#<- you get to decide whether I’m talking bout father or son

[nicoscheer]

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Via atraceofbodypaint

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Standing next to me with e-guitar and not acoustic like on tour

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delcleveland66 A cuddle from Miles Kane after he found out I was into me adidas

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Oh my god the camera kiss 🥹🥹🥹🫠🫠🫠

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Some wonderful pics

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Slide number 3&4 are nice pics of Miles

[quiet-onset]

New Suit

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k+

A/N: it’s been forever since I’ve posted, but I have been writing since I was stuck at home with covid 😅 Hopefully I can post something else next week too! ANYWAYS, this fic does not have any TFAWS spoilers and (as usual) does not give a fuck about Endgame, meaning our favorite dysfunctional couple Tony and Steve are alive. Steve simply passed on the mantle. Enjoy!

So Sam was Captain America. And he was proud of that fact. 

The day that Steve decided to retire and give him one of his most prized possessions was a day Sam would never forget. A whirlwind of emotions had swelled in his chest. Shock, unworthiness, gratitude. But after talking it over with Steve — and surprisingly enough, with Bucky — Sam agreed to take in the role.

The thing was, no one knew yet. At least, no one outside of the Avengers facility.

Immediately after Thanos, there weren’t really any Avengers level threats. Most threats could be handled by one team member, and it was usually one of the newbies — Peter, Scott, even Wanda. That being so, Sam didn’t have much of a reason to even make public appearances. So he didn’t.

Sometimes, he’d stand in the training room, the red, white, and blue shield strapped to his arm, and just stare in the mirror. Something felt wrong. Out of place. Like the reflection before him was almost right, but he still couldn’t tell what was wrong. Tony had caught him one time as he stepped into the room, a sports bottle full of ice cold water in his hand. “Mid-life crisis?”

Sam jumped at his loud voice and almost scrambled to detach the shield from his arm, like a kid caught with his grubby little hand in the cookie jar. “My bad, I’ll just—“

“No no, keep it on.” Tony waved a hand. “I gave it to Steve, he gave it to you. It’s yours, no give backsies.”

Sam nodded but took the shield off anyway. He decided that he didn’t need to train anymore and headed toward the door. “I’m just gonna go put this back.”

“What is going on with you, Wilson?”

“What do you mean?”

Tony raised a brow, “What do I mean? You staying cooped up in this facility. Barely training with the shield. Opting out of assignments. That’s what I mean.”

“There’s not much of a need.”

“There is. You just don’t see it yet.” Tony walked toward him. “Look, I know being the new Cap has you freaked out—“

“I’m not freaked out.”

“Sure. But Steve chose you and that should be good enough.”

“It is.” Sam huffed as he turned the shield in his hands. “I don’t know, man. I just… It’s just hard to believe. Hard to put in action, I guess.”

“Well, seeing is believing.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Head to room 626 when you get a chance.”

“What’s in room 626?”

“You’ll see.”

—

Sam exited the elevator on the sixth floor to loud muffled music. Looking around, he realized he’d never even been to that part of the facility before. The white walls and obscure art seemed strange and misplaced in a building full of superhumans. Too clean, too elegant. 

Each of the rooms seemed that way too. Sam paused in the hallway, glancing through some of the glass doors with people’s names painted neatly at the top. Hardwood floors and marble countertops in each room. So impeccably clean that even dust bunnies wouldn’t dare step foot inside. 

Yet, when Sam approached room 626, he realized this was where the loud music was coming from. Different from the other rooms, this one was messy and colorful. He slid the glass door open, flinching at loud volume. 

He recognized the track — his father used to listen to it all the time when he was growing up. He could almost hear his dad’s deep voice teasing him: “You don’t know nothin’ ‘bout this, son. This was before your time.” Of course Sam knew the song. His dad was the one who put him on. Still, Sam’s dad always got a kick out the playful fight he put up. 

The long, seemingly endless hallway was painted a blinding white. He could make out a peculiar smell as he walked toward the end of the hall. Wet paint or fumes, he wasn’t really sure. He just pulled his shirt over his nose and kept looking for… well only God really knew. 

Finally, he arrived in the main room and saw you and your controlled chaos. You had ten or twenty different fabrics pinned to one wall and sketches of different outfits pinned to the opposing one. Against the back wall were mannequins wearing your works in progress. And just in front of Sam on a large wooden desk were schematics and what looked like engineering tools. Soldering iron, wires, circuit boards, and the like.

Everything seemed like a tornado of colors, clothes, and fabric. But you? You were as cool as a cucumber with your expensive looking spray painting mask strapped on as you sprayed the back of a jean jacket with bright pink paint. Sam chuckled when he heard your muffled voice sing along to the song, not noticing his presence. “Sherry bay-yay-by. Sherry, wontcha come out tonight.”

Sam pulled his shirt back down with a small grin on his lips, debating whether he should disturb you. In the end, he decided to save you the embarrassment, but by then, you’d already moved on to the next verse. You dropped your voice down low in an attempt to sound just like Nick Massi, singing, “Why don’t you come on.”

Sam let out a loud laugh, only covering it with his hand as you jumped, finally realizing someone else was in the room. “Sorry.” Sam chuckled. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your concert.”

You pulled the mask over your head, revealing a nervous smile. You jogged to the desk and grabbed the remote to switch off the stereo. “Concert’s a flattering choice of words.”

“Well you were really nailing that Massi.”

You raised a brow as you set down the can of spray paint. “You listen to Four Seasons?”

“Growing up, it was a staple in the Wilson household.” He offered his hand. “I’m Sam, by the way.”

“Y/N.” You shook it, an impressed smile on your face. “So what can I do for you, Sam?”

“I’m actually not sure. Tony just kinda sent me up here.” He raised a brow when you gasped, amused with your excitement. He smiled as the cute squeal that pushed past your lips. “I assume you know what that means.”

“I’ve been asking him forever if I could design your new suit!”

“New suit?”

“I mean, if you’re okay with it.” You added.

“I just don’t see why I need a new suit is all.” Sam shrugged as he looked around at all your work. He knew, way deep down in the rational part of his consciousness, that he needed a new suit. There wasn’t anything wrong with his Falcon suit, but wearing a new suit seemed too definite. If he put on a new combat suit, it meant that he was fully stepping into this new role. That he would be Captain America in more than just name. People would look at him, at his suit, and recognize that he was the Captain America.

“How about this?” You stepped toward him, prepared to bargain. “Let me make you a suit. If you don’t like it, I’ll just give your Falcon suit an upgrade. Deal?”

He let out a nervous chuckle at your offer. He had nothing to lose, really. Either way, he got upgrades. Still, he looked over at you and decided he couldn’t be the one to snuff the ambitious look in your dark eyes. He shook your hand, smiling softly at the triumphant grin that broke across your face. “Deal.”

“Great!” You were bouncing on your toes when he agreed. You practically raced back to your desk and started shuffling through your sketches and until you found the folder you were searching for. You handed them to Sam, “You can come back tomorrow morning so I can take your measurements. Till then, look through these sketches and tell me what you like.”

“So you’ve been working on this for awhile?” Sam asked, briefly flipping through the many colorful sketches.

“Ever since Tony told me about you.”

He let out a breath of amusement through his nose. Of course it was Tony, trying to set things in motion before Sam was even sure of what he wanted. Still, he knew Tony was trying to help. Sam gestured with the folder. “I’ll take a look.”

“Cool. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

— 

When Same woke up the next day, he found himself immediately thinking about meeting with you later. He felt weird. Nervous, even. Whether it was due to the idea of a new suit �� of being Captain America — or seeing you, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he felt like a swarm of butterflies had flown from his stomach to his throat and decided to make a home there.

After stepping out of the shower, which took twenty more minutes than usual, he fumbled around for something to wear. What was he supposed to wear to fitting anyway? Sweats? Jeans? As his mind wandered, he thought of you. Rather, he thought of how you would see him. Maybe I should wear the green shirt, he thought. Girls always seem to like the green shirt.

He paused. Why was he thinking that?

He’d just met you. He knew a total of two facts about you: your name was Y/N and you listened to Four Seasons. That was hardly enough for Sam to be worried about how he looked for you. Yet, there he was, slipping on the dark green shirt that seemed to stretch ever so slightly across his broad chest. He settled on a pair of dark jeans before heading down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

As he stepped into the communal kitchen, Bucky was already sitting at the island, back facing Sam. He had just returned from his daily run, still in his sweatpants and white T-shirt with a cup of coffee in front of him. “There’s still fresh coffee in the pot.” Bucky mumbled into his cup as he flipped to the next page of the newspaper.

“Thanks.” Sam walked past him, slapping the newspaper into Bucky’s face as he walked by. “Why are you reading a newspaper?”

“To keep up with the news. Like a normal person.”

“There are these great new things called cell phones. Most people read the news on those now.” 

“Well, I’m not most people, am I?” Bucky lowered the newspaper and furrowed his brow at the sight of Sam. “What girl are you trying to impress?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Green shirt.”

“What about it?”

“That’s your ‘I want a girl to like me’ shirt.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sam scoffed as he poured a second cup of coffee. “This is just a shirt.”

“The shirt.”

“I’m not having this argument with you.”

“Not much of an argument when you know I’m right.” Bucky smirked. “Who’s the second cup for?”

Sam paused as he realized he’d been caught, but quickly recovered with an eye roll. “For me. So I don’t have to come back and hear your annoying ass voice.”

“Mhm. Tell the girl I said hi.” 

“Screw you.” Sam left the kitchen to the sound Bucky’s chuckles, reluctant to admit that he was right. Moments later, he was waiting for the elevator, tapping his shoe to distract himself from the butterflies that were starting to flutter around again. When the doors slid open, Tony briefly greeted Sam before stopping and pulling off his glasses. “Green shirt?”

Sam stepped past him. “Shut up.”

Every step closer to your workspace had him jittery. Not only was he forced to deal with these unfamiliar feelings for you — if that’s what they were — but he was finally being confronted with his new position. One step closer to replacing Steve. To being Captain America. Yet, he couldn’t deny, he could envision himself in some of the suits you had sketched for him. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

When he entered 626, there was loud music playing once again. Another old song he recognized, Van Morrison. He smiled at the thought of you dancing around your space again, singing along to Brown Eyed Girl. It wasn’t so much about him catching you in the act. It was nice, a privilege really, to see the natural you. Eyes closed, arms up, hips swaying. Seeing how you act when you believed no one was watching was like strangely endearing.

And there you were, almost matching his wandering thoughts to a tee. You were setting up for work, once again not noticing Sam’s arrival. You danced across the room as you moved things from place to place. You began to sing out the words as you prepared to lift your tri-fold mirror. Sam broke from the trance and called out your name. You jumped and placed a hand over your heart, laughing quietly when you saw it was only him. “Caught me again.”

“To be fair, you seem pretty easy to catch with the way you get lost in music.” Sam smiled, placing the coffee cups on your desk, far from any of your papers. “Let me get that for you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“It’s no problem. Just tell where you want it.”

You stepped away from the mirror, tossing a stray braid over your shoulder with a smile. “Just over there, in front of that pedestal. Thanks.” When he went to lift it, your eyes were drawn to his arms, watching his biceps flex. You caught yourself before you could begin to stare, heat rising to your cheeks as you went to look for your measuring tape.

“Oh, by the way, I brought you a cup of coffee.” Sam mentioned as he set the mirror down. “You know, if you drink it? I didn’t know what you put in it, if anything, so it’s black. Is that okay?”

“That’s perfect, actually.” You sighed happily. “I’ve been trying to replace coffee with loud music in the mornings, hence the dancing.”

“Of course.” He chuckled in response.

“And while I love to blast Morrison at nine in the morning, it’s not the same without a hot cup of coffee.” You took the cup he offered with a smile. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

Sam couldn’t help how his heart skipped a beat. “Don’t mention it.”

You took a sip, “So, you ready to get measured for your new suit?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Great, just step onto the pedestal for me, and relax.”

“Got it.”

It was quiet as you brought the tape measure under his arms and around his chest. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but Sam was sure his nerves had to be radiating out of him. The butterflies were beating against his ribcage as you pulled just tight enough on the tape measure. You took note of the number and bent over to write it down on your notepad. Being so close to you, Sam felt himself tense up as you measured around his waist. You chuckled and looked up at him. “You gotta relax.”

“I’m relaxed.”

“If you don’t loosen up, your new suit is gonna be super tight in all the wrong places.” You joked. “Talking usually helps.”

“About what?”

“Anything.” You shrugged. “Like why are you so opposed to a new suit?”

Almost as if it was a reflex, Sam tensed up again with a nervous and playful chuckle. “Way to get me to relax.”

“I’m just saying.” You laughed, adjusting the tape once again. “It’s not like you’re not qualified. I mean, Steve chose you.”

“Yeah, he did. I wish it were that simple in my mind.” He admitted.

“What’s your mind saying?”

“What isn’t it saying?” Sam rolled his eyes at himself. “It’s just… I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I don’t want to put that on you. That’s not your job.”

“It’s not.” You agreed with a chuckle. “But that’s not why I asked. You can tell me.”

Again, with a wave of confusion, he felt the tension melt away. He didn’t know why he felt this way, like he could tell you anything and everything. There was a familiarity about you, like you were someone he’d known his entire life despite only meeting twenty hours ago. His father probably would’ve called you an old soul. Maybe in some other lifetime, in another universe, you knew each other. Or maybe, this was just fate coming to pass. Destiny finding, not two halves, but two wholes — putting them together like some sort of experiment to see what would come of it.

“It’s just… how am I supposed to follow after Steve?” He asked. “He has such a huge story, this legacy just hanging over my head. He’s been saving people since before either of us were born. And now here I am, some dude from the Air Force that met Steve completely by accident, about to take up his shield. It just seems unbelievable. Literally.”

You nodded as you measured around his left thigh. “First, let me say that your feelings are completely valid.”

“Why do I feel like you’re about to decimate everything I just said?”

“Not decimate!” You laughed. “Just gently prove wrong.”

“Oh, in that case.” He smiled down at you.

“Shut up.” You snapped him with the tape measure before measuring his other thigh. “Steve is not the only one with a story. I mean, Sam Wilson, the guy who grew up in Harlem, lost his parents and his best friend, and still managed to not give up? The guy Steve Rogers trusted with his life almost immediately after meeting him? The same dude who stole a top secret government project and used it to become a superhero? I think that’s pretty badass.”

Sam considered your words with a small smile. Sure, he may have seemed normal — maybe even mundane — to himself, but the fact is that he had also been through a lot. Just like Steve, Sam realized that his life was no walk in the park. Not many people couldn’t have lived Sam’s life and come out the other side not just okay but strong. He wasn’t Steve Rogers, but that didn’t matter. He was Sam Wilson, and maybe that was okay. 

“You’re good at that.” He commented quietly, looking down at you. He just about caught himself staring at you. The bright smile across your ruby shaded lips, the almost childlike excitement in your eyes. And your eyes — jesus. They were the same color as his, a dark brown. Yet, he couldn’t help but find yours so much more interesting.

“At what?”

“Talking to people.”

“Not everyone. Just...” You shook your head as you stood up straight. There was something indecipherable in his eyes — or maybe you wanted to believe it was. Still, it was there. Admiration, confusion, gratefulness? You weren’t sure. But the intensity of his stare made heat spread across your cheeks one more, and you ducked your head, moving to the side to measure the length of his arm. “Just people like you.”

Minutes later, you finished his measurement and moved on to the designs. You and Sam went through each and every one, noting his likes and dislikes. As time went on, it became very apparent that he was ready to be Captain America. Even if he wasn’t sure yet, you were. Much too soon, every detail of his new suit was planned out, and it was time for Sam to go. 

“If I make this my top priority, I can have your new suit finished in two weeks, tops.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Sam said bashfully. “I’m sure you have other work to do.”

“None as exciting or as important.”

“Now you’re just stroking my ego.” He joked.

You scoffed painfully, “Like you need me to do that.”

You walked beside him, down the hall and to the elevator. He couldn’t help but wish he had some sort of excuse to stay, but leading the Avengers meant a mountain of responsibilities. Still, he wanted to see you again. Not for work and not for designing a new suit. He wanted to get to know you away from the fabric and tape measures. He wanted to find out how someone as sweet and breathtaking as you could even exist in a world filled with such evil left and right. So, he rocked back and forth for a moment before turning to you. 

“And um, Y/N?”

“Yes?”

Sam fully intended to ask you out just then. But he felt like he couldn’t move. A feeling of nervousness he hadn’t gotten since he was a teenager, he was frozen. Staring at you like a deer in headlights, his brain screamed at him: Just ask her, you dumbass! Then, the elevator announced its arrival with a ding and broke his concentration. He cleared his throat and smiled nervously. “Thank you again. You’ve been a huge help.”

You blinked in confusion but stammered out, “Glad to be of service.”

It wasn’t until a few days later that Sam had gained the courage to do what he should’ve done in that moment. 

The city was in danger — some high-level Hydra threat — and the Avengers were needed. Everyone rushed off to suit up, including Sam. That’s when he saw it. You had just finished his suit, and it was more than Sam could’ve ever imagined. A shiny white breastplate with red decals on the torso, blue pants lined with bulletproof material, and to top it off, his signature red wings. That was something he wanted to keep. They reminded him of his humble beginnings, of what made him the man that Steve chose to be Captain America. 

And Captain America he was. 

Sam was aware of all the stares he got as he fought the Hydra agents and ended the crisis with the rest of the team. He knew it would take some getting used to. But he was pretty sure — no, extremely sure that he could do this. He could be the symbol that the public needed. 

He strolled back into the Avengers Complex, handing a handcuffed Hydra agent off to be questioned, when he saw you. You were usually there waiting, ready for feedback on your new toys and inventions. But what Sam said surprised you. 

“Hey Sam,” You started. “Did your new suit fare well? I was already thinking of some modifications based on —“

“Would you like to go out with me this Saturday?”

You blinked, lowering your clipboard in shock. “What?”

“Would you like to have dinner with me on Saturday?” He smiled wide and unabashedly. Then, with no hesitation, you smacked him on the arm with your clipboard, making him bark out a laugh. 

“Took you long enough.”

[hb-writes]

A Little Raven

Written in response to Hauntober prompt #15: Raven.

Summary: From the Little Lady Blinder universe! A chat between sisters-in-law followed by a chat between Lizzie and Tommy. This is a bit long and self-indulgent and might not be particularly consistent with canon but oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Characters Featured: Lizzie Shelby, Clara Shelby (Shelby!Sister), Tommy Shelby

—–

“Frances said you wanted me first?” 

Lizzie turned from the window, allowing the passage of a brief smile as she glanced at her sister-in-law. Like her husband, Lizzie still saw a couple of kids when she looked at Clara and Finn, still saw the little girl who passed her time with books and papers while sitting on the stoop at Watery Lane, still saw the boy with a keen eye for mischief and a disposition towards unsanctioned sweets. She supposed those visions still held true. None of them were so different to be unrecognizable through the years. Some traits endured the transition to adulthood, no matter what transpired in the interim. 

Clara stripped out of her coat, placing it over the back of the chair before following Lizzie’s gaze out to the yard where Ruby and Charles played with the nanny, their squeals and laughter sharp and clear through the pane of the closed window. 

Clara sat in one of the armchairs, pulling her feet up and working on untying her boot laces while she waited. She was used to the reticent moments, used to people taking their time in revealing why she’d been summoned somewhere in the first place. She found it a pleasant change for Lizzie to be inviting her to the drawing-room for a visit rather than Tommy summoning her to his office for one of his chats, even if her sister-in-law was very clearly preoccupied.  

The thud of Clara’s shoes hitting the floor as she slipped them off her feet pulled Lizzie’s eyes towards her for a moment before she settled them on the girl’s discarded boots, understated but still expensive, something Tommy had probably paid for. 

Lizzie wasn’t ignoring her on purpose, Clara knew that. She was just distracted, caught up in her own thoughts, turning something over in her mind. Clara just wasn’t certain how she fit into those thoughts.

“Lizzie?” Clara said.

“Mmm?” Lizzie hummed, finally fixing her eyes on Clara.

“You did ask for me, right?” Clara said. 

“I suppose you’d prefer to go be with the children,” Lizzie mused. “Or to go say hello to your brother?” 

“Is he home already?” Clara asked, glancing down at the small watch on her wrist as she adjusted the clock face. It was barely past five.

Lizzie scoffed, gave a single shake of her head. Tommy was eternally late in coming home, and habitually premature in leaving it.

“Well, that leaves more time for us to catch up, then,” Clara offered, absently kneading the arch of her foot. “I came home to be with all of you, Lizzie.”

“Right, all of us,” Lizzie answered, sitting down in an adjacent armchair. “When’s the last time you saw all of us here, Clara? When’s the last time he graced us with his presence at a decent hour?”

It was the previous Sunday, Clara remembered, and he’d come out of his office just before dinner, played with Charles and Ruby a bit before eating with Clara, Lizzie, and the kids, but Clara had the feeling Lizzie didn’t want to be reminded of that.

“Did you talk to him?” Clara asked.

Lizzie took a deep breath and nearly gagged, feeling as though she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from conjuring up the contents of her latest meal, the sick feeling in her stomach beyond the typical bout of morning sickness, more of a nauseating dread which had settled in the pit of her stomach.

The last time she’d been here, in this condition, Lizzie had been optimistic. Nearly five years later, she felt anything but. And despite all the strength she’d decided on summoning, despite deciding to stay, to accept Tommy and his faults, to balance her head against her heart, she hadn’t planned on this as a part of the deal.

‘A little you and me,’ she’d offered Tommy when she’d told him of the first baby growing inside of her, a smile on her face, a bit of hope in her heart. 

She had little hope this time, little positivity about the life prospects for yet another child of Thomas Shelby, a little boy nonetheless, a little raven-haired boy who would have his parents’ blue eyes, his father’s strong jaw, the unmistakable markings of a Shelby.

If Tommy had kept all of his promises, if he’d done right and put a proper stop to the sport for anyone named Shelby. If he’d kept Finn and Clara away from the life, Lizzie might have thought differently. She might have felt nothing but happiness at the prospect of another child with a little tuft of raven hair and bright blue eyes, but in half a decade, Tommy had dealt her plenty of empty assurances.

She feared enough for the children already. Her Ruby was a different child around her father, a bit nervous, a bit quiet. The girl didn’t know the same Tommy that Clara and Finn knew, nor the father Charlie had had for a time, at least while he was young.

This baby would never know that version of Tommy either, not really. Her children would spend their lives distant from the man they called dad, and there was part of Lizzie that didn’t think it to be a terrible thing.

Clara reached out to clasp Lizzie’s hand. “Lizz--”

“Polly says it’s a boy.”

“Oh,” Clara answered, pulling her hand back. “That’s--”

Lizzie cleared her throat and continued. “A little raven-haired boy named James.” She opened her cigarette case, placed the fag between her lips. “Jamie,” she added. “And no, I haven’t told your brother.” 

Clara frowned. She was tired of holding the secret she’d accidentally overheard when Lizzie confided in Polly. She was tired of pretending with her brother, tired of avoiding him. It wasn’t easy work, withholding information from him because, despite the best of Clara’s efforts, Tommy possessed an uncanny ability to know when his sister was keeping something from him. 

“He loves being a father, Lizzie. He’ll be--”

“Happy?” she suggested. “I’m less worried about your brother being happy than I am worried for all of you kids.” 

“All of us?”

Lizzie lit the cigarette, puffing before she pointed it at Clara.

“Yes, you and Finn are included.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, Lizzie.” 

“Right, with Finn running around getting himself shot and you--”

“What about me?”

“Neither one of you kids has a healthy sense of self-preservation, always pushing when you haven’t a need, and you’ve passed it right on to those two. Maybe it’s in the blood, an inherited recklessness that--” 

“Is that really what you’re worried about? That I’ve taught the kids to stand up for themselves and I’ll teach the baby the same?” Clara asked.

Lizzie glanced out the window again, the things she was truly scared about swirling in her mind while she watched Ruby and Charles holding hands as they went round in circles.

“It’s a bad omen, a raven,” she said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Clara answered. “A baby can’t be a bad omen.”

Lizzie was beginning to believe that the Shelby name was a curse and that despite her husband’s promises, not one of the kids would live a life unmarred by it, not Finn, not Clara, not Charles nor Ruby, and not the unborn son growing in her womb. And despite knowing Thomas Shelby loved the children, she feared what she already knew to be true, that loving a person wasn’t always enough.

These days, Tommy’s moments of softness were harder to come by. The types of moments Clara held on to when her brother was difficult, the moments that reminded her through the tough spots that he did much of what he did out of love, for protection or survival. Lizzie didn’t know her children would have that, didn’t know that a raven-haired boy looking just like his father could ever garner as much care as he’d deserve from the man, enough of the affection that he would need to someday to get through the tough spots. 

“He’s not how he once was with you,” Lizzie said.

“He’s not been like that for a long while, Lizzie, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love them.” 

“I know he loves them, loves all of you, but I worry someday they won’t have memories enough to forgive him as you do.” 

“I don’t forgive him because of the memories, Lizzie,” Clara answered. “I forgive him because he’s nearly my father and because I know he cares for me as much as I care for him. Ruby and Charles know that. Jamie will, too.”

Clara joined Lizzie on the couch. “And regardless, you care for us all well enough whether that fool joins us for dinner or not.”

Lizzie set her cigarette down in the tray and accepted Clara’s offered hug, allowing herself to release a breath of relief with the girl in her arms. 

“Well, that may be, but it doesn’t settle my nerves about you and Finn,” Lizzie said as she pulled away.

Clara rolled her eyes. “You’ve not--”

“Glad I’m not the only one concerned.” 

Clara glanced at her watch again before looking at Tommy where he stood by the door. “You’ve actually come early?”

He nodded. “Someone had Adam make it very clear in my diary that I was meant to be home at a respectable hour today.” 

Clara hummed, feigning an impressed surprise, as though she hadn’t begged Tommy’s personal secretary at the commons to adjust his schedule to accommodate him being back in Warwickshire so early on a Friday evening. 

“Right. I think I’ll leave you two and go say hello to Charlie and Ruby while we wait on Finn,” Clara offered, slipping past Tommy on her way to the door. 

“Forgetting something, Clara?”

Clara turned back to him, snatching the forgotten boots from his outstretched hand.

“When our brother gets in, we can have a talk about your excursion in London on Tuesday evening, eh?”

Clara sighed. “I think we’re a bit old for a lecture, Tommy. It was nothing.”

“Seems like you two idiots’ll never be too old for a lecture,” he answered. “But go on. Go see the kids. I’m sure they’ve been asking after you all day.” 

Tommy watched his sister leave before taking the seat beside his wife. “Now, while we wait for Finn, you and I can have a talk about that baby you’ve got growing inside you, eh Lizzie?”

Lizzie scoffed. "Polly told you then? Or was it Clara?”

Tommy shook his head. Of course, his sister knew. He cleared his throat. 

“It was actually you, Lizzie,” he said, taking her hand in his. “Been eating honey on everything. Last time you did that was when you were pregnant with our Ruby.” 

Lizzie nodded, looked out at the kids again, saw Clara had joined Ruby and Charles, and the three of them were laughing like a set of maniacs as they ran about the lawn.

“You’re worried,” Tommy offered, guiding his wife’s face to his. “Let me into that head of yours, Lizzie.” 

She leaned into his touch as he cupped her cheek, allowed herself that comfort.  

“To clear it out?” she mumbled.

Tommy nodded. “To clear it out. Just like we agreed.” 

Lizzie placed her hand on top of his.

“Ruby’ll be asking after another sister.”

“Well, she’ll be disappointed then,” Lizzie answered. “It’s a boy.”

Tommy nodded. There was a time when he thought it mattered, back when boys became blinders and girls were considered liabilities but Tommy had stopped thinking that way, started thinking that Lizzie was right. And Grace had been right. There was only one way to keep them all safe.

“Either way,” he answered. “Another little you and me, eh?”

Lizzie nodded and Tommy pulled his eyes away at the approaching footsteps and laughter as Ruby and Charlie piled into the room.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

“And what have you lot been up to, eh?” Tommy asked, pulling Ruby into his lap as Charlie came to sit beside them.

“We’ve been playing, daddy!” Ruby said.

“Dad, Aunt Clara said she and Uncle Finn are ready for a shouting at whenever you are,” Charlie said. “They went to your office.”

Tommy shook his head, glanced quickly at Lizzie before he looked back to his boy. 

“What are you going to shout at them for, daddy?” Ruby asked, turning her head to look up at him.

“Don’t you worry about that, sweetheart,” Tommy answered.

“He’s gonna shout because they’ve been naughty,” Charles said to his sister. 

“Don’t shout very much, daddy,” Ruby answered. “It’ll ruin our supper.” 

“I’m not going to shout. We’re just going to have a talk about them setting a better example for you kids.”

“And then we’ll have supper?” Ruby asked.

“Then supper, Ruby,” he said. “I had Frances ask chef to make a special honey cake for dessert.”

“For mummy?” Ruby asked. “Mummy loves honey cake.” 

“And for your baby brother,” Lizzie answered, pulling Ruby’s hand to rest on her stomach. “The one growing in my belly.”

-----

Read more Little Lady Blinder stories here.

[thelastspeecher]

Wanted to reiterate my ask. Marriage of Convenience where Orion, Iris and Apollo are teens and one of them gets into a fight with another teen who was bullying one of them. Stan, Angie, Ford and Jimmy needing to sit one or all three kids down about what happened.

              Ford and Jimmy walked into the high school’s main office.

              “Hello, I’m here because my son got into a fight,” Ford said to the secretary.  The secretary frowned at him.

              “You’re Orion’s father?”

              “Yes.”

              “But Orion’s father is already here.”  The secretary pointed to the principal’s office.  Through the window in the door, Ford could see the principal talking to Stan and Angie.

              “No, he’s Orion’s stepfather.  I’m Orion’s biological father.  His mother and I share custody.”

              “He looks a lot like Orion.”

              “He’s my twin brother,” Ford said wearily.  The secretary didn’t seem convinced.  Jimmy leaned in.  “James, please, don’t try to help.”

              “James, huh?  All right, I’ll back off,” Jimmy said.

              “Look, just get the principal, he can vouch for me,” Ford said.  The door to the main office opened.  The school’s guidance counselor walked in.

              “Chloe, Dr. Pines is Orion’s biological father,” the guidance counselor said.  “He needs to be there for the conversation with the principal.”  The secretary, apparently named Chloe, nodded.  She got up from her desk and went to the principal’s office, knocking on the door before entering.  The guidance counselor turned to Ford and Jimmy.  “Sorry about that, Dr. Pines.  Chloe’s new.”

              “It’s not the first time that has happened,” Ford muttered.  “And it won’t be the last.”  The door to the principal’s office opened.  Stan and Chloe stepped out.

              “Ford, you’re up,” Stan said boisterously.

              “You don’t want to participate in the meeting?” Ford asked.  Stan shrugged.

              “There’s not enough room in the office for all of us.”

              “So I can’t sit in on it?” Jimmy asked.  Stan shook his head.  “Damn.  Guess I’ll have to find some other way to spend my afternoon.”

              “I’m gonna take Apollo out for some ice cream if you wanna come with,” Stan said.  Jimmy thought for a moment, then shrugged.

              “Sounds good to me.  Where’s the little hell-raiser?”

              “Still in class.”

              “We get to spring him, huh?” Jimmy asked, a glint in his eye.  “I like it.”  With that, he and Stan left the main office.

Ford entered the principal’s office.  Orion and Angie were sitting across from the principal, Angie keeping her face carefully neutral and Orion’s head bowed.  Ford took a seat in the empty chair next to Angie.

              “So, what exactly happened?” Ford asked.  “The message I received merely said that there was a fight involving my child.”  Angie looked at Orion.

              “Orion, care to share?” she asked.  Orion winced.  “Go on.”

              “Fine,” Orion mumbled.  He sighed.  “Someone messed with Apollo for his name and extra fingers.”

              “Messed with him in what way?”

              “Verbally,” Orion said.  Angie cleared her throat.  Orion scowled.  “The person made a snide lil comment as he walked past.”

              “That’s it?” Ford asked.  “That hardly qualifies as a fight.”

              “It wasn’t a fight,” Angie said.  She crossed her arms, glaring at Orion.  “Not until Orion turned it into one.”

              “I don’t think I quite understand.”

              “A student made a mean comment to Apollo in passing,” Angie explained, “and Orion decided the appropriate response to that was a left hook.”

              “Wait, what?”  Ford stared at Orion.  Orion looked down at his feet.  “You instigated a physical altercation over that?”

              “I had to defend him!”

              “I’m not faulting you for wanting to protect your younger brother.  I’m faulting you for the incredibly outsized response,” Ford said firmly.  Orion glared at him.  “What do Stanley and I tell you all the time?”

              “Only start a fight if there’s no other choice,” Orion mumbled.

              “There were many other choices here, Orion.  You know that.”

              “Uncle Dad said that bullies only speak one language.  Fists.”

              “And you believed him?” Ford asked.

              “He’s my stepfather and my uncle!  Why shouldn’t I?”

              “Stanley has a very patchwork history when it comes to…peaceful resolution,” Ford said carefully.  Orion rolled his eyes.

              “He took care of you when you were a kid.”

              “Orion…”

              “We can finish this conversation at home,” Angie interrupted.  She looked at the principal.  “What is Orion’s punishment?”

              “He’s been given an out-of-school suspension for the rest of the week,” the principal answered.

              “Out-of-school?” Ford asked.  “Doesn’t that amount to giving him the rest of the week off of school?”

              “Not unless you leave him to his own devices the entire time,” the principal said.  “I trust that the two of you will make sure Orion’s punishment is actually a punishment.”

              “Yes, we will,” Angie said.  She stood up.  “Thank you fer yer time.”  She looked at Orion and Ford.  “We need to go home.”  Ford stood up as well, frowning at Orion.

              “Yes, we most certainly do.”

-----

              Orion and Ford sat on the couch, watching Angie pace in front of them.  Ford glanced at his son.  He would have expected Orion to be visibly morose over his behavior, but if anything, he was becoming more indignant the more he was scolded.

              He has too much of Stan’s personality in him.

              “I can’t believe my own child would do somethin’ like this!” Angie ranted.  “To throw a punch over nothin’?”

              “I come by it honestly, Ma,” Orion said, crossing his arms.  “Uncle Lute told me about how he got into fights in school when he defended you and Uncle Fidds.  And Uncle Dad, well, I don’t need to explain that.”

              “Whether ya come by it honestly or not, ya shouldn’t do it!”

              “Why not?” Orion demanded.  “I guarantee that bully won’t say a word ‘bout Apollo again.”

              “That’s not the point!”  Angie stopped her pacing.  “Hon, yer developin’ a concernin’ pattern.  The first fight ya got in, it was ‘cause ya really had no other option.  But with each fight ya get in, it takes less and less to provoke ya into physical violence.”

              “I have to agree with your mother,” Ford said.  “This isn’t the first time you’ve thrown a punch with little to no provocation.”

              “I still don’t see the problem here.”

              “The problem is that you are picking fights unnecessarily.  I don’t want you to be so determined to handle bullies that you become one yourself.”

              “This is insane!”  Orion jumped to his feet.  “I protected my brother and that means I’m turning into a bully?”

              “You shouldn’t hit people!” Angie snapped.  “I mean, honestly, that’s somethin’ toddlers understand!”

              “Angie…” Ford said softly.

              “I can’t believe this!  How- how did I raise someone who is so willin’ to throw punches left ‘n right?  Maybe allowin’ Stan to give ya boxin’ lessons was a bad idea.”

              “Let’s not go that far,” Ford said.  Angie looked at him.  Her eyes shone with unshed tears.  Ford’s heart ached.  Back when the twins were born, Angie had worried that her anger management issues might be passed down to the kids.

              And now, she feels that she was right to worry.

              “The boxing lessons are necessary, to help Orion release his pent-up frustration,” Ford said, standing up.  “Pulling him out would only cause more problems.”  Orion looked back and forth between his parents.  “Orion, the next time something like this happens, don’t act on your impulses.  Take a moment to think and consider the appropriate course of action.  Do you understand?”  Orion nodded.  “Good.  Go to your room so that we can discuss how you’ll be spending your out-of-school suspension.”

              “Is- is it gonna be bad?” Orion asked.

              “We ain’t decided yet,” Angie said.  “Go upstairs and wait.”  Orion nodded sulkily.  Once they had heard his footsteps sound on the staircase, Angie covered her face with her hands.  “Oh, Lord above, what just happened?”

              “We had to deal with a difficult and stubborn teenager.”

              “I know, but-”  Angie wiped tears away from her eyes.  “I prefer Iris refusin’ to be ‘round Stan to this!  I mean, this ain’t even the first time we got called to school ‘cause he got in a fight!”

              “Give him time to mellow out,” Ford said gently.  He put a hand on Angie’s shoulder.  “All we can do is be consistent with how we parent him and hope that, like with Iris, this behavior is just a phase.”  Angie sighed.

              “Yer right.”  She groaned.  “I’m dreadin’ what Apollo will do when he gets this age.  Orion is the most mild-mannered one of the bunch!”

              “I wouldn’t worry about Apollo,” Ford said.  Angie raised an eyebrow.  “I would worry about the quadruplets.  Four teenagers going through difficult phases at the same time.”  Angie sighed heavily.

              “Don’t remind me.”

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Grey Eyes

This is in response to a prompt I received:

camryn-bria I have a Linzin headcanon that there is a secret (airbending) child.  Could you write a one-shot of Tenzin finding out Lin is pregnant after breaking up with her.

I’ll probably put in a better summary, tags or notes later on. But hope you enjoy this 😊 

(So I had too much fun (maybe) with this and it ended up being a two-parter rather than a one-shot, hope this is okay)

Lin/Tenzin pre-canon fanfic | 1 of 2

 Legend of Korra

---

Despite what the public thought, Chief Toph Beifong was not a heartless person.

While truly a strong woman, it did not mean she did not have emotions. Family and friends played a huge role in occupying a space in her heart.

Family.

It was precisely because of family why she was pacing in front of the doctor’s examination room.

Toph closed her eyes in worry.

Of her two daughters, Lin was the one most like her.

Her youngest daughter, Suyin, at her current state, probably was who her own mother wanted her to be.

Initially scoffed at and at the brink of being of being disrespected, Toph Beifong later on was reputed to be one of the toughest police chiefs that the region has even had.

She had welcomed her daughter during her second year as a police chief of Republic City. The father, unfortunately, passed.

Lin’s father was Toph’s fellow detective. Toph had just given birth to her and was out of the force when Kanto responded to a call. He was hit and he died.

Since then, Toph promised herself that it would simply not do to miss time at work.

The first few months of raising Lin were particularly difficult. She had then elected to live near her married friends, Aang and Katara.

Toph took it hard – spent time away from Lin for the next months and sent her to Air Temple Island. She eventually got back to her senses, realizing her daughter needed her and had reached back to take care of Lin.

Lin always wanted to be like her mother and the father she barely met. Suyin, on the other hand, well, that was another story.

“Mom.”

Toph’s reverie was interrupted by the soft voice of her eldest child.

“Oh, Lin.”

In Lin’s hand was an ultrasound photo of a child, Lin took her mother’s hand and read out to her the notes on the photo.

Indeed, Lin was the child most like her mother.

 ---

What was he doing here? He has some nerve.

“Aunt Toph?

She tried to ignore the tall bald man in her office.

“Aunt Toph?”

Persistent little bugger, eh?

“That’s Chief Beifong to you.” She felt him squirm and fidget. “The citizens desk is on the other floor. Or have you gotten lost?”

“I, uh, no. I actually wanted to see Lin.”

“Captain Beifong, you mean.”

She felt him flinch. Good.

“I -.”

“Don’t you worry your bald head about it, Master Tenzin.” Aspersion dripping with every word. “Captain Beifong is away on suspension. She won’t be bothering you any time soon.”

“But – no! I didn’t come here to complain or file charges.” Toph could here the shock at Tenzin’s voice. “You didn’t have to – she didn’t need to be suspended!”

Chief Beifong ignored him. “Captain Beifong caused destruction to property – Air Temple Island’s reconstruction will be done soonest – and basically threatened you, a government official. She would have received worse.”

“But -.”

“Is there anything else, Councilman?”

“Uhm, no. I’ll just drop by Lin’s.”

“She not there,” Toph felt the airbender pause at her door. “She’s suspended until further notice; and she been sent away from Republic City.”

 ---

At least that was what the press was informed, to explain away the disappearance of a prominent person

But internally, with the higher ups in the Republic City Police Department, they knew differently. They were told that she was out undercover and they better not try to make contact – or there will be consequences.

Toph was proud of her daughter’s strategy. She had been an absentee mother in the past years. She wanted to make up for it by supporting Lin’s decisions.

Even if it meant no contact with her in the next months.

 ---

Lin found herself in a remote Earth Kingdom town which used to be a Fire Nation colony. She had come to this place years ago in a recon mission and had known that there were a good mix of nations, making it easy to blend in.

Her current mission was not anything dangerous – just another reconnaissance mission to look into whether there was some truth to the formation of a new organization similar to the New Ozai Society, who would seek to undermine the United Republic.

As someone fresh out of her 20s, Lin thought she was (or she should be) fit enough for the job at the local bar. Thankfully, she was able to convince the barkeep to hire her even after telling him of her predicament (she wondered if maybe the man really just needed help so badly). She also figured it was a good place to get in with the locals and, well, the local gossip.

Lin opted to keep her first name (common as it was anyway), rented a small apartment unit walking distance from the city center, and now, had landed a job  (that hopefully placed her in a good spot to fulfill her mission) which paid adequate wages.

She felt she was prepared to start anew – a new job, a new mission, and a baby on the way.

 ---

Tenzin huffed as he consulted his map.

He had gone to Gaoling, to the Beifong ancestral home (that was were Suyin was sent there before anyway. But Lin wasn’t there.

He even went out of his way and chanced a visit to Zaofu.

Su was surprised to see him and, no, she has not seen or talked to her sister in years.

Instead, the airbender got a slap for his efforts (“You idiot! You broke my sister’s heart!” “You weren’t even talking to her! You don’t know what’s with her.” “I knew enough to know that she loves you!”).

He tossed the map aside. He was stumped; he didn’t know where else to look for Lin.

He did not even notice his mother, watching from the doorway of his study, looking at him with concern.

 ---

“Hey, get away from him!”

“Eh! And what’re you gunn’ do ‘bout that lady?”

“I’ll show you!”

“What the -!”

“Scram!”

“Alright, we’re going – we’re going!”

The earthbender turned to the young man on the ground (maybe late teens or early twenties in age, she guessed) who was of Water Tribe ethnicity. “Hey kid, are you okay?”

“I’m fine – didn’t need your help.” The man grumbled, standing up and dusting himself.

“Right.” The woman stated, obviously not believing it as she had just walked across the scene of several benders pulling up by his collar, whether they were mugging him or not, she did not wait to find out before launching some rocks from the road at the thieves. “Of course, you didn’t need help. You had it all in control, didn’t you?” She deadpanned.

The man rolled his eyes. “A truth seer, aren’t you?”

She crossed her arms. “Maybe.”

“No – I don’t think so.” The water tribe man shook his head. “Thanks though.”

The earthbender extended to shake his hand.

“Lin.”

He clasped it with his own.

“Noatak.”

 ----

Months passed and Tenzin had not lost hope in finding Lin, but he had to admit that the hope was fast dwindling.

Twice Chief Beifong had said that Captain Beifong’s whereabouts were none of his business and that she will put his sorry ass in jail if he pried once more.

Neither Chief Beifong or anyone from his family shared any input to the media as to his relationship status. The disappearance of Lin Beifong and the sudden reconstruction of some of the pavilions at Air Temple Island made up much of the chatter and gossip though.

His cheerless disposition just about confirmed everything anyway.

 ---

Meanwhile, in the Earth Kingdom, Lin finally gathered enough courage to send out a letter to Tenzin. She had used a post office’s box from two towns away to ensure that he would not be led directly to her should he decide to respond.

After contemplating on the matter for the past months, and after finally admitting to herself, she decided to give Tenzin the option to be a father to their child.

It was the least she could do. She did not want her (their) child to grow up without a father if he was willing to be there. She knew, she grew up with, the alternative to that.

We may no longer be together, but it does not change the fact that this child is yours as well. I’m giving you this chance – to either declare this child as your own or to simply ignore and disregard this. I am fully capable of raising this child as my own so I am open to giving you an out.

Well then, so the proverbial ball was in the airbender’s court.

Gently, placing a hand on her now visible pregnant belly, Lin knew the waiting game has started.

 ---

In an ill-conceived attempt to raise his spirits, the Air Acolytes of Air Temple Island saw it fit to host a birthday celebration for him. His mother had given it a go signal as she was also at her wits’ end to help bolster his mood. Even the passing of her husband (his father) did not seem to have dragged him down this way.

What Katara did not know, however, was that the press had somewhat managed to get in with the festivities as well.

The papers for the next few days ran a feature on the last airbender’s birthday celebration. They also printed a picture of him with just about any single female he talked to during the party.

This was followed by a steady stream of letters and messages poured into Air Temple Island as well as into Tenzin’s office at city hall.

The first few letters, Tenzin had deigned to read.

But after the seventeenth letter, the airbender, with a furious blush on his skin, went to the kitchen where his mother was calmly instructing an acolyte for tonight’s dinner.

“Mother!”

Katara dismissed the acolyte before turning to her son. “What is it?” She held out her hand to take one of the letters that Tenzin was waving at her.

The waterbender briefly went through the letter. It appeared that –

“They have been sending me propositions!” Tenzin exasperatedly explained, showing the envelopes with addresses coming from different parts of the world. “Ever since the broadsheets and tabloids have been putting in these features about me being single.” He continued to pace in the kitchen while Katara went through the other letters. The content was fairly similar – a Fire Nation noble offering his daughter in marriage, an Air Acoylte from the Eastern Temple sharing her daughter’s knowledge of all things Air Nomad culture, an Earth Kingdom merchant living in the upper ring boasting of his niece… “I’m not interested in any of these, Mother. I just – I just -.” He took a deep breath. “I need to find Lin. It’s only been Lin.”

Katara could believe that.

“I know – Mother, if letters come to the island for me, please send it to my office. I’ll have my secretary handle them.”

And with that, Tenzin swept away, leaving Katara to only wonder and hope that whatever he thought of would truly help him out.

 ---

I see.

So he has made his choice.

Lin gripped tightly the letter she received in response to the one she had sent.

She tried but there was nothing she owed him now.

The earthbender then tossed the letter into her drawer, to be hidden from prying eyes, to try and forget its existence.

 Thank you for your interest but I already have a life partner.

I would like to request for your respect in this avenue and refrain from sending any more letters in this similar vein.

Respectfully yours,

Tenzin

 ---

Noatak knocked on the door one more time.

Lin was nearing her due date and the barkeep had place a notice for a reliever, a substitute while Lin was out.

The Water Tribe man took the opportunity – he had been juggling different jobs in town anyway so what’s one more?

Lin had been showing the ropes to him the past few days and was always ever so prompt so that they have enough time before opening.

This was why he stood at her front door now. The earthbender failed to show up at their regular time and so he worried.

“Lin? Are you there?”

There was no answer.

Something felt very wrong.

He looked to the left and looked to the right. No one was around and so putting his entire weight on it, he hit his shoulder against the door several times until it gave way.

“LIN!”

To his shock and horror, the pregnant lady slumped unconscious at her living room, blood surrounding her at the floor.

Noatak hurried to her, feeling her pulse and closing his eyes.

He had been hiding a secret for so long, no one knew in this new life he had been living. As far as they knew, he was a non-bender – no one had paused to ask, except this woman who had asked him and had graciously not pried further when he said he did not want to talk about his past. He knew she was trying to start a new life, but he wasn’t sure why. She respected him enough as well to leave him to his privacy.

That day when the muggers had almost done him in, he thought that would have been the end of it, revenge be damned. To his surprise, someone did intervene for him.

Enough reminiscing for now though, because now, this woman needed him.

Taking a deep breath, Noatak reached forward his arms, allowing him to feel the push and pull from the two lives in front of him, not in the way his father wanted him to but to save these lives.

 ---

Tenzin was absentmindedly tapping his pen on today’s agenda in the council meeting.

The monotony of his responsibilities to the city barely weighed on him now.

It was the same old routine at the council.

His interest was peaked when the doors opened and a man, who he recognized as Chief Beifong’s trusted secretary, hurried over to the Chief of Police’s side, whispering quickly.

Toph Beifong suddenly stood up, muttering her excuses to the rest of the attendees of the council meeting and left (something about an urgent matter regarding one of her subordinates’ mission?).

 ---

“Chief, it would appear that the Captain has now given birth to a daughter.”

“What! I need to get to her.”

“Unfortunately, protocols still state that no contact be made -.”

“But I’m her mother.”

“Please, Chief Beifong, Captain Beifong explicitly indicated that in her report as well. Everything is okay and not to let you go to her as it would impact her cover.”

Nonetheless, this did not stop Toph Beifong from instructing her secretary to send off a large box of baby things to a remote town in the Earth Kingdom.

 ---

The last airbender quickly made his way out of the restaurant where that farce of a stilted family dinner (that his mother insisted on) was still on-going.

It had been uncomfortable enough when Chief Beifong arrived, nary a word towards him but quite civil with his mother and their visitors. At some point during the meal, the Fire Lord started to pass around photographs of his teenaged grandson and even Chief Beifong was obliged to share photos of her own grandchildren.

Tenzin tried to ignore the longing gaze his mother had on the photographs.

He met the eyes of his brother, who coincidentally was stationed this week near Republic City, who in turn shrugged back at him.

Yeah, that’s not happening. Unless someone comes forward to speak up about the fruits of Bumi having sown his wild oats, their mother would need to wait a little longer to have her own grandchild.

“And who might this be?” His mother brought up a photo of a baby.

“Did Su have another child?” Fire Lord Zuko peered at the small plastic booklet that Toph had fished from her uniform’s pocket.

“Eh?” Toph reached out to get it back, fingers running through the little indentions at the edge, helping her identify the labels on the photos.

Tenzin did not miss the quick panic that showed on the metalbender’s face before it was back to her inscrutable expression.

“It’s an old photo of one of her boys.” She promptly placed the booklet of photos back into her pocket. “I must have taken it by accident.”

As the rest went about their meal, Tenzin could not help but revert to the photograph of the baby. The baby appeared to be a couple of months old and…there was something that was niggling the back of his head about the child.

Conversation went to work, the new policies in the United Forces, the statue of Fire Lord Zuko in Republic City… They were all pleasantries that Tenzin did not want to talk about.

As soon as it was acceptable, he had excused himself from dinner, citing an urgent deliverable from city hall. No one tried to stop him and everyone took it at face value. He had, after all, buried himself into work in the past months in between trying to look for Lin. The airbender simply did not believe anymore that she was merely suspended from the Force after being absent for more than a year now.

Tenzin thought that Suyin Beifong, by now, would have an idea as to her sister’s whereabouts. Recalling their last interaction, however, he rubbed his cheek gingerly in recollection, he felt he needed to soften her up first.

Coming from that awkward dinner conversation, he had an idea.

Her children!

 And that was how the airbender found himself at the nearest open store that catered to mothers that carried items (food, clothes, furniture, you name it) for their children.

Tenzin had a vague recollection on how old Su’s children were. He was unsure, though, as to what do kids at those age need or want. He figured that the store’s clerk would know and headed to the store’s counter, waiting until the clerk finished assisting two ladies in selecting the best bassinet that the store offers.

The airbender leaned on the glass counter, tapping absentmindedly as he was wont to do when waiting --- when he saw a brown box just behind the counter hidden from view of the common customer (it just so happened he was tall and nosy enough to see it). There was a small sticky note that caught his attention:

Monthly order of Chief Beifong.

Why on earth would Aunt Toph have a monthly order at this place when her own children have long since grown up?

Tenzin twisted his neck to peer at the label of the box, to check the address, thinking that maybe it was headed to Zaofu for Suyin and her kids.

To his confusion, it was to a place within the Earth Kingdom.

Tenzin froze.

What if…it was to another daughter and grandchild?

The photograph!

He now realized what bothered him – the baby in the photo was relatively fair-skinned and he was sure both of Su and Baatar’s children were tanned. Su was also not pregnant back when he last saw her so it could not have been a new Zaofu Beifong baby.

Toph Beifong would be hard-pressed to care about children or babies unless they were related to her.

This left Tenzin with only one plausible explanation.

 The airbender then left the store, hurriedly making plans to get to the Earth Kingdom by the next day.

 ----

And there she was – as radiant as the last time he saw her (never mind that it was in the middle of the unleashing of her powerful fury upon his childhood home).

With a pang, Tenzin saw Lin Beifong carrying a baby, accompanied by a tall (and very young, Tenzin thought unpleasantly) man who appeared to be of Water Tribe descent. The two were engrossed in conversation that they missed the airbender who had been staring after them.

Tenzin had arrived at the town square and was about to head to the address he had committed to memory when he saw Lin. He was about to approach her when the Water Tribe man intercepted her. The airbender noted the familiarity with which the two interacted (it felt like the air was being squeezed out of his lungs). The man offered to take what Tenzin assumed to be a baby bag and Lin had easily acquiesced.

He surreptitiously followed Lin, unsure where they were going but not wanting to take the risk of losing sight of the earthbender he had been searching for quite some time now.

As he watched every exchange of the two, Tenzin could not help but feel at a loss. He had tried to think of every possible scenario, of what he would say, what he would do once he found Lin.

But none of the scenarios he imagined prepared him for the reality.

He never did imagine finding Lin as a mother.

He never did imagine finding Lin with a partner.

And she looked – content.

Tenzin felt a pit form at the bottom of his stomach. Could he – should he – possibly ruin this with his appearance?

Call him selfish but…he’ll try just one last time. If there was an inkling, of the slightest chance of a future with Lin --- he’ll gamble it.

For himself. For Lin.

 ---

“Jinora, sweetheart, be a good girl for Noatak first, please? Mama needs to work for a bit.”

The eight-month-old child burrowed herself further into her mother’s arms but nodded nonetheless. “Good girl.” Lin gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead as the younger man hoisted the child, anchoring her to his hip.

Lin had gone back to work on a part-time basis, but more on the management side of the bar (accounting, menu planning, etc) rather than being actually behind the counter, serving the customers like before. The barkeep was pleased with Noatak’s performance during Lin’s maternity leave that he had decided to hire him full-time.

They would usually come to the bar before opening hours, Lin to check on the previous night’s accounting and Noatak with preparing with the rest of the crew.

Lin was scheduled to start with the local bookstore soon on her off-days from the bar.

Today, it was accounting morning at the bar. She would usually be able to have an hour or two of continuous work while the crew would take turns looking after her daughter if she were awake. If not, Jinora would be placed on her sling and Lin could still comfortably work.

Getting out several folders and her writing implements, Lin pulled out a chair near the window, preferring the natural light while working.

She managed to work for around ten minutes when a shadow fell on her work; before she could even raise her head to address who or what was blocking her light, she turned her head to the inner part of the bar as she heard her name being called.

“Liiiin!”

 ---

When he saw the Water Tribe man leave Lin with the child, Tenzin saw his chance.

He took some time to deliberate though; he observed her quietly, soaking in his view of the woman he had let go (and would be claiming back, if she would have him).

He took a bracing breath and entered the bar.

“Lin!”

Lin would look up at him. “Tenzin! What are you doing here?”

He would kneel – “I’m so sorry Lin, I know you have a child, I’ll love her like she were my own – I promise to treat you better than Mr Water Tribe there. Please Lin Beifong please – I regret letting you go, if you’ll have me, I’ll want to spend the rest of my life proving my devotion to you. Please- Lin please.”

Then Lin would get up, maybe give him a slap harder than what Su gave him then give him a hug before making him work for it.

Before he could even say a single word to put his imagined scenario into action, another voice (that he was starting to dislike) rang out.

“Liiiin!”

“Yes, Noatak?” Lin stood up quickly to address the young man, who was carrying a giggling baby at arm’s length. “What is it? How is Jinora?”

Tenzin felt his heart skip a beat, that Lin named her daughter one of the names he wanted for their daughter… well, he was not sure how he felt about it. Maybe he will explore it a little bit more when he was alone but for now…

“I know I helped bring her into this world –,”

Tenzin blinked at the sudden hurt he felt at his chest at this.

“But please, Lin – take your evil spawn away from me.” Noatak thrusted the still giggling child dramatically back at her mother, half kidding and half exasperated. “You know how much time it takes me each more to fix my hair. Then this little girl here,” He tickles her side and Jinora squeals with laughter. “Decides to blow a gust of air to my face – imagine that!”

The airbender heard this and froze.

“I know you said this brat (“My daughter isn’t a brat!”) is part-Water Tribe,” He gestured to his now unkempt hair. “But I don’t think this is a sign of respecting her culture?”

“My daughter is acting fine.”  Jinora kicked her chubby legs as though to prove a point, disturbing the dust on the floor. “And we did discuss this – no training until she’s older. I want her to have a normal childhood.”

“Ok then,” Noatak waved his hand and nodded, obviously agreeing. “Anyway, I’m in charge of family meal today so I better start prepping.” With one last tickle at the baby’s side, he left and headed to the kitchen.

Lin shook her head and called after him “I’ll pack up and get back to the books later!” It would seem her daughter was in a mood today.

Speaking of meals…

Jinora had been tugging at her chest. “Feeding time is it?”

 Tenzin watched Lin smile softly at the baby, a smile he saw rarely, a smile that he only saw between the dark of the night and daybreak, in between sleep and wakefulness as they laid in bed together.

He cleared his throat to remove a lump that was forming, a signal of impending tears.

Lin had forgotten about the newcomer as she angled the baby go position her for feeding when she heard someone clear their throat.

“I’m sorry, how can I help –,” Her eyes met familiar grey ones. “You.”

 ---

There was a lot to take in.

The Earth Kingdom.

Lin.

The Water Tribe man (Noatak, he spat.)

Lin.

The baby.

The airbending baby.

Jinora.

There was no doubt on whose child Lin was carrying.

Tenzin pushed forward at the surprised earthbender to take them (her and their daughter!) into his arms.

----

Note: This is part one of two --- ooor we could end it there? ����🏼‍♀️ Let me know!

(how do you tag people anyway?? @camryn-bria

---

2 of 2 here.

[jamaisvuandyou]

Yeah, totally, no problem! Sorry about thet! can I request who gets baby fever first and if they or the s/o initiates baby making procedures? For bts please :]] I love you work, thank you!!

Love you too, sorry it took so long!

--

Namjoon

Namjoon was prone to having bouts of baby fever, so it surprised you that you were the one saying you were ready to have a baby and he was the one sitting in shock.

“Are you sure? I mean, we’re still pretty young…”

“Not really, not truly. I’m approaching the age where things start getting more difficult with every year. And time still passes while I’m pregnant and while we wait to be ready for the next kid.” You frowned at your hands as you wrung your fingertips. You felt slightly out of breath, terrified of what he said and yet longing for him to agree.

He was quiet. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I was just surprised. You said you weren’t ready last time I asked.”

“That was two years ago!” I squeaked indignantly.

He laughed, hugging you. “There. Now you’re actually looking at me.”

Your face got hot, and you refused to look him in the eye.

He just chuckled and kissed your cheek. “When do we start?”

—

Jin

You were the first one to bring up kids.

He sat quietly thinking about it for a while, then paused his game. “You think we can raise a kid?”

“You don’t?” You asked, a little quieter.

“I mean…yes? But do you think we’re ready to?” He turned his chair to face you. “I mean, we always said we would have them at some point. You think now is a good time.”

“Do you think it’s not?” You asked, slightly frustrated.

“That’s not…I think we’re ready. I think it is a good time, or it will be when the baby would be born. That would be around the time when we took a break to work on the next album,” He said, looking at the calendar. “Okay. Let me finish this level and close the game.”

You smiled and kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

He smiled back, then went back to his game so that he could then be with you.

— Yoongi

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“That’s it?”

He nodded and shrugged again.

“You don’t want to talk about it or anything?” You probed.

He glanced up from his phone. “You’ve been looking at baby stuff on Pinterest while sitting next to me for two weeks now. And when shopping you always look at the kids stuff. It’s not like I was surprised.”

“Okay, but that’s me. Are you okay with having a kid?” You took his hand to keep his attention.

He nodded. “Aren’t the members just practice for being a parent?”

You snorted. “Not even a little, but it’s a cute sentiment.”

He shrugged and squeezed your hand lightly. “I learned a while ago that I can do anything if I have the support of the other members, and support from you. I’ll do my best to be a good father.”

You leaned in, letting go of his hand to wrap your arms around his neck. “I know you’ll be a great father. Maybe even a better parent than I am.”

He shook his head. “So, you want to go do that right now?”

“Would you mind?”

He turned off the TV, and took your hand again, leading you down the hall.

— Hoseok

It was something you both said at the same time, not in the same words, but still so in sync that you both laughed.

He wrapped his arms around you. “Then we’re in agreement. It’s good timing, we’re both willing. We’re going to be parents.”

You nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Not if we don’t get busy,” You teased, fiddling with a button on his shirt.

He chuckled, holding you a little tighter. “We have company coming over in a little bit. We’ll get to work after they’re gone.” He still kissed you as though you two were going to go right then.

You sighed poutily. “But….”

“I’ll give you a massage,” He offered, probably since he knew if you pouted long enough you’d blame him for inviting the guys and then bringing up wanting a baby.

You nodded. “Alright. Now, am I supposed to be cooking for said guests?”

His eyes widened. “Uh…yes?”

You frowned. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Uh…yes?”

“Your baby-making privileges are quickly dwindling,” You muttered, scowling slightly. “I don’t have anything I can cook for all seven of you.”

“We’ll order takeout,” He said quickly, pulling you back into his arms and kissing your cheek. “And we’ll make sure to order your favorite as well. Please don’t take away my baby-making privileges.”

— Jimin

You two didn’t really talk about it until after you had tried making a baby, then as you lay curled up together and your mind caught up. “Hang on, you really do want a kid?”

“Yeah? You do too…right?” He sounded apprehensive. Maybe slightly pouty.

“Yeah, but we maybe should have talked about it before trying for a kid?” You considered it for a while, wondering whether that was true or not.

“I mean, we both want a kid. You seemed pretty ready for it too?” Now he sounded nervous.

You nodded. “Yeah, I know, but if we’re going to be parents we should talk about serious things like…trying for a baby. There’s a lot to take consider.”

He was quiet for a moment, then wrapped his arms around you tightly, kissing your neck. “Is this your after-sex freakout?”

“Probably.”

“Okay. So, remember when we were at the company and you were talking with the stylist noonas and one of them had their son with them? Yeah, you were so natural with him that I wanted to start trying for a kid right then and there because I wanted to see you with my kid, because I know you’ll be amazing.” He nuzzled into your neck. “You’re the reason I feel ready to have a kid.”

You smiled, feeling all warm and fuzzy at his words, eventually breaking out of his hold so you could roll over and return to it, hugging him tightly. “I love you.”

— Taehyung

This guy never stopped having baby-fever. The moment he saw a kid, he would remind you how much he wanted one. You made him promise to wait exactly two years after your marriage before asking you to have kids—not because you didn’t want them, but because you wanted to enjoy your marriage as much as possible before adding a kid to the mix. You were going to suggest three years, but  you had mercy on him.

Which is why on your second anniversary, you weren’t surprised when he actually brought up wanting kids.

You laughed breathily. “You amaze me, Tae.”

“I do?” He grinned. “Does that mean we can try for kids?”

“It’s our anniversary, open the gift I got you,” You deflected.

He looked at you, already starting to despair.

“Open it,” You said more emphatically, pointing at the box.

He pouted and opened the box. He blinked down at the contents. “What is this?” He pulled out the photo, then blinked at the object below it. Slowly his eyes widened, and he looked at the photo again.

“Happy anniversary, I’m pregnant,” You told him, hugging his shoulders.

You’d never forget how big that grin got, nor how many kisses he tried to drown you in.

— Jungkook

Sometimes Jungkook was clueless. Not because he was stupid or anything, he just got so focused on things that he forgot to see the bigger picture.

I mean, you’d brought up having kids, and he hadn’t really seemed to understand what it was you were saying.

So you decided to make it so that it haunted his every day existence.

And since the producers of Run!BTS were always down for a little teasing and torture of the boys, they happily helped you.

Jungkook was surrounded by baby-related things, and he had to guess what they were to win a ridiculous prize—which meant he was working really hard to win it.

The other guys, completely in on what was going on, were also doing pretty well at making it seem like a real challenge.

And for the second segment, you brought in a baby for them to take care of as part of a challenge.

Jungkook was staring at you behind the camera, eyes huge.

You handed the baby directly to him, grateful that Jin was still loudly announcing the next challenge since it meant you could whisper, “I really want one of these.”

And you knew Jungkook heard you, because he nodded, carefully taking the child. “When we get home.”

[mumufic]

Some additional notes on characterization

For The Three Sisters, I’m trying to write a coming of age story with a lot of rather abnormal elements (hello, time travel and first Wizarding War!) and since I want to write the characters I have here growing into who we eventually come to know of them when they’re older, I guess you can expect:

Some of them start out rather ignorant. Sirius and Regulus (when he does appear for longer than a cameo, he’s a little shit, and not a particularly likable one) come to mind here, because of their family background. The thing is, despite the fact that Sirius is obviously progressive and inclusive, he wouldn’t really know how to frame a lot of things in ways that wouldn’t be offensive unless someone taught him how to. Kids learn by example, and the only example of words and reasoning he has are his parents and other relatives, and all of them are bigots. I’ve already covered his use of the word “mudblood” in my previous post. There’ll come times when he sounds a little like Malfoy: a little elitist, a little braggadocious, especially when it comes to his family’s privilege. And the thing is, in some ways, this is perfectly understandable too. The Black brothers in this story have had very little socialization with other children, and when they do, it’s also to other extremely privileged, magical kids. So expect some level of schooling (ok, a lot levels of schooling) for Sirius. I expect James would suffer from this as well, probably even worse than Sirius, in some respects. James has been brought up in a tolerant and loving home, but he’s an only child whose parents doted on him so much, he’s become a little arrogant. I want to be able to show them growing from their arrogance and ignorance organically, because I don’t think they come out of the box being the wonderful, loving people Harry knew in the books.

Some of them can be very mean-spirited. Petunia, Holly, James and Sirius all fall in this category. We already know about Petunia because of her actual characterization in canon, and I don’t want to do away with that. I’m writing a Petunia Evans redemption arc, yes, but I don’t want to do a personality transplant with her, so yes, she can have a mean streak, even once she’s shown to start becoming an actual likable person. Holly doesn’t have a mean streak - that isn’t how Harry Potter is characterized in the books, but when it comes to anyone associated with the Death Eaters, her hatred knows no bounds. Remember that as far as she’s concerned, Snape killed Dumbledore without remorse, Lucius Malfoy tried to curse her when she was in second year, and Bellatrix Lestrange killed her aunt and uncle, however much she disliked them, right in front of her. Her anger, the meanness, it comes from a pretty damn deep well of pain, no matter whether she chooses to dwell on it or not. On top of that, she’s still a Horcrux here, and that Horcrux? Actively corrupting her. James and Sirius played canonically mean-spirited pranks on people, that James only stopped doing when he started to mature right around seventh year, and there’s little indication that Sirius actually stopped being rather mean at all. All that dumping on Peter? Canon provides evidence. Just check Snape’s Worst Memory and The Prince’s Tale, not to mention how Sirius displays an astounding lack of remorse over the fifth year prank he played on Snape that nearly resulted in Snape’s death. And you know what, I like writing that. I don’t expect 11- and 12-year-old kids to be little angels. They’d be hella boring to write if they were. 

Some of them can be rather fickle. I’ve got upcoming chapters where Holly and Sirius are like this, Holly mostly pertaining to what she wants to do about the war, and Sirius about manners, decorum and respect. Let’s unpack this. Holly is a 17-year-old trapped in an 11-year-old’s body. Her last memory from her timeline is waiting to start her quest to hunt Horcruxes, a quest Dumbledore entrusted her, in order to end the war. She gets transported back in time, trapped in a much younger body, and treated by everyone as if she was in fact eleven, even by the people who know she’s older. Suddenly, it’s like she’s a little kid again, and people expect her to act like a kid. Nobody wants her to be all grown up, and all the company she keeps are young kids. Yes, she should know better than to engage in childish arguments and fights, but she’s so immersed in being a kid again that her maturity starts stagnating, and at times, even regressing, because she’s suddenly have to reason with kids, which means she constantly has to put herself in a kid’s mindset in order to understand where they’re coming from. Doing shit like that everyday, with no rest to be what you truly are? It’s a mindfuck. Before long, you start forgetting that you’re something else and not what you’re pretending to be. That’s what’s happening to her here. There are occasions when she’s forgotten that she’s older, she’s more mature. She starts acting like the children that she has in constant company. She’d feel bad about being petty in hindsight, but not while it’s going on. And I think that’s valid. As for Sirius, I’ve got some bits of exposition sprinkled in about how his upbringing was like besides the blood supremacy rhetoric, and believing that the Blacks are owed the world. Sirius learned manners, decorum and respect from Andromeda (it’s in Chapter 7: The End of Summer) and by all accounts, Andromeda was a rather strict teacher. So we can expect Sirius to be mostly formal, even a little stiff, have impeccable manners, and the perfect polite gentleman in normal conversation. So why does he try to high-five Remus when Remus fell over Holly? Well, he’s still eleven, and he’s seen James applaud bad behavior, and probably thinks it must be fine then because James thinks it’s fine. He’ll applaud it especially if he thinks it’s either retaliatory or mean to Slytherins, because he obviously hates them.

Some of them can’t seem to make up their minds as to whether they like someone. So this will crop up a lot in second year, primarily on Holly and Sirius, and to a certain extent, Remus. Holly basically thinks the boys are all gross. She’s 17, they’re 11. Kids are gross.  Remus is a kid with a crush, who responds to said crush in a pretty healthy way: he engages with them, talks to them more, looks out for them, but absolutely will not say anything or do anything about his crush. Why? Well, the easy answer is that he’s a werewolf, and Remus has been fed all his growing up years about how lycanthropy is contagious (Lyall Lupin was extremely prejudiced against werewolves, until his own son was bitten, so there’s every likelihood that Remus would have internalized a lot of his father’s rhetoric, especially after he was bitten, leading him to decide that he must not be allowed to procreate. As a child, that’s equivalent to not being allowed to even have crushes or have their crushes like them back.) Sirius is a bit strange to write. He doesn’t actually have a crush, but his parents have made a proposal on his behalf, one he hates. He doesn’t want it, but at the same time, it consumes him to find that the person his parents have intended for him doesn’t appear to want him, when they should! He’s the Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black! They should be privileged that the Blacks even want them for him. But at the same time, he’s utterly repulsed by the idea of having to marry someone, be with someone he might not even care for. Man, that’s hell of a lot of spoilers, but all of it’ll make sense when second year comes around.

And, I think that’s all the meta I can come up with for this fic for now. I’m sure I’ll be back, wanking on here again some time later to talk about other aspects of my fic.

My dilemma now: I feel like I had so much happen in second year that I’ve nothing to write bout in third year. So you know what you’re going to get for third year? Puberty.

Yes, that means zits and periods.

[demigodlunar]

Scars - Chapter 3

Wow, people have already read this sooo fast! Thanks so much, I appreciate it :D

_____________________________________________________________

Chapter 3 - Take Over With Grace

“Mr. Grace?”

Jason was jerked out of his fantasies of being a normal child- for about the millionth time- when he heard his last name being tossed out carelessly in the large crowd.

He shielded his eyes from the camera’s flash setting and the just the sight of the showy clothes of the countless paparazzi and media that were here for the interview.

“Mr. Grace, what do you have to say about the shares in the stock market for Olympic Inc. going down last week?”, one of the nameless news reporters asked, arousing another round of nods and agreement.

And once again, Jason sighed in relief that the question wasn’t directed towards him. He was Mr. Grace, yes.

But not to the public. To the public, Jason was just a secretary or student intern that happened to be at the interview. No one important. His father, Zeus Grace, was the one that was being bombarded by questions.

Jason could hear his father's loud and commanding voice over the racket of the others, answering the question with a calm, precise tone and reassuring words. He gulped, being reminded once again that this could- would- be him soon.

The annoying little voice in the back of his head whispered again, you’re almost 18. Almost time to take over the company.

Jason tried to keep the headache at bay. He hated the fact that soon, he wouldn’t be a normal 18-year-old boy without a care in the world. After he graduated from high school next year, Jason’s father wouldn’t even bother sending him to college. He would take over Olympic Inc. the moment he threw his square graduation cap in the air.

Jason could remember a distinct memory from when his parents were still talking to each other.

~~~~~~~~~~

8-year-old Jason Grace peeked out from behind the door to stare into the living room, where his parents were yelling at full volume, not even caring to lock the door or try to reduce their voices to not scare the children.

“He’s just 8 years old,” his mother, Beryl Grace, screamed, “A child! You can’t bring him into all your business and politics, I won’t allow it!”

“He’s my child, so I will decide whether I start teaching him how to take over the company when he’s older, and introduce him to the press.”, Zeus yelled back with just as much vigor.

“Your child! YOUR CHILD!” Beryl screeched, “He’s my child too! You already told the world about Thalia and now she can’t even leave the house without the media asking her if she’s going to take over the company!”

Jason winced at his mother’s voice, not even understanding what they were so upset about. If they could just talk it out, maybe they could come to an understanding.

“Thalia will not be taking over the company,” Zeus argued, taking on a defensive tone, “I vowed only my first-born son would be the head. Besides, Thalia wouldn’t want to take over. Once I tell the media that Jason will be the new CEO, they will get off her case.”

“And then what about Jason? Then they start stalking him? AT 8?” Beryl yelled, screaming a string of words that almost made Jason’s ears bleed afterward.

“Fine,” Zeus said, deadly calm, “Until Jason is legally an adult, we will keep him hidden from the public. I will still teach him what he needs to know, but he can be seen as a normal boy at least until then. Then, he will take over the company.”

Jason stood there, trying to figure out what “take over the company” and “new CEO” meant. Now, Jason was a smart boy, but this seemed to stump him. Would he become like Daddy? Working all the time and wearing those tight looking suits and ties?

Ew.

Jason didn’t want to do that, that seemed boring.

He turned his attention back to his parents in the living room, and they had calmed down excessively. He tuned into the conversation to hear what they were saying.

“... you take Thalia and I will take Jason,” Zeus said, holding his hand out to Beryl.

She stared at it for a couple of seconds before grabbing it and shaking it briskly, “Deal, but they have to be able to meet. They love each other, you know.”

Zeus sighed, “Of course, every Saturday and Sunday?”

Beryl nodded and she started walking to the door that Jason was hiding behind. Jason jumped back as she pushed it open and walked up to Thalia’s room.

The next hour was a blur and all he remembered was Thalia crying and yelling that she didn’t want to go, and that made Jason cry too. He didn’t like to see his sister cry, she was really good to him. After they both calmed down, Jason learned a new word.

Divorce. It rolled off his tongue but in a bad way. When your parents left and lived in different houses.

Well, Jason thought, At least I will get to see them still.

But living with his dad was something that Jason never got used to.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jason was startled out of the memory when a finger snapped under his nose three times in quick succession. He looked up bewildered at the snapper. Thalia grinned down at him and put her arm around him.

“Hey, little bro! Spacing out again I see.”

Jason rolled his eyes but smiled fondly, “You're only one year older. Besides, I was just thinking of when I have to take over the company.”

Thalia’s easy smile disappeared, and she frowned, “I still can’t believe that dad is giving you no choice at all. I mean, you're wasting your life on something that will never make you happy.”

Jason sighed, every time that this topic was brought up Thalia made the same argument. He tugged at his tie, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden.

“Just let it go, Thals.”

Thalia huffed but didn’t add any more fuel to the conversation. Then, she smiled widely. Jason almost tripped from the sudden change of attitude.

“I just remembered! I gotta go, little bro, Piper is having brunch at her place today,” she said while wiggling her eyebrows in a weird way.

Jason felt heat rush to his cheeks when his sister mentioned Piper Mclean. He could remember the first time he saw her.

It was in the hallway during their freshman year. He saw her stand up to Drew Tanaka when she was bullying some poor boy who looked at her wrong or something. When she yelled at Drew and embarrassed her in front of the whole hallway, Jason felt like he’d been shot.

If it wasn’t enough that Piper was a kind-hearted, brave person, she was also painfully beautiful. Even when she cut her hair, and wore baggy clothes, she was still extremely gorgeous. She also never noticed him.

It was safe to say that he had a very big crush on her.

“R-really?” he stammered, blushing, and wishing he never told Thalia about his crush in the first place because she found a reason to make fun of him for it all the time.

Thalia smirked and whipped out her phone and went to her messaging app, bringing up Piper’s contact.

Thalia wanted to introduce Jason to Piper to help him with his hopeless crush, but he’d voted against it. As painful as it was, he couldn’t be introduced as Thalia’s brother, because that would mean explaining their complicated family tree, including Percy (who Jason hasn’t heard from in years) and the fact that he would be a CEO of a famous company in a little over two years.

Jason brought his attention back to Thalia’s phone, where she was texting Piper. Their conversation was pretty casual.

(AN: Thalia, Piper)

Today - 11:34 AM

hey Pipes

hey Thals

wassup

nothing much, you?

i’m here with my brother at one of my dad’s interview things

Jason almost shrieked, but that wouldn’t be very manly of him. Instead, he shook Thalia’s shoulder forcefully.

“THALIA!” he winced as his voice squeaked.

“What?” Thalia frowned at him.

He stared at her, and sudden realization dawned on her as Piper’s reply came.

you have a brother?

“Oh shoot, oh shoot, oh shoot!” Thalia yelped, juggling her phone like it was on fire, “Oh my gods, what do I say? Should I say I was lying?”

“Yeah, because she’ll definitely believe it if you say ‘oh I was just kidding, sometimes I imagine I have a brother!’ She would think you’re crazy!” Jason deadpanned.

Thalia glared at him, and then she sighed resignedly, “Well, she knows now, and she’s one of my good friends, so I may as well just tell her the truth.”

Jason didn’t like that idea, but Thalia was already texting Piper again. He looked at the screen to see the conversation again.

yeah

EXCUSE ME, but how come you’ve never told me about him?

never came up

fine, you win, for now. show me a pic?

And in the next second, Thalia found a picture of Jason laughing at a joke that Hazel made, and sent it.

Jason made a mad grab for her phone, but it was too late. Oh no, he looked so dorky in that picture.

“Chill it bro, you look fine,” Thalia said, her eyes still on the screen.

Then, her face looked like she’d hit a gold mine, and she pushed the screen in front of Jason’s face.

oh, that cute boy you sit with at lunch sometimes? He’s really good looking.

Jason almost dropped the phone, and stood there rooted to the ground as Thalia cackled in the background.

Piper. Piper Mclean. Thought he, Jason Grace, was good looking?!?!? Jason felt like he might die.

Thalia wheezed as her laughing fits started subsiding, “Oh-oh my gods. Th-that was amazing!”

Then she typed a reply to Piper.

yes, he is, and he’s also here looking at our conversation.

Thalia erupted into another bout of laughter, and Jason waited for Piper to respond. But she didn’t.

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Jason’s watch beeped, and he remembered that he was supposed to be heading to Hazel and Nico’s apartment to hang out. He waved goodbye to Thalia (who was still laughing like a lunatic) and made his way back to the apartments where his cousins lived.

Gods, he needed to clear his head before he went brain dead, and spending time with family, other than his dad, helped with that.

My, oh my, this was gonna be an eventful year. _____________________________________________________________

Hehe, there's some Jiper for ya. Poor Jason, being stifled like that... I can relate :(

-Blossom ;)

[shaynawrites23]

Charming Date

Pairing: 1940s Bucky x reader

Prompt: “My mother warned me about guys like you.”

Word count: 1359 (I would have used the ‘keep reading’ function but I write on mobile soo...)

Written for @iliveiloveiwrite’s writing challenge!

Header is by the talented @peachesandpinks, go check out her blog! She writes for Harry Potter!

The smell of fresh bread grew stronger as you got dressed and ran a hairbrush through your hair, hissing softly every time you hit a group of knots. Once you were able to run your fingers through your hair freely, you pulled it into a neat back roll, slipping your favorite floral pin into it, the flower a single artificial lily.

It took you three tries before it was to your satisfaction, and you silently thanked God your mom didn't come to check what was taking you so long.

You twirled a couple of times in front of your mirror, watching the way your high-waisted, black skirt flared out before settling back around your legs. It matched perfectly with your cream colored blouse and black heels, and your red lips smiled back at you, your white teeth peeking out between them.

"(Y/N)! We're opening!" Your father's voice filled the hallway.

"Coming!" You called back, closing the door to your room and carefully making your way down the stairs.

Upon entering your family's in-house bakery, you were greeted by the strong smell of pastries and bread. Your mother spotted you standing in the doorway, handing you a muffin.

"Oh, you look wonderful, darling! That skirt fits you perfectly. This for anyone special?" She winked at you, one eyebrow raised at your halfhearted protests.

"Ma, stop. I don't have a boyfriend and you know that."

"Oh hush, honey. You'll have boys falling at your feet soon enough."

"Maybe too soon." Your father cut in. "You'll tell me if there are any boys I need to talk to, right?"

"Of course, dad." You groaned. "So, shall I get to work?"

They handed you two loaves of warm bread, reciting the addresses of the families to whom you were to deliver. You nodded, the little bell above the door tinkling as you left. The summer sun was just peeking out over the rooftops, enveloping Brooklyn in a warm light.

Your heels clicked against the pavement and you found your thoughts wandering in the peace and quiet of this Saturday morning. You were telling the truth when you said you didn't have a boyfriend, but that didn't mean there were no boys occupying your mind.

You rapped on the front door of the first address, pursing your lips as you waited. There was a boy, the only one capable of making you swoon with nothing more than a smile, but you had never told your parents about him.

The door creaked open, the elderly woman greeting you. You handed over the first loaf, exchanging pleasant small talk with her as you always did. Her bright blue eyes twinkled cheerfully as she gushed over your appearance. It reminded you of your grandmother, who did the exact same thing whenever you visited.

You politely declined when she invited you in, informing her of the deliveries you still needed to make. She let you go, but not before she got you to promise to visit some other time, muttering something about how, after her son moved away with his children, she had no company.

You readily gave your word, trotting back down the street as she closed the door.

Your second delivery went without a hitch, and as you made your way home, you found your thoughts wandering again. Your mind had seen him often enough to be able to conjure up a perfect image of him. His sharp jawline, brown hair that looked so soft, and a pair of the most beautiful blue eyes you had ever seen, eyes that could knock the breath out of you with one glance...

A whistled tune brought you out of your thoughts, and as you glanced around in surprise, you found the source of the sound.

Speak of the devil...

A man fell into step beside you, tossing you a glance out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey doll," he drawled. "Didn't expect to see you out this early."

"Hi Bucky. I could say the same for you, got something special planned today?"

He gave a quick shrug. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm still trying to decide whether I should go through with it. How about you?"

It was your turn to shrug now. "Just handling deliveries for my parents."

"Really? 'Cause I thought you might have a date today, what with looking so especially gorgeous today."

Your cheeks flushed at his compliment, opening your mouth to reply, but he continued.

"But then I was wondering what young man wouldn't pick you up for a date, and I thought I might have to give him a lecture on how to be a gentleman."

Bucky's voice sounded jesting enough, and it might've been your imagination, but you detected some sadness in it as well.

"Well, lucky for you, I don't have a date today, or anytime soon, in fact. I'd hate to see you getting into another fight."

He didn’t reply for several moments, the both of you revisiting the last fight he had. It was to save Steve from a guy he provoked, a guy who looked almost twice his weight. Bucky jumped in, throwing a couple of punches but, being equally matched, they both took hits. You found him together with Steve, a large bruise forming on his cheek and a split lip, blood coating his teeth. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t break at the sight.

“Aw, doll, no need to worry ‘bout me. I’m a strong man.” He jokingly flexed his biceps. “I’m touched, though. What did I do to get such a beautiful dame’s attention?”

“I don’t think I’m gonna tell you, Buck. For all I know you’re planning to woo another woman with that information.”

“Darlin’, you wound me!” He pressed a hand over his heart, pouting. “I promise you, I’m only after one dame.”

“Uh-huh.” You rolled your eyes, but you were unable to wipe the grin off your face. “A guy like you? Likely story.”

“It’s true.” His hand slipped into his coat, and your eyes couldn’t help but follow his movements curiously. “I already suspected you might need convincing.”

You? Need- what?

He drew a single red rose out of his pocket, offering it to you with one of his million-dollar smiles. How could you do anything but accept, when it came to him?

The stem, fresh and green, was smooth, as if someone had painstakingly removed the thorns by hand.

As if guessing your thoughts, Bucky remarked, “I removed the thorns for you. Can’t have you nicking your lovely fingers.”

“Oh, wow,” you breathed. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome. So, do you believe me now?”

You were nearing home, and you didn’t want the conversation to end. Especially not with your brother sick and your extra workload, leaving you with little time for your social life.

“Of course I do.” You smiled, meeting his gaze.

Bucky had a stunning smile. “Good. So, doll, does that mean you’ll go on a date with me?”

“Hmm. What would you plan for this date?”

“Well,” he shrugged, “I’d pick you up Friday night at six, take you out to dinner, and then we’d go dancing, and I could show off the dazzling beauty on my arm.”

You huffed out a laugh. “James Barnes, my mother warned me about guys like you. Charming their way into your heart.”

You paused, just as the two of you stopped in front of your parents’ bakery. His tongue darted out to nervously lick his lips as he waited for your answer.

“Yes, of course I’ll go on a date with you.”

Bucky’s smile could light up the world as he laughed in relief and happiness, scooping you up into a warm hug.

“You really know how to make a guy sweat, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” A burst of confidence hit you and you leaned up, standing on the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “See you Friday!”

You waved to him as you entered the bakery, giggling at his stunned expression, fingers brushing over the lipstick mark you left.

“(Y/N)! Who was that boy?”

“Mom!”

This was so much fun to write, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

[lunar-girl-fic]

Lost in the Dream~ Chapter 1

Warning: mentions of the astral planes and demons

Third Person POV

Word Count: 1574

A/N: This chapter will mostly be his parents POV.  In later chapters It’ll be in either the readers or Wonho’s POV. Also, it doesn’t get into too much detail because I want to include those details in later chapters.

It was a dark and cloudy night in Gunpo-si, South Korea. Young adults were going out to clubs, parents were relaxing after a hard day of work and kids were getting ready to go to bed. It was a relatively normal night for everyone except for one family, the Lee family. Instead of settling down for the night, they were preparing themselves for an unworldly battle.

Everyone was huddled in their living room. The lights were dim in an attempt to create a relaxing environment. However, everyone in that room was anything but relaxed. Tensions were high because no one knew what the outcome would be. 

Why was everyone so worried? You see, an individual in the room had developed an ability to enter the astral plane. No one thought it was anything to worry about until one month ago everything changed. Six year old Hoseok went to bed one night. When he fell asleep, he entered into the astral planes like he always did. Unfortunately, that night he opened doors that weren't meant to be open.

Ever since then his family noticed abnormal behavior from him and unexplainable events. At first they went to the doctor and when they told him about his odd behavior the doctor figured he had ADHD. He was given medicine but his behavior patterns didn't change and got even more bizarre. He played with dangerous objects, talked about the dead in a sickening manner, had sudden bouts of violence and developed inhumane strength.

His father knew that this wasn't something as simple as medicine could fix. He's seen it happen before with one of his cousins. This was something that needed to be fixed by an individual who was an expert in the paranormal.

His mother on the other hand really wanted to stick with the ADHD diagnosis. However, She knew deep inside her son had an ability to contact the dead but if anyone found out they would be outcasts. All she wanted for her son was to have a normal life and she knew in order to for that to happen they needed to get rid of the problem that was plaguing her son. On the outside she convinced the world that her son had a common mental illness but at home she was doing all she could to help her son get rid of the demon. She tried homemade remedies, sage and every cleansing method you could think of. She soon realized that nothing was working and that they needed an experts help. Since she was new to this type of situation she didn't know where to get help. 

Thankfully, help found her. One day she was in shopping for groceries and a woman approached her.

"You look troubled and I'm going to make it my personal mission to help you."

Wonho's mom was confused, who was this stranger? “Um, do I know you?"

"No, but I know you and I know about what's going on with your son."

Now she was scared. How did she find out? Is she going to rat them out?

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I was guided by your grandmothers spirit to find you and help you. She knows what's going on and she's been protecting him. But there's only so much she can do. That is why I'm here. I can help your son suppress the power the demon has over him. Only if you'll let me."

Mrs. Lee stood there wondering whether she should trust this stranger or not. She really didn't have any other option plus she knew about her mother. No one outside her family knew the power her grandmother possessed. She then decided to go with her gut feeling.

"What time would be good for you to come over?"

"Anytime is fine, even if it's the middle of the night."

She smiled "Saturday night at 10 then?"

"Saturday night it is"

"I'm sorry, I never got your name."

"Lorraine"

They exchanged contacts before they departed. Wonho's mom went home to tell her husband the news. At first he was skeptical but she reminded him that there was no other choice. 

Saturday came a lot quicker than expected. However during that time period Wonho's little bursts of violence got worse and sometimes he would speak in a voice that was way to deep for a child his age. 

Lorraine showed up at exactly ten with another individual. The Lee's let them in and seated them on the couch.

"Thank you for coming Lorraine. I honestly didn't think you would."

"Don't worry, I always keep my promises."

As she said that Wonho came out of his bedroom. He joined the group in the living room and stared at the guests. He gave Lorraine's companion a blank stare but when he made eye contact with Lorraine he gave her an angry look.

"Hoseok, sweetie, we have someone here who wants to meet you."

"Why is she here?" He replied harshly.

"I don't like that tone, you bet-"

Lorraine gently pulled Mrs. Lee aside, "Don't worry it's fine, I know it's not him talking. She feels threatened by my presence."

"She? Who is she?"

"The demon controlling your son. I felt her strong presence the moment I walked in. If we don't do anything now I'm afraid by tomorrow you'll lose your son forever."

They walked back out to the group. Wonho was seated in a single person chair and was playing with his stuffed bunny. Lorraine could sense the real Wonho was currently present and took advantage of the opportunity. 

"Hey, watcha got there?"

"My bunny"

"What's his name?"

"Wonho"

"That's such a lovely name. How did you come up with that?"

"My nana called him that. She said it means protector and if I feel scared to hold him so he could protect me."

"Interesting... Why do you think she would give him that name?"

"I'm not sure but she said one day I'll take on that role and I won't need the bunny to protect me anymore."

Lorraine then realized that part of his great grandmothers spirit must've been in that stuffed animal. That's probably why he was so calm now. She then decided it was time to begin the ritual.

"Hoseok, I know that one day you'll be the protector as well. However I believe that there is something inside of you that is preventing you from taking on that role. I'm here to rid you of it but I can only do that with your help."

Wonho looked uneasy but complied. She gently grabbed his hand and led him to the chair that was in front of the metronome. His parents were seated on the couch next to it and Lorraine sat in front of him.

"Can I still hold my bunny?"

"Of course dear. Now, close your eyes and listen to the sound of my voice. I want you to take deep breaths." Wonho did as she said.

"Drown out everything until the only thing you here is the sound of the metronome. Relax your body and imagine yourself entering the astral plane."

It took a few minutes but when Loraine realized Wonho was in the astral plane, she got up and put her fingers on his temples. This way she was able to guide him.

Wonho's parents watched on anxiously. They had no idea what the outcome was going to be. It pained them to watch their son crying out for help and they couldn't do anything to help him. This went on for about 30 more minutes and finally Wonho woke back up. He got up and ran to his mother for comfort. They looked at Lorraine with hope and she smiled.

"We were able to contain the demon. He should be back to normal now."

"Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

"Wi-will this ever happen again?"

"The thing is, is that we will never know. I would advise for him to stay out of stressful situations because the demon will most likely use his moment of weakness to take over again. If that were to happen we'll probably lose him forever." Wonho's mom began to worry again. Lorraine noticed and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. I know he's strong enough to prevent it from happening again. Plus he's got two great supporting parents and his great grandmother so he's in good hands."

With that Lorraine packed up and got ready to leave. Before she left she turned to a tear stained Wonho and knelt to be on his level.

"Now remember what I told you. We don't want to have another experience like this again now do we?"

Wonho shook his head " Nooo, ma'am"

Lorraine smiled. "Good." She got up and said goodbye to them one last time and left. Wonho's mother closed the door and picked up her son.

"Hoseokie what did she tell you?"

"She said not to go wandering in the astral planes anymore and if I feel myself doing it to call on nana to help me get out."

She smiled because she knew her son was in good hands. "Off to bed now."

"Ne Eomma"

For the first time in a while they finally had a goodnights rest. Their son can finally have a normal life. The demon that was torturing their son was contained and would never have another opportunity to hurt him. Or so they thought...

If you guys would like to buy me some ko-fi please click the link below I would be eternally grateful!

ko-fi.com/lunargirl

Discalimer: I do not own any of the photo’s used. I got them from google.

Additional A/N: I’m not an expert in the paranormal. Growing up, a lot of the movies and documentaries I watched were in the paranormal genre so I like to think I have a good chunk of knowledge. However, I am open to learning more so I can make this story a little more accurate. If anyone has any input they’ll like to tell me feel free to send a message. I don’t bite  I promise :)

[jojparasol]

baby love

Ehhh, this one’s iffy but I posted it anyway so enjoy! This was inspired by an episode of ‘this is us’ and I couldn’t help but write about it. Was wondering if i should put my writing under ‘read more’ cut, I got an ask about it from my first writing but I never got to it? Anyway, this is a lil rough but she’s alright.

the one where Y/N’s pregnant and it’s Harry’s birthday

Word count: 1.5k

fluff, fluff, fluff

Y/N’s pregnant. Heavily pregnant.

Five, six months — she doesn’t even know, forgetting how long this baby has been growing inside of her. All she knows is that the baby is growing and it’s growing quickly. It meant she couldn’t fit inside her clothes she usually wore, her head has been hurting like crazy and her emotions were scattered all over the place.

And she’s been sleeping a lot. It was her pregnancy brain and the fact that sleeping would be an excuse for her to not do anything that would require any physical activity. Although Harry would protest at times, he learnt to leave her alone to doze off and he would spend his mornings talking to Y/N’s stomach.

“Baby…” Harry whispered against her neck as she groaned, her hand covering her face.

It was safe to say that Y/N was not in the mood today. All she wanted to do was sleep and stay in the comfy duvets of their bed. But it seemed like Harry had other plans and she wasn’t amused.

“Harry, no.”

Harry pouted, his pride a little down so he decided to go to the next option. The baby.

Harry loves his baby. His baby. He couldn't believe that he can even say that he’s a father. He’s in absolute awe at the fact that the love of his life can give him a baby. And he knows the baby girl in his love’s stomach is already perfect, being the perfect mixture of Y/N and him. Oh, his baby love had all of Harry’s heart and seeing Y/N grow everyday made his heart warm. He never minded waking up in the middle of the night to help his wife go to the loo or dealing with her mood swings where she would be bawling her eyes out then laughing in seconds.

“Think your mummy’s a lil’ grumpy this mornin’,” he mumbled his body shifted so his face met her stomach although it was facing the other way.

It was then that Harry heard a groan from above. “Harry, I swear to god, If you don’t leave me alone to sleep, I’ll make sure you aren’t getting anymore children out of me.” Harry frowned, his body getting out of bed as Y/N adjusted her blanket, snuggling it up against her face.

It was almost two in the afternoon. She’s usually awake at this time, even if she was feeling her laziest. It was his phone ringing that made him walk out of his room, leaving his sleeping wife in deep slumbers.

“Happy birthday my baby!” Harry smiled, hearing the sound of his mother’s voice through the phone.

“Thank you,” he replied, taking a seat on the couch. It was his birthday and he received messages and phone calls from all his loved ones. But he was still waiting for his own love and it didn’t seem like it was coming soon, or anytime at all.

“So are you coming over soon?”

It was a tradition to do so. Both Harry and Y/N felt equally at home at his mother’s house and there was no arguing that spending special occasions over there was a must. It was a place that Anne raised her children, where all their memories were stored and soon enough, Harry’s child will be able to create her own childhood where Harry grew up. And Anne would make the best dinners and their small family would spend all day hanging out whether it would be a barbecue or the dusting board games that were taken out when everyone was over.

“Yeah, but the missus won’t be joining.” A small gasp was heard on the other side and presumably, Anne thought the worst.

“Did you two fight? Harry you know she’s heavily pregnant, have you—“

“No. She jus’ wants to sleep, she didn’t remember my birthday.” It hurt Harry more than expected when it was said aloud that his lovie forgot his own birthday. Sure she was pregnant and all but was he that unimportant that she forgot?

“Oh, Harry,” Anne cooed, realising that her son was hurt about this event. “She’s pregnant, when I was pregnant, I would forget everything. Don’t feel bad, honey.”

Harry pursed his lips, trying to think the best of the situation but it was hard since the most important person he wanted to hear ‘happy birthday’ from gave him an unkind threat instead. But his mother’s words were enough for him to leave the house and drive over to where his sister and mum waited to surprise the birthday boy. And he smiled, he smiled as they placed a ‘birthday boy’ hat on him and he smiled when they gave him their gifts and when he won monopoly. He felt like home but there was still something missing.

Y/N woke up alone and her head was aching. She stared down at her stomach, giving it a small caress before stretching her arm to obtain the phone that laid on her nightstand. Her eyebrows furrowed at all the notifications from twitter and the fact that the time was five in the afternoon. And her heart dropped. It felt like it dropped down to the baby inside of her because her husband was trending on twitter. Trending with everyone greeting him happy birthday. Shit.

Y/N slowly got up as best as she could, mumbling profanities under her breath. “Baby, mummy messed up,” she whispered to her stomach, panicking at what to do since, to be honest, she had nothing planned. What a shitty wife, she thought, her eyes pricking with tears as her helpless body plopped onto the couch.

“It’s okay, we’ll be okay,” she tried reassuring herself in attempt to make her less stressed as she got up and waddled towards the kitchen. She was gonna make a cake. She knew the basics and it was the best thing she could do right now. She had learnt how to bake a cake from Harry early on their relationship when he claimed to be a baker but got the piss when he barely knew, considering the fact that he was a cashier. Then, she baked a small cake on the day that her pregnancy was announced to him where they ate in bed after the news. She told herself and their baby love that she was gonna survive this messy dilemma she put herself in and bake the best cake she can.

It was the front door opening that distracted her from frosting the cake, her head immediately turning to see her husband walking in, a small smile on his face and she couldn’t help but melt a little.

“Oh, Harry,” she announced, walking over to her husband’s welcoming arms as he engulfed her into a hug. “I’m so sorry baby. God, I’m so stupid.”

Her mood got the best of her as tears eventually returned as Harry massaged circles on her back, trying to comfort his pregnant wife. Y/N’s face nuzzled into his, a space between their bodies because of her bump but they somehow managed and Harry pulled away, frowning at his love’s sadden expression.

“It’s okay lovie.” He wiped away her tears with his thumb as she shook her head.

“No, it’s your birthday. Can’t believe I forgot and… and I was so mean to you today.” And to say her crying couldn’t get worse — it did. The realisation that she was so mean made her fall into more tears and they seemed uncontrollable.

“Shh, baby,” Harry soothed, caressing her hair as she tried to calm herself. She always tried doing that with Harry being there to hold her hand and guide her breathing. Her hands tried wiping her tears as she started rambling on about how sorry she is.

“Don’t you worry 'bout it. I love you so much, ’s okay.” He kissed her face repeatedly until a small giggle released from her mouth. “There it is, missed that gorgeous smile.” Y/N looked up, her eyes clearing up as she watched Harry move his kisses to her hands. “Now, ’s that cake I smell?”

She nodded, a hopeful smile on her face before leading her husband towards the kitchen, presenting her half frosted cake. “Isn’t this sweet, huh baby love?” He talked to her bump, palming her stomach as Y/N watched Harry use his finger to take a lick from the frosting.

“I’m sorry for today, happy birthday. We love you so much.”

Harry smiled at his wife, placing a small kiss to her head. “Thank you baby. Let’s take this cake back to mum’s house? Dinner should be ready.” He took another lick of frosting, placing it in between his lips.

“God, your mum!” She shrieked, realising she forgot the tradition before Harry shushed her, reassuring her it was okay. Y/N nodded as Harry scooped another piece of frosting and smothered it on Y/N’s nose to which she giggled.

“I love my two girls more than anything,” he proclaimed, looking down at her bump where a small kick was felt between the parents.

“Looks like she loves you too."

[izzielizzie]

Hi. Could you write a one shot where Nate and Bronwyn are childhood besties. And do everything together like tissue masks on a Friday or something? And they secretly like eachother?

Hi! Yes! This is very long and not my best work so I apologize, but enjoy! Also there are some notes at the end (because I obviously need to make this longer than it already is)

Thirteen Years Ago (age three):

Anna Rojas did not expect anything extraordinary to happen when she took her oldest daughter, named Bronwyn, to daycare for three hours. All she wanted was a break from the overly curious toddler, who had been pulling her younger sister Maeve’s auburn curls to see if they would fall out. Needless to say, neither Anna nor Maeve were very impressed. 

Bronwyn, who had been surprisingly calm as her grey eyes surveyed the room filled with loud children and multicoloured toys. Finally, her eyes stopped at a small bookshelf, and her face lit up. “Mama! Down!”

Anna obliged, and she watched as the small girl walked towards the books. The daycare runner stepped up next to Anna. “She’ll be in good hands Annalise.” Anna turned to look at the woman next to her, who had the same vivacious red hair and clear grey eyes as she did.

“Don’t call me that, sis”

Annalise’s sister, named Eabha, just grinned and gently pushed her towards the door. “Have a good three hours! I’ll make sure your oldest is in one piece and ready to pull hair when you’re back!”

Yes, Anna did not expect anything extraordinary at all.

Ellen Macauley didn’t think that three year olds needed to listen to their parents arguing, which was why she felt it was a good idea to send her son Nathaniel to a local daycare. The daycare itself was a child haven, but her anxiety was piling on. What if something happened? Knowing that if she stayed for too long she would take Nathaniel back home, causing even more anger from her husband, Ellen left as fast as she could. Through the haze of tears that disgusted her, Ellen couldn’t see where she was going, and she walked straight into a woman with bright red hair who was dressed fashionably in a cashmere sweater and black leggings. Everything about her screamed money, Ellen thought.

“Sorry,” Ellen mumbled, stepping back and nearly stumbling. The woman clamped an arm around her forearm. 

“Don’t worry about it,” the woman pulled her up and looked at her closely. “Are you crying honey?”

Ellen didn’t know why this woman cared, but her expression was so motherly that Ellen found herself talking about how she was afraid that her arguing with her husband would hurt her son and that she was always so anxious and tired and she wanted to make sure her baby was okay. 

The woman, who introduced herself as Anna Rojas, gently guided Ellen to the front window of the daycare. “Which one is yours?”

Ellen didn’t look through the window, but recited his looks: black hair, dark blue eyes, wearing a green shirt and black jeans. Anna gently squeezed Ellen’s arm and pointed through the window. 

“Is that one Nathaniel?”

Ellen looked through the window and saw a red haired woman who looked remarkably like Anna sitting with a book in her hands. One side of her was a girl with dark curls. She had a bright, curious expression on her face and she was looking at the picture book intently. Sitting next to her, with his hand clasped tightly in hers, was Nathaniel. He looked happy. Ellen released a small laugh. “Yes it is. He looks so happy.”

“He’s with my little sister and daughter. He’s in good hands I swear.” Anna paused and looked at the woman standing next to her. “Care to get a coffee with me?”

“Sure,” said Ellen.

Three hours later the two women were good friends. They expected to maybe see one another a couple times around the city. But they didn’t expect their children to become inseparable.

Five Years Ago (age eleven):

Nathaniel was used to screaming. His parents argued so frequently that he couldn’t remember the last time it was quiet. He just stuffed his head under a pillow and tried to zone out. He was surprised however, when the arguing stopped. He could hear his father screaming “Come back!” over and over again, a door slammed, and everything was silent. Fearing the worst, Nathaniel climbed out of bed and crept into the living room. His father was standing in the middle of the room, staring at nothing. He turned when he heard his son. 

“She’s gone. I need to get out of here.”

Nathaniel was suddenly terrified. He had no idea where his father was going, his mother was gone, and on top of it all, a thunderstorm was in that night’s forecast. The thunder terrified him, especially at night. 

“Dad, where are you going?”

“For a drive. I’ll be back soon.” He became suddenly very serious. He grabbed Nate by the shoulders and shook him hard. “You don’t leave this house do you understand? And don’t let your mother in. If she comes back I’ll… I’ll…”

Nate could imagine a couple of things that his father would do. His father shook him again. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“Yes,” mumbled Nathaniel. 

With that, he was gone, just as a clap of thunder shook their rundown house. Nathaniel jumped. He knew what was going to happen: his mother would come back the next day, argue with his father, and leave for good. His father would drive and drive until he found a bar with enough beer to tide him over, and he’d show up tomorrow afternoon drunk and tired and ready to argue with anyone and everyone. 

He needed someone who would stay with him tonight, he decided as the thunder became more frequent. Without thinking whether he should or not, he picked up the ancient phone on the coffee table and dialed the one number he knew by heart.

Bronwyn arrived, soaked from head to toe. Her aunt, who she had been living with for the past few months as her younger sister underwent chemotherapy for her Leukemia, honked her car’s horn once to alert them that she was pulling out of the driveway. Seeing Bronwyn’s bespectacled face calmed Nathaniel. He and Bronwyn were both in agreement that the best day of their lives was the day they met. When Bronwyn was panicking over school or her sister’s health, she turned to Nathaniel. And when Nathaniel’s home life became terrifying, he stayed with Bronwyn.

 “Nathaniel, I’m so sorry,” Bronwyn stood on her toes to give him a big hug, which he returned, despite getting the front of his shirt soaked. Nathaniel closed his eyes. He felt better whenever he was around his best friend.

He pulled away. “Yeah, well, not much I can do. But we should get you some dry clothes.”

Nathaniel led Bronwyn to his room, where he pulled a sweatshirt and sweatpants out of his drawers and handed them to Bronwyn. She walked to the bathroom, and while he waited for her, Nathaniel lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was strange really, how three hours ago he came back from soccer practice feeling hopeful. He had scored three goals in a row, a personal best. Never had he imagined that this would be the day his whole life changed. Nathaniel didn’t move until Bronwyn came back and curled up on the bed next to him. 

“Nathaniel? What are you thinking?” Bronwyn asked him this a lot, especially when he put up walls and ignored everyone.

“I need a new name. Like, I don’t know, Tim.”

Bronwyn scoffed and rested her head on his shoulder. Even in his clothes she managed to smell like green apples. “Tim sucks, you need something better.”

Nathaniel appreciated that Bronwyn didn’t question why he wanted a new name. She knew why. She knew that Nathaniel carried too many connotations. She knew that Nathaniel was the result of a dysfunctional family. She knew that names carried power. 

“You’re right. What about Dante?”

“You wanna be named after an Italian poet?”

“I have no idea how you know that, but no, I don’t.”

“He wrote about hell or something. I read about it in a book the other day.”

“You read a lot. What about Niel?”

“That’s worse than Dante.” Bronwyn snuggled closer to Nathaniel. She was silent for a long time, and Nathaniel thought she had fallen asleep when she suddenly sat up, nearly knocking her glasses off. “I’ve got it! Nate!”

“Nate?” Nathaniel sat up too.

“What, do you not like it?”

“No, no, I love it. Bron… it’s perfect.” You’re perfect was what he nearly said. Embarrassed at himself, but also overjoyed at the new names that somehow fit him, Nate lay back down and stared at the ceiling again. Bronwyn, who was used to Nate’s bouts of silence, simply took off her glasses, put her head back on his shoulder, and drifted off to sleep. Nate stayed up longer, turning his new name over and over in his head. After a few minutes, the word Nate lost all its meaning and he turned instead to Bronwyn, who was snuggled up against him. He watched her for a moment as his chest grew warmer, a strange new feeling overtaking him. It would be nearly three years before he figured out what the feeling was.

It was love. 

Present Day (age sixteen):

Friday nights always came as a relief to Bronwyn, who could take a break from her stressful life and just relax with her best friend. Although, since most of her stress was caused by her best friend, tonight would not be relaxing. Bronwyn wasn’t quite sure when she crossed the line from friendship to love with Nate Macauley, but she had some guesses. Maybe it was the night she lay in his arms and helped him come up with his new name as his old life came crashing down around him. Perhaps it was the day he came running into her little sister’s hospital room, barefoot and still in his pajamas, just to be with her when the doctors were sure that morning would be Maeve's last. Or maybe it was when he too cried tears of joy when Maeve pulled through. It was the first time she ever saw him cry. Or maybe it was the night he stood out in the rain with Bronwyn so they could wait at the bookstore to get the final book in her favorite series. Or maybe it was when he punched Evan Neiman in the nose when he wouldn’t leave Bronwyn alone. 

Or maybe, Bronwyn Rojas had always been in love with Nate Macauley.   

Love, unrequited or not, was always better dealt with on spa nights, as Bronwyn’s other best friend Addy had said that morning. Which was how movie night turned into spa night. Bronwyn was surprised Nate agreed with the change. Now, as he rang the doorbell, Bronwyn wasn’t sure she wanted to spend any time with Nate, lest she say or do something stupid. She couldn’t afford to lose this friendship. Before she could pretend to be sick so she could back out of what was certainly going to be an awkward night, Nate was bounding up the steps and barging into her room. 

“‘Sup Bronwyn.” Nate collapsed onto Bronwyn’s bed. He looked really nice in black jeans, a black leather jacket, and a deep blue shirt that brought out the colour of his eyes. 

“Not much.” Bronwyn turned in her desk chair and stretched out her feet so they were resting on the bed beside Nate.

“Nice. So, spa night? Why?”

Bronwyn shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. “Felt like changing it up. Also, it was your turn to pick a movie and you were just going to pick Ringu weren’t you?”

Nate shrugged. “Do not ask and I shall not lie.”

“That’s not a real saying.”

“Whatever Bronwyn, let’s just get this over with so we can eat a bunch of your mom’s brownies.”

An hour later, Nate and Bronwyn were lounging on the couch, charcoal sheet masks on their faces and a plate of brownies between them. Nate looked away from the TV, which was tuned to a kids show the pair used to like.

“God Bron, what does your mom put in these?”

“Coffee,” said Bronwyn as she took another brownie from the plate. 

“I wouldn’t mind some coffee.”

“Nate, it’s nearly nine. No one drinks coffee this late.”

“Ah, but Bronwyn, you are mistaken. I drank coffee at one last night.”

“This morning.”

“What?”

“One in the morning Nate.”

“Yeah, yeah okay. Anyway, the spring dance is coming up.”

“Yes it is. Are you taking Amber?”

Amber and Nate had been a couple since freshman year, and it definitely didn’t bother Bronwyn at all.

Nate gave Bronwyn a weird look. “Um no, we broke up.”

Bronwyn sat up and nearly knocked the plate to the ground with her foot. Nate lunged for it and caught it just in time. “The brownies are safe!” He declared before popping another one into his mouth. Bronwyn took the plate from him.

“First of all, no more, you’re gonna get a stomach ache. Second of all, why did you break up with her?” 

“No Bron, you have it wrong. She broke up with me,” Nate paused and looked at his hands. “She thought I was in love with someone else.”

Bronwyn paused. She was about to stand up to put the brownies in the kitchen, but she seemed rooted to her spot. Not another one, she thought.

“Well, are you?”

“Am I what?”

“In love with someone else?”

“Oh. I mean, yeah.”

“Who?”

Nate gave Bronwyn a pitying look. “You sweet naive girl,” he said. He took the plate from her hands and leaned forward until he pressed a small kiss to her lips. He pulled back and grinned at her. 

Bronwyn’s head was spinning (the fact that she wasn’t wearing her glasses wasn’t helping anything), and she wasn’t quite sure why Nate had kissed her when he was in love with someone else.

“Wait, but, who is it?”

Nate closed his eyes and sighed. It seemed like he was praying for patience. “You obviously, you idiot. I’ve been in love with you since we were eleven, although I didn’t realize it then. I mean, who else would I do this with?” He waved at his face, which still had the mask on it. 

“I, but, Amber?”

“Amber was just an, I dunno, an attempt to move on. You obviously don’t care for me that way, so…” He trailed off and stood up. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want to mess up this friendship. I should,  I should go.”

Bronwyn was stricken dumb for only a second. Nate was heading towards the door. Bronwyn jumped off the couch and raced after him. “Wait!”

He turned around, looking hopeful, and Bronwyn stood on her toes and put her hands on his shoulders. “Nate?”

“Yes?”

“You still have a mask on your face.”

“And?”

“You should probably take it off before I kiss you.”

Nate grinned slowly. “Hey,I kissed you and you have one on too, Rojas.”

Bronwyn just laughed. 

“I love you Nate Macauley.”

“I love you too Bronwyn.” He put an arm around her and led her to the bathroom. “Now can we please take these things off now?”

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

Okay, so notes time!

1) I had not intended to make one section from their moms’ points of view, but it kind of happened and I kind of like it

2) I have no idea what Mrs. Rojas name is, so I made it up. I also don’t know what her sister’s name is, so I made that up too. (Technically they’re not made up, they’re the names of my sisters)

3) I know that Maeve doesn’t have auburn hair, or curls, but I like to think that her hair darkened and straightened out as she got older (am I pulling from my own El Salvadorian/Irish heritage because there’s absolutely no cannon stuff written about their childhood? Yes)

Okay, I hope you liked it!

[thelastspeecher]

Eggs and Pollywogs

This is the final ficlet I’ll be posting for my Nixie AU.  Not because I won’t write anything else for it or anything like that, but because I’m going to be focusing my writing attention for the Nixie AU into making a multichap!  I’m hoping to finish a couple of my WIPs before I start posting the Nixie AU multichap (which I’m titling “Amphibious Tendencies”), so it might be a little while.  But I’m excited to clean up and expand my lil ficlets and make it into a multichap.

But I was already working on this ficlet, and since the last one ended on a bit of a cliffhanger, I finished this up so that y’all could have some Quality Egg Content.  Enjoy.

—————————————————————————————— 

              Water splashed Stan’s face.  He sat up, spluttering.

              “Good.  Yer with us,” Fiddleford said flatly.  Stan wiped the water out of his eyes.  “Yer lil faintin’ spell made Angie cry.”

              “Fidds, that’s a lie!” Angie protested.

              “You cried.”

              “I have a lot of emotions right now,” Angie argued.  Stan got to his feet.  Angie reached for his hand.  She brushed her thumb across his fingers.  “You all right, darlin’?”

              “Yeah, I think- I think I am.”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  He swallowed.  “So, uh, the egg in the jar, it’s-”

              “Your offspring, yes,” Ford said.  At some point while Stan was passed out, Ford had obtained the jar and was looking intently at the egg floating within it. “Hmm.  I wonder if all nixie eggs are this cherry blossom color.”

              “Cherry blossom?  Ford, it’s fucking pink,” Stan said.

              “I was specifying the shade of pink.”

              “Whatever.”  Stan turned his attention back to Angie.  “Did you- did you lay it or something?”  Angie nodded. “That had to have sucked.”  Angie laughed softly.

              “It most certainly did.  I wouldn’t have disappeared fer so long fer no reason.”

              “I suspect that it should hatch in a handful of months,” Ford interjected.  “Shorter than the regular human gestation of nine months, but longer than the regular frog gestation of a month or two at most.”  Angie rolled her eyes.

              “I know how long it takes frog eggs to hatch, Stanford.  I’ve got a doctorate in herpetology.”

              “Thank god,” Stan muttered.  “We’re gonna need your expert smarts when the kid hatches.” He grimaced.  “My kid’s gonna hatch from an egg.”

              “I’m sorry,” Angie said quietly.

              “Why?”

              “Yer kid’s goin’ to hatch from an egg ‘cause I’m the mother.”

              “You being the mom is a good thing, Ang.  I’m glad I’m having a kid with you,” Stan said. Angie smiled.

              “Did you lay any others?” Ford asked.  Angie sighed.

              “No.  Just the one.”

              “Odd.  Water sprites like nixies tend to spawn.  Maybe you only laid one because it has a human for a father.  Or maybe because you aren’t a full-blooded nixie.”

              “Spawn,” Stan croaked, his voice cracking.

              “Okay, that’s it.”  Angie took the jar from Ford.

              “Hey!  I was examining that!”

              “‘That’ happens to be my child,” Angie snarled. “You can examine my baby when I say it’s okay.  And right now, my child, my boyfriend, and I are goin’ to find somewhere private. It’s darn difficult to have a serious conversation about us bein’ parents with ya interruptin’ every minute.”

-----

              Stan and Angie walked down the dock.  It was the middle of the day, so they weren’t alone at the lake, but they had decided it was still a better place to talk than the house.  They sat down at the end of the dock, their legs dangling over the edge.

              “Can I, uh, can I see the egg?” Stan asked quietly. Angie handed over the jar.  Stan removed the lid to look more closely at his unborn child.

              Not really unborn. She’s gonna hatch, so, unhatched, I guess.

              “Are you all right?” Angie asked, just as quiet as Stan.  Stan nodded.

              “Yeah.  I’m just, uh, trying to, y’know, come to terms with this.  I didn’t even know if I’d be able to have kids with you, since you’re a frog,” he said.  Angie chuckled softly.  “And now…now I’m gonna have a daughter.”

              “Wait.  Daughter?” Angie asked.

              “The egg’s pink.  It’s gonna be a girl,” Stan said, matter-of-fact.  Angie stared at him.  “You’ve heard of pink going with girls and blue going with boys before, right?”

              “I- yes, but I highly doubt that’ll translate in this way,” Angie said.

              “I’ve got a feeling about it.”

              “Hmm.”

              “My gut feelings are never wrong, Ang,” Stan said firmly.  “We’re gonna have a little girl.”

              “Well, there is a 50% chance yer right,” Angie said after a moment.  She reached for Stan’s hand and laced her fingers with his.  “Do ya have any idea what names ya like?”

              “Molly,” Stan said immediately.  Angie quirked a small smile.

              “Ya had that one locked and loaded.”

              “I’ve wanted to be a dad since I was a teenager. I’ve thought about what I wanna name my kids,” Stan said with a shrug.  Angie’s smile broadened.

              “I like Molly, too.  And if the lil one turns out to be a boy…”

              “It’s a girl.”

              “Ya don’t want to hear what I think we should name our son?” Angie asked.

              “I mean, it’s not necessary, but go for it.”

              “I was thinkin’ we could name him after you. Stan Junior.”

              “I- you- you wanna name your kid after me?” Stan croaked.  Angie leaned against him.

              “Our kid, darlin’.  Not mine.  Ours. Why wouldn’t he be named after his father?” she said tenderly.  Tears sprang to Stan’s eyes.  He brushed them away roughly.

              “Yeah,” he choked out.  “Yeah, that sounds- that sounds good.”  Angie stroked Stan’s cheek.  “I don’t think we should still be living with Fidds and Ford when the kid hatches.”

              “I reckon yer right ‘bout that.”  Angie’s eyes widened.  “Oh!  So, durin’ my time explorin’ the lake, I stumbled across somethin’ incredible.”

              “What?”

              “There’s some nice-lookin’ caves behind the falls. There’s plenty of room fer a full fam’ly to live there.  And there’s even some natural pools of water fer eggs or nixies to sleep in.”

              “Huh.”  Stan thought on that for a moment.  “We wouldn’t have to pay rent.”

              “Nope.”  Angie rubbed the back of her neck.  “I don’t know if it’s a good long-term solution, but I think it’s definitely a decent one fer right now.”

              “Yeah, and it’s better than living with our brothers…” Stan grinned at Angie.  “I think that we can live in a cave like frogs.”

              Angie beamed.

-----

              Stan watched anxiously as Ford removed the egg from its jar to examine it.  Every instinct he had was screaming to rip the egg out of Ford’s hands.  Ford gently set the egg into a bowl of water.

              “She’s getting very large,” Ford commented.  Angie rolled her eyes.

              “Really?  You, too?”

              “The egg is the color associated with femininity.”

              “Assignin’ pink ‘n blue to gender is a human construct, Stanford,” Angie said shortly.  She, Stan, and Ford were in the basement lab at the house, where Ford and Angie were making their regular observations tracking the egg’s development. Angie was the one who suggested that Ford track the egg’s development with her, an opportunity he jumped at.

              “I suppose we’ll find out when she hatches.” Ford carefully turned the egg over. Stan winced.  “You’ll need a larger jar to transport her soon.”  Angie sighed.

              “Here’s the thing.  I can’t find any bigger jars.  I think that this is the last time I’ll be able to bring the egg over.  From now on, it’ll have to stay in the cave pool.”

              “Nope!” a voice said.  Everyone looked over.  Fiddleford had arrived, carrying something.  He strode over to Angie.  “I whipped somethin’ up fer ya.”  He handed the item to Angie.  She looked it over doubtfully.

              “Uh, a tote bag?” Angie asked.  Fiddleford chuckled.

              “That’s just one of its uses.  It’s multi-functional, o’ course.”

              “Of course,” Stan muttered.  Fiddleford ignored him.

              “Think of it as a portable version of the tank I made fer ya.  When ya zip up the top, it’ll keep water in perfectly, without any spillin’.  Ya can carry it over yer shoulder, on yer back, or even on yer front.”  Angie looked up curiously.  Fiddleford beamed.  “That’s the best part, I think.  If ya wear it on yer front and tuck it under yer clothes, it’ll give the impression yer expectin’.”

              “That’s actually a great idea,” Stan said. “Angie and I have been getting a bit worried about people noticing we have a kid when she was never pregnant.” He waved a hand.  “Sure, adoption exists, but there’s no way the kid won’t have either my nose or Angie’s.  She’s gonna look like us.”

              “Thank you, Fidds,” Angie said.  She smiled.  “This really is great.”  Fiddleford’s smile broadened further.

              “Speaking of which traits your daughter is going to get…” Ford said slowly.  Fiddleford frowned.

              “What makes ya think the pollywog’s goin’ to be a girl?” he asked.  Angie sighed.

              “Stan and Ford are stuck on the egg bein’ pink.”

              “Stanford, that don’t mean jack.”

              “In my professional opinion-” Ford started, his voice rising.

              “What were ya goin’ to say about traits?” Angie interrupted.

              “I- ahem.”  Ford cleared his throat.  “I wonder which traits from which forms will pass down.”  Angie frowned thoughtfully.

              “Elaborate.”

              “In your native form, you are blonde, like Fiddleford,” Ford said, gesturing to Angie’s caramel-colored hair.  Stan rolled his eyes.

              “The guy who said my kid’s egg is ‘cherry blossom’ thinks Angie and Fiddleford have the same hair color,” he muttered.  Ford blinked.

              “They’re both blonde.”

              “Yeah, but in different ways.”

              “Stanford, ignore him,” Fiddleford said.  “Finish yer thought, please.”

              “Right.  As I was saying, Angie, you are blonde when in human form, but as a nixie, you have black hair.  I’m curious as to whether your daughter will have black hair or blonde hair as a human.”

              “Or brown hair,” Angie said.  Ford frowned.

              “Why would she have brown hair?” he asked. Stan cupped his hands around his mouth.

              “Dumbass, I’m the kid’s dad!” he shouted.

              “Ah.  Yes. Fair point.”  Ford looked at Stan with some concern.  “Are you all right?”

              “No, my genius brother is an idiot,” Stan retorted, crossing his arms.

              “Not-” Ford huffed.  “Your voice sounds…off.  Do you have a frog in your throat?”

              “That’s racist,” Angie mumbled.

              “I mean, I don’t have a frog in my throat right now,” Stan said.  Fiddleford and Angie turned beet red.  After a moment, Ford flushed as well.  Stan snickered.  “Nah, I think that I’m just getting used to living behind the waterfall.”

              “Why would that alter your voice?” Ford asked. Stan shrugged.

              “I mean, I haven’t been able to fully dry off since we moved there.  Don’t you get sick if you stay wet?”

              “Not necessarily,” Ford said.

              “He’s fine,” Angie said.  “Can we please finish lookin’ at the egg?  I’m eager to try this here bag Fidds made.”

              “Yes, of course.”  Ford and Angie turned their attention back to the egg.  Fiddleford joined them as well.  Stan leaned against the wall, deciding to observe from a distance. He uncrossed an arm to scratch his neck, unaware of the thin slime that briefly oozed from the itch.

-----

              “Stan!”  Stan looked up from his attempts to shave, using one of the cave pools as a mirror. Angie beamed broadly at him. “C’mere!”  Stan wiped his face clean, got up, and joined Angie at the pool she had designated for the egg.  “Look!”  She pointed at the egg.

              “Uh, what am I looking at?” Stan asked.

              “The lil pollywog is swimmin’ in the egg!” Angie gushed.  Stan sat down and leaned in to look closely at the egg.  His eyes widened.  Sure enough, the dark speck inside the egg was moving.  “I reckon it’s a bit like when someone pregnant first feels their baby kickin’.”

              “Yeah.”

              “I’d say that we’ve only got a couple months ‘fore the lil one hatches.”

              “Wow, that soon?”

              “Yep.”

              “Damn.”  Stan smiled as he watched the tadpole swimming around inside its egg.  “Holy Moses, I’m gonna be a dad soon,” he said quietly.  His eyes widened.  “I’m gonna be a dad, but I’m not married.”

              “Oh,” Angie said, sounding surprised.  “That’s right.  We ain’t married.”

              “We should probably do that at some point,” Stan said.  Angie laughed softly.  “What?”

              “I’m just imaginin’ my fam’ly gettin’ invitations to a wedding where they haven’t even heard of the groom ‘fore.”

              “Wait.”

              “Oh.  Oh no.” Stan and Angie stared at each other. “I never told my fam’ly ‘bout ya.”

              “We’ve been dating for months!  We’re gonna be parents soon!”

              “I- well-” Angie spluttered.  “Have you told yer fam’ly ‘bout me?” she shot back.

              “Touché.  But you talk to your family a lot more than I talk to mine.”

              “Yeah.”  Angie rubbed the back of her neck nervously.  “There’s just- a lot has happened very quickly.  We first met a lil over a year ago, ‘member?”

              “That was only a year ago?”

              “A bit more,” Angie corrected.

              “Still.”  Stan looked back at the egg.  “Damn. We moved fast.”

              “Apparently.”  Angie groaned, kneading her forehead.  “Oh, Lord. They’re all goin’ to blow their gaskets.”

              “Especially when you mention the kid,” Stan pointed out. Angie groaned louder.  “I wonder how easily we’ll be able to get the kid to look human…”  After a moment, Angie nodded.

              “Good point.  Maybe we wait to mention we have a child until that child can hide its gills.”

-----

              Stan scowled as he watched Lute stare at the egg. Angie had called her family to let them know she had a serious boyfriend about a month ago.  Earlier that week, her older brother, Lute, had showed up determined to find out Stan’s “intentions” with his younger sister. Before Stan knew what was happening, Lute had discovered Angie was a nixie, as well as the existence of the egg.

              And now, he’s in my home, gaping at my unhatched kid like it’s the star freak in a sideshow.  Stan cleared his throat.

              “All right, are you satisfied?” he asked tartly. Lute nodded, still staring at the egg. “Great.  Now-”

              “Is it s’pposed to be movin’?” Lute interrupted. Everyone looked over at the egg. Sure enough, it was rocking back and forth in the small pool.  Stan looked at Angie.  Her eyes were wide.  She quickly got into the pool with the egg.

              “Are you all right, honey?” she asked quietly, stroking the egg.  The egg rocked more violently as the tadpole pushed against the membrane.  Then, before their eyes, a tear formed.  “Oh my- oh my goodness.”  The tadpole slid out of the egg, into the water.  Stan fell to his knees by the side of the pool.

              “Holy shit,” he whispered.  Ford, Fiddleford, and Lute knelt as well.

              “I think we just watched our new niece or nephew get born,” Ford commented.  The freshly hatched tadpole, the size of a human newborn, was swimming happily around the pool.  Unlike Angie, whose nixie skin was green, the tadpole had mottled brown skin, and, like a regular tadpole, had a tail instead of legs.  “Angie, is your child male or female?”

              “I, uh, I’m not sure,” Angie said after a moment. She caught the tadpole with her arms, hugging it close.  “Determining sex of amphibians isn’t easy to do.”  Stan sat down and dangled his legs in the pool.

              “C’mere, Ang.”  Angie came over, still holding the tadpole.  Stan looked down at his child, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Most of the tadpole’s features in nixie form were very similar to Angie’s.  There were a couple differences, namely that the tadpole’s nose looked like Angie’s human one, not her nixie one.  The only other difference aside from skin color, was the tadpole’s eye color.  Brown, not blue.  Stan smiled.

              The kid’s got my eyes.

              “Hey, kiddo,” Stan said quietly.  The tadpole looked up at him curiously.  “I might be a human, but I’m still your dad, got it?” The tadpole blinked.  “Good work, babe.  The kid’s just as gorgeous as you are.”  Angie chuckled softly.  Stan leaned over and kissed her.  The moment his lips touched Angie’s, a strange prickling sensation spread across Stan’s skin.

              “What in the-” Lute muttered.  Ford swore softly.  Stan broke off the kiss to look at their audience.

              “What, you’ve never seen a guy kiss his gal?” he demanded.  His eyes widened at the suddenly much lower pitch to his voice, as well as the change in tone.  Fiddleford and Lute’s jaws dropped.

              “Ya don’t sound like a smoker no more,” Lute said after a moment.  He gestured to Stan.  “Maybe it has somethin’ to do with whatever just happened to yer skin.”

              “My skin?”  Stan looked down at his hands.  His jaw dropped.  His skin was soft and slimy like Angie’s, mottled brown like their tadpole’s. “Uh…”

              “I warned you, Stanley,” Ford said.  Stan looked up at his twin.  To his surprise, Ford looked more amused than upset.  “I warned you that if you continued to interact with Angie in nixie form, you would become a magical creature yourself.”

              “That’s what just happened?” Lute asked.  “But he don’t look anything like Angie or the, uh, the pollywog!  His skin and voice changed, that’s all.”

              “Okay, I need to get a good look at myself,” Stan muttered.  Angie scooted away so that Stan could use the pool to look at his reflection.  Stan leaned over, staring at the water.  Like Lute had said, his features had remained the same, though his skin was now of the same texture as Angie and the tadpole. His face and the front of his body were a pale brown, with dark brown mottling around his sides.  “I look like the missing link between myself and Angie.” Angie snickered softly.

              “This is just an intermediate stage,” Ford said. “I have no doubts that you’ll soon complete your transformation into a nixie.”

              “Huh.”  Stan looked up at Angie.  “Guess you don’t get to hog all the fresh bait now.”

              “Pardon?” Lute asked.  Stan looked over his shoulder.

              “You’re still here?” he drawled.  Lute scowled.

              “Stan’s got a point,” Angie said.  “Would the three of you mind leaving us alone for some quality time with our little pollywog?”  Ford, Fiddleford, and Lute got up.

              “Ya best bring that lil one of ya over first thing tomorrow, okay?” Fiddleford instructed.  Stan waved a hand airily, noting absently that thin webbing stretched between his otherwise unchanged fingers.

              “Yeah, yeah.  Now, beat it.”  Their brothers left.  Stan looked at Angie.  He winked. “Hey, babe.”  Angie giggled.  Stan removed his clothes and slid into the pool with Angie.  Angie, still holding the tadpole, scooted over to be next to Stan.

              “Given your color and the little one’s color, I wonder if our kidlet might be a boy,” Angie said, stroking the tadpole.

              “Are you sure?”

              “No.  But it’s our best lead.  So until we have some other piece of evidence, should we call the kidlet our son?” Angie asked.  Stan grinned.

              “I’ve always wanted a son, so, I’m down for it.”

              “Hmm, or maybe you’re just happy because the name we came up with for a boy was Stan Junior,” Angie teased.  She kissed his cheek.  Stan felt another strange tingling, but this time, concentrated around his hands and feet.  He looked down at his hands.  They were now large and webbed like Angie’s.  “Whoops.”

              “Eh.  I’m gonna turn all nixie at some point,” Stan said with a shrug.  He looped an arm around Angie’s shoulders.  She leaned against him.  Stan stroked his son’s bald head.  “Junior, I’m glad you’re here,” he said quietly.  Angie smiled.

              “So am I.”

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Ice Cold Tommy ShelbyxOC

When Alice met him, his eyes were as blue as the clear summer sky. His smile brightened her life and she was the reason he breathed. They wed when they were eighteen. Out among the vardos, bright-eyed and innocent. Breathless from dancing all night together with the fires roaring. Eager to discover how life would be now that their souls were intertwined.

When they were twenty-one, Mary-Anne came along. Red-faced and screaming like a true Shelby. Everything was meant to be perfect from that moment on. Husband and wife. Father, mother, and daughter. Tommy was a wild soul but he was a loving man and would never do anything that would bring harm to his wife or daughter.

When war struck, Alice desperately tried to hold onto the family she had formed. Tried to block out the chaos the world had devolved into. But Tommy was ripped from her arms before she could even try to make him stay. She was left five-months pregnant with a three-year-old who sobbed for daddy to come home every night.

But there was no way of going back to the way they once were. The hardest part of Alice’s life was seeing the change in her husband when he returned from France. A change that would stick, would become a permanent part of the man she loved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Daddy!” Mary-Ann screeched when she saw Tommy in the thick crowd of soldiers and their loved ones.

Tommy’s face lit up. He picked up his daughter. “Look at you.” He kissed her cheek. “You’ve grown twice as big since I saw you last.”

Alice already felt the tears sting her eyes. She’d been crying off and on the entire day. It took all the patience in the world to wait for him. She’d been waiting so long. “Tommy.” She cried softly.

“Hello, love.” He murmured softly. His eyes fell to the young boy in her arms and his heart stuttered. He peered up at his father with the same piercing blue eyes.

“This is Robert.” His wife said shakily. How did you introduce a father to his son who was already three years old? “Bobby, this is your dad.”

The boy smiled shyly but clung to his mother. He buried his face in the crook of Alice’s neck.

“Hello, Bobby.” Tommy smiled warmly. “I know you don’t know me.” His throat tightened. It was unbearable to watch his son grow through the occasional photograph he received in the sparse letters that actually made it to him in the trenches. But it lifted his spirits and gave him a reason to keep fighting. There were three very good reasons to make it back to Birmingham. Two little children who needed their father and a woman who needed her husband.

“Bobby’s three,” Mary-Anne explained and promptly held up four fingers.

Tommy chuckled and gently lowered her pinky finger. “That’s three.”

The little girl stared at her hands for a moment, mentally counting, her lips mouthing the numbers she was just starting to learn. “Oh right!” She smiled and held three fingers right in her father’s face.

“That’s right.” He kissed her hand and reached to pull his wife close. The four of them stood there on the train platform, Tommy’s arms wrapping around them and keeping them safe.

~~~~~~~~~~

Mary-Anne chattered on the entire way back to Six Watery Lane, telling her father about all he’d missed. He listened intently, nodding and making noises of agreement. He held his wife’s hand tightly, reassuring her he was there and not a dream. Robert continued peeking out behind the curtain of Alice’s hair to look at Tommy. When their eyes met, he’d giggled shyly and buried his face again.

The flat was still the same. The cramped, but cozy space they’d made into a home. Finn excitedly greeted his older brother and Tommy was amazed to see how big he’d gotten. He could hardly even pick him up and throw him over his shoulder like he used to. From there, he was passed from family member to family member. Arthur and John returned home and announced a celebration at the Garrison, the pub that Arthur swore he would own one day.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy decided to stay behind for a bit though to spend more time with his family. Overexcited, Mary-Anne quickly crashed and fell asleep in the room she shared with Robert. The little boy also went down for a nap, giving Tommy time alone with Alice.

“Oh God, I thought you’d never come home.” Alice gasped and ran into his arms once they were in their room with the door closed.

“Never stopped thinking ‘bout you,” Tommy promised and held her tightly.

She knotted her fingers into his hair that had grown a bit longer than how it usually was. But it appeared that he’d attempted to clean up before he returned home. He was freshly shaved and someone had recently given him a haircut. “I never did either. You have no idea how happy I am now that you’re back.” She laughed tearfully and nuzzled his cheek.

“Ali, it’s alright.” He soothed and felt her hands trembling. His thumb swept the tears away from her cheeks.

“I know, I know, I know.” She felt like her entire bloodstream was electrified. Shockwaves passing every nerve each second she was with him. “I’m just afraid it’s a dream.”

“Well, better make sure it isn’t, aye?” He smiled cheekily and pressed a kiss right below her earlobe. “Want to get out of this fucking uniform.”

He didn’t need to drop another hint. Alice immediately started to unbutton his shirt and he reached up to undo her hair and let it loose.

“I love you.” Tommy murmured and backed up to the bed, bringing him with her.

“Love you too,” Alice replied breathlessly and brought him into a deep kiss.

~~~~~~~~~

After reuniting on an intimate level, Alice began to get dressed again, knowing the kids would wake up soon and Tommy would head off to the Garrison. But her husband idled. He tugged on his boxers but lay back in bed to smoke a cigarette.

Alice picked up Tommy’s uniform off the ground and began to fold it up. “Want me to store this away?” She asked, carefully smoothing over the slightly weathered material.

“No.” He shook his head. “You can toss it.”

She looked at him and for the first time, noticed his eyes had gone cold. They were far from the summer sky that she once knew. The warmth disappeared the moment she mentioned the uniform. It made her pause for a moment. She wanted to ask what was wrong but of course, it was obvious. Many men had been coming back severely damaged. Some had lost limbs and some had been so deeply emotionally scarred.

Alice had hoped, maybe naively, that when Tommy returned everything would be perfectly fine. But the things he’d seen, she would never understand or be able to help him though.

“Okay…” She placed the pants and shirt on the dresser, setting the coat on top. “What about your medals?” Her fingers grazed over the cold metal and ribbons pinned to the front of the coat.

“No.” He repeated and stared ahead. There was no way he was going to keep any physical memory of that damned war around his house. It was bad enough he couldn’t scrub away the mental memories.

“Are you sure, I mean don’t you think it would be nice to show Mary and Bobby when they’re older? Show them how brave…”

“Alice, I said no.” His eyes flicked to her. The severe blue had gone so cold. Detaching himself from the horrific things he’d seen.

His wife bit her lip and nodded. “Alright.” She whispered quietly.

The room went silent but was soon interrupted by a small knock on the door. Alice opened it and smiled when she saw Robert holding his stuffed bear. “Up from your nap already?”

Tommy released some of the tension in his shoulders and stubbed out his cigarette in the ash tray on the side table. “C’mere Bobby.” He said gently. “Come say hi.” He held out his arms.

The young boy smiled but looked up at Alice for reassurance. “Go on.” She murmured. “Go see daddy.”

He wandered over to the bed and let Tommy scoop him up. “What’ve you got there, aye?” Tommy murmured and wiggled the arm of the bear.

Robert giggled and reached over to touch his cheek. “Daddy.” He recognized the man from the photographs that his mum showed him. Now he was there in the flesh.

While Alice lingered around the door, she heard more footsteps running down the hall. Rejuvenated after her nap, Mary-Anne came dashing into the room and catapulted herself onto the bed. “Hi, daddy!” She scrambled onto his lap, jostling for space.

“Easy, easy.” Tommy chuckled and wrapped his arms around them both. “There you go.” He kissed her forehead and then Robert’s.

Alice smiled and watched him talk softly to his children. His son warming up to the man he had been waiting his entire life to meet. The chill in Tommy’s eyes had seemed to melt. But it would return. More often than Alice would’ve liked. But she was reassured that the warmth she grew to love was still there, even if hidden behind a thick wall of ice. The war had changed everything. And whether she liked it or not, things would continue to change. Tommy Shelby was about to make a name for himself.

Peaky Blinders Masterlist 

[zenithlux]

Only the Best (VergilxReader)

In which you decide to celebrate a special Valentine’s Day with a certain, blue devil and with what you hope is an equally special gift.

Happy Valentine’s Day Ya’ll ^^ Hope you enjoy 

You've been with Vergil for almost eight months, yet Valentine's Day felt like it was going to be the most terrifying day of your life.

You had yet to decide if that qualified as being over-dramatic.

After a year and a half as Vergil’s “confidant” (the word “friend” apparently didn’t exist in his dictionary), you knew that Vergil didn’t care for holidays. Dante claimed that his brother often forgot them entirely, as he never had a reason to celebrate. And while you understood that, you were very different. Holidays were a chance to try something new, unwind, and just spend time with others. It was probably something you got from your father, who always found the craziest reasons - usually an obscure celebration of some kind - to come home with your favorite food and simple presents.

So, when you did start dating Vergil (which had surprised even you, as you evolved from “acquaintance” to “companion” after a rather honest, late-night conversation), you’d often wondered how you would handle this particular difference between you two. Every holiday since that night had been filled with excited people and other things to do. Halloween had come and gone, and you were happy to help with a costume party at the orphanage (and had been quite amused at the Batman costume the kids had begged Vergil to wear). Thanksgiving had been completely out of your hands, as Kyrie and Nico cooked everything while you were stuck at work. It had been Vergil who had dragged you out of bed after your overly long shift to join them at a rather impressive dinner. You expected Christmas to be the most difficult, as it involved presents (which Vergil always claimed he didn’t want). But his family had kept him busy on that one, and he'd actually accepted your gift in private; chocolate strawberries (you never told his family of that one) and a silver star charm for Yamato; a reminder of your first real date to the planetarium.

You were thrilled to find that attached to Yamato’s hilt the very next day. 

But Valentine's Day was something else entirely. There was no family to back you up (though Dante had cheekily offered). No chaos to hide behind. Just you and Vergil and some kind of present because you really just couldn't help yourself. And as much as he adamantly declared that he didn't need gifts… he'd never declined the few you’d given him. 

But you've also never tried to give him something so… frivolous. You’d considered buying another series present - books had been your go-to for your random bouts of gift-giving - but that seemed too simple. Too obvious. And it wasn’t often that you’d had a significant other on Valentine’s Day, and you were (mostly) certain that Vergil wouldn’t remember it. So, as you wandered the seasonal aisle at your favorite store, you were bouncing with nervous energy, determined to find something that would work. 

Except nothing felt right. It didn’t help that Vergil despised the color red on anything that wasn’t Dante’s jacket. 80% of everything you saw was already out of the question. The teddy bears were too bright. The larger stuffed animals were too cumbersome. The chocolate wouldn’t fit his tastes (you had to go far out of your way for that). He wasn’t interested in any other candies (a real shame, though you were happy to enjoy whatever sweets he passed on). The cards were all too impersonal. And the longer you circled these three aisles, the more frustrated you got. 

There had to be something. Anything that would earn that rare, adorable, and sincere smile you only saw when others weren’t around. But you couldn’t imagine giving any of these things to him… and you were quickly running out of time. Maybe if you’d thought about it sooner you could’ve done something more personal. A handwritten letter an option, though you’d only given him one of those, and you hadn’t actually seen anything but a curious, raised eyebrow when you handed it to him. The bookstore wasn’t too far away… you could always fall back on that…

“Hey!”

Nero’s voice almost startled you, and you weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or even more embarrassed. Fortunately, his knowing smile was all you needed to wave back. “Last minute shopping?” You said. 

Nero sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly? I almost forgot about it.”

You laughed. Like father like son. “Well, Kyrie seems easy to shop for. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Easier than finding something for my old man, huh?”

Yep. You’d be caught. Though you really shouldn’t have been surprised. While Vergil never outright announced your relationship, everyone in the family knew. Maybe it was the way he’d started sitting beside you at every outing or leaving early to walk you home. Or possibly the nights he spent at your house instead of Devil May Cry, watching TV (which he hated in any other circumstance), or talking over tea (which he hated a little less). The most obvious sign was his lack of response to Dante’s teasing after months of harsh denial. That had been the metaphorical nail in the coffin that confirmed what everyone you knew already assumed.

Regardless, you couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious. “You’re not… wrong.”

Nero laughed. “Whatcha thinking of getting him?”

You sigh. “Nothing at the moment.”

“Then you’re overthinking it.”

You blink in surprise. “What do you…?”

“He’ll love anything you buy,” Nero said with a shrug. 

“...Are we talking about the same man?”

Nero laughed as he picked through the top row of teddy bears. “I’ve only known him for a few years, but even I can tell when he’s committed.” You blushed at that, though Nero didn’t notice as he pulled down a light pink bear holding a white heart. “Trust me. Find something that speaks to you or whatever, and it’ll be enough.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

And after another loop around the aisle, you found it. The perfect gift. And that’s when the wheels started turning, piecing together all the ways to make it a Valentine’s Day he might actually enjoy.

After all, only the best was acceptable for your handsome, blue devil. 

Two days later, you couldn’t contain the painful bundle of nerves that had your stomach in knots and your heart nearly bursting from your chest. It was the first time that you’d officially invited him to your apartment, as he often just showed up on your doorstep whenever he wanted. Granted, he always conveniently knew when you were there, and you’d never had a reason (or a desire) to turn him away. But those impromptu meetings were usually dictated by him. So even he had been a bit surprised when you asked him directly with a specific time in mind, and a promise of a good meal. 

You didn’t mention the holiday, and you’d glared Dante into submission before he had a chance to spoil it. But you didn’t miss the smirk on the younger twin’s face, or the subtle thumbs up he gave you when Vergil wasn’t looking. Unfortunately, Dante’s “encouragement” hadn’t helped your nerves in the slightest. Neither had an entire day of cooking, or the panic trip to the store when you realized that you’d bought the wrong wine. Then you’d spent way too long debating if you should or shouldn’t put the rose petals on the table, or light the strawberry-scented candles, or…

A gentle knock at the door brought your thoughts to a screeching halt. You took a long, deep breath, smoothed down your blue dress, and greeted your partner with the most genuine smile you could muster. “Welcome!”

That ever familiar, curious eyebrow raise shot back at you, but you merely stepped aside to let him in. “Just in time,” You said as you wandered back to the kitchen. “The steak’s almost done.” Why were you so nervous? You felt like a teenager on a first date, not a full-grown woman having dinner with someone you’ve cooked for at least a dozen times by now. But then your thoughts strayed to the present and you swallowed another bout of nerves. 

“Are you alright?”

You jumped much further than you meant to and flushed likely as bright as a strawberry when he had to grab you before you tumbled straight to the floor. “Fine!” You said. “I’m… fine.” 

He wasn’t fooled (was he ever?). “Are you…” He paused, brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, really.” You said. “Honest. I’m just…” The words ‘Losing it’ crossed your mind, and you sighed as he gently pulled yourself away. “I guess I should just get it over with, huh?” You could feel his eyes on you as you half-scurried out of the kitchen, only to return with a small, blue box with a simple, black bow. “I know, I know,” You said hastily as his eyes flickered between you and it at least twice. “You don’t like gifts. But today’s special.” You held it out to him. “So… here.”

It felt like an eternity before he took it from you, though it could’ve only been around thirty seconds, tops.  Mercifully, he didn’t waste time opening it, and your heart twisted when his eyes widened ever so slightly. The blue dragon plush was a bit larger than your hand, so you knew it would fit perfectly in his palm… if he’d actually take it out of the box. Instead, he simply stared at it, as if he wasn’t certain what it was. “When I was out shopping,” you said. “I kept thinking of what would mean the most to you.” His eyes flickered to yours. Still, he said nothing. After another deep breath, you continued with as much confidence as you could muster. “So I thought you would want something small that your brother won’t see, that can keep you company when I’m not around.”

After another quiet moment, which wasn’t nearly as nerve-wracking as the last one, he finally lifted it. You smiled, relieved when it did, in fact, fit perfectly in his hands, its little legs dangling just off the sides. “Your perfume,” He said in a very matter-of-fact way. But you didn’t miss the slight twitch of his lips. So close. 

“I may have slept with it the last few days,” You said. “And wearing your favorite perfume. Of course.” Finally, as the last of your nerves slipped away, you gave him a rather cheeky grin. “If you ever need more, you’ll have to come back for it.”

Finally, finally, it happened. He smiled. That genuine, relaxed, Vergil smile that you would give anything to see every day of your life. And it wasn’t a grin like Dante or Nero, but a gentle show of emotion that fit him just right. “This is very thoughtful, my love.”

Your heart fluttered in a mix of surprise and adoration. You couldn’t recall if he’d ever called you that. Maybe you missed it? Unlikely, as you had a feeling you’d never forget such a thing. Especially not when it was said with such astounding tenderness; the kind of tone that only he could ever pull off. “I’m glad you like it.” 

Then a much smaller box practically appeared in your hands, and it took far too long for you to realize it. “I’ve been informed numerous times this month that today is Valentine’s Day,” He said. Your eyes snapped to his in surprise, and you felt your cheeks flush as his fingers brushed yours when pulled his hand away from yours. “My brother stayed out of this purchase, of that much I can assure you.” 

You couldn’t hide your gasp when you saw it; a silver heart necklace with glittering sapphires in the shape of a V. “Vergil…”

“It hasn’t been long,” he said as he slowly took your hand. There was a hint of nerves in his voice, something that you’d never heard before. But it made your heart swell as he pushed through it, and brushed his thumb along your check. “But you’ve already managed to steal my heart.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that. “Now that’s something Dante did have a hand in, yes?”

Vergil snorted but didn’t deny it. “He may have mentioned kicking me out soon. I can’t fathom why.”

You paused for a moment, even though you already knew what you wanted to say. “There’s plenty of room here,” you said as you confidently met his gaze again. “I wouldn’t mind having someone else around more often if you’d like. And your little dragon would probably prefer this place to your brother’s.”

He watched you, expression calm, face unreadable. You tilted your head. “Is everything…”

The world stopped when his lips brushed yours, but he pulled away long before your heart found its way back to its body. “I would happily live here with you, my love,” He said, smirking when he saw how much he’d caught you off guard. But, in a surge of unprecedented confidence, you practically crashed back into him with a much deeper kiss than his had been. This time, he didn’t pull away, and you knew you’d be more than happy if he never did again.

[nooriginalitylove]

-And we're not bruised, they're just party tattoos

Thank @sanderssides-incorrectquotes for this wonderful prompt, using Dodie’s “Party Tattoos” as Platonic! DRLAMP

———

This is a collection of things that happened throughout Virgil, Patton, Roman, Logan, Remus, and Dimitri’s lives. All of these things happened at different periods in their lives.

Take a look at the clock only so long to go, scrubbing smooth young skin saying I don't know, grab a bag, grab a bottle but leave the "what if?", you'll see it in the morning after your kicks

Roman sat in his classroom, glancing at the clock near the door, desperately wishing the bell would ring and he could leave the brightly colored room with the too-loud noises. His hands were drawn on, too; something his father would have a fit over if he saw.

Finally, the piercing noise signaling the end of the day rang out throughout the building.

He grabbed his water bottle and his bag and scrambled to leave the classroom filled with laughing kids.

Unknowingly, he ended up in the bathrooms, scrubbing at his hands to remove the pen he’d drawn on his hands on roughly.

The door opened, revealing Dimitri in all his glory. The other teen walked over, rolling his eyes fonding when he caught the sigh of swirls in black pen on the other’s tan hands.

“Let me help; you’ll scrub your hands raw.” The paler of the two said scoldingly. Roman laughed, feeling much more relaxed.

All you will need for a rocking good time, is a bunch of people who don't give a damn. There's a yes, in your head, gotta find where it's at, you'll lose it in the morning but ignore that

A group of colorful individuals sat at a picnic table. The sun beamed down on the group lovingly, and Virgil almost needed to cover his eyes.

“C’mon, Virg! Remus is gonna go pet the raccoon!” Patton yelled, laughing at the thought. Even Logan looked interestedly as one of the Realeza twins stalked toward the raccoon.

Virgil laughed, a tiny smile making its way onto his face as he stood up and rushed over just in time to see the raccoon jump kn Remus’ face. Roman screamed with laughter as he tried to get the rapid animal off his brother.

And we're not bruised, they're just party tattoos, and that colourful mess is just colourful regret!

Logan’s breathing had gone ragged as he sat, curled up, in his room. His latest test, in Maths, had gotten a D+, and he was unjustly freaking out.

“Oh my god, oh my god-“ he stuttered, on the point of hyperventilating. His chest felt tight, his legs weak; his knowledge was everything, and now, he had nothing.

A door opened, just as Logan felt all his air leaving him. “Lo?” Was called out, probably not as loud as it felt but it made his head pound all the same.

Patton was in front of him, a familiar worried look on his pretty face. “What’s wrong?” Patton asked, bring Logan close to his chest. “Breathe, Lo.” He whispered.

His breathing was ragged, still, but more even after Patton’s coaxing to breathe in for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. “Thank you,” Patton whispered to him, smiling at him, “You did great.”

The other pulled Logan and himself to Logan’s bed, and grabbed his hands for support. “What’s wrong, Lo?”

Black lipstick will never be a sin, we'll regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin. Regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin. Regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin

Remus’ lips were colored a dark black, drawing the color straight from the night’s darkest skies. “How do I look?” He asked, fluttering his eyes teasingly. Dimitri smiled at him, deciding to humor the crazy man, “You look great, Ree.”

The man in front of him nodded, “Of course I do. But go tell that to my brother; I know I’m amazing, he’s all worried ‘bout stupid shit.” Remus waved him off, running up to Logan and starting to annoy him.

Dimitri pitied the dude; he really did.

But he walked over to Roman anyway, because a pissy Logan was something he didn’t want to deal with.

“Hey, Ro.” The beanie wearing man said, waving slightly at the other. Roman looked away from Virgil, who he was talking with, and smiled. “Hey, Dee.”

With simple hellos out of the way, Dimitri sat down, “You look great, Ro.” He said, noticing the way Roman seemed to fidget with his outfit self-consciously.

Roman flushed bright red, “Thank you?”

My mummy said to always wear a coat, but it's warm and it's heavy and we're trying to float, don't forget she'll be right when it's three a.m. So shiver, but shiver with a friend

Patton was getting ready to leave, when his mum appeared in the living room, where the front door was. “Patton, dear?” She asked as he touched the handle.

He turned to the woman, smiling though slightly defeated; what did she want now?

“Yeah, mom?” He asked back, leaning against the wall. “Bring a coat with you.” She said simply, walking back into the the kitchen. He paused, glancing outside.

It was getting warm out; reaching almost 80° outside because it was getting to be summer. “What the duck?” He said, grabbing a thin jacket before leaving before his mum could spot him.

And we're not bruised they're just party tattoos, and that colourful mess is just colourful regret!

When Remus entered his house, he’d been trying to stay quiet. Though it didn’t matter that much, anyway, because Roman still turned around in his spinny chair with a stern look on his face.

Roman glared at his brother, hard. He wasn’t angry, truthfully, but he’d been worried. Extremely worried. Remus shot a smile at his brother.

“Hey, Ro-Ro. What are you doing up so late?” He asked weakly, trying to joke. Roman stood up, and uncrossed his arms to envelop Remus in a tight embrace.

He looked at his brother, “I was worried, tu gilipollas!” He shouted.

*tu gilipollas = you asshole in Spanish* sorry if this is wrong, I’m new to learning the language!

Black lipstick will never be a sin, we’ll regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin

Everyone sat in the hospital’s waiting room, sick with worry. Logan had been injured in a hit-and-run, and no one had been able to sleep since the news that morning.

Virgil curled up against Patton, sniffling and wippng his eyes. Patton and Roman were openly sobbing, while Remus had his head in his hands and Dimirti buried his face in a pillow he’d brought.

A doctor came into the room, making Roman and Patton stand up, eager to hear good news. The doctor paused, making Virgil’s stomach drop.

“He’s resting now, and his right leg and left arm are broken, but he should be okay.” The doctor said kindly, smiling at the group. Roman let out another sob, and cried into Remus’ shirt in relief.

We're not bruised they're just party tattoos, and that colourful mess is just colourful regret!

Dimitri sighed, running an hand through his hair. In his hands, a pink slip laid, stating “You’re Fired” in big, bold, black letters.

His head hung in his hands, and he drew in a sharp breath to keep from crying.

He missed the days when his biggest worries were if he got an F on his English tests. Now his number one concern was whether or not he was going to be able to feed himself.

When did things get this bad?

Black lipstick will never be a sin, we'll regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin, regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin, regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin

His hands were covered in dirt, and his arms littered with scratches, and he was shirtless. Virgil drew in a deep breath, tears involuntarily making their way down his face.

The bathroom’s light flickered, and as he sat in the bathtub, having just woken up in the tub like a drunk.

A razor sat on the sink’s edge, and his fingers twitched to grab it. But tiredness was forcing his body to stay still, and he blinked.

He fell back asleep.

Write a postcard to you at eighty-four, tell them you'd never dream of living behind the door. Life was fun, full of love, full of hopeful smiles, bet you wish you were here, but I'll see you in a while

Remus glared at his brother, anger in his green-red eyes. “What the fuck, dude?” He yelled, cheek practically pulsating from the slap his brother had delivered.

The other glared back, “Don’t insult mom, dude. She doesn’t deserve that.” He snapped back.

Remus laughed, “And we didn’t deserve to be brought up by our monster of a dad, either! She could’ve left!” He said. Remus knew it was insensitive; and regretted it afterward, but right now he didn’t care.

Their mom was heartless bitch who knew she could leave, but didn’t. She ignored the abuse. Ignored the bruises that littered her “babies” like freckles. Ignored the screaming of her sons and husband, both so widely different; two filled with fear, one filled with unjust anger.

Roman stepped back, “It’s not that easy, Re. You know that.” And he did, he knew it, and Roman did too. “You could leave, too, Ro.”

His brother laughed humorlessly, a sadness to it. Remus felt his chest tighten. “No, I can’t.” Roman said, and then he returned home, and was forced to block Remus’ number.

And we're not bruised they're just party tattoos, and that colourful mess is just colourful regret!

Glasses framed his face, and he gasped as he woke up in the middle of the night, glasses tilted and hair messed up and spiked in different directions.

Logan looked around the dark room, and he curled up on his chair, his desk screwn with papers. A longing for something he couldn’t remember filled him, and he longed for someone to bring him a blanket and push him into bed.

Black lipstick will never be a sin, we'll regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin

Patton smiled at his son, “Bye, kiddo.” He said. Thomas laughed, “I’m 16, dad!” He said, grabbing his jacket before running to Joan’s car to get to school.

When Patton returned to the living room, Virgil was sat on the couch, “He gone?” The anxious man asked. Patton nodded, “Then lets get going! The guys are waiting, Pat.”

And when they all met up at the park like they did when they were young, nobody mentioned the pain in their chest of seeing their old picnic table gone.

We're not bruised they're just party tattoos, and that colourful mess is just colourful regret!

Roman sighed, looking out the window as his grandkids played with toys and watched TV. Oh how he missed being that young.

A sorrowful emotion filled his chest, but he just leaned against the back of his chair tiredly. His daughter, Anatolia, came in, only to see her father not breathing.

She screamed.

Black lipstick will never be a sin, we'll regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin, regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin, regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin

Six gravestones sat in a line, each one engraved with a different font to spell their owner’s names. Each one had a flower in front of the stone, an assigned color to each.

Roman Pryce Realeza, Remus Dugan Realeza, Dimitri Anwir Delaney, Logan Albert Berry, Patton Moha Morales, Virgil Parker Abadon

Silence reigned over the grave, a certain respect hanging in the air.

———

Names&Meanings:

Anatolia - A name meaning “Princess”

Roman:

Pryce - Close to the word “Prince”

Realeza - “Royalty” in Spanish (again, sorry if this is wrong)

Remus:

Dugan - (Kinda) Close to the word “Duke”

Realeza - “Royalty” in Spanish

Deceit:

Dimitri - A widely accepted human name for Deceit

Anwir - A name meaning “Lies” or something to that extent

Delaney - Searched “Last Names Meaning Lies” and glanced at the first name I saw

Logan:

Albert - A reference to Albert Enstein + the name meaning, to some extent, “Intelligence”

Berry - Crofters

Patton:

Moha - A name meaning “Giving Radiant Light To Everyone”

Morales - This name means “mulberry” but it also is “Son of Moral” (Pretty sure this name is hispanic to some extent, but Moral = Morality)