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It was the first time I was meeting the team. Derek and I have been dating for a year now and I never met the team yet. He was worried that as soon as I met them something would happen. But finally he wanted me to meet them because as he said, he loves me and his family then we should meet. David was throwing a party for New Years and Derek wanted to bring me. Derek picked me up and we were on our way to the party.
“Do you think they’ll like me?” I asked playing with my hands.
“They’ll love you!” He said with a laugh.
“How do you know for sure?” I asked worried.
“Because I love you.” He said grabbing my hand and kissing the back of it. He rubbed them a little bit to try and warm them up.
“They might just not like that your hands are always freezing.” He said and I laughed.
“You got use to it.” I said and he laughed.
“Yeah, it took awhile.” He said and I shook my head. We pulled up to David’s large house and my eyes widened.
“Whoa, what a house.” I said and Derek laughed.
“Yeah, Rossi’s house is pretty nice.” He said and I smiled.
“Nice is an understatement.” I said and he laughed.
“Right, well let’s go. Time to meet the family.” He said. I smiled and we got out of the car. Derek knocked on the door and David answered.
“Morgan benvenuto! And you must be Y/N!” He said letting us in.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you. Derek has told me so much about you and the team.” I said with a smile.
“Morgan has told us so much about you.” He said extending his hand. I took it to shake and he pulled away after two shakes.
“Are you okay? Your hands are so cold!” He said and Derek smiled.
“Right, I’m sorry. I have anemia, nothing too serious but my hands are pretty much always cold.” I said with a slight laugh.
“Ah, I see.” He said with a smile.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He added. He lead us to the backyard and everyone was back there.
“So this is the secret girl Morgan’s been keeping from us.” A woman with black hair said with a smirk.
“Alright, alright, you get to meet her now.” Derek said with a smile.
“Hi, I’m Jenifer, JJ for short.” A woman with blonde hair said.
“I’m Y/N.” I said with a smile and taking her hand. She pulled back with a shock and I smiled.
“Sorry, anemia.” I said with a laugh.
“I probably should have told you guys about that before.” Derek laughed.
“Anemia is dangerous, do you have your medication?” A tall skinny man with brown hair asked.
“You must be Dr. Spencer Reid.” I said with a smile.
“Yeah, that’s boy guines.” Derek said with a smile. Derek introduced me to everyone else and everyone was so nice and welcoming.
“So how did you two meet?” Emily asked.
“We met at the bar we usually go to after work.” Derek answered.
“So you already saw him be a dog.” She said and laughed.
“He’s not that bad.” I laughed.
“Are you kidding me?” JJ asked.
“I’ve been trying to tell them that!” Penelope said and I smiled.
“Yeah, he’s actually very sweet.” I said.
“Come on Princess, you’re killing my street cred.” Derek said and I laughed.
“Sorry baby.” I said and kissed his cheek.
“So Morgan, how do you deal with her cold hands?” David asked.
“Honestly, you get use to it.” He said and they looked at him shocked.
“Really?” Aaron asked.
“Yeah, she may have cold hands, but her heart is warm as hell.” He said and placed an arm around my shoulder.
“You’re crazy.” I said shaking my head with a smile.
Truth be told, there are way worse ways to spend the night. Sure, this hadn’t been part of the plan at all, but as plans go, this is literally the best way they could go wrong.
Dick drops the last marshmallows into the cups of hot chocolate, picks up the tray and balances it in one hand while reaching for the candle with the other one. Once he’s got the two things under control, he walks back to the living room, where Clark, Conner, Bruce and the twins await. There’s a Monopoly board on the coffee table, bags of chips all over the floor and candles placed in strategic places to provide some light to the very dark room. It’s the new moon, and the blizzard continues, so it’s not like they can rely on exterior nocturnal lighting to help them out with this power outage. It’s so dark and cold and creepy outside that even Bruce had admitted going back to Gotham was a bad idea, which is how they ended up having dinner and playing Monopoly together in the first place.
“Here we go,” Dick says, folding himself down to the floor before passing out the warm cups. Clark takes his with a grin, Conner mutters his thanks. Bruce… Bruce shifts where he’s sitting on the couch, first one way, then another. He looks so darn uncomfortable. Then again, Dick knows firsthand how awkward and frustrated he felt when he was six months pregnant. If he had a rough time, he knows Bruce feels maybe a bajillion times worse.
“You’re not going to crush the baby by moving around normally,” he offers, leaning closer to Bruce to place the cup in his hand.
“I can't move normally,” Bruce grits out, scowling.
“You can, even if it doesn't feel like it. Or rather, just stop being mad about being pregnant and deal with it.”
Bruce’s frown deepens. “I’m not—”
“Take someone else’s advice for once, Bruce. It’s harder if you fight the pregnancy and the limitations it brings you. When you do that, you realize there weren’t even many limitations to start with.”
Bruce grunts. He shifts, manages to find a comfortable position and proceeds to ignore Dick, opting instead to focus on Monopoly. Dick rolls his eyes.
“I’ve tried telling him the same thing,” Clark pipes up, taking a sip of his chocolate while letting Colin play with his fingers. “He doesn't listen to me either.”
“Bruce doesn't listen to anyone,” Dick says.
“I know, but I still feel like trying to be reassuring and you know, helpful.” Clark looks over at Bruce. “You know that, right? I know it isn't easy for you, not one little bit, and I don't want to make anything harder for you.”
Bruce hums. He doesn't answer, only nods in Dick’s direction. “Your turn.”
Clark sighs. “Any tips on how to be helpful?” he asks.
Conner and Dick glance at each other.
“I’m not sure,” Dick starts. “I mean, I didn’t like being benched at first, or having to change my workout routine, but by the sixth month I knew I was carrying twins and… well, I knew their safety was more important than me being sulky.”
“I am not being sulky,” Bruce says.
They all ignore him. Conner clears his throat, then speaks. “I don't think I have any particular tip or bit of advice to give. Dick was a real trooper, and despite the drastic turn it brought into his life, he hardly complained, and he never seemed to regret it… right?”
Dick shakes his head. “Not once, and I never will. Carter and Colin will always be the best thing to happen to me. To us.”
Conner motions at him. “Yeah. He was always so strong, and I just… I don't know. I always wanted and tried to be there, for whatever he needed, whenever he needed it. If Dick could handle being the pregnant one, what type of partner would I be if I didn’t support him every way I possibly could?” Conner shrugs. “It sounds cheesy, but that’s how I always felt.”
Clark looks thoughtful for a few seconds. Then, he nods. “Thanks,” he says.
They play a few more rounds in silence. Then, much to everyone’s surprise, Bruce is the one who sighs, and glares at each of them in turn, ending with Clark, and he holds the glare as he speaks.
“I don't regret a single thing,” he growls, enunciating each word carefully. “I do not regret… conceiving a child with you, or carrying them. I don't like the changes I have had to make. I don't like not being in control of my own body. I don't like having to adapt. But listen to me, because I will only say this once, Clark. I love this child, and I will adapt, because I want the best for them and for us, as a family.”
Clark’s breath catches. His mouth drops to the ground. Conner takes Colin from his arms just in case, places him next to his brother.
“It’ll be more than worth it, you’ll see,” Conner says, when several minutes have gone by and Clark still hasn’t said a word, and Dick couldn’t agree more.
Another Rottmnt fluffcember drabble. #17 marshamllows
Donnie came into the kitchen to finally get to enjoy his cup of hot chocolate.Thankfully it had not been waiting long so it would still be warm to drink. And by now the marshmallows he put into the cup to get a bit melted would be at the right melted consistency.
To Donnie's horror there were no marshmallows in his waiting cup of cocoa. He glared at the most likely culprit that he had left alone in the kitchen.
"Okay, where are they?" Donnie asked.
Leo looked around a moment to realize that Donnie was addressing him.
"Where is what?" Leo asked.
"My marshmallows. I put them in my hot coca mug just a minute ago before I had to go and check on a experiment really quick." Donnie snapped.
Leo gasped and put a hand to his own chest in a dramatic fashion.
"Are you accusing me of stealing your marshmallows? Me? The most innocent and guilt free turtle in the world?" Leo asked.
"Yes, I am accusing you and you know full well why." Donnie said.
"You don't even LIKE marshmallows." Leo argued.
"In hot cocoa I do." Donnie argued back.
"Which I've never understood." Leo said.
"It's a texture thing." Donnie said.
"Okay, fine. A texture thing. That does make more sense." Leo said after a moment.
"Thank you." Donnie said. "You still stole my marshmallows though. Don't think I forgot."
Leo frowned.
"I actually didn't steal your marshmallows." Leo said. "I know that bit of joking earlier made it sound like I did but I really didn't."
"If you didn't then who did?" Donnie said, arms crossed.
Leo and Donnie continued to argue over Donnie's missing marshmallows.
Splinter watched from the entrance of the kitchen as this argument continued to unfold. He would step and admit his marshmallow thievery soon. Once he was done with Leo's marshmallows he had just swiped.
Notes: ay I’m lowkey late in this but! It’s here and it’s done! Some angst but it’s in general v Soft and uhh I’m actually pretty proud of it!
Character: Oliver West
Word Count: 1193
Boats & Birds // Gregory And The Hawk
The cold wind nipped at Oliver’s nose and cheeks and frosted his breath as it left his body in a deep sigh of contentment. Hands tucked into his pockets, he strolled down the sidewalk under a sky still existing in the liminal blue of twilight. Autumn still crowned the trees in gold and crimson but hints of snow powdered days tip-toed in on cloudy white paws, lengthening the dark of night bit by bit as season slipped away. Already, lights twinkled from windows and wrapped around mailboxes. The air of festivity smelled like burning wood smoke trailing lazily from chimneys, hummed quietly in bursts of dizzying excitement as sleepy families stirred from their warm beds. The holidays brought as much chaos as they did rest and the job always tasted so much more bitter in the winter.
Becoming jaded, detaching himself from the job, was not a shield he wanted to raise. But sometimes, sometimes, the pavement stained red too deeply and the final, terrible, anguished plea stared back from eyes too much like glass and the gut-wrenching cries of the unfortunate first to get the news haunted his mind when the silence was too void-like black, consuming. Sometimes, he welcomed the tiny seed of misanthropy that settled roots in his chest.
But always, Oliver never wanted to cultivate it. He couldn’t bring himself to peacefully coexist with the weed that sprung from those tiny roots. Oh, it would be easy, so easy, to let it grow as it would. And yet, he’d seen too many hollow eyes, some living with hardly a distinction from the dead, to know better, to grow instead an active fear of the yawning, hungry void.
So, when the days shortened and the cold winds descended from the mountains, howling their lonesome despair, and the job began to look a little meaner, he’d do a little gardening of the soul.
Weaving his way around an army of potted plants, herbs, a handful of fruit trees, he felt the warmth wrapping the tiny house before he even pushed open the door made rough from paint chipping off in big, coral pink flakes.
Immediately, arms pulled him close and squeezed, Korean permeated with joy filling his ears, tugging an ear to ear grin from his lips.
“Hi, momma,” he said with a laugh, wrapping his arms tightly around her.
She gathered his hands in her own, placing hers over his to defrost his fingers. He stooped a little lower for her to press a kiss against his forehead. “Oh, let me look at you!” She cupped his face, her hands rough and calloused but oh so warm against his skin, taking in his smile, cheeks red from the cold. “Just as I thought,” she said gravely, patting his cheeks. “Handsome as ever. Let’s get you warmed up.”
“Aw, you know I learned from the best.” He followed her to the small table pushed up against one of the big windows overviewing the town’s massive mirror-like lake. Oliver settled into one of the chairs, his mother disappearing back into the kitchen and reappearing with two steaming mugs of fragrant tea. She pushed one in his direction before taking a sip from her own.
“Talk to me, Ollie. What’s wrong?”
Oliver looped his fingers around the mug’s handle and cradled it in his hands, breathing in the spicy scent of ginger. “What do you mean?” He tilted his head, careful to keep his tone light and cheery.
His mother sat across from him and set her mug to the side, hands folding together, her joy at seeing him diminishing into a soft worry playing over her features. “Oh come on, Ollie! What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t know when something was bothering my son?”
He set the mug down, hesitant, half-torn. For a moment he imagined letting the ugliness in his chest spill like blood. But he couldn’t do that to her, his loving momma who he knew worried deeply about him every time he was called out to a scene, who would stay up with him without ever asking why, who both cried with him when he found himself falling, falling, falling and helped him pick the pieces off the floor.Tough as she was, he wouldn’t allow it to plague her as it did him. “I...I can’t really talk about it.”
But he knew from the way his hurt reflected in her eyes that she knew. He didn’t have to say it. “Does it have to do with your work?”
Silence grew and stretched between them and Oliver found himself staring at his hands, unsure at how to fill it. “It’s just…” he began, then stopped. How could he begin to give the ugliness a name when he himself barely recognized the inner workings? “It hurts, momma,” he finally breathed, unable to keep the quiver out of his voice, “to know people can– can do… all of that.”
“Oh, Ollie.” She slipped his hand in between hers, squeezing gently. And in a moment as quick and sharp as a snap of someone’s fingers, he was 17 again, sitting at the same table, his mother running a thumb softly over bruised knuckles. He traced the wood grain with his eyes. If he looked at her, he’d be truly in danger of crying.
“How can people do such horrible things?”
She sighed. “Oh...I wish I could have an answer for that, Oliver. Some people simply choose to be cruel.” She paused and ran her thumb over his knuckles. “But, here’s what I do know. You, sweetheart? You and that big heart of yours? The world thrives because of people like you.”
“Do you...do you think so?” He swallowed around the lump forming in his throat.
“I might not have a fancy college degree, but this I know to be true. Every day you choose not to be cruel is a day you have already won. Don’t ever let anyone tell you this heart of yours doesn’t make a difference, my son.”
He blinked, vision blurring from watery tears threatening to come spilling forward. He cleared his throat, wrestling back the tears, the corners of his mouth upturning into a smile instead. “Thank you.”
She gave his hand a final pat before releasing him. “Well? Are you hungry?”
“Oh, man. For your cooking? Always.”
“Think you can handle making an egg this time, hmm?” Her eyes glittered with an amused light.
He scoffed, sniffing and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “I’m hurt. I’m the Gordon Ramsey of cooking eggs.”
Together, they fell into routine, every step and every breath and every quip and laugh weaving into a blanket of familiar comfort. The ease of being together, their work one born from love, the feeling of finally, finally coming home bloomed like summer in his chest. Outside, a low, rising sun gilded the sky in peach and gold and pink.
“I love you, momma.”
“I love you too, Ollie.”
And sometimes, the world was simply that: a bowl of rice, the scent of cooking meat, and eggs cracked and sizzling in a pan, all while outside, the day began anew.
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What had Myfanwy gotten herself into this time? Better yet, why had she come here and not spoken to Eliza or Teddy? She was carrying a bowl of something covered in foil when Alex got downstairs.
"What's wrong?" they asked.
"Well, hello to you, too."
"Sorry. Hello." They shoved their hands into their pockets.
"I've brought some soup for Robert."
They raised their eyebrows. "How did you know Robert was sick?"
"Because he hasn't been into the offices in two days and you keep rotating bodies amongst the other three." She handed them the soup. "Get well soon."
Hi!!! This is my first fanfic and I know it's super akward and bleh...but I hope you read it! I wrote this for @fluffcember2019 day 1: "Hold me" I think what I wrote is also prompt 15: sick. Anyways...I don't think I will be able to write everday or even right another one considering my daily schedule but I will try my best! Enjoy some hiccstrid pure fluff!
ps. they're not a couple[oops...]
"It's really cold..", Berk East High School freshmen Astrid Hofferson was walking with her friend Hiccup Haddock.
"I mean Berk's always cold but this? Today's like one of the coldest day in years." Hiccup stated. They have been walking for 20 minutes and it was getting harder to walk because of the snow and wind.
"Thank thor above!!! There's my house! I'm so happy to escape this freezing weather!" Hiccup and Astrid ran as fast as they could toward his house. Despite the thick clothes slowing down their run, they arrived swiftly to the front port and opened the door in a second.
"Hey, Hiccup. When does the blizzard stop? I mean I gotta go home." she stated, "My parents might go nuts if they are thinking I'm out in that friggin blizzard."
Hiccup checked his phone and noticed the blizzard will be continuing till next day morning.
"Really sorry for you Ast but, the blizzard isn't gonna settle down till tomorrow morning." he informed, "You can stay here if you wish. I can give you a guest room."
"Really? Then I should call my mom that I'm sleeping here or whatever." Astrid was thankful for Hiccup but grumbled because of the storm.
"Eh, he has a conference in Australia, so no. He's not gonna sleep with us. I mean not 'us'...you know what I mean..uh... anyways should I order Pizza?"
"Why not? You know my favorite, right?"
"Of course. Hawaiian Pizza with thin dough."
Astrid laughed with Hiccup.
"I think this is like the 50th time we're eating pizza."
"Doubt that. It might be the 51st time."
Hiccup snorted. Astrid was always competitive even when it comes to numbers.
"Wanna watch a movie?"
Suddenly, Astrid coughed.
"Woah. Are you okay?" Hiccup said worryingly, " I think you might have caught a cold."
"Just fuzzy I guess" Astrid shrugged, "Don't worry Hicc….uhh ACHOO!"
"You sure? Uhh...your coughs don't sound like normal sneezes or something."
"Movie?" Astrid wanted to change the topic. She ISN'T sick!!!! Right?!??
Hiccup glared at her with suspicion but just asked her what movie she wants to watch. Astrid replied that she just wanted to see Disney's original movies so Hiccup tuned on High School Musical. Astrid kept coughing but she kept denied that she is sick. After twenty minutes, the pizza came and they started to eat while singing along with the movie. "Oh my gosh I can't believe we remember what we saw almost ten years ago!" Hiccup chuckled, " Well many saw it more than five times those days." Astrid laughed, " I know right? I mean...Ah Choo! Ugh..." wiping her runny nose, Hiccup stared at her with full of worry. " Are you sure your okay? I know this is like the 100th time I asked you this but you really gotta get some rest." Hiccup wrapped a blanket around Astrid and accidently, brushed his hands to her forehead. It was hot. She certainly had caught a fever... "Astrid, let's tuck you into bed." Finally, Astrid gaved in after she felt like her head is going to explode and everything feels like it's extremely cold and hot too. Astrid and Hiccup walked up the stairs.
"Isn't thi-brr…-this your room?" Astrid voice cracked because of the cold she was developing.
"You are really sick Astrid. I can't let you sleep on the floor. There is no bed in the guest room." "-but.."
"no buts Astrid. You have to get better. The floor is too cold for you."
"hmph…."
Hiccup laid Astrid on the bed. It was a comfy and warm one. Astrid sighed as she relaxed a bit, but she was still having a hard time because of the cold.
"Thank you so much Hiccup. You really don't have to do this for me. It's just a fever..."
"No way, Astrid. Your fever is severe than others right now. Now get some sleep. I will be right next to you on the floor."
"Hiccup? You can sleep next to me." Astrid kinda blushed. Thankfully the fever covered it up.
"uhhh...it's fi- uhhh...okay. If you wish."
Astrid grinned because Hiccup's bed smelled so good. Hiccup also laid with Astrid at the corner of his bed.
Astrid giggled. Maybe she wasn't thinking right or the fever made her confused because she said, "Hold me?" and guess Hiccup got the fever also because he replied," Sure, m'lady." and hugged her. Astrid sweared that, in the next morning, she felt Hiccup kissing her forehead.
