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obsidianfr3sk · 3 years

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five valentine’s day that went wrong and one that (almost) didn’t

@queercreators event 02: romance — [ five valentine’s day that went wrong and one the (almost) didn’t ] [ “Five Things” Fic ] “

dedicated to my dear Reneweys [ @nodrianbcyes @honey-hippie-harper @healing-winston-pratt @alecjamesartino @bluenoctuary-art @everyone-has-a-nightmare ] ♡

Summary: They always managed to ruin their Valentine's Days one way or another, but it didn't matter. Because there was no way they could ruin what the two of them had.Boy, he would like to see someone try.

AO3

Well, hello there!!! It’s been a while since the last time I posted something x’d I know I always say the same thing but it’s true skjdfhkjdfs I started this fic during the first week of febreary when I had this shot of adrenaline and started to do a lot of creative stuff, and originally I wanted to post this during Valentine’s Day, but... the shot of adrenaline passed x’d and let me to deal with this alone.

As you can see for the description, this a “Five Thing” fic. At first I wanted to post each chapter seperately, but idk, it seem a little bit... weird x’d so, here in Tumblr, the six chapters are all in one post. If you don’t like the format, but want to read the fic, you can find it on AO3! Don’t forget to leave kudos and a comment if you liked it:’)

Now... I’m not used to write happy sttuf in general x’d AND I’M LESS USED TO WRITE HAPPY STUFF ABOUT HUGH AND SIMON BECAUSE SKJDFHKJDSF the angst, dudes:))) but I think I did. Like... I actually wrote a fluffy fic:’) I’m so proud of myself dkjfhkfdshjk

Tag list: @the-lady-with-the-pen @chiyuki-hiro @all-weather-is-bad @styeenza

First try

Year 2

It was the second Valentine's Day after the beginning of the Age of Anarchy, and the capacity that the human being had to adapt themselves to the most terrible of conditions never ceased to amaze him. The economy had collapsed, the government had fallen, his school was practically one of the last ones still in open, and there was a “fucking junkie” ruling the city...

But the world celebrated Valentine's Day anyway.

Or at least in his class did.

The teacher had brought a bunch of cardboard boxes, that looked like she had fought with some tramps to get them (which she probably did, they were too many boxes for one person to generate) (unless she was a crazy person who collected boxes). She gave one to each one of her students, took out the last bottles of paint, pieces of colored cardboard, and rusty scissors, and then told them that today they were going to learn how to make a mailbox.

At first, Hugh had no idea what turning a box into a mailbox had to do with the curriculum the school was supposed to follow. It's not like people sent a lot of letters anyway. But when the girls got excited, he remembered that February 14 was something like an important date. And then, he remembered an activity that they did during his first year, when everyone decorated a box for their classmates to put letters and sweets in it.

First year… And now he was in his third year.

Time flies by.

After telling them which parts to cut into (Hugh had to share his scissors with other three classmates because there weren't enough for everyone), she invited them to pick the decorations they wanted to put on their mailboxes. The girls pounced on the pink, red, and even white paint, while most of the boys laughed, saying it was a stupid activity and they didn't want to do it. Hugh felt the urge to agree, but he didn't

He had already tried to make them like him. It hadn't worked for him.

So he grabbed a bottle of navy blue paint, some cartoon bear stickers, some notebook paper, and a bitten pencil. That would be enough to make his mailbox and his cards.

After a while, he started to have a good time. Crafts had never been his strong suit, but he was proud of how it ended up looking. One couldn’t tell his mailbox used to be a cereal box because the paint he used was so dark, that it only needed two coats of it and it dried much faster than Abernathy’s, who had practically finished the pink paint trying to hide the face of that missing child in the milk carton box the teacher gave to her. Hugh realized that she was holding her tears back, and as the good classmate that he was, he told her not to worry, that the missing child could be decoration if she painted him a mustache or something, and it would look very funny. Abernathy, far from finding it funny, acted super offended, assuring she had never met a child as rude and insensitive as Hugh Everhart, and she ran out of the classroom, hiding her face in her hands and screaming like a baby.

Unfortunately, the rest of his class agreed with her, and when it came time to deliver the cards, Hugh did not receive a single one. Although he doubted it had anything to do with that missing boy thing.

They wouldn't have given him anything anyway.

He wasn't sure if they knew he was a prodigy. Maybe they had noticed that it wasn't normal that Hugh had practically broken a chair in two when he placed his backpack on it to get something out, or that he had left the PE teacher unconscious when he accidentally threw a ball at his face while they were playing soccer. The teachers, if they noticed, didn't say anything. After all, that school was supposed to be only for normal kids.

Not prodigies.

But children could be very insightful. Most likely, they did notice and therefore did not want to be associate with him.

Or maybe—

Maybe they just didn't want to hang out with Hugh, because of… that.

Because he was Hugh.

He decided to wait for everyone else to leave before starting to cry (or before breaking another chair, whichever came first). Or at least that was what he was about to do when he heard that someone had come up with the same idea as him and started crying first.

Simon Westwood had never been too talkative. Even before his older sister and mother died, he liked to sit at the last table, not speaking to anyone, and some older kids were constantly picking on him, without any teacher trying to do anything to stop them.

Not that Hugh was paying much attention to him or something.

The teacher practically ran to see what was going on with Simon Westwood, asking him what happened and why hadn’t he finished decorating his mailbox. Simon Westwood tried to explain it to her, but he was mumbling his words so neither the teacher nor Hugh could understand what he was saying.

Hugh didn’t get mad with him though. His mom had died. His sister died too, a couple of weeks later. He wouldn’t be in the mood for doing cheesy crafts if the same had happened to him. But the teacher wasn’t as benevolent as him, and started to say things like she was trying really hard to bring joy to her students, and that she was sure that if he tried a little bit harder, he would be able to enjoy Valentine’s Day, like the rest of them.

“Let’s see what nice things your classmates have said about you,” she exclaimed. But that only made Simon Westwood start crying again.

No one had given him a card.

Like… no one.

And Hugh was listening to all of this conversation, just sitting there, trying to stay as stiff as he could so they wouldn’t notice he was there (as if he weren’t literally right in front of them). Seeing Simon cried like that made him think that maybe he was just acting though when the other kids laugh at him because of his looks, his ratty old clothes (older and rattier than theirs), or just—

His mind exploded.

He suddenly understood why the other kids didn't like Simon Westwood. It was before he was him.

Just like how they didn’t like Hugh Everhart because he was Hugh Everhart.

When the teacher went out of the classroom with Simon, saying something about calling his dad (although he knew they wouldn’t be able to do that, since no one had a functioning phone those days), he took one of the cards he did for his classmates, cards that he never gave to them, and put one inside Simon Westwood’s mailbox/cereal box. He had left his backpack and his things there. When he came back to take them home, he would see the card too.

A voice in his head told him to get out of there before he came back, but another one told him to stay. Maybe Simon Westwood and he could be friends. Maybe he would understand what it felt like to be hated just for the way you were born. Maybe he was a prodigy too.

Or maybe he wasn’t.

He couldn’t take that chance.

So Hugh went home, but promised Simon Westwood (and himself) he would keep an eye on him.

After all, friends were there to have each other’s back.

Because they were friends, even if Simon didn't know it yet.

Second try

Year 9

They were friends.

He had never seen Hugh before meeting him on that alley where Simon got his powers. Like— he had seen him because he was in the same class as him, but he hadn't really seen him. During his childhood years, Simon was more focused on other things. Like being a little depressed and anxious ball with skinny legs and skinny arms, for example.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t depressed or anxious now. Nor it was he had gotten super muscular all of the sudden, like Hugh (he had always been bigger than the other kids, but he practically turned twelve and already looked like a teenager, except for the voice and the face).

But at that moment, he wasn’t depressed or anxious. He felt weirdly at peace.

He and Hugh were walking down the street, thinking about which store were they going to rob that day to get dinner for them and their families, when Simon noticed a couple holding hands in front of an abandoned café. She had dark hair and he had blue eyes, which looked at his girlfriend as if she was the Virgin Mary or something. Then, she kissed him and gave him a small blue flower and a heart-shaped card. The guy looked so moved by the gesture that he kissed her on the lips again, with so much more passion than before.

Simon looked away before they realized he was looking at them, not only because he didn’t want to come off as creepy, but also because he knew how awkward he would feel if they started to make out or something.

“Love is in the air,” Hugh sang.

Simon chuckled. “You noticed them too?”

“I noticed them when she gave him the flower,” he told him. “I had never seen a girl giving flowers to a guy before.”

“Times have changed, I guess. That’s why they don’t feel uncomfortable giving such public displays of affection. Kids in our day weren’t like that.”

“I know, right?” said Hugh continuing with the joke. “They are so perverted. There are children present, for God’s sake.”

Simon chuckled again and Hugh stopped to tie his shoe. While he was there, Simon noticed he was throwing glances at them.

“You know, giving them the death stare isn’t gonna prevent them from being in love,” Simon told him.

“I can try,” Hugh joked. Then, he shook his head. “It’s not that. I just—”

He waited for him a couple of seconds before asking, “Just what?”

He finally answered, “Someday we’ll have something like that.”

Simon frowned. “Huh?”

“You know,” Hugh mumbled. “We’ll have girlfriends and— and all of that.”

“Oh!” Simon exclaimed. “Yeah, someday, yeah.”

But before Simon could keep talking about it (or just develop some opinion on the topic) Hugh shrugged and urged him to keep walking. “I guess. I didn’t even remember today was Valentine’s Day though. They were my reminder—” he turned around and waved at them “—Thank you, exhibitionists, you reminded me what day is it!”

Now, Hugh probably didn’t mean for them to hear him say that. Simon knew him well enough to know Hugh thought he wasn’t being loud, but the thing was… Hugh was always loud. He could be “whispering” and the whole neighborhood would hear him ask Simon if he knew how bars with strippers worked because he did know, and wanted to brag about it. Then, Simon would feel embarrassed, because, in fact, he didn’t know how bars with strippers work.

Simon immediately turned around and realized the girl was looking at them with an expression he couldn’t read. He turned invisible and pushed Hugh inside of an alley, hoping those trashcans hid them well enough in case the guy turned out to be a freaking animal and wanted to kick their flat asses for calling them exhibitionists.

Simon felt the anxiety kicking in, when Hugh started laughing so loud, that said anxiety turn into the need of punching him really hard on the arm.

So he did it. Multiple times.

“Dude, dude, shut the fuck up, dude,” Simon said keeping his voice low (because he could keep his voice down, unlike others), “that guy’s gonna kick our asses, for real. Dudeeee—”

But his voice kinda cracked when he said that “Dudeee—” and that made Hugh laugh even more, so Simon kept punching him, using a vocabulary that would make the most dangerous of gangster blush. And he probably would have kept hitting him, if the anxiety of being discovered hadn't been overshadowed by how weird it made him feel to see his best friend laugh.

When Hugh laughed, his cheeks would turn red and his eyes would water. They could be in the most embarrassing situation ever, one where no one was laughing, and if he found it funny, he was going to do it, because he wasn't going to be able to help it. And it wasn't like Simon would stop him, either. Not at all. He liked it when he laughed.

Even though he ended up making him laugh too. Like at that moment.

Most of the garbage ended up in the drains, the sidewalk, or anywhere else except where it belonged, the trash can. Generally, Hugh always refused when someone hinted at sitting on the floor, precisely for that reason. However, on that occasion, the two were sitting in that stinking alley, throwing pebbles at each other, playing with some bottle caps they found on the ground, and arguing about who would win a bare-handed fight, Wonder Man or Phantom Feline.

They decided it was time to go home when a cat-sized rat appeared out of nowhere, and the two of them came out screaming like idiots, even faster than they would have run if that guy with the girlfriend would have chased them. They ran until they reached Simon's house, all sweaty and tired, their hands on their bent knees and breathing heavily.

Then Hugh laughed again. And his cheeks were flushed again, and his eyes were watery again, and he made Simon laugh again until Mr. Westwood came home from work and told him to go inside, that it was too late to be outside.

Once he was locked in his room, with his younger sister playing in the living room and his father in the kitchen, the image of that guy kissing his girlfriend did not make him feel anything. So, he tried to imagine kissing a lot of girls that he considered a thousand times more attractive, but just when it seemed that the idea was beginning to be something desirable, Hugh came back, with his laugh, his screams, and his eyes, like one of those freaking trains that he dreamed of having the opportunity to stop one day and that never missed a single chance to tell Simon all about it.

The truth was that Simon did believe that Hugh might be able to stop a train with his bare hands, but he doubted he would be able to stop the train of thought that Simon hopped on whenever he thought of him. And he was so ashamed to know that not even the strongest prodigy on the planet was capable of doing that, that he decided to take those memories from the collar of the old blue hoodie that each one of them wore and bury them alive in the backyard of his memory.

Forever and ever.

Thrid try

Year 12

Two months ago, after their first date, Simon told Hugh he would never plan another important date, forever and ever. But now, Simon had let him plan their first Valentine's Day together without putting any objections, proving that he trusted him. And he was happy for him; Simon had always had problems when it came to trusting other people. It was nice to see the other grow to become a better person.

And it was even nicer when you were no longer only friends, but a couple.

So yeah, he wanted to make Valentine's Day special. It was kind of a big deal.

Georgia and Tamaya brainstormed with him places he could take Simon to. They all agreed that it had to be a place safe enough and that it wouldn't put them in a situation where they had to reveal their powers, and by consequence, their secret identities. But then, everything started going downhill, especially because Georgia had some very odd ideas (like something about flowers, a choreographed dance, and poetry) and Tamaya was as romantic as a rock (“Just don't end up nearly killing yourself in front of him, that should be enough.”)

It was February 13th, and Hugh was on his cot, a bit angry at Georgia and Tamaya, not only because they couldn't help him on such an important mission as they promised, but also because they blamed him for their failure, telling him that he "had no imagination" and that he "thought with his dick", just because he thought all their ideas were horrible.

Maybe he should have phrased that better...

Simon and Evander slept on the bunk bed Simon used to share with his younger sister. Simon was taking a shower, so he was all alone with Evander and Kasumi, who sometimes went there to visit her best friend, even if Tamaya told her not to do it because it smelled horrible in there and she would bring the odor to the girl’s bedroom (Hugh thought the room didn't smell bad at all, and if it did, it was because Evander acted like he was living in the street yesterday and had no sense of personal hygiene). But Kasumi didn’t seem to mind, and she spent most of her afternoons cuddling with Evander on the top bunk, while she read an old book and Evander read one of Simon’s comics (because Hugh would join the Anarchists before letting Evander touch his comics).

They started whispering at each other about who knows what, and even though he kind of wanted to know what they were talking about, he was just too tired, so he decided to put a pillow on his face and try to fall asleep. But then, he heard, quite clearly, that they said his name.

And he couldn’t let slip that.

He pulled the pillow off his face, and said, “What are you saying about me?”

They both peered over the edge of the bunk. “We were talking about how you're not good at romance,” Evander replied.

The audacity of that b— boy.

“You are eleven years old," he told him. “What are you going to know about romance?”

“No more than you,” Kasumi acknowledged, very solemnly.

Hugh made his “See?” face and he looked away.

Then, Evander asked, “Why don’t you take him to Cosmopolis Park?”

Oh, stars. He couldn’t be serious.

Cosmopolis Park.

A freaking theme park.

Evander was eleven, all right. His idea of a date was probably something out of a princess movie he and Kasumi watched from time to time (sometimes Tamaya joined them too and she always acted like she was just watching it to make fun of it, even though everyone in the house knew she had a weird soft spot for cheesy princess movies). But Hugh was technically an adult now. He should know better, and knowing better was not taking your boyfriend to a theme park for Valentine’s Day. That wasn’t very romantic.

“What a stupid idea.”

Kasumi got red all of the sudden. For the look at Evander’s face, Hugh knew he had fucked up even before she said, “It was my idea…”

“Oh— no, Zoomie, I… what I meant was that—”

“Don’t fix it, bro,” Evander interrupted him. “You’re gonna make me want to punch you more.”

He wasn’t afraid of Evander punching him because he couldn’t compare a kid’s strength to his, but he obeyed him and mumbled a small, “Sorry.”

The “sorry” was for Kasumi though, not for Evander. If Kasumi hadn’t been there, he probably would have told Evander something like “Oh, yeah? You’re gonna punch me, little punk? Come on, punch me, don’t be a pussy” (and then Georgia would have stormed into the room, telling him not to use the word “pussy”, and they would have pointed at each other saying “He started it!”)

After giving him a goodnight kiss, Kasumi got off Evander’s bed, with the book under her arm. Before leaving the room, she knelt beside Hugh to kiss him goodnight, as to show his comment didn’t cause her to feel any kind of resentment towards him.

Because of course it didn’t. Kasumi was like that.

“I was just saying— Valentine’s Day is also a day to be with friends,” she whispered. “And you and Simon are not only boyfriends but also... you know, friends. I bet that wherever you take him, it'd be magical for both of you. Because you find magic in each other's company, even before you knew you were in love. So... why not?”

She turned off the lights on her way out.

He never thought Kasumi’s tendency to romanticize everything was odd or weird. It was something that he expected from a teenage girl, especially one who has such a vivid imagination. But he also never expected that imagination would help him in some way. And he never expected for her to say the exact words he wanted to hear, even before he knew he wanted to hear them.

She was so wise.

Cosmopolis Park didn’t sound like a bad idea anymore when Simon entered just after Kasumi, wearing his pajamas, and asked him with a teasing voice, “So… where are you gonna take me tomorrow?”

Hugh didn’t know if Evander was already asleep, so he just smiled at him and told him it was a surprise. Simon rolled his eyes and gave him a soft kiss on the nose before getting into his own bed.

It was his way of telling him he trusted him. And relationships were supposed to be built upon trust. He didn't need anyone to tell him that.

As far as he knew, Simon hadn't been to Cosmopolis Park in years, probably before the Age of Anarchy began. It was no secret that the park was currently full of gangs and drug addicts but it was still a relatively peaceful place. At least peaceful enough that the park was full of families, groups of friends, and tons of couples.

Although there weren’t any couples...

Well, there weren’t any couples like them.

He wondered if Simon noticed that small detail too, but when he turned to ask him that, he knew it would be better if he just kept his comments to himself. Because he wasn't an expert reading other people's emotions, but Simon...

Simon looked so happy at the moment.

The two walked side by side, their shoulders brushing against each other's, but their hands tucked deep into their pockets. Hugh was trying to keep his eyes fixed forward to avoid bumping into anyone, but the small chuckles Simon let out every time he saw something that surprised him, made said task impossible. Suddenly, he no longer wanted to avoid the embarrassment that would cause him to bother someone by bumping into them; he wanted to look at him.

He wanted to look at him trying to hide his laughter by covering his mouth with his hand, as if he wanted to suppress some kind of dark feeling, without realizing that his joy was so full of light that it was practically impossible. He wanted to continue to see how his dark eyes, with very long lashes and deep bags under the eyes, perfectly captured the lights of the Ferris wheel and the food trucks. He wanted to see the tiny smile he had the entire time they were at the park because even if Simon didn't smile like that very often, when he did, Hugh felt as if he was witnessing the most wonderful of miracles.

Hugh took his hands out of his pocket, and when he turned his attention back to Simon, he was looking at him too. They stopped in their tracks, not caring that people passed around them, sometimes unintentionally pushing them a bit or stepping on their shoelaces.

Hugh took a step forward and Simon did too.

Then Simon pulled a hand out of his grey jacket's pocket, making him wonder if he was dreaming or if it was really going to happen.

Hugh held his breath and felt the blood rush to his face, along with the overwhelming feeling that everyone around him was staring at them, with the newly acquired gift of recognizing those two faces that always hid behind pair of colorful masks and now were gazing at each other with true devotion. He desperately wanted to know what was going through their heads, he wanted to know if they still considered them worthy of their admiration and respect, and he wanted to know if he had been right when he assured Simon that, someday, the two of them would hold each other in public without thinking it twice.

But then, just as Simon's fingers brushed his cheek, his attention was completely diverted to someone behind Hugh.

“Are you talking to me?” he asked awkwardly.

Hugh turned to see who his boyfriend was talking to. He was a slightly older man, juggling three balls and standing on the table of his own stand. He was smiling at Simon and he had a mustache that quite frankly made him look like a ridiculous comic villain.

“Yes, you!” and he threw a ball at Simon.

Simon covered his face with his hands, but Hugh caught the ball before it hit him.

Who did this guys think he was?

The guy, far from mocking Simon's reaction, seemed intrigued. “Do you want to win a prize, big guy?” he asked Hugh.

Hugh was ready to say no to him in the kindest way he could, when the guy pulled out a laundry basket, like the one Georgia put on his head every Sunday, saying "Laundry time!" in a voice so high that made birds explode.

“You just have to throw that ball you have in your hand—” he raised the basket “—here. And you can win a prize.”

He finally gave him a chance to reply. “No, thank you, we’re fine.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets again and told Simon to keep going. But the guy did not give up.

“I see,” he crooned from afar. “Your dad didn't play ball with you and that's why you don't think you're capable of throwing it correctly. It’s fine.”

Simon put his hand to his mouth as if thinking "Oh, stars, he did not."

And Hugh looked at him as if thinking "Oh, but he did."

If that guy knew who he was talking to, he would probably think it twice before making comments to strangers mocking their lack of a father figure.

So he turned abruptly and threw the ball into the basket.

If Hugh had been a little calmer, he probably would have been able to remember that, before leaving the house, Tamaya had told him that theme parks were full of games that had the sole purpose of scamming people and that one of them was that game in particular. The balls bounced so much that even if they made contact with the bottom of the basket they would jump back to whoever threw it, making them technically lose.

He would also have listened to himself, to Hugh, who told him that it would be best to turn around and get on with their lives, and not to Captain Chromium, who was determined to win that freaking game because he won every single game the world put in his way.

After three balls, the guy turned to Simon, extended his hand at him, and told him, “It's fifteen dollars.”

That was enough to make him lose his mind. Hugh told him that it was not worth arguing with him, but Captain Chromium did not tolerate that people tried to take advantage of him, and he spent about ten minutes screaming with the mustachioed man, until Simon panicked (or lost his mind), grabbed one of the balls and threw it right in the man’s eye.

Then, he did take Hugh by the hand.

But just to be sure they both got out of there before someone tried to stop them.

They ended the evening at a hamburger stand several blocks away from Cosmopolis Park (because obviously, they weren't going to stay there after the show they had put on). They did not have enough money to buy two sodas, but they bought a strawberry juice carton to share and sat on the sidewalk to eat their hamburgers of doubtful provenance, ranting against the man, against the park, and, especially, against those damn balls.

“I can't believe there are people like him breathing the same oxygen I breathe,” Simon commented, before taking a bite out of his burger ravenously. “He had no right to make that joke.”

But Hugh was so distracted by how attractive Simon looked when he bit his hamburger like that all he could say was:

“If my dad knew I couldn't win that stupid game, he would abandon me again.”

Simon frowned a little bit, repeating the sentence in his head until he finally understood the joke, and laughed so hard he began to choke with his food. Hugh started to panic and told Simon he would give him five back blows like he read he should do when someone started to choke. That was enough for Simon to spit his food on a napkin. Both were so grossed out by it, that they started laughing again. Simon hid his face on Hugh's shoulder, practically using his fit of laughter as an excuse to snuggle against him, and Hugh used his own angriness as an excuse to stay right there, telling the entire world to go to hell, and willing to keep doing it forever, just as long as the conversation didn't end and they had to go home.

Georgia and Tamaya would kill them. It was already late at night.

Fourth try

Year 17

It was already late night when they arrived at the motel.

Simon had stayed invisible the entire time they were at the reception like he always did when they had one of those more… private nights out. Hugh was the one who was in charge of booking the room because Simon got too anxious anyway at the mere idea of having to interact with one of the receptionists.

It was one thing for his entire family (or the Council, as they had been calling themselves lately, as a joke) to know that tonight he was going to have sex. Strangers knowing it was a completely different thing.

He still wasn't quite sure which one was more embarrassing, but yeah. It was different.

He only became visible again when Hugh closed the door behind him.

Simon looked at the huge sports bag that Hugh carried with him. “What you got there?”

“Nothing important,” he assured with a shrug. He was smiling like he was a kid getting a bunch of presents at Christmas, and Simon was extremely happy too, so, without asking any more questions, he kissed him on the lips and went to the bathroom to give both of them time to get ready.

Not that they hadn't done that before. They didn't like having such intimate moments in the house. And even if they had wanted to, it was practically impossible to have even a minute of privacy there. The last time he had slept in a room by himself had probably been… never. And the number of occasions someone had opened the bathroom door while he was there were more than he could count. The door lock had been broken for a few weeks but nobody knew how to solve the problem because they had no idea how doors worked. Georgia had tried to implement a serious policy of knocking before entering any room with the door closed, but the only one who paid attention to her was Adrian because the rest of them were simply too used to walk around the house as if they were in their own houses. (That they were their house, but it was more Simon's house than theirs.)

In fact, it was the first time in forever that he was in a bathroom and he didn't have to put his hand on the door, to stop whoever tried to open the door before they ended up seeing him in the most vulnerable of positions, so Simon took off his T-shirt, his jeans, and sat on the toilet, wearing his underwear and his jacket, trying to enjoy his first moment of privacy in a long time.

At least until his legs started to feel cold and Hugh told him that he could go out now.

When he came out of the room, Hugh, who was lying on the bed, widened his eyes. Simon was already ready to hear a flattering comment, but instead, he frowned and asked, “Are you going to leave your socks on?”

Simon looked at his feet automatically. He had indeed left his socks on.

He didn't see anything wrong with it.

“The carpet is filthy,” he replied. “I don't want to get fungus or something like that.”

Hugh found no fault with his logic. “Okay, but take them off when you get on the bed,” he asked.

Then Simon realized that Hugh, not only never stopped doing that ridiculous pose that pretended to be sexy throughout the entire conversation, but he also had thrown out the (probably dirty) bedsheets from the motel bed and put instead one of the blankets they took out of the closet to cover themselves during winter.

So that's what he carried in his sports backpack.

Hugh seemed to realize that Simon was looking at the blanket and not at him, because he immediately said, “Oh, I hate motel bedsheets.”

Simon couldn't help but laugh. “You hate them?”

Hugh finally stopped doing that ridiculous pose and sat down. “You just never know who sleep in them before us, Simon,” he replied, “and you never know when was the last time they washed them. Maybe they— ” he pointed to the pile of blankets thrown away “—are covered on the… bodily fluids of twenty other people, and you want me to lie on them? Is that how you want us to make love? Like animals?”

Simon kept laughing, but Hugh wasn’t laughing. “Simon, stop it!” he exclaimed. “A new class of bacteria could be there, ‘cause— oh, I am convinced that those things have a new kind of bacteria no one has discovered yet, and— ”

And he went silent when Simon put his hands on his shoulders, still with a smile on his lips.

“What?”

“Hugh, have I ever told you I think you're really sexy when you out crazy me?” Simon asked, running his fingers through his hair.

Hugh stood still, looking directly into his eyes. “No, I think you haven’t.”

Simon shrugged. “Well— I think you're really, really, sexy when you out crazy me.”

“Well, I think… I think—“

Hugh could no longer continue his sentence. Even though Simon wasn't doing anything to stop him from speaking.

He was literally just standing in front of him, one knee leaning on the mattress and one hand on Hugh's head.

“You think?” he asked him. “That’s new.”

“Simon, wait, I'm trying to seduce you,” Hugh said.

Simon took a step back, pointing to the bathroom door. “I think I’d wait over there.”

“No, wait—” he gently grabbed his wrist before he could move further away “—I’m starting to… Let me think of something.”

Simon chuckled. He put his knee on the mattress again and Hugh grabbed him around his waist, pulling him close to him and resting his head on his chest, while Simon rested his chin on his head. He had just taken a bath when they came out of the house, so Hugh’s hair smelled of him and lemon zest because they have been using dish soap as shampoo the last week.

That was the kind of privacy that they sometimes lacked at home. He was no longer talking about sex. Simon craved to have him like this, so close to him. Both in their underwear, both in a practically unknown place, and both completely vulnerable, but together. Feeling at home, even if technically they weren't.

Because Hugh was his home.

He was sure he saw him that way too.

Simon was so focused on trying to capture that moment in his memory so that he could repeat it over and over again for the rest of his life, that he was totally thrown when Hugh blurted out:

“I think you have a nice dick, dude.”

Simon broke the hug ... “What?”

Hugh’s cheeks turned even redder. “Tell me I didn't say that.”

He put a hand up to try to hide his laughter. “No, I think you did.”

He still couldn’t believe that was Hugh’s best try to seduce him. And apparently, Hugh couldn't believe it either.

“Then— forget about it,” he stammered. “Let's all of us forget about it.”

Simon realized that he tried to grab him by the waist again, but he moved away just in time, pretending to be extremely offended. “So I don't have a nice dick.”

“Let's just stop saying the word dick, please.”

“You started it.”

“I PANICKED, ALL RIGHT?”

“PANICKING IS MY JOB!”

“I’M TAKING YOUR JOB THEN. AND I’M GONNA STEAL YOUR BOYFRIEND TOO IF YOU KEEP LAUGHING!”

Simon didn't try to pretend that he wasn't laughing, because he was more than aware that it was already too obvious at this point.

So he decided it was better to play along.

“No, don't take my boyfriend!” he exclaimed dramatically, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Take me instead.”

Hugh took him by the waist and pulled him close. Simon didn't try to walk away this time. “Deal.”

But when Simon was about to start kissing him, he diverted his attention from Hugh for a split second, making him realize the curtains were wide open. “Oh, shoot, wait— the curtains.”

Luckily he hadn’t taken off his socks yet.

With quick steps, he headed to the window. He put a hand on each curtain and was about to close it completely when the lights of a car approaching from the end of the street caught his attention. It was a yellow sports car that looked more like a ripe banana than a vehicle.

Shit.

It stopped a few feet past the motel they were at. Out of it came a short man, with scars on his face and thin hair, and a tall blonde woman in a yellow dress, very inappropriate for the occasion. Not because it was provocative thought. It’s just that no one would wear such an expensive-looking dress in such a dangerous neighborhood unless they wanted to be robbed.

Or that they had enough status not to be.

Simon turned to see Hugh. “Hey—” Hugh looked up slightly. “—Come here.”

Hugh obeyed, a little bit confused, after putting his socks on (obviously). Simon had closed the curtains just enough for them not to be noticed but also not so much that they couldn’t see what was happening on the street.

Hugh gasped. “Are those—“

Simon swallowed hard. “Cyanide and Queen Bee in person.”

“What are they doing here?”

Simon had as much an idea of what Queen Bee and Cyanide were doing there as Hugh had, but he responded with the first thing that came to his mind anyway.

“Probably celebrating Valentine's Day,” he replied. “What a shitty place to take your girlfriend during Valentine’s Day though.”

At least take her to a motel. Like I did with Hugh.

“Do you think Queen Bee and Cyanide are together?” Hugh asked Simon.

Simon shrugged. “I don't know, but I know Queen Bee has a thing for Ace Anarchy.”

He had the slight hope that Hugh would take the bait and give him a chance to discuss his theories about Queen Bee's fixation with Ace Anarchy (which he always talked about with Tamaya), but Hugh, despite being very nosy, just kept quiet, watching Queen Bee and Cyanide argue outside the car.

How could that woman walk in such big heels?

“Or maybe Cyanide is the one who has a thing for Ace Anarchy,” Hugh blurted out suddenly.

Simon turned to see him. “Wait, really?”

“Don't be so heteronormative, Simon,” he scolded him. “Plus, I've never been in the cathedral, but I bet that when you enter there, it reeks homosexuality.”

“Dude—”

“I just know.”

And they kept watching.

There was something very personal about seeing two people arguing from a distance, like old ladies peering out of their home windows whenever the neighbors had a particularly loud fight. Simon almost considered it romantic.

Then, Queen Bee tried to turn around to turn her back on Cyanide, but something went wrong with her heel and she went face first towards the sidewalk, letting out a scream that could make someone think she was being murdered, and causing Cyanide (and the two of them) to laugh out loud.

How could that woman walk with those heels? Well, apparently, she couldn't.

The tension he felt when Cyanide interrupted his laughter and turned around as if he knew someone was watching them, made him remember that they were not gossiping old ladies peeking out of the window of their house and that those two were not some neighbors having a little fight. No, they were Dread Warden and Captain Chromium, stuffed into a hotel room like they were fugitives from the law or something, and those two little people in the middle of the street were two of the most feared and powerful villains in the world.

There was nothing romantic about that.

So Simon immediately closed the curtains.

But now neither of them was in the mood to have sex anymore, really.

“We should do something.”

“I'm on it.”

Hugh was already crouched slightly by the bedside, pulling his unmistakable superhero suits out of his sports bag.

Simon was so puzzled that he couldn't even stop to enjoy the… image that Hugh was inadvertently giving him by bending down like that.

“Wait, did you actually bring our supersuits to our date?” he asked him.

“Yeah,” he replied without looking up.

Who knows what kind of demon got into Simon at the time, but a not very family-friendly thought crossed his mind, and that thought was the one that made him ask, “Why?”

Hugh, completely unaware of what he was thinking, handed Simon his clothes and dropped the two pairs of boots on the floor as he sat in the bed.

Only the stars knew how he had managed to fit a blanket, their shoes, and their suits in that sports backpack.

“Because I thought something like this was gonna happen,” he explained while putting on his leggings. “You know, crime doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day the same way we do.”

Oh.

The little not very family-friendly thought hadn't been right then.

Simon felt a bit sick admitting that he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

“Oh. I thought...”

Hugh looked at him, intrigued, and a second later, he understood what Simon was thinking. “Oh, stars, no. I was not thinking about that.”

“All right then.”

Now it was Hugh's turn to watch him change. Simon knew that was what he was doing.

Because he knew his look better than he knew anyone else's.

When he was fully dressed, Simon reached out to reach for his shoes, and Hugh put his own hand over his', to get his attention.

He already had the mask on, but he could see that he had turned red. If Simon had been white too, he probably would be redder than him.

He swallowed. “Unless— unless you're into it?”

Simon swallowed too. But he didn’t plan to answer him right now.

It had been hard enough to put on their suits. They didn’t need to start taking them off.

So he pulled his hand away and started putting on his shoes.

“Hugh, the villains—” he reminded him.

“Right, right.” Hugh brushed off his knees. “The villains. That’s important.”

After making sure the door had the lock on (and that said lock worked), they turned off the lights, Simon turned invisible, and Hugh climbed onto the roof, pushing himself off the window frame as fast as possible so that Queen Bee and Cyanide, who were turning their backs on them, standing in front of the door of an apparently abandoned building as if waiting for someone, did not see him. Afterward, Simon followed him, assuring him that he could climb on his own.

The two remained hiding behind the building's water tank. Well, Hugh was behind the building's water tank, and Simon was in plain sight, invisible, with his hood on and his cape fluttering behind him, making him feel…

He wanted to say that it made him feel heroic, but the truth was that Simon also felt very sexy when he got into this mysterious and threatening mode.

Simon turned his hand visible and pointed at them as if to say "Are we going or what?"

Hugh turned to see them with a frown, analyzing the situation. But when Simon was about to ask him what they were waiting for, Hugh turned to see him, with the same smile he had on his face when he was about to let the world know the coolest plan of all the plans, completely ignorant that in reality, it was the dumbest thing he had ever came up with.

“Wait, I have an idea.”

And in that situation, Simon had to take the role of being the one to tell him that his idea was bullshit and that it wasn't going to work, but he used to listen to his idea before expressing his comments about it. Not only because he didn't like talking without knowing all the facts first, but because may he could go to Tamaya the next day and tell her what had happened in the last episode of Hugh Had an Idea And It Went Wrong.

(They also enjoy episodes of Evander Acted Like An Animal Again and Queen, Realize That Junkie Doesn’t Care About You, Please.)

“Do you remember that song Evander used to sing to us?” he asked him.

Oh, Simon remembered it and cringed every time he thought about it.

But the cringe wasn't enough to stop him from singing the song.

“The Warden and the Captain are sitting in a tree—”

Hugh cringed too. “That one, yes. Stars, I hate it so much—” and he pointed to Queen Bee and Cyanide “—Let's make them hate it too. ”

Simon seriously tried to take his role as the voice of reason in that situation. He let his imagination (or rather, his anxiety) run wild, making him imagine the thousand and one scenarios in which that specific fight could turn out worse than they usually did if Hugh made that comment. Queen Bee would probably call Hugh a "lesbian" (“You have a lesbian haircut, honeybun, accept it”), Cyanide would go crazy trying to find Dread Warden to melt his skin slowly and painfully, everyone would wish death upon everyone, and the only reason the fight would end would be because either Cyanide would finally manage to injure Simon or because Queen Bee’s stilettos would break.

He didn't see how teasing them with an attack worthy of elementary school kids would make the situation worst.

Besides… it was going to be hilarious to see that.

He didn't see why he couldn't co-star in Hugh Had Idea and It Went Wrong.

“I'm in,” he replied, trying not to raise his voice too much. “I'm super in.”

Hugh rose his hand and Simon high-fived him quietly. But Hugh seized the opportunity to take his hand, running his finger across his knuckles. “Okay, but you sing the spelling part, because—”

“You don't know how to spell,” Simon interrupted.

Hugh let go of his hand. “Well, when you said it in that tone, it sounds a little mean.”

Simon rolled his eyes and took his hand again. Then the logical part of his brain (yes, the same one that always insisted on being the voice of reason in situations like that) began to yell at him that he should convince Hugh to let Cyanide and Queen Bee did whatever they wanted, while the two of them did whatever they wanted.

But that the logical part of him had no voice in that situation because the logical part of his brain was not the part that loved Hugh. After all, there was nothing logical in loving the way he made a kind of mini-horn with both hands, took a deep breath, and yelled with all his might:

“CYANIDE AND THE QUEEN BEE SITTING IN A TREE—”

Fifth try

Year 20

K-i-s-s-i-n-g.

That was what he wanted to be doing. He wanted to be kissing Simon. He wanted to be with him, walking in the park and watching life go by in front of them. The birds singing from the trees, the children chasing each other, and the wind ruffling their hair. The day was going to be so perfect that he was going to be able to ignore homeless people getting high on corners or young people dealing drugs (that should be) illegal, focusing all his attention on Simon and how happy he felt that this time, everything he was going well.

He didn't want to be crammed into the living room with the rest of his family, listening to the thunder and the rain crashing down on the ceiling.

But apparently, that's what he was doing.

Tamaya was sitting on the floor, covering herself with her wings. Simon had sat on the other end of the three-seater couch, looking out the living room window with a thoughtful expression, worthy of a character in a Shakespearean play or something. Evander was leaning over him and had Kasumi on his lap. She was watching him play (or rather trying to play) a Tetris game that he had on his phone, putting her icy feet on Hugh's arm, probably without realizing it, and Hugh was on the other end of the couch, first starting at Simon, thinking of how handsome he looked when he was thinking, and then at Georgie. She had been smart enough to sit on the reclining sofa, which gave her the space she needed to cuddle with an inconsolable six-year-old Adrian.

“The storm will end soon,” she was telling him. “The storm will end soon.”

But that was not enough to comfort Adrian. His mother had already been telling him for about an hour that “the storm will end soon”, but the storm just ... did not end. And each time they heard a new thunder, Adrian let out a howl and clung to his mother with more force, asking her to please not go away.

Everyone knew that when Adrian asked Georgie not to go away, he was actually asking everyone not to go away. If any of them left the room, he would probably lose his mind.

He felt the urge to tell him that she wasn't going anywhere. That wasn’t very Georgie. Georgie didn't leave people who needed her like that, scared, crying, and begging her to stay. So since Georgie didn't do it, neither did the others.

It is not like they could have gone anywhere though.

Georgie realized that Simon hadn't stopped staring out the window.

“I'm sorry you couldn't do anything special this Valentine’s Day,” she whispered. Simon blinked as if he were waking up from a dream. “What did you have planned for this evening?”

Simon turned to see him, disappointed. Hugh decided to answer for him.

“We were going to have a picnic at the park,” he replied.

Georgie blurted out something that sounded like “Awww”, and Evander scoffed.

“That’s gay.” Hugh put his arm behind Kasumi and smacked Evander on the back of his head. “BRO, YOU LITERALLY MADE LOSE ME.”

Tamaya laughed and Kasumi shook her head. “I want to play too—” she tried to take the cellphone and Evander pressed it closer to his chest “—Vandy.”

Georgie intervened (without letting go of Adrian). “Vandy, give Kasumi the phone. It’s her turn. And then it's mine.”

But Evander didn’t want to.

“But it only has ten percent of battery left,” he exclaimed.

“Perfect, it's more than enough for Tamaya, Kasumi, Simon, Hugh, and I to get a turn too.”

“Hugh punched me! He does not deserves a turn.”

“I didn't punch him,” Hugh said. “I just hit him very slightly.”

“My brain almost felt out of my head.”

“Do you still have a brain?” Tamaya asked. Hugh high-fived her. “I've been thinking about that joke for weeks, dude.”

“Evander Wade, share the phone,” Georgia said. “I'm no longer asking.”

“No! It's my phone.”

Desperate, Tamaya reached out to take Evander's cell phone, and he stood up so fast that Kasumi ended up falling on Tamaya.

“MOTHERFU—”

A thunder. Again.

Adrian started crying. Again.

And they all went silent. Again.

Hugh took advantage of the fact that Evander got out of the coach to move closer to Simon. Evander didn't say anything to him because he was too busy handing the cell phone to Tamaya, who then gave it to Kasumi. Kasumi refused to sit down with Evander again and stayed on the floor with Tamaya (although resting her head on his knees, as if they were a pillow).

Simon rested his head on Hugh's shoulder.

“Next year will be better,” he whispered in his ear. Simon didn't answer him; he only put his hand on the window, leaving the trace of his fingers on it. “Are you all right?”

Simon put his hand on Hugh’s waist and pulled him closer to him, closing his eyes for a while. “I'm tired…”

“Rest then.”

After all…

Hugh was tried too.

There had never been a day when they didn't have to face a new threat. It seemed that the Anarchists, instead of getting weaker, were getting stronger. Even with the many new allies the Renegades had, no one seemed to have a second of the day to rest. Adrian got more and more nervous when they went out as days passed by, and it was becoming more difficult to calm down him during his tantrums. Even he, who was a child, could feel the tension in the city.

But precisely because of that, because he was a child, he could not understand the enormous responsibility that the Renegades had on his shoulders and that they could not stay with him, no matter how much they wanted to.

Maybe that was why no one had tried to leave the room. It was their way of telling Adrian that they were still there for him.

He was about to fall asleep when Simon pulled him away. His first instinct was to pull him closer, but as soon as he realized that Simon was just standing up, he let go of him.

Suddenly, he looked happier. Much happier than anyone else in that room.

Everyone noticed that change.

“Are you still too tired to celebrate Valentine’s Day?”

Even Hugh didn't understand what he meant.

Evander turned to see Georgie. “Georgie, you told them no hanky-panky in the house.”

“Vandy—” Kasumi intervened.

“Zoomie.”

“Don't say hanky-panky.”

“Yeah, you sound like a grandma,” Tamaya told him slightly punching him on the leg.

Hugh shushed them. “Shhh, guys, let Si talk.”

“No, go on, guys—” Simon told them “—Let us show you.”

And he held out his hand.

Obviously, Hugh accepted it.

He had no idea what Simon was planning to do, but he wasn't too tired not to celebrate Valentine's.

He was never too tired of him.

Adrian immediately reacted to this. “Hey, no, don't go...” he cried, stretching his little arms towards them.

Luckily, Simon looked like he already had that covered.

“We're not going anywhere, Adrian,” Simon assured him. “You are coming with us.”

Adrian and Georgie's eyes widened at the same time.

“Me?” Adrian asked pointing to himself.

“You,” Simon replied, confidently. “But it's a very special mission,” he added in a lower voice, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You can't tell anyone.”

Adrian rubbed his eyes and Georgie looked up at the ceiling as if she were making sure a new leak hadn't magically appeared. Tamaya, on the contrary, didn't understand, and she stared at the scene, very intrigued by Simon's plan too. Luckily, Georgie noticed it, and with a frantic movement of her hand, told her to stop staring. Hugh made the same move, but this time, directed at Kasumi and Evander.

When Adrian opened his eyes again, everyone but the two of them was pretending they weren't listening to the conversation.

“What mission is it?” Adrian asked in a thin voice.

“Look, we can't go out to celebrate Valentine's Day,” Simon explained, “but what we can do is bring Valentine's Day here with us.”

Adrian looked puzzled.

“Hey, but you're going to need a superhero name to be able to participate in the mission,” Hugh commented, trying to get Adrian more interested. “Do you have any ideas?”

Simon scratched his beard, thinking. “Hmm, very good question, my dear Captain,” he commented. “Maybe—”

“Oh, I know what superhero name I'll have,” Adrian exclaimed, grabbing Simon by the cheeks. “Hey, your beard feels funny.”

Simon grabbed him by the cheeks too. “What’s your superhero name, then?”

Adrian whispered it in his ear and Simon's face lit up. “It's a perfect name, Adrian.”

Adrian shushed him. “Shh, don't say my real name! I have to use my superhero name, remember? It's a mission.”

Evander scoffed again and Kasumi shushed him immediately.

“And can he tell me your superhero name?” Hugh asked Adrian.

Adrian stopped to think about it. “Yes, why not?” he finally replied.

Then, Simon stood slightly on tiptoe to reach him and whispered in his ear the most perfect superhero name he had ever heard.

Sketch.

Hugh took Adrian by surprise when he graved him and carried him in his arms, making him gasp in shock and excitement. Even Georgie started to laugh out loud at her son's reaction.

“Ready for the mission, Sketch?” he asked him making his voice lower than it actually was.

Adrian gave a military salute. “I was born ready, Captain!” he exclaimed, moving his feet in the air.

Georgie stood up too. “Where you taking my son, guys?” she asked dramatically.

Hugh placed Adrian on his shoulders.

“Don’t worry, mom,” Adrian told her, “I’ll be fine. I need to accomplish this mission.”

Georgie pretended to start sobbing. “No, but you don't have to, son of mine, you're too young!”

“Listen to your mother, kid,” Tamaya intervened. “Stay with us, stay safe with your family—“ and she passed her wings over Kasumi's shoulders.

“Tamaya has two wings,” Kasumi pointed out. “And they're warm.”

“Really?” Evander asked.

But Tamaya’s face changed immediately. “It's not for you, it's for Adrian.”

“GO WITH THEM, LITTLE SKETCH, GO!” Evander yelled standing up on the sofa. “GO SAVE VALENTINE’S DAY!”

That was enough for Adrian. He kissed his mother on the cheek and told her that he would be back soon. Then the three of them began their journey to the kitchen while the others stayed in the living room.

Simon pulled out a bag of bread from the refrigerator and asked Hugh to pass him the peanut and hazelnut butter jars from the cupboard. Adrian took it upon himself to count the remaining loaves of bread and separate them into pairs, spreading them on the table. Simon encouraged him to count how many pairs there were and Hugh had no problem helping him when he got stuck at number five. Then Simon toasted them on the stove, and he allowed Adrian to pile them up like a tower on a red ceramic plate.

When it was time to make the sandwiches, Simon and Hugh sat at different ends of the table, each holding a butter knife. Simon would spread peanut butter on one of the loaves, Hugh would spread hazelnut on the other, and Adrian would gather them together and wrap them the best he could in a napkin, before putting them in a makeshift basket that Kasumi had made long ago.

“Mommy, no!” yelled Adrian when Georgie dared to enter the kitchen. “It's a secret mission!”

“Don’t worry, don’t mind me,” she told them pretending not to notice what they were doing. “I'm just gonna prepare myself some strawberry milk.”

As soon as Adrian looked away, Georgie winked at Hugh. And Hugh winked back.

“I think we're done with this mission now,” he replied using that ridiculously deep voice again. “You have to break the news to the rest of the team, Sketch.”

Adrian jumped out of his chair and practically ran into the living room, holding the basket with sandwiches in his hand.

The three of them had been so into their mission, they didn't realize that the others had put several blankets on the floor and Tamaya was cursing under her breath for being unable to use a lighter to turn on the candles. Kasumi approached Adrian, with a VHS in each of her hands, asking him which movie he would like to see, and Evander came over too, but to try and tell Adrian to pick the action movie, not the romance movie the girls wanted to see.

Simon seemed like he wanted to join the conversation too, but Hugh thought he had done enough. And he meant it in a good way. So he took him by the hand and they lied down on the couch, not caring that perhaps one of the others wanted to sit on it.

Adrian had already chosen the movie (he chose the period drama over the action movie, thankfully) when Georgie walked into the living room with a stack of plastic cups under her arm and a jug half full of strawberry milk, carrying it as it were a trophy. During her birthday, everyone in the house had raised money to buy her a huge pot of strawberry milk powder, which they made her promise that she would not share.

Some promises could not be kept.

The adults got two sandwiches each, but Adrian had practically all of the strawberry milk. Throughout the movie, Kasumi was sighing and muttering how much she wanted to wear a dress like the one the main character wore in the movie during that elegant dinner. From to time, Tamaya frowned and muttered something about how problematic she found a line or scene. Georgie braided their hair and when she finished, she would undo the braid and start over, laughing out loud at Evander's comments about how horrible the romantic interest looked and that he did not understand how that was the ideal of beauty that women had. Adrian fell asleep in Simon's arms about halfway through, and about that exact time, Hugh began to notice that Simon was starting to have a hard time trying to stay awake.

He looked adorable when he was thinking, but he liked it even more how he looked when he was falling asleep.

He kissed the back of his head. “Are you tired?”

He nodded slightly. “Yes… but never of you.”

Hugh kissed him again. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“What thing?”

Georgie turned around for a second and realized that Adrian had fallen asleep. She stopped braiding Evander’s short hair (for some reason, Evander had let her braid his hair) and sat on the recliner chair, hugging Adrian like a stuffed animal.

She winked at him once more. And Hugh winked back, one more time.

“Nothing— ” he laid himself more comfortably on the couch and allowed Simon to get on top of him, resting his head on his chest. “—Sleep for a while.”

Simon made no further objection. “You too.”

Hugh did not fall asleep. In fact, he stayed awake for the three hours the movie lasted, even though by the time the credits started, Tamaya was snoring and Kasumi and Evander were under her wings, rolled up, and cuddled up to her. Georgie ended up falling asleep on the couch, covered in the same blanket Simon used to cover himself a few hours ago.

When the clock told him it was 7 PM, Hugh knew it was time for them to go patrol. However, the rain had gotten even worse, and Simon...

Simon looked so peaceful.

He hadn't realized how deep the bags under his eyes had gotten, nor that his face hadn't looked as relaxed as it looked right now for weeks, because he frowned most of the time. He hadn't held him that close either or had the opportunity to give him as many kisses as he had been doing in that time. Not because he didn't want to, it was just ... well, they had been busy trying not to die.

How tiring it was to try not to die.

He knew Simon was tired because, again, he was tired too, and he bet that the rest of their family felt the same as them. But Simon was the only one who had overcome his tiredness and his moodiness to just... make them forget their sorrows for a moment.

He was like that.

Hugh gave him one more kiss on the cheek.

Thank you.

If Simon had been awake, he would have asked him "Thanks for what?"

And Hugh would have answered him, "For just being you."

Someday they would get their happy ending. But for the moment, all he wanted was to be crammed into the living room with the rest of his family, listening to the thunder and the rain crashing down on the ceiling.

He doubted that happiness would ever end.

Sixth (but not last) try

Two years after the Day of Triumph.

Just over a year ago, Simon had been on the roof of the same building he was currently in. Of course, it looked very different from how it looked now. It didn’t have any windows, no furniture, and, obviously, no electricity. It was the vile shell of what had once been one of the most beautiful skyscrapers in the city. Simon was thinking about that when he realized that he did not have a single memory of having seen that place when it was in its maximum splendor and that the only proof he had of it was the stories of those adults who arrived before him.

That sooner or later, he would become one of those adults. Those who told stories of the past to the generations that came after them.

He thought of Adrian. He thought that there would come a time when he would be curious to know certain things that happened and would ask questions that Simon would not be too sure how to answer. Not precisely because he didn't want to or because he thought he wasn't ready to hear the truth; he just didn’t know those truths at all.

Why did people change for the worst? How did the world use to be when prodigies weren’t divided by heroes or villains?

What happened to Lady Indomitable?

How did the world use to be before she was gone?

Then Simon, with tears in his eyes, looked up at the crescent moon and the six stars lined up in such a way that they seemed to form a smile. He hadn’t seen anyone in his family smile for… a very long time.

Because when Georgia Rawles left, she took with her their capacity to smile.

Yet, at that moment, Simon could feel her. He could feel her when he was crying, asking her to please fly again and to help him get down from that skyscraper. He felt her hugging him, keeping him from falling to his knees and cutting his skin with the shattered glass that was on the floor. She promised him that she would never give up on him and assured him that every time he saw the sky, he would find those six stars forming that smile, which from that moment on, would be hers.

Simon didn't want her to make promises, but… it was Georgie. His Georgie. The Georgie who made pinky promises even though she was about to turn thirty because you were never too old for pinky promises. The Georgie who always protected him and never gave up on him, even though there were times when Simon thought she should.

So since she was his Georgie, Simon accepted the promise. As she turned around and rose again to the sky, he wondered what would happen when the city was so full of light, that the stars (Georgie’s smile) faded away and everyone, including them, forgot about them (about her).

But, after all this time, Simon was looking at the stars, on the roof of that same skyscraper that had now been turned into a fancy restaurant, holding Hugh's hand across the table, and noticing that Georgie was still smiling at him from above.

As it always should be.

“Did you ever expect things to turn out like this when you were little?”

He turned to see Hugh again. “What things?”

But Hugh kept staring at the stars. Simon didn't care. He liked to think that the sparkle in his blue eyes was due to them. “Us.”

Simon shook his head, “No,” he answered when he remembered Hugh couldn’t look at him. “Did you?”

Finally, Hugh saw him again. “I think that when I was little, I didn’t know one could be as happy as I am with you right now.”

Simon rolled his eyes.

“I'm serious,” Hugh insisted, taking him just a little tighter by the hand. “I'm so glad we finally made it out.”

Simon leaned forward slightly. “We really did, huh?”

Then, Hugh gently pulled him closer to him, making their foreheads bump and closing his eyes. “And I'm so glad that now, nothing bad is gonna happen to you, to us, and to what we have.”

Simon closed his eyes too. He would have liked to promise Hugh that it would be like that. That this new chapter of their lives, the chapter of getting married, having kids, and rebuilding a city together, was would turn out as well as the last one, when they fought crime, defeated the bad guys, and held hands only when they were not wearing the armors that protected them from the outside world.

But he could not promise that. And anyways, Hugh was not very fond of promises. He said they were very easy to break.

So he grabbed his chin and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before saying, “It's getting late. We should ask for the check.”

Hugh nodded and called a waiter. He noticed that Simon was reaching into his pocket and quickly told him not to do it, that he got it. Simon knew there was nothing he could do to make him change his mind, so he instead just asked if he could get a slice of chocolate cake to go. Adrian would love to have chocolate cake for breakfast.

The waiter returned a few moments later with the bill (and Adrian’s chocolate cake). Simon almost winced when he saw the amount of money they had spent on a meal that hadn’t been that good in the first place (although he did not know if it was because of the lack of ingredients or because gourmet food kind of sucked). However, Hugh didn't seem at all concerned and reached into his pockets to get his wallet.

Suddenly, he leaned his elbows on the table. “Simon.”

Simon leaned his elbows on the table too. “Yes?”

“Have I mentioned you look very handsome tonight?”

He tried to remember. “No,” he replied. “But thank you for noticing. I even took a shower.”

“Wow,” Hugh exclaimed with too much enthusiasm. “Feeling fancy today.”

“I do feel fancy today,” Simon replied, adjusting the jacket he had put on over his pink button-up shirt at the last moment because Hugh had told him that the restaurant had a pretty rigid dress code.

Simon almost didn’t put on the jacket out of pure spite. In fact, he spent all the way ranting about how it was stupid to have such a specific dress code in a place like Gatlon City, and that he bet that the owners of that restaurant, who now were acting like total snobs, had spent most of their lives wearing only a t-shirt and old jeans, like the rest of them.

Hugh, who had been wearing the jacket from the beginning (a blue one), was quiet, listening carefully to what Simon was saying until he blurted out:

“We can do something else if you want to.”

He didn't say it in an “I’m hurt by your comment” tone. Instead, he said it the same way he would tell him that they could watch another movie or that they could get take out instead of cooking dinner. He said it as if the reservation he made was not at stake, or as if he hadn’t been sending him hints of wanting to go to that specific restaurant since New Year.

Simon knew that if he had said yes, Hugh would have taken him wherever he wanted. However, Simon also knew that it didn't matter where they went. They had spent Valentine's in an alley, at a fair, fighting villains, and in a house too small for seven people. And in all those places, he had a great time.

Surely that place was… snobbish, but he could have a great time there too.

After all, they were together.

He was sure Hugh knew that too.

Hugh nodded, agreeing with him. He hardly ever agreed with someone other than himself anymore.

“Is this your strange way of making me say you look good too?” he asked him then.

And Hugh’s smile grew bigger. “Simon Westwood, you are the love of my life,” he replied taking his hand, “and this is my strange way of telling you I forgot my wallet at home.”

Simon laughed so loudly that the other customers turned to see him. But he couldn't care less. He kind of wanted them to saw them. He wanted them to notice how much he was laughing and he wanted them to see him kiss Hugh as he reached for his pockets…

Oh, no.

“Hugh.”

He tensed. “Yes, dear husband of mine who’s going to pay for this dinner?”

“You look good too.”

That was enough for Hugh to realize that Simon had also left his wallet at the house.

The two remained serious for a long time. But then, Simon could see how Hugh's brain clicked in a very strange way, which made him see this whole situation as the funniest thing that had ever happen to him.

He kissed him once more.

They always managed to ruin their Valentine's Days one way or another, but it didn't matter. Because there was no way they could ruin what the two of them had.

Boy, he would like to see someone try.

#queercreators #queercreators02 #renegades #archenemies #supernova #renegades trilogy #hugh everhart #simon westwood #humon #obsi's writs

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seaside-stars · 3 years

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I’m rambling - a thank you letter to Skully

I’m fully aware that the chances of Skully somehow seeing this are astronomically low. His blogs (that I know of) haven’t been updated in years and the only other place I could find him was on RedBubble. But I’ve been emotional about Spook and the ask blogs this whole afternoon and evening so here goes nothing.

Putting this under a read more because it’s probably going to get long. TW/CW for talking about depression and slightly alluding to suicidal thoughts.

Dear Skully! So this whole thing started because I was moving stuff from an old hard drive to my laptop and came across pics I saved from the ask blogs and photos of my old Spook and One cosplays. I’ve haven’t been doing great and for some reason seeing those pics and photos hit me super hard.

For a bit of a background: I was homeschooled in my second year of high school but it was too hard so for my 3rd and 4th year I moved back to Hungary to finish school. While I was there I spent the weekdays at my grandparents’ place at a village, and the weekends at my dad’s. My grandparents didn’t have wifi so all I had was a few gigabites of data that had to be enough for school related things, calls with my mum who was still in Spain, and everything else.

Those two years of my life were without the doubt the worst. It was when my depression really started or at least got bad enough that I noticed. I developed anxiety/social anxiety, too. I cried daily. On weekdays I slept maybe 3-5 hours. I was miserable.

But then I discovered Spook and Rocky and One and a few other ask blogs sometime in 2013 (I’m guessing). Since I didn’t have a lot of data and tumblr used up a lot I had to wait until the weekend when I went to my dad’s and could log in and catch up.

These ask blogs, these characters gave me a reason to hold on just a bit longer, just until the weekend so I could go and see what they’ve been up to. They got me to draw even in that awful time. One of my first cosplays ever has been Spook. And although I didn’t know it then, cosplaying Spook has been a huge step towards realizing I wasn’t cis. (and though indirectly, it was also because of the ask blogs I realized I wasn’t straight either, since i wouldn’t have met the girl I developed a crush on without them)

I was a lonely awkward teen and I made friends because of these characters. I went to one of my first cons as Spook and found a few people cosplaying the other characters. I was so excited and happy and we were friends for a while.

Even after I finished high school and moved back home I kept up with the blogs. I watched the drawing live streams when I could because I seriously loved (and still love) how you drew everything. I never interacted much. I was too anxious to say anything in the streams, I don’t even know if I ever sent an ask, I mostly just liked and reblogged stuff, maybe screamed in the tags, and posted my fanart and cosplay.

Even though you didn’t know me, even though we never talked, you helped me so much and I will be forever grateful.

I don’t know what is it about Spook that made me care for him so much. I don’t know why he had such a big impact on me that even now, 6 years later, I still think about him and miss him. But the stories you created with the others made me happy for a few hours during an otherwise really dark and depressing time. It gave me something to look forward to when I didn’t want to go on.

All this to say: Thank you. From the bottom of my heart. I don’t know where life took you, if you still draw, if you still think about Spook and the others from time to time, but I hope you are doing well and I wish you the best.

Sincerely, Phoenix

Ps: I still have my Spook mask and a tiny Spook sticker and I’m pretty sure I’m never going to get rid of them.

#2spookyteen #just in case #i just needed to write this out #idk why the fuck but ive been on the verge of tears for hours since ive seen those saved pics #then i started to go through the ask blog and the art blog because apparently i like to suffer #will he see this? no. did writing it anyway make me feel better?...we'll see #i really did come back on tumblr just for this huh

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Eighty

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

August 30th, 2002

Emile set down the last box with a heavy sigh and looked to Faith with a smile. “That’s the last of them,” he assured her.

“Thanks for being willing to help me move, Emile,” Faith said. “I really wish my folks weren’t so far away sometimes, but you and everyone else I’ve made friends with have been a huge help.”

“Hey, no problem!” Emile chirped. “So long as you crush your final two years like you crushed them at your last school, you’ll do fine.”

Faith grinned and crushed Emile in a hug. “Thanks. Now, I think you’d better find Remy, because I believe some of the guys in the dorms were eyeing him earlier...”

Emile groaned and nodded. “Thanks for the tip. Talk soon?”

“You know it!” Faith exclaimed with a grin.

January 26th, 2003

Emile laughed a little as he moved the last box from the car to the townhouse he and Remy were now proudly paying a mortgage for. He wiped the dirt from his hands and looked around the empty space with a happy grin. Remy was leaning against the wall with a huge smile. “We’ve done it!” Emile exclaimed. “We’ve officially moved into a townhouse!”

“No more mother coming to bother me, no more Grace knocking on our door or subtly hinting that she doesn’t approve of us!” Remy crowed. “Oh, God, we’re gonna have to save up for more furniture than just a couch, the TV stuff, and a card table, but we have a fully furnished master bedroom, an office, and two guestrooms, and that’s good enough for now!”

Emile closed the front door and sighed, looking around. “We should probably unpack our clothes and stuff soon. Before tonight. And get out enough plates and utensils that we can eat.”

“You take care of the clothes and I take care of the kitchen?” Remy offered.

“You just want full range of knowing where everything in the kitchen is without both of us arguing over the sorting systems of pots and pans,” Emile playfully accused.

“Duh,” Remy said, shamelessly grinning.

“Of course, you know if you sort the pans and I sort the clothes, I get to color-sort your shirts,” Emile said innocently.

Remy froze at that declaration and Emile watched the gears whir in his mind, weighing his options. Remy hated when Emile tried to sort through his clothes, so this would either make or break the afternoon plans. “You know what? Fine. It’s worth it if I get free reign over the kitchen,” Remy said with a shrug. “And if I don’t like your system I’ll just move all my clothes around at a later date.”

“We both know that’ll never happen, but all right,” Emile laughed, taking the boxes of clothes and heading to the master bedroom.

Emile set the clothes down with a sigh, stretching before pulling out hangers and getting all of his clothes in the closet the way he liked them first. Sweaters and sweater vests on the inside, shirts in the middle, pants towards the edges, and everything sorted by color. He went through Remy’s clothes, after, tutting at the state that they were in. Remy had mostly thrown all his clothes into the box, barely folding anything outside his suit and blouses.

Slowly but surely, Emile sorted through everything and followed the mirror image of what he had done with his clothes for Remy’s. As Emile moved the last of the clothes, it became evident that Remy had used the box for more than just moving the clothes, as there were lumps and bumps that were slowly revealed to be knick-knacks. Emile glanced at the bedroom door. Hopefully Remy wouldn’t mind if Emile looked through them.

Emile saw Bones first, of course, and carefully put him on the bed, making sure nothing had dug into or torn the fur. Next, came a small trophy that Emile recognized as being from when all their friends had gone to the dollar store and gotten each other trophies with various ridiculous stickers on them. Emile kept that in the box, figuring that Remy would want to deal with that on his own. There was a small yet valuable stack of comics, and underneath...

Emile blinked when he pulled out a photo album, the cover done in blue plaid, with stickers on the front, slapped on in the way a child might try and be neat, spelling “BEST BROTHERS” in all capital letters. Emile flipped the cover open and put a hand to his mouth as tears inexplicably formed in his eyes. There, the very first photo, was a picture of a toddler with almost-tamed brown hair and freckles, staring in wonder at a baby with a blue blanket and hat. He flipped the photo over and saw “Toby meeting Remy” in loopy cursive written on the back.

The next photo in the album was the same toddler, sitting on a sofa, staring adoringly at the baby as a woman who looked like Remy’s mother pointing, no doubt showing the toddler how to hold Remy. There were several pictures of the toddler and the infant, one where the toddler was holding a bottle which made Emile grin and coo at the photo. There were a few photos of the two playing, or the toddler and another girl sitting and reading while a baby Remy slept in the corner.

Then came a photo which had Emile outright crying. A baby Remy, with unkempt blonde hair was reaching for a slightly-older-than-toddler Toby, foot raised midstep as Toby held out his arms. The photo directly after that showed Toby hugging a beaming Remy, and Emile knew that had to be Remy’s first steps.

“Emile, come on, sorting clothes can’t take this...” Remy paused midway through his sentence, staring at Emile, who glanced back at him guiltily even as he was still crying. “...Long. Where did you find that?”

“It was at the bottom of your clothes box,” Emile said, offering it back to Remy. “Sorry for prying, I was just curious.”

Remy looked at the photos on the page Emile had been staring at, and he smiled. “Hey, those were my first steps. Toby asked for a hug and I just walked over and gave him one.”

“I thought they must be, to be captured on film,” Emile said softly. “How long have you had this?”

“Toby gave it to me that first Thanksgiving when I went back home, a reminder that we’d always be there for each other,” Remy said softly, flipping through the pages, before turning the book over and flipping to the last photo, where there was a beaming Toby and a reluctantly smiling Remy in his cap and gown. “That was the day I graduated high school,” he said. “Toby insisted on getting a picture where I didn’t look completely sullen.”

Emile grinned, marvelling at the picture. “That’s amazing, Rem,” he said.

Remy sniffed a laugh. “Yeah, Toby always insisted I smile for at least one photo for his album. This was his. He had to be about five when he noticed my mom had photo albums in our parents room and he insisted on having one of his own, complete with copies of the photos that featured me and him when I was just a baby.”

“Wow,” Emile said, not really knowing what else to say.

“Yeah. He had one for him and Vanessa, too, but this was ours,” Remy said with a smile. “He was so proud of it, even when he went off to college. He would brag to me about how he would always catch me mid-smile without me realizing, no matter how much I would snarl after I realized he took a photo of me. He loved photography, and graphic design. That’s actually his ideal job. Marketing and graphic design.”

“He went to an art school, I remember you saying,” Emile said. “I was surprised. I would have thought your parents wouldn’t want him to take that sort of risk.”

“Nah, Toby was the golden child, he could do no wrong and he could make anything work so long as he put in the effort,” Remy said, shaking his head. “Once he started showing that he had a knack for art my parents pushed him to continue. You should see his portraits, Emile, they’re works of art.”

“You don’t resent him,” Emile observed.

Remy looked up, confused. “Why would I?”

“You said he was the golden child, and most kids resent when one of their siblings is favored over themselves,” Emile said.

“Nah. Toby made up for the love my parents didn’t give me in spades. They adored him and he adored me.” Remy shook his head again, blinking back tears. “I miss him and his dorky insistence on taking a photo at every big milestone. He would insist on taking a photo the opening day of Sleep Easy, when that happens, and he would have probably gotten a picture of today, too, and just...God, he took so many photos, but I do miss it.”

Emile swiped Remy’s tears away with the pad of his thumb. “Hey, remember what Dice said? He has the city. He has the city Toby is in and he’s asking around for a specific address and phone number. We’re so close to finding him, Rem. We might even find him before Sleep Easy opens and he can take that picture opening day. You two will be together, and get to take so many more photos.”

Remy laughed. “So many photos. I’ll be begging him to stop, and he’ll simply respond with a ‘never.’”

“That’s the spirit!” Emile encouraged. “He’ll take pictures and we’ll cover the walls of this house with them. It will be great.”

“You really mean that?” Remy asked. “You’d really cover the house with photos that Toby took?”

“Yeah, I really would,” Emile said. “Even if he never took a single one of us, which I severely doubt, I would buy his art in a heartbeat to cover the house with. Because it’s a good reminder that he’s there for you even when it doesn’t feel like it.”

Remy smiled softly. “I think there are probably some old home movies of Toby and I running around and playing. We’d go on epic adventures around the house, and Mom hated us climbing on the furniture to do it, but she didn’t stop us until I was about five and old enough to understand that the table probably wouldn’t support my weight if I kept clamoring on it.”

“Did you have a favorite adventure?” Emile asked, electing to ignore the comment on Remy’s mother for the time being.

“Oh, I loved them all, it’s hard to think of just one. I loved being astronauts, pirates, criminals, cowboys, any and everything Toby and I could think up. We’d spend most of, if not the whole day playing in just a single world with one of the scenarios we came up with. That’s what made it so special. Toby would spend hours with me, just playing. There were times he’d spend the day with Vanessa, or Mom, or Dad if Dad was off work. But then he’d spend days with me...and it was like nothing could make me happier. I had his undivided attention, I could talk to him about whatever I wanted. And sure, I could talk to him on days we didn’t do that, and he’d still give me undivided attention. But the fact that he did that on his own, for a whole day, just because he wanted to...it meant the world.”

“I wouldn’t recommend climbing on the furniture when we find him again, but I’ll leave you two be to talk all you want,” Emile said.

“What? No!” Remy exclaimed. “Emile, you don’t understand. You’d be part of that conversation. You’re just as important to me as Toby. I want Toby and you to talk and get to know each other too. When we meet up again, I’m keeping you in on the conversation, too. It’s only fair.”

“And...you wouldn’t mind?” Emile asked, a little shocked. “You always talk about you and Toby together when we go over this sort of thing, and...I don’t want to accuse you of anything, you just...usually don’t include me in the equation.”

“Because I mostly talk about memories and things that have already happened, Emile,” Remy said, not unkindly. “I let you in on those memories so you’re not completely lost when I talk about stuff Toby and I have done. Because we will slip into inside jokes and ribbing each other at a moment’s notice. I want you there, Emile, of course I do. I want the two most important people in my life to meet.”

Emile grinned shyly. “Thanks, Rem,” he said softly. “Is there a reason you came up here?”

“I figured we could celebrate our new home by cooking something, making this place smell like home. You in?” Remy asked.

“Absolutely,” Emile said, kissing Remy’s cheek. “I’d love nothing more.”

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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charmed-asylum · 4 years

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👨‍🍳# FOODIE👨‍🍳

#Foodie, Part 1

Summary: Something happening in Easter Hills. Something that effecting everyone under the surface. Could this just be a phase a trick that no one can shack off? Is this something that will pass with another or can we all be heading for destruction

Declaimer: #Foodie has some curse words, use and mention of drugs, and roadkill. Also, I do have dyslexia so be easy with me!!!

A/N:So who would think after doing a love story I go be switching it up to some sci-fi. Let me know what you think or want to be added to the taglist. Or simple to sit my butt down and stop with the dramatics xoxo Tia

Word Count: 6,336

MASTER LIST

Tagged: @linkispink1995 @weapinggwillowss @strangerfictions

I wish I could remember what it was. Could it be the color of the sky, how tall the grass starts to grow in Mr. Jackson ranch-style house across the street, or maybe it was the air? The way the breeze would flow dance across the sky. I wish I can tell you. Even now even after so many months that have passed, I don't remember. One thing I do know is it started Columbus Day weekend. It was it at once and maybe that why no one realizes it till it was too late. I wish I was stronger maybe I could have done something. Then again who am I kidding?

The seasons have changed but I could still remember the rush I felt when I pelted my way down my street cracked concerted road. I did not have much control in my life but bike rides were all mine. Tomorrow was finally gonna be the day I been waiting for months for. He was finally coming back to me. As I turn into the parking lot of Easter Hills High it was already a full parking lot. The next song started to play when I saw a familiar face across the parking lot surrounded by a group of posters and zombies. Have you ever thought about your soul - can it be saved?

Or perhaps you think that when you're dead you just stay in your grave. I was still playing when tossing over my beat-up backpack over a shoulder.

" What you barbie slut" voice that belongs to the center of the crowd's attention.

Janet was a type of girl that was born pretty and perfect. I always wonder how we became friends. She tells me it is because the sun always needs the moon and stars. I tell her I am nothing but a black hole. There was a time was little I thought maybe there was more to that but after a kiss under the stars, I was lost with the dyer fear of losing her. So we just became what we are now the infinite duo. Her red ginger hair dance with the cool Midwestern breeze as her Mona Lisa's lips playfully move with each word drew more and more people closer and closer.

" Space cadet stuck in orbit again huh" Janet said with her hand on her hip. I smiled with crimson color coming across my cheeks as I close the gap between us too.

"Sorry. Just nerves. Can we talk before homeroom J" I asked not paying anyone around us any attention. I already knew what the whispers were about the same thing it always is why. She crocks her pear shape face to the side and her hazel eyes stare into my brown ones. That was another thing we just got each other. She was the fun bi sexual goddesses I was just me the girl who happens to have gotten lucky.

Without a word, she licks her lips then places two fingers in her mouth to make a V and whistle for her things which a freshman was holding her. After a simple wink and kiss on the cheek to that freshman, she walks off with us being hand and hand to our spot.

I look around before sitting on the swing and watch as she pops a few of her mom Dextromethorphan like it was a mint. With a big smile, she jumps onto the swing and kick back her feet and smiled. I wish I was like her ability to be free able to kick back and not care but I never was given that ability given that chance. Her long hair moves with her back and forth as she sings Katy Perry off-key.

" Thank I, huh I been thinking. I think I'm ready to you know with KP" I blur out with my hands cling to the chains for my life. My eyes close shut till I was seeing rainbow loading wheels across my eyes sight. SLAP " What the hill billy hell. That hurt" I said opening my eyes wide and rub my thigh. Janet shook her head and look like me I had 101 heads attach to my head.

" Issac. Are you shitting me right now" Janet said now standing in front of me. Her hazel eyes twinkle with the sun.

I slowly roll my bottom lip thought my teeth a few times before I look up at her like a kid who had her hand in the cookie jar with chocolate all over my face. She got closer and stop me so I have to look at her. I hated how she gets me to talk when I was not ready to. I dazed out to pass her to the tall grass that sways with the wind. Right before that was a raccoon who has been a sacrifice to the roadkill gods.

" Yes. We have been together for three half years and I'm gonna be 18 in a few months. I don't want to lose him. I mean he already talks about marriage and stuff. How we are meant to be with one another. Him in the war what if he does not make it. Next time. I am just thinking about it. I never do anything. Janet Florence Bates. Either I am too chicken scraps about it or I can die. I am so sick of living out in this world in a bubble" I said finally looking to those Friday afternoon hazel eyes.

She nods and took my hands. Rubbing her white french tip thumb against my skin she brought it up to her heart. " One thing I wish I did was to wait. Remember when we were in seventh grade and I dared to do seven minutes in heaven with Derek Miller. You told me that I was still worth the universe no matter what. Do-" She was cut off with the sound of the second bell. " Shit I need to see Popi before class. Tell them I am using the bathroom and oh it that time of the month" Janet said over her shoulder as she ran over to find her girlfriend.

" I said that last week J" I shout out.

Walking backward Janet thought about it, " He doesn't know how a woman body works". I laugh as I made my way down the busy streets also know as the hallways.

I just made it with a second to spare. Taking a deep breath in I nod to the teacher went to my seat. Putting my backpack on the desk to make a pillow I lean my head on it and look out the window. The once busy parking lot was empty with no one. Corner of my eyes I saw some movement. For a second look like I saw a squirrel eating the dead raccoon. Its fur was cover in a bit blood on its paws and tail. Getting up from I walk over to the window. Still watching the squirrel.

" MISS. SMITH. SIT DOWN FOR ANNOUNCEMENTS" the teacher said taking her out her trance. Giggles and fingers were pointing as I look around. mouth sorry and ease back into my seat look down at my hands. Moments later Janet rush in with a huge smile on her face, She stays upfront to flirt with the teacher taking his glasses and rolling it in her mouth as she explains the female privates. Buzz Buzz.

Mi Amor: Hav fun in school. I see you tomorrow bae. IYL

I look up and suppressed a greedy smile.

Me: Can not wait. xxx.

I smiled and glance outside. The squirrel was gone but so was most of the raccoon. My curl drop in front of my face. My eyes wide as I look around it was not even ten minutes how did that happen. It is only your mind. After trying to calm my nerves I settle and got ready for the day. The thing about going to school in a dead zone is not much happening each day is the same. The coolest thing we had to happen was when Sally Maxfield got fifth place in the nearby town beauty competition. We were the one place the devil probably send folks as a line of torture. Everyone knew each other and marries one another. Grow old have kids work the same jobs your parents or neighbor had. Just so happen my parents two of the coolest jobs. Mother was assistant to the mayor and my dad work as a scientist that was a station out here. They move here when they got married I still do not get that. Nose deep in my latest novel off my four pages list. I felt a few pokes on my back.

" Guess what I heard from Paul in six periods of American History. Looks like the old hag bit the dusk and they just found her body this morning. Guess what with just her body and her 20 cats. God Issac if I end up anywhere close to that kill me" Janet said pulling out her lunch, sushi, and flavor water.

" Lunch looks smaller than last week. Another diet J. I do not know why you do that your perfect" I said pulling out my lunch with a sigh. Janet peak over at me and my silver can lunch box cover in bumper stickers. Janet rolls her eyes and sips her cool water. I took out my lunch: a bottle of filter water, steal tight thing of organic crackers, dried up fruits, and a mystery meal ( as my mom called it). She stops mid-chew and looks at me with doubt and wonder.

" What that" Janet said looking over my lunch. Apart from I wanted to chuckle each day the same thing. Sipping my water I turn to look at her. My legs shielding hers

"It is my lunch crackers fruit. Want some" I said holding out the mystery meal packet

" Wait for a second that fruit. I do not get you. I come with my lunch and you have that. Still, you cover your eyes during the sex parts" Janet asked. My smile got bigger as I nod. Her face still in disbelief.

" Yes. Because I will like to live till my 18 birthday. J. Do not forget the ice cream birthday cake, spaghetti, banana nut bread, or many other times I chance it" I said turning back to the table Janet always got me to throw reasoning away.

" Just be careful that it looks like it will attack you alright. Space cadet" Janet said poking at my lunch to see if it moved. I wish to chance it was a luxury for me but never is, I will never be normal and for that, I am the envy of everyone. The problem goes down to the simple fact of an allergy I have a very rare very troublesome allergy, Eosinophilic Gastrointestinal Disorder. Long story short think of anything fun and add a 99% chance I can die of it.

" God damn it. Did you hear me? The last two periods we going on some field trips to the Coast Forrest for science today" Janet said wiping her mouth. Nodding I look at my half-eaten lunch. "Popi gonna meet us there. She got these new drugs called Trippe that her hook up gave her. I talk her into allowing me to try it with her. Maybe get some others to buy some. It is organic you should try some" Janet said checking her makeup in her little compact mirror. I gentle took a deep breath out and move a few curls behind my ear as I tried to remind Janet again I can not do that. Then she must have seen my thoughts as she pointed to me with her lipstick and said, " It is organic. You eat all that weird shit. What to say that and Trippe are not made of the same shit" Janet said putting her stuff away.

I wanted to tell her no but instead, I said I think about it before she went off to get last night's homework from someone. I loved her with all my heart but sometimes she just did not get me. Crazy how you can love someone with all your heart. Not want anything from it just a simple notion that you will never be alone. Someone that will have your back and would never judge you. No one did but KP ever promises you that.

Mi Amor: I wish you are here. I feel so alone.

I waited a few more minutes for him to reply till I decide he probably was on the plane and could not reach me. Rubbing the back of my neck I close my eyes. God did I need sleep and a bubble bath. Noise rattle my nerves and the never-ending sound of people screaming made me flinched. Jumping up I look around before heading out to the bathroom to finish my lunch. Last year its been like this need want to escape want some time alone. Maybe its fact in a few months I will be graduating. I will be free to be me whatever that was. As my phone alarm ring, I slowly got up from my spot on the floor and got ready to head back before Janet realize I was gone. With my head hanging low I walk over to the sink to flush away any doubt of living any sadness I been feeling. water dripping from my face I look back at my reflection. Brown sugar eyes looking back with my hair full-blown curl thanks to the cold water. My button nose raw from the tears I just finished having. Taking another breath in I grab the end of my dress and rub my face.

The ride to Coast Forrest was roughly 15 minutes long. Janet was sitting next to Popi kissing like horny rabbits and I sat beside them by the window. Popi cool. She wears her hair short blonde with pink tips pixie cut with random drunken mistakes to remind her you only live once and a nose ring with a lip tattoo that said suck it. At first, she did like me worried I was trying to take Janet away till I reassure her what I and Janet have will always be a deep unbreakable friendship and I was happy with KP. Once I asked her if she can do a sharpie tattoo out of pure boredom she grew a flower crown on my wist. Which she now does every time she sees me. My arm the blanket canvas for her crazy thoughts. Colors change as I wave my hands up and down as if I was fish in the open water.

Coming out for air Janet smirk at me and whisper into Popi's ear. With a nod, Popi took out her bag and hand Janet something when no one but me was looking.

" So I heard you might be adventuring out my young grasshopper. Finally going to get some action huh" Popi said sniffing her nose-wiping away the last bit of blow she did before getting on the bus. I peak over to Janet who just whistles and spoke to a random person behind us.

" Maybe. YOYO right" I said licking my bottom lip

" God Smith you something. So fucking cute. little puppet" Popi said pinching my arm.

" Tell her about Trippe baby" Janet added.

" Thanks, angel. Huh, so what my guy told me this is some top-shelf shit. Like the best of the best only take. I am talking mob cartel you name it and its all made on some hippie compound. I am one of the first to have it" Popi pointed out proud of herself. She took one out and handed it to me.

" How do you take it. I never sniff anything before. Or put anything up my butt" I asked curiously.

Janet giggles at my response and hugs over to speak to me without anyone hearing us." From what Popi heard it pretty much either end type of drug but oral tends to work find. The away only thing we want poking you in the but is Kindred Phillip Richards thick long penis" Janet laugh.

It was small and look like something out a Candy land world. The packing was the neon pick with a smiley face with its tongue out and eyes cross out. As I play with it looking at it closer it had a strange symbol on it. Inside the little baggie was a pill shape drug with what looks to be a liquid power inside. While Popi was trying to talk a boy into a threesome with Janet and herself. I snatch a picture on my Polaroid camera and stuff it in my pocket. I look at it once more. It was inviting but apart of me was not sure. Kind of like it was a candy a treat. Last time I tried something Janet said it was alright. I end up in ICU for two months. Everything around her tone out as she kept playing with this drug in her hands. Very own mystery. What made this so special so welcoming. Bring it closer to my nose I let it linger see if I can figure what it was made off. I had a nose for such things. Lana Del Rey plays on my head as I play with it. It was organic maybe it was safe to do it.

" We are here. I have to make a phone call. So just take a paper and start feeling it out" Mr. Lopez said. He was probably going to scream at his soon to be ex-wife who ran off with their younger babysitter last week.

Second, he left everything to reassure. Loud noises left and right. Booming. Popi look at me and took the drug out my hand and gave Janet the nod. Show Time. Janet gave both of use a wink before she swings herself up to stand on the seat Dead Poet Society style. Flipping her hair she screams HEY. Everyone's eyes shift to Janet quite waiting on her hand and foot. With a wolf grind, she grabs up the drug and tosses it up and down in the air.

" Alright shit brains and posers. I got here the upcoming stuff that every one that is hot now is doing. Actors athletes business people and even world leaders. This stuff here is told to make oxy look like a sugar-free candy. This stuff is fully organic and to give you a ride of your life. Once you have it once you never find anything to get you this fuck up ever again. Word around this Trippe would put you on a ride you will never forget So who wanna party" Janet said jumping down to the ground with her hands up above her head. I was the first to clap much sooner then I should of. Most look at me and I turn and look outside at Mr. Lopez on the verge of tears. Everyone was shouting not wanting to be left out wanting in on the mystery on the trend. As Popi passed it out Janet took the money stuffing it into her bra. Till everyone had one. All glee with excitement thrilled to do it.

" Hey, you ready" Janet asked. I look at her and went to grab some money taking out a twenty I slowly hand it to her. They all went to take it and as I am about to take it I stop and shoot up. My breathing got short and I clench to the seat trying to catch it. I felt tears as a minor panic attack was coming ahead. My sight got dizzy and I shock my head crying a silent cry. Janet stops before taking it and looks at me holding tight to my chest.

" I can't I can not take it. I can not take the gamble. J I am so sorry. I wish I could" I said trying to stop the tears. People around me starting to go down on their trip. Some started to laugh like drunken hyenas, a few spaces out like a psychic patient drop on drugs, some were paranoid with a flinch and rest was a mixture of emotions. I slowly got my things together and try to head for the door. An arm stops me and pushes me back down.

" Where are you going. Come on. Amaryllis. It alright. Just do it" Janet said shoving it into my face. I shook my head no and push it away. I look around everything was spinning.

" I can not do that. You know I can die Janet " I plead to her. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Walking back to Popi she said something to her as I stood still rubbing my arm looking at the ground.

"You are full of bullshit. Issac. Why is it one second your talking about fucking your boyfriend and next to your acting like a little kid? Is this thing you have any real or is it all fake just like you"Janet hissed. I knew she was already high from whatever she was doing but the words still hurt. It made everything hurt ten times more.

Without speaking I shook my head and left the bus. I had to get as far as I could before the tears came down. I tried KP once again but no answer. I don't know how far I was got before I finally stop. Green was cover everywhere like a sea of green. I slowly drop to my knees and allow my hands to become one with nature. I lean back and breathe. Rubbing my hands from the tip of my head across my neck down to my sides. My eyes fill with tears glitter flowing around. I calm myself with words of encouragement. I turn my head to see a few deer and bears running away passed me. Stopping I slowly got up to my feet and look around. I did not hear any birds no bugs. I stalked over where they were running from till I saw it. A dead deer laying in a bed of white flowers. That was not what scared me it was rabbits eating away the deer. It fills me with fear and dread. I slowly step back to I am far enough to run. I ran an ran till I hit a branch. As the visions slowly started to fade images of the dead animals came to mind on repeat. I should have known that was only the beginning

Rain and the distant sounds of voices woke me up. The ground was wet and droplets kept falling into my face. Everything was fuzzy and for a second I forgot where and how I got where I am at. Taking a second in I slowly got to my feet thanks to a tree nearby. The voices got louder and I slow recognized it as Mr. Lopez. How long have I been out?

Licking my lips I call out where I was. Till I saw a flashlight beaming into my face. Covering my eyes with my hand the footsteps grew closer and closer.

" God. Miss. Smith. Where have you been I been looking everywhere? For you. I am so sorry. I thought you were on the bus then when we got back I did not see you and your mom called the cops. We have been looking for you for a few hours" Mr. Lopez said smoothing the hair out my face.

Holding onto him tight I cried into the crook of his neck not letting go of his green polo shirt that was too small and a bit skin would peak out. But I did not care I was scared. He slowly helps me stable myself and ushers me to the rest of them. There was a small crowd with flashlights. A woman with fair skin that complements her tall thin body with piercing blue eyes ran towards throw the crowd calling out my name with a man espresso skin and dark short black hair and fitted glasses.

" Amaryllis. My baby" Mom called out as the space between us got smaller. I left Mr. Lopez behind and ran into my mom's arms muffling my cries with her long black hair. I could hear her say thank you to Mr. Lopez but I did not move. I do not remember making it home.

I did not remember anything till I was laying in my twin size bed bundle under my warm blue glitter comforter in one of KP old football jersey. I did not hear from Janet and no one from the class was there looking. I would say I was hurt but the words she said still sting.

" Hey, Amaryllis. Its dad I am coming in" Dad said coming in.

I turn my head to see him walking in with an old antique tray with two small teacups. I slowly got up and look at him with a sad smile. Daddy always knew when it was tea time.

" Thanks, dad. Sorry for carrying you and mommy" I said bring my knees to my chest. He smiled and play with my hair in his hands.

" What happen kiddo. What made you run off like that " He asked. I wish I could tell the truth wish I can give him the full story. But to do that I will put more people in trouble and danger then I will want. So like every time before I lied.

" The kids said something. I did not agree. I went off to take pictures when I trip and fell. I am so sorry" I said looking into the teacup.

" Promise you will never let anyone including Janet or Kindred to disrespect you. Make you feel little" Dad said drinking the tea. I nod and stay quiet as he started to talk about his newest discovery.

The next couple of days I stayed home after my blood work came back off from stress. I hide away from everyone only speaking to my mom, dad, and text and phone calls from KP. I planned not too obsessed but by day two of my week off, I look and look till my finger got numb of Janet and Popi social media. Folks in Easter Hills, New Mexico wasn’t smart. From what was a bus of 25/30 of my peers slowly becoming the whole school in a matter of days. Everyone praising about Trippe. If it was not about that stupid drug it was dead inside pictures of Janet smiling or as of Thursday at 4:36 pm food. I thought about speaking to her but each time by the second ring I hang up.

Mrs. Ethan was the town vet and all-around queen of gossip. We both have a love to talk about the endless amount of facts and news around the world. She had a job and a life I admire minus the gossip and heavy wine drinking. Today she was allowing me to take the lead of performing an emergency C section on a third-place local star Bichon Frise Mr.Fuzzy Bear.

“ Now Issac remembers gentle across right there till your right here” Mrs. Ethan said standing beside me as I slowly made the incision across the lower abdomen. After each step, I ask a few questions and checking everything I was doing was right.

Inside Mr. Fuzzy Bear after the chew toy was this strange clear like glitter goo. I reach down and look at his pupils which were highly diluted for the meds with gave him to sleep. Mrs. Ethan was taking care of some paperwork in her office so I grab a few test tubes and draw a bit of blood. Nothing is more important than checking all your boxes. After I scoop out all the strange goo out of him I stitch him up and put him in a cage for later.

“ Yes thank you. Oh yes. I will be coming that way on the fifth of next month. Thank you let me know when you got the payment” Mrs. Ethan said. After the end of the call, she spins in her chair kicking and cheering out loud.

“ Found some blurry treasure. Mrs. Ethan” I said leaning by the doorway with my legs cross one another.

“ Yes. A seller I know in New York came across a set of six large 1970s green glass Italian Chianti bottles. Only roughly 3,000. He gonna hold it for me for two weeks. Huh heaven, Issac heaven” She said full of glee.

“I thought you just like expensive wine ?” I asked. She once shows me her prize-winning collection of wine in her underground cellar with over 50,000 dollars worth. Even my parents were impressed which is a very hard thing to do.

“ Yes. But honey a girl can never have too many toys and finer things in life. Like that boy toy of yours. Seeing him soon right” Mrs. Ethan said with a wink. Before I could tell her anything she ways already on the phone to give the good news to her husband. I would have told her after my dad ban any date night I have not seen KP yet well besides the two times he hike up the side of the house to my window to cuddle with me or how I cried into his arms one night about how rude Janet was to me.

School felt different from the week I missed. Was it the scent in the air the vibe that was off. Something that did not fit right. Mr. Lopez was the 1st to check on me which I could not hear much of because people were talking about Trippe or what was for lunch. Even Mr. Lopez who acts like no one noticed had a neon pink little baggie poking out from his briefcase.

Me: Save me I feel I jump fell right into the Twilight Zone.

Mi Amor: Baby lmao. I am sure its nothing.

Me: Ur right. Thnx xx I have lunch wish me good luck.

I pulled tight to my backpack and pull right through the double metal doors. I put a lot more effort today in what I look like out of my dresses and overalls with a pair of baby blue flared jeans with a thick black melt and a red long sleeve crop top that wasn’t one from it being two sizes too big. The lines on for food were three times longer than usual. And there wasn’t much talking like there usually is. I just did not feel like the Easter Hills High that I been going to for four years now. What made it more strange seeing Janet hunch over like she was a prisoner. Her hair wasn’t done like it usually is. Flat and lifeless and she has dark bags under her eyes. Worried was not the word for it. There wasn’t one.

“Hey J. Long time no see huh pickle breathe” I said kicking a pretend rock with my black velvet Superga platform sneakers. Janet did recognize me at first no one did. So I got closer and poke her shoulder a few times. By the fifth poke she grips tight to finger so tight I was starting to feel some pain.

“ God Jesus saint Janet. Stop your hurting me” I shouted. Everyone stops and looks at us. She slowly let go of my finger when she saw the pain in my eyes. She grabs a bottle and ran out. I called and ran after her like the good little kitten I was.

“ JANET WAIT WAIT UP” I shouted running after her.

“ Sorry okay. I did not mean to hurt you. Issac” Janet said looking down at the ground. I shook my head and came up to her and lifted her chin up so she can look at me. At first look, her eyes look like how Mr. Fuzzy Bear’s eyes looked. Glazed over.

“Hey no. I am worried about you. Is everything okay? Did you and Popi get into a fight?” I tried to say but halfway my voice started to crack. We had this way and something was telling me something was wrong. “ Janet. I am worried about you and what this magnesium. Janet, maybe we should ta-” I was cut off by Janet.

“ Look I was a 90s bitch to you. And I screwed up. I hated that I said those things. The week you were gone and we did not talk suck. But I and Popi are fine and if I don’t go now I won’t be able to take some Trippe before classes. And it is no big deal it is just a short cut. I call you later” Janet said then ran off. Something was not right and I knew no one but me was going to be able to figure it out.

#foodie #food #gormet #scifi #science fiction #short story #high school #drugs #isolation #anxiety #aesthetic #moodboard #story board #trippy #grunge #pale #fiction #young adult #aesthetics #fantasy

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ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years

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Bad Things Happen Bingo: Worked Themselves to Exhaustion

Heeeey, @badthingshappenbingo is finally underway! @burtlederp asked for Worked Themselves to Exhaustion with Ryan as our POV/Main, so here it is!

Bloodstains = requested, puppy sticker = completed

This is set post-rescue and post-trial. Tagging the crew: @spiffythespook, @bleeding-demon-teeth, and @special-spicy-chicken!

CW: Very little, actually! Some references to parental abuse and implied/references past assault/violence, but mostly this is just Ryan being Ryan

Ryan woke up with a start to discover he’d fallen asleep sitting at the kitchen table, forehead resting on one arm and the other simply hanging loose down at his side.

He still had the mug of coffee he’d been drinking sitting next to him, his fingers loosely curved around the handle. He dragged his free hand up and over to find the ceramic had totally cooled, the coffee no doubt cold and stale inside.

He blinked, lifting his head slowly, wincing at the crick of pain in his neck. What time was it? How long had he been asleep? His phone was buzzing on the table next to him and he blinked, blearily looking over at it. Must've been what woke him. Fuck, was it really 9:45 already?

When he saw ‘MOM’ and the photo he’d set of he and Corrine at the beach a couple of years ago lighting up the screen, he groaned, hit the button to silence it, and let his head drop back to the table.

He was so fucking tired and he did not have the energy to deal with his mother right now. Maybe not ever again, not where Danny was concerned.

She would tell him to get an aide, she was always telling him to get an aide. Move out (you can move right back in the house with Dad and I until you find a place, no reason to linger there wasting your twenties), leave him and Vandrum with a full-time home health care aide.

You shouldn’t feel obligated to take care of him, Ryan.

But he did, and maybe if Mom had ever felt obligated to really care about Danny, he wouldn’t have ended up wearing a goddamn dog collar in western Canada.

Not that it was Canada’s fault, or anything. Ryan hadn’t ever realized how fucking huge Canada was, before he’d flown into Edmonton on the fastest flight he could find, rented a car, and then drove and drove and drove and fucking drove to the police station his brother was waiting in - only to realize it had been more hours upon hours of driving for Nate to get Danny there in the first place.

That cabin in the woods had been literally in the middle of fucking nowhere, and Ryan couldn’t possibly have known, right?

He should have, though. He should have, and maybe none of it would ever have happened if his mother and father hadn’t said all that shit to Danny five years ago about regretting adopting someone who didn’t want to be part of the family business, and therefore part of the family.

They might not see their obligations, but Ryan did. He was obligated, because while Danny had been up in those woods suffering, learning to believe that Denner fucker's lies that he isn't a person, that his body belongs to Denner to use however he wants, learning to call himself a puppy and give up his name and his body and his humanity to stay alive, Ryan had been looking in all the wrong places trying to find him.

He had looked for four straight years. He'd started looking the day Danny didn’t come home from his weird meetup with the older guy he was either just crushing hard on or actually dating, no one seemed to know, and he'd kept looking until the day the cops called and said We’ll know for sure once we’ve done the DNA test, Mr. Michaelson, but we’re pretty sure this man is your brother. He had never, ever stopped looking.

He had leveraged his parents’ wealth and influence to pull together private searches long after law enforcement had given up. He had kept looking even when the cops and the FBI stopped helping them find a living man and started focusing on recovering a corpse one day, maybe decades from now, when some dumbass hiker might trip over his brother’s bones in the woods-

Stop it. He survived. You brought him home. You couldn't have known where Denner would take him. You couldn't have done more.

Yes, he could have.

He had been looking, but he hadn’t looked hard enough. He'd looked in the wrong spots, he had missed clues, somewhere, somehow. What if there had been a white hair in the bloodied car they missed? What if Denner had left a fingerprint on Vandrum's apartment building? What if what if what if.

What if none of it would ever have changed a thing?

No, his mother didn't understand, but he couldn’t ever give enough of himself to Danny's recovery to make up for what he had lost, for what he was still losing. For time suffered and time spent trying to heal.

His mother’s photo blinked away and the phone went back to empty black. Ryan sighed in relief… only to watch it light right back up as she tried a second time.

“No, fucking no,” He groaned, fighting the child’s urge to answer just because it was her, because he loved her, because she loved him. Him, but not his brother. The eternal hidden truth of the Michaelson family - one child loved, the other left out, chased off, and lost. "Leave a goddamn voicemail, Mom, come on."

He'd been up all night, for the third night in a row, and Ryan was tapped the fuck out.

One super fun discovery Ryan had made about bringing home two people who had lived in nonstop fight-or-flight-or-freeze mode for four years was that they never stop getting sick.

Danny's immune system had apparently just checked out at some point and left, and Ryan could usually handle it, but this virus or whatever it was... was bad.

Vandrum usually did his best to help, but he had caught the bug, too, this time. Which meant two grown men reduced to middle-of-the-night coughing fits and all-day fevers, two grown men essentially helpless, two grown men Ryan had found himself in charge of.

Ryan wasn't only taking care of his traumatized older brother who refused to let him touch him, even just to check to see if his fever had broken, but also his brother’s equally traumatized maybe-boyfriend who never flinched or pulled away but who instead stared at Ryan with glassy, frightened green eyes and gritted teeth as he simply put up with Ryan’s clumsy attempts at caretaking in silence, only breaking it with the occasional pl-please let Red sl-sleep, he can’t d-d-do chores today, I’ll d-do his chores f-for him, please...

One more day of this and Ryan might crack.

He's stocked the fridge with all the stuff he remembered Mom buying when they were sick as kids - ginger ale and Pedialyte (did adults drink that shit? Vandrum and Danny hadn't put up a fight when he brought it to them and God knew they weren't keeping any food down yet), chicken soup from the deli in little microwave-safe containers, some Gatorade. There were saltines open on the counter, from the only experiment with solid food either man had attempted since they first got sick.

Ryan had never seen someone throw up saltines before, but at least Vandrum had seemed decently ashamed of himself for it. Danny hadn't even tried them.

It's 9:45 in the morning and all Ryan wants to do is crawl back into his own bed and drift, but if he does he knows one of them will need him, and the only thing worse than not sleeping is finally, finally getting to sleep only to be almost immediately woken up by grown men so knocked out by some kind of virus that they could hardly stand on their own.

Ryan slowly sits up straight, feeling pops along his spine from having been slumped over the table for so long, wondering if twenty-four was too young to have his fucking bones crack when he moves, like an old man.

“One hour,” He says out loud, to no one in particular. “If they don’t need anything in the next hour, I’m giving up and going to fucking bed.”

He pours himself a fresh cup of coffee, which does absolutely nothing to alleviate his exhaustion. He listens to the voicemail his mother eventually leaves, after her third and fourth attempts go unanswered.

Here’s to hoping you’re sleeping, Ryan, and don’t worry, I was just wondering how you were doing and if you had any updates on how Danny and his, um, friend are doing. I can have Mrs. Verona over there to give you a break, poor dear, just say the word.

I was sleeping, Mom, Ryan thinks bitterly, rubbing at his forehead with the heel of one hand as he listens, ignoring for the moment that technically he had fallen asleep sitting at the table like a parent with a newborn and not an adult with a sick brother. Your fucking phone calls woke me up, congratulations, Corrine Michaelson, you’re a gold-star mom today.

No, that wasn’t fair. She was just worried, Mom knew he wasn’t sleeping enough since Danny came home. She was just trying to help, with the offers of an aide or of sending Mrs. Verona over for a day.

She wasn’t trying to chase Danny off again, she wasn’t trying to make him feel like less-than even when he’d only just really started to get his feet under himself again. She just wanted to help Ryan, like always, and was so blinded by it that she missed that what helped Ryan sometimes hurt Danny.

She’d never meant to be awful to Danny, really, it had always just… happened.

Why do you always make excuses for her? Why don’t you just admit it, give it a name, and try to protect him from them while he’s still so fragile and so easily torn apart all over again? He needs someone who can stand up for him this time, and you never have, you always, always let them blame him. You let him run to Eureka to get away from them, so he was in this stupid town when that fucking psychopath came calling to pick his ex up again.

You let them chase Danny away, and it’s your fault he was here when Abraham Denner wanted a new victim. It’s your fault, Ryan, and you have to fix it, so stop whining to yourself about being tired and take care of the brother you couldn’t save when it counted.

You can start by calling what Mom and Dad do to Danny what it is, by calling it-

“Ryan?”

He’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t heard anyone coming, but he looks up now to see Danny leaning against the open-framed doorway to the kitchen, staring in at him with stark surprise written across his face.

The wavy red hair is sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck and his blue eyes are fever-bright, two bright red splotches mark his cheeks. His face is otherwise chalk-white, freckles and the ring of half-healed scarring standing out in garish, nearly neon red in a perfect outline of that fucking thing Ryan can barely stand to think about.

“What’re you doing up? You look dead on your feet, man.” Ryan stands up, slowly so he doesn’t surprise him - Danny still doesn’t like it when people move too fast around him, and the fever definitely doesn’t help with that problem - and sets his coffee mug on the table. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“I’m not s’posed to, to be in th’ bed.” Danny glances over his shoulder, then back, putting a finger to his lips. “Ssshhh. He must’ve… told Nate it was okay...” Danny’s eyes drift, aimlessly, to the side, looking with confusion at the window above the kitchen sink, with the faded, ancient little pleated floral curtain that had been in the apartment when Danny moved in. “That’s not right. What d’you think he did to earn me getting to sleep in the bed?”

Something in Ryan cracks a little more, the way it always does every single time Danny says something else like this, some new piece of heart-deep horror that Danny doesn’t even seem to recognize for what it is.

“I don’t suppose it would help to tell you you’re home,” Ryan says, wearily, thinking longingly about the last few swallows of hot coffee left and whether it’s worth drinking it if it’s not going to even touch the fatigue. “Would it?”

“I wish I could go home.” Danny speaks the words so softly Ryan nearly misses them. “I wish, but there isn’t one anymore. I know all the rules. I’m so fucking tired, Ryan. Are you still looking for me?”

“Danny?” He’s so exhausted that it takes too long, far too long, for it to really sink in that Danny isn’t talking to him at all, but to some memory he’s having, that Danny’s lost in the woods again.

“I wish I got to keep my name.” Danny whimpers the words more than speaks and then slides straight to the floor in one swift motion. Ryan can’t cross the distance in time to stop him and Danny thumps to the ground nearly bonelessly, still braced against the door frame, closing his eyes slowly and resting the side of his head against it. “You have to look in the woods, Ryan. We’re in the woods.”

When Ryan crouches in front of him, reaching out one hand, he doesn’t flinch or pull away, not when Ryan’s palm presses against his sweaty, boiling-hot forehead, not when he feels the rabbit-fast flutter of his pulse in the side of his neck.

“Whatever you want,” Danny mumbles, eyes half-opening, then closing again. “Do whatever you want. I’ll be good.”

He’s going to have to stand Danny up, and he can barely find the energy to straighten his legs for himself. Three days - three days of the fevers that come and go, the coughing that wakes him up when he does sleep, his mother’s worried phone calls, Vandrum being fucking useless because he’s sick, too.

He just.

It’s just too fucking much and Ryan never realized how hard it would be to do all of this totally alone.

“Danny, I’m so goddamn tired,” Ryan says out loud, near tears himself. “I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep taking care of you-”

“S’okay,” Danny slurs back to him. “Go back t’bed. I can make breakfast. I need to do chores… s’time, he can’t see I’m late, he can’t, can’t see-” Danny starts trying to push himself back to his feet, and Ryan is half-impressed, half-horrified when his desperately ill brother manages to make himself stand back up, knees locked, glittering, distant eyes fixed on the sink. Ryan stands with him, slowly, his hands out but uncertain what to do next. “Do dishes. Start with dishes. He has to see I’m still working…”

Danny takes a step and simply collapses forward, but this time Ryan is there to catch him under the arms in an awkward half-hug, and Danny shudders at the touch but he’s too weak to pull away or fight back, too weak to even try.

“Look in the woods,” Danny mutters, and his forehead falls against Ryan’s shoulder, thumping into it hard enough to make Ryan wince. “Look in th’ woods for us. Sssshhhhh… everything’s so fuckin’ loud…”

“You’re the only one talking here, buddy,” Ryan murmurs, closing his own eyes just for a second, feeling himself sway a little, a sort of dip in his brain where the white fog of tired takes over before his eyes jolt back open. “Shit. I, I have to sleep, Dan, or I’m gonna die.”

“Don’ die,” Danny mutters, without moving even an inch. “Don’ die. Mom’ll be mad at me.”

Ryan laughs, and after a second Danny huffs a sound that might be laughter, too, and finally Ryan braces himself, pushing Danny back up to where he’s taking at least a little of his own weight. “Okay, okay. I got an idea. Go back to my room, okay? We’ll lie down in there.”

“I have to start chores,” Danny protests faintly, his eyes dancing around aimlessly again, then landing back on Ryan’s face. “Can you tell Mom to call me in sick today? There’s no way I’m going to school. Abraham’s gonna be so mad at me... I can’t go t’school today...”

“You’re twenty-six years old, big brother,” Ryan grunts as he manages to get Danny’s arm around his shoulder to hold him up, taking his weight, his head pounding. He just had to get to bed. Just that far, not too far at all. “You haven’t been in school for a long time.”

“Oh.” Danny frowns, confused, and when Ryan starts trying to walk, he drags his feet along beside him, nearly shuffling. Their progress down the hallway is slow, but damn it, it still counts as progress, and Ryan can see his bedroom door getting closer with every step. “Did I graduate? I don’t remember that.”

Ryan sighs, taking a pause to redistribute Danny’s weight. He’s going to fall over right here in the hallway, pass out and sleep for a week. Right there on the floor. Maybe someone will drop an omelet or something for him to eat while he’s down there.

Who would make it, though, if Danny and Vandrum are both totally useless? Maybe if he called his mother, she’d send Mrs. Verona over with, like, a fucking honeyed ham or something.

“No, Dan, you didn’t. You were still one semester out. They sent you an honorary degree, though, I have it stashed somewhere.”

You know, when they thought you were dead, when everyone but me gave up.

“Honor degree.” Danny giggles, the sound eerie and unfamiliar, a high-pitched noise he’s almost never made in Ryan’s entire memory. “Degree for honor. What’s honor when you fuck like I do now?”

“If there is a God, may you never say anything like that ever again.” Ryan manages to get his door open, although only barely, and he stumbles a few feet into the room before simply letting Danny fall right into the bed, breathing hard.

“May I have permission to sleep?” Danny mumbles, eyes already closing as he mostly crawls his way further into the bed. Ryan’s heard him ask Nate Vandrum that question every fucking night since they brought him home, with the occasional lapse when he remembers he’s a human being and grown-ass humans don’t have to ask permission to fall asleep.

Just like they shouldn’t have to ask permission to shower or bathe or sit in a chair and not on the floor or eat with a fork or…

No. Too tired to be angry right now.

“Yes,” Ryan says heavily. “Yes, you can sleep.”

“Thank you for letting me sleep, Ryan.” The voice is soft and fuzzy, gentle and grateful, and Ryan fucking hates Danny’s stupid fucking rules and his stupid fucking puppy voice. And he hates that he’s so tired that he can’t stop himself from being angry that Danny still uses it rather than focusing on the fact that sometimes, for whole days, he doesn’t.

“No problem, buddy. Get some rest.”

He watches Danny curl up, turning his six-foot-two body into something shockingly small. His knees go to his chest and his arms curve over his head with his hands loosely splayed over his hair, a defensive position to ward off the blows that might be coming at any time.

He never slept like that before, he’d said to Vandrum one night early on, when they’d both woken up and caught Danny curled up like that on the floor next to the couch.

Yeah, w-w-well, your p-parents didn’t w-w-wake him up with head t-trauma, did they? Nate had said, and Ryan had hated him a little less, in the moment, when he’d seen the guilt written across his face. Nate was always guilty, and he damn well should be, but Ryan had plenty to be guilty about, too.

Plenty to make up for.

And he’ll be right back to that as soon as he gets some goddamn sleep.

Ryan sighs, swaying a little, and finally climbs in, sliding under the covers, unruly black curls falling over his face. He watches Danny, already out, curled up and ready to be kicked awake at any moment.

He falls asleep with one hand out, resting on top of the comforter within inches of Danny, not quite touching him.

#Daniel Michaelson's story #Bad Things Happen Bingo #bthb Daniel Michaelson's story #whump #trauma recovery #angry caretaker #broken whumpee #deconditioning #conditioning #dehumanization #pet whump #recovery whump #hurt/comfort #h/c #sick fic #of a sort #I suppose #ryan michaelson is a good brother

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atelophobicity · 4 years

Text

Top 10 Things You Shouldn’t Do If You Want to Finish Your Thesis On Time

It’s my entry for September! I’ve been busy in consuming new music, films, and kvariety episodes in my effort to catch up on everything. So, I decided to post monthly to fulfill my oversharing Tumblr needs and to exercise my skills in writing in English and putting thoughts into coherent words.

TL;DR of this: things I’ve done instead of doing my thesis for the past year and a half. I’m not romanticizing my not doing thesis self for the past 21 months, but I’m also not dissuading you from doing other stuff besides thesis because god knows, you will need something.

1. Got a part-time job. This was the first new thing I’ve done that really took my time and effectively gave me no time to do thesis. And yet, this was the most rewarding thing as I learned how to get my TIN, accomplish my deliverables, answer to my superiors etc. Looking back, I wasn’t the best employee and I deserved no job offers on the same company after. But still, it was a stepping stone in the right direction. Adulting-wise, anyway.

2. Discover the art of creating.

Journal spreads. I bought a 2019 planner and I couldn’t fill it up, so I decided to turn it into a journal-planner. The art materials I used for to design pages are from old supplies bought back when I was in high school or stickers from the fandom-related events I attended. I didn’t spend money and I was given a chance to be creative.

Sew doll clothes. In K-pop, dolls that look like your idol exists. It usually comes with one set of clothes to dress it. As a “doll mother”, I wanted to dress them with new clothes but buying clothes was expensive. So, I just sewed clothes for them. I made clothes from scrap fabrics or clothes no one wears in our household. I’ve been barely successful, but it’s one of the things that keep me happy and make me feel like I’ve succeeded in one measly part of my life.

3. Purged my online files.

From my high school files. Nostalgia has been one of my coping mechanisms. I was able to be provided by lots of it when I discovered that I didn’t lose my high school files and it was on my mom’s laptop all along. Being able to relive memories while organizing my files was the best hours of that day.

To my external hard drives. Since 2016, I have been a hoarder of online files for so long that I have two EHDs to prove it. This time though, I was able to delete content that was either repetitive or uninteresting anymore. I was able to shave off some of my data bytes and am now able to save new interesting content available online (if I ever find one).

4. Realigned my priorities and consumption of K-pop as a stan and as a person by:

Selling 3/4 of my merch. Unlearning the pride that comes with owning K-pop merch was difficult, but overtime, I have been proud of myself for not falling to the traps of capitalism—at least in K-pop. Also! I was able to buy my own concert tickets with the stuff I sold so it is a win!

Joining giveaways instead. No matter how I can avoid the urge to buy K-pop merch, I still can’t help but want to own them. This is where I discovered how joining giveaways was my next best option. It takes a lot of effort and screenshots to win these things. However, if and when you win, it really feels like winning against the odds. You get free merch too!

Actually spent hours to vote and stream. In relation to the last point, since the main requirement in giveaways I’ve joined are voting/streaming proofs, I have been one of those people who collects points on voting apps or has a playlist of music videos that should be streamed. After collecting and/or streaming, I take screenshots, put watermarks there, and tags mutuals if needed. It’s relatively hard work but there’s a feeling of pride when your idol wins the poll or an MV reaches a certain amount of views and you know you participated in making that happen.

5. Rediscover Youtube. Channels like the vlogbrothers and their associates (Crash Course, Pemberley Digital among others), Buzzfeed’s shows (The Try Guys, Ladylike, Buzzfeed Unsolved) were a delight to watch after being out of the Youtube loop for so long. The platform also offered new niches of content and I allowed myself to be sucked in it. From Simply Nailogical to Ask A Mortician to amazing pop culture video essays like Lindsay Ellis and Jenny Nicholson, Youtube has all it for you! Learning something new every day is one of my favorite things and I get to do it with this website.

6. Rediscover my love of writing. (As if I’ve written anything for my thesis but here.)

Made drabbles. There is a weekly activity on my fandom where we write < 500 word drabbles on any pairings. I have been joining when I can, and through the support of the (small) community (back then), I gained confidence to write one. I’ve written at least four now and I’ve not done yet because I’ve been on a slump lately. But I’ll get back to it soon!

Short story. The same account that brought the drabble challenge created a festival where we write a pairing and write a short story with it. I decided to join the event! Not going to lie, my entry was shit, It was the first draft, it needed a lot of revisions and more constructive criticism and yet, I am still proud of it. It was the first creative fiction I wrote since 2019 and I did it in a day. And, I believe it has potential, so I’m going to review and revise the hell out of it someday.

7. Reclaim my college days.

Reconnected with orgmates. Visiting Elbi for registration and consultation purposes are brightened up by the fact that I get to do this. My first four years of college were not kind to me. I’ve forgotten a lot of things because of trauma and deep sadness that I still have until this day, and when I remember good things, they’re few and far in between. The numbered days I was in Elbi during 2019 were also few and far in between, but they were infinitely better than my academic years from 2015 to 2017. I was able to do the things I wasn’t able to do before (mostly attending Happy Ts and eating in newly-opened food places there) and I get to do it with people I love.

Made friends. One of the drawbacks of being a slot-driven student with no care of my coursemates’ schedules: I didn’t get to establish a friend group. So I didn’t get to make friends. During this time, I’ve accepted that I didn’t have any friends outside my organizations. But this time, instead of a feeling of dread of being that cliché orgmate, I feel relief and happiness because now, I realize that I do have friends from college, unlike the 2015-2017 who didn’t have anyone in college to rely on her darkest times.

8. Appreciated my friends more. For the past few years, I was the shitty friend. I agreed to go on hangouts only to message them that I’m backing out the last minute—sometimes I even straight up ghosted them. I really took my friends for granted. I have been slowly making it up to them by always attending when there’s an invite! I sometimes initiate the invite and it’s always a fun and healing time for me (it was a literal healing time for me as I was depressed during that time). I love them and I’m always thankful for them—and more so now than before.

9. Unlearning things like:

Realizing that a priv (a private account meant to be seen by your mutuals you trust; usually contains unpopular opinions and hot takes on stan twitter) only encourages negative emotions and I must not do it again.

No matter how I tried rationalizing my hate for Jennie when the JenKai dating news happened, I was one of those K-pop stans who hated her because she dated my idol. (I have moved on past that and have started liking her and Rose.)

Knowing that attacking people for what they say won’t make them unlearn their wrong opinions. Not talking down at them and educating with patience is the key, always.

There are still so much more I unlearned and learned where those came from. My main takeaway is: it’s complicated. Sometimes our opinion needs a more nuanced perspective and sometimes it needs to scrapped entirely because it was just wrong. But it is essential so we, as people, won’t be stuck with outdated views of the world.

10. Learning something new like:

Practicing how to do Tzuyu’s helicopter hands until I realized it wasn’t meant for me.

Utilizing Omegle to look for potential quaranflings.

Installing Telegram and uninstalling to ghost quaranflings.

How to do laundry in compliance with my mother’s preferences.

Doing two things at once.

Enough patience to take time and read the laws our government makes every day to know what I’m fighting against.

Optimizing my Twitter lists and now I can keep up with current affairs (that takes a toll on my mental health) then scroll through a fic fest-centric list the next (that helps me forget the stress from reading news).

Learning something new every day has become one of my life goals. Knowing that the world always has something new to offer to me, a speck in this universe, warms me up and keeps me going. And you’ll never know where the new tidbits will lead you. Maybe it’ll help you reconnect with something you’ve known before, maybe it’ll change how you see things, or maybe it’s something new that once explored, it will contribute something new to the community. It may seem small and unimportant but with a tweak in perspective, it might be something worth doing and pursuing.

Looking back at my list, I can finally see how if I didn’t do all these things, I would have probably finished my thesis by now and probably working a full-time job, able to provide the financial needs for my family. There will always be regret that I am still not done until now. But stressing over my current predicament in this time when the world is in its most stressful state yet won’t help me. So, we soldier on and hopefully, hopefully get back to the thesis I’ve been meaning to do.

Let’s get it.

#2020 diary

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artemismoon12writes · 4 years

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Title: Five Meetings

Daltonfic Big Bang; Week 2, Day 6- Met as Kids The First Time the Serendipity Hill Hunters met Dwight, and the first time he met one of them.

March 3rd, 1995

Dwight was the first person Lucas ever met. Well, the only one that mattered. Great Aunt Ingrid doesn’t count as someone worth meeting. Lucas knew he met Dwight before he could even remember what remembering was. He was smaller, fluffy haired, and was fussy. Lucas’s mother told him he had never been a fussy baby; he even shared his toys! Dwight shared as well, but he made sure his stuff didn’t get broken- keeping a sharp look on it, fascinated with every bright colour and shiny edge, wailing when it was out of sight. Lucas simply marvelled when it was reintroduced. The difference in philosophy made games more, creative.

Picture two babies, too early to even speak, simply throwing rocks at each other until they realized maybe that might hurt. That was Dwight and Lucas.

The two of them seemed to take great pleasure each time they drove an adult up the wall. Agatha and her cousin drove themselves to distraction trying to keep their sons entertained and alive. Mostly, they succeed. Each time the boys found a new hiding spot, the nannies and their mothers searched frantically for the babies. Often times, Lucas led Dwight into fruit baskets, cupboards, and a notable incident where they hid in the washing machine for two hours- giggling and passing a bowl of cheerios.

Their mothers couldn’t help but love them. Their nannies asked for a raise.

September 1st, 2001

Sadie knew lots of people. There was Steven from the grocery store; Yolanda delivered the paper; and Carlson Mackenzie was the security guard at the edge of Serendipity Hill who let them in and out to go to school. Knowing lots of people didn’t mean she could not be fascinated by the boy next to her in St. Ignatius. Mrs. MacPherson sorted boy-girl-boy-girl seating; which got her next to the boy with the pencil case covered in lightning bolt stickers. He looked like the type of boy her mama would pinch sharply, and order to eat three extra empanadas before he fell over in a stiff breeze. What a stiff breeze was, Sadie’s mama would not say.

“I like your stickers Tommy.” Sadie said, treating the boy with a curious look.

“My name’s Dwight.” He said, huffing.

“You’re lying.” She said, pointing. “The name tag on your desk says Thomas.”

“Only my mom is allowed to call me Thomas. I like Dwight better.”

“You can’t just rename yourself!” Sadie said, leaning back scandalised.

“Can too! See?” He said, proudly flipping the pencil case around to show his name in (presumably) his own shaky handwriting. “Besides, it’s my middle name anyways. When we get confirmed I’ll choose an even better third name so no one will ever remember I was a Thomas.”

“Okay then.” She said, contemplating. “I guess that makes sense.”

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Sadie.” She said, sticking out her hand. “You’re going to tell me where you got those stickers, and then I’m going to find you an even better-even better third name.”

He shook it. They hadn’t learnt about cooties yet, and by the time they did they’d already be friends.

September 4th, 2004

New neighbourhood, new school, new day. Morgan ran his hand over his freshly shaved hair, no more letters home about ‘inappropriate’ school attire. He didn’t want trouble. If everyone would just leave him alone and let him read he’d be fine, but it was always them who seemed to find things wrong. He didn’t want to play soccer, or football, or four square; he didn’t want to learn about histories of evil people; he didn’t want to sit through liars in front of the chapel, when his grandmother had told him the only reason he was here with the nuns was the other private school was a ‘bad school’- public was even worse. He had to believe they were worse.

Every new grade was more of the same mean kids forcing their mean opinions onto him. Taking his glasses, stealing his books, calling him a nerd. It was tiring. He lost half a binder of rare Digimon cards to that stupidity (if his mom could read his mind….)

Well, luck would happen that he found someone even more troublesome than him.

“We’re friends! I was helping her with her sweater!”

“Sister Cathy, he’s telling the truth!”

“Missy, you’ll be thanking me when you’re older. Boys only one thing, and before you know it they’ll have you ruined!” One of the staff had a white- and god was he white- boy by the ear, intent on dragging him away. A darker girl with brown hair stood next to the row of lockers, her school sweater rumpled and backwards. “You’re coming with me to the Chaplin’s office to reflect upon your behaviour!”

The girl looked around, frustrated and angry as the plain-clothesed nun dragged her friend away. Her eyes met Morgan’s; she was asking for help. He sighed. Hopefully this wouldn’t backfire.

“Um, Sister? I saw the whole thing. They’re telling the truth.” Morgan spoke up, raising his hand like he was still in class.

She whirled about. “What?”

Morgan stepped back, looking back to the girl. Her eyes were wide and expectant.

“Um, he was just helping her with her sweater. It’s not anything bad.” He paused. “And I’m not lying about it, because if I was then I’d go to hell right? I don’t want that.”

She paused, releasing her grip on the boy’s ear. She looked between the three of them. “I’ll be keeping my eye on you Thomas Perry.”

The nun stalked off, leaving the girl to sigh in relief. The boy only rubbed his abused ear and mutter, “Dwight! My name is Dwight.”

“Thank you!” The girl said, turning to Morgan. “It means a lot! His mom would kill him if he got sent to the Chaplin on the first day of school.”

“Um no problem.” Morgan said awkwardly, unsure of how to respond as the two of them went right back to pulling at the girl’s sweater. “Uh, was I really lying then?”

The two flushed. “NO!”

She dug up under the sweater, seemingly finding what she was looking for and just tearing the fabric. Her hand reappeared with a safety pin which let the slack back into the sweater. “I put it on wrong when I got it out of my locker and it snagged on the pin. Dwight was helping me without ripping it.”

“But you just ripped it, the ribbon charm only works if it stays pinned.” Dwight complained, leaning back against the lockers.

“We’ll redo it.” She assured him, patting his shoulder. “Hey, new kid what’s your name?”

“Morgan Powell.” He found himself saying. “I just moved into Serendipity Hill this year.”

“Oh no way!” She said excited. “I’m Sadie Moore, this is Dwight Perry. We live in Serendipity Hill as well. You must be the new kid in the old Richards house! I knew I read the cards right last week!”

“Cards?” Morgan asked.

“I’m learning Tarot. I’ll teach you!” She said excitedly. “Do you want to sit at our table at Lunch? We’re planning how to get Dwight’s cousin Lucas to tell us all about if the Grade 6 Class really is haunted by Father Rodriguez’ ghost.”

Morgan smiled. “I’d like that.” He meant it.

February 14th, 2011

Laura Bancroft didn’t have time to glare at Dwight Houston; she was worrying about bigger things than a boy who couldn’t even apologize when he ran into her.

“Did you see that?” She hissed, nodding to the pair she’d been following around. Justin said he was one of their new Hanovers. She didn’t trust him. She’d heard rumours about Houston, he had to sense something wrong with the kid.

“Yeah.” Dwight sounded unsure. Not helpful. “Do you know him?”

“Julian Larson, if the talking fangirls are to be trusted.” She zeroed in on her target, hiding behind the table to avoid detection. “That boy over there, he’s Adam. My brother says he’s a Hanover like him.”

“Well don’t you think he’s a little strange, that Adam guy…” Dwight started.

Laura could have cheered. Yes! Excellent! He got it. Dwight glanced back to her, “And I don’t expect you’d understand, coming from Windsor we-”

She cut him off. “You don’t know many Hanovers do you?”

This just might work.

July 23rd, 2001

“Tommy, sweetie, do you want to hold him?” His mother whispered, holding the bundle in her arms.

Dwight looked at the baby, then back to his mother. “Can I?”

He didn’t know if he could. He was so small. What if he broke him?

“Go on kiddo,” his dad said, patting him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Just support his head…”

Dwight felt nervous. This was his baby brother. Brothers were special, babies were special- especially little ones. They would look up to you, and love you, and everything you did was supposed to make sure they didn’t have a bad life ever.

His father helped his mom reach out, placing the bulky blankets into his arms. She was tired, but Dwight wasn’t. Maybe he could help by holding the baby?

His brother was tiny. He didn’t know anything could be this tiny. He had wide eyes the same colour as Dwight’s. Other than that, he couldn’t see much of the baby, making gurgling noises up at him.

“Hi Alan.” Dwight said solemnly, remembering his dad was there and he expected him to be a big boy. “I’m your brother Thomas. It’s good to meet you.”

“You don’t have to be so serious sweetie.” His mom said, hair stuck to her forehead even as she laughed softly.

“He’s being responsible Agatha, I think it’s precious.” His dad said, sitting on the end of the bed; a fond expression at the group of them.

Dwight held on, not allowing his arms to tire even though Alan was heavier than he looked. “I’ll teach you all the best games, and Luke and I will show you all the best hiding spots, and oh! I’ll never let anyone hurt you ‘cause that’s what big brothers do. They protect their little brothers.”

He pressed a kiss to Alan’s forehead, “I promise.”

#daltonficbigbang2020 #daltonfic #oneshot #gen #brotp #owie #dwight houston #shh #lucas walters #sadie moore #morgan powell #alan houston #agatha houston #mr perry #artemiswrites

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marshmallowgoop · 5 years

Note

So have you watched the other stuff Studio Trigger has made (Little Witch Academia, Darling in the Franxx)? If so, what are your thoughts?

I try to watch Trigger’s original series at least! I got tags for Kiznaiver, Space Patrol Luluco, Little Witch Academia, SSSS. Gridman, and the A-1 Pictures/Trigger collab, DARLING in the FRANXX. For some of these shows, I’ve written about my thoughts fairly extensively:

DARLING in the FRANXX

Goop Watches: DARLING in the FRANXX

Episode 1: Alone and Lonesome, More

Episode 2: What It Means to Connect, More

Episode 3: Fighting Puppet

Episode 4: Flap, Flap, More

Episode 5: Your Thorn, My Badge

Episode 6: DARLING in the FRANXX (Outline Only)

Do You Think DARLING in the FRANXX Will Have Several Tone Shifts?, DARLING in the FRANXX Has a Lot of Heart

Do You Think the FRANXX Will Only Operate with Certain Pistils?

English Simuldub

Ending Thoughts, Thoughts on Endgame Couples, Thoughts on Hir02

Episode 1: “And you weren’t frightened by my horns.”

Episode 3: “The hand she held out and the smile she offered to me alone came at a price.”

Episode 12 Quick Thoughts, Responses

Episode 13: Amazing Piece of Animation

Episode 13: Does Zero Two Recognize Hiro?

Episode 13: Zero Two Biting Hiro (and Hiro’s Response)

Episode 14: Reaction

Episode 14: Thoughts on the Ichigo Hate Train?

Favorite Moment from Kill la Kill and DARLING in the FRANXX?

Human/Non-Human Romance

Third Ending Sequence: Lily Flower Symbolism and Ikuno

Why Watch DARLING in the FRANXX?, Would You Recommend DARLING in the FRANXX?, Would You Recommend DARLING in the FRANXX and Kill la Kill to Someone Who Dislikes Fanservice?

X Symbolism

Zero Two: Manic Pixie Dream Girl?

Kiznaiver

Flower Symbolism in Kiznaiver’s Ending Sequence, Revised

Kiznaiver Episodes 1 and 2: Thoughts and Impressions

What is Kiznaiver About, Exactly?

SSSS. Gridman

AX Premiere Thoughts

Space Patrol Luluco

Episode 7

Space Patrol Luluco and Kill la Kill Crossover Idea

Space Patrol Luluco’s Finale vs. Kill la Kill’s Finale ☂

Buuuut I know that’s a lot, so:

tl;dr?

Inferno Cop: Okay, I admit it. YouTube-Poop-styled humor is ridiculously amusing to me. (I once did a whole final project in college about YouTube Poop. Yes, really.)

And the horrible cut-out animation will never fail to make me crack up. Inferno Cop is truly a masterpiece.

Space Patrol Luluco: Hey, I actually finally picked this one up at Comic Con about a month ago! While I wasn’t expecting to enjoy Luluco much, I think it’s actually my second-favorite Studio Trigger series after Kill la Kill. It’s just really cute and silly and fun. As I realized in excruciating detail at a Comic Con panel I went to, most anime humor honestly doesn’t do much for me, but when the panelists showed a clip from Luluco? That got me smiling. Things can get mean-spirited at times (which isn’t my cup of tea), but overall, I think Luluco has some real heart. And it’s adorable.

Kiznaiver: Oh, I was so excited to love this show! I was lucky enough to see an advanced screening of the first two episodes, and I was totally hooked. It was drop-dead gorgeous—and probably the prettiest series Trigger has ever put out—and I was very intrigued by the plot and characters. I remember just coming back to my hotel room at like 3:00 am after the premiere, utterly filled with excitement. I mean, Kiznaiver was directed by Hiroshi Kobayashi, the episode director behind the two episodes that got me hooked on Kill la Kill (episodes 5 and 18)!

But… my excitement quickly died. The story tried to develop way too many characters in way too little time, and I never enjoyed the romantic pairing of Katsuhira and Noriko, finding it shallow, undeveloped, and nonsensical (in a bad way), which… kind of ruins a lot of the series when that’s arguably the heart of the whole thing.

Kiznaiver is still super, super pretty, though. That last episode’s animation got me shook.

Little Witch Academia: I wish I loved this one more than I do. I really, really admire Yoh Yoshinari as an artist and director, and I know LWA is totally his baby, and the animation in both the series and shorts is so good, and I don’t know if I’ve ever related to any character ever as much as I relate to Akko Kagari, but… I just… don’t really have any strong feelings one way or another about the work on a whole.

Maybe my issue is that Little Witch Academia comes off as rather meandering to me. I’ve always felt (perhaps very wrongly!) that the focal point of the story is the relationship between Akko and Ursula/Chariot, but there’s just… so much else going on.

I can relate, though. One of my babies is the first novel I ever wrote and completed back when I was 13. There are so many ideas I have for the story, and I’ve tried to stuff everything into my drafts. But you end up with an unfocused narrative without a solid core when you do that, and I sadly feel that that’s what happened with Little Witch Academia. There’s a lot of good stuff, but it’s just too much for one story!

I will say that I enjoyed both OVAs more than the series, though, and the first OVA is my favorite.

DARLING in the FRANXX: Oh, DARLING in the FRANXX. While I definitely had the obvious problems with this show when it started, the promise of a legitimate human/non-human romance was more than enough for me to keep watching anyway.

But after episode 15… everything fell apart. The romance I was there for became boring and bland, with the leads nauseatingly reiterating how in love they were instead of actually talking to each other or dealing with any of their problems. So much potential character depth got swept under the rug, and to make matters worse, the world building revealed itself to be even more ludicrous than imagined, there were some absolutely bizarre and potentially very hurtful messages about love and sexuality that I can’t even begin to make sense of, and the less I say about the ending, the better.

Of course, a poor conclusion doesn’t always spoil what I did like about a work; I still obviously adore Kill la Kill even though I despise the finale and the OVA legitimately makes me feel ill. But DARLING in the FRANXX is one of those stories where my disappointment is so great that I kind of… don’t even want anything to do with it anymore. The stuff I had loved is soured by how everything ended up.

I still have some great DARLING content in my queue that I definitely intend to post because it’s not the fault of any fan that the final product came out so lackluster. But I’m personally just pretty done with this one.

If there’s anything I’ve learned from DARLING in the FRANXX, though, it’s that I probably should hold off on buying merchandise until I’m sure I actually really like the thing. I certainly didn’t spend anywhere near as much on this show as I have for Kill la Kill, but I still dropped a fair amount on stuff that’s kind of wasted on me.

Live and learn….

SSSS. Gridman: I got the chance to see the premiere of the first episode at Anime Expo last year, but I unfortunately can’t say I was all too fond of what I saw. I’m slow to warm up to comedies, and while I love cliches and the series definitely acknowledges and has fun with its cliches, the characters didn’t stand out enough for me to find the cliches particularly endearing.

Also, there’s absolutely no deep or meaningful reason behind it or anything, but I do not like what I’ve seen about Akane. That kind of character archetype annoys the crap out of me.

But Gridman is really neat from a directorial and compositional point of view; I really liked, for example, how there weren’t just a bunch of boring shot-reverse-shot conversations, but conversations that spent time focusing on the backgrounds and scenery and environment instead. I also feel like I’ll really, really enjoy Gridman if I actually watch it past episode 1, but… I’m bad at doing things.

I think when I do watch it, though, I’ll do a livebloggy sort of deal?

Others: I haven’t seen anything else from the studio (unless you’re counting stuff animators from Trigger have worked on, like Takafumi Hori’s contribution to Steven Universe, which are always excellent, expressive, beautiful animations), but I’m moderately excited for the upcoming Promare. The fact that it’s apparently a family-friendly film has got my interest.

And I got a kool Promare sticker already from Kumoricon last year, too!

#official-raven-branwen #official raven branwen #replies #ramblings #long post #inferno cop #space patrol luluco #kiznaiver #little witch academia #darling in the franxx #ssss. gridman #spoilers #?

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ellistruggle · 6 years

Photo

Memories

@thatsthat24 Pattons Room how I imagine it :)

Virgils Room / Logans Room / Romans Room

(more details under the cut)

at last, Pattons Room! i am really not satisfied with it but i dont know why so I might as well post it. My thoughts on that one were, it has to be colorful, and cozy and i hope i got that right. Also i really wanted to show Pattons Love for the others. and there are many references that he just, has so much love and dedication for the others. since we dont know the next sides yet, i didnt include them. i didnt want to make something up but be sure, if we would know them, there would be some dedication for them in this room as well. Just because Patton loves everyone =) so, are you ready for some CLOSE UPS! WOHOO

so imma put the photo wall here first. I wanted to have as many memories stored in this room as possible. i wanted to make every photo meaningful, deep, and a really big part of Thomas’ or the Sides past. But then i realized i just put too many photos in there for my limited artistic abilities and ended up scratching some ideas. You can see mostly pictures from Thomas’ instagram redrawn badly, some thumbnails or screenshots from videos, some motivational quotes and puns and a really big Poster of the four main sides and thomas =) i hope this works for you guys.

so. i asked which plushies Patton would have in his room. Many of you answered and i am really thankful for that! at that point tho most of the lineart was already finished and i didnt want to change up too much. so there are just a few plushies in the room. The blue teddy was a gift from Logan, to thank him for the comfy slippers. it is light blue with a little pink and Logan thought it would fit really good to Pattons aesthetic.

the clock: since it is established, that patton has no problem staying up until 3am watching parks and rec i made this clock as far away from his bed as possible just so he has to get up to turn it off... it mostly doesnt work and patton still falls asleep after he turned it off.

The candle: you know how Virgil is probably most comfortable talking to Patton rather than the others. so in order to say thanks for the support Patton always gives him, Virgil gave him this purple candle, because the scent helps Virge to calm down and he thought it would be nice, because Patton seems to have some troubled feelings as well. you can tell Patton flipped out and will forever be thankful. (it smells of lavender)

Here are some books where i thought Patton would definitely have those in his room. the three blue ones are written by Logan. (from left to right: words you are using wrong, Why puns are bad, why 3am is a bad time)

the green thin book is his sketchbook, where he writes down why he feels bad, when he feels bad. a small puppet of Virgil guards this section of the shelf.

the others are pretty self explainatory =) ( from left to right: Dealing with fears, Dealing with non happy emotions, how to make gifts, Optimism)

under these, there are more books. From left to right:

Having a Blast with Roman (where he writes down the adventures he and Roman have every now and then)

Good Times with Deceit (another reminder that Patton has really much love for everyone)

Motivational Puns (gotta stay true to the branding)

Learning with Logan ( i think Patton is really eager to learn new things and Logan is glad to help)

Taking Care of Virgil ( i think that is self explainatory)

Logan lent Patton a book on Kant. He currently reads it before bed and a little puppet of Logan guards it. also there is a #1 Dad mug with milk for obvious reasons.

the box under the bed. thats where Patton stores extra paper for new motivaitonal posters and other crafts he makes for himself and the others.

a winnie pooh plushie because its his favorite disney movie, a pink cat blob plushie and a green dog blob plushie on the right side... i needed more plushies for the room okay? (also @pipapatton pointed out, these remind her of cosmo and wanda =D it wasnt intentional but i let you interpret )

also a yellow snake plushie with a bowler hat for reasons.

here are more books.

the purple one on the left: Caring 101 - this book is a guide for caring about a suffering friend . obviously patton wrote that one

perfect puns 101 - how to be the perfect dad (obvious)

Memories and how they work (to understand one of his functions better, yknow... with all the memories and stuff))

All about nostalgia

Moral Compass - Myth or Real? (probably a gift from Logan. to understand the basics of morality a bit better)

there is also the christmas gift from virgil on the nightstand.

a golden compass from Roman because he thought it was funny (moral compass and all)

the small golden book is where he wrote down gift ideas for the others.

the jar - okay so. everyday he gets a small paper and writes down one thing that made him happy on that day. let it be “ate a cookie” or “filmed a video” or just mundane things like “got out of bed earlier”. he then folds it and writes the number for the day on the backside and puts it in the jar. That helps him to stay positive and optimistic about the day. (i did this last year and it was really nice to think about the positive sides of the day rather than what went wrong, i can only recommend =) and i thought it fits in the room

also he has cat slippers for obvious reasons

his desk: its filled with crafting stuff such as crayons, stickers, scissors, washi tape and such. just to be able to make more posters and gifts for the others. a roman puppet guards the desk, so he can be more creative =)

also there is his diary.. i wonder whats written inside ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

here is a lion plushie to represent roman, a blue owl to represent Logan and a black Cat to represent Virgil. he always has these on his bed =)

THAT WAS IT PEOPLE !!! thank you soo so much for all the comments, support and reviews i got for these artworks. they really took forever to make and i hope i didnt disappoint =)

if you like my art and would like to support me, consider bying me a little coffee on my ko-fi page? if not, its totally fine =)

reblogs and comments are HIGHLY appreciated

taglist:

@lamp-calm-sanders @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @xxashwiixx @davidthetraveler @eclectichedgehog @anxiousklutz @i-am-hughesless @missmashmain @romanasanders @aquilacalvitium @ziallwarrior @just-fic-me-up @angered-turtle @sanders-sides-thuri @pandagirl0730 @notalwaysthevillian @virgiliananxiety @alkimara @thesoftestlittlepuffball @grumpymoonbird @llamaavocado @angst-patton @pearls-of-patton @toujours-fidele @teacupfulofstarshine @mandeebobandee @praiseforphan @hopeful-gaming1205 @lostwithoutmyblogger-wink @owlish-lesbian-rebooted @wicked-delights @aaydence @roxiefox234 @book-of-charlie @bobolovesoze @punch-you-with-friendship @smearly-a-little-blog @wildheart49 @vigilantvirgil @mauvelavender @arentordinaryvillainsadorable @emilynoti @brileyluvsyoutube @shesavampirequeen @echomist13 @lydiaisstilessanchor

i am sorry if i tagged anyone who didnt want to be tagged! also some people on my list couldnt be tagged (i am v sorry for this too)

if you have questions, headcanons, stories or anything regarding these rooms, please let me know =)

#sanders sides #ts art #patton sanders #morality #ts morality #thomas sanders #room #pattons room #ellidraws #fanart #sketch #digital #detailed #hella detailed #ss #ts fanart #i went crazy with these pictures #holy shit #i hope this was worth it

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thewritingfox · 6 years

Text

Soulmates- Chapter 8

Master Post-> https://thewritingfox.tumblr.com/post/174423752657/soulmates-master-post-first-draft

At last they arrived and Miss Cici excused herself to make a phone call. After getting lost for a few hours, it ended up being a sixteen hour drive. When they got there both boys unloaded what bags they had and collapsed on the couch in the light blue and black painted sitting room. “This house is HUGE, and it looks like a mix between modern and straight out of a fairytale.”

“It’s been in his mother’s family since early settlers. Her family snuck on the Mayflower and to avoid being captured and hung by those crazies they fled into the woods as far as they could until they figured they were safe and built this place. It’s been burned down a few times, and every few generations it got remodeled. She decided she wanted to restore it as best as she could, but also update it at the same time. I think it was disguised as a plantation at one point and helped hide escaped slaves, though I could be wrong.”

“Wow, that’s incredible!” Roman gaped. Virgil nodded in agreement.

“It’s like time just stopped here.” She mumbled as she walked over to the dusty portrait of Virgil’s mothers hanging over the fireplace, smiling nostalgically. Virgil touch the lockets around his neck. He hadn’t thought of the two much since in years and he suddenly felt guilty about it. He was in their house, he’d destroyed their happy ever after. He shook the thoughts from his head, feeling tears spring up in his eyes. “I suggest we each take a guest room for the night, I’ll order us some chinese-” Miss Cici rushed into the room in a flurry of anger, grabbed her suitcases and stormed upstairs in the direction of guest room and everyone winced at the sound of a slamming door. Virgil stood from the couch and followed the sound of angry crying and stopped outside of a door.

“STUPID IDIOTS! WHY CAN’T THEY JUST UNDERSTAND?! THIS IS MY JOB! I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF TAKING CARE OF MYSELF! UGH! STUPID BRYAN AND STUPID JAY! THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT IT’S LIKE!” Virgil knocked softly and she threw open the door, the anger on her face melting away as she looked at the boy who she thought of almost as her son. “Oh hello Virgil. I’m sorry about all that! I just-”

“G-got i-int-to an a-argume-ment w-with y-your s-soulm-mates?”

“Yeah, they think that I should’ve stayed home with them and rested. But I had to see you off to college and I have to take care of your aunt.”

“R-rested?” She grimmiced.

“Well, I suppose I can’t hide it much longer. The boys and I decided we should have a kid and they’re worried that working will kill the baby.”

“O-oh!”

“Yeah, and I know stress is bad, but this job is the opposite of stressful! All I do is a few chores, play games with your aunt, and make sure to administer her medicines on time.”

“Y-you kn-know I-I n-never w-was t-tol w-what’s w-wrong w-with h-her. A-all I kn-know i-is sh-she’s r-really s-sick.”

“Oh boy,” Cici said nervously as she scratched the back of her neck. “To put it simply, she’s dying, very slowly. It’s something that happens after your soulmate dies, you slowly start dying. Most die almost instantly, but something in your two sides of family seems hellbent on continuing to live, but the result is a very slow and painful death, and it doesn’t help that she is killing her body with all the smoking and drinking she does. She’s just causing herself more pain. The medicines help ease her pain and keep her alive, though even they won’t be able to help forever…”

“O-oh… oh w-wow…”

“I know,” she sighed. “A lot of information to take in at once.”

“Y-yeah…”

“But, hey, she’s a stubborn one! I bet she can make it to a hundred and be the oldest living survivor of soulmate death, just to spite the doctors telling her she’ll die! And didn’t you say that Roman said that the other two lived nearby?”

“Y-yeah. Th-though w-we d-don’t kn-know m-much e-else. P-Pat c-can’t d-decide w-what h-he w-wants t-to d-do i-in l-life a-and L-lo j-just w-want-ts t-to l-learn e-ever-ry-th-thing he c-can.”

“Lo sounds like a smart boy.”

“F-from w-what I kn-know he is. K-keeps t-to h-hims-self f-for the m-most p-part.”

“Hm… We should probably head downstairs, your aunt will be ordering Chinese soon.” Virgil nodded and stood with her and went downstairs together and found Roman had taken his bags and aunt Mabel’s to some guest rooms while she was on her laptop trying to find a chinese place that she found satisfactory. Virgil asked her for some pot stickers and orange chicken, then grabbed his bags and went in search of a spare room to put his stuff.

The room he chose was next to the room he and his mother had practiced art in so many times when he was little, and was dark and dull in comparison. All of the furniture was made out of mahogany and had plain white sheets and a white duvet. He set his suitcase on the bed and watched it sink deep into the memory foam. He laid back on the bed and took off the necklace and looked at his mothers. He wondered what they’d think of him. Would they be proud? Happy he was back home? Or going to their school? He knew he’d never actually know. He started to drift off to sleep when he heard a loud thump and then profuse swearing coming from the next room. He stood to investigate.

He found the next bedroom over’s door slightly ajar and spotted Roman sprawled unceremoniously on the floor, rubbing his head. “Well, brilliant!”

“R-Ro? W-what ha-happened?!”

“Oh I just stubbed my toe and then tripped.” Virgil tried to cover up his laughter, but failed miserably. “Yeah I know, utterly brilliant of me! Thank Virge!” Virgil suddenly became very serious and grabbed Roman’s hand and almost effortlessly lifted Roman off the floor, “accidently” pulling him a little too hard, so Roman was now in his arms. Virgil smirked but then his face turned to concern and lightly touched the spot where Roman had hit his head. Virgil could tell it hurt a lot, but he wasn’t concussed. “V-virge?” Roman stuttered sheepishly. Virgil could feel Roman’s breath on his chin, suddenly noticing how much taller than the boy he was when he stood straight then realized just how close Roman was. He blushed and pushed Roman back softly then went back to his room before softly closing the door. He grabbed a pillow off the bed and started pacing before sinking against the door. He pressed his face into the pillow. He buried his face deeper into the pillow as his face got redder. Their faces had been so close, and now all Virgil could think of was Roman’s cute face. He didn’t realize he’d started screaming into the pillow until his throat hurt. From somewhere in the house he heard someone calling his name, saying that food was there, but he found himself unable to move for a few more minutes before uncurling himself from the ball he’d formed to go down and eat the warm food that was waiting for him. As he settled down and looked at his family, he smiled softly thinking about how lucky he was.

TAG LIST:

@roxiusagi

@booksgamesnetflix

@minshinxx

@cinquefoilelove

@puppypadrepatton

@ccecode

@potterlover394

#roman sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #soulmates #soulmate au #fanfic #fander fic #fandom

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searchingwardrobes · 6 years

Text

CS Valentine's One-shots: Day Five

Prompt: Valentine’s proposal, or in this case, a proposal followed by a Valentine’s wedding

I was having trouble with my muse for the last few prompts. Then I remembered that in my MC God Bless the Broken Road, I mentioned in the epilogue that Emma and Killian were married by the following Valentine’s Day. I don’t know if this breaks the “rules” or not, but I couldn’t help doing a one shot of those deleted scenes. It ended up longer and a whole lot angstier than I intended, and I’m also not sure I succeeded in making it stand alone. *Warning: Shameless self-promotion ahead* Therefore, here are links to the other stuff in this verse if you are interested:

MC God Bless the Broken Road: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8072611/chapters/18497593

Series Musings of Pastor’s Kid Killian Jones: https://archiveofourown.org/series/629957

Popcorn with Milk Duds (one-shot): https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792322

Held (one-shot): https://archiveofourown.org/works/12654315

I was also inspired by the story I have heard my entire life of how my dad proposed to my mom J

Rated T for themes. Trigger warnings: brief mentions of drug abuse, brief mentions of teen pregnancy, religious themes

Always and Forever

Emma stood in front of her mirror, noting the blush rising to her cheeks as she fastened the clasp of the necklace Killian had given her for Valentine’s Day years ago. Her fingers trembled slightly, and she kept gnawing at her lower lip. It was completely and utterly ridiculous for her to be this nervous. Sure, they were calling this their “first” date, but it was far from a normal one.

“Mommy, stop staring at yourself! You look perfect already!” Her six year old cried out behind her. His voice was equal parts whiny, breathless, and excited. She laughed at his reflection in the mirror. He was jumping on her bed, alternately flinging his entire body down on the mattress then bouncing to his feet again. Luke was a mass of constant motion with a perpetual sheen of sweat and constantly mussed hair.

And Luke was the reason it was ridiculous to call this a first date. Since he inherited that dark, thick mass of messy hair as well as his bright blue eyes from his father.

“Do you think Daddy will bring you flowers? Will he take you to a ball?”

Emma narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “A ball? Where do you think we live, the Enchanted Forest or something?” Then she reached down and tickled her son – their son – until he was squealing with laughter. Henry then came bursting in, yelling, “Me too, me too!” as he tugged on Emma’s skirt. She complied by tossing the three year old on the bed, tickling both boys anew until they were both breathlessly begging her to stop.

Just as Emma let them go, she heard the doorbell ring. Both boys yelled, “Grandma!” and raced down the hall. Emma glanced through the peep hole to check that it was indeed Elizabeth Jones, then let Luke pull the door open. Both boys showered her with hugs and kisses. It warmed Emma’s heart to see how the entire Jones family treated Henry with the same love and affection as they did Luke.

Elizabeth rose from greeting the boys and gave Emma a hug of her own. “Oh, Emma,” she enthused, still grasping her by both arms. You look stunning.”

“Thank you,” Emma told her as she shook out the skirt. The top of the dress was simple; black, sleeveless, and form-fitting with a scooped neckline. But the A-line skirt had an overlay with gold embroidery. It was simple, yet elegant, and accentuated Emma’s figure without being overtly sexy. Elsa, who had gone shopping with her, had gasped that it fit her personality perfectly, and Emma had to agree. It was even comfortable, believe it or not. “Killian said he was taking me somewhere that had to do with Christmas, and gold and black works, right?”

“Absolutely,” Elizabeth agreed with a smile, “red is so overdone at the holidays. Of course, I think Killian would love you even in a paper sack.”

Emma brushed off the compliment, that infernal blush rising to her cheeks again, and hurried into the kitchen to show Elizabeth the leftovers for dinner. She found herself rambling on about bed time, then trailed off when she realized that Elizabeth had been taking care of Luke since he was born. But the woman just nodded and smiled. Then the doorbell rang again.

“Daddy!” Luke screamed at the top of his lungs as he darted for the door.

Elizabeth caught him in a bear hug from behind. “No, no, little man. Let your Mommy and Daddy say hello to each other.”

“Why? They say hello all the time.”

Emma shook her head and laughed at her son’s answer, then took a deep breath and pulled the door open. She blinked as she took Killian in with a heated and appreciative gaze. Would his handsome looks ever cease to take her breath away?

“Swan,” he breathed out with an equally appreciative look on his face, “you are absolutely exquisite.”

Emma ducked her head and blushed. Then she ran her gaze up and down his frame before giving him a crooked smile, “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

The smile that lit his face dimpled his cheeks and crinkled his eyes. His tailored suit with a shirt of deep blue and a black tie made her relieved that she had picked a fancier dress. They just stood there for a moment staring at each other as if the clock had rewound about seven years until Luke came barreling past Emma to collide with his father’s waist.

Killian had to greet both boys and attempt to explain for the hundredth time to Henry why all four of them couldn’t go before he and Emma managed to get out the door.

“Maybe I should have picked you up,” Emma quipped as Killian helped her into the passenger’s side of his truck.

“Nonsense,” Killian argued back, “no gentleman would agree to that arrangement.”

Emma rolled her eyes at that. “So, where are you taking me?”

“Well,” Killian told her, shifting slightly in his seat as he pulled out of Emma’s apartment complex, “we’re driving into Portland to see a production of The Nutcracker.” He scratched behind his ear as he glanced at her nervously. “Is – is that okay?”

“Okay?” Emma replied hoarsely, tears filling her eyes. “It’s way more than okay. I haven’t been since Ingrid passed.”

He let out a deep sigh of relief. “That’s what I thought.” He then lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss there. It was so incredibly thoughtful, and so like him to remember. Emma had always dreamed of going to see the ballet when she was a little girl, so when Ingrid had adopted her, she had made a point to take her every Christmas. Even Killian had tagged along that year they were dating.

Killian didn’t release her hand. At first. But the longer he clasped her hand, the more jittery he became. She was used to him rubbing his thumb across her knuckles, but tonight his hand seemed to be going into spasms. And either Emma was imagining it, or his hand was getting clammy. Emma finally slipped her hand free and set it in her lap. She eyed Killian curiously. Had he gotten sick but didn’t want to cancel their date?

“Are you okay?”

Killian gave a nervous chuckle, “Sure, I’m fine.”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, not completely buying it, but she said nothing further. She put on a bright smile and started telling him about Luke and Henry’s antics at the park today, but when it dragged on into a one-sided conversation, she petered out. She gnawed on her lower lip as she gazed out the window at the fresh blanket of snow on the ground. They normally had no problem talking for hours over nothing at all, but tonight, on their first official date now that they were a couple again, he was strangely silent.

But then they arrived at the theater, and he flashed her that gorgeous smile of his. He gallantly insisted on opening her door, then took her arm like he truly was escorting her to a ball. She thought of Luke’s childish questions and couldn’t help smiling. Once inside, they were preoccupied with finding their seats, and Emma was in awe as she always was of the theater itself. The silence between them now was a comfortable thing, and as the lights dimmed, Emma slipped her arm through Killian’s and squeezed it. He smiled adoringly at her, and she rested her head on his shoulder as the lights came up on Clara, Drosselmeyer, and the enormous Christmas tree.

As the show went on, however, Emma became concerned again. Killian pulled away from her to lean forward, resting his chin on his fist. Then his legs were bouncing. But the thing that concerned Emma most was when she pulled her eyes away from Grandmother Ginger to see him kneading his left knee. She swallowed down her concern and concentrated on the remainder of the ballet.

Afterwards, Killian took her to a fancy Italian restaurant down the street from the theater. It was a gorgeous place, intimate, with fancy tablecloths and flickering candlelight. But Killian still didn’t seem like himself. Their conversation kept stalling, and he just couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting. Emma could only nibble at her chicken parmesan and sip at her wine because of the dry lump in her throat.

On the drive back to Storybrooke, Killian asked her about work, and Emma gladly talked on and on about every little thing from Aurora’s new pregnancy to the new Doc McStuffins stickers that all the kids seemed to love. She actually went on a five minute tangent about how the children’s show was doing wonders to help her calm kids down when they were getting an exam. Anything to keep them from lapsing into silence again.

“They should have made a kids show about a doctor for toys ages ago,” Emma’s chuckle sounded strained, even to her own ears. She sighed with relief when the town sign came into view.

For the first time since Portland, Killian turned to her with a tender smile. “Want to go for a walk along the beach?”

“Are you serious?”

Killian’s face fell, and a look of confusion darted across his eyes. Emma hadn��t meant her words to come out so clipped and harsh, but what did he expect? It had been one of the most awkward dates in her entire life. With someone she thought she knew better than anyone in the world.

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

Emma barked out a sarcastic laugh. “You can’t be that dense, Killian. You’ve acted the entire night like you’d rather be somewhere else, and now you want to take a romantic stroll along the beach?”

Killian blinked rapidly. “Emma, you don’t understand . . . I never meant . . . that is to say . . . “

He had turned the deepest shade of red Emma had ever seen, and he was rubbing at that knee of his again. The way he’d been acting tonight, you would think . . . Emma gasped. When she spoke, she tempered her words carefully, “You’re not taking the pills again, are you?”

“What!” Killian yelled. “How could you think that?”

“Then answer the question!”

“Of course I’m not! You have that little faith in me?” He had gotten so upset, he had pulled the car over. He shifted in his seat to face her, rubbing the back of his neck agitatedly.

“What am I supposed to think? You’re jittery, your palms are clammy,” Emma counted off the symptoms on her fingers, “you’re unable to focus, I mean, what else could it be?”

The color had drained from Killian’s face as she spoke, and suddenly another possibility washed over her like ice cold water.

“Or . . . “ she swallowed, her eyes filling up with tears. She shook her head briefly, and cut the tears off. “Take me home, Killian,” she whispered.

“Emma, no, please,” Killian protested, reaching for her. Emma shook off his hand.

“So can you explain why you’re acting so uncomfortable tonight?” Emma sat there with her arms crossed, watching him as he stared out the windshield, his hands squeezing the steering wheel, and his jaw clenching.

“No,” he finally whispered, defeated, “I guess I can’t.”

Wordlessly, he put the truck back in drive and headed back to her apartment complex. The silence between them now was a painful, tangible thing. When he parked right outside her unit, Emma shifted in her seat, clutching the pendant of her necklace in her fist to give her courage.

“Killian, remember how you told me that you wouldn’t push me for more than I was ready for in this relationship?” At his curious nod, she continued, “Well, that’s true the other way around. I don’t want you forcing this because . . . I don’t know, because you think I need you or because Luke wants it so badly. If the spark just isn’t there anymore, then –“

“Emma,” he said, cutting her off, “check the glove compartment.”

He said it with almost resignation, but when she glanced at him, he had a tiny, wry smile on his face. He gestured with his hand. “Go on, just humor me. Open it.”

Emma took a deep breath as she reached for the glove compartment. She couldn’t help flashing back to Thanksgiving seven years ago when she opened Killian’s glove compartment and an almost empty bottle of pain pills fell into her palm. But this time, she saw a small velvet jewelry box. Her mouth fell open as she cut her gaze back to Killian. His grin had widened and he gave a rueful shrug. With trembling fingers, Emma pulled out the box and opened it. Inside glittered an engagement ring. A simple, round diamond with two other tiny round diamonds set on either side of it. Emma blinked, her mind reeling.

“This,” she whispered, “is why you were so nervous tonight?”

“Aye.” There was a long pause before he continued. “I know it sounds crazy, since this is only our first date since we got back together. But, Emma, that ring is honestly seven years overdue. When I bought you that necklace, I looked at rings first. I almost bought one. Maybe I should have.”

Emma placed a hand gently on his arm. “No, Killian. We weren’t ready then.”

He pulled in a deep, shuddering breath and nodded. “But I’m ready now, Emma. I’ve wanted this for years, if I’m being completely honest. And like I said, I know it might seem fast, but think about it. We’ve actually been dating for eight months anyway and were just in denial about it.”

Emma was able to chuckle at that. “You sound like Mary Margaret.”

Killian managed a nervous laugh himself and then shrugged. “Well, she was right.” He ran his tongue nervously along his bottom lip as he shifted closer to her and clasped both her hands in his. She could tell he was completely earnest and sincere right now, but all she wanted to do was grab him and kiss him.

“So, Emma, will you marry me?”

That was it. She couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. They poured down her cheeks, and he grasped her face tenderly, wiping them away as they fell. She managed to nod, and then finally to speak. “Yes, yes, of course I will.”

He kissed her then, and her tears turned to deliriously happy smiles. He managed to slip the ring on her finger, despite the way she kept peppering his face with kisses. Then their lips met again, with passion this time, and it was all Emma could do to pull herself away. She laughed at Killian’s whimper of protest, but grasped his face and rubbed his nose with hers.

“Sorry, but we’ve got a kid inside who is going to flip out over this news.”

Killian wholeheartedly agreed. They hurried inside to find both Luke and Henry asleep on either side of Killian’s mother. She looked up at them sheepishly, knowing she had been caught spoiling them, but Emma cut off her apologies by holding out her hand to show off the ring. Killian’s mother leapt from the couch, pulling Emma immediately into a tight hug. When she pulled away, tears shown in her eyes, and she held both hands up to her mouth. When she finally spoke, her words shocked Emma.

“It’s about bloody time.”

Killian laughed and leaned down to brush a kiss to his mother’s cheek. Emma decided to refrain from reminding her how she felt about the two of them getting married seven years ago.

“Mom, we want to go ahead and tell Luke,” Killian whispered.

Elizabeth nodded her head in understanding, quickly gathered her things, and hurried out. Emma and Killian then knelt beside the couch and began gently shaking their son. Finally, his eyes blinked open and he frowned at the sight of the two of them.

“Waz – goin on,” he muttered as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Look what Daddy got Mommy,” Emma told him, showing him the ring on her finger. Luke furrowed his brow and rubbed at his hair as he stared at it.

“That’s nice,” he finally muttered, collapsing back down on the couch, his eyes falling shut.

Killian laughed as he shook the boy again. When Luke finally opened his eyes again, Killian explained, “We’re getting married, little lad. Mommy and Daddy are getting married.”

Luke sat bolt upright at those words, his eyes growing as wide as saucers. “Seriously?” he asked. Emma and Killian nodded. “Yes!” Luke cheered as he leapt from the couch. “This. Is. Awesome! Are we all moving into Daddy’s apartment? Or will we get a house? Do I need to pack right now? Will Henry call you Daddy now too? Awesome, awesome, awesome!”

Emma and Killian laughed as they watched Luke run circles around the room. Getting him back to bed proved to be impossible, so Emma and Killian both changed out of their fancy clothes and cuddled up with both boys on the couch to watch Star Wars: A New Hope. Amazingly, Henry only woke up long enough to mutter unintelligibly and then curl into a ball on Killian’s lap.

They woke up like that the next morning, Emma in the crook of Killian’s arm with Luke’s head in her lap, and Henry splayed across Killian’s chest.

Her engagement ring sparkled in the light of dawn.

**********************************************************

Eight weeks later, Emma is standing in front of the sanctuary doors of Storybrooke Fellowship, dressed in a strapless, white lace gown. Her hair is in a low bun, a simple veil tucked into it. Luke is clutching her right arm, bounding on his heels, and her left hand clutches her simple bouquet of forget-me-nots. In some ways, it’s hard to believe they pulled this off in only eight weeks.

In other ways, it had been the longest eight weeks of her life.

Of course, when your fiancée, his brother, and your two cousins run a catering and event business, pulling off a last minute wedding is nothing. And Killian’s dad being a pastor meant they had no trouble reserving the church – for free. On Valentine’s Day.

Yes, it is Valentine’s Day. If someone had told Emma even a year ago that she would be marrying Killian today, she would have laughed. She laughs now, thinking about her phone call to Killian a year ago exactly and how she mistakenly thought he was dating Ariel.

“What’s so funny, Mommy?” Luke asks.

Emma shakes her head, “Nothing kid, I’m just happy, that’s all.”

Luke grins broadly, revealing the two front baby teeth he recently lost. “Me too, Mommy.”

The first notes of the song “God Bless the Broken Road” by Rascall Flatts begins to play from inside the sanctuary. It’s their cue. With a deep breath, Emma pulls the doors open and steps inside. As she walks down the aisle, every word of the song rings true for the journey that brought them here. She is torn between locking her eyes with Killian’s at the end of the aisle to looking down at their son, who looks happier than she’s ever seen him. As for Killian, his grin threatens to split his face, and his eyes are filled with so much tender awe, that it almost makes her start crying already.

The song ends as they reach the front, and she can’t tear her eyes from Killian’s. David, who is officiating, opens by asking, “Who gives this woman to be wed to this man?”

“I do!” Luke shouts enthusiastically, shoving his hand up in the air. Everyone chuckles at his exuberance. Luke then turns to point to Henry. The three year old was the ring-bearer and he’s currently attempting to share Elizabeth Jones’s lap with the flower girl, Liam and Elsa’s little girl Haley. “And my brother, too. We’re both excited for Mommy and Daddy to get married.”

The congregation laughs again, especially when Luke fist pumps his father before going to join the rest of the family on the front row. Once it has died down, David glances at the couple mischievously before beginning the homily.

“Well, I think all of us here at Storybrooke Fellowship would agree on one thing: It’s about time!” David’s opening is greeted not only with laughter, but even a few amens. Behind Killian, Liam shoves him teasingly in the shoulder. Emma glances back to see Mary Margaret giving her a smug look.

“I also think,” David continues, “that we all got a little tired of watching these two date while swearing they weren’t.”

Killian rolls his eyes at David, but his smile shows that the ribbing doesn’t really bother him. As for Emma, she can’t seem to wipe the stupid smile off her face. David wraps up his short message, then tells Killian to share his vows. Emma turns and gives her bouquet to Mary Margaret and almost loses it when she sees Elsa and Anna wiping at their tears. She takes a deep breath as she turns to Killian and takes his hands in hers. She anchors herself in his bright blue eyes.

“First, Emma,” he begins, “I have to say that I don’t deserve you –“

“Stop,” Emma breaks him off with a hand to his lips. She blushes as she glances at David. “Sorry, I just can’t let him say that.” She looks back at her groom. “Killian Jones, you are a good man, and I am honored to become your wife.”

Killian smiles as her fingers slip from his lips, and he quirks a brow at her. “I thought I was the one saying my vows right now.”

Emma ducks her head, blushing slightly as the congregation laughs once more. Kilian releases one of her hands and grasps her chin gently. He tilts her face to look at him, and he says his vows while his thumb ghosts along her jaw.

“Emma, I think we have an advantage over some newlyweds. We already know that neither of us is perfect. And we understand that we don’t have to be. We choose to see the best in each other, and I vow to keep doing that every day for the rest of my life. It always amazes me how you can’t see how big your heart is. The way you forgive. The way you never give up on people. And I vow today to make it my job to protect your heart. With my words and my deeds. Always and forever.”

Emma can hear several people sniffling in the audience when Killian finishes, but for some reason a calm has settled over her. Killian’s gaze is like a peaceful place in the storm. She grasps the hand that still cups her cheek and kisses it before clutching both his hands firmly in hers.

“Killian, if I’m being honest, I’ve longed for this day since I was 19 years old. Then I thought I had to put that dream aside. But look what God has done. Using our son to bring us back together.” Her voice falters for a moment, her tears threatening to spill over. Killian gives her a tiny nod of encouragement. “And so I choose today to look forward, not behind. When we were young, we were lovers. Now we’re best friends. And today my vow is to take it one step further: to be your soul mate. Your partner in all things. Always and forever.”

Her tears are slipping down her cheeks now, but she doesn’t care. Killian reaches out and catches one with his thumb. The rest of the service goes by in a blur, from the exchanging of rings to Elsa and Anna’s duet. Then David is giving them a knowing grin.

“I am blessed and honored, in front of all these witnesses, to now pronounce you husband and wife. What God has joined together, let no one put asunder.”

There is a long pause, and finally they both glance curiously at David. For Killian, it’s more of a glare.

“Oh, did I forget something?” David asks, feigning ignorance. Once he’s gotten sufficient laughter from the crowd, he smiles and says, “That’s right. I forgot. You may kiss the bride!”

Emma surprises Killian by pouncing first, grabbing him by the lapels of his tux and hauling him in. He catches up quickly, though, kissing her back with fervor that elicits hoots from the crowd. He then dips her dramatically. He holds her close as he sets her back on her feet, and whispers for only Emma to hear.

“What was that you said years ago about not feeling comfortable making out in church?”

Emma leans back to see the cocky, slightly rebellious smirk of a smart-ass pastor’s kid. She then pulls in close and whispers back, “You’re my husband now, making out with you is considered holy.”

Killian waggles his eyebrows. “As a PK, I can confirm that your opinion is scripturally and theologically sound.”

Emma rolls her eyes and kisses him again for good measure, thrilling slightly at the teasing reprimands from the rest of the family. They’ll just have to get used to it. Because always and forever is a very long time.

#cs valentine #proposals #weddings

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 7 years

Text

Resource Management, pt15

Word Count: 2903 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @anotherotter @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses @mtriestowrite @wanderingkat77

Erin hadn’t even gone through the stack of paperwork she had dumped on me. I was surprised, to be honest. She was usually a little more diligent when she was turning over assignments. Maybe she was as angry as she appeared. I started flipping through the reports and sorting them according to which form they were. Then I alphabetized them. Then I went back and ordered them numerically, as I realized that we’d switched from names to ID numbers. Once I had everything sorted, I started checking each ID number against the casualty list from the attack and deactivated every report that no longer needed to be assessed. It was late in the afternoon by the time I had got that far. It was boring and thankless, and I needed a break. I poked my head into Erin’s office to see what she was working on.

“Hey, I’m going to run down to Starbucks for a latte. Want anything?” I asked. She looked up and smiled.

“I’ll come with.” She pulled her purse out and followed me out of the office. “How are those reports coming?”

“Erin, you should have told me you were so far behind on them. I could have helped you,” I admonished her. A scowl flashed across her face, but just as quickly vanished. I was sure she was hoping I hadn’t noticed.

“We had a lot come through while you were at the academy. I figured I’d be able to catch it up this week. Until Fury downgraded my clearance,” she grumbled.

“Where have you sent your resume?” I asked. Erin stopped and gave me a look of surprise.

“Oh my god, I was just blowing off steam, Annie!” She exclaimed. “I have no intention of finding another job. I was just pissed off.”

“Could have fooled me,” I commented as we turned into the Starbucks. She fell silent as we stepped in line.

“Do you think I should be looking?” She suddenly asked.

“Well, you’re obviously not happy. Venti non-fat London Fog please.” I handed some cash to the barista, and turned back to Erin. “Maybe you should be looking for somewhere safer.”

“Do you think my job is in jeopardy?” Erin pressed. I accepted my change and looked at her, long and hard. I could feel myself giving the ‘are you an idiot’ face to her.

“Erin, if you don’t follow through with what the director wants, your life may be in jeopardy. Isn’t that more important than a paycheque?” I demanded. “I mean, really. I get that this is not what you signed up for, but we’ve entered an arena now where risk-negation is far more important than personal pride. Don’t you think you’re being a little childish?”

“Wow. Tell me how you really feel,” she snapped as she paid for her coffee. We moved toward the pick up area. I could feel my cheeks flushing and my heart thumping in my chest.

“Okay, I will. I very nearly fucking died last week. I was a target in that attack. Everyone in our department that was at work fucking died except for me. So forgive me if I’m a little sensitive about this, but grow the fuck up. Fury is trying to keep you safe and alive as well as keep SHIELD running. If that means you need to put on a pair of runners and do five K, or take your fucking sidearm to the range and learn to defend yourself, maybe you should. Be more proactive about your personal safety. And if you really don’t want to take those steps, then yes, I think you should be looking for a new job at a different agency,” I retorted. The barista handed my tea across the counter. I snapped a lid on it and walked out, not waiting for Erin.

When I got back to the office, I tossed a ‘do not disturb’ note on the door and shut it before getting back at the stack of reports. I connected my phone to my console and put my favourite playlist on to keep the outside distractions down and then started pounding away at the pile. It shouldn’t have taken Erin more than a few hours to resolve what she’d given me, and I was determined to get it done before I went home. I kept my head down and pushed through, completely losing track of time. There was a tentative knock at my door on the third repeat of the playlist. I looked up as Stark opened the door. I raised an eyebrow at him. Tentative was not in his nature.

“Hey,” I looked back down at the report I was working on as he sat down across from me. He kicked his legs up and crossed his ankles on my desk

“Your receptionist was just locking up when I arrived. She said you haven’t left your office since three.”

“I had a pile of crap dumped on my desk that should have been managed while I was away two weeks ago,” I explained. “It’s been a long day.”

“But Coulson sent hugs and kisses in his text message. You should be all swoony,” he teased. I groaned and opened my phone. I pulled the tracer sticker off and tossed it in the garbage, giving him a smug look.

“Stay out of my text messaging,” I said, for emphasis. Stark just laughed.

“Where are we going for dinner?” He asked.

“We are going nowhere for dinner, Stark. Anna and I have an actual date. No work tonight.” Phil caught Stark off guard, and Stark rocked back in the chair just enough that he lost his balance. There was some undignified limb flapping, and his feet crashed to the floor before he regained his balance.

“I know when I’m not wanted.” I had to hand it to Stark; he knew how to play the wounded drama queen. He rose and walked to the door, his face a mask of exaggerated sadness. I looked at Phil and back to Stark.

“You are not wanted, Stark. However, I think we should get together tomorrow and go over what we know and what we’ve discovered.” Phil gave Stark the bland smile that I’d learned was his business fuck-off. Stark glanced my way and seeing the set of my jaw, sighed.

“Fine. I’ll bring my secret decoder ring tomorrow and we can find out who’s been stealing the lightbulbs from Old Man Johnson’s backdoor.” He swept out of the office, leaving Phil and I in confused silence. I looked at Phil and back at the door and cracked up. Phil shook his head.

“So tell me about this coded message.” Phil and I were sitting in my living room, eating Thai take-away. I took a big mouthful of noodles and chewed.

“Kate’s grandma called today. She’s Kate’s next of kin,” I started, and took a sip of my beer. “I figured she was calling about Kate’s life insurance, but she wanted to tell me all about this hornet nest she had in her yard years ago. She said something about smoking it, so the hornets left it but were calm, and then setting off a bug bomb, and then burning the nest so they couldn’t come back. I thought she must just have Alzheimer’s or something, but when I looked in Kate’s file, it showed her grandma had been a field agent.”

“What’s Granny’s name?” Phil asked.

“Cecelia Banks,” I answered. Phil choked on a mouthful of Pad Thai. I smacked him on the back and handed him his beer. He took a drink and coughed a couple time to clear his throat.

“Cecelia Banks? Jesus, she’s legendary,” he coughed again. “Her name is constantly being brought up at the academy. She discovered a cell of traitors in the 60s, and she wasn’t sure how deep it went. So she planted false information about a project she was working on to root them out. When she knew the extent of the infiltration, she exposed the works. Basically burned the nest so there was nothing left. That was a fucking brilliant analogy. No wonder they say she was one of the best.”

“How could she possibly know the importance of sharing that story with me?” I puzzled.

“You should go offer your condolences to your friend’s grandmother,” Phil recommended.

“That’s an excellent plan. I’ll see if Barton can meet me earlier tomorrow so I can drive up. She’s in Philly. Think you can get away and join me?” I asked. He nodded.

“Yeah. Fury has asked me to keep an eye on you anyhow.”

“I thought you were the mysterious security detail,” I laughed. “Natasha was quite concerned that she didn’t know who you were.”

“How did that go today?” He asked. I launched into an explanation of my training time, and how incredible Natasha was. I mean, Phil knew what I was talking about, so I really had no need to be so descriptive, but it had been an excellent session, and I could feel the ache settling into my muscles. Natasha was a tough teacher, and was going to challenge me, and I liked that. Phil leaned back on the couch and watched me as I gestured and tried to demonstrate stuff we’d done all alone. The indulgent smile, and loosened tie, combined with his completely relaxed posture and lazy grip on his beer bottle made me stop, midsentence and just look at him. I cocked my head to the side and smiled. He raised his eyebrows.

“What?” He asked. I shook my head and collected our plates and took them into the kitchen and brought us each another beer. I climbed onto the couch beside him and stretched my legs across his lap. He wrapped an arm around my knees as I leaned into his side. When I handed him the beer bottle he smirked.

“I know it’s a little early in the week for a two-beer-evening, but I’m feeling a little less invincible tonight. I feel vincible. Is vincible even a word?” I asked. He laughed and kissed my forehead.

“I’m not sure.” He ran his hand along my bare leg. “Is this what you wore at work today?”

“Yeah. Why?” I started pulling the pins out of my bun and fluffing my hair.

“Complete with your glasses there on your blouse all day?” He nodded toward where my glasses were tugging at the front of my blouse.

“Yeah. Why?” I asked.

“I got a text earlier today asking if Librarian Dominatrix Barbie was my new girlfriend or if it was The Other One.” He put air quotes around Librarian Dominatrix Barbie and The Other One. “I guess Librarian Dominatrix Barbie is my new girlfriend.”

I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or amused. I chose to be amused. It wasn’t the first time I had been compared to Barbie. It wouldn’t be the last. I could be offended every time, and point out the obvious differences: my boobs weren’t that big, my waist wasn’t that small, I wasn’t tall enough, my panties weren’t permanently molded onto my body and I was able to bend at the waist. Or I could roll with it, and let people underestimate me. It was probably to my advantage to let people underestimate me.

“So do I smack you around with a riding crop or a dictionary?” I teased.

“Well, if you have a dictionary, maybe we can look up vincible before you start hitting me,” he chuckled.

“Be forewarned. All my dirty talk tonight will be in words of no fewer than four syllables,” I taunted, whispering in his ear.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever looked forward to castigation and deprivation more.” He leaned across my legs and placed his beer bottle on the table, then took mine and put it beside his. He lifted my legs off his lap and slid across me, pinning me under him on the couch.

“Hey! I’m supposed to be Dominatrix Librarian Barbie. Get off!” I protested. He shook his head and smiled. I briefly considered flipping him off me, but in the end, I let him stay where he was. He was warm, and his hands were rough and it was exactly where I wanted to be after my day.

While Phil was in the shower, I sent a quick email to Erin to let her know I was going to be out of the office for the day. I clicked through the other emails and saw one from Barton in response to my message about changing our training time. I quickly responded by text message to let him know I was available until ten, and by the time I’d hit send, Erin had emailed back, demanding to know why I wasn’t coming in. I opted to phone her instead.

“What the hell, Annie? You chewed me out yesterday and then locked yourself in your office for the rest of the afternoon and now you aren’t coming in today?” She snarled into the phone instead of saying hello.

“One of the casualties from the attack had a dependent grandmother, and she phoned me yesterday. She wasn’t making any sense. I need to go see her to find out what needs to be put in place to ensure her safety. I think she has dementia.” I was not going to rise to the bait.

“And no one else can do that?” The venom was just dripping through the phone at me.

“Considering she called me, I thought it prudent that I check into this myself. If she has some sort of memory loss, it might help to hear my name.” I hoped that made sense. I knew nothing about dementia.

“Fine, whatever. Do whatever you feel prudent, Madam Director.” Her tone was contemptuous. It was time to rise to the bait.

“You know what? Don’t bother coming in today either, Erin. You can take a day without pay for insubordination,” I replied coldly.

“Fuck you. I don’t answer to you. Unless Fury tells me to take the day off, I’m not staying home.” The line went dead.

“That went well,” I sighed.

“What was that about, princess?” An unfamiliar male voice asked from the kitchen door. I dropped the phone and whirled around. It was Barton. How he’d got in was beyond me.

“Jesus Christ, Barton!” I gasped. “You scared the shit out of me.”

I prayed that Phil had head us talking, but I could hear the shower still running. Barton looked through my cupboards for a coffee cup and sat down to drink his coffee. I leaned against the counter, between him and the hall to the bathroom and my bedroom, hoping to somehow intercept Phil before Barton saw him.

“Hey, Annie?” Phil’s voice floated down the hall. “Can you toss my shaving kit to me? I left it at the front door.”

I closed my eyes and fought to keep my face calm. I knew Barton would have noticed the shoes at the door, so he would be expecting my boyfriend. But he knew Phil well, and I was just hoping he wouldn’t recognize his voice. I turned to get the shaving kit from the entry, but when I moved to head down the hall, Barton blocked me, and took the bag from me. Without a word he walked down the hall and knocked on the door. I stood, frozen in place, where he’d left me. Phil opened the bathroom door. Barton dropped the shaving kit into Phil’s hand, turned and walked back to the kitchen. He sat down and looked in his coffee cup and up at me and then back to his coffee cup.

“What’s in my coffee?” He asked.

“Nothing,” I answered. The look on his face made my blood run cold. Barton’s eyes narrowed and he was across the kitchen and had me against the fridge in seconds.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS IN MY COFFEE?” He screamed at me. Phil was in the doorway of the kitchen in a flash, towel around his waist, sidearm drawn and trained on Barton. If I hadn’t been so fucking terrified, I would have laughed. He only had half his face shaved, and the other half was still covered in shaving cream.

“Let go of Director Ellis, Barton,” he ordered. Barton looked at Phil, then at me. He looked back at Phil and his face fell. His grip loosened and he slowly let go of me, without taking his eyes off Phil. I saw a tear snake down his cheek and without realizing what I was doing, I reached out and rubbed his shoulder. He pulled away from me without looking in my direction. Phil lowered his weapon and placed it on the counter beside him. Barton took two steps to cover the distance between them and reached out hand to Phil. Phil, aware of his partial nudity, intercepted the gesture and turned it into a handshake.

“This isn’t the way I would have liked to tell you, Clint, but –“

“Jesus Christ, Phil?” Barton pulled him into a bear hug. Phil looked so incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. He patted Barton’s back stiffly, and then extricated himself from Barton’s arms. He backed up a few steps, grabbed his sidearm and pointed at the bathroom.

“I’m just going to go get dressed. I’m sure you have questions.”

#avengers fanfic #avengers fanfic with OFC #Phil Coulson x OFC

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