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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

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hiii

I would love if you could write something like this:

Steve went to the past after putting back the stones bc he wanted to stay with Peggy…so he did, but after 5 hours with her he realised that Peggy is not the love of his life but it’s actually reader.

Like they were engaged and had been together for long long time (since 2012 idk) and reader was gonna tell him she was pregnant after he came back from putting the stone…

But bc of time travelling 5 hours in the past are 5 years for the rest (like reader, Bucky Sam etc.) which means that Steve has been gone for 5 years, so when he comes back he is shocked and confused but then he finds readers house (which is similar to Tony’s and pepper yk cute in the woods near a lake bla bla bla) and he rings the bell and she opens and is whole like tf???

And then her their son come up behind her and ist like “mommy who’s this?”

Also Bucky and Sam and all the others have helped her with the baby and now son.

Idk you can decide if she if a single mom or if she is with in a relationship with Bucky or if she is with someone else yk

I love you and your fics!!!

Besos 💕

hi honey! I hope you like this and thank you, I love you too!

summary - steve left you for peggy, only to realise five hours in that she was no longer the woman he loved. when he came back, five years had passed. will you ever forgive him for the sake of your son? or is your future with him no more?

warning - angst, so much angst, swearing.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

Five years ago today, you had watched the love of your life disappear to the past and not return. You had suspected something was going to go wrong that day, and it was also the day you had found out you were pregnant. You could remember when Steve had first gone to the past, and when he came back… He was… Distant. He couldn’t even look at you, wouldn’t hug or kiss you, and those days were the hardest. You had felt so alone and unloved.

Right now, you’re decorating a bunch of biscuits that have been cooling since they came out of the oven. You find yourself zoned out as you stare out the kitchen window and at the swing tied to a huge tree. You hadn’t thought of Steve for a very long time, sure. There were times that your son reminded you of him. Of course, he would. He was the spitting image of his father, just cuter and tinier.

“Mumma?” You blink, clearing your throat before you turn and look down at your son. “Can I have a biscuit now?” You smile softly, cupping his cheek, your thumb stroking his face.

“Sure, baby. Which colour do you want?” He points to the sparkly green one, mentioning that it reminds him of Rex. The dinosaur he’s currently clutching. “Here you go, baby. But that’s the only one, okay? We don’t want to spoil your dinner.”

“Okay, mumma! Thank you!” He gives you a wide, toothless smile before stuffing the biscuit into his mouth and walking away, probably to continue watching his cartoons.

You sigh, sadly watching him walk away. You had been engaged to Steve and thought he was happy with you. You were ready to marry him, buy a house in the woods and have many kids, but he left you for her. He left, and you were alone to pick up the pieces. Sure, you could’ve gone to Bucky, Sam, or any of the remaining avengers. But they were all grieving themselves, so you packed up. You bought that house in the woods and ended up raising your child alone. You remember during your pregnancy, you didn’t want to live, but you didn’t want to do that to everyone else. When the team found out you were pregnant and trying to do it alone, they nagged you until you let them help.

You could remember clear as day when Bucky and Sam knocked on your door, bringing you food daily, staying up with you, and getting you your cravings. They were there when your son was born, and they were there to change his diaper and feed him whilst you slept. They were there, and yet, he wasn’t. Of course, he wasn’t. The man decided to be selfish when you needed him the most. What hurt most was the fact that he couldn’t be selfish with you. He had to be with another for that. You wish he had told you so that you could say goodbye.

You were so in your head that you didn’t hear the familiar rumble of a motorbike pull up. It just blended with old memories of Steve. The bell rang throughout the house, followed by some knocking. Your brows furrow as you wonder what asshole is ringing and knocking at your door. Couldn’t they decide which one? You put down the biscuit you were decorating, brushing your hands against your apron before you head over. Your hand wrapped tightly around the handle, and you swung it open.

“What the–” Your eyes widen when they connect with those beautiful blue ones you fell in love with. Your lips curl in a sneer, an angry expression crossing your face. “What do you want? Shouldn’t you be fucking some old whore right now?”

Steve winces, his eyes dragging up and down your body as he takes you in. He can feel his heart nearly beating out of his chest at the sight of you in front of him. “Listen… I know–”

“No, you listen. You piece of shit!” You whisper-yell, teeth clenched as you don’t want your son to hear. Your finger presses against Steve’s chest as you poke. “You left me. You left us. For someone who had already moved on, for someone who was in your past. You asked me to marry you, we had these plans for our future, and you threw them away for someone else.” You rapidly blink away the tears, not wanting to show him any sign of weakness. “You plunged your hand into my chest and ripped it out, taking it with you. You don’t get to come back here and think all is forgiven. It’s been five fucking years, Steven, five. Why’d you even come back, huh? You get sick of her already?” Your hands rest on your hips as you glare up at him.

He gulps, feeling tears fill his eyes as he realises the amount of pain you’ve gone through these past years. “I didn’t know it was going to be five years… I was only there for five hours, but I came back for you! I realised you are the one I love, the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He stops as your glare hardens.

“Steven Grant Rogers, are you telling me you had to leave without a goodbye, leave me for another woman for you to realise I was the one? Is that what your telling me right now?! You’re telling me the many years we spent together weren’t enough for you to know. But possibly sticking your dick in another made you realise?”

Steve’s mouth opens as he’s about to argue, but a much smaller voice cuts him off. “Mummy? Who’s this?” Your eyes fall down to your son’s, watching as he glares at Steve. Steve’s brows are furrowed as he takes in the child, noticing how similar he looks. His breath hitches as the pieces of the puzzle begin to connect.

He looks at you, tears now rolling down his face. “Is he…” You reluctantly nod, causing sobs to escape Steve. “Oh my god, I have a son? Why didn’t you tell me? I missed so much….”

You glare, “why didn’t I tell you? Why didn’t I tell you?!” You hear a small whimper and quickly look down at your son. “It’s okay, baby. Why don’t you go and watch more of your cartoons? Mummy will be there soon.” He nods, casting one last glance at Steve before wandering off, hesitating to leave his mum with a man who is obviously upsetting her. “I was going to tell you that day, Steve. But you decided that leaving for someone in the past was more important than staying with the people you had in the present.”

He takes a shaky breath, staring at you. “What can I do to make it up to you? What can I do to make us a family?” His fingers itch, wanting to reach out and touch you, but he knows you’d rip his limbs off if he did.

“There’s nothing you can do, Steve. I may let you see your son, but anything between us is over. I don’t want to be with someone I can’t trust, but the first sign of you becoming distant, I will ban all interaction with my son. Understood?” He nods, feeling his heartbreak at your decision, wondering if there’s someone else.

“I–Is there someone else?” Steve gulps, watching your jaw clench. “I wouldn’t blame you if you moved on… But.”

“But what? Do you really think you have a say in anything? You left me, Steve. Remember that, before you ask personal questions, you have no right to know.” You move back, and just as you are about to close the door. You look at him. “But, no. There’s no one else because you ruined that for me. So I hope she was worth it.” And with that, you close the door, sliding down it as you try and catch your breath. Your head goes into your hands, trying not to break down because you still have your son to think about.

“Mummy?” You quickly blink the tears away, lifting your head, your eyes meeting his bright blue ones. He comes closer and crawls into your lap, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into your neck. “I love you, mummy. Will always be here.”

And with those words, you break down. You have no idea of the man on the other side listening to everything, on the verge of his own tears. You only care about the sweet angel hugging you. You hold him tightly against you as you cry into his hair. “I love you too, baby boy. Mummy will always love you.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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hoedamn-eron · 10 months

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sports day

It's your daughter's sports day at school, and Jake decides to take part in the "dad race".

Warnings: Inaccurate depictions of DID (only knowledge from the show and some light research). Dad!Jake Lockley. Fluffy. Proofread. Edited on the phone app so apologies for any layout errors, I will fix when I have a computer. Word count: 1,791 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

This was loosely inspired by my partner's attempt at the dad race at our son's sports day.

When you told the system you were pregnant, it had thrown your worlds off balance.

You expected it, obviously, since you hadn’t actually planned to get pregnant, but as Steven had said, ‘these things happen, don’t they love?’

After talking it through with all of them and going through your options, you had decided that you were ready, that you were stable enough in your job and the bigger flat you’d all moved into that you could extend your family.

What you hadn’t expected was Marc and Jake to disappear from your life completely afterwards.

You understood, really, but it still hurt. Steven tried to be there for you as much as he could, being as enthusiastic enough for the four of you, but you couldn’t help but miss Marc and Jake. You didn’t feel whole without all of you together, experiencing the family you were about to make.

Things changed at your 20-week mark, where at your anomaly scan, about to find out the gender of your baby, you turn to look at Steven excitedly, only to find Marc staring at the screen, his eyes watery as he gripped your hand tightly. You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as you find out you were having a baby girl, and you looked over to see him silently crying as he stared at the screen. You didn’t interrupt him, letting him have his moment with his daughter.

It was on the way home from your appointment, where Marc was still staring at the ultrasound in his hands, where he apologised for disappearing.

“I didn’t know how to handle it…so I ran,” Marc muttered to you as you climbed into your car.

“It’s okay, Marc,” you whispered, afraid to be any louder in the comfort of your car.

He was already shaking your head at you. “No, it wasn’t. I got scared, it wasn’t in our plans – “

“Marc, it’s okay,” you say again, cupping his cheek with your hand, your thumb stroking at his cheek gently. “You’re here now, that’s what matters.”

You talk about it all night with him back at your flat, listening as Marc spilled his feelings and fears to you, barely able to look at you whilst doing so. You held his hands through his talking, grounding him and letting him get his feelings out to you. It was Marc that went to bed with you that night.

After that, Marc, and Steven both fronted as much as they could equally to help out with the pregnancy. You appreciated it really, but you ended up crying to Marc one night about Jake, who you hadn’t seen in months. He let you cry into his shoulder, spilling your own fears and how empty you feel, and how bad you feel because of that, because him and Steven have been wonderful, and you didn’t want to sound ungrateful.

“You’re not ungrateful, baby,” said Marc. “Jake’s just…Jake’s just dealing with it. He’ll come around.”

You were afraid you didn’t believe him, and you were sure Marc didn’t even believe himself either.

However, you were proven wrong a few months later. You were reaching the end of your pregnancy when you see Jake again. You walk into the kitchen, ready to get your daily craving of those vanilla biscuits (that Steven tries and fails to hide from everyone), and you find Jake staring intently at the ultrasound photos that Steven had lovingly stuck to the fridge.

You don’t say anything, trying to be as quiet as possible as you move around the kitchen, treating him like a skittish deer.

“Marc said it was a girl,” Jake said, almost sounding too loud in the quiet kitchen.

You hesitate before turning to look at him and answering. “Yeah. We’re struggling for a name.”

Jake was silent for a moment before answering, “I like Sienna.”

You felt your heart swell in your chest before nodding, tears in your eyes. “That’s a lovely name, Jake.”

You went into labour late one Winter evening. It was a long and tiring process, but you managed to get through it with the help of your boys; all three of them. Sienna Dalilah Spector was born with a set of lungs on her, weighing a chunky eight pounds and ten ounces, with all three of her fathers immediately wrapped around her finger.

And it hadn’t changed since in the five and a half years since.

So much so, that Jake was crazily cheering for Sienna as she ran in her egg and spoon race. She was coming second to last, which was fine, because she probably just wanted the sticker at the end of it, for participation. Her dark curly hair was up in the ponytail you’d placed it in that morning, albeit looking a little more flyaway than it had when she left to go to school with Jake.

“Well done, Sienna!” you called as she crossed the finishing line, already skipping over to her teacher to get her sticker.

“She’s getting more confident, huh?” Jake asked you, his eyes watching his daughter like a hawk, his overprotective habits evidently dying hard.

You nod, smiling as Sienna ran back to the starting line. She’d had a tough start to the year, moving up from nursery into Reception in a different school and not knowing anyone, and she’d had some behavioural issues at the beginning, but she settled in eventually, with some extra support from the school and you, and her dads. Now she had a small group of friends, who she would talk your ear off about whenever she got in from school, about what games they played, what lessons they learned, and what they got up to the night before when they weren’t at school. You were so proud of how far she’d come, as were Steven, Marc, and Jake.

After a few more races, the teachers announced a break for the children for a drink, before doing the parent’s racing.

You grinned at you look at Jake. “Gonna do it?”

Jake scoffed. “Obviously. Gotta make my princesa proud.”

Not a few seconds later, Jake’s legs were surrounded by an overexcited five-year-old. “Daddy! Are you gonna run?”

Jake laughed as he picked up Sienna, placing her on his forearm. “Yeah, I am.”

Sienna didn’t fully understand her fathers’ condition, she just knew that sometimes Jake was Marc, or Marc was Steven, or Steven was sometimes Jake, but sometimes he was also Marc. She didn’t have a favourite; she had a different relationship with each alter, and sometimes she liked having tea parties with Marc, but she also liked visiting the museums with Steven. Her favourite thing to do with Jake was to just drive around in the car and listen to music, singing at the top of their voices. You weren’t privy to their concerts; it was ‘their thing’ Jake had teased you.

“Are you going to get stickers like me?” Sienna asked, pointing to the collection she had on her too big PE shirt.

“I’m gonna try,” said Jake. “You gonna cheer for me? The loudest?”

Sienna nodded. “Yeah!”

“Gonna beat all the other dads?”

You give him a swat on the arm as Sienna cheered. “Yeah!”

“All right, I’ll try my best,” Jake said, before putting Sienna down at her teacher called the children back and asking for the fathers to make their way to the starting line. “I’ll see you later, princesa.”

Sienna, without another look at her parents, ran away to join her class at the starting line. You look at Jake. “Go easy on the other dads,” you said, grinning. “Not everyone here is super powered avatar for an Egyptian God.”

Jake snorted, giving you a light shove as you laughed at him. “I’ll try.”

He wasn’t going to try at all.

As Jake walked away, joining the other fathers at the starting line, you grab your phone, because you were absolutely not missing this moment (that you would definitely be showing to Marc and Steven later); Jake Lockley, the last to accept your pregnancy, who was scared shitless about becoming a dad, was willingly running a race for his daughter. You can see him grinning at Sienna before giving her a thumbs up before getting in place, preparing to run.

You giggle as you press record on your phone, filming Jake raring to go, that competitive look on his face, the one he gets when Marc is winding him up and dares him to do something (probably) stupid. You giggle, before cheering, “Go Jake!” before adding, “It’s for the kids!”

You see him subtly smirking, obviously hearing you, the underlining message of take it easy hanging in the air.

Sienna’s teacher clapped her hands to gain everyone’s attention, before calling, “On your marks…get set…GO!”

You immediately start cheering with the other parents as the dads run from the starting line. You’re surprised to actually find Jake holding back a bit, giving the other dads a chance. You giggle as you followed him with your phone, seeing that he was aiming for third place. You cheer and whoop along with the other parents, and just when the dads were approaching the finishing line, Jake sped up, making it look effortless, before crossing the finishing line in first place. You’d never seen the boys in action as Moon Knight (it was something they tried hard to hide from you), so seeing Jake running like it was no problem at all took your breath away.

You didn’t realise how fast they could actually run.

Trying to hide your shock at Jake’s speed, you roll your eyes as Jake spotted you, before you finish the video on Jake getting his first-place sticker on his chest. He looked for Sienna before pointing to his sticker, Sienna giving him a thumbs up. Jake practically sauntered over to you as you shook your head at him. “You’re a sore winner.”

“Baby,” said Jake, teasingly.

“Couldn’t even hold back at a kids event,” you say, mockingly. “Big macho man, just had to win the dad race.”

“Gotta show ‘em how it’s done,” Jake said, grinning. He was so proud of himself, and you knew he was doing it to annoy you.

“Burro,” you mutter to him, and he gasps in mock shock, his hand on his chest as if you wounded him.

“Nena,” he said. “You kiss our daughter with that mouth?”

You give him a light punch on the arm, chuckling as Sienna’s teacher calls for the mum race to start.

Jake raises his eyebrows at you with a grin but you’re already shaking your head. “No.”

“Why?” he asks. “I had to do it.”

“Because I won’t win,” you say, grinning.

Jake snorted a laugh. “Sore loser.”

• Burro - jackass • Nena - chick/general term of endearment

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #moon knight #jake x reader #dad!jake lockley #oscar isaac #mum!reader

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

Text

I Love Him (Chapter One -DRAFT)

***S-So um...I felt bad for not having any Obey Me content to give you guys tonight, and instead thought th-that maybe instead of nothing you would like a sneak peek at my novel that I have previously mentioned, I Love Him.

What I'm showing you is the current draft of the first chapter. I haven't really touched it in a few months but um...I-I hope you like it?)***

Chapter One

“Bullocks”

Arthur Howell glared at the closed sign hanging on the door in front of him. Up until this point, his grocery run had been fairly pleasant, but now he supposed he’d have to find another place to buy his baked goods until the owners reopened in February.

A fantastic start to 1958. Arthur thought bitterly to himself as he shivered in the cold winter air.

Arthur looked around for a solution to his dilemma, but all his eyes found were more of the grey, stoned streets of central London and its citizens. He sighed and ran a hand through his slicked blond hair in frustration when a subtle scent reached his nose.

Wisps of fragrant pastries and other confections danced in the air, standing out against the usual perfume of damp fog and pollution. In a split decision, Arthur quickly began to follow the scent.

It was only after five minutes of walking did a rose-shaped, white sign hanging off a two-story apartment come into his view. In a hand-painted, feminine font it read “Blooming Confections.”

A small bell went off above his head as he entered, and he nearly ran into a group of giggling schoolgirls, each with a freshly baked biscuit in hand. Arthur narrowed his eyebrows at them and then took in his surroundings; his eyes widened as he did.

The room was well lit and seemed to emanate a warm welcoming glow that bounced off its cream-coloured walls. A few people sat conversing peacefully; they all had gentle smiles on their faces as they enjoyed whichever treat they had ordered. The smell of delicate pastries and sweetbreads swirled in harmony with the scent of brewed coffee and the faintest traces of the herbs hanging to dry over the front counter. Arthur stood in awe. How had he never heard of this little slice of heaven before?

Arthur heard a door close. A man in a polo shirt and navy apron came out from the back to stand behind the cash register. He wiped flour-covered hands on a cloth before flicking it onto his shoulder and looking up. The cashier’s chestnut eyes met Arthur’s hazel ones.

“Welcome to Blooming Confections. How can we help you today?”

Arthur stared, and he stared, and he said nothing. A single spiral of brunette curls rested just off-center of the cashier’s forehead. The light from the window to their right created the illusion of a copper halo framing his head. The man quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head ever so slightly. Arthur cleared his throat and forced his attention to the chalkboard menu behind the cashier, as though he hadn’t decided his order yet.

Which was not true. Arthur needed two loaves of white bread and nothing more.

It had been a ritual of sorts ever since he had turned sixteen and gained the ability to travel on his own. Every second Friday, Arthur would wake up, be served breakfast by the family servants, and then ignore whatever tasks his father may have set upon him to go downtown and fetch some groceries; included in those groceries were always two loaves of white bread. However, that bit of information had been replaced with all kinds of thoughts about the cute cashier in front of him.

By God, this man was adorable.

“First time?” Arthur’s attention snapped back to the other man as his cheeks flushed at the man’s words. He must have misheard him. This stranger couldn’t be implying such a thing in public, could he? The cashier simply smiled at him patiently. “It can be overwhelming. I mean, there are seven kinds of bread and four of them look the same. How’s a bloke supposed to tell them apart?” The man turned to a display case to the left of him attached to the front counter, and Arthur’s shoulder slumped in a mix of relief and embarrassment at the clarification. “That is if you’re here for bread. Could I interest you in a white or brown loaf?” He gestured to where the two sat in the case, “Though you could always be looking for sweets. We’ve all kinds, so just take a look, see what you like and let me know when you’re ready.”

Arthur stuffed his hands in his pockets and stiffly nodded. He had officially decided that no, he would not be leaving with just two loaves of bread. That would mean that this experience would be over much too quickly. He didn’t even know the cashier’s name yet. “I’m afraid that I can’t quite make up my mind. Any recommendations, sir?” He tried to ask politely.

The man scoffed slightly. “No need to call me sir. I’m Charles. My mother, Rose Davies, and I run this bakery.” Charles’s chin rose slightly and stared at Arthur as though daring him to mock the statement. Arthur quirked an eyebrow at his defensive state.

In hopes of getting the man to ease up, Arthur offered him a smile. “Then I must compliment you on the fine establishment you run, Mr. Davies. I’m Arthur, by the way. Arthur Howell.”

Arthur could only watch as the baker’s eyes widened at the surname and he took note of the expensive suit that Arthur wore. Arthur had no doubt that Charles realized exactly who the man in front of him was; the Arthur Howell, son of Anita and Edmund Howell and, therefore, heir of Howell Corporation. The conglomerate business was hugely successful, though his father held the reputation of a cold shark who did what he pleased without regard towards others. As a result, those in the lower classes, his father’s victims more often than not, tended to hold disdain towards the Howell name.

The young Howell tensed and prepared himself to be insulted or shouted at, but found himself pleasantly surprised as the baker merely grinned at him. “Thank you, Mr. Howell. Now, what can I help you with?”

Arthur was shocked to find a ball of warmth growing within him at the stranger’s acceptance and distracted himself by kneeling in front of the display case. “Did you help bake these?”

Charles nodded, “I bake the first batch of everything in the morning before Mum takes over. I’d rather be in the kitchen all day, but she claims that it’s better for business if I’m at the front counter. Never quite understood what she meant by that.”

Arthur knew; she meant that her son was fit and that those school girls he had run into on the way in were probably here to get a peek at the cashier’s toned biceps more than anything else. Mrs. Rose Davies was a very smart woman.

Charles shook his head and looked back at Arthur, “But you had asked about recommendations, yes?” Arthur nodded as Charles leaned onto the top of the display case to see what was all there. “Well, I personally love the banana muffins. They’re not too sweet, but just enough to end any cravings. They were my favourite when I was a kid, but I haven’t tried any in a little bit. Ever since I started baking regularly, I’ve kind of formed a disdain for all sweets. I’ll have some from time to time, but otherwise-” He trailed off as he met Arthur’s stare and blushed. “Oh Lord, I’m rambling. Sorry.”

Arthur shrugged, “No worries. I’ll take one of the muffins as well as two loaves of white bread.” He chuckled at the man as he thought over what had been said. “A baker that doesn’t enjoy the things that he bakes?” Charles paused for a moment, as he carefully placed the food into paper bags, then nodded. Arthur laughed; a rich deep sound that seemed to draw Charles’s gaze. “You really are special, Mr. Davies, you know that?”

The baker frowned as he led Arthur to the register. “Not really. Sugar simply grows tiring when you’re around it all day. That’s all.” He punched the information into the machine and cranked the side handle until a ding was heard. “That’ll be twenty-six pence, please.”

Arthur gave him half a pound and held up a hand when Charles went to fetch the change. “Keep it. This is an amazing establishment you have here. Your service was excellent.”

Charles blinked at him as Arthur began to collect his bags. “Sir, that’s nearly double your total. I really can’t accept this much.”

Without taking the change Arthur began to walk away from the counter. “And yet, I insist.” He grinned playfully at the confused baker. “I’ll see you again, Mr. Davies.”

“Al-Alright then. Come again!” Charles called out almost unsure but could do nothing more as Arthur left the building much more satisfied than he had entered

****HOPE YOU ENJOYED OKAY BYE - B****

#my writing #I Love Him #Bumble B's Novel #I hope you like it #my gay sons #Oh god Im going to regret this #have at it #romance #soft fic #writing #draft #gay love #love #fluff

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just-a-poor-boy-queen · 3 years

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Part 33 of Jimercury Kid series

Jim couldn’t understand it. He was completely and utterly baffled.

He had spent the last few weeks watching what he ate, cutting back on higher calorie foods, restricting his sweets, sometimes skipping meals altogether and substituting them for tea or coffee. And yet, as he stood there in his bedroom in front of the mirror, hands struggling with the buttons of his trousers, it all seemed to be for naught.

He could barely fit into any of his clothes. His trousers wouldn’t button, his shirts strained against his chest and even his pyjamas seemed ready to tear at the seams the moment he put them on. He couldn’t understand it; he had tried, he really tried. Yet it seemed he had put on weight rather than lost it.

Freddie had got rid of the scales during his illness, as it depressed him too much to be reminded of how thin and frail he was becoming, so Jim was forced to rely on his own estimation. Given how nothing fit him anymore, it was clear that his current approach to losing weight wasn’t working.

He gave up fighting with the button and pulled the trousers off in frustration, tossing them across the room. He wrapped himself back up in his dressing gown, which seemed to be the only thing that he could breathe in and sat down on the bed in defeat. He couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander to darker thoughts; what if it kept getting worse? What if Freddie looked at him one day and was disgusted by what he saw? Someone as beautiful as Freddie deserved better. He would tell Jim to pack his bags and leave.

He knew he shouldn’t think of such things, but he couldn’t help himself. He had always been made to feel that he wasn’t good enough for Freddie and this only cemented the idea into his head.

And the worst part? His poor mood was making him crave a biscuit.

He groaned and flopped down onto the mattress.

‘I’m in big trouble.’

Phoebe couldn’t help but snigger with laughter as Freddie held up one of Jim’s shirts, which was now noticeably smaller than it had been before it went in the wash.

Recently, Freddie had become insistent on being more independent and enlisted Phoebe to show him how to use various items around the house, including the washing machine. In hindsight, Phoebe should have known that this impulsive venture was destined for disaster; of course, Freddie would insist on doing Jim’s washing to surprise him, and then whack the machine up to 60 degrees despite Phoebe’s warnings. And now Jim’s loosest T-shirt was more of a crop top if anything.

Freddie sighed and set the shirt down, folding it pointlessly. ‘On a scale on one to ten, how angry do you think Jim will be?’

‘For shrinking his entire wardrobe?’ Phoebe pretended to consider the question. ‘At least an eleven.’

This clearly wasn’t the right thing to say, as Freddie groaned and faceplanted onto the kitchen table.

‘Cheer up, you old tart.’ Phoebe grinned and gave the singer a nudge. ‘Jim can never stay cross with you for long. Just explain yourself and he’ll forgive you.’

‘I know he’ll forgive me – it’s the half an hour lecture I’m not looking forward to.’ The Persian grumbled and pushed his chair back. ‘Maybe I should take Khaleel up with me. He can’t shout at me if the baby is there.’

‘Using your child as a shield? That’s low even for you.’

‘Give over, Phoebe. You and Joe were happy enough to use Jim as a scapegoat when you were smuggling cats into the house, so don’t you lecture me about morals.’

Five minutes later, Freddie was warily ascending the staircase towards the master bedroom, a packet of custard creams in one hand and Khaleel scampering at his heels. He was mentally preparing himself for the severe scolding he would inevitably receive, but hopefully a few biscuits would sweeten Jim’s mood. Lord knows, the Irishman could use them; he had been eating so little recently, he was practically wasting away into nothing. (1/2)

‘Darling?’ Freddie called out softly as he pushed open the door, scanning the room until he located Jim lying flat out on the bed, staring at the ceiling. ‘Darling, we brought you something.’

‘Don’t come in.’ Jim replied groggily, not even looking up from where he was laying. ‘I’m hideous.’

Freddie chuckled, not picking up the sincerity in Jim’s tone as he stepped into the room, Khaleel immediately making a beeline for the bed. ‘Hey, that’s my line!’

‘We brought biscuits, Daddy.’ Khaleel said excitedly, bouncing onto the bed and sprawling on top of Jim, resting his chin on the man’s chest. ‘I’ve already had three, so Baba says the rest are for you.’

The mere mention of confectionary made Jim groan. ‘Please take them away. I’ll probably put on ten pounds just looking at them.’

‘What do you mean?’ Freddie asked, sitting himself down beside his husband and son. ‘I thought you liked custard creams.’

Jim gave a loud, heavy sigh, lifting a hand to gently pet Khaleel’s hair. ‘I’m fat.’

There was a brief pause as everyone took a moment to process those two words. Then Freddie chuckled loudly, only stopping when he realised Jim was serious.

‘You’re not fat, you silly fool!’ Freddie exclaimed, looking scandalised. ‘If anything, you could stand to eat more. There’s nothing of you these days!’

‘Oh, come on Freddie.’ Jim couldn’t help but snap, though he quickly lowered his voice when he realised that he had startled Khaleel. Their son hated it when they argued, and he quickly pressed a kiss against the little boy’s nose to reassure him. ‘I know for a fact that I’ve put on weight. I don’t fit into any of my clothes anymore. If that’s not proof, I don’t know what is.’

Freddie felt his cheeks begin to burn and he carefully placed the packet of custard creams out of Jim’s reach, in case the Irishman decided to use them as a weapon. ‘Ah…that might be my fault.’

Jim sat up, sitting Khaleel on his lap as he stared at Freddie in confusion. ‘How is it your fault?’

‘Well, I asked Phoebe to show me how to use some of the appliances around the house.’ Replied Freddie, playing with his fingers awkwardly. ‘And I wanted to surprise you by doing your laundry. But I might have turned the temperature up a little too high.’

Jim’s eyes went wide. ‘You shrunk my clothes?!’

‘In my defence, Phoebe is partially at fault for listening to me when I told him I knew what I was doing.’ Freddie dropped his gaze to his lap, peering up at Jim through his eyelashes. ‘I’m really sorry, darling.’

But Jim just started to laugh, though it sounded like he was on the verge of crying as well. ‘Jesus Christ, Freddie. You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. I thought I was going to end up needing a forklift to get downstairs.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with your weight.’ Freddie said gently, leaning over and brushing a kiss against the man’s bearded cheek. ‘You’re perfect just the way you are, isn’t he, Kenny?’

‘I love Daddy’s tummy.’ Khaleel replied, giving Jim’s stomach a pat. ‘He’s like a big cuddly teddy bear!’

‘Exactly. He’s our teddy bear.’ Freddie kissed his husband again, rubbing his cheek against the man’s stubble. ‘So…are you cross with me?’

‘Of course I’m cross with you!’ Jim exclaimed, though he was cracking up as he spoke. ‘I have to invest in a whole new wardrobe now, thanks to your terrible laundry skills!’

‘I’ll take you shopping tomorrow, I promise.’ Freddie pouted and thrust the packet of biscuits under Jim’s nose. ‘Now, stop telling me off and eat my peace offering.’ (2/2)

--------------------------------------------------

Awwww haha I loved this!

Firstly, I love how you've explored any body image issues that Jim may have had, and how that tied to his insecurities of not being good enough for Freddie.

And oof, baby Jimbo was adorable.

And the worst part? His poor mood was making him crave a biscuit.

Awwww I love my Irish teddy bear so much😂💙

Also, lmao Freddie being absolute shit at using a washing machine, Phoebe's amusement at his friend's antics, and Freddie eventually blaming Phoebe for putting too much faith into him made me crack up😂😂😂 He's such a character, our Freddie.

(More drabbles by writer anon)

(All the parts of this series can also be found under the tag #freddie and jim and their baby on this blog)

#ask response #jim hutton #freddie mercury #anon writing #freddie and jim and their baby

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accioromione · 4 years

Note

A desperate Ron having to deal with hermiones muggle cravings

‘IM APPROACHING IF YOU ARE NOT DECENT RONALD WEASLEY IS ENTERING THE POTTER HOUSEHOLD�� Harry heard Ron’s voice shout from the fireplace. Ginny was writing on her typewriter, and Harry was reading over some cases. Both of them looked up at the fireplace upon Ron’s voice.

Ginny rolled her eyes as Ron came emerging from the fireplace covering his eyes.

‘We’re not doing anything you git’ Ginny said before going back to type on her typewriter.

Harry looked at Ron, ‘er it’s great to see you?’ Said Harry, ‘but we’ve been at work all day together, you can’t have missed me that much.’

Ginny laughed but Ron uncovered his eyes to reveal that they were filled with fear.

‘What’s wrong?’ Harry said worriedly, Ginny looked up now concerned.

‘H-Hermione,’ Ron breathed and Harry’s heart sank, he and Ginny got up on their feet.

‘What’s happened?! The baby ?!!! It can’t be she’s only three months!’ Ginny said.

Ron shook his head looking at Harry he said, ‘ she’s having cravings and she asked me to go to tesco,’

Ginny sat down and rolled her eyes,

‘Of course’ she murmured annoyed, going back to type her piece for the daily prophet.

‘Er-okay?’ Harry asked, now confused.

‘I NEED YOU TO COME WITH ME!’ Ron begged and Harry stared at him.

‘Hasn’t she dragged you to tesco before? You know tesco...’ Harry reasoned but Ron shook his head.

‘Yeah with her! Never alone! And her cravings are weird! She’s never got what she’s asking for before! I went already I couldn’t find the Oreos I have no idea what Oreos are!’ Ron said, ‘Harry please she’ll kill me,’

Ginny laughed, ‘go on Harry I’ll check on James, if there’s anything I learned from pregnancy,’ she said rubbing her belly, ‘its that you can’t ignore the cravings- pick me up those chocolates while you’re there you know the ones I like,’ and Harry nodded knowing she was talking about the Cadbury bars, which were also Harry’s favourite. He had been the one to introduce them to Ginny.

‘Alright then,’ Harry said getting up and placing a kiss on Ginny’s cheek, ‘off we are then,’ Harry said and Ron smiled in relief. The both of them then dissaparated, arriving in front of the most nearby tesco. Ron followed Harry into the sweets aisle and picked up the Cadbury chocolate bars, he got three, two for Ginny and one for himself. He looked reaprochfully and got one more.

‘Okay let’s get the Oreos,’ said Harry to Ron walking towards the buiscuits.

‘What? They’re biscuits?! Who names a buiscuit an Oreo?’ Ron said now looking at boxes of buiscuits labelled “Oreos”

‘The people who invented them, go on then,’ Harry said gesturing to the oreos. But Ron looked at the boxes in horror.

‘There’s so many types what the hell is pumpkin flavoured, there’s birthday cake, vanilla what the hell Harry,’ Ron said, burying his head in his hands.

‘Did she tell you what kind she wanted?’ Harry asked

Ron shook his head, looking like he was going to pass out.

‘She probably wants the original,’ Harry said and Ron stared at Harry blankly.

‘This,’ Harry said, handing Ron the box of the normal chocolate Oreos, ‘is the original.’ Ron held it and blinked, ‘are you sure?’ Ron asked.

‘Positive,’ Harry said.

‘O-okay,’ Ron said, and he proceeded to take all the boxes of original Oreos off the shelf and put it into his basket.

‘Ron what are you doing’ Harry began and Ron looked at his cart and then at Harry and thumped his head.

‘You’re right! Just to be safe I better...’ and then he took one of each of the non original kind of press. His cart was now filled with Oreo boxes.

‘Ron I don’t think Hermione needs all of this,’ Harry said reasonably and Ron sighed and looked at Harry seriously.

‘She is eating for two now Harry.... who am I to limit the mother of my child... you know not everything is about figure and looks, you should know better Harry you have a son,’ Ron said wisely.

Harry looked at Ron amused, ‘it’s not about keeping a figure, hermiones eating for two not fourty.’

‘Listen Harry I appreciate you helping me and all but I’m not taking chances. What if she wants more? See now I don’t have to run to the store. Besides cravings are what the baby wants, if my daughter wants Oreos to grow I’m giving her a million oreos,’

Harry was both touched and amused by Ron’s words, but the weird looks they got at Ron’s cart of Oreos did not go unnoticed.

‘For the wife,’ Ron said consolingly to a lady staring at his cart. She gave him a weird look and left.

‘I can’t believe we live in such a judgemental society,’ Ron sighed to Harry. The each of them made their payments, Ron spent 97 euros on the Oreos.

‘Well,’ Ron said clapping Harry on the back, ‘thanks mate I really owe you one, tell Ginny I said bye as well,’

‘Tell Hermione I say hi,’ Harry said, ‘even though I’m seeing the both of you tomorrow,’

Ron laughed, ‘cant get rid of us Potter, you’re going to be the godfather for a reason,’

‘Our kids are cousins,’ Harry said happily.

‘Can’t wait to see all the shit they’ll get up to at Hogwarts,’ Ron said smiling and Harry laughed. The two of them bid farewell and Harry hoped that Hermione would take Ron’s over buying as a form of endearment rather than get offended. By any means, he’d find out the outcome tomorrow.

#romione

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hydrangeaho3 · 3 years

Text

Cardamom

summary: Philza teaches Tommy how to make tea.

a/n: my first fanfic so um it’s probably garbage but here ya go.

It was the heat that dragged Tommy out of bed. He tried to go back to sleep but his comforter was sweaty and gross, forcing Tommy to push it off of him. The eight-year-old didn’t normally wake up this early but the heat and the all-together disgusting state of his bed forced him to venture downstairs.

As he crept down the stairs, careful not to wake his brothers or Phil, he could feel his hand sticking to the banister. Tommy had wanted to eat a cookie first thing in the morning but before he was able to grab one and run back upstairs, he saw a figure humming at the stove.

Tommy tiptoed until he reached Phil before jumping onto his back. Phil startled, moving away from the stove and struggling to remove whatever was on his back before realising just who was hanging off of him like a little monkey.

“Good morning Tommy,” Phil murmured, trying to salvage the quiet peace of the morning knowing Tommy was going to be causing a commotion any second. “You’re up early aren’t you?”

To his surprise, Tommy only nodded as he slid off of Phil’s back and onto the floor. Instead of his usual energy, Tommy also seemed intent to keep the calm.

“You’re quiet today Tommy. You feeling okay down there?”

“’m just tired,” Tommy replied. “And hot” he tacked on a second later.

“I feel ya. This summer has been intense”

“What’re you doing?”. Some of Tommy’s energy returning to him.

Phil had been in the middle of taking out a pot and placing it on the stove.

“I’m making tea. You wanna help?” Phil asked. Tommy nodded once more from the floor.

“Do you know what the most important ingredient is in tea?” Tommy just looked up at him expectantly. Phil smiled as he ruffled the boy’s hair.

“It’s cardamom, it’s the most important ingredient in tea but people often forget it because they think it’s useless, but they’re wrong Tommy. They’re very wrong. It may be small but it packs a punch,” Phil explained as he turned the stove on. Tommy sat at his feet, listening to Phil’s words, his head leaning against the warmth of Phil’s legs.

It was early enough for the noises of outside traffic to be a fuzzy backdrop against Phil’s soft words. The morning light streamed through the windows of the kitchen, illuminating the quiet scene.

For as long as Tommy could remember, Phil’s had the same thing for breakfast every day; tea with biscuits. It was a habit he’d instilled into all of his three sons, even though they all preferred other breakfast foods. Habits like those were hard to break.

“Can you grab the milk from the fridge, Tommy?” Phil asked, craning his neck as he turned to make sure the young boy was following his instructions. Tommy did what was asked, struggling slightly to set the heavy carton on the counter.

“How many people do we need to make it for?” Phil asked, smiling slightly.

“4?” Tommy replied, unsure of himself. His eyes watched Phil walk around the kitchen, following as he grabbed other ingredients from their respective homes: the sugar and tea leaves from the pantry, some cardamom seeds from the drawer. The moment Phil pulled open the drawer, Tommy ran over.

Tommy was known for telling more than the occasional lie but he truly believed that the drawer Phil was opening held all the spices in the whole wide world and he wasn’t shy of telling that to strangers.

The reality wasn’t so different, inside was a round steel container filled with every flavor imaginable. The seeds Phil used to make the morning tea, the spices Wilbur had bought a couple of summers ago on his quest to become a better cook, the same ones Techno was so distrustful of.

It was a home for all the smells and tastes Tommy had come to associate with his life.

Tommy was brought back to the conversation by Phil’s quiet rumble as he tried not to wake the two kids sleeping upstairs.

“Yup, we’re four people. So that means you need four cups of milk and four cups of water, one cup for each person that wants tea. Then you do the same measurements for the tea leaves and sugar, one spoonful per person,” Phil explained, Tommy staring into the pot as the water began to simmer. When the water finally started to boil, in went the milk and a few minutes later, the sugar and leaves.

Tommy sat back down, craving the coolness from the tiles. The hot summer air drifted through the open window, inviting him to come play outside. It reminded him of afternoons spent with Tubbo playing pirates and chasing each other around.

“Now’s the most important part,” Phil pulled open the famed drawer and took out a small bottle. Sitting on the floor Tommy couldn’t tell what it was but as soon as the lid was squeezed off, the pungent smell of cardamom wafted through the air.

Phil handed Tommy the bottle and a small pewter bowl to crush them in. Tommy squeezed himself between the oven and pantry and got to work. The stone was cold to the touch and foreign in his hand. His grip was clumsy when he started, the seeds so small that they slipped and landed on the sides of the bowl without being crushed at all but he kept practicing.

A couple minutes had gone by before Tommy presented his creation: a small handful of crushed cardamom seeds. Phil took the bowl from him and poured it over the tea that was slowly forming, Tommy watching in wonderment.

“Now we stir,” Phil said, handing Tommy a spoon to use. Tommy cautiously leaned over the pot and dipped the spoon in. He began to methodically move his hand as he forgot about the blistering heat outside. Slowly but surely the tea began to come together as the familiar smell permeated the kitchen.

From their rooms, the muffled voices of Wilbur and Techno floated down the stairs.

“It’s done now Tommy, you can stop stirring,” Tommy removed the spoon and placed it in the sink a couple of feet away.

“What we need to do now is drain the tea and then serve it” Phil grabbed the pot by the steel handle, the heat seeping into his hand. He held it over the sink in one hand and in the other was a cup with a strainer placed over it. Slowly he began to pour, the tea filling the cup as the larger objects were caught in the strainer.

“Can you get me 3 more cups? They should be in the cupboard across from you” Phil asked.

Tommy nodded in response as he grabbed a stool and dragged it underneath the cabinet. He stared up at it for a moment before stepping onto the stool, opening the cupboard, and grabbing three cups similar to the one in Phil’s hand. He placed them next to the sink, waiting for them to be filled up.

Not before long, 4 steaming cups of tea had been placed on the dining room table while a plate of biscuits sat at the center. From upstairs, the noises of Techno and Wilbur were getting louder, a sure sign that they were going to be coming downstairs any minute.

Tommy took his seat at the table and grabbed a cup of tea before pulling the plate of biscuits towards himself. Behind him, unbeknownst to Tommy, Phil watched him, smiling slightly. It had been so long since he'd done something with Tommy, just the two of them. It was a nice change of pace.

Soon the sound of footsteps pounding against the older staircase filled the kitchen as Techno and Wilbur stepped into view. They both grabbed a cup of tea before resuming their conversation.

Tommy watched them, waiting with bated breath to see if his brothers liked it. To his surprise, both Techno and Wilbur seemed to have liked it even if they didn't find anything different about it.

The conversation resumed around him and suddenly the hot summer air didn't seem so bad. He couldn’t remember how long he had been sitting there but by the time he realised what was going around him, Wilbur and Techno had left and it was just him and Phil sitting at the table. The sun had risen and was almost out of sight through the windows.

Phil ruffled his hair “You did good Tommy.”

Tommy smiled. “Of course I did good Phil. You know I am the biggest man in this house.”

Phil smiled back.

Quiet settled over the kitchen again.

If Tommy continued to wake up earlier than normal for the rest of summer, it was nobody’s business but his and Phil’s.

#minecraft #tommyinnit #philza #wilbur #technoblade #sbi #sbi found family #fluff #oneshot #mcyt #mcytsbi #dream smp #sbi fanfic #fanfic #sleepy bois fanfic #sleepy bois au #philza minecraft #cooking #tea

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jaehyunspeachparty · 5 years

Text

Daddy Jaehyun

i.viii.

a/n: I just wanted to write a drabble, but somehow it has become sooo long. I hope you like the 3.6k story and for ideas and request you can always write me.

Daddy Jaehyun Masterlist

Jaehyun sat at the dining table with his daughter Miga and both drew something. You were quite restless this morning. Every food wasn’t good for you, but you were very hungry. You search the entire kitchen to find something edible for you.

"Babe, are you okay?" Jaehyun was also nervous about you running all over the kitchen.

"We have nothing to eat." You lean exhausted against the fridge. The little boy in your belly did not make it easy for you in the last few days. He was very wild, constantly kicking and you had the weirdest cravings. It was never so bad with Miga and slowly your new pregnancy developed very differently.

"The fridge is completely full, don’t you really find anything?" Jaehyun laughed and set aside the pencils in front of him.

"No! I mean there is something…but no…that’s stupid.“ You start to run nervously through the apartment again.

„Y/N, what do you want? I'll get you anything you want." Jaehyun got up and drove through Miga’s hair. She loved it when he did this random. She always pinched her eyes together and started to smile.

"Do you remember this little bakery in the place where we got engaged? They had wholegrain pretzels with caramel and, oh, and then this cocoa with the salted marshmallows. I would give everything to get this.“

"And what if we go there?" Jaehyun's face was the same, but you were not sure if he was serious.

"That's 3 hours away!“ It was a small sweet place by the sea. Jaehyun proposed to you there years ago. You spent three nights in a small hotel and it was one of the best memories you had. From time to time you were still driving to this place. But since Miga was born, you have not visited it. Sometimes you wonder if much has changed.

"I'm serious! Let's go there, we'll stay there for one night. I have a free weekend, we should use that. Miga will love it.“ You liked Jaehyun's idea. As long as you were able to move, a little trip wouldn’t be a bad idea.

"Okay, then I'll pack the things for us." You grinned and kissed Jaehyun.

The drive was pretty calm. Miga had her nap right in the car so you did not have to listen to children's songs for three hours. Jaehyun and you could reminisce about your first visit at this place. It were cozy hours in the car and when you saw the sea, your heart got warm. Miga was still sleeping all the time, but you could not wait to show her the beach.

The first place you visited was the bakery with the special pretzel and cocoa. It was right on the pier so you could sit outside. Miga was still sleepy, but when she got a plate full of biscuits, she was suddenly very quickly awake.

"Maybe we should not give her that much sugar." You stir in your daughter's cocoa so it can cool faster.

"Oh, today it's okay. We're on vacation." Jaehyun grinned and looked into the distance. It was so peaceful here, the sea air smells wonderful and the sun threw a unique light on the village. And you finally had your long-awaited pretzel with caramel. When you ate the first one, you could not stop it. It was exactly what you needed.

"I think we have to buy a few more." Jaehyun laughed and tasted a piece. But he quickly made a disgusted face.

"Well, I don’t really like that. I don’t understand how you can eat so many of them." He took a long sip of his water to rinse the taste off.

"Ask your son in here, he's responsible for my cravings." You lean back and start stroking your stomach. And again you feel how the little one wriggled in you and kicked his feet.

„Hey little boy, let your mother eat something decent." Jaehyun also touched your belly and at that moment your child is firmly kicking his hand. His eyes grew big and he could not believe it at first.

"Was that a kick?" He stayed in the same place with his hand because he was almost frozen.

"And what a one." You exhale deeply, because this was also a bit painful and you was slightly sick. But it was the first time Jaehyun could feel him from the outside.

"I think he enjoys our trip too." You smiled while your husband continued to scan your stomach.

"Miga, do you want feel it too?" Jaehyun lifted your little daughter onto his lap, but she immediately turned to her father's chest.

"No." She had another biscuit in her hand and she quickly bit off.

"But don’t you like to say hello to your little brother?" Jaehyun kept trying, but it didn’t help. She clutched her biscuit firmly and shook her head.

"What are we going to do with you?" Jaehyun sighs and strokes his daughter's hair. Miga felt very comfortable on her father's lap, so she buried herself more in his upper body and continued to eat her biscuits.

"She's getting used to it. I think she just can not imagine a little sibling, but I'm sure she'll be a great big sister." You smiled softly and took a big sip of your cocoa.

"How relaxed you are when you give in to your cravings." Jaehyun started to laugh and looked at the empty plate, where all the caramel pretzels once lay. You lean aside and hold your belly.

"Hmm maybe, but maybe it's all this too. The place, you, Miga and this little boy in here." You feel so much love and calm at that moment that you sometimes wonder if that is the paradise. Maybe that was just your heavily hormonal emotions. But you could not remember the last time you felt so much happiness.

After you had drunk the cocoa and Miga had proudly eaten all their biscuits, you went for a walk threw the small streets. You explore the little place here, that had hardly changed and visited a small playground. Miga could romp there and played with other children. She was good at finding friends, she took care of other kids, so you didn’t worry that she will not accept her little brother. You see how well she interacted with other children and how happy she is because of them. You were sure it would do her good if she got a sibling.

You really wanted to experience the sunset on the beach, so you walked back to the sea in the evening. Jaehyun bought cotton candy, which you shared with your daughter. And so you sit in a beach chair and watched how the setting sun reflected in the water.

"Stay that way, I'll take a picture of you two." Jaehyun pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened the camera. Miga sat on your lap and she starts to smile. Jaehyun took some pictures, but he didn’t sit back to you. He stares at his screen and you can see him trying to read everything.

"Is everything okay?" You looked at him worried, because you were afraid that they need something from him at work. You finally had a weekend for you, you did not want it to end up that way.

"I don’t think so, Taeyong called several times, I'll call back quickly and see if there's a problem." Jaehyun sighed desperately, he didn’t want to be bothered with the work either. But you nod with confidence and he went a few feet away so he could make his call in peace. Miga was sitting next to you and looked into the sea.

"Do you like the sunset?" You stroked her hair and at the same time you controlled that she has not any strands of hair in her face. Her hair has become so long lately and she looked a little bit older. Your daughter is getting bigger and that makes you sentimental.

"Yessss." She grins and tries to get up, but you try to get her to sit again.

"Watch out Miga! You will hurt yourself." It was one of her bad habits that she got up anytime, anywhere. You were always afraid that she would fall off her chair and hurt herself. But she always listened to you and she sat down again.

"Miga I want to talk to you." You look lovingly at your daughter and stroke her cheek.

"You're a big girl now, right?" Miga nodded confidently and she turned closer to you.

"And we can now have a girl to girl talk right?" She nods again and looks at you with her dark brown eyes. She has exactly the same eyes as Jaehyun, the same dark color and the wonderful almond-like shape.

"I know you did not want a little brother, but you're going to be a big sister now and you have to be strong. You have to take care of him, if he comes, he will be very small and pretty fragile, like your dolls.“ She continues to look at you wide-eyed and you decide to lift her to your lap. You want to show your daughter that getting a brother is a good thing.

"You can teach him things and you can play a lot with him. That sounds funny, right?" You smile and look expectantly to your daughter. She stares into the distance, her fingers play with her lower lip and she nods.

"I want to play with him now." She looks at you wide-eyed and you had to laugh because of it.

"You need to wait a little bit. First he has to grow, then he can come." With one hand, you point to your stomach, which you start to stroke. Miga nudges your stomach with her little finger.

"Is he in there?" At this point she was quite fascinated and she tapped again against your belly.

"Yeah, and he's awake right now. Put your hand there.“ You pull your shirt up a bit, took your daughter's hand and put it on the spot where you feel the kicks. And when Miga put her palm on your skin, the little boy in you started kicking wildly.

"Wooaaahhh!" Miga was very excited and she started to giggle. The baby kicked more and your daughter could feel her brother for the first time. She kept giggling and you were glad that for the first time she accepted her sibling.

"Well, what did I miss?" Jaehyun came back and stood in front of you.

"Miga got to know her brother." You smile satisfied and gently stroke the back of your daughter.

"For real?" He laughed and leaned down to her. She nodded and hugged your stomach. It was so sweet and heartwarming that you had to cry a bit.

"Is everything okay? What did Taeyong say?" Meanwhile Miga climbed down from your lap and hangs herself on her father. Jaehyun took her in his arms and hesitated to answer.

"I'll tell you that later." He tried to smile, but you knew it was something that kept him busy. But you could not go on, as he had picked Miga up and walked a few steps to the sea.

"Look Miga. Right here I asked your mother if she wanted to marry me."

On the way to your hotel, Miga got tired and ended up sleeping on her dad's back. Jaehyun put on her pajamas gently and put her to bed. On the way you stopped also in a convinient store and have bought a few snacks and something to drink. Your hotel room had a terrace with a couch of pallets. While Jaehyun puts your daughter to bed, you preparing everything on the terrace. It was still pleasantly warm outside and you wanted to enjoy the togetherness this weekend as well.

"Unbelievable, she did not even wake up." Jaehyun came out and grabbed a bottle of Soju. He sat down in the corner of the couch and leaned back.

„I wish sometimes that I could sleep so well, but the little man in me becomes so active in the last days." You give yourself a ginger ale that has been one of your cravings lately too.

"Come to me." Jaehyun held out his hand and you followed him. You sit down between his legs and leaned your head against his shoulders.

"Would you like to tell me what Taeyong said?" You looked up at him and see how he took a sip of the bottle.

"They want to make a new mini-album with NCT U. Now they're going to talk about who's supposed to be in. Actually, I've always been most of the time in all NCT U's songs, but this time they're thinking of excluding me." You notice a sadness in his voice and you could imagine that it was certainly hard to be excluded somewhere.

"Taeyong wanted to know if he should stand up for me. But the talks will not start until next week anyway." He took another big gulp and then leaned his head against yours.

"Why did they want to exclude you?" You reach for his arm with your hand and lean with your cheek against them. Jaehyun laughed a little scornfully.

"Because I'm not so good for their marketing in NCT anymore. I'm married and soon I will have two kids. That's not interesting for fans and the idol market. But I don’t want to talk about it anymore, we should enjoy the evening." He kissed your temple and pushed you closer to him. Of course, you did not want him to make a comeback with NCT again. In a few months you would get your second child and you wanted him to be there for you, Miga, and your son. But for today it was better to put the topic aside.

Meanwhile it got colder and Jaehyun put a blanket over you. You are cuddled up there, reminiscing about how you got engaged or how you became pregnant with Miga for the first time. By the late evening Jaehyun was a little bit tipsy and he also became more touchy. His hands moved along your shoulders. With his fingers he stroke your collarbones and went down your breastbone into your décolleté.

"Are your breasts still hurting?" His voice was tender and his lips were close to your ear. Your hairs got up and you shake your head. His hands moved under your shirt and under your bra. Slowly he starts to massage your breasts. With his fingertips he plays with your nipples, which swelled slowly more and more. You hear Jaehyun groan softly in your ear, and you can barely keep yourself quiet too.

"Does it feel good?" He massages your breasts further, but this time his grip was much firmer.

"Yes." You lean your head back and moan softly. It felt so good that you forgot everything around you. You just wanted to feel him on your whole body.

"Hmm, your boobs are feeling better than ever. Oh my god, they're so big and firm, how would it be if I put my dick threw them." Jaehyun loved dirty talk when he was a little tipsy. Soberly he seldom spoke like that, but you liked this side. But maybe this was not the place to continue this kind of conversation.

"Jaehyun ..." You enjoyed his hand on you again, but you are already clutching his wrist to show that he should stop.

"Maybe we should move this to tomorrow when we get back home. Everyone can see us here and Miga sleeps inside." The downside of marring an idol was that in public you always had to watch what he or you did. People try always to make compromising photos. But you did not want to offer such people a platform.

"Hmm, you're right." Jaehyun slowly pulled his hand out of your breasts and put his arms around your belly. He gently strokes it and you closed your eyes.

"Can you believe we'll have another family member soon?" Jaehyun touched after the kicks as the baby just got quite alive. He has not let you sleep so well lately.

"Well, it's a bit more realistic for me because our son is always moving." You laugh and lean further into the shoulder of your husband.

"Hmm I know, but for me that's sometimes so incredible, you run around with a round belly for a few months and then ... there's just suddenly a baby there.“ He was right, it was a bit unbelievable. That's why it's probably called miracle. As a man, it must be particularly difficult, because you can only feel the baby by kicking. As a mother, you feel everything more intensively, you feel your child grow inside you and so you already have a very different relationship to each other.

"I can not wait to meet him." Jaehyun's voice was suddenly very quiet. He was so gentle and you could feel a little sadness.

"I feel the same." You look up at him and give him a kiss. You'll stay like this for a while, until you got tired and went to bed.

That night you finally could sleep through again. For the first time this week, the little boy in your stomach stayed calm. Maybe it was because you were so relaxed or because Miga slept in your bed. She was rarely allowed to do that except when Jaehyun was traveling. She then could always sleep in your bed. You still had your eyes closed, but you could feel the sun shining in the room. And then you heard the most beautiful sound: Your daughter’s giggling.

You open your eyes and see how Jaehyun and Miga were facing each other and how he was tickling his daughter.

"Stop daddy." But she did not want him to stop and he kept tickling her. Then he pulled Miga to him and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"You're so cute, I think I have to eat you." Jaehyun pretend as if he was biting his daughter and tickled her again. The giggling of the two lights up the room and you watched them for a while while you stroke your belly. And there it was again, the feeling of happiness that flows through your veins. And in that moment you felt so blessed.

The morning passed quickly, you had breakfast in the hotel, bought even more caramel prezel for your future cravings and you ate something for lunch. But then your little holiday was over and you had to drive home slowly. It hurt you a bit to leave this beautiful place, but you were glad that Jaehyun brought you here. You hoped that the ride did not take too long, but then Miga suddenly had to go to the bathroom immediately. So you leave the highway to find a gas station, but there were the toilets locked. So Jaehyun went with her into the bushes, so that she could pee there.

"Daddy, why is the dog crying?" Miga looked wide-eyed at her father as she peed. Jaehyun held her under her armpits so she would not pee on her clothes.

"What do you mean?" Jaehyun looks around, but could not see anything. But when Miga was finished, she ran with her little feet to another bush.

"Here daddy." She gestured to something and Jaehyun came closer to examine it. And then he heard it too, the whimpering of a small dog. He then recognized the border of a box, which he immediately pulled out of the bush. It was a shoebox, with a few small holes. Jaehyun lifted the top and could not believe his eyes. In the box sat a small Shiba-Inu puppy, who was very dirty and trembling. Miga leaned down to him and tried to stroke him.

"Watch out." Jaehyun was afraid that the puppy would bite her. But Miga lightly pats his fell and the dog closes his eyes for a moment. He seems to like her.

"Is he hungry?" Miga was still looking intently at the puppy. Jaehyun picked up the box and looked closer at the dog.

"Yes I think so."

"Are we taking him home?“ Miga's eyes grew big again and she looked questioningly at her father.

"Let's see what your mother says." Jaehyun took the box with one hand and held his daughter's hand with the other. Both walked slowly back to the car and Jaehyun opened the passenger door. You looked to him curiously as he handed you the box.

"Look what Miga has found." You look in and see the little trembling puppy. Your heart hurt so much to see the little one so thin and scared.

"Was he abandon?" You carefully try to pet the puppy, who was really trusting. Jaehyun nodded and put Miga in the car seat.

"Mommy, can we keep him?" She begged you and you could not say no. This poor puppy had no mother anymore, someone had to take care of him. You were very sorry for the animal, but maybe it was just your mother hormones that persuaded you to take the animal.

"It looks like our family has grown. We have a puppy now.“ You smile and continue to stroke the puppy. Jaehyun has wanted a dog for so long, but you were never sure if there was enough time. But you wanted to give this little puppy a home.

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blu-joons · 5 years

Text

Pregnancy with Namjoon ~ BTS Headcanon

Finding Out You’re Pregnant

Namjoon was thrilled to find out the two of you were going to have a baby

He had spent years looking after the boys building up to this very moment

It was a rare occasion as tears streamed down his cheeks, unable to contain his emotions which he usually did so well

He was completely overwhelmed with pure joy looking ahead to the next nine months

“I’m so glad we finally get to have the family we’ve dreamed of for so long.”

His parents and sister were thrilled too, booking the first flight to come and visit you both with lots of cuddles

From the start his protective instincts kicked in, you were not to do anything strenuous or lift anything

He decided not to tell the fans until you were both at a safe point in your pregnancy, he was very aware that the first few weeks were critical

The boys were ecstatic, although jealous their father figure was going to replace them with an actual baby

“I can’t believe I’m getting pushed aside for your own child, the cheek of it!”

He loved to spend as much time with you as possible, not wanting to miss any moment of your pregnancy

Being Pregnant

When, and only when things were given the all clear you felt comfortable enough to share the news with Army

He wasn’t the best with a camera, so with Jungkook’s help he was able to do adorable photoshoots as your bump grew

“I think I’ll wake up soon and this will be a dream, I still can’t believe we are having a baby.”

“Try carrying one, then see how dream like it is.”

He very quickly adjusted to your mood swings, just sitting back and letting you grump before cuddling you again

The fans were all so excited, trying to predict the baby’s gender, weight, and anything else

Namjoon was present always, any scan or appointment he was right there beside you

He carried a little notepad around to take note of all the things you were told to do

Joon swore by the doctor’s words, following them always

Your house was filled with pregnancy books, Namjoon had read every single one of them

He always had suggestions to make life easier, or surprise you with techniques to help your pain

Above all else, he was there to reassure you that pregnancy looked amazing on you and he was completely in love with you

Namjoon coped well with morning sickness, rubbing your back and moving your hair out of the way

Your labour bag was packed three months early, as Namjoon told you to expect anything

He had plenty of lists written with lots of notes for what was going to happen when

“I don’t think you can ever be too organised when it comes to having a baby.”

“Joon, I love you, but planning the route to the hospital when we are only three months in is a bit excessive, what’s to say I go into labour here?”

You decided to find out the gender to make life easier for you both, a little boy was what you were expecting

He was super excited to be expecting his own mini me

He couldn’t wait to get started on the nursery, although you definitely were needed to oversee things

You were forever calling out to him to watch where he was stepping before he hurt himself

Namjoon loved to speak to the baby bump and tell your son about your day

“I read that talking to babies, even before they come out, helps stimulate the mind.”

He would always offer his old shirts and jumpers for you to wear, dressing you in them especially as you slept

You always felt more comfortable in baggy clothes as your bump was a little less noticeable

But, Namjoon disagreed, you were pregnant, and all of this was completely natural

He loved to get the boys to take photos of you both, the more candid the better

They were always hanging around to spend time with you and help you prepare for the birth

Gifts were forever being brought round; your son ended up getting two nurseries just to make room for all of his presents

If you were at the studio, they always helped you out, listening to their leader’s instructions

He decided to nickname your bump, sarcastically referring to him as ‘bruiser,’ for all the times he’d kicked you

You were always around him so he could give his son a talking to when he got a little bit active and excited

“Give mummy a break bruiser, otherwise there will be trouble.”

He practiced early when it came to be strict, but fair, with his kids

Namjoon was always on hand for a cuddle, especially when you were having trouble sleeping and getting comfortable late at night

The first time your son kicked was huge, Namjoon couldn’t stop giggling as he placed his hand over your bump

You always made sure to grab his hand when he did to show Namjoon

He even created little raps to the beat of the kicks, sneaking them into BTS songs

Yet, he still sang to you most nights, even if it did nearly break your ear, trying to soothe the baby

“I don’t know what Jimin was talking about, I’ve got an excellent voice, even our boy agrees.”

“I don’t think that’s him agreeing with you Joon.”

You had major cravings for biscuits and cakes, Namjoon was always going on biscuit runs when you got hungry

Namjoon ended up filling a whole cupboard in your kitchen of all your favourite biscuits

As the birth grew nearer, Namjoon had practically put you on bedrest

He was desperate to make sure nothing happened to you, and if you were barely moving, he knew you’d be fine

Of course, you were both anxious, but you were both talking regularly trying to reassure each other

Namjoon was texting you every five minutes on the off chance you’d gone into labour

You had to keep calming him down when he got too excited that his son was soon going to be here

“Can you stop jumping up and down for thirty seconds and just remember to breathe.”

“I can’t, I’m just so excited.”

He continued to practice your lessons from antenatal so that you were nice and calm

Honestly, he knew he was going to hate seeing you in so much pain, but it was going to be worth it

Labour

Your waters broke whilst you walked around the house, completely unexpected

Namjoon was at the studio leaving you all alone trying to get your phone

He was due to check up on you any minute, so as he called you quickly begged him to come home

Jin drove him back to yours, taking you both to the hospital rather than getting a taxi

“Try to not get any bloody or yucky stuff on the back seats of my car Y/N.”

“That is the least of my concerns right now Jinnie.”

You were taken down to your suite, resting on the bed whilst Joon sat beside you

The contractions began pretty small, yet soon picked up causing you a tremendous deal of pain

Namjoon struggled from the start to see you in so much pain

You chose to just rely on gas and air, the thought of the needles involved in an epidural terrified you

The midwives were amazing in supporting you

Namjoon was forever asking questions, panicking whenever anything happened

He was probably more frightened then you were

The final moments of your labour were brutal when the midwife arrived to tell you that it was time to push

“Just remember everything you’ve been taught so far, and you’ll be fine, and I will be right by your side the entire time.”

Namjoon continued to hold your hand, lightly running his hands through your hair

Beside you he breathed with, inhaling and exhaling

As soon as the head appeared, tears brimmed Namjoon’s eyes, there was something so beautiful that made him so emotional

Once your son was delivered, you couldn’t quite believe it, collapsing in Namjoon’s arms

All the pain had most definitely been worth it

Namjoon encouraged you to hold him first, sitting back and just lightly touching him

“I read it’s important to put the baby with mother as soon as possible.”

He allowed you to hold him for a few hours, he wasn’t entirely sure how much skin to skin contact was too much

His eyes were glued to his son, continually smiling at every little thing he did

There were a lot of tears, not even mostly from the baby, when you were left alone

Your son quickly tried to grab Namjoon’s finger, his tiny fingers clutching to it for dear life

The boys had already sent you lots of gifts that they dropped in during your labour

You had decided on a name after a great deal of debate a couple of months ago, it was about the only thing you could both agree on

Namjoon’s very gift for your son was a pair of sunglasses that Hobi had bought him to match Namjoon’s

The First Few Hours

Namjoon was terrified to hold your son for the first time, you had to force him to do it

“I don’t want to drop him, you know what I’m like, this is dangerous.”

“Love, you’ll be fine, just breathe and sit, it will all come natural, I promise.”

He was soon sending photos to both of your families to let you know of the safe arrival

When your son finally landed in Namjoon’s arms, the tears finally fell for you

You could see how close the two of them were going to be

You took a photo of them and put it in your group chat with the boys to let them know their baby newphew was here

Your phone soon erupted with notifications from all, excited to him

Surprisingly, your son was very well behaved, minimal tears were shed in the first few hours

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for you two

Every time you tried to stop, you’d both look at him again, feeling a wave of pride overwhelm you again

“I keep trying to stop crying, but then I see that smile, and I just cry all over again.”

Namjoon didn’t let you move for ages, not until you felt completely pain free

He was happy to do all the early chores to give you time to relax, he was so excited to change nappies

Although, Namjoon had not realised it was such a fiddly job

“Why are there so many sticky strips, I just don’t understand.”

He couldn’t wait to take your little one home and introduce him to all his family, and most of all, all his uncles

The First Few Days

You went home two days later, to see his parents already sat in the front room with his sister

They’d used the spare key to tidy your home and make sure everything was perfect

Plus, they couldn’t wait any longer to meet your baby and smother him with affection

Namjoon was just as excited to have his family around to help adjust to life with a baby

“Someone else can hold him for a bit, someone with a bit of confidence that the baby is safe.”

It took some time for Namjoon to relax around your son, fearful he’d do something wrong

He was always present for feeds and naps, intrigued by it all

The two of you had a smooth system when it came to nights, alternating who went each time

He took a few days off from work, apprehensively leaving Jin in charge

The fans were told a couple of weeks later, using a photo his sister had taken candidly of the three of you

Namjoon had perfected lullabies, cuddling your son in his rocking chair

As a team, anything was possible, and you knew it

Meeting The Boys

You took him to the boys just a couple of days after you got home

Honestly, you were sick and tired of the calls and texts for them to visit you

There was a lot of screams when you walked in, Namjoon shutting them all up quickly

Jungkook was there with his camera to film the moments everyone met your son for a Bangtan Bomb

Yoongi was surprisingly the first for cuddles, he knew how long Namjoon had wanted a baby, it was something they’d spoken about nearly a decade ago, and now it had finally happened

Jin had a collection of cuddly toys he presented, the bigger the better

Hobi held your son, dancing around the studio with him, tightly holding him, waltzing around trying to make him smile

“Be careful Hobi, he’s only a few days old!”

Taehyung changed him into one of the baby grows he had bought for him

Jimin was just in awe, finally someone in the group who was smaller than him, not that a baby would be teased for it

None of them ever wanted you to leave the studio, begging you to just move in so they were always around him

They were back the next day at your house to enjoy more time with your son

The Future

Namjoon loved the baby bubble you lived in, embracing it for as long as possible

Initially, he found it hard balancing parenthood and BTS, but with your help he found a way to do it, making everyone happy

He loved you more and more everyday as he watched you blossom into the most beautiful mum in the world

“I definitely want our family to grow at some point in the future.”

In his head, his future was planned, a big family, and lots of uncles for all of your offspring

Namjoon was the luckiest man in the world, with the best people in his life

---

Masterlist

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carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER UPDATE FOR NEVER TEAR US APART

Meddling siblings, lavender biscuits, encounters with Malcolm, and a sunset in Hampshire. Back to the world of Never Tear Us Apart!

Sorry for the months long hiatus but hello, I'm back to Never Tear Us Apart! It’s been outlined and plotted since I wrote the first chapter but I hit a major wall this summer when real life hit me very hard. It took me awhile to find my way to writing again and when I did return I realized I had so much to process with Wayward Son. It was particularly hard return to writing this particular fic. Much as I loved WS, it definitely put a pause on this fic, which was my version of a sequel to Carry On. I had to decide how I wanted to think about it--did I want to keep going with the story the way I had planned it out or did i somehow want to bring it in line with the canonical story line of WS? In the end I decided to keep to my original ideas, to stay the course. To regard this now as an non-canonical AU that is very much set in the post-Carry On world but not the Wayward Son one. I think I found their voices again. I hope those of you that have followed this fic enjoy this update. And for those of you that are new to it--it’s going to keep going. i can’t promise you a set update schedule but i am going to tell this story to the end. Accompanying playlists can be found on spotify under tbazzsnow.

Here’s a bit of chapter 12:

Baz

Simon looks so fucking beautiful right now. His hair is a mess, strands sticking to his forehead, curls tumbled down over his face. He’s flushed from the dancing, finally letting himself succumb to the music—he throws his head back as I watch him, his arms and hips moving sinuously to the beat.

I follow a bead of sweat as it trickles from his forehead, down his jaw, to trace a line along his neck.

I want to lick it off.

That would lead to a whole host of other things I want to do to Simon and no amount of sound-proofing or door-locking spells would prove adequate at keeping my siblings from somehow encroaching on us during daylight hours. They are persistent and undeterrable.

And this next step of intimacy we’ve reached is so new, so precious to me, that I don’t want anything to intrude on it.

The song switches over to “Never Gonna Give You Up” and the mood shifts as Simon opens his eyes and huffs a laugh at me. “I can’t believe you, of all people, have this song on your playlist.”

“It’s Fiona’s playlist.”

“That she made for you.” He’s grinning now and I’m perfectly content to take any amount of shit from him about my musical preferences because the playlist fucking did its job and made him smile again.

Points to Rick Astley. And Fiona, I suppose.

And to me, for not taking this song off the list.

I’m never taking this song off the playlist.

Simon shuffles his way over to me, singing along with the song as he does.

“Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down

Never gonna run around and desert you”

We’re both singing along by the time he puts his arms on my shoulders and I slide mine around his waist.

“Never gonna make you cry

Never gonna say goodbye

Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you”

It’s just a stupid pop song but I mean every word I’m saying right now. I’d put magic into the lyrics if I dared.

If I thought I needed to.

Simon’s lips find mine as the chorus fades into the next song. His fingers slide up to tangle in my hair and he pulls me closer. “That song is going to be stuck in my head for the rest of the day, thanks to you.”

We sway to the music as I trail my lips up his jaw to his ear and whisper “I meant every word of it.”

Simon pulls back to look at me, his blue eyes wide and questioning. “What?”

I lean down to press our foreheads together. “Every word of that ridiculous chorus.” All I see is that brilliant blue, the bronze glint of Simon’s eyelashes, the crinkles in the corner of his eyes when he smiles.

He’s smiling up at me. So close that I can feel his breath on my lips when he speaks. “I’ll never give up on you, Baz Pitch. I told you that once. I’ve never turned my back on you and I never will.”

This kiss is searing. His mouth is hot. Everything is hot. He’s pushing against me and I’m pushing back with everything I have, my grip tightening on his hips, his chest pressed up against mine, fingers clenched into my hair, the heat of him radiating into my every pore.

His mouth is dissipating every thought but the ones of him.

I’ll never give up on you, Simon Snow. I don’t know what the world would be like without you.

His hands are under my shirt, his fingertips leaving blazing trails against my skin. My own drift to his waistband, sliding up to brush his belly, relishing the way he shivers at my touch.

Crowley, I wish we were back in London.

“I wish we were back home.” The words slip out as I mouth at that spot behind Simon’s ear. That makes him shiver too.

“You are home,” Simon says, tilting his head back as my lips trail down to his neck. He slides his leg between mine and presses closer.

“You know what I mean.” I bury my face in his shoulder and breathe him in. He’s brown butter and cinnamon today, with that underlying tangy scent that’s all his own.

I feel his breath in my hair, stirring the strands, his voice just a whisper but I can hear it. “Home is wherever I’m with you, Baz.”

My heart thumps in my chest. When he says things like that, when he puts words to my own thoughts, when he speaks without stumbling over those words--those are the moments when I truly believe that Simon Snow loves me.

It’s a heady sensation.

A blaze flaring up in my heart, searing its way through my veins.

He’s in my arms, in my heart, in my lungs, he’s made his way into every part of me, pouring warmth and love and life into my very soul.

My mouth finds his. “I love you, Simon Snow.”

I can feel his smile against my lips. “I’ll never get tired of you saying that.”

“Then I’ll never stop saying it.” I kiss him again and I can’t help but smile myself. “I love you, Simon Snow.”

I kiss the mole on his cheek I’ve loved since I was twelve. “I love you, Simon Snow.” I kiss his jaw, his neck, his collarbone, repeating the words every time.

He’s trembling. Eyes closed, head thrown back, the glorious line of his neck exposed to my lips.

His hands rake down my back.

I should pull back . . . I should take a moment . . . I should . . .

Simon opens his eyes to pin me with a look. Pupils blown wide, face flushed, lips parted. “Why’d you stop? I was kind of liking that, yeah.”

His mouth curves up in a bit of a smirk and he’s so fucking delectable I would snog him to oblivion if I could.

Fuck. I’d do more than that.

“We’re here, not home.” It sounds as pathetic out loud as it did in my head.

“That didn’t stop us last night.”

“But . . .” Why the fuck did I stop? “Well, it’s the middle of the day . . . they’re all . . . well, you know. My siblings are . . . they’re devious little goblins.” Crowley, I sound an absolute tit.

Simon raises an eyebrow but he’s absolute shit at it so he ends up looking surprised rather than superior. It’s fucking adorable.

“They’re not even home.”

“What?”

“They’re not even here. Daphne took them to some children’s play centre for the day.”

“What?” Crowley, I’m repeating myself like an idiot.“How do you know that?”

“Vera told me. When I went for crisps.”

There is no situation that Simon feels cannot be improved with snacks. There are two packets of Walkers on my nightstand.

It’s not salt and vinegar crisps I’m craving at this moment.

“Come here, you stupid git.” Simon pulls me to him by my belt loops. It’s far sexier than it has any right to be. “Soundproof the room, if you’re that worried about it. Magick the door.”

Where the fuck is my wand?

Simon

I’m the first to get embarrassed around Baz’s family but it’s happened to me so many times now that I can’t summon up the will to worry about it at the moment. They’ve assumed we’ve been shagging for ages so I’m not fussed.

Particularly when the house is practically empty and Baz is looking like this.

He fed early this morning so he’s got a bit of a flush in his cheeks. And he’s got that look, that look I always used to think meant he was about to attack me. I mean, it is the look he gets when he’s about to attack me, but it’s all about a snogging me senseless type of attack. I like those. I like those a lot.

I like everything about Baz right now. The flush, the brightness of his eyes, how his lips are parted, barely brushed with pink. The way his shirt’s hiked up and his pupils are wide and dark, set against the grey of his eyes.

I pull him closer, fingers hooked in his belt loops and I like the way his breath catches when I do it.

He’s flustered, can hardly get the words out, and Merlin, I love it when he’s just as much of a mess as me.

I know exactly where his wand is. I move my hands to his perfect arse and squeeze. That makes him jump a bit so I yank his wand out of his back pocket and wave it in his face.

“Come on. Drop a “sound of silence” and stop being such a fussbudget.”

He draws back, wand in the air, eyebrows pulled together. “I am not a fussbudget.”

“Fine, then you’re a prig. Merlin, Baz, I’m starting to think you don’t want to have a good shag.”

He grabs my shirt in his grip and pulls me to him and I love the controlled power emanating from him, coiled and ready to unleash.

My tail wraps around his leg and he shivers. Baz will never admit it but he’s definitely got a thing for my tail.

I may have a bit of a thing for this too. I can hold him to me, wrap myself around him in every way.

It’s the last bit of magic left in me, I think. Not anything I can use or tap into or really even feel anymore. But I can still touch him with magic, when I do this. And imagine it’s enough.

read the rest of this chapter on ao3!

full fic here!

spotify playlists at tbazzsnow

#carry on #baz pitch #simon snow #never tear us apart #my fic #my writing #my sequel to Carry On #Emergency Dance Party playlist #I'm back #learn to fly

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mattzerella-sticks · 5 years

Text

Natural One (Fabian Seacaster/Riz Gukgak, 5.8k)

5 times Fabian rolled a natural one, and one time Riz rolled a nat 20

Fabian and Riz stand with their backs against each other - well, with Riz’s head pillowed by his lower back - surrounded by tiny gnomes baring their tools menacingly. Hammers and saws meant for building were slowly tearing them and their friends apart. One lucky swipe slashed his arm and earlier one of their attackers bashed Riz’s knee in. For tiny creatures they have a ginormous ruthlessness to them.

If they survive this, Fabian will bind Fig’s hands together with enchanted chains. So she can never again anger a room full of sleep-deprived mechanics by pressing the only button that would destroy their hard work.

“Why would you even make a button for that!” Fig screamed, swinging her guitar wildly, “It’s like hanging a piano with fraying rope. One way or another it was getting smashed!”

“Less pointing the finger and more apologizing !” Adaine said, tossing up a shield to block the flurry of screws pelting her.

Now while their friends handle the main engineer, Riz and Fabian stay with the stragglers.

“I never thought it would end like this,” Riz mutters, fingers twitching against his trigger, “After so many close calls… taken down by a bunch of gnomes hopped up on coffee and Adderall.”

“Don’t say that Riz,” Fabian says. He glances at the smaller boy, attempting a reassuring smile. “We’re adventurers. We have the final say on when we perish… and that day is certainly not today.”

Riz meets his stare, mirroring his expression. “Thanks, Fabian.” The words drift towards Fabian’s heart and wraps around it, squeezing. The uptick of his mouth feels more genuine. While he has confidence in his premier abilities and skills, Riz’s support is a special kind of blessing. A gift far greater than any Kristen’s terminally positive deity could give. His faith in Fabian is unshakeable, even when some of his actions and misadventures were questionable.

Why he never realized he loved the eager goblin sooner Fabian blames on tunnel vision. Too focused on aiming for precise points on the dartboard that he completely missed the bull’s-eye.

Once he realized where he should be firing, though, his aim faltered.

Fabian faced the encroaching gnomes, ready to fight. He crouches and leaps, twisting over the pack blocking him. Picturing how amazing he must look - twirling in the air, fluorescents flashing behind and casting him in a vengeful shadow, preparing to swing, slash, and drop his enemies.

Except he lands wrong. Foot sliding, Fabian falls to the floor. His sword flies elsewhere, wrung from his hands. The last thing he hears before succumbing to swirling darkness was Riz calling his name.

It doesn’t make him feel as warm as it did seconds earlier.

He comes to surrounded by the other Bad Kids. “It’s all smoothed over,” Gorgug says, “I managed to convince the boss that Fig blowing up their machine was a good thing.”

“Helped that he thought you were his son,” Fig chuckles, elbowing him in the ribs, “Seriously, who knew so many gnomes adopted orcish orphans? Apparently it’s really big in the gnomish community.”

Gorgug whines, “But he’s not my dad!”

“Honestly?” Kristen says, leaning on her staff, “It was a little touch and go there.”

Adaine nods, “I saw you mumbling to yourself. ‘No, it can’t be… three dads is too many’.”

“I got there in the end, that’s all that matters!”

Fabian sits up, waving his hands and cutting into their argument. “Wait a minute! It was that easy? But what about the other gnomes we were fighting?”

“They stopped pretty quickly after their boss offered them paid time off,” Riz tells him, “After you went down -”

“Which I took pictures of,” Fig adds, “very funny.”

“After you went down,” Riz repeats, “the gnomes closed in and were about to end me. But when the gang rushed in with the PTO forms they rushed home.”

“I can’t believe I got knocked out almost as the fight was over,” Fabian groans, “What did I even slip on?”

“Some loose nuts and bolts.”

Fabian slams his head into his knees, hoping the concussive blow could force him unconscious once more. “Please,” he says into his legs, “No one speak of this.”

“Too late,” Fig says, “I already texted it to the entire school.”

All he wanted was to impress Riz. He surely wouldn’t find a laughingstock that worthy of his affections.

The Hangman sped in as the group said their goodbyes, promises to meet up tomorrow and discuss their findings. Fabian couldn’t leave fast enough.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Coach Gorthalax stressed how important this game was for the Owl Bears. Winning this meant that they would advance to regional championships, playing bloodrush against some of the top schools across the lands. And with their final competition being the boys from Hudol, there wasn’t any doubt they’d move forward.

“Even if their players are pale, nerdy weaklings, with so little muscle development they can barely hold up their books,” Gorthalax said during the huddle, “I don’t want you slacking. Being lazy now is just the thing that’ll give them an edge over us. If we all focus we’ll win and have a good time!”

“Yeah!” Ragh screamed, pounding his helmet against his chest, “Let’s go and mutilate the other team! Woo!”

“See, now that’s some great enthusiasm,” Gorthalax wags his clipboard at the orcish player, “I want to see that from all of you. Now let’s hear some hoot growls. Hoot Growl! Hoot Growl!”

“Hoot Growl! Hoot Growl! Hoot Growl!”

A stampede of cleats and warcries filled the pitch as Fabian and the other Owlbears stormed the field, startling the opposing team as they sipped at their tea. Watching a biscuit drop and crumble onto the grass made Fabian grin, an omen for how the game would play out.

Hudol didn’t stand a chance. The Owlbears played to their strengths. Fabian and Ragh never let them have the ball, and on the off chance they did Gorgug tackled them once they stepped foot near the goal. Height and long limbs had their advantage when guarding. Riz helped by confusing them, rolling up into a little ball and jumping into their arms. Sometimes a Hudol boy ran towards Gorgug only to find Riz in his arms smiling. Distracted, they never saw Gorgug until it was too late. They high-fived over the prone figure below them.

Halfway into the third quarter, though, Riz sat on the sidelines. Helmet off and chatting with Fig, their assistant coach and manager. He didn’t think a student could hold such a position, but one day during practice she came in with a whistle and two hats - ‘Ass Coach’ stitched onto one and ‘Womanager’ on the other.

“Is this allowed?” Gorgug asked, “What did Principal Aguefort say about this?”

“He liked my moxy and wanted to know if I could be coach as well,” Fig said, smirking, “I told him thanks but assistant coach and manager were already enough. Then he did a bump of cocaine, offered me some, and hopped out of his office window.”

Riz arched a brow. “You didn’t take it did you?”

“What are you, a cop?” she huffed, rubbing her nose.

They were most likely discussing plays and maneuvers. Fig surprised him with her skills in both roles she took on. During practices she pushed them harder and further than even his mother during sword practice. Outside the field Fig kept their successes circulating in the school paper and once, for an overnight away game. booked them the nicest motel.

“I didn’t think the school had the budget for something this fancy,” Fabian said while waiting in one lobby with its own water feature. Gorthalax spoke with the lady behind the front desk while the others ran to their rooms.

“Oh it doesn’t,” Fig said, “That’s why I used Gilear’s credit card. Not like he’s spending money on anything other than yogurt.”

Caught up in the memory he doesn’t see the leg of Hudol player until he’s tripping on it. The ball in his hands goes flying.

Luckily an Owlbear snatches it and powers through over to the Hudol goal. Fabian glares, shoving the boy who tripped him as he stood.

Ragh jogs over to him and slaps his shoulder. “Head in the game, Seacaster. Hoot Growl!”

“Yes, yes - Hoot Growl!” The teams move to set up for the next match after the Owlbears scored their latest goal. Fabian waits in the middle for the referee's whistle. Glancing over to the bench he sees Riz staring at him intently. Under such intense scrutiny forces a blush to settle on Fabian’s cheeks. Trying to will it away only causes him to miss the whistle and see Hudol steal their ball.

“Get it!” Gorthalax screams, “Get the ball!”

Fabian spins and chases the player, bulleting over. Leaping forward Fabian tackles the other boy and rolls with him until he’s crushed underfoot. Grabbing the ball back, he takes a moment to appreciate the cheers erupting from all around. The stands go crazy. He spots a sign held aloft by Adaine and Kristen, both girls stamping their feet in excitement. On the bench Fig is shouting at him, but he can’t notice over the pride glowing from Riz’s face.

He craves more of it. “This one’s for you, Riz,” he says, and charges towards the goal. Fabian slams the goalkeeper to the side and scores a point. Overcome with delicious victory, Fabian throws the ball and begins dancing.

Suddenly someone knocks him to the ground.

Ragh rages over him, teeth bared and drool leaking from his mouth. “You idiot,” he says, “you cost us a point!”

“What?”

Gorgug groans from his side. Craning his neck far enough, Fabian can see the taller boy hunched in on himself. Nursing his wound from the vicious attack he laid upon him.

“There goes our perfect game!” Ragh seethes, “You working against the Owlbears? Is it some kind of elf thing? Because if there’s one thing I don’t like it’s a traitor -”

“Get off of me!” Fabian says, shoving Ragh off of him. Standing he looks past his friend and notices the rest of the scene. His teammates glare at him, scowls hidden behind their helmets. The crowd flipped on him. They boo and taunt him, Adaine and Kristen hiding behind their hands. Gorthalax shakes his head while Fig breaks her clipboard with her knees and sets it aflame.

And Riz winces, as if the overwhelming embarrassment crushing Fabian was too painful to watch.

“Get it together,” Ragh shoves him, jogging over to the starting line, “We have a game to win.”

Owlbears triumph over Hudol with a wide margin. However the celebrations are muted since it wasn’t the landslide they were expecting. The locker room was silent where Fabian changed. No one clapped him on the back or flicked a towel in his direction in good cheer. What he did receive were fumbled assurances from Gorgug - who brushed off his apologies, saying there was no need - and Riz’s attempted jokes.

All Fabian wanted to do was crawl into his bed and die.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fabian sits at Riz’s table confusedly following the red strings criss-crossing the corkboard in front of him. “Wait, how is the Daycare connected to the Pixie smuggling ring?”

Riz sighs, sipping at his coffee. “Okay, so the Pixies…” He launches into another explanation, Fabian doing his best to focus. But like before he stops listening and instead focuses on how Riz’s mouth moves to shape his words. The way his hands flit around and, at times, shake so much Riz nearly drops his coffee. And when he turns to point at his work Fabian’s eyes drop low to appreciate how his slacks cling to his tush.

“And the money from their operations gets funnelled from the Daycare and into these shell accounts,” Riz finishes, facing Fabian again, “Do you get it now?”

He doesn’t trust his voice, so he nods.

Riz smiles. “Good. Then that’s exactly how I’ll explain it to the others when we see them tomorrow.”

Fabian returns it, fiddling with his own mug. Like always they and their friends were wrapped up in some serious trouble. This time Kristen, in trying to set up a physical location for her Church of Yes?, accidentally rented out a space that used to hold illegal artifacts between trades. They discovered this when Gorgug picked one up and unleashed an army of gremlins that wrecked the barren floor. After beating them and destroying the orb Riz sent the evidence to his mother.

Hearing how it was stolen piqued their interest, and once again launched them on another adventure.

A few days of serious investigation later the group reconnected and went over their findings, Riz taking it down and setting the clues on the corkboard. The night dragged on and one after another their friends dropped. Gorgug left first, promising to meet them at school in the morning. After him Adaine said she needed her rest and invited Fig to join her and Kristen for a sleepover.

“Sure,” she said, “can we have a few brewskis and kick it before we hit the hay?”

“I don’t know,” Adain shrugged, “we can always ask Jawbone?”

“Sick!”

That was over an hour ago. Fabian felt the siren call of sleep singing to him, tempting him with the wondrous beauty of sleep. He fought against it as he did everything in life; clawing tooth and nail for what he wants. In this moment it’s to share the cramped kitchen with Riz and his cluttered corkboard.

Riz settles in the seat across from him, pouring another cup of coffee. “You want me to top you off?”

Fabian shakes his head, pushing his mug away. “I really shouldn’t. Too much and I might not be able to hold my sword without it shaking.”

“You get used to it,” Riz says, “Years of drinking this stuff allowed me to take into account the jitters for when I’m shooting my gun.”

“How early did you start drinking coffee?”

“Same as everyone else. Five?”

Fabian bites his lip, unwilling to shatter the illusion for his friend. Instead he glanced behind him at the corkboard again. “I must say, that sure is something…”

Riz follows his gaze. Smiling, he leans into the chair and takes a huge gulp of his drink. “We did a lot of good work. I know officers who can barely think past their patrols who wouldn’t have been able to do this.”

“I think the real credit goes to you,” Fabian says.

The other boy directs his smile at him. “You think so?” he asks, a small tint to his cheeks. Seeing him fluster brings a rush of warmth racing up Fabian’s chest, and he hopes a blush isn’t blooming across his own face.

Everyone knows how deeply Riz loves detective work. Aside from how he dresses and the never-ending supply of mystery novels he keeps in his briefcase, Riz also treats everyday matters like an investigation. Once a water fountain broke and, before the janitor could react, Riz canvassed the area with caution tape and began questioning witnesses for motives. During lunch he explained how, using deductive reasoning, Riz found the stolen item in his Rogue class and where his teacher hid it.

“That’s amazing!” Fig cheered, “Now do Porter! Find out exactly what evil schemes he’s working on!”

No matter what situation they were faced with Riz approached each mystery with a ferocious tenacity for finding the answers. Not willing to rest until every stone was uncovered and the truth was set free. Fabian cannot count the amount of times Riz’s quick thinking saved them or helped them see an important piece of evidence they missed earlier.

With the way Riz’s eyes sparkle under the flickering light bulb, Fabian wants to tell him how much he values and appreciates him.

Instead, what comes out is this. “No one else is as this obsessed with mysteries than you, The Ball.” Wincing, Fabian pinches his thigh in disappointment. Especially when Riz’s face falls.

“Oh…”

“That, I didn’t…” Fabian sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face, “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant to say at all.”

Riz tries to smooth his expressions, except Fabian can clearly see the lines marring his pretty face. “It’s late, I get it. Why don’t you turn in for the night?”

“Don’t you need my help?”

“It’s like what you said… I’m the only one obsessed enough to stay up this late. You don’t have to worry. I’ll crash on the couch if I need to.”

Fabian leaves, drained of any energy to stay and apologize. He shuffles over towards Riz’s room, closing the door behind him. Stepping over empty coffee mugs and sheaths of paper he stops at the smallish bed. Fabian strips off his jacket and jeans, folding them gently and leaving the pile on a clear space of floor. Then he curls up on the bed and wraps the wrinkled sheet around his shoulders.

There’s an ache in his chest where his heart is. Sleep won’t come until he’s finished lambasting himself for shoving his foot into his mouth. At least the smell from Riz’s pillow eases the blows, and gently cradles him as he drifts off into a dreamless sleep.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting at his desk, Fabian thinks that he finally found a way to confess his feelings to Riz.

He got the idea from his mother after a particularly grueling day of training. Fabian laid on the lawn, gasping for breath and waiting as Cathilda prepares a protein shake for him. Hallariel stands beside him, checking her makeup using her sword’s reflective surface as a mirror. A few feet away, sitting on a lawn chair, was Gilear. His mother’s boyfriend played keep away with a seagull who wanted his yogurt.

Turning away from a remarkably hilarious sight, Fabian asked his mother, “How did father win your heart?”

Hallariel shrugged, “With his passionate lovemaking.”

“ Mama !”

“What? You asked me a question and I answered it. Did I do something wrong ?”

“No, I…” Fabian sighed, leaning up on his elbows, “I wanted to know if there was anything he did that might have made you… swoon . Something sweet and romantic. ”

Hallariel’s gaze darted away from her face to her son, smirking. “Does my darling boy fancy a girl?”

“Mama…” Fabian ducked away, blushing, “it’s not a girl …”

“Even better,” she grinned, “now you won’t deal with the crushing disappointment when you realized she could never be as good as your mother.”

He rolled his eyes. “There’s no one who could be more perfect than you, mama,” he said, reaching forward to accept the shake from a returning Cathilda, “except maybe Cathilda. If you’re number one she’s definitely number two.”

“Bless your heart, you young thing,” Cathilda said, hand over her heart, “the sweetest you are.” She moves over to Halladriel, “What were you two discussing now?”

“Fabian wants to know if Bill ever did anything romantic,” Halladriel explains, “probably so he can use it for inspiration in winning over his little crush.”

“Oh! Why don’t you tell him about the letters?”

“Letters?” Fabian asked, “What letters?”

“The sweetest things they were,” Cathilda tells him, “your father, Bill Seacaster, would write these beautiful letters to your mother and send them whenever he was away for months on end. Whenever they arrived I’d always read them aloud as Haladriel drifted off to sleep.”

“Papa wrote you letters?” Fabian looked to Haladriel, “Why didn’t you remember this?”

She shrugged again. “Honestly I was toasted so much during my time with your father a lot of it is still a blur…”

Cathlida clapped, drawing their attention towards her again. “We still have them!” she said, “They’ve been put away, but I can dig them out for you if you’d like?”

“I would be delighted.”

Reading through the letters provided Fabian with a lot of details he didn’t need, learning that the beautiful prose was essentially foreplay for his parents. Imagining Cathilda read about his father’s length forced him to pause and spend the next few minutes hovering near the toilet. When he recovered Fabian focused on finding the little bits that weren’t explicit. Where his father compared his mother to the beauty of the sea or explaining how his newly earned riches would look better once locked away with his most valued treasure - his family.

While a letter was deemed gauche by today’s standards, Fabian found the practice intimate. Halfway through composing his own letter, though, he was hit with the worry that his letter wouldn’t arrive. Maybe on the way to his apartment it would be lost or damaged. Perhaps someone other than Riz opens it up? Squanda, to check and make sure the letter wasn’t a bomb. Fabian wouldn’t be surprised if Fig stole Riz’s mail that day and read his feelings, only to then tell Riz and butchering his meaning.

He succumbed to the anxiety and decided on a more direct approach. Fabian transferred his writings to his phone, finishing the letter there to send through text.

Re-reading it for the third time, Fabian realizes he needs to send it.

Fabian copies the text and switches from his notes app over to the messages. Working quickly while the courage of his father swims through his blood Fabian clicks on Riz and his messages. He pastes the text and sends it, slamming his crystal onto the desk face down.

Staring at it won’t make Riz respond faster, yet he cannot pull himself away. Each minute ticks by slowly the longer his crystal stays silent. Allowing for horrible images to flash across Fabian’s mind. Like Riz laughing and sending the letter to their friends, a highly impossible outcome. But the one where Riz spends time crafting the kindest rejection is unfortunately a sound possibility.

Suddenly his crystal flashes to life. Fabian snatches it with terrifying speed, opening the newest message.

It isn’t Riz.

Aelwen cooly thanks him for his devotion, offering him a night of passion if he’s willing to make the journey. Scrolling upwards he sees all the words that poured from his heart - sent to the wrong person.

He hadn’t talked to Aelwen since his disastrous attempt to free her. Fabian managed to follow through on his promise and fought for her freedom alongside the ragtag crew he gathered for the mission. Dodging spells and powering through guards, Fabian rode the Hangman and crashed through her cell. Then, after a kiss filled with searching hands and tongue, he helped her onto his motorcycle and fled to his ship.

Halfway across the Celestine Sea, Aelwen showed her true colors. Fabian found her preparing a dinghy for leave one starless night. He asked her where she was going.

“I’m leaving,” she said, “Is that not obvious?”

“But… but why?” Fabian asked, gut screaming as if stabbed. “We’re almost to Solace. And there we can be together… I - I thought…”

“You thought what?” Aelwen snickered, “You thought that I’d go with you because you freed me? Sorry to break it to you but I don’t slum it with trash, even if they’re somewhat cute and entertaining as you.”

Vision spinning, he staggered backwards. “W-what?”

“Thank you for all your help,” she said, untying the last rope, “But I must return to Fallinel. A friend offered me a room at her estate when I was free and I’ve kept her waiting long enough.” Hopping into the dinghy, Aelwen winked at him one last time. “Do tell my sister one thing for me? Even though she’s now an oracle she still can’t see what a colossal disappointment she is to the Abernant name. Farewell!”

The rope slips from her hands and she drops into the ocean, nothing left but the splash on her exit. Fabian doesn’t run to see her off, rooted to the deck as the pieces of his heart spear through his boots. When he collects them, Fabian shuffles towards his cabin and hides them until they reach shore.

His reception wasn’t well received. Adaine screamed at him until her voice was hoarse, pounding against his chest until she slumped over and was led away by Kristen. Fig and Gorgug didn’t say anything but kept their distance for the next few weeks. Only Riz stuck by his side.

The other boy sat with him after everyone left, understanding that Fabian had to go and see Aelwen. “Once you make up your mind about something,” Riz chuckled, “it’s hard getting you to change it.”

Riz’s words held no judgement. Even as Fabian confessed everything, including how Aelwen used and left him; he asked how that made him feel and hugged him through the rolling wave of depression that swelled inside.

Things returned to normal after a while. Adaine forgave him, and their group drifted together again. Except it wasn’t the same.

During the days Fabian and Riz were left alone he finally began to take notice of how special and important the goblin boy was to him.

So seeing how disastrously he messed up something as easy as a text, sending it to the worst person imaginable, turns his hopes into ash.

Fabian deletes the messages and leaves his phone on silent.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s now or never.

Fabian needs to take a leap of faith and lead with action. His father would chastise him thoroughly for how he’s tiptoed across the whole ordeal. Inviting embarrassment by tiptoeing around Riz. When he should do first and apologize later - if at all.

The group sits huddled together in Basrar’s, enjoying some milkshakes. Ever since Adaine freed him from his curse, Basrar has branched out to include other items in his menu besides various ice creams. To varying levels of success. While his milkshakes were delicious Fabian suffered at the hands of his chicken nuggets.

But they’re not slurping them as vigorously as they usually do. Too worn out from fighting pirates all day at Seacaster Manor.

His crew from the Aelwen misadventure came calling for Fabian, demanding their pay. He should have seen this coming since, bereft of any common sense by the heartbreak, he gave them a map rumored to lead to the grandest treasures of all. Except he drew it up in less than five minutes and water-logged it with tears.

When they finally discovered the ruse the ship set course for their newest mission - robbing the accumulated riches of Bill Seacaster.

Pirates were no match, of course, for the combined efforts of his friends, his mother and housekeeper. “And Gilear,” Halladriel added, standing over the corpses of their enemies, “we couldn’t have done it without his help.”

He glared at the sad elf his mother rubbed against, her hands tugging at his jacket. They knew Gilear added nothing of value to the battle save for the accidentally flung yogurt that sabotaged the cannon firing at them. Halladriel wouldn’t hear reason and began undressing Gilear in front of them.

“Best to run along, children,” Cathilda ushered them away, “Who knows how long they’ll be at it.”

Kristen swallowed her vomit. “Gross.”

“It’s not gross,” Fig defended her second father, “it’s good for him.”

“Well it’s awful for me,” Fabian hissed, “let’s go before we hear anything.”

“Oh!” Halladriel cried from a distance, a cold chill shooting up his spine, “You taste so sweet! What is that flavor?”

“Nothing too adventurous… just a simple vanilla mango yogurt…”

Fabian led them away with blinding speed. They decided on Basrar’s thirty minutes into their wandering, too sore to stay upright for long. Sliding into the booth the group ordered and enjoyed the calm environment. For once the group rested quietly, enjoying the silence.

It was so peaceful Fabian could think clearly for the first time in a while. An epiphany floated down from above and entered his spirit, imbuing it with strength.

Riz rests against his shoulder, skin tingling under his shirt and jacket. The smaller boy was injured pretty badly during the fight. Kristen’s healing only helped so much and Riz looks seconds away from sleeping. Kept awake only by the gentle shakes from Fabian every so often.

He wants to do this before sleep lulls him away, so Fabian softly whispers Riz’s name. Riz glances at him, frowning. “Yeah?”

“Riz, I…” A voice that sounds like his father cuts through his mind, telling him to stow his words. Show the other boy what he feels and steal a kiss. Cooling his nerves, Fabian leans down to do that. To capture Riz’s lips with his own.

But then something cold drips onto his nose.

“What’s th-” A blob slams into Fabian’s face and knocks him backwards, falling onto the floor. He curses and wipes the mess clear. Investigating what hit him, Fabian finds the culprit was a stray scoop of ice cream.

“Oh my God!” Fig screams, “it’s raining ice cream!”

Ice cream pelts their station, inspiring different reactions from the group. Unlike Fabian they cheered at the surprise dessert storm.

“How is this possible?” Adaine asked, chocolate ice cream melting on her head, “Our wish was already fulfilled?”

Basrar drifts over, smiling. “That is true, yes. However, I received a call from a man named Gilear asking that I serve you kids a treat so you would stay far from the Seacaster manor a bit while longer. He asked me if I could conjure some yogurt, but I told him that my magic does not create something so... sad . So then he asked if I could give you all frozen yogurt, which I could only assume was a strange way of saying ice cream!”

“Are you kidding me!” Fabian growls aloud, “How did Gilear even find out where we were?”

“I texted him,” Fig says, scooping ice cream off of Kristen’s shoulder. “Figured he’d want to know where we were in case more pirates came back.”

He groans as more ice cream pelts his prone body. Squinting one eye open Fabian sees all his friends save Riz enjoying the treat. Riz smiles down at him, fondness shining in his eyes. Fabian flushes, turning away from the stare.

Shoes squish onto the ice cream as Riz jumps out of his seat. He offers a hand to Fabian, “Need some help?”

Fabian answers by weakly taking Riz’s hand, pushing forward.

Instead of standing Riz tugs Fabian closer to him and slips an arm around his waist. Riz kisses Fabian, surprising him and earning catcalls from their friends. He ends their embrace, still smiling.

Fabian cannot wipe the shock from his expression. “Did you-?”

“Do what you should have done from the start?” Riz chuckles, “Yeah. Did you like it?”

“Did I like it -?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lou slams his fist on the table. “This is some bullshit,” he says, “How is it that I’ve spent countless games rolling nat 1’s trying to seduce you. And the first time you decide to flirt back you roll a nat 20. Bullshit!”

“I’m as surprised as you are,” Murph laughs along with the other intrepid heroes, “Usually my rolls are the crap ones.”

“Is that why you never helped out until now?”

Murph grins, winking. “Nah, I liked seeing how many times Fabian suffered.”

He scoffs, “You think that’s going to make me want to kiss you again?”

Brennan jumps into the conflict, shoulders shaking with contained laughter. “With a nat 20 Fabian and Riz begin making out in the storm of ice cream.”

“Oh come on!” Lou cries, “Fabian’s supposed to be the dashing hero! He had to make the first move! These dice are cursed.”

Emily shakes her head, cackling. “Could be worse. Riz could’ve rolled a nat 1 and we’d have to sit through another round of you trying and failingseduction rolls.”

“It’s not easy,” Lou argues, “Love to see you try and get a nat 20.”

“I so could,” she says, “you saw how hot and heavy me and Dr. Asha got. The next time we see him I’ll roll and ask him to marry him.” Brennan rolls some dice, drawing the group’s attention. He barks a quick laugh, looking to Emily. Her smile falls, “Uh oh, what?”

“All the commotion of raining ice cream and teens making out means the entire store is looking at your booth. Especially one seat at the bar where a dwarven doctor relaxed after a long shift at St. Owen’s Memorial Hospital,” Brennan explains, chewing on a chip he sneaked. “He walks over and, to Fig, asks, ‘Dr. Keller? Why are you hanging with these teens and not at home watching the kids?”

Lou erupts with laughter, leaning back in his seat and clapping. Emily scowls, grabbing for her dice. “What do I have to roll.”

“Let’s start with a deception.”

“Okay I’m good with deception…” She rolls, slapping her hand against the table. “I got a four. But that’ll be over a ten.”

“Say what you’re going to say.”

Emily clears her throat, shifting in her seat. “I needed a break from the kids and release the inner child in my heart with these… actual children?”

Brennan squints, head skewed to the side. “Dr. Asha is taken aback by that, slightly, but wants to believe in your relationship. ‘Did you at least get a babysitter’?”

“Yeah, yeah they’re fine…”

Lou turns to her. “So, are you gonna ask?”

“I’m getting to it, I’m getting to it…” Emily says, “So, Dr. Asha, I know we’ve been seeing each other, and we have kids… I think we should take this to the next level. I think we should get married.”

Brennan rolls another die. “Make a seduction roll, with disadvantage.”

“Fine.” Emily drops two dice on the table. Looking between the two, she screams and drops her head onto the table.

“What did you get?” Brennan asks.

Zac, at her side, uproariously laughs. “She rolled a twenty and a one.” They all hiss at the disastrous roll.

“A twenty,” Emily chuckles self-deprecatingly, “How can I split it this bad?”

Lou asks Brennan, “What happens?”

Brennan rolls a few more dice before smirking at Emily, doom curling his lips. “As you ask this Dr. Asha’s phone lights up with a call. He answers it, and the real Dr. Kelly speaks from the other end. Asking if he can bring home a pint of ice cream for the twins.”

“Oh, crap.”

“And,” the dice ominously tap against the table. “When he hangs up a couple enters Basrar’s - one elven ranger and the other a ginormous demon. It’s Sandralyn and Gorthalax!”

“Seriously?” Emily hisses, “How is this possible?”

“It’s possible because of the dice, baby,” Brennan says, “They see you and come over. Gorthalax starts up, ‘Fig! Oh, my lovely daughter, Fig. We didn’t know you’d be hear. Are you having fun? It’s so great to enjoy the days of youth before it’s all over. Being a high school student can truly be some of the best times of your life. Anyway, we won’t cramp your hang - get home at a reasonable time, though!’ They seat themselves far away, leaving a stunned Fig and Dr. Asha.”

Chin trembling, Emily asks, “Does he still accept my proposal?”

Brennan claps, laughing. “Dr. Asha leaves immediately.”

“Dammit!”

“See,” Lou says, “it’s not that easy.”

Emily rolls her eyes, “Just enjoy making out with my husband, okay?”

“I will!”

#Dimension 20 #Fantasy High #Riz Gukgak #Fabian Seacaster #Fabriz #Fabian/Riz #Fantasy High fanfiction

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leisurelypanda · 5 years

Text

A Moment’s Bliss

(a What Happens in Asgard one shot)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18794410

Four months. It had been four months since Bucky gave birth to his twins. It had been the busiest, most exhausting times of his life, since then. He had thought that retiring from hero work would mean his life would free up a bit. As it turned out, however, it just meant that he had just enough time to take care of his babies. Rebecca and Joey were beautiful and wonderful, but God, they required a lot of care and attention. Bucky was happy to give it to them, but he was getting tired.

According to May Parker, raising kids was one long case of being tired. Apparently being a super soldier didn’t make him immune to that.

On top of all that, he and Steve had spent the first couple months looking for a place to live away from the Tower. Sirens going off at all hours signaling distress in need of taking care of wasn’t good for the babies. After the first couple times it happened, they were able to get the signal disabled on their floor since they weren’t active duty.

They had looked at a number of places in Brooklyn, which was way more expensive than either of them remembered. That was everything, though. Thankfully, Stark had been paying them handsomely the past few years, so it wasn’t as though they were penniless. It was still somewhat flabbergasting to look at some of the prices, though.

They finally found a house that actually not that bad, price wise. It was large, spacious, and beautifully modern without Tony’s unfortunate minimalist tendencies and oblong structure. The outside had light grey paneling and the inside had gorgeous amber colored hardwood floors, and cream/beige colored tiles in the kitchen.

The living room was round with a massive window which gave them a beautiful view of the front yard, more windows beneath that with a door that led to the wrap around porch, and a stone mantle with a fireplace (a real one, not the cutesy fake kind). Overlooking the room was a balcony that led to the bedrooms.

His favorite part of the house, though, was the master bath. The bathtub was huge, and it easily fit both Steve and Bucky comfortably. More often, though, Bucky let himself take advantage of it, letting himself fully submerge and luxuriate in the hot water. Peter had gifted him with a small collection of bath bombs and Bucky had to admit, they were his new favorite thing.

Now, four and a half months after his babies were born, the four of them were moved in. The sellers were only too happy to sell to the former Captain America. The house was bigger than either of them knew what to do with, but with the help of an interior decorator, they had managed to furnish and decorate the house in a way that was practical, comfortable, and pleasing to the eye.

His reverie was broken by the sound of babies crying. He sighed, but got up from the couch. Bucky went up the stairs and turned the corner to the nursery. Steve held little Joey in his arms in the rocking chair, while Becca was still crying in the crib. She sounded hungry and Bucky picked her up with a gentle coo and let her latch onto a nipple. He sat down in the other rocking chair next to Steve and relaxed. Joey was drinking from one of the bottles they had, since Bucky produced a lot of milk. He blamed the serum, as usual.

“They’re getting so big,” Steve murmured. Bucky hummed in agreement. They were big for their age, according to Dr. Cho. Becca had been nearly 7 pounds, while Joey had been closer to six, but now, they were 18 and 16 pounds respectively. That Becca was consistently bigger than Joey was interesting, but Dr. Cho insisted that there was nothing to worry about.

“I know it’s pointless to say this, but I wish they’d stay small,” Bucky said.

“Me, too,” Steve chuckled. He stroked Joey’s cheek with a finger, a soft, loving smile on his face. It was so bright it made Bucky’s heart melt. “They’re so cute.”

Bucky smiled and looked down at their daughter. She had a mop of wispy brown hair, as opposed to the blond hair on Joey’s head. He stroked her cheek lovingly as she drank, her blue eyes wide and bright. He smiled and she smiled back around his nipple. Or she tried to. She grinned up at him with milk dripping down her chin.

“Baphhhha!” she babbled.

“Made a mess, little miss,” Bucky said with a chuckle. He took a soft towel and gently wiped up the mess. She babbled again and grabbed his finger. “Aww, you wanna play, Becca?”

He got up and grabbed her favorite toy: a set of plastic keys. He sat on the floor and set her down on her stomach. She propped herself up and looked at him with a wide, gummy smile as he rattled the toy. She babbled happily and reached for them. Bucky gave them to her and she shook them and laughed at the sound they made.

Joey started babbling too and Steve got on the floor with them. He set their son down and handed him a bright, blue and yellow elephant toy. It was Joey’s favorite. He tended to like soft toys and he often smiled and babbled at them while Becca preferred toys that made interesting sounds. It was so weird and fascinating to Bucky, how they could be twins, but so different.

Still, despite that, they still played together. Bucky loved watching them babble and play, like they understood each other already. Every now and then they would catch him watching and smile at him and Bucky would smile back and play with them for a bit.

Becca moved towards Bucky with a little difficulty. She hadn’t quite figured out crawling yet, so Bucky picked her up and placed her in his lap. She laughed and slapped her keys against his metal arm. She laughed as she did it again, smiling and laughing brightly as the keys clanged against his metal arm.

“She loves it,” Bucky said with a mix of bewilderment and fondness.

“Course she does,” Steve said. “It’s yours. You’re her Papa.”

Bucky smiled at that and looked down at their daughter. She reached a hand out to wrap around one of his metal fingers, her eyes full of curiosity and wonder. It was beautiful.

“I love them,” Bucky murmured. “God, I love them so much.”

“Gppphhh!” Joey replied. Steve chuckled and blew a raspberry at him. Joey smiled and laughed and Steve smiled down at him before he kissed the top of his head.

“I love them, too.”

Mother’s Day was somewhat strange. Bucky didn’t think of himself as a mother, like some other male omegas. He simply thought of himself a man who could get pregnant and give birth. At the same time, this was the first parent holiday when he’d actually been a parent and he was at something of a loss for what to do.

Steve was up to something, he knew that much. He wasn’t avoiding Bucky, but at the same time, he was oddly… circumspect about the subject for what to do on Mother’s Day. Bucky proposed that they simply use the day to celebrate parenthood. Steve had agreed, but that was it. The man with a plan… didn’t have one. At least, not that he’d told Bucky.

When Bucky emerged from the bedroom that morning, the house was strangely quiet. He crept downstairs, eager to not wake the twins if he didn’t have to. Quiet was hard to come by these days and Bucky found he craved the moments when the house was still and the twins were sleeping.

Who knew babies could be so exhausting? Bucky thought. Peter had enough energy as it was, but the babies seemed to have two speeds: 0 and 100. It was adorable and endearing, but still exhausting.

He went into the dining room and found a vase full with a large bouquet of red roses. His heart swelled at the sight (he blamed the omega hormones) and he put his nose near them and smelled. They even smelled like roses. It was hard to believe that people had ruined the flowers, but most roses these days didn’t seem to have a smell to speak of. It was the best part.

Steve came around the corner and smiled. He crossed over to where Bucky was standing and placed a soft kiss to his lips. Bucky hummed into the kiss.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” Steve said. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a ma, Steve,” he replied.

“So?”

“So why are you giving me shit for Mother’s Day?” he asked.

“Well, the way I see it,” Steve replied. “Mother’s Day is really just a day to appreciate someone you love. So… I decided that since there isn’t a mother in this family, that I would just celebrate you.”

Bucky reached a hand down and laced their fingers together.

“You’re a dork,” he said. Steve smiled.

“Yup.”

“And a sap.”

“Definitely.”

“And a punk.”

“Always.”

“I love you,” Bucky said. He pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss. Steve wrapped his free arm around Bucky and drew him close. They kissed for a long, peaceful, blissful moment before the twins started crying. Bucky sighed with annoyance.

“Just as it was getting good,” Steve chuckled.

“Shut up, they’re hungry,” Bucky said. “I’m hungry, too. Make me some breakfast if you really appreciate me.”

Steve laughed and waved him off. He marched up the stairs and went straight to the nursery. He carefully picked up each baby and cradled them gently as he set himself down in a rocking chair. Becca was already hitting his chest, demanding food while little Joey just cried. Bucky hummed gently as he pulled his shirt up and each of them latched onto a nipple and began to suck. He leaned back in the chair and settled in.

He must have dozed off a bit, because the next thing he knew, the twins were squirming in his arms and definitely were not interested in food anymore. He stood up and took them downstairs. He placed them in the play pen they kept in the living room so he could help Steve with the cooking. He took a moment to smile down at them before he did so.

They worked in silent efficiency, orbiting around each other as they worked. Soon the room was filled with the smell of biscuits and eggs and bacon. It was an easy, somewhat shocking form of happiness. Back in the 40s, most of these seasonings weren’t even available and those that were were too expensive.

This part of retirement was both the most comforting and the most difficult to get used to. The cooking without wondering if they would be called on a mission, the going to sleep without wondering if an alarm would wake them and the twins, even being able to take a bath without wondering if they would have to get dressed quickly, it all seemed so strange.

The only thing that disturbed the quiet was the sound of babies crying. Even that was less stressful than hero work. Bucky didn’t mind it, either. After decades of assassinations, brutality, and violence, it was good to do something different.

Maybe it was why Steve started making more art. Maybe he got tired of the violence and destruction, too. Making something, nurturing something, it was hard, but it was also immensely satisfying.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked.

Steve glanced up from where he was standing over the twins. They were playing on the carpet in the living room with big, goofy smiles on their faces. Steve, meanwhile, held a camera. An actual, honest to God camera, like professional people used instead of his phone like a normal person. He looked up sheepishly and grinned at Bucky.

“It’s their first Mother’s Day,” Steve replied.

“They don’t have a ma,” Bucky countered.

“They have parents who love them,” Steve said.

“You didn’t do this before,” Bucky said.

“Well, I thought I’d try something new,” Steve replied. “You know, scrapbooking, so we can look back on the times we had when they were babies.”

“You mean the thing where people have embarrassing baby pictures of their kids that they show to dates?” Bucky asked. Steve grinned and nodded.

“But, you know, also because they’re cute,” Steve replied. He held up the camera and looked at Bucky hopefully. “You wanna be in one?”

“For their, ‘Babies’ First Mother’s Day’ picture?” Bucky asked.

Steve looked like a little puppy the way he smiled so earnestly. It wasn’t fair that he could do that. Bucky’s resolve crumbled as he walked over to the twins and sat on the floor. They turned and smiled at him. He scooped up Becca with his left arm and Joey with his right. Joey reached up and took a lock of Bucky’s hair and giggled as he pulled it. Bucky ignored the little bit of pain. Hopefully it wouldn’t become a habit. He liked his hair.

The camera lens clicked and Bucky ignored it as he smiled between his babies. Becca giggled as Bucky kissed her head gently and the camera clicked again.

“You’re gonna be that suburban dweller who makes the family get themed pictures every year, aren’t you?” Bucky asked with a grin on his face.

“That’s a good idea,” Steve said. “Could be fun.”

Bucky made a note to kick himself later. Steve placed Joey’s elephant in Bucky’s lap and Joey abandoned the lock of Bucky’s hair (thank God) and started playing with the stuffed animal instead. He pulled on the ears, instead, and laughed.

“You’ll show me the pictures later, right?” Bucky asked.

“Of course,” Steve said. “I think I’m good, now.”

Bucky didn’t move to get up, but he did set them down on the floor. Steve sat down, too, and they played with their babies until they tuckered themselves out.

At the end of the day, after the babies were put to bed, Bucky crept through the house as quietly as possible. Who knew that the decades of espionage and assassin training would come in handy like this? He knew which parts of the house made sounds, how to avoid making them, and how to get from one end of the house to the other in complete silence.

Steve was decent at it, but obviously as Captain America, he had fewer stealth missions and more that involved straight up fights. There tended to be more explosions, too. As long as that didn’t become part of his parenting style, though, Bucky had no issues with that.

Of course, knowing that his birthday was on the 4th of July, there probably would be explosions involved in Steve’s parenting at some point. There was no getting around that. At least they would be small and easily controlled.

The light to the office was on and Bucky crept inside. Steve was sitting at the desk, clicking away at something. Bucky cleared his throat as he approached and Steve smiled sheepishly up at him.

“What’cha doin’?” Bucky asked. Steve was quiet for a bit.

“I’m experimenting with Photoshop,” he said. Bucky looked at the screen and sure enough, it was one of the pictures Steve had taken earlier. It was beautiful as it was, from what Bucky could tell. Then again, he had never been the artist. Steve had the attention to detail, the perfectionism that made him so good at it.

“You ever thought about going to school for this sorta thing?” Bucky asked. “They have that these days, you know. Could learn how to do this stuff all fancy and shit.”

“Language, Buck.”

“They’re sleeping,” Bucky drawled softly.

“I’ve thought about it,” Steve replied. “Not sure I’d wanna do it… you know, with my name.”

“Think SHIELD would give us fake names so we could go to college?” Bucky asked.

“Maybe,” Steve replied. “Not sure what they could do about your arm, though.”

“It’s easy enough to hide if you know how,” Bucky said. “I could manage.”

“Does that mean you wanna go to school?” Steve asked.

“Well I’m not gonna be your pretty stay-at-home omega, barefoot and pregnant,” Bucky said. “Not exactly what I was thinking when we retired.”

Steve chuckled. “Darn, there goes that fantasy.”

“Tough luck,” Bucky replied.

“What would you study?” Steve asked.

“No idea,” Bucky replied. “I just know that I have to do something. Staying at home is fine for now, but eventually I’m gonna get antsy.”

Steve was quiet for a while. “You know,” he said. “I could be the stay-at-home parent.”

Bucky looked down at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I mean, I like being here. I could make art here at home, watch the kids. I don’t know if I would even have to take that many classes.”

“Could get Peter to babysit if we ever needed to be out of the house,” Bucky said. “I think you’d be great at being a stay-at-home parent.”

Steve smiled and leaned in to rest his head on Bucky’s chest. Bucky wrapped an arm around his shoulders and hugged him gently.

“Thank you,” Steve murmured. Bucky leaned down and kissed him. It was sweet and chaste and affectionate. Steve reached up and took Bucky’s face in his hands as he started to deepen the kiss. It became heated and Bucky pulled back.

“Stop,” he said. Steve nodded and pulled back a bit.

“Still not up for it?” he asked.

“No, I just don’t want an Irish twin in addition to the twins we have already,” Bucky replied. Steve chuckled.

“That would get in the way of school, wouldn’t it?” Steve said.

“I mean, maybe,” Bucky said. “I just know that I’m not ready to get knocked up again.”

Steve chuckled. At that moment, they heard the sound of a baby crying, which soon lead to the sound of two babies crying. Bucky sighed as his own arousal dampened.

“Duty calls,” he said. “I’ll get them, you keep doing what you’re doing here.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Steve said.

Bucky walked out of the room and went to the nursery. He picked his babies up out of the crib and shushed them quietly, soothing their distress. They were tired. He sympathized. He walked over to his rocking chair and sat down to let them scent him. He stayed that way until they fell back asleep. The sound of a camera lens drew his attention and he looked up at Steve.

“Another one?” Bucky asked quietly.

“You’re all so cute when you’re like this,” Steve replied softly. “I love it. I’m gonna use this as a reference and draw it.”

Bucky actually smiled at that. “Sap.”

“That’s right,” Steve said. He walked over and kissed him. “Your sap.”

Bucky smiled. It was a nice thought. Steve was a good alpha. He was lucky, so lucky, to have him. Steve picked up one of the babies and set them back in the crib for the night. Bucky followed suit and as they walked off back to their room to go to bed, he found himself smiling at the simple, blissful life he had.

#stucky #a/b/o dynamics #alpha steve #omega bucky #marvel #avengers #What Happens In Asgard #fanfic #my work

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ofphcenixes · 5 years

Text

THE PHOENIX || blue hawthorne.

am i two hundred years late to the party ?? you bet your biscuits i am. but hiya all, i’m lilac, i am from the land of Quokkas and the Wiggles. i am already gonna apologise in advance for the mess of an intro below, so HERE is one of my fave videos as Thanks for wanting to learn more about my boi blue !! who, for the record, is so much lamer than he’ll let you believe. then again, i’m watching the nancy drew (2007) movie so who am i to judge lmao.

personality

THANK YOU FOR SUBSCRIBING TO BLUE FACTS. PLEASE TEXT ‘STOPBLUE’ TO CANCEL YOUR SUBSCRIPTION.

but if you have seen blue’s blog sidebar and title, i feel like you will gather a LOT about his personality lmfao

he is playful, jocular, and honestly? immature

always looking for the childhood he never got to have, y’know?

he is secretly very insecure and always has a need to please. if someone doesn’t like him, he’ll tear himself apart to figure out why.

he’s always telling jokes and always laughing. he’s known for his Memes and is always a good time to be around... if you know what i mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

but also Anti-( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) because ya boi has commitment issues so high they’re past the inevitable spaghetti monster that’s probably floating out there in space

he can also be very maternal when the need arises. he is not good at talking about emotions but he’ll give you a meme or a plate of cookies to Heal You

honestly? the human embodiment of a puppy. cannot be alone for very long, has a short attention span, and craves validation lmfao. give him a squeaky toy and he will be Contented

as a footballer he can be Tough on field when he needs to be but he’s also v sensitive and talks to birds he passes on his morning runs like he’s a disney princess djkgfdk

he struggles academically as he has a short attention span most of the time and thinks too little of himself. however, he’s a lot brighter than most people give him credit for. he’s incredibly creative and a lateral thinker. maths makes him want to die, tho.

also what’s money? blue does not know

to many, blue’s known as the troubled kid who turned his life around. to others, he’s known as the local Meme Dealer. but to a lucky few, he’s known as a friend who would do anything for you.

most just know him as the moron named after a colour tho. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

history. (trigger warning: illness, death, drugs, depression)

WHO’S READY FOR SOME CHROMATIC CONTENT

blue hawthorne, who never goes by his birthname bc he hates it dfkjgdgdf ( what is his birthname ? he’ll never tell ┌( ಠ‿ಠ)┘ ) was born right here in ashmont.

despite not having a lot - he grew up with just him and his mum ( his father left before he was born, never knew a thing about him ), in a tiny trailer park on the outskirts of town. a far cry from the opulent manors peppered all throughout town, and the very lifestyle blue’s mother was accustomed to as a child. however, the pair were content as long as they were together.

despite not having much, blue loved every second of his childhood. he wore his mischief like a crown, smiling wherever he went. he’d always resonated with a love of music and dance, and like his mother before him, danced. ballet was his passion growing up, and started as young as 5.

as a child blue was often teased for this, and the fact that he was so close with his mother. he was also very outspoken and strong-willed, and never let his peers get the best of him. he danced, he laughed, he bruised his knees at any given opportunity. what he lacked in possessions he gained in the abundance of joy he felt in his heart growing up. his mother and a few of his close friends were his world.

when blue turned ten, everything changed.

the jubilant, mischievous, but altogether kind-hearted boy was given the heart-breaking news that his mother had been diagnosed with cancer. margarette hawthorne, much like her son, was a fighter - and didn’t let such a diagnosis keep her down. despite their dwindling lack of funds now going towards medical bills, and the fact blue began sacrificing his own childhood as he took to the role of a caretaker of sorts for his mother, he never took his time with her for granted.

things were okay for a while. there was a point where the doctors were convinced that she was going to make it. blue was a fool. blue believed them.

at the age of thirteen, blue lost everything. he lost his place to live, he lost his childhood and lust for life, and he lost the person he loved most in the world. he lost his best friend.

it wasn’t long before the overbearing sympathy from those around him soured blue. he was sick of being bullied, people not liking him, and altogether not being in control. so what did this boy do ? he quit ballet (the thing he’d loved since he was able to stand), he started drinking, he got involved in a very bad crowd and became a frequenter of the local ashmont police station. blue became a certified Bad Boy™

blue was sent to live with the grandparents that despised him and never acknowledged his existence before that moment. righteous and conservative in their views, they had cast aside their daughter when she had blue out of wedlock, and only reached out to her in her final months. for this reason, blue despised these people (he refused to call them family). he tried his best to be appreciative of a house and food ( which was much better than anything he had growing up ). but he was cold. always cold.

as a teenager, blue fell into a rapid succession of bad decisions. still small, still frail in stature, he found himself at a dissonance with his image and began growing insecure about his looks, the years of torment weighing on him. he found anesthetic in the party scene outside of school, taking to alcohol and drugs as a sedative from the life he felt forced to lead. his grandparents were pigeon-holing him into a preppy, studious boy who’d go on to be a banker or a lawyer, when all blue had wanted to do was be himself. he couldn’t decide if he hated himself or he hated the world more.

at the age of 16, his rap sheet seemed to grow with each rising of the sun. he’d fallen in with a bad crowd, hardly ever heading ‘home’ and couch surfed. at the age of 16 he’d gotten his own car and lived more out of that than the stuffy house on top of the hill where he was supposed to stay. his grades were sinking towards the bottom of the barrel, he was always looking for validation from the bad kids he hung around with and made some very poor decisions in the hopes he’d be liked. in the hopes he’d find a new family.

the partying, the stream of hook ups, his criminal record (mainly with traffic offences, a few write ups for public intoxication and fighting), sobriety, the instability of his living situation and his future all came to boil just before he turned 17. physically he’d started to fill out, and look more like the man people know today. he was no longer frail and no longer weak, and when asked, he used to his fists to forge that path he thought he wanted.

after a dark night, it became apparent to blue that his path of self destruction was hurting no one but himself. whether by choice or by accident, he knew he wasn’t ready to see his mother again. so... he’d hit rock bottom with a spectacular thud. but blue knew the only way to go from there was up.

through nothing short than a McMiracle (sponsored by Ronald McDonald, bc no one else is rich enough to pull it off lmfao) blue managed to scrape by and complete high school.

blue had no doubt his family name (that of his grandparents) helped him secure an athletic scholarship to st etienne. in his year of transformation from 17 to 18 his grandmother had softened to the boy she’d always hated and was riddled with guilt for the years of mistreatment, and promised to pay for his education (that wasn’t covered by his scholarship) as long as he promised to make something of himself. his first year of college, things really started looking up for blue. he was finally back on track.

then woops, grim came a-knocking again

bidding farewell to the grandmother he was only beginning to know, his grandfather had no reason to extend her kindnesses, and cut blue off. at the age of 18 he was homeless, with nothing but a car and a handful of pokemon cards he’d had as a kid. not worth anything or even particularly sentimental, he just likes pokemond kgfjfd.

living in his car for a while before eventually crashing with a close friend, blue managed to absorb his days in study and in work. he quickly found his passion in helping kids, and giving them the childhoods that he never got. going into teaching seemed like a no-brainer.

although blue’s wild days are behind him, there are some things locked in his past that still haunt him. there are doors he never hopes to open again. but he got his fresh start, and is determined to live the life a young blue would have wanted for him, and one his mother could be proud of.

then the grim reaper came back a third time, his scythe begging for daisey rutherford.

the investigation.

blue’s connection to daisey is that they danced in ballet classes together... as you can imagine, daisey had to put on her Evil Training Wheels somewhere and unfortunately, blue was one of her earliest victims. teased constantly for his appearance, his love of ballet, his lack of wealth, and on awful days, his single parent household.

for the most part blue had grown resilient in ignoring these comments. but he never forgot how daisey mistreated him, and sparked a wave of similar comments from people in their year when they were only children.

hey now im not gonna rEVEAL (bc what if he is ??? :o ) anything relating to the crime if he was the murderer, but know he is Lorge and Strong and could probably push daisey over with his finger lmfao

it’s also worth noting that one of daisey’s parents, a beloved surgeon, treated blue’s mother whilst she was in hospital with cancer. the late detection of its return is what caused her death, and blue has been vocal in his blame in the rutherford family for the loss of the person closest to him ever since.

now i’m not saying blue did anything... but if he did, his ‘eye for an eye’ motive ? maybe not as crazy as you may think. especially when you consider your boi already has a criminal record. ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

plots.

atm i am still working on blue’s blob and getting his stats/connections page up BUT !! here are a few fun lil plots beyond his skeleton connections that i’d absolutely love to explore.

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS - blue grew up in ashmont, and didn’t have a lot of friends kfgjfd. if your muse would have been down for a Young Memey Mess that’s fond of a pirouette, blue is your Man. on the flip side, if your muse is one of the Cool Kids and is looking for potential animosity, i’d love someone who tried to squash blue like a bug in their youth (~:

FLIRTATIONSHIP - blue is currently in a (hidden) relationship, and for the first time in his life, gasp, might have feelings. but he’s a fucking walnut and refuses to admit that, so a plot of someone with an unrequited crush, a fun flirtationship, or even someone that just wants to be his wingman would not only be fun, but also incredibly painful - which is what we deserve. 8) (also note, blue is bisexual so any muse would work. <3)

COWORKERS - blue works as a trainer at the ashmont fitness centre ( .... dont @ maaria for the page not being done fgjdgkdf WE ARE IN THE PROCESS OF UPDATING THE PAGES NOW KDFJGDKFJ). but i’d always be down for plots in the workplace !!

UBER - sorry for the lame ass name lmao but dkjfgfkd blue is not about the party scene anymore ( lowkey bc he’s afraid to get addicted again and throw away everything he’s worked so hard for). but he does care a lot about people, and a pal of his is v much still hooked to that lifestyle and he very dkfgjdf determinedly drives them home every time to ensure they’re safe. could be former party friends, could be current friends in some capacity. maybe there was an incident in their past that blue feels guilt over ( a fight perhaps, trigger warning - maybe an overdose?) and so now he looks after them. or even just having a sibling-like bond, which (as blue is an only child) i’d also love something like that!

STUDY BUDDY - blue is a moron and needs someone to help him not fail kdfjgdf. he may not be naturally adept at getting good grades, but unlike many, he’s trying his absolute hardest. in return, he’s more than happy to be your Meme Dealer. bonus points if it’s unlikely friends, or if they didn’t exactly get along at first. :D

FELLOW FOOTBALLERS - 2 bros sitting in a hot tub five feet apart bc they’re not gay. dkjgdgdf but for REAL. exploring the team dynamic of the football team would be so fun, especially with blue’s reputation and the fact he only started taking up the sport when he was about 15-16, which may be a lot later than other guys in the team.

RIVALS - god they’re probably rivals about memes and i hate that but that’s just what it is :/

it’s super late here (for me anyway, as i’m a certified Grandpa ™ so any time after 9pm is basically 3am to me lmfao) but i know these connections aren’t the best that ever was dfkjgdf but i am so excited to plot and come up with things that fit our muses !! if anything in this intro sparked an interest, one of the connections are intriguing, or you’d just like to plot and see what happens, please give this post a like and i’ll come to you !! i will get back to you all tomorrow when im awake aest time, but for now dkjgkfdfg yOU DESERVE COOKIES FOR READING THROUGH THIS ABODIMABLE MESS. i am literally so excited to plot with you all fjdgfd after reading your apps i hOPE I AM WORTHY. so please leave a like on this bad boy and you will find a message on your tumblr tomorrow. (~:

#veritasintro #<3 #i am about to head to bed but i will respond to any and all messages tomorrow !! <3 #GOD IF YOU READ THROUGH ALL OF THIS YOU ARE A SAINT

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the--blackdahlia · 5 years

Text

This Life Chapter 12

Title: This Life Chapter 12

Summary: Dean Winchester is the Vice President of the motorcycle club The Hunters. After almost 7 years in prison, he's free. But things have changed and Dean has to figure out how to put things back together.

Warnings: Language, violence, attempted suicide

AN: Thank you the always lovely @sams-serialkiller-fetish ! The song for this chapter is Nothing Else Matters by Metallica.

Dean couldn’t be sure if what he heard was real or not. He had taken a strong blow to the head in the past twenty-four hours. He turned to look back at Sam, who was looking at him.

“What...what did you just say?” Dean asked. Sam shook his head. “Samuel…”

“I said….I said I tried to kill myself. And dad and I had a talk and…” Sam couldn’t even finish before he was being pulled into a hug. Dean had never been a hugging type person, but Sam was, and Dean just learned to accept it. But right then, Dean was sure they both needed it.

“What happened?” Dean asked, moving back but staying within reach of Sam. Because after Sam’s confession, he didn’t see a young adult with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Instead, he saw a little kid putting on his dad’s vest so he could be big like his brother and daddy. Sam sighed.

“I was coming back from class…”

****

Late 2001

European history ran late due to the professor getting distracted at every turn. So Jessica would already been gone to her nursing practice and theory class before heading over to her parent’s for the weekend. Sam got off the bus and walked the rest of the way to the apartment they shared in St. Claire Gardens. It was a nice night and Sam didn’t mind walking. It helped him stay in shape, even though Jessica sometimes said he worked out more than enough. As he made his way to their front door, something seemed off. Reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulled out the small pocket knife he always kept on him. He might be 6’4” and was pretty much pure muscle, but people were still fucked up.

Sam quietly made his way inside, looking for anything out of place. He walked into the living room as the tacky lamp in the corner flicked on.

“Hey son.” John said, sitting in the comfy reading chair that Jessica’s dad had given them from his study. Sam went to the little table that held the landline and the notepad and ripped open the drawer, pulling out the Magnum they kept there. Just in case. “Sam, is that anyway to greet your old man?”

“My dad is dead.” Sam sneered. “We buried him. Who the fuck are you?” John stood up and made his way to Sam.

“The safety’s on son.” John said. Sam looked at the gun, only to have it knocked out of his hand and himself being pushed up against the wall. “Sam, it’s me.”

“H-how?” Sam asked. John let go of Sam and backed up. “I mean, you and Bill…” John explained the story to him as they set down. “Oh my god.”

“I wasn’t going to bug you. But I’ve heard the Horsemen have been sniffing around Northern California. And I wanted to give you a warning.” John said, adjusting the vest he was wearing. It had once housed his patches for the Hunters. But since they all thought he was dead, then he wasn’t a Hunter anymore.

“What does it matter to me?” Sam asked. “I’m not in a club or anything like that. I’m just a law student.”

“But you’re my son.” John told him. “And they tried to kill me and I’m pretty sure they set Dean up. So it wouldn’t surprise me if they tried to come after you to get to me.”

“But if they think you’re dead…” Sam said.

“It doesn’t matter. Because my heart and soul is in Wolfpine. They want to bring down the hunters. And since Jim, Caleb, and Bobby love you like you were theirs, I’m sure that killing you would end the Hunters.” Sam just set there, taking it all in. He had flown back to Texas months ago to bury his dad and a man that was like an uncle to him. But his dad was here. Yeah, he looked beat to hell and tired, but he was here.

“I…” Sam didn’t know what to say.

“Why don’t you come out to Bakersfield this weekend?” John suggested. “I want you to meet the club.”

“The club?” Sam asked.

“Wayward Sons. Even though, just a warning, don’t get Ruby started on the name.” John said.

“Ruby?” Sam asked. “Who?”

“You’ll see.” John stood up and handed Sam a piece of paper. “That’s the address and a couple numbers to call if you need it. Just come on out.” With that, John walked out.

And, against Sam’s better judgement, he was making the four hour drive to Bakersfield early the next morning. He didn’t have a class until Monday afternoon, so that helped. Bobby kept money in Sam’s bank account to help with expenses, even though Sam wanted to make an honest way of living.

It was Saturday morning when John introduced Sam to the club. The girls both fawned over Sam. Lucifer and Gabriel were pretty civil, Gabriel assuring John that Lucifer had been taking his meds, even if he hadn’t. And Andy and Sam bonded pretty quickly.

“We’d like to invite you to the club.” John said over dinner that night. “We won’t even make you prospect in.”

“Lucky dog.” Meg laughed, punching Sam’s arm.

“I don’t think that’d be a good idea.” Sam said. “I’m not club material. Bobby tried to get me to stay in Wolfpine with the Hunters. And I told him no.”

“But Sam…” Andy started, but Sam shook his head.

“I think I should get going. I have a thing to do tomorrow.” Sam lied, standing up. John stood up.

“Sam, come on.” John said.

“I’ll see you later dad.” Sam left quickly, driving back up to Palo Alto. John had left a couple messages on the voicemail at the apartment and had called his phone, but he pretended that his Nokia with the burnt orange faceplate was too out of range to get any service. Sam wanted no part of anything club related. Hunters, Wayward Sons, anything.

Sunday, he went out for breakfast at a diner just outside of campus. He was craving biscuits and gravy, but he really didn’t feel like making that big of a meal for just one person. So instead, he settled himself in a back booth and read something for school while he waited on his food. He was about three paragraphs in when he felt someone sit in the seat across from him.

“Dad, I told you…” Sam said, looking up. He froze then. It wasn’t John sitting across from him. But instead, the original founder and president of the Horsemen.

“Hello Sam.” Cain said. Sam tensed up, moving back some. “Relax kid. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not a Horsemen anymore. Those fucking princes drove me out of my own club.”

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked. The waitress came by and Cain ordered a coffee and pancakes to go.

“I just came to give you a friendly warning.” He said. “I always had a soft spot for you and your brother. You were good kids. It was such a shame that our clubs couldn’t get along.”

“I’m not in a club.” Sam said. Cain nodded.

“So I’ve heard. But the Horsemen don’t care.” He told him. “They’re planning something. Something big. They want to send a message back home to your family in Wolfpine. And I heard your old man is dead and big brother is serving time. The Hunters can’t take another hit.”

“Why would you warn me?” Sam asked.

“I told you. I like you and your brother.” Cain said. “I don’t know what the Horsemen are planning, or when they’re planning on doing it. I just know they have your name and they’re looking for you. And they have a reputation for fire.” Cain got up then. “You can do what you want with what I just told you Sam. But it might be a smart idea to get in touch with another club. SAMCRO offers protection for a price, but Clay is a bit of an ass. There’s a new club on the horizon that might help you out. Or maybe you should go home.”

“I’m not running.” Sam said. “I’m not scared of the Horsemen.”

“Then may God have mercy on your soul.” Cain said. He headed to the counter then to get his order as the waitress gave Sam his food.

Jessica came home that night. Sam didn’t tell her about what he had discovered over the weekend. Instead, he cooked dinner with her and they watched an episode of Friends. Jessica got up the next morning for class and Sam’s life seemed to return to normal. Until Wednesday afternoon when he left his Spanish class and he saw two motorcycles parked across the street.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked as he walked up to them. Andy and John were standing there, waiting on him.

“We came to have lunch with you.” Andy said. Sam eyed him and John.

“That’s all. Promise.” John said. Sam didn’t believe him, but he was hungry. Sam drove his car and Andy and John were on their bikes, heading over to a restaurant not too far from campus. There was no pressure to join the club. There was no talk of the club, outside of Andy boosting about the bar and how good of a bartender Ruby turned out to be.

John and Andy followed Sam back to his apartment, just a safety thing. Sam waved goodbye to them and grabbed his keys. Jessica should be home, but you never knew. He made his way to the door when a rustling caught his attention.

That rustling saved his life, because two seconds later, an explosion inside the apartment caught it on fire.

“Jessica!” Sam screamed. He could hear her cries. He tried to get in to save her, but the roar of the motorcycles stopped him and soon, he was pulled back. Everything was in there, since he didn’t think he needed it. Textbooks, phone, phone book, clothes, Jessica. It was all in there and burning as he stood there and watched. As he waited for the fire department come to help.

Three days later, he was sitting in a house outside of Bakersfield. One that John taken taken over when he went out west and Andy had moved in to to get himself off the streets. He hadn’t spoken in three days and John didn’t really blame him.

“I have business I have to attend to.” John said. “Watch out for him.”

“I will.” Andy said. Sam had been drinking and was currently asleep up in the room that John and Andy had gave him. He had stopped crying at the end of the first night and had taken to drinking the second and third day. Now he was sleeping, and John was fucking thankful.

About an hour or so after John left, Andy heard the sound of a motorcycle revving up. He ran to the front door to see Sam speeding off on it.

“Son of a bitch!” Andy growled. He grabbed the keys to the GMC that they used when they had a lot of supplies or didn’t want to use the bikes. He dialed John’s cell phone as he ran out to the truck.

“What is it Andy?” John asked.

“Sam just fucking stole my bike and is heading west.” Andy said. “He doesn’t look good John.”

“Shit Andy! I told you to watch him!”

“He was upstairs! He must have climbed out or something.” Andy started up the truck and backed out of the driveway. He headed the way that Sam went.

“I’ll see if I spot him.” John said. “Just keep an eye out.”

“Yes sir.” Andy said. He hung up and started searching. John finished up his business and headed out to find Sam. And he found him before Andy did. At a lonely little park way out in the middle of nowhere. It had been put there back when people thought that this area would be expanded and the perfect suburban community. But now people just came out here to screw or if they wanted to be alone.

And John was pretty sure it wasn’t the former for his son.

“Sam.” John said. He noticed a half empty bottle of Johnny Walker on the ground next to Sam as he leaned against the tree. He looked drained and miserable. Much how John looked as he set on a couch in Bobby’s house with a four year old and a six month old after their mother died.

“Just go away.” Sam said. John shook his head.

“I can’t do that.” He said. “Not with you like this.”

“Just let me do this in peace.” Sam said.

“And what’s that?” John asked. He saw the flash of metal then as Sam picked up a gun and laid it in his lap. “Samuel…”

“Don’t tell Dean this is the way I went out.” Sam begged. “I don’t want him to think of me this way.”

“And you think I’m going to just leave you here to do this and then tell your brother in ten years or so when he asks what happened that you died in a random mugging or something and it just slipped my mind? I don’t think so.”

“Just go!” Sam screamed. He picked up the gun, ready to place it against his head, when he got a punch to the face, making him drop it.

“I’m not standing by and watching my youngest son kill himself.” John hissed. “I’ve lost your mother. I watched your brother go to prison. I’ve lost my club, my home. I’m not losing you too.” He pulled sam to him, wrapping his arms around him. “It’ll be okay Sammy. I promise.”

That night, Andy was pacing the living room, worried. He hadn’t found Sam and he didn’t know where he was or if he was even still alive. That’s when John and Sam pulled into the driveway and made their way inside. Sam had a bruise on his cheek from John punching him. And he was exhausted. He didn’t know that John and Andy took turns that night, watching to make sure he stayed in his room this time.

The next day, Sam joined Wayward Sons.

The day after that, they voted him as the vice president.

****

Present

Dean didn’t know what to say. So much information had been given to him in the past twenty-four hours and he was struggling to process it all. He risked a glance over at Sam and saw more of the same. Sam holding it all in, trying to keep it all together. Just like he had grown up watching his dad and brother do.

“Sammy.” Dean said. “Come on man, look at me.” Sam looked over at Dean, expecting the same pitying look that he had gotten from others. Instead, he saw fear of losing his brother and anger that he hadn’t been there when he needed him the most.

“I need to get back inside. I’ve got things to do tomorrow.” Sam stood up and stretched. “And I’m assuming you and Benny will be heading back to Texas in the morning.” Dean followed Sam inside.

“Yeah, about that…” Dean watched Sam. “I’m not leaving unless you’re going back with me.”

“Dean, I can’t.” He said. “I have a duty.” Dean looked at Sam’s vest and realized something about the patches. There was one that Dean had that he knew Sam shouldn’t have.

Men of Mayhem.

Sam had killed someone in the name of the club.

Dean stood there wide eye as Sam made his way back in.

His Sam wasn’t so little anymore, and he had grown up to be just like him.

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @i-would-die-for-woodland-demars @dekahg @marvel-af @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogaruke @xxwarhawk

Dean Winchester/Jensen Ackles Tags: @luciathewinchestergirl @sheris532 @bobasheebaby @flamencodiva @bella-ca

This Life Tags: @soulslaststand @jamielea81 @caplansteverogers @becs-bunker @supernaturalwincestsblog @colie87

Supernatural Tags: @bandobsession98 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @fangirlsencyclopaediaofweirdness @ilovetardis @missihart23

#this life #sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #john winchester #Jensen Ackles #Jared Padalecki #fanfiction

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little-fandom · 6 years

Text

Strong At The Broken Places - Chapter IX

Magnus and Alec find out what Clary's mystrious rune stands for. Later, with the others they seem to fiugre out Jonathan's plan, which sends Magnus' mind to think about his father…

read on ao3

Magnus spends the whole morning looking through even more books. As soon as Alec left for the Institute he seated himself on the couch with the biggest cup of coffee he managed to find.

As for now, he still hasn’t found anything. He’s cursing himself for having that much books and all of the other sources. Sure, it’s helpful, but now…he just wants to find what he’s looking for.

He’s sure he’s seen that rune before. It has some connection to Edom, but that doesn’t really narrow his area of searching.

Edom is not only the most known dangerous realm of hell, but also his father’s home. When he banished him… some kind of Magnus just wanted to keep a part of him. Maybe it was his demonic part, but he’s still half human, he can’t shut his emotions down. And he’s still his father. The only biological family he has left.

So he got all the sources about Edom he could reach, reading through them more than once. He’s imagined his father there. The books he owns also contain descriptions of Asmodeus. But Magnus can’t always agree with them. Asmodeus wasn’t always awful. Or at least Magnus thinks so. He did loved his mother, some part of him was even devastated after her death, when he took Magnus in. But still he left her alone to raise him back there, with no information on who he truly is.

In some sick way he cared about Magnus. Maybe still does? But if he did, would he take something so important from his own son?

“Hi” Alec’s soft voice pulls him out of his thoughts.

He’s standing in the doorway to the living room, leaning against the frame, bags full of takeout containers in his hands.

“What are you doing here? You’ve just left…” As Magnus says those words his eyes wander to the clock on the wall and he notices how much time has passed. He got so caught up in his work didn’t realize it’s already afternoon.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” Alec resorts as he makes his way to the room, dropping the bags on the table and putting away a few books, so he can sit on the couch next to his boyfriend.

“Forgot what? What are you talking about?” Magnus asks surprised.

“We were settled for lunch, for just about…” Alec looks at the clock. “now.”

Shit, Magnus did forget. They were supposed to go out and get lunch. They literally just talked about this in the morning. And now he forgot…

“I’m so sorry, angel.” He says and kisses Alec softy so the younger man smiles. “I got caught up in all this…” Magnus gestures at the mess of books and papers around them.

“Hey, it’s fine.” Alec claims and moves to place another kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. “Actually, I expected this to happen, so I brought lunch with me.” He smiles and starts to put out the containers, as Magnus moves away a few more books.

“You truly are the best my darling.”

Alec went for Ethiopian and Magnus thinks his boyfriend must own some mind reading abilities, because he’s been craving it for almost a week.

They’re settled on the couch, almost finishing their food, while Alec is telling him how are they things going back at the Institute.

“The Silent Brothers came in the morning.”

“Did they manage to get anything?” Magnus asks taking one last bite from his container.

“Not really.” Alec starts. “They’ve only established that this is the spell that will wear off, but they don’t know what is it, or what kind of magic was used on her. Only that the magic is starting to feel less present, so when it will be gone completely, Clary will wake up.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, sure.” Alec sighs and puts his empty box away. “I just wish we knew something more.”

They’re all still worried. Clary is back, but Jonathan is out there, back in New York it seems and he can attack anytime. They don’t know what made him show up now, or why did he send the demons to attack the Institute. They’re only hope to find something out is Clary, when she wakes up and will be ready to talk.

“I know, angel.” Magnus puts his hand on Alec’s thigh in a reassuring gesture. “But first we need to wait till Biscuit wakes up.” Alec smiles a little at him. “Did you find any sign of Jonathan?”

“No, not yet.” Alec shakes his head. “We called in Lorenzo to seal the rift, but found nothing at its surroundings. It’s like he disappeared in the thin air again.”

Alec sighs again and Magnus mirrors the gesture.

“What about you?” Alec starts. “Any luck?” He gestures with his head to the coffee where Magnus’ current work is settled.

“Not yet.” Magnus turns another page from the books he’s been flipping through. “The Silent Brothers didn’t know what the rune stands for?”

“No, they just said the same as you, that it’s full of demonic magic.”

“I’m so sure I’ve seen it… but maybe it just reminds me of something…”

Magnus starts to doubt himself now. He’s been so sure but… what if he doesn’t find it? Everyone is counting on him, and what if he’s been mistaken the whole time?

“Hey” Alec says gently cupping Magnus’ face between his palms. “If you said you’ve seen it, I believe you. Just look around.” He gestures at all the resources Magnus pulled out to look through today. “There’s a lot of stuff here. We’ll find it. I have two hours before another meeting, so I’ll stay and help.”

“Darling, you don’t need to-“

“It’ll be faster.” Alec interrupts. “And besides, I want to.”

Magnus smiles and pecks him lightly on the lips. Then Alec gets up to quickly clean up after their lunch and settles back with a book to go through.

Another half of an hour and three books later, Magnus turns another page and can’t believe his eyes. The mark on the picture looks exactly the same as the one he took a photo of.

“Alec, look.”

“Mhm?” Alec’s head shoots up from the book he’s been currently occupied with. “By, the Angel Magnus.” He exclaims when he notices what Magnus is starring at.

“It’s exactly the same.” Magnus states as he traces the rune with his fingers.

“What does it say about it?” Alec points at the book, and Magnus realizes it’s in an ancient language so Alec can’t understand a word.

Magnus reads through it, quickly translating the words in his head. But he doesn’t like what he’s coming up with.

Alec clearly notices the look creeping up on his boyfriend’s face as he asks.

“What is it?”

“This mark it’s… it somehow connects two souls….”

“Like the Parabatai bond?” Alec questions not noticing anything bad about just yet, because he doesn’t know the next part.

“Yes, kind of… but it’s worse.”

“Worse?” Alec’s expression turns confused. “What do you mean?”

Magnus lets out a long exhale and starts explaining.

“It binds two souls with stronger force. If one is injured, the other is as well, and when one dies, both die.”

Alec looks like he tries to wrap his head around this, but still it’s not the whole thing, so Magnus continues.

“It’s not the worst part. ‘One individual is superior to the other and is capable of impressing upon the other member his thoughts and feelings.’” Magnus quotes the exact words from the book and as he says it out loud it sounds even worse.

Alec stays silent for a few minutes. Magnus can almost see the thoughts coursing through his mind in his eyes.

“So, you say…” He starts hesitantly. “That Clary is bind to Johnathan with this demonic bond?”

“It seems like it, yes.”

When Alec puts it that way, it sounds more dreadful than Magnus thought.

Alec exhales heavily as he rubs his forehead.

“I need to call Jace.” He states and gets up from the couch.

“Wait,” Magnus stops him with is hand on his forearm. “Let’s go back to the Institute and call the others. We can tell them back there.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I’ll call Luke, you reach Simon.”

“Okay.”

When they tell the others about what they’ve found it doesn’t sound any better.

Jace is looking down on the mark itself on Clary’s collarbone, while the others exchange worried and fearful glances.

“So this literally binds her life with Jonathan’s?” Simon asks, just to make it all clear. He’s seated on Clary’s side, opposite Jace. Isabelle is right next to him, holding his hand.

“Yes.” Is all Magnus can manage, because what else is there to say, when you find out your friend’s life is bind to some monster.

“The book doesn’t say anything on how to break this bond?” Luke questions from his spot at the foot of Clary’s bed. Maryse is running her hand up and down his back in reassuring gesture, which doesn’t seem to help a lot. Luke is still tensed, as he meets Magnus’ gaze, his eyes practically begging him to give him a good answer.

Magnus’ words can’t seem to pass his throat under Luke’s sight.

“We didn’t find anything here, but we’re still searching.” It’s Alec who answers, clearly seeing that Magnus is struggling.

Luke’s gaze drops from Magnus’ face, but not fast enough for him to notice the tears glistening in his eyes.

“We can’t lose hope.” Alec speaks again. “At least we know what that thing means, now we need to wait for Clary to wake up and-“

“And then what?!” Luke snaps. “This bastard can literally affect her thoughts and feelings, who knows what he put into her head!”

“Luke, I know this is hard-“ Magnus starts, but Luke cuts him short.

“No you don’t Magnus! She’s my daughter and now… I-, I can’t even…” Luke puts his head in his hands to hide the tears.

“Let’s just all calm down.” Maryse resorts, her hand still on Luke’s back.

Luke has always been the calmest of them all, and if he is losing his nerve, the situation needs to be really tough. They all sit in silence for quite some time, as everyone tries to wrap their hands about this new information.

Magnus will go through all his books again, if it means he finds even a little something to help Clary. But still, there isn’t much they can do. Luke is right. What if Jonathan put some awful things in Clary’s mind, what if he somehow changed her feeling towards any of them…

Magnus sighs, but relaxes a little as he feels Alec’s arm around his waist. He turns his head to face him, and Alec whispers to him.

“I need to go now, the meeting is starting in two minutes.”

Magnus exhales heavily and his head falls on Alec’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I hate to do this, but the Clave is watching me precisely, and if I mess up-“

“I know, darling I understand.”

He really hates for Alec to leave now. Today’s news has done nothing but put them down a bit more. And Alec’s presence always feels soothing for Magnus. But he does understand. And as much as he dislikes it now, he knows Alec needs to do everything to keep his position. He just got it back and it’s better for all of them to keep it this way.

“Come and get me if anything happens.” Alec states as he looks into Magnus’ eyes, with a serious expression.

“But the meeting-“

“It’s not that important.” Alec replies. “So if anything happens, anything okay? Just get me.”

“Of course, love.” Magnus replies and smiles softly. “Go.”

He hears Alec mumble an ‘okay’ under his breath as he turns to leave.

He considers going back to the loft, but can’t quite tear himself away from Clary. Alec’s still at his meeting, which seems to go for hours now. Maryse left with Luke to cool him of a bit, when Jace and Izzy went to training to blow of some steam. Which leaves Magnus with an unusually quiet Simon.

He still sits at the same spot beside Clary, hand lightly brushing her hair from her face.

“I wish she would just wake up.” He says after a while.

“She will, Simon. It’s gonna be fine.” Magnus tries to comfort him.

“But what are we going to do then?”

Magnus really wishes he had an answer for this question. He hates seeing all of his loved ones still suffering. Clary’s return brought back a new wave of energy and strength to keep going, but now it all seems to wear off.

At least he has them. He’s so happy to consider them his family. Before Alec came into his life, he never really thought he could have this. Then it was he and Alec, he became his family. But slowly everyone close to Alexander became close to him. Accepted him.

And now he can’t do anything to help them.

Suddenly Simon’s phone beeps in his pocket and he smiles sadly looking down on it. Magnus turns to him in question.

“It’s from Maia.” Simon answers. “She says to give everyone her best.”

“How is she doing?” Magnus asks. He spoke to her a few times after she left. It’s still weird to go to the Hunter’s Moon and not see her at the bar. But he respects her choice to leave. She clearly has her own troubles to figure out on her mind now.

“She’s okay, I guess.” Simon shoves his phone back into his pocket. “Told me to inform her about everything happening here, but she doesn’t really plan on coming back soon. Everything still feels too fresh.”

“Must be hard for you.”

“Why?” Simon questions surprised.

“Well, you know-“

“Oh, I mean…” Simon interrupts him. “If you mean that, we broke up a few weeks ago.”

“Simon, I’m sorry.” Magnus' eyes widen a bit it shock, as he feels taken aback at this information. He thought they were doing just fine, but seems like he didn’t see the big picture.

“It’s okay. I understand why she needed to leave, i still suport her in this decision. I hope she'll get everything figured out. We both kinda decided it’s better this way. When both of us have so much going on right now long distance relationships can get hard.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

Simon raises his brows at him in question.

“Simon, I’m hundreds years old, believe me I’m experienced.”

Simon chuckles and smiles lightly, which makes Magnus happy that he somehow managed to make the Vampire feel a bit better.

“Well seems like you won’t have to endure in that any more. I mean, long distance. I don’t think Alec is going anywhere.”

“And neither am I.” Magnus states with a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

They sit in silence after that, but content smiles are written on their faces now. At least it’s something, Magnus thinks. A few minutes later the doors to the infirmary burst open and Alec is entering the room.

“Hey,” he says as he sits down next to Magnus and gives him a quick kiss. “Anything new?”

Magnus just shakes his head.

“How was the meeting?”

“Boring.” Alec answers with a chuckle. “I certainly didn’t miss that part.”

Magnus smiles as he settles his head on Alec’s shoulder and looks back down on Clary. But Alec’s gaze seems to wander somewhere else.”

“What?” Alec asks Simon and Magnus notices, that the vampire has been staring at them.

“Nothing,” Simons answers quickly. “You’re just… I get this kind of peaceful feeling looking at you.”

“What?” Alec repeats with a laugh now.

“With everything happening around us…” Simon continues. “It’s good to see some things don’t change.”

At that they both smile at Simon, and Magnus leans a little bit more onto Alec, as he feels his hand wandering around his waist.

And he never wants it to change.

People come and go, and soon everyone is back at the infirmary. Magnus and Alec moved from their spot to the bed opposite of Clary’s, so Jace and Luke with Maryse by his side could get closer to her. Izzy settles on her previous place next to Simon. They sit in silence now. Alec is playing with Magnus’ fingers, and he looks down at their joined hands and smiles.

Suddenly, there is a sharp sound of inhaling and all eyes turn to Clary.

Magnus wants to get closer, but as he stands and takes the first step, he feels Alec lightly putting his hand on his forearm.

“Let’s give her some space.” He whispers and Magnus nods in agreement.

Then Clary’s eyes snap open, and Magnus didn’t know how much he missed those green orbs. The room seems to get filled with a sound of breath of relieve, that everyone probably let's you.

“Clary…” He hears Jace’s voice and doesn’t even need to look at him to be sure there are tears gathering in his eyes.

“What… where am I? Clary’s voice is hoarse and weak.

“It’s alright kiddo, you’re back at the Institute, at the infirmary.” Luke assures her as he puts his hand lightly on hers.

“How?” Is all she manages before her voice stops working. Simon is instant gives her a glass of water which she gladly takes.

They tell her about how they found her. But not all at once. Jace is the one he speaks mostly, only Isabelle chiming in sometimes. Clary eyes them all curiously, but doesn’t say anything, just listens.

When they’re finished and she still doesn’t speak, it’s Luke who asks.

“Clary, how are you feeling? Are you okay?”

“I don’t…” She starts. “I don’t remember.”

“What?”

“I don’t remember anything. The last thing I remember is being on that rooftop and Jonathan catching my wrist.”

All eyes turne worried again, and Clary looks at them all confused.

“Clary…” Magnus starts carefully. “That was more than a month ago.”

“By the Angel I-“ Clary’s eyes widen in shock and her hand wanders to her collarbone. “This. She somehow bind me to Jonathan.”

It only fully confirms their discovery from the morning.

“What happened?” Clary asks. “I mean, a month I-, where… and Jonathan-“

“Clary calm down.” Izzy says, her tone gentle. “We’ll figure it out. Right now you need to rest.”

“I’m fine.” She states, but everyone eyes her carefully. “Seriously guys I’m good, nothing hurts. It’s just like I’ve woke up from a deep sleep.”

There’s a moment of silence before where everyone tries to gather their thoughts and then she speaks again.

“Guys I’m so glad you’re all fine.” She exhales shakily. “Simon…” She turns to him and hugs him tightly. There are tears falling down his cheeks and Magnus is sure he can her Clary whisper ‘thank you’ into his hair.

When they pull back, she wipes his tears delicately and turns to Jace.

“Jace…”

“Clary, I’m so sorry.” Jace interrupts her, but then he’s in her arms and they both burst into tears. Magnus smiles lightly at the sight of them, finally reunited. Even though in tears, they clutch onto each other tightly, just letting go. Only needing each other.

“Let’s give them some time alone.” Maryse whispers and everyone moves to get out of the room.

“I’ll organize a meeting with the Silent Brothers again. Maybe they will be able to restore Clary’s memories somehow.” Alec says as the all settles into his office. All, apart from Jace and Clary who are still back in the infirmary.

Alec is sitting at his desk, while Magnus stands next to him, his hand around his boyfriend’s shoulders. The others are seated on the couch in front of them.

“They didn’t do much the last time…” Luke says bitterly.

“I know,” Alec continues calmly. “But what other choices to we have? Besides, this is a different department now.”

Everyone nods. But then Simons speaks hesitantly.

“But do we really wanna do that?” All eyes turn to him.

“What do you mean, Simon?” Isabelle asks.

“You know, Jonathan might have made her done terrible things. What if she doesn’t want to remember?”

“Simon, it’s Clary’s choice to make.” Magnus starts. “But we should call in the Silent Brothers anyway. See if they can even do anything.”

“Okay, let’s do that.” Simon replies. “Do you think we can go back to Clary now?”

“Let’s give them another minute.” Alec says. He draws his stele and already sends a fire message to the Silent Brothers.

“Yeah, a minute.” Simon repeats as he fidgets on the couch. “I can totally handle a minute. It’s just… it’s nothing…like a, um- like-“

“All right Simon, go!” Alec exclaims and adds the next part in a whisper. “Just please stop talking.”

Simon smiles and quickly gets up from the couch, so the next second he’s out of the office. Isabelle sighs and then gets up too.

“I’ll go make sure he doesn’t break anything on his way.”

Alec nods at her and then she leaves the room.

A few minutes later a fire message appears on Alec’s desk. His eyes quickly scan through it and then he quickly sums it up for the rest.

“The Silent Brothers will arrive within an hour.”

“We’ll let Clary know.” Luke and Maryse settle to leave the office.

When they’re gone Alec exhales heavily, turns to face Magnus and pulls him down onto his lap. Magnus smiles slightly and wraps his hands around his boyfriend’s neck.

“How are you doing?” He asks stroking the hair at the nape of his neck.

“A bit tired, but not so bad. You?” His arms wander around Magnus’ waist.

“I’m good, but still worried. Clary seems fine for now, but what if it’s some part of his plan?” Magnus confesses his worries. “For what we know, Jonathan can control her.”

“You’re right.” Alec agrees. “But let’s see what the Silent Brothers will say.”

Magnus nods and pulls him a bit closer, so Alec’s head is resting on his shoulder.

“I should let the Inquisitor know about Clary." Alec says after a while. “But I don’t want to yet. She’s just woke up, I don’t want her to face the Clave till we figure out something more.”

“So don’t.” Magnus replies combing his hand through his hair. “You’re the boss here.”

“But what if the Clave finds out?” Alec pulls back lightly to look at him. “She said she wanted to speak with Clary. And I’m under supervision-“

“Alexander,” Magnus tries for a comforting tone. “It’ll be fine. Let’s see what we figure out tonight, and then you can call this in.”

Alec sighs and puts his head back on Magnus’ chest.

“How come you’re always right?” He murmurs into his shirt.

“Years of experience, my darling.” Magnus answers with a smile.

They’re waiting in front the Infirmary for the Silent Brothers to finish examine Clary. She did agreed to have her memories returned, claiming it will help them find Jonathan. The demonic rune hasn’t shown any examples of how the connection works yet. Which is both good and bad.

The Silent Brothers claimed they can restore her memories, which leaves the others where they are now. Waiting.

“What is taking them so long?” Jace questions as he’s pacing back and forth through the waiting room.

“Calm down, they’re doing the best they can.” Alec answers him calmly, to which Jace only snorts in impatience. Then the doors burst open and they can hear the Silent Brother voice in their minds telling them to enter. Clary is still sitting on the same bed, still looking confused.

“Did it work?” Luke asks, his sight wandering to the Silent Brother.

“Clarissa Fairchild’s memories has been restored. But the spell was powerful. It might take time for her to fully remember.” The voice sounds in their heads again.

Everyone exhales with relief. It’s more than nothing. Even if Clary can’t remember everything yet, she will at some point.

“Thank you, we do appreciate the help.” Alec speaks, turning to the Silent Brothers.

With that, the they leave the room, and the rest slowly makes their way back to Clary.

“Clary,” Luke starts slowly. “What do you remember?”

She takes a deep breath and tries to focus before she speaks.

“I remember… Paris.” Everyone raise an eyebrow in confusion. “We were there, me and Jonathan. At some club. Some Shadowhunters where there too. And we…By the Angel…” She breaks into sobs and her breathing falls out of motion.

“Hey, it’s okay. Calm down.” Luke’s soothing her lightly.

“We killed them.” She says, eyes full of tears. “All of them. We did so many terrible things. I didn’t want to, he made me-“

“We know, Clary. it’s not your fault.” Jace cuts in.

Everyone’s expressions fall at the news of the dead Shadowhunters. Magnus quickly intertwines his fingers with Alec’s, seeing that his boyfriend needs something to ground on.

“Do you remember anything else?” Luke tries again a bit later, when Clary calms down a little.

“The beach, where you said you found me.” She looks at Jace now and he nods. “We’ve just arrived to New York at that time. He said something about ruling the city. Taking control. Destroying all the Shadowhunters. I was agreeing on everything he said, but… I don’t really know how, I think I realized that this is my home, and you are all here.” Her gaze hoovers over everyone in the room. “And I managed to resist it. I snapped out of it and screamed at him to stop. He seemed surprised, kinda lost control and sent the demons to the Institute. That’s when you found me…”

“He realized you wouldn’t come with him, if you managed to resist the bond and he hit you with some kind of memory erasing spell.�� Isabelle finishes for her.

“Exactly. I think he just panicked.” Is what Clary responds with.

Everyone falls silent again, trying to figure out their next move. Jace settles down next to Clary and takes her hand in his. Clary smiles lightly, but guilt is still present in her eyes.

Magnus doesn’t even want to think about all the thinks Jonathan has made her do. Simon was right, maybe it was better if she didn’t remember. But somehow, now with Jace by her side, Magnus thinks it might bring them closer. They’ve both been in this kind of situation. Jace with Lilith, Clary with Jonathan. None of them is to blame for their faults.

“So we know Jonathan’s plan now.” Alec starts. “He wants to kill all of the Shadowhunters and take control of New York. But why? Aren’t Nephilim his kind?”

“Well Jonathan isn’t actually anyone’s kind.” Jace replies. “He has both angel and demon blood.”

“So why only destroy Shadowhunters?” Isabelle asks.

“I think that after Lilith resurrected him, he feels like he somehow needs to pay his the debt for it.” Clary speaks again. “And since she is the mother of demons he can do it by-“

“Killing every angel blooded creature.” Alec finishes for her. “But how is he planning to do this?”

“He’s more of a demon now. He can control the Asmodei.” Clary turns to him. “And Angel knows what more. He has some connection to Edom, so…”

Magnus flinches at the mention of his father’s home. Alec seems to feel it, because he squeezes his palm lightly.

He thought a lot, whether he should tell the others about Asmodeus. But it just doesn’t feel like the right moment. Besides, he’s still scared how the others will react.

But if Jonathan has connection with Edom, can control Asmodei, and open rifts… What is Asmodeus gets here? But what would he want? Doesn’t he have everything now? Magnus’ magic…

“You okay?” Alec whispers to him, noticing how tensed he got. This terrifies him, but he needs to focus now.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He just whispers back and focuses back on Clary.

“I think he must be getting his power somewhere from there.” Clary continues, “From Edom.”

Alec looks at Magnus with shock in their eyes, like they’re both have the same idea.

Asmodeus.

If he and Jonathan are in some kind of partnership… what if it was his father’s plan all along? Get his power and give it to Jonathan. What if by saving Jace, back that night, he put them all in danger now.

Maybe it is the right moment to tell them.

But before he makes up his mind, a scream tears its way through the infirmary.

All eyes are back at Clary again. Magnus sight hoovers over her, and then he notices blood on Clary’s forearm. Alec quickly calls for a medic, everyone else to shocked and confused at what’s going on.

“What’s happening?” Luke asks, desperate for any answers.

But no one gives him one. They all look at Clary’s forearm where the magical wound seems to appear. If one is injured, the other is as well, Magnus recalls the words from the rune description in his mind. It needs to be Jonathan, he's hurting himself on purpose, only to hurt Clary. At first the wound it’s just a short cut, but then it seems to form into something…

“It looks destined rune.” Isabelle resorts. “But why-“

“It’s Jonathan.” Clary grits through clenched teeth. “He always said we’re destined to be together. He’s trying to send a message.”

“What message?” Simon asks. He looks terrified and confused.

“That he’s coming.”

#malec fic #my writing #shadowhunters #malec #post 3x10 #my take on 3b #Magnus Bane #Alec Lightwood #Clary Fray #Jace Herondale #Isabelle Lightwood #Simon Lewis #Luke Garroway #Maryse Lightwood #angst #fluff

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toumakibangs · 6 years

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This is my family: I found it all on my own. [Part V. Christmas]

SERVICE NOTE: Here we are with the last prompts of the TouMaki Month! I’m so very sorry for the delay, but I went long with writing because of work issues and after that I’ve been without internet for a while (still am, technically)! If you’re reading this, it means that he last fics have been queued and they’re being uploaded as we speak: a post every two hours, from 3pm to 5am, CEST time. My advice is to check the blog if you don’t want to miss any, because if you’re going to browse the tags (‘toumaki month 2018’ and ‘toumaki’), Tumblr will only show you three posts per blog.

Anyway, at 7am CEST time we’ll upload a recap post featuring ALL the entries to the Month, so you can browse them more easily (I’m also saving the final Goodbyes and Thank You-s for then).

My apologies again for the wobbly schedule and I hope you’ll enjoy these last fireworks!

Prompt: “Quiet! They can hear us”

Jules’ Notes: The long-awaited conclusion of our multichaptered SingleDads!AU! :D

The package that Makishima is holding hits the doorframe with a thud and Toudou hisses.

- Quiet! They can hear us!

- They could hear us just fine even an hour ago, but I didn’t see you getting so worked up and worried over that, earlier.

- That’s a lie and you know it!

- I had to press a pillow into your face to muffle the noise.

- It was just. One. Time. Besides, this is different: I would have never wanted to get interrupted by either of our toddlers, but them hearing us during this? It’s going to ruin their Christmas, and I cannot allow it.

Makishima regards him with high eyebrows and a newly found respect.

- Neither can I. Which is why I was trying to be as silent as possible. But evidently I was not silent enough.

- Let me help. They called me Sleeping Beauty in high-school because I could move in perfect silence, especially while dealing with bicycles.

- I asked Arakita and he said they all called you Forest Ninja behind your back.

Toudou loses his composure.

- That’s so lame and absolutely not true!

- Shut up!!! They will hear us!

Toudou slaps his hand over his mouth and lets Makishima take the lead.

It’s Christmas night, Makishima invited Toudou and his child over to celebrate the holiday the Western way and right now they’re leaving tiny, wrapped-up bikes (complete with helmets and training wheels) under the tree for Sakamichi and Sangaku to find, come morning.

They’re also easing their way into a relationship that looks more and more promising as days go by. It’s not the first night they spend together, but it’s the first time they do it with the kids in the house. Said kids are currently sleeping in Sakamichi’s bed (large enough for the two of them), although not out of their own volition: they’ve tried to stay up late to meet Santa, offer him warm milk and biscuits and ask him how he manages to bring presents to all the good children of the world in one night, but sleep won them over a little before 11pm. The parents tucked them in and were planning on setting up the morning scene before retiring into the privacy of Makishima’s bedroom themselves, but someone had to drink the milk and eat the cookies, and the couch was very comfortable, and they had not indulged in some little display of affection for the whole day – so one thing led to another and it wasn’t until late into the night that they got up and retrieved the presents.

The bikes were Toudou’s idea, one that Makishima agreed with wholeheartedly: there were biking circuits at the parks they attended and paths easily accessible in the mountains that the boys would have loved to ride. Engaging in some kind of sport would have done both Sakamichi and Sangaku good, and they had been talking endlessly about bikes since the time they had crossed a bunch of cyclist during their last trip to Hakone. Their enthusiasm for the sport had skyrocketed when they had learned that both their parents were well versed in the art of road racing, and held a special interest in climbing hills. That bit of information had been a pleasant surprise for the adults too, one that had kept them up over a beer or three in Toudou’s apartment one evening when Tadokoro’s sons had invited Sakamichi and Shunsuke for a sleepover and Sangaku was spending the night with Toudou’s sister. They had attested, on that occasion, that both of them indeed sported the leg muscles of people who cycled regularly.

When the bikes are safely nestled under the lower branches of the tree, partially hidden by the garlands and shiny baubles that he and Sakamichi picked together last year to celebrate their first Christmas as a family (but still very much visible for the attentive eyes of over-excited children who are looking for presents), Makishima stands up and offers his hand to Toudou, leading him into his bedroom. He closes the door without making a sound, and gasps softly (more out of pleasure than of surprise) at the warm body suddenly pressed against his back. He trails his fingers over the toned arms loosely draped around his waist and leans back until he only has to turn his head to press his lips on Toudou’s cheek and jaw, making him shiver.

- Hello.

Toudou finds his lips again and Makishima turns into his arms to kiss him in a more comfortable position. It passed virtually no time since they snogged each other on the couch, but the privacy of a bedroom awakens even the most dormant libido and it’s not long since both of them feel the need of make things horizontal and take them onto a mattress. It’s new, this kind of longing: though a late bloomer, Makishima has always been familiar with sexual urges and the craving of an intimate touch, but while in his early twenties, also thanks to an alternate lifestyle and work environment, he’d given in to all of them and indulged in lots of sex, casual and not, now it’s different. He’s not changed in the sense that he’s lost interest in sex, but he’d had other priorities, lately, and found another kind of balance that was too precious to disrupt with flings and too demanding to leave him time for a relationship. But Toudou fitted in that balance because he had stemmed from it, falling into Makishima’s lap when he least expected it, when he’d given up on this side of his life – maybe not for good, but certainly for the time being. Toudou makes his stomach clench and his hands itch, he awakens latent cravings and sates them with an expert touch and no rush. Being with Toudou is comfortable in the way relationships while being a single gay parent never are. Their schedules don’t always match, but they do very often. They both understand when the other has to call off their planned date because his child has an upset stomach, or because the day was just too long. They don’t roll their eyes when the other ends up talking about his kid for most of the time, because they know what it feels like, needing to vent, needing a friendly ear, needing someone that knows what it’s like. Being with Toudou when it’s just the two of them behind closed doors, toddlers safely forgotten for a couple of hours, is satisfying in all the ways that count – fulfilling, even when their evenings don’t end in an orgasm. They haven’t been able to really sleep together many times, so far: there are just so many nights off a single parent can take, but Makishima doesn’t feel sappy to admit they’ve been magical. And magical is this one too, and not only because it’s Christmas.

Makishima tugs him down on the bed and kisses back, soft and pliant, and Toudou rediscovers what it means caring for someone that is not his son. Because Makishima, in a totally different way from Sangaku, rekindles his instinct to protect and care for someone else. For an adult, for an equal, for an independent human being that doesn’t really need a shelter, but you want to provide for anyway – because everyone needs a little pampering every now and then and, above all, because it makes you happy. And it makes Toudou happy indeed, to be wanted like this, to be craved for the man he is. Makishima’s hands on his body are a blessed reminder that he’s still made of flesh and blood, and that he has yet to stop giving on such department. The time they spend together with or without their sons, the laughs they share, the intimacy – he feels like a perpetually starving man whom only these things can sate. Makishima quenches his thirst and eases his mind, holds him up when he feels wobbly and shows him some colour when he feels blue. Makishima reminds him every day that being a single parent doesn’t mean being single in every sense of the word, not to mention alone. Makishima sends sparks through his body and milks it dry like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and it probably is, now that he thinks about it. And it can be even if they both are responsible for two young children with a troubled history. He sleeps better, when he does so with Makishima. He wakes up much more rested, after passing an evening or a couple of hours alone together – and it’s such an addicting sensation that he’s not ashamed to admit he’s been doing everything in his powers to keep feeling it. To make sure nights like this one can be more than a sweet exception.

They didn’t go all the way back in the living room: too risky, and maybe too soon, but they can now – and although they take their sweet time, it almost feels like release comes too soon. It always does, in their opinion. And tonight, more than ever, when they lay back after tidying themselves up (at least one positive thing about having toddlers around is that you’re never out of tissues or wet wipes), half-clothed and drowsy, they feel the bulky and quite cumbersome presence of the elephant in the room. Toudou addresses it and his doubts, but he knows he’s speaking for both of them and maybe, just maybe, he hopes that the night, on virtue of being Christmas and, therefore, holding a magic of its own, will bring the best answers.

- What do we do, now?

Makishima curls up on his left side to mirror Toudou’s stance and look at him.

- About what?

- This. Us.

Makishima sighs and rubs his face and eyes. Toudou instinctively brings up a hand to rub his arm and caress his head. Makishima holds onto it.

- I don’t know, honestly.

- Come here, please.

Makishima rolls into his embrace, but Toudou feels like he’s the one being held and supported – that’s the kind of power Makishima has on him.

- I… I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Maki-chan.

Makishima tenses and Toudou makes a shushing, soothing sound not very different from the ones he uses with Sangaku, when he fusses.

- …d-do you want to quit?

Toudou hugs him tighter.

- No. Quite the contrary, actually. Do you want to quit, now?

Makishima shakes his head, and pulls him closer.

- Not at all. Quite the contrary, if I could have it my way.

They sigh in unison, minds reeling but tension slightly dissipated now that they have implicitly stated they’re on the same page about their feelings for each other.

- What do we do, then?

Makishima kisses him, and although it doesn’t solve the issue it’s still a welcome, not to mention of fundamental importance in order to put things into perspective, interlude.

- Do you think we should tell the kids?

Toudou sighs.

- They will start asking questions, if we keep this up. Better yet, I feel that if we decide we’re being more open about this and more or less officialising it, they should know the truth.

Makishima nods.

- To be honest, I’m more worried about the reaction of all the other people who might hear about this, and how Sakamichi might respond to that.

Toudou kisses his forehead.

- I know what you mean. But it’s not like we don’t have a trusted net of friends and relatives who might have our backs and, by extension, our kids’. I can’t promise everything will always go smoothly, but I’m positive that our children will always have a safe circle of people they can rely on, and they will always know how much they’re loved.

- I really don’t want to disrupt Sakamichi’s life, right now. Or put my selfish needs before his well-being.

Toudou swallows. He’s asked himself the same thing, over and over, in the past weeks: is it being selfish, on a parent’s part, to think about their own chances at happiness?

- I know I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, if my actions directly caused Sangaku harm or distress, after everything he’s been through and after everything we’ve accomplished together.

- Exactly.

- …but I also think that kids can only benefit from their parents’ happiness. I mean… I’m better, when I’m with you. I feel better, afterwards. More energetic, more relaxed. And Sangaku notices. Because I’m better with him too. I certainly smile more.

Makishima squeezes him in an emotional display of agreement.

- If we tell the children and act transparent, spending so much time at each other’s places wouldn’t be so weird or unusual anymore.

- Indeed, it wouldn’t. Although I believe I will have to hold onto my and Manami’s apartment quite tightly: he has developed a routine and it’s given him a stability I wouldn’t have hoped for. He has improved a lot, lately.

- Me too: Sakamichi has got used to his house and his room – he likes it a lot, here, has a sense of belonging. I can’t take that away from him. Certainly not now.

They sigh again, although it has a more melancholic sound to it, now. This time, it’s Toudou who leans in for a kiss.

- It’s not ideal, but I fear it’s the best we can hope for, at the moment.

Makishima agrees and kisses back.

- We’ll make do, for now.

They are woken up by the shrill cries of over-excited children who just found out Santa did indeed leave something for them under the tree – and of course they have to tell their parents first, even if it means barging into Makishima’s bedroom and climbing both on the bed and on top of their respective fathers to jump on their legs until they’re awake. Luckily, they pulled apart during the night, and Sakamichi and Sangaku didn’t catch them in compromising positions.

They get pulled into the living room as soon as they’re awake enough to keep their eyes open for more than three seconds, and once in charge of screaming toddlers running around the sofa and the tree in anticipation, they do indeed forget everything about sleep.

The bikes elicit the intended reaction, and they spend a good part of the early morning mounting all the pieces, taking pictures and checking the weather to promise the children that yes, if they behave and agree on dressing appropriately they can go in the courtyard and try their new bolides after breakfast. Which is a loud and messy affair. But an extremely joyful one, as well.

They manage to have a couple of hours of untainted fun in the open before it starts snowing again, and although they allow the kids to play a little among the snowflakes, it’s soon clear that they’d better get back inside. There’s a little protesting, but the prospect of more presents to open and of a second breakfast made of pancakes is enough to bribe the kids into agreeing.

Sangaku and Sakamichi drew each other Christmas cards at kindergarten, and obviously prepared more elaborate ones for their fathers, full of childish love and devotion and, in Sakamichi’s case, glitter. Toudou and Makishima pretend they don’t see each other’s wet eyes as they thank their kids profusely and coddle them shamelessly.

Toudou has gifted Sakamichi a Love!Hime set of bike decorations and hat, while Makishima got Sangaku a baby-blue backpack for their excursion with tiny angel wings sprouting from the sides. As the children talk excitedly about their new possessions and enjoy the holiday, Toudou touches Makishima’s arm to get his attention.

- Actually, I have something for you too.

It’s a golden necklace that Makishima has mentioned during one of their dates. It’s at the same time perfect and absurd, because Makishima got Toudou a similar one that he, too, noticed during the same date. The instinct is to jump each other’s bones right there right now, but they can’t in front of the kids and settle for helping each other putting on their respective necklaces, although with a little more touching than necessary, maybe.

Then the kids stop playing to look at them, and ask about the presents they’ve just exchanged, because it’s weird for adults to do that, isn’t it?

It takes them just a quick glance to understand and silently agree that yes, this is it, because the atmosphere is perfect, they have the best excuse to introduce the matter and it’s Christmas, which kind of means nothing can go wrong today - therefore this is not only the right moment, but the one and only too. Toudou swallows and clears his throat.

- Sangaku, Sakamichi… – he starts, and he exchanges a pregnant look with Makishima, who smiles at him, takes his hand and nods, giving him courage. The kids look at them expectantly. Toudou takes a deep breath, but Makishima senses his uneasiness and comes to his rescue.

- Boys, there is something we’d like to tell you.

#toumaki month 2018 #submission #toumaki #julesdrenages

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