#also I hope everyone enjoys my humor that I named her moms new husband from district 4 Rod like fishing rod

[katnissmellarkkk]

“Why are you wearing my sweater?” “Because it smells like you.”

Hi! So thank you for sending a prompt! I hope this is good enough? I’m so bad at writing fluff that isn’t kind of angsty, so I tried. In my defense, the angst isn’t at all between Everlark. But anyways, I enjoyed writing this so thanks for sending!!! 

Oh, also it’s important to know ahead of time before reading that a). this is set post-mockingjay and b). in my version of post-canon, Panem took on some semblance of our modern day winter holidays. So they have a celebration that’s kind of a variation of Christmas.

My feet trudge down the stairs, still somewhat unwillingly, although no one is forcing me. I could stay upstairs in my room all day if I so wished, I could hide under the blankets and just pretend. I could just pretend today was an ordinary, boring day and that most of the people I know won’t be convening in my house for the vast majority of the afternoon and evening.

But I don’t. Because that wouldn’t be fair to do to Peeta.

Peeta, who loves the celebrating and the family gatherings and the newfound holidays this country has adapted since the end of the war, since the end of Snow and Coin and the hunger games.

And it’s not that I don’t want to see my family. It’s not that I necessarily want to be a hermit in my own home, like Haymitch.

I just really don’t like this new holiday. For whatever reason, it has made my skin crawl every year, for the last six years that it’s been slowly making it’s way across the districts. Every year, people in every district alike put out decorations, purchase candy and trees, cook meat and pastries and, though every district calls the holiday a differing variety of names, everyone all celebrates alike. With their family, traveling to see loved ones, thankful for the safety not one of us can take for granted now since the war.

Maybe it’s that seeing the whole country uniformly celebrating anything still makes my skin crawl, as I still see loud, boisterous crowds in my dreams at night, and though the people celebrating this holiday are probably nothing like the faces I see in my sleep, I still can’t shake the connection.

Or maybe it’s that not all my family survived the war. Maybe it’s the fact that I don’t want to celebrate anything if I can’t celebrate with everyone I love.

Either way I still make my way down the stairs and through the living room, just the same. I walk past Haymitch, drunk and passed out on the floor and the embers burning in the hearth next to him. I walk into the kitchen and meet the eyes of my husband, currently stirring batter of some kind in the bowl I did my best to handcraft for his birthday two years ago.

“Hi,” Peeta greets, his eyes visibly surprised to see me. “What’re you doing up?”

I give him a look as I slide into a tall chair by the counter. “It’s nine-thirty,” I deadpan. “I’m usually up at six.”

“I just figured,” he starts before hesitating, measuring me carefully before second-guessing his words. “I know you don’t like the new holiday traditions,” he finally amends.

I shrug my shoulders, non-committal. “It’s not like I can hide away while everyone’s here,” I state, as if I wasn’t contemplating doing that exact thing on the way down the stairs.

Peeta though touches my hand and gives it a squeeze, sympathetically. “I could tell them you’re sick?” He offers softly.

A part of me wishes to take him up on that offer but I shake my head plainly. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“I can tell everyone to head over to Delly’s and Kanon’s. Delly doesn’t mind changing her plans and hosting. We can just spend the day you and me.”

“And Haymitch makes three?” I tease, but give a half smile as I turn down this idea too. “I’m fine, Peeta. Really. I can even help you finish up...” I look at the bowl of mixed ingredients, attempting to decipher what he’s concocting. I’ve been married to him long enough to put together the smell of vanilla, cinnamon and chocolate, but still manage to come up empty to what his final product will be.

He just laughs at my confusion. “No, actually, I was planning on taking a break anyway,” he says, putting the bowl and spoon down, but I easily know he’s lying. He never stops halfway through making anything for a break, no matter how sore his arm can get from stirring.

“Really?” I raise one thick eyebrow at him, knowingly, as he walks around the counter and pulls at my hand to follow him.

As I stand, Peeta evidently takes in my attire for the first time since I came downstairs.

“Why are you wearing my sweater?” He asks, his own blonde brows furrowing now.

“Because it smells like you,” I say defensively, hugging it to me like I’m afraid he’s going to steal it away.

But his eyes soften almost imperceptibly and he gives me a look that is so loving and so sweet, it would disgust me if it were from anyone else.

“Come here,” he directs evenly, tugging me by hand. I let him guide me to the living room, taking a seat on the coffee table while he finds residence across from me, on the couch. We both, probably unwisely, ignore the drunk sleeping off his stupor by the flames.

Peeta takes my hands in his and leans down to press his mouth to my knuckles. “Talk to me, Katniss.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I insist, but my voice is too quiet and he’s been married to me for over six years and he knows me too well at this point. He knew me too well at sixteen, let alone now, after all these years.

Proving just that, he shakes his head. “Something’s bothering you. And I don’t like it when you’re not happy.”

I shrug then, because I have no defense to really give. “I just... dislike Yuleday,” I admit simply, using the most common term for the holiday.

I feel his large hand cover my cheek tenderly. “Is this because your mom is bringing Rod this year?”

My jaw clenches at the mention of my mother’s new husband. I open my mouth to deny it but then I look into Peeta’s kind, understanding blue eyes, that have never judged me, that have sought so hard for so long to never let his demons cast shadows over them again, and I just can’t. His baby blue eyes stop me in my tracks, stop me from telling him a blatant lie. “It’s a part of it,” I admit begrudgingly.

I feel his hand move to rub one of my shoulders. “I know. I know it’s hard,” he validates. I lean over and kiss his fingers as they try to massage the tension away. “But it has been almost fourteen years since your dad died, Katniss. Your mom... it’s okay for her to move on. I think it’s a good thing, that she was able to open her heart again to someone new.”

I nod mechanically, knowing all this is true, logically. “Yeah,” I try to agree, but it comes out unevenly and I can’t quite make myself look at him now.

“It’s easier to accept from an outside position,” he notes kindly.

But I shake my head. “It’s not just that, Peeta. It’s... it’s not just that she remarried or that she didn’t tell me about him until they were engaged. It’s... it’s everything that came with her getting remarried.”

Already knowing what I meant without asking me to verbalize, he adds, “It’s the step-children that make it more difficult to swallow.” His words are a clear statement, not a question.

I shrug at that, knowing it’s true. “It just feels odd that she has this whole other family now,” I explain, feeling immature and ridiculous and petty.

Practically reading my mind again, Peeta tries to comfort me. “That’s natural, Katniss. For you to feel that way, I mean. I would.” He lifts my chin so I have to look at him now. “I would feel the exact same way. Especially...” he cuts himself off now, once again second-guessing what he wants to say.

“Especially what?” I prompt.

“Especially if I lost my sister like you did. I would be sensitive about my mother gaining step-kids too. Younger step-kids, at that.” He gives me a long measuring look in which makes me feel naked. And not in a good way, like usual. “That’s what really bothering you, after all.”

My eyes widen, startled by his call out. “What?”

“That’s why you’re really upset. About the holiday, about everyone coming over, about your mom’s new family. Because it just reminds you that Prim is missing.”

I stare straight ahead blankly, unable to respond. Nothing hurts more than that simple truth, that glaring fact, that cuts me right down to the bone. That the real reason I hate this new celebration is because my sister would absolutely love it and she’s not here to experience it. She’s not here to see it and I don’t know how to enjoy it properly, even for Peeta’s sake, without her here too.

“Come here,” Peeta says now, and he tugs me by hand from the coffee table and into his lap. His fingers sift through my hair tenderly and his lips find resistance against my forehead. After a long beat, he whispers against my temple, “She would want you to make new memories. Prim would love Yuleday. And she would want you to love it.”

“I know she would love it,” I say and we both pretend not to hear the way my voice cracks. “But she isn’t here to love it and... I feel wrong celebrating without her. I know it’s been eight years-“

“Katniss, there’s no time limit on grief. Trust me, I know.” Of course he did. He lost his entire family in one fell swoop and I’m over here whining about my loss. I feel his hand slip up my sweater—well, technically his sweater—and rub my back. “Do you remember what I said at our toasting?”

I crane my neck back from it’s place against his throat, giving him a puzzled look. “Off topic but yes. I remember everything from that day.” And I do. I remember how perfect his outfit was, how it wasn’t too casual or too formal, just the right simplicity. I remember what he said and how the warmth of the fire reflected the warmth inside my heart. I remember the bread he made and how it was the exact the bread he tossed to me in the rain all those years ago, the exact bread that had saved my life. I remember the look in his eyes as he stared at me, the tears he shed of utter happiness, because we were finally able to love each other safely and wholly and without pressure or reservations.

“Do you remember what I said about Prim?” He inquiries softly.

And then I understand why he brought up our toasting. “Yes,” I affirm, my voice quiet again.

“She’s always here, for all the big events and the small ones. She lives inside you, Katniss. Your sister is a part of you, no matter what.”

I blink back the moisture in my eyes, trying my hardest not to let any of it fall. “I know.”

“Prim would want you to be happy,” he says again, kissing my hair, his fingers dancing over my braids. I put my hair in two today, knowing he liked it when I did. “Happy with and for your mother.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “I do hope she’s happy,” I murmur finally, my grey eyes boring into his. “I hope Rod makes her as happy as you make me.”

I feel his lips before I realize he’s leaning in, our mouths connecting instantaneously. His lips are softer than ever, but still firm, still able to create an electric spark inside of me. I thought the kiss on the beach was good when I was seventeen, but in reality, it was nothing compared to how he makes me feel eight years later. It was nothing compared to the fireworks he erupts now, without even so much as trying.

But he can’t go without teasing me for long and as soon as we pull apart, as I trail my lips downwards to begin hungrily kissing his throat, he doesn’t even miss a beat, saying, “I hope Rod makes your mom as happy as my sweaters make you.”

I immediately pull my mouth away, my eyes narrowing. “I’m leaving.”

“No,” he pleads, grabbing me by the waist as I try to stand and tugging me back into his arms again. His lips find where my neck meets my shoulder and he sucks, putting a vast amount of pressure there, knowing it’s my utter weakness. “Don’t leave me. I love you,” he mumbles gently against my skin.

I can’t help my smile then as I reach my hand up and touch his cheek, making sure not to interfere with him continuing his task. “I love you too, Peeta.”

But another voice joins us, effectively ending the moment. “Can you two get a room?” Haymitch barks, his eyes bleary as he leans his head up off the floor now, still waking up.

“Actually, we got a whole house, Haymitch,” Peeta assures smoothly. “But thanks for making yourself at home in it.”

Haymitch only offers a thumbs up in response before flopping back on the hardwood, groaning in response to the dying fire’s last sizzling flames.

“If only we could use our house to our... liking. In peace.” I don’t even bother keeping my voice down or hiding my meaning from Haymitch.

“Girl, if you want to talk like that, save it for after company leaves.”

“You’re not company, Haymitch,” I shoot back.

“I’m talking about everyone else coming today, sweetheart.”

Oh. It had momentarily slipped my mind that we were expecting people any moment now. “We’re really grateful you could grace us with your presence early,” Peeta says to the hungover man, who’s now reaching his hand closer to the fire, attempting to absorb any heat he can.

“Shut it, boy. It’s Yuleday. Have some kindness for an old man who saved your life.”

“By kindness he means alcohol,” I murmur, eliciting Peeta’s chuckle.

“She’s not wrong,” Haymitch adds under his breath.

“Let me up,” Peeta pats my butt, signaling for me to get off his lap. “I have to go finish the chocolate cinnamon rolls before our family gets here.”

But as he starts to make his way back towards the kitchen, I follow behind him, grabbing his hand to catch up. “What’re you doing?” He asks, his voice confused.

“I’m going to help you finish baking.”

His brow push together. “What suddenly got you in the spirit?”

I shrug, making my way ahead of him and grabbing the bowl he was using before to stir the batter around. “Like Haymitch said. It’s Yuleday.”

Peeta’s eyes relax and then soften as he looks at me, no doubt taking in the image of me in his sweater, mixing batter around in the bowl I handmade him. Just as I finish stirring all the ingredients together, he wraps his arms around my waist and starts planting kisses on my neck greedily.

And I decide in that moment, as I twist around to capture my husband’s lips again with my own, to do everything I can to be happy for my mom.

To be as happy for her as I know somewhere Prim is for me.

#everlark #thg #the hunger games #my writing #everlark fanfic #fan fiction #fanfic #prompt #Drabble #whatever ya wanna call it #katniss everdeen #Peeta mellark #play with me 🥰 #also I hope everyone enjoys my humor that I named her moms new husband from district 4 Rod like fishing rod #ok just me with my weird humor look away

[7team7]

Apron

In which cherry blossoms are familiar and Uchiha history can be found woven into all the fabrics of their household.

A/N: Hi everyone :) sorry for my own lack of posts, but I’m so excited to finally share this! My dear friend and the talented artist ALISS @alisstairs​ and I have been working on this project for a long time and we’re posting this part as a Valentine’s Day treat!! Our twitters are plumbIossoms and a_lisstairs. Please enjoy and look out for the rest of the project when it’s ready to be posted! Please do not repost any of this anywhere.

Sakura walked through the front door and was immediately greeted by a delicious scent and soft sounds coming from the kitchen — which meant her husband was cooking. The fact that Sasuke was both home early from a mission and cooking dinner was enough to put her in a good mood, so when she saw him standing over the stove, she couldn’t help but break into a big smile. 

“Why’d you get an apron?” Sakura asked when she came up right behind him to peek at what he had set to boil. Sasuke jerked his chin towards his lone arm, “It can get a little messy with just this. I actually bought this for you while I was getting groceries, but I needed it myself for today.”

When Sakura walked in, Sasuke’s back was to her, so she only noticed the strings knotted around his waist that showed he was wearing an apron. Only when he turned around to kiss her in greeting did she realize the apron was pale pink in color and covered in a cherry blossom print. How cute.

“And when were you planning on telling me about this gift?” she asked with the same big smile she wore when she walked in.

“Never. It’s fine if you don’t use it and we just eat out all the time.” Sasuke honestly enjoyed his wife’s cooking, but it was always fun to tease her when everyone else claimed she was the worst. Sai’s pale skin turned a shade of sickly green anytime someone mentioned Sakura’s soldier pills.

Sakura rolled her eyes. Fine, he could just make his own bento next time! 

“Sarada is still with my parents?” she queried instead. “Yes, I figured your mom would refuse to give her up if I attempted picking her up early. We can get her tomorrow morning?” “That sounds good. I only dropped her off this afternoon, so she’ll be fine for a little longer, but I’ll definitely be glad to have her back here. Sasuke-kun, aren’t you tired from your mission? Why didn’t you want to just get take-out or something?” Sasuke’s face fell almost imperceptibly, “You weren’t home when I got back. I wasn’t injured so I couldn’t bother you at the hospital. The house was too quiet without Sarada and I didn’t really have anything else to do.” He said it plainly, but the explanation made Sakura’s heart hurt a little. Coming home to an empty house was a certain kind of lonely feeling. The only downside of Sasuke returning early was that she hadn’t been there to greet him right away. 

“Okay,” she smiled gently up at him, hoping to draw him away from any dark thoughts, “I’m glad you’re making something, I’m starving.” Sasuke nodded, but when his eyes narrowed soon after, Sakura already knew what he was thinking. “Yes, I ate lunch at the hospital. I brought the last of some leftovers.” He nodded again, satisfied.

Sakura moved away from his side to give him some space and started setting the table. “You know, this feels a little like before we had Sarada. Just me and you.” 

“Except we’re not roasting fish over a fire in the middle of nowhere,” Sasuke deadpanned. 

“Hey! You can’t deny that we had some good meals on the road. Well, I think cooking them was usually more fun than eating them because we never knew how they would turn out,” Sakura reminisced.  And she was constantly impressed by Sasuke’s mastery of fire style; every single time he produced the perfect flame for their food. On her birthday, he even humored her and produced a baby flame for a candle they picked up in a random village.

They were able to find some familiar foods during their travels, but there were plenty of new flavors too. Naturally, some were hits, some were misses. The open air markets from the various nations always had something new to offer. 

But having access to a kitchen inside a home was definitely a perk of returning to the village. For Sasuke, Konoha was a place where his home happened to be, and for Sakura, Konoha was always going to be home. Even if they couldn’t control the chaos outside the village walls, they at least had a warm kitchen to always return to. 

.

A few days later, Sasuke returned home from the market with another apron, this one specifically for him: it was larger and free of (a specific pink) decoration. He hadn’t noticed how messy they could get while cooking and feeding Sarada until he did laundry recently. He always managed to get sauce splattered on his pants while cooking. Sarada was normally a good eater, but smashed peas often ended up on his shirt after dinner. Even on the darker fabrics he preferred, some stains just wouldn’t come out. 

“Oh, but it’s so plain. At least let me sew the clan symbol on it?” Sakura rubbed the thick material of the apron between her fingers. It was so much longer than hers, Sasuke is so tall! Should she make a pocket? How big should the fan be? Should she sew his name on it too? 

“Sakura the food is burning!” Sasuke was taking off his shoes and playing with Sarada by the door while Sakura examined the apron, so neither of them noticed the rising smoke until it was too late. Sakura rushed back to the stove to turn down the heat, but the damage had been done. Their meal was torched. Toasted. Singed. Seared. Charred. Fire style jutsu-ed. “That’s what I get for trying to speed up the process by using high heat,” Sakura sighed. Work had been long and taxing, she really didn’t want to spend more time chopping vegetables, but dinner wasn’t going to cook itself. 

But thankfully, Sasuke was there to save the day (as he so often did). She felt his large, warm hand come to rest on the small of her back and at first she thought he was just trying to comfort her. But then his fingers fiddled around behind her and undid her apron’s knot. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have distracted you,” he said mirthfully. “I’ll fix it or just make something else. Go sit.” 

Sakura meekly shuffled away, grabbing Sarada to play on the couch. She wondered how she got so lucky. 

After stealing several peeks at Sasuke’s broad back in the kitchen, Sakura carried Sarada over to him. “She wants to know if she can help,” Sakura held Sarada up and covered her own face. Sarada squirmed and babbled in her hands, making Sasuke smile. She would be talking, as in actually able to articulate her own sentences, soon enough.

“She can be our official taste tester.” He wasn’t going to let Sakura worry about dinner, but he also could never deny her attempts at having a little fun. He took a small spoonful of broth and blew on it until it had cooled considerably. He brought the spoon to Sarada’s mouth and guided it in.

She spit half of it up onto her white bib, but giggled loudly afterwards. “I think that means she likes it?”

.

“Mom, can I borrow your apron? I wanted to make ChoCho something for her birthday, it’s tomorrow,” Sarada called out from the kitchen where she was poking around and gathering ingredients for a cake. She had only ever made one with the help of her mother, but it couldn’t be that hard, right?

Sakura came in from the living room, “Oh, sure! It might be a little big on you though. We should just get you your own, even your dad has one.”

The thought of her father wearing an apron covered in tomatoes made Sarada freeze. Papa? Has his own apron? 

“Well, he used to use mine, but then we weren’t able to cook at the same time. His would definitely be too big for you.” Sakura opened up a cabinet and pulled out her well-loved cherry blossom apron, plus a larger, blue apron with the Uchiha symbol in the center. It would definitely be too big on Sarada.

But Sarada always missed her father, so she asked shyly, “Can I wear dad’s? I’ll probably get really messy, so I need it to cover all of my clothes.” Sakura smiled at her and helped her put it on. Even though she tied the strings extra tight, Sarada was still swimming in the blue fabric. It didn’t feel wrong, though. 

As she went along with baking the cake, she always made sure to avoid wiping her hands on the clan symbol. After learning about her family’s history, she had a certain reverence for the Uchiha. The fan represented her ancestors, her family past and present, and as silly as it was, she didn’t want to dirty it. When she pulled the finished cake out of the oven, she noticed the intense heat didn’t bother her as much now that she had become more proficient in fire style. 

After frosting the cake with a simple birthday message, Sarada finally cleaned up, satisfied with her work. She was reluctant to take the apron off and part with another piece of her father. She wondered what kind of food he made when he wore this apron. Were there any Uchiha family recipes he could share? Maybe next time he was home, Sarada could make him something too

.

A/N: Like I said, this is just one part to a larger project, we will post the full thing soon enough but we’ve been working hard on it for a while. And again do not repost! Show Aliss some love on her accounts pwease she is the best <3 and happy Valentine’s Day!!

#sasusaku #sss fam #uchiha fam #Uchiha Sakura #Sasuke Uchiha #sarada uchiha #my writing #fan art #alisstairs #valentines day

[id-rather-be-an-outsider]

Parkson Mystery

Kate Denson x Jake Park

word count: 1,457

summary: none of Kate’s fans know how she met him. she was single one day, and had him all over her feed the next. they tried digging into his past and discovered he was working on Wall Street, until his digital footprint all but vanished, only again popping up on the internet’s radar when the songbird he spent so much time around made their relationship public. this is the true story of how america’s sweetheart and the mystery mogul first met... and then some.

a/n: I had so much fun writing this! this story was originally posted on the DBD Amino. imma be completely honest w u, I have NOT been a fan of Kate. I like using Boil Over when in swf and I enjoy the Horse Gorl™️ vibes but like. idk. ANYWAYS. as I wrote this story I actually made a bunch of personal headcanons and can now say, Parkson is an official ship for me! I can totally vibe w the dynamic they have in my head <3

masterlist

Jake Park wasn’t ashamed to admit he’d picked up a taste for country music after having an existential crisis; in fact, he wasn’t even ashamed to admit he’d become an avid fan of Kate Denson - not a stan, though. Sure, he followed her on his private Instagram, but that wasn’t to lurk on her sexy photoshoot pictures, it was just to keep track of release dates for her albums. Granted, it never is hard to admit things when you don’t have friends to admit them to in the first place.

Every now and then he’d wonder if he should stop being such a stiff and just call one of his old work buddies for a steak dinner, but a quick scroll through their text history would remind him why he left the world of Wall Street behind to begin with. Materialism pales in comparison to the simple things in life, he’d tell himself. His baser instincts had always told him life wasn’t meant to be complicated, which is why he shoved those instincts down for years.

But Kate’s music - the songs of America’s sweetheart - reminded him of what an uncomplicated life was. Hard, rewarding work all day, and well-deserved rest at night. So much more peaceful than the never-ending rat race of the big city. Her music spoke to his soul in ways nothing ever had before, calmed his spirit. It made him realize how lost he was. So, he ditched the concrete jungle in favor of the real deal. Now all he ever dreamed of was thanking the young star who set him on fire again, giving him a new lease on life.

When he heard she was touring in his city, he felt excitement seeping into his very essence. Finally, the chance he’d been hoping for. He supposed she would be bashful, tell him he did more to turn his life around than she did. She gave off that vibe, at least. But Jake knew the truth, and he hoped he might find a kindred spirit in her. He pulled out an old business suit, perfect for a rare night on the town, brought his expensive car out of the garage acting as its tomb, and purchased a VIP ticket.

He was the last person in line. When he got to the front, he was almost speechless at the sight of her - almost. He managed to get out, “Miss Denson, your music saved my life.” The star laughed shyly, like she was used to a different kind of person saying those words to her. Probably fourteen, wearing braces, just having gone through their emo phase before getting back in touch with their roots. All the kids go through them these days, after all. Even a little cousin of Jake’s did a few years back. While he pondered this, he couldn’t help but also ponder how her laugh sounded like wind chimes. How is it that musicians always sound so magical?

As Jake mused, Kate said something he couldn’t quite hear and began to walk away with her security detail, agent in tow. “Wait!” He called out, and she turned back to face him. He could tell her agent was thinking he was just a crazed country boy super fan. “What if I told you that your music is the reason why I walked away from Wall Street?”

Kate smiled, a little confused. “I’d say that explains the accent. What’s your name, mister...?”

“Park. Jake Park, to be exact, but you can call me Jake, if you’d like.”

She laughed again, this time with confidence unlike before, demeanor changing from wary to businesslike. Or... something else. Jake couldn’t quite place it. “Well, Jake, I have a burning question for you: Why would my music make you give up a career like that?” She broke away from her entourage to come closer.

“We could discuss it over dinner, if you’d like?” Jake offered, the old swagger from his uptown days making a guest appearance. Sure, he wasn’t working numbers under uppity snobs to get a bigger Christmas bonus anymore, but he still knew how to play poker. If Kate’s eyes were of any indication, his gut told him he may have just been dealt a winning hand.

Kate accepted before her agent could intervene or protest, his eyes turning into slits. Probably worried Jake’s background with money and marketing could put him out of a job. Maybe he was right. “I’d love to get to know my most interesting fan. Might as well put that Wall Street money to use, huh?”

“Sure thing, darlin’.”

Since that day, their relationship as business partners, friends, and eventually more, blossomed. Kate dropped her greedy agent and management team for the generous man who became her best friend. Jake used his book smarts and savvy money skills to help lower Kate’s touring costs, made her performances more accessible to *all* of her fans, and helped her rake in extra profits from her music releases *and* with cheaper marketing. She spent less time in the studio and more time with him on their back porch as he sat and listened to her beautiful creations.

Truth be told, meeting Jake helped save Kate. Her old team had been stripping the life from her creativity, pushing for numbers rather than quality content. Having Jake work with her personally made everything so... simple. Working from home when making music, waking up to the sun dappling her skin through the the leaves of the trees, feeling the breeze on her face and his kisses on her fingers - it put the inspiration back into her music.

Her fans seemed to notice too, and they seemed to get a kick out of her sharing more about her life online, making theories about their relationship. Jake and Kate would scroll through the subreddit comments and laugh at the crazy ideas everyone had. Jake hadn’t laughed like that with someone in a long time. He hadn’t had a sense of humor in a long time, either.

When his family came calling, lecturing him about dropping his old career and this and that, he invited them over for dinner... and showed them that his and Kate’s retirement funds were already completed when she wasn’t looking. Their qualms ended after seeing the financial security they had, and seeing how calm Jake’s home life was. Sure, it was a strange change, but for once, Jake was happy, and seemed fulfilled. They didn’t always understand everything, but they understood enough.

Eventually, they visited Jake’s family in Korea, had their quiet wedding, nothing crazy, just something for family and close friends and nice rings, and did some remodeling with their own bare hands to create a cute nursery, complete with musical instruments and stuffed animals. When the delivery date came, Jake was a mess. He knew his wife would handle it like a champ, but his nerves were still through the roof. The labor came and went easily, and they came home with a beautiful baby girl.

“What are you going to call her?” Kate’s mother cooed as she obsessed over the newborn.

“Jake was thinking Yu-Hwa, and I was thinking Grace. He said I could have the first name if he had the middle name.” Kate mused. Jake was outside working on building a playground for their daughter. He’d insisted on getting an early start, arguing that his mother said time flies when raising a baby, no matter that their child was only a week old.

“Grace sounds beautiful. It matches your names, too. Oh, I’m going to have *so* much fun spoiling this little girl!” The new grandmother whisper-squealed, not wanting to wake the baby. “When are you going to have more?”

Kate laughed. “I told you mom, we just want the one.”

“For now.”

“For *forever,* mom.”

“What’s this about another child?” Jake asked, announcing his presence.

“Just Grama Denson getting a bit too ahead of herself.” Kate rolled her eyes.

Jake casually wrapped his arms around Kate, planting a kiss on her forehead before heading to the fridge to steal some lemonade. “I mean, between you and me, eomma, I wouldn’t mind making another baby, long as they keep turning out this cute.”

Kate gave him a quick flick to the forehead before he could dodge it. “Stop conspiring against me with my mother, sir. It takes two to tango.”

When the playground was finished, Kate did, in fact, gain another baby bump, watching happily as her husband helped their first waddler play outside. Grace Yu-Hwa Park and Dae-Hwan Lee Park, DaeDae for short, were lucky enough to have the best dad, Kate thought. Jake looked up at her, glowing in spite of the autumn cold, and thought the same thing.

separator images found here

#outsider writes #dead by daylight #kate denson #jake park #parkson #jake x kate #kate x jake #jake park x kate denson #kate denson x jake park #fluff #dbd #dbd fanfic #dbd moodboard

[okayoonoh]

what do we do now?

“Those instructions weren’t too bad, right? Just one task, he had the whole day to do it.

So why, oh why, did Doyoung cut Minyoung’s hair himself?”

---

- PAIRING: kim doyoung x reader - GENRE: family fluff and some humor! - RATING: e for everyone!! - WORD COUNT: 7,255 - WARNINGS: just the fear of doyoung cutting his only son’s hair for the first time

a/n: the idea for this scenario came to me randomly and i just KNEW that doyoung and taeyong would fit best in this! i hope you guys like it!

here’s the masterlist to all things nct dad related! go and check out all of the other parts i have!

[ navi ]

---

key:

y/bf/n - your best friend’s name

t/w/n - taeyong’s wife’s name

---

It was simple, really. You told your ever loving husband to do one thing. One simple thing. 

Hey Doyoung, please don’t forget to take Minyoung out for a haircut. 

Those instructions weren’t too bad, right? Just one task, he had the whole day to do it.

So why, oh why, did Doyoung cut Minyoung’s hair himself?

The day started off as a beautiful day. Your precious 8 month old son finally slept through the night after a couple weeks of deciding that the early hours of the morning are for partying, not sleeping. You wake up to silence; the sunlight shining through the curtain, streams of warm light dispersing themselves throughout the soft features of your husband’s face. Your heart flutters. Waking up next to him everyday still overflows your heart with so much love and happiness. You know for sure that you are right where you belong in this moment in time.

You move gently from the bed, not wanting to wake up your sleepy husband. Taking quiet steps, you move over to the crib next to the bed, checking on your dear son. His eyes were shut, indicating that he had no intention in waking up anytime soon. You smooth over his dark hair, realizing his bangs have grown so much since he was born. Holding back a laugh, you reminisce on the times your son’s thick hair seemed non-existent, clearly remembering Doyoung’s major concern of that day.

---

“Babe, do you think we should be concerned about his hair? It just looks so thin.” Doyoung says from your side, his skinny frame squished in the tight hospital bed beside you, his arm around your shoulders as you hold your son born merely hours ago.

Your newborn lays comfortably in your arms, his soft blanket swaddling him perfectly. He looked like a doll with a soft squishy face, seemingly flawless. 

“I mean look,” Doyoung says, reaching a hand to remove the green beanie that rests on his newborn’s head, “It’s not like there’s no hair, but Minyoung just looks bald at this point.”

You glare at your husband, reaching for the beanie Doyoung pulled out abruptly, gently placing it back on the baby’s head. “Look, all babies are different, Doyoung. We should be happy; some babies are born with no hair at all! Let’s be happy with the hair he has, okay?”

Doyoung sighs, “You’re right, you’re right. It just goes to show that he doesn’t even need hair to be the cutest baby in the world.” His voice raises in pitch as he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss on Minyoung’s forehead. Minyoung wiggles a bit in your arms, a little annoyed that his dad woke him up from his sleep. You shush him, lulling the little baby back to sleep. You rest your head against Doyoung’s shoulder, his head resting on top of yours while you both look down at your entire world wrapped in a small bundle. Everything seems perfect. 

---

The days where your son’s hair was manageable and thin seem like yesterday. The days where the only thing you needed to do was let his hair just exist. You find yourself buying more hair pins, headbands, and clips for Minyoung rather than yourself. He may be less than a year old, but his hair is just getting too long. You decide, it’s time.

It’s time for Minyoung to get his first haircut.

Smoothing over his bangs one more time, you look at the alarm clock on your bedside table. 

7:13. You sigh, deciding now is the best time to get ready for the day. Your phone buzzes on the bedside table, your best friend’s name popping up as a text notification.

Y/BF/N: good morning y/n! taeyong’s wife said that she’s dropping off little youngchul at your place before heading over to the store. i originally had plans in the morning but they’ve been cancelled! I’ll be heading to your place with her so that we can all go to the boutique together. 

Today is the first day in a long time since you’ve gone out with just your friends. Your best friend was recently engaged and as her “maid of honor”, you have to go with her to say yes to the dress. Thankfully, your best friend knew your circumstances and didn’t put too many responsibilities on you since you’ve become a mom merely 8 months ago. She agrees that it’s easier for her, too. She’s always been someone who’s more on the particular side of things. 

Ever since your son was born, the most you’ve been out of the house was a quick dinner date you had with Doyoung; his parents gracious enough to watch their grandchild for a couple hours so you and Doyoung could breathe. No one said parenting would be easy and you and Doyoung are feeling the testament of it right now. Today will be Doyoung’s first time alone with Minyoung and you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. It’s not that you don’t trust your husband, it’s just this is the first time either of you are alone with the baby for this long.

Heading over to the bathroom, you grab your toothbrush, squeezing toothpaste on the bristles, wetting it, then brushing your teeth. You check your reflection in the mirror, checking your sleepy complexion. You hear the sheets of your bed rustle, watching as your sleepy husband makes his way out of bed. His feet pad against the wooden floor as he makes his way over to you, wrapping his arm around your side and kissing the top of your head. 

“Morning,” he says, his voice still raspy from sleep. 

You lean over the sink, rinse, and dry your mouth. 

“Morning,” you reply with a kiss on his cheek. “Are you nervous for today?”

“Not really,” he replies, turning on the sink wet his hands as he gets ready to wash his face. “I think I’ll be okay. It’s only for a day.”

You nod, watching as your husband grabs your cleanser, rubbing some in his hands and putting it on his face.

“Oh, before I forget.” You grab your phone from the counter, texting a location to Doyoung. “Please don’t forget to take Minyoung out for a haircut. I just sent you the address of my friend’s salon and she said she’ll do it for free since Minyoung is still a baby. You have to do it before 3:00, though. She has a full schedule after that so she can’t take us in after that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it done.” Doyoung smiles after he rinses off his face. You return his smile with your own, gently rubbing his back in appreciation.

“Also! I forgot to give her back the necklace I borrowed from her, can you give this to her as well?”

Doyoung nods, “I’ll take care of it, babe. Don’t worry about us at home, go and enjoy your day with your friends.”

You smile at your husband, glad to see his attempts to comfort you. With a final pat on his back, you head back towards your bedroom, walking to the closet. Your phone buzzes in your hand, a notification popping up on the screen, this time a text from Taeyong’s wife.

T/W/N: i have some good news! well, more for our husbands, lol. taeyong’s schedule has been cleared, so doyoung doesn’t have to watch both babies on his own! 

You smile, texting back.

YOU: that’s perfect! I was so nervous that doyoung would just forget everything, but i feel comforted that taeyong will be there now!

You place your phone down on the bedside table, going back into the closet to finish selecting your outfit. It’s time to get back into the rhythm of things. 

---

Ding-dong

“I got it,” Doyoung says, “Babe, can you keep stirring this for me?” 

You nod, quickly moving to the kitchen while Doyoung heads towards the door. You stir the soup Doyoung was making, grabbing a spoon to give it a taste. 

“Hello!” Doyoung cheers when he opens the door, happy to see the visitors. Taeyong, his wife, and your best friend enter the door, Youngchul resting in his mother’s arms. 

“Youngchul! Look at you!” Doyoung smiles as they all make their way in. Doyoung lays out his hands, wanting to hold the adorable baby. Taeyong’s wife hands Youngchul to Doyoung with a smile, thanking your husband so she can remove her shoes. 

They all enter the kitchen, Doyoung attempting to make little Youngchul laugh the entire way there. 

“Dude, your best friend is here and you’ve only been acknowledging my son,” Taeyong pouts at your husband.

“I’m sorry, Taeyong. Little Youngchul is just more interesting than you,” Doyoung says, not taking his eyes off of the baby. Taeyong laughs in response, taking a look around the living room.

“Hi, Y/N!” Taeyong says when he sees you. You walk over and give him a hug.

“Hey Taeyong! Thank you so much for coming here. I don’t think Doyoung could survive by himself.” You smile. You see your friends and hug them as well, each one of you excited for the day.

Taeyong replies, “Don’t worry, Y/N. This is my first time being alone with Youngchul so we’ll both be going through it, but at least it’ll be together.”

“Y/N! We have to get going or we’re going to be late!” Your best friend says, all while eating some seaweed from the soup, causing you to giggle. Knowing the nature of your best friend, you knew that she forgot to eat before she arrived at your place. 

You quickly grab a snack for your friend and the three of you get ready to leave the house. You walk towards your room to check on Minyoung one last time, kissing his forehead. You head back to the kitchen to kiss Doyoung goodbye and good luck, then you leave the house to meet up with your friends. 

Doyoung sets the table, Taeyong sitting down with Youngchul on his lap. 

“Where’s Minyoung?” Taeyong asks, bouncing the leg Youngchul sits on. 

“Minyoung is still asleep,” Doyoung replies while filling up two bowls with the soup he made, “My son is finally sleeping through the night and we’ve learned that he really does like to sleep a lot.”

Doyoung sets the soup down in front of Taeyong, sitting across from his friend.

“I wish Youngchul would be at that stage,” Taeyong says, taking a spoonful of soup and carefully blowing on it, “The longest Youngchul has slept has been 5 hours, but that was after a full day of the ever energetic Chenle and Jisung watching after him.”

Doyoung nods, eating a spoonful of soup as well. While the two dads catch each other up with the latest news, Youngchul looks at all of the tasty food in front of him. Formula was great, don’t get him wrong, but with his new, growing set of teeth, he wants a bite of the real stuff. In his father’s tight grasp, Youngchul does his best to lean forward and grab the seemingly delicious soup his father was eating. 

“Pa! Pa!” Youngchul grunts, leaning forward with all of his might in attempt to eat some of the yummy food. 

“No, Youngchul, this isn’t for you,” Taeyong says, pulling the boy back. Taeyong takes a little bit of rice and puts it in front of his son’s mouth, “Here, you can eat this. Say ahhh”

Youngchul opens his mouth, letting his father feed him the small grains of rice. He smiles and claps, making a noise of approval of the delicious food he just received, causing both dads to laugh.

“Do you like it, Youngchul?” Doyoung asks with a gummy smile on his face. Youngchul returns the smile with his own, clapping his hands. Both dads let out a laugh at the baby’s adorable antics.

A loud cry cuts through the air, causing Doyoung to spring up and head straight towards the bedroom.

“Are you awake, Minyoung?” Doyoung says, leaning over the crib to pick up the crying baby. Minyoung continues to cry, his strong lungs seemingly sending shockwaves throughout the entire house. 

Doyoung quickly calms down his son, changes the baby's diaper, then heads back to the kitchen where Taeyong is. 

“Youngchul look! Minyoung is awake now,” Taeyong says while his son looks over at Minyoung. 

“Oh my god, look at that hair!” Taeyong laughs after noticing Minyoung’s unkempt hair. With random pieces sticking up, bangs growing past his eyes, one chunk that decided to be curly, Minyoung wins the award for “Best Bed Head” by a long shot. 

Doyoung moves his son to the side to take a look, his eyes going wide. “Minyoung! What happened?! Your hair wasn’t like this last night!”

With Taeyong’s laughter in the background, Doyoung walks towards the bathroom, grabbing one of your hair clips that you use for your son. He sits Minyoung on the counter so Minyoung can see himself through the mirror, fixing his son’s unkempt hair.

Doyoung grabs the brush and gently brushes the rebellious strands that don’t want to stay up. 

“Minyoung,” Doyoung starts, looking at his son’s reflection through the mirror, “Youngchul and your favorite Uncle came here to see you! Appa will make sure you look just as handsome as him so your Uncle will be jealous that my son is so handsome.”

“Appa! Pa!” Minyoung giggles.

“Yes, I’m appa!” Doyoung clips up Minyoung’s bangs, the hair sticking straight up, “There! Now we can see your eyes!”

He lifts him up into his arms and kisses his soft cheeks, now heading back to the kitchen. After the quick refresher, Doyoung sits back down in his seat, this time with Minyoung in his lap. 

“Good morning, Minyoung!” Taeyong smiles towards the baby, “Youngchul, say good morning to your best friend!” 

Both babies simply stare at each other, Youngchul’s sparkly eyes meeting Minyoung’s soft eyes. These two see each other often, but this is the first time they’ve seen each other this early in the morning. While Youngchul gnaws on his fingers, he gives Minyoung a cheerful smile accompanied by a soft coo. Minyoung returns the smile with his own, happy to see his best friend. 

Once both dads finally finish feeding themselves and their sons, they all find their way to the living room, two boys occupying themselves with the various toys on the mat while their fathers watch. Minyoung quickly finds two of his favorite toys within his proximity and crawls over to his friend, handing him one of the toys. Youngchul grabs the toy, giving his best friend a smile to show his gratitude. Both boys stare at each other again while a couple beats pass. They suddenly both burst out into laughter, seemingly talking in their own language.

“It’s really crazy how much they’ve grown,” Taeyong says, watching the babbling babies on the ground, “It really seems like just the other day they couldn’t keep their heads up.”

“I know,” Doyoung says, leaning over to wipe the drool off of Minyoung’s face, “Before we know it, they’ll be running all over the place with each other.”

“Youngchul has already started walking a bit!” Taeyong says, smiling down at his son as Youngchul crawls towards his father, hitting his hands against his father’s leg.

“Really?” Doyoung exclaims.

“He needs a little help, but with his walker at home, he walks all over the place without us! He even dances when we put music on for him.” Youngchul looks up at his father and whines, hitting his hand against his father’s leg again.

“Let’s show your Uncle Doyoung how well you can walk!” Taeyong says, extending both hands to his son. Youngchul grabs onto his father’s hands with his own and huffs, making the move to stand up on his own. Taeyong helps Youngchul a bit, helping him balance when the baby stands.

Doyoung claps from the side, “Wow! Youngchul look at you! You’re so big now!”

Doyoung counts “1...2...1...2…” repeatedly while the little baby marches on, hands in the supportive hands of his father. Youngchul giggles and smiles the entire way, liking this new form of travel.

“Oh, he’s so happy!” Doyoung says, holding his hands out now when Youngchul gets within distance. Taeyong lets go of Youngchul’s hands, letting the baby balance on his own. Doyoung holds his hands out on either side of Youngchul, getting ready to catch him when he loses balance. Taeyong counts the seconds in the background, seeing how long the wobbly baby can stand on two legs. 

“...7...8...9…!” Youngchul makes it to 9 seconds before he falls, caught easily by his uncle. Doyoung tosses Youngchul in the air, bringing him down to kiss his cheek.

“Good job, Youngchul!” Doyoung cheers. Taeyong laughs from the side, beaming with pride over the accomplishments of his son. He feels a small slap from his leg, grabbing his attention. He looks down and sees Minyoung, this time with his arms up in the air.

“Huh? You want to do what Youngchul just did?” Taeyong asks. 

“Ah!” Minyoung responds, holding up his arms.

“Has he tried to walk yet, Doyoung?” Taeyong asks, bringing Minyoung a little farther away from his dad so he could try to walk to him.

Doyoung shakes his head, placing Youngchul in his lap, “Minyoung can stand with the help of something, but anytime he tries to take a couple steps, he just falls and doesn’t want to try anymore.”

Taeyong nods, setting Minyoung down in a sitting position. “Well, let’s try with Uncle Taeyong, okay Minyoung?” 

Placing both of the baby’s hands in his own, Taeyong helps Minyoung stand just like he helped Youngchul stand. 

“Come to appa, Minyoung! Walk towards appa!” Doyoung cheers, clapping his hands at his son. Minyoung smiles and takes a step, supported by Taeyong. Doyoung cheers, trying to get his son to take steps towards him. Minyoung giggles and stomps over, walking towards his father with the help of his uncle. Youngchul claps from his uncle’s lap, excited off of the energy of the room. With a couple more wobbly steps, Minyoung makes it to his father, cheers erupting all throughout the room. Doyoung grabs his son and kisses his cheek, raining down praises. 

“You did it, Minyoung!! You’re such a big boy now!” Doyoung cheers, holding his son in his arms now. “You must really like your Uncle Taeyong. You wouldn’t even do that with me or eomma.” 

“No, don’t say that!” Taeyong laughs, sitting across from Doyoung. 

“Should we conduct a test?” Doyoung asks in a playful tone. 

“Ah!” Youngchul calls from Doyoung’s lap, responding for his father. 

“I accept that answer.” Doyoung jokes, setting Minyoung on the mat. Doyoung picks up Youngchul in his arms and carefully stands up, placing the baby on the couch for now. Taeyong follows Doyoung as they go to the opposite side of the mat, sitting on the ground. 

“Minyoung, who do you like more: Appa or Uncle Taeyong?” Doyoung asks. “If you like appa more, come and crawl towards appa! If you like Uncle more, go and crawl with him.”

Taeyong cheers from the side, trying to get Minyoung to notice him. Minyoung looks at his appa, then to his uncle, and places his hands on the ground and begins crawling. 

“Minyoung! Come to Uncle! I’ll feed you something delicious!” Taeyong cheers.

“There’s no way my son can be swayed that easily,” Doyoung scoffs, “He knows where his loyalties lie. Minyoung, come to Appa!” 

Minyoung stops in his tracks. This may seem like a hard decision to make, but Minyoung knows exactly where he’s going. Flashing one more smile, showing off his 4 growing teeth, he crawls to the person he loves most.

“I’m so confident you’ll come to Appa, I’ll close my eyes!” Doyoung jokes, shutting both of his eyes. He hears Minyoung’s giggles coming closer to him, opening his eyes so he can take his son into his arms…

“Oh? You like me? Thank you, Minyoung!” Taeyong’s giggles fill the room as he lifts up his best friend’s son, causing the baby to giggle.

Doyoung laughs, holding a hand to his heart in heartbreak, falling back. “Minyoung...How could you?”

Taeyong laughs and hugs Minyoung close, “Snacks win over love, every time.”

Doyoung shoots up, remembering the giggling baby boy on the couch. This is his chance!

“It’s no use, let’s try it with Youngchul now,” Doyoung stands up, determined to win this little competition. 

“Doyoung, just because Minyoung came to me, it doesn’t mean he loves you any less! He’s probably just happy to see his uncle he hasn’t seen in a while.”

“Quiet.” Doyoung says, grabbing Youngchul and placing the baby on the ground. 

“Let’s see who your son chooses,” Doyoung states, kneeling back in his spot, determination filling his features. 

“Doyoung, I don’t want you to be too sad when my son chooses me,” Taeyong says, placing Minyoung on the ground next to him. 

Doyoung chooses to ignore Taeyong’s remark and puts on an excited face, holding out his arms, “I know you like me more! Come to your uncle, Youngchul!”

Youngchul giggles and starts crawling on a straight path towards Doyoung.

“I don’t even think I need to get his attention. He’ll crawl towards me, watch.” Taeyong says, despite seeing his son clearly make his way towards Doyoung. 

Doyoung continues to call Youngchul, cheering him on. Taeyong starts to get nervous when he realizes it doesn’t look like Youngchul will go to Taeyong willingly on his own.

“No, Youngchul! You’re going the wrong way. Come towards appa!” Taeyong’s voice fills with desperation now, trying to get his son’s attention. Youngchul doesn’t even acknowledge his father’s calls as he reaches Doyoung, giggling when Doyoung picks him up and cheers, happy that Youngchul chose him. 

“Hey, that doesn’t mean anything!” Taeyong pouts. 

Doyoung holds Youngchul close and looks towards Taeyong, “It doesn’t feel good, does it?”

Taeyong rolls his eyes, picking up Minyoung. “Look. I bet by the end of the day, Youngchul and Minyoung will choose me.”

Doyoung raises his eyebrows at his friend, “Is that a bet?”

Taeyong nods, “By the end of the day, if both Youngchul and Minyoung choose me, I win. If Youngchul and Minyoung choose you, you win. Loser has to watch both boys for an entire day. Deal?”

Doyoung takes Taeyong’s hand and shakes it, solidifying the little competition they have just established. Doyoung’s competitive nature rarely comes out, but now that he’s a dad now, his competitive side likes to come out more often. 

Throughout the day, the two new dads do what they can to make the babies laugh, both trying to steal away as much time as possible. Doyoung dramatically acts out different fairy tales, Taeyong goes and cooks some yummy new homemade baby food for the two 8 month olds, both dads spending all of their energy both taking care of the two boys and trying to woo their hearts. 

The day drags on as Doyoung and Taeyong bounce around the living room, baby carrier around their waists with their energetic babies strapped in. Doyoung plays soft lullabies in the background, gently humming them as he caresses Minyoung's head against his chest, trying to get his son to take a nap. Taeyong breathes in deep as he makes white noise for the babies, gently  “shhh”-ing through his teeth, hugging Youngchul closer to his chest. Both Doyoung and Taeyong bounce in rhythm with each other, synchronized just like they are in their many dances. 

Doyoung laughs quietly, looking towards his best friend and whispering, “You know, we’ve been idols for so many years. We’ve had countless days of dance practices and then some, but this is the most tired I’ve been in my entire life.”

“You’re right,” Taeyong laughs, “I never knew that such small beings can have so much energy.”

Doyoung laughs again, looking down to check his son. Minyoung’s cheek stays squished up against his father’s chest, his eyes becoming droopier by the second. Doyoung returns to humming the lullabies, slowing down his bounces ever so slightly. Taeyong also looks down to check on his son, turning his head to look into his son’s eyes. Youngchul’s eyes are closed now, his chubby hand curled into a fist as his breathing slows down, indicating that he’s falling deeper into sleep. Taeyong goes into the bedroom, gently placing Youngchul into the crib, carefully taking him out of the baby carrier. He holds his breath as he carefully moves away, holding onto the carrier so it wouldn’t bump into anything. Taeyong let out a soft sigh of relief when it was successful, carefully stepping to the side so Doyoung could place Minyoung inside of the crib as well. Going through the same nerve wracking process Taeyong went through, Doyoung successfully places Minyoung into the crib alongside Youngchul, both babies drifting off to a deep sleep. Taeyong and Doyoung quietly leave the room, Doyoung carefully closing the door. 

Both dads head back into the living room, simultaneously collapsing on the couch in exhaustion. A couple minutes of silence passes between the two of them, both of them too tired to even talk. 

“I just realized we haven’t eaten lunch yet,” Doyoung says from his spot on the couch, making no effort to go to the kitchen to make something for them to eat.

“Should we just order delivery?” Taeyong asks, sinking further down into the couch. His entire body felt like lead, his joints aching and screaming at him to never move ever again. 

Doyoung takes a deep breath and puts all of his remaining energy into getting up from his spot to reach his phone he threw onto the couch hours ago. His soul leaves his body after he opens his phone, remembering that the one thing you told him to do is the one thing he forgot to do. He anxiously bites his lips as he checks the time, 3:23 PM.

He’s too late.

“Hyung,” Doyoung says, nudging Taeyong’s leg. “I’m so screwed.”

“What happened?” Taeyong says, groaning quietly as he sits up as well, looking at Doyoung’s phone. 

“Y/N asked me to take Minyoung to get a haircut before 3:00 and I forgot,” Doyoung says, his eyes wide and heart beating quickly. “What do I do now? It’s past 3:00!”

Taeyong’s eyes fill with concern as well, trying to find a solution to Doyoung’s problem, “Do you think you can go somewhere else? Other places should still be open...”

Doyoung shakes his head, “Y/N’s friend works at that place and not only was she going to give the haircut for free, I also had to return a necklace Y/N borrowed from her.”

Both Doyoung and Taeyong fall silent as they try to come up with a solution to this problem. Doyoung really did screw up this time. 

Doyoung gasps, causing Taeyong’s attention to go towards him, “I have an idea.” 

Taeyong nods, indicating Doyoung to continue.

“I can quickly go over to the salon, drop off the necklace, explain to Y/N’s friend about the situation, then I can run home and cut Minyoung’s hair myself!”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Taeyong asks.

“There’s no other way, Hyung.” Doyoung says, already standing up and making his way back into the bedroom to grab the necklace you borrowed. 

“I’ll grab food while I’m out, please take care of the boys for a bit. You know where everything is, right?” Doyoung asks, putting on a hat and grabbing his keys. Taeyong stands up and yawns, trying to keep up with his busy friend.

“I’ll manage. Keep me updated, though. When are the girls supposed to come back?” Taeyong asks as he follows Doyoung to the front door. 

“Y/N said that they’re not coming back until 8:00 by earliest. Y/BF/N is also trying to choose a place for the rehearsal dinner tonight so they’ll be eating out, too.”

Taeyong nods, sticking his head out of the door, seeing Doyoung off.

“Good luck,” Taeyong says as Doyoung rushes off, making his way to the salon. 

---

The front door opens as Doyoung makes his way back inside, a plastic bag full of food in his hands. 

“How did it go?” Taeyong asks, quickly reaching over to grab the food from Doyoung’s hands as he removes his shoes. 

“It went well, actually.” Doyoung replies, removing his hat. “She was actually really busy with the walk-ins that she also forgot that we were coming in. She said that Y/N never texted her to check if we went, so as far as I know, Y/N doesn’t know that we forgot.”

“Well, that’s good,” Taeyong says as they make their way to the dining table, taking out the food Doyoung brought back. Doyoung makes his way to the sink and washes his hands.

“She also taught me how to cut Minyoung’s hair, so everything should be fine. How did it go over here, though? Are the boys okay?” Doyoung asks as he dries his hands.

“They’ve been asleep the entire time. Minyoung woke up briefly but I just gave him a pacifier and he calmed right down and went to sleep. It’s almost as if my presence alone calmed him down.” Taeyong jokes, sitting down across from Doyoung. Doyoung rolls his eyes, his stomach rumbling at the smell of the food. Both Taeyong and Doyoung didn’t realize how hungry they’ve become. 

Doyoung turns on their TV, putting on a random show that gently plays in the background. Both dads eat with vigor, eating as if this is the first meal they’ve had in a week. They both stuff their faces, not caring if they eat too quickly. 

Once they finish off their meal and clean up, they make their way back into the living room, trying to get in a little bit of relaxation before the two babies wake up. Doyoung puts on videos of haircuts for infants on the TV, studying up before the real thing. 

“I thought you knew how,” Taeyong says, watching the video on the screen as well. 

Doyoung shakes his head, “I mean, the explanation she gave me was super quick and this is, quite frankly, the first time I’ve ever cut hair.”

“Don’t forget, the competition is still happening,” Taeyong says, “Just because you forgot to do the one task your wife asked you to do, doesn’t mean that I hold any sympathy. I will win.”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Doyoung says, too tired to argue at this point. 

Youngchul’s cry rings behind the closed bedroom door, both dads jumping into action. 

“Did you wake up, Youngchul?” Taeyong asks, grabbing his son from the crib. Minyoung cries as well, being awakened by the cries of his friend. 

“Minyoung, it’s okay, appa’s here!” Doyoung shushes his son, picking him up as well. 

Both dads get back into it, changing their sons’ diapers, giving them both a quick refresher, some rice puffs as a little pick-me-up, all before it’s time. 

Doyoung sighs from his spot on the ground, his hands shaking as he examines his son’s hair. Taeyong sits on the couch, Youngchul on his lap as they both watch Doyoung and Minyoung. 

“Do you need any help?” Taeyong asks, just as nervous as Doyoung is. 

Doyoung shakes his head, “I can’t get you roped into this as well.” Doyoung grabs the spray bottle from the side, spraying his son's hair with water and gently brushing it down.

“I can do it. If I deal with Haechan for more than 10 years, I can deal with this.” 

Minyoung looks down at his toys, playing with a small, red, squishy fire truck that he places in his lap. A towel drapes his shoulders as Minyoung stays still, not making any sudden movements as his dad brushes his long hair.

“Okay, I’m going to cut now,” Doyoung says, his shaky hands reaching for the scissors. Taeyong puts a hand over his eyes and puts one around Youngchul’s as well, both boys too nervous to watch. Doyoung measures out his son’s long bangs with his index and middle finger before raising up the delicate hair he holds between his fingers. He grabs the scissors and takes a deep breath, holding it as he begins to cut. 

Snip.

Minyoung’s hair falls around him, landing on the towel and ground. Doyoung cut Minyoung’s hair in a straight line, remembering what your friend and the videos taught him. He takes the hair and textures it, cutting the hair vertically. Doyoung brushes it down to check the length.

“Oh no.” Doyoung says, brushing his son’s hair. 

“What happened?” Taeyong asks, taking his hand away from his eyes. He looks down at Minyoung, trying to see the damage done. 

“Oh no.” Taeyong says as well.

Minyoung’s bangs were definitely shorter. Instead of falling just to the middle of the forehead like it should have been, they fell well above it… well, at least, some parts of it. Doyoung was not careful when he was trying to texture the hair, cutting off big chunks of it causing Minyoung’s bangs to just look uneven. 

“I mean, it looks trendy! The short bangs are the biggest trend for babies these days” Taeyong says, trying to find light in this situation. Doyoung frantically combs his son’s hair, trying to see if his mistakes look noticeable at different angles. Regardless of what he does, Minyoung’s hair just falls back to their place, showing off all of the uneven cuts. 

“It’s not that bad, right?” Doyoung says, brushing his son’s hair again.

Taeyong shakes his head, “Minyoung’s hair has been cut! The instructions are now complete.”

Doyoung nods back, brushing off all of the cut hair from the towel and the ground. He grabs his son and places him next to Taeyong as he gets a broom to sweep up the hair, hiding the evidence. 

Taeyong brushes Minyoung’s newly cut hair, doing all he can to hold back his laughter, “You’re so trendy, Minyoung!” 

Doyoung sits back down after putting everything away, looking at his son again.

“It’s not that bad, I think?” Doyoung says. “Minyoung, look at me!”

Minyoung turns his head to look at his dad, his short, uneven bangs looking worse by the second.

Doyoung couldn’t hold it back anymore and lets out a hearty laugh, “I’m so sorry, Minyoung.”

Taeyong joins the laughter, “What were we thinking?” 

Doyoung shakes his head, laughing, “It’s just hair. It will grow back. It’ll all be okay.”

He picks up his son, looking down into his big eyes. Minyoung looks up at his father and suddenly starts laughing, causing Doyoung to smile back.

“Oh? Are you happy, Minyoung?” Doyoung laughs with the biggest smile on his face. “We can actually see your handsome face now, Minyoung! You’ve never looked happier!”

Doyoung jumps up and bounces his son, trying to keep Minyoung laughing.

“Look at how happy you are, Minyoung!” Doyoung cheers, happiness evident in his voice. Minyoung seemingly assures him through his cheerful giggles that everything will be okay. 

---

Towards the end of the day, Taeyong and Doyoung find themselves both on the ground again, Minyoung at the other side of the living room. 

“Doyoung, just accept your defeat now,” Taeyong says, “You already messed up the haircut, it’s only fair that Minyoung will choose me.

Doyoung rolls his eyes, “If anything, he’s glad that he can see his appa now. He’ll come to me, watch.”

Minyoung sits on the ground, looking at his dad and his uncle at the other side of the room. Doyoung claps his hands together, showing his son the biggest smile out of desperation, calling out to Minyoung to come towards him. Taeyong does the same, bouncing up and down, trying to grab Minyoung’s attention. 

“Snacks, Minyoung. Don’t forget the snacks!” Taeyong says.

“Minyoung, if you love your appa, come towards me!” Doyoung cheers, a slight tone of desperation apparent in his voice. 

“Appa!” Minyoung says, the gummiest smile on his face. Minyoung gets on all fours and starts crawling, this time, not towards Taeyong, but towards Doyoung?

“Minyoung, I love you! You’re doing it!” Doyoung smiles, his expression getting happier by the second.

“Appa!” Minyoung says again, crawling even faster towards Doyoung until he ultimately reaches his father, giggles all throughout the air.

Doyoung tosses his son into the air, catching him and covering his faces with billions of kisses. “You’re so happy, aren’t you? You can see your appa now!”

Even though he lost, Taeyong laughs alongside his best friend, the happiness in the room too contagious to ignore. 

“Alright, Youngchul, it’s your turn!” Doyoung says, standing up and walking towards the baby sitting on the couch. “Wow, I didn’t think Minyoung would actually come to me.”

“You seemed so confident, though, Doyoung.” Taeyong laughs.

Doyoung ignores Taeyong’s comment and places Youngchul on the ground, quickly rushing back next to Taeyong. 

“Youngchul, my darling son, come towards appa! If you love appa, come to me!” Taeyong cheers, bouncing up and down just as he did for Minyoung.

Doyoung hits Taeyong’s arm, “Hey! Don’t steal my methods! Youngchul, come to your favorite uncle! If you come to me, we’ll win!”

Youngchul’s starry eyes look up from his spot at the other side of the living room. He looks up at his dad, smiling as he sees him bounce up and down like a crazy man. His eyes move to Doyoung, watching his uncle clap and give gummy smiles, happily cheering for Youngchul. 

“Appa! Appa!” Youngchul cheers, moving onto all fours, attempting to crawl. 

“Yes! I’m appa! Come to appa!” Taeyong says, doing his best to not jump towards his son. 

Minyoung sits on the right side of his dad, shaking one of his toys proudly, trying to show as much excitement as the two dads in the room are. Youngchul’s attention is immediately grabbed by Minyoung and his rattling toy, causing him to change directions and head straight towards him. 

“Are you coming towards me?” Doyoung says, shocked that Youngchul changed his mind from heading to Taeyong to heading more towards Doyoung.

“Ah!” Youngchul cheers, heading even faster towards Minyoung. He sits right in front of Minyoung, clapping his hands together in delight that he’s closer with his best friend. Minyoung claps too, accidentally giving the toy to Youngchul who now grabs the toy and shakes it himself. 

“He went to Minyoung.” Doyoung says, looking at Taeyong.

“What does that mean?” Taeyong asks, trying to evaluate the situation. 

“This was an unexpected outcome,” Doyoung gets up from his spot, “It’s only fair that I won since Minyoung actually came to me.” 

“Okay, but the competition isn’t technically over! We didn’t make rules if Youngchul went to Minyoung.” Taeyong pouts, reaching over to wipe off the drool that leaks from his son’s smiley face. 

“Just accept your defeat, Taeyong.”

“But I didn’t even lose! The game isn’t over!”

“The game is over! I have 2 points and you and Minyoung are tied for second place with 1 point each!”

“Minyoung doesn’t count!”

“You’re saying my son doesn’t count?”

“Okay, you know that’s not what I mean! I’m just saying that he wasn’t in the rules, so his point doesn’t count!”

“Look, you’re just being a sore loser… Just accept it!”

“But I didn’t lose! Let’s put Minyoung on the couch and try agai--”

“--We’re home!”

The front door unlocks as you walk in, Taeyong’s wife and your best friend trailing behind.

“Where’s my Youngchul?” T/W/N asks, quickly removing her shoes to rush inside as quickly as possible, running past you.

“Ma! Ma!” Youngchul cheers when he hears his mother’s voice. She walks towards the living room, gasping in excitement when she sees her baby.

“Peek-a-boo! There you are!” she smiles, completely ignoring her pouting husband and going over to pick up her son, raining kisses on his cheeks. 

You trail behind her, equally as excited to see your son.

“Minyoung! Eomma’s home!” You cheer, gasping as well when you see your son, except, not quite from excitement. 

“Welcome home, babe!” Doyoung jumps up and tries to hug you, attempting to distract you from the botched haircut that he hopes you didn’t see. You totally saw it. 

You dodge his hug and grab your son, examining his unfortunate hair. “Minyoung! What happened to your hair? Why is it so short? Why is it so uneven?”

Taeyong and Doyoung both do their best to remove themselves from the situation, asking your best friend about the wedding dress as she heads inside, also noticing the botched haircut.

“Doyoung, what happened to Minyoung’s hair?” you ask, frantically brushing what’s left of Minyoung’s hair with your hands.

“Hm? Oh that? Well you see… what had happened was…” he begins, his eyes avoiding your’s. 

“The truth, Doyoung.” you say, knowing well that he would have come up with a crazy story before finally telling the truth. 

“Taeyong and I--”

“--wait, wait, wait. No,” Taeyong starts, “Don’t drag me in on this. If I knew, I would have reminded him. I sw-- OW!” His attempt at defending was cut short when his wife pinched his side.

“You still should have stopped him!” she scolds. Taeyong holds up two hands, planning to not chime in anymore.

Doyoung takes a deep breath, “Okay, okay. I was really busy and overwhelmed with taking care of the three babies--”

“--Wait. Three babies?”

“Taeyong.”

“Sorry.”

“As I was saying,” Doyoung begins again, “I was so busy taking care of the babies that by the time I realized I forgot, it was too late, so I decided to do it myself. I returned the necklace! So don’t worry about th--”

“--You really think the necklace is my biggest concern right now? Our son looks like-- he looks like--” You say, doing your best to control your anger. You take a look at your son again, seeing the Doyoung mini-me look at you with the softest eyes. When Minyoung notices your eyes on his, he smiles, happy to see his mom after an entire day.

“He… actually looks kinda cute.” You say, your son’s contagious smile causes you to smile as well. 

“I know, I know, I'm so sorr-- wait what? He looks what?” Doyoung says, shock prevalent in his voice. 

“He actually does look cute!” Your best friend now chimes in, standing beside you and looking at Minyoung. “This style of hair is very trendy amongst babies. I mean, not this extreme, but still!”

Minyoung’s smiles knowing that your best friend is near. He smiles and leans towards her, wanting to be held by her.

“Oh? You wanna come to me?” she asks as she holds her out her hands and carefully takes your son into her arms. Minyoung is all smiles in her arms, happy to see her after a long time.

“He does look cute, now that I think about it,” Taeyong’s wife says, “Little Minyoung is so handsome, he can pull off any haircut!”

Doyoung and Taeyong look at each other, both awestruck by unexpected reactions they received. You and the girls all gush over the babies, bringing up how one of their favorite celebrity’s baby also has the same haircut.

“So… you’re not mad?” Doyoung asks gently, trying not to get you any angrier if you were.

“I’m not mad. Just next time… let’s leave the haircutting to the professionals, Doyoung.”

---

ahh and it’s done! i had so much fun writing this scenario!

i have more scenarios in the works including some return of the superman situations!

i hope you guys liked this one and let me know if you have any requests! my requests are open :)

let me know what you guys think!

- amy <3

#cznnet #nct #nct fluff #kim doyoung #doyoung fluff #nct as dads #dad!nct #dad!doyoung #doyoung as a dad #dad doyoung #fluff #kpop fluff #kpop imagine #taeil #johnny #yuta #kun #doyoung #ten #jaehyun #winwin #lucas #mark #xiaojun #hendery #renjun #jeno #taeyong #nct imagines #doyoung imagine

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Second Chances - Ch. 8

Finding Courage

Warnings: Swearing, angst, grief, fluff with an extra serving of fluff! 

Word count: ~10,000

**Author’s note: A book is mentioned that wasn’t published until 1999, but humor me. It’s fiction! 

It’s been three weeks since Arthur brought you back to camp. Your ribs and head have mostly healed and cause little pain. Your leg, on the other hand, still has a ways to go. You are starting to get bored and stir crazy, trapped in camp. Strauss determined, shortly after you came back, that you would need around 6 weeks of recuperation, and Grimshaw is hell bent that you don’t leave Arthur’s tent until you can walk again. 

Nearly everyone in camp has come to your aid in relieving the boredom. Mary-Beth will sometimes come and sit next to you, discussing books as the two of you knit. She brings you the materials so you don’t have to leave the cot. Javier occasionally sits next to you and plays his guitar or tells you stories about Mexico. One day Jack even comes, offering you a string of flowers to wear around your head that he made himself. You feel extraordinarily grateful to all of them. However, no one can light a candle to Arthur’s efforts.

He’s hardly left camp, determined to take care of you. He brings you coffee every morning and Pearson’s stew every night. As much as you appreciate it, you also wish he’d go out and do things for himself the way he did before you left. He has done one thing for you that you have greatly enjoyed. Nearly every afternoon, he comes into the tent with a book and he reads to you. Sometimes, he’ll hand you the book and have you do it, but you secretly adore it when he’s the one reading. You love hearing his deep, gentle voice. His face softer when he reads, brightening his eyes. 

You feel bad for taking the man’s tent and cot. A week after you returned, you tried to offer it back to him, saying you could go sleep in your own tent and bedroll, but he refused, stating you needed it more than him. He’s been spending his nights sleeping close to you, usually on the ground propped up against the crates. 

It’s nearly afternoon now and Arthur’s been in camp all day. You’ve been keeping an eye on him, watching as he does chores during the morning. He approaches you, smiling.

“Hey there, Y/N,” he greets, sitting down in the chair that’s remained in the tent. “I need to go huntin’ again, Pearson’s gettin’ real low. But listen, I ain’t gonna go far. When I get back, we can read some more if ya like.”

“Sounds good. I hope Hosea has a new book, think we’ve breezed through his collection already.”

He chuckles. “I’m sure he has one ya ain’t read. ‘Sides, I’m shoar Mary-Beth would be more than happy to lend ya one of hers.”

You sigh, a soft smile on your lips. “Wish I could go with you,” you admit. “I’m getting so bored! If only this damn leg would get better.”

“I know, ya just gotta be patient. Anyways, I need to get goin’.” 

He stands up and heads off. Over the past couple of weeks, you’ve been careful with your emotions around him. You’ve done nothing to show you’re still interested, despite it being completely true. If anything, your feelings have gotten stronger, but so has your friendship, and you refuse to let anything ruin that again. He climbs onto Artemis’s saddle and leaves after waving to you.

You wave back, feeling your heart sink. A few days after you had returned, you remembered what happened to Rain. The pain from your leg has been nothing in comparison to the loss of your horse. You tell yourself she was just a horse, an animal. Still the pain of losing such a close friend and companion is so deep sometimes you feel like you’re drowning. You’ve been trying your best to hide it all from Arthur and everyone else, but there are few things you’ve done that are more difficult than suppressing them. Now that no one is around to see you, you lie down on your side, facing the wagon. You silently acknowledge the pain now and let the tears stream down your face, soaking the pillow. It feels like someone shot you in the chest, leaving a gaping hole that cannot be filled. You wish you couldn’t feel anything, it would be so much easier. You purposefully clench your leg in a way that you know will force it to flare, the physical pain is a great distraction and far preferable to what you feel in your heart.  

You must have fallen asleep; someone shakes your shoulder gently.

“Y/N, ya awake?” Arthur quietly asks. 

You turn, rubbing your sore eyes, looking up at him and sitting up. “Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake ya. I have somethin’ for ya, though.”

You look at him as he sits down and reaches into his satchel. “I stopped in Valentine, needed to get somethin’ from the store. Found this, thought ya might like it.” 

He hands you a thin book. The green cover has a sketch of a horse’s head, framed in gold ivy. You read the words above the sketch. “Black Beauty,” you say.

“Yeah, thought it might be different. I ain’t never read it before. Figured we could try it.”

You smile as your eyes begin to water. “Thank you, Arthur.”

He smiles sadly at you. “I know ya miss her, darlin’. Rain. She was a good horse.”

“The best,” you say, wiping your eyes. He grabs your hand, running a thumb over it. “It’s hard, sweetheart. I still miss Boadicea. Every day, ‘s matter of fact.”

“But you have Artemis, and I know how much you like her.”

“I do, but that don’t mean I don’t miss Boadicea. What I’m tryin’ to say is it’s okay to miss her, but that don’t mean ya can’t get another horse and care about it, too.”

You can’t prevent the tears falling again. “I just… it makes me feel so weak to feel this way. Sometimes it’s like I can’t breathe.”

“I know,” he says, squeezing your hand. “But to be honest, if ya didn’t feel this way, I’d be more worried about you.”

You sit there in silence, trying to wipe the tears from your face, which seems pointless since they keep falling. He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a thin cloth, handing it to you. 

“You wanna tell me about her?” he asks softly, taking hold of your hand again. 

You smile, despite the pain. “Yeah” you sniff hard, composing yourself enough to talk. “When I was about 10 or so, my grandma had this big, black mare. She got pregnant. I was staying in her cabin when the horse went into labor. My grandma was one of the toughest people I ever known. She had me help her with the foaling. While we were in the barn, a huge thunderstorm came on us. Rained like the devil. My grandma handed her to me right after she was born. I held her head in my lap while we waited for her to start breathing. She was so goddamn cute! We stayed up for hours, cleaning her up, petting her all over. Then she finally stood. When she started nursin’, my grandma told me to name her. I remember listening to the rain outside; that’s how I named her.”

You wipe your eyes as a new wave of tears hits you. Arthur rubs your hand encouragingly. “My grandma told me that she wanted me to take care of the foal. I didn’t live with her, but I visited her every day after that. She showed me how to train her to take a halter, bridle, saddle. Then she taught me how to groom her, clean her feet. When she was about a year, she taught me how to ride on her. We learned together. I can’t tell you how many trail rides I went on with my grandma after that. She used to tell me how Rain would pine for me when I wasn’t there.”

You smile fondly at the memory, your chest clenches painfully. “Then my grandma died a few years later. My dad sold every horse she had, including Rain’s mom. Made a lot of money, too. He tried to sell Rain as well. That was the scariest time of my life. I thought I was gonna lose her. Somehow, though, I convinced him to let me keep her with his grumpy old gelding. She came with me when I got married. I remember one time my husband was outside. He was real drunk, stumblin’ all over the place. He somehow made it inside our pasture. Rain walked over to him just so she could kick him!” you chuckle, Arthur joining in. “Probably a good thing he was drunk; he couldn’t remember a thing about it later on. I’ve always been able to trust her. Knew she’d never let me down. She was the only thing I could depend on after my grandma died. And now I’ve lost her!” 

Your voice gives out as the pain overtakes you, forcing your knees to your chest. Arthur lets go of your hand and places it on your back, rubbing gently. He stays silent as you sob into your hands. When you begin to quiet down, he speaks up.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’. I never knew you had that kind of connection to her. Makes me and Boadicea seem like a regular pair of fools. But I want ya to know something.” He takes his hand and places it under your chin, turning your wet face to look at him. His thumb wipes away a tear from your cheek. “She’s happy, I’m shoar. She’s up there in a great prairie, where she can eat, drink and play all day long. She still remembers ya, though, and no matter what happens, she’ll always be with ya. Don’t ever doubt it. She wants ya to be happy because ya made her so happy.”

You close your eyes, fresh tears dripping from your eyes. Arthur’s face is so close you can feel his hot breath on you. You open your eyes and see yourself reflected in his blue ones, the scar on his chin. His scent envelopes you; that smell of pine and leather. He’s starting to lean in, you can’t stop looking at his lips. 

Reverend Swanson stumbles over, waving around a bottle. “One night when I was frisky,” he starts singing loudly. Arthur and you dart away from each other, startled by his sudden presence. “After drinkin’ some potent whisky!” He continues on. His red, puffy eyes find the pair of you and he smiles broadly, making his clumsy way to you. 

“Hey, you two! I want ya to know,” he stumbles, leaning against the pole that holds up the canvas above your heads. “That you are children of God! Children of God!” 

He suddenly slumps onto the ground, unconscious. 

“Damn it, Swanson,” Arthur grumbles as you giggle. He stands up and picks up Swanson, kicking his empty bottle away. You wipe your eyes as he heaves the Reverend back to his own cot. You hear someone calling his name after that, asking him for his help.

Sometime after the incident with Swanson, you’re lying in the cot still. You’ve managed to compose yourself after your meltdown, but you still hold the book Arthur brought you. You haven’t opened it, waiting for him to return so you can read it together. 

Charles enters the tent, holding a long, wooden cane. He looks at you; he seems nervous. “Hello, Y/N,” he greets.

“Hey there, Charles,” you smile. 

He holds up the cane. “I, ugh… I made this for you. I know you won’t be able to walk for a bit, but I thought it could help you.”

You look closely at the cane as you take it from him. It’s made of dark wood, the handle has been carved into the intricate form of an owl. You run your thumb over its orb-like eyes. 

“Charles, this is amazing!”

He gives you a rare smile. “I just wanted to let you know how much this camp’s appreciated you. Ya know, Pearson’s stew hasn’t been this lean on meat since Colter.”

You chortle. “Well, that means a lot to me, Charles. Thank you so much.”

He nods and leaves. You glance back at the cane, admiring the delicate carvings. You feel honored to receive such a beautiful gift, despite the fact that you and Charles have rarely even spoken to one another. 

Arthur returns, followed by John, Bill and the O’Driscoll prisoner, whom you learned a while back is named Kieran Duffy. He looks around nervously, particularly at the tree he’s been tied to since the gang arrived here. You’ve spent hardly any time around him since you yourself were a prisoner of sorts until recently and didn’t want to be seen interacting with a known enemy. You come to a decision, determined to pull it off. 

You throw off the blanket, swinging your legs so they dangle off the cot. Your thigh complains at the movement, but you ignore it. You press your feet to the ground, basking in the feeling of grass against your skin again. You grasp the cane as hard as you can, using it to begin lifting yourself up. 

“Woah, woah!” a voice calls out, getting close to you. Lifting up your head, you see it’s Arthur. “What ya doin’, girl?”

He approaches you so quickly you sit back down on the cot. 

“I’m bored, Arthur. I been layin’ here for weeks! I wanna get up, see the world. Even the other side of camp would be a welcome sight.”

He huffs, standing in front of you. “I know. I don’t know if yer strong enough, though. Don’t want ya hurtin’ yer leg again.”

You straighten up. “I can handle it just fine, Arthur. Besides, I have this to help me.”

You lift up the cane. Arthur grabs and inspects it. “Where you get this from?”

“Charles. Said he made it for me.”

“Well, that’s real fine,” he says, smiling as he hands it back to you. “Tell ya what, ya can try standin’ and walkin’, but I ain’t leavin’ yer side.”

“Deal.” You situate the cane again, using it to pull yourself up. Arthur offers you his hand, which you take. He helps lift you up, letting you put a good portion of your weight against him as you slowly start to press down on your leg. Although it hurts like hell, it seems like it will hold your weight. For now, at least. 

Arthur takes a step away from you, still holding onto your hand. He gestures to you, telling you to walk forward to him. You take a hesitant step, moving the cane with your leg. You can tell instantly by the shaking and the pain that if Arthur weren’t there, you’d have fallen already. You look down, shaking your head.

“Maybe you’re right, Arthur. I don’t know if I can do this.”

He sighs heavily. “I ain’t surprised. Well, can ya stand on it at least?”

You slowly nod, a little unsure. 

“Good. Ya mind if I…” he gestures his arms towards you, wrapping one around your waist while the other approaches your knees. You realize he’s offering to pick you up. You nod your head and drape an arm over his shoulder before he sweeps you up effortlessly into his arms. You hold on tight to your cane; it dangles from your grip as he swings around and walks towards the hitching post where Artemis is tied. You see Hosea and Grimshaw looking at the two of you, smiling. You try your best to prevent the blush in your cheeks as he carries you over to the large grey horse, setting you down close to her. He stands behind you, letting you use him as a pillar to lean on in case your leg gives out.

You test your aching thigh, finding it capable of holding you up. You reach up with your arms and pat Artemis’s neck. She rumbles softly, the sound low and deep, swishing her tail. Her ears point back so she can hear you, her eyes soft as she chews slowly. 

“Ah, knew she’d remember ya,” Arthur says softly behind you. He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a treat, handing it to you. You take it and offer it to the large horse. You continue to pet her as she munches on it. 

After a few moments, your leg begins to remind you that it’s still wounded. You do your best to turn to Arthur. “Thank you for this,” you say, smiling up at him, limping. “You’ve no idea how nice it is to pet a horse again. Even if it’s not…”

His hand reaches up and settles on your upper arm, his thumb tracing lines. Without a word, he sweeps you up into his arms and towards the tent. You hear from the direction of the campfire the sound of Javier playing his guitar. 

“Arthur, wait. Will you take me to the campfire?”

He stops and looks. “Shoar, why not?”

He changes directions and takes you over, setting you down carefully on one of the logs. You adjust your leg so the pain is hardly noticeable. Arthur sits down close to you, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. 

Javier stops playing, looking up at you. “Hola, Y/N,” he says.

“Hi, Javier. Please don’t stop playing on my account.”

He smiles as his fingers expertly pluck at the strings again. “Glad to see you finally out of that tent.”

“Me too. Arthur here’s too kind to let me use it, but I’m ready to leave.”

The two men chuckle. Arthur hands you his cigarette. You take it and drag from it as Javier begins singing in Spanish. The sound of the guitar and his voice washes over you. You’d take this any day over Dutch’s gramophone, especially since you swear Dutch likes to play it either late at night or unforgivably early in the morning. It’s amazing it hasn’t mysteriously disappeared. You hand Arthur back his cigarette, trading smiles with him. 

A few days later, you’re standing in camp, leaning against the table where Lenny and Micah play five finger fillet. You’ve been standing up each day, even taking a few steps, trying to gain the strength back in your legs. You feel particularly proud today since you managed to walk all the way to the table by yourself, despite the pain. You had to use the cane, of course, and it took an unimaginably long time, but you did it. Your leg throbs painfully now, having been strained by the walk. 

Arthur’s not in camp. Dutch had sent him out early this morning to go meet with someone named Trelawney with Charles and Javier to retrieve Sean. Word is that Sean is being held near Blackwater by bounty hunters, so the group left to go and get him back. You have to say you’re looking forward to seeing him again. He always has a way to lighten up the mood in camp. You just hope nothing goes wrong.

Hosea approaches you as you lean up against the table.

“Hello, Y/N,” he says as he uses a mortar and pestle to grind up some herbs. You recognize it instantly. After Grimshaw and the others had you cleaned and stitched up, Hosea made a highly useful combination of grounded herbs to help with the pain. Swanson had given you a dose of his morphine previously, but you didn’t like how fuzzy it made you feel. It also tended to make you feel nauseous and sick. You wondered how he managed to take it so frequently. Soon afterwards, Hosea introduced you to the herbs. They didn’t knock out the pain as effectively as the morphine, but at least they didn’t make you sleepy. 

“Keep on giving me that stuff, Hosea, and I’ll live to be a hundred,” you joke as he leans next to you. 

He laughs. “That’s the idea. How’s that book you and Arthur been readin’? What’s it called again?”

“Black Beauty,” you say fondly. You and Arthur have been reading from it nearly every day since he brought it to you. You’ve grown fond of it, even though it makes you miss Rain. 

“That’s the one. Ya mind if I borrow it when yer done?”

“Sure. Don’t know if it’s really up your alley, though.” Arthur mentioned that Hosea was more of a mystery fan when it came to books. 

“I’m always open to new stories,” he says with a sly smile. “Arthur tells me yer gettin’ real good with readin’ and writin’.”

You smile. “Yeah. Hard to believe only two months ago, I couldn’t read. Seems like a lifetime ago that I was runnin’ on my own.”

“It’s lucky Arthur found ya. You’ve been good for each other.”

You smile wider, staring off into the camp as Hosea continues to grind the herbs. Lenny, standing in the trees, shouts that someone’s coming. Javier prances in on Boaz, his silver paint; Sean sitting behind him. He hollers loudly, calling the entire camp’s attention to him. Charles follows behind, rolling his dark eyes.

“Fear no more, ladies and gents!” Sean yells loudly in his thick Irish accent, spreading his arms wide open. “The life of te party is back!”

You can’t help but laugh as he hops off Boaz; you can tell by Javier’s face that he was quite the companion. Javier dismounts, muttering in Spanish, stalking off to the campfire. 

“Ol’ Grimshaw!” Sean yells as Susan walks past, holding a cup of coffee. “Don’t ya worry, lass! I’ll get these girls whipped up into shape again! Pearson!” he yells at the cook, skinning a rabbit. “That pot o’ yours will never ‘ave been fuller now I’m back!”

Pearson and Grimshaw laugh. Sean turns and sees you next to Hosea. He notices the the way you hold your leg, cane in hand.

“Ah, it wouldn’t be right if ya didn’t have some new injury to show off!” he guffaws, approaching you. You can’t help but chuckle with him. “You and John could be best mates! Ol’ Scar Face and the One-Legged Belle!”

You guffaw, “Yeah, ‘cept I still have my leg, ya dolt!”

He stands next to you and drapes an arm lazily over your shoulder, not noticing your attempts to gently shrug it off. 

“Ah, o’ course, o’ course. Bet ya gave te bastard who tried rippin’ it off quite a time, though. Hardly known a better butcher than you, ‘cept for old Arthur maybe!”

You giggle, finally pulling his arm off of you. Hosea walks off, shaking his head fondly. Just then, Arthur trots in on Artemis. You turn to face him, smiling widely. He smiles back as he dismounts. 

“Ah, and if it isn’t ol’ grumpy Morgan now! Don’t know why ya hang wit’ him so much. Such a downer, that one!”

You laugh, waving him off. Sean struts away, calling to Uncle. Arthur comes and stands in front of you, hands on his gun belt. 

“Ya manage to get over here on yer own?” he asks.

You smile proudly. “I sure did! Only took me half an hour. Glad you got Sean out of there, even if he talks too much.”

“Yeah, he might be a loud mouth and a braggart, but he’s a good kid.” He smiles, reaching into his satchel. He pulls his hand out, which is clenched around something. 

“I, ugh,” he begins before clearing his throat loudly. “Found this when I was headin’ back. Well, after I helped some wildlife photographer get his bag back from a greedy coyote. Reminded me of you.”

He opens his hand and reveals a necklace made of a silver chain. Dangling from it inlaid in a silver clasp is a small sapphyre. You look up at him after admiring the stone.

“Arthur, you didn’t have to get me this,” you say. “How much this cost you?”

He huffs. “Technically, it didn’t cost me nothin’. Some guy on the trail bumped into me, then demanded I apologize.”

You laugh. “I imagine that didn’t end well for him.”

“No, it didn’t. He’s fine, though, if yer wonderin’. I only took his money and found this in his pocket. I was gonna sell it until I saw it proper. Thought you might like it.”

Your heart swells as he puts it around your neck, latching the chain to the hook. You admire it as it rests on your chest, then look up at him again. 

“Thank you, Arthur. But seriously, you should have sold it. Bet ya could’ve gotten twelve dollars for it, if not more.”

“Nah, I think I prefer it this way. Looks nice on you.”

His hand comes up to settle on your upper arm. You find yourself placing your hand on his chest, feeling the stamped leather of his red vest. He starts pulling you closer, shrinking the gap between you. His eyes are mirroring yours. 

You hear someone yell Arthur’s name. John walks up and the two of you split immediately, hoping he didn’t see you standing so close to one another. 

“Morgan,” he says again. The look on his face says he didn’t notice your close proximity to one another, and if he did it doesn’t show. “Mary-Beth said somethin’ ‘bout that train goin’ south to Saint Denise. I think we oughta start plannin’ on it, see if we can take it.”

Arthur sighs in frustration as you lean back on the table. “Robbin’ trains are a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, but she did some diggin’. The take should be real good. ‘Sides, I have a few ideas for it.”

“Fine,” Arthur says. He glances at you before leaving with John, heading for the other side of camp. You clutch your cane and start preparing yourself to walk back to Arthur’s tent. 

“Well, well,” says a greasy voice from behind you. “Looks like Ms. High-and-Mighty decided to grace us with her presence and leave her cozy little tent!” 

You turn and glare at Micah. 

He sneers at you. “Was wonderin’ when you’d finally leave Morgan’s cot. Not that I’m surprised. I thought you’d have invited him into your bed a long time ago.”

You stand up as straight as you can, ignoring the pain. “I ain’t that kind of girl, Mr. Bell. Besides, I’d let him or anyone else in this camp in my bed before I’d ever let you even come close.”

He snickers. “Ya always did have a soft spot for him, didn’t ya? Well, I hate to break it to ya, sweetheart, but he’s still got somethin’ for that Mary girl. Now I bet she’s a fine woman. The kind that could make a man wanna kill another man. Doubt anyone would even look twice at you if she were around.”

Your temper flares. You know he’s just trying to upset you. “How would you know, Micah? Ya ever seen her? I doubt it, the sight of you is enough to make anyone nauseous.”

Laughing again, he approaches you. “Because Morgan only goes after pretty girls.” He grins nastily at you as he leaves. You wish your leg was stronger, you’d already be giving him a good beating. Instead, you turn away and stare off into camp, trying to ignore what he said. The warm feeling you had before is gone. You clasp the cane again, heading back to the tent.

Night has come. Pearson, Karen and Uncle have pulled out bottles of alcohol to celebrate the return of Sean. The Irish man stands on a box, giving an almost taunting yet endearing speech about how everything’s going to be okay now he’s back. You can’t help laughing with the others as you lean on Pearson’s wagon. Karen approaches you with a bottle of whisky. 

“Here, girl!” she proclaims, handing you the bottle.

“Nah, I really shouldn’t. I just took some more of those herbs Hosea’s been givin’ me, I doubt they’ll mix well with that.”

“Ah, don’t be so worried! ‘Sides, it can’t hurt too much.” She winks and shoves the bottle in your hand and you take a sip. She walks off, swaying a bit. 

You grasp your cane and walk over to the campfire slowly. Uncle, Sean, Javier, Pearson and Arthur sit around it, drinking and joking. As you sit next to Arthur, Uncle breaks out into song.

“When I was just a lad, you know, I met a gal from Blue Bordeaux, she had blonde hair and blue eyes too,” he starts and the others join in the song. You can’t help but laugh at the heavily inappropriate song, drinking more. 

“That’s what ya call the ring dang do!” the men finish, roaring with laughter. 

“Yer a dirty man!” Arthur chuckles as you hand him the bottle. He takes a long drink as Dutch calls from his tent.

“That’s all well and said, but how about something a bit more civilized?” He turns around and switches on his gramophone. Classical music sweeps over the camp. Arthur gets up to go and speak to John and Charles. You stand up, too, leaving your bottle behind. You don’t really want to drink anymore, despite the fire in your belly. You find yourself limping past Dutch’s tent and stop when you see the man dancing slowly with Ms. O’Shea. They laugh sweetly when Dutch twirls her around. You can’t help but smile.

Arthur wanders past you, finishing a bottle of beer. You call his attention to Dutch and Molly.

“They seem so sweet together,” you mumble, your head feeling a little misty. “Y’know, I never known how to dance.”

He looks at you curiously. “Well, I ain’t much of a dancer neither, but ya wanna try?”

You stare up into his eyes, unsure. “I don’t know, Arthur, with this leg…”

“Ah, don’t worry, darlin’, I’ll help ya.”

He offers you his hand. You toss your cane a few feet away and take it. You reach up and place your hand on his sturdy shoulder as his hand hesitantly slides onto your waist. He starts leading you around in a slow circle. The mixture of herbs and alcohol has greatly dulled the pain from your legs as well as your regular inhibitions, although you still limp. He takes his hand from your waist, bending you down backwards and pulling you back up, releasing a giggle from you. 

“Well, Mr. Morgan,” you laugh. “I never knew you could be so graceful!”

He huffs. “Turns out I’m just full of surprises.”

He leads you in a circle again, breaking it up every once in a while with a dip or a flourish. Your heart flutters every time, you can’t help but breathe in his scent and gaze into his blue eyes. 

The pain in your leg is starting to flare, making you long for the bottle of whisky, when Arthur grabs your hands and twirls you around delicately. He spins you back towards him and pulls you in close, enveloping you in his strong arms. You wrap your arms around his waist, tucking your head under his chin. The sound of his heart pumps fast in your ears. You feel your own beating a thousand miles a minute. His arms wrap tighter around you as he sways you back and forth, no longer circling. Despite all the efforts you’ve made to not let him know how you feel, you revel in the feeling of his skin against yours, the feeling of his cheek resting on your head. You never want this moment to stop as you close your eyes. 

The music suddenly ends, you hear Dutch compliment Molly. Arthur’s arms relax, releasing you. You have to adjust your leg quickly so you don’t stumble, taking your weight back and feeling somehow colder. His eyes are hidden beneath his hat, but he’s wearing a smile. 

“Sorry if that was a little too close for comfort, Y/N,” he sighs. “I just… been wantin’ to do that for a while now.”

You giggle, unable to hide the blush crawling up your cheeks. “No, Arthur, that was… well, it was nice.”

You stretch up as much as you can and kiss him on the cheek, turning away to watch Karen lead Sean into John’s tent.

Two weeks have gone by since Sean’s party. The ambience in the camp has shifted; it’s become lighter and happier. At night, the sounds of laughter often echo from the campfire. Your mood has greatly improved as well, now that you’re no longer restricted to Arthur’s tent. You’ve been moved back into your own for nearly a week after Grimshaw declared your leg is healed enough to withstand lying on the ground. You still have to walk around with the cane sometimes, but you can go for a period of time without it. 

You’re standing at the washbin, scrubbing at some dishes when you hear a familiar snort. You turn and see Arthur riding in. He smiles widely at you when he sees you, and you return it without hesitating. Ever since the night Sean came back and the two of you danced together, your friendship has blossomed. Of course, it has also deepened your feelings for him, although you’re still reluctant to mention or even show it. You’ve become conflicted by his behavior though. When the two of you are hidden from the eyes of the others in camp, Arthur will usually grab your hand or put his hand on your shoulder or back. Sometimes he’ll even pull you into a quick hug. 

He approaches you, rubbing his hands together. 

“There she is!” he says happily. You return his greeting.

“How’s yer leg?” he asks, putting his hands on his gun belt. You turn your face back to the water, blushing. Nothing makes you want to wrap your arms around him more than when he stands like that. 

“‘S doin’ good!” you say, continuing to scrub. “I’ve hardly had to use my cane today.”

“Well, good, I’m glad. Say, ya wanna go into town?”

You look back at him. “God, I’d love to. So sick of seein’ this camp.”

“Let’s go then,” he says turning away and going back to his horse. You begin to follow, limping a bit, but then stopping as he hops onto the saddle. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitate. “I don’t know if I can ride a horse yet, Arthur, with my leg.”

“We’ll go slow, darlin’,” he says, reaching his hand towards you. “Just let me know if it gets to be too much.”

You grab his arm and he lifts you up behind him, not letting you go until you’re situated. Your thigh twinges a bit, but the pain is manageable. You nervously slither your arms around his abdomen. He turns Artemis down the trail, walking her slow. When he gets to the main trail, he turns to you.

“How ya doin’?”

“Good. You might be able to go faster, actually.”

He kicks Artemis into a trot; she picks up the pace, swishing her long, black tail. He keeps her at that pace all the way into town. 

You almost admit that you’ve missed seeing the muddy town and its simple folk, but then you realize that even after six weeks, nothing can really improve this dump named Valentine. He slows Artemis to a walk as the two of you pass the train station and livestock yard. You see a large, white tent to the left up ahead.

“What is that?” you ask, never really having paid attention to it before. 

“Think it’s one of them movin’ pictures I been hearin’ folk talk about,” he answers, pulling up to it. 

“I never seen one of them before,” you admit, taking one of your hands away from his waist. 

“Well, let’s change that,” you can hear by the tone of his voice he’s smiling. He stops Artemis outside the tent and swings his leg over her head, slipping off. He puts up his arms, helping you off. Your stumble a bit as your leg adjusts to the weight, but he doesn’t let go of you. Once you’re balanced, he offers you his arm and walks you up to a man standing behind a desk, offering tickets. He pays $2 for them and walks you inside. 

Inside, the tent has a projector pointed at the opposite wall, rows of seats filed under the projector’s beam. You pick two seats; there’s only a couple of other people in the tent. Just as the two of you sit down, the show starts as the electric lights dim. It consists of nothing more than some images with some type of moving element. A man narrates over the scenes, telling the tale about why the bear hibernates during winter. You’re fascinated; you’ve never seen an image move before. 

As you’re watching, Arthur lifts up his arm as he scratches the back of his neck. He then drapes it behind your head, resting his hand on your shoulder. You lean into him, feeling your cheeks grow hot. You’re glad the tent is dark so he can’t see. 

The show ends, the lanterns glowing again. Arthur removes his arm as the two of you stand. He smiles at you as he hides his eyes under his hat again. You take hold of his hand as you both walk out and back to Artemis. He lifts you back onto her then climbs up in front of you, carrying on to the middle of town. 

He hitches Artemis outside the saloon, helping you off. The two of you head inside and he buys you dinner, despite your comments that you can buy your own food. 

“Ya think ya might be up for a huntin’ trip soon?” he asks as you both eat. 

You pause, chewing. “I dunno, I hope so. Be nice to get out again for a few days. I just… don’t know if…”

“I know, yer worried about yer leg. But ya seem to be doin’ good. I bet ya can handle it. ‘Sides, ya deserve to get out. Been cooped up in Horseshoe too long.”

You smile at him. “Well, there’s that then. Only problem is I don’t have any weapons anymore. Those damn monsters took ‘em when they… after I got captured.”

“Well,” he says, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Gun smith is right ‘cross the road. Bet we could get ya another bow, maybe some guns.”

“That’s a fine thought, Arthur,” you say, taking the last bite of your lamb. “‘Cept, I doubt I got enough money. And before ya say it, I don’t want ya spendin’ anymore money on me.”

He laughs softly. “A’right, fine.”

You nod your head, happy that’s settled. The two of you head out of the saloon. 

“Ya mind if I go get a bath? I haven’t had a proper one for far too long,” you say. He nods his head, saying he’ll go back into the saloon and order some drinks while you’re gone. You go and order a bath. Before you enter the water, you take off the bandage from around your thigh. Grimshaw showed you weeks ago how to change it, which must be done every couple of days. You go to a tall mirror in the corner of the room, turning around and twisting your neck so you can inspect the wound. It’s ugly, but at least the stitches are gone. You frown at the angry red line that marks where you were shot by the arrow. You tell yourself it could have been a lot nastier; at least the wound didn’t get infected. 

You sink down into the tub, sighing happily as you scrub the old sweat and dirt from your skin. You get up, dry yourself off, and redress your leg. You head outside, thanking the hotel clerk as you exit, and see Arthur standing next to Artemis, holding a Springfield rifle. You approach him, wondering what he’s up to, when he hands you the rifle. 

“What’s this?” you ask, taking hold of it. You realize it’s brand new. The metal’s carved with intricate, weaving patterns, and there’s an engraving of a wolf in the handle. 

“‘S for you,” he responds. 

“What? Arthur! I told ya not to buy me anything!” 

He guffaws. “”S too late now! ‘Sides, I wanted to. Also, got ya this.”

He hands you a bow and a quiver of arrows. You blush, sighing deeply. You feel frustrated yet grateful. “Why are you doin’ this, Arthur? I coulda gotten these myself.”

“I know. I just wanted to.” You sigh, defeated before leaning up and place a kiss on his cheek. You notice the red on his cheeks, but say nothing. 

He hops onto Artemis, offering to take your new weapons back to strap onto Artemis. You hand them to him, resigned and hop on behind him with his help. The two of you trot back to camp as the sun begins to descend. When Arthur hitches Artemis and dismounts, he speaks up.

“So, tomorrow sound good for huntin’?” He helps you off again, not letting go of your hand. 

Smiling, you answer. “Of course. One question, though. I… obviously don’t have a horse anymore. How are we going to work around that?”

“I’m shoar ya could borrow a horse from camp. Plenty a people here ain’t gonna be usin’ theirs for the next few days.”

You shrug your shoulders. 

You’re lying in your tent, the singing of birds and the cool air gently waking you from your sleep. You hear someone walking towards your tent. Arthur’s deep voice calls your name. You sit up and peak out of your tent. 

The sky above his head is still dark but the horizon is fading into a soft, light blue, rivaling the color of Arthur’s eyes. 

“Ya ready to go?” he asks.

“Now? This early?”

“‘Course,” he smiles. “We can get more time in if we leave now.”

You stand up, stretching and putting on your hat. You’re glad that you had approached Hosea the night before asking to take out one of the draft horses that usually pulls the wagons. He also offered you a spare saddle and bridle to take. You go groom a large dun Belgian Draft, strapping the saddle to her and fitting on the bridle. She stomps her foot, making you a bit nervous. You swallow, gather your courage and mount her, your leg only twinging a little. Arthur comes up, strapping on his satchel, smiling. 

“Got on yer own just fine, did ya?” 

You smile and nod, patting the mare’s neck. 

He hops onto Artemis and the two of you head down the trail at an easy trot. You’ve no idea where he’s leading you, but you follow him obediently, enjoying the sweeping views of New Hanover: the distant river, the wide canyon, the orange that is beginning to take over the sky. He leads you up into Valentine and passes the stables, trotting merrily down the faint trail which winds down the hill and towards the river. The two of you cross it, glancing at the sound of a man in a nightgown standing waist-deep in the river, screaming at some invisible being to get away. 

You both continue on until you reach an intersection in the trail, heading up the mountain. The temperature begins to drop slightly, and far up ahead on the mountain you see distant trees topped in snow. 

The trail levels out and you head down the left side, travelling along it until a pond comes into view. Arthur slows to a stop and you do as well, admiring the sight. The wide pond is beautiful, rippling calmly, its far banks flanked by deer and ducks. You spot the arching antlers of an elk in a nearby copse of small pines. On the other side of the pond, the land rises up into a tall mound, topped with a ram and multiple bighorn sheep, browsing among the trees. You look to the left, to the open grass sloping down the hills and towards the train tracks tucked into a gorge. 

“Arthur, this place is beautiful,” you say.

He turns back to see you. “Found it right before we left Colter. This the place we tried robbin’ that Cornwall train. This is Cattail Pond.”

You lead the dun mare to the water. She dips her head and drinks as you dismount, removing the bow and quiver. You adjust your gunbelt slightly, making sure the knife is still in place. You’re happy these things got saved, along with your sawed-off shotgun. 

Arthur pats Artemis, telling her to stay put. He approaches you, situating his own bow.

“Now, if ya need anythin’, ya just call me.”

You nod, the both of you wandering into separate directions to hunt.

By midafternoon, you approach the large mare, heaving an elk pelt onto her bag. She snorts as you strap it down, swishing her tail. You glance up the hill towards the main trail and you see silhouettes of horses, grazing. You pull out your binoculars and zoom in on them. You spot a pure black saddler, a palomino, and a dun Appaloosa stallion, his hindquarters heavily spotted. For some reason, you can’t take your eyes off him. You study him as he raises his head, snorts and then goes back to grazing. Arthur approaches you, a white ram pelt tucked under his arm. 

“What ya lookin’ at?”

You point ahead at the stallion. “That horse. He’s real pretty. I always had a soft spot for Appys.”

He pulls out his binoculars and looks with you. He lowers them and turns to you.

“Well, go get it then.”

“Huh?” “Go get it!” he says, gesturing to the horse. “Go get on his back and tame him. Bet ya won’t even have to try hard.”

You look at him doubtfully. “Arthur, even with a good leg, I don’t think I could do that. No way I’m coordinated enough. ‘Sides, I wouldn’t even know the first thing.”

“Ya even been bucked off before?”

“Oh yeah. Rain’s mom bucked me once. Flew off and landed like a sack of potatoes.”

He chuckles. “It really ain’t that hard sweetheart.” He goes on to explain how to break a mustang, to maintain your balance until the horse tires out. 

“C’mon, girl. How ‘bout I lasso him, ya get on his back. We’ll work together.”

You hesitantly agree. Arthur pulls out his long rope, already knotted. He gestures for you to follow him, hunching slightly. The two of you sneak up the hill slowly, walking as quietly as possible. When you’re close enough, you call out to the stallion, Arthur stopping behind you.

“Easy boy!” you call. “Easy.”

His head launches up as he snorts heavily. He stomps his feet, his ears darting in every direction. You walk towards him slowly, your arms slightly raised. 

“Stay calm, boy. I just wanna make friends. You’re real pretty.”

Surprisingly, the stallion doesn’t run but he continues to stomp, tail flicking. You get closer, almost within patting distance, when he rears up. You quickly take several steps back when Arthur’s lasso flies up and over his head, wrapping around his neck. 

“Now, Y/N!” he yells.

You dash over and launch yourself onto his back. The stallion begins bucking and plunging, roaring in anger. You grab hard onto his mane, twisting and turning your body to maintain balance. He rears again, nearly throwing you. You clutch to his neck as Arthur yells at you to hang on. He slams back into the ground, you feel yourself start to slide over his side when Arthur catches you, pushing you back onto him. 

“There,” he says, breathing hard. “Think ya wore him out.”

The stallion stomps his feet again, tossing his head. You straighten yourself up, patting his neck.

“There,” you pant and pat his neck. “We’re friends now.” You reach into your saddle, offering him a treat.

“That was real good, Y/N,” Arthur praises. He tells you to stay on his back as he leads the horse to the other two. For the next few hours, the two of you work together with the horse, getting him used to being touched. By the time the sun sets, you’ve managed to get the bridle and saddle from the Belgian onto him. You hitch him to the tree as Arthur sets up his tent, spreading out your bedrolls. You pat the horse fondly before turning and kneeling next to the fire. 

After cooking a few hunks of meat, the both of you decide to call it a night. Your thigh is sore and achy from the strains of taming the appaloosa. You limp over to the tent, sighing as you lie down. Arthur settles himself behind you. You twist your body so you’re lying on your back. You face him, your eyes already growing tired. 

“Night, Arthur,” you sigh, closing your eyes. You feel his hand takes yours as he bids you goodnight. 

It’s still dark when you wake, but you can tell by the songs of the birds that morning is near. Your leg hurts quite a bit, which is probably why you’re awake so early. You force yourself to get up, going to Arthur’s grill where the fire was, even though all that is left is a pile of smoldering coals. You reignite it with some nearby dried pine needles. You add some grounded herbs for the pain to a tin cup, adding some hot water from Arthur’s percolator to it. You drink it quickly, despite the awful taste. You add some coffee to the percolator, drinking that as well. 

Despite the early hour, you’re wide awake. You hoist yourself up, grunting a bit, and approach the appaloosa stallion still hitched to the tree. You feel a tightening in your gut when he grumbles a deep, happy snort at you, reaching for your outstretched hand with his muzzle. You offer him a treat, patting his neck. You admire the fine white hairs on the back half of his body, the smattering of brown spots. You suddenly feel inspired.

You turn away and take a seat by a large log near the water of the pond. You pull out the journal from your satchel and turn to a blank page. You start to sketch the horse, trying to match the delicate lines of his neck, his slender legs, the long tail. You can see in your head how Arthur would have drawn it since he’s shown you a number of his own drawings. You stop and see your work, feeling unimpressed and dissatisfied. You sigh, disappointed.

“How ya doin’ with that?” Arthur says, plopping himself next to you. 

You smile. “It’s crap.” You show him the sloppy lines. You can tell he’s trying not to laugh. 

“Let me help ya,” he says, putting an arm behind you. You flip to a new page and he takes your hand in his, guiding the pencil along the page. Every now and then, he’ll point to the horse, drawing your attention to certain details. He shows you techniques to bring out different textures and patterns. After only a few moments, the shape and details of the stallion begins to appear. 

The sun is well-risen now, illuminating his face, his scruffy beard turning gold. He’s so close you can see the scar of his chin once more, the specks of green in his blue eyes. 

“Thank you, Arthur,” you almost whisper. “None of this would be happening if it weren’t for you.” 

You can’t stand it anymore You don’t want to hide your feelings for him. So what if he doesn’t feel anything for you? All you want is to show the entire world how you feel about Arthur Morgan. You take your hand from his, reaching up and placing it on his cheek. You almost expect him to pull back, but he doesn’t. You glance briefly at his lips before you stretch up and place your own against them. You breathe in deeply, absorbing his scent as he stiffens to your touch. You pull away. Well, he knows what you think of him now.

You open your eyes; his face is unreadable. You let your hand slip from his face, feeling a sinking in your chest. You fool, you think. Of course he wouldn’t want this, your kiss. You distance yourself more from him, looking down.

“I… I’m sorry, Arthur,” you say. You snap your journal shut, sliding the pencil back into the leather strip quickly. “I didn’t mean to…”

As you begin to stand up, his hand suddenly reaches and gently touches your neck, pulling you to him. His lips crash into yours as his other arm wraps around your shoulders. You reach up and loop your arms around his neck, memorizing his lips with your tongue. His hand leaves your cheek and knots into your hair. 

You pull away from him, panting heavily. He places his forehead against yours. 

“Ya’ve no idea how long I been wantin’ to do that, darlin’,” he mutters deeply. The sound of his voice sends shivers up your spine.

“You don’t have to want anymore, Arthur Morgan,” you sigh. He leans in and kisses you again. You kiss him back hard, pressing yourself into him. His arms pull you into his broad chest. You kiss one another until you’re forced to pull back again by the need to breathe. He guides your head to settle onto his shoulder and you cuddle into him, your arms still wrapped around his neck. 

You both sit there, watching the sun climb higher into the sky. His hand traces patterns into your back as you brush your hands through his hair. 

After a while, he pats your back.

“Ya ready to go hunt again, sweetheart?” he places a kiss on your forehead.

“Mmm. Do we have to? It’s perfect here.”

He laughs softly, the sound reverberating through you. “I know, darlin’. I don’t want this moment to end either. But camp’s gotta eat.”

You sigh heavily. Arthur Morgan, the outlaw who would break his own back to make sure the people he cares about are taken care of. You reach up and place one more kiss to his lips before standing up. He follows your lead, grabbing his hat from the tent before wandering over to Artemis to remove his bow. You grab yours as well, scanning the environment for signs of animals. 

For the next few hours, the two of you go about, bringing down animals and butchering them. You aren’t as smooth with the bow as usual. You keep getting distracted by the memory of Arthur’s lips against yours. 

You stalk a whitetail buck near the train tracks. You hide in a clump of bushes and see him grazing. You notch an arrow and take aim for him. You let the arrow fly; it plunges into his side. The buck falls, but then stands up again, running off. You follow as quickly as you can, ignoring the pain in your leg. He falls again after a few yards, brought down by blood loss and shock. You approach him, trying to ignore his cries. You kneel down, pulling out your knife.

“I’m sorry, my friend,” you say, knowing how painful it is to be struck by an arrow. You plunge the knife into his heart. You skin the carcass and start heading back up the hill towards the pond and the horses. By the time you reach the top of the rise, you’re panting heavily; your thigh burns. You sit down to give yourself a break. Arthur calls to you from across the pond in the trees. You can’t understand what he’s saying, but you wave your hand to show you heard him. He calls again, and again you wave.

You start massaging your leg through your jeans, trying to soothe the pain. You hear splashing and look up. Arthur’s wading across the pond up to his calves, coming towards you. He calls to you again from the bottom of the hill.

“Ya a’right?” he yells.

“Yeah, leg’s just being a pain.” 

He climbs the hill, approaching you. He kneels next to you, looking hard at your leg. 

“I’m a’right,” you say. “Like I said, leg’s bein’ difficult.”

He looks up into your eyes. He sighs heavily. “Maybe we oughta head back. Ya ain’t much use huntin’ if ya can’t walk.”

“I can walk, just need a break, Arthur,” you say indignantly.

“I know, darlin’. Ya have to remember yer still healin’. Do this for me?”

You sigh, defeated. “Fine. Let’s just see if we can bring back something whole for camp.”

He nods, helping you stand up. He takes the pelt from you then grabs your hand as you both wander over to the horses. He throws the pelt over the stallion.

“Ya thought of a name for yer boah?”

You bite your lip. “Yeah, maybe.”

He looks at you, waiting for you to say. When you don’t, he speaks. “Well?”

“Rannoch,” you finally say. “His name is Rannoch.”

He raises his brows. “Rannoch, huh? Where’d ya get that?”

You shuffle your feet. “My grandma used to read me a story. ‘Bout a stag named Rannoch, born the night his dad was born. I wish I could remember the name of the book. I’d love to read it again. Was my favorite.”

“I like it,” he says, putting a finger under your chin, lifting your face. “Suits him.”

You smile, glancing over to Rannoch. He flicks his tail, eating from a bush, completely uncaring about his name. 

“Well, let’s do a bit more huntin’,” he says. You agree and the two of you head back out, away from one another. After several moments of stalking, you bring down a bighorn sheep. You bend down to pick it up, but as you start standing your leg gives out. 

“Shit!” you yell as your knee slams into the ground, the carcass slumping back down. You feel your wound quickly, determining that it’s fine. Turns out your leg just isn’t strong enough to carry the extra weight. Arthur comes dashing out of the trees, attracted by your yell.

“I’m fine,” you holler as you stand up, testing your leg. “Will you help me? I can’t carry this thing.”

Arthur approaches, smiling mischievously as he lifts up the sheep onto his shoulder with ease. You follow him back to the horses, where he straps the sheep onto Rannoch. 

“I’ll be back,” he says, walking back into the trees. You brush Rannoch while he’s gone. After several moments, he returns, hauling the body of a doe. He straps it to Artemis. You both saddle up the horses and mount up. Arthur puts a lasso around the Belgian Draft, pulling her along behind him as the two of you leave Cattail and head back to camp.

The sun has set when you both enter the trees to Horseshoe. Karen’s on guard duty, she calls to you.

“Nice horse!”

You thank her as the two of you go up the trail, approaching the hitching post. You dismount, then turn to Arthur. The two of you are standing between the horses, blocked from view of the camp.

“Arthur?” He turns. “Thanks for takin’ me out and for… everything else.”

He smiles, putting his hands on your shoulders. “Anythin’ for you, darlin’. Can I ask you a favor, though?”

“‘Course.”

“D’you mind if we keep this between us for now?” You pull away, surprised and even a little hurt. He must see your emotions on your face.

“It ain’t that I’m ashamed,” he scrambles, pulling you close. “I just… want to keep this quiet for now. Besides, we both know how the others will talk. And maybe I like the idea of havin’ ya to myself for now”

You chuckle, relaxing in his arms. “Yes, I do know. But promise me it won’t be long?”

He smiles, pulling you into a tight hug. “I promise.” He leans down to kiss you, shielded from the others by the horses and the darkness.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fanfic #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x oc #Van Der Linde Gang #rockstar games #r* games #it's so fluffy i'm gonna die! #i'm awkward #second chances

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Sweater Weather Part Four

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG GUYS! If I’m being honest I fell out of love with this part pretty quick, and most of it is a filler chapter. There’s some flashbacks for the sake of plot, just FYI. Anyway I hope you all enjoy it!

Also I realize that some of the flashbacks may not completely add up to the actual timeline of films, so just ignore that. Thanks. 

Pairings: Steve Rogers x PottsRelativeFem!Reader

Ratings/Warnings: R 

For everything from language, crude jokes, ADULT situations/impure thoughts, booze (because it’s pretty much a staple in my fics at this point.), arguments, and an extremely overprotective Tony Stark. Very little angst, as I try to keep most of my fics light humored. But of course there are some insecurities/unsure feelings, as well as sad feels from everything with endgame/ the decimation. Also dead parents.

Also AU in the fact NO ONE DIED during Endgame/Steve didn’t go back. Also as much as I adore Morgan Stark, she isn’t around yet. I didn’t know where this would fit timeline wise, so just ignore the timeline. Kay? Cool.

Words: 5,442 (Ish)

Summary: You’ve just moved to New York after a long 3 year stint travelling the world and helping with various charities, taking a new job with Stark Industries thanks to your cousin Pepper. A trip out to surprise Tony and The Avengers for the weekend turns from good to terrible when the a/c at the compound breaks. How will you beat the heat for the record breaking weekend?

It’s in Y/N Y/L/N format, any pictures, outfits, gifs, and marvel characters just assume I don’t own them. Also no Beta, as I don’t ever have one, so the mistakes and reader are all my own. Enjoy!

Part Four

To say that dinner was awkward was the biggest understatement of the century.

Everyone sat at the table in silence, barely making eye contact with anyone else, the sound of scraping utensils and the nervous clearing of throats the only noises passing the time. You picked at your food, zoned out and trying not to acknowledge Tony’s sulking figure at the end of the table. True to your word you sat next to Steve, thankful for his large hand on your thigh and occasionally giving you a comforting squeeze. Or drawing circles on your knee to help keep you grounded, which you appreciated more than words could convey.

All of you had finished eating when Pepper decided to find her voice, setting her fork down with a large clang that made you jump.

“Alright. It’s been an hour and I’m sick of it. This silence is stupid. This whole fight between Y/N and Tony is stupid. I would kill both of you if I didn’t have so many witnesses here right now. So can we please try to find a way to get you two to freaking apologize? I didn’t keep you coming back a secret for nearly six months for nothing Y/N.” Your gaze became hazy at your cousin’s firm tone, feeling childish for how you had acted earlier.

“And you!” She glared at her husband, who already was appearing to feel two feet tall at the present, “Y/N isn’t even back for twenty four hours and you have to feel obligated to shove your way into her personal life?! She is an adult, who she decides to spend her time with is her business. Not yours. Her mother was suffocating enough when she was alive, she doesn’t need you to fill those shoes.”

“I’d pay to see Stark in heels.” Sam’s quip had you chuckling, remembering the sky scraper height of some of your mom’s footwear.

“I wouldn’t last twenty minutes in those things.” Tony’s quiet voice snapped your eyes to him, and you saw first hand how guilty he was truly feeling about the whole ordeal. “Pep’s right. Y/N I am sorry for how I acted earlier. You are an adult and even though I may not like the idea of you and…Steve” He said his teammate’s name almost painfully, swallowing a large gulp of his wine and staring at the two of you, “You’re both truly wonderful people and I won’t say I told you so if it goes down in flames. I love you short stack, I just want you to be happy.”

“Thanks Snark. I tolerate you for Pepper’s sake, and I will accept your apology only because we’re related. Also because I’m tired of seeing you look like someone burned down your lab with all of your suits locked in it.” Watching his face break into a small grin forced you to do the same, everyone clapping at the two of you morons and getting up to clear the table.

“So what’s the plan for the evening? It’s too hot to do anything strenuous.” Sam commented, the dishes cleaned and put away. Pepper had to sit on you in a chair to keep you from helping this time. Surveying the living room your mind began to work, your earlier activities with the air cooling inventions coming to mind.

“How about we move all of the fans and coolers into this room? It’s pretty much secluded and we can hang a couple tarps from outside on the doorways to help keep the air in? We can play a drinking game? Didn’t you say you had some of your mead with you Thor?” The blonde nodded as the rest of the group looked at you with astonished faces, Bucky coming to grasp your hands in admiration.

“If Rogers here is ever dumb enough to mess things up with you, know that I will make his life a living hell for losing someone so damn smart. Seriously, your amazing brain got a sister or somethin?” You giggled as Steve rolled his eyes at his friend, Sam and Thor leaving to grab the aforementioned tarps from outside.

“Watch it Barnes.” Your pulse lurched as the blonde nearly growled at his best friend, the brunette tossing a cheeky wink over his shoulder at him.

“What you gonna do Punk? Throw me into another wall?”

“SO THAT’S WHY THERE’S A DENT IN MY HALLWAY?!” You burst into laughter as Tony stared at the two men, hands on his hips and looking nothing short of annoyed. Bucky and Steve had the decency to avoid his gaze, muttering ‘sorry’s as the two men returned, making short work of duct taping shut one of the entrances to the room, you giving a thumbs up in approval. It’s like they had read your mind. All of you then returned to your rooms to grab your cooler and fans, well you only replaced the ice in yours. No way were you going to drag your giant chest all the way down the hallway. It had taken all of your strength just to dump out the cold water outside your low window. Yes you could ask one of the men to help you, but if you were being honest you didn’t want them to notice, not when your room was an easy twenty degrees cooler than the rest of the compound. Screw that. They were super heroes, you could have this one thing.

“Alright so what game we playing?” Bruce questioned after you had played “musical furniture” to help block the one doorway to help cease air flow on the one side, fans and coolers surrounding the room in a circular fashion, constantly circulating air in different directions. It was already feeling better by the minute, most of you pulling chairs to avoid sitting on the warm couches and love seats.

“I figured “Never have I ever”? We haven’t played that one since the wedding. We have a few years to make up for.” You shrugged, Tony agreeing with a loud “Hell yea!” that threatened to blow your eardrums out. You all made your drinks from the copious amounts of booze Stark and Pepper had brought from their stash in their suite, making a mental note to ask them about it later. They really should invest in building a bar in this place. Taking a seat next in between Sam and Nat, you smiled at Steve and Bruce across from you. Thor threw himself into a chair next to Bruce and Nat, Pepper was gladly the buffer between Tony and Steve. Bucky finished out the circle on Sam’s left putting him next to Tony. You should have known they’d be sitting next to each other, you were gathering that they were the duo of the group. Not that it bothered you.

“Alright as it is my building I’ll start us off.” Tony jumped on the claim to go first, all of you not even putting up a fight, eager to get to drinking this hot and sticky weekend away. “Never have I ever kissed a man.”

“Low blow honey.” You smiled as Pepper jabbed her husband in the ribs while taking a drink, you and Nat following suit. Everyone’s eyebrows raised to their hairlines as Sam took a drink from his glass.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We don’t want to know. My turn?” Pepper chuckled, looking at you with a smile. “Never have I ever gotten a speeding ticket.” You drank.

Steve raised an eyebrow at you, you shrugging as he thought of something to say.  “Never have I ever shaved my legs.” The chorus of laughter rang loudly at Tony taking a drink with you ladies.

“Never have I ever had a hangover.” Bruce admitted, you staring at the large man bewildered as to how he could live through one of Tony’s parties.

“Alright, ahem never have I ever flown with the help of a suit.” Thor grinned as the respective men (and Pepper) took drinks from their glasses.

The game continued on, you finding out really fast that no one was wasting time holding back punches, the hours ticked by and before you could comprehend it you were mixing your fifth drink of the evening. The alcohol was making you sway to music that wasn’t being played anywhere but in your head as you crashed back into your chair, Nat leaning herself onto you for support as she took off her shoes. The group was well on their way to being properly sloshed, Tony and Pepper laughing at nothing with Sam and Bucky while Bruce and Thor went to move to the floor. All eyes moved to you as you waved your free hand in the air, trying to stay balanced on your seat.

“Ok my turn! Never have I ever saved the world!” Your words slurred, everyone groaning as you beamed at them, watching Steve finish his third glass of mead and a very pleased looking Thor refilling it without being asked.

“Alright Y/N.” Sam began, you lazily side eyeing him as he smirked. “Never have I ever kissed Steve Rogers.” You stared blankly into his brown eyes, missing Nat sneak a drink from her glass, the mentioned blonde man starting to develop a slight pink tint to his cheeks. “Seriously? I thought for sure you guys would have been playing tonsil hockey by now!”

“No we haven’t.” You said a little too quickly, heat rising to your face. “I would definitely know if we had. I have a feeling that kissing Rogers isn’t something a girl would ever forget.” Your voice was loud and you clapped a hand over your mouth, but the damage had been done. You tried not to look at Steve, his wide smirk making you want to drink yourself into a coma.

“Oh please don’t bring that up. I don’t want that in my head…too late it’s in my head now. Fucking thanks.” Tony wiped his face with exasperation, you snorting as Bucky went on to say he’s never been skinny dipping. You took a drink at that, the guys whooping and hollering and asking for the story of how that happened.

“Highschool. Cheerleaders…dared some of us band geeks to do it during senior day. They stole our clothes while we were in the lake, so we had to call our parents. My mom lectured my ass for two hours when she showed up.” You were in a fit of giggles by the time you finished, Pepper joining in as you fell off your chair and onto the floor, Steve looking concerned for a split second until you erupted into more giggles.

“I think Y/N’s cut off for the night.” Sam mentioned, you bringing your face into a small pout before giving up within a few seconds to giggle again. Your body was buzzing from all of the liquor, and you knew you had to stop before you made a giant idiot out of yourself.

“Shaddup Sam, I’mma be fine.” Yea that was you stopping.

“Never have I ever had sex!” Tony exclaimed, the attention being taken from you to look at the obviously drunk billionaire. “I just wanted to take a drink, I’m totally lying.”

“Ya don’t say?” You cast a knowing look to Pepper that made her duck her head down, taking a rather long draw from whatever concoction Tony had made her.

“Guys…guys it’s…it’s two in the morning. Holy shit. “ Bruce looked at his wrist watch in shock. Time had flown by and though you were having an amazing time, sleep was going to start claiming victims before too much longer. You steadied your wobbly legs as you stood up from the floor, holding onto your vacant chair for dear life as the room started spinning.

“I’m going to go the bathroom.” Steve said rather loudly, jumping up to his feet and downing the contents in his cup before walking out of the room. You smiled drunkenly at all of your friends, giving them a mock salute with the hand that wasn’t still grasping the metal frame of your seat.

“I think that’s my cue to get some sleep. Night all.” You waved, confident you could make it back to your room without any incident as you stepped away from them with ease. It was going great until you managed to trip on a fan cord, thankful Thor had been nearly right behind you and managed to catch you from eating the carpet.

“Let’s get you to the safety of your bed before you hurt yourself.” His deep voice jolted you from slipping into sleep standing up, managing a lopside smile with a short nod. You allowed the god of lightning to walk you carefully to your room, letting him tuck you into your bed and placing your phone on your nightstand, making sure it was plugged into the charger. You reached out to grip one of his massive arms, a warm smile on your lips.

“Thanks….Thor. You’re the…the best.” You mumbled as he patted your head affectionately, you falling asleep as soon as he flipped the light switch.

“Y/N pass out?” Steve asked when the blonde returned to the group, everyone deciding that they would sleep in the living room where all the cool air was.

“Yes she is most certainly asleep. I’d wager she could sleep through an entire alien invasion with how much she’s consumed tonight.” Thor laughed, Steve looking happy to hear you had no trouble slipping off into dream land. “Luckily her room is like an ice box.”

“You gonna go keep her warm Agent Smolder?” Bucky joked. “Am I going to have to stay up and make sure you don’t go and sneak off into her room later?”

“LA LA LA I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” Tony interrupted Steve’s next words, covering his ears in a poor attempt to shield himself from having to take in the conversation. They watched with amusement as the man shoved one of the couch pillows over his head as he and Pepper got comfortable, Nat taking the loveseat and stretching out.

“Guess that leaves us the floor then huh Buck?” Steve sighed, eyes rolling as Sam loudly began snoring from his passed out position on the last small couch in the room. Bruce had taken the large recliner Tony had built for him, and Thor was slumped against the far wall, slowly drifting off, his stein still half full of mead.

“Looks like it Captain Cutie!”

“When will you stop with those stupid code names?”

“When you finally ask Y/N out. Or make some kind of move! You waiting on the leaves to change colors or something?” The brunette shoved at his friend’s large shoulder before laying down on the ground, reaching to take off his shirt and throw it to the side. “A dame that looks like that will have guys beating down her door once she gets settled. You better not let them get that chance, not when I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“Goodnight Bucky.” Steve muttered, turning away from his friend after removing his own shirt and placing it next to the pillow Nat had thrown him.

“Goodnight Stevie.” The brunette cooed, both of them slowly succumbing to tipsy slumber.

~~~~A couple hours later~~~~

Steve’s bloodshot eyes shot open at the inescapably deafening snores that ripped through the living room in the wee hours of the morning. He sat up with a soft moan of discomfort, deciding that he would rather roast alive than have to listen to this for another moment longer. His gaze wandered to the empty loveseat, knowing full well Nat had gotten sick of the blaring assault on her ears as well. He stumbled slightly towards the hallway, remembering his shirt when he entered it. He waved it off and began his trek down the hall. He’d get it in the morning. Coming up to his room he jiggled the handle to find it wouldn’t budge.

“Friday…my door won’t open.” He went to shove at the door, the outcome the same as before.

“Captain Rogers that’s because it’s not….”

“Open my damn door Friday I want some sleep!” The blonde huffed at the AI, jiggling the handle again like a child. He was drunk, tired, and did not have time for this.

“Language Captain. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The door opened and Steve not too gracefully stumbled in, immediately noticing how much colder it was in his room when it shut. Huh, he was certain he had taken his fan Y/N made him into the living room. Maybe she had made him another one and managed to get it in there earlier in the evening. Yes that had to be it. He could hear it circulating now, the cool breeze floating through the air as he made his way deeper into the darkness.

“Damn!” The curse fell out of his lips as he stubbed his toe on what he was assuming was his dresser, which had magically shrunk in height. Weird. He ran a hand through his hair as he sat on the edge of the bed. It was right where he left it at least, in the middle of the room. His mind wandered to you, how nice you had been to make him another cooling unit for his room. You were so selfless and kind, always helping others before yourself. It was remarkable really. You had lit such a fire within him too, and he had to stop himself multiple times this weekend from doing exactly as Bucky had suggested and shoving you up against the wall and making you forget your own name. He had it bad, but then again he always had. You just weren’t someone he ever thought he deserved before.

Flashback, May 8th 2012

“Well that was a total bust.” Steve’s heart stopped temporarily as he felt you slump into the couch next to him, you taking out pins that were holding up your fancy updo with contempt.

“That bad huh?” He asked, trying to ignore the fire dancing in his veins as your arms brushed against each other in your hastened attempt at tearing your jewelry off.

“All he wanted to talk about was his ex-girlfriend! I left before dessert. I was really looking forward to that stupid cheesecake.” You muttered angrily, running your hands through your hair. The battle of New York had set you on edge, not wanting to be alone the next time the world decided to have a crisis and trying your hand at dating. Steve was silently extremely happy it hadn’t worked out. Mostly because he didn’t want to see you with anyone besides him. Just thinking about…what was his name again…made his blood boil.

“Didn’t he have a weird name?” He allowed his arm to drape behind you on the couch as you scooted closer to him, taking the remote and popcorn from the coffee table and flipping the channel. Steve hadn’t been watching it anyway, the only reason he was even awake was because of you. He hated admitting it, even to himself but the thought of you out having a good time, laughing at some other man’s jokes, or god forbid flirting with him had given the Captain a rather unhealthy case of insomnia leading up to the date. And they had just saved the world from Loki.

“Kelly. From work. This is why I don’t date coworkers.” You sighed with another shake of your head, deciding on Princess Bride that was halfway through its broadcast. His breath hitched as you snuggled into his side, the two of you laughing away your sour mood. He loved your laugh, how musical it was. Actually he didn’t think there was anything he didn’t love about you, even if he hadn’t known you a long time. You had only moved here a few months ago, your parents passing away in a car accident and leaving you extremely lost. Pepper of course took you in, and you got on with Steve like gas on a fire.

“Thanks for being here Rogers. I know you don’t have to be and I’m sure you could use the sleep since you just saved the world and all. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t mention it Doll. Glad to help. Just don’t wake me up if I fall asleep.” His heart soared as you gave him a bright smile.

“Then don’t snore.”

The two of you fell asleep together on the couch before the end credits played, you cuddling into his side and his arm draped around you.

November 2015

“I swear to god Tony you ever pull a stunt like that again and I will murder you!”

“I was just trying to help!” The brunette man snapped, Steve chuckling from the dining room table as he watched you and Pepper try to wave away the giant mushroom cloud that was emitting from the stove. The smoke detectors blared viciously as Thanksgiving was proving to be a disaster at the Tower. It hadn’t been too long ago since they had defeated Ultron, the team deciding that they would try to have a giant Thanksgiving day meal to reconnect with each other. Truth be told he had been looking forward to seeing you the most, your new article writing job taking up most of your time as of late. He didn’t mind, he was super happy for you pursuing your dreams. Your bubbly personality made you tons of friends in college, and people weren’t wrong to love you at your new job too.

“THEN STAY OUT OF THE DAMN KITCHEN!” Both of you yelled in union, pushing the older man out of the room and into the dining area, Steve shaking his head as Tony attempted to look hurt. He didn’t take long to snap out of it, helping the Captain with setting the table. Sam and Nat were soon to enter, each carrying a dish of some sort. Clint had chosen to stay with his own family for the holidays, and after everyone had met them, the blonde avenger could understand why. He wished he would one day have a family like that, especially after seeing Peggy again. You of course were being super wonderful about the whole situation, offering to get coffee with him after he would see her, just to listen to him talk about a woman who wasn’t you. You always felt just a bit jealous at how his face would light up as he recalled one of her good days, and how much it hurt to see him after one of her bad days. You couldn’t pinpoint why you felt that way, you just did. You and Steve had only grown closer as the years had gone by, but it had become pretty clear to you that he only saw you as a friend.

Friends always responded to your S.O.S texts about Tony like he did. Even now as you entered the dining area carrying the only slightly scorched turkey to the table, he was the perfect friend and immediately reached to help you. He followed that movement with pulling out a chair next to him for you and passing you a glass of your favorite white wine that not even Tony or Pepper had remembered to grab. Friends do that.

“This looks amazing Doll, you and Pepper always knock it out of the park. I’ve missed you.” You flashed him a prideful smile as he set his large hand over yours, giving it a slight squeeze. “Missed seeing that smile too.”

Yeah. Friends.

2016

Peggy Carter’s funeral had been over for nearly two hours by the time Steve finally took a moment to check his phone. His eyes were burning from the tears that had fallen during the course of the day, and for once he wasn’t sorry that he had ignored everyone’s attempts at getting a hold of him. That was, until he saw he had a text message from you. Navigating the notification window on his phone with shaking hands he brought up the communication window, pressing the download button on your conversation bubble and waiting for it to load. He was always amazed at how fast modern technology was, the large sum of words popping up within a small fraction of time, his eyes squinting slightly through the pain and reading what you had sent.

“Hey Cap. I know I can’t be there today with you, and I want you to know how much that is killing me. Nat and Tony have filled me in with everything going on, and I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. About everything.” Steve scoffed at you mentioning Stark, the terms of which he and the other avenger had left things a few days ago were less than friendly. This entire accords situation was absurd, at least in his eyes, and he couldn’t wait for your cousin in law to get his head out of his ass. He wasn’t so sure that would ever happen though.“I know you will never ask me to pick a side, and Snark has been smart enough not to ask either. I don’t know all of the details but I do know neither of you can ask me to choose one of you over the other. Not that you would. You’re one of the best people in my life, and I’ll personally be super happy when all of this blows over and I can see you again. Tony pretty much has me under lock and key here, even Pepper is getting sick of it. In case things go sideways, which it’s looking pretty damn likely with my dumb ass cousin involved, please know that I’m here should you need me. I’m and phone call away and you know where I live. If I’m not there you know about the gnome. Anytime. No questions asked. Stay safe for me Steve, Y/N” He would never take you up on that offer, things turning from bad to worse really quick for The Avengers. He never did get to tell you how sorry he was for not responding to your text, or tell you how much it meant to him.

2020

The room was noisy and filled with happy drunk people celebrating the union of Pepper and Tony Stark. You stood in your simple light blue dress, looking on at the simple affair with thankful eyes. They had gotten lucky with the Decimation, still managing to have each other after everything. Your heart ached for Clint and Steve, knowing they had lost the ones who mattered most to them, and you were exceptionally thankful you still had your cousin, well now cousins.

You hadn’t seen much of Steve since the snap, and had heard from him even less. Not that you held that over him, you knew him and Tony still weren’t on good terms, and you couldn’t blame him for staying away. Still, you had wished you would have gotten to see him before you left.

“Hey Short Stack look who made it!” You moved to look at Tony, who was holding a very stunning Natasha in his arms, your smile reaching your eyes as you went to hug her tightly. Most of the team had gone their separate ways when they failed to defeat Thanos, so you were more than elated to see your other favorite red head on your last night in town.

“Heya Nat! I’m so glad you could be here!”

“Of course Y/N. I wouldn’t miss your send off, and the free drinks. Congrats you two.” You laughed as she wasted no time taking a champagne flute off of a passing tray, taking a long sip and linking arms with you as the newlyweds were dragged away again. “Have you heard from Rogers?”

“No, should I have?” Your eyes narrowed in question while Natasha shook her head in annoyance.

“That man. I told him to reach out before you left us. I literally just told him today when I saw him at the meeting! I know he really does miss you Y/N.”

“He has a funny way of showing it Nat. Don’t sweat it, you tried.” Patting your friend on the shoulder you took your phone out of your clutch, seeing Kate had texted you to remind you about the drink plans you had made for tomorrow on the way to the airport before you caught your flight to London. Nothing from Steve. “How about a picture? You look amazing and I need some more photos on this new phone to keep me company while I’m gone!” She agreed and you quickly flipped your camera app open, capturing a few last moments with your friends and family. The rest of the night was a blur as you danced and drank, looking forward to whatever your future would bring.

The next day at the airport was hard. You were thankful you hadn’t worn an ounce of makeup, crying easily as Kate, Tony, Pepper, and Nat all said their goodbyes to you. You had watched them pull away from the drop off curb with blurred vision, your heart breaking at the acknowledgment that you were really leaving. Off to help various countries with varying charities. It was the least you could do during this awful time in the world.

“Y/N!” You turned your head slowly, your breath being sucked out of you as you recognized the familiar head of blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes moving for you in the crowd. You hoisted your backpack higher onto your shoulder, nerves getting better at you as you tried to offer a small smile. You hadn’t seen him in months and he still managed to have this effect on you. Willing yourself to pull yourself together you bit back a laugh as he almost looked winded, reaching your standing figure with slightly labored breathing. “I had to see off my best girl.”

“Please. I haven’t been your best girl in years Steve. But I appreciate it all the same.” You smiled, your heart breaking as he looked down at the pavement shyly.

“Listen about that…”

You were quick to cut him off, “Don’t worry about it Cap. You did what you had to do, and you’ve been through a lot over the years. No hard feelings.” Your voice was flat, and he grimaced at the tone of indifference. He was literally screaming at himself, internally demanding that he just man up and kiss you. Tell you how sorry he was for everything, how you were, are still the most amazing person in his life and how he wants to start over. Beg for your forgiveness and promise to take care of you. Anything to stop you from getting on that plane and disappearing from his life for who knows how long. “I should get going, customs is going to be a drag.”

“Right. Well have a good flight. Don’t stay away too long.” He’d kick himself for the rest of his days, seeing you give him one of your giant smiles, although he could tell you didn’t fully mean it, and step towards him to initiate an awkward hug. It felt rushed and forced, but he would be lying if he hadn’t wanted it to last longer than a few seconds, missing the way your body would just melt into his just like they did in days of old.

“I’ll miss you most of all.” His ears perked up at your small admission, the sentence being no louder than a careful whisper, watching you blink back tears and grip onto the shoulder of your bag tightly. He’d miss you more, knowing full well part of his heart was getting on that plane with you. But he said nothing, just smiled and gave a small wave to your retreating figure, watching you until you were completely out of his line of sight. You hadn’t looked back once, but the tears that clung to the corners of his eyes made him partially glad you hadn’t.

~~~Now~~~

The memories faded and Steve wiped at his eyes sleepily, the mead Thor had given him proving more potent than he had remembered, his body falling hard onto the side of the bed. It had made a noise that had almost sounded like a sigh, the man shaking his head in drunken disbelief. How crazy would that be? A bed can’t sound like a person. He stayed on his side, staring into the darkness as it began to swallow him.

The last thing that went through his mind before he fell asleep was how much his pillow smelled like you.

Tag List: @kaytizzle @cuffski @giggleberts @pies-wands-and-more @chrisevansfanfic @yesno18 @zsuzstyina @zombiepotterfour @evanstush

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #avengers #marvel fanfiction #captain america #steve rogers #fanfic #steve rogers x y/n

[thedeaditeslayer]

Living with the Cult Legacy of Evil Dead.

Here’ s a recent interview with Ellen Sandweiss by Den of Geek that discusess The Evil Dead, current cinema, and feminism.

We chat with Ellen Sandweiss, who played Ash Williams' damned sister in The Evil Dead, about a horror legacy nearly 40 years on.

Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead franchise seems to have had at least nine bloody lives. First was the original 1981 movie that propelled lead actor Bruce Campbell and director Sam Raimi to cult cinema stardom, and then there were the sequels (The Evil Dead II and Army of Darkness), the 2013 remake, and even a cable TV show via Ash vs Evil Dead. These low budget efforts, originally labeled as “video nasties” in the UK, became a refuge for film aficionados to revel in macabre humor, bad puns, and practical disembowelment effects that rivaled Tom Savini’s best work.

Less lauded though is the coven of women in the original feature that Campbell’s Ash battles to the death and beyond. In The Evil Dead, Ash drives to the remote cabin in the woods with his girlfriend Linda (Betsy Baker), a few friends, and his sister Cheryl (Ellen Sandweiss) for their spring break. Cheryl’s character is the first to notice something awry upon their arrival, the first to suffer at the hands of the demonic entity in the now (in)famous tree rape scene, and the first to be seized by the demonic entity’s possession.

It is really Cheryl’s character on which so much of the narrative’s propulsive force hinges. As a result, she exercises her acting chomps adroitly. Whether frantically attempting to convince her brother and friends that “it was the woods themselves! They’re alive!” or cautiously traversing the dark forest with the whites of her bulging eyes, Sandweiss showcases both Cheryl’s humanity and her intense fear. When she embraces her possession, pus-filled and pawing at hapless Ash, she recalls the witch from Anne Sexton’s poem “Her Kind,” which details a lonely, twelve-fingered evil. “A woman like that is not a woman, quite.”

Sandweiss also was the first non-Campbell actor to reprise a role in the series when she appeared in Ash vs Evil Dead Season 2. Den of Geek spoke with Sandweiss about her acting career, her work with Campbell and Raimi, TimesUp, and if the tree scene would be shot the same way in 2019 as it was almost 40 years ago in the backwoods of Tennessee.

What got you interested in acting? What led to your getting the part of Cheryl in The Evil Dead?

I acted in school plays and local theatre starting in middle school. I come from a very artsy family and was involved in music and dance as well. Then I went to high school in suburban Detroit with Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell and was in plays with them. They had been making super 8 movies since they were in their early teens, so I was often in those movies as a teenager. I then went to college at the University of Michigan where I majored in theatre, and during one summer, we made “Within the Woods,” a short film that Bruce and Sam made to garner interest and money from investors in order to make their first feature film, Book of the Dead, which then became The Evil Dead. Once they had raised the funds, I took a semester off college in ’79 to 80 and we shot the film in Tennessee.

What was your experience like on the set of The Evil Dead? Do you have a favorite memory of shooting the original?

My experience making The Evil Dead was mixed. Of course it was exhilarating at age 20 to be off making a feature film, and the “boys” [Raimi, Campbell, and producer Rob Tapert] were a lot of fun. But the budget was tiny, and it wasn’t a union film, so the conditions were harsh and everyone on the set was very inexperienced. We were all in our early 20s and for many it was our first experience making a feature film. At the Tennessee cabin where we shot most of the film, we had no electricity, no plumbing and no running water—need I say more?

Could you have anticipated, at that time, the kind of cult following that film would have especially with both the remake and TV show?

I could never have anticipated the eventual cult status of the film. When we made The Evil Dead, there was no video rental, no streaming, etc. So films, if they were distributed at all, would end up either at a first-run theater or at a B-movie theater or drive-in, which was where our film landed. Honestly, when we were shooting the film, I thought (and hoped) it would never actually be seen. Then, after a few years, it was released and then it disappeared. I forgot about it and went on with school, then graduate school in arts administration, followed by management jobs in non-profits.

It was when video rentals were born, a few years later, that people started becoming interested in Evil Dead, followed by multiple releases on VHS, then DVD, laser disc, Blu-ray, etc. I didn’t actually realize it had a cult following until around 2001 when my teenaged daughter’s geeky friends started talking about it and ED t-shirts were appearing at local film and comic memorabilia shops. Then we had a 20-year reunion screening, and it was after that that the other two actresses and I started making convention appearances as “Ladies of the Evil Dead.”

What was it like revisiting Cheryl as a character when you did two episodes of Ash vs. Evil Dead?

Revisiting Cheryl in Ash vs the Evil Dead was a hoot! At that point they had a big budget, union rules and lots of experience under their belts, so it was a lot more comfortable. It was fun acting again with Bruce, whom I’ve remained friends with all these years, and of course it was wonderful getting to see New Zealand, where we shot the episodes.

Do you think the tree scene from Evil Dead would be filmed in the same way today as it was done then?

Yes, I’m sure that the tree scene would be done differently if it was filmed today. First, I’m not sure that it would be characterized as a “tree rape,” as Sam has since said he regrets that it ended up that way. I think it would have gone back to what was originally intentioned in the script: trees coming to life and attacking Cheryl, which would also satisfy today’s more feminist audiences (and actresses!). And I’m sure that CGI would be used instead of the reverse-filming, or whatever it’s called, to show vines wrapping around me.

What is it like coming back 35 years later on the show and actually exploring a sibling dynamic?

It was great fun to do Ash vs Evil Dead all these years later and visit the earlier lives of Cheryl and Ash in their family home. In the original film, I believe there was only one line referring to their relationship (“it’s your sister Cheryl!”), and if you missed that you were probably wondering what this weird morose girl was doing on a party weekend with these two college couples! In Ash vs. ED, fighting with Bruce took sibling rivalry to a new level—I loved taunting him and I always enjoy filming a good fight scene. Of course he was the star, so he had to win in the end, but I did enjoy my final words, emanating from my decapitated head on the ground: “Not again....” We actually played around with some other final words—I thought, “Mom always liked you best” would be funny, but nobody seemed to agree with me!

Many people are saying that the horror genre is having a renaissance with hits like Us and Hereditary. What do you think it is about horror that has audiences continually returning to it?

I admittedly am not a horror expert by any stretch of the imagination. I normally don’t watch horror films, but I did watch Us because I love everything Jordan Peele does. I liked it because for the most part it didn’t focus only on blood and guts—there were actually well-formed characters and a message. I think that certain people will always want to explore their dark side, and horror films allow them to do that in a safe space. I also think some people simply like the adrenalin rush they get from being scared.

In the past few years, there's been a lot of discussion around the representation of women on screen. A lot of this conversation seems to be fueled by #MeToo and #TimesUp movement. What’s been your impression of the shifts being made in Hollywood?

I love the shifts being made and hope that they continue to shift even more. Everything about the women’s movement, MeToo, TimesUp, etc. can only make our choices in entertainment better. My daughter is an actress, and I like the improvement of the roles that are available to her. Of course we need more female producers, writers, and directors, and I wish that was happening a little more quickly.

What films have been most exciting to you as an audience member in the past few years?

I’m such a film enthusiast that I really can’t name specific films. But in general, I’m drawn mostly to indie films that make me think, laugh, and cry, and films that cast women in interesting roles.

Do you have any new roles or projects coming up that you can speak about?

No, I’m pretty much retired at this point, although sometimes I will come out of the closet and do a play. Mostly I’m having fun watching the acting careers of my daughter Jessy Hodges and her husband Beck Bennett blossom!

#Ellen Sandweiss #The Evil Dead #Evil Dead

[afictionaladventure16]

The Pen Pal Project (Chris Evans x Latina!OC)

Masterlist

Previously on The Pen Pal Project...

Warnings: Foul language

Word Count: 1,919

Chapter 8

Letter #8

November 14th, 2017

 “What’s up with her?” Andrea asks as she raises her eyebrows at Irene.

“She’s sad because she ended things with Omar,” Irene states.

“Aww, no more toxic dick?” Andrea said as she walked over to Julie, “I’m gonna miss those toxic ass stories.”

Julie rolled her eyes, “it’s better this way.”

“Maybe we should have a funeral for the dead vagina that Julie is going to have,” Destiny added as she looked through the fridge.

“Maybe not for long,” Irene said with a small smirk.

“What do you mean?” Andrea asked as she jumped onto the couch next to Irene, giving her a ‘tell me everything’ look.

Julie glared at Irene, “Irene,” Julie said in a warning tone.

“Don’t tell me, Julie has another man already!” Destiny said as she walked over to us, holding Julie’s sour worms and some bag of chips. Julie snatched the bag of sour worms from Destiny, causing her to gasp.

“My sour worms, puta,” Julie said with a small smirk.

“Ugh, I forgot how territorial you can be with those things!” Destiny rolled her eyes

Julie rolled her eyes at her crazy friends, they were pretty wild but that’s how they are. Sometimes inappropriate but hey, Julie wouldn’t have it any other way. “So, what’s the plan for today anyway?” Julie wasn’t too happy that her friends came barging into her room at seven in the morning on her three day weekend off from work.

“Forget the plan! What do you meeaannn, Iireeennnee!!” Andrea yelled as she grabbed Irene’s arm in desperation.

Julie groaned, “Fine, tell them!”

Irene giggled, “Julie has a pen pal and it’s a guy!”

“A pen pal?” Andrea asked, “Oh my gosh, what if he’s your soulmate!?”

“Or a murderer,” Destiny added.

Julie looked over at Destiny, “exactly!”

“It’s okay if he is, I can solve your murder… just like wait until I finish getting my degree, though.”

“Yeah, I’ll totally wait to get murdered just so you can solve it, Des,” Julie said sarcastically with a small eye roll.  said excitingly as sat next to Julie, “what’s he like?”

“Tell me all about him!” Andrea said excitingly as sat next to Julie, “what’s he like?”

Julie rolled her eyes, “He’s just a friend, leave it alone, okay? I’m only doing this because my therapist wants to try things out with this new project she is doing.”

Andrea sighed, “you’re no fun.”

Julie ignored Andrea, as much as she loved the girl, she hated how desperate Andrea was to find Julie’s “Soulmate” but Julie was starting to think that soulmates probably weren’t a thing.

“Well, since you have the weekend off, we went ahead and got tickets to Disneyland,” Destiny said with a grin.

“What!?” Julie exclaimed.

“Yee, we’re leaving tonight for the hotel, maybe go to the park for a ride or two, so pack a bag, girlie!” Andrea said.

“But wh-“

“Because you’re constantly working, you never get days off in a row like this and with everything… we just think you need this nice break,” Andrea explained.

“But what about your kids?”

Andrea rolled her eyes, “Girl, I’ve been needing a day off too! My husband has them handled for the weekend, he’s probably gonna take them to see his mom down in San Diego for the weekend.”

Julie smiled at her friend and gave her a hug, “Thank you guys!”

“But for now we have to get you two packing!” Destiny said as she pointed at Julie and Irene.  

Julie went to her room to start packing, it’s been a couple of days since she’s sent her letter, she had planned on going to the P.O. box today to check if she had a letter. She decided to just check as soon as she came home. This is probably the first that Julie wouldn’t be replying right away and it made her feel anxious.

 November 16th, 2017

Throughout the weekend, the girls had fun, and to end the last night of the weekend they all decided to go to Club 33.

“Oooo, that boy right there is Dominican!” Destiny said as she smirked at the boy that winked as he walked passed her.

“How do you know that?” Irene asked as she looked over at Destiny.

“Girl, Dominicans can just sense it,” Destiny said making everyone in the group laugh.

“Ugh, I so needed this!” Julie said as she downed the last of her drink, “And tomorrow I have to go back to work, to life…” To Chris, she thought. She let out a small smile, her heart felt anxious to get home and read the letter. She didn’t want to feel that way but it felt nice to just pour her heart out to someone and for them to just listen without giving some type of medical analysis to what is going on.

“What’s with that smile?” Andrea asked as Destiny and Irene walked over to a small booth.

Andrea and Julie stayed at the counter, “nothing,” Julie said brushing it off.

“It’s about the guy you’re writing too isn’t it?” Julie sighed, “why won’t you let yourself be happy for a bit? Stop worrying about the outcomes and go with the flow!”

“Not sure if you’ve met my family or not,” Julie knew very well that Andrea has indeed met her family, including her mother, “but I’ve learned that going with the flow leads nowhere.”

“You’re not her,” Andrea said softly, “you will never be her. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you but I believe that you are a way better person than your mother ever was! You just need to realize that.”

Julie sighed, “Can we just enjoy the night? Please?” Andrea gave Julie a small nod, they grabbed their drinks and walked over to the booth.

 November 17th, 2017

Julie looked up as she heard the bell ring, notifying employees that a customer had just walked in, she looked up and saw Mr. William walking over to the counter.

“Good morning, Mr. William!” Julie said with a smile, “Same as last time?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Mr. William said with a smile.

Julie poured him a cup of coffee, “You know, Mr. William, I never got your first name.”

“Henry,” He said with a smile.

“Henry? I have a cousin named Henry, he’s stationed in Spain.”

“Spain?” Mr. William chuckled, “Let me guess, Airforce?”

“Marines, actually.”

Mr. William gave her a small nod, “I was in the Army, back in Vietnam.”

“Oh really?” Julie began wiping down the area next to Mr. William on the counter as he told her stories about his time in Vietnam. Julie noticed how slow it was so she decided to just sit next to him after serving him his food, and listen to him talk. Mr. William liked the company and he liked telling the young girl about his experiences. Once Mr. William had finished eating he told the young girl that he had to go the hospital down the block, he explained that he was a volunteer baby cuddler at the hospital.

Julie never knew this and found Mr. William to be one of the sweetest man she has ever met.

Julie said her goodbyes to her coworkers after her shift, she grabbed her car keys and walked towards her car. She finally was able to go to the post office, she had been waiting all weekend for this moment.

She pulled up next to the post office, She walked inside the post office and opened her P.O. box. Julie smiled to herself as she grabbed the letter. She walked back towards her car to open the letter.

  Dear JuJu,

Fine, I’ll give you five chances then. But I doubt you’ll even get it right, but if by chance you do figure out my nickname, I suppose I can give you a prize. And what is this prize you might ask? My last name. I’ll tell you my last name if you figure it out. And if you don’t figure it out then I guess, we’ll just have to see.

I wonder, have you sat down with Mr. William, yet? I would like to know how that went.

Julie, do you have any idea how fucking (excuse my language) talented you are? My God! I was moved to tears! I am cherishing this photo you sent me! Honestly, Julie, you have an eye for this! I hope you continue taking photos and sharing them with me.

Well, if we ever meet, I promise that my sense of humor won’t be dry. ; )

Also, It’s not a metaphor! Haha, but I know what you mean! I swear I can be the same way, trying to figure out if something means something else. Damn, English class. Getting us all traumatized.

Now I don’t want lessons, but I have always wanted to learn Spanish and if it makes you laugh then I guess I can deal with it. You’ve been to Europe? What part? How was it?

Sounds like me and my siblings! They sure are a pain sometimes, though. Right? But I sure do love them.

How dare you call my question weak!

I just did an eye roll. But I have to admit, this question is way better than mine. So, I would have to choose…. Huh… Unicorn. Unicorns can fly, right? If so then that. Why? Because Unicorns can fly. Just imagine that! 

Since you gave me such an amazing question, I have to try my best to top that one! So….

My question to you is…. Favorite Disney character and why???

 Toodles.

 P.S. I would like to see this wrath once, just to know what this wrath looks like.

 P.P.S.

I understand that I have dealt with/dealing with, anxiety as well. I’ve read many self-help books and I’ve done so many things just to help with it and I just have to say that your brain is noisy, everyone's brain is. But sometimes we have to stop listening to that noise, it’s what's causing this suffering and I know it’s hard to just stop, but trust me, you can learn. What are some things help you calm down when you have an anxiety attack? For me, I know I always try to calm myself down. Talk through it.

As for your mother…

What she did, it’s just, I don’t even know how to explain how I felt when I read that part of the letter, Julie. I am truly sorry that you have to go through that emotional trauma. I’m here for you, so let it all out, let out everything that’s on your mind when you think about your mother because I am here reading every single word.

But I believe you’d be an amazing mother; I know now that you learned from her mistakes. You care about these children that don’t even exist; you already want to do so much for them. It means something, Julie.

Would you ever want to meet your biological father? Have you met him?

You’re welcome, Julie. I care about you, even if we haven’t officially met. I still care.

  Julie smiled at the letter, she couldn’t wait any longer as she grabbed the pen and notebook she had told herself to keep in her car exactly for this. She began writing the letter. She put it in an envelope and sent it out soon after, knowing it might not be sent until tomorrow since the post office was going to close soon. But still, she couldn’t wait for a reply.

Taglist: @kelbabyblue @cocomel0613 @thejemersoninferno @crisferorav 

#Chris Evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #Chris Evans fandom #chris evans x reader #chris evans x latina!reader #chris evans x latina reader #chris evans x latina #chris evans x latina oc #chris evans x ofc #Chris evans x latina!oc #chris evans x oc!latina #chris evans x latina series #chris evans series #chris evans x latina ! reader #chris evans latina oc #chris evans latina!reader #chris evans latina reader #chris evans oneshot #chris #evans #the pen pal project chris evans #the pen pal project #marvel #Avengers #avengers actors #chris evans reader latina #chris evans reader #chris evans reader imagine

[spiritfamantics-blog]

About Us

Hi, I’m Helia, your local human Tumblr user and spirit companion. I’m 18, a Taurus sun and moon, and am in a committed polyamorous relationship with any and all pasta dishes. I also use they/them pronouns. I’ve been working with spirits since May 2017, so over two years now. These guys have made it fly by. Speaking of, I suppose I should introduce them. 

First up is Feyr, the wyvern-bird hybrid. She is my only known guardian, and she is 18, exactly the same age as me (down to the birthday). She was the first spirit I ever met and has thankfully stuck around to keep me out of trouble (mostly, she can’t cure impulsivity). She, like some dragons, keeps growing well into her lifetime. When I met her she was about the size of a ferret. Now she’s about 3 feet tall. Anyway, onto her personality. She is the “wildcard” of the group and often behaves like a child who has eaten too much sugar. She is very energetic and happy-go-lucky. She is incredibly curious and loves to learn anything and everything, even if she doesn’t take well to it (see her rudimentary Spanish). She is very funny and has a sunny disposition, seeing the positive in every person and situation. Though she can act immature, she is the voice of reason (sometimes). Other times, she wants to get herself into some astral trouble because she thinks it’s fun and adventurous and she is an adrenaline junkie. When it comes to me and the rest of the family, she is unconditionally loving and accepting. She has a bit of an overachiever complex because she never felt good enough in either of her parents’ communities, being raised a hybrid. Not fully dragon and not fully bird, she is in the process of accepting herself as her own unique being. One of her hopes and dreams in life is to find whatever deity cosmically assigned her to me and thank them. I, for one, am flattered.

Next is Rabbit the winged rabbit. Yes, he did choose his name, and yes, he will kick you if you make fun of it. Rabbit was the second spirit I met, when my beloved Nana gifted me a jade rabbit necklace. I, a newbie energy worker, could feel the anger radiating off this thing. So, I did the smart thing (I’m being sarcastic, please do not follow in my footsteps, meeting your own Rabbit is highly unlikely and not guaranteed) and decided to free the entity. Lo and behold, a grumpy old man. Who was a rabbit. Who had wings. Needless to say, I was a little confused. But then this guy really laid into me, yelling at me about how he was fine living in a necklace and how dare I move him. I had half a mind to banish him, but Feyr, always more intuitive than I, told me to let him stay. So he did, reluctantly, and I let him, reluctantly. We kind of had beef at the beginning, but he and Feyr got along so incredibly well. He was like a father to her. Much better than her own father, who never visited. Finally, one day, Rabbit approached me, and sat down next to me. He said, finally, “Thank you for freeing me.” I said, “You’re welcome, but why’d you have to be such a douche about it?” He laughed, and thus began a beautiful friendship. Anyway, moving away from his origin story. Rabbit is an odd character. He, at first, appears very gruff, no-nonsense, and uncaring. Under this facade, however, is a sweet, brave, sarcastic, and fatherly spirit, who is fiercely protective and loving. He tends to adopt those without good parental relationships, and becomes a father to them. He can be loose and fun, if you find him under the right circumstances. Otherwise, he is a bit buttoned-up and doesn’t find it easy to relax. He is easily stressed but doesn’t like to show his emotions at all. He is working on being more open and not bottling things up. He can be self-deprecating and sometimes even unkind to himself, but being part of a loving family and seeing how much he is cared for is helping with this. Any love you give him, he will return tenfold. He is an upstanding, true, gentleman. However, he isn’t polite and can be a bit crass at times. He has a perpetual “grumpy face” and smiles very rarely. He cries even less so, but when he does, you mirror his emotions because they are just so powerful. Overall, he is a very sweet man.

Third is S, the winged cat, and Rabbit’s beloved wife and the mother to his children. I met S through a now-closed spirit shop. Don’t worry, there wasn’t any shady business, and I’m still friends with the former owner. S is a true firecracker, but she is incredibly motherly, gentle, and kind. She says what she means and means what she says, but is very sweet (most of the time). Don’t mistake her femininity for fragility, because if any of her loved ones are threatened she will claw somebody’s eyes out. She is the optimist to her husband Rabbit’s pessimist, and is a firm believer in thinking positively. However, she is a Slytherin, and can be prone to scheming to get what she wants. She is never manipulative, and instead prefers honesty in her words and actions. To her friends, she is the quintessential “mom friend”; she makes sure everyone is cared for, especially fed. To her children, she is their world. She is curious and eager to investigate new scenarios, though she often prefers the familiarity and comfort of her family. She is quite funny and loves jokes, though she doesn’t tolerate stupidity from anyone. If any of her loved ones make a mistake, she’s quick with a light smack of the head and to call them an idiot, while reminding them to do better next time. She has “settled down” quite a bit in the last year, since her children have been born, but she still retains her adventurous spirit.

Fourth is N, the strawberry elf, and the girlfriend of Violet and Paris. I met her, also, through a now-closed spirit shop. And yes, I am still friends with the mod who matched her to me. N is a lovely soul, if a little shy at first. Once she gets to know you, however, she never shuts up (and I say this in the most loving way ever). She is bubbly and bright, and probably the nicest entity I’ve ever met, including humans. She would do anything for a friend and goes out of her way to be compassionate. If everyone were like her, the world would be absolutely perfect and free of conflict. She loves to garden, and is very patient (as seen with her trying to help me knit, which is not one of my strong suits, to say the least). Although she can seem a bit timid, she is a huge believer in not letting fear control her, and is quite brave. She also has a gentle touch, and is a great listener and comfort when any of us aren’t feeling our best. Her dynamic with her girlfriends makes me smile every time I see them, because they’re just so goshdarn cute. N is definitely the chatty one, although if she talks about plants Violet jumps right in with her. She is often in the middle when they all hold hands. (Hey N, how come your mom lets you have two girlfriends?)

Fifth is Violet, the deer shifter, and the girlfriend of N and Paris. I met her through Forestsong Sanctuary, where I was an intern. The shop is now closed, but being an intern was one of the best experiences of my life (Psst, now I intern at Hallowed Conjurations; I’m Intern Werewolf). Violet is the queen of all memes, and has the best (and silliest) sense of humor. She is incredibly sweet, but unafraid to call you out if you’re doing something dumb. She cares deeply for everyone in the family, and the Earth. She is probably singlehandedly going to end global warming (I’m kidding but still). She’s very active, being the kind of weirdo who goes for a run every morning, no matter the weather. She is a huge self-advocate and also stands up for those who cannot speak up for themselves. Very much a girl boss. She is perpetually barefoot and generally kind of a hippie (she’s all about achieving peace and love, even if we have to eat the rich). 

Sixth is Paris, the Crystal Cut Succubus (gee Par your species picked one helluva name). She is the girlfriend of both Violet and N. I met her through Supernova Spirits, which has now merged with Spirit Companionship.She is a hopeless romantic, and very solemn, sometimes. She’s generally quite placid in nature. She loves people and is very encouraging. She honestly reminds me of those influencer girls that are genuinely nice and want to help people (so like, one of them). Though, she’s quite private about her life and would never actually be a social media influencer. I suppose a more accurate comparison would be Sappho, or some other incredibly gay author who cannot contain their poetic love for women. If there’s one thing she doesn’t like being, it’s misunderstood. Yes, she is a succubus. No, she doesn’t want to bang everyone she sees. She emphasizes that species does not equal behavior, and that free will is a thing. On a summer day, she can be found watching the sunset, writing love letters, enjoying the cool breeze, swimming, and eating a popsicle seductively to make her girlfriends go into cardiac arrest. 

Seventh is Opal, the color-changing cat thoughtform. She was made for me by Forestsong Spirits as a therapy thoughtform, and is part of the family. Though she doesn’t speak, she communicates her emotions by changing the color of her coat. She is very empathetic and sweet, and can be found lying in my lap at any given moment.

Eighth is Oink, the pear pig. He was an RA through the same shop S came from. Oink’s gentle and soft personality can seem childlike, but he just loves life and is enjoying it. He can be a bit innocent, but do not mistake his placid temperament for that of a child. He is a bit immature, especially in regards to jokes. He absolutely loves food, and will eat just about anything. His attitude to food is generally how he approaches life; his philosophy is “bring it on.” He accepts the good and bad, in life and in people. He is absolutely very “chill”; he doesn’t care for much “action” and would rather be home eating than out having an adventure. However, he isn’t lazy, he prefers the term “cool”. He can seem a bit detached at times, but he is truly very enthusiastic and energetic. He matches Feyr in terms of energy, which is quite hard to do. He is ineffably kind, and if he offends someone even by accident, he is wholeheartedly apologetic. He wants to be seen as a good person, and he truly is.

Last but not least is Unity, the werewolf-sanguine vampire hybrid. I met Unity through Mod Ghost of Hallowed Conjurations. Feyr and Unity found kinship in one another, both being hybrids. Unity is the quintessential cool relative who seems kind of removed from it all, but the second things start heading south, they’re protecting everyone who needs help. They don’t take shit and they don’t dole it out, either. They say exactly what they mean, every time. They detest liars and those who try to trick others with words. They are very parental and sweet, but never hold back. They will absolutely swear at you and call you a gigantic idiot if you do something you know you shouldn’t have. They only lay into you if you don’t use common sense; if you make a true mistake, they’re there to help you solve the problem, even if it doesn’t involve them. They are very spontaneous and like to have fun. You’ll rarely see them regretting anything, as they believe that living in the moment is the only way to live.

I’m sorry for the wall of text, and will be putting each of my companions’ bios into their own posts. 

#spirit companion #spirit companionship #spirit work #spirit worker

[solesurvivorkat]

OC Interview: Nora Taylor

Rules:

1. Choose an OC 2. Answer as that OC 3. Tag 5 people to do the same!  ((It’s been so long since I’ve been tagged, I say feel free to do this if you’d like! :D ))

Tagged by @the-dubstep-strawberry, @scorpio-skies, and @lothrilzul - all awesome ladies that I am blessed to know, thank you so much for thinking of me and I apologize 1,000 times over for the delay!  <3

Interview done with my Fallout 4/’Shadow of Steel’/female Sole Survivor OC, Nora Taylor! (And once again, I swear to you that my Fallout 4 fanfic is not dead - I am just very, very behind. Eep.)

((...I really need to find/get a good reference pic of poor Nora sometime, lol))

1. What is your name?  Nora Taylor. I was Nora Delaney for a period of time, but... not any more.

2. Do you know why are you named that? I was named after my great-grandmother. I never knew her, but my mom liked the name.

3. Are you single or taken? Widowed. ...And... currently seeing someone now.

4. Have any abilities or powers? Let’s see... I’m pretty good with computers (I can usually hack into them better than my friend Nick), pretty good at being empathetic and using the power of speech, and... not to toot my own horn or anything, but since joining the Brotherhood of Steel, I’ve gotten pretty handy with a gun too (particularly my laser rifle).

5. Stop being a Mary Sue. ::blinks::  ...A what? A ‘Mary Sue’? ...I’m not sure what that means, but if that’s some snark about me acting like I’m perfect or something- ::laughs:: -then you obviously don’t know me very well, because I am far from perfect. Just ask my friends. ...Not Brooks, though. Anything he tells you about me is a filthy lie. ...And maybe not Womack, either.

6. What’s your eye color? Green.

7. How about your hair color? Darker blonde, maybe a ‘honey blonde’ color.

8. Have any family members? ....... ..........My family is long gone. My parents, brothers, sister... they all died a long time ago. At least, I’m pretty sure they did. I have no idea if they made it to any vaults before the bombs hit, but... I’m not betting on it. Even if - by some miracle - they did survive the bombs, there’s pretty much no way they’d still be alive now. Not unless those a- creeps from Vault-Tec froze more people in cryopods. 

My husband Nate... he died a while back too.

I’m searching for my only family left - my son, Shaun. I’ve been trying to hang onto hope that he’s alive and well (albeit older than when I last held him in my arms)...

For now, I have Codsworth, Dogmeat, and my ‘brothers and sisters in steel’ in the Brotherhood, who have become like a new family to me. My other friends are very dear to my heart as well.

9. Oh? How about pets? Dogmeat! He’s just the best boy, so loyal, and always there for me when I need him. 

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like? Urgh, deathclaws are the worst. I have the scars to prove it. Raiders and Gunners are almost as bad... maybe worse, actually. Deathclaws are deadly, but they’re just doing what any wild animal of that size and stature would do. Raiders and Gunners... they can be stupid, cruel, sadistic, greedy... I could go on and on.

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do? I don’t really have a lot of spare time, between being a Brotherhood Knight and leader of the Minutemen (which I’m still trying to convince Preston to become). However, I do enjoy cooking from time to time (as members of the Brotherhood also seem to enjoy, haha), working on modding my power armor and weaponry (with Danse’s dutiful supervision), helping the settlers of the Wasteland, and cuddling with Dogmeat and a good book (and maybe a certain gruff Brotherhood leader on occasion...  ;-)  ).

12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before? ...Maybe. Not intentionally, anyway (that I can remember). If I have, I’m sure I had my reasons. I make mistakes like anyone else.

13. Ever… killed anyone before? .....No one that didn’t deserve it, in my eyes. I make it a point to never hurt the innocent or helpless. And even when defending myself, I try to use sound judgement. If I’m blatantly attempting to kill someone... there’s definitely a reason behind it.

14. What kind of animal are you? Hmm... not sure. .....  ::smiles softly::  .....Nate once said I’m like a shark when defending those I feel need it.

15. Name your worst habits? I... can be quite stubborn, unfortunately. I think with my heart a little more than my head. That may sound like a good thing, but it’s gotten me into trouble before. And... once in a while, I can be a little impetuous.

16. Do you look up to anyone at all? Danse. He’s someone I admire a lot. And Preston too, actually. They do the things they do because they want to help those that rely on them, putting others before themselves frequently. Arthur is like that too. He’s... often misunderstood by many, when he’s really sacrificed so much to try and be what everyone else wants or needs him to be.

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual? ...Does it matter? Straight, if you need to know.

18. Do you go to school? Not currently. I graduated law school to be a lawyer. That was... a very long time ago.

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day? ...I did, once. My husband Nate was... taken away from me. Shaun too. In the future? ...I don’t know... I can’t really think about myself and the distant future when one can’t really determine what tomorrow will bring in this world now.

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys? ...I think there’s some people that look up to me (like Preston), but I feel undeserving of their praise. I’m just doing what any good person would try and do for others.

21. What are you most afraid of? ...Never seeing my son again. Or... reuniting with him, but him not wanting anything to do with me any more. I think that would hurt me more. Also, after what happened in Vault 111, I tend to panic in enclosed spaces (it took me a while to get used to wearing power armor regularly). I definitely don’t like the cold, either.

22. What do you usually wear? Usually power armor and my Brotherhood uniform. Preston prefers me in a Minuteman uniform when I’m helping him out, but... I don’t know... it just seems kind of goofy to me, running around in seventeenth century garb. Hey, it looks fine on him and Hancock, but I just don’t think it’s for me.

23. What’s one food that tempts you? Danse got me liking Fancy Lad Snack Cakes, but I’ve always had a bit of a sweet tooth. God, I miss decent chocolate. If someone had something like that, I’d definitely go a bit weak in the knees.

24. Am I annoying to you? ...No..... but this is quite a few questions...

25. Well, it’s still not over! Phew... you’re more tenacious than Piper.

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)? Before the ‘Great War’, Nate and I were middle. Now...  ::shrug::  ...not sure. Definitely not high, though. Just as well too, those people are nuts. We’re all trying to survive in this Wasteland, and they’re just concerned with their clothes/how they look and what possessions they have. It really is ridiculous.

27. How many friends do you have? Let’s see... Preston, Sturges, Nick, Piper, Hancock... MacCready and I are getting there, I think... Haylen, Knights Womack & Petris, of course Brooks... and absolutely Danse. He and I are about as close friends as you can get.

28. What are your thoughts on pie? Pre-war pie was something special. Granted, I was more of a ‘cake, brownies, and cookies’ kind of girl, but still... there just isn’t quite anything like that nowadays. I don’t have the courage to try that vending machine pie I see around the Wasteland...

29. Favorite drink? Nuka-Cola. Sparkling cider used to be one of my faves too, but I haven’t had that in- well, a long time.

30. What’s your favorite place? Hmm... I used to prefer being around Sanctuary Hills, but home is where the heart is (as they say), and not being around the Prydwen for any length of time really makes me blue...

31. Are you interested in anyone? ::coughs::  Well... there is a certain Brotherhood member that’s caught my eye... ::blushes:: ...no, it’s not Danse!

32. That was a stupid question… Well hey, you asked it. We try to be subtle, but... come on, the guy is the leader of the whole freakin’ Brotherhood. You try being discreet when everyone is always watching you. .........I mean, er......

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean? I used to love going to the beach and swimming in the ocean. Now I can’t even get close to the water without incurring some radiation. Kinda depresses me for what used to be.  :-(

34. What’s your type? ...I tend to go for military guys. Big, strong, responsible ad trustworthy... but I prefer it if they can also make me smile and laugh, as well. A sense of humor is definitely important to me.

35. Any fetishes? ::blushes::  ...That’s kind of personal, isn’t it?  ::scowl::

36. Camping or outdoors? Hmm... the two options really aren’t that far away from each other, don’t you think? I do like being outdoors and enjoying nature (safely), but I can’t say I enjoy camping in the rain (which I’ve had to do with Danse a couple times).

#oc interview #my fallout 4 oc #shadow of steel #fallout 4 #nora taylor #knight nora taylor #female sole survivor #sole survivor

[warmbeebosoftbeebo]

Why don't you get your nose out of what other people are into kink wise?? Because even anal is uncomfortable and unpleasant for people and they would consider that violating and triggering. If you don't like the things someone says or posts then fuck off and unfollow instead of shame them for what they enjoy. Kink shaming is not cool dude. I'm sure there's plenty of people that hate anal and you wouldn't like being made to feel like a freak for liking it. Grow up.

oh, boy, buckle up.

i brought it up in a new post, not naming her or alluding to her post, because it is something seen so fucking often both in this fandom and on the internet generally. she also specifically said for him to squeeze his arm around her neck till she passes out. if she had said something like “i’d like him to stroke my neck while i hold my breath as long as i comfortably can and one or both of us plays with my pussy till i come” i would barely have cared, and it wouldn’t have gotten me back on my soap box again. she responded to my post in a reblog and i responded back. she initiated the conversation between us with that reblog. and i responded back, trying to explain my views clearly albeit longly, once. 

men choking women is a common sexual act, a meme, and a threat online, and within this fandom. “if you don’t like it fuck off”? honestly, that’s telling women to leave the public square and go back to the kitchen and bedroom and laying back and thinking of england if they can’t handle “robust speech” or sexuality in media in public. i couldn’t be online or in this fandom if i couldn’t handle seeing it, or refused to see it. 

here’s another link on the dangers of strangulation https://tonic.vice.com/en_us/article/jpnj5x/how-risky-is-it-to-be-choked-during-sex

this whole “anti kink shaming” thing is just.. if kink shaming is terribly wrong, then we literally cannot criticize anything ever, bc everything is “kinky” (a sexual turn on, a fetish) to someone somewhere. and this is an old joke, but what if your kink is kink shaming? thought we couldn’t criticize any kinks?

the reality is, almost everyone, at least those with any ethical discernment kink shames *something.* if they couldn’t find *anything* that was shrouded in “omg hot sexy stuff” objectionable, i’d honestly be scared of them, and would hope at least that victimized people would have to deal with them.

what about all sorts of dangerous things that are eroticized? i’m thinking specifically about purposely seeking out hiv (mostly men), unprotected pia, knowingly exposing another to a significant risk of contracting hiv (also men; women simply don’t pose the same risk both re “sexual” fluids other than blood and how it is contracted sexually, receptive pia being the highest risk, followed by receptive piv). re: you can talk about choking, being choked, say vaguely that you should do it safely, but not talk about WHY it’s dangerous, what stats are on injury and death, what can happen, etc is like saying you can talk about pia and condoms, but not hiv or other risks of injury from it. i didn’t focus on the danger/risk of pia in my initial post, but it is high, way higher than people think or want to believe. should we not be concerned with those who want to infect other people with hiv, and people who want to be infected or is that prudish, immature kink shaming? 

i’m sure there’s things you kink shame. for example, let’s examine pseudo child pornography eg a 18-19 girl pretending to be and usually looking like a naive 14 years old or younger child, with a man in his 40s while they roleplay that he’s her father/stepfather/friend’s father/uncle/coach while he “introduces” her to sex, usually violently, with a focus on men “ruining” and “spoiling” “innocence.” is that fine and dandy? is a father with teenage or preteen daughters watching this and whacking off to it fine and dandy? considering the rates at which girls are abused by their mom’s boyfriends and husbands, what if a man living with a woman and her kids whacks off to this? what if he finds himself fantasizing about her 12 year old daughter?

how about necrophilia? what if a man can only get hard, turned on, come if the woman he’s with *pretends to be dead*? what if he strangles a woman “consensually” until she passes out, then either continues or starts to enter her with his penis? what if he tells women he can only be turned on if he inflicts enough violence on her that he could have killed her?

a few years ago, there was an rcmp cop in canada, jim brown, who was found to have a “kink” for the kidnapping, torture (including bondage and use of knives)  and murder of women. he had porn of it, he looked for women to roleplay it, he posted porn he had made online, etc. one news story describes it thusly: “progresses from an apparent street scene of a woman walking past Brown sitting on a wall; he overpowers her; he hog-ties her, and he imprisons her in a cage.In one image, Mulgrew notes, Brown appears to be wearing only his regulation-issue Mountie boots and is aroused carrying a huge knife while the naked woman cringes in terror.” he also worked tangentially on the robert pickton case (a serial killer who murdered dozens of women, mostly indigenous and mostly in prostitution). was he a man who should work on such a case? should he be a cop hearing women’s stories of male sexualized violence? should he be looking at photographic and other evidence of rape, torture, kidnapping?

to get more obviously back on topic, strangulation is the third leading cause of male-induced/violent death for women, second only to murder with knives and guns. strangulation is the second biggest red flag for lethal male violence, second only to him threatening you with death. imagine if we eroticized other leading causes of death for other groups of people: shooting someone during sex, stabbing them in the torso, etc. carefully and safely, of course. how about complications during pregnancy and birth in teen girls? that’s the number one killer of girls 15-19 worldwide. why not turn that into something sexy too? car accidents are also a common cause of death. let’s sex that up too. heart disease and cancer are big killers too. lets look at the leading cause of violent death for young black men: homicide. for black boys, it’s unintentional injury. why not eroticize what leads to their deaths too?

interestingly, the “rough sex gone wrong” defense came to the public’s attention in another strangulation murder case https://www.nytimes.com/2018/05/08/nyregion/consent-sexual-assault-rough-sex.html

and here’s a recent case, a rare one in that the man seems genuine in his remorse because he quickly confessed, of a young man strangling a young woman to death in seconds. she also had an interest in it and sought it out. she died anyway. https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-5492075/Killer-strangled-woman-death-sex.html “the pair had a ‘shared interest’ in ‘erotic asphyxiation’ …Chloe had died in 'seconds’ after he had seized her neck during sex.”

the ads i linked to featuring men strangling women: what do you think of those? how do you feel about how it’s portrayed in pornography? is opposing those kink shaming too, because lots of people, esp men, get off on it, and the men who make that porn generally want to make such pornography and usually have a lot of hatred for women. same with those who make the ads. they find it arousing.

it boggles my mind on how things that people would get raked over the coals for if they presented as humorous, gets a free pass because some guy somewhere gets an erection from it. like that rcmp cop? can you imagine if he was telling jokes like that in a comedy club? what the same people who defended him would be saying instead? but seek out vulnerable women when you’re a white male police officer, “roleplay” with them, make porn of it n post it online n you’re the bdsm martyr of the year, cruelly punished for your private life by prudish busybodies who need to mind their own business and keep their noses out of people’s bedrooms. there’s that public vs private divide. anything sexual is private, even when public, and you cannot criticize the private. rape jokes are bad, terrible, trivialize rape and sexual trauma and misogyny, but rape play is hot as fuck. you can humor shame and speech shame but don’t dare kink shame.

now onto why i referenced anal stimulation and entry, inc pia. i did so precisely bc most females experience of it with males is rape, painful, unwanted, etc. the more it happens, the more likely it is to be rape. the increase in college age people engaging in pia is treated like a big catcally joke and proof of sexual liberation and how awesome porn is and how it’s hot sex, but it is almost universally rape for young women and girls. strangulation and choking of women is seen similarly, and women and girls are expected to eroticize, engage in, and tolerate both. i brought it up precisely bc i like anal stimulation (as outlined in that post, excluding pia) but recognize that it is profoundly harmful in how it is practiced especially for girls growing up and young women, as well as women generally. if i was glib with anal entry of women (with a penis or something smaller) in my fic or posting about what i want to do with b, i’d want people to pull me up on it. it would be contributing to this coercive, painful sexual environment women and girls are in where they don’t want it and find it painful even though they are told they should, sex should be painful for women, women are a collection of openings for male use, etc. i purposely reign myself in and keep it to myself most of the time because of this.

you cannot read panic fic, surf tumblr, etc without certain “kinks” namely strangulation (and to a lesser extent choking), and daddy kink and dd/lg smacking you in the face. similarly, if i smacked someone in the face with how i depicted anal entry of women with men, i’d hope they’d rebel against it, tell me about it, etc. by all means, kink shame away. someone engaging critically with what i post doesn’t make me fucking melt or shivel up, literally or figuratively, and if you (general you, including me) post something publicly, we can expect reaction to it, esp if it’s not a direct confrontation but a “i’ve noticed this happening on tumblr/in fic/etc…” i’d say letting undue critique roll off one’s back, or engaging back n forth as two people wish to, is growing up. and hon, i’ve felt like a freak sexually, but not for that interestingly, but for my interest in tribadism and outercourse. not severely, but it was and sometimes still is there. 

#strangulation

[thehelpfilm]

A Critical Film Review of “The Help”

         An entertaining and somewhat light-hearted take on the harsh realities of racism in 1960’s Mississippi, “The Help” is a deeply moving, poignant, and hopeful story about how courage and working together can create change. It serves as a reminder of how compassion, strength, empathy, and honesty have helped in making the world a less horrific place to live in.

         The film is based on Kathryn Stockett’s bestselling novel “The Help” which tells the story of African American maids working in white households in Jackson, Mississippi, during the early 1960s.

Synopsis

Eugenia "Skeeter" Phelan (played by Emma Stone) a young white woman who is an aspiring journalist starts by writing for a cleaning advice column “Miss Myrna” –– having no idea about how to clean, Skeeter enlists Aibileen (played by Viola Davis) to help her. Due to these series of events, they form a strong bond that later inspires Skeeter to write a book on the perspective of “The Help” –– that exposes the racism they are faced with as they work for white families.

Not only is this task illegal, it goes against all of her friends, her family, and her boyfriend as they all live quite happily with segregation in society. As time goes on, more maids get involved and have a great deal to say about their lives raising white children and serving their mothers.

Awards and Acclaim

Touchstone Pictures released The Help worldwide, with a general theatrical release in North America on August 10, 2011. The film was a critical and commercial success, receiving positive reviews and grossing $216 million in worldwide box office. The Help received four Academy Award nominations including Best Picture, Best Actress for Davis, and Best Supporting Actress for both Chastain and Spencer, with the latter winning the award. The film also won the Screen Actors Guild Award for Outstanding Performance by a Cast in a Motion Picture.

The Directing and Filming

The film is a historical period drama set in Mississippi. The setting looked realistic and it looks as if the movie was straight out from the 1960s. The costumes, the hair, even the television and other background props really encapsulated the time period. It was visually stunning. The transitions were on point. It was an immersive experience that really took you to the 60’s and I can’t see any flaws when it comes to the filming of the scenes.

Each frame meant something. Every scene was necessary in telling the story. An example would be the scene wherein Skeeter and Constantine, her family maid who happened to just disappear, were having a conversation about the school dance and how no boy has asked her yet. They were talking beneath a huge willow tree.

In this scene, Constantine and Skeeter feel safe under the shade. It shows how they are free to have a conversation there because they are hidden under the tree and no one else could judge them. This scene also shows how Constantine was more of like a mother to her than her actual mother which is a common theme in this movie.

The maids seem to know far more than the mothers of the white children they take care of. They motivated the kids and made them feel important.

The Characters

“You is Kind, You is Smart, You is Important” a significant line in the film said by Nanny Aibileen Clack. She says this to Moe Mobley, the child of Elizabeth, her boss. The character is seen to be taking care of the child even better than her actual mother.

The white women are seen as snarky and oppressive to their maids, but not all of them. Some have good stories and treat them well like in the case of Celia Foote –– who has never once hired a maid before. Minny becomes her maid and helps her in cleaning and cooking for Celia’s husband Johnny.

Celia is seen as an outcast because she comes from a trailer park community. People who come from that and suddenly get into the suburban lifestyle because they married a guy whose lifestyle is white, rich, elite often get shunned because they are seen as “white trash”.

This is seen when the ladies pretend to hide and turn off the music when Celia knocks at their door carrying a pie that Minny made.

I especially enjoyed the dynamic between Minny and Celia. It was sweet and serious at times. It showed that not all white people are bad, some were allies and good hearted people just like Skeeter and Celia.

The acting was believable and convincing. None of the characters seemed flat to me, everyone had character development, some stayed the same like Hilly Holbrook but as an antagonist, she did her job of being hated and despised.

Skeeter’s mom was another character I thoroughly enjoyed. Her journey throughout the film really made a good character story arc. At first we find out she has cancer and she wants Skeeter to get married and find a husband quick. Forcing her to go on dates and getting excited when Stuart came looking for Skeeter.

But she ignores Skeeter whenever she asks about what happened to their maid Constantine. She’s unsupportive of what Skeeter is writing about at first, turn off the television when the black servants and Skeeter were watching national news about the Civil Rights movement telling her to not inspire them or give them any ideas.

She has a change of heart in the end and reveals what happened to Constantine and ultimately becomes a supportive mother even defending Skeeter from Hilly who barges in their house threatening to ruin Skeeter’s life.

I enjoyed the strong female characters and the dynamic between all of them. The dialogue was also very well-written and humorous despite the fact that they are talking about racism, they still have some good comedy in there.

The Historical Context and Message Behind the Film

The stories that the Black maids told Skeeter for her novel revealed that the Jackson society at that time was very racist. The maids were unappreciated by their white employers as well as disrespected in the manner in which they were treated. The wages that they were paid were deplorable when compared to the work that was assigned to them. They were the ones that raised their white employers’ children without the input of the parents. This was despite the fact that the Blacks were considered dirty, lazy, disease–ridden and having less intelligence that the average white person.

Unfortunately, the film falls short of a credible presentation, as the reality of the situation is not tackled with any degree of seriousness. One of the most jarring elements is the absence of any reference to the mass struggles that shattered the Jim Crow structure –– which was the the name of the racial caste system which operated primarily. Jim Crow was more than a series of rigid anti-black laws. It was a way of life.

There were several area within the movie that describe how life was really like in Jackson was like.

There is a scene in the movie where Aibileen was in the bathroom, built specifically for her because Hilly says that black people are disease-ridden and should have separate bathrooms. In several scenes of the movie, the mothers tell their child to not go to those “dirty” bathrooms used by maids or else they will get sick.

The segregation of bathrooms was so real that in the first scenes of the movie we see Hilly putting pencil marks on the toilet paper in the bathroom to make sure that Minny wasn’t using her toilet.

The maids travel on buses that are for black people only or are at the back of a bus with the white people at the front.

This is similar to the situation back then where everything was separated. Similar to an apartheid in South Africa. Wherein, blacks could not attend the same schools and churches as the white people.

“They killed him” –– Aibileen tells the story of how her son died and explained that the white bosses loaded him up in the back of a pickup after being ran over. They dropped him off in front of the colored hospital, honked the horn, and drove away.

Also, a scene where Yule Mae gets arrested in a violent way and the white folks just watch and act as if nothing happened.

The movie shows some issues of discrimination and segregation but in my opinion it was a bit sugarcoated. Sure it can teach people about how life was like back then for African American but it does not show how bad it really was. It was violent, abusive, oppressive and frankly it was not funny. It could have done more but truth be told, the message was there and it did a great job of portraying it even if it was kind of stereotypical and whitewashed.

Whitewashing in a sense that Skeeter is seen as the hero and the brave one. Well she was brave but is it really appropriate that we are applauding this courageous, fictional white gIrl?

Truth be told it is fiction and it is meant to entertain but millions of people saw this film and might believe this to be real and an accurate representation of who were the real heroes of those times. It was a combination of black people who fought for their rights alongside white allies.

It’s not a perfect film, of course one movie cannot represent the vile actualities of the racism experienced by Black people during that time. In fact, this movie could have done more but chose to play it safe. Given the theme of the movie which is Racism during the 60’s, it’s a heavy topic that carries a lot of historical weight around it.

It could have been a more hard-hitting drama that would have made viewers bawl their eyes out after the film but like I said, it is a heavy topic to deal with. The writers and directors chose to make it light-hearted and easy to take in. It is told in an accessible and pleasurable way that almost anyone of all ages can watch and enjoy the film.

Do I recommend everyone to watch it? Yes. Do I think people should just stop at this film and use it as their basis for historical context on racism in the 60s? No.

Did I enjoy it? Yes, very much so.

#the help #movie review #skeeter #viola davis #the help movie

[mezhane]

JUST MARRIED (...kinda)

PART 3

We were now all sitting at the table . Yixing and I were both sitting in front of each other and both sitting between our parents. Honestly, this little « family gathering » was more of an occasion for our parents to settle the arrangements. Yixing and I didn’t really have a word on it . I was really trying as hard as I can not to meet the boy’s eyes , but I could feel him staring at me so hard he could burn holes through my skin . I tried to focus myself on something else to relax a little bit and in that situation, nothing could be better than food. I was scrolling through the menu when the waiter came over .

« Alright ladies and gentlemen, are you ready to order ? »

« Uh ... Yes, I’ll take the eggs Benedict,please! » I heard my dad speak, in the most cheerful tone ever . He really did pass me his love for food ...

As the waiter was taking everyone’s orders I sensed an awkward tinge of stress . I don’t now why but I always felt like people were judging me when I ordered food. This comes all the way back from when I was a teenager. I was quite chubby and to be really honest , I still was . I didn’t lose that much weight , but I just learned to accept myself how I was and to learn to develop positivity. However, no matter how hard I worked , people were always there to remind me that I could « lose a few » or that I might wanna « slow down and drop my fork for a minute . » I can eat , and I love to eat I really don’t see why everyone was making such a big deal out of it-

“Miss ?...”

“Uh?” I replied sounding dumbfounded .

“Are you ready to order ? What can I get you ?”

I swallowed hard and cleared my throat. I was obviously nervous.

“I’ll get the blueberry pancakes and the soft boiled egg also can I get a-“

I felt my mom slap my thigh . There was it. She stayed silent but her eyes spoke for her : “Slow down Mina for God’s sake ! What will they think of you ? “ I could read it all in the way her eyes widened at me, more as a threat than in shock. I chuckled darkly and gave her my most hypocritical smile .

“Can I order a drink, mother?Or do I need your permission? ” And with that, I completely ruined the mood. A very painful silence filled the room and I realized too late that I might have been a little aggressive... I looked down and frowned at myself in guilt .

“She’ll have a strawberry lemonade, don’t make it too sweet though. Lots of ice. “ I looked up as I heard Yixing order the drink for me . I couldn’t hold my smile back and though my eyes might have a little sadness in them . He winked back at me and mouthed a simple “I got you”. This was enough for me to feel comforted. But then I realized what had just happened. He ordered my favorite drink for me. So he remembered. After all those years, he didn’t forget. I bit the inside of my cheek so stop myself from grinning.

As the food arrived, the atmosphere lightened up a little bit . Everyone was enjoying themselves and thanks to my dad and his wonderful sense of humor, the air was quickly full of laughter. But I knew it wouldn’t last long .

“So , Mina , what do you think of Yixing? Do you think he would make a great husband? You know, he might be my son , but I’m not bias ! Tell me honestly, my dear !”

“Dad... Please , just don’t “ Yixing’s ears soon turned red and he was avoiding my gaze. Honestly, seeing him lose control was kind of funny.

“You don’t have to to answer that Mina, don’t feel pressured.”

“No , it’s fine , I’ll answer! Well, uncle , If I’m really honest with you , I feel like Yixing could be a really good husband. He seems very responsible and I know he’s very respectful, so there’s no way he’ll be a bad husband.” I was actually really proud of myself for not giving an answer that wasn’t giving out the fact that I have been crushing on the man since my middle school years. But Yixing seemed surprised . Like he wasn’t expecting this coming from me .

“You really think that,Babyface? “ I did nothing but nod my head fervently .

“What about you Yixing? What do you think of Mina ? You’ve seen her grow up after all ! Did she change a lot ? “ My mom urged on him . God, she can be so intrusive sometimes...

“Well, she did grow a lot , but I hope she still is the Mina I know inside, because I would change that for nothing in the world.”

My eyes widened at that . Damn . I wasn’t expecting this situation to take such a turn ! He gave me the cutest smile and went back to his drink .

“Okay, I think we have a deal then , if everyone is happy with each other ! “ Yixing’s mom said ,clapping her hands .

“Uh, I have one request though...” I found the courage to utter . I had to ask for it now , otherwise it was gonna be too late . “I would like Yixing and I to spend some time together, to...you know... get to know each other more deeply ... I thought it was a good idea to... um... to go on a couple of dates before the actual wedding, to get ... more ... comfortable? With each other ?... I don’t know, maybe that’s not a good idea, I was just proposi-

“No, that’s actually a really great idea, Mina ! I would love to take you on a couple dates, before we actually get married! Um...With your parents’ permission, of course . “

My dad’s laugh echoed in my ears and all of a sudden , my heart felt lighter .

“Son, you have my blessing ! “

Yixing just smiled at my dad , then at me . And I felt proud that I stood up for my ideas . After setting a date for the wedding, we were all ready to leave . The parents were walking on one side and Yixing and I were on another side . There were awkward smiles and giggles, but strangely enough, I didn’t feel like walking away from the situation.

“So, um... I’ll text you later today ? So we can set up a date for the first date ? I’ll have to go abroad for business next week so maybe we can see each other when I come back- He face palmed himself and shook his head . “No. I shouldn’t start things like this . Let’s see each other before I leave , yeah ? I’ll treat you dinner .

“Okay ! I’m down . How about after tomorrow? Sounds good to you ? “

“After tomorrow, So Friday? Yeah, sounds perfect!” I was watching his warm smile turn into a frown of embarrassment as he took his phone out of his pocket. “Um... I know this is gonna sound really cheesy, but can I get your number ? You know, to ... set up the date and everything... “ Seeing Yixing get so shy and scratch the back of his head as he was probably mentally cringing at himself was honestly a big boost to my self confidence.

“Uh... Well it’s... it’s still the same number, I... never changed my number ... But you probably don’t have it anymore, I mean why would you-“

“I still have it . My number is still the same too... so I hope you still have it .” He sounded so stern all of a sudden and I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not . The dark and strict look in his eyes caused the heat of my body to rush to my cheeks .

“O-okay then if we still have each other’s numbers , I guess I’ll wait for your text !” My throat was dry and I was desperately looking for something to escape the situation. I looked over at my parents to see them getting into the car. I looked back at Yixing smiling. “I guess I should go then ! “

He just nodded at me and opened his arms signaling me to come closer . He pulled me very close and lowered his face to whisper in my ear : “I honestly can’t wait for you to be my wife, Babyface.”

I felt really hot all of a sudden , and I pulled away from him, avoiding his gaze as much as possible. Yixing apparently noticed my embarrassment because he laughed loudly at my obviously flustered self.

“I’ll text you later alright ? “

“Ok !”

“Ok... Go Mina , your parents are waiting for you . “

“Yeah... “

And I left just like that . Too scared to turn back and see if he was actually looking at me , but secretly praying that he would ...

As we arrived home , I directly went into my room and crashed on my bed . So many things happened in just one morning. Recalling all the events that happened today, I suddenly felt hit by reality. So this was gonna be it . I’ll be somebody’s wife in a few months . New life, new home , new family and new responsibilities ... God , this all happened so fast ... How did I go from college kid to bride to be in a matter of weeks ? I sighed and rubbed my temples. All this thinking got me a headache. I decided to take a small nap to make the pain go away...

-1hour later-

I was awakened by my phone buzzing like crazy. I groaned and tapped my bed a few times before my hand finally came in contact with my phone . I gasped and sat down properly on my bed when I read Yixing’s name on my phone .

[Yixing 2:03 pm]

“Hi again Babyface”

[Yixing 2:05 pm]

“Did you arrive home safe ? “

[Yixing 2:10 pm]

“I did too. Thanks for asking.”

[Yixing 2.15 pm]

“Anyways , I saw this very nice Italian restaurant we could go to on Friday! You know I’m not that fond of Italian food , but if I remember correctly, you love Italian food , soooo... yeah “

[Yixing 2:23 pm]

“Aren’t I the cutest for my little wife ?”

[Yixing 2:45 pm]

“Really ? Wow , you’re not even reading my texts...”

Fuck . I hit myself on the head a couple of times before urging to unlock my phone to answer him .

[Me 3:00 pm]

“OMG I’m so sorry Yixing, I fell asleep !”

[Me 3:03]

“Italian is perfect! I know you don’t really like Italian, so I really appreciate the gesture”

[Me 3:03 pm]

“You’re the cutest husband !!”

I was nervously tapping my nails on my screen, waiting for him to answer and hoping that he wasn’t too upset .

[Yixing 3:05 pm]

“You almost pissed me off ,Mina . I was starting to think you were avoiding me “

[Me 3:05 pm]

“Nooo!!! Why would I avoid you? Don’t be ridiculous! And did you just call me Mina ? Am I not Babyface anymore ? “

[Yixing 3:07 pm]

“You’re Mina when you upset me ... And by the way, you used to call something else than Yixing too, you know ? What happened to that ? “

I smirked at this. He was so composed in every situation, but he could be so childish sometimes...

[Me 3:09 pm]

“What are you talking about , Yixing ? What nickname did I give you?” I teased, knowing exactly what he wanted.

[Yixing 3:12 pm]

“You know what I’m talking about, come on , don’t tell me you forgot ! I’m dying to hear you say it ... If you don’t call me by my nickname, I won’t call you by yours , Mina...”

I winced as I read the message. I hated to hear him calling me by my name .

[Me 3:15 pm]

“Okay Xingie , I was just messing around with you ...”

[Yixing 3:22 pm]

“Good girl.”

A whole shiver went through my spine when I saw his last text . I quickly locked my phone and tossed it away somewhere on my bed. I nervously smiled to myself and squealed like a thirteen year old girl . Pride and embarrassment washed over me as I realized he called my his “Good girl” . There was nothing new , he had always called me that . But I never understood the double meaning of it when I was younger. But now that I was older and that my hormones got on the way , I couldn’t lie and say that I didn’t fantasize about Yixing calling me a “good girl” in more ... steamy situations. I bit my lip and shook my head . I was getting hot just at the thought of Yixing and I getting intimate... My phone buzzed one more time and I jumped on my bed to get it , hoping it would be a text from Yixing. It wasn’t.

[Marina Babe 4:25 pm]

“Babe ! Haven’t heard of you in a whole week!! What’s up ? Did you meet the guy ? Who is it ? Is he hot ? Don’t tell me he’s an old uncle please !!! Tell me everythiiiiiiing !!!”

I smiled at this and brought my phone to my heart. Words cannot describe how much I love this girl . I knew the idea of me marrying her cousin would make her lose her shit , cause we will have an actual excuse for always being in each other’s lives as we would be family for real now . I unlocked my phone to answer her.

[Me 4:28 pm]

“I’m marrying Yixing.”

Yes, I was marrying Yixing. And to be quite honest, I couldn’t wait to be his ...

[ariistocracies]

beep beep y’all it’s kay ( 20, est, she/her ) ur resident dumpster dweller popping in with one of my three hot mess of children ,, tony n jamie will be up soon depending on when i can get my shit together jdlks but heNYWAYS !! let me introduce u to this dumpster on fire known as danika ,, it will be in bulletpoints bc my attention span is v short and i’m at work. like this n i’ll shoot u message to plot or just yell at me in my dm’s hfbdjkf

ariana grande. cisfemale. she/her. — did you see { danika monroe }, i haven’t seen the { twenty-four } year old in a while! you know, they’re a { concept artist }, and have been living in jersey city for { two years }. some say they’re { peevish & judgmental }, but i think they’re { compassionate & gregarious }. regardless, i’m glad { dani } is here. 

STATISTICS: 

full name: danika blair monroe nicknames: dani or just danika hometown: edinburgh, scotland sexuality: pansexual gender: cisfemale birthday: june 12th, 1994 spoken languages: english, italian, & german hogwarts house: hufflepuff

BACKSTORY + PERSONALITY:

okie so danika was originally born and raised for the first 2 years of her life in the scottish countryside outside of edinburgh bc her mom and dad had a whirlwind romance when they were in their later years of university and got married following graduation bc they were already expecting danika

adanika’s mother moved to the small town where her husband was from ,, putting her aspirations of becoming an attorney on hold bc *vine vc* coUNTRY boYY i love youuu ow

so danika’s mom was p much holding down a reception job while her husband kinda just spent his time in bars when he wasn’t doing construction so their relationship fell apart p much after the honeymoon phase wore off .. so her mom had Enough and filed for divorce, won custody of danika and bounced back off to edinburgh to jump start her law career

so danika lived with her mom and grandparents and it was all v gucci !! given she was 2 so she didn’t have much of an opinion kjfdsjkfL ,, but growing up she absolutely loved living in edinburgh !! just enjoyed admiring the architecture and how it was a bustling tourist city and how genuinely happy everyone seemed ?? tbh she imagined she would live there for the rest of her life n not move bc her mom was there and it was all she knew

danika was always a v creative child growing up .. she loved reading and absolutely hated math and just did better in english class while always looking forward to art class ,, she loves to paint and draw but she’s slightly better drawing with pencils and such rather than paintbrushes

so ya girl stayed nearby for college bc she’s laME and would miss her mom too much skfjnk but she majored in art but also freelanced as an illustrator during that time,, she does commissions through her twitter account ( which she still does ) bc her specialty is character studies and landscapes  but also did designs for a local card company for extra coin ,, prefers drawing ppl and also has a moleskin notebook that she carries on her at all times in her purse and just chills in chapter one and sketches ppl

she self taught herself how to draw on the tablet her mom got her for christmas so she alternates between hand drawn and digital art ,, her specialty is superheroes and has too many drawings of tony stark bc she’s weak for him ,, that and harry potter SHE WILL DRAW MORE DESPITE THE ABUNDANCE SHE HAS

danika is a giant nerd despite the *~*cool*~* exterior she puts up ,, lit she’s the biggest dumpster fire of all even tho she pretends to be a Cool Girl ,, lit her humor is basically lame jokes, vine references and pop culture references ,, but im sorry if her accent goes into overdrive when she’s talking about smth she’s passionate about bc it can be A Lot ,. casually it’s still present but she can pull it back to help ppl understand

she goes through weird spurs of random confidence where she’ll talk to new people and sign up for tinder but mainly does it when she needs a self confidence boost ,, but she’s a Chicken and the idea of going on dates scares the shit out of her mainly bc she hasn’t had a proper relationship ??

now that i think about it she’s had a brief relationship that lasted a few weeks but ended when danika felt like she was only being kept around for sex and that was not something she was ready to go through with since it meant more to her than him ,, just too worried and caught up in her anxiety to really put herself out there but one day hopes to be That Hoe if she builds up the confidence

probably has small crushes on everyone bc she loves 2 appreciate the good in everyone so she has issues deciphering when she really Likes someone ,, but even if she did truly like someone she avoids confrontation and responsibilities so she’ll just wither away without ever saying something

she made the move to jersey a little bit after graduating from university bc she got a job interview at a big name game developing studio in nyc and she was like lmao #yikes but her mom convinced her to buy a plane ticket and go and lo and behold !! she went and nailed the interview and got the job so she tearfully made the Official move to the states as a concept artist for the games being worked on in the studio

decided not to live in nyc bc hA that shit is expensive so she decided jersey city would be a decent commute so she got an apartment so hmu !!! if u need a roommate !! bc she def needs one

adores her british longhorn kitten that is snow white and bc she’s a nerd she named him draco but she loves him with all her heart and shows pictures to anyone who’s willing to listen to her love declarations

recently dyed her hair blonde bc she figured a change in her appearance would help for a change in how she presents herself and acts ,, trying to be more social and definitely a bit of the Mom Friend

listens to africa by toto unironically and truly loves it ,, and considers a gr8 night ordering in dominos and watching john mulaney comedy specials on netflix bc i hate hER .. so she’s branching out more and spreading her wings !!

#jrsy.intro #this is one long ramble #i am v sorry but also njskjsd my b pls luv me #and my garbage girl

[mysterykidscasefiles]

Mystery Kids: Winter in Blithe Hollow

Hey guys, remember like a year ago when I promised a winter holiday fic? Well, part 1 is finally complete. I’m thinking this is going to be a short 3-part fic. I’m hoping to get the rest of it out before too long, and I will be soon releasing the next chapter of my main fic. 

This fic is based very heavily on my own experiences of visiting my cousins during winter break... which I just got back from doing, so that’s what gave me the inspiration to finally finish part 1. 

Summary: Norman’s parents let him invite some friends over to their house for the winter break, and Norman knows just who to invite. With the Mystery Kids in Massachusetts instead of Gravity Falls, they expect to enjoy a relaxing vacation together. However, there are some dangers that aren’t limited to a sleepy Oregon town.

List of fics

Ao3 link

Mystery Kids: Winter in Blithe Hollow

Time Period: Second Winter

Part 1: Seasons Greetings

The airport was a bustle of people moving from one area to the next; their eyes either straight ahead, fixated on nothing but their destination, or down at their phone as they tried to answer text messages telling their family or friends that they had landed while weaving haphazardly through the crowd.

Norman scanned the crowd in the baggage claim area as his father grumbled something under his breath next to him. The plane had been late and they had been waiting in the busy airport for nearly forty-five minutes. Norman wasn’t a fan of crowds and his father wasn’t a fan of waiting.

“Hey, Cuz!”

Norman blinked and his head turned in the direction of the voice. He smiled when he saw his cousin walking towards them followed by another familiar face.

“Oh good, there she is!” Norman heard his mother say.

Before Coraline could say anything else, Norman’s mother wrapped her in a large hug.

“Coraline, sweetie, it’s so good to see you!” his mother gushed.

“You too, Aunt Sandra,” came Coraline’s muffled reply into his mother’s shoulder.

“Your flight was late. What happened?” Norman’s dad asked as his mom released the girl.

“Good to see you too, Uncle Perry,” Coraline said teasingly while giving Norman a wink.

Norman’s dad blinked and then almost smirked in return. “Yeah, alright, good to see you. Well, let’s get your suitcase. Is this your little friend we’re taking with us?” he nodded to Wybie.

“Yep, this is my friend Wyborn,” Coraline said, punching Wybie’s arm.

Wybie winced and rubbed his arm. “It’s Wybie,” he corrected. “It’s nice to meet all of you. Thanks for letting me come along.”

“No problem, sweetie. The more the merrier, right Perry?” Norman’s mom asked while turning expectantly to her husband.

“Uhh, yeah, right,” Norman’s dad grumbled tiredly.

“Hey Norman,” Wybie greeted with a smile.

Norman smiled back, but was startled when Coraline threw her arm around his shoulder and pulled him to her side. “This is going to be the best winter break ever! I can’t believe you convinced your parents to do this, and that your parents were able to convince mine!”

Norman chucked. “Well, Courtney helped a bit.”

Hearing her name, Courtney looked up from her phone and blinked at the sight before her.

“Ugh, what the hell did you do to your hair, Coraline?” Courtney asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“Language, Courtney,” Norman’s father warned. He then looked over at Coraline. “She has a point, though. Did my sister actually let you dye your hair that color?”

Coraline rolled her eyes, and Norman got the feeling she was used to comments like this. She released Norman from her grip as she sighed. “Yes, Uncle Perry. And I like it. It makes me stand out.”

“Well, sometimes it’s best not to stand out,” Norman’s father countered.

“You had such pretty brown hair, Coraline,” Norman’s mother said. “I hope you’ll dye it back soon.”

Norman could see Coraline physically retrain herself from rolling her eyes a second time. “Not likely,” she said under her breath.

Norman smirked. He had never been very close with his cousin before they spent the first summer in Gravity Falls, but now that they were good friends and fellow Mystery Kids, family reunions were going to be a lot more interesting.

However, this was more than just a family reunion. When Courtney was his age, she was allowed to invite her friends for a week to their old cabin (with parental supervision, of course). However, because they sold the old cabin, Norman never got his own chance to do the same. That, and he never had any friends to invite over.

A few months ago, Courtney pointed this out and suggested that Norman be allowed to invite some friends over to their house for winter break. Norman knew she was trying to get him to invite some friends from school. Ever since they had gotten closer, Courtney had been trying to help him make new friends. However, Norman had a different idea. He had known it would be a long shot that any of the Mystery Kids could make it to Blithe Hollow during the school break, but it was worth a try.

“I can’t believe I have to come all the way back to the airport tomorrow to pick up the other kids,” Norman’s dad grumbled as he started the engine of the car once everyone had collected their suitcases and placed them in the back of the mini-van.

They had bought the used mini-van after the old Chrysler had broken down one too many times and Sandra refused to let Perry buy any more spare parts in an attempt to keep it alive for another two weeks before it would inevitably break down again. Besides, no matter how much they tried, they could never fully get the undead smell out of the seat cushion. Not even Courtney was interested in the old car, despite the fact that she constantly beg her parents for one on a daily basis. The new mini-van had two extra seats than their last car, plenty of space in the trunk, and no rotting flesh smell. All pluses.

“Now Perry, we are doing this for Norman,” his mom said as they pulled out of the airport parking lot. “He should have a chance to have his friends over for a few days just like Courtney did.”

“Yeah, but her friends weren’t from all over the country!” his dad said. “Norman, what time does their flight arrive?”

“Three-thirty,” Norman said.

His dad groaned in response.

“The twins?” Coraline ask, who was sitting in the seat next to him with Wybie on her other side.

Norman nodded. He could already feel the excitement bubbling up at the thought of being able to see everyone again. They had just finished their second summer together, and somehow, it had been even more crazy and unbelievable than the first.

However, even more overwhelming than the stuff they had seen and done together that summer, was how much Norman missed them during the school year. Whenever things got bad at school, he and Neil would talk wistfully about their time in Gravity Falls and what their friends might be doing now. He had felt similarly last year after their first summer together, but this year it had gotten even worse, and sometimes, Norman missed them so much it hurt. He missed being a Mystery Kid. He missed having a group of friend he could talk openly and honestly with. He missed not feeling like a freak, but an actual part of something important. He missed feeling like he belonged.  

He also… missed Dipper. Dipper was the one person in this world that really seemed to get him. Dipper understood his humor and weird interests. Dipper understood why he loved the paranormal but also shied away from kids his own age. Dipper just understood.

Coraline’s next words brought him back to their conversation.

“What about the psy-” Coraline cut herself off, glancing at the front of the car where Perry and Sandra sat. “About Lili and Raz?”

“They’re not sure if they’re going to make it,” Norman said. “They’re a little busy with… stuff. But if they finish early, they’re going to catch the next flight. They’ll take the bus to my house so we won’t have to pick them up.”

“So…” Wybie said just below a whisper. “Translation: They’re on a mission and if they finish it early they’re taking the jet here?”

Coraline smirked. “Thanks for spelling that out for us, Why-born.”

“Hey, I’m just clarifying,” Wybie defended in a low voice. “It’s hard enough to keep up with those two.”

“What are you three whispering about?” Courtney asked suspiciously from her seat in the middle of the car. “You’re, like, nine. You can’t possibly have any interesting secrets.”

“I’m almost fifteen,” Coraline corrected, “And we were just talking about how annoying your Facebook posts are. Seriously, do you really need to change your profile picture every two days?”

Courtney scowled. “Well, that’s what happens when you look good in every picture you take.”

“Yeah, if looking like you put your make-up on in the dark counts as looking good.”

Norman tuned them out as Coraline and Courtney slipped into their familiar bickering. They had never gotten along exactly, but they seemed to enjoy their fights a little too much to actually dislike each other.    

“Enough fighting you two,” Norman’s dad scolded in exasperation.

“So, do you like the summer camp too, Coraline?” Norman’s mother asked. “Norman asked us to send him there every summer. It must be a really good camp.”

“Yeah, it’s surprisingly… exciting,” Coraline said with a smirk. “And the other kids aren’t too bad either.”

“Well, I hope so, since we are letting a bunch of them into our house. It’s almost like we’re inviting the whole camp!” Norman’s father said bitterly.

Norman and Coraline glanced at each other. They hadn’t exactly told their parents that the camp they had been sending them to for the past two summers wasn’t a legitimate camp, and had, in fact, started out as a scam by Dipper and Mabel’s great uncle. If their parents found out how small and very illegal the camp was, there was no way they would allow them to go back.

The airport was normally only a thirty minute drive from Norman’s house, but because of the heavy snowfall earlier in the day, the icy roads had delayed their travel by an extra twenty. By the time they pulled into the Babcock driveway, everyone was hungry and eager to settle in for the night.

There wasn’t much on the television and the only reason why Perry had it on, besides just out of habit, was because he wanted a distraction from the hunger in his stomach as he waited for his wife to finished cooking dinner. He had suggested take-out since it was already getting late thanks to Coraline’s delayed flight, but his wife had been on a health kick for the past few weeks because of some hippy, health nut book she read and she quickly vetoed that suggestion.

Perry heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up from his position on the couch to see Coraline, Norman and their friend making their way down the staircase and into the living room. They had finished putting their suitcases away and were now talking amongst each other.

“Wow,” Coraline said as she looked around the house, placing a hand on her hip. “I haven’t been here in years, but the house looks the same.”

“I hope you kids are hungry,” Sandra said as she came out of the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

“Umm, Coraline?” Norman asked, his voice soft.

“Yeah?” Coraline looked over at Norman, but he was staring at an empty space next to him.

Norman didn’t answer at first. Instead, he was staring at the empty space as if he was listening to someone.

Perry knew what this meant and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He still never knew what he was supposed to do when his son talked to ghosts.

“Norman?” Coraline asked as her eyes fell onto the space he was looking at.

Coraline’s friend, Wybie, also stared at the spot Norman was looking at; his eyes moved back and forth between Norman and the empty air.

After a moment, Norman looked back at Coraline. “Umm, Grandma says that you’ve grown a lot since she last saw you… and that she likes your blue hair.”

Coraline’s eyes widened as her head whipped around to face the empty spot Norman had been looking at.

“Hi Grandma,” Coraline said with a small smile. “I miss you… and…” her voice caught slightly. “And being able to see you,” She ran a hand through her hair. “And thanks… I think you’re the only adult who likes my hair.”

Perry stared, his eyebrows climbing to the top of his head. Coraline hadn’t even hesitated. She hadn’t seemed confused or questioned Norman. Instead, she had followed Norman’s eye line and started talking to his deceased mother like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Norman chuckled. “She says she misses seeing you too, and that next time you and Aunt Mel and Uncle Charlie with you.”

“My parents are busy on a new catalog or they would have come,” Coraline explained. “Also, I’m not sure my mom would believe Norman about his gift.”

Norman paused for a moment before frowning. “Grandma!”

“What did she say?” Coraline asked.

Norman sighed. “She called Aunt Mel a wet blanket. She said Aunt Mel has always been too serious, even as a kid.”

Coraline laughed. “Yeah, that’s my mom alright. But…” she shrugged with a small smile. “Sometimes she can surprise you.”

Norman paused again, looking over at the spot where his grandmother must be.

“Oh, this is Wybie,” he said, glancing at the boy. “He’s Coraline’s best friend and he goes to camp with us. Sorry I didn’t introduce you. Wybie, this is our grandmother.”

“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” Wybie said with a smile, addressing the empty air as easily as Coraline had.

Shocked, Perry looked up at his wife in surprise. She was also watching the conversation from the doorway of the kitchen in stunned silence, her mouth falling open when Wybie addressed Norman’s Grandmother.

Norman glanced the empty space again before turning back to Wybie. “She asked if you have ever been in Massachusetts before.”

Wybie shook his head. “No, I haven’t. I’ve never even been out of Oregon before.”

There was another pause before Norman nodded. “Don’t worry, Grandma, Neil and me will show them around town when everyone arrives tomorrow.”

“Speaking of Neil,” Coraline said, “Is he at home?”

“Yeah, he is really excited to see everybody, but his parents wanted him to have dinner with them tonight. He’ll be over early tomorrow.”

“Well, why don’t you kids get cleaned up?” Sandra suggested suddenly. “I think my timer just went off and I’ll be dishing up soon.”

As the kids headed to the bathroom and Perry shared one more lasting confused look with his wife. Norman never seemed comfortable holding a conversation with the dead and the living at the same time, but around his cousin and that other boy, he acted like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And Coraline…

Perry had never told his sister’s family about his son’s ‘gift’, and he had been taken aback at how easily Coraline talked with her grandmother. On the other hand, Coraline had always been a bit of a weird kid, so maybe he shouldn’t have been that surprised. What surprised him the most, however, was how nonchalant that Wybie kid had been about the whole encounter. It made Perry wonder: What sort of things did they get up to at camp that made talking to ghosts seem so normal?

The airport baggage claim hadn’t changed much from the previous day as Norman and his mother walked through the sliding glass doors. They had left Norman’s dad at home to watch the other kids in order to stop him from complaining about the multiple visits to the airport.

Coraline, Wybie and Neil had wanted to come along with Norman and his mom to pick up the twins, but they all agreed it would be best if they stayed at the house just in case Raz and Lili showed up. None of them had heard anything from the Psychonauts, which wasn’t unusual, but it also meant no one had any idea if they were planning to show up or if they even remembered about the meet-up. 

“So, Norman,” his mom said as they checked the electronic board to make sure the flight was in on time. “You must be really excited to see all your friends again.”

“Yeah,” Norman agreed. “It’s nice that I don’t have to wait for the summer to see them. Thanks for convincing Dad to let them come.”

“No problem, sweetie. They seem like good friends. I like that Wybie kid already.”

Norman smiled. “They are good friends.”

“I noticed…” his mother hesitated. “I noticed he and Coraline didn’t seem surprised that you could talk to your grandmother last night.”

Norman glanced at his mother shyly. It was rare for her to talk about his gift. She never seemed as uncomfortable about it as his father was, but it was not something they often talked about. The only member of his family that openly mentioned it was Courtney, and although she had no problem admitting that she thought it was weird, she also didn’t shy away from the subject like his parents did. She treated it just like another weird thing that her brother did that she didn’t understand. He watched B-rated horror movies, read comic books, and oh yeah, he could talk to the dead.

“Yeah, they don’t really care about stuff like that. W-well, they do care,” Norman stumbled. “But they… they think it’s cool.”

Norman felt his mother’s hand on his shoulder. “I’m really happy for you, Norman. I’m glad your friends know how special you are.”

Norman felt his face grow warm as he avoided looking at his mother. Instead, his eyes scanned the baggage claim area.

“What are your friends’ names again?” His mother asked.

“Mabel and Dipper.”

“That’s right, I remember.” She paused thoughtfully. “Dipper is such a strange name,” she said to herself. She looked down at her son. “What do they look like?”

“They look pretty similar to each other with brown hair and brown eyes,” Norman said. “Mabel will be wearing a very colorful hand-knit sweater. You won’t be able to miss her.”

“How do you know what she’ll be wearing?”

Norman chuckled. “Just trust me on this.”

They searched the baggage claim area for ten minutes, but Norman saw no sign of the twins. He was starting to get worried when suddenly a pair of hands clasped themselves around his eyes.

“Guess who?” A female voice asked with a giggle.

Norman grinned but didn’t turn around.

“Hmm…” he pretended to hum thoughtfully. “Let’s see… wasn’t it: Her Majesty the Knitting Queen and Supreme Ruler of the Universe?”

“You remembered!” Mabel squealed as she lowered her hands.

Norman turned around and was greeted by the sight of a smiling girl wearing a colorful knitted sweater with a snowman on the front.  

“You kept saying that phrase over and over last year. How could anyone forget?”

Mabel threw her arms around his neck, causing him to stumble backwards. “I missed you Normy!”

Norman laughed as he hugged her back awkwardly. “I missed you guys too.”

“Okay Mabel, time to let go before he suffocates.”

Norman looked over Mabel’s shoulder to see a grinning Dipper. Dipper’s brown eyes bright with amusement, and on top of his head was a hat that belonged to Wendy. Norman blinked; he wasn’t used to seeing Dipper without his pine tree hat, but he knew that Dipper and Wendy switched back every summer.

Mabel let go of him and Norman tried to ignore the way his heart rate increased as Dipper greeted him with a hug as well. This seemed to be a common reaction he had to Dipper since last summer, and any attempts to push away the feeling had only made it worse.

“How are you doing, man?” Dipper asked with a wide smile.

“Great! I’m glad you guys were able to come.” Norman couldn’t stop smiling. It felt like summer all over again. Dipper, Mabel, Wybie, Coraline and Neil all in the same place together for winter break. Norman still couldn’t believe this was really happening. His mom took a step close to them. “Oh, this is my mom. Mom, this is Dipper and Mabel.”

“Hi kids!” she greeted. “It’s nice to finally meet both of you.”

“Hi Mrs. Babcock,” Mabel greeted. “It’s nice to meet you too! Thanks for talking with our parents and convincing them to let us come!”

“No problem, sweetie. I understand that they want to get to know the people they are sending their kids to live with for five days.”

“And thanks for letting us stay,” Dipper added. “This is going to be a lot of fun.” Dipper and Norman grinned at each other. Norman had so many things he wanted to talk about with the twins, especially Dipper. They chatted while they were apart, but with the business of the school year made it hard to talk as often as they liked. Norman had a bunch of movies he wanted to show Dipper and he had also just finished a book series that Dipper recommended and he wanted to talk with him about it.

They helped the twins carry their luggage to the car as Norman explained that everyone was here, except for Lili and Raz, whose arrival was uncertain.

“Yeah, I haven’t heard from Lili or Raz in a while,” Mabel said. “I’ve even been sending Lili a bunch of snapchats and she hasn’t responded.”

“Does she usually respond?” Dipper asked.

Mabel shook her head. “No… not normally. Except for this one time where she sent me a snapchat of that time she drew all over Raz’s face when he was asleep. That was hilarious!”

“I don’t think it’s likely that your other two friends will make it, Norman.” His mom cut in. “I haven’t even heard from their parents. Most people don’t like to send their kids to live with strangers without at least talking with an adult first.”

Norman glanced at Dipper and Mabel, all of them thinking roughly the same thing: Most kids weren’t government agents with access to a jet either. However, they couldn’t say that to Norman’s mom.

Instead, Norman just shrugged. “That’s okay, Mom. I know how busy they get. I won’t be surprised if they can’t make it.”

Perry rubbed his temple. He had two kids, he knew kids could be loud, but somehow he had thought that Norman’s friends would be on the quiet side, just like him. Boy, he had been wrong.

From the moment the last two kids arrived, twins from California, the household seemed to have erupted into loud chaos. They had been polite enough; the female twin had introduced herself and her brother to him enthusiastically after she had gone around and given crushing hugs to all her friends. However, the house wasn’t very large, and Perry wasn’t used to having so many children around at once. Perry found it impossible to hear the television until all the kids had gone upstairs to put their suitcases away.

Perry had a difficult time imagining Norman with this many friends. He was certain his son never had more than one friend at a time throughout his entire life and most of those kids had been more acquaintances than friends. Perry supposed this was a good thing that his son was making friends… living friends, that is. His wife and daughter seemed to think so. It was just strange for Perry because he had a hard time imagining his quiet son bonding with so many kids at once, especially someone as loud energetic as the female twin… Maple, or something like that.

The doorbell rang and Perry groaned. He stood up from the couch and made his way to the front door. It was probably a package that his daughter ordered or someone trying to sell him something.

When Perry opened the door, he found himself staring down at an unusual sight before him.

Standing on his front porch were two kids, a boy and a girl who both looked slightly younger than his son. The boy wore an old bomber jacket, which had been patched up multiple times, a thick sweater underneath the jacket, and a strange cap with goggles on top of his head. He was smiling warmly, but with an air of confidence that most kids didn’t possess. The girl next to him was frowning darkly. She was wearing a pink and black winter coat and back pants. The make-up around her eyes was darker than it had any right to be on a child so young. The word “goth” popped into Perry’s head; a word that he had learned from his daughter, but somehow he found that word didn’t seem to completely suit the girl in front of him.

“Hello, you must be Mr. Babcock,” the boy said with a surprising amount of charm. It was then that Perry noticed the two small duffle bags next to the kids. “I’m Raz and this is Lili. We’re friends of Norman. I hope we didn’t arrive too late. We ended up missing our bus here.”

Perry just continued to stare for a moment longer. His stomach twisted in the same way it did when Norman talked to ghosts. There was something… off about these kids.

An irrational part of Perry just wanted to close the door. Instead, he turned his head and shouted loud enough for his son to hear him from the second floor.

“Norman, two more of your friends are here!”

What followed this announcement was an ear-piercing squeal of, “They’re here!” that could have only come from the female twin. He could hear the sound of loud footsteps on the stairs and something colorful darted past him and threw its arms around the two kids standing in the doorway.

The two new kids stumbled backwards only one step as the female twin crashed into him. They seemed to have been prepared for the sudden assault and they weren’t knocked completely off balance.

“You’re here, you’re here, you’re here!” the girl shouted as she hugged them both at the same time.

The girl, Lili, looked annoyed at the sudden contact, where the boy, Raz, just laughed and hugged her back.

“Wow, you two actually made it,” Coraline said in amazement and Perry turned to see that the other kids had made their way downstairs as well.

Raz and Lili managed to pull the girl off of them, but she continued to stand next to them, bouncing on the balls of her feet excitedly.

“Yeah, sorry we didn’t get a chance to contact you guys,” Raz said. “We didn’t think we would be able to make it but then our thing ended… early.”

Lili scowl deepened. “Yeah, too early.”

Perry wasn’t sure what to make of this conversation. What sort of a thing could two kids be doing that would end early and allow for them to travel who-knows how far and visit their friend at the last minute?

“Well, I’m glad you guys were able to make it,” Norman said hesitantly and his eyebrows creased worriedly. “But is everything… okay? You guys don’t have to be here if you have stuff you have to do.”

Raz just grinned and waved his hand leisurely. “Don’t worry about it, everything will be fine. There is nothing we can do at the moment and we need a break. Right, Lils?” He placed an arm around her shoulders.

To Perry’s surprise, the girl’s stormy expression seemed to clear considerably at the boy’s touch. She looked up at the other kids and let out a frustrated sigh. “As much as I hate to say it, Raz is right. There is nothing we can do for now and a break wouldn’t hurt.”

Perry frowned in confusion at the vague answers and complete lack of a proper explanation. According to his wife, they hadn’t heard anything from these kids’ parents and then they just showed up out of nowhere? It was odd to say the least.

“Well, come on in already,” Perry said, tired of not understanding the conversation, but unwilling to just stand around in confusion. “You’re letting all the warm air out.”

Raz and Lili grabbed their bags, which Perry noticed were the smallest bags compared to the rest of the other kids’ luggage. They were obviously both used to traveling light. Once everyone was inside, Perry closed the door.

“Do you guys know what this means?” Neil exclaimed in excitement. “We actually did it! We’re officially all here! The MK are back together for a third time!”

The MK? What does that mean? Perry thought to himself absentmindedly as he locked the door.

“It’s just a team name we gave ourselves our first summer at camp,” the boy, Raz, explained to him with a smile.

Perry blinked down at the boy. Had he asked the question out loud? He hadn’t thought he did, but maybe it had slipped out without him noticing, or maybe Raz had just wanted to explain it to him. Either way, Perry felt strangely unnerved by the whole situation.

His wife, who had heard the commotion, had come down stairs to greet the new kids and instructed them on where to put their suitcases.

Perry watched the kids go, his mind thinking back to a conversation he had with his son over a year ago.

When Perry first sent Norman to the summer camp, he had told his son not to tell the other kids about his ‘gift’. Perry knew that just like at school, the other kids at camp would think Norman was weird or lying about his powers. He had just wanted to protect his son and help him make friends.

However, Wybie and Coraline had known about his ‘gift’, and he wondered if the other kids knew about Norman’s powers as well. Perry’s first instinct was Norman wouldn’t have this many friends if they knew about his ‘gift’, and therefore, they didn’t know. 

However, there was something about these kids and the comfortable way Norman seemed to interact with them that made Perry doubt himself. Sure, most normal kids would have avoided Norman when they learned about his gift, but Perry had a feeling that these kids… especially the two that had just arrived, were anything but normal.

Okay I hope you guys liked part 1. Let me know what you think! And the next chapter of my Whispering Rock fic and part 2 of this fic should be out very soon!

#mystery kids #Mystery Kids Case Files #gravity falls #paranorman #coraline #psychonauts

[roslinadama-sinequanon]

Major Crimes Re-Watch-Final Cut

The Crime-A woman is found dead in a pool-not drowned, stabbed to death. Needless to say, Provenza jumps right in with his “the husband did it”. This time the husband turns out to be a bigwig movie director—and extremely unsympathetic. The fact that this guy was hardly broken up about his wife’s death, didn’t remember that she was pregnant, had affairs and asked his current lover to cover for him during the time of the murder makes it initially look like Provenza was right. 

“Great, that’s your reward for making history.” 

Provenza is the last of his academy class still left on the job. Rather than being happy he won the pot he is feeling a bit old and depressed—feelings which are probably even stronger because he lost what he thought was his chance to run Major Crimes. For once Andy doesn’t seem to be ribbing him here, he seems simply happy for him. 

“Dr. Morales, this is Deputy DA Emma Rios, who may be confused.” 

Quite an entrance for the new character, Emma Rios. Enjoyed the subtle humor ---Sharon and Morales’s exasperation with her childish whining and Julio’s immediate interest in her. Love Sharon’s WTF look when Rios comes storming into the morgue freaking out at the sight of a dead body. Um…what did you think you’d see in the morgue, Emma? 

“The mask won’t help; it just collects the smell in one place.” 

Julio is instantly smitten and Sharon is rolling her eyes at Emma’s continuing complaints and the way Julio is babying her. LOL over the way Sharon shoves the reports at Julio to get his attention back and the way Morales tries to gross Emma out even more. 

“Unless she was drunk.”

“No, she was pregnant.” 

Oh, Sharon, honey, you’re such a good Mama. You just know that Sharon Raydor never even had a sip of win when she was pregnant with Emily and Ricky and interestingly enough she assumes all women would be so conscientious when pregnant.

“Is she the new, uh…”

“Deputy DA, that’s her.”

“What’s she like?”

“Lt. Provenza and I will both be with you.”

“Oh man, that bad.” 

I wonder if Sharon had planned for Provenza to be there all along or if she asked him after meeting Rios. I also wondered why she chose Provenza over Andy since in Season 1 Andy seemed to have more to do with helping Rusty, than Provenza. I came up with two reasons. One, this is not personal as the other matters were with his mother and biological father, this has to with the case against Stroh and Provenza is the Senior Lt. thus Sharon’s second in command. Two, she probably knew that Andy would never have been able to be as dispassionate as Provenza and there was a good chance he would have completely lost his cool with Rios, which wouldn’t have helped Rusty. I could totally see Andy getting in Emma's face and telling her to f***off when she got heated with Rusty. Andy is as easily baitable as Rusty.  

“You were with a Mr. Douglas Grant standing in your underwear.” 

First of all, these guys give out their real names to their prostitutes?

Second, just the little tilt of Sharon’s head shows us that this is going to be extremely uncomfortable for her. It’s one thing to know Rusty had to prostitute himself, it’s another to have to hear the details. She is already more Mom than Captain with him. And, intellectually Sharon and Provenza know Emma has to be tough on him to prepare him, but watching it is difficult. 

“How you became a whorphan?”

“A what? A...A WHORPHAN”

“DDA Rios WE ARE GOING TO STOP!” 

This is one of my favorite scenes because we get to see the professional Sharon Raydor warring with the personal. She interrupts Emma’s interrogation a couple times when Emma asks uncomfortable questions of Rusty and then just totally loses it when she calls Rusty as whorphan and Rusty starts to come unraveled. We rarely see Sharon lose her cool so that’s why it is a favorite of mine.  I often wish the writers would give Sharon a little more range when it comes to emotions instead of making her so perfect all the time. I get that she is more reserved, but you cannot tell me there aren’t times when she is bitter or furious or that she really lets goes and cries rather than just tearing up. It’s like Duff has her on some Madonna pedestal where she has to be perfect all the time, she never has a bad day, she’s never sick, never complains, never puts a foot wrong.  While I think he went overboard with Brenda, I’d like to see a little more “real” Sharon rather than always-perfect Sharon. 

“Rusty has a right to have his guardian present.”

“Wait, my client LIVES with you!” 

LOL Oh, Emma time to get up to speed. Emma does have a point here. How many jurors would believe that Sharon hasn’t discussed the case with Rusty and as she said, the fact that Sharon is clothing him, feeding him, putting a roof over his head, paying for his expensive private Catholic school and giving him access to her car could be misconstrued as bribery. But it is the way Emma says it and comes across that is so oft putting. She is, quite frankly, obnoxious. 

“That boy was selling himself on the street to survive, which puts him at special risk---“

“Don’t talk to---“

“DON’T... interrupt me. It puts him at special risk for suicide. 

Darth Raydor at her best.  Sharon quickly puts Rios in her place. Also, I hadn’t even thought about suicide, but leave it to Sharon to know this and to be concerned. Rusty couldn’t have been placed with a better, more caring or informed guardian. 

“If he stops cooperating with us I will put him back with DCYS, find him another foster home…And you should tell him that.” 

What is it with Taylor and all his threats? He really is a bully at heart. His way of leading is through threats and pushing his weight around and he refuses to listen to anyone. Sharon knows Rusty better than anyone and she knows this would be a HUGE mistake.  In this scene Taylor also asks Sharon if she can handle being both Rusty’s foster mom and a police captain and she says she can because in both roles she supposed to protect him, but it is pretty obvious by now that Sharon is really struggling with being objective when it comes to Rusty and the Stroh case. This is no longer simply professional, it’s personal. Taylor just threatened her family and we can see in that little leap of panic in her suspiciously shiny eyes that she is afraid of losing Rusty. 

“Not eating on the couch, standing in front of the couch and I have a plate under my hamburger.” 

Aww..And he didn’t even have to jump up off the couch and lie about it; he really was standing watching TV before Sharon came through the door. “Mom’s” lessons are taking hold. And this is the first time we’ve seen Sharon slip out of her high heels into a pair of uggs. 

“DDA Rios is turning out to be more complicated than I’d hoped.” 

Even here, Sharon is being very careful to remain neutral.  She has to try to convince Rusty to testify WITHOUT threatening him as Taylor had requested. 

“People will find out about me, they will.”

“And they will also find out that under very difficult circumstances and against your own best interests Rusty Beck was the kind of person who was brave enough to do the right thing.” 

This is one of my favorite scenes in the whole series. Rusty is hurting. He has finally allowed himself to begin to trust this life with Sharon, to let people in and now this is all being threatened; his world is crashing in on him. He is going to be humiliated; everyone in school will know he was a prostitute. Sharon hates seeing him in such pain over this and she is really trying hard to hold it together, her voice choked with emotion, eyes tearing. I just WISH the writers would give us some of this emotion when it comes to Sharon’s freaking love life. The closest we’ve come to emotion with her and Andy was the little catch in her throat when she realizes his blood clot is in his carotid artery—and of course, she was upset when he collapsed. However, why is it that the writers don’t have a problem giving her emotional mothership scenes (think also about the emotional scene when she lets Ricky have it about Rusty’s adoption) but can’t give her an emotional scene with her boyfriend/lover? Can they only write Sharon emotionally as a mother because they don’t really know who she is as a woman and a lover? 

“Trial? Who wants to go to trial? I want to put the killer behind bars for life…today.” 

For the first time she and Taylor are on the same side. 

“One of the nice things about me DDA Rios is that when I’m really unhappy about something, people never have to ask. “ 

One of my favorite lines in the whole series. Love Taylor’s look of “Whoa, the lady’s got claws.” 

“Why are you walking like a clown?”

Andy really does look ridiculous—if he saw someone walking around like that, he’d think that person was an idiot. It’s hard to mesh the tough, sexy Andy on TC with this kind of buffoonish Andy. 

“I’ll talk about the Griffith Park stuff if Sharon isn’t there. I can’t go over it again in front of her.”

“What’s the other condition?”

“I don’t want you there either.”

“Why?” 

What a difference from season 1 Rusty who made all kinds of sarcastic comments about his past “Of course I’m comfortable in backseats, what do you think?” because he was trying to push everyone away and keep them at arm’s length. Now he wants to forget it, hide it, because he wants these people to like him.  He’s so afraid he is going to lose Sharon’s love and Provenza’s friendship if they really knew everything he’s done. It also shows that he sees Sharon as more of a mom than a police captain now. A year ago, he would have had no problem talking about what he had done in front of her, but now what teenager wants to talk about their sexual acts in front of their mother? 

“He still shouldn’t be living with you.”

“Get over it.” 

Great way to end the episode. Sharon in protective mama bear mode is a force to be reckoned with. And like with bringing Daniel Dunn into the picture, Emma Rios is a threat to the Raydor/Beck family, which brings tension, makes them closer and has the viewers rooting for them to thwart the evil Emma. 

I really liked this episode. It was a great way to start a season in which Rusty really does become Sharon’s son. Also with some of the humor we can see that Sharon has more ease and is more comfortable with the team. Lots of great emotion and angst with the mothership. The only thing missing IMO is NOT ENOUGH ANDY. Season 2 also seems to be where we see the shift in the dynamic to the co-parenting of Rusty to include more Provenza than Flynn.

#sharon raydor #Major Crimes #andy flynn