#just spent two hours shoveling snow off the roof

[comeyeknights]

I hate snow. It's cold and wet and heavy, and it gets everywhere.

#just spent two hours shoveling snow off the roof #because apparently we're getting a big storm tonight! #it is the MIDDLE OF MARCH #there should be DAFFODILS on the ground right now #not FOUR FEET OF SNOW #have you ever tried to walk on four feet of snow? #every second step you break through the crust and sink straight down to your hip #i was not made for this climate

[bomberqueen17]

what year is it

i’m at that point where-- oh, no it’s been a while that i just plain haven’t known what year it was. i lost count somewhere and idk. how old am I? what year is it? we’ll figure it out.

Spent a couple hours the day before yesterday, during which I urgently needed to be working on cleaning my house, instead helping dude’s mom shovel out. she’d been working for hours, slowly, pacing herself-- she’s 70 after all, and in okay shape but not particularly athletic-- and then the plows finally came by and really plowed her in and she called nearly in tears, and Dude was ass-deep in alligators at work and I said, “give me an hour, and I’ll be over.”

So I got an hour’s worth of very necessary cleaning on the guest room, since my sister is staying there on the night of the 1st. I need to do more cleaning though, because of course she’s with her husband and Farmkid, who will be one day away from turning 9, and is like five feet tall, so they don’t all fit in that one guest bed and I need to clear out a bunch of space in the living room where somebody’s getting the couch. They’re always here in winter; I have guest space on the porch, but not when it’s cold! Oh well.

Anyway. Left that to do later, in what free time I don’t know, I’ll figure it out, and went over and spent two hours shoveling. It was a hard two hours; the snow was really compacted and wet. But we got a lot done. I cleared out the end of the driveway in about 35 intensive minutes, then went back and started on the Drift of Doom blocking the garage. She came out eventually and joined me, and together we broke through the drift but only got the path about four feet wide. Still, that was huge. On my way out I broke up a lot of the snow hoping to get it to melt. But I had to work yesterday, so i couldn’t continue.

She says it’s fine she’ll just back her car over the rest of the pile. I’m a bit concerned. But Dude managed to get out to grocery shop, and did the shopping for her too so she doesn’t have to get her car out and can just wait. She said she didn’t need to go anywhere else. So if she can make it, great, and if not, well, hopefully the thaw takes it down the rest of the way.

Anyway now we’re on flood warnings everywhere. We got 51″ of snow, was the final total, and now it’s 55F outside, room temperature basically, and so everything is melting *everywhere*. I am terrified for my basement, which I used to be great about keeping stuff off the floor of and lately I haven’t been able to and well, if it’s gonna flood I guess it’s gonna flood. I’m so nervous. OH i forgot.

wednesday night, when the temperature first rose, I woke up at 1:30 am to Dude saying, loudly, “OH NO.” I came fully awake immediately, and he said, “why is this wet”, and then I heard it, water dripping, next to my face, and I got so mad because that happened to me so much over the summer in the cabin without a real roof and I was like “NO this is my INDOOR HOUSE” but

the blizzard had forced fine snow through the cracks of the roof deck and it had collected and run down to the edge of the roof and melted into a puddle on the attic floor and now was in the ceiling of our bedroom dropping onto our faces. We had to go clear out a corner of the attic and mop frantically and it was still dripping afterward so I slept in the guest bed and dude slept on the couch so at least when my sister’s family comes we can attest that the sleeping accomodations are comfy.

anyway i’m like. idk the stress is a lot for some reason I genuinely can’t puzzle out. i’m very frazzled. i’m making progress cleaning the house. it’s not the dirt it’s just that there’s so much stuff i haven’t put away in all my traveling and back and forth i never unpacked and anyway it’s just piles of things, and anything that’s put away i’ve forgotten i owned so the only things i use are the things in the piles.

I helpfully tidied everything away into my bedroom and then I get up before Dude so I can’t get dressed until he wakes up and it’s awful. so. anyway. unsustainable. can’t live like this. have to live like this.

Also it’s only 23 days until we go on vacation and i have at least five more garments i desperately want to make so we shall see, especially if i have no time to work on them, what gets done. 

oh AND i have cramps, so that’s just like. shit icing on that cake really.

prayer circle for nobody drowning in these floods and the property damage to be minimal and for them to stop finding bodies in snowdrifts here.

#about the author #idk why i'm so harried #i just am #it's all terrible for some reason

[pitterpatterpot]

Can you please write a prompt when Aedion and Fenrys do something stupid but Gavriel and Vaughan catch them doing it, or shortly after with 114, 115, 116, 148 and 152?

Ah. When a family has the reckless members and the tired members.

114. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

115. “I mean, it could be worse.”

116. “This wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

148. “Things don’t always turn out the way we want them to.”

152. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

From a similar ask:

214. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

217. “H-How long have you been standing there?”

~~~

“This is, by far, the best and worse idea you’ve ever had,” Fenrys grumbles, looking down from their perch on the snow-slicked roof of Vaughan’s mountain holiday home.

“I’m a general, I’ve commanded an army,” Aedion reminds him, calculating the distance between them and the ground. “I think some of those decisions were pretty good and bad.”

“If Gavriel finds out about this, we’re dead.”

“Gavriel worries too much.”

“About you? Yes. About me? Only how he’ll kill me when he finds out I went along with this.”

“You bought the sled!”

“For the mountain! To go sledding down the mountain! Not the damn roof!”

And there they are, perched right before the slope of Aelin’s roof, Aedion on the from of the sled with Fenrys on the back. Fresh snow from the night before layers the roof and the ground below.

“I’m telling you, Aelin and I did this as kids. We were always fine. Her father would cheer.”

“I’m taking your word for it.” Fenrys huffs. “We have until the others get back from their hike.”

“You can pretend you’re against this all you want,” Aedion shuffles the sled closer to the slope, “but you were still the one who spent an hour looking for a way to fit the sled through the manhole.”

“I have to at least pretend to be against this,” Fenrys grumbles as a smile tries to fight it’s way through. “I’m supposed to be the elder here. Did you shovel extra snow at the bottom?”

“No, I’m an idiot who wants our bones to break,” Aedion huffs. “Yes, there’s extra snow at the bottom.”

They shuffle close together on the sled, a smaller model meant for winter fun. They stare down at the end of the roof, both grinning maniacally as they contemplate the small drop. Nothing compared to facing an army. Fenrys wraps his arms around Aedion, the younger of the two braced at the front. With one precarious movement the front of the sled is tipping forward.

And they’re off.

They both release a cheer as they fly over the icy surface of the roof, Aedion pulling up on the reins when they reach the edge as to avoid a complete nose dive. Yet the back of the sled catches on gutter, causing both of them to yelp as they fly off the sled in different directions. Both bodies land in the snow, a deafening crack sounding out.

“Aedion?” Fenrys gasps as he hauls himself up, looking in the direction of the sound.

He unwinds at the view of Aedion groaning just next to him. Then he freezes, eyes fixating on where the porch guardrail is cracked and ripped apart. And even worse, the scent of blood perpetuates the air.

“I mean,” Aedion mumbles from beside him, “this could be worse.”

Fenrys says nothing.

“Things don’t always turn out the way you want them to,” Aedion groans, rolling onto his back. “At least, not the first time. We can try again later.”

“Aedion-“

“What?”

“You have a shard of wood sticking out of your leg.”

Aedion looks down where he, indeed, has a wedge of the rail pierced through his calf muscle. He hums.

“Well,” Aedion sits up, “this wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

“Gavriel is going to kill me,” Fenrys hisses, shifting to his knees and immedtaleaning over the injured leg. “Fucking hell, he is going to slaughter me. I can’t heal this! I’m not as good at healing as he is!”

“Just try and we won’t have to tell Gavriel!”

Without warning Fenrys grabs a pile of snow and shives it on top of Aedion’s leg, causing him to hiss and jerk in irritation. Fenrys ensures the small puddle of blood is covered in record time, grateful that the snow helps muffle the scent. Aedion stares at Fenrys in disbelief, annoyance dripping off him in waves.

“What the hell-“

“Aedion! Fenrys!”

Aedion stiffens, turning to see Gavriel and Vaughanwalk towards them from the forest clearing.

“Gavriel! Vaughan,” Aedion clears his throat. “H-How long have you been standing there?”

“We headed back early from the hike,” his father explains, making his way over to them. “By the way, I thought I heard you say you had something to tell me? I heard you as I was arriving.”

“Fae hearing!” Fenrys declares loudly, laughing and sending Aedion a warning glance. “We sure can hear from far away!”

Vaughan and Gavriel share a befuddled look.

“I know? Fenrys, what’s going on, are you- my gods!” Gavriel’s expression turns to one of shock. “The railing! What did-“ he glances at the sleigh, then the roof, his expression turning thunderous.

Both Aedion and Fenrys shrink under his gaze as he turns back to them, golden eyes on fire.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Gavriel asks, voice low and slow.

“Shit,” Vaughan mutters, wincing at Gavriel’s growl, turning away examine the broken rail.

Both males swallow at the gaze and tone. They share a look, silently fighting between themselves as to who will speak.

“Please, don’t rush,” Gavriel crosses his arms. “After all, we can just stay here until someone confesses.”

Fenrys winces and his eyes twitch towards Aedion’s leg. Gavriel catches the action.

“Aedion,” Gavriel says, “stand up.”

“Ah,” Aedion pats his thighs. “I would, but I’m quite comfortable.”

“Really? You’re comfortable?”

“That’s right.”

“Sitting in the snow?”

“Reminds me of my childhood.”

Gavriel inhales a large breath, closing his eyes to steady and calm himself. After counting to three he turns to Fenrys, pinning the younger male with a look. Fenrys begins to squirm. Aedion grits his teeth and sends him a warning glare. Gavriel narrows his eyes. Aedion does the same. Fenrys avoids looking them both in the eye the best he can, sweat gathering on the back of his neck and father and son both send him equally threatening looks.

“Why is Aedion pale?” Gavriel questions Fenrys.

“I’m cold,” Aedion interjects.

“Lies. You were raised in this climate,” Gavriel barks, then turns back to Fenrys. “I want an answer from you.”

Fenrys bites his lip.

“I will call Aelin back,” Gavriel lowers his voice further, “and she will wonder what happened to Aedion. Are you willing to withhold that information from her?”

Fenrys swallows.

“Just tell him,” Vaughan advices from the porch, looking up to where the gutter is cracked.

“And what about me?” Gavriel continues. “I trained you. Will you deny me information of my only precious child?”

“Oh, gods above!” Aedion chokes, reaching out to grasp Fenrys’s shoulder. “We’re fine! There’s a reasonable explanation for all of this! You can stop with the guilt tripping crap.”

Gavriel ignores his son. Instead, he continues to focus on Fenrys.

“Seriously, Gavriel, we’re fi-“

“Aedion and I sled off the roof but tipped forward too much and broke the railing and Aedion has a piece of wood stabbed through his leg!” Fenrys pauses and heaves in a deep breath, finally relaxing from the strain.

“You what?!”

“Well, fuck.”

“You bastard.”

Gavriel whirls on Aedion, immediately crouching and removing the snow on his leg. Aedion grunts as his father accidentally nudges the shard in his leg. Gavriel swears when he sees it.

“I’m fine,” Aedion drawls as Gavriel examines the wound. “If I can handle being stabbed I can handle a bit of wood.”

“You’re lucky this was so thoroughly polished and varnished,” Gavriel braces Aedion leg with a hand on his knee. “Otherwise you’d have to worry about splinters. Take a breath.”

In a swift movement Gavriel yanks the wood free of Aedion’s flesh, his son barking a curse at the splitting pain before Gavriel’s warm magic seeps through him, his father’s cedar and sage scent potent with anger. Aedion goes to thank him but freezes with the way Gavriel’s eyes are already pinned on him, dark with anger and his jaw twitching.

“You’re pissed,” Aedion sighs. “I’m sorry.”

Gavriel says nothing, focusing on the leg. Aedion squirms at the lack of response, Fenrys looking away and choosing to walk up to Vaughan, the two of them awkwardly standing to the side. The last of Aedion’s skin stitches together and Gavriel turns away, picking up the largest section of broken railing and setting it against the wall of the holiday house. He then commences in picking up smaller shards, ensuring they’re all out of the snow and settled on the porch. Fenrys and Aedion watch him do this, the earlier helping the later to his feet.

“Inside,” Gavriel says, not looking at them as he enters the cabin.

They follow after him, standing awkwardly to the side as Gavriel fills the main fireplace with wood and begins striking the flints. Vaughan drags in the sled behind them, scowling as he does so.He jerks his head towards the couch, clearly indicating for Fenrys and Aedion to sit. They both do so.

Once the fire seems steady Gavriel makes his way over to them. He sits on the low table in front of the couch, examining the two of them. Vaughan leans against the fireplace, dark eyes simmering as he takes everything in.

“So,” Gavriel begins, anger still thick, “who wants to explain what happened?”

“It was my idea,” Aedion immediately interjects, ignoring Fenrys’s frantic look. “Aelin and I used to sled off the roof of her old holiday house as kids. I didn’t factor in the issue that this house has a guardrail to avoid or that Fenrys and I would be heavy.”

Silence stretches between them. Fenrys cringes at the way Gavriel pins them both under his stare. Aedion shifts at the silence.

“What I’m thinking,” Gavriel begins slowly, “is that you two must have the combined maturity of two children to have ever thought sledding off the roof would be a good idea.”

Aedion and Fenrys share a concerned look. Gavriel narrows his eyes as they look away.

“Do not,” he growls lowly, “look away from me as I am speaking to you.”

Aedion’s eyes widen, turning back to his father. Fenrys seems less shocked at the severity of the anger and more apprehensive of it.

“Not only did you engage in a completely ridiculous and childish task,” Gavriel begins, “but you damaged the house and Aedion injured himself in the process.”

“I’m fine,” Aedion scowls. “You healed me and there isn’t even a scar.”

Gavriel narrows his eyes. Fenrys winces.

“That is not the point,” Gavriel begins. “And the fact that you don’t realise that isn’t the point is even worse. You shouldn’t put your own health and safety at risk and you, Fenrys, should be mature enough after all these centuries to automatically know that sledding off a roof is a bad idea!”

“You’re right,” Fenrys agrees, sitting straight. “I apologise for indulging in such an immature act.”

Satisfied, Gavriel turns to Aedion.

“I’m sorry for endangering myself,” Aedion admits. “Especially over something so stupid.”

“Good,” Gavriel huffs. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Trust me, it’s not on the list,” Aedion promises.

Gavriel nods. “While you two may be grown males and I can’t ground you, I candemand that you help me with cutting and moving more lumber tomorrow.”

With that Gavriel stands and stalks his way to his room, the door closing decisively behind him. Both males relax at the sound of the click, Fenrys releasing an audible breath.

“My gods,” Fenrys groans, sliding down the couch and rubbing at his face, “I thought for sure he was going to kill us. Cutting up timber is nothing, becoming a father must have softened him.”

Aedion nods. But they both stiffen at a barked laugh, snapping to attention as Vaughan stalks toward them. The look on his face suggests he knows they forgot about him and will regret it.

“He’s not giving you a harsher punishment because he knows you’re going to be working your asses off all night helping me fix this railing,” Vaughan narrows his eyes, jerking a hand towards the door. “I worked hard on this house. Now get off your asses and get ready for some woodwork. Be outside in five minutes.”

Vaughan slams the front door behind him as he exits the house, Aedion and Fenrys still able to hear him grumbling as he trudges his way through the snow to a shed with supplies. They turn at the squeaking of hinges, Gavriel sticking his head out of his bedroom.

“He’s a perfectionist,” Gavriel dryly informs them. “Get ready to redo the whole porch railing.”

With that he closes the door once again, leaving the two males to wince and wilt, dreading the night of work ahead of them.

#tog fic #cadre #family feels #aedion #tog #fenrys moonbeam #vaughan #gavriel

[dykebeeduo]

My @mcytblrsecretsanta gift for @moonblanche! It's a fun Boatem ficlet, because boatem was unceremoniously destroyed pre-christmas this fic is canon divergent lmao. No shipping, and no content warnings asides from being heavy on the food mentions. the formating is a bit wonky but thats on me for using microsoft word.

2.2k words

(i finally got around to putting this fic up on ao3)

“Oh welcome one and all to the Swaggon holiday dinner” Scar looked away from the mirror and over a Jellie with a frown “no that’s to formal, and this isn’t even a Swaggon event, it’s a Boatem event!”

“Meow” said Jellie tilting her head from her place of prominence at the head of the six seated table in the middle of the room.

“you’re right Jellie, I should just be natural. What even is natural? This is Hermitcraft for heaven’s sake!” Scar said sharply turning back to the mirror and adjusting his festive but still appropriately large Santa hat.

“Me-oww” Meowed Jellie before leaping down from her chair and pumping up onto a windowsill.

“Yeah, yeah I know I know they will be here soon” and as if on cue Grian’s voice descended upon Scar’s specialty made ‘Holidaggon’

“scarscarscrarscarscarscar” the blond rattled as his flew down to an abrupt stop. His voice mystically cutting through the layers of copper wood and appearing at scars ears as full as is they were right next to each other. “Did I scare you?”

“Nooo, you did not. Now come on into this very special Holidaggon!” Scar beamed opening the door to what could best be described as “copper Charismas and candy” a rightfully earned title as he had built the waggon while munching down on pumpkin pies and leftover Halloween candy.

The waggons copper roof has three spires are carefully covered in snow that scar spent hours shoveling (much to his chagrin Plaines biomes never snow no matter how much ambiance the affect would have on a build) and the build was surrounded by small evergreen trees scar shaped himself. Scar had spent hours on robotic stilts while Pearl keeping watch over the clumsiest member of Boatem as he carefully sniped each branch to the perfect length. And to top all of it off the inside of the waggon was filled with delicious treats, yummy food, and a warm fire to counteract all the snow.

“The waggon looks wonderful Scar, and so do you! Sweater buds!” says Grian pointing between his red and white sweater and Scar’s red cardigan.

“Well would you look at that we are all matchy matchy” scar replied making himself busy with a punch bowl as Grian rustles through his inventory.

“ah-hah, one turkey fresh out of the oven, and one delicious bowl of cranberries!” Grian said triumphantly setting the bird and the bowl delicately on the table. “and no I didn’t forget this!” Grian says with a flourish as he grabs a meticulously wrapped gift out of his inventory. The gift is as tall as he is and has a bow the size of his head perched on top, the gift however seems particularly lightweight as Grian effortlessly places it atop the table at the side of the room where Scar has also placed a gift for his secret Santa. But before scar can take a peach at who the gift is addressed to Pearl makes her presence know.

“Knock-knock! I need a hand!... or two” shouts Pearl from behind a stack (no pun intended) of Tupperware containers.

“I’ve got the door Pearl” shouts Grian as if the containers obstructing her view might have also obstructed her ears. Pearl wobbles into the waggon (luckily for her Scar had made this one at ground height) narrowly missing Grian’s snow boots which he had left haphazardly in the middle of the floor in the entrance, and she dropped all of the containers in her hand down on the table with an exhausted

“humph, that’s the last time I go mining before a social event, my darn inventory is filled with cobble I couldn’t fit in the food!”

“Why didn’t you just empty your inventory” said Scar knocking Grian’s snow boots at him with his cane.

“Because I’m using the cobble for a build, and I couldn’t find my cobble chest” Pearl replied before reaching into her inventory and pulling out a small box wrapped in craft paper and tied with a thin yellow ribbon and sets it down on the gift table. Outside the waggon two voices clamor to be the last one inside”

“After you” says Mumbo opening the door for Impulse.

“No after you” replies Impulse taking the handle out of Mumbo’s hand.

“No, I insist” asserts Mumbo pulling the door back away from Impulse.

“I insist as well, after you” Shouts impulse jerking for door away form Mumbo.

“Boys, don’t make be take an axe out and make another door hole” Shouts Pearl not bothering to look up from her meticulously opening her containers of food.

“No not my waggon” Pouts Scar as Impulse and Mumbo finally make their way into the waggon. Each holding a bag of food and a gift.

“howdy do” whistled Scar taking a bag from Mumbo and moving towards the table, beginning to help Pearl organise food.

“I brought candy” Impulse shouted shaking his bag and reaching an arm out to pet Jellie.

“Murrrow” Jellie chirped giving Impulses hand a quick headbutt before letting him scratch under her chin.

“Of course, I made you charismas cookies Jel-ster” Replied Impulse before reaching a hand into his candy bag and taking out a small fish shaped cookie and placing it down next to her.

“I made a tofurky!” Mumbo announces pulling a grey monstrosity out of his inventory. (he was a bad cook when he was eating meat, the things he does to vegetables would make a bunny weep) Upon seeing the grey monstrosity the rest of boatem lets out a collecting groan. “And baked potatoes!” Mumbo says allowing the rest of boatem to gain back some of their appetites.

“Well at least he can’t mess up a Baked Potatoes” says Grian arranging placements and cutlery around the table.

“I don’t know what you could possibly be talking about” Replies Mumbo knowing smile saying what Mumbo isn’t, that he is a terrible cook. But before Mumbo’s cooking can be called further into question pearl announces from across the table.

“I think we are all set! Take a seat everyone” that rest of dinner was a blur compliments flying and jokes exchanged.

“Awesome gravy Pearl!”

“Jellie would you like some tofurkey”

“Scar pass the peas”

“Impulse I like the taffy”

“Does anyone want the cranberries?”

And just as quickly as supper started it ended, and the Boatem crew made their way out to the Boatem Pole to open gifts and roast marshmallows.

“Scar the big one has your name on it” Impulse shouts across the Boatem Hole.

“No fun now I know it’s from Grian” Scar says making his way (carefully) around the pit that has claimed far too many lives this season.

“Well, you would have figured that out eventually” replies Grian as he circles the Boatem Pole inspecting each gift for the one with his name on it.

“Okay has everyone found theirs yet” shouts Pearl standing next to a small box and a raging campfire with Jellie curled up next to it.

“Almost-yep I just found mine” Responds Impulse standing between Mumbo and Grian.

“alright wonderful, do we want to go clockwise?” a small chorus of ‘okays’ ring out from around the Boatem Hole. “Okay Grian you got first”

“Alight, my box is small, and brown and” Grian pauses for a second before shaking the box. “it doesn’t rattle.” He pauses for another second and looks around the Boatem Pole eyeing each hermit to see if a face might betray who gave him the gift. But before any of the hermits can break, he quickly opens the box and shouts.

“and its…. SAWEATER! YEAHHHH” Grian holds up a fire red and yellow knit sweater with blue around the collar and wrists.

“It has wing holes!” Pearl shouts from his right. Hearing this Grian quickly turns around the sweater and gasps as his eyes land on two small slits in the knit just the right size for his equally tricoloured wings to fit through.

“Pearl I love it!” he shouts running the sort distance over to her and wrapping her in a hug.

“I know you don’t like it when your back is cold!”

“it’s the worse!” shouts Grian before effortlessly flapping his wings and lifting the two of them up and off the ground.

“aak- Grian PUT ME DOWN! I’m not wearing an elytra!!!” shouts Pearl before pressing her face into Grian’s chest as he floats back down to solid ground.

“you’re fine Pearl we weren’t even taller than the Boatem Pole” he laughs letting go of Pearl and watching steady herself with her arms.

“Says the guy who has wings! Of course, you don’t think I’m going to die!” she laughs out before sitting down on the ground and yelling over to Impulse “go ahead Impulse!”

“okay my present is tiny” Impulse says holding a small box the size of his hand “and inside of the tiny present is…. A tiny model of my factory!!! It’s so cute” Impulse slowly turns the model around in his hand but before he can say anything else about the small model it lights up and begins to produce a small amount if smoke out of the smokestacks. “oh my gosh I love it!”

“I’m glad! I don’t do Micro-Redstone for just anyone.” Mumbo laughs at the look of wonder of the man’s face.

“oh thank you Mumbo I love it” replies impulse taking Mumbo into a quick hug before he puts his eyes back into the small model.

“Okay well I guess its my turn, my gift appears to be an unwrapped shulker box, but what could be inside….” The mustached man says before twisting open the shulker mechanism and gasping. “Oh Redstone, full sized Redstone my beloved! It’s been too long my dear the world thinks I’m a builder now!”

“I knew you’d like it!” responds Scar tipping his oversized Santa hat at Mumbo for good measure.

“it’s wonderful thank you Scar!”

“and now it’s my turn!” Scar says before dramatically turning towards the large present beside him. “And since the gifters identity has been revealed already, Grian how am I supposed to open this?”

“rip anywhere!” with that simple sentence scar began to rip away the paper and looked with curiosity at the object Infront of him. Made with glass, soul sand, and held together with a wooden frame and lid Scar was officially stumped by what the gift could be.

“its uhhhhh a ummmm”

“it’s a potable enderporter with a dustless panic button.” Grain said with a smile.

“wait what? that’s so cool!!!” Scar said opening the lid to the enderporter and lifting out a small stone tablet on a lanyard.

“you just fill it with water, throw a pearl in a press the button whenever you get in trouble.” Grain said watching Scars eyes light up with the possibilities this enderporter offered. “Here have a water bucket and some pearls.” Grain said opening his inventory and pulling out the two missing components for the enderporter.

“awesome” replied Scar before quickly placing the lanyard around his neck and filling up the enderporter with water before taking two quick strides towards the Boatem Hole and jumping in.

“sc-scar….” Grian started before being interrupted by

goodtimewithscar fell out of the world.

“he forgot to throw a pearl” Grian whispered towards the other hermits as they all silently giggled as Scar made the quick walk over from his “starter base” to the Boatem Hole.

“I… I may have forgotten something”

“I knew you would which is why I made multiple panic button” Grian says with a. smile as he opened his inventory and pulled out another for Scar.

“Thank you” Scar said letting his eyes drop to the ground for a slit second before gesturing over at Pearl with a flourish and declaring “onto the one and only Pearlescent MOOOOON!”

“Thank you Scar, well my gifter is not really a secret considering I’m going last but regardless the gift itself is a mystery!” Pearl says picking up her gift from the ground beside her. “it’s a….” pearl pauses for a second to carefully undo the bow that Impulse had tied around the box. “Ship in a bottle!”

“it’s an upside-down ship in a bottle!” Impulse a laughs as Pearl looks into the meticulously arranged model of her starter house.

“Oh thank you Impulse, it will look wonderful in the lighthouse!”

“thank you pearl.” Impulse replied before clapping his hands together and asking a question he already knew the answer to. “Does anyone want a smore?” and all of Boatem descended upon the campfire with joyous vigour all five (six if you count Jellie) clamouring for a dry seat on one of the logs around the fire passing around marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolates. And as they all sit back and begin to roast the marshmallows Grian looks over at the man beside him and asks a simple question.

“Hey Mumbo?”

“Yeah Grian?”

“Does the moon look big to you?”

“not at all, if anything it looks small!”

#boatem #boatem village #boatem crew #grian #good times with scar #gtws #mumbo jumbo #impulsesv #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft season 8 #hermitcraft #mcytblr secret santa

[dc41896]

Winter Wonderland

Pairing: Ransom DrysdalexBlack Reader

⚠️: Ransom being a tiny bit of a jerk, the usual fluff

Sat on the couch comfortably wrapped in your boyfriend’s burnt orange throw blanket, your eyes stay glued to the meteorologist pointing to the map on the wide screen in front of you as you mindlessly bite your thumbnail.

“This again?,” Ransom asks returning from his shower to sit next to you. Forest green tee shirt over his black sweatpants, the scent of sandalwood wafting off his skin brings you closer eventually resting your head on his shoulder while you silently take in a couple deep breaths to savor the smell. “What, are you trying to be a weatherwoman now or something?”

“No, I’m just trying to stay updated. You know, watching to see if it’ll maybe rain or snow...”

Moving his laptop from the glass coffee table to his lap, soon his fingers tap away at the keyboard below as he tries to answer emails he missed while being away with you and your family for Thanksgiving.

“Hopefully it doesn’t. I’ve got too much to do for the power to be turning off.”

“...It would be nice to see though you know?”

“Mm,” he simply replies, mind still comprehending the email from his assistant with his schedule for the upcoming month.

“Snow covering the ground perfect to make snow angels or a snowman with a cute little scarf and carrot nose. Ooh and maybe a snowball fight-!”

“You sound like a kid who’s never seen snow before,” he chuckles. Noticing your extended silence, he sits up meeting your innocent eyes as you play with one of the tassels from the blanket. “You’ve never seen snow, have you?”

“I mean yeah in movies and pictures, but never in person. Remember, it doesn’t really get that cold where I live.”

Only four months in, your relationship was still fairly new. And most of that time he was flying to see you, which was slightly concerning at first. Once he told you about his dysfunctional family though, and you briefly heard it firsthand, it made sense why he wanted to get as far away as possible.

It was just a small mistake when some of his business documents were sent to his parents’ house, but of course they assumed it was his sly way of asking for money. Not even giving him a chance to explain, a shouting match soon ensued and hence why Thanksgiving was spent with your parents.

He still wanted you to come visit to show you his home, where he grew up, and some of his favorite places especially since you showed him yours. He’d just have to be extra careful to avoid any of his family members or those who worked at his grandfather’s home if the two of you went to town.

So far though, you two didn’t have to worry since you’d either been happily snuggled on the couch or in bed since you arrived.

“Well, it’s more of a pain than anything. You need the right tires to drive on the road and even then you have to worry about them being too slick. Then sometimes the snow is like mush that basically starts melting as soon as it falls, and don’t even get me started on the shoveling,” he rants as the small smile on your face slightly falls.

“Yea I’ve uh heard that it’s not so great once you get used to it,” you respond turning the channel to some random movie before handing him the remote. “Looks like it’s not gonna snow anyway though so no worries.”

“Good, I’ll be able to make all of my meetings then.”

As you sat in silence, Ransom could feel that you were disappointed about the sunny and clear forecast. He still stood by all the negative things he said earlier, but he also remembered how excited he’d get as a kid once it started to get colder. That meant snow would eventually come, bringing snow days from school and playing all day in the backyard. That is until his mother would yell at him from the back door not to mess up his clothes or send the nanny out to get him if she felt he wasn’t listening.

Hearing your soft snores, he carefully removes his phone from his pocket, moving his typing from his laptop to the smaller device in his hand as he sends a quick text to someone who might be able to help.

———

The soft chime of your alarm from the bedside table causes you to mentally groan as you reach to silence it before it could disturb Ransom. However feeling his arm tighten around your waist bringing you closer to his bare chest, you could see you were too late.

“Sorry babe. Go back to sleep, you still have time before your meeting,” you whisper.

“No,” he mumbles, face falling to the crook of your neck making you giggle from the sensation of his breathing paired with his pouted lips against your skin.

“Can you let go then? I have to log in for work.” Shaking his head, you roll your eyes at how clingy he could be under that tough, careless facade. “Ransom come on it’s my last workday before Christmas so I can’t call out. As soon as I’m done though you can have me all to yourself okay?”

His only response is silence as you try to escape his grip thinking he drifted back to sleep. You’re slightly startled as your body is turned to face your boyfriend with his eyes still closed and a tired yet playful smirk gracing his lips.

“I already took care of work for you,” he replies opening one eye while the other stayed pressed against the plush pillow.

“What do you mean?”

“That you don’t need to worry about work until the new year.”

“How? You just told my boss I wouldn’t be in for a while and she said okay?”

“Well darling as you know I can be very persuasive,” he cockily states with a wink. Sitting up with arms crossed over your chest, he chuckles at your unamused expression sitting up himself to lean against the headboard. “I told her how I had a secret trip planned for us and asked if you could be out until you were due to be back in January. She said you had the time so it was okay and for us to have fun. If you don’t believe me call her yourself.”

“How long have you had this planned? And where is this secret trip too?,” you finally speak trusting his words.

“A while now, and it wouldn’t be a secret anymore if I told you dear.”

“Then how am I supposed to pack for said trip honey?,��� you ask matching his sarcasm.

“Already took care of that too. All you have to do is get ready so we can leave in a couple hours,” he smiles gently grabbing your chin to kiss your lips. “Unless you want to go to work then-,”

“No, I’ll get dressed!” Giving him one last peck as you crawl over his relaxed form, he chuckles watching you excitedly hurry to the bathroom to start your morning routine.

After both of you were dressed and Ransom placed your packed bags in the trunk of his newly rented Range Rover, his hand stops you from entering the passenger side slightly confusing you.

“It’s a surprise remember?,” he smirks pulling a black blind fold out of his jacket pocket.

“You know, this is how a handful of those lifetime movies start before the main character goes missing and her family then sets out to find the boyfriend even though he swears he’s innocent,” you state making him deeply chuckle as he finishes tying the cloth over your eyes.

“Relax, you’re fine. Plus how do I know this isn’t like those movies where the gorgeous girlfriend acts all innocent and sweet until she gets her boyfriend away so she can kill him and take all his stuff before moving on to her next victim?”

“Touché. I guess we’re gonna have to trust each other then.”

“I guess so,” he laughs kissing your cheek before carefully helping you in your seat and closing the door behind you. The drive there didn’t seem too long as you and Ransom talked about everything from each of your favorite vacations over the years to his new book ideas and what was soon to be published under his company. Of course you tried to get him to slip and say where you were going and what he had planned, but his lips remained sealed.

Every time you asked, he’d just chuckle telling you to be patient before kissing the back of your hand.

Soon enough your questions would be answered as the car slowed while it turned maintaining the same speed until coming to a complete stop. “Are we there? Can I take off the blindfold now?,” you excitedly ask.

“Go ahead before you bounce a hole in the seat.”

Removing the cloth, you blink your eyes adjusting to the brightness of the remaining daylight outside before they can focus on what was exactly in front of you. Dark brown wooden outside with a blue green roof and stone chimney, the modern looking cabin with wrap around porch peering into the surrounding woods on one side and the calm lake on the other.

“I hope your silence isn’t because you’re currently regretting coming with me,” he speaks peering at you with soft crystal blue eyes. Leaning over the middle console, your hand finds the back of his neck bringing him closer to connect your lips with his.

“It’s beautiful! The perfect Christmas getaway,” you smile.

“Well not perfect yet. This is just part one of your surprise.”

“Ransom, you don’t-,”

“I know, I don’t have to. As you see though, we’re here so are we gonna sit in the car and stare at it or go inside?,” he smirks before getting out to open your door.

You weren’t surprised to find the inside just as charming as it’s outside view. The modern, minimalistic aesthetic along with high vaulted ceiling and open concept made it seem as if there was no end in sight for the cozy cabin. From it’s overall inviting warmth enveloping you as soon as the both of you crossed the threshold, you weren’t sure if your boyfriend, or anyone, would get you to leave when the time eventually came.

Once settled and full of dinner made from what was in the fully stocked fridge and freezer, courtesy of his assistant, you could feel the day’s toll finally weighing on you as multiple yawns escaped your mouth and eyelids began to droop.

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet, you still have your last surprise to see,” he chuckles gently nudging your arm.

“Ransom seriously everything has been more than enough. What else could you possibly have planned?,” you sleepily smile peering up at him through partially opened lids. Gently pulling you up with him, he guides you to the porch with muscular, sweater covered arms wrapped on your chest just under your neck. He places a kiss on the top of your head as you lean back into his broad chest admiring the bright crescent moon along with the shimmering stars scattered behind it in the black sky.

“Although I do love gazing at the moon with you, and think this is a really nice surprise, it’s getting cold,” you speak feeling the vibrations of his quiet laugh through his chest.

“You really need to work on your patience dear,” he whispers, lips resting next to your ear. Watching the breath from your nose turn to smoke, you soon see something fall from above making you slightly lean forward to see if your eyes were deceiving you. Sure enough, a similar white speck descended with a small swirl as you gently gripped Ransom’s arm gasping. As more and more fell, you reach out over the banister feeling bits of cold ice touch your palm before melting into miniature puddles.

“Is this real?!”

“No, there’s a man on the roof with a wind machine. Yes, it’s real honey,” he chuckles kissing your cold cheek.

“But the forecast said there was none coming.”

“Yea for where we were. That’s why I brought you a bit further north where it usually snows around this time of year. Luckily it still happened or else everything would’ve been ruined.”

Turning to face him, your arms wrap around his neck as you reach on your tip toes to deeply kiss his lips. You prop your chin on his chest, adoringly looking up at your boyfriend with a soft smile.

“Yea no snow would’ve been a bit of a bummer, but everything would still be wonderful because I’m here with you.”

“Stop you’re gonna make me blush,” he dismisses with a dramatic wave making you giggle.

For the next few moments, you both comfortably stand in each other’s arms with your head now lying on his chest gazing at the steady falling flurries, and Ransom doing the same finding himself truly happy to see snow for the first time in a long while.

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @maxcullen @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for, or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#chrisxblackreader #chrisxwoc #chrisxreader #chris evans #ransomxwoc #ransomxblackreader #ransom drysdale #ransomxreader #knives out

[obscureoperations]

Martin likes snow? What would you do if you were in that white landscape? Cute moment? Bad memories?

Martin absolutely loves snow, but never really had time to enjoy it beyond its aesthetically pleasing value. He was always forced to stay inside, tending to the house or uncle Palonis. When he moved to Braddock, it was no different. His first winter was spent mostly working. Any time he got to  actually spend time in the snow there was a shovel in his hand. He was forced to shovel the entire walkway including Mrs. Parks (because she is an elder and can’t do it herself) By the time he would get back inside his hands were nearly frozen, back stiff as a board. He awoke the next day feeling like hell warmed over. He started to wonder if snow was really that great. But then he met you.

It was Late spring early summer when you first came to Braddock. It took only about a month for the two of you to grow close. You spent nearly every waking moment together that was allowed, and a few that weren’t. He had no problem sneaking out to see you. You felt the same. You just always wanted to be near him. Walks during the late summer afternoons, spending time together in the field. Window shopping, lazy afternoons at your place. He felt like it was all some sort of dream. The second it started to get colder, for some reason started to feel a bit down. He didn’t always feel that way about the change if seasons-- it was just something about that year. Maybe it had something to do with you. In the back of his mind he was always waiting for your feelings to change. For you to snap out of in and decide you want nothing to do with you. If you did, he wouldn’t blame you. You don’t deserve y/n... they’re gonna figure it out. He took the sudden change of weather far more personal this year, despite knowing that it was silly. Anxious whenever he would pick up the phone, in fear of  what you might say. Your warm voice on the other line calmed him instantly, before he knew it hours had passed, and his cheeks were sore from smiling. 

When it snowed for the first time it was late at night, he was already in bed asleep. When he finally awoke, it was to the sound of the pnone ringing, he kept  it buried beneath his pillow. 

“H-hello?” He whispers hoarsly, barely able to open his eyes.

“Martin, quick, go look outside!” Came your excite voice over the phone. Despite feeling lucky to hear from you so early, his ears were sensitive , he held the receiver away from his face. “What do you mean?” 

“Just trust me... go to the window and look outside!”

With a sigh, he hoists himself up out of bed, nearly stumbling on his way to the window. When he pulls back the curtains, he has to suint to focus, all he would see were blankets of white. All the roofs were covered, the parked cars and fire hydrants. All he could think of was the sound of Cuda’s voice ordering him to get the shovel.

“When he finally picked up the phone.” Wow.. that’s alot.” was all that he could muster up, you were already talking a mile a minute. 

“As soon as it all settles, you have to come over! My yard is huge... you’ve seen it, its like a wonderland even right now!”

Oh

“So you want me to help you shovel or?”

“Noo! god, you’re such a goof, we’re gonna hang out? haven’t you ever just messed around in the snow for a laugh?”

The silence on the other end was your answer.

“Well it’s settled... when ever you’re free, just give me a call.” With that you hung up.

Brief head cannons for your first snow day:

hats scarves and all that good stuff... Martin didn’t have many clothes, especially clothes that were suited for winter. His normal tan jacket, a few thick sweaters, a pair of gloves and a beanie. That was it. When he arrived to your place that afternoon, you had to quickly usher him inside, Cupping his cheeks, bringing his hands to your lips to warm them. You insisted that “You guys were going to do this right” and to do that, he had to be dressed properly. When he steps out into the yard, he was dressed in one of your bomber jackets, a thick wool hat, and a pair  of insulated gloves

Snow angels and snowball fights, he couldn’t tell which he preferred. He enjoyed the serenity of  staring up into the clear blue sky, not a cloud insight. The snow beneath him, soft as a pillow, the coldness barely permeated through the thick down jacket. But the snowball fights, that was something else, pure adrenaline, he didn’t know you could move that fast. Ducking and weaving around his every attempt. Bating him to “come and get me then!!” It was on. He chased you around the yard for what felt like the shortest eternity of his life. Only catching up when he managed to trip you over his knee. Taking a snowball and gently crushing it on top of your head, all the while you laughed hysterically, begging him to stop. “Say it!!” he yells in mock exasperation.He had your wrists pinned to the ground. “No!” “I’m not letting go till you say it!” “Screw you pal... get off!” you laugh. He fixes you with his most serious expression. “Finneee! alright, come here.” Three little words whispered right against his lips, before you lean in and kiss him sweetly.

“I’m really cold...” He says after a few moments of staring up into the sky. The two of you had been out there for nearly two hours. You had to admit you were growing a bit tired. The sweat had dried beneath your clothes, heartbeat still coming down from the epic chase around the entire yard. “Yeah, me too... lets go in, I can make lunch.” 

Hot cocoa and popcorn, thats a well balanced meal wouldn’t you say? Well that was what he wanted when you asked him what he had in mind, and you had no intention of denying him. That and you still had some rice crispy treats that you made in the back of the fridge. He looked like a kid in a candy store. The two of you ended up curled up on the couch , mugs in hand, as you flip through the tv guide. The shared blanket started to seem increasingly small, so it only made sense for him to shift closer. You both ended up falling asleep for over an hour, with him resting on top of you,legs entwined, his head resting against your chest.

#Martin 1977 #Martin 1978 #snow day... more like snow yay! #yea that was lame #this is a cute concept ngl #I have the thought in my head that he gets cold like really easily #especially his nose and hands #🥺☺️

[tagsecretsanta]

From @Psychoseal

to @avengedbiologist

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above! The sun is blazing overhead. Even by tropical island standards it is hot. 

“It is too hot to move” Gordon complains from his spot by the pool where he is lying on one of the loungers, wearing nothing but his tiniest speedos. Showing off his perfectly sculpted abs, there is a scar on his chest. A streak of white on his otherwise evenly tanned torso. Virgil has slathered him in sunscreen from head to toe to avoid him getting burned. Partly because he cares about him and mainly because he is cranky and irritable when he is in pain! 

“Why don’t you go for a swim?” Kayo asks. She is on the lounger next to him, having just pulled herself up out of the water. 

There is a jug of lemonade on the table in between the two loungers and Kayo pours herself a glass before choking on its bitter taste. “Ugh, that is disgusting. Who made it?” she asks.

“Alan” Gordon replies with a shrug. 

“What did he put in it?” 

“No idea, I wasn’t silly enough to try it” Gordon replies, poking his tongue out at her. 

Kayo grins back at him and in one swift movement dumps the left-over lemonade on him before racing back into the house. 

Gordon squeaks with indignity, but rather than chasing after her he dives back into the pool. Revenge is the last thing on his mind as he lets his anger wash over him in his happy place, and besides, it is Christmas Eve and he is in too good a mood to let anyone ruin it now. 

He stays in the pool until his father comes out to get him. “Come on Squid there is food on the table and you need to have an early night. You know Father Christmas won’t come if you’re still awake!” 

“Dad, I am not five years old!” Gordon reminds him. 

“Do you want presents?” Jeff threatens with a smile. 

Gordon doesn’t respond, instead he jumps up from the pool before grabbing his father and pulling him close for a hug. 

“Gordon! You’re soaking” Jeff reminds him. 

Gordon shakes the water from his head all over Jeff’s shirt. 

“Never change Gords” Jeff says, as he struggles to free himself from his son’s vice like grip. 

“Ooh pizza” Gordon announces, when he enters the kitchen ten minutes later, now fully dressed in a pair of light blue pyjamas and no shoes. 

On the table are several pizzas neatly cut into slices. Steam rising up from the cheese and Gordon’s mouth is watering in anticipation. Reaching across Virgil, he grabs hold of the nearest pie and pulls it towards him. Taking two slices and mashing them together before shovelling it in whole, bits of stringy cheese are dripping down his chin. “H-h-hot!” he gasps. 

“Do you regret that?” Scott asks.

Gordon glares at him, while he gulps down a glass of water. “Nope! Never!” he finally spits out. 

Between the boys, Jeff, Grandma, Kayo and Brains the pizza doesn’t last long. 

Jeff has no idea what traditions the boys have kept or made anew. “What are we doing now?” he asks Scott. Jeff is so proud of the way Scott stepped up to help raise his brothers after his disappearance and is more than happy to sit back and let him take the lead. 

But it is Alan who replies. “Well we are going to have an early night. Eos is looking out for any hints of an emergency so we are going to make sure we are well rested.” 

Scott and Virgil burst into laughter. 

“Yeah right Al” John says, banging his fist on the table while he chokes on his coffee. 

“I am an adult now. A real grown up!” Alan insists, he knows that he can’t reveal his true plans yet. If this works he will finally get the respect he deserves. 

Grandma and Jeff break open a bottle of wine, which they take out onto the balcony to watch the sunset. “Do you ever miss Christmas in Kansas?” he asks. His mom gave up her own life to raise her grandchildren and he will never be able to repay her.

Grandma shakes her head. “Miss the sub-zero temperatures and the snow and the ice? No thank you!”

Even in the darkening evening the heat is oppressive and muggy. “I don’t know about you Jeff but it is nicer inside with the air conditioning. You have wrapped the boys presents?” 

Jeff nods. “Of course. This is the first time in nine years that I have been able to do this and I am going to make tomorrow special. The whole family is home under one roof. It is a shame Lady Penelope couldn’t make it; I know Gordon is missing her” 

“Her family plans couldn’t be rearranged, but I know they are going to meet up for New Year instead.” 

The house is silent when they go back in, all five boys having agreed to an early night, so that Father Christmas can deliver their presents in peace. The living room has the look of a tinsel explosion and the main tree is covered in lights and baubles. The morning after the tree had been decorated, they arrived downstairs to find Gordon had replaced the baubles with hundreds of them shaped like his own head. Which even now gives Alan nightmares of a parallel universe where he is haunted by a thousand Gordon’s! 

“I am off to bed myself Jeff dear. I will see you in the morning.” 

“Night mom” Jeff replies watching her go up the stairs past Virgil’s latest art project and into the comfort of her own suite. 

Jeff gets to work as soon as he is alone. Removing a box from the safe and pulling out the bright red suit and long white beard and getting changed into his old outfit. There is a large sack of presents waiting to go under the tree, which are hidden in his room.

Alan waits until he is sure that his father has gone to bed, before he sneaks out of his room and back down the stairs into the living room. Creeping as quietly as a mouse Alan sets up his great plan to catch Father Christmas and prove to Gordon once and for all that he does exist! 

“What are you doing?” 

Alan turns round to find Gordon staring at him in confusion. 

“Catching Father Christmas!” Alan insists. “What are you doing out of bed?” 

“Getting a glass of water. Do you need any help?” 

Alan shakes his head. “No, I have everything I need here. Can you remember the time you trapped Scott in that net and forced him to watch five hours of Into the Unknown?” 

Gordons eyes crinkle with the laughter of the memory. “Yeah, fun times!” 

“Well that. I am going to use that to catch him.” Alan reveals his plan. 

“Good luck. I am going back to bed” Gordon says yawning. “You want a drink?” 

“I’m good” Alan replies. Turning his attention back to the trap. He doesn’t go up onto the roof to trap the reindeer, the last thing he would want to do is accidentally cause Rudolph to fall and hurt himself! 

Once the net is set up Alan realises that he needs a place to hide, and he knows the perfect spot. The boy’s old fort. To help them adjust to the move, Jeff helped them build a fort in the living room behind his desk. The entrance is hidden by a pair of curtains which used to hang in their mom and dad’s room in Kansas. Inside there are five squashy mismatched armchairs which Grandma helped them decorate. Alan’s is bright red and adorned with pictures of rockets. Here he has the perfect view of the room, as he gets settled in his chosen hiding spot. 

He has not been in here for ages and he starts to think about the times he spent in here. 

That first night on the Island when he was too frightened to sleep and ended up in here joined by his brothers they all slept in here, snuggled in a bro pile on the soft carpeted floor. 

Their first Christmas where they strung fairy lights across the entrance and all stayed in here to open their presents and eat the cold dry turkey Grandma cremated for their dinner. 

The night their father disappeared. Alan sought refuge in here, curling up on the floor on his own while he cried himself to sleep. Alan hasn’t slept in his own bed since, preferring the floor. No one else has vanished while he sleeps on the floor.

There is a box next to his chair. A box full of memories. Smiling now, Alan starts to look through the box. there are ticket stubs from movies they went too, old school reports, John’s science fair trophy and Gordon’s Olympic gold medal. Family photos from Kansas and the Island. At the bottom of the box, Alan finds their old flag. Designed and painted by Virgil “Fort Tracy” and tomorrow he is going to put the flag back where it belongs. 

Alan sits down on the floor, and before he knows it he is fast asleep.

*TB*

“ARRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!” A scream wakes him up nearly an hour later. Alan jumps in shock, and momentarily confused before he realises where he is. He scrambles to his feet and races out the Fort where he finds exactly what he is waiting for. 

“YES I CAUGHT YOU!”  Alan cries. 

“Get me down!” The figure dressed in his red suit calls from above his head. 

Realisation that it is his father and not Father Christmas dawns on him, and he releases the net. “DAD?” 

“What the hell Alan?” he asks.

“I just wanted to catch Father Christmas” Alan says, there is a deep look of disappointment on his face and tears are threatening. 

“Oh Allie” Jeff melts. “You know that Father Christmas doesn’t exist. Come on, help me pop the presents under the tree and then I will make us hot chocolate.” 

The disappointment isn’t fading as he helps Jeff place the gifts until he finds ones with his name on. “Hey, look this one is for me!” 

“Of course it is. Do you think we would leave you out?” Jeff asks.

“Gordon said…” Alan starts.

“Say no more! Never listen to Gordon” Jeff reminds him with a grin. 

Jeff makes the hot chocolate, and the two go back to the Fort. “I haven’t seen you use this for ages” he says while he sits on Scott’s customised chair.

“I think we outgrew it” Alan says, there is a hint of sadness in his voice now. 

“Nothing lasts forever Alan, you must know that by now” Jeff says, placing his mug on the floor and giving his youngest son a hug.

“Everything changed when you disappeared dad” Alan admits. “And none of it for the better, I missed you so much” and he finally realises that he knew all along that his father was playing Father Christmas. Since he got back, there has been hope in his life again.

“I missed you too. I missed you all so much but I am back now, and I am never going anywhere like that again” Jeff reassures his youngest son. 

“Please don’t” Alan replies resting his head on his father’s shoulder, he can feel himself falling asleep here and he has never felt so safe before. 

Jeff is starting to snore when there is a loud thud outside. 

“Dad? What was that?” Alan asks, shaking him awake. 

“Whaaaa?” Jeff replies sleepily. 

“There is something outside” Alan tells him. 

“No there isn’t. Go back to sleep” Jeff replies. 

“Come on!” Alan says, trying to drag him to his feet. 

Jeff knows when he is defeated and allows Alan to lead him from their sanctuary to find out what is going on. 

Out by the pool, there is a sleigh parked which is housing eight reindeer. “DAD!” Alan shouts, “LOOK!” 

“Hello Alan, you are meant to be in bed!” 

“FATHER CHRISTMAS!” Alan exclaims in shock. “How? My brothers said you didn’t exist. But I knew you did, I just knew it!” 

“And that Alan Is why your brothers are getting a lump of coal each and your getting a plush model of your thunderbird” Father Christmas replies. “But you have to keep my secret, okay?” 

Alan nods. “Anything for you. I promise that I will always keep your secret” 

“Good, now go to bed and get some sleep” 

Alan is sitting up in his room when Father Christmas leaves, watching the sleigh fly up and away into the night sky with a “Ho ho ho” which he knows he is the only one who can hear. 

“Merry Christmas” Alan says to the retreating reindeer before he lies down on his bed, and for the first time in nine years Alan sleeps soundly in his own bed. 

*TB*

Christmas morning is a blur of laughter and present opening. Until there is only one gift left. 

“Dear Kayo,

Have a lovely Christmas 😉

Love from Gordon” 

“Gordon, you are the only person I know who can make have a lovely Christmas sound like a threat!” She tells him as she pulls the ribbon and lifts the lid from the box.

Lemonade explodes all over her. 

“GORDON!” She yells running her hand through her sticky hair.

“Gotcha!” Gordon replies with a grin.

“Oh you are lucky it is Christmas!” Kayo tells him laughing. “Truce?” 

“Yeah truce” Gordon agrees. 

“Excellent, I am going to check on the turkey” Grandma says.

Identical looks of horror flash upon everyone’s faces. 

“Merry Christmas boys” Jeff says with a grin. Glad that it doesn’t matter how many years have passed, somethings just never change! 

#thunderbirds are go #Thunderbirds 2015 #tag team secret santa #secret santa 2020 #Gordon Tracy #kayo kyrano #alan tracy #jeff tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy

[tealin]

Basler to the Beardmore 2: Errands

As always, no matter what Tumblr does with it, this post is available in its intended presentation at twirlynoodle.com/blog along with the rest of my Antarctic travel diary.

On this flight to the heart of Antarctica, I was only a hanger-on.  We had two errands to run before entertaining me and my historical interests, the most important of which was restocking a fuel depot at the base of the Transantarctic Mountains.

There are many busy science teams in Antarctica, and while some renewable energy sources are starting to be used, the fact is that everything runs on a reliable supply of fossil fuels, mostly petrol.  The aircraft that keep people and their essentials moving around the continent have a network of fuel depots, both for relay stops and for emergencies.  Contrary to some conspiracy theories, anyone can fly to and around Antarctica if they have the money and resources to get there, and many do.  As the national science programmes have a very tight margin, and their fuel depots are expensive to maintain, they cannot afford jet-setters raiding their supplies, so the locations of these depots are kept secret.  Therefore I am not going to tell you where our first stop was.  The chances of a private pilot reading this blog are slim, but it may be possible to deduce from my photos where this particular cache is: if you are that outlier, I hereby ask you please to do the decent thing and leave the fuel alone – or if you absolutely must access it, then let the USAP know what you've taken and make good on it as soon as you can.  Everyone in Antarctica looks out for each other, and that includes you.  OK?  OK. 

So, we've taken off, and done our acrobatics to get the skis up, and are now facing a couple of hours' flight time before we reach our primary destination.  There is, quite frankly, nothing between Williams Field and the Transantarctic Mountains, besides hundreds of miles of the Ross Ice Shelf. This was known as 'The Barrier' to the early explorers, because when James Clark Ross sailed down to explore in 1840 it was a great while wall that prevented his ships from going any further. In later years it wasn't so much a barrier as a highway – clear and flat, and not much off sea level, it provided a route deep into the high latitudes without the perils of the high windy Polar Plateau.  Among people who frequently travel out there, it is sometimes referred to as 'the Flat White' – my impression is that this term came from the Kiwis, and the espresso drink of the same name is also antipodean in origin, so I wonder which came first.  It is undeniably Flat, and White (though the refraction of sunlight through ice crystals makes it look anything from peachy to periwinkle, depending on the angle), but none of its various names communicate just how big it is.

I have flown over the Canadian tundra many times, and over the Greenland ice cap, but the view from 35,000 feet is like looking at satellite view in Google Maps compared to flying at cloud level, where the parallax with the horizon gives you a much keener sense of distance.  The Barrier is BIG.  In fact, 'big' is too small a word to communicate it.  'Massive', 'mammoth', and 'gargantuan' are more melodramatic than descriptive.  Its vastness puts all of human consciousness, never mind vocabulary, in proper perspective.  For my money, it outdoes the night sky as a visual approximation of infinity. 

Getting a sense of its size, especially in a still photo, is difficult without an object for scale.  For your education and my good fortune, we happened to fly over the RAID convoy as they made their way from the Minna Bluff site to where the Ross Ice Shelf meets the Antarctic continent.  Rapid Access Ice Drilling has been supporting various scientific projects for a few years now, whether their interest is in the ice itself (its trapped air gives a record of Earth's atmosphere in millennia past) or what's underneath (marine environments far removed from the open sea; the bed of an accelerating glacier).  Their units are about the size of a shipping container, and are pulled by enormous tractors, so if they are this dwarfed by the Flat White, imagine how much more puny a sledge party would be. 

Before too much longer we were at the depot.  Landing at an Antarctic field airstrip is even more complicated than taking off: we circled once, to do a visual check, then skimmed it with the skis to make sure no hidden crevasses had opened up since the last time someone landed here, then finally touched down for real on the third go-round.  The plane crew rapidly got to work unloading the fuel drums; I offered to help but was assured I wasn't needed, so spent the time taking photographs and mucking around in the snow.

The first thing that struck me was how beautiful the mountains were in colour.  The best photos I've seen of them have been black and white, so the rich variety in shades was remarkable.  What you can't see in this small photo was how the lighter rock was banded with strata of blue-grey and orange-brown sandstone, giving it a luxurious marbled effect. 

I've read a lot about how conditions on the Barrier are so much different than on the coast.  This was far deeper into it than I was ever expecting to set foot, but I was surprised how tame it was.  Now, it was an idyllically calm and sunny day – had it been any different we would not have been there – so the only time I realised that it was actually much colder than McMurdo was when a slight breeze wafted past my bare hand and broke the warm spell that the sunshine had cast.

 What was different was the snow.  Around McMurdo, the snowbanks which did build up had been repeatedly blown over with volcanic dust which warmed up in the sun and made the snow gritty, icy, and rotten – if you live in a snowy city, think of the texture of snowbanks alongside busy roads.  Out here, there was nothing but snow, all the way down to where it became ice – powder blown off the mountains, maybe even off the Polar Plateau, deposited here to be compacted in the sun and polished by the wind.  The crust made by these processes was smooth and, in many places, thick enough to support my weight, so I hardly left a footprint – a 'good pulling surface' as sledgers would have it – but without warning there would be a thin spot where my foot would break through and sink in the sugar-like snow below.

Before long, the crew had finished their restock, and playtime was over.  After our exciting takeoff manoeuvres, we started climbing the mountains to the second of our tasks for the day. 

The Transantarctic Mountains, according to our pilot, are still something of a mystery.  They are a very high mountain range, but unlike the Rockies for example, they show little or no sign of buckling or other geological forces – they seem to have been lifted whole, keeping their layers of sandstone and coal and fossil-rich deposits mostly flat, with occasional intrusions of igneous rock. The range acts as a sort of massively oversized dyke, holding back the miles-deep polar ice cap from spilling over West Antarctica, the Ross Ice Shelf, and the Ross Sea, as the mountains cross the continent.

Ice appears to be solid, but it actually behaves more like a stiff jelly or fondant icing – if it finds a change in altitude it will flow, very slowly, downhill.  This is what a glacier is: snow gets deposited over many years without melting, turns to ice, and when its volume can no longer be held at elevation, starts to creep down the valley. The ice of the Polar Plateau finds gaps in the Transantarctic Mountains and pushes through them, forming glaciers which pour out onto the Ross Sea and, merging, form the Ross Ice Shelf.  The Beardmore Glacier is one of the largest of these, but there are hundreds of smaller ones, and many tributary glaciers that feed these.  In flying over the lower Transantarctic Mountains, there were plenty of opportunities to see ice dynamics at work: 

Our destination was up near the head of a narrow glacier, where it broadened out into a snowy plain called the Bowden Névé – névé being a term for young snow which has not yet compacted into glacial ice but is in a position to do so.  This was CTAM (pronounced see-tam), a geology camp established to be a hub for teams doing work in the Central TransAntarctic Mountains. The névé afforded an open, soft, flat place to land planes carrying supplies and people, who could then move on to less accessible places overland.  At least, it did, until a wind event a few years ago scoured deep furrows in the landing strip.

As we flew over, doing the visual check, I was astonished the site could be spotted at all, as it was only a small clutch of bamboo poles in the vast expanse. 

Having proven that the landing strip was landable, the next task was to see what condition the building was in.  What building, you ask?  Why, the one completely covered in snow, under the markers.  Once upon a time it was a couple of modules standing on the surface of the glacier, but Antarctica gradually swallowed them up, so now one has to dig down through the snow to reach the roof hatch, eight feet above the floor. 

On the way from the Basler to the camp site, I was treated to one signature snow effect I had missed out on, at the depot.  'The Barrier Hush' is frequently mentioned in journals: it was described as a 'whoosh' or a 'hush-shh-shhhh' that sighed out from underneath the walker as he broke through the top crust into a pocket of air underneath, where the loose snow had settled after the top crust was formed.  The pocket could sometimes extend quite a long way from where the crust was broken and the sound followed the exchange of air as far as it went.  It would startle the ponies and excite the dogs, until they learned there was nothing to chase and catch.    

I was walking some way behind the plane crew as they made for the camp with shovels, and suddenly heard what I thought was a small whirlwind – a sharp and intense, almost whistling sound that seemed to race across my path.  This being the sort of place one would expect to see dust devils (or snow devils, I suppose they would be) I looked around to see where it was, but the air was as still up here as it had been down on the ice shelf.  It was only after the second or third time it happened that I realised what it was – it was so completely not how I had imagined the Barrier Hush to sound.  If you make a little whirlwind sound by whisper-whistling whshwshywshwhwwsh with your lips really quickly, that's what it sounded like.  Having heard it, now, I can completely understand how the dogs would have thought there was a small creature scurrying around under the snow.  It sounded much more animate than it had been described.  I felt so lucky to be let into that secret. 

The crew got the hatch open and the first of them climbed down into the pitch darkness to report everything OK.  The rest followed, and invited me along, but I am not the most coordinated travelling artist, and couldn't see a way down for me that didn't end in a concussion.  So I stayed above while they explored the submerged camp, and enjoyed the view.  It was really spectacular – not just the stunning mountains but the thin, brittle blue of the sky and the hardness of the sunlight, as if the whole world were a taut drumskin. 

And, best of all, from here the horizon was the Polar Plateau – another Flat White stretching to the South Pole and beyond.

#antarctica #travel #basler #dc3 #CTAM #air freight #mountains #transantarctic mountains #bowden neve #geology #field camp #photos

[shhh-no-ones-home]

december 9 - remington leith

title: the kids from yesterday

++++

prompt: Person A finding person B hiding from their family at the holiday party and staking out with them

request from: n/a

tag list: @cynic-spirit

++++

I looked across the table with wide eyes and a shocked face as my mother argued back and forth with sebastian. The audacity of this woman had me in stitches sometimes and I was worried I wouldn't get out of this holiday dinner alive. I looked over to Em as he sipped his wine and tried not to laugh at them, exchanging glances with his own mother in a mutual understanding to not get in the middle of it. I sighed, looking to remington as he tried to avoid their gaze in case one would try to bring him into it. I just sighed. Our families had been good friends for as long as I could remember and the dinners usually went smoothly. I don't know what happened this year.

"Excuse me."

I said quietly, pushing my chair out and walking away from the table in annoyance. I stepped down the hall quickly, making it to the bathroom and locking myself in. I stared at myself in the mirror and sighed. Dinner was almost over I told myself over and over again.

"A few more hours, that's all you have to survive is a few more hours."

I said under my breath, closing my eyes and leaning my back against the wall behind me. God why was she so insufferable? And it didn't help that Seb was adding fuel to the fire. I sighed, standing back upright and going back out into the hall. When I noticed the family photos hung up I smiled for the first time since my mother had arrived. It had been a long time since we'd all been back at the Kropp family home and I'd almost forgotten some of these old memories. I looked over a few of them and laughed, remy looked so baby faced. Hell, we all did.

"Remember this one?"

Remington said and I jumped, clutching my chest and breathing heavily.

"Jesus rem, give a girl a heart attack why don't ya."

I said and he laughed a little bit.

"Maybe if I did it would stop the bickering and give them something else to do."

He said and I rolled my eyes.

"Why does it not surprise me that this year would be the difficult one."

I said in annoyance and he laughed, making me smile.

"It's been a while since we've all been together,"

He said, turning his attention back to the photos on the wall.

"A lot has changed."

I nodded, looking back to the pictures too.

"We definitely aren't the people we were back then."

I said, looking fondly at the photo of the four of us kids bundled together in our snow fort. It was held together with their old wooden sled and snow packed around a broom stick. I remember it taking us a good part of the day to build it and none of us wanting to leave when the sun went down. That was the first winter I'd spent more than one night at their house.

"Things were much simpler back then."

I noted, running my finger tips over the frame.

"I wish we could go back sometimes."

He said, draping his arm over my shoulders and resting his head on mine and I sighed.

"If we could, we wouldn't be avoiding our family members right now."

I said, making him laugh.

"Why can't we though?"

He asked, standing upright again and I raised a brow.

"Rem what are you talking about?"

I asked and he grabbed my hand, pulling me back down the hall and to the front room.

"Here, we're making a snow fort."

He said boldly, handing me my coat. I raised a brow as he quickly put his on.

"It is dark and freezing out there."

I said, watching him slide his boots on.

"That's never stopped us before. Come on, we're only home for a week."

He said, standing and handing me my boots.

"Please."

He said and I caved.

"Fine."

I said, slipping my boots and coat on, digging my hands into my pockets for my gloves.

"Great, let's go."

He said, grabbing my hand again and dragging me out the front door. As the wind hit my face I breathed out heavily, a puff of smoke coming from my mouth and making me smile.

"Wanna dig out a hole first?"

He asked and I nodded, looking to the side of the house for the shovel used to clear the driveway.

"Here."

I said, grabbing it and starting on the snow.

---

As we finished the walls and began on the roof I heard the front door click open.

"Found them!"

I heard emerson say before hearing the crunch of his boots in the snow. When I looked up through the window he was peering down into it with a smile on his face.

"Just like old times?"

He asked and I looked to rem who had a huge smile on his face.

"How about you get in here and find out."

He said, tossing a snowball out the window and into emersons face. We all laughed as he reached down to make one of his own

"You're gonna regret that."

Em said and remington moved to climb out of our snow house.

"Only if you can keep up!"

He taunted. I watched out the window as emerson chased him around the yard before getting up myself and getting out of there. I leaned down and made a snowball as sebastian opened the front door.

"You didn't come back."

He said, slipping his coat on.

"Incoming!"

I yelled, launching the ball at him and it hitting him square in the chest just after he'd zipped it closed.

"Come on!"

He said, grabbing a handful of snow off the step and chucking it at me. It just barely missed me, crumbling to the ground.

"Guess you'll have to catch me!"

I yelled, running around with remy and em as they continued in circles around the yard, seb now joining in on it. Before I knew what was happening there were arms around my waist, tackling me to the ground.

"AAAHHHH!"

I yelled, seb, em, and remy all piling on top of me and laughing hysterically.

"Ah! Get off?!

I said through a laugh, the three of them rolling around into the snow. I laid there, smiling like an idiot staring at the start filled sky. It was begin to snow lightly and I could feel my hair getting wetter under my hat.

"So, what inclined you two to make that?"

Sebastian asked, pointing to the snow fort as he sat up.

"A little childhood nostalgia."

Remington said, sending me a knowing smile and I nodded.

"Nothing like the good old times right?"

I asked and he laughed.

"Right."

#25 days of christmas requests #remington leith #imagines #one shots #palaye royale

[imaginingsoftly]

Home Videos - Tyson Jost

Type: childhood friends to lovers, Y/N insert shorts

Requested: Yes

Warnings: swearing

(Y/N = Your name)

A/N: From prompt list, #59 (“How is it that you’re so stupid and so hot at the same time?”)

You hated summertime. For 9 months out of the year you could go about your life in Edmonton completely unbothered, minus the couple of trips Tyson made to play the Oilers, but those three months always came too soon. When Tyson had been drafted and everyone else had moved away for college or to start their careers you had all agreed to meet up at least once a year for a week of catching up, a promise that no one had broken in the three years since. For the third time that week, you were holding your finger over the green button to call Tyson and tell him you were busy and wouldn’t make it to the cabin. It wasn’t necessarily a lie; you were an ER nurse, and getting a week off wasn’t easy if you were to have tried to get it on short notice, but Tyson knew you. He knew that you wouldn’t have forgotten that week, and that something else was happening. 

You’d already told Syd you wouldn’t be there. She had yelled at you over the course of the last week for being an idiot, that you just needed to tell Tyson you were in love with him, but you knew better. He was bringing a girl home with him this year. He’d called you after their first date over the moon, raving about how much you’d love her and how he couldn’t wait to bring her around. Syd had talked to you for hours that night as you’d cried. It was irrational, and you knew that, but that knowledge didn’t make hearing about Tyson kissing another girl any easier. You also felt guilty. This was your best friend, your oldest friend, and he really wanted you to meet this girl. You wanted to be happy for him, to welcome her into the friend group with a smile and the multitude of embarrassing stories you had about Tyson from your years living next door to each other, but you didn’t think you could do it. Honestly, just thinking about it had you almost in tears. 

You clicked out of Tyson’s contact. 

Not tonight. 

Two days later, you were staring down at your phone screen as Tyson’s contact photo again lit up your face in the darkness of your living room. You were sitting alone in a small pity party, watching an old home video, a hockey game between all of the neighborhood kids from when you and Tyson were eight or nine. You mom had been in a home video phase then, and you had some great footage of yours and Tyson’s shenanigans over the years. Somewhere there was a video of the time Tyson decided to shovel the snow off of his roof by himself, and had gotten himself stuck in the snow headfirst when he fell off of the roof. You had run over there laughing, and the video captured the hilarity of the two of you as he had yelled for help and you had grabbed his ankles and pulled ineffectively. Your dad had eventually gone out there to help, clearing out the snow enough for Tyson to get himself upright again. It was one your parents never failed to pull out every winter, to which Tyson would declare it his proudest moment. 

Your phone lit up again with a voicemail, and you turned it facedown and snuggled deeper into your blanket. The pickup game was still happening, and you and Tyson were dominating the game. It had always been like that; Tyson had been the only one of you to go pro, but he had done his best to convince you to play as well. You were good, and you knew that when you could keep up with and even beat a lot of the boys as you guys got older. Tyson was your favorite centerman. He knew where you were going to be, and you knew the same about him. It was probably because your dad had taught the two of you how to play, but you liked to think it was some kind of special connection forged over all that time spent together dreaming and skating around whatever ice surface you could find.

A knock at your door almost made you fall off your couch. It was almost one am, and there was no one in Edmonton who would be knocking on your door at that time of night. You crept off the couch cautiously, and another knock, louder this time, made you jump again. “Y/N come on! I know you’re in there.” Tyson’s voice sounded through the door, and you stopped short before hurrying to open the door. “Tys? What’re you doing here?” His curls flopped in his eyes as he stared down at you tiredly. “Well Syd told me you couldn’t get the time off to come visit, but I know that’s bullshit, so spill.” He shoved past you as he spoke, closing the door and pulling you into him in one motion. You sighed into the soft cotton of his shirt, and his arms wrapped around you a little tighter. This was what made lying so hard. Besides how familiar his hugs were, Tyson had a knack for getting under your guard without you even realizing it. If he asked you right now why you weren’t in St. Albert you knew you’d probably tell him without much thought. “I missed you,” he whispered, “and there was no way in hell I wasn’t gonna see you, even if I have to smother the truth out of you.” You pulled back to look at him incredulously. “Smother it out of me?” He smirked at you, nodding. “I know you’re lying, and I want to know why. Who is he?” 

Tyson was heading for your kitchen as he spoke, and you knew he was looking for the Oreos you always had on hand. “Top left cabinet. What do you mean who is he? You’re the one with the relationship, not me.” You tried not to sound too upset, but Tyson saw right through you. Oreo fell out of Tyson’s mouth as he spoke, and he waved the Oreo in his left hand dismissively. “Yeah we didn’t last. She wanted me to change my phone background after like the third date. Got pissed when I wouldn’t do it.” He held up his phone, and you smiled. It was a picture of the two of you from last summer, when you’d made a trip out to Maine to enjoy the New England coast and Tyson had convinced you to go to every lobster shack in Portland, of which there were many. The two of you were standing on one of the rocky beaches in Portland, in front of an old lighthouse that Tyson had loved. “You know, Tys, she probably didn’t like the fact that she was dating someone who had another girl on his lockscreen.” Tyson shrugged, putting his phone back in his pocket and shoving another Oreo in his mouth. “My lockscreen is for pictures that are important to me. That picture is one of my favorite recent memories of us. Katie and I didn’t have any photos together that were worth a lockscreen.” You cringed a little bit. Hopefully he didn’t word it to her that way, because otherwise he was deserving of a smack, not just a breakup. 

It was hard to come up with a response to that, so you stared into your living room instead. Tyson looked out there too, and visibly brightened when he saw what was on the TV. “You’re watching that? I have to see this.” He ran into the living room and fell back onto the couch, gesturing at you. “C’mon shorty, reminisce with me!” Tyson pulled you into him when you sat on the couch, and you rested your head on his shoulder. It was nice to sit and watch these videos alone, but watching them with Tyson was even better. This was your shared history, and getting to chirp him for all of the stupid shit he did was so nice it was almost like high school again. The video ended and you started to get up to play another one when Tyson tightened his arm around your waist. “Why did you decide not to come out, Y/N?” 

“Tys,” 

“No, Y/N,” he interrupted, “don’t call me that and then give me some bullshit excuse. We never get to see each other all at once anymore, except this one week out of an entire year, and you bailed for no good reason. I know you could’ve gotten the time off, so stop lying to me and tell me the damn truth!”

Tyson’s eyes were lit up in anger, something you weren’t used to being on the receiving end of. He never looked at you like this, except maybe that time you’d walked home by yourself after his game one night and one of his teammates saw you and called him. He’d shown up at your parents house that night so mad he was shaking, and he was getting close to that point right now. You stood, and this time he let you. His eyes tracked your movements as you walked to the window, staring out at the city rather than looking at him. “I thought you were bringing Katie. I know you wanted me to meet her, Tys, but I couldn’t do it.” 

You paused, trying to decide how you were going to do this. It was probably going to put a ton of strain on a lifelong friendship, but he deserved the truth. Tyson stood, coming to stand behind you. He grabbed your shoulder gently to turn you around, and his eyes had become impossibly soft. “How is it that you’re so stupid and so hot at the same time?” You smacked his shoulder, an instant reaction after a lifetime of chirps. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He cupped your cheeks. 

“I’m in love with you, dumbass. Why do you think girls never last? Do you know how many of them tell me to choose between you and them? Like I’m gonna give up my person for a girl I’ve known for like two months.” He cocked his head, shaking his head at you. “I need my emotional support Y/N in my life. I’ve been trying to man up enough to tell you, and EJ has started threatening bodily harm. He’s tired of me pining and circling our Edmonton trip on my calendar.” That definitely sounded like EJ. 

The two of you stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. It had been years since you two had really laughed like this, definitely since before Tyson had been drafted. You hit his shoulder again. “I can’t believe you didn’t just tell me.” 

“Me?! What about you?” Fair enough. “Well how about I tell you now? I love you and I’m gonna be really pissed if the next girl you take out isn’t me.” Tyson rubbed his thumb across your cheek before leaning down to kiss you gently. It felt right, like the piece of you that left with him three years ago was back in place. “I love you too,” he whispered against your lips. You pulled him in close for a hug, and breathed in his cologne. “I guess I owe everybody an apology, eh?” Tyson nodded against your head. “We’ll head out there tomorrow. They’ll be happy when they know why.” 

Tomorrow sounded good. Tyson walked over to your pile of home videos, shuffling through them until he saw one that made him laugh. The two of you settled into the couch again, and you laughed as well when you saw what he had put on. There was a summer where you and Tyson and the others had decided you were going to be a band, and had gotten hold of Syd’s older brother’s instruments. The sound was awful, Syd the only one who could play any instruments, and Tyson’s singing voice had been enough for Syd’s cranky old neighbor to call the cops because she thought somebody was getting murdered. The concert you’d recorded was perfectly horrible, the kind of thing you considered sending to EJ so that he could give it to the Avs video people for their jumbotron. 

This was the kind of scene you had been hoping was in your future, and you were glad it was finally happening for real.

#NHL Imagine #nhl imagines #Tyson Jost imagine

[spookyspaghettisundae]

It Was That Time of Year Again

Cold winter nights came early, even in the idyllic town of Greenwick. But unlike other, similar settlements throughout North America, this quaint little pocket of suburbia just shone all the brighter.

A picturesque coating of powdery snow reflected all the light, amplifying the glow of bright windows and Christmas lights and elaborate illuminated decorations, all gleaming from the perfect houses and their roofs and their lawns. The sun had barely set, leaving behind a sliver of bright orange glow on the horizon, complementing the kaleidoscope of warm and dazzling artificial lights.

It all brought a smile to Caroline’s face. She rode in her car down the wide and sleepy streets of her hometown. The comfort of her vehicle’s heating helped create a cozy cocoon of nostalgia. While the car rolled down the freshly-plowed road at a lazy pace, some friendly folks in the neighborhood who recognized her waved at her, replete with cheery smiles on their faces.

She basked in the glow of the serenity of this place where she had grown up, having returned here from the big city for the first time in a decade. Everything was perfect. More perfect than she ever remembered, or had envisioned when she packed her bags for the holiday season.

Too perfect.

Before Caroline reached the next turn to take, she spotted a familiar old face. Jacob Brooks—his face now a roadmap of wrinkles that portrayed the lines of a happy life lived, framed by a full head of salt and pepper hair—looked up just in time for their gazes to meet.

Both their faces lit up, beaming at each other in recognition and happy over the reunion. Caroline waved and stifled a giggle, then pulled her car over to stop at the curb by Jacob’s snow-covered lawn.

He ceased his toil of shoveling snow out of his driveway and sauntered over to her car, just in time for her to lower the passenger seat window and lean over.

“Now you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said with a chuckle, shooting her a wink. “Looks to me like someone got bored with the big important city life. What in good God’s name brought you back to our humble little town?”

Her smile widened and her eyelids fluttered as she struggled to come up with an answer. Always that pressure for finding the proper amount of eloquence.

“The family keeps rotating where we meet up for the holiday season each year, and we finally agreed to come back here for one last time before talking about selling the old house.”

Jacob’s smile stayed on his face, but it twitched and masked the shadow of a frown.

Caroline hated disappointing anybody, though, and almost squealed when she blurted out, “But I’m going to buy out and renovate the place.”

Jacob nodded and the earnest air returned to mingle with his smile, making it honest again.

“Now, you see, that’s somethin’ I love to hear,” he said. “Bright mind and beautiful smile like yours? Always welcome, here in Greenwick. Yoz'odrhaxz.”

A shiver ran down Caroline’s spine and she tasted something metallic in her mouth. Something that reminded her of copper. She blinked and took a moment to process what he had just said, which all sounded great except for the final and unintelligible syllables.

“Sorry,” she said, face twisting to underline her apology. “What did you just say?”

Jacob blinked and his brow furrowed in confusion before he replied, “I said you’re always welcome, here in Greenwick. Yoz'odrhaxz.”

There it was again. Tying her innards up in a knot, driving her pulse to speed up, ever so slightly. Making the warmth of her car’s heating clash with the cold wintry air pouring in from the open window where Jacob peered inside. The cocoon stopped feeling as safe as it had, and something dark and inky started blending in with the soup of nostalgia that her mind had been swimming in.

Yoz'odrhaxz. Those sounds were all wrong. She had never heard them before, but hearing them twice left her feeling deeply unsettled. For a split second, she wondered if she was having a stroke. She didn’t want to hear that ever again. Then she realized how long and awkward this silence must have been growing between them, accentuated only by the thrum and soft vibrations of her car’s running motor.

She forced a smile onto her face and hoped it reached her eyes. The mask she had learned to wear, growing in Greenwick—the mask that had gotten her so far in the big city.

“Well, I gotta get going, I’m already running a little bit late,” she told him.

He smiled again. At least it looked genuine—it helped take off some of her edge.

“You are the last one I expected,” he said, wagging a finger at her. Another warm and fuzzy chuckle erupted from his throat.

Just before the edge had bid its final farewells, it bubbled back up, returning in full force. From the corner of her eye, Caroline saw the blood draining from her face. Realized with delay how her brain parsed the words after her gut did. Her gut, that was now tied up in a thick, heavy knot.

You are the last one.

I expected.

You are the last one.

She gave him an awkward wave and pushed a button on her console. The window began rolling back up to close. The smile stayed on his face, like a frozen mask. It looked authentic enough, but offered no chance of dispelling the dread that now took root inside the dark recesses of her mind.

The same place where nebulous memories lurked. She struggled to recall how she had gotten here. The blur of slapping that alarm clock to make it cease its annoying beeping, early that morning. How she packed—

Jacob knocked on the window just after it had shut completely.

Caroline swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and pushed the button again. Lowered the window till it was open again, but just a crack.

“Hey, um, why don’t you stop by? Y'know, like, whenever. I’d love to catch up, talk about old times, and such,” he said. “W-we, uh—we c-could go grab a coffee at the diner—it’s still there, hasn’t changed one bit since you, uh, rode outta town.”

His smile had transformed into something fiercely nervous. So innocent, so downright adorable that Caroline could not help but find it sweet.

She nodded and told him she’d love that, then hastily rolled up the window and drove off.

Still, she smiled at Jacob through her rear view mirror as she drove off, accelerating to a speed just slightly over the limit. She still used her signal light as she took her left turn on the deserted roads. He raised a hand for a motionless wave in parting, picking up his snow shovel but not returning to work on his driveway.

She expected him to return to shoveling snow but he continued standing there, watching her drive away until her course had put other houses in between them. Smiling all the while. Two masked people. Pretending nothing was wrong.

Caroline found no way to shake that feeling, unable to forget those ghastly syllables that had escaped his throat. Like someone choking on broken glass and shattered dreams.

Yoz'odrhaxz.

She had in no way merely imagined him saying that. Not twice.

But she also felt with a sense of certainty: he either did not realize it himself, or he knew very well and kept up a perfect guise of feigned ignorance. Either way only made her insides knot up even tighter.

Focusing on the road helped, though. Those streaks of tire treads that ripped through the thin sheen of snow on the asphalt. The ostentatious displays of Santas and cartoonish reindeer and fake snowmen, all decked out in clusters of brightly glowing lights.

The sun died beyond the horizon. That last sliver of natural orange light vanished with it. The one solace the sky still gave Caroline? She could now clearly see the twinkling stars, littering the dark void of the heavens. Tiny beacons, lonesome on their own, varying in their intensity, but brilliant and pretty as a whole. And comforting.

Her knuckles had turned white from gripping the steering wheel with such force that she could practically hear the faux leather crack under the sheer pressure. Taking a deep breath and pushing it out in a calming sigh accompanied her releasing some of that tension, loosening her hold and trying to clear her mind.

But the horrid syllables refused to go away.

They summoned something else from the darkest corners of her recollections. She remembered every highlight of the day, every dreary stretch of monotony that had constituted the hours of driving all the way out here.

The uncomfortable thing that haunted her thoughts was a dream she had suffered through last night. In it, she had returned to Greenwick but was another person entirely, a woman named Rita. And waking up to the alarm clock’s beeping, it had taken so many moments of disoriented stumbling around to realize that she was, in fact, Caroline, and not Rita.

She was, in fact, driving home to Greenwick to see her family. She was going to break the news to them about paying off all the outstanding debts on the house and fixing it back up. Maybe even moving back out here. Unlike Rita, who thought she was being chased by vampires, eventually hiding out in her old home from former neighbors and family members turned monsters.

The vampires in that dream wore masks fashioned out of strips of human skin, stitched together. They did not drink blood, they did not have super-powers. They just made you wear one of their hideous masks when they caught you. She spent most of her dream running, attempting to evade and avoid the vampires.

The circle of thoughts—cycling back and forth between the bizarre dream of Rita’s night of terror, and the reality of herself, Caroline, returning to her hometown—it occupied her mind to the point of complete absorption. It helped keep those syllables at bay.

When Gina, one of her best friends from growing up, flagged her from her brightly lit porch, Rita finally snapped out of it. Or rather, Caroline snapped out of Rita, and snapped out of the haze of last night’s dream invading her consciousness.

She pulled up to the curb of the sidewalk in front of Gina’s home. Cut the engine and got out. Gina’s expression kept alternating between happiness and something scrunched up, like she was about to break out into tears. Caroline slammed the door shut, and the two of them walked towards each other, eventually falling into a warm and loving embrace, with the fabric of their thick jackets rustling in the process.

“Oh my God,” Gina breathed, pushing away from her but maintaining a hold on Caroline’s arms. “Oh my. I’m so happy to see you.”

Their breath condensed in front of their mouths in tiny little clouds. Caroline fought back some tears.

“It has been way too long,” she told Gina. “I’m so sorry about—”

“No, listen. Don’t you apologize about nothing. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard things must have been, but I totally get it. Wouldn’t have minded a line or two, though.”

Caroline slid out of Gina’s hold till she found her old friend’s gloved hands and could tenderly grab hold of them. The Christmas lights all around them began to blur in the haze of tears as they welled up in the corners of her eyes. The tiny little twinkling stars in the sky stretched into bright streaks and crosses.

“We’re gonna make it right this time, I promise,” Gina said with a trembling voice, choking on first waves of an urge to start sobbing. “Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Bhaor'mer.”

Chills ran down Caroline’s spine. She shivered, especially in reading something resembling fear in Gina’s face.

“Ovhaioct, Khithalak,” Gina said. “Bhaor'mer.”

She smiled through tearful eyes at Caroline. That smile carried not only elation over seeing her again after all these years—and all those circumstances behind them—but also a profound sense of sadness, twinkling in the reflection of the stars in the tears in her eyes.

Paralysis had seized Caroline, locked up her every limb. Those syllables, just as horrible as the ones that had come from Jacob’s mouth, though different one and all.

Sometimes, a vivid dream breaks just the right way with reality, allowing the dreamer to realize that the experience is but a fabrication of the sleeping mind.

This was not one of those times.

That taste of snow delivered by the fresh wintry air; that warm sweet breath of Gina’s, reaching and grazing over the exposed skin of Caroline’s face; those endearing displays of Christmas decorations surrounding them; everything imprinted her every waking second with so many vivid impressions that it could not be a mere dream.

Everything here in Greenwick was perfect. Too perfect, like it had been lifted right out of one of those sappy holiday movies. Everything except for those syllables, crunching through Caroline’s thoughts like heavy boots in snow, like tires on gravel. Grinding, and chewing, and chomping. Smacking. Something hungry.

Gina embraced her so quickly, so forcefully. It took Caroline by surprise. The embrace was still so warm—comforting, even. Still so loving. The fabric of their jackets rustled again as the embrace tightened. A gloved hand rested on the back of Caroline’s head.

A whisper in her ear, “Play along. Or else.”

Words nobody ever wants to hear. Especially not like this.

They boosted Caroline’s pulse to a racing thrum, the heartbeat pounding away in a crazed orchestration with the rushing of blood in her ears.

“Go,” Gina breathed, her lips brushing against Caroline’s ear, so close were they, sending a tingling sensation down her spine. This one pleasant. But not enough to override the growing horror of the words she spoke. “Pretend everything’s normal. Don’t say a thing.”

Gina pushed her away again, still smiling. Still teary-eyed. But it had all transformed into a mask. Hiding something else. Something that matched or even eclipsed the fear that Caroline now felt. In sync with her pounding heart, her fingers throbbed as Gina slipped completely from their embrace and backed away.

“Don’t be a stranger now,” Gina laughed. But the words and the laughter all felt forced. Staged. They were all theater kids back in the day, and none of them good. That much had not changed.

Gina silently mouthed a single word.

“Go.”

Caroline wanted to say something in return, but nothing fitting came to mind. And even if she could think of anything, fear had tightly gripped her throat.

All she managed to eke out, croaking it like a toad, was a feeble, “Bye.”

The moment she turned away and returned to her car with hasty steps, those syllables wanted to surface in her thoughts. She did not let them, pushed them down. Slamming the car door helped. The growl of the engine as she sped up while driving away also helped her stop thinking.

Right now, thinking was the enemy.

Caroline stepped on the gas, hoping to get back to the old family home as fast as possible without going over the speed limit. Snow be damned.

Even with nightfall, everything in town looked beautiful. A grotesque contrast to the nightmare she was living through now. The sea of artificial lights shed such perfect clarity on the shapes and outlines of all the perfect homes and yards and picket fences and mailboxes and gaudy Christmas ornaments.

And people stood outside. Caroline resolved to just wave and smile and pretend everything was normal and alright if they tried to flag her over like Jacob and Gina had. But none of them—neither familiar nor unfamiliar faces—none of them had eyes for her.

They were all looking at the sky. At some intangible spot.

That void between the stars.

The lights started going out. Streetlights went first, cascading from shedding bright light in her rear view mirror until they caught up and overtook her car, all switching off. Then all the decorative Christmas lights, house by house, street by street.

All the lights in the houses went out next. The whole town descended into darkness. The pit in Caroline’s stomach tightened.

What remained were the car’s headlights, casting blinding cones of wavering white onto the snowy road in front of her as she sped down it. Then even those lights went out. Then the tiny lights on her dashboard.

Caroline’s heart thundered, sounding like a whole horde of people pounding against the windows of her car. Drowned out every thought. Her palms grew slick with sweat, robbing her of her grip on the steering wheel.

Dread. That exploded into panic when finally, the stars winked out.

Caroline hit the brakes and almost threw up, feeling the force of inertia as the car skidded to a halt, combined with that very panic, that coppery taste in her mouth, now stronger than ever.

As she gazed into the darkness of the sky where stars once twinkled, daring not to breathe as if the sky itself might hear her, she thought of her dream. Thought she might be Rita, dreaming of being Caroline in this nightmare. Chased, hunted. Prey.

But this was no dream.

And that darkness, she began to understand, it grew. The stars did not just wink out all at once. They flickered—blinked. The sky parted, split in half somewhere. It opened to a void, darker than black. Hungry.

She got out of the car, thinking it would help wake her up. Instead, the chill of wintry air only made things more unpleasant.

People murmured those awful syllables. Or they spoke, or shouted them, and the distance reduced it to muttering in her ears.

The sky had stopped being a sky. It had texture. It moved. It yawned.

A breeze swept over her, but it had nothing in common with wintry air. It was warm and damp. Like breath. But like the breath of something huge, of something monolithic.

Like the sky exhaled upon her. A sigh of exhaustion.

Caroline laughed. Not the kind of laugh that explodes from one’s mouth as a consequence of amusement. The kind that clatters out like a bag of marbles clacking down, spilling out all over the floor. The kind that is shrill, like a knife being whisked over a whetstone.

The kind of laughter that people call crazy.

Though more than anything, Caroline understood now. She understood it all. The puzzle pieces had fallen neatly into place. The awful, unnatural words had wormed their way into her mind, setting root and seeding her thoughts with a clarity not meant for human brains.

Yoz'odhraxz awoke. It was time to feed.

It was that time of year again, and this year, Greenwick was on the menu. Nobody resisted because they had been groomed for this moment all their lives. Frozen behind their masks, nobody screamed.

Not even Caroline.

—Submitted by Wratts

#spoospasu #spookyspaghettisundae #horror #short story #writing #my writing #literature #spooky #fiction #submission #hellmark #Christmas #holidays #happy holidays #merry christmas #eldritch #lovecraftian #cosmic #strange #watched #isolation #helplessness #monster

[snowbellewells]

Savior’s Haven {Part Two of Two}

by: @snowbellewells

Here, at last, is the woefully delayed conclusion to my contribution for the @csseptembersunshine event. I hope it will still be enjoyable despite its tardiness. Thanks so much to @captainsjedi for introducing such a lovely event and allowing me to take part, and to all the lovely ladies on the @cssns Discord chat who offered a wealth of name suggestions to me back when I was working on Part One - particularly @shireness-says @profdanglaisstuff @snidgetsafan @darkcolinodonorgasm and @kmomof4. 

This continues from Part One (which can be found here) and is what I call “missing moment fluff”, meant to be taking place sometime post season six in Storybrooke, but before Henry leaves and prior to Hope’s birth.

{Well, I must say...I really didn’t intend to keep you waiting so long for Part Two to wrap this all up. Technically, now it’s October, but I hope you will still enjoy the conclusion of this fic all the same. Thanks so much for all the lovely likes and kudos on this story’s first part! They were very much appreciated…. And now, here’s Part Two…}

Savior’s Haven

Part Two

As it turned out, Rolly and Oliver were only the start of a train of outcasts and strays - lost souls one and all - who began to make their way to Emma and Killian’s home by the harbor in Storybrooke.  Even if there was some occasional wondering about having enough room or rearranging how all of the house’s occupants might fit, neither sheriff nor sailor had the heart to turn anyone, young person or beast, away from the only thing both of them had ever wanted and finally had to share - a home.

Not long after Oliver had left their house for college in the Land Without Magic and Henry had gone through the portal he’d procured to explore the realms and find his own story, Emma found herself feeling the loss of their once quite full nest. She would never trade the quiet evening strolls she and Killian took around the town, both in an effort to lessen Rolly’s boundless energy before he destroyed the entire first floor, and to enjoy the crisp scent in the autumn air and the crunch of fallen leaves under their steps. It was a genuine luxury to actually have downtime together merely to look at the Fall oranges and reds transforming their tiny town and take in the cool temperatures and the cozy smells of cookout bonfires on the air arm-in-arm with her husband, Emma’s head resting easily on Killian’s shoulder. Still, despite that priceless comfort and harmony, as much a novelty as it was, Emma couldn’t help missing the hum and bustle of a house full of life and action, crammed to the ceiling with the marvelous chaos that she had enjoyed for the last couple of years.

Yes, she had long been part of the shuffle of too many kids no one wanted in one foster home after another; all shoved in under one roof with not enough room, not enough food, and never enough attention or affection. But what a difference just a bit of love made, turning a crowd within four walls into a family. If she could give that to kids like her, so they didn’t need to spend years of their lives feeling unwanted, then she would do it. And she knew that Killian’s childhood had been even more scarring, and that he absolutely shared her desire to offer better where it was needed.

Granted, they had also been trying for a child of their own, but so far they’d had no luck. Emma didn’t want to stress over it unduly, but the doubt and fears couldn’t be fully kept at bay. Even if there were no real medical reasons behind it, she tormented herself wondering if the trauma of having Henry so young, shackled to a bed in as high a stress environment as prison, without the best prenatal care or nutrition, had done some damage she had been unaware of, or left some scar tissue that made conceiving again more difficult. In her guiltier moments, she struggled to dismiss the creeping voice that whispered, “You had a healthy, perfect little boy, and you gave him up.” Regardless of her unselfish intentions at the time for Henry being able to have his best chance, during the darkest hours of a late night or early morning, when sleep eluded her, Emma found herself fearing that maybe she just didn’t get a second chance.

Killian was unfailingly gentle, sweet, and patient with her; encouraging her that they had all the time in the world for a babe of their own, the rest of their lives together. Still, she knew her pirate had regrets and blame of his own that he shouldered when he thought no one was looking. He had lived in Neverland, completely outside the normal passage of time, and while he might appear only slightly older than her, in reality, he had lived for centuries. Was he too old to father a child? Was they why they kept failing to get pregnant?

It wasn’t something that could be easily answered, and making themselves crazy certainly wouldn’t improve their odds, so most times both Sheriff and her deputy tried to put their desire for a little one of their own out of mind and to focus on the many happy moments they enjoyed. They baby-sat the little prince - Emma’s brother was now nearly ten and a ball of energy interested in practically every sport, activity and skill under the sun, when her mother and father needed to get away for a date night. Killian took to helping Belle reorganize and reshelve the books in the library on free afternoons and evenings, and added an extra frisson of excitement for the regularly attending children when he dressed up in character for the storytime selection Belle read, or when he served as enthusiastic reader himself.

Emma discovered she found it quite therapeutic to go out to the beanfield Anton tended on the outskirts of town and burn up frustration or anxiety digging, shoveling, raking, weeding, or whatever the gentle giant needed done. He’d made himself a regular attraction by this point - especially in the Fall, since he also nurtured a pumpkin patch and sold berry preserves and cider from plants grown himself. She’d always had a soft spot for Anton, and many of the dwarves who often worked there as well were much more palatable in the fields than when they were running into the station yelling the alert about whatever new danger had arrived in town or forcing her to play referee in their own petty disputes. Even Leroy was markedly less Grumpy out in the brisk air with solid, dependable work at hand to do. His gruff ‘Mornin’ Sister,” if she was able to join them early in the day, and his handing her a shovel or hoe as she took the row next to him seemed to be his way of accepting her into their number, and though Emma wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone else, it did warm her heart each time. The bearded man who would have been an “uncle” of sorts to her in another life seemed less abrasive and more grudgingly affectionate the more time that passed.

Whatever the case might be, and whatever else they found to do or to fill their time, Emma knew the wish was still present in both their minds. Though Henry and Killian’s house operation, the place they had dreamed of sharing with her even in her darkest moments when she had felt almost lost to them both, had long since become each of them’s first true home, some part of her still wanted it full of giggles and mischievous whispers, shrieks of glee and the slap of little bare feet on the hardwood floors.

One night, about a year after Oliver had left for college and Henry had set off for other realms, Emma had gone down to the docks as evening neared, anxious to see her husband after a day spent at separate tasks, and to walk home with his warm, familiar arm wrapped comfortably over her shoulders. She had made a casserole that was one of Killian’s favorites from dinners with her mom, dad, and little brother; she had followed Snow’s instructions to the letter and was anxious to see how it had turned out. Home cooking was still not what Emma would call a strength of hers, but she was getting better… she hoped.

However, as she neared Killian’s ship, docked in its assigned slip at the harbor, Emma noticed the sky had gone rather suddenly dark, wind gusting distressingly through the sails and spars and whistling loudly. She had to genuinely lean into the breeze with determination as she reached the side and then took Killian’s outstretched hook when he saw her coming up the gangplank, pulling her into his arms as she clambered over and onto the deck. 

“Bit of a squall on its way, eh Love?” he murmured against her hair, brow raised in teasing question as he pulled back just slightly to study her rather anxious face.

She gave him a soft smile, reaching light fingers up to brush over the scar on his cheekbone. “Well, I came to walk you home for supper, but do you first need help battening down the hatches, Captain?”

Her pirate shook his head, chuckling lightly at her playful banter. He had already secured the Jolly as well as could be accomplished, having an innate, almost sixth sense for inclement weather after so many years on the sea. She might be tossed on the swells that were already beginning to rise and fall and to rock the hull wildly, but the old girl had withstood much worse in her time, and she would still be there come the morrow. “She’s all set, actually,” he answered, moving to grab his jacket, scarf and the other items he needed, ready to head home with her, but unable to resist teasing back at least a bit. “The Jolly’s a steady lass, Swan. She’ll manage the weather just fine.”

They were both prepared to disembark for the docks and be on their way, when a frightened howl of distress met their ears over the wind whipping the sails and the water smacking against the wooden sides.

Swinging back around in concern, they both sought the source of the animal cry for help in the rapidly darkening and turbulent surroundings. However, it was a sailor’s sharp eye which let Killian find the distressed and already bedraggled mass of wet grey and brown fluff somehow tangled in the rigging a few feet over their heads. Probably the poor thing was a stray, not long separated from its mother and littermates by the size of him, and might have begun the climb for fun, but was now both entangled and terrified, and nearly drenched from the rain which had begun pelting down around them.

“Oh, there he is!” Emma cried out once she spotted their poor feline victim as well; illuminated in his uncomfortable perch by a startling flash of lightning. “How did he even get up there?”

Both of them moved almost as one in an effort to reach the poor kitten wriggling valiantly to free itself, ‘mewing’ pitifully to beg help of anyone who would listen. However, Killian, with years of practice manuevering about his ship in all sorts of weather, and with a natural agility and grace that never ceased to leave Emma marveling, was quickly hopping up onto the railing, and had a foot in the rigging himself, a couple steps bringing him close enough to reach their unhappy stowaway, before Emma could even figure out how to proceed.

The yowling of the tiny creature intensified as Killian stepped onto the rope, probably squeezing the poor little guy, Emma realized, if he were tangled tightly enough. “Swan!” her husband shouted over the ever-increasing wind and rain. “I can’t unravel him! Get the knife from my boot and hand it up to me!”

Moving quickly, Emma did as he asked, and finally, with a few expert slices, the kitten was free, cradled to Killian’s chest beneath his jacket. The wretched squalling now lowering to a more plaintive and pitiful refrain. A few seconds later, her husband was alighting on the solid deck once more and holding out his rescued prize for her inspection.

Unwinding her own scarf and wrapping it around the nearly weightless seeming body of skin, bones, and fluff, Emma cooed to the tiny cat gently, hoping to soothe and reassure the frightened animal that it was safe with them now. She looked up at Killian, who was shivering slightly and fairly drenched himself, but all the same, appeared rather pleased with his efforts and watched the new critter - clearly already one of their own - burrow into Emma’s warmth and begin to purr with such gentle affection that it made Emma’s chest swell in response. 

“Let’s get you both home, dry you off and warm him up, and see what we can do for this little guy,” Emma suggested, squeezing Killian’s hand gratefully for his kindness and caring and wanting him to know how glad she was he had scaled the height for a poor, lost cat.  

*****~~~*****~~~*****

The next day’s trip to the veterinary clinic on Storybrooke’s outskirts confirmed what they had already nearly determined for themselves in the intervening hours - their scrawny but handsome new arrival was malnourished but otherwise quite well, except for the fact that he seemed unable to use his right front paw and leg, the appendage having been caught for too long with blood flow cut off, rendering it useless and mostly dead weight. 

Yet, even if they had suspected as much, the vet’s stark, unconcerned manner had Emma’s eyes immediately welling up, tears starting quickly with empathy, while Killian went tensely still and quiet beside her, his only motion to reach out and caress the kitten’s striped head in comfort. The vet went on to caution them that there was simply too much risk of infection and swelling, artery blockage or gangrene. It simply wasn’t viable to leave the leg. But he didn’t seem to realize what dangerous ground he was treading on when he suggested that the animal could be put down painlessly at little cost to them rather than their needing to take in a maimed stray and force it to live life on only three legs, until the sheriff’s eyes flashed a venomous, angry emerald at him when she gathered the cat to her chest protectively.

“And just what makes you think we wouldn’t care for a cat with a few more needs?”she challenged hotly, letting Dr. Terrence Doolittle know just how seriously he had stuck his foot into his mouth. “I don’t recall asking if you thought he was worth saving, or even what you thought we should do - just what he needed.”

The Savior was practically vibrating in her indignation, looking as though she might not even turn what was clearly their new pet over to him again to perfrom the necessary operation. He remembered belatedly just how powerful a magic wielder she was, as well as the upholder of the law in Storybrooke, and found himself hoping he wouldn’t end up a newt or a lawn statue before he could apologize and insist he had meant no offense. Before any of that could happen though, her husband gently took the kitten from Sheriff Swan - as it had begun to squirm and mew uncomfortably at her distressed and tigthening hold. A gently staying touch of his namesake brushed back her hair in what was clearly a familiar and soothing gesture, and the sight of the steely appendage suddenly made the cause of her ire all too clear.

Emma Swan visibly calmed at her husband’s caress, blowing out a harsh breath and stepping back before she answered in a tersely clipped but more collected voice, “If the amputation is needed, then please just do it. Whatever he needs to be as comfortable and healthy as possible. We’ll take care of him from there, alright?”

“Yes, Sheriff, of course,” the man agreed readily, nodding with vigor. Adding as direct a look at both of them as he dared, he added in stuttered uncertainty, “and my apologies for my earlier callousness. I meant no offense.”

While Emma merely huffed a sort of noncommittal sound in her throat, bobbing her head in a bare nod of acceptance, Killian Jones, took him by complete surprise when he kindly replied, “Apology accepted, mate. I understood that your intention bore no malice.”

But if Sheriff Swan stuffed their newest family member with salmon, the priciest treats, and as much catnip as he could stand the next evening when the newly dubbed Maelstrom returned home to stay, and cuddled and spoiled him within an inch of his life every day afterwards, well, she would challenge anyone to blame her. It wasn’t long before the well-fed and cared for cat sported a sleek, silky, long-haired and dark-striped coat and looked quite the handsomest feline in the neighborhood follwing right behind Emma anywhere she went in the house and yard like a contented little shadow. His rapid, balanced hopping gait didn’t seem to trouble him or slow him down in the slightest as time went on; for all intents and purposes, their little Maelstrom was every bit as agile, curious, and playfully quick as any four-legged cat.

*****~~~******~~~*****

When trick-or-treating season came around, and Emma’s stomach had at last begun to round with a babe of their own, Killian could only smile at her indulgently, his heart too full of happiness and love to gainsay or spoil her fun when she dressed their cat in a red vest and little black leather breeches of an animal costume, sewn by none other than her royal princess mother. Emma magicked her own tiny version of a hook that could be strapped around Maelstrom’s furry chest to sit where his missing leg would have been, and it was clear their cat was a rather adorable feline version of himself. 

His wife, meanwhile, sported a red stocking cap and a red and white striped T-shirt that stretched over her growing baby bump, a much more fetching version of Mr. Smee in all his traditional Disney cartoon buffoonery if Killian had ever seen one. For a moment, he was rather uncertain how to work himself in with their theme - not about to dress as his own insulting Disney likeness, nor as Pan or the crocodile. He did eventually feel a bit smug at getting the last laugh once he settled on a Victorian formal suit complete with tails, white ascot and silver-rimmed spectacles, making himself rather the most dashing Mr. Darling one could have envisioned. Emma’s mouth hung open, in fact a little breathless, as he joined her at the door. At least, that was until the shrill ringing of the doorbell broke the moment, announcing their first visitors seeking candy.

*****~~~*****~~~***

Two weeks later, two little girls, ten and twelve years old, named Sara and Anne, whom they had noticed hanging back from the rest of the group of trick-or-treaters, not seeming to be escorted by parents as the others were, but eager to come forward and get as much candy as they could hold at he and Emma’s insistence once the rest of the group had moved on, were part of their household as well. They had cooed over Maelstrom’s Captain Hook costume, giggled as he wended his way between their skinny legs, and petted him gently and admiringly.

“I’ve never had a pet,” the brunette named Sara had explained wistfully, her big doe eyes looking up to meet theirs and capturing Killian’s heart in an instant. He knew even before an official and thorough search proved that they were alone, that these two girls needed he and Emma. It seemed they had been brought over with the other Untold Story realm’s citizens, but rather than with a whole family, as most who’d even noticed them about had assumed, each had instead been separated from her parents and all alone. They had located each other at school, and found an abandoned building at the edge of town where they had managed to squat under the radar. But Emma’s stomach panged with remembered hunger and her heart beat rapidly at the fear and loneliness that would never completely fade. The two girls couldn’t have found any two other people more likely to know what they’d been through than she and Killian.

By the time Emma delivered a healthy baby girl in the early morning of a brand new year, Hope Lianna Jones had two big sisters in her family ready to greet her excitedly.

Their house was once again full of squeals and yelps as feet pounded down the stairs and peals of laughter at all sorts of odd hours. David might tease Killian about how badly outnumbered he was by women in their own little haven, but Emma could only think her prayers had been answered by their house’s fullness. The more the merrier was by now their enthusiastic motto. It was a view not held by nearly enough of the world when she and Killian were growing up on their won. And they were doing their part to change that - one kid and one animal at a time.

**Author’s Note: Again, I apologize for the length of time between Parts One and Two of this story, but I do hope that you will find this conclusion satisfying. You might have noticed that I strove to find literary/legendary orphans to use as potential new members of Emma and Killian’s family. Oliver from Oliver Twist, Sara from A Little Princess, and Anne from Anne of Great Gables.  And thanks once again to the lovely ladies on Discord for the animal names, I couldn’t resist switching one from dog to cat here in Part Two! ;)

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @scientificapricot @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @therooksshiningknight @laschatzi @effulgentcolors @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @profdanglaisstuff @snidgetsafan @resident-of-storybrooke @winterbaby89 @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @darkcolinodonorgasm 

#csseptembersunshine #cs fic #cs two shot #cs missing moments #savior's haven #part two of two #concluding part

[umbralich]

History pt. 8 - Home (fin)

Part 7 <---

Lareine was looking at her reflection in the mirror and nodded approvingly, not giving a damn although she knew she was grinning stupidly. She was wearing a black, curvy and long-sleeved satin dress she had chosen when Arsene had finally taken her shopping. She had also bought some make-up for covering her lifeless looking skin and dark circles around her eyes. Though she wasn't quite sure did it count, since she had just drawn even darker circles on them. "When you look better you'll also feel better", the butler had said. And it was true. Her old, a bit too big nightgown combined with her partly grown crop had made her look plainly horrific. Even her crude hairstyle looked better now with her new dress and beautiful face. Lareine had spent the last half an hour in front of the luxury - also known as mirror - in her room admiring her new looks, but mostly just brushing her hair. Though she could've sworn its appearance hadn't changed at all during the time she had tried to do something to it. "I'm faabulous~", Lareine noted to herself.

Suddenly she heard approaching, heavy steps from the corridor. She sneaked towards the door and waited. "Vaarg-Vaarg~!" Lareine yelled while leaping playfully towards him while he was walking past the doorway, and embraced him. Varg twitched compulsively, dropped a bunch of parchments he had been carrying, and violently yanked himself mostly free of Lareine's grip. "What the hells do you think you are doing, girl? Hands off me!" he snarled while tugging his another, loose sleeve still held by Lareine, free. The au ra crouched to pick up his papers and kept glaring at Lareine meanwhile in case she decided to get close and personal with him again. "I just wanted to hug you, Varg-Varg", Lareine answered, trying not to sound too disappointed. "You looked like you needed one." "Do not call me that", Varg snapped and got up. The parchments had been a tidy stack before Lareine's endearment, but now they were a mess. "And I do not want any hugs. Do not touch me ever again, especially not without telling me first." "Meh...", she bleated. "That's awfully lotsa rules for a married couple, Varg-Varg." "We are not getting married!" he barked, eyes sparkling with enmity. "Not now, not ever. I am over twice your age, and even if I was not, I would not be interested." He turned to leave and continued his way striding downstairs. Lareine followed right after him like a puppy. "I'm sure you'd learn to like me in time", she insisted while trying to keep up with him. "You can't deny I'm quite adorable, can you? And I don't care about years! They're just guidelines!" "But I care. And it would be disgusting."

Arsene happened to come back in just when Varg and Lareine reached the front door. Judging from a rake and shovel the butler carried he had been doing some early gardening.

"Ah, there you are", Arsene noted cheerfully. "I was just about to take a break and have some tea. You two want to join me?"

"With pleasure, gramps!" Lareine answered even before Varg had opened his mouth. "I think Varg-Varg here needs a break as well. As far as I know, he's been working all morning although he's supposed to have a day off."

"Today it happens", Varg grunted at Arsene. "Make sure she is out of here before I return tonight. I am no longer even sure which one of them is the worse one."

He crammed the papers into his briefcase, not caring were they crumpled or not, snatched his coat from the rack, threw it on his shoulder and dashed out of the door without closing it.

Arsene and Lareine watched him go and disappear into the crowd. Then Arsene closed the door, put his tools next to it and took off his scarf, coat and boots.

"Which one of... them?" Lareine asked and glanced behind her, but there was no one, just an empty hallway. "Gramps, what was he talking about?"

"Nothing, miss Lareine", Arsene answered, nearly whispering. "Nothing at all."

Lareine decided to enjoy this day to the fullest, if it was to be her last day in here. She started by having peppermint tea with Arsene, and it was without a doubt the best cup of tea she had ever tasted. There was also three raspberry cupcakes left in the box Arsene had bought earlier that morning, and it had been the best cupcake Lareine had ever eaten. After that Arsene continued with his gardening, and Lareine demanded to help. The butler was digging holes and Lareine planted saplings and seeds. Before that she hadn't been much into plants, but she felt like she could do that forever if she was allowed to stay.

Now she also had time to admire the estate from outside. It had three floors, four if the attic on top of a small tower-like structure was included. It had a black gable roof so steep the heavy snow couldn't build up on it. Its walls were dark grey stone apart from the pillars, which were slightly paler. All windows were ornamental glass, almost like in a church, except for the couple of windows at the top right corner in the third floor - in Lareine's room. A lone, bat winged, grimacing gargoyle sat on top of the office. A spruce fence encircled the estate, giving more privacy to its inhabitants while they spent their time in the garden. The garden looked quite barren right now, but in a few weeks Lareine knew it would look amazing.

When Lareine and Arsene were finished with their chores outside, they proceeded to polish some silverware indoors in front of the estate's biggest fireplace in the living room. Lareine rubbed the pots and cutlery like her life would've depended on it while enjoying the soft, huge and beautiful carpet she sat on, colored by black, dark red and golden patterns. Although the floors were wooden - very, very pretty, polished dark wood - it still tended to become chilly at times. A common problem in Ishgard, Arsene had sometimes said. Lareine would've wanted a similar carpet into her room too. Currently there was no carpet at all.

Then came the moment Arsene notified they'd have work to do in the cellar. Lareine felt a little tug somewhere at the back of her mind, but she brushed it aside. "Shut up", she said soundlessly, before following Arsene down the steep stairs into the darkness. When they stood in the middle of an empty blackness, Arsene fumbled a torch from somewhere and ignited it, illuminating the whole small room.

It was just a storage. There were craft tools hanging on the wall opposite of the stairs: hammers, screwdrivers, scissors, a couple of saws, pickaxe, spare shovel and the like. Below them was a small, worn out desk with a single thumbscrew on it. The other walls were covered by shelves with different boxes and jars piled on them. Lareine and Arsene underwent every box, checking them for usable items and throwing away everything that had gone old or beyond repair.

When they finally ascended from the cellar, it had almost gone dark outside.

"Well, it seems we should start packing", Arsene stated after glancing towards the nearest windows. "I wouldn't try and test my master's patience in this matter if I were you, miss Lareine. He made this decision before he even brought you in."

Lareine didn't say anything. She obediently plodded upstairs after him and into her room. She didn't have much to pack. The only good looking clothes she had she was currently wearing, and her few spare lingerie didn't take much space in her bag. At the end her luggage was mostly food, a pouch of gil and toiletries. Arsene had a somber expression on his face, but not even once he complained about the situation.

The front door was opened and closed downstairs. While they walked back down, Lareine felt like she would throw up at any moment.

"She is still here?" Varg asked accusingly while hanging up his coat.

"She was just about to leave", Arsene said. "Right, miss Lareine?"

Lareine squeezed her bag and swallowed so loudly she could've sworn it echoed around the hallway. Varg was holding the door open for her, waiting and frowning. Lareine stood in front of him for a long while, just staring at his high heeled boots without saying anything. When she finally opened her mouth and was about to bargain, Varg said:

"No. Get out."

Without warning he grabbed her arm and shoved her outside. When she turned around teary-eyed, Varg thrust her coat, scarf and mittens on top of her bag, and threw her boots next to her feet on the paving. The door was slammed shut and Lareine heard a faint click from the other side.

Tears were running down her cheeks and she felt like she could as well just die. Lareine would've wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but screaming was bad. Usually screaming had lead to something else that was also bad, and that in turn had lead to straps. Stubbornly she just bit her lip until it started bleeding. Lareine didn't have the slightest clue where she should've gone, so she wrapped her coat and scarf around her, put her mittens and boots on and sat down on a small rug in front of the door, hugging her bag. Usually such rugs said "Welcome", but there wasn't any text in this one.

"You silly little shrimp", she whispered. "Just go to the stables and ride out of this shitehole. You've survived alone so far. You can still do it."

She continued chewing her lip and accidentally opened the wound she had earlier made. At least it had become silent again.

She wasn't sure for how long she sat there. When she was thrown out, the sky had been dark blue. Now it was black. One by one people disappeared from the streets, and soon Lareine felt she was the only one in Ishgard who sat outside in the cold. Her sight started to get blurry again and she sniffed, annoyed at herself.

Then the door was opened behind her. Lareine jumped on her feet and stood there perfectly straight like those silly marines she had sometimes seen marching and saluting at the port. Varg glared at her grimly. Lareine stared back, pleading with her eyes.

"No more Varg-Varg. No more touching. Especially sudden hugs. No more rambling about marriage or disturbing me or following me around. And you will work", he listed.

Lareine couldn't believe this was actually happening. She was just nodding silently.

"I'll... I'll do anything", she whispered. Then the tears came.

Varg rolled his eyes and nodded towards the hallway. "Get in then."

Epilogue

Lareine took a long look at her room's new appearance and nodded approvingly. The walls had a black wallpaper with blood red rose patterns, the roof was painted all black and the floor polished as it was elsewhere in the estate. She also had her own canopy bed, soft bedding, ornamental, mostly black counterpane and lots of black and red pillows. There was a new desk, also made of dark wood, and it had huge, oval shaped mirror attached to it.

She had a bigger and prettier wardrobe too, and during the last week she had gotten permission to buy a couple of more outfits to her liking. Is she wanted more, she should save her own money for them. All the extra space left Lareine had filled with moogle, chocobo and other plush toys, ivy vines and candles. Lareine herself was wearing a new, long and delicate nightgown made of black silk and lace.

"Are you done?" Varg asked from the corridor.

"Yes, I'm gonna go to sleep", Lareine answered. "Good night... Varg."

Varg looked at her with narrowed eyes and closed the door. Lareine jumped into her bed and while she was rustling her blanket and fluffing her pillows she didn't hear the door was locked.

Varg dropped the key into his pocket and walked back into his study. He locked his own door as well and closed the thick curtains. There was a lantern and few candles burning on his table. He stepped to the cabinet in the farthest corner of the study and took a half full bottle of whisky and one glass, and put them on the table. Then he reached into the cabinet again and took out syringe and a small flask containing pale, transparent liquid. There was a tiny "Sedative" tag on it. He put them on his table as well. He opened the bottle and poured the glass full.

Finally he took a box of cigarettes from his drawer, lit one of them and inhaled deeply. He sat down, straightened his feet, exhaled and watched the smoke rising towards the ceiling in gloomy candle light. Then he looked at the rest of the items he had collected on the table. There was the whisky on his left and the syringe and the flask on his right.

He tapped the table for a while with his claws, before choosing the whisky. He would try it at first and hope it was enough.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #stories #viera #lareine kira #elezen #arsene dreadeois

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

OT3FIC: Coton De Tulear

21 - holiday attic sky

The dust tickled at his nose as he got to the top of the manhole ladder, sticking his head into the dark, forgotten space with a cough. When Jo had quietly asked if there were any lights in the house with that tiny, uncertain crease in her brow as if unsure it was okay to ask, and Will had said he’d put them in the attic years ago when he’d first moved in but had no idea how to go about it; he knew that the moment the pair were both out of the house he’d be up the ladder, fishing out the old mouldy box, testing each and every string, and rushing about the eaves and roof all day until it looked perfect. Until he’d created the perfect, snow dusted and fairy light strung house for Jo’s car to roll up to when she got home.

Grey struggled to get the box down on his own - a precarious grip on the ladder around a collapsing box with the concerned barks and yips distracting him as he blindly put one foot down each rung as he made his way out of the dark, cramped space. It had been hard to locate this box, and even harder still not to pause and begin looking under the various sheets that covered furniture or boxes high of what was the other man’s past, pushed as it was into one of the furthest corners that there was. Next to it had been a box full of what Grey assumed would end up being various other ornaments from the word scrawled across the brown side of it and the string of tinsel that had hung out the side; and as he managed to get both feet and the box of Christmas lights itself onto the flat of the upstairs hall, he didn’t close the ladder or hatch in preparation of climbing back up for that other box if he got done with the external decoration quick enough.

The dogs were all rushing about his feet, and Zoe barked that exceptionally loud bark of hers for such a small dog a few times after the rest had quietened down, before they thundered down the stairs in a mass of furry bodies before him as he started towards it.

It had been Buster and Max that had taken to him first under the calm guidance of Jo, Will and from what he suspected was even his first gorgeous baby given how Nana would nip at the others when they growled or ran away from him before getting scolded for her own behavior - though he suspected from the way she’d never look away in guilt over that behavior itself no matter how much Jo told her off for it that the dog somehow knew exactly what she was doing and was just as stubborn as her mother over it.

From there the rest had warmed to him in a way that he’d never thought possible, though Winston still sat on the other end of the room or as close as he could to Will at all times - but Will claimed that was a weird quirk of the dog all his own. Grey had caught Jo once squatted down in front of the dog, pressing a silver spoon on his nose and muttering to herself that she “don’t know how you’re not burnin’, but I’m onto you, you cute little skinwalker” at him one time that had made him want to laugh terribly hard as she’d pressed a kiss to the confused looking dog’s head.

The rest of the morning was spent sitting in the front lounge with rolls and rolls of lights and spare globes he smoked out to grab the moment he got the box open and could see what he was working with, unrolling and entangling the balls upon balls of lights, plugging them in and replacing dead globes along each string. The soundbar played out his favorite tunes and the morning disappeared in no time between the busy work and the soft, comforting crooning from the speaker as he bobbed his head and sung along to himself.

After lunch, the shadow moved outside and fetched the rickety ladder from in the barn before he began the hard part of this job. Having to do this alone was much more frustrating than if there were another set of hands, but Will wasn’t due home for another four hours and Jo another two after that from her two-day trip up the coast to see the other crochety old hunter friend of hers in Vermont. If he was lucky, he’d be finished by the time Will got home, and if not then he’d be lucky for the other man to be home to finish with him before the last of their little family got home.

The wind was cold, and there was ice slowly melting off of the eaves as he tried to be as quick as possible with bright pink fingers from the cold to screw in new loop hooks and then hang the lights as nicely as possible. There were boughs of warm-white lights that would twinkle just right lining the front porch, and then the same were wrapped carefully around each of the porch posts before he began working on the lights for along the railing itself - the long icicle-design tendrils would peak between the white rails like a snowfall of lights. The dogs ran about the front yard, the thin layer of snow clinging to their paws and the mound of snow from his and Will’s shoveling over the weekend from the path and the drive way made drifts for the dogs to run and jump through. They would need the warm fire that night to dry off, that was for sure.

As Grey moved the ladder back out and wrapped a string of lights around his elbow and shoulder, contemplating exactly how he would hang them across the upper roof joining the two upper windows of their bedroom together, he heard the sound of happy barking turn jubilant and with surprise he looked up to see the sky had already darkened and started to turn the soft red and oranges of sunset, inky blue trailing over the back of the house. Turning to look behind him, he wasn’t surprised at all to see the grey Volvo parked and surrounded by happily barking and jumping dogs.

“What’s all this then?” Will called out as he tugged his messenger bag from the passenger seat and clicked the lock button to the car behind him as he approached. There was a pause before Grey saw his face break into a small smile. “I see someone has been busy today.”

“I thought I might surprise Jo when she gets home tonight.” “Oh you absolutely will with all this.” “Just got the top windows to do and then I think it’s quits for today.”

“Sounds good,” The other replied as he reached Grey’s side, and the shadow couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as the other lent down and pressed a kiss against his lips in greeting, fingers stroking through the hair to the side of his face for a moment. There was a moment before the taller man pulled back with a matching smile and a shrug of his shoulder. “Just got to put my bag away and then I’ll be out to help, alright?”

Grey nodded gently, that hand still gently brushing against his ear for another blissful moment so warm against the icy cold of his skin from a long day outside, before the other lent in for another quick kiss before heading inside alongside the rush of the dogs towards the warmth that was promised inside.

The shadow turned his attention back to the last string of lights, wrapping the last few feet around his arm and holding a hand up to trace in the air before himself where he thought the best positioning was as he waited for the other to head back out. There were a few quiet barks, and Grey laughed to himself realizing it was dinner time for the four legged family members before the other would be outside, and instead of waiting made his way up the ladder cautiously.

It was all going well until a gust of wind as he got to the top, the ladder slipping on the cold, wet ice that formed against the drainpipe and ladder and man alike came tumbling down onto the hard, cold ground with a clatter. Grey let out a pained groan as he lay frozen in shock and pain against the ground, breathing sharply through his nose as he let out the plume of mist with another, louder groan. He couldn’t tell what hurt or why it hurt so bad, but his back, head and side ached like nothing before.

“Fuck, what happened!” He could hear Will’s voice, and pushing the tiniest bit up to try to look at the other, Grey groaned all over again, flopping bonelessly back onto the ground with a thud. “Hey, you okay?”

“Slipped.” “More like fell.” “Ow, don’t make me laugh.” “Sorry, ma douceur, let’s get you up.”

“Please.” Grey mumbled the word out, and was not at all surprised to see the concerned but bemused look on Will’s face as he stepped into the line of sight - blocking the bleeding sunset colors behind his curls that were as complex and undefinable as the eyes that looked down towards the other - and then the world righted as the other pulled him up gently with an arm under each arm and a tight, warm hold around the waist when he was back on his feet. “Thanks-”

“Let’s get you inside-” “No, I have to do the last lights!”

“Those can wait, Grey.” Will replied with that quiet huffed laugh, rubbing against Grey’s side as he helped trying to guide the other into the house. Grey struggled to stop the slide of his feet towards the front door as the other man began walking him inside. “Or if they can’t, I’ll climb out through the windows instead.”

“I.. didn’t think of that.” Grey replied, unlocking his knees and letting out a quiet groan in response as they stumbled their way together, wrapped around one another, into the house and the taller man guided him to lie down on the couch. “I was just-”

“Rushing to finish before Jo got home, I know.” Will let out another of those little laughs of his, smiling as he fetched a few cushions and tucked them behind the shadow’s head as he sank to a knee next to the side of the couch. He tugged and retrieved the last string of lights from around Grey’s arm, and there was the soft smile that Grey knew so well across his face as he bundled them up. “Now, you’ve done a lot out the front, I’ll put these up and hopefully your back will feel fine by the time she pulls in the drive.”

Grey opened his mouth to argue, that with just a little flex of his powers he’d be right back on his feet again in seconds, before snapping it shut at the press of lips to his forehead and the way the other shuffled out of the room with the ball of lights held in his hands in a newly formed mess. Letting out a sigh at the fact that would take a good half an hour to fix, the shadow just ran a hand over his slightly damp hair where the soft snow dander that had caught in it was melting from the warmth of the fire, he focused instead on slowly healing the ache that was throbbing from the middle of his back as he heard the other thumping about in the bedroom and then on the overhang outside.

Whatever he did would need to be good enough, but Grey trusted his judgement and that no matter what - the image of the house decked in lights and snow would likely be enough to make Jo’s dreams come true, even if they were a little lopsided or imperfect. She did always say the imperfections were what made things beautiful, though that was when tracing the scars of his neck and chest and the bullet wounds and other marks that covered the other man with her lips more often than not. If nothing else, it would be even a fraction of whatever vision had made that tiny frown begin and set a start to their first Christmas together.

It wasn’t until the sound of tires on gravel out the front, earlier than expected, that Grey rushed to finish healing the pain and leaped to his feet and out the front door to hopefully catch her expression in full glory. Standing on the porch as Jo climbed out of the car, he called up quietly hearing Will’s curse from above, “Ready?”

“Aaaand I’m done. Good to go.” The other called down, and as Grey lent out the side railing to look up, he saw the wide grin on the other man’s face as they stood on each level beside and surrounded by their handiwork to watch the reaction as Grey flipped the power point on and the house was illuminated in the gentle lights all around.

Moving out along the foot path as he heard the other call out a greeting from the upstairs, he made his way over towards the car. And as Jo turned from the car, Grey’s heart felt like it was going to burst hearing the high pitched noise she made - with eyes wide and stunned, glittering back the same sparkle that surrounded their house for the first time.

#ot3 grey/jo/will fic #greypov

[saltylikecrait]

White - Finn/Rey Modern AU

A continuation of my color prompt fics for this week’s @finnreyfridays. This one is based around a personal experience with snow I had earlier this year.

“This snowstorm doesn’t look like it’s going to let up anytime soon,” sighed Finn as he scrolled down the 10-day forecast on his weather app.

Rey peered behind the blinds of her apartment’s front window and heaved a heavy sigh. “Great. Just great.” She ground her lower jaw. “Not a store for miles and we get a freak snowstorm at the very end of winter.”

“Is this common around here?” Finn asked. He was new to the area but didn’t expect to see this much snow in the middle of a high desert. The earlier months of winter had been relatively nice and his neighbors told him that they get snow on occasion but not every year. With how warm it had been, most of the locals had been in agreement that it was unlikely to see more than a brushing of frost this year.

Then, in the first weekend of February, a winter weather warning had been posted for the entire region. Finn hitched a ride with Rey when she got off work to stock up on groceries and a promise that the highway was usually well-traveled and clear even in snow so that he wouldn’t have to worry too much over running out of food. The next day, as predicted, the small town of Jakku saw the first flakes dance through the air.

High winds came Saturday, knocking snow off roofs and blowing piles against houses. At least the power hadn’t gone out yet. Knock on wood.

Finn had tried to make the short walk home from Rey’s apartment after watching the latest Oceans movie with her, but he almost slid down her staircase and the winds were so strong that he was struggling just to make a step forward. Seeing this, Rey had run back outside to tell him to stay the night with her.

But the next morning they woke up to find that they were snowed in. The snow went above Finn’s ankles and he sunk in when he tried to step down in it. They shoveled the driveway for two hours and barely scraped enough snow away from the front of the garage to open it.

So Finn stayed Saturday, and the next day…

0---0---0---0---0

It wasn’t that he would call Rey a hoarder, but she always seemed to have more than enough of whatever was needed. When he stayed the night that Saturday, she took him into her garage and found a bin with extra toothbrushes that she had accumulated over time and anything else that he might need. There was another bin full of packaged rations that he used to eat when he was in the army, the kind that were more like energy bars and packed a ton of calories in them. When he brought them up, Rey just shrugged and said, “Just in case.”

Well, if this kept up, it might be one of those times.

The next morning he woke up, brushed his teeth, and moved the blinds to see if there were any improvements to the weather.

“Ahhh!” he cried out, toothbrush still in his mouth, and backed away from the window, wide-eyed with terror.

Rey peeked her head out her bedroom door frame, just pulling on a warmer sweater to wear over her t-shirt. “What’s wrong?”

Finn ran to the bathroom to spit out his toothpaste before returning.

“There are spiders huddling on the window, Rey. Huddling.”

She walked over to the window to investigate, frowning at the three large brown spiders. “There are ants too,” she observed as she looked down at the overhang of the frame.

“But it’s winter!” exclaimed Finn. “Shouldn’t they all be… hibernating or dead or something?”

“They’re trying to stay warm,” said Rey. “Growing up, I never used to see ants in the winter. Now I see them year-round.” She pressed her hand up against her forehead and massaged it like she had a headache at the thought. “I hope this doesn’t mean that they’ve laid eggs in the walls. I’m going to have to call an exterminator when the weather gets better…”

Then, she went to the kitchen to brew them coffee. Handing Finn a mug from her collection of drinkware with characters from their favorite sci-fi series, she poured the warm liquid in. He noted the blue and white domed robot on his mug before taking a drink.

“At least they aren’t black widows,” she mused after taking a sip.

Finn’s eyes widened again. “There are black widows here? No one told me that!”

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Rey soothed. “You mainly find them out in barns and old sheds. People rarely get bitten.”

Even with those facts, Finn spent the rest of the day glancing at every crack and crevasse in quiet horror, looking for creatures that never used to strike his daily thoughts and sleeping with Rey’s spare comforter over his head. Just in case.

0---0---0---0---0

“Goddammit!”

Finn leaned out the doorway with Rey to see that more snow had piled overnight. All their work from the last couple of days to clear out the driveway had been for nothing.

He glanced at a text message that had just popped up on his phone. “Well, we don’t have to go into work,” he announced. “Site’s closed.”

"I figured,” said Rey. “It’ll be below freezing inside the red zone.”

But Finn still had to work. With his job, he did the administration duties for the company that he and Rey worked at and often got to work from home with his laptop if he needed to. It was a nice perk that came with living in the middle of nowhere and the pay was far better than what he could find back in the city. The job had stayed open for months because it couldn’t be filled until Finn came along.

“I’m going to shovel some more,” Rey announced.

For two hours, Finn called around to reschedule any material deliveries that were planned for the next two days. Most of the shipping companies were also postponing deliveries, but there were a few odd ones that insisted they kept on schedule.

“If we can get to your job site,” one scheduler complained, “why can’t you?”

“The entire site is closed, ma’am,” he said, trying to keep his frustration in check. “You won’t be able to get through the gates.”

It took ten minutes to convince the company to reschedule for the next day… assuming that Tuesday the site would be open. He could always call back in the morning to cancel if he had to.

“Rey,” he called out, “you’ve been out here for hours. Come in and get warm.”

Huffing, she walked back up the stairs. “I made some progress,” she told him.

He smiled. “Good. Not sure when you’ll have to be on site next, but it would be nice to get to the store if we need to.” Glancing at the driveway, he saw that Rey had pushed over walls of snow to the sides, getting about halfway down the concrete path. Maybe when she went out again, he could help her and they could get the rest away. The forecast for tomorrow was predicting rain, which might make the roads too dangerous to drive but also might help wash away the snow.

Her ears were red and he noticed her rubbing them to warm them. “We need to get you a hat,” he observed.

“I hate hats.”

“Just for when it’s cold, Rey.”

“It’s never this cold!”

This time, Finn was the one to make them warm drinks. They sat quietly, lost in thought.

“You know,” he began with a laugh, “my mom once told me that there was a reason so many babies were born in the fall. I think I get it now.”

Rey scrunched her nose. “Oh, gross,” she said. “I’m a fall baby. Do not need that mental image.”

Their laughter echoed through Rey’s kitchen.

0---0---0---0---0

“Oh, thank god!” Rey cheered when she got back home the next day. “This is finally over!”

The roads were slushy, but by late Tuesday morning, Rey had been able to get on the roads to do a half-day of work. It sounded like a lot had gotten done, though Finn had stayed at her house to work that day. He had ventured to check on his home to find that the driveway and porch were covered with snow and vowed with Rey to return later to try to shovel it.

There was a more pressing issue at hand, though.

“I need to go to the store,” Rey explained. “Get some food and…” she looked at Finn pointedly, “get some things to prevent any fall babies.”

Finn might have snorted if it weren’t for the fact that his brain had suddenly short-circuited.

0---0---0---0---0

“Oh, are you kidding me?”

By Wednesday morning, the snow had started again, covering the ground again with very large flakes.

The driveway needed to be shoveled again…

Finn sipped his coffee as he stared at the scene. Rey was tugging on her hair with frustration.

“Well, at least we got to store when we could.”

#finnrey #my stuff #finnreyfridays

[benjamingarden]

This Month On The Farm: December 2020

  And just like that December is over.  Happy new year to all of you!  2020 was a bit of a crazy ride but all-in-all, for us, it was quite alright.  While we didn't have a great year financially, we really can't complain.  We learned that we could tighten our already tight financial belt even more.  With that it ensured our bills are paid, we have food in our pantry and freezers, the animals are very well taken care of, our business survived, and we had more time to spend on things we weren't finding time to get done in previous years.  

Please know that I am not trying to be insensitive to those who had tragic outcomes in 2020, rather, we are trying to focus on what went well for us.  On that same note I am super grateful we had made the decision not to move our business off of our farm so our overhead was limited.  We had struggled with that decision since we started the business and just about a year and a half ago made a final decision that we would not grow the business any larger than what we could handle ourselves in the space we've got.  

the mound on the left of this photo is my Jeep Grand Cherokee....

Well, Jay had been complaining that it didn't feel like Christmas a couple of weeks prior.  He said that because we didn't have snow he just wasn't feeling it.  Sooooo....I blame him completely for the 3 feet that were dumped on us shortly before the big day.  Yup - he is the one you can blame as well if you'd like.  It took a full 2 days to complete our snow removal - paths, deck, porches, and roofs and, since he does most of it, he was exhausted by the time it was done.  Of course he didn't much appreciate my singing of Christmas songs as we suited up to head outside for each round of shoveling or snow blowing.  Clearly he doesn't always appreciate my enthusiasm or talents.

Christmas was quiet, as it was just the two of us and the critters, so I made some special meals and treats to celebrate the day.  We basked in the hum and warmth of the pellet stove, binge watched the new season of Virgin River on Netflix, drank mugs of hot cocoa with extra marshmallows, and enjoyed a peaceful and relaxing day together.

And then Saturday I deemed a "no cook" day.  We had simple breakfasts, leftovers for lunch, and frozen pizza for dinner.  I did throw chicken wings in the air fryer for Jay's dinner as well, but it's no more difficult then throwing frozen pizza in the oven.  It was perfect.

Oliver & Jackson -  Let's start with updates on Mr. Oliver.  We took him to his consultation for alternative treatments to help keep him comfortable with his multiple herniated discs.  First, let me tell you that he had to finish up a round of a steroids in December and I am SO HAPPY it's over.  My goodness that boy was constantly starving!!  Steroids increase hunger and thirst and if he wasn't ravishingly hungry he was drinking a ton.  My day was spent feeding him, filling up his water bowl, and taking him out to go to the bathroom.  Repeat.  I also decided after the first morning of his poor bladder being so incredibly full he was clearly uncomfortable, that I would get up at 2a.m. every night to take him out to pee.  I did this until that darned steroid was out of his system.  I felt so bad for him.  He absolutely will not go potty in the house so he holds it despite the discomfort it causes.

His doctor decided that acupuncture and laser therapy were not necessary as of yet, so we purchased a therapy loop that she recommended to give him electromagnetic therapy at home.  She's hoping this will help keep the inflammation down for a while.  Eventually we will add in the other 2 therapies when needed.  He also has some stretches we do daily to keep his little body limber. 

He is not allowed to run, jump, etc. and we are keeping his walking to a minimum which is what the remainder of his life will be.  He is happy, seems to feel pretty good (we have to hold him back from trying to run, jump, etc.), and takes nice long naps so all seems to be well at the moment.  He will turn 11 in January and I think he's definitely feeling his age.

And then there's Jackson.  Actually, he's doing well.  He's the same - bratty but handsome, and is still loving his new routine of going to bed in his very own bedroom.  He LOVES taking his Rescue Remedy every night.  I have no idea why.  I do have to make sure the room is always "Jack-proofed" because he gets into anything and everything during his 7-8 hours of alone time.

In The Coop - We have EGGS!!!!  Jay is so happy.  Although we aren't getting many, at least we are getting an egg or two each day as of a week ago.  He's still rationing his use since he's not fully confident we will get them daily, but that will change soon I'm sure.

The Coop Girls are doing well.  They dislike the colder temps and absolutely detest that beautiful white snow.  When we leave their coop open they get so excited to run out and that lasts all of about 3 minutes.  Once they realize that there is snow everywhere except for their coop they return to their outdoor coop.  There's usually a lot of chatter after this is attempted each morning.  I suspect it's a bit of disappointment being shared amongst the flock.

Whole Wheat Honey Oat Bread

In The Kitchen - I've been making this recipe for Whole Wheat Honey Oat Bread (by King Arthur Flour) and we've been enjoying it.  If you happen to have any maple sugar lying around it is perfect in this bread.  I substitute out most of the white a/p flour with white whole wheat flour but other then that I follow the recipe exactly.  It's a fairly dense, sweet, and moist loaf that is perfect for morning toast or a sandwich where a slightly sweet bread would work.

I also made up a few batches of bean burgers (using 3 different recipes as guides) to store in the freezer for quick meals.  And as a surprise snack one day I made a batch of DELICIOUS Honey Butter Popcorn (it's good with or without the nuts).  If you add a touch of salt it's almost like a kettle corn (without the nuts) or cracker jacks (with the nuts) but not cloyingly sweet.  I altered it slightly by using a non-dairy butter and about 10-12 cups of popped popcorn (it calls for 6 cups) so it wasn't too sweet.  It was good even days later.

I also discovered a recipe for vegan Amaretti Cookies.  They are gluten free as well but the recipe does use refined sugar.  They are really good.  My husband (the anti-vegan) loves them.  After he ate 2 I told him they are almond flour and aquafaba.  After explaining what aquafaba was he said "why did you have to go and tell me there's chickpeas in my cookies???"  (Of course aquafaba is the chickpea cooking liquid not the beans, he was being dramatic)  I told him because I'd promised that I will always tell him what's in food he tries and never hide ingredients.  But I tell him AFTER he's tried the recipe of course!  😁  (p.s. mine look more like snowball cookies because they didn't crack but they were still delicious!)  He ate quite a few more over the course of a couple days and has requested them for this week's dessert.  So I guess he likes them!

What I've Been Reading - I haven't read as many books over the past month but I did read a few good ones. (affiliate links)

Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine: A Novel by Gail Honeyman - this was a very different book for me to read but it was written so incredibly well.  A word of caution that it does deal with child abuse but it really is brilliant.  It's tragic, sad, funny, and enlightening.

The Twelve Dates Of Christmas: A Novel by Jenny Bayliss - apparent from the title it's a rom-com and a very well written debut novel.  I really liked the main characters and the little twists and turns of the story which is set in England.

The Clause In Christmas: A Poppy Creek Novel by Rachael Bloome - honestly, I really didn't think I would like this book.  I guess I thought it would be a bit too cheesy.  Quite surprisingly I enjoyed it (not cheesy at all).  It was light, the events were predictable, but I liked the characters and the storyline and it was a fun read.  It's the first of a series of five.

That's what happened around here in December!

This Month On The Farm: December 2020 was originally posted by My Favorite Chicken Blogs(benjamingardening)