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mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess · 2 years

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He's so irresistible (up-close and personal)

Title based off Irresistible by Jessica Simpson.

Lan Wangji probably shouldn't have been so happy with his current predicament. He should have been at least mildly inconvenienced, if not downright scandalized. He should have been making strongly worded phone calls and switching arrangements to fix things. In fact, everything should have been resolved by now.

But Lan Wangji couldn't find it within himself to do any of that. In fact, the moment the receptionist very apologetically told him that the room in his and Wei Ying's name would no longer be a twin bed but a double king size (due to some kind of overcrowding issue or something Lan Wangji couldn't care enough to keep in mind), he picked up his bags and walked towards the elevator with the key in hand, Wei Ying in his stead.

"Lan Zhan! You're not mad, right? I swear I didn't plan this, I can show you the reservation! I even had it approved by HR, and they wouldn't have agreed if-"

"It is fine, Wei Ying." Lan Zhan said just as the elevator pinged, and he walked in with no hurry. "We will be spending most of the day in meetings anyway."

"Yeah, that's true... but this must be uncomfortable for you, I know you never had roommates before, much less having to sleep in bed with one."

The elevator display announced arrival to the seventh floor and the door opened swiftly.

"It is fine if it's Wei Ying."

And he made his way down the corridor, not waiting to see the other man's cheeks flaring red, a little teasing smile on his lips.

---

The room was spacious and comfortable, warm, elegantly furnished, white and mahogany accents bringing together a luxurious atmosphere.

"At least it's nice." Wei Ying spoke, leaving his bags by the right side of the bed and opening the balcony door to see the view. There was a rather large urban park right next door and Wei Ying could see the autumn foliage of the many trees right underneath his window.

"Wei Ying, come inside. It is cold."

Wei Ying laughed, closing the door behind him. "Okay, mommy."

"Ridiculous."

Lan Zhan had already started unpacking, his clothes neatly arranged into the double door, mirrored wardrobe. They had to spend a whole week in town for a business conference on behalf of the Lan Corp, so he'd packed a lot of dress shirts and ties, blazers and pants, abiding by a strict business dress code. He was just putting a suit on a hanger when he felt Wei Ying impossibly close to him, peering into the wardrobe from behind.

"Leave a little room for me too, won't you? You got enough clothes for both of us yourself, I should just wear yours."

"There is plenty of space." Lan Zhan could only wonder how his voice hadn't trembled.

Wei Ying chuckled a little and put some distance between them. "I'm just teasing you. I'll go have a shower until you're done and then put my own stuff in."

And just like that, Wei Ying disappeared into the bathroom. He hadn't taken any clothes with him, or any of the neatly folded towels on their bed. The realization alone had Lan Zhan's ears burn.

Lan Zhan was going to pass out. Or pass away. Or both. It had been more than enough to know Wei Ying was wet and naked a flimsy wall away, but now he had called out his name to ask for a towel. Leave it to Wei Ying to be careless about such things.

And Lan Zhan had to give it to him, of course, otherwise Wei Ying would have definitely, shamelessly walked into the room wearing nothing but that perfect skin Lan Zhan could only fantasize about touching and biting.

So, he picked a towel at random, took in a deep breath, and knocked on the door. "Here is your towel."

Wei Ying peeked his head outside, smiling gratefully. "Thank you, Lan Zhan, I'm sorry I bothered you with such a stupid thing."

"It's alright. Be more careful next time."

Wei Ying shut the door and Lan Zhan went straight into the balcony, outside. The cold air served as a nice distraction - the bite of it kept Lan Zhan from imagining Wei Ying and the bathroom and how he could have not knocked and walked right in. Or joined him in the shower.

---

He entered the room five minutes or so later, and had half the mind to walk back out - because Wei Ying was, to his credit, wearing the towel Lan Zhan had given him, except this towel was... obscenely small. Wei Ying had wrapped it around his waist the best he could have, but he still had to hold it together with one hand, and the poor cloth was obviously struggling to keep Wei Ying's (very round, if you asked Lan Zhan) ass covered. And to add insult to injury, he was very daintily bent over his luggage, searching for something. Lan Zhan walked towards his side of the bed with his eyes almost closed - if he looked, he would have definitely seen more than his friendly relationship with Wei Ying allowed. (Not that he would have minded, of course, Wei Ying must have had a really pretty hol-)

"Lan Zhan? Are you okay? You're all red."

"I am fine. It's the difference in temperature."

"Oh, right, you just went outside. Any reason for that?"

"A weird sound."

"I didn't hear anything, but okay." He pulled something from his bag, victorious. "Ah, finally found it!"

And he once again entered the bathroom, giving Lan Zhan no more than a few seconds before he walked out and Lan Zhan really wanted to go on the balcony again. Wei Ying had put on a pair of grey sweatpants and nothing else. And Lan Zhan had very keen eyes.

---

They ordered room service and Lan Zhan took a shower himself in the meantime. He didn't do anything more than wash away the long trip, because he was tired and hungry and the room service lady had told him she would send in their food and drinks in 10 minutes or so, which was not nearly enough time for Lan Zhan to really do anything.

So, he got dressed (decently, mind you, although he had grey sweatpants on, he wore a long shirt over them so nothing would be visible) and barely managed to dry some of his hair before there was a knock on the door.

The room service guy looked something like that guy Lan Xichen had become close with, Jin Guangyao or something, except without the dimples and the slightly suspicious vibes.

"My name is Mo Xuanyu, I'll be delivering your room service order tonight."

"Come in."

Mo Xuanyu wheeled his trolley in, setting a wide array of dishes onto the designated table in the room, while also opening a wine bottle and pouring halfway into two tall glasses. He tried not to look at the very attractive man lounging on the bed half naked on his phone, and he also tried not to look at the other equally as attractive man that was fiddling with his wallet. Mo Xuanyu felt a bit like the first 3-5 minutes of a Pornhub Premium film. Not that he watched many of those.

"This is all." He finally said as he finished laying everything out. "I'll be leaving now, if you need anything more, please let me know."

Lan Zhan handed him several bills that Mo Xuanyu could barely believe the sum of. "Thank you. Have a good shift."

Mo Xuanyu could only nod. For that much money, he would have dropped down to his knees without a word - he made more from that ome delivery than from his past three shifts alone.

This was even better than the Pornhub Premium scenario. For sure.

Unknown to him, he wasn't the only one with such thoughts about the situation.

---

Wei Ying drank about half the bottle of wine with his meal and Lan Zhan struggled not to imagine what it would feel like to kiss those red-stained lips. He only had ome glass, allowing himself to be peer pressured by Wei Ying just because...well, because it was Wei Ying and Lan Zhan liked him a lot and trusted him not to do anything they'd both regret later.

But now, with a full stomach and just a bit tipsy, Lan Zhan felt himself be drawn to Wei Ying in any and all the ways a person could be attracted to another. Of course, Wei Ying was illegally handsome - in general, but also right at that moment, relaxed, zapping through TV channels, resting against the headboard.

His hair sprawled messily over his chest and shoulders, the contours of his abs well defined as he laid down. The veins in his hands bulged a bit as he pressed the remote control buttons, some requiring more force from the wear and tear of the many guests that visited that hotel room.

The curtains were only halfway drawn, the silver moon rays mixing with the TV lights, and, if Lan Zhan tried enough, he could imagine that they weren't in a hotel but in a private bedroom in their own little (or not so little) home, living in domestic bliss.

Lan Zhan had often imagined Wei Ying in his future. Of course, they were... friends. And that was unlikely to change because Lan Zhan had always been loyal to those he cared about no matter if platonically or otherwise.

But Lan Zhan didn't imagine his future with Wei Ying as friends. He imagined finally getting the courage to confess his feelings and them being reciprocated. He imagined kisses before work and sneaky makeouts in meeting rooms. He imagined dinners and breakfasts and proposals and a grand wedding. He even imagined a little one running around their home and then going to school recitals and graduations and family gatherings.

He imagined... being in love. No, he was in love already. He imagined that love being returned.

And now, with Wei Ying so close and so comfortable, sharing a bed with Lan Zhan like they'd always done it for years... Lan Zhan couldn't help being courageous. If things went south, he could always blame it on the alcohol next morning.

---

Wei Ying didn't mind this. He had always been a very physically affectionate person, hugging and kissing cheeks and foreheads, cuddling and sharing personal space for no apparent reason. His friends often joked that if Wei Ying used someone as a foot rest at least once, they were officially accepted as part of the group.

However, safe and comfortable as Wei Ying felt with all of that, he couldn't have suppressed the surprised gasp he let out when Lan Zhan, known far and wide for being averse to touch (except with Wei Ying, maybe, because Lan Zhan never brushed him off when he hung off his arm or patted his shoulders) suddenly closed the distance they had in bed. They were side to side, so close Wei Ying could feel Lan Zhan's body heat, when Lan Zhan adjusted so he could lean on an elbow, his free hand gently tracing up and down Wei Ying's arm, raising goosebumps.

"Lan Zhan...? What are you doing...?"

"You are always touching me. I should be allowed to do the same."

Wei Ying swallows, hard, and Lan Zhan sees it, is hypnotized by it for a second, before reality sets in and he retracts his arm. Wei Ying must have been uncomfortable with that kind of gesture, Lan Zhan shouldn't have just gone ahead and done it without consent...

Wei Ying's face painted in a light pink blush, looking towards Lan Zhan in an adorably shy way. "I didn't tell you to stop... I was just... surprised."

"You were?"

And he resumed the touching, trying not to give in to the impulse of letting his hand wander over Wei Ying's chest, to his nipples, down to his abs and underneath the waistband of his pants towards his-

"Yes. And I hope this isn't just because we've been drinking either."

"It is not."

"I'm glad." Wei Ying smiled with a bit of mischeviousness in the corner of his mouth. "Then it means I can do this now."

Lan Zhan finds himself being kissed senseless a moment later.

Too bad the alcohol and the tension had been too much - he passed out right as Wei Ying was about to get on top of him for more.

Well, plenty of time for that later. They had a whole week to share feelings. And the king sized bed.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #writing attempts #idk what this is the idea just came to me #i also had to include mxy bc i lov him

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fantasmalresplendent · 3 years

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Dean died at the ripe old age of 85.

In his lucid moments during the days leading up to his passing, in which Dean was just as sharp and as bright as he was fifty years ago, he remarked that people must think he’d robbed the cradle with a “hot piece” such as Castiel hanging around him.

“You don’t mind that I’m a wrinkly, senile, crotchety old bastard?” Dean had asked, more than once, but he had always said it with a smile. And Castiel would smile back, replying with the same answer the answer many times, in many ways:

“You’re not senile.”

“Old, but not a bastard.”

“I thought I was the crotchety one.”

“I don’t mind.”

Then Dean would smile, and it would light up the room, and Castiel would wonder again how he came to deserve the focus, let alone the affection, of such a man.

“It’s not about deserving, Cas,” Dean had said, half-whispered in the middle of the night a few short months after they had begun to share the bed they laid in. “It’s… fuck, well I don’t know what it’s about. But people don’t get what they deserve, not most of the time.”

Castiel frowned, furrowing his brows. “They should,” he grumbled.

“Well if people got what they deserved, they’d… I don’t know, Sam would’ve actually become a lawyer, stayed in school. Jo, Ellen, Bobby, they’d all still be here. I’d get mauled by a werewolf or something, go out with a bang, and Baby,” Dean said sternly, as though chastising the universe itself for such an injustice, “Would never get so much as a scratch on her.”

“You think that’s what you deserve?” Castiel’s voice was soft, not wanting to disturb the still of the night, but steely as he considered even the possibility of Dean’s violent end.

Dean registered that, swallowing, “I don’t know. I guess I just never thought I’d even make it this far. Hunters have the shortest lifespans of any human subspecies,” Dean cracked a smile, but his heart wasn’t in the joke. Castiel knew Dean was doing the math in his head. He knew Dean was mentally recalling how long it had been since Bobby left for heaven. Tallying up the number of people who were gone because of self-sacrifice, mistakes, pure dumb luck. Counting exactly how many years he had outlived his own mother.

Castiel had wrapped his arms around Dean then, embracing him, surrounding him, and they curled into each other completely. Burying himself in Castiel’s neck, Dean had never felt so close to him, and yet so far away. “You don’t have to follow the same patterns if you don’t want to, Dean,” Castiel stated, as if it were that easy. “Do you want to?”

“Want to what?”

“Get mauled by a werewolf?”

Dean sniffed in laughter, and that was answer enough.

Castiel found himself stroking Dean’s hair, an action he felt suited him. He thought for a moment in the stillness and in the space between their breaths. “Maybe it’s idealistic of me, but I still think people should get what they deserve. Even- no, especially you.”

Dean took his time answering, opening his mouth several times before actually saying, “Sometimes I don’t think I know what I deserve.”

“I guess we’ll just have to figure that out together then. We have time,” Castiel kissed Dean’s forehead and he sighed at the touch. “We have plenty of time. Heaven will wait for you, no matter how long.”

Dean looked up at him then with a pout, “You sound pretty confident in that statement for a dude who hasn’t shown up to heavenly chorus practice in a few years.”

Castiel smiled, “I’d rather be here with you. Always have.”

The man blushed. “Well, if I go… I mean, wherever I go… Where will you end up?”

“I could go with you.”

“Where?”

Castiel closed the distance between them fully, thumbing across Dean’s cheek as they kissed. “Anywhere. If you want me there, I will be there, whether it’s here or heaven. I’ll be there.”

“For how long?”

“For however long you want me to be.”

Dean kissed back, his fingers tangling in Castiel’s hair. “Yeah. Okay.”

Sam went not long after Dean. It wasn’t a surprise; it was his time as well. His children were grown, his grandchildren almost grown, Castiel knew they’d miss him but that they’d be all right. And they knew to call on “Uncle Cas” if they weren’t, even the little ones who didn’t understand exactly how they were related, or why Great Uncle Dean's husband was only about as old as their parents.

“I mean I love the little gremlins,” Dean had said, cracking open a beer after a long few days of babysitting Sam and Eileen's girls while the expecting parents were in the hospital. He was exhausted, they both were, but beaming from meeting the newest member of the Winchester clan: a healthy baby boy named Robert. “But have you seen Sam’s house? Goddamn mess in there.”

“You… don’t want to have some of your own?” Castiel had asked carefully, taking the beer Dean held out for him.

“You’re making them sound like trading cards. I don’t know, I- I guess I never thought too hard about it.” Castiel could tell this was a lie by the way Dean didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Wouldn’t know what to do with a kid if I had one.”

“Do you think you’d be a good father?”

Castiel had met John Winchester, in Hell. Well, he hadn’t exactly met him. He had really only passed by John’s cell, stole a glance at the infamous hunter on his way to retrieve Dean’s soul. He’d never told Dean what he saw, they were not close enough at the time. He wasn’t sure if Dean would even want to know. Castiel had almost spoken about it many times, but whenever Dean talked about John, “Dad,” a look crossed over his face, sometimes for only a second. A furrowing of brows, a tight smile, a quick transition to happier subjects.

The same look crossed over Dean’s face as soon as Castiel had asked the question.

“Wow. Um, loaded question there, Cas.”

He waited for Dean to meet his eyes before continuing, “I think you would be.”

“Do- wait,” Dean shook his head, trying to understand where Castiel was going with all of this, “Do you want kids?”

“I want you to live a normal life, Dean. I want to be able to give you what you want.”

“Okay, lots of stuff to unpack here. First of all, a normal life isn’t and never was an option,” Dean leaned back against the counter, “I think we can agree on that. Second of all, you didn’t answer my question.”

“...And third of all?” Castiel prompted.

“No, second of all first. Do you want kids?”

Castiel sighed, taking a swig of his beer, considering his words. “I’m an angel, Dean-”

“Is that so!” Dean raised his eyebrows, then squinted as if in deep thought, “Weird, somehow I never noticed.”

That deserved a well-placed eyeroll, but Castiel still had a point to make. “We don’t- I’m just trying to…” he set his beer down. “I don’t know. But that doesn’t matter, what matters is that I would love and care for a child, if it were ours. If we decided that was something we wanted, I would be so happy to raise them, with you. I’d be terrified,” Castiel admitted, “At the enormous and important responsibility, but I would love doing it, if… if it was with you. I just want you to know that, I guess,” Castiel shrugged, “I don’t want you to think it’s not an option for us, if you want it to be.”

“Okay…” Dean was thinking, swirling the beer around his glass. He pointed the mouth at Castiel, “You’re still avoiding my question,” Castiel really rolled his eyes this time, “But I don’t really think it’s for me, all that white picket fence stuff. If you really wanted a kid, I would definitely hit the library and read all those, I don’t know, fucking parenting guides, and take the Mommy and Me classes, whatever. And I think you’d be a good father, better than me, I’d just let them eat gummy worms and shoot slingshots.”

“Children love gummy worms. They listen and will behave better when offered gummy worms,” Castiel knew this for a fact from very recent personal experience, “I don’t see how gummy worms could pose an issue. Slingshots, however-”

“Okay so maybe I’m overestimating your abilities a little,” Dean held up a hand, “But still, I… I like this,” he gestured to the space between them and around them, “I like us. I like waking up to a clean kitchen and sleeping in on weekends. I like not having to ask more than one person whether or not I can take a drive by myself or crank my music really loud at midnight. And I fucking hate Paw Patrol.”

Castiel smiled.

“Sam and Eileen always need babysitters. That’s good enough for me right now.”

“You’ll tell me though, if this is something you really want,” Castiel insisted, “If you think about it and decide something else.”

“Sure.”

“Promise.”

“Okay, fine, I promise,” Dean took a step forward and leaned in for a kiss then. Castiel could taste the beer on Dean’s tongue and sighed. Dean smiled against Castiel’s lips, lowering his voice to a comical level, “We could, uh, you know, try and make some babies,” Dean waggled his eyebrows and Castiel pushed Dean’s laughing face away, but grabbed his hand, turning towards their room.

They hadn’t spoken about it again, not seriously anyway. They got a dog. Dean opened a vintage car garage. Castiel learned how to bake. They took long road trips to the beaches in California, wandered through roadside attractions like Carhenge in Nebraska and Cadillac Ranch in Texas. They bought decidedly way too much merchandise at Oklahoma’s National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum. And maybe they killed the occasional vampire, the wayward poltergeist, but the occasions became less and less. There were younger, more spry hunters on the road now, always welcome at the bunker to look through their library or ask advice on a particularly troublesome spirit. Sam even coerced Dean into holding what became a yearly “conference,” “What are we, a tech startup?” for the next generation of hunters to learn from the legendary brothers.

So maybe they spent more time at home than on the road, but home suited them. Routine suited them like Castiel never could have predicted it would. It wasn’t a white picket fence, but it wasn’t a lonely highway either. Dean would joke about how “boring” they’d become, but Castiel reveled in the repetition. The three hundredth time Dean brought Castiel coffee in bed was just as lovely as the third. The five hundredth time Castiel cooked dinner passed without fanfare, though Dean hugging him from behind, chin hooked over Castiel’s shoulder as he whisked, felt like fanfare enough. The one thousandth kiss they shared was in their bed, lazily breathing each other in as the first beams of sunlight shone through the window after a week of straight rain. Home, a thing he and Dean had never known in their youth, held the majority of their most precious, most banal memories. But still, Castiel always looked forward to those moments speeding down a desert highway when Dean would reach for his hand, turn his head to meet Castiel’s eyes, and smile.

Time took its time with them.

It seemed the opposite with Sam’s children, who grew up faster than Castiel could keep track of. And as they grew from waddling toddlers to full-fledged human beings, Castiel was fascinated, enamored, but Dean was simply proud. He attended their tournaments, their decathlons. He went to their graduations, weddings, barbecues, and Castiel went with him. They took the kids to concerts and movies, parks and shooting ranges, and Castiel never got tired of the smile on Dean’s face when they threw their small arms around Dean’s neck and called him their “Cool Uncle.” “Hear that, Cas? That means you’re the No Fun Uncle. The No-Funcle.”

And as the crowned Cool Uncle, he teased Sam mercilessly about his minivan and his “#1 Dad” mugs, but Castiel knew how proud Dean was of him too. How glad he was that Sam got the future he wanted, and how grateful he was that that future included him.

The brothers still fought. They still bickered, pranked, and glowered. Sam complained that Dean let his kids use power tools too young when they visited, and Dean complained that Sam’s kids were too old to have never heard “Stairway to Heaven.” The usual, the routine, many times over. But they never lied to each other, at least not about the important things, not anymore. And Castiel was welcome in Sam and Eileen’s house and lives, an honor he felt he didn’t deserve, but as Dean said, maybe it wasn’t about deserving.

It was Eileen who noticed Castiel first as he entered the hospital room the day he'd been informed that Sam Winchester was finally coming home. He didn't have to tell Eileen; she saw it on Castiel's face. They’d already spoken, he’d prepared her for the eventuality a few days prior. Eileen smiled, looking back at her husband, teasing him lightly, but Castiel knew she was holding back on her usual snark because Sam looked, well, tired. Turning away from Sam, Eileen signed, “Are you here for him?”

Castiel shook his head. “No, but someone will be here soon.”

“You mean they haven’t given you reaper duty yet?” Sam joked from his horizontal position, speaking and signing with his usual quick wit, but not with his usual articulation. Castiel had seen him argue with Dean for fifty years like it was his job, he was accustomed to the precision with which Sam had always wielded his words. Not today.

“I don’t think I’d be very good at it,” Castiel stepped closer so that Sam wouldn’t have to crane his head, “I’m not very persuasive.”

“No kidding,” Sam shakily clasped Castiel’s hand and grinned. “I’m surprised Dean even went with you.”

“It took less persuading than you’d think.”

“How is he?” Eileen asked, but she was smiling, so she knew the answer.

“He’s good,” Castiel smiled back, “Getting what he deserves.”

Sam smirked, but his head sunk back into his pillow as if relieved. “And I bet he’s complaining about it non-stop. Asshole never knew how to take a vacation.”

“Neither do you,” Eileen levelled her husband with a fond look.

“We’ve taken vacations!”

“You always wanted to go somewhere exotic and then you’d just end up in the library. Remember Berlin?”

“They had… well I wasn’t going to find those editions in America, and-”

Sam and Eileen bickered for a bit, and Castiel did end up backing Eileen’s points more often than not, so eventually Sam recognized that he was outnumbered on this particular case.

Castiel bid his goodbyes just in time as the nurse entered the room to check Sam’s vitals. Her tone was cheerful, but Castiel could tell that she too knew what was coming.

“Well… I’ll see you soon, buddy, huh?” Sam smiled at Castiel as confidently as he could muster for Eileen’s sake, but Castiel knew behind those laugh lines Sam wasn’t so sure of himself. Castiel supposed that worry wasn’t to be unexpected from a chosen one of Hell, Lucifer's vessel, the boy Castiel had once called an “abomination.”

But Castiel smiled, giving Sam’s shoulder one last firm squeeze. “You will.”

When Dean died, at the ripe old age of 85, he knew what to expect.

He’d visited heaven before. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Not an exciting place, but exciting wasn’t necessarily good. Hell had been exciting, and he was in no hurry to return there. Purgatory had been exciting in a different way, years later he swore the stench still lingered on his skin. Sometimes, when he would lose himself in his “senior moments,” he thought he was back in that bloody in between. Or back in hell. Or had gone to heaven. “Times and places are difficult to navigate when your brain’s turning into gummy worms,” he told Cas once. He didn’t remember saying this a few hours later, but that didn’t make it any less true.

His brain was sure full of them gummy worms now as he clung to his body and to his life. He wasn’t completely sure where he was. Bobby’s? The bunker? His childhood home? Sammy had come to see him earlier, at least the kid had looked like Sammy… No, fuck, that was his grand-nephew, Cas had reminded him of that. Sam, his brother Sam, was in the next room. That's right, he’d told the asshole to give him some space, stop smothering him. He sort of wished he was here now though. And Cas, Cas was here, he knew that, but only because the angel was right in front of him. Cas, his friend, was holding Dean’s hand, talking about what their grand-nieces and nephews were doing in school. Dean could swear he already knew these things, but they still sounded new when Cas said them.

Dean looked over at him, and Cas was smiling.

He tried to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. Cas helped him swallow some cool water. Dean cleared his throat, “Bet you’ve been waiting for this for a while.”

Castiel cocked his head, the smile fading. Fifty some odd years and he still had that same confused look. “Waiting for what?”

“Me to beef it, finally. I know this hasn’t been easy, watching me… seeing me like…” Dean took a shallow breath. “No matter where I go next, at least I won’t be a senile senior citizen.”

“Dean,” Cas said, rubbing the back of Dean’s liver spot-covered hand, “Please listen to me very carefully.”

“Got my hearing aids in, go ahead,” Dean joked.

Cas smiled softly again. “It has been the greatest privilege of my life, my existence, to watch you grow old. I feel honored that you allowed me to experience that. Time’s different for me too,” Cas kissed Dean’s hand, “Space and time were never precious to me, not in the stretch of infinity. Not until you. Not until I was able to see you live your life and live it well.”

Tears welled in the corners of Dean’s eyes. He furiously tried to blink them away, but Cas was already there, dabbing carefully with a handkerchief. “I’m… I’m scared, Cas. I know I shouldn’t be, I’ve seen it all. I’ve beefed it a few times already. But maybe that’s why I’m scared? Because… I know what comes next. What could come next. And this is it, right? No more resets?”

Cas nodded.

Dean took a deep, shuddering breath. “If I don’t end up in heaven-”

“You will.”

“If I don’t, that’s fine, maybe it’s what I deserve, and that’s fair. But… will I see you again?”

“Dean,” Cas said sadly, but with his trademarked firmness, “You are going to paradise. And if for some reason, a completely incorrect and insane reason, you don’t? I dragged your soul out of the flames once, I will do it again. I would do it as many times as I needed to.”

Dean shook his head slightly, “Not fair.”

“It’s not about fair. It’s about the truth. Whether you believe it or not, ET goes home.”

Dean chuckled weakly. He was tired. He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to let go so badly.

He felt the bed move as Cas climbed under the covers with him. The angel curled around him, enveloping him. Dean could swear he felt the brush of feathers cradling him and pulling him closer, but he couldn’t muster the ability to reach for them, stroke them like he used to. “Sleep, Dean. I’ll be here when you wake up. Wherever, whenever here is. That’s where I’ll be. Wherever you go, I’ll go with you.”

“Swear?”

Castiel kissed his forehead. “I swear.”

Dean opened his eyes.

The phrase, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore” popped into his head, but he suspected, greatly, that he was, in fact, in Kansas. The blowing fields of wheat tipped him off to that.

No, wait. That wasn’t a field, it was a… sandy beach. It looked kind of like that beach he and Cas had stumbled upon driving down the Pacific Coast Highway, what was it called? The one where they’d had to hike down from the lookout point? The one where after they’d trudged back up the trail, they’d sat in the car and looked out over the sea as the sun set? The one where Castiel had smiled at him and the light glinted in his blue eyes and Dean had kissed Cas for the first time ever because he just couldn’t stop himself?

Muir Beach, Dean remembered, blushing at the memory.

But just as soon as he’d reached the end of that thought, it wasn’t the ocean anymore. It was a lake. On the lake was a pier. He’d seen that pier before, couldn’t remember exactly where though.

Then without warning, but without alarm, Dean saw someone standing on the end of the dock. A young man with light brown hair and a sweet smile Dean would recognize anywhere.

Jack waved, walking up casually, “Hey, Dean.”

Dean grinned and pulled him into a solid hug. “Jack. I missed you buddy, how have you been? Where, uh… are we in…”

Jack chucked, “I think you know where we are.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know know, this could… I could be dreaming or some shit, and I guess even in a dream you could say whatever I wanted you to say, so-”

“Dean,” Jack stopped him, “This is heaven. You are in heaven.”

A relieved but small smile spread over Dean’s face. “Cool…”

“I’m not usually here to meet people who pass on, but we weren’t going to miss your arrival.”

“We?”

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turned around. There was Cas, beaming at him.

“Cas…” Dean reached to embrace him too, only now noticing that the hands that reached out were not as wrinkled as they’d been when he last saw them. He hugged Cas tightly, relieved more than he wanted to admit. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Cas’s hand went to Dean’s cheek, holding him in a kiss. They separated, foreheads resting against each other. Cas’s eyes twinkled, “We had an appointment.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean took a step back, seeing Jack grinning out of the corner of his eye. “Is, uh… is anyone else coming? Or is this the welcoming party?”

“They’re all waiting for you,” Cas put his hand down, and as he did, it was stopped mid-air, as if resting on something solid. Dean blinked, and there was Baby, new as the day she was made, parked on a long, long road that stretched far out of sight. “Any time you’re ready,” Cas tossed something in Dean’s direction, “we can go.”

Dean caught the keys on instinct, they jingled on the simple ring.

Any time you’re ready, we can go.

He twirled them around the end of his finger a couple times, a thought itching at his brain. Or a couple dozen thoughts.

Cas gave him a look, then turned to Jack, “Could you give us a moment?”

“Yeah, I’ll go get everything ready,” Jack blipped out.

“Get what ready?” Dean asked.

“Dean,” he turned around to face Cas whose brows were knit in worry, bright blue eyes narrowed, “Are you okay?” Dean realized he hadn’t seen Cas clearly for a few years, not since before the cataracts. He’d never gotten completely used to that piercing gaze.

Dean blinked. “Yeah, I… I just… I’m here. Really here.”

“Yes, Dean.”

“And… you’re here.”

Cas gave him that look like he was being patient on purpose, “Yes, Dean.”

“And… fuck,” Dean stood at sudden attention, “I left Sam down there, is he okay?”

Catching Dean's hands in his own, Cas rubbed comforting circles into Dean's skin. "Sam is fine. He was there when you left. That's why I was a little late, Eileen had only just gotten home and I didn't want to leave before she could be there beside him.

"Okay," Dean took a deep breath, concentrating on the physical contact, grounding himself in Cas’s movements, "Okay. I mean I know he's gonna be fine, he was always fine without me," Dean said, almost to himself.

"And you'll see him soon."

The abrupt return of Dean’s panicked look made Cas smile a little, shake his head, "Not that soon, Dean. Don't worry."

"Right. Of course, yeah,” Dean looked around, down the road, the back to his car, out past the waving grain that had returned inexplicably. “Well,” Dean flashed what he thought was a very convincing smile, letting Cas’s hands go as he tossed the keys once and caught them, heading towards the car, “Time to hit the road, huh?”

"Wait,” the suspicious squint was back as Cas caught Dean’s arm, “Something else is bothering you."

Dean turned around, and the ocean was back. The ocean he’d taken a trip to see, had selfishly insisted Cas come along for the ride for.

He sighed. "I just…” Dean ran a hand through his hair, “I don't know, I guess it just don't sit right that I’m… I'm gonna see Mom and Bobby and Jo and Charlie and… everyone. How am I going to look them in the face and not feel guilty that I got decades that they’ll never have? And what did I do with that time, sit on my ass? Judge local car shows? Go to freaking baseball games?"

Cas nodded slowly, simply listening. He then hopped up and sat on the hood of the Impala, shoes and all. Dean shot him an offended look.

“She’s a memory of a car, Dean,” Cas rolled his eyes, “She isn’t going to dent.” He patted the spot next to him.

Dean hesitated, but under Cas’s stare, relented. When he was settled, Castiel laced their fingers together.

“I’ve been trying to convince you for all the time I’ve known you that you’re worthy. That you deserved to be saved. That you deserved to rest.” Cas looked down at their entwined hands, “I don’t think I ever really succeeded.”

“Sorry,” Dean muttered.

“You don’t have to apologize. I know you’ve been doing a thankless job ever since you carried Sam out of your burning home. Shit, even before that,” Dean cocked his head, Cas hardly ever cursed, “you were always trying to be the hero for your mother. Some people are at fault for that,” Cas’s eyebrows furrowed briefly, “but it’s human nature to be hard on ourselves and praiseworthy of others. You, in your limited experience, could not possibly know all of the things that you’ve done that have made a difference. But we’re-”

Jack suddenly blipped into existence, giving Castiel two big thumbs up, then blipped out again.

Dean turned, looking from the space Jack had stood back to Cas then back again, “What-”

Cas shook his head with a smile, “I could never tell you exactly what you’ve meant to the world. But we had a, uh, few volunteers that wanted to show you.”

“Cas, could you quit monologuing for a second and-”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw movement. The endless sea became endless plains which became endless trees, the landscape changing at a rapid rate.

Dean looked back to Cas in confusion, but he didn’t look alarmed. He gave Dean a timid smile, kissed him behind his ear, and whispered, “Just watch.”

Dean watched. For a moment, the scenery couldn’t seem to decide what it wanted to be. Then, it decided not to decide. Grains of sand took the form of towering trees, a picnic table, a bench. Green lake water formed the shape of a small boy, hunched over and scribbling on the table. Lastly the wheat twirled and spun and became an all-too-familiar-looking young man wearing a jacket too big for his frame, walking over to the bench and sitting down across from the kid.

Lucas. The name came to Dean from deep in his memory, he was that quiet kid who drew Dean pictures of the ghost in the lake. The grain animated Dean’s smile as he talked, the figure of Lucas showed Dean his sketches. Their forms dissolved as the scene changed and Dean's form was pulling Lucas out of the water, the sheriff having paid his due.

The figure of Dean left, but Lucas stayed and was joined by his mother, Dean remembered her too. They embraced, and the figure of Lucas grew, changed into a young man, a husband, a father. Soon a half dozen figures were standing there, waving to Dean, and then they disappeared, melting back into water. Lucas was the last to go as he was the first to arrive. He signed a phrase to Dean, and Dean knew the words: Thank you, Dean Winchester.

Then the sand reformed into a schoolgirl, the shapes in the green water plaguing her with images of mirrors and Bloody Marys until Dean stepped in front of her, holding a mirror of grain in front of the cruel, refracted specter. It dissolved, and Dean’s form bade goodbye, but the girl remained. She grew too just like the boy did, becoming a professor, graduating with honors, writing dozens of books, and changing dozens of lives. She smiled, and waved, and dissolved as well.

The shapeshifters appeared next, the sand in the form of Sam’s friend Zach, his sister Becky, and even Dean’s false shifter form, but the true form in the too-large jacket blew them all away, leaving Becky waving goodbye. She too welcomed a family that appeared by her side, and they all looked so happy and grateful to have each other.

Again and again the scenes changed. Green waters showed the cities he had passed through, the homes that were kept from destruction, entire communities that were healed. The water formed and reformed into smiling faces and waving hands. Some of the people, Dean had known on Earth. Many of the places, Dean had remembered driving through. Most of the people and places, however, were foreign to Dean. He lost count of the number of strangers who appeared, the cities he’d never been to. He struggled to keep track as they cycled faster and faster, as numerous as the grains of sand and droplets of water they were made of. It seemed that a whole generation of people, all over the world, would-be victims of an apocalypse they never even knew was happening, knew him. Through words and cheers and song, they retold the tales of Dean and Sam Winchester, the tales they had only learned once they had passed on.

Throughout all of this, Cas pressed his shoulder to Dean’s, his presence grounding but not distracting. Dean’s grip on Cas’s hand grew tighter and tighter. Cas did not let go.

Eventually, the images and figures departed. The sand blew away, the waters swirled and dispersed, and the landscape made its final decision. Only a simple field of golden wheat remained, waving and rippling in the wind.

Only in that newfound silence did Dean notice he was crying. He shook his head, wiping the tears away furiously.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, and Dean turned to face him, vision blurred, Cas looking at him pleadingly. “You sacrificed so much for so many for so long. You don’t have to be strong right now. You don’t have to be strong ever again if you don’t want to. You have done enough.”

Castiel wiped an errant tear from Dean’s cheek, holding his face between his hands firmly, tenderly.

“You are, and always were, enough. Your job is done. Let. Go.”

Dean did.

Cas silently pulled Dean into his shoulder as he sobbed. Dean didn’t even know why he was crying, didn’t know what for. Maybe he was happy. Maybe he was grieving. Maybe he just felt… relief. He wasn’t sure the last time he felt such relief. He wasn’t sure he ever had truly felt it.

After some time, longer than he’d like to admit, Dean sniffed, wiped one hand over his face, and raised his head. Cas was waiting for him, looking at him with care. With love.

“I, uh… I don’t gotta sign any autographs, do I?”

Cas smiled, and pulled Dean in for a kiss. They stayed like that for a bit on the hood of the car, feeling the breeze, breathing in the fresh air. Dean thought he could hear music coming from somewhere, realizing that it was the car’s radio playing softly from the cab. He knew that any time he wanted, he could hop down from the hood of his car, slide into the driver’s seat with the love of his life on the passenger’s side, and carry on his wayward way. Down the road, through the endless fields, towards the ones he had loved and lost. But not yet, not quite yet, because he had time. Maybe in the end, time was all he had ever really wanted, even if he could never allow himself to ask for it.

Infinity stretched out in front of him like the fields of grain. It wasn’t an exciting infinity, but it was his. It was a long road, a family that waited for him, a shoulder to lean on. It was, at long last, a place to lay his weary head to rest.

#destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #destiel fix it #destiel fic #like fields of grain #this is on ao3 but i know if I post an external link tumblr will nuke it so #if you can't tell #I'm taking canon hostage and forcing it to pay reparations

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adhdeancas · 3 years

Text

Hm, mommy issues anybody? Daddy issues anybody? Yeah. Let’s unpack that a little. Not a lot.

Dean runs his hand up the back of his head, feeling the soft spikes of his haircut. It was a stupid tic he’d picked up in his teens, it usually made girls melt. The sensitive guy, the nervous guy, the guy who’s eager to please. It made him look vulnerable. Girls liked that. He started catching himself on it and stopping when he got into his twenties.

His phone buzzes. He looks at it quickly, ignoring the stupid clench in his heart that comes with the action.

One New System Update Available: Install Now?

He sighs and turns it off.

---

Long hours in the car are usually… uneventful. Full of all kinds of empty time that frankly? Dean likes. It’s a nice break from the constant weird noises of sketchy motel rooms with paper-thin walls, from the creaking pipes in the bunker. Mostly, it’s a break from thinking about whatever batshit depressing problems they have up their ass that week.

But this time? The open road is endless, like a really shitty, really boring acid trip. A fucking infinity of his ankle cramping up on the side roads. And Sam always gives him the stink eye when he reaches for his phone, so he can’t even do that. He does make pit stops more often than usual, so he doesn’t crawl out of his own skin, and his glares keep Sam from mentioning it. Maybe he just thinks he’s got the shits. He’ll let him keep thinking that.

At least on the pot he can check his phone.

But time and time again, he lays down a loud paper cover that doesn’t do much to cover up the griminess of the seat and sits down, and unlocks his phone. He waits until he’s fully in the stall to do it, even though he could end the suspense the second he puts Baby in park. Maybe he knows what the answer is gonna be.

What the answer always is.

No New Messages.

He sighs. Story of his life.

---

Sam snatches his phone next time it buzzes in the cup holder before Dean can even reach for it. Dean opens his mouth to gripe, but his stomach ties itself in a knot anyway. He doesn’t know whether he wants it to be… or whether he’s dreading it.

“Who is it?” he tries to say it casually. It sounds forced to him, but Sam doesn’t notice.

“Cas,” he’s got this dopey little smile on his face, and Dean feels his face heat up. For no goddamn reason, it’s not like-

“Why’re you- what’s up? Anything wrong?” Dean knows Sam would’ve said right away if something was wrong, but he wants his brother to spit it out already, and Sam looks like the cat that got the cream. That means he’s about to try to be funny.

“Nah, nah.” Sam grins again, glancing away from the phone finally.

“Well then put it down, Nosy, what the fuck,” He’s already seen the text, whatever it is, so it’s no use, but Dean bristles anyway. It’s not like Cas would’ve sent him anything actually embarrassing, right? What was the last thing they were talking about… the best roadside pancakes? Yeah, so, it couldn’t be anything weird. Well, it’s Cas, so it could always be something weird. But nothing incriminating. Hell, Sam’s accidentally opened a nude a girl sent him one time so it’s not like it could be worse than that. Not like Cas is sending him nudes. Dean cracks a grin at the thought of what a thirst trap would look like for Cas. Probably him in a, like, half unbuttoned button up laid out in a library chair. Maybe a book in hand. An angel blade. The weapon! Not-

“He just- he just wanted to update you on where he is in Gilligan’s Island.” There’s a laugh in Sam’s voice, and Dean wants to know why. Probably just the way Cas described it, he always finds this certain way of saying things that’s just… kinda endearing and kinda confusing.

“He’s watching without me? Son of a bitch!”

Sam smirks. “Yeah, he and Jack. Jack finished Pirates of the Carribean and he wanted more island stuff.”

Dean shakes his head. “Motherfuckers…”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You want me to text him back for you?”

Dean rolls his shoulders out. “It’s fine, I’ll just do it at the next stop.”

They pull into the next gas station and Dean doesn’t look at his phone again until he’s hidden.

---

Because Sam is a nosy bitch, he asks. Well that, and he’s really tired of the car ride taking twice as long with all the stops they’re making. Dean’s usually a ‘pee in a bottle and don’t pitch a fit’ kind of driver, himself included (Sam’s scarred for life at this point), but now? It’s like they’re traveling with a six year old kid, stopping every hour.

The third stop in Oklahoma alone, he stops Dean. “Okay, do we need to go to the hospital?”

Dean quirks his eyebrows and frowns. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He’s got a clue what they’re talking about.

Sam bitches with his whole face. “We’ve been stopping every four fucking feet for days now, so you’re either dying and we need to go to the ER and get an endoscopy, or-

“An endoscope who?”

Sam doesn’t take the bait. Shocker. “Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes and tries to bypass him. Sam is smarter than he looks. They grab his phone. “Sammy!” This time the word’s annoyed, a warning. Like he used to say right before he really viciously wrestled Sam to the ground and pried the last cookie out of his delicate little hands when they were kids.

Unfortunately, Sam has a height and reach advantage. He holds the phone up and Dean doesn’t have a chance unless- Dean punches him in the stomach. Sam makes a winded noise but manages to keep his arm raised. He glares harder. “You’re gonna talk to me, or you’re not getting this back.”

God, they’re a bitch. “Fine, fuck you. I’ll shit the old fashioned way.” Dean saunters off to the horrifically artificial lights of the gas station, a middle finger waving back just for his little bro.

When he gets back, Sam’s looking much more compassionate. It’s worse. “Dean, why are you so obsessed with your phone? What’re you waiting on?”

Dean rolls his eyes and gets in his car, leaving Sam to follow him. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, dude, I’m just making sure I don’t miss any texts from Mom,” He jams the key into the ignition and steps on the gas. Sam’s door snaps the rest of the way shut with the sudden force and they yelp. “Oh, don’t be a drama queen.”

“You’re the dramatic one right now, Dean.” Sam raises his eyebrows, condescension dripping off his expression. “Did she say she’d text soon?”

“Nope.” Dean shrugs. “Just making sure. It’s kinda my fault she died and then came back to life in a world she didn’t understand; least I can do is pick up the damn phone.”

Sam sighs. “Dean, she’s not gonna freak out if you don’t answer right away. Unclench, man.”

“Unclench?” Dean’s hands tighten on the wheel. “Fuck off, Sam, I’m fine!”

There’s a tense silence. Dean finally starts to think he’s given up this stupid argument, but then Sam shifts in his seat. “She’s not Dad, Dean. She’s gonna come back.”

Dean bites the inside of his cheek. “Never said she was. And Dad always came back.”

“Dean-”

“Sam, just drop it, please-”

“I know how hard it is-”

Dean’s harsh laugh cuts the car into silence again. Sam’s got that kicked puppy look on his face, Dean knows it, and he forces his shoulder to relax before talking. “Look, Sammy, I appreciate it and all but- you have no fucking clue what it’s like for your parent to just fucking… ignore you.”

“I grew up with Dad too, Dean. Hell, he lied to me until I was like 6, he ran out on both of us all the time; I never knew where he was, he never told me where he was going-”

“Yeah, well, he always picked up the phone for you, didn’t he?” Dean lets out a harsh breath and changes lanes just for something to do with his hands.

“He’d stay out for weeks no matter how much I called-”

“Yeah, but he answered. He answered when you called, when you texted, to tell you when he’d be home or to tell you to fuck off and stop calling, but he’d answer.” Dean wipes at his eyebrow. He doesn’t care about this shit. He doesn’t fucking care. “Dad called me when he wanted to talk to me,” then Dean corrects himself “-when he wanted to tell me something. So excuse me… if I get a little antsy. But you- you don’t get it at all.” Dad and Mom, they both left him. Both ditched him as soon as they could and never looked back. Not until they needed him to hunt something. And he got it, he did. But just because he understood didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed. And just because he was pissed didn’t mean he didn’t want them to call. Expect them or hope them to text, just to check in. Something more than coordinates and a link to a news article.

He wants someone to care about him. And fuck if that isn’t the saddest thing anybody’s ever heard.

“Dean…”

It’s been a full five minutes, and Dean’s been waiting for Sam to bring it back up again, to not let this stupid thing go. “What?” he says sullenly.

Sam holds the phone up so Dean can see the screen without taking his eyes totally off the road. It’s a video, and he sees Cas awkwardly holding the camera away from him, two heads of blonde hair behind him. Sam taps the play arrow.

“Hello, Dean.” Jack waves behind him with his usual energy, and Cas looks incredibly fond. “I’m here with Jack and your mother-”

“Mary,” Mary corrects. She crosses her arms uncomfortably, but her expression is soft.

“Mary.” Cas repeats. “I decided to invite her to come by before you and Sam got back- that is, if you’re still coming back today. Sam has been telling me that you’re not going as fast as usual, and while I do appreciate you finally gaining some self-preservation-”

Dean rolls his eyes at the smiling jab.

“- I do hope you’ll get back tonight. Mary has requested we order pizza and chicken wings, and I got the kind you like- the Mango Habenero, but-”

“No promises they’ll be here tomorrow!” Mary calls out jokingly. Sam’s grinning behind the phone now.

“Hurry home! I miss you!” Jack adds sincerely.

The camera turns back toward Cas fully for a moment, and he holds it way too close to his face. “Yes. I- We- just stay safe. And stop worrying. And iHop is superior to Waffle House.”

There’s a rustling noise and then the video cuts off. Sam is grinning smugly from the passenger seat. Dean raises his eyebrows. “So you’ve been updating Cas about me?”

Sam shrugs. “We snapchat.”

“You what?”

“I send him pictures of you when you’re looking really constipated.” Sam clarifies unhelpfully. “Cas and I like to think up reasons for why you’re mad this time- avocado toast, streaks on the windshield when you try to wipe it at the gas station, that one piece of hair that does the weird-”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Dean snaps. “Wait, what about my hair?”

Sam laughs. “Just drive, Dean. For the wings.”

Dean frowns and pushes Baby faster. Well… now he doesn’t have to stop so much.

He makes Sam pee in a bottle next time he has to go.

#dean winchester #mary winchester #john winchester #sam winchester #implied destiel #castiel #jack kline #my writing #ficlet

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prettiestvulcan · 3 years

Text

pairing: enji todoroki x oc

rating: explicit

wc:

summary: a summer getaway gets heated, in more ways than one.

warnings: none

a/n: part of @delirieum's hot milf summer collab!

She’s always had a dislike for summer. The sticky, humid heat. The influx of tourists, which meant more crime. The increase in her number of patrols. Summer meant more work in near unbearable conditions.

There is one plus to summer, though. It means the kids are out of school, so she gets to spend more time with them. Sure, during the day she’s always on patrol, but then she gets to pick them up from her parents’ house and take them to pick out dinner. They don’t have to be in bed for school, so she can introduce them to her favorite childhood movies.

This summer is different, though. Her parents are taking their grandkids on a vacation and she can’t go with them. Work is having their own week-long mandatory ‘vacation’, which involves flying out to an island for team-building exercises disguised as fun. It’s the first time the agency has done something like this, but her guess as to why is as good as anyone else’s.

“Mommy, do you have to go?” Her youngest asks. She kneels before him, giving him a soft smile.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, but mommy has to go because of work.” He pouts, crossing his arms with a frown.

“I don’t want you to go.” Isaac looks close to tears. “I don’t want to go with Nanny and Pappy. I want to go with Mommy.”

“Isaac,” she brushes tears from his cheeks with a thumb. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Mommy will be back. And I’ll call every night before bedtime.”

“Promise?” He sniffles. She nods, holding out her pinky. He grins, wrapping his much smaller pinky around hers.

“I pinky-promise,” she answers. His tears have started to dry up.

“Okay,” he finally relents. “I’ll go with Nanny and Pappy.”

“That’s my boy,” she ruffles his hair, the curls catching occasionally. He doesn’t seem to notice.

He runs off towards the front door, giggling the whole way. She stands, watching him go with a smile. He’s always been a cheerful kid, willing to do as she asks. She’s grateful for it. However, her eldest isn’t as agreeable. Perhaps being close to ten, she’s just going through a face. She was a fussy baby, though, so something tells her she just takes too much after her father.

“Why do I have to go?” Hazel starts. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”

“Hazel,” she reproaches. “I don’t have time to find you a babysitter. Nanny and Pappy already agreed to take you somewhere fun.”

“Ugh,” she groans. “Whatever, mom.” Hazel storms off without another word. She frowns, watching her go. If only there was some way she could make both of them happy. She hadn’t lied, though; the trip for work was very sudden and she didn’t have time to look for a babysitter. It was only through luck that her parents had agreed to take them on vacation with them this year. Perhaps because they were both old enough not to need as much supervision and constant care.

With a sigh, she grabs her suitcase once more and climbs into the taxi. She really wishes she could have given Hazel a goodbye hug, but she knows her daughter well enough to know that wouldn’t have gone down easily. There would have been a lot of yelling and pushing, possibly some kicking. She really hopes Hazel doesn’t regret not saying goodbye.

The taxi drops her off outside the entrance of the airport. She takes her suitcase from the trunk before heading inside. The layout is huge, but everything is clearly marked and mapped. She has no issues finding the check-in for the airline. Finding the gate is even easier, since each gate is in a specific order. She sits down to wait for their boarding time, taking her phone out to make sure there are no calls or texts from her parents. Thankfully, there are none so everything must be alright.

She decides to look around the area from her seat, spotting several familiar faces in the seats around her. They all seem absorbed in their own activities, so she leaves them be. She was never really familiar with any of the other sidekicks, anyway. Being a single parent meant she didn’t have much time for get-togethers, so she was always turning down invites after patrols. They’re always friendly towards her, however, so she thinks they’re all on good terms. They probably understand her hesitance to leave her kids at home with the babysitter longer than needed.

After a while, it’s time to board the plane. It’s her first time flying since before Isaac was born, but she still remembers the drill. Show your boarding pass, get it scanned, find your seat. It’s very straightforward. Everything about the trip so far has been, which is something she’s grateful for. She’s not a huge fan of surprises. Never has been. Although she supposes Isaac and Hazel are two surprises she absolutely couldn’t live without.

Soon, the pre-flight announcements are beginning. She’s surprised to see no one in the seat beside her. It’s nearly a full plane, though she’s not going to complain. It just means she has more room to stretch out. She listens to the pre-flight announcements, turning off her phone as instructed. She takes her in-flight bag off the floor, putting it in the empty seat beside her. She couldn’t quite reach the overhead bin and had been too embarrassed to ask for help.

The plane takes off, bringing with it a slew of emotions. She’s excited to be going somewhere, even if it’s for work, but she’s going to miss her kids. Not being able to see them for an entire week? It’s an entirely new experience for her. She’s been home with them basically since they were each born. She’s been there to kiss ouchies better, to read them stories before bed, tuck them in with a kiss on their foreheads. She’s been there to wipe their tears, to make them smile and laugh. Being away from them will be a new experience for all of them, but at least they won’t be completely alone. She trusts her parents to take care of them, just like they cared for her as a child.

She takes comfort in that thought, relaxing back against the seat. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been the whole time, but once she relaxes the soreness of her muscles makes itself known. She rubs at her thigh, trying to soothe some of the pain. It works, to some degree. She’ll just have to remind herself to relax and take something for the pain once the plane lands.

She rests her head against the headrest, closing her eyes. Nothing wrong with a nap on the flight. Just as long as the turbulence of landing wakes her, she’ll be fine. She feels herself slipping into unconsciousness….

The island is beyond anything she could have imagined. It’s lush and tropical, palm trees dotted everywhere. The air smells like salt from the sea, but somehow still refreshing compared to city air. Even the hotel is magnificent. There’s an indoor spa! She’s never stayed anywhere with its own spa.

They arrive late the first day, so they’re told to find their rooms and get settled in. They’ll receive instructions the next day, according to Burnin who is giving the orders. She wonders if Endeavor will show or if this whole event is being organized by Burnin. She’s certainly capable of doing it.

She spends the first night unpacking and familiarizing herself with the hotel. There’s so many extra amenities and she hopes she has time to try out some of them. She takes photos of the view from her hotel window, sending it to her parents so they can show Isaac and Hazel. When she’s finished exploring, she retires to her room and makes the promised call.

Everyone is doing great, of course. They also made it to their hotel, which Isaac excitedly informs her has an indoor pool. Hazel is much less talkative, but seems to be in high spirits even if she doesn’t outright say it. She’s glad they’re enjoying their trip so far and hopes they keep up the momentum. When they finish swapping stories, she wishes them goodnight and tells them she’ll talk more tomorrow.

The next day, they all have breakfast in the hotel’s café before convening outside. It’s more upscale dining than what she’d have expected. Once outside, Burnin gathers everyone close before speaking.

“Hello, everyone!” Her voice easily carries across the crowd. “I hope you’re ready for a fun week!”

There are cheers from the other sidekicks.

“Well, have I got a surprise for all of you.” She’s close enough to see Burnin grin. “There’s no agenda for this week, aside from getting out there and having fun together!”

No agenda? She’s a little surprised by that. She thought this was a mandatory team-building trip, not just a vacation. She feels conflicted. On one hand, she’s glad for the opportunity. On the other, she had fully expected the week to be planned out for her so now she’s at a loss.

What does one even do on vacation? It’s been eighteen years since she’s done anything by herself. Sure, she’s taken weekend trips with Hazel and Isaac but never alone. And never somewhere so opulent or tropical. She doesn’t know what to do with herself now.

“Now get out there and have fun!” She snaps back to reality at the sound of everyone’s cheers, before shuffling back inside the hotel. Whatever she wants to do, huh?

She changes into something more comfortable, having expected there to be training. Thankfully, she had thought ahead and packed extra clothes on the off-chance there was any free time. It looks like her foresight had come in handy, as she takes out her bathing suit and coverup. Nothing like a trip to the beach.

She’s surprised that there’s no rigorous training. Endeavor is known for running a tight ship, so this whole trip seems out of character. Then again, ever since his last major fight, something had changed. He’s still just as strict, but he seems almost approachable now. A little more lenient. She’s certainly not as terrified of being called to his office anymore.

She wonders if he’s come on this trip, as well, or if he’s staying back at the office. He could use the trip, she feels. He’s always working so hard. Besides, she swears she saw his youngest in the crowd. If his son is here, surely he would’ve come as well.

Someone clears their throat behind her and she startles, realizing she’s just been staring at the open elevator doors. She shakes her head, murmuring an apology, and enters the elevator. The figure behind her enters, as well, and as she turns her eyes go wide.

“Endeavor, sir,” she hurries to greets, giving a polite bow. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

He doesn’t say anything, just looks at her with a grimace. She wonders if she’s said something wrong before he grumbles something under his breath, inclining his head in acknowledgment. He doesn’t say anything else, but she’s shocked to see him. She wants to comment on it, but the elevator arrives at the ground floor before she can figure it out.

“Ah, Endeavor, sir,” she calls out without thinking.

“Please call me Enji.” She can’t help the eyebrow that raises. “We’re on vacation. I’m not your boss right now.”

“Of course, Enji, sir.” He doesn’t look pleased with the added ‘sir’ so she tries again. “Alright. Enji.” It feels awkward coming out of her mouth. He’s been her boss for the better part of a decade and never once called him by name.

He seems pleased by the amendment on her part, though it’s hard to tell with him. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, trying to figure out why she even called out to him. He waits, turquoise eyes trained on her.

“Would you like to come to the beach with me?” She almost smacks herself with how bold she’s being. Sure, he’s been nice to her over the past few months, but that doesn’t mean he wants to be friendly.

He looks just as surprised by the offer, one eyebrow raised. She purses her lips to keep from saying anything more, waiting on an answer. Her heart pounds in her chest. Finally, he speaks.

“You’re going to the beach?” She nods. “I’ll accompany you. I was headed there regardless.”

She takes in his appearance for the first time, noting the swim shorts. He’s wearing a white t-shirt, a towel slung over his shoulders. She nods to show she understands, eyes moving back up his hulking frame, to find his eyes also looking over her.

Had she just been caught checking out her boss?

Had she just caught her boss checking her out?

The thought brings warmth to her cheeks. She ducks her head down, though she’s sure he’s already seen her blush. She decides to take the lead, brushing past him towards the door. She can feel him follow, after a few tense seconds.

She feels a little silly. She’s too old to be checking out other men, let alone her boss. It doesn’t matter if he’s older; he has his own family. She knows he has at least three kids, though she’s never heard about their mother. He has to be married, though. There’s no way a man like him hasn’t been snatched up.

She tries to push those thoughts aside, instead focusing on walking down to the beach. It’s not far from the hotel; might as well consider it the backyard. The closer they get, the more of the ocean she can smell. She’s not sure it’s an entirely pleasant scent.

There isn’t much in the way of conversation. For her, it’s just too awkward to start one and he’s not exactly known for being chatty. She’s sure he doesn’t find it awkward at all, the silence. But she does.

As she scrambles to come up with something to say, they finally arrive at the beach. There’s a few others on the beach, rainbow color of towels spread along the sand. She tries to find a spot some distance from the main crowd, not wanting to interrupt or intrude.

She expects him to part once they reach the beach, but he keeps pace with her easily. She did invite him to come with, but she hadn’t actually expected him to follow through. Sure, they talk at work about work. But conversations about patrols are entirely different from conversations about life and the weather.

They lay their towels out, red and blue side by side. It’s a little closer than she’d been expecting, but still a respectable distance apart. She hesitates a brief moment before pulling her coverup off, folding it and setting it aside. She has nothing to be embarrassed about.

Hero work has been good to her. Even after two kids, her physique is still desirable. She’s not exactly slim, but she’s muscular enough to hide the chub from two kids. She has very few major scars, the most notable being the faded white scar on her right leg from a piece of metal out of a falling building. She’s lucky it didn’t take her entire leg.

“I’m going to swim,” she announces to her company. He inclines his head, again not saying anything. She leaves him where he’s reclining on his towel, heading down to the water.

She feels more comfortable in the water. It’s cool and refreshing, compared to the sticky heat on the beach. She takes her time in the water, swimming around and floating. She even rides a few waves to the shore before swimming back out. When she’s had enough, she returns to her towel.

Endeavor—Enji, she corrects herself. He’s still laid out on his towel, but his eyes open when he hears her approach. She flops down onto her towel, feeling energized after her swim. She turns her head to face Enji, having felt his eyes on her.

He’s wearing an inscrutable expression. He’s not exactly easy to read, but it looks as if he’s taking extra care not to express any emotion. She offers him a smile, not sure what to do or say. He doesn’t return it, but he does finally look away.

She peers up at the clear blue sky, wondering what kind of exchange that was. She rests her arms behind her head, closing her eyes. It’s a vacation. She’s going to get in as many naps as possible….

She wakes sometimes later, having been shaken awake. She blinks a few times to clear the sleep from her vision.

“The tide is coming in,” Enji tells her. She nods to show her understanding before sitting up. She stretches with a yawn. “Dinner?”

She’s not sure if it’s a question or a demand.

“Sure,” she agrees. “I could go for something to eat.” She stands, grabbing her towel. She shakes off as much sand as possible before slipping her coverup back on.

“We should change at the hotel,” he says.

“Good idea.” She looks down at herself. “A quick shower might be good, too.” She gives him a crooked smile. He nods and she swears she sees the ghost of a smile on his lips.

She feels significantly less uncomfortable on the walk back, perhaps because he’s actually not that scary. He’s just not very talkative. And if she doesn’t think about how he’s her boss, it’s almost like hanging out with a friend. A very new friend. Okay, maybe it’s still a little awkward.

Dinner is a quick and quiet affair. He doesn’t say much and she isn’t sure what to say. When they finish, they bid each other a good night and go their separate ways. She takes the time to call her parents so she can speak with Isaac and Hazel. They tell her all about their trip so far and she shares hers.

“You spoke with Mr. Endeavor?” Isaac seems in awe.

“Yeah, sweetie. I spoke with Mr. Endeavor.”

“Can you get his autograph for me?” She can hear the excitement in his voice.

“His autograph?” She repeats.

“Yes!” Isaac is definitely bouncing on the other end. “I saw him on the TV! He’s my new favorite Hero!” She chuckles.

“Sure thing, sweetie. I’ll get his autograph for you.” It shouldn’t be too difficult. He is her boss and she’s sure he’s used to being asked for it.

“You’re the best, Mommy!” She smiles at that.

“Love you, too, sweetie.”

“Okay, I’m gonna give the phone to Hazel now.” There’s a shuffling noise before she hears Hazel’s voice.

“How are things going, Mom?”

“They’re going well,” she answers. “How are you doing?”

“It’s okay.” She hears Hazel shrug. “Nanny took me to the museum, so I guess it’s alright.”

“The museum?” She prompts. “Which one?”

“The Hero Museum,” there’s a smile in her voice. “It was pretty cool.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” She really is. Hazel is a difficult child sometimes, but her interests aren’t outside the realm of any other ten-year-old. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, Mom,” Hazel huffs. “I’m giving you back to Nanny now.” More noise as the phone is swapped to another.

She talks to her mom for a few more minutes, just to be sure the kids are behaving. Her mom assures her that everything is fine and to enjoy her own vacation.

The next day is spent much the same: at the beach with her boss. Enji. She keeps having to remind herself. She does manage to get his autograph, explaining it’s for her youngest. He asks about him, and she’s more than happy to talk about her kids.

He speaks about his own children, much older than her own, but there’s pride in his voice as he speaks about them. She can’t help but smile, her laughter coming freely when he tells embarrassing stories about them. It feels like she’s getting to know him and she can’t help but like what she’s seeing.

It’s hard not to find him physically attractive, but she’s old enough to not be distracted by a pretty body. She’s worked for his agency for nearly ten years; she’s long gotten used to the way he looks. But something about their conversations has her reassessing him.

The third day on the island, something feels different between them. He feels warmer, somehow. It isn’t exactly anything particular he does. It’s in the way they lean towards each other when they speak, the way they keep bumping into each other, the way they keep finding ways to spend time together. It’s a combination of all these things that has her heart pounding when she sees him.

She decides to make a move. Either he ignores it or he reciprocates. Either way, there’s no harm done. They’re on vacation. Perhaps she’s feeling a little risky because of it. Away from work, away from her kids, she’s feeling a little more brave than usual.

It’s been years since she last was with anyone. After Isaac’s father left, she swore off dating and catching feelings in general. It was just too much of a hassle. Why now, after all these years, she isn’t sure. Something about it just feels different. Feels right.

They go out for dinner as usual, but she invites him to the hotel bar afterwards. She doesn’t fully expect him to agree, so when he does she’s feeling more confident. They sit next to each other at the near empty hotel bar, drinks in hand.

When she makes a joke, laughing at it while he gives a slight grin, she reaches out to put her hand on his arm. He looks surprised by it at first, eyes going slightly wider. She wonders for a brief moment if she’s overstepped, pulling her hand back, but he quickly grabs it before she can withdraw.

They stare at one another, neither saying anything. It’s like he’s waiting for a signal. She nods. He moves into action, pulling her up from her seat. He keeps their fingers entwined, tugging her along to the elevator.

It’s actually happening, she realizes, as she leads him to her hotel room. She didn’t think this would ever actually happen.

He presses her against the hotel door, mouth hot and heavy on hers. She grasps at his arms, his shirt, anything she can reach to keep herself afloat. She’s quickly giving in, sinking further into his desires. She doesn’t think she wants to fight them anymore.

His mouth moves down to her neck, biting and kissing. She can’t help the sounds spilling from her and just hopes no one in the rooms around can hear her. His hands—big, so big—tug at her dress until she’s slipping the straps from her shoulders and letting it fall to the ground.

His bright turquoise eyes stare at her, wearing nothing more than a pair of lacy underwear. She feels intimidated by that heavy gaze, feels the urge to cover herself.

“Don’t,” he growls as he grabs her hands, pulling them away. “Let me see you.”

She lets her hands fall to the side, trying not to feel so self-conscious. She tries not to think of all the stretch marks across her belly and thighs, on the tops of her breasts. She tries to remind herself that they wouldn’t be here if he didn’t see something desirable about her body.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, cupping a breast. It fits perfectly in his hand, his thumb rubbing circles against her nipple. She squirms, a moan slipping from her parted lips.

“You too,” she tosses back. “I want to see you, too.” He grins, something crooked and slightly menacing. But he pulls away from her, tugging off his shirt and shorts. She reaches for the last piece separating them from each other, pulling them down.

She can’t help but stare. She knew he was a large man, but it couldn’t have prepared her for how proportionate that made him. Long and thick, red at the head. She wraps her hand around him as best she can, giving a few short tugs, and hears him groan. Will it even fit?

She doesn’t have much more room for thought as he pulls her in for another kiss, tugging her towards the bed. She goes willingly, wanting nothing more than to feel him against her. He nibbles at her bottom lip and she licks at his; soon their tongues tangle together. It’s been so long since she’s been with anyone like this. She hopes she can make it as good for him as it feels for her.

She lays on the bed, situating herself against the pillows. She beckons him, wanting to close the distance between them. He lays himself atop her, balanced by his hands on either side of her hips. He kisses her, sweeter this time. Not as desperate.

He kisses a path down her neck, across her shoulder, before dipping to take a nipple into his mouth. She shudders, pleasure welling within her. She runs a hand through his hair, red strands tickling between her fingers. He hums, licking and sucking her nipples.

“Enji,” she whines, pushing on his head. He chuckles, moving lower. He plants kisses across her stomach, still a little pudgy from her last pregnancy nearly eight years ago. She feels self-conscious about it, but the way he worships her body makes it a little better.

Finally, he’s exactly where she wants him. He wastes no time, diving right into his task. Her head knocks against the headboard, but the brief bloom of pain is nothing compared to the sensation between her legs.

He eats her out like a man starved. A little uncoordinated, but enthusiastic. His tongue circles her clit before flicking it, a single thick finger toying with her hole. She grips the blankets beneath them, unable to stop the noises slipping out of her kiss-swollen lips.

He slips a single finger in finally. It’s as thick as two of her own, but she knows she’s going to need the preparation if he’s going inside of her. She squirms, wanting to clamp her legs shut, but his shoulders keep her spread. She has no choice but to give in to the onslaught of sensations.

And give in she does. Head thrown back, mouth open and spilling profanity with his name mixed in. She couldn’t keep quiet if she wanted to and she can tell he definitely doesn’t want her to keep quiet. That single finger pumps in and out, stretching her, before he adds a second.

It’s almost too much, but she forces her body to relax. She’s soaking, giving him plenty to work with. His spit and her fluids ease the way for that second finger. She moans, pressing down against him. She feels his laughter, a gentle vibration through her cunt.

“Please,” she begs. “Want you inside.”

She’s ready for it. She can handle it. He pulls off, looking up at her, and she can’t help but flush at the sight of him. His chin is wet with her juices, his lips swollen. He shifts up, towering above her, and reaches down to line himself up.

Her mouth opens on a silent moan as he pushes in, stretching her beyond what she thought she was capable of. It’s painful at first, but as she has time to adjust it morphs into pleasure.

“Finally,” his voice rumbles through her. “Been wanting to do this.”

She whines, pushing her hips down and against him. She needs him to move already. It’s been ages since she last got fucked and she’s eager for it. She wants him to pound her into the mattress until she forgets who she is.

He delivers on those fantasies. He fucks into her roughly and with abandon, until she’s moaning his name and his name only. He shoves two of his fingers into her mouth and she sucks on them, drool seeping from the corner of her mouth. She doesn’t even care, too busy with the feel of him.

She doesn’t even care anymore when things changed between them. The only thing she cares about in that moment is coming around his cock. She can worry about feelings and emotions later. Right now, she’s only focused on reaching that high.

He reaches between them to roll his thumb against her clit and she can feel her eyes roll to the back of her head. Just a few circles and she’s cumming hard around his cock. He fucks her through it, fingers shoved deep in her mouth.

When she comes down, she takes a moment to appreciate the fucked out look on his face. The squinting of his eyes as he concentrates, the sweat beading on his temples, and the slack-jawed grunts and groans spilling from his lips.

“Inside,” she tells him. “Come inside me.” It’s a risky request, but she wants it. He does, too, judging by the way his thrusts speed up until he growls and spills inside of her.

When he pulls up, she feels his semen trickle down the inside of her thighs. He collapses onto the bed beside her, but searches for her hand among the sheets. He laces their fingers together and she smiles up at the ceiling.

The mood is ruined by the sound of her ringtone, however. She’s tempted not to answer, but it might be her parents calling about the kids. With a sigh and a silent promise to return, she gets out of the bed to answer.

“Mommy!” Her son, Isaac, shouts from the other side. “Are you coming home yet?”

“Not yet, sweetie,” she laughs. “In a few more days.”

“Awww,” he pouts. “You’re with Mr. Endeavor, right, mommy?”

“Yeah,” her voice is soft with affection as she gazes towards the bed, where Enji is lounging.

“Did you get his autograph for me?” She chuckles, but confirms she did.. “Yay! You’re the best, mommy!”

Isaac hands the phone off to her mother, who updates her on her eldest who refuses to come to the phone. It’s just like Hazel to be so stubborn. They’re doing fine, her mother assures her, and tells her to enjoy her only vacation in eight years. She just laughs, but promises to have as much fun as possible.

When she’s finished, she sets her phone back down on the desk and wanders back to the bed. Enji greets her with open arms and she rests her head on his chest. She listens to his heartbeat, letting it lull her to sleep.

Best getaway ever, is her final thought before she falls asleep.

#🖖🏻.writes #bnha #endeavor x oc

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letsperaltiago · 3 years

Text

a merry little christmas

Welcome to (once again belated) door four of four!

Behind my Christmas calendar’s fourth door is a... baby’s first christmas, pure fluff oneshot ♥️

Summary: It's Baby's First Christmas and Jake and Amy are taking it all in - both presents and tiny surprises from their son. Pure domestic fluff for days.

Rating: G

Words: 2.2k

Read on AO3 here

Right then and there keeping a straight face, or just anything that looks somewhat close to it, is beyond impossible.

It’s Christmas morning, six AM to be more precise, and the still rather new, little family of three is slowly making their way through the presents waiting for them under this years’ Christmas tree. As a matter of fact, it’s rather Jake opening gifts meanwhile Amy is on the couch with their two-month-old son eating his second breakfast - that is if his previous meal at three AM can be considered breakfast. Jake likes to call those meals Midnight Mac Snacks.

“They really need to communicate more,” Amy chuckles, which causes her chest to jolt just the tiniest bit, alas apparently enough that it earns her a grumpy little cry from Mac to which she immediately reacts by stroking and repositioning the tiny infant’s head. “No need to complain, Mr. Mac. Mommy and daddy are just having some fun.”

“He’s bitter because all he got for Christmas is ‘Baby’s first Christmas’-ornaments.” Jake hasn’t stopped laughing since he opened the third ornament, from auntie Roro, which came after uncle Charles’ ornament. Upon unpacking this second ornament, from Charles, matching the first ornament from Holt, it didn’t cause much worry. The new parents simply saw it as a matching coincidence and they’d just keep both. Although upon unpacking a third one, they should’ve known: it was a perfect, hilarious 99th precinct-disaster.

Fast forward to present time, Jake is sat on the living room floor with not three but six ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ ornaments for his son. Sure, they’re all different styles and designs but Jake can’t help but laugh. In retrospect, he and Amy had told the squad that baby Mac didn’t need anything grand for Christmas as he was still so small and had everything he needed so far. They told their friends to save the money and spoil Mac for next Christmas, a Christmas he’d understand much better than the current. Turns out great minds think alike and everyone’s creative take on Mac’s gift had been the same.

“It’s kind of cute that they all had the same idea.” Mac has gone back to quietly suckling on Amy’s breast, allowing her time to chime in on perhaps this Christmas’ funniest moment yet. It’s too soon to declare it the funniest as they’re headed to a huge Santiago Christmas-dinner in the evening and anything can happen there.

For Christmas morning though they very early on, already before Amy gave birth, decided to stay home as they knew it’s what they’d prefer with their very new son. Sitting there, in the moment, looking at gifts from their incredible friends and Mac quietly eating in the lights coming from the Christmas tree, they’re both thankful to have made that choice. Sure, Santiago-Christmas morning was an event that you didn’t want to miss out on but this year, with very few hours of sleep behind them and vomit on both clothes and hair, it’s nice to be able to soak in the sweet surrender of their little trinity.

“We do have the best friends.” He picks up the ornaments, hanging them on his fingers to put on display for his wife. “What do we do with these?” A sheepish smile replaces the goofy grin from before.

“I don’t know…”

The doubt on Amy’s face, biting her lip, thinking hard, is clear as day which is understandable since Jake himself doesn’t hold the answer for their little dilemma. Giving them back to their respective giver is not an option - what would Holt do with a ‘Baby’s First Christmas Ornament’? - and getting a refund also seems too cold. Fact is that each of their friends has had the same idea: they wanted to mark and somehow be a part of Mac’s first Christmas. Jake and Amy can’t, nor want to, take that away from their son nor their friends. All in all, there seems to be no good solution but one: keep all six ornaments.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Jake cocks an eyebrow, implicitly suggesting what his wife is already thinking.

“If you’re thinking that we should keep them all and put them on the tree, then yes, I am thinking what you’re thinking.”

At just the right time, almost as if he’s agreeing, Mac lets go of his mom’s nipple before letting out a small, hazy gurgling sound. A sound he’s never made before. Both parents freeze on the spot, forgetting all and everything about the ornament-issue.

“Did you hear that?” Amy asks, making it sound as if she doesn’t believe her ears and a second opinion is needed. Having studied all and everything for her first child’s arrival, everything this could possibly imply, Amy shouldn’t be surprised that her two-month-old is finally introducing his first small noises. The fact resides very clearly on the Milestones to Expect-index, page 2, in her ‘Two month’-binder. Yet here she is, Jake right there with her, surprised by this new accomplishment of her newborn - one of many accomplishments that she both loves and, even two months in, still is a bit nervous about discovering as she just rather know her baby fully by heart already. On those occasions where Mac’s changing, something she swears happens daily, makes her feel uneasy as if she doesn’t know him at all, she holds onto Jake’s reasoning: Some tests can’t be studied for.

And no matter how much she hates that fact, Amy knows her husband is right and she does love him for reminding her whenever she happens to fall down a spiral of doubt and frantically tries to grasp for the control that lies within facts, books, and lists.

Jake jumps from his spot on the floor as if it were lava and falls into place beside her on the couch where he can hover over his incredible son.

“I did but I didn’t fully realize where it came from right away, but oh my gosh, Ames! Our son is a genius!”

“Perhaps… Or simply in accordance with average-”

“No, Amy - a genius! Like his parents.”

Her husband looking as if he could burst any second, a firecracker of sorts and there’s no stopping the explosion, Amy hurries to put down her before lifted shirt and places Mac against her shoulder. Here she hopes he can both burp and, hopefully, make another glorious sound for them to be proud of. Jake leans in as though he and Mac are to exchange secrets behind Amy’s back and the milk-drunk infant, unable to control a whole lot, waves around his arm and just so happens to grab Jake’s index finger. During these first two months of Mac’s life, this has happened a few times already, the first time being at the hospital which caused Jake to cry happy tears Still, every single time, Jake feels reaffirmed by the fact that creating this tiny human being is one of his best decisions ever - that and telling Amy Santiago that he wished something could happen between them - romantic stylez.

“C’mon, mister. Show daddy how you talk.” Jake coos even though the little man of the moment seems far from interested in or bothered by his parents’ admiration and swooning over his new talent. His mommy patting his back does feel good though, especially when it helps a burp escape and Jake, of course, has to laugh because Mac is truly and fiercely his son. “Now that’s talking!”

“Not what I had in mind but nice to know he’s burped.” Amy chimes in and replaces the soft patting with small loving strokes, hoping to soothe her boy to sleep as the next step in his ‘eat, burp, sleep’-routine - even if Amy wishes Mac would make another sound. Just to confirm that she wasn’t hallucinating before.

“Make a sound for mommy, baby. Just a tiny one.” Amy takes her turn cooing a plea but it happens to be very much in vain.

“Aaand he’s dozed off,” Jake chuckles quietly whilst using his thumb to caress the tiny fist still wrapped around his index fingers, a fist that doesn’t let go even though the owner is already fast asleep with a mix of drool and milk caught in the corner of the gaping mouth.

“That was fast.”

“I don’t blame him. Life is exhausting.” Jake is carefully pecking his son’s head covered by thing, soft, black hair and even though Mac on her shoulder blocks the view, Amy smiles and wonders how she got to lucky with these two boys.

“Bedtime?” Amy asks, expectant of confirmation of whether or not Mac is far enough gone to be moved without waking up and throwing a tantrum that’ll mean they’ll have to spend another half hour or so lulling him back to sleep.

“I sure wouldn’t mind. I did prepare breakfast though.” It comes out mid-yawn, proving Jake’s point further, as he nods his head in the direction of the pancakes, courtesy of Jake, and hot cocoa, courtesy of the local bakery that has blessed their lives by opening at five AM, waiting for them in the kitchen.

“Not you, silly. McClane. You and I are definitely having that delicious cocoa. The smell of it has been tempting me since I sat down to feed.”

They mostly call him Mac. Mac or a thousand other things like Mr. Mac, Magic Mac, baby, monkey - one time, macadamia nut - and the options are limitless and renewed every day. Jake doesn’t know for sure but this might be the reason why the full name McClane being said, the context being that it’s his son’s name, makes him feel butterflies in his belly. Either that or because he still can’t believe they named their son that. Perhaps it’s a bit of both reasons.

“Still can’t believe you agreed to that name.”

“Must’ve been a moment of weakness for me. I was pregnant and delusional.”

Amy teases and proceeds to carefully remove sleeping Mac from his spot on her shoulder, relocating him to the safety of her cradling arms.

“Delusional from the incredible round of sexy timez we had just prior to picking his name.”

“Jake,” she scolds as if the sleeping baby, which doesn’t even grasp the concept of speaking yet, were to be scarred by their explicit flirting.

“What?”

Amy’s already up on her feet, heads down the hall and into their bedroom with Jake close on her heels. “I remember it so vividly.” Jake points to their bed. “We were right here, post incredible sex, and we got talking about baby names because a new suggestion had stroked your mind right before I came in and wooed you with my good, amazingly hot looks.” Amy’s head whips around from where’s she’s just focused on placing Mac in his cradle, double-checking that he’s still asleep, now displaying a cocked brow and overall expression that challenges his recollections of that conclusive night. Defeat hits him and his shoulders drop with a sigh.

“Okay, you were seven months pregnant and going through a particularly horny phase - which I, by the way, loved - and I, being a dutiful husband, couldn’t decline your explicit requests. But I do still stand by the fact that I boinked my way to the name McClane.”

“Oh my god,” Amy groans, partly in reaction to her husband, partly in reaction to her sore back making an appearance when she straightens up from tugging in the baby. “Stop besmearing our child’s name. I can still change my mind.”

“I’m right though.” In the meantime, Jake has approached his wife and wraps his arms around her. Pulling her closer, back to chest, and she instantly relaxes under the pecks he places on her neck. “And it’s an amazing name for an amazing little human.”

They smile in unison as they admire the life they created, carelessly and contently sleeping Christmas morning away, before them. Wrapped up in her husband’s arms and their perfect little son to look at, a fuzzy feeling that is way beyond and greater than happiness flows through Amy’s veins. The pecks to her sweaty and tired-feeling skin pick back up where they left off, systematically and how he knows she likes it, going around her neck and shoulder-area.

“I really wanna give in to how inappropriately horny you’ve suddenly made me, but…” she trails off with a sigh.

“You can’t stop thinking about the hot cocoa.” He finishes her sentence and the pecks are replaced by a muffled chuckle that tickles her skin. “It’s okay, Ames. I’m right there with you.”

“Thank God,” she groans.

“Hot cocoa and a Christmas movie we can fall back asleep to?”

This suggestion of Jake’s that will allow Amy to give into her tiredness is what she’s wanted to hear all morning.

“Sounds perfect. Grab the baby monitor?” She turns around to follow him back to their kitchen only to see him already holding the gadget with a tired, knowing smile plastered across his face and to Amy, even with his messy curls and shirt clad with stains of baby-vomit, her husband looks absolutely perfect.

Baby’s First Christmas might just be her favorite Christmas so far.

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clumsyracconking · 3 years

Text

A villain

Ch.13 (1146 words)

I describe Shinsou as slightly taller because of his hair, the two are actually the same height according to google, also I imagine Hitoshi as someone who listens to Cameron Sanderson’s cover of do re mi and pacify her in his free time.

The two stared at each other for a moment before the slightly taller one spoke. “I think you should be answering my questions first considering you’ve been ‘missing’ for the last 3 days the cops and media think you were kidnapped yet here you are smoking in an alleyway with black hair for some reason, is that a body behind you? What the fuck Sho?”

Shinsou was indeed right about all of what he’d said or rather observed. There was a body behind Todoroki. He did have black hair now thanks to Togas insistence and Dabi and Hawks being the only ones with hair dye. He had been missing for around 3 days now and the media was having a field day with his ‘kidnapping’, but is it really a kidnapping if said kid wanted to go?

“Oh him, yeah he was being rude. Wanna go somewhere so we can actually talk before my brother and friends start to wonder where I went, cause they’ve either not noticed or they’ve flipped the bar upside down and mist man is berating them.” Todoroki was already walking away prompting Shinsou to follow him but still giving him a choice.

Weaving through the alleys expertly Shoto looked behind him to see if his ex peer was following him, he was.

“Where the hell were you kid?!” Hawks said not really yelling but it wasn’t his normal tone of voice, gesturing towards Shinso he asked, “who’s that? If he’s who I’m 90% sure he is we have a body to dispose of.”

“What is it with you and threatening to kill every minor inconvenience, first me now him, like damn bitch.” Shoto moved past Hawks, had he thought Hitoshi was a threat he wouldn't have brought him here. “I was on a walk when I ran into dear ol’ Hitoshi here, and if I thought he would be a problem for any of us he would be in an alley somewhere dead.” He grabbed Hitoshi’s hand and pulled the slightly dumbfounded boy up the stairs with him going towards Togas room because he’d still yet to get his own.

As soon as the door was shut behind him Shoto was pinned against the wall. “Glad to know you missed me babe.”

“You fucking asshole, you couldve at least told me you were gonna dip. And before you say anything we both know I don’t give a fuck about the whole villany thing we’ve discussed this before.” Shinso said before releasing Todoroki.

“Alright I’ll admit my bad that was a dick move but if it helps at all it was kind of a decision I made on a whim while I watched Dabi and Hawks break in and almost kill the bastard, I kind of wish I hadn’t interrupted but what's done is done.”

Holy shit there was a lot to unpack here. “I- there's a lot there Sho you just, wow ok. Uhh let’s start with the dad thing.”

“Oh yeah and Dabi’s my brother Touya but that’s something I learned today, anyways-,” “back the fuck up, Dabi is Touya? I thought you told me Touya was dead!” Shoto walked over to the mini fridge in the corner for a snack before continuing. “Yeah turns out the old man is a liar, not all that suppressed honestly. Want some brownies? I took Sero’s recipe a few months ago.” They could unpack all of this later it was brownie time.

Walking down the stairs the pair came across Hawks and Shigaraki sitting at the bar discussing what sounded like a video game. “You guys want brownies?” Shoto yelled at them still walking towards the communal kitchen most of them shared.

At the mention of brownies both Hawks and Shigaraki’s heads shot up, “I’ll take that as a yes then, by the way this is Hitoshi.” Hitoshi raised the hand that wasn’t holding Shoto’s and waved.

“I swear to God you and Dabi are turning my league into a daycare center.” Shigaraki said annoyed at the amount of kids and kid like adults he constantly had to be around, not to say he was any different but it was still annoying.

“If it helps at all the purple one wasn’t me, I’ve been here with you all day.” Shigaraki called bullshit, “ok and who brought in the other one cause I know damn well it wasn’t Toga the little Todoroki isn’t so stupid he’d follow the mosquito. It was you and Dabi so far as I’m concerned this one is your fault too.”

“That was a backhanded compliment if I’ve ever heard one, damn, Hitoshi what do you think?”

He wasn't falling for that, “no thanks, I choose life pretty boy. And as far as I’m concerned my life has been in danger since ex number 2 over there threatened my life, so I’ll be quiet when it comes to being snarky towards the hand man who attacked 1-A multiple times.”

“Finally some fucking respect, we can keep this one.” Shigaraki’s mind was made up, he and Hitoshi as the little Todoroki called him were cool.

“Oh sweetie, we’re a package deal you pretty much already had this one.�� Shoto piped up from behind the doors that lead to the kitchen. When had they moved?

“How many of the Todorki’s are gay?!” Hawks asked himself sadly enough for him his friend decided to answer, “at least 3.” Hawks was curious, “why and how do you know that?” It was Shoto’s turn to add to the conversation, “have you seen Natsuo, that man is a flaming homosexual. Plus I wouldn’t be surprised if they fucked.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.” Shigaraki said after a beat of silence. “What is it with you Todoroki’s and villains Sho, is it the daddy issues or the mommy issues?” Hitoshi said loudly to his boyfriend. “It’s the daddy issues but the mommy issues don’t help.” Shoto deadpanned. “Next time I see your brother I’m telling him about this golden conversation.” Shigaraki said back stifling a laugh hearing two eww’s echo from the kitchen.

“It’s the daddy issues for me.”

“It’s the attachment issues for me.”

“It’s the little brother for me.”

“It’s the blood fetish for me.”

“It’s the fact you fucked a chicken man for me.”

“It’s the obsessive crush on a kid that looks like broccoli for me.”

“It’s the borderline alcoholism for me.”

“It’s the best friends with more issues than I can count for me.”

“It’s the fact you turned to villany to spite your father for me.”

“Damn girl, I concede I guess.”

“That’s what I thought.”

#mha #mha fanfic #dabi #mha hawks #tw swearing

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grrover · 4 years

Text

Title: you’re no better at swimming than you were in the beginning, but you come over at night and we practice all the breathing (Percy Jackson x Annabeth Chase)

Word Count: 7.3k

Summary: “Well, it’s hard for me to be scared of something that you live in.”

AU - Mortals, Neighbors

Author’s note: I was listening to Lorde’s “No Better” and the lyrics that I used for the title have always inspired me to create something, so I wrote this (closely based on those lyrics and loosley based on the song in general). I haven’t written fanfiction in 4 years, so I’m a little rusty. This was originally supposed to be a quick one-shot but quickly turned into something more, so I hope y’all enjoy!

[on AO3]

Annabeth was terrified of water.

Swimming pool, pond, lake, ocean – it was all the same to her. It was as if the substance was alive, waiting to consume her whole. She wasn’t entirely sure when her vendetta against water had begun. Maybe it was during those infant swimming lessons her dad had attempted with her (the supposed reflex for baby Annabeth to flip herself onto her back just never kicked in). Maybe it was just her fear of the unknown because with Annabeth she had to know, and the fact that the most concrete fact about the ocean was that 95% of it was unknown wasn’t cutting it for her. She’ll stay on land. She’ll stay dry. She’ll stick to what she knew.

And that’s exactly what she did. That’s what she did when she was asked on her first date in the eighth grade, her step-mother nearly exploding with excitement as she stormed through Annabeth’s closet picking what she should wear, asking where he was taking her. The answer was initially going to be a ride on his boat, but Annabeth insisted on going to an arcade instead. She knew the place, she won all the games, he didn’t ask her out again. She knew he wouldn’t, she knew she could be intimidating… so why not test the waters?

That’s also what she did after Piper had grabbed her by the belt loops and kissed her at the beginning of ninth grade. She allowed herself to dip her toe into the unknown – just for a couple of months – exploring what could be a relationship with one of her closest friends. It was good, she liked girls, she knew she liked girls. But she also knew that Piper was not for her, not right now. She was better off as Annabeth’s friend. She knew that. And she knew Piper knew that too.

***

That’s not what she did when Percy Jackson moved next door the month before her sophomore year. Messy haired, browned skin, green-eyed Percy. She tried to observe him from the comfort of her window nook as he aided his parents in unpacking the moving truck. He was taller than his mother, even taller than his father, and appeared to be laughing at jokes said in passing. The corner of her lip curved into a slight smile – he was nice. It was then she decided to go introduce herself when she knew the time was right; when they were done unloading boxes.

She decided to go downstairs and do something else in the meantime, rather than risking having her snooping area found out by the new neighbors. As she began to sip on a cup of water at the kitchen island, her father and half-brother’s burst through the front door, both of them bubbling with excitement.

“The new neighbors are so cool,” Matthew exclaimed, his twin brother, Bobby, nodding vigorously in agreement.

So much for waiting for the right time. Yet, Annabeth couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement as well: new neighbors, cool new neighbors, with a son that was around her age.

“Oh, really,” Annabeth rested against the island, raising her eyebrows in interest, “what’s so cool about them?”

By that point, Bobby and Matthew were nearly bouncing off the walls as they informed her of all the digestible, yet important details. Like how the son is her age, how they had just moved to San Francisco from New York City, how his name was Percy…

“And they have a massive pool in their yard. Percy said he’s going to teach us how to swim!”

Her dad just chuckled, putting a hand on both Bobby and Matthew’s shoulders as they walked closer towards the kitchen island together towards Annabeth, “Boys, you already know how to swim.”

“Annabeth doesn’t,” Bobby said as he hopped on a seat, Matthew followed suit.

Annabeth narrowed her eyes, leaning towards the two of them from the opposite end of the island, blonde curls falling over her shoulders as she stared daggers at the twins, “Well did you tell him that?”

The lack of an answer from the two was all she needed, “I so don’t need to learn how to swim! Why would you tell him that?”

“Because you so do! He’s joining your school’s swim team so he knows his stuff,” Matthew rebutted.

Fifth graders. Annabeth didn’t even have the time to murder them before her father sent her out to say hello. So, Annabeth stomped towards the house next door, her initial excitement about the new neighbors squashed by her annoyance for her little brothers. Of course, Percy’s a swimmer, of course, he’s going to her high school. The family was nowhere in sight outside, so Annabeth assumed that they had finished unloading the van – maybe timing worked in her favor after all.

She walked to the front door, lifting her fist to knock on it, but just as she did the door swung open and she was face to face with tall, messy-haired, browned skinned Percy. He had on a crisp olive green t-shirt, with black ripped jeans showing the scars and bruises scattered across his summer skin. His slightly overgrown jet black curls framed his face, a strand falling between his brows and resting right before the bridge of his nose. He was an unexpected hybrid between a skater boy and a surfer kid, belonging to both New York City yet appearing to be a California native simultaneously. Annabeth couldn’t help but notice the faded freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks, ending perfectly under his sea-green eyes. Sea-green eyes… maybe the water wasn’t so bad after all.

Percy’s eyes darted from Annabeth’s raised fist (which she quickly lowered) to her face, his initial slight alarm turning into a pleasantly surprised grin.

“You must be Annabeth,” he said, looking down at her with mischief dancing across his eyes, “the sister who can’t swim.”

The water continued to be unbearable.

***

“He looks like an idiot.”

“He looks like Annabeth’s type.”

Annabeth refused to look up from her sketchbook, definitely not because she was blushing, more because she was focused. AP 3-D Art and Design was one of the few classes where she could see both Piper and Thalia at the same time, with Piper being a freshman and Thalia being a senior. For Annabeth, it was a class taken to further her career, giving her the creative space and resources she needed to strengthen her architectural portfolio. For Thalia and Piper, well, they thought it would be easier. Yet with Piper never failing to have a ceramics piece explode in the kiln and Thalia’s hatred for the texture of slip, the two of them resorted to scrolling through Percy’s Instagram page.

The Jackson family had progressively started to spend more time with the Chases and, as a result, Percy and Annabeth had begun to spend more time together as well. It startled Annabeth to her core that she had begun to trust Percy so much in such a short period of time.

“I have mommy issues,” she said to him one summer day, partially a joke, partially a bitter nod to her biological mother who had abandoned her and her father. She didn’t remember the conversation that prompted her to say this, and she wasn’t entirely sure what she expected to get out of Percy with that line. The two of them were merely lying on the loungers in Annabeth’s backyard: Annabeth with sunglasses on, staring up at the sky trying to soak up in the last few moments of summer freedom, Percy glistening with beads of water across his body because he had just lifted himself out of his pool before sprinting to Annabeth’s side to shake himself off on her. She was annoyed, yes, but the youthful laughter that spilled out from Percy’s lips upon seeing her frustration melted away all feelings of indignation.

So with all things considered, Annabeth expected an awkward laugh at least, maybe an equivalent joke about Percy’s own parental issues at best. Family problems had been one of their first bonding points, after all. But instead, Percy rolled onto his side to face Annabeth and asked in a charming yet cautious voice for Annabeth to take off her sunglasses.

After gazing into her eyes, after seeing what was truly behind that statement, he simply asked “Do you want to talk about her?”

And that’s all Annabeth needed that afternoon.

What she didn’t need was Thalia and Piper scrolling through Percy’s Instagram page when they should be doing their work.

“Please don’t like anything on accident,” Annabeth begged as she leaned over to look at the picture Piper had pulled up. It was Percy submerged in the blue of the ocean, fish swarming around his body as he flashed a peace sign at the camera. He was wearing a wetsuit and scuba diving gear, his fin-wearing feet floating beneath him, brushing the coral and sand that lay at the bottom, as his upper body turned towards the camera. And despite the regulator that covered his mouth Annabeth could tell he was wearing a shit-eating grin based off of the gleam of excitement and mischief present in his eyes. Percy fucking Jackson.

“He’s definitely an idiot, Thalia, and he’s definitely not my type, Piper,” Annabeth replied before assuming the position she had before, going back to her sketch.

“Oh, no, I think he’s your type,” Thalia corrected as she plucked Piper’s phone from her hands and continued to scroll down the page, “But I also think he’s an idiot. You guys would even each other out in every sense.”

She put extra emphasis on the last two words right as she turned the phone towards Annabeth, showing a similar scuba diving picture as before – God, is that all this boy could do? – that was captioned “I basically live in the water.”

Annabeth hated the water almost as much as she hated how perfect Percy’s loose curls looked floating in it.

***

The end of Annabeth and Percy’s sophomore year was bookmarked by a Jackson-Chase “End-of-Year” and “Thalia’s-Actually-Graduating” hybrid celebration. The two families opened up their fences so all invited parties could easily go in and out between the two yards, with a barbeque in the Chase backyard and the pool in the Jackson backyard being a center of wet, splashing, chaos. Annabeth’s father was at the grill rotating hot dogs and burgers, using Annabeth’s Yankees baseball cap to keep his hair out of his face in the midst of the newfound barely-even-summer-yet heat. In the distance, Annabeth could hear Bobby and Matthew hitting the surface of the Jacksons’ above ground pool, screeching and giggling as they blasted Percy with the water soakers he had gifted them earlier in the day.

“In honor of your fifth-grade graduation and the fact that I am no longer thirteen years old,” he had said in an obnoxiously declarative tone, emerging from his backdoor, a water soaker in each hand. He had the same shit-eating grin he had on in all his scuba diving photos – not that Annabeth had studied them periodically ever since that one conversation with Thalia and Piper, she would never – and his hair was beginning to become overgrown once again.

Her brother’s beaming faces almost put Percy’s own smile to shame as they each took one as Percy finished his statement with, “Plus, I have a spare one that I can use to attack Annabeth with.”

He turned towards her and winked as her brothers voiced their gratitude and dashed to Annabeth’s kitchen to fill up their new weapons with the fatal substance.

“You need a haircut,” Annabeth said as she reached up on her tiptoes to brush Percy’s loose curls out of his face with her fingers.

“I like having my hair like this in the summer,” Percy replied, taking Annabeth’s wrist in his hand and lowering it away from his forehead, “You think it makes me look more like a Californian?”

Annabeth blamed the burning of her cheeks on the sun – God, why was it so hot today? – and nodded slowly, “Oh, yeah, I noticed the overgrown hair look in the summer. Does it make scuba diving any less terrifying, or are you just part fish? Would explain the small brain.”

She didn’t realize what her words had insinuated until Percy raised his eyebrows at her, the shit-eating grin finding its way back onto his newly freckled face. He hadn’t posted scuba diving pictures since before he moved to San Francisco at the end of last summer, and they were very much buried in his feed. The sun suddenly got a lot hotter.

So now, in the midst of this Jackson-Chase hybrid celebration, Annabeth hoped that her brothers would blast Percy with their water guns so hard that he lost all memory of that conversation. Maybe she was overreacting, maybe just a little bit, but she couldn’t have Percy Jackson thinking that she liked him or anything… unless he liked her.

Annabeth aggressively bit into her vaguely burnt hot dog. Fuck, she thought, examining the scene that played out in front of her. The sun had begun to set, leaving a hazy pink mark on the horizon as a crisp warm air flooded the backyards. Piper was sitting on the table in Annabeth’s backyard (no matter how many times Annabeth’s step-mother told Piper to not do so, she never listened), facing Thalia’s little brother, Jason, who was sitting on the chair in front of her. They seemed to be caught up in an interesting conversation, based upon the sly smile and glimmer in Piper’s eyes and Jason’s animated gestures. Her father had finished grilling and was now caught up in a conversation with Thalia’s parents and Paul, Percy’s step-father.

“I had no doubt in my mind Thalia was going to graduate, I swear!” Annabeth’s father exclaimed,

She smiled softly to herself. How bittersweet; Thalia, her mentor, her best friend, was leaving her, and it was beginning to seem like the end of an era, but maybe it was only the beginning of something else. She could still hear the shrieks and splashes coming from the Jackson side of the party, the sounds of wet feet dashing across their’ evergreen grass. Annabeth could even hear Thalia joining in on whatever rambunctious game Percy and her brothers had invented with their water soakers, screaming at Percy about how idiotic he was before more splashing took place.

Maybe this was the beginning of Annabeth’s new era, one that had Percy Jackson in it. One that was filled with more talks like the one she had about her mother and the dozens more that followed, where she could just talk and Percy just listened, staring up at her with sea-green eyes that somehow managed to whisper all the right words in her ear. One that would allow her to continue fostering the undeniable bond that she and Percy had formed in the handful of months since he moved in next door, the bond that allowed him to let tears stream down his face as Annabeth watched and stroked his arm. She didn’t always entirely know what to say to him, and that killed her, but Percy told her that that was okay, that her just being there helped. She knew how to just be there, and she knew she wouldn’t forget how to anytime soon, either.

Maybe she did like Percy Jackson.

Maybe she could go inside the pool.

She already had on a purple swimsuit under her athletic shorts, all she need to do was go over there and dive in. Piper and Jason had already fled to the pool party side and all the adults had migrated to the Chase backyard. Annabeth jumped up and brushed her hands off on her shorts, she was going to do it. She marched towards the Jacksons’ yard and through the fence, and before her eyes could even register what was occurring she was met with three water soakers blasting her chest, stomach, and face.

“Oh my god, wait!” she screamed, putting her hands up in a pathetic attempt to stop the assault. But her screams soon dissolved into unmistakable laughter as she darted across the yard. Percy and her brothers chased after her, unforgiving with the pressure of their soakers. Piper, Jason, and Thalia picked sides from their spots inside the pool, shouting different tactics at the four players in the relentless game of chase.

“The pool is the safe spot!” Jason shouted at Annabeth, “Get in!”

He didn’t know about Annabeth’s irrational fear, fair enough. But maybe this was her cue, after all, the pool wasn’t deep, it’s not like she could drown, and if all else fails Thalia was in there to save her. Those were facts. She knew she would be fine in this pool, Percy Jackson’s above ground pool. With that, Annabeth managed to outrun Percy and her brothers and dart up the ladder of the pool before launching herself into the water.

And Annabeth wasn’t going to lie, the water was freezing and, for a split second, she was terrified. Then she felt Thalia’s warm hand on her shoulder from above the water, the laughter of all her friends, the laughter of Percy, distorted from underneath the surface. Annabeth was fine, she knew that. She broke the surface, greeting her stunned brothers and an entertained Percy Jackson with a stuck-out tongue and middle finger. Pool water, especially Percy Jackson’s above ground pool water, wasn’t that unbearable after all.

Within the next couple of hours, Annabeth’s step-mother came to put her brothers to bed, Annabeth’s father had cleaned up from the barbeque in their backyard, the Graces had gone home, and Piper’s father sent a driver to pick her up.

“Famous father things,” Piper sighed before giving Annabeth a warm hug and jogging to the car, towel around her neck.

Soon, it was just Annabeth and Percy in her kitchen, soaking wet with towels around the necks. Percy’s curls were weighed down by the water, sticking to his forehead. Annabeth’s blonde curls were in a similar fashion, except slicked down to the back of her head, neck, and down her back. They were both cupping mugs of tea as they sat at the kitchen island, shivering due to the cool wind that came with the near-summer nights (it probably didn’t help that Annabeth left the back sliding door wide open). She knew her step-mother would be furious that she and Percy had tracked in water from the pool, but at that moment Annabeth didn’t care. She didn’t even think about it. All she could think about was how she and Percy had stayed in the pool by themselves, hours after everybody had left, and now it was midnight and Percy Jackson was in her kitchen drinking tea with water droplets glistening all over his arms and chest with his freckles coming in across his nose and on his cheeks and his sea-green eyes looking down at her.

Annabeth knew that she was staring up at Percy as if he was the sun itself, and in a way he was. It was midnight and Percy Jackson was the sun itself. Percy Jackson’s pool water wasn’t that unbearable. The most nervewracking and electrifying part about the entire interaction was that Percy was staring right back at her, sipping his tea carefully as he tried to crack the code that was Annabeth Chase, but Annabeth hadn’t even begun to crack it herself yet.

Percy was the first one to break it – whatever it was – and put his mug down on the island with a soft clank.

“So...,” he started, and Annabeth couldn’t help but notice the bead of water that ran along the curvature of his cheek, “those swimming lessons your brother’s signed you up for last summer…?”

He looked back down at her, his usual easy and playful demeanor was replaced with a mysterious and calculating gaze and Annabeth didn’t know. She didn’t know why he looked at her like that and why she looked at him like that. She didn’t know how to handle all that was Percy – he was unknown to her in every sense. He had just moved in not even a year ago and yet she had confided in him about everything and he did the same. He knew her just as well as Piper and Thalia did, and they had known Annabeth for years, what was the logic behind that? That’s what was terrifying, there was no logic to what she felt for Percy Jackson. Every nerve in her body was telling her to go to bed, tell Percy goodnight and end whatever was going on right now because she did not know where this was going. She wanted to go back onto the dry land, forget the ocean.

She looked up at Percy and pressed her lips together in a small smile, “I believe I’ll be taking them… Mr. Jackson, is it?”

The playful and shit-eating grin crashed right back into Percy’s face and Annabeth couldn’t help but notice how close they were. How she suddenly noticed the water droplets decorating his lashes and the slight pink flush that was beginning to flood the area where Percy’s freckles were sprinkled across his nose and cheeks and underneath his eyes. She also noticed how easy it would be to lean in, to grab him by the back of his sunkissed neck decorated in water droplets that the midnight light hit just right and kiss him. And she knew Percy had the same idea as well.

And then the upstairs light flickered on and Percy jumped out of his seat.

“So, swimming lessons,” he sputtered out.

“Tomorrow?” Annabeth asked.

He grabbed his towel and attempted to return to his playful and nonchalant stance as his eyes flickered nervously up towards the staircase, and Annabeth couldn’t help but wonder which family member she had to strangle once she got upstairs, “Tomorrow.”

So that summer they had swimming lessons. Annabeth learned how to back float and Percy even began to show her proper form, detailing what do do if she ever found herself drowning. Honestly? Annabeth couldn’t care less about the different types of strokes and what makes a bad or good form. She did care about how Percy held her up in the water as he guided her arms and legs, informing her on all things swimming with his mouth close to her ear. And Annabeth could feel her ratio between knowing and unknowing grow larger, but one thing she did know for sure was that Percy Jackson’s above ground pool water wasn’t unbearable.

***

The next summer Percy Jackson’s above ground pool was replaced with an inground pool that had no shallow end, and it was as if Annabeth could see the number that represented the things she knew now and the number that represented the things she didn’t know now grow further apart in distance right before her eyes. She tried to describe her frustration to Piper and Thalia who, upon Thalia coming back from college for the summer, were at the Chase residence almost all the time now.

“It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be,” Piper said, sitting in the very nook that Annabeth sat in the day she watched the Jacksons move in next door. Piper looked out the window at the Jackson residence, “Plus you have an attractive swim team coming, like, twice a week now if that’s any consolation.”

Thalia made a face from her position on Annabeth’s bed, probably because she knew that Piper had a thing with her little brother at the moment. She had been concentrating on painting her nails a sickening shade of duo chromatic black and electrifying blue but flicked her eyes upwards to glance at Piper.

“For Annabeth! Not for me.”

Annabeth was being overreactive and selfish, this she knew, which is why she didn’t voice her feelings to Percy. His mom had gotten the inground pool installed in celebration for Percy being named captain of the swim team at the end of their junior year. It was also just convenient now considering that since he was the new captain, he would be able to host the team at his house. Annabeth remembered the youthful excitement that his voice carried as he told her. They were lying on Annabeth’s bed in opposite directions with their heads positioned next to one another’s. Percy had reached up to rest his hand on Annabeth’s curls as they both stared up at the ceiling and reflected on their now completed junior year. And she really was happy for him, ecstatic even. When she heard the pride that dripped from Percy’s voice as he talked about the swim team, his swim team… How could she not be? She didn’t even need to look at his face to know how genuinely happy he was, and between that and his fingers tangled in her hair, all resentment towards the inground pool had dissipated for a small moment.

All the resentment stormed back when she saw that Rachel Dare was on the swim team. She was all curly red hair, freckles, and high cut blue swimsuits. Annabeth was attracted to her yet utterly envious of her without an ounce of logic to back up her reasoning – Rachel had a girlfriend – and it was driving her insane. Add five to the “things she didn’t know” side of the ratio: why does Rachel Dare drive her crazy if she posed no threat? Why did she even feel that there were “threats” to her relationship with Percy? If she and Percy almost kissed last summer then why didn’t she bring it up? Why didn’t he bring it up? Why does she not remember anything from their swimming lessons?

“Well that won’t help,” Thalia said knowingly, examining her nails, “the only swimmer Annabeth pays attention to has lived next door the whole time.”

Annabeth felt her face begin to warm up at that statement, and it only got hotter when Piper turned from the window to smirk at Annabeth, who was seated on the carpet, “Yeah, ever since Percy developed an Apollo’s belt and a bit of abs–.”

“Okay! God!” Annabeth glared at her two friends.

She did owe them, though; that’s the answer to number five. Plus one for “things she knew”, minus one for “things she didn’t know”. There was a direct relationship between the amount of time Percy and Annabeth lived next to each other and how serious he had become about swimming, and, boy, were the results evident. Even outside of his physical appearance, Percy finished his junior year with colleges scouting him to swim on their teams.

Annabeth remembered the amount of disbelief Percy was in, growing teary-eyed after he hung up from his phone call with UC San Diego. He came crashing into her house, insisting that he needed to be with her when he picked up the phone, claiming that he needed her to be there to comfort him after he fucked it all up. He lay stomach-down on her bed and Annabeth stood in front of him, hands on his shoulders, rubbing circles into his back with her thumbs – he was so fucking tense – as she gazed down at him. He softly put down the phone to his side before pulling Annabeth in by the waist to hug her. Full body sobs shook through him as he cried into her shirt, burying his face deeper and deeper into Annabeth’s stomach, shaking his head. He didn’t need to say anything, Annabeth knew.

“They want me.” His voice was barely a whisper, and if Annabeth wasn’t constantly hyper-focused on Percy’s every move she would have missed it. “They really want me.”

“I know,” Annabeth put her head towards her ceiling, smiling. “I am so proud of you, Seaweed Brain.”

He had begun scuba diving again, and the nickname arose after he returned from one of his day trips. He had sent her a brand new photograph, same shit-eating grin hidden behind all the gear, fins flapping in the water, and two big thumbs up as he posed with a cluster of seaweed. So you don’t have to stalk my Instagram anymore, he had said to her. Annabeth couldn’t get enough.

“Visit me,” he had whispered.

She would have walked off the nonexistent end of the world if he had asked her to. Plus one to “things she didn’t know”: why did he have this power over her? Maybe Piper and Thalia would know the answer to this one, as well. So Annabeth told them about UC San Diego, she told them about the swimming “lessons”, she told them about the red hair, freckles, and high cut blue swimsuits.

And they looked at her like she was stupid.

“Maybe we should all be shocked when Annabeth graduates,” Thalia snorted, finally closing the bottle of nail polish and rolling it around in her hands. “All smarts and logic but can’t see what’s right in front of her.”

Annabeth blinked, unsure what to make of Thalia’s statement. She had equipped her logic – at least she tried to – to no avail. It couldn’t be the length of time she knew Percy that made her feel this way because when she wanted so badly to feel this way about Piper freshman year it didn’t work, and she had known Piper for longer. It couldn’t be due to Percy telling her everything about himself and the way to care about him, because she just knew those things, she picked up on all the little details. He never needed to tell her. Annabeth ran her fingers along the carpet and tried to continue racking her brain but nothing made sense, nothing made sense except for–.

Oh.

“You love him, and he loves you,” Piper said, turning her attention away from Annabeth to look out at the Jackson residence yet again. “Geez. I thought you knew but were just scared. Or playing dumb.”

Fucking hell. She had been doing a little bit of both; plus one to “things she knew”.

Piper and Thalia had left her house that night with a vague threat along the lines of Annabeth having to do something about the Percy situation before they did. She had texted them both later, asking for them to give her a couple of days. She needed time to process, to think, to evaluate all the points where she had known about what she felt for Percy without actually knowing; not in the way she needed to have known anyways. Both their responses could be summarized with the words don’t overthink it.

So, of course, Annabeth took that with a grain of salt and dove straight into overthinking. She tried to find the exact moment she started to love him (Was it when they talked about her biological mother? Drinking tea at midnight, cold and soaking wet? Or was it when he drove her around in Paul’s car, promising that he wouldn’t crash it as long as she was inside?). She also tried to find the reason for why she didn’t consider love the answer for so long (Does love defy logic? Was she scared of it?). She tried to find the reasoning behind why Percy hadn’t made the first move if Piper was right; if he did love her (Well why didn’t Annabeth? If she loved him?). She was going in circles. The bridge between the low number of “things she knew” and the ever-increasing number of “things she did not know” grew so undeniably large that no architectural design that Annabeth could ever sketch would resolve it.

Days after Piper and Thalia’s big reveal, Annabeth returned to the window nook where she first saw the Jacksons move in. She hoped that it would help her arrive at all the answers, turning all her “things she did not know” into “things she knew” because she could not take anymore unknowns. She hated unknowns. All Percy Jackson brought with him from the day she first laid eyes on him were unknowns, yet she loved him. Plus one. Annabeth had a mug of tea cupped in her hands as she stared out the window, sipping is gingerly. Before Percy, this had been Annabeth’s space, this was the space where she came to all major realizations at. It comforted her then and she believed that it would now.

So when she saw Rachel Dare pull up to Percy’s driveway in her white Mercedes with her deadly red-haired-freckled-high-cut-blue-swimsuit-under-denim-shorts combo, Annabeth thought that was her spot giving her a huge middle finger. Annabeth was projecting her own issues onto Rachel, she knew that, so why was envy still burning in her chest? She watched as Percy walked out to greet Rachel, giving her a hug from the side, before the two raced to his backyard. Probably to cannonball into Percy’s eleven-feet deep pool. Percy and Rachel knew where they stood, they had the ability to dive right in because there was no need to hesitate.

So why was Annabeth hesitating with Percy?

She loved him. People had been trying to figure out what the fuck love was since the beginning of time, through science, poetry, prose, and paintings. It was confusing, it was messy, it was unknown. Annabeth knew this. She loved Percy Jackson. Her “things she knew” and “things she did not know” were never going to be concrete as long as she loved, as long as other people kept loving. It was going to fluctuate, it was neither here nor there. She loved Percy Jackson. She knew this. That’s all that she needed. Sure, she did not know all the answers to everything involving love until love was figured out – until someone finally knows all there is to know about love. But that wasn’t her job. Not right now. Right now, she only had one job.

Meet me at your pool at midnight, she texted Percy. Percy Jackson’s eleven-feet deep inground pool was bearable. It was more than bearable, it was what she needed. She just hoped she remembered those above ground pool swimming lessons.

***

Annabeth and Percy’s friendship had helped her get better at sneaking out at night. Not that they were doing anything forbidden, at least most of the time. The two of them just appreciated each other’s company best when there were no distractions; when the world stood at a weird limbo where it felt like it only belonged to those who were awake at that moment. Annabeth only wanted to share those moments with Percy, and he admitted that he felt the same. So, those moments became their time.

Annabeth climbed over the Jacksons’ wooden fence like she had done so many times before. She was aware that Percy probably – definitely – left the gate unlocked since he was expecting her, but Annabeth needed the extra adrenaline rush for what she was about to do. She walked to the edge of the pool, the eleven-feet deep pool. The water glistened under the moon, and Annabeth knew that despite the hot summer air the pool would be freezing. She took off her athletic shorts to reveal her purple swimsuit. She dove right in, headfirst.

So much for a leap of faith. Annabeth purposefully showed up only 5 minutes before midnight, wanting to surprise Percy with her skills (best case scenario), or have him be impressed with her for trying prior to coming to her rescue before the water gulped her down (this case scenario). She couldn’t remember anything about a freestyle, butterfly, breaststroke, or backstroke. All she could remember was Percy’s hands running across her arms and legs as he held her up, whispering the technicalities in her ear as he checked her form. Maybe she fucked up, maybe this was a mistake and now she was being consumed for nothing.

In her frenzy, she managed to remember one of the things Percy had told her with his lips pressed up against her ear (why did he ever think that was the best way to instruct her on anything?). He had told her that if she ever found herself drowning, simply flip onto her back (she flipped), allow her head to float to the surface (she floated), and trust and follow the current (if the water going in and out of the pool filter counted as a current then she did that, too). Well, at least she wasn’t dying. This she knew.

As if on cue, Percy slipped out quietly from his back door.

“Annabeth?” he asked frantically before lowering himself into the pool by her side.

“I’m floating,” she replied.

Upon realizing that she was okay, he began to laugh at the predicament he had found her in. Looking back, Annabeth could see how comical that might be. He helped her up onto the poolside, trying to keep himself from exploding into a juvenile fit of laughter right in her face as he began to question her.

“How’d you end up in there?” Percy’s sea-green eyes were crinkled in amusement. “I mean, if you wanted late-night swimming lessons you could’ve just asked.”

He turned to look at her, realizing that she had been incredibly quiet. Annabeth was observing him, trying to read his face. Was Percy Jackson in love with her? She realized that she was worrying him as she saw the playful glisten disappear from his eyes, quickly being replaced by the foggy mystery that was present that night at the kitchen island when water droplets had danced across his eyelashes. There were water droplets dancing across his eyelashes now.

Annabeth broke the silence; “Percy, what are our swimming lessons to you? Were they always just swimming lessons?”

Percy furrowed his brows, but before he had the chance to just respond with another question Annabeth continued.

“Because they weren’t to me. I love you, Percy. I’m not sure when that happened but it doesn’t matter, because I love you now. I jumped into a fucking pool to show it, for God’s sake.” Annabeth laughed to herself, kicking at the water. She looked back up at Percy, but now he was staring down into the pool as if he were searching for something at the very bottom.

“I realized that I know a lot of things,” Annabeth continued, refusing to avert her gaze from Percy’s profile. Water droplets glistened on his brow under the midnight moon. “I also don’t know a lot of things. I love you and you’re just a bunch of knowns and unknowns to me all at once and I love you for it. And you don’t have to say it back, not now, not ever, because you just being here is enough. Thank you.”

Percy let out a breathless laugh and shook his head, looking up at the moon. The soft white light outlined his glistening figure. “Well, I’m going to say it back because I do. I love you.”

Annabeth took a deep breath in, relieved that he said it back because she knew that yet didn’t know it at the same time. Getting used to the unknowns was going to take some time, but if Percy was going to be there by her side during that time it was all worth it.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked, but Percy was already leaning in.

He pulled her towards him with his hand on the small of her back, gentle, and leaned down to capture her lips. Annabeth cupped his chin and arched herself into him. His lips were wet, cold, soft. She could feel the water droplets between their lips, their noses, their cheeks, their arms, their legs. When they pulled away, Percy looked down at her through half-lidded eyes, his lips reddened and slightly agape. His dampened overgrown curls framed his face and stuck between his brows and his freckles danced across his nose, cheeks, and underneath his eyes. Percy lowered himself into the pool.

“I want to teach you one more lesson, tonight,” he barely made a sound when he said it but, once again, Annabeth was hyper-focused on everything that was Percy Jackson. He took Annabeth’s wrists and placed her arms over his shoulders before taking hold of her from underneath her legs and lowered her into the pool with him. He grasped Annabeth’s chin with his index finger and thumb and lowered her lips down to his again. Annabeth ran her fingers through his wet curls before cupping the back of his head, pressing herself closer to him.

When the two parted, Annabeth couldn’t help but ask: “What was I supposed to learn from that?”

“The breathing.”

***

The summer after Percy and Annabeth’s senior year, before they embarked on their respective college journeys, Annabeth made Percy promise to take her scuba diving. The two decided to go after Percy’s birthday, now that they were both 18, so they could take themselves to the beach house Percy’s mom had gotten by the coast.

Prior to the trip, Annabeth had purchased an embarrassingly large amount of new swimsuits. Most of them were blue, Percy’s favorite color, some of them were purple and some of them were grey. Percy had also taken her to buy diving gear before they went to dinner, a perfect hybrid date. They held hands the whole time, Percy rubbing circles into her hand with his thumb. Their swimming lessons continued, and Annabeth was finally beginning to get better. It wasn’t like the other times where the two of them had said that she was getting better while they both knew that nothing had changed. It was real this time because Percy actually began to seriously teach this time (“No more whispering,” Annabeth had told him). Some lessons were just to practice all the breathing, but that was to be expected.

“You know you don’t have to go scuba diving if you don’t want to,” Percy said repeatedly, from when they were paying for the gear to as they sat across from each other in the restaurant. “I know you haven’t always loved the ocean…”

Annabeth beamed up at her boyfriend – her surreal boyfriend, Percy Jackson – and said, “Well, it’s hard for me to be scared of something that you live in.”

Not anymore, at least. The ocean had a lot of unknowns, yes, but Annabeth was slowly starting to unlearn the idea that it was her job to know everything. It wasn’t possible. Sometimes she just wanted to go scuba diving with her boyfriend without having to think too hard about it, even if he was a competitive swimmer and Annabeth hadn’t learned until last summer. Percy’s shit-eating grin made an appearance.

“I’ll watch all the Harry Potters with you.”

“Oh, you better.”

So, the weekend after Percy’s birthday the two of them set off for the coast in Paul’s white minivan (with the Jackson-Chase blessing, of course). Percy’s loose curls were overgrown, the wind rushing in from the rolled down windows blew it all across his face making Annabeth question his ability to drive with such an obstacle. His summertime freckles had fully settled in, and the two of them sang along to the radio until their throats were raw. Percy took Annabeth’s hand in his as he drove and planted kisses to it periodically.

He was going to UC San Diego to be a student-athlete and Annabeth was going to UC Berkeley, her dream school. The two schools were eight hours apart, but they would make it work. She knew that. She didn’t know all the details yet, but that was okay. She loved Percy Jackson and the unknown wasn’t as intimidating as it was before his wave crashed into her life at full force. She didn’t have to know everything. Not right now, while he was right here, kissing her hand as they drove to the coast.

#peercy #softpercy #percabeth #pjo #i don't know what the fuck this is this is just something sweet for the fucking kids okay #tumblr got rid of all my italicized text and probably fucked up some more formatting so if you want the Full Effect just go on ao3 lmaoo #mine #my writing #this ended up being so so long for no reason #i was gonna finish it later today but i couldn't sleep so i stayed up finishing it #also writing straight people as a lesbian is so weird like the disconnect.... was a hurdle tbfh

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aqpippin · 4 years

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For things you said: 16 and more jankie pls 😊

16 - things you said with no space between us

I really am living vicariously through these prompts tbh 🥺 I’m soft and am a huge jankie + crygi simp 🤧🥰✨

Daisy Goode-Methyd’s first day away from her moms occurred when she was only eight weeks old, with Gigi and Crystal finally succumbing to Jan pressuring them into their first baby-free day since Daisy’s arrival.

Jackie’s eyes had bulged out of her head when she saw how much ‘essential’ baby equipment was brought into her and Jan’s apartment that morning.

‘We’re only having her for a few hours, right?’ Jackie had asked, watching as Gigi assembled a portable bassinet in the living room, ‘it’s not like we’re keeping her.’ Jan slapped her arm playfully, shushing her with a low giggle. Judging by the number of bottles Crystal was packing into the fridge, anyone would have thought that the Cox family had a new addition.

Jan had all but pushed the new moms out the door, assuring them that they’d be fine and that she would call if she needed anything. Jackie looked down at Daisy, who stared back up at her from the bassinet with wide, brown eyes. Jan was smitten, scooping the tiny brunette up in her arms and breathing in the fresh baby scent. She was in absolute heaven.

***

Jackie and Jan had gone into the day expecting very different things. Jan had always loved children - she had always been maternal, and she often stated that she was simply ‘born to be a mom’. She would be a platinum blonde PTA wet dream - homemade baked goods and all. Jackie, however, had her reservations. Babies were loud, messy, and terrifying. She had barely held Daisy before, let alone looked after her. Jackie knew that motherhood was something that she would tackle one day, after she had achieved everything on her to-do list (and decided that she was finished unpacking her issues regarding her own mother with her therapist). It was simply something Jackie couldn’t envision happening for at least a few more years.

Nonetheless, both Jackie and Jan experienced things they did not expect during their day with their favourite (and only) godchild.

Jackie did not expect to actually find taking care of a baby fun, her motherhood-driven anxiety seemingly disappearing for the majority of the day. If you had asked Jackie at 9am where her expectations for the day sat - she would have told you that the bar was on the floor. Hence her pleasant surprise when she found herself enjoying Daisy’s company. However, she did not have the ability to swallow her pride and admit her contentment to Jan, sneering the occasional ‘shut up’ when Jan caught her smiling or making funny faces at the small child. Daisy didn’t whine the way Jan did when Jackie started watching another episode of Star Trek, and she listened contently to Jackie’s existential dread. She also happened to have a bottle in her mouth on both occasions, but that was something Jackie chose to overlook.

***

Jan did not expect the 6pm meltdown. Daisy was inconsolable - screaming, fat tears rolling down her red cheeks. Crystal joked about how much of a bitch witching hour was, but Jan always thought she was just being funny. There was a part of the blonde that regretted telling Gigi and Crystal that they would be fine for a few more hours, that they had everything under control. But a bigger part of Jan knew that Gigi and Crystal not only needed this break, they deserved it - and as a result, Jan knew that she and Jackie would just have to work together and sort this out themselves. Daisy was fed, bathed and changed - and yet the girl was screaming as if her aunts had neglected her and her mommies were never coming back.

“What does Google say?” Jan asked, rocking Daisy in her arms and trying to coax her into taking a pacifier with no avail. Jackie felt like she had scrolled through every mommy blog that existed, and she was yet to find some new information, “Jacks, maybe we should just call them.”

“No way,” Jackie refused, she was a woman on a mission, and she sighed with relief when she finally found a somewhat reputable help website, “got something. This one says she’s overtired and overstimulated. Also just try holding her against your chest.” Jan nodded to no-one in particular, cradling Daisy closer to her as Jackie turned off all the lights and the television, only the soft pinks and golds of sunset bleeding through the closed blinds. The tiny child in Jan’s arms still refused to settle, Jan humming softly as she stared blankly at Jackie for help.

“Turn that ugly little white noise thing machine on, I have a plan.” Jackie instructed, pointing to the white, cloud-shaped device sitting on their coffee table.

“Hearing you say that isn’t as comforting as you think it is.” Jan whispered harshly, flicking the switches on and listening as the sound of the traffic on the streets below them was slowly drowned out by the sound of artificial rainfall.

“You’re gonna think this is stupid, and I swear to God if you so much as laugh.” Jackie mused, walking back into the living room in just a sports bra and sleep shorts. She repositioned the soft blue muslin wrap in Daisy’s bassinet, motioning for Jan to bring her over so Jackie could swaddle her. Jan abided wordlessly, watching in silence as Jackie successfully wrapped and pacified the tiny brunette before laying on the couch with Daisy’s head on her chest. The screaming had finally subsided, and if Jan couldn’t hear the white noise machine she would have sworn she’d gone deaf. She stood in awe, looking down at her wife who was softly stroking Daisy’s back with one hand and texting with the other.

“Come snuggle before she gets too settled.” Jackie sighed, making just enough room between herself and the back of the couch for Jan to cuddle into her side. Jan didn’t need to be asked twice. It was a tight squeeze, but it was so sickeningly domestic Jan didn’t care. Even Jackie found peace in the overwhelming cosiness, long limbs entangled and soft baby breaths making her heart beat just that little bit quicker.

“She’s so gorgeous. Like a little ray of sunshine. And after all that, she just wanted her auntie Jackie,” Jan cooed, nestling her head into the space between Jackie’s neck and shoulder. The angle was just enough for Jan to be able to see the slight smile resting upon Jackie’s face, “how’d you even think of doing this anyway?”

“I remember Crystal talking about it once,” Jackie turned her head so she could look down at her wife before pressing a few soft kisses to Jan’s forehead, “apparently your heartbeat is nature’s white noise, and body heat does wonders with babies.” The look of awe on Jan’s face only intensified, and she could feel a swarm of butterflies flapping in her tummy. Ever insightful, Jackie was quick to notice Jan’s gaze.

“What’s that look for? What’s going on in that pretty blonde head of yours?”

“I can’t wait to do this for real with you,” Jan sniffled, wiping a few happy tears from her cheeks, “I know you don’t think it’s true, but you’ll be a good mom.” Jackie basked in the glow of Jan’s praise, holding Jan’s hand and squeezing in silent thanks.

“Let’s have one.” It was said so simply - no fuss, no dramatic and sudden realisation. It just felt right.

“Really?” Jan was practically beaming, the words she had been patiently waiting to hear finally being thrown into the universe, “you’re really ready?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be 100% ready,” Jackie mused, pausing to coo softly at Daisy as she began to stir, “but I want this. I want our own little piece of heaven. And I know as long as I have you, I can do anything.”

“You’re such a softie.” Jan giggled, snuggling further into Jackie’s side. She let her mind run wild, let herself imagine being in the exact same position in a year’s time. She found comfort in the heat radiating off Jackie’s exposed skin, and drifted off to the sound of Jackie’s heartbeat thrumming softly in her ear.

Jackie laid on the couch in silence, her own imagination running wild at the thought of what the next year would bring. She smiled lazily, eventually shushing Gigi and Crystal as they let themselves into the apartment.

“Ain’t this a sight for sore eyes?” Crystal giggled, taking photos as Jackie rolled her eyes.

“Was she a Goode girl?” Gigi asked, scooping her daughter up and cradling her in her arms.

“The best,” Jan chimed in groggily, rubbing her eyes but not moving from her spot on the couch, “a little slice of heaven.”

#asks #junosjukebox #things you said prompts #pippin writes #jankie #i said tooth rotting and self indulgent... so here we are #its a long setup but fuck i think its worth it #also mom!crygi ?!#a concept #im working on a mom!jankie drabble atm and when i got this prompt i was so excited bc i knew i could slot two ideas together #this just feels ✨right✨#hlwily verse

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bekahdoesnerdshit · 4 years

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ask Two for the angst ones this time: 13 for raini, 5 (possibly will be pertinent come the end of this minicampaign) & 29 (she literally has Any Weapon w/ her pact so it's fititng) for ayen, 7 & 10 (hehe I know there's trauma in this one) for cog, and then mix and match 4, 17, 18 between Caspian, Ryker, and Brilliance bc I don't know them as well and I would Like To

My life is just below readmores now, I guess. Will I ever learn to shut the fuck up? No! And that is a promise

Raini

13. What does it take to make your character cry? Oh boy. Raini definitely isn’t a big crier, because she a) doesn’t really let herself get to that point and b) hard pivots into “angry” over “upset” and she isn’t an angry crier. She’s cried twice in game so far, and probably not many times before that. In both in game cases -and likely the always alluded to but never seen “before times”- the catalyst for her crying was being overwhelmed. In a good way, bad way, whatever, but that’s the trigger. Just- Looking at something, not knowing what else to do but let yourself cry about it, and not seeing any reason to stop yourself. (shfjsdjkfh the funny answer is: during sex. But can you IMAGINE jskdfskjdf)

Ayen

5. Would they ever turn on someone they just met in order to save themselves? Oh for sure. Without question. Not without guilt, in fairness, but without question. She’s pretty well adjusted, pretty “go with the flow”, but she did grow up in a pretty cutthroat world. She was spared from having to make those kinds of brutal decisions from a super young age by Shadow Mom, but she definitely saw the fallout of those choices and learned that, while it’s all well and good to do the “right” thing, it’s much more important to do the right thing for you. If that means condemning some stranger to die so you and yours don’t have to? So be it. Better people have done worse, because that’s sometimes just how things go. I’ll be honest! This character decision was a completely on the fly one when we were having that debate in the library about what we should do with the information we learned in the library. But I stand by it. In character, Ayen 1000% sees whatever’s going on as Not Her Business. It’s fucked up, sure! But, you know. Not her monkeys, not her circus. 29. What is their weapon of choice, and what weapon do they dislike using the most? Bro I love that Ayen doesn’t have A Specific Weapon SO much. Especially because Pact of the Blade specifically makes it so that, whatever weapon she summons, she’s proficient in while wielding it. So she sees somebody using a weapon, goes “oh! cool!” and summons it herself, and then just. Intuitively knows how to use is. How fucking funny is that conceptually?? Her go to if things are serious or she doesn’t have time to pick something obscure is a longsword. Dad uses a greatsword, and a longsword is pretty close to that! Image how cool they looked fighting off assholes, back to back, with two bigass swords? Is that the only reason it’s her favorite? No of course not!!!! That would- that would be silly. And childish. Swords are just cool is all. She hasn’t used any in game, but I think she honestly just doesn’t like any kind of polearm. It’s like, is it technically safer to be a little further from your enemy? Sure. Does it give you a small tactical advantage? Maybe so. But they’re so uglyyyy and they look weird and you have to use both hands and the balance is weird and >:( Spears can stay because you can throw them but you’re on thin fucking ice.

Cog

7. If your character was allowed to murder one person without any consequences, who would it be and why? Thank GOD Alex I wanted this one for Cog SO bad!!! Valentine WastelandGame! If you can read this! You’re a dead motherfucker!! This is for a variety of reasons including but not limited to: - Is responsible for the deaths of at least 3 separate world leaders! Uh oh! - Asked for my blood one time! To do Science on! Not cool! - Ace doesn’t like him. Enough said. - Called Ace “hotheaded” and “brutish” keep his NAME out of your MOUTH - Is fucking Maelo’s ex I think? Honestly I lost that plot on that one a little bit - Keeps taking Sunny on dates! We’re protective and Jealous?? Hard to say! We don’t have time to unpack this one let’s keep moving - Is convinced aliens exist? And are coming to attack the world? OKAY - Talks in fucking circles about philosophy and the greater meaning of “good” and “evil” in the context of the world. Like, no sir! Good is when you help people and evil is when you kill them! Except unless it’s me killing you which is going to happen because I can cast Finger of Death now and you better believe that spell has your fucking name on it. Freak boy. - Just like. Eats straight raw steak. Not Evil but really weird and probably not great for you? - Overall just a very bad slimy manipulative and stinky dude. 0/10 I’m gonna put an arcane bullet in his skull. Like. Everything Valentine does, everything she learns about him, convinces Cog more and more that the world would be a better, safer place if he wasn’t allowed to exist in it anymore. She was kinda neutral on the guy until he gave his grand speech in Cormir about how the only way to save the world is to ‘conquer and subdue it’ and tried to talk her in circles enough that she had to agree with him or seem like a hypocrite. Since then, it’s been a slow creep from “I don’t trust this man and don’t want to work with him again, even if it makes our lives harder” to “he’s dangerous and needs to be stopped” to “...if given the opportunity, I would kill him myself”. And now that she has our new friend the Shadow Demon whispering in her ear, telling her that “the world will tremble and change before her” and that she should “stride boldly, and fear not the consequences that may follow” honestly? The next time we see Valentine, he might be in trouble! 10. What were the character’s parents like? What was the affect the parents had on the character? Oh, is there trauma in this one? Is there? Alex? Is there? Maybe so!! We’re gonna talk about Cog’s dad first, because he’s a) still alive and b) I KNOW you’re fishing for more mom angst. Cog’s dad name is Conrad Grace! He’s the head of Lafaroh’s town guard, whatever that means for a town of maybe a hundred people. I feel like his day to day really consists more of making rounds to check on people than dealing with criminals, although he likely has to break up the occasional disagreement or toss somebody in the drunk tank for the night. He’s also in charge of making sure the Guardians -the gods that live deep in the swamp outside Lafaroh and protect the town in exchange for food, building supplies, the occasional corpse, and other resources- get their offerings (This is Important, because he does Stop doing that soon). He married into he Grace family (that’s RIGHT he took his wife’s last name because it’s 2021 and he’s Woke not because her family like runs the town okay moving on), initially because I genuinely believe he fell in love! They were probably pretty young, because Lafaroh is very much a Deep South Swamp Town Analogue, but I don’t think it was just a social power move. The most important Conrad fact? He told Cog that he became disillusioned with the Church when she left home, because he couldn’t imagine continuing to support something he could now see had so clearly been hurting her. And I, Rebekah, a homosexual who has had Words with my Christian parents about the way their religion has hurt me? OH buddy we were a little bit of a mess about it. DM Ryan! Don’t you know I’m projecting!! Please be more careful! (Editor’s Note: This is the moment that made me realize I was projecting. Whoopso!!) Cog’s mom name is Charlotte Grace Sr. because, I guess, we’re freaks. I hate that this makes Cog technically a junior because the thought of anyone calling her Charlotte Jr. makes me break out in hives, but it is, technically, correct. The distinction while Cog was growing up was, instead, “Charlotte” and “Charlotte Olivia” because, again, we’re southern as hell. Charlotte Sr. is, unsurprisingly, the head of Lafaroh’s church, which means she very much has more actual power than her husband does. She did love Cog, I think, but in a way that very much more felt like someone guarding an investment than raising a child, especially when Cog became a teenager. She had high, exacting expectations, and grew more distant from Cog the older she got. Whether this was an unintentional side-effect of Charlotte Sr. becoming more engrossed in the preparations necessary to allow Cog to become the “Conduit”, or whether it was a purposeful decision because she knew she would lose her daughter and wanted the sacrifice to hurt less is unclear. Cog’s dad is kinda just a dude, but we KNOW this bitch has mommy issues. I also think an important distinction to draw between the two is that while I’m willing to give Conrad the benefit of the doubt and say that he may have just wanted Cog to stay in Lafaroh when they party returned because he was worried about his daughter and wanted her home, Charlotte Sr. wanted Cog there because it was Where She Was Supposed To Be, because she had a destiny to fulfill. More than that, when Charlotte Sr. found out that Conrad had stopped sending supplies to the Guardians when Cog left and had instead been selling them to Bandits to get money to rebuild the town, she was not nearly so understanding. She accused him of heresy, and ordered for him to be, uh. Flayed alive. Which wasn’t great. It’s what got her killed ultimately; Cog had to choose between her parents, and after watching her Mama summon a shadow demon that very nearly choked the life out of Sunny? It was a choice with only one possible outcome.

Caspian

18. Would society call your character a good guy or a bad guy? What would they say they are? Caspian is. Caspian is Just a person. Like she is just out here doing her best, trying not to get killed by, idk. Pirates or ghosts or w/e. This is an endeavor that, statistically, could be going a lot better. I think the more interesting angle to look at this question from is the fact that she’s a monk from a well known monastery, and that there’s Expectations on how she conducts herself in the world as a result of that. She is Just A Person, but that’s not good enough. Not when she’s running around wearing Pelor’s holy symbol, representing his monastery, reflecting on him. For a long time, I think Caspian resented the expectation that put on her! Why can’t she just be a kid? Just a person? She didn’t ask to be raised by these monks in this kind of life. But when she left home and realized how suddenly lonely she was, there were quiet, sad moments it was easy to soften with prayer. Rekindling her relationship with her god was her way of staying connected to home, and I think it also made her want to go from being Just a Person to actually wanting to take pride in being a Good Person. And then her campaign lasted for two fucking seconds lmao so it didn’t even matter hahah! :)

Ryker

4. Has your character ever been hurt or betrayed by someone they thought they could depend on? What happened? YEAH BOY rye-bread got his SHIT handed to him lmaoooo His whole “why are you adventuring?” deal is that he fell in love with the noblewoman he was hired to escort across the country to her betrothed’s estate, and she played him like a fucking fiddle and convinced him -after her wedding, after she was pregnant with her husband’s first child and therefore heir- that she was in love with him too. But of course, because she was married, her husband would never let them be happy together. She talked Ryker into killing her husband, and promised to meet him the night he did it with horses and supplies for both of them. Anyone reading along at home with even a shred of common sense probably just said, “uh oh!” And uh oh indeed; she fully sold his ass out. There’s something emotionally devastating about slipping out of the bedroom of the man you just killed, his blood still on your hands, to find the woman you love standing between two enormous guards, but I can’t quite put my finger on what. Ryker figured out her plan in the following days he spent in a cell, awaiting execution. She didn’t love her husband, but by playing the role of grieving widow and anxious mother-to-be she could ingratiate herself with his family enough to be allowed to take control of the estate while her son, the true heir, grew up to run it. It was cruel, and clean, and if Ryker hadn’t managed to escape it would have gone off without a hitch.

Brilliance

17. Is your character afraid of death? Why/why not? Brilliance isn’t afraid of death, she’s afraid for what she’d leave behind. One of the songs on her playlist really leans into this (and I’m very excited to be posting her playlist soon! Stay tuned!), because she is terrified of what her death might do to Sienna. She never planned to become an adventurer, much less travel to the Hells to try and save an entire city. She was content, more than content, to guard Sune’s church, to help the people that came seeking her goddess’ blessing and guidance. When her city faced a sudden influx of refugees from Elturel after its destruction, she was even happy to volunteer to help the Flaming Fist keep order and root out would-be troublemakers. She never meant to get caught up in a job that would take her out of her home city, much less out of her home plane entirely. Every fight she got into in Hell, every time it seemed like she may be staring down something that might kill her, Brilliance had to swallow down the overwhelming guilt of knowing that if she died here Sienna would never know what happened to her. The image of Sienna, worried and pacing, looking toward the door to their apartment every time there was so much as a whisper in the hallway, desperate for any sign that Brilliance had come home-- It wasn’t delusions of self-importance or self-preservation that had Brilliance taking Glasya’s deal to save her from the narzugon’s clutches; it was the image of Sienna collapsing onto their bed and sobbing because she finally admitted to herself that Brilliance was never coming home. Still. Sienna needs her, but her party needs her too. They’re counting on her to be there for them, to take the big hits that they can’t handle. First one in, last one out; she doesn’t leave until everyone else is safe. She wants to survive, she wants to go home and marry the woman she loves, but she couldn’t live with herself if she did it at the cost of the life of someone who was depending on her. Brilliance isn’t afraid of death; she would die for her party members, even the ones she doesn’t particularly like. She just knows exactly what the cost of her death would be.

#sometimes.........i am a prose boy. sometimes....i write answers like 7 for cog. depends #rainivere #amnesia campaign #ayen morwraek #creepy campaign #cog #wasteland campaign #caspian #gos #ryker #brilliance #dia #syn-odics #answered #also idk if i've mentioned it before but it's very important to me that y'all know the bit about it being 2021 wasn't a joke #canonically wasteland game takes place in 2021 so folks things are Really gonna go to shit in the next four months lmao #uh oh!!#word count: 2633 #mine

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lightdusk96 · 5 years

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The Kids Are Alright

(Hello, everyone! It’s my birthday today, so I made this little thing here to celebrate! This is a tribute to all my friends, especially my writing buddies Ava @fireflyxrebel and @nightglider124 ! Credit goes to @loubuggins for letting me use her lovely BBRae kid OC’s Mark and Maria Logan!)

The Kids Are Alright

«How longer until we get there, Dick?»

Richard Grayson glanced at his beloved wife, as his attention was on the veichle ahead of them. «Not too long, I think. I remember Bruce said the place is just beyond this clearing.»

Kory only hummed in response before looking back to see the kids. Jake was sleeping peacefully, his short black hair messy and unkempt, while Mar’i was bouncing with excitement, her long dark hair fluttering up and down as she did. She always had an urge to explore and see new places, so this idea of going to this new summer resort for a few days was right up her alley.

Kory couldn’t help but smile, her daughter’s happiness being irresistably infectious. It was going to be a very fun couple of days.

It wasn’t even a few moments before her train of thought was halted by the car slowing down to a halt.

«Woah… I think this is it.»

Dick’s exclamation was one that Kory soon shared as soon as she laid eyes on the place. It was a beautiful cabin made entirely out of wood, with a painstakingly-crafted stone pathway that lead to a small beach, a seemingly uncountable variety of flowers growing on both sides of said path, big windows and lanters completing the a look that was luxirous, yet simple.

Kory gave her gobsmacked husband a knowing look. «We get this beautiful home AND a beach?! I believe you said you wanted something small…»

He smirked at her teasing comment. «Well, OK, not TOO small…»

Kory just shook her head at that. «The house, I get. But a beach?»

Dick’s smirk grew into a full out grin, wrapping a strand of Kory’s firery red hair around his finger. «You mean you don’t want to see me in nothing but a swimsuit?»

Kory’s round cheeks had a soft shade of pink in them as soon as he finished that sentence. «While you make a good point, I don’t think we should talk like that in front of the kids…»

«Right, sorry. I’ll just go and get our things.»

Kory turned to their daughter as Dick got out of the car and started unloading the trunk. «So, what do you think, Starshine?»

Mar’i smile was so bright that it lit the entire interior of the car. «It’s soooo pretty! I LOVE IT!»

Her outburst of excitement woke up Jake, who after shaking off some sleep-induced sluggishness, took one look at their home and stared at it with an open mouth.

«Wooooooow… it’s biiiiig!»

Kory giggled at his blunt, yet apt description as she got out of her seat and out of the car, her children following her. The kids got their backpacks while Mommy and Daddy got the heavy suitcases. Mommy carried the bulk of them for the obvious reason that she was stronger than Daddy.

As they unloaded the trunk, the green Smart that followed behind them stopped a short distance away from them. The Logan family emerged from the car in very good spirits, despite the long trip. Raven showed a rare smile as she held the hand of her son Mark in her own and Garfield was laughing alongside his daughter Maria as they raced each other to the house in front of them. As for their luggage, Raven just levitated it to the cabin. It was times like this that she honestly considered her powers an actual blessing.

Raven turned to Richard as he carried two suitcases down the stone pathway. «Just a small resort, eh?»

«Ah, it’s eight of us, we’ll need the space. Especially with our kids having superpowers and all.»

Raven simply hummed in response as she guided Mark towards the cabin, Kory floating beside her carrying several big suitcases. And her two children, who were letting out excited squeals over how fun of a ride their mommy can be.

The unpacking did not take very long, thanks to the fact that most of the residents had superpowers that made it much easier. As soon as the adults were finished, Maria took the liberty of asking what the rest of the kids behind her were thinking.

«Mommy, can we go out and play now?»

Raven gently stroked her green hair, a warm smile on her face. «Go ahead, sweetie. But be careful and be back by lunchtime, okay?»

Maria rapidly nodded her head. «Yes, mommy!»

Mar’i was jumping up and down in joy, as Mark and Jake gave each other a mischievous look. «Alright, play time!»

Jake and Mark took off before Mar’i could even finish her sentence. «LAST ONE THERE IS A ROTTEN EGG!»

The girls were shocked in place for a brief moment before giving chase. «Hey, good boys are supposed to let ladies go first!»

Mark had this to say as he looked back at the girls running behind them. «You’re not a lady, you’re just a sister!»

Gar laughed at their antics as was lounging on the sofa after he set up his and Rae’s room, very satisfied with how the place looked. «It’s a real nice place you got here, Dick. It reminds me of a place I know of, but that’s inside a forest by a lake, not near a beach.»

Dick riased an eyebrow from his seat on the other side of the sofa, his lovely wife snuggling against his shoulder. «Really? It sounds like a pretty cool place. Maybe we should should go there next time we take a few days off with the kids.»

«It’d be cool with me! I know the kids would love it!»

Kory raised her haed slightly at this. «Speaking of the kids, how are the twins fairing, Gar? How are they handling their powers so far?»

Gar shifted his lounging position to and upright one. «Well, Maria is handling hers pretty well. She’s already got a good handle on teleporting and can move some small things with her telekinesis. Mark’s getting the hand of it too, although it can get pretty hard sometimes. So far he’s displayed animal senses and empathy, and these can be very difficult to tone down. Said that his head hurt from feeling to many conflicting emotions all at once at schools, while his animals senses can make it hard to sleep. But that was just at first. He’s been seeing both of us and he’s learned to surpress them to the point where it’s not nearly as much of an issue anymore. It’s worth noting that he adapted to his empathy extremely quickly, even Rae was impressed by how swiftly he controlled it. In fact, these helped him make fast bonds with pets and other animals around him.» Gar’s eyes lit up in happiness as he remembered the Mark’s look of pure wonder on his cute little face when he made his first animal friend, a tiger in a zoo that they visited 2 years ago.

Kory let out a huge smile of admiration for how well Gar had conducted himself. «It all sounds glorious, Gar! I am very happy for you and your family! I always knew you would make a wonderful father!»

Gar couldn’t help but puff his chest out in pride at this. Despite his caring for the kids being entirely out of love for them, it did feel nice to be appreciated.

«Thanks, Kory. So, how about Mar’i and Jake? They doing well, or is Dick being a Dick again?»

Dick rolled his eyes out at this. «Wow, that was almost an hour without a joke about my name! I’m impressed!»

Gar’s signature toothy grin was very quickly formed around his face. «Well,I would make more, but I don’t have much time for dicking around these days, y’know?»

Dick couldn’t hold his chuckle in time. «Mar’i and Jake are doing fine. Mar’i has got a pretty comfortable hold on her powers, while Jake is getting there steadily. He can’t fly like his sister, but he does have super-strength and starbolts, which he used to launch a bully on the other side of an alley 3 months ago. He didn’t get hurt, thankfully. Mar’i has been really helpful to him as he adjusted to his powers. They’re a pretty tight-knit duo.»

Raven came out from the kitchen, with a tray of teacups and a teapot that softly let out steam.«A new Dynamic Duo, eh? Sounds good.»

As the four adults drank from their cups, they couldn’t but think just how far they’ve come in their lives, to the point where they’ve become capable parents when it felt like it was just yesterday that they were teenagers barely able to handle their own well-beings, much less their own. That feeling of accomplishmenmt and pride combined with the warm tea trickling down their stomachs felt them with a feeling of warmth that could be sensed throughout the entire room as their children played outside in the sand, shouting at each other over not being able to use their powers for hide and seek.

#teen titans #robstar #starfire #robin #dc #beast boy #raven #bbrae #dickkory #fanfic #dick grayson #koriand'r #rachel roth #garfield logan #birthday fic!#for all my friends!#check out ava and night's fics #they're the queens of robstar and bbrae

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