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foxghost · 3 years

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Joyful Reunion, Chapter 96

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 3, Chapter 21 (Part 6)

There’s a burly man standing to the side of the wrestler, and in the middle of the winter, and it’s the Twelfth month no less, he’s stripped to the waist. With a figure that dwarfs even Chang Liujun’s, and a hefty, muscular face, he’s looking the assassins standing across from him up and down with disdain.

“Wonderful!”

As someone gets thrown onto the ground, Cai Yan laughs, leading the crowd in a round of applause. The rest of the functionaries nod along with Mu Kuangda in approval.

The Mongolian Envoy gives Cai Yan a nod, and Cai Yan bestows the winning warrior a cup of wine. The warrior comes up and thanks Cai Yan.

“After waiting for so long,” the envoy says, “we’ve finally managed to meet Your Majesty and Your Highness. It’ll be quite the thing to boast about in front of our people when we get back.”

“Of course I’m very glad that you’ve come such a long way to celebrate my son’s birthday,” Li Yanqiu replies. "As the capital’s relocation was not settled ere now, we did not have time to receive your delegation.”

Duan Ling and Mu Qing step down from the winding gallery into the garden. There are many flowering trees planted in the garden, and Mu Qing is about to walk farther in when Duan Ling tugs at his sleeve to let him know this is far enough. The Black Armours standing on guard outside are about to drive them off as they approach, but Xie You is walking towards them from the other end of the gallery, and he gestures at the guards.

That’s why they get to stand behind the flowering bushes to listen to the goings on inside. Through the bushes, he can even see Wu Du spacing out ten steps away.

Cai Yan says, “I did read the last letter he sent, but as governmental affairs have been taking up all of my time, I haven’t had a chance to write a reply. Now that there’s an imperial order as well, I’ll trouble you to bring it back along with the letter.”

The envoy immediately replies, “That’s wonderful. Our crown prince has told us that we must bring his blessings to Your Highness by your birthday and to ask for a letter in reply.”

“What blessing?” Cai Yan smiles. “I’m surprised that Batu still thinks of me.”

“His Highness said that though you’re ten thousand miles apart,” the envoy says solemnly, “he’s gazing at the southern region from afar and celebrating Your Highness’s birthday today in order to commemorate the bond that was formed between you at the Illustrious Hall.”

Cai Yan gently smiles, heaves a sigh, and shakes his head.

“His Highness had a dish specifically prepared. It’s called the ‘Cai Dog’, and he told us that we must make sure to present it to Your Highness today.”2

Cai Yan’s smile freezes in an instant.

“I had been told that your people don’t eat dog meat, or is that untrue?” An official asks.

Those words have been rather baffling, and most of those present can’t quite comprehend what the envoy is saying, but upon observing the expression on Cai Yan’s face, the envoy begins to smile. “It’s true, we don’t eat dog meat. Dogs are our faithful friends, and in order to commemorate the work dogs do for us, we have kneaded leafy vegetable juice into dough, moulded them into dog-shaped buns that are then steamed. They are thereupon distributed to the commoners as a sign of good luck.”

Duan Ling digests these words in silence.

Batu has definitely taught his envoy to say these words; he wonders what the look on Cai Yan’s face is right now. The truth will out as they say, and no matter how much Cai Yan tries to hide things, some people are bound to find out eventually. Duan Ling finds this funny, but he can also feel that Batu’s wrath is just about to throw itself in Cai Yan’s face from ten thousand miles away — that’s the only reason he’s taught the envoy to say these series of malicious words in order to provoke Cai Yan. As for whether it’s a threat or simply a taunt, he has no idea.

“Please, bring it forward.” The envoy raises his hand.

And so the servants bring forward two platters filled with dog-shaped steamed bread, mottled-green in colour, setting them down in front of Cai Yan.

Cai Yan’s expression is seriously turning green one moment and white the next. He forces a smile, “How thoughtful of him.”

Everyone is finding this quite funny, but among those present who are in the know, only Lang Junxia is aware of Can Yan’s nickname, while Wu Du could make several guesses. Lang Junxia turns his head to give Wu Du a look that speaks volumes, but Wu Du ignores him, and instead he glances over at the flowering bushes across from him and suddenly spies Duan Ling peering from behind the bushes, trying to get a better view.

“Mongolian customs are certainly interesting,” Cai Yan says to Li Yanqiu. “Borjigin has always been very cordial when we were in Shangjing.”

Li Yanqiu nods; the envoy adds, “His Highness sincerely wishes to ask Your Highness for a handwritten letter in order to soothe his yearning for you.”

As soon as he says this, everyone starts to laugh, thinking to themselves that this barbarian’s trying to speak Han, but even his vocabulary is wrong.

Cai Yan lets out a breath. “Since that’s the case, let’s get some ink and paper out here.”

Lang Junxia steps forward, “It’s freezing and Your Highness’s hands are going to get cold. There’s no need to do this yourself. I can write on your behalf.”

The envoy seems to be thinking about this, and as he’s about to speak, Lang Junxia cuts in, “It’s been many years and I rather miss His Highness as well. He should be eighteen by now — is he married yet?”

“His Highness is out on the battlefield fighting for the Khan. As a highly valued grandson of the Khan, he is not yet engaged.”

Lang Junxia gives Li Yanqiu and Cai Yan a bow before he takes a seat set at the side of the pavilion, and taking the brush and ink, he begins to write. Cai Yan easily comes up with a few conventional greetings, and Lang Junxia writes them down; it’s no more than things that happened during their years at the Illustrious Hall, and the letter begins with reminiscing before the subject turns to the relations between their empires.

From behind the bushes, Duan Ling’s mouth quirks in a slight smile as he listens. He can’t see the look on the envoy’s face but he already knows that Batu has become aware that Cai Yan is impersonating him. He has no idea how Batu has managed to guess though.

Soon, the envoy is bringing up certain topics regarding their time at the Illustrious Hall, passing on Batu’s words. He speaks of the Illustrious Hall’s headmaster, as well as Helian Bo, testing him between the lines. To his surprise, Cai Yan manages to respond to all these inquiries flawlessly.

“Our crown prince also wanted to know if Your Highness has met with Zongzhen.”

“I nearly got dragged to Shangjing and became a study partner for him.” Cai Yan smiles as he answers, then he heaves a sigh. “Destiny does make such fools of us. If I really did end up going, maybe dad would still be here, and we’ll all be alive.”

As soon as those words leave his mouth, silence falls over the garden.

“Your Majesty?” Mu Jinzhi says very quietly.

“Rong’er,” Li Yanqiu says, “don’t think about that all the time anymore. How many times have I told you that already?”

“Yes,” that’s all Cai Yan can say.

Listening to all this quietly from behind the bushes, Duan Ling feels rather complicated all of a sudden. As he looks up, his eyes meet Wu Du’s through the leaves to find Wu Du watching him, his gaze full of tenderness.

“His Highness would also like to ask if Your Highness finds him more to your liking, or finds Yelü Zongzhen more to your liking.”

And now everyone is feeling even more awkward, all of them are finding that it’s such a humorous way to ask this question. And so Cai Yan says to Li Yanqiu, “Mongolians are all like this, straight arrows.”

“Seems like Yelü Zongzhen and Borjigin often vied for your affections,” Li Yanqiu jests, “it seems you get along with others well.”

Cai Yan immediately denies this humbly, and says to the envoy, “Naturally, I’m closer to your crown prince.”

Mu Kuangda’s expression darkens and he coughs, but Cai Yan is pretending he hasn’t heard, and continue to say to the envoy, “We really have no idea where the sword of your realm is, but if we do manage to find it, it’ll surely be an honour for us to return it. Wuluohou Mu, do put that in the letter as well.”

Lang Junxia finishes writing the letter and gives it to Cai Yan. Cai Yan takes the seal from his attendant, and puts his stamp in the bottom left corner.

The envoy says cheerfully, “Though it’s not in Your Highness’s handwriting, upon my return, I can at least say my mission is complete.”

“Is there anything else that Borjigin would like to say to me?”

The envoy falls quiet for a moment, and he looks this way and that as though he would like to say something. At that moment, Duan Ling keeps getting this feeling that the envoy still has other plans.

But to their surprise, Li Yanqiu says, “It is cold and the days are short. You should return to the palace while it’s still early. Come over in the evening, and let’s talk.”

Cai Yan hurriedly acquiesces, and Li Yanqiu gets up without saying anything more; everyone bows to see him out. After Cai Yan sees Li Yanqiu and Mu Jinzhi off, he doesn’t take his seat again, but remains standing, glancing over at the envoy. An attendant steps up to him; it is the new arrival Feng, who says to the envoy, “Do you have anything else to say? If you do not, His Highness will be leaving as well.”

Li Yanqiu’s departure seems to have left the envoy’s plans in disarray. Cai Yan says, “If there’s anything else, please speak with Chancellor Mu. Passing your message onto these officials here is tantamount to passing it to me.”

The envoy looks over at the assassins standing farther down. “Our crown prince would like to have a wrestling match with Your Highness once more.”

“What?” Cai Yan’s face clearly shows how impatient he feels, and suddenly he gets suspicious that he may be falling for some trick. His gaze sweeps over the envoy’s Mongolian attendants, questioning whether Batu has come along with the group in disguise — it’s not an impossibility.

Paranoid, Cai Yan is still looking the Mongolian envoy’s attendants up and down. “It’s not like he’s come, so how are we supposed to wrestle?” He says, while at the same time he’s fully preparing for Batu to show himself.

Fortunately the envoy is replying with a smile, “Oh? Does that mean Your Highness is agreeing to a match?”

Oh, Cai Yan, you idiot, Duan Ling thinks. Even when Borjigin doesn’t show up he can still prank you like this, which makes me wonder whether it’s fortunate or unfortunate that you ended up sitting in that position.

Cai Yan’s mind is in utter chaos, feeling that anything he may say could be used against him. Luckily, Mu Kuangda cuts in now with a smile, “If so, then why not let us each choose one of our own to represent His Highness and your crown prince, and get a good match in? Once we’ve fully enjoyed ourselves we can all go home, and not have to stand here in the cold all day. I’m an old man, not like you young folks who grew up in the north.”

The envoy says, “That’s exactly what we were meaning to do. Our best warrior Amga will represent our crown prince. But I wonder which warrior will fight for the Empire of Chen?”

Nobody says anything. You’ve got to be kidding — act like clowns and wrestle with a boorish fool? That’s just downright humiliation.

Duan Ling knows the envoy will definitely say something like “in all the vast territories of Chen, is there no one who’d dare wrestle with one of our warriors” or some such. The kind of stuff that comes out of Batu’s head, well, Duan Ling knows that like the back of his own hand.

“Which warrior?” Being here at all makes Cai Yan flustered and irritable; he wishes the fight would be over already so he can leave. The longer this goes on, the more likely they’ll see flaws in his act.

“Chang Liujun,” Mu Kuangda says.

Chang Liujun is about to answer, but then Wu Du has taken a step forward. “Then do allow me to spar with your warrior on His Highness’s behalf.”

Duan Ling’s heart sharply rises up to this throat. Mu Qing doesn’t even know what to say, his expression clearly expressing “why is he so keen on showing off” as he looks at Duan Ling. But Duan Ling knows that the “His Highness” in Wu Du’s mouth refers to him, and not Cai Yan. In Wu Du’s eyes, the real main character of this formal birthday celebration visit has been standing behind the bushes — the Duan Ling who hasn’t shown himself.

“Wu Du has not fully recovered from his injuries.” Zheng Yan says languidly, “I better take his place.”

“There’s no need to trouble the two of you.” Lang Junxia gives Cai Yan a nod.

“How about this …” Cai Yan’s head spins through a series of possibilities and says, “Wu Du’s injuries haven’t fully healed, so why not …”

But Wu Du disregards everyone else in the garden, and draws the Lieguangjian from its sheath by his waist. A bright metallic whistling rings through the area. Suddenly, all goes quiet.

Mu Kuangda says with alarm, “Wu Du!”

At Wu Du’s provocation, the expression of the warrior from the other side immediately darkens.

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

Cai (Cai Yan’s last name) and Cai (vegetable) are homonyms; “Cai Dog” was also what Batu used to call Cai Yan when they were kids. ↩︎

#相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things

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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

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By Your Side

MASTERLST

This was requested by and is dedicated to @be-the-bravest, my name AND birthday twin. The poor thing dealt with appendicitis and an appendectomy on her birthday and a few following days. I’m so incredibly sorry that you had to go through that on your birthday of all days, Erin, but I hope this makes your recovery a little better. This is some incredibly fluffy, sweet goodness and you can’t convince me that Spencer wouldn’t do this for someone he loves. Hope you all enjoy some fluff to start your week and happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 1,796

This wasn’t exactly how you’d planned your birthday.

You’d been excited about your birthday for months. You’d been dreaming about a day filled with spending time with friends, family and your boyfriend, Spencer.

You were too old for parties—not that parties were necessarily a bad thing—but you were one who much preferred eating out and going on adventures.

You’d planned an entire day; brunch with your family and Spencer at your parents house, browsing yours and Spencer’s favorite book stores, dinner with Spencer’s work family and then a movie marathon with him that night.

Spencer had even taken a day off of work, something he rarely did. Having a job in the FBI meant demanding work and you admired how passionate he was about his job. According to him, this was the first time he’d taken time off in well over five years. It was touching that he did it just for you.

When you were younger, the thought of getting older scared you. You’d realized with each year you turned a new age, you’d never get back any of those previous years. Now though, you viewed it as a celebration of another year filled with ups and downs—and making it through the year, especially when you got to celebrate it with the people closest to you. Besides, the older you got the less you worried about aging; you were only as old as you felt after all.

All of your anticipated plans evaporated as quickly as a snap of fingers.

The pain had begun the previous night, a dull pain in your stomach. You were expecting your period at any time, so you chalked it up to that. You went to bed early with a heating pad and no second thoughts. By the time Spencer had come to bed, the pain had eased a bit to the point of uncomfortable, but bearable pain and you didn’t consider anything else.

The bright, early hours of your birthday changed your opinion though.

You and Spencer didn’t have to be at your parent’s house for brunch until 11 am, but you woke just before 7, the pain in your abdomen more than you could bear.

You cried out as you tried to sit up in bed.

Either Spencer was just finely tuned to know when something was wrong with you or he’d slept incredibly light last night—something pretty unusual for him.

He was up in an instant, concern written all over his face as he checked on you.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

Definitely in tune with you.

“My stomach is killing me,” you groaned, “What time is it?”

He peered at the alarm clock on his side of the bed.

“6:49. Why don’t you lay back down? We still have a few hours before we have to be at your parents’.”

Spencer helped you lay back down and took your heating pad.

“Do you need me to reheat it for you?”

You nodded, in too much discomfort to talk.

“Get some rest,” he said, kissing your head before heading downstairs.

A few minutes later, he returned with the newly warmed heating pad, wrapped in a hand towel and placed it on your lower stomach.

“Has the heating pad helped any?” he asked, recalling that you’d slept with it last night as well.

“It was last night. But now it doesn't even touch it,” you whimpered.

You’d never given birth, but you were certain this is what labor felt like.

The pain was like internal sharp pin pricks, but then it’d ease off into a more mild and dull sensation. No matter what you did though, the pain was still persisting.

“You look flushed,” he commented, worried.

“I’m about to burn up,” you said, tossing the heating pad aside.

He felt your forehead and looked even more concerned.

“Where exactly does it hurt, Y/N?”

You motioned to your lower abdomen and then to an area slightly to the right.

“We need to get you to the emergency room now,” he said, his mind made up.

“What? No! I’m fine!”

You tried to sit up and cried out at the sharp pain, tears forming in your eyes.

“Babe, it could be anything from an ovary issue to gallbladder issues. It might even be appendicitis, you need to get it checked out now.”

You knew better than to argue with him. Whatever plans you’d had for your birthday had just gone out the window.

•

You sat hunched in the emergency room as Spencer checked you in. You were in so much pain now, you couldn’t talk.

Unfortunately, it was a wait, but at least you were on the high priority list.

You sat, half hunched, half curled into Spencer, whimpering and clutching his hand the entire time you waited.

“I know honey, I know,” he whispered.

He alternated between rubbing your back, kissing your head and murmuring softly to you.

It took over two hours, but considering the normal wait time, you were pretty fortunate.

Things moved pretty quickly after that.

You were taken back, a full exam and blood work being done. Next, came an ultrasound.

An agonizing amount of time passed as you waited for the results of the ultrasound while still in a good amount of pain.

Spencer didn’t leave your side though. He tried his best to distract you and take your mind off of your pain.

He also was kept busy by keeping everyone updated. Between your parents and the team from the Behavioral Analysis Unit, his phone had hardly left his hands.

Your friends and family were amazing, sending you birthday wishes, videos to lift your spirits, even some of their kids had made drawings for you. It helped some and you were eternally grateful for Spencer as he kept showing you new well wishes with a smile on his face.

The diagnosis came back quickly, when they saw the ultrasound. Just as Spencer had suspected, it was appendicitis.

“You’re in luck, our surgeon is going to be able to fit you in for this evening. We need to remove the appendix as soon as possible to avoid any further complications,” the doctor on call—Dr. Martin—told you.

“Happy birthday to me,” you mumbled.

After Dr. Martin left, a nurse was the next to come in. She administered antibiotics to help fight any infection and told you the anesthesiologist would be there soon to prep you for surgery.

The day had simultaneously passed in a flash yet crawled at a snail’s pace. You no longer cared that it was your birthday, you just wanted to feel better. You were exhausted, in severe pain and wanted to cry, as if that would make you feel any better.

“I’m sorry you feel so awful, baby,” Spencer frowned, stroking your hair from where he sat next to the hospital bed.

You mumbled your thanks sleepily and yawned.

“You should try to sleep,” he frowned.

“I would if it didn’t feel like there was a knife lodged into my abdomen,” you groaned.

After the anesthesiologist arrived and administered your medicine, you didn’t remember much. With your exhaustion and the drugs both combined, the world blurred increasingly around the edges. Just as you were about to give into the seduction of sleep, you heard Spencer say something to you.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll be right here by your side the moment you’re out of surgery.”

•

The next thing you remembered was waking up in recovery.

“Surgery went well, Y/N,” Dr. Martin said, “You should be good as new in two weeks.”

You gave a groggy groan and fell asleep again. It dawned on you that you hadn’t even checked to see where Spencer was, but before you could open your eyes to look, sleep took hold.

Your eyes opened again and it was dark outside. Only one light above the bed illuminated the room besides the moonlight that shone through the window.

“Nice to see you awake again,” you heard the familiar voice of your boyfriend.

You looked over and saw Spencer refilling your water cup for you.

“I got you some jello,” he grinned.

“Ugh, ew,” you groaned, turning up your nose.

You were definitely not a fan of jello—much to Spencer’s dismay.

“Hey, I resent that,” Spencer chuckled, “Technically I asked the nurse for some for you, but in reality I’m gonna eat it.”

He walked over to your bedside, leaning over and kissing you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired and sore. Hopefully I get some good pain medicine,” you smiled weakly.

“Oh you will. Your nurse was just in here ten minutes ago and administered your first dose. She said it should be kicking in within a half hour.”

“Thank God,” you mumbled.

Your eyes raked over your boyfriend who—like he’d promised—was still at your side. He looked tired and rattled but relieved to know you would be okay.

“How are you, Spence? You’ve been up since 7 this morning,” you commented, worried about him.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he frowned, putting a hand to your cheek, stroking it gently, “I’m just glad you’re okay. I hated seeing you in so much pain.”

“Guess we won’t be having kids then,” you joked.

“Y/N,” he gave you a look, but he was smiling.

“Pretty sure I can survive labor if I survived that pain,” you said, “At least with labor you get an epidural. Spencer, invent an epidural for appendicitis, stat.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling, a trait you loved about him.

“I think you need to rest, honey, you’re clearly sleep deprived.”

“I don’t want to,” you pouted, “Can you cuddle me?”

“I’m not gonna risk hurting you,” he said adamantly.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s my birthday still, right? I want cuddles.”

His face softened, any trace of his earlier humor gone.

“I’m so sorry you had to spend your birthday like this, Y/N,” he said, frowning.

He pushed a piece of your hair off your face and sighed, seemingly resigned to something.

“Alright, you win. Scoot over.”

You smiled, moving slowly and carefully over in the bed in an attempt to make enough room from him.

He spread out next to you, positioning himself to face you.

“Better,” you said.

You smiled your first real smile of the day then.

“You know, I may have had a shitty birthday, but I’m glad it was another birthday spent with you. You hardly didn’t leave my side.”

“I’ll always be by your side, no matter what you face.”

He took your hand, bringing it towards his lips and kissed it gently.

“I love you,” you smiled up at him.

“I love you too.”

He returned your smile, placing an arm very gently over your waist.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

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forkanna · 4 years

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WARNING: Very N S F W. Includes sisterly incest, cunnilingus, anal play, tickling, foot worship, and as you probably expected... food kink.

Notes: HAPPY CORONATION DAY! I've been hanging onto this since I posted chapter 5 both because I wanted to make sure it was just right, and I thought it deserved to be released on an important day in the fandom's history: the date Elsa was crowned Queen of Arendelle in 1844. (We know this thanks to some smart cookies on Reddit haha)

So I know this should technically be from Elsa's POV if I continued to follow the convention I set up for myself, but I decided to keep writing it as Anna. It's been her story from the beginning and it should end as her story. Plus it's an epilogue, so it doesn't have to follow the rest of the fic's format! So there! AHAHAHAHA… I don't know, I'm tired.

And YES, this is the end. No sequels, no Epilogues-To-Epilogues; the MSB grand finale. I know a lot of you may have not seen my mention of an epilogue in the notes for last chapter, so hopefully you'll see this! If any of you want to continue Elsa and Anna's story in your own spinoff fanfics, be my guest (but please credit me); otherwise, I consider MSB to be at its natural ending. Hope you all enjoy the last slice!

In all seriousness, thanks to everyone who has waited this long for what is essentially a one-off smutty fic about D*sney sisters to be finished. I owe so much to this story; it changed my life in a very literal, very unexpected way. Elsa and Anna's true love thawed my jaded heart and encouraged me to keep writing, even when I was sank deep in the darkness of a miserable life, and to explore who I am in ways I never felt brave enough to do. I'm in such a better place now than when this began. It's been a pleasure being part of this fandom, and hopefully I will continue to enjoy it for a long time to come.

Until we meet again,

Jessex

[AO3] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

EPILOGUE

Min Søsters Bursdagsmadrass: Anna

~ Five Months Later ~

Okay, okay, not quite five months have passed since we saved our kingdom from my sister's magic. Closer to four-and-a-half. But the time has flown by so much that it feels more like a week.

Kristoff and Sven came galloping up to the gates just as we were exiting. The ice boy was a lot less shocked that I was arm-in-arm with Elsa than I expected; probably because he pretty much already caught us in flagrante delicto before. He tried to offer congratulations, and I gave him a big hug to cut through all that awkwardness.

Olaf showed up not long after. Well, we came across a puddle that used to be Olaf; I'd know that carrot nose anywhere. Before I could start sobbing, Elsa calmly created a little ice-flurry and rebuilt him as easy as if she were breathing; he was disoriented, but didn't take long to be back to his cheerful self, hugging us and congratulating us on figuring out that we belonged together. That made sense the more I thought about it. Seriously, why wouldn't our snow-baby always know his parents should stay together?

Naturally, there were a few people who came to the levee that didn't condone our love. I wish I could say differently. Most of them were either too afraid to speak out against us — probably because my sister was some kind of ice witch, that tends to make even the bravest of men need a change of underwear — or they were genuinely happy we were happy, and summer was back. But one or two tried to shame us. Didn't go well, considering we were the monarchy and surrounded by supporters. More insisted we needed a king, at the very least for the purpose of heirs. I tried to tell them that Olaf was our heir, which got a lot of weird looks, but Elsa insisted that it was our decision if and when we crossed that bridge. I guess that's why she's the queen, right? I mean, can you imagine me as the queen of Arendelle? No way!

Hans was tried and convicted of treason against the kingdom. I didn't even go; I didn't want to look at him again if I could help it. But I watched from the castle walls with my sister as they led him away to a ship bound for the Southern Isles. We figured his family would make sure the sentence was severe if they wanted to maintain a good trade partnership with Arendelle. Plus, we wouldn't have to deal with him still being in our home. Win-win.

We also shipped old Weaseltown out. He can peacock-strut and backstab on his own turf.

Everything flew by a lot faster after those first few days. Kristoff was our new icemaster general — totally a real title, thank you — and Olaf's cheery presence got everyone used to the idea of magic. The people slowly grew to accept that their queen had a queen of her own. At first, we tried not to be too open with our relationship, but even though everybody thinks of me as the free spirit, it was Elsa who decided we should begin taking walks through the kingdom, hand-in-hand. At first, we got a few stinkeyes, but little by little, they saw we were happy, and not hurting anyone with our taboo love, and… it just became normal, I guess.

Which is fantastic! I mean, if they didn't I would have bought a whole collection of lutes to start smacking them with, but that didn't turn out to be necessary. Good thing; a co-queen shouldn't brawl with her subjects. Looks kinda bad.

As we hit the middle of December and the weather was turning colder without my sister's influence, I started scheming. We had enjoyed four wonderful months of getting to know each other all over again. Even though I'm basically a big ball of libido, somehow Elsa convinced me that we shouldn't just start banging each other's brains out every day. How dare she! But I have to admit, having that sex-free courtship time was somehow a magic all its own.

Because we were behind. By thirteen years. I found out just how well-read my sister was, since she had ploughed through book after book when she wasn't trying to practice controlling her magic. That was something we had in common, since I was often equally bored; it turned out we had read a lot of the same books, and we could compare our thoughts and feelings about them over many, many cups of tea. She never did start talking to paintings like I did, but when I introduced them to her, at least she was bemusedly giggling behind her hand instead of openly mocking me, or telling me I needed medical attention. And we went horseback riding, and swimming, ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. Started going through our parents' things at last, painful though it was. Learned about the kind of adults we had become since we last knew each other as children.

And kissed, sure. Just because we didn't start rolling around in the bed sheets right away didn't mean I was going to let us be complete prudes.

However… my sister's birthday was fast approaching, and I knew I had to do something big. Maybe in a literal sense. So the scheming turned to plotting, and the plotting turned to planning. And then the plans got put in motion leading up to her big day.

~ o ~

"Alright, alright, Olaf! I'm going!"

"Sorry, Elsa, but there's no time to waste!" I could hear him replying to her from the other side of the door. I could just barely see her slippered feet and his snow stumps through the crack underneath. So weird doing that from the inside this time… "I guess. I've never had a birthday, but Anna told me this is your biggest one yet, and we got a schedule to keep!"

"Okay, little guy," she laughed at him easily. Even though I couldn't see, I could just picture her petting over his head. "Thank you."

"Yep! And oh, I was supposed to do something else, it was… yeeeessss! Anna told me I should 'get lost for the rest of the day'. So I guess my question is, does that mean until sundown? Or midnight? And how lost do I have to get? I can get lost just in this castle, it's so big, but she was pointing at the gates when she said it…"

"Tell you what. Why don't you go pay Kristoff and Sven a visit? That should be far enough."

"But I won't be lost if I know where I'm going," he told her in a patient tone, as if she were the one who was missing something instead.

"My mistake," she laughed fondly. "Just have a little adventure outside of the castle and we will see you in the morning."

"Okie-dokie! Have fun, don't do anything I wouldn't do! Or do, because you're not me, so you should be doing things I wouldn't do? Maybe? Especially if I'm going to be getting lost and you don't need to be lost. I don't know if that's exactly…"

He was still talking by the time his voice started to fade around the corner. The rest of the sentence was cut off by Elsa knocking on my door.

"Go away, Elsa," I called back at her in an exaggeratedly pouty tone.

"Anna," she sighed. "Yes, I know I was the one saying that to you for a decade of our lives, but this joke is starting to get a little old now."

"Whaaaaaat? No, I don't think so."

"It's officially old as of today. Now, may I come in, or will you be coming out?"

"Think we both already did that last part," I giggled. "Did you, um, prepare?"

"For the love of- yes! Though I don't know why, I let Gerda bathe me thoroughly, and now I am standing outside your door, scrubbed raw and regretting that I listened to her, because you are being a pain in the-"

She didn't finish that thought because I unlocked the door just then. But I didn't open it for her. I was too busy scampering across the floor of my chambers to stand by the bed, grinning from ear-to-ear like a loon. And don't judge, okay? I'd been planning this for a long time.

"Um…" The door creaked open, and one of her baby blues peered around the inside of the darkened room. The sun had already set, so it was only the moonlight and the single candle on my bedside table providing illumination. "A-Anna?"

"Please enter," I said in a pretentiously royal tone.

"Oh, your robe is like mine," she said with a small smile as she eased the door shut behind her.

"Yep! Silk, from the East! I mean, you fill yours out a little better — especially up top. But that's one of the gifts. And I figured, hey, might as well get one for me, too!"

Barely glancing down at the blue silk covering her sizable assets, she shook her head with a small laugh. "It's very nice, thank you. But I thought I told you I didn't want you to make a big deal about my birthday; we should be focused on the Yule festivities for the kingdo-"

"No, no, no," I teased her with a wave of my index finger, bouncing on my heels excitedly. "This is the first time in thirteen years I have been able to celebrate this with you. Give me this one, okay?"

"When can we stop saying the number thirteen and start really enjoying our lives again?"

"When it's been fourteen years. Now… can you take that robe off and hop up on the bed for me?"

Oh, that shrewd little smirk that blossomed on my sister's face. It was both breathtakingly beautiful and super sexy. She was all the time, anyway, but there were moments that it stood out a lot more. "Ahhhh. So that's what all this is about, is it? You think tonight we are going to break our courtship."

"Mmmmaybe. But even if we don't, I still want more with you tonight. If that's okay," I added hastily, fidgeting with my hands behind my back.

"I see." Elsa stepped forward to smooth her hands up and down the green silk covering my chest, teasing her fingernails over my neck. Definitely not making it any easier to stop my lady parts from launching a hostile takeover of my brain, I can tell you! "And… this is very important to you, isn't it?"

"Y-yeah." Clearing my throat, I said, "And I understand why courting was important to you. And it's been great! Really, I loved getting to know you all over again, and we have been having so much fun. But… maybe just a little playing tonight? Please?"

As she glared across into my eyes, I brought my thumb and forefinger up between our faces, half an inch apart. That was all it took to make her burst out laughing.

"That little, hmm?" she finally chuckled as my cheeks burned. "Okay. I assume once I am in position, you will tackle me on this bed?"

"Yeah. Well, not 'tackle', but I'll join you. I just want you to feel how soft it is first."

That got Elsa's eyebrows raising in slight surprise. "Soft, hm? Did you get yourself a new bed for my birthday?"

"I dunno, did I?" I gasped. Hoping my acting skills were at least good enough to hide how excited I was.

Not quite. But at least Elsa hadn't fully figured out my cunning scheme. She pointed at my face and hissed under her breath, "There had better not be anyone hiding in here."

"Hiding? Wait, why would I stick anybody else in here and then tell you to take off your clothes?"

"How should I know? Sometimes you have a really strange sense of humour, Anna."

"Not that strange! Surprise creepy people sounds plain old mean!" But before she could say anything else, I placed a hand over my heart and raised the other one. "I do hereby solemnly pledge that nobody is going to jump out of the wardrobe at you. Or anything else like that."

"Fine, I believe you," she laughed as she stepped from her slippers and let the silk fall from her shoulders, exposing her smooth, pale back. Even now that we had been going for walks and rides, she was still white as alabaster, despite the alternating tans and sunburns I had.

"Mmm…"

"Again, my birthday seems to be full of gifts for you," she accused playfully with a little glance over her shoulder at me as she approached the bed, moving to climb atop it. "Little pervAAAHHH?!"

SPLAT.

Nope, I definitely couldn't hold back anymore. I wrapped my arms around my middle and burst out into gales of laughter, shaking all over and trying my best not to fall down. "ELSA! Your face — you should see your face!"

"I'm- what is- ANNA!" my poor sister finally burst out as she slipped and slid everywhere, defiling all my hard work. "What is the meaning of this?! What IS this, where did- is this CAKE?!"

Cackling and bouncing up and down as I clapped my hands, I finally crowed, "YES! Isn't it incredible?! Doesn't it look just like my bed? I mean, it did before you jumped on it, but even still, the rest of it!"

God, she looked hilarious. I was laughing, but was doing my best not to actually point at Elsa while I did it. And anyone would have laughed; her face covered in so much chocolate and frosting, a huge chunk falling from her chin to splash onto her right breast even while she blinked at me in wonder. Never had our regal queen looked so un-regal.

"You… made… a bed-sized cake… just to play this prank on me." She scraped some of the frosting from her eyelids and flicked it away, turning slightly so she could kneel on the layers of confection. That only made me laugh so hard I snorted like a pig. "This is… I have no words. I literally have no words, I could never have anticipated this."

"Aww, don't be grumpy," I teased breathlessly as I got rid of my own robe, dropping it right next to hers. "Just because I got you good this time! You freaked out, it was the most amazing thing I've watched in my whole life!"

"Yes, well, the show is ov- Anna, what are you doing now? Don't tell me- are you going to jump into this cake with me?! That's insane!"

I hesitated. "Well… I was before you called it 'insane'…" But then I approached the edge of the bed, hands on my hips. No way was I going to chicken out that easily. "This wasn't just a prank. I really wanted to do this for you."

That finally got her to laugh, and when she started she found it hard to stop. I laughed with her, watching her slap her caked thigh a few times. But before I could join her on the bed, she suddenly breathed, "Insane… but beautiful. I've never seen a woman more lovely in the entire world."

My heart skipped over a beat, and I hoped she couldn't tell how hard my nipples were in the low light. "Ahhhhh, now you're just lying. We both know you own a mirror."

"Nice try," she laughed, biting her sugar-coated lip for a moment to weather my counter-compliment. Then she tilted her head slightly while asking, "Why? This is the strangest surprise I have ever received — and that includes that certain birthday of yours. But I can tell it means a lot to you, so could you help me…?"

Great. Now I had to actually face the music, and it was going to take a lot of exposing of feelings. So I took a deep breath before throwing my inhibitions to the wind... and letting my knees sink into the cake.

"That is so wrong," I groaned, feeling one of my eyes twitch.

"I know. But once you get used to it, it's… still wrong, but interesting." She was leaning slightly on one arm, moving her legs out to one side. Always so ladylike, even in a big mound of baked sweetness.

"So here it is," I sighed. "You and me, even when we were really little… chocolate was our soft spot. We could never resist it. And especially after my birthday, when we bonded over it again… I knew your birthday had to be something big, since I could finally celebrate it with you. Something that mattered to both of us. And fun! I thought fun was really important, too. Took me a while to figure out just how I wanted to do this, but once I had this idea, I just… I knew. This was the only thing that would be good enough."

Though she had been listening with a small smile, my last sentence wiped it away. Why? What did I say wrong? Her cake-slicked hand lifted to caress my cheek.

"Anna, anything would have been good enough. Even if this had turned out to be a normal bed, I would have been so happy. How much you spend, how much you plan these gifts, it's sweet but you don't have to go to so much trouble. Don't you know my favourite gift is you?"

My lips only got the chance to part very slightly — when she booped me. She booped my nose with frosting on that finger. The Queen of Arendelle, everybody.

"You little stinker." But her words kept me from retaliating. "You… you mean that, huh? That I'm enough?"

"I do." Her lips pecked mine. "You always have been. I'm just sorry I wasn't able to show you until these past few months. But now, I get to make up for lost time."

Sliding closer, I whispered, "Same here."

And that was as far as I could get before I was attacking her mouth. Elsa welcomed me gratefully, humming as she pulled my body closer. I knew she was getting cake all over me, but I had kind of resigned myself to that when I concocted this whole crazy scheme. Literally concocted.

Which was what she asked about next. "How long did this take to bake?"

"Oh, a couple of days. The trick was keeping the parts we already made fresh so they wouldn't spoil before we finished the rest of it. Kristoff helped me with that, grabbed me a few blocks of ice; normally I would ask you to do it with a little magic, but I mean, since it was a surprise for you that would have been pretty stupid."

"Yes, I suppose so," she giggled, rubbing her fingertips against each other experimentally. "Smooth frosting… buttercream?"

"Of course! And I wanted to add a bunch of berries, but then it wouldn't have looked like my bed, because I don't normally have a bunch of berries on it." While Elsa laughed again, I slipped my arms around her waist. "And yeah, I know you still think it's weird I wanted to be in a cake like this. Plus it's a big waste of food. But for just this one birthday, the first one since we reunited, I wanted to give you something so big it was literally all around us. Like we're part of the cake instead of just the other way around."

Her voice was so gentle and warm when she responded, "I believed you the first time, Anna. But thank you for elaborating. I love knowing how you think, how your mind works. My amazing, clever sister."

Again, we kissed, deeper and longer and with no inhibitions. We tried to restrain ourselves when we were out in public, of course, but alone in my room? Nobody looking over our shoulders? Free as wild horses.

By the time we came up for air, I was no longer the clean one because we had been rolling around in the cake-bed. Sure, I still felt guilty for putting the castle cooks through so much work just so we could wreck it, but at least Kristoff and I gave them a hand — and I gave them the day off once they were through. Anyway, basically the only places where chocolate and frosting hadn't accumulated multiple layers was our faces, because they were so close to each other that nothing could get in between them.

"Are we supposed to be eating any of this?" Elsa laughed, running her finger through some on my shoulder.

"Well, yeah. I wouldn't have done this if it was just for show; this might as well have been a big frosted mud pie." Then I held up…

"Anna, where could you possibly have been hiding that?!"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Elsa merely blinked at me for a few seconds until I caved. "Okay, I had it in my butt."

"What- that sounds incredibly painful!"

"No, no, I was just clenching my cheeks on the handle. Obviously! Like I used the handle outside your door that first time. Come on, do you really think anybody would stick the pointy part into anywhere that sensitive?"

"Well, it is you," she laughed as she reached for the fork. Our fork. "Though I suppose I admire the control you have over your muscles back there." Then she hesitated, her brow furrowing. I could figure out what was holding her back.

"I also took one of Gerda's very thorough baths," I informed her to put her fears at ease. Which made her finally take it with a slight shake of her head. "Oh — and I helped one of the servants mop the floor before we got started in here. Trust me, when I say you can eat off the floor, I really mean it this time."

"You really have thought of everything; such attention to detail. It's almost a little scary."

"Love makes you a little scary sometimes, I guess."

"I guess." Then she slid the fork through some of the cake that we hadn't already rolled in, bringing it up to my lips. "After you."

"Oh! Wait… you first, it's your birthday."

"Diving into it counted as me going first," she chuckled. "Besides, I tasted a little on your lips once they caught some from my lips. Go on." And since I had no argument against that, and she was looking at me with those bemused, insistent eyes, I took the bite into my mouth.

"Ohmyghob, ibzo goob!"

"Anna, manners." Which I could appreciate the irony, since there were very little manners involved in rolling around in a giant cake. Probably. Maybe they do that more often in Corona…

"You have GOT to try this," I gushed once I had swallowed, grabbing the fork and scooping up another big bite for my sister.

"Can't I have a different fork?" But I wasn't budging. And she knew how important that particular utensil was to the both of us. "Gerda bathed you the same way she bathed me, didn't she?"

"It was like standing in a geyser."

"Fine." She accepted her first proper bite. Her blue eyes slid closed in ecstasy as she hummed her approval, eventually nodding after she had chewed for a moment.

"Amazing, right?" All she did was nod, raising a hand to give the okay symbol. So I helped myself to another bite, clutching my hand to my chest as tears welled up in my eyes.

Seriously, it was that good. Best cake I ever had in my life, up to and including the one with my sister's extra frosting.

"Okay," Elsa panted a couple minutes later when we had eaten our fill for the moment. "I was teasing you before, but I take it all back; I do want to live here and sleep here."

"Surrounded by layers of chocolatey goodness?" I giggled as I flopped onto my back, spread eagle in piles of sweet perfection. It was like Heaven, or Valhalla or whatever you believe is the good afterlife.

"Exactly. Fun and function." I glanced over to see she was lying on her side, propped up on one elbow so she could look down at me with a smile full of so much affection that my heart skipped a beat. "So very you."

At first all I did was chuckle a little and smile up at her. But then when she leaned down to kiss my chest, I let my eyes fall closed as a little sigh escaped my lips. "Mmm…"

"You were after something like this, I believe?"

Opening my eyes again, I was just in time to see her tongue slide across the meat of my right breast, the one closest to her. The track of freckled skin she revealed by cutting through the chocolate confection gleamed from her saliva, and it was somehow both offensive and arousing at the same time.

"Y-yeah. Something like that." I cleared my throat and caressed along her back, through cake and hair. "But you don't have to. If that whole courting thing is so-"

"We can take a break," she interrupted with an impish smile. "One night, for both Yule and my birthday. And for you, because I know how hard it has been to keep your hands off me."

A blast of air exploded from my lungs as she licked again. "HAH! W-wow, somebody's conceited in here, and I think her name rhymes with… with, uh…"

"With what? Jelsa?"

"No, that's not a thing."

I was still trying to think of a rhyme for her name when she found my nipple, and my squeal blasted every thought out of both of our minds. My chest was a feast for my sister for the moment as my conscious thoughts faded, simply letting her enjoy me. Because I enjoyed it just as much. A few times, she hit the nerves just right that I twitched, digging my nails briefly into her back and making her hiss in response. Some extra added fun.

Then she started moving down my stomach. I knew where she was going; this wasn't our first time trying this particular activity. But the butterflies were as fresh as ever, and my thighs tried to trap her head there.

"Oh, not tonight?" she purred.

"Reflex," I panted shortly, trying not to laugh at the cake all over her face now. Because even though it was funny, it also wasn't… since she was about to go to town on me.

Oh, she did. She really, really did — and it blew my mind so much more this time, somehow. Maybe it was because for the past few months, I only had that fork handle for company in my bed. Being pent up and needy tends to make the release ten times stronger, you know.

"Elsa!" I whined after a few hours. Okay, it was probably a minute or two, but it felt like so long! "You're really… how did you… get this good?!"

By the time she came up for air to answer me, she was gripping my ass cheeks to hold my pelvis closer to her face. "You're worth trying my best for, Anna. And… I may have practiced on an ice-replica." When I laughed at that, a frosting-smeared eyebrow arched. "Ooh…"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Your backside is so firm, and I felt it flexing in my hands. Powerful."

"Y-yeah, I exercise a lot. Could probably pick up a gold coin with it."

"Really?" I felt her poking around back there, and I clenched — again, reflex. "Wow. Do you think… you could squeeze this?"

Before I had any chance to ask a question or protest, I felt a finger sliding between my cheeks. What in the fjord was Elsa doing?! It felt wrong, and disturbing… and hot? Was it hot somehow?! Maybe, but only because it was her, and she had already been going down on me, I'm pretty sure; if anybody else had tried that, especially when I wasn't already chomping at the bit to get off, their hand would be kindling for the fireplace in the corner.

So don't let anybody tell you Elsa is a prude who would never do anything like that. That whole regal facade is just a smoke screen. She can get just as wild as me.

"Wow, your muscles really are strong," Elsa breathed in honest surprise, not just teasing me. "I'm impressed."

Freya, I tried so hard to hold it together. To control my reaction. But as she dragged her finger back from my crack, brushing the little forbidden spot that I had been trying not to think about, I shivered and let out a little moan. Dooming myself.

"Anna?"

"Yes! I m-mean, hello, yeah, you can… you can start back in on the goods now! Remember my goods? Right there in front of you?"

"No, wait. Did you enjoy…?" Probably trying to spare me some embarrassment, she didn't finish the sentence. Instead, she raised her frosting-covered finger and flexed it in my field of vision.

"Oh, did I really get cake in there, too? Sheeze, we've really been going crazy!"

My nervous laughter made it way too obvious I was just trying to distract my sister. Why was I so bad at that sometimes? She looked at me suspiciously for a moment, then glanced at the finger, then back at me.

"Anna-"

"Please, can we not-"

"Anna, it's okay. If you want me to leave that alone, I will; I was only asking how you felt about it. That's all."

Though her words didn't dial back my embarrassment, it soothed away the anxiety spike. "Oh. Well… no, I didn't mind that much. Not really. It's just because… like, after all you've been doing to my clit and tits, I'm kind of sensitive… everywhere. So it was pretty interesting, but I would never ask you to do it again! That's too big a favour!"

Elsa thought that over for a moment, and I finally started to relax. Then she kissed my inner thigh. "Just relax, my love. My Lord Anna." I groaned, thinking back to the coronation ball. Even though it all worked out okay. "I'll take care of you. And all you have to do is ask, and I will stop or change what I am doing. You can always talk to me, alright?"

"Okay," I said, completely relieved. My queen was so sweet to me, always taking care of me as much as she could. Making me feel safe.

Well, I did feel a little less safe when she started kissing closer to my behind. And then when I felt two thumbs pulling the cheeks apart, I wriggled all over and gasped out, "WHOA! Elsa, are you- you're not gonna-"

"Just going to try to get the cake in here," she laughed softly. "Unless you have objections."

Did I? The whole thing was too weird to have any objections. And while I was still trying to come up with one, I felt that wriggling tongue press somewhere I had never wanted or needed it to go. Was Elsa really doing this? She really didn't mind? We did enough wrong and taboo things already that this just seemed like one step too far! But the way she was going at my ass suggested she didn't agree.

And it was… different. Not good, not bad; just unsettling even while it was stimulating. When she was still at it a minute later with no signs of stopping, one of my hands started trailing the handle of that trusty fork down my stomach. Maybe, if I could take care of the main attraction, a little sideshow in the back room wouldn't be so bad.

"Mm?" she hummed, tongue still sliding over my taut skin. She must have seen my fingers moving, because she drew back with a chuckle. "Oh, did you need me to move along?"

"Y-yeah, Elsa, I… we could try that again later, but right now I'm…"

With a solemn nod, she went right back to going down on me. Who could complain about a girlfriend like that? Just takes care of my needs without any complaint. What an angel.

"Oh ffff- MMM!" Yeah, I had to scream into my hand to let out some of my energy. Luckily, it wasn't the one holding the fork or I might have stabbed myself in the face. A minute later, I gasped, "Elsa! I'm almost there! Almost there!"

My sister did not slow down until I actually was there. It felt like she had six tongues instead of two — which she might actually have been able to pull off if she used her ice powers, but I didn't feel her mouth get any colder. I came so hard and shook all over, and the whole time Elsa just held onto my hips and devoured me like I was the best cake she had ever tried. Which was probably how she felt.

Once my heat faded, she lowered me into the cake again and smirked. "That happened awfully quickly for someone who didn't like me playing with her a little lower than usual."

"Y-yeah! Well… you… let me get pent up for multiple months!"

"That is fair. I hope my apology was satisfactory."

Pretending to think real hard about it, I screwed up my face and tapped my chin. Elsa laughed. "Weeeeeelllllllllll… on one condition."

"What condition?" She started when I moved to pin her to the bed. "Oh!"

"This one." My chosen target was her neck. She shivered a little when I ran my tongue along it, enjoying the rich chocolate mixing with the light purity of her skin. I wanted to eat Elsa whole.

"Anna… you… make it hard to breathe."

"Elsa…"

"N-no, I… I'm really-!"

With a shock, I realized she meant the way my hand was pushing into the middle of her abdomen. "OH! Shit, Elsa, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" As she took a deep breath, I caressed her side. "Better? Man, I am just really dumb sometimes…"

Elsa pulled me down into her embrace. "We already covered that. You are not dumb. You have never been dumb."

"You sure? I mean, not that I'm trying to argue with you, but you keep saying that and then I keep doing dumb things."

"Because you're excited. I am, too; I've just had a lot more practice... controlling myself."

For good reason. But since she wasn't judging me, I pushed myself back up to begin devouring the cake covering her ribs and stomach. She giggled a couple of times, and I smiled at the way her abdominal muscles flexed under my lips, bumping up against my nose. I could have kept eating off her and exploring her for hours and never got bored. Not once.

"Mmhhh, this really is so good," I sighed as I got closer and closer to the finish line. "The cake, you… who could ask for more?"

"I'm glad you… approve." But I could tell she was nervous. Why? It's not like this was the first time we had done anything like this; just the first in a little while.

"Elsa?" She didn't answer right away. Watching her bite her lip and look anxious was cute, but I still prompted her, "Hey. You okay?"

"What? Oh… yes, I'm fine." My face must have looked extra unconvinced, because a second later, she relented. "I'm still a little afraid of losing control of my powers when I…"

"When you what? Oh, wait, you're- right, got it, you don't need to explain. But hey, even when you've done that before, all you did was give me a little extra blast of snow. I don't mind a cold cake."

Tittering the slightest amount, despite the fear in her eyes, she reached down to run her fingers through my sugar-matted fringe. "Neither of us do. And I know you're probably right, but I can't help but worry I will hurt you for a third time. I don't think I could take that."

"Me, either. But you won't. I hear you, I do, but I know you have a handle on this now. You've been doing so good! Nobody in Arendelle is scared of you anymore. So just… let me do the magic this time."

That was that. Even though she was still biting her lip, her brow still creased, she didn't protest further as I kissed the inside of her thigh, devouring the frosting I found there. But I still didn't like that she was wound up so tight. So I figured hey, why not try to loosen her up?

"So, if I get a couple of fingers in you and really start going to town… does that make this pound-cake?"

Oh, now she looked mad. I barely had enough time to register the movement before her foot was pushing into my face, trying to shove me off the bed entirely.

"Hey, whoa whoa, Elsa! Come on, I'm sorry!"

"Why don't I believe you?" she demanded in a would-be stern voice. The answer might have been because I was laughing up a storm. But I caught sight of her smile, which told me she was just trying to mess around with me. One of the many things I had been missing over the past thirteen years.

"Truce! I'll keep my corny jokes to myself if you don't shove me the rest of the way off this bed!" Really, I already had to whip one leg back and brace against the floor to keep from falling as it was. But she slowly began to relent. "Thank you."

"I ought to put my finger back in your 'fork holder' for that one," she grunted.

"It was one time! I don't go around carrying forks back there all the time, you know!"

"Actually, no, I don't know that. Because I never inspect the back of your dress when you are casually walking down the halls."

"You could, though…" As she just shook her head at me, I decided to get a little more playful.

"AH! Not my feet — don't bite my feet, you know how ticklish iyyyahahahhaaaa!"

Too late. My teeth were nibbling all over her chocolatey toes in retaliation for almost being knocked on my butt. The way she began kicking was extremely dangerous, but at least now my childhood memories were intact; I remembered learning by watching our father that you had to hold her leg steady when you tickled her, or you were asking for an eyeful of flailing heel.

"STOP!" she cackled. "I'm- I am about to ruin this cake! Anna!"

Right away, I broke off with a laugh. No matter how much fun I was having, it wasn't worth ruining an entire cake-bed by making her wet herself. "Okay, okay. Yellow frosting is as bad as yellow snow, I guess."

"You… monster!" But she was still laughing a little, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling in an attempt to regain her breath. Which looked like she had been doing something else.

Flawless. I was head over heels, alright.

"Sorry. But do you know how cute you are when you get tickled?"

Clearing her throat, she pushed up onto her elbows before answering me. "That is… because I didn't get to run around outside the way you did. Not after my ninth birthday. So my feet are…"

Oh. Well that was a sad reason for them to be extra sensitive. But I decided to simply kiss the one I had been attacking and say, "Perfect. You were gonna say 'perfect' right? Because that's the only answer I'm accepting right now."

Shaking her head a little at me, she let out an exasperated sigh that was followed by a small smile. "You're too kind to me."

"Nah. Just know you deserve the best."

Again, I kissed, and she hummed as her smile grew. When my lips parted to let my tongue slide between two of her toes, she rolled her eyes and pulled her foot away. "Fine, I get it, you love every inch of me."

"Glad we got that straightened out. Now, I have my eye on a couple of pastries… one sec."

Her hand raised up to rest on the back of my head when I attacked her chest. I figured she would probably appreciate having some time to recover before I went back between her thighs. The sounds floating out of her lungs were every bit as enthralling as if I had gone straight for the crux of her thighs, of course, but at least this way I could enjoy my cake a little longer.

"You are… so persistent." I switched to the other peak, my hand wrapping around the mountain below and kneading just enough to add pressure and pleasure without causing pain. "Mmmhh, and I almost want to ask if you have been practicing on someone else!"

"Maybe I made an ice-replica," I shot at her as I moved back down. Her grin was so huge. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's do this."

"You make it sound like you're about to go cliff-diving!" she laughed.

"Oh, I am. I'm about to dive down deep into your sound."

Elsa's lips parted, probably to reprimand me for another corny line. But all that came out was a moan when I pressed my mouth tightly against her soft folds through the frosting and chocolate. And I intended to clean every speck of that from her by the time I was finished.

My Elsa. My queen of snow and ice, grace and beauty and power. The only woman in the world. My mind and heart were full of desire for the goddess I was making writhe with my every teasing touch. And it wasn't just that she was the most beautiful girl in Arendelle, not that she had given me an orgasm so recently. This was about way more than repaying a debt or physical beauty; it was my sister. The one person who had always been a part of me, and who always will.

"A-Anna!" she gasped — well, she had been doing that for a couple of minutes, but this one was louder and stronger. Somehow, I just knew what she meant. "I'm… I'm still scared! I love you!"

I loved her, too. But I wanted to show her in some way besides slowing down to tell her with words. So I moved one hand from her hip to push our fork into hers, which had been clutching uselessly at another pile of birthday cake. And wow, did she respond! My hand was caught with the fork between our fingers, and it was such a tight grip that I felt like she would never let me go again.

Which did as much for me as I might have been doing for her.

There was more snow this time. Somehow, I had kind of expected that; I mean, when you tell an ice witch that she shouldn't hold back with her power, you're going to get more power. Makes sense, right? But even while I was still feeling her flesh pulse against my lips and tongue, her juices running down my chin, tiny pinpricks of cold were dusting my back in the spots that weren't covered by chocolate.

"Oh," I panted when I finally came up for air, satisfied that she no longer needed little licks for little aftershocks. "Snow! See? I told you everything would be fine. And this isn't even that bad!"

Though of course, we were both looking around at the winter wonderland filling the room. It was only a couple of inches deep, but spread over that large an area it still added up to a decent amount.

"It's… a lot," she panted. "But at least there aren't any… nothing dangerous."

Scoffing, I crawled up to lay my head on her shoulder, curling my entire body around hers as tightly as I could. Needing to be that close to her now. "Dangerous? You? Come on, you're a big pussycat."

"We both know… that's… a stretch." Finally, she cleared her throat and simply took in a couple of deep breaths so she wouldn't be so winded. Then she turned to look into my eyes with a smile full of afterglow and affection. "Thank you. For that, for all of this; for my perfect birthday night."

"Yeah. You got it. I'm always going to show you how much I love you, no matter how big I have to go to get the point across."

"Anna, you don't have to. I already know." We shared a firm kiss. Then she crinkled her nose. "Oh, that's… did you really enjoy me adding that to your cake? It's so strange."

"Maybe I wouldn't have if I didn't know what it was," I admitted with a giggle. "But knowing? Oh yeah. Totally hot."

"If you say so." Then she suddenly looked horrified. "Oh no — my lips have- you were kissing-"

"All I tasted was Sister-Queen and cake," I headed her off before she actually said it out loud. "Don't have to make it even more gross. Seriously, you didn't run away from my butt? I thought that would be a fate worse than death!"

"No, no," she reassured me, completely contented now that we had both enjoyed ourselves and could relax. "I wasn't lying for your benefit; it wasn't that bad. Especially when mixed with chocolate cake. Though I agree with you about my essence on this subject; probably wouldn't have enjoyed it not knowing what it is, or by itself. Well…"

Running my index fingertip in small circles on her stomach, I prompted, "Well?"

"I could try it by itself. Maybe. Someday."

"Go ahead. I won't… well, I might judge a little, but since we're already sisters who knock boots, it's not gonna hold a lot of water."

"Mmhmm. I suppose that's a valid point."

"Ohhhhh, I just wanna lay here forever!" I burst out as I curled even harder around Elsa, and she laughed again, nuzzling into my hair. "Though I do have another bath ready in the next chamber. I'm no doctor, but it's probably not the best idea for us to leave cake in some of the places we have cake right now."

Nodding, she whispered, "In a minute. This is so comfortable. Actually, I'm surprised we're not sinking all the way down to the floor."

"Oh — yeah, that's because we took a bed-sized wooden box and made the cake on top of that. Like, it's pretty much a bunch of little cakes smushed together in a grid pattern to make one huge sheet cake, and then we just put the icing all over it and down the sides with the right colours and patterns. So it looked like a real bed, with a quilt and all."

"Clever," she chuckled, scratching at my rib cage just enough to prompt a giggle from me before she stopped. "Really, I was flabbergasted at first, but now I really admire all the work you did for this. Because it turned out to be a lot of fun."

Her praise made my heart glow. "It did, didn't it? Chocolate cake slumber party. Go me."

We both fell into the kind of comfortable silence you can only have with family. Lover, sister, friend… Elsa was all of those things to me. And we had beaten all the odds and found our way back to each other, and we were alive, and our lives were wonderful. There wasn't much else I could ask for.

"I love you, my Anna," she breathed into my hair before rolling over to prop herself up on her elbow and look at me. I mirrored the gesture, gazing into her eyes.

"Love you, too, Majesty. And I always will."

Elsa kissed me hard and long, and held me close for such a long time that time itself ceased to hold meaning. Definitely not your run-of-the-mill anniversary of being born, but I finally knew: what we had? Different-good. The best kind of different a princess could ask for.

~ Takk for Reisen ~

#Min Søster Bursdagskake #cake fic #min soster bursdagskake #forkanna writes #elsanna fanfiction #elsanna fandom #elsanna #jess the writer #the cake fic

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creativitycache · 4 years

Note

Is Martin going to be mentioned again in ToT? Or is that little snippet in the buried going to be all Jon remembers?

Below is Spoilers, including details breakdown of the story’s meta. Bewarned! This is long & convoluted as all get out. It basically can be summed up like this:

Martin and other future people (not just events) have actually been mentioned more than that, and to answer your question right off of the bat, yes Jon will continue to remember.

As I was originally answering this, it kind of spiraled out of control as I dove into a detailed breakdown of some things so I decided to just go for the whole hog and put everything down here in one place. I’ve got a similar breakdown in another document, but that’s really just for keeping tabs on how many days have passed and not the meta analysis.

TL;DR on meta: Jon is leveling up at a ridiculous speed, but he already was high level to start out with so he’s really just lagging behind his adult self. The more he feeds the more he grows. In the Eyepocalypse, we’ve heard Jon lament that trying to access his powers within his body is like trying to “drink the ocean through a straw”, and it’s only gotten more difficult as his body has shrunk.

Another note on timing: in the original story, Jon had gained multiple marks in back to back horrible days. In my own small way, the pacing of these later chapters is repayment for Jon’s hell week.

Entity Touched events will be in bold. Jon’s powers being activated will be italicized. Remembering a specific person/statement/future event will be noted with (parenthesis). Please note that while I will put a specific name in the parenthesis Jon often does not consciously remember the name nor the full scope of the event/person/statement. I will keep a running total of how many days since the last notable entity touched event at the top.

Ch 1

Jon goes through the Spiral’s Doors. His body merges, and he fluctuates between seeing and Seeing. Eventually, his eyes settle upon Watching constantly. He struggles to remember Section 31 (Daisy and Basira “they were both strangers and enemies and friends“). He Knows Detective Davies exact schedule, and the train schedule. He attempts to Feed via Compelling, unsuccessfully. He Sees Detective Davies schedule change. He Senses stories nearby.

Ch 2

Day 3 post-emerging:

After reading a Story: he Knows the difference between true and fake statements, as well as Mr. Magnus’s true name and that he stole the name Elias. He can See farther than what his eyes should be able to, and is able to Watch Elias. He Compels Elias but does not stay long enough to feed off his answers. He remembers (Barnabas Bennett). He remembers (the feeling of his own rib.) He remembers (going into the Lonely to save someone). When pressed, he remembers (the Unknowing exploding into fire) and losing “them” (his Assistants). This causes him to vomit and creates a void within him that must be filled.

Ch 3

Day 3 post-emerging, less than one hour after reading a Story:

Jon summons tape recorders to listen to stories. He listens to dozens of Stories at the same time. Jon remembers (the layout of the Institute). Jon gives a Statement.

Ch 4

Day 3 post-emerging, hours after consuming dozens of Stories:

Jon remembers (the Dark Sun, and Looking directly at the Entities). Jon remembers (Michael stabbing him for Compelling).

Ch 5

One day after consuming dozens of Stories:

Jon reads a bedtime Story. This reveals to Elias that Jon is able to comprehend all languages.

Ch 6

Jon consumes multiple Stories per day, far exceeding the normal Archivist rate of consumption. He remembers (Elias unable to See him in Orsinov’s Circus) He is unable to lie. He walks through the Archivist nightmares and the nightmares of the Eyepocalpyse, but these future events are unable to be perceived by Elias. During these nightmares, he remembers (being hurt by several “monsters”.)

Post this chapter, assume Jon has read at least one bedtime Story and multiple Stories throughout the day for months.

Ch 7

Jon now Knows all answers to fact-based questions his teachers ask. He begins drawing Eyes that have some will of their own- refusing to be paired. Jon now speaks directly to the Eye. It is confirmed his eyes have now physically changed to be reminiscent of other Avatars of the Eye- ie Elias. Jon Sees all marks left on people by the Entities. He remembers (how the Entities make Avatars), (Simon Fairchild) and (that he did something very bad unwillingly). He can sense when Elias is trying to See into his head.

Ch 8

Jon Feeds off of Emma, and forces her to Know her victim’s pain. Everyone is unable to move or interrupt him. He forces the web of the Mother of Puppets to be Shown. He remembers (where the tunnels are and what they do).

Ch 9

One day after Feeding off of Emma

Jon grows bigger. Jon Knows the (true nature of the Entities, and their effects on the world) and tries to articulate them. His explanation is different than Gertrude’s. He remembers (Tim’s jokes, Martin’s love of fuzzy tarantulas, the fight with Peter, and Michael-as-the-Distortion’s Statement, being friends with his Assistants and that things went wrong when his Assistants were no longer his friends). He thinks, but is not sure, he remembers who the man in the tunnels is (Lietner) and that he can track him down. He can See everyone’s marks and make them visible to others. When attempting to consciously access Knowledge of Michael’s future, he faints and blood comes out of his nose.

Jon consumes a Story. Jon remembers (how to Quit). Jon fights with the Eye’s geas against speaking of escape and wins.

Jon remembers (the Eyepocalypse) and Knows why he can survive on only old stories and statements from Avatars. Reaching for this knowledge is even more difficult than just Michael’s future, and causes him to black out for a significant amount of time with a severe memory wipe. Despite this memory wipe, he remembers (Gertrude does not treat her Assistants well, and the location of Fiona & Joshua Gillespie’s statement).

Ch 10

Jon Knows how to get to the Coffin purely thanks to the Eye, and realizes the Knowledge is external because his sense of direction was previously so poor. He is now able to consciously communicate directly in a back and forth conversation with the Eye, although the Eye is currently only Answering Jon’s Questions and Jon is giving his opinion. Being near the Coffin causes Jon to remember (he was in the Coffin for 3 days).

Being in the Coffin causes Jon to remember (that he got stuck with someone else last time, that he had an anchor, and that it might be M-m-mar- ), then he gets out in a day and a half. This is half the time of the first round, despite Fiona being deeper in than Daisy had been.

Jon Feeds off of John the Buried Avatar.

Ch 11

Day 1 post-Coffin & Feeding off of John

Jon feeds off of Dr. Girard the pediatrician.

Jon still comprehends all languages, but now he can articulate something is strange despite still not realizing he’s not hearing English. Jon grows after feeding. Jon Knows when Fiona is in trouble. His eyesight is noticeably excellent. Jon remembers (Gertrude’s war against the rituals is “stupid”, and that Jonah stole Elias’s body and why. He remembers statements about Agnes, and how Agnes and Gertrude are bound, and what various members of the Cult of the Lightless Flame look like. He also remembers going out for Martin’s birthday and eating ice cream, which is how he knows where the nearest ice cream parlor is.)

This is the last time Jon takes out the crayon drawing of the Eye.

Ch 12

Day 2 post-Coffin & Feeding off of John, Day 1 post Feeding off of Dr. Girard

Jon remembers (you should never hold an Avatar of the Desolation barehanded, and that the tunnels go for miles and miles, and that Smirke realized his architectural theories were wrong.)

Jon Knows he loves tea but hasn’t found one that tastes right. (He’s thinking of Martin’s tea, but he doesn’t realize it.) It’s also revealed that Jon is crying alone sometimes in his room when he thinks no one will notice, but he doesn’t Remember why. When asked, he remembers (he was Made and not Born), and Knows that the Eyepocalypse/”his destiny” is preventable, but he had to lay down before remembering/realizing any further.

He remembered the (statement about Agnes’s childhood, and the Distortion’s Avatars, despite the fact the Distortion would not merge like that until post-ritual, and that Gertrude liked to blow things up/use fire to disrupt rituals.)

The Eye now is giving Jon specific suggestions, ie origami frogs, when he Asked for ideas.

Ch 13

Day 3 post-Coffin & Feeding off of John, Day 2 post Feeding off of Dr. Girard

When asked, he knows there’s no such thing as time where the Eye is, but vomits from trying to Know something directly about where the Fears currently are. Jon remains nauseous but does not faint, have blood loss, or memory loss. Then, when a Story is read to him from Van Closen, he remembers (the contents of a different statement entirely- Fanshaw’s letter.) He struggles to grasp something else the Eye is telling him.

Ch 14

Day 4 post-Coffin & Feeding off of John, Day 3 post Feeding off of Dr. Girard.

Jon remembers (being a manager.) Elias and Fiona do not realize Jon is using terms no one has used around him before- nor do they recognize like Michael did earlier that Jon’s specific grasp of corporate language is far outside the normal range of what children usually have picked up.

Fiona, newly awakened, uses her powers on Jon. He then, when in close proximity to her, is reminded of what information he hadn’t been able to grasp earlier (ie, Eric and Gerry).

Jon enters a battlefield surrounded by Entity-touched deathtraps being sprung. He remembers (wandering untouched in the Eyepocalypse, Mary binding herself to the book.)

Ch 15

Day 4 post-Coffin & Feeding off of John, Day 3 post Feeding off of Dr. Girard.

Jon (remembers “interrupting drinks” and that they always taste better when in a mug- ie, Martin’s tea. He remembers the Dark was “for babies”.)

When awoken, he is able to articulate that he did remember Gerry and Eric.

Jon summons Eric. The Archive speaks. Jon Knows how to edit the Book as Mary Keay did in the original timeline, and does so.

#timeline of theseus #Asks&Answers

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tacitwhisky · 5 years

Photo

Feeling the blues now Game of Thrones has wrapped as a series? Don’t worry, I’ve got your jonsa recovery fic list right here. This is by no means a comprehensive list of all the great fic out there, just the best of the best I’ve read. If there are any other fic you think should be on this list that I missed reblog and tag them.

Season 8 Fix Its (Pt 1 / Pt 2)

In Love and Death We Don’t Decide [Link] | @pardonmymannerssir | Her siblings arrive like leaves carried on a sudden breeze, alighting upon the placidity of her life and casting wide ripples before being swept away again. Their movements are cyclic, changing and shifting like the seasons, but one thing will never change: Winterfell is home.

Come out of hiding (i'm right here beside you) [Link] | @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth | After the death of Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow goes to live beyond the Wall, while Sansa Stark, the newly-named Queen in the North, marries a Dornish prince. Three years later, when Jon finally gathers the courage to return to Winterfell, he finds that while many things have changed, one hasn't: he's still in love with Sansa.

We are buried in broken dreams [Link] | @snowsinthenorth | Prompt: Sansa and Jon sleeping together before he goes to Dragonstone and when he comes back he finds out she is pregnant. A full on s8 fix-it fic at this point.

Essential Reading

The Cold Inside Our Bones [Link] | @xylodemon | 1,904 | The Wall is no place for a woman, but Jon looks at Sansa's gaunt cheeks and hollow eyes and knows he will not send her away.

At a Funeral [Link] | @justadram | 5,231 | There's something about the funeral that makes Sansa need Jon more than ever. Too bad she threw it all away.

What a Disappointment [Link] | @justadram | 7,836 | Sansa Stark and Jon Targaryen are married and neither of them is pleased about it. Set in a world where Rhaegar lives and Jon was raised in King's Landing as a legitimized bastard.

Tree of Hearts [Link] | @uchihabat | 7,239 | It was a secret, shameful thing. The more he denied it, the more unruly it had become within him: a sleeping dragon, around which he tread carefully. There was nothing good about his half-sister, he told himself, but her beauty. "I am not beautiful anymore," she told him through teeth clenched. "It is ugly inside my heart. I am ruined."

Subject: La Bamba [Link] | @ghost-of-bambi | 16,441 | Trust Margaery Tyrell to turn Sansa Stark's 21st birthday party into an exercise in matchmaking.

More fics under the cut.

Canon Divergent

From the fire we rise [Link] | TheEagleGirl | 2,367 | In another world, perhaps Jon would have been the heir to the throne. In this world, his father died on the trident, his mother in childbirth, no witnesses to their union. In this world, Jon is just the bastard prince, and in this world he still wants more.

Brine on the Tongue [Link] | @orangeflavoryawp | They pause, afternoon light shifting in through her window like an accusation – a slant of clarity against their panting forms. “Then leave.” (He doesn’t.) - Jon and Sansa. What breeds in a house of wolves.

Found In Forbidden Nights [Link] | @alienor-woods | 16,777 | In which Robb Stark still refuses to trade Jaime Lannister for his sisters, but Jon Snow decides if being an oathbreaker means he can tell strategy and politics to fuck off, then it's worth it to take matters into his own hands.

Jon of the Kingsguard [Link] | @tacitwhisky | Jon goes to Kingslanding instead of the Wall, there’s no war, and he becomes a knight of the kingsguard even as Joffrey marries Sansa. As Joffrey’s true colors inevitably show Jon is forced to choose between the vows of a knight and the duty of a Stark.

Southern Wolves [Link] | @tacitwhisky | Jon leaves the Wall to save Sansa from Joffrey. Together they wander the war ravaged Riverlands to try and return home.

Missing Scenes

A Cartography of Vulnerability [Link] | @subjunctivemood | 1,720 | Jon is the only one Sansa trusts to do this for her.

Stitch Up All Your Hopes [Link] | @subjunctivemood | Sansa is sick, but she refuses to rest.

'Cause I know that it's delicate [Part1 / Part2] | @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth | 4,865 | Set during "Book of the Stranger," immediately after Sansa arrives at the Wall. Jon goes to build the fire back up, and for a few minutes he stays silent, kneeling at the hearth, not looking at her. Finally he clears his throat. “I know,” he begins, “it’s not exactly what you’re used to.”

We can brave the dark [Link] | @thatgirlnevershutsup | 2,320 | When Arya dares Sansa to spend the night in the crypts, it’s Jon who comes to her rescue.

Modern AU - Short

Caught [Link] | @jonnsansa | 4,055 | The first time they sleep together, she's on a break from Joffrey and they're both a little drunk.

Like real people do [Link] | @thatgirlnevershutsup | 2,749 | For the Twelve Days of Christmas project, have an AU Sansa Stark and Jon Snow doing one of those “first kiss” videos.

Beans [Part1 / Part2 / Part3] | @justadram | Jon and Sansa never seem to be on the same page about their relationship.

Never knew I had it all [Link] | TheEagleGirl | 3,130 | Sansa feels bewitched. She’s never noticed Jon before last month. He was Robb’s silent shadow, outshined by Robb himself, or his friends Theon and Dacey.

Trust & Control [Link] | @jonnsansa | 4,444 | Sansa first sees him at the Tyrell fundraising gala. In a sea of drunk, happy people, he is the singular solemn one, standing as still as a statue against the far wall with a glass of untouched champagne in hand. Or: the 50 Shades AU no one asked for.

Baby, It’s Cold Outside [Link] | Tate | It starts at one of Robb's Christmas parties, with Harry Hardyng and a kiss Sansa's avoiding. The two that follow are another story altogether.

Modern AU - Long

Happiness throws a shower of sparks [Link] | @pardonmymannerssir | 14,115 | “I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Sansa Stark says through a swollen, bloody lip, a pair of sunglasses perched on her nose that don’t completely hide a black eye.

Battlefield [Link] | @uchihabat | 17,264 | “God, we might as well just start a family together,” she blusters, half-joking but of course not joking at all. “We both want kids and we both don’t care how. We’re both single. We’ve known each other all our lives. It’s like a movie.”

I'm Feeling Younger, Every Time That I'm Alone With You [Link] | Tate | 19,872 | Jon's got a crush on Sansa, Sansa's got no idea; it's kind of about a production of "Florian and Jonquil" but it's also just kind of about Jon and Sansa.

Tipsy in a Red Push Up Bra [Link] | @tacitwhisky | 21,320 | Of course the first time Sansa Stark sees Jon Snow in God knows how long, the first time since they lost the house and she’d come to live with her aunt Lysa, it would have to be at a house party where she’s already tipsy on schnapps. And of course it would have to be the one time she’s wearing the ridiculous red push up bra Margaery talked her into buying.

Alternate Universe - Crossover AUs

The Seasons of My Love [Link] | @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth | 48,275 | Months after Ned and Robb are murdered, Sansa returns to Hogwarts for her final year of school. Far from home, she finds she must rely on family friend Jon Snow, now an Auror, to help keep her family together -- and perhaps to help solve the mystery of her father and brother's deaths.

Put a spell on me [Link] | TheEagleGirl | 2,346 | Somewhere along the line, this became less about release and more about him. Or, a Hogwarts au with lots of making out, saving the world from the Dark Lord, and feelings

Saskatoon Berry Pie [Link] | @justadram | 23,179 | When Sansa loses her family in a rail accident, she makes her way to Saskatchewan in search of sanctuary with her cousin, Jon Snow.

As Long As We're Going Down [Link] | @alienor-woods | 37,096 | Four years after Stannis Baratheon wins the Battle of the Blackwater, Sansa Stark finds herself summoned back to King's Landing to serve as a bridesmaid at Crown Princess Shireen's wedding. When King Stannis tries to marry Sansa off to his illegitimate nephew, Edric, she thinks quick and tells him she's already married-- to her bodyguard, Jon Snow.

Post Series

With the Wild Wolves Around You [Link] | @redbelles | 3,782 | Jon finds Sansa at the Vale after his Targaryen lineage is revealed.

And the Geese Are Headed North Again [Link] | @yekoc | 13,316 | In the dark and honest part of her that Sansa is no longer afraid of, she had thought that Jon would die, and she was no sadder than she was relieved. Seeing him now, she notes the absence of the relief and joy that marked her first glimpse of him at Castle Black. Instead, she feels a too-familiar grief: my brother is gone.

The world is still round, my compass is true; each step is a step back to you [Part1 / Part2] | @dialux | 3,655 | Endgame fic, where Jon goes south and he returns to Sansa only after the Long Night. Trust isn’t easily built after all that’s happened, but Jon and Sansa manage it well enough.

Jonsa Fic Lists:

Follow me @tacitwhisky for jonsa fic recs, meta, and fanfic. I swear I’m good at at least two of those.

#fic recs #fic rec list #gotfic #jonsa #jonsafic #jonsa fic #jon snow #sansa stark #got season 8 #got s8 #fic rec #actually jonsa

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jungshookz · 5 years

Text

the one where yoongi finds the scrapbook you didn’t have the chance to give him

☁ pairing: min yoongi x reader

☁ genre: android!yoongi universe, heartwrenching angst, sad hours!!

☁ summary: yoongi misses you more than you could ever know.

☁ wordcount: 2.4k

☁ trigger warnings: mentions of character death

☁ note: sUPER!!!!! important that you listen to this while you read the drabble to set the mood! i tried to keep the drabble short so that you’d be able to finish reading it just as the song wraps up buT once again this was a baby drabble that spun out of control so i suppose you could always play it on repeat til ya finish reading lol // this drabble honestly came out of nowhere buT it was really gloomy out today so i wrote a drabble inspired by the movie ‘up’

(gif isn’t mine!)

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

yoongi first stumbles upon the scrapbook when going through the closet to choose an outfit for you (he ended up choosing that dark blue floral dress you liked so much)

he thought it was one of your old notebooks from university but… it’s not

it was tucked underneath a whole bunch of old shoe boxes filled with extra nuts and bolts and wires

‘𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓯𝓯 𝔀𝓮 𝓭𝓲𝓭’

yoongi furrows his brows as he brushes his fingers over the foam letters that have obviously been hot glued onto the front of the faded leather journal

he opens the book to a random page and his eyes immediately start watering when he sees your handwriting

you always did have the prettiest handwriting

‘remember when-‘

yoongi slaps the book shut and shakes his head before tucking it away and getting back up onto his creaky knees

(namjoon’s starting to lose his touch) ((yoongi noticed his frail fingers trembling the other day when he was tightening a screw in his leg))

he’s not going to read the book

yoongi shuts the closet door quietly

he’s not going to even open the book

the thing is

yoongi still hasn’t touched the book but he’s thought about it every single day

he hasn’t touched it because he knows that if he opens it up and looks through it the realisation that you’re no longer with him will finally start to sink in

he knows it’s been two months since you passed

he knows it’s been two months since he last held your hand and kissed you and told you how much he loved you

he knows it’s been two months since he last woke up to the sight of you curled up next to him

he knows it’s been two months since he’s started coming back to a cold and dark apartment instead of a warm and bright one where you greet him at the door and smother him in kisses before starting to blab about your day

it’s just

weird

it’s weird not having you around

it’s weird not hearing you tinker around in the kitchen at three in the morning snacking on some animal crackers or going hAm on a tub of ice cream (even after all these years he still thinks it’s funny how you always seem to think you can get away with your midnight snacking)

it’s weird having to wash and dry the dishes all by himself because you were always the designated dryer and he’s caught himself holding out a freshly washed plate next to him on more than one occasion

he’s used to you standing right next to him and now there’s no one there

it’s weird doing all the chores alone

you were awful at folding the laundry but yoongi liked having you next to him struggling to fold up a pair of jeans

it’s weird not seeing you vacuum the living room while humming a song to yourself and bopping around all over the place

it’s weird when he cooks dinner now because he doesn’t have you peeking over his shoulder and begging him to give you a little taste of the spaghetti sauce before he plates dinner

it’s weird watching tv alone

it’s weird not turning his head and seeing you all snuggled up on your sofa chair because you fell asleep halfway through a movie of yoongi’s choice (you were never really an action movie person)

it’s weird not having to pull the covers aggressively over him halfway through the night because you were always a blanket hogger

it’s weird not making faces with you in the mirror every morning when the two of you are brushing your teeth

he hasn’t touched any of your things

your toothbrush is still sitting next to his

the right side of the bed still belongs to you

the framed picture of you and namjoon from university days still sits on your bedside counter (right next to the framed picture of you and yoongi at that pottery place you took him to for his birthday) ((the two of you are sitting across from each other and your clay-stained hands are squishing yoongi’s cheeks together while yoongi’s face is all scrunched up)) (((jungkook took the photo)))

the right side of the closet still belongs to you

all your old cardigans and sweaters and t-shirts (some borrowed aka stolen from yoongi) are still hanging there

the knitted blanket that he made for you still hangs over the arm of your chair in the living room

he hasn’t even touched the jar of soft caramel chews that sit on the coffee table (it took a loT of convincing for yoongi to let you fill an entire jar up with candy)

the apartment is far too quiet

the only thing that can be heard right now is the soft pitter patter of the rain against the windows and the occasional rumble of thunder

yoongi glances out the window for a brief second and watches as a flash of lightning lights up the sky for a moment

it’s been raining a lot as of late

you always thought that rainy days were perfect for staying inside to snuggle up together and read a book

yoongi perks up slightly and looks down the hallway to where the bedroom is

…a book.

“You were never really an arts and crafts person, so this is a surprise to me.” yoongi says aloud as he sits back down on his chair with the leather scrapbook on his lap

he smooths a hand over the front cover and raises a brow when he notices one of the foam letters coming loose “You have the crafting abilities of a child, you know that?”

he can practically feel you slapping his arm and letting out a whine at how hard he’s ripping into your crafting abilities

he gives it a quick flip through as to prepare himself for all the things he’s about to see

the book is practically bursting considering it seems like you tried to shove as much stuff in here as possible

also the pages smell like the perfume you like to wear

very sweet and flowery

you’ve taped polaroid pictures in there along with other little mementoes like movie tickets and a copy of your work ID from bangtan laboratories and even a copy of yoongi’s blueprints that you stole from namjoon and a couple dried petals from the bouquet of roses yoongi gave to you on one valentine’s day aND of course the bracelets you got from when yoongi took you to the winter carnival

there are even the photobooth pictures that you guys took at the carnival

yoongi proposed to you halfway through posing for pictures because he wanted to be able to capture the exact moment he asked you to marry him

the first picture is of you mimicking yoongi’s poker face (he always thought your poker face was shiT) ((and he was right)) with yoongi rolling his eyes next to you

the second picture is of you with your tongue sticking out and your eyes crossed as yoongi is faced away from the camera rummaging through his jacket pocket

the third picture is of you suddenly being aware of the purple velvet box yoongi has in his hand and the look of pure shock on your face aLways makes him laugh

the fourth picture is of you with watery eyes and a gaPing mouth because yoongi just asked you to marry him

and the last picture is of you practically tackling yoongi in the cramped booth

all that can be seen is one of yoongi’s legs and arms in the air because you did actually tackle him strAight out of the booth

he flips to the next page and purses his lips when he sees that there’s nothing on the page besides a hastily written note

‘flip to page 6’

yoongi can’t help but snort lightly when he sees the note you left for him on page 6

‘made you look, you gullible-ass android - you were always so easy to prank! still love you though xoxoxoxoxo’

it looks like you left a kiss mark next to the note even though it’s kind of faded now

he always liked it when you wore that wine-red lipstick

‘remember when you got mad at me for breaking my bracelet that one time? …i kind of did it again.’

you took your bracelet apart and pulled out the wires and then glued them into the shape of a heart for the sake of sticking it into your scrapbook and yoongi laughs lightly at the memory of him taking care of you all night after he picked you up from that club and you were practically stumbling all over the damn place

he remembers how you asked him to stay with you that night after he tucked you into bed

and he did

he stayed with you

you told him he was warm and he said it was because of his generator

he only said that because he was nervous!!!!

there’s a handwritten recipe for chocolate chip zucchini bread taped to this page

he smiles and dusts his fingers over the spot on the page that’s been stained with chocolate

he remembers how he insisted on making zucchini bread for your birthday instead of a traditional birthday cake because it was his way of sneaking more vegetables into your diet and aLso it has less sugar and is less fattening so!!!!

also zucchini bread is vEry good and you can’t even taste the zucchini so it’s a win-win situation

and somehow you had snuck into the kitchen while he left to go dig through the pantry for some sugar and you had sprinkled a handful of chocolate chips into the batter before quickly getting the heCk out of there

yoongi hadn’t noticed the chocolate chips until he cut a slice for you and noticed that his knife had streaks of melted chocolate and-

“You didn’t.” yoongi gawks and watches as you rip a chunk off and pop it into your mouth

you swallow your bite and hum happily “oh, but i did!”

yoongi sighs and reaches over to dot a bit of melted chocolate onto the tip of your nose “You drive me absolutely crazy, you know that?”

“i’ve been told.”

and on this page you made a little pocket and slipped the CD from your wedding into it

‘side a has our wedding video; side b has all the songs we danced to.’

yoongi recalls the night you came home with a whole list of songs that you wanted to dance to at the wedding

yoongi wasn’t programmed to be a dancing android so he was ready to download some software and become a professional waltzer in five seconds flat but you stopped him because you said you wanted to teach him how to dance

“Learning is hard.” yoongi grumbles as he tries to figure out the footwork of the waltz “Also, shouldn’t I be leading this dance?”

“i’m going to lose my toes if you lead the dance.” you snort and hit the play button on your phone “now, c’mon!”

yoongi lets out a sigh as you place your hand on his shoulder and he reaches out to grip at your waist

you take his other hand in yours and take a step forward

yoongi takes a step back at the same time

okay

yeah

this is boring

yoongi’s not doing this

“I do not want to waltz.”

you let out a gasp when yoongi suddenly spins you around in a circle before pulling you close and wrapping his arms around your waist

“Can we dance like this?” he grabs your arms before hanging them loosely around his neck

you let out a soft giggle and lean in to press your forehead against his as the two of you sway back and forth “you’re lucky i love you so much.”

“That is one of the reasons as to why you are marrying me, yes?”

“…you got me there.”

as he continues to flip through the book and look through all the memories that he shared with you, yoongi feels a lump growing in his throat and a twinge of pain blossom in his chest when he reaches the last page and sees that you’ve left a note for him

he brushes his fingers across each word

‘to my favourite human mind model adaptive super android, m1n y00ng1: thank you for giving me the best years of my life. thank you for being my best friend. thank you for the adventure of a lifetime. i love you. yours forever, y/n.’

the note is fairly short and sweet but it still manages to make yoongi let out a choked sob

thank you for giving me the best years of my life.

you were the best thing to ever happen to him

thank you for being my best friend. thank you for the adventure of a lifetime.

you made him so immensely happy and he’s enjoyed spending his life with you because you really were the love of his life

i love you.

he loves you now and he’ll love you forever.

he misses you.

he misses you so much it hurts

he misses the sound of your laugh and the feeling of your skin and the smell of your hair

he misses hearing you call for him when you need help with something and he misses having you scold him for not charging up overnight and instead playing video games with jungkook (it took more than a couple years but he eventually warmed up to the goofball)

yoongi’s vision is completely blurred from how many tears keep leaking out of his eyes

he reaches up to cover his face with his hands after a droplet drips down from his chin and bleeds into the paper

this is the first time he’s properly sobbed since your funeral

he kept it together for the most part but as soon as he got home and shut the door behind him he collapsed to his knees and began to cry his heart out

but of course

he knew that you always hated seeing him cry so he forced himself to get a hold of himself for as long as possible

but looking through this scrapbook that you made detailing your guys’ life together is just too much for him to bear

he holds the book to his chest and shuts his eyes before leaning his head back against the plush chair

a single tear rolls down the side of his face

yoongi misses you every day

but on your guys’ anniversary?

he can’t help but miss you a little more than usual.

708 notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

Catch Me If You Can (29/40)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

a/n: You all remain the best! If you celebrate any holidays this week, all the best to you! This will probably be the only chapter this week because I’ll be traveling, so I hope you enjoy!

Thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for her awesome work as my beta! ❤️

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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-/-

“Isn’t that your second hot dog of the day?”

Emma stops in the middle of her bite of what is frankly one of the most delicious hot dogs she’s ever eaten – apologies to all of the vendors at Yankee Stadium because Fenway Park might have them all beat today – to look over at Robin and roll her eyes. At least it wasn’t Will who said it. He hates hot dogs, and while that’s probably good for the health of his heart, she is fully enjoying the fact that she’s devouring this thing even if it does mean that she’ll end up on the Jumbotron at some point.

That sick joke is never going to end. Being shown eating ballpark food is going to be her legacy. Maybe one day she’ll write a book about it.

It’ll be a horrible book, and the synopsis will probably read something about her being the woman who was asked out live on television by a baseball player and said no so that people will recognize her. .

But with very good food mentioned.

A segment on TV where she tries out all of the stadium food would probably be better.

“And what of it?” she mumbles to Robin, covering her mouth with her hand as she chews. “I’m hungry because I didn’t eat breakfast, and this game is going on forever. I want to go back to the hotel and sleep, and you guys are keeping me from it.”

“I’ll try to play faster for you, lass.”

“That’s all I ask. Throw your strikes in quicker succession. Allow a few less hits.”

Silence settles back between the two of them as they watch Will hit his third foul in a row. She should probably be writing that down or doing something with it, but honestly, Emma’s only really hiding out in the dugout because there’s shade and close access to air-conditioning. She already did all of her pre-game coverage and can pretty much chill to the end despite the fact that this the final Red Sox series of the season. A part of her wishes that she was up in a booth commentating, but she knows that she’s not going to get to do that too often. She’s mostly going to be the on-field girl for the rest of this season.

There’s always next year, though. David said it went over really well, especially considering what happened with Killian during the game, and all Emma can do is take a deep breath and let things play out. She can’t control any of it.

Easier said than done.

“Did he really not tell you?” Robin asks. She nearly chokes on her food. Maybe she shouldn’t be eating this. “Killian, I mean.”

Emma quickly glances around and sees that no one is paying attention, nearly everyone leaning up over the railing to watch the game, but it doesn’t keep her from leaning back into the bench and making herself smaller so that she’s as far away from everyone as possible.

“He really didn’t tell me,” she whispers, her fingers fumbling with the chain around her neck. “About any of it.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Robin is shaking the conversation off, but she’s curious. “What? You have to tell me now.”

He sighs, and Emma kind of gets the feeling that Robin sees Killian more like a younger brother than a friend sometimes. He and Liam should really make a club or something. They’d probably stress themselves out too much. She knows that she does, and she’s only been worrying about Killian’s overall well-being for five months. They’ve been worrying about it for decades.

“It really is nothing. I just – I’ve been around Killian for a long time. I was there when he cut his dad off, when he and Milah broke up, when all of the women happened after her. And I have so many vivid memories of taking Roland over to Killian’s apartment after the accident just so we could cheer him up, you know? Killian was there for me after my wife passed, and I always wanted to be there for him. So, I guess, it’s simply a bit difficult for me to understand how he couldn’t tell any of us this.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

In all of her own hurt, Emma never actually seriously thought about Robin or Will or Ariel and how this was affecting all of them. She knew that it was, but she was so caught up in her own mind that thinking about this giant support system that Killian has wasn’t really her biggest priority.

Her biggest priority was that bag of salt and vinegar chips.

“I think he was scared.” Emma shrugs her shoulders, trying to play off the little bit of lingering hurt that she still has. “I think that it doesn’t matter how much he trusts all of us because his fear was taking over him. He’s always so worried about being a disappointment, and he probably couldn’t bear to disappoint you again.”

A loud cheer erupts around the stadium, and Emma looks at the monitor inside the dugout to see Will’s ball being caught in the outfield just as he runs over first base. Damn. Five more feet, and he could have scored.

“How is he?”

“Hmm?”

“Killian,” Robin continues. “How is he? Actually?”

“I think,” Emma sighs, stretching out her legs, “that he’d feel a lot better if he got a call from you instead of the two of us talking about him when there’s baseball to be played.”

“Oi,” Will mutters as he walks down the steps to the dugout, everyone slapping his shoulders and his ass, “I hate Boston.”

“You’re from here, Scarlet.”

“Yeah, well, playing here makes me feel like the damn Joker.”

“To be fair,” Emma sighs as she gets up from the bench so that she can stand to watch the game, “the Joker is one of the best characters, and you do have that creepy smile going on.”

“And for that, I’m telling Belle to not serve you dessert at our wedding.”

“You can’t take dessert privileges away from me.”

“I’m the groom.”

“Yeah, but I’m friends with the bride, and that’s all that matters.”

“Scarlet,” Al yells over at them, “stop trying to get Ms. Swan to give you a better exclusive and figure out how to hit a better ball.”

“Geesh,” Will moans, dropping his helmet to the ground and wiping off the sweat from his buzzed hair, “I guess his date didn’t go well yesterday.”

Emma’s head quickly snaps around, and she steps down from her position next to Eric to walk back over to Will and Robin before whispering, “Al had a date last night?”

Will’s brow arches. “You didn’t know?”

“How the hell would I know that Al had a date?”

“Because it was with a teacher from your sister-in-law’s school. His nephew apparently goes there, and they met at some event. Jasmine something.”

A lightbulb goes off in Emma’s head, a slight memory of meeting a Jasmine at David’s birthday party back in March. What a small world. She’s going to have to text Mary Margaret after this because there is no way Mary Margaret didn’t know about that.

“Huh,” Emma breathes out, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at Al as he paces back and forth looking down at his phone. “Well, maybe it did go well, and he’s just in a bad mood because you guys are getting your asses beat.”

“Go back to your reporting,” Will mutters under his breath. Robin barks out a laugh at that, and even though it’s really weird not having Killian here, a little bit of the world rights itself then having the two of them teasing her like they seem to like to do.

Even if they do lose 1- 6.

It doesn’t matter. They’re 92-50 for the season with only a handful of games left. They’ll probably officially qualify for the play-offs next week even if everyone has known for a while now. Everything from here on out is basically a bonus.

A really damn good bonus.

-/-

They end up winning the next three games in the Red Sox series in what turns out to be some pretty boring games that have Emma struggling to come up with any more interesting questions to ask everyone. It’s easy to talk to the guys that she’s close to because of Killian, but sometimes it’s a struggle to talk to the others without feeling like she’s simply being repetitive. But August and Phillip smile and charm their way through their interviews, as they always do, and the three minutes that she spends talking to Arthur after he hits a grand slam are pretty much three of the most torturous minutes of her life.

There have been no more incidents with him, at least that she knows of, but a shiver still runs down her spine when she thinks of the words he said about her back in London.

Things like that change the way a person feels in their workspace, and even though she’s done a pretty damn good job at pushing the niggling fears down, sometimes they do come back to haunt her and make her worry about what other kind of disaster is lurking around the corner and waiting for her to get comfortable before it attacks.

But , despite missing having Killian to travel with even if the hotel beds are surprisingly very comfortable with just her in it, Emma would definitely count Boston as a success.

After all, their hot dogs were really good.

-/-

David: MM and I are going to Mom’s this weekend, and I know that you have the weekend off. Why don’t you come with us and ask Killian to join?

Emma’s phone dinged with that text five hours ago, before the game against the Tigers even started, and while it initially made her heart beat a little quicker than usual, she forgot about it as she got engrossed in work and trying to help Jeff with the camera issues they were having. It was pretty much a disaster, one that took about five years off of her life, and she ended up having to work next to one of the network’s cameras that films the game for the few times they went to her.

Jeff simply muttered a few curses under his breath and then said he was glad for the day off.

But the game is over now, the Tigers winning by one run in the bottom of the ninth, and even though the game didn’t really matter, it still stings a bit. Now she’s staring at this text, and even though she and Killian have talked about going to Portland so he can meet Ruth, it was supposed to be when the season was over. It wasn’t supposed to be this soon.

She wants to go, and she wants to take Killian. But the nerves over the whole thing are definitely still there. She’s no longer mad at Killian or worried about making future-type plans (okay, well, overly worried), but having him meet Ruth in three days is a bit overwhelming.

What if she doesn’t like him?

That’s a ridiculous thought. Emma knows that it is. But the demons in her mind stay active even if their presence is a little less obvious than it used to be.

Life is weird. Seriously.

And she should really bite the bullet and text David back that she’ll talk to Killian about it.

Everything will be just fine, and a weekend away full of home cooked meals and a place with a backyard sounds really damn nice even if her bed at home will have to wait for her return a little longer.

Emma: I’ll call Killian and ask him if he’s free this weekend.

David: You’ve been away for a week, and those are the days you’re coming home. He’ll be free.

Emma: How could you possibly know that?

David: Because I am a man who knows what it’s like to be away from the woman I love for a few days.

Emma: Ew, gross. Don’t go there.

David: How do you know I was going somewhere gross?

Emma: I had a feeling.

Emma closes out her messages and swipes over on her phone so that she can call Killian, pressing the option to FaceTime him since she’s apparently sappily in love and sentimental and wants to see that handsome face of his.

It’s a very handsome face. Seriously. She’s very happy with her life choices right now.

Killian answers the call, and when he comes into view, she can see that handsome face as well as the faces of approximately thirty stuffed animals surrounding him in what can only be described as a weird pop music video.

“Hello, my love,” Killian greets with an absolutely gigantic smile that has the lines around his eyes crinkling. Her heart is definitely doing that thing where it stutters whenever he calls her by that particular endearment.

“Hey.” Emma smiles into the phone and ignores how lopsided her bun looks in her little picture in the corner. “Who are all of your friends?”

“Ah, well, they all have names, but I’m remiss to say that I can’t actually remember them all right now. But I’ve been sequestered into Addy and Lucy’s playroom.”

“And where are they?”

“Elsa just came and got them for dinner. I meant to go join them, but then you called.”

“That seems like a pretty flimsy excuse. I think you just wanted to hang out with all of the stuffed animals.”

“You’ve bested me there, Swan.” He smiles again, and instead of her heart doing that stuttering thing, it aches a little bit. That’s ridiculous. She shouldn’t actually miss him like that. It’s only been a few days even if it feels so much longer since they barely got anytime to be back together before she was hopping on a plane to Boston. “What are you up to tonight?”

Emma shrugs her shoulders. “You’re looking at it. I think I might do a face mask because my skin feels gross. I also might paint my nails. Real exciting stuff over here.”

“I might help with Addy’s spelling homework, so it’s even more exciting over here.”

She laughs and shakes her head a bit before getting up from the bed and taking her phone with her to the bathroom. She might as well wash her face while she’s thinking about it instead of inevitably forgetting whenever it’s time to go to bed. Emma props her phone up against the vanity so that Killian has a particularly nice view of the underside of her chin and starts her routine by wiping of the makeup from today. Most of it has already sweated itself off, but the remaining is all of the product that likes to be stubborn about coming off. Killian tells her about his day, which pretty much consisted of physical therapy and picking the girls up from school before taking them to Liam and Elsa’s townhome and being smothered in stuffed animals.

As awful as it is for Killian to have to sit on the sidelines, he looks so damn happy just to be able to spend more time with his family. She knows that he sees them a lot, much more than most people do, but he’s always got some place to go or somewhere to be during this time of the year that the visits usually aren’t long. And Emma swears that he gets a few months of his life back every time Killian gets to spend time with Addy or Lucy.

It’s like magic.

That’s kind of how she feels when she gets to spend time with her family too.

Emma opens up the jar of her face mask and dips her finger insider before spreading the green clay over her chin.

“I didn’t know my girlfriend was secretly Shrek.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “I am not dignifying that with a response.”

“You look positively charming, love. I think the green is a very good color on you. Brings out your eyes.”

Emma scoffs and ignores the waggle of Killian’s eyebrows while she rubs the mask in the space between her own brows. “So, if you stop being an asshole for a second, I have something I wanted to ask you.”

“Is it how I stay devilishly handsome all the time?”

“No, I was saving that for our next conversation.”

“Ah, ah, gotcha,” he sighs, shifting against the stuffed animals until he’s sitting up and the hair that had been pushed behind him is falling in front of his face. “Go on then, Swan.”

Emma brings her bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it with a pop. “How do you feel about going to Portland this weekend with David, Mary Margaret, and Leo?”

“Are you not coming?”

“I was implied in that list.”

“Well, I don’t know, love. If it was just Dave, Mary Margaret, and Leo, I would of course go to spend some time with Ruth. Now that I know that you’re going to be there – ”

“Shut up. You’re lucky that you’re hundreds of miles away. I can’t slap you from all the way over here.”

“Kinky.”

Killian barks out a laugh at his own joke, his head thrown back with the joy of it all, and all Emma can do is shake her head at him. He’s in rare form tonight with his jokes and teasing and that ever-present smile on his face.

Well, no. He’s not in rare form. This is how he always is, but it’s been awhile since she’s seen him be carefree enough to actually feel this good.

It’s a beautiful sight.

“I will make it worth your while if you come.”

The downright dirty smirk that graces Killian’s face after she utters those words makes a shiver run down her spine and regret settle in her stomach for all of the things she just set him up for.

“Worth my while, then?” Killian prods, raising that brow a little further. “What does that entail, exactly? Are you going to come home early and immediately fall into bed to me? Or do you have a nice set of lingerie in that suitcase of yours that we’re about to put into good use despite the fact that you have a green face right now?” Killian gasps, something overdramatic and self-indulgent, and Emma can barely keep herself from laughing even if the tone of his voice is something close to sinful. “Are you going to seduce me in your childhood bedroom, Swan? Is that it? Is that what will make it worth my while?”

“I mean, I was kind of thinking we’d book a flight so we don’t have to spend seven hours cramped in a car together with the Nolans. They play very intense road trip games. Singing is involved.”

His face only falls a little bit. “Damn, okay. Yeah, I’m all for flying there, but I could also drive us. It wouldn’t be a big deal.”

“I’m pretty sure elevating your shoulder for that long is not what you’re supposed to be doing.”

“You make a good point.”

“I tend to.” There’s a knock at Emma’s hotel room door, and she tenses for a second before taking a step to the side and pressing up on her toes to look out the keyhole to find Ariel standing there in a pair of white pajamas with little red bows on them. Emma opens the door, forgetting about her face and Killian for a second. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“A few of us are going to eat pizza in mine and Eric’s room, and I was trying to invite you but I couldn’t get you to answer your phone.”

“Oh,” Emma sighs, looking back into the bathroom to the direction of her phone. “Sorry about that. I was talking to Killian, and I – ”

Ariel’s shoulders perkperk s up, and she steps inside the room without asking, which Emma has learned is pretty par for the course when it comes to Ariel. Emma closes the door behind her and walks into the bathroom to grab her phone, where Killian is still waiting in the screen, and she hands the phone over to Ariel because she knows that’s what she wanted anyways.

Plus, her face mask is starting to crack, and she’s got to get this gunk off of her. The water drowns out the sound of the conversation happening in the bedroom, but as soon as she turns it off, she can hear Killian talking.

“No, A,” Killian sighs, “I am not overexerting myself. Yes, I have talked to Rob this week. No, I didn’t watch last night’s game. You know you can just text me, right? You didn’t have to steal Emma’s phone.”

“I didn’t steal her phone. She handed it to me.”

“You basically stole it.”

“I did not.”

Emma laughs under her breath before walking into the bedroom. Those two are ridiculous. Their friendship makes no sense, but Emma knows they wouldn’t survive without each other.

Seriously.

“Babe, Ariel did not steal my phone. You’re just complaining because I gave you away to her without warning.”

“I am not,” he scoffs, and when she can finally see his face again, the tips of his ears are noticeably red. “Where’d your green face go?”

“Washed it off.” Emma settles down on the bed next to Ariel who scoots over for her. “So, what is this I hear about you talking to Robin? Did you guys finally hash out all of your emotional issues about your penchant for keeping secrets?”

“I still can’t believe he did that,” Ariel tells her, an exasperated look on her face.

“I would say welcome to the club, but you’re already an established member.”

“I feel like I could be co-chair or vice president or something.”

“You might be able to be president.”

“No, you or someone from his family gets that role, I think.”

“Really, because – ”

“The two of you are never allowed to go anywhere without me ever again,” Killian interrupts, and they both turn from each other back down to the phone screen.

“It’s funny you say that because I have planned a vacation with all of the women in your life, and all we’re going to do is plot ways to make you miserable.”

“You are not funny, A.”

“I think you’re hysterical,” Emma combats, winking at Killian. “But seriously. You talked to Robin? Did you tell him the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ spiel?”

“Yes, love, I used the cliché breakup line to explain to Robin that it had nothing to do with my trust in him and everything to do with me being a cowardly asshole.”

“And he accepted it?”

“Yep,” he murmurs. “He accepted it, and we’re all sunshine and roses now. Seriously. We probably talked for an hour or two this morning.”

“Good,” Emma breathes out, a smile on her face. She’s so relieved that they talked. She’s kind of been far too worried about it since she and Robin talked about it in the dugout a few days ago. “I’m going to text you later, okay? I’m going to go stuff my face with pizza with everybody.”

“Yeah, Swan, that sounds nice. Have fun. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Bye, Ariel,” Killian says, waving his hand. “Please don’t plot my death while you guys eat pizza.”

“I make no promises.”

The phone disconnects, and Emma places it on the bed next to her before scooting away from Ariel to give her some space since their bodies were pretty much aligned during that conversation.

“He’s happy today.”

“Hmm?” Emma asks, not really hearing Ariel’s words, her mind still replaying all of the craziness of her conversation with Killian.

“Killian,” Ariel says, smiling at Emma. “He’s happy. Like, he’s got that fresh glow of a man in love. It’s just nice to see is all. I like that you make him happy.”

“Oh no,” Emma protests with a shake of her head. She gets up from the bed, too flustered to stay still, and reaches down into her suitcase for her moisturizer simply to have something to do with her hands. “I don’t – that’s not on me. That’s on Killian and how he’s got a lot of really good people around him. I know I wasn’t around for the last lay-off, but I know it was rough. I think he’s in a better headspace now, even if it did have a rough start.”

Emma dips her finger into the container and swipes the cream across her forehead while she tries to regulate her breathing. She knows where this conversation is going. Ariel is very much like Mary Margaret in all of her love and hope for good in the world, and she likes to talk about these things like big emotional moments aren’t a difficult thing to talk about.

“You’re one of those people he’s got around him, though,” Ariel continues, and Emma keeps rubbing her hands in circles across her face. “Killian is one of my best friends in the world. I know him almost as well as I know my own husband, and I know that he’s so much happier now because of you. That’s a good thing.”

“I know. I’m just – ”

“Scared?” Ariel gets up from the bed and walks over to Emma so that Emma can see her face and see the hopeful smile that resides there. “Does it make you feel better that I’m still scared?”

“No,” Emma laughs, something that settles her stomach a bit. “How would that make me feel better? That sounds like a nightmare. You’ve been married for half a decade.”

“Love is always scary. You never know what’s going to happen when you wake up in the morning. Like, ever. I don’t know if Eric and I are going to have a day where it’s like we’re on our honeymoon again or a day where the sound of him chewing is going to get on my nerves. But I love him, and I love getting to have him be by my side every day. He’s not the sole reason I’m happy, but he’s a big part of it. I think it’s the same with you and Killian. That’s a good thing.”

“Have you ordered a really nasty pizza? Is that why you’re trying to butter me up?”

Ariel laughs and walks toward Emma but seems to step back from giving her a hug. “No, I’m trying to butter you up because I hear you can do all kinds of braids, and I’ve never quite been able to figure out the Dutch braid.”

“Luckily for you, I am an expert in that.”

“Good. Now, come on. We’ve got to go before the boys eat all of the pizza.”

“Who all is in there?”

“Just Will, Robin, and Eric.”

“Well, shit,” Emma laughs as she grabs her phone and her hotel key. “You’re right. They are going to eat it all before we get there.”

Emma follows Ariel out into the hall and follows her down the hallway to the stairwell so they can walk up the two flights of stairs to everyone else’s floor. Before they even enter the room, Emma can hear the three of them laughing. Sure enough, once the door is open, they’re each spread out across the room – Will on the couch, Eric on the bed, and Robin sitting in the desk chair – and pizza boxes litter the room along with beer bottles. Emma has been around professional athletes for most of her adult life, and she’s never seen a group of them so consistently break their nutrition plan like this team.

Not that it bothers her. Though, tomorrow she is eating a hell of a lot of fruit and vegetables to make up for it.

She says that a lot. It usually works.

“Emma,” Will yells as she walks into the room. He holds up his half-eaten slice as a greeting. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. I was almost afraid I was going to forget what you looked like.”

“Am I still as beautiful as you remember?”

“Eh, you’re looking a little rough right now.”

“Asshole,” Emma laughs, walking toward the desk and opening a box to grab a piece of pizza. “What about you, Robin?”

He points to himself. “Are you asking if I’m still as beautiful as you remember since I saw you last? Because I personally think I’ve become more attractive.”

Emma snorts, actually snorts, and she doesn’t bother trying to cover it up before plopping herself down on the bed next to Ariel and Eric, squishing herself down on the mattress. It’s not the best pizza in the world, not even close, but the company is top notch and not something Emma would like to ever trade for anything.

In the past, she’s never gained friends from a relationship. Neal had all kinds of people in his life, but they were always temporary. She’d meet them once, ask about them two weeks later, and then Neal would claim to not know who she was talking about. He was always onto the next thing and the next group of people who could help him get what he wanted. Walsh had friends, a group of people he’d met through some kind of club for antique furniture, but they were all obnoxious and unfriendly. She didn’t want to be friends with them, and they certainly didn’t want to be friends with her.

And maybe it has helped Emma now that she already knew most of the people in Killian’s life because of her work, but they’re all so welcoming and supportive that she couldn’t imagine them not getting along.

Usually it helps that Killian is around, but this past week, it’s been kind of nice to get to talk to all of them simply because they want to talk to her. For someone who isn’t used to that, Emma thinks that it could become a familiar feeling.

She wants it to.

Emma pulls out her phone later that night and takes a video of everyone talking and laughing. Will is telling some insane story about a caterer who they interviewed for the wedding who wanted to serve all raw food, including meat, and it’s caused an uproar in the conversation. She sends the video to Killian, making sure that the last frame is her smiling at him.

Emma: Wish you were here.

Killian texts her back five minutes later. It’s a picture of him in Addy’s bed, his legs hanging over the end, with both Addy and Lucy draped over him asleep.

Killian: Same here. I don’t think I’ll be moving for the rest of the night. They’re not quite as good of a bedfellow as you.

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

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elistariel · 4 years

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I'm bored off my ass, so here's what going on in my life as of Sunday, September 27, 2020 at 11:44 pm.

- Still working from "home." (Grandparents' house, but close enough 🤷🏻‍♀️).

- work finally picked back up, I had been working one to two days (3-6 hours) a week due to cancellations and whatever else. I managed to get 20 hours this week.

- Herman, my cat has been less than helpful. Nothing like being tethered to your laptop by your headset and your cat decides to start clawing the furniture and you cannot reach him. I'm pretty sure they call monitors that still have to listen to us are getting a great kick of me yelling at my cat between phone calls. "Stop licking the floor you weirdo!" must be a favorite by now. I'm still waiting for him to loudly MEOW right into the microphone as I'm doing a survey.

- one of my great aunts (in her 90s) passed away. She had been declining for a while for a while. Not to be Debbie Downer, but her husband and one of her sisters don't seem far behind. (Maybe a few years at best 🤷🏻‍♀️). It's weird, in a a way, to see people you saw as the grown-ups, those who knew how to handle everything and knew what was what - get OLD. It puts a certain perspective on where you and those closest to you are in life. One day, everyone you looked up to, everyone you looked to for advice, will be gone. (Not literally, there will technically be experts the same age and younger, but hopefully you get my meaning there).

- We had been cleaning out my great grandma's house. (She's still around, just old, nearly blind, dementia and in facility.) Still have a metric fuckton to go through. So. Many. Photos and cards and clothes and pens and buttons and porn and scarves and coat hangers and obituaries and notes in phone books from 1997...

- No, you didn't need to do the double take on that list. I said porn. Nothing like finding your great grandpa's VHS porn stash. I loved how he had his porn in the living room TV cabinet, but had the box of home movies (birthdays, beach trips and Christmas under the bed.) My Pa was a WWII vet who died in 2005.

- Been trying to finally organize Christmas photos from at least 1995 on up into albums. I have earlier, but with the amount of photos I have and the types of photo albums I have the 1995 ones were just a good place to start.

- Wasn't exactly sure what year some of the Christmas photos were taken, so I figured out some tricks to use when trying to date photos. Just so we are clear, this is for actual paper photos. I mean I guess this could work for digital photos too, but with this I was working with the actual paper photos like from the 35mm film that we used to use way back in the day. Also I have a large extended family.

1.) Babies. My older cousins had their babies between 1996 and 2003. I was looking to see which of my younger cousins were in the photos. One baby? 1996 or 1997. Two babies? 1998, 1999 or 2000, etc. 2.) Outfits / Pick one person, and pull out all of the photos of that one person in that particular outfit. Then look at a photo where they are in a group and pick another person, repeat. Soon you'll have a stack from that particular day. 3.) Presents can help date a photo. You aren't going to get the 1999 Christmas Barbie in 1997.

- Been binge watching Haven on Tubi TV. I watched it on Syfy when it originally came on back in 2010, but I didn't really keep up with it back then and I wasn't sure what was going on with the show entirely and I'm pretty sure I never finished it. While I moved into the house I'm in now in 2008, 2010 feels so long ago that it feels like I should have watched the show when I was in my last place I lived in (2006-2008).

- that last bit where it feels like it should have been longer ago than it was, is probably due to some like inadvertent furniture arranging. I've gotten newer couches over the years and I've also kind of moved from my living room to my like office area over the years. Basically, I sort of inherited a large iMac desktop and the only place it would go is in my living room or my old TV was. Then I got rid of cable and just started using my Roku. Because I had the Roku I was using it in my office, as that's where my flat screen TV was now. In a way (slightly), it's almost like I "moved", so it just feels different now than back in 2010? Does that make a lick of sense, I know what I mean, but I'm not sure how to word it exactly. Lol

- I honestly, can barely remember what it was like having to choose what I watch based on what's currently on TV, at this very moment. Bless streaming TV.

- This is random, but I don't even remember what month I started binge watching Time Trax to keep me entertained during the pandemic, but it feels so, SO long ago.

- A cousin had her third son this past Thursday. Had no clue she was expecting. Neither did anyone else at my great aunt's funeral. FYI she and baby did not come. We found out from her aunt. Many, many people did not come, which of course is understandable.

- Shit. I still need to write someone a thank you card for the birthday gift they actually took time to make me. My birthday was in August. 🤦🏻‍♀️

- Been cutting up really old gel pens and using them to make inkblot art. When I say old, I mean like from 2001 to 2003ish. Using a embroidery? needle to get the ink out and smear on the paper. if you're wondering why I've kept gel pens, from nearly 20 years that don't work ... Because hoarder. Actually I've just had them so long and that I've just gotten used to them being around and normally don't even think about them.

- Can masks still be a thing after the pandemic? I don't mean a required thing, but like we should be able to wear masks in public if we have the flu, just don't feel like doing makeup or whatever. I want to be able to voluntarily wear a mask and not get flack for it. Make it like a fashion accessory. Just so we're clear, this is coming from a person who wears glasses and can't see shit with her mask on.

-claimed (won for 75¢) a couch slipcover on Geek. I have absolutely no idea how to properly put it on the couch and my grandparents house, but my cat has claimed The wanted fabric as a bed. So, I'm calling it a win. I also claimed a pet bed through the limited quantity deal, I didn't think my cat would pay any attention to it, but he actually loves it. Epic win. Oh, and I b also claimed a cat tree. I did have to leave the little cat house off of the top of it as it was WAAAAAY too small for my cat.

#life update #thought dump #whats going on #i think this covers it

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whiskynottea · 5 years

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Death Dreams

1. Help me, 2. Wide Awake, 3. Not Yet, 4. Five Years, 5. Angel-Forest-Train, 6. You want to hear more, 7. Six Months, 8. Guilt, 9. Distorted thoughts 10. A Bad Day 11. Marks and Blemishes

AO3

This is the last chapter of Death Dreams. This story started as a one-shot, but your love made it a multi-chapter and I want to thank you for this. Thank you for reading, for your comments and reblogs, for your anons and dms. This story is special to me, and I hope I did it justice.

Roots and Dandelions

Jamie opened his eyes, welcoming the soft daylight that filled the room in a languid pace, and he revelled in the soft strokes of sunlight colouring Claire’s ivory skin a few inches away. He moved closer and buried his head below the mass of her curls, nuzzling the nape of her neck. She was smooth and soft under his lips. He kissed her shoulder, then breathed her in, the vanilla and lemon of her scent curling his lips up until a wide smile spread on his face.

He was still surprised to find feelings rushing out of him.

Joy, happiness. To smile without an effort, just because elation wells up inside you and you need to let it out, to free it to the skies. As if emotions were never yours; they belonged to the world and you had been a part of it, needed as much as a dandelion scattering its seeds in the air, or a tree taking root deep in the earth.

Jamie left Claire nestled between the quilts, sleeping peacefully in their bedroom. For so many months, she used to wake up in an instant when she felt him move out of the bed -- but not anymore. She was calm now, her brow free of the deep wrinkles his behavior used to carve between her eyebrows. Jamie stopped on his way to the kitchen and turned his head back to look at her, to reassure himself she wasn’t a faerie that would suddenly disappear.

No. Faeries don’t have scars or wrinkles of pain. They don’t go to battle, they don’t fight. They don’t frantically dig the earth with their bare hands to bring lost people back into the light. But Claire had done this. She had kept pushing her fingers into the soil, scraping and scooping up dirt, even when it was futile and quicksand had buried her efforts, covering her progress under a smooth surface. She had kept quarrying until the skin on her knuckles broke and blood ran, red and menacing against the paling white of her hands. She had continued, until the strain was carved on her forehead, lines that would never disappear. But she had reached deep enough for him to hear her heart beating for both of them. A beautiful, clear sound. The signal to bring him back, the only sound that reached him underground, in the vast darkness he had inhabited. She had shown him the way, and he had found her through the pain and despair. He found the light, and she had ended up with scars enough for a lifetime.

Jamie filled the kettle with water and opened the cabinet, searching for tea. A memory came, uninvited, and he smiled at the reminiscence of teasing Claire about tea when she had moved into his apartment, their first home.

English tea? Were they out of Scottish tea, Sassenach? Or are ye trying to invade my pure Scottish home wi’ yer subtle yet despicable tea schemes?

She had looked at him wide-eyed like a doe at first, but a moment later she’d lifted an eyebrow, ready for a retort.

The kettle went silent and Jamie blinked as he looked around, surprised not to find Claire’s whisky eyes in front of him in their old, tiny kitchen, crammed with pans and pots. He steeped his tea and started fixing the appliances on the counter until they were set in order. He cleaned the toaster, first removing the crumb tray and then turning it upside down over the sink, all the while muttering to himself how Claire always forgot to do it.

Another normalcy that hit him for its novelty. Since the veil of depression had been removed, things were bothering him again. It had been different all those previous months; when he was numb, everything seemed grey, mundane. His house could very well be on fire and he wouldn’t really care. But now, he was getting upset or frustrated more often than he would have expected. Claire had forgotten to do the laundry or had bought the wrong oat cookie brand. His sister had cancelled their trip to Glasgow again. His laptop charger had broken. Little things that suddenly mattered.

Sometimes not caring seemed the easy way -- a path he knew how to find, a well-worn shirt that had his shape and felt soft against his skin. He was terribly unused to things itching at him. Feeling them.

It wasn’t bliss that returned to him -- it was life. And life was never just the one thing.

Jamie took his perfectly brewed cup of tea and walked back to the living room. After a moment’s hesitancy, he stood by the window as he’d seen Claire do countless times, absentmindedly looking at the world outside the days he had crawled to hide inside himself. Back then, all he had wanted was to disappear. Now he stood tall and proud in front of the wide panel, drawing deep breaths of black tea, preparing himself for the day.

He had finished his manuscript. He had taunted himself for almost two months, reading and rereading, changing words and deleting sentences only to replace them with almost identical ones a few hours later. Today was the day he would send it to his editor. With a simple email, his words would fly away, seeds of a dandelion searching for soil, to take root in a stranger’s heart.

It had been difficult to let it go. Even more difficult than writing the story. A story he had written for himself, and he’d accepted that a writer is sometimes entitled to do just that. Write an uncommon story that talks to his soul.

Not that all stories are the same. Even popular stories can be vastly different from each other. Some are about the love of fallen princesses and smart boys flashing dashing smiles; others about exiled soldiers who had once been powerful. There are stories about gallant heroes and their adventures towards triumph and those about friendships lasting a lifetime, stronger than evil and disaster. All of them, stories that make you hold your breath, turn the pages to reach the final scene, always striking, moving, perfect.

But then, there are these other stories, the ones with protagonists who would never make it in history books, not strong or bold or smart enough to save the world. Maybe a little broken, maybe a little unlucky, maybe more human than they ought to be. The stories of those who lived, and struggled, and won, and lost, and didn’t change anything at the end. But they had been there. They had laughed, and cried, and made other people do so, and they had forced their way forward.

A story like his, still worthy to be told.

Jamie closed his eyes, feeling the sun warm against his face. He would wait for Claire to wake up before sending the email. And then they might go for a walk in the park, and buy a birthday present for wee Jamie. It was time to get him a new bike.

He sipped his tea, making plans, and in the quietness of the room, he heard his heart beat inside his chest. Alive. In the crisp morning, with the sun victorious against the clouds in the sky, he heard it again. And he memorized that sound, and the feeling of completeness, because he knew that other mornings would come, with mist and rain, dark and ominous.

That was not the end -- there was no end.

He could still feel depression lurking in the shadows behind him, biding its time. Waiting, to breathe in his air. But he had kept his breath safe, in the words he wrote, in the gasping laughter of his beloved ones. And he knew how to use it, to grow roots that would keep him standing.

Like Claire’s wee cactus. It had lost its vivacity when she’d forgotten to water it for months. Dark and shrinking, it had been reduced to something less. But then, when Claire had realized it, she hadn’t admitted defeat. She had started watering it again, and one day a new branching stem sprang -- green, fat and radiant. Persisting. And it grew its own roots, slowly extending them day by day seeking for soil, until the thin roots grabbed it tightly, determined to live.

He knew now, that he had such branches inside him. Parts of him that would always seek life. That would grip it, and breath it, and stand whole again.

He found comfort in the reassurance of abiding life. And he felt strong, now that he could look darkness in the eye and recognize it. He knew its empty embrace all too well. And he had vowed to remember.

He wouldn’t falter. He wouldn’t give in.

‘Death dreams I don’t forget,

It’s been a while since I dreamed this

Even now when I sleep I tread with care…’

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

A/N: This story was written for all those who struggled with depression and lost the battle, and for the people who love and miss them. And for those who still fight and win the darkness, sometimes barely and sometimes triumphantly, and for their loved ones, who fight alongside with them. Much love to you all.

#death dreams #roots and dandelions #depression AU #jamie x claire #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic

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blankdblank · 5 years

Text

Anaticula Pt 19

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 - Pt 13 - Pt 14 - Pt 15 - Pt 16 - Pt 17 - Pt 18 -

Passing the shops in the airport you eyed each magazine along the way in a small figurine shop revealed to be a magical one. On display you eyed the front of the Raven’s Writing Desk Paper you eyed the title ‘From the Mouth of a Babe’. Below that was a picture of you in a semi peaceful expression from earlier in the day. Over a four page spread with detailed quotes on all you had said and done before the fifth page prattling on about your appearance comparing you to your mother who was in the few years after graduating a famous Wizarding performer and model for a few choice magazines.

A pen was flashed in your view and your eyes raised to the shop keep with a wide grin asking, “Could you sign this please?”

Awkwardly you nodded forcing a grin as Regulus snapped a picture with your camera of the first autograph you had ever given you passed over to him only to have a copy of each paper and magazine covering your words handed to you by his wife, who offered you a copy of each for free. Along with a picture Regulus freely offered. Curiously Muggles eyed the interaction wondering just who you were, with a few asking for autographs in return on your path to the gate.

One by one once you boarded the flight you read through all that had been printed. Most commenting on the rights topic with the growing number of them wondering just what profession you would have, each alluding to some mystery as to where your father was, a well known supporter of lycans still counted as missing by your Ministry adding more mystery to your initially tragic tale.

By the time your flight had landed word had crossed the pond and you were met with a flurry of papers and magazines being put in your way with more and more silent passers by with subtle grateful expressions for what you had said.

Home again instantly you rushed to your father’s arms in his place lounged across his usual chaise lounge, crashing into his chest feeling his arms ease around your back after hovering his book and mug away. Tightly he folded around you as your hair darkened and your sniffling began, Remus arrived not long after to join in your snuggling pile through the group of men all praising your brave words.

Out of the pile you sat up on your father’s lap between the men asking after drying your cheeks, “Are they going to expel me?”

Sirius couldn’t help but snort as Remus laughed out loud. Waving his hand to draw a copy of the Daily Prophet over to find a quote from Dumbledore himself he read aloud. “This has been quite an act of such admirable quality, that to deny an education to such a bold determined young woman in the defense of the silent masses forced into hiding and subjugation would be a harsher crime than what was committed and punishment dealt for such sobering words spoken.”

Sirius, “Dumbledore is not going to expel you. Fighting Riddle, defending Basilisks, Dragons, Unicorns, Chimeras and Werewolves. Trust me Pumpkin, it is far more terrifying a thought to leave you to your own defenses than to train you your final four years.”

Remus, “Besides, if he trusted a Werewolf on campus before this new potion of yours a Werewolf supporter is no hassle at all.” He said with a chuckle, “New batch, no odd tingling after the seventh dose. Fairly soon, no side effects. I will miss the pineapple though.”

Regulus chuckled, “No rules saying you can’t still have your juice in the morning.”

Sirius chuckled and kissed your forehead, “You should have heard the twins and Percy, burst into a frenzy, scoured for all the cauldrons we had, with all the orders you got they had to send out a weeks doses each and are currently brewing more. With how many papers are going mad over you even Snape wanted to stay the night to help out all he could. Shouldn’t take long.” Locking his eyes on yours his grin doubled proudly, “You are an immovable force, and I will say, I couldn’t be prouder, fully knowing you will continue to astonish and befuddle myself the world. Mum would be proud, so proud.”

Remus, “Not of the babe comments.” You giggled as he said, “She would be up in arms over that.”

Regulus mimicked her voice poorly, “Not my Baby! Nobody dares objectify my Baby!” He chuckled as the men all did at your weak giggle, “She would be livid. You’re only 14.”

Their heads turned hearing a muffled wave of chatter making them chuckle and help you to your feet asking, “Why don’t we see if we can check on the boys, hmm?”

You nodded and giggled, “We can share all about the trip.”

Through the halls you walked until you found your home office where Snape, the twins and Percy were all tending to the latest batch of potions ensuring they were turning the proper shades. All turning to greet you with a tight hug before asking all about your trip, all of them showing you their progress on the well documented orders assigned to charmed numbers to keep the deliveries straight. All that was left to do was wait freeing you to head to the kitchen for a late dinner before going upstairs to collapse onto your bed. Upon which Draco and Neville raced in to greet you as early as they could manage while breakfast was being prepared. On your back you caught Draco’s eyes when you blinked your sleep away as he finished sharing his portion of their latest joint project in the greenhouses. “We left the actual painting to you since Opal said the clay needed to breathe.”

“Hmm.” Sitting up in the bed you looked between them, “What color were you wanting?”

Neville, “Well the Whisptail prefers orange for its burrowing hole. We think she’s laid eggs though, by the noises she’s making, that’s how the vipers sounded making their nests.”

“Ooh, goody. I will have to check that.”

Distantly you heard Molly call out, “Breakfast!”

Furrowing your brows you mumbled, “Guess Molly’s come by early.”

Draco chuckled, “Got here yesterday. Something about Arthur being called into work, all the Aurors have, no doubt Dad has too along with Remus, Sirius and Regulus. Some big talks of how Werewolves are to be treated ‘in house’ I believe they said. Heard that new potion of yours and a copy of your card was put in the papers. So, tons of new publicity.”

You chuckled brushing your covers down exposing your heavily wrinkled flannel pants, crawling to the edge of the bed you followed the boys to the door brushing your baggy shirt down over your middle. The early chill on the marble floors reminded you to add your moccasin slippers for the trot down to the long table packed with all the Weasleys. Neville and Draco plopped around you with Ginny claiming the seat across from you still peering up at her mother through the table being set asking, “When can we go shopping Mummy?”

Molly chuckled, “Not today, soon though. Perhaps the middle of the month nearer to your birthday. Let this commotion calm a bit first so we won’t be trampled in our shopping.”

Ginny sighed resting her chin on her crossed arms on the table making you say, “Sorry Ginny.”

She looked at you raising her head, “It’s not your fault. Just eager to try out my new wand.”

You chuckled and Molly raised a brow, “Now you know no using that wand-,”

Ginny nodded, “Not until I get to school. I know. But I can get tips on proper waving techniques.”

Molly chuckled and rolled her eyes floating the food out to the table, making her way around it to you to claim a hug of her own, “Well done deary. Don’t you go apologizing. You have done nothing wrong. About time something is done.”

Each day the news continued to stir until the latest of the news of the Werewolf dress code was dropped and there was talk of their Auror escorts to the shops were being lessened to one per group until the confidence in the new potion and bracelets were accepted publicly. A small win and step towards a better future but a win none the less.

And every day the crowds seemed to dim a bit while the headlines shifted to more pressing matters than you slowly but subtly freeing you back to your privacy. Two weeks had come to a close and with a sigh at the early hour an odd dream of what you assumed to be the Dursley home you groaned and showered early and went down to start on breakfast. Beating Molly into the cramped kitchen of the Hollow to aid her in prepping everything for the early meal to fuel your day, through which Arthur got a notice to head in early. Today was the day you were going to head to Diagon Alley to shop for all your supplies, this list being far more expensive than any other at the Defense Against the Dark Arts required books.

Furrowing your brows you eyed the list asking, “Why in hell would we need these books?”

Fred chuckled, “Looks like the new teacher is quite the fan of Lockhart.”

George chuckled, “Too bad Charlie can’t see this. He’d be livid.”

Clearing up your plates you heard Molly ask, “Off to the Dursley’s first dear?”

You nodded, “Ya. Though they’re going to have company.”

Privet drive, nice and orderly where proper people are meant to live. This is what Mr and Mrs Mason were being fooled into believing upon first inspection. Lovely and presentable the Dursleys all filled their allotted roles until a doorbell pursed Petunia’s lips and drew a weak chuckle from her as she stood, “Pardon me. I wonder who that could be.” Gracefully she made her way around the room with a pleased grin that dropped into a scowl at the door parting her and the great disturber of her perfect evening. Easing the door open her lips parted seeing you with a flashing grin in your mother’s blue star coated sleeveless dress over thighs and tall black booties making you her height in her short heels. Under your tipped back fedora your curls pooled out over your chest in a tolerable shade of maroon curls.

Without a word from her you inched closer saying, “I understand you have guests, just two minutes please.” Sighing softly she inched closer as you continued lowly, “Now, there’s been a bit of an outbreak,” her brow inched up, “There’s a creature loose, picture a rhino but larger with tentacles on its face,” parting her lips for a moment, “Well they’re normally very docile and there’s a great deal of people searching for it however, I brought you this.” The small crystal apple rested in your palm.

“An apple?”

“Well, I’m not sure if you know but when Lily died there was a charm put on your house,” she drew in a sharp breath, “It makes sure other’s like us can’t find your home until Harry is 17, now, about the creature, they are docile but a location undiscoverable would make a lovely nest, hence the apple, it will keep any creatures away as well.”

“We have never had any creatures-,”

At your grin her voice cut off, “Harry told me about that bat of yours few years back, the shimmering green one. Plus, I can leave you to your dinner and fetch my cat.”

“Cat?” your eyes flinched up to Harry’s room and her head turned back to the sitting room where she heard Vernon call out, “My Dear, who is it?”

In your peek upstairs you caught Harry peering around the corner who darted back towards his room quietly at your mouthing to pack before she glanced at you in your whisper, “Right in and out again, no trouble, I swear.”

Exhaling sharply she replied, “Fix your eyes.”

You nodded and blinked them to a solid green making her flinch when she looked back seeing her baby sister in her young teens before her again as she ushered you inside and closed the door quietly. Drawing her grin up again she said, “Jaqi is here Dear.”

Around the corner she led you and you grinned at the guests with a brief wave before looking to Vernon and Dudley saying, “Uncle Vernon, Dudley, Sorry to intrude, won’t be a moment. I just wanted to thank you for looking after my Harry.”

Mr Mason looked to Vernon as Petunia moved back to her seat asking, “Harry?”

You replied for Vernon, “My cat.” Freeing a calming breath from Vernon, “See I had to take a trip to the states and usually my Dad watches him, however there’s been a crazy, crazy few weeks at his job so he couldn’t watch him.” Petunia’s face flinched with curiosity at hearing about what she was missing in your life between your letters.

Dudley eyed the apple in your hands as Mrs Mason did asking, “What took you to the states? You do not seem old enough to work, my Dear.”

You giggled drawing up her brow as you replied, “No, I’m only 14. However, my Uncle, I help him with his snake hunting, mainly rare breeds for anti-venoms and such. Well there was a mishap with this one out in this big zoo. It really is a fascinating breed, spits a sort of acidic venom, huge fiasco since it resembles a certain variation of African Vipers, she was pregnant and nesting so obviously less than friendly so we had to go and help with the transfer.”

Mrs Mason, “You?”

You nodded widening your grin, “I might be young but I have a knack with deadly creatures. Just have to know how to calm them.” You looked to Vernon, “I really didn’t mean to intrude. I did bring you this.” You said passing the apple over he inspected and thanked you for on his way to set it on the mantle as you looked to Mr Mason.

“Does this summer job send you traveling often?”

You nodded and caught Petunia’s hand waving to offer you the empty seat beside Dudley’s you eased down into brushing your skirt against your thighs, crossing your ankles with your knees tilted to the side after you grinned at him moving your satchel to your lap crossing your arms over your legs, “Usually, oh if I had my albums. We went to the Amazon, and it is phenomenal. I doubt I’ve seen so many colors and that was before we even got a mile in.”

Mr Mason grinned asking, “Have you ever been to Paris?”

A weak giggle left you as you caught your aunt and uncle relaxing seeing you were actually easing their night into a better path, “Well, Paris exactly, no. South of France yes. Last summer, there was this rare breed of sea turtle, its shell shines like opals in the sunlight, gorgeous. It got tangled in some nets and had an injured fin and again we got called in because it started biting people that were helping it. It takes special medicines and equipment to help heal its fins, and well it’s never not fun to see my uncle getting bitten by random animals.” You said with a giggle making Mr Mason and his wife chuckle.

For a few more minutes you shared more of your travels until you caught the muffled clatter from upstairs making you giggle and say, “No doubt my cumbersome cat has been bumping around since I was gone. It was a last minute trip so shots weren’t able to be had. I should probably go and fetch him before he starts yowling.” The pair gave you pleasant goodbyes and you gave Petunia a timid hug and Vernon a pat on the shoulder with one for Dudley on your way to the stairs.

Quietly you trotted up waving your hand at Harry after a press of your finger to your lips shifting him into a silver fluffy long tailed cat with his same green eyes. With a low grumble he settled into your arms after you eased his trunk and Hedgewig’s cage into your bag before you turned and made your way downstairs again saying goodbye on your way out through the door Dudley was holding for you. His eyes looking you both over curiously while Mr Mason was commenting on the size of your cat explaining the noise it had made.

Outside you made your way back to the powder blue enchanted car packed with Weasley teens in their approved usage of the car by Arthur, who alerted you to the loose Graphorn. With a chuckle Ron accepted Harry into the back seat between him and Fred as you sat in the front seat closing the door behind you saying, “Sorry, they had company.”

George chuckled saying with Fred as he started to drive down the street, “Ooh, schmoozing, bet that went well.”

You nodded with a giggle, “Had to try and Muggle proof our travels, changed a few of our creatures to snakes and turtles.”

With a chuckle rippling through the car you turned around to head off to the street of shops with the alley where Molly and Arthur would meet you at to head off to Diagon Alley.

Tightly cramped you all squeezed into the back of the car unable to keep from giggling all the way to the bumpy landing in a shielded lot taking you through a path to the Leaky Cauldron holding the brick entrance into the shopping center. Easing your palms against your skirt over your thighs you moved to the side to let Percy climb out only to feel Ginny fold into your side stirring a grin onto your face in looping your arm around her shoulders while she fidgeted with the vest over the top of her pale green dress Molly had tailored for her from the wardrobe supply in your attic she had shopped through readying for school. Her nerves growing the nearer you got to the first shop for cauldrons her grin grew and her raised hand folded her fingers between yours dangling in front of her through Draco stealing your other hand spotting his father in the distant crowds.

Stop by stop you all filled in your lists wondering through the crowds milling about you at the larger crowd growing in the book shop. Just barely you made it through the door when a number of Wizards turned hearing your name being whispered. Weaving through the others you wondered at why it was so crowded only to let out a groan seeing Gilderoy Lockhart himself dressed to his finest. A tap on the shoulder brought Ginny to Molly’s side near the equally as swooning Hermione eyed the blue eyed blonde haired buffoon spouting off about himself to a photographer and reporter.

“And to the matter of my place here today. I have taken up the fabled position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor in Hogwarts.”

Harry inched closer to your side mumbling, “He can’t be serious, can he?”

Your head tilted for a moment only for you to notice the grin on the buffoon’s face dimming for a moment seeing you and Harry together. “Harry Potter and Jaqi Black.”

The photographer turned as a few others did to peer over at you, his arm extended nudging you closer to Lockhart after tugging Harry sending him in a spin to Lockhart’s chest. Hurrying over you took his free side as he spouted off, “I bet when these two walked into Flourish and Blotts to buy my autobiography, Magical Me, which continues on 27th week best seller list they did not realize they would both be leaving with my collective works, free of charge.” Pulling you both nearer to his sides he mumbled, “Nice big smile, together, you two and I are worth the front page.” Flashes grew blinding you for a few moments until the pictures stopped and as soon as you were both alone holding the tall stacks of books in your arms as you walked back to the Twins.

Curiously you peered down at the range of titles, Magical Me, Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests, Break with a Banshee, Gadding with Ghouls, Holidays with Hags, Travels with Trolls, Voyages with Vampires, Wanderings with Werewolves, Year with the Yeti, The Travel Trilogy (collection of Holiday with Hags, Voyages with Vampires and Wandering with Werewolves), Marauding with Monsters, Who Am I?. The final one based off his latest bout of travels that found him trapped by a pack of Wampus Cat that had used their mental abilities on him and stolen his powers, a group which he could not identify leading to a life of explorations towards a book on the world through the eyes of a powerless Wizard.

Rolling your eyes you watched Harry pass his books over to Ginny, “Here, you can have these.” Molly’s mouth fell open, “I can afford my own.” His face still pink at the uncomfortable situation while you tried to shake off the fear of being exposed as a fraud from the humiliating tug into another headline you certainly didn’t want.

Ron followed after him to go fetch their own supply of bound collections required for the course, only to pause watching you hand yours over to Hermione, who grinned and thanked you getting in line for them to be signed watching as you went to grab a second hand collection of your own. For Molly’s relief the twins had their own galleons to cover the 34 galleon purchased set and Percy had earned money from both helping in your budding my mail shop and a short time summer job in a shop near the Grimmauld Place entrance leading to his living with you all summer. All that a great relief on the mother of 7 needing supplies for 5 of them, partly why you all had decided to start so young on the shop and summer jobs to help the amazing woman out who loved you all so fearlessly.

Ron, “You could have fried an egg on your face.”

Harry, “Shut up. You try having some stranger grab you for a picture in front of a crowd sometime.”

Ron chuckled, “No problem. Can’t wait till my face is in the papers.” Making Harry shake his head before he looked to Draco, now several inches taller from summer break pitifully trying to hide behind you to pay for your books to avoid being noticed by Lucius, who was currently bickering with Arthur near the entrance.

Paid and on your way out you eyed Lucius drawing Ginny’s worn journal from her cauldron insulting Arthur once again, “If you are going to associate with trash, they might as well pay you well for it. But by the looks of this,” he dropped that and a second journal into her cauldron your group had missed, “I would say not.” His eyes traveled to Draco at your side whose hand clutched the strap of your satchel over your back. “Draco.” His eyes rose to the supposed Professor peacocking for his fans, “It is a pity you will be wasting a year listening to that pincushion. Your mother has copies of our course manuals from our second year. We will send it along so you do not lag behind next year when a more suitable replacement is found.”

Leaving it at that he turned and walked through the door making you glance down at him as he said, “Not half as bad as I expected.”

Arthur shook his head, “At least we agree on one thing. Albus must have something planned to have hired him.”

In a low mumble you replied, “I would really like to be able to vote on these plans of his beforehand.” Making them all chuckle.

Arthur glanced at Ginny saying, “Now, our final stop, Ollivanders.” Spreading grins on your faces in Ginny’s eager bounce. Through the streets you passed the bustling shops until you entered the darkly painted building where you took hold of Ginny’s cauldron spreading her grin as Ollivander eyed your group with a grin of his own, “Ah, another Weasley I see. Finally a daughter too.”

Shifting your hand from the handle to the bottom of the cauldron you peered down ensuring it would not tilt only to see a familiar book edge. Glancing up you ensured no one was looking then you shrunk the journal and slid it into your bag and looked up to see the first wand being offered. Curved and black a wave of dust through the back room at her testing swish had her handing it back for him to turn and trot up his rolling ladder to try for another. Surely by now he would have had a supply of testing items so his shop wouldn’t be destroyed with each try to get it right but soon enough a second had blown a door off its hinges and the third turned the back wall into a mural of ponies. An action thoroughly stumping him at the result but the sheer power of the spell aimed him in the right direction.

Tan and long with a woven handle all out of the testy yew with a smudged note as for the core a bright glow formed around her brightening her smile as he stated, “I see, I see. How fitting, six elder brothers to raise your strength for the future. This wand shall see you through thick and thin should you mind your studies well.”

Bouncing on her feet she replied, “Thank you so much!” Beaming at the wand in her palms and then back up at him again in his wave of his own wand to repair all her browsing had brought about. The wand was paid for and his eyes had traveled to you, remembering your own trials that had taken just shy of half an hour after the twins had taken barely ten minutes combined. Wand after wand obeyed you but none fit right until your eyes by chance had risen to the wiggling and glowing box shimmying itself free of a long since touched rack.

“It is regarded as an unstable, if not the most difficult substance to use in wand making,” the Thestral core of your wand had always been a rough match for any, as those who have witnessed death and are able to see Thestrals are found able to even attempt to wield these. The wood itself posed an altogether more complicated chance to ever match, “for cherry wood often makes a wand that possesses truly lethal power, whatever the core.” For his assumptions of what the match could do he was still eager to see how well you could test it and hearing of your powerful spell to cast Riddle out done alone he could tell that was just a scratch at the surface of what you could do. A well needed force in the brewing wars to come.

Another month was all you had left and when you got back home you focused on trying to read through the assigned books for your new Professor’s class. Each one more unbelievable than the last at the end of each night firing off letters to Charlie sharing just who you had been left under the charge of and how he had said he lost his powers. All earning more than a few howlers in return just filled with his laughter and that of his friends out there at what was claimed.

Bill especially made certain to share his matching reaction and stated if you needed anything just to write to him and he would try to hurry home to your enchanted doorway if the bumbling buffoon got you all into any trouble.

Pt 20

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jeannereames · 5 years

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Happy Birthday to the real Amyntor: Ed Reames

9/11 is a day of mourning in the US. But for me, 9/11 means my father’s birthday. And with Dancing with the Lion: Rise coming out next month--which is dedicated to my father’s memory--I decided I’d post here the tribute to my father that I wrote shortly after his death in February of 2017. My father (and mother) provided the model for Amyntor in the novel. So if you’d like to meet the “real” Amyntor, here he is.

Calvin Edward Reames, c. 1944

As some of you are already aware, my father’s health—physical and mental—has been failing, especially since autumn. In late January, he caught pneumonia and was admitted to the hospital. He never regained conscious awareness and was placed on palliative care. At 3:15pm, Eastern time, February 10, 2017, he died, almost exactly 92 years and 5 months since he entered this world.

Social media has become the communication currency of our time, and supposedly nothing on the Internet ever really disappears. Ergo I want to tell you about my father so HE won’t disappear. This is my own reflection. No one’s life can be understood by any single individual in it. We’re too multifaceted. The father I knew wasn't even the father my brother knew, as we were born almost 18 years apart--he at the beginning of the Baby Boom and me at the tail end. Yet my father raised a writer for a daughter, so I feel the need to eulogize him as I knew him. Others will have other stories, more or less flattering.

Born on the now-infamous date of 9/11, 1924, in Gorham, Jackson County, (Southern) Illinois, he survived the Tri-State Tornado at only 6 months of age. With him in her arms, his mother ran for the railroad tracks and got on the opposite side from the mile-wide monster bearing down on them, then laid her own body over his; the tornado leapt the tracks and spared them. Perhaps that was an omen for a charmed life. On the face of if, his life might not seem particularly charmed, but he survived the Depression, a world war, and mostly made good on the American Dream. He even lived long enough to see his Cubbies win the World Series.

Iva Mae Gregersen Reames & Daddy, 1925

The eldest of 13 children, he grew up in a family who were poor even by Depression-era standards. It made him generous, occasionally foolishly so. Yet if he decided someone was “his” (family or friend), he saw it as his obligation to help. That conviction stemmed less from abstract ethics than from an innate kindness arising out of his recall of what it meant to be in need. Sometimes people say, “Well, I managed …” and expect others to suffer as they had. Daddy could do that, too, but mostly he didn't. If he could prevent someone from suffering, that made him happy. He just wanted a “Thank you.” When he was in the war, he sent virtually his whole paycheque home to his mother each month to help care for his younger brothers and sisters. He kept $5. Yes, $5 went much further then, but as an unmarried corporal in the US army, he made about $65 dollars monthly in 1944. So he kept 1/13th of his income and gave away the rest.

US Army Corporal, 126th AAA Battalion, 1943

That, perhaps better than anything, exemplifies his fundamental nature. It’s in our actions and choices that, I believe, we reveal our true selves.

He liked to laugh, and kid, but never cruelly. For some families, a disparaging jest is meant as back-handed affection, but that wasn’t heard in the house in which I grew up. When I was younger, I was frequently teased because I walked right into comments with potential double meanings. Perhaps one of the values of getting old(er) is that I’ve aged out of being an easy target. Yet I never learned to hear what others said as an opportunity for ribbing because my parents didn’t find that sort of thing funny. My father's sense of humor was devoid of sarcasm, as he thought it mean-spirited. Some of that owed to his own mother, who—to hear him talk about her—should have been beatified immediately upon her death. But I also believe it owed to having lived through real struggle himself.

To his mind, the world is mean enough. He saw no need to make it meaner via our interactions with people about whom we should care. It's partly for that reason, and a basic aversion to drama, that he was a much-desired member of the pastor-parish relations committee at our church in Lakeland, Florida. His presence tended to tamp down exaggerated crises and occasional bouts of flailing (which is actually a bit funny, given his own tendency to worry).

My father had a will of iron, and a quiet ambition easily overlooked. For instance, when he decided to stop smoking, back before I was born, he’d just received a new carton of cigarettes for Christmas. He threw them in the trash and quit cold turkey because he’d decided he was done. He took up a pipe later (I think largely for image), but decided he didn’t want to do that, either, and just put down the pipe one day. That was it.

"The Lineman," Normal Rockwell

When Daddy decided to do something, he did it. “Failure is not an option”: Apollo 13’s motto. Well, the men (and women) who got Apollo 13 home are my father’s generation. When he returned from the war, he was one of millions looking for a job. He tried on several, but finally decided to work for the telephone company because communications seemed like the future. Before the war, he’d wanted to be a pharmacist, yet circumstance had curtailed the college degree required. So he began showing up regularly in the hiring offices of General Telephone Electric (GTE), asking for work. He made himself annoying. But squeaky wheel gets the grease, and finally they sent him north as a telephone lineman … in January … during a blizzard. He was a relatively little guy (wiry, but short), and they doubted he’d last 2 days. They figured it was a good way to get rid of his terrier persistence.

Daddy on right, GTE employee award

He persisted for 40+ years, and retired as a (self-taught) senior engineer in the mid-1980s. Never tell a Reames, "You can’t do that."

The guys who’d worked under him at the end liked him so much, they kept coming to visit him for years after. He had that effect on people, whether at work, at church, or as a ham radio operator ("This is K9RWP calling..."). They sensed he truly cared about them, and responded in kind. He wasn’t a boisterous or especially outgoing person, but he was still an extrovert. He’d strike up conversations with random strangers in lines at store check-outs.

Especially if there was a baby involved.

Daddy & his great-granddaughter, Leila

See, Daddy loved babies. And babies loved Daddy. Maybe as a result of being the eldest of 13, but he could burp them, change a diaper pronto, or make them laugh. He so enjoyed watching little kids, especially as he aged; he’d break into a grin just to see them playing at a distance. He was never among the “Children should be seen and not heard” crowd. To his mind, children should be talked to and played with. They would inherit the earth. When my son was born just a few months after my mother's death, Daddy said, “He’s my little replacement.” At the time, I worried his words were fatalistic. But he went on to survive my mother by almost 20 years, and now, I see his words as an expression of continuity. We are our ancestors.

Daddy, Grandson Ian & Licorice as a kitten

So my son, Ian, is his replacement, in the larger sense. When we look forward, we also look back to where we came from. I tried to insure that Ian got to know his Grandpa, who was there just days after he came home from the hospital after birth, and was there when he graduated from high school, even paid his first bill for books at college. Because that’s who Daddy was. If he didn’t get to attend college himself, he made sure both his kids did, and his grandkids. For him, that was an achievement.

As I said…the success of others, especially friends and family, seemed to Daddy the same as his own.

Yet his generosity and empathy extended beyond just people. Daddy was a cat magnet. We used to joke that if he sat down and there was a cat within 50 feet, pretty soon, that cat would be on his lap. He liked dogs, to be sure, but dogs (and horses) were my mother’s favorites. Daddy liked cats, and they liked him. Dogs are forgiving. They’ll stay with even an abusive owner; but cats leave. They don’t put up with crap. Daddy? Even semi-feral cats trusted him.

Daddy, me, Ian, and a completely random barn cat who decided to adopt him for the day at my aunt’s farm

So while he was raised in a time when animals were tools and food more than family members, and he certainly went hunting from a young age to help put food on the table, I think he, more than my mother, had a soft spot for animals. I remember in the ‘70s, he decided we were going to raise rabbits for food, and bought a pair of does. Well, it didn’t take long for yours truly to make pets not only of the does, but of the first litter of babies. All of them had to go to homes where they’d be pets, not dinner. And while I’d made the pronouncement, it didn’t take much to convince my father. Shooting a wild squirrel for the stew pot (especially when hungry) was one thing; killing the rabbits one fed regularly and took care of was another. So our venture in home-grown meat failed miserably (to, I’m sure, the rabbits’ collective relief). Yet it wasn’t just due to my agitating. I don’t think Daddy could have killed a one of them, even if I hadn’t protested. They had names, after all.

He wasn’t a saint. None of us are. The cliche applies: we're a mix of vices and virtues, like shadows against the backlight of the sun. Age softened some of his, while exacerbating others due to a failing filter. Among other things he did well, Daddy was a champion worrier. He worried about anything you can imagine (and then some). Perhaps that owed to growing up in such an unstable era as the Depression when it seemed anything could happen, but for instance, he would remind me constantly to hold onto handrails while going up and down stairs. It seems trivial, but he genuinely angsted over me falling at home and hurting myself when nobody might find me for days. So I (mostly) hold onto rails, because I hear his voice in my head, telling me to.

The irony, of course, is that he was in much more danger of falling, yet he didn't tend to worry about himself. Before he moved up to be near my brother, I tried to get him to buy one of those Life Alert systems. I even employed the ultimate weapon: his grandson (Ian), to beg. He refused. He’d be fine, because he’s of that generation when all a man should need was himself, a gun, a good job, and a driver's license. And oh, boy, getting him to relinquish that driver's license as he went increasingly blind from macular degeneration was quite the battle, one my poor brother largely had to face when Daddy moved north to Kentucky in his last years. Daddy never did let go of the worrying, though.

He could be impatient, and critical, too, sometimes overly so. I never wanted to sing in front of him because he, like many of his siblings, had an excellent ear and I was, well, usually a little flat. He could hear it, and would say so. But the one he was most critical of was himself, if he failed to live up to his (very high) standards of what he thought he ought to do. Some of that, I lay at the feet of his own father, at least as my mother told it to me. Yet in contrast, as noted earlier, he delighted in the success of others. As a child and young woman I wanted to succeed not because I feared his critique (except about my singing), but because I basked in his happiness when I did well. He could be downright embarrassing in his bragging. If failure, especially his, was not an option, he didn't feel the need to build himself up by tearing down others. He was happy to share the spotlight, or even to applaud from the sidelines--and mean it. Again, maybe that owed to being one of 13, but I think it went deeper, back to his fundamental worldview: “You and me,” not, “Me or you.” He was quietly ambitious, but not especially competitive. Except at cards. Then all bets were off (sometimes literally).

Daddy with Mama, Christmas, c. 1990

One of his most outstanding virtues was his loyalty. For instance, he fell in love with my mother and stayed married to her for 51 years, then never remarried. While it might have been nice for him to remarry, I don't think it was in him; it would have felt like "replacing" her, and to his mind, she had no replacement.

After her death in 1997, I recall going through old pictures of her with him, one from just after the war, which showed them out with friends. Keep in mind that my mother, from childhood until after the birth of my brother, was…pudgy. While on the shorter side, my father was never heavy in his youth. In fact, he got quite buff during WWII: broad-chested and slim-waisted. But as we looked at that picture of my mother next to her friends, he pointed to her with tears in his eyes, and said, "She was the most beautiful of them all." Yup, the "pudgy" girl.

Idalee Brouillette, c. 1944, the picture my father carried during WWII

But he was right: Mama was a stunner. I know that, now, people say I look a lot like her, and I’m honored it’s so. But I was never as pretty as she was, especially in her youth, and I think my father felt bedazzled that this beautiful, black-haired Brouillette girl decided she was going to marry him, and that was the end of it. Her family was better off financially during the Depression, even with Indian blood; they had a farm with a full section, and a car, and enough money for my grandfather to send my mother and her sisters into town to go to school when he thought the teacher at the school on Buttermilk Hill was unqualified. So I suppose you could say Daddy "married up." But to Mama’s mind, she’d won the deal, getting the determined, smart guy.

See, long before they met in person, Mama had gone with her best friend Annie to Gorham High School for a day, visiting. In math class, the teacher put a problem on the board and asked the class to solve it. Only one student could: my father. He got up and wrote the solution on the blackboard, and Mama was enchanted. She asked Annie, “Who is that guy!?”

Some years later, she married that guy.

March 8th, 1946, wedding picture

In many ways, my parents were quite different people. My mother was progressive in thought beyond her time, naturally empathic and perceptive, a bookworm introvert with a steel spine when she needed it and the amazing ability to keep 5+ people’s business in her head without forgetting anything. Everything I know about organization (and I’m pretty good at it), I learned from my mother. My father was conservative, protective, supportive, more intelligent (in sheer IQ), but less emotionally intelligent (EQ), more driven, but less philosophical. Yet they created a unique alchemy of spirit. They didn’t share common interests—Mama loved reading novels, Daddy never read fiction, Mama loved watching murder mysteries, Daddy preferred ball games or the news. Yet they looked out on the world in the same direction, and that’s what mattered.

Ed Reames in high school

In the end, what can I say but that Daddy was the epitome of the Greatest Generation. And now he’s gone. I won’t say we’ll never see their like again, because nobody knows the future. They weren’t perfect—racism was an institutionalized assumption enshrined in segregation, women barely had the vote, LGBTQ wasn’t even talked about—but we, in our current America, could take a page from those who survived abject poverty and economic collapse without government safety nets, then went on to save the world from fascism. They did it not by grand deeds, but by the simple heroism of young men and a few women storming a beach at Normandy or Iwo Jima, a lot of whom never came home. Daddy used to joke that he chased Hitler all over Europe but never caught him.

Daddy, you did catch him. You were part of the men and women who stopped him.

You are my hero. You are the real Captain America.

I’m privileged and grateful to be your daughter, and I love you, forever.

#My 9/11 #The Greatest Generation #Amyntor #Ed Reames #Dancing with the Lion #DwtL #tribute to my father

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bobbystompy · 4 years

Text

68 Quotes I Enjoyed From 2019

Below are my favorite quotes from 2019. Though most occurred throughout the year, some took place before but were encountered during.

1) “I don’t bitch about Millenials.

John Entwistle once complained that he didn’t understand rap. Pete Townsend said, ‘It’s not our job to understand it. It’s our job to get the fuck out of the way.’

New generations come of age. The older generation’s job is to shut up and adapt.” - @danagould

2) “I can’t do drugs with you until we kiss.”

3) “If you pay me $50 I'll show up to your funeral but stand really far away, holding a black umbrella regardless of the weather, so that people think you died with a dark and interesting secret.” - @DanaSchwartzzz

4) “A human being is a dangerous thing to let loose in a room with itself, when it cannot think.” - Roger Ebert

5) “There are no bad bourbons, only better bourbons.” - Dave Hernandez

6) “You can’t put a dollar in a kimono.”

7) “This is how it was.” - rampant takeaway from watching ‘Superbad’ several years after its release

8) “What if I had been born fifty years before you in a house on the street where you lived / Maybe I’d be outside as you passed on your bike / Would I know? / And in a wide sea of eyes, I see one pair that I recognize” - Ben Folds, ‘The Luckiest’

9) “Learn the rules so you can break them.”

10) “Nobody makes chili for two.” - Stacy Massey

11) “‘Best city in the world,’ I mutter to myself, as i adjust my ‘driving blanket’.” - Chicago resident Deanna Belos, during the 2019 Polar Vortex

12) “Dude, no one’s ever got arrested for listening to Counting Crows.” - Ricky O’Donnell, justifying late night music volume at his party

13) Bill Belichick: We’re going to have fun tonight. Rob Gronkowski: Yes we are. We deserve it. Belichick: You’re damn right. Gronk: I haven’t stepped out in like eight months. I gotta step out tonight. Belichick: I’m with you, man. I’m even going to step out. Gronk: Oh, I like it!

A Super Bowl winning exchange.

14) Center David Andrews thanked Bill Belichick for giving him "a shot".

Belichick disagreed with it.

Andrews: Thank you for giving me a shot. Belichick: A shot? I didn't give you shit. You earned it! I don't give anything.

Another Super Bowl winning exchange.

15) “We elected one of the very worst living human beings to be President, and it's exhausting. Each and every day, it's an exhausting slog, just to exist in a world where that's true.” - Michael Schur

16) “Some of y’all always picked Odd Job when you played Goldeneye and it shows” - @thedad

17) “Any app is a dating app if you try hard enough.” - Z.W. Martin (though he says it’s lifted)

18) "Once you're as woke as I am, you learn to feel bad all the time.”

19) “Everything’s a balance beam when you’re 90.” - John Dingell

20) [I wake up in a world where The Beatles never existed]

Me: Check out this song I just wrote

[I begin playing “Ob La Di Ob La Da” without having first built up years of goodwill]

Crowd of people: Wow, this sucks ass

-- @seanoneal

21) “People change people.” - Corey Matthews, Girl Meets World

22) “The easiest thing to do on earth is not write.” - William Goldman

23) “Dan could be like a difficult uncle. I didn’t love his fire-breathing conservative politics. I didn’t love the transformation that came over his novels. In Semi-Tough, he created two benighted Texas jocks and laid their prejudices bare. He was declaring himself a member of the Mark Twain coaching tree. In later books, Dan seemed to be trying to prove he could still tell a racist joke. He insisted that his memoir—the last truly immaculate piece of writing he delivered—include a tirade against political correctness. When his editor said people might be offended, Dan said, ‘Fuck people.’

There are certain writers whose style you pilfer. Certain writers whose moral fiber you try to inherit. For me, Dan represented a third category: a writer whose aura you replicate—or, failing that, try to stand in for a while.” - Bryan Curtis, on Dan Jenkins

24) “Never marry anything. Never choose. Even in love, it's better to be chosen.” - La Dolce Vita

25) “An uncluttered, uncomplicated happy ending might sound wonderful, but it’s hardly ever satisfying. Because the value of great stories lies in the tension between desire and need, between the yearning for the ideal, and the unshakable conviction that ideals don’t really exist, at least not the way we want them to. A great story should hurt a little when it leaves us. There should be some hope, but that hope should remain somewhere just an inch beyond our fingers, because that’s the truth. Even if you had all the perfect moments in the world, you’d still be reaching.” - Zach Handlen, on the Futurama series finale

26) “You can’t see him because he has sunglasses on.” - Alissa Levy

27) “The cinema is the greatest art form ever conceived for generating emotions in its audience. That's what it does best. (If you argue instead for dance or music, drama or painting, I will reply that the cinema incorporates all of these arts).” - Roger Ebert

28) “‘Are you gonna let politics ruin a friendship?’

Yes tf I am

People talk about politics as if it’s this isolated, abstract concept that only matters at election time. Somebody’s politics is their world view. It’s whether they think certain human beings deserve rights. It’s how they think the world should be. And if somebody thinks that the world should be colder, meaner, less accepting and downright hostile to people that are different to them, then sure as fuck is the friendship over.”

29) “Can the Supreme Court get me mushrooms?” - J-Papp

30) “Any song under two minutes already has a head start on its way into my heart. Just scream at me and then leave me.” - Drew Magary

31) “Long neck cold beers never broke my heart.” - Clemson Tom

32) “I’d just like to point out that the last spoken words of Game of Thrones were:

‘I once brought a jackass and a honeycomb into a brothel.’”

- @Authoroux

33) “Just once before I die, I want to toss my keys to someone and tell them ‘Bring the car around’.” - Mike Skully

34) “For all the weight they're given, last words are usually as significant as first words.” - Grand Maester Pycelle, Game of Thrones

35) “The best remedy for unrequited love is a trip around the world.” - Cheers

36) [on switching from a hotel to a motel]

Manny: I don't like the sound of that. A lot of amenities disappear when an H turns into an M. Jay: Hey when I met you, you were eating cereal out of a bucket.

-- Modern Family

37) “You and Lindsey don’t want to be ‘estranged’. Estranged is the relationship we want to have with our mothers.” - MegFil

38) “Cigarettes are undefeated.”

39) “My toes are like my fingers on my feet. I can pick stuff up with them.” - Tracy Cunningham

40) “Republicans govern without shame, Democrats shame without governing.” - Bill Maher

41) Sam: I don’t understand the vagaries of the Internet Josiah: Post often, without thought, and you’ll either get cancelled or cancel someone else.

-- Blink-155

42) “Hang a lantern on your problems.”

43) “What a weird web we weave.” - The Situation, The Jersey Shore: Family Vacation

44) “Let the ocean worry about being blue.” - Alabama Shakes, ‘Hang Loose’

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45) “Honesty without tact is cruelty.” - Shelley Rokos

46) “My whole life is the wrong porn link.”

47) “One parent can take care of 10 kids, but 10 kids cannot take care of one parent.” - Joe Gestetner, via “an old Yiddish saying”

48) “There are no heroes in the room.” - Classics of Love, ‘Gun Show’

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49) “If I am a little dismissive, it's only because of my harrowing backstory.” - Mitchell, Modern Family (on why he doesn't like sports)

50) “Every time I’m wearing black, I meet a dog.” - Tracy Cunningham

51) “Shower sex? Why would I fuck in my crying chamber” - @chridollarsign

52) “My theory about quarterbacks, having written about some of them, is you either have to believe in god or think you are a god.” - Mina Kimes

53) “The contradictions of capitalism always manifest in our lyrics if you look deeply.” - Blake Schwarzenbach of Jawbreaker, Riot Fest 2019

54) “Got a ‘hang loose’ from the weakside bartender.”

55) “It’s Jennifer’s birthday always.” - Eric Hutchinson

56) “I can’t think of a less relevant artist in 2019 than Kanye West. A Jesus freak in a MAGA hat. Yeah, congrats dude -- you’re every grandma who watches ‘Young Sheldon’ and mails checks to Joel Osteen now.” - Dan Ozzi

57) “The past and future are in the mind. I’m in the now.” - Tom Brady, via someone else

58) “Sometimes you walk around boring places and you feel like the most exciting thing in it.” - Drew Magary

59) “Sitting is the new smoking.” - Modern Family

60) “I'll straight up fight folks at a book club and discuss books at a fight club I really don't give a shit anymore.” - George Wallace

61) “Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.” - Rose Garvey via wine country

62) “It’s all ‘ok boomer’ until you need someone who can drive stick shift.” - @OrdinaryAlso

63) “He likes the result of the math.” - Dad, talking about my worst subject frustrating during the process but satisfying in the end

64) Stepmom: Do you want a Bears urn or Alabama urn? Dad: Ask me after they play Auburn.

65) “A cold body carries a warm heart.” - Stefanos Tsitsipas’ Instagram, after his Iceland sabbatical

66) [preparing a dish called the Sandwich of Justice with his friend’s recipe]

"The fun thing about it is when you give it to someone, you can say 'Justice is served.’ That's, uh, Ryan's line. I built my whole life on the backs of my friends." - You Suck At Cooking

67) “Usually three people can keep a secret only when two of them are dead.” - The Irishman

68) “An artist can't control who consumes their content any more than a chemist can control how their chemicals are used once they're created.” - Brian Crooks

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tiny-circus · 5 years

Text

1: Let’s start with a tricky one; what is the real reason you are confused right now? I am confused how someone has stolen my identity and has started making accounts in my name :( so shit.

2: Do you ever get “good morning” texts from anyone? No, mornings aren’t good haha

3: If your significant other smoked pot, would you care? Yeah weed just makes people so unproductive. It would annoy me. If it was a social thing I wouldn’t mind buttttt would rather they didn’t.

4: Do you find it easy to trust others? Yeah once the trust is earned or I’ve got to know someone well. Some people are very open and easy to trust

5: What were you doing at 11PM last night? Watching the Hobbit

6: You’re drunk and lost walking down the road; who is with you? Probably Steven lol

7: What would you do if you found out you had been cheated on? Leave, block, delete and never talk to again. There’s not much you can do when you’ve been cheated on other than pick yourself back up again and have time alone.

8: Are you close with your dad? Not really.

9: I bet you kissed someone last night, right? I did not babes

10: What are you listening to? Just got peep show playing in the background :P

11: You can only drink ONE liquid for the rest of your life - what is it? Tea

12: Do you like hickeys? Hate them. Ew.

13: What time do you go to bed? Usually 11:30 - 12pm

14: Is there someone who continuously lets you down? No, I don’t tend to stick around when someone continuously does that

15: Can you text as quickly with one hand as you do both? Who cares? XD

16: Do you always answer your texts? Yeah leaving them unread is so annoying

17: Do you hate the person you fell the hardest for? Nah, hate is a strong word and it happened a long time ago. All water under the bridge now.

18: When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends? An hour or so ago

19: Is there someone that makes you happy every time you see them? Yeeeeeah all my friends do

20: What was your last thought before you went to bed last night? Probably something old like “my back still hurts”

21: Is anyone else in the room with you? Nah bare alonez right now

.22: Do you believe what goes around comes around? Yeah

23: Were you happier four months ago than you are now? I’m about the same

24: Is there someone you wish you could fix things with? Not really

25: In the past week, have you cried? I shed a little tear reading Kingdom of Ash but I couldn’t have a full on cry in the middle of the train XD 26: What colour is the shirt you are wearing? Red

27: Do people ever call you by your last name? No its so rude when people call someone by their last name. I don’t like it

28: Is anyone ignoring you right now? I dunno?

29: Do you have a best friend? No I’m not 5 30: Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the last person you kissed? Wouldn’t be hard but I wouldn’t want to see it

31: Who was your last call from? EE - sorting out stupid identity theft shit

32: Are you mad at anyone? I’m a little annoyed. I have a friend that barely contacts me at all (which is fine, we’re all busy and have our lives) but when they do contact me its to talk about their problems that they don’t ever sort out over and over again. I also don’t think it takes much of their time just to say “hey, what’s up, how’re you?”

33. Have you ever kissed someone older than you? Yeah I think most people have been a little older

34: How old will the last person you kissed be on his/her next birthday? I don’t know, 29? 35: How many more days until your birthday? I am not counting, soz babe

36: Do you have any summer plans yet? Probably book a holiday to Greece, haven’t thought that far ahead

37: Do you have any good friends of the opposite sex? Yes

38: Are you keeping anything from your best friend(s) now? I guess I’m keeping my feelings about the friend that barely messages me. I think I’ll have the conversation at some point but they get very anxious and upset whenever I voice a concern.

39: Do you have a secret that you’ve never told anyone? Not that I can think of

40: Have you ever regretted kissing someone? Probably, some have been so bad XD

41: Do you think age matters in relationships? If you’re both consenting adults and there isn’t some weird power control then I guess its okay

42: Are you available? Available for? ;) 43: How many people have you had real, strong feelings for since high school ended? Two people

44: If you had to get a piercing (not ears), what would you get? Lip

45: Do you believe exes can be friends? Yeah I think they can. I think if nothing awful happened and it ends okay, you both need some time apart to get used to having that distance between each other and do your own thing. Once you’re both in the same space mentally it can work.

46: Do you regret anything? Not really

47: Honestly, what’s on your mind right now? Thinking about what is on my mind xD

48: Did you ever lose a best friend? I’ve drifted from people, yeah

49: Was your last kiss a mistake? Not a mistake, I liked him at the time but it didn’t work out. Oh well.

50: Why aren’t you pursuing the person you like? I got over the person I liked cos he didn’t want anything serious. I’ve been single for a while so, I don’t really want to mess around

51: Has the last person you kissed ever seen you cry? No

52: Do you still talk with the person you LAST kissed? Yeah sometimes, mostly just send each other weird memes

53: What was the last thing you ate? Homemade bread

54: Did you get any compliments today? No

55: Where are you going on your next vacation? JAPAN AND SOUTH KOREA :D

56: Do you own anything from other countries? I mean my whole wardrobe is mostly from Japan xD

57: Are most of your friend guys or girls? Half and half, but I’ve always got on better with girls

58: Where have you lived most of your life? Good ol’ Billerz

59: When was the last time you took a long drive? I don’t know

60: Have you ever played Spin the Bottle? No I don’t wanna kiss gross people xD

61: Have you ever TPd someone’s house? I’m not American so Idk what that is

62: Who do you text the most? Faun

63: What was the last movie you saw? The Hobbit

64: What’s preventing your current boyfriend/girlfriend from going back to their ex? The fact that I don’t have a boyfriend/girlfriend right now xD

65: How many boyfriends/girlfriends did you have in 2010? 1

66: Is the last person you kissed younger than you? No

67: Do you curse around your parents? Yeah

68: Are you happy with where you live? S'ight, three stops from London so I ain’t complaining : P

69. Picture of yourself? Just check my profile lol

70. Are you a monogamous person or do you believe in open-ended relationships? I’m 100% monogamous

71. Have you ever been dumped? Yeh

72. What do you most like about making out? It leads to spooning which leads to forking

73. Have you ever casually made out with someone who you weren’t seriously involved with? Ye.

74. When you kiss someone for the first time, is it usually you who initiates it or the other? The other, I’ve noticed I’m really bad at initiating anything physical. I get kind of nervous? I’m not really a touchy person haha

75. What part of a person’s body do you find most attractive? The face and hair

76. Who was the last person you talked to last night before you went to bed? Mum

77. Had sex with someone you knew less than an hour? >___>

78. Had sex with someone you didn’t know their name? >____>

79. What makes your heart flutter and brings a big cheesy smile to your face? When someone messages me something really sweet, or take the time out of their day just to speak to me. I think a little effort goes a long way

80. Would you get involved with someone if they had a child already? Honestly depends on how strongly I feel about that person. I don’t want to say no because until I’m in the situation I don’t know

81. Has someone who had a crush on you ever confessed to you? Yeah

82. Do you tell a lot of people when you have a crush? Noooooooo I don’t tell anyone until I’m actually with that person. Idk I just have this paranoia that voicing my feelings to other people will ruin it or something will go wrong. So I just keep it to myself until things progress between me and the person I like

83. Do you miss your last sweetie? My what?

84. Last time you slow danced with someone? Never xD

85. Have you ever ‘dated’ someone you’ve never met? No, how does that work?

86. How can I win your heart? Make an effort, sense of humour, be respectful and kind and sociable

87. What is your astrological sign? Gemini

88. What were you doing last night at 12 AM? Watching peep show and using my massage machine. My back has been in a lot of pain lately. Getting old init xD

89. Do you cook? Yeah gotta to stay alive 8)

90. Have you ever gotten back in touch with an old flame after a time of more than 3 months of no communication? Yeah they got in contact with me. To be honest most guys end up getting back in touch, its either for a booty call, cos they’re feeling shit and lonely or they have a lot of apologising to do.

91. If you’re single right now, do you wish you were in a relationship? I don’t wish for it, but if it happens then okay :B

92. Do you prefer to date various people or do you pretty much fall into monogamous relationships quickly? I’m not really into modern dating to be honest. I did it for a while and its a lot of effort and not much pay off. People stop talking for no reason or they don’t give a reason even though you get along. Then you need to build it back up again with someone else. I prefer to just get to know someone after time

93. What physical traits do you look for in a potential interest? Dark hair, baby face, nice fashion style, tattoos

94. Name four things that you wish you had: A long 3 month holiday My own house A cute guy to cuddle ;) Aaaand a million pounds yeah

95. Are you a player? lol no, I’m very direct. Cba with wasting time

96. Have you ever kissed 2 people in one day? Yeah

97. Are you a tease? Again, I’m very direct so if I want something I’ll say

98. Ever meet anyone you met on Tumblr? Yeah

99. Have you ever been deeply in love with someone? Yeash

100. Anybody on Tumblr that you’d go on a date with? Nah no one is on here lol

101. Hugs or Kisses? Both :'3

102. Are you too shy to ask someone out? Not really

103. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex? Cute face, dark hair dark eyes ;) 104. Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you babe? Everyone should be called babe

105. If a sexy person was pursuing you, but you knew he/she was in relationship, would you go for it? No I wouldn’t even bother speaking to them

106. Do you flirt a lot? Not at all xD 107. Your last kiss? What about it?

108. Have you kissed more than 5 people since the start of 2011? Up until now? Yeah xD

109. Have you kissed anyone in the past month? Yeah 110. If you could kiss anyone who would it be? TOP

111. Do you know who you’ll kiss next? Nope

112. Does someone like you currently? Nah

113. Do you currently have feelings for anyone? Nah

114. Do you like to be in serious relationships or just flings? Serious, flings are a waste of time for me 115. Ever made out with just a friend? No thats weird

116. Are you happier single or in a relationship? If the relationship is right, i’ll be happy but Im also happy being single

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neutralonketchup · 5 years

Note

all of them. every single one

sweet and pure asks

🐰- do you believe in soul mates?

not really. I believe that people can be very similar and naturally complimentary to one another but I believe too much in people’s ability to change and not enough in fate to believe in soul mates. also I think its restricting to think that there’s one perfect person out there for you and that each person you meet could be them so you Better Not Lose Them. so yeah tl;dr No

💌- diary or journal?

Journal

✨- which fictional character (book, show, or movie) do you relate to most?

Most recently Llewyn Davis which isn’t a good thing but more generally probably any iteration of Peter Parker

💕- are you crushing on someone?

Nope, and i haven’t been for an Almost Concerning amount of time

💋- kissing in the dark or kissing in the rain?

The rain, simply because you can feasibly see whats goin on

🐝- describe your aesthetic in emojis

😴👻🍂☔️🧙🏼‍♂️

🍼- what is your favorite memory?

Not a specific memory but more a Genre of memory: summers as a like 10-13 year old, having absolutely no responsibilities or obligations, waking up to a cool breeze blowing through the window and knowing that the day is entirely truly yours. It was the most relaxing state of being and I doubt I’ll ever feel that again. More recently a few days ago me n a buncha my friends sat down and played Minecraft on a LAN server for like 7 straight hours and it’s honestly the most fun I can remember having in a long time

🌸- what is your favorite flower?

I really like lavender, but also white roses are beautiful in how delicate and pure they are, and cherry blossoms will never not take my breath away

💖- have you ever been in love?

I honestly don’t know. Possibly? The trouble with love is I don’t know if you ever know you’re in it until you’re in it.

🍰- strawberry or vanilla?

Vanilla

🍯- describe your favorite smell

The smell carried by the wind on a grey, blustery, intermittently stormy fall day. The kind of day where the only sunshine you see comes down in rays through distant breaks in the clouds and when you step outside the smell of wet leaves and winter on the way fills you with a Sense Of Power.

🎂- if you had 3 wishes, what would they be?

1. To constantly have enough money for whatever I wanted to spend it on

2. To make everyone in the world respect the Human Rights Of eachother

3. Shape-shifting

🍪- cookie dough or cookies?

Cookie dough

☕- coffee or tea?

Tea, black with cream and 3 sugars

🍃- would you rather live in a sea with mermaids or a forest with fairies?

The sea. I’ve always thought since I was a little kid that if I could live underwater I’d be the most comfortable I’d Ever Be

🍂- what’s your middle name?

Robert

💫- what is your sun, moon, and rising sign?

Libra (which is why these are all paragraphs explaining my indecisiveness), Capricorn, and Leo

🌧️- favorite thing to do on rainy days?

Curl up next to a window and read or play video games or watch a movie or do something to recharge in proximity to the storm

🍭- how tall are you?

6’ 2”

💒- which show would you want to live in?

Oh gosh most of the shows I watch take place in worlds that’d Kill Me, and that includes Galavant but imma still say Galavant cuz Swords + Singing + Dumb Comedy is an ideal way to live. Runner up is the X-files cuz I’d die but I’d die in an atmospherically pleasing way and that’s all I need.

🎄- what is your favorite holiday?

Halloween. No contest. There’s candy, a fun spooky atmosphere, good weather, and absolutely no obligation to travel home and see family

🍦- what scented candle is your favorite?

I’ve got one right now that’s called Waterfall I think that is perfect in a way I think scented candles should be which is that it makes the room smell imperceptibly good. You don’t consciously notice when it’s lit but the room smells subtly Better

🎶- favorite song right now?

Movement by Hozier

💘- 3 ways to win your heart?

The number one way is humor but I don’t mean that in a Tell Jokes kinda way I mean like you gotta be able to pick up on and run with bits with me and be able to have a back and forth so I guess it’s more creativity in general than just humor but like if you take a joke I make and run with it and send it right back my heart melts, like all my friends are So Funny I love them so much. Other than that kindness and a gentle nature because that means you’re a person I can easily be around and on top of that passion. For whatever. I know people who are super into Silent Film and Flags and Irish Poetry and all sorts of other stuff that I’m not particularly into myself but I love hearing about it because they’re all so passionate about it and they make it interesting with their own interests and Yeah

🍩- current mood?

Weirdly Alive which is strange because I’ve been sleepwalking through life for almost 6 months now

❄️- what is your favorite season?

Fall and nothing else comes close. It’s magical.

💍- your current relationship status?

Single and Staying That Way

📷- a photo of yourself

Here’s one from tonight

💅🏻- do you like being spoiled?

I mean on the level that everyone does cuz doing things for yourself sucks but tbh I can’t stand it because I can’t accept people going out of their way for me

🕊️- 3 habits you have?

1) Pacing. I do it constantly, to the point where it makes others uncomfortable

2) Whistling. It’s my brains autopilot function and probably really annoying for those around me

3) Drumming on things with my fingers

🦄- how do you perceive yourself?

Honestly Not Well. I don’t think a lot of myself. Like I think I’m smart and decently funny and like kinda attractive but I have no motivation and no marketable skills and no confidence. So basically as someone who is kinda Lost currently

🦋- how do you think others perceive you?

From what I’ve gathered, better than I do myself. People seem to think I’m funny and like a good dude to be around. But at the same time I think I’m pulled in so many different directions in my life that I’m not Overly Close with too many people so I don’t think a lot of people think they can come to me with stuff which is sad but something I’m trying to change. Also people come onto me a lot so potentially I’m Hot? Needs more research

🌈- things I find attractive in girls/guys

Well things I find attractive universally are humor, a nice smile, contagious laughter, intelligence, confidence, passion, and sorta grunge-y, indie clothes. I really like glasses. And I’m a big fan of tall lanky scruffy dudes, which I think calls for some introspection on my part as to my Image but that’s a whole different issue

🍓- one secret about yourself

I cried for 2 hours straight after watching Honey I Shrunk The Kids at age 7

🍒- how do you act when you have a crush?

Prolly really dumb. I haven’t had one (that I’ve been consciously aware of at least) for a while but I like go outta my way to talk to them and talk about them and do shit specifically to impress them and all that kinda fun stuff

💔- the reason behind your last breakup?

I’m not Emotionally Prepared to be in a relationship at this stage in my life, I’m not happy when I’m committed like that, so my last couple have been because of my own unhappiness and uncertainty

💬- what your last text message says?

My last message sent to someone was over Snapchat and was just “it’s a concern” but my latest actual Text Message was “That is understandable and I will now be turning myself in to campus police”

🎥- what show are you currently binging on?

I’m currently avoiding TV shows because if I start one I’ll HAVE to finish it asap and I can’t handle that kinda restriction on what I can watch (I’ll get around to it) but the most recent one I binged was The Haunting Of Hill House which is phenomenal please watch it

⛅- what is your morning routine?

Wake up, turn off my alarm, wake up again approximately 3-5 minutes before the start of my first class, sit up slowly cursing heavily, pull on the same pants from last night cuz my belt and wallet are still in them, throw on a sweater, brush my teeth/deodorize, put on walking music, walk to class and prepare an excuse

💗- who do you miss?

Currently not any one person specifically but most of my Theatre Friends have been Super Busy with a show for the past like 2 months straight so I haven’t seen any of them outside of class and I really miss them but the show has Ended so I’ll be seeing them more now

🥀- last time you cried?

Last week my friend asked me if I’d removed a box of old dumplings from my car that’d been there since mid January (I had not) and I burst into tears

🎁- when is your birthday?

September 29 1998

🔪- scariest/creepiest experience?

Probably the time me n my friends drove out to a Haunted Bridge in the middle of the night to “find a ghost” and we didn’t find anything but i was terrified the whole time anyways. Also the time I thought someone had broken into my home over the summer and had to Sweep and Clear with a meat cleaver

💤- date someone younger, older, or same age as you?

Close to my age, which might change as I get older and age starts to matter less but right now it’s a big deciding factor in Shared Life Experience

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