#AND I FORGOT HIS HAIR NOW HES JUST ONE OF THOSE BALD BABIES WITH THREE STRANds OF HAIR

[inveniree]

Do you like my shadow milk fanart

[mpregandproud]

Isaac (Part 6)

Although we met in the city while studying at the university, Sandra and I were born and raised in two small towns that were less than an hour apart. Coming to the hospital for our little girl was the perfect excuse to confront my parents once and for all and tell them the truth. Their son was dating a man, was already the father of a girl and was carrying three babies in his belly. I knew my mother would take it well because she would see me happy with Isaac, but I had more doubts with my father. Esther and Alfred, supported me when I told them, was it going to be different with my parents?

We parked in front of the house where I lived before moving to the city. The garden was impeccably tended, my father put hours into it, and the house, inside, would be sparkling, just the way my mother liked to have it. I didn't come from a wealthy family, but I never lacked for anything. It was a nice house and for me it meant bringing back a lot of memories.

I walked up the steps to the door and knocked on it three times like I did when I was little and forgot my keys when I left the house. I heard a commotion inside, I know my mother had recognized my knocking instantly. A clatter of footsteps came to the door and opened it. It was my father and mother on the other side. A chubby little woman with rosy cheekbones and curly hair. My father was taller, balding by now, though you could guess that as a young man he looked just like me right now. He was also sporty as a young man, but now he sported a big beer belly.

They hugged me, ate me up with kisses and ushered us inside. I'm sure they didn't notice Isaac and little Sandra, their attention was directed only to me. We sat in the living room and my father offered us beers. "Two guys as big as you have to have a good beer," he said. Typical comment from my father. He poured us the beers, while my mother put on some iced tea. My father and Isaac drank beer, but mine was untouched. "You're not going to drink?" he asked me in surprise. "Dad, I can't drink beer. I think it's time for us to talk," I said. My parents looked at each other in surprise and stood mute giving me their attention.

"Dad, Mom, this man who came with me is Isaac, my current partner," I dropped the first bombshell. Surprisingly there were no negative reactions, although my father didn't seem entirely comfortable. He was an old-fashioned man, yes, but I think he knew that Isaac made me too happy to blurt out an off-hand comment. "We've been together for almost five months now, I met him when I divorced Sandra. You could say I was introduced to him by cousin Alfred, and for me it was love at first sight. He's the man of my life, he's the one who makes me happy, who makes me feel safe, no one else understands me like he does. And he is the father of my children", it came naturally to me, without thinking about it, without giving it any more thought. It was one of those comments that sometimes you make and until you have not done it you do not value the consequences. Everything was going great, but I had to say it so bluntly. "The father of your children? Is this child your daughter?" my mother asked.

I told them the whole story of little Sandra and the sad passing of her brother and her mother, my ex-wife Sandra. And, of course, I told them that I was pregnant with triplets. They had taken it for granted that I had put on even more weight than the last time they had seen me, shortly after the divorce. My mother hugged us and started playing with little Sandra. I don't know if she understood everything, but for her everything was fine, her child was happy and she was going to be a multiple grandmother. My father was slow to react, but he did. "Are you happy like this, my son? Does this man make you happy?" he asked me. "Yes, very much, more than ever in my life," I replied very sure of my answer. "Then I have nothing more to say. I love you very much son," and he gave me a hug. Our bellies collided, it was already difficult to hug my father before I got pregnant, but with two prominent bellies in between it was complex, but we did it. "Isaac, welcome to the family. Thank you for making my son happy. I have never seen him so convinced of anything as he is now, not even when he told us he was going to marry Sandra. Today, finally, I saw him in love. I may not understand many things about gays, but I do understand my son's happiness, and for me that's the only thing that matters. Give me a hug!" he said and the two of them embraced each other tightly.

We decided to stay with them for a couple of days, so I could also take the opportunity to see my friends from high school and the soccer team and update them on the new Dan. My parents set up my old room for us, where dozens of my girlfriends passed through. Now there I was, lying in bed next to my boyfriend, pregnant and with Sandra's crib next to the bed. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined such a scene for my adult self.

That first night Isaac and I talked a lot, he told me how important it was for him that my parents welcomed him into their family as one of their own. When he came out when he was 18 in front of his family, they rejected him. He had a really hard time and since then he has no relationship with them. He went to the city to live, to study literature. He paid for his studies by working in bars where he met Bruce, Ken, Tom and Justin, his chosen family. He shared an apartment with them for many years and they were his emotional support to overcome the trauma with his parents. That night I understood better why his friends were so important to him. As for many gay teens, friends are the safe place when your family pushes you aside. I felt closer than ever to Isaac after that conversation, and also reconciled, in a way, with the image I had of my family.

The next few days I hung out with my soccer friends. Gary was now the coach of the local team, Lucas had moved back to town where he started a tech business, Samuel was working on his parents' farm, and Frank, who was a teenage father with Stephania, one of the prettiest girls in high school, opened a grocery store and was already the father of three girls. They were among the few players still in town. I met them for beers. Again, turning down a beer was the perfect excuse to tell my story. Everyone congratulated me and wanted to meet Isaac.

The surprise came when Lucas confessed to me that as a young man he was in love with me. Lucas, the most handsome boy in the whole team and the one who rejected one by one all the girls. When we were young we didn't understand why he said no to them, but now it all makes sense. Lucas had fallen in love in college with another guy and together they set up the tech business in town. They were engaged and would be married in a few months. "If we ever want to be parents, will you be our surrogate?" he asked jokingly. "You'll have to negotiate that with my lawyer," I told him.

Spending four days eating my mother's food was not the best thing for my belly. In four days I gained 10 more pounds. I already weighed 268 pounds. I had to buy new clothes in town because the ones Isaac packed in my suitcases were only good for him to get horny watching me expose my huge belly. My parents also gave us a lot of things for little Sandra, a crib, toys from when Esther and I were little and a lot of my sister's tiny clothes.

A week after we left home we were back in the city. Now we were one more, the house looked fuller than ever, but this was just the beginning. In just over four months I was due to give birth to our triplets. Our family was growing, and nothing made me happier than seeing it together.

Go to Part 7

[missinghan]

to my youth ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : summer au; high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 11,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slow burn

❖ summary : it is official that life hates you because not only was your first few days of summer ruined by a stupid field trip, but things also got somewhat freaky… whatever kind of ‘freaky’ you’re thinking about.

❖ note : i know i said i’m ‘experimenting’ with new stuff but guess who’s back with another mediocre, not-that-well-written mess of a domestic au; please (kindly) yell at me to dabble into a new genre after bearing through this fic- happy reading!

one.

The echoes of your summer days remain as flowers immune to the winter chill, they say.

You’re not entirely sure who even fathomed their time and effort to come up with that statement but from your point of view, those flowers would most likely have either died out from the summer heat or withered horrendously because of the arbitrary showers of rain. Or you’re the only one who doesn’t have the luxury to see life through a rose-colored lens.

Because the first thing that comes to mind for you is the bucket of ice-cream and a YouTube OG that you’ve ceased to finish since finals started two weeks ago. The bell rings, pens down, everyone pours out of the classroom after handing in their exam papers. No one really bothers to check up on each other’s answers anymore; the last subject for today was AP Psych and you don’t know about them but you honestly can’t care any less thereafter cramming the entirety of five chapters. 

Sprinting down the staircase, you easily spot Felix amongst the midst of drowsy high school students for the bright color of his hair. He truly believes that if he slaps enough hair essence and coconut oil on his head four times a week, his hair won’t feel like straws when he changes it every other three weeks. But it’s only a matter of time before balding catches up to him, he’ll learn eventually.

“Please don’t tell me that you left your keys in class,” you sigh upon the sight of him fumbling with his folders and textbooks while trying to open his locker in vain. Just thinking about walking all the way back to the third floor makes you want to use your backpack as a pillow and take a nice nap in the middle of the hallway.

“Gee, Y/N,” Felix makes a face to not show the sense of relief washing over him when he locks eyes with you. “Who do you take me as? A clumsy person?”

“No, just a dumbass.” You coldly snatch a slipping book from his arms before turning to twist the disc in the combination of your birthday until the lock clicks, shaking the shackle off to swing his locker open. It’s a silent tradition that you both set each other’s birthday as your locker’s combination since elementary school; it started out as a stupid joke at first but neither of you really bothered to change it. 

“Why the hell would you put your keys in the locker?” you widen your eyes in disbelief as he grabs the bright yellow Spongebob plushie to collect his keys with a shit-eating grin

“My alarm didn’t go off today, so I was running a little late,” he defends himself while dumping everything out of his backpack, hugging an empty water bottle to his side. 

You throw a wave at a very tired Hyunjin walking side by side with Seungmin on his right and Jisung skipping happily towards your direction. Seungmin looks exceptionally moody today, you pray he didn’t mess up an easy question to take it out on all of you later in the car. “Bet you were staying up late to play Overwatch with Chan.” 

Felix manages to grin stiffly at your comment, turning on his heels and trudges onto the school’s parking lot. “Fine, walk home.” 

“Hey, you forgot to lock this!” you pull his steps into a halt by making a grab for his hand, utterly oblivious at how his cheeks flare up with a bright shade of red at your touch. Or out of embarrassment. Whatever, same thing. 

Felix might be a better driver than you, but he’d be fired ten seconds into the job of a babysitter.

With that being said, when Jeongin decides it’s a good idea to cheer a passive-aggressive, post-exams Seungmin up with a carton of strawberry milk and then proceeds to get lost in his own school, the very same school he’s been attending for who knows how long, you’re the one who manually pulls his ass back into Mrs. Lee’s Jeep within ten minutes. 

And Seungmin has already fallen asleep by the time Jeongin’s back, so now he’s the passive-aggressive one while sipping on the milk bitterly. Either way, this is why you headcount although there are only six of you after Changbin starts getting busy with his college applications. 

“What took you so long?” Jisung looks up from his phone the moment you climb into the passenger’s seat, clicking in your seatbelt (drive safe, kids). 

You immediately feel the need to snap a photo of Jeongin accidentally breaking the cafeteria’s door with the staff running towards him in a panic. They’re more scared for his life than the door itself and that’s… sweet to say the least but with the way that the embarrassed boy is glaring at you through the rear-view mirror, you decide to keep your lips sealed. 

“It’s getting dark so all hallways start to look the same, you genius.”

Jisung momentarily sticks his tongue out at you. “God, you’re so rude to me. You’d never talk to Felix like that.”

“Because,” you drawl. “Lix is a pure-hearted angel descended from the realms of Heaven. Whereas, even Lucifer would see you as an eyesore in hell.”

“See! You’re doing it again!” Jisung points a finger at you in accusation, jumping up and down in his seat but no one really cares. It’s not like you’re speaking any false facts. “Stop bullying me!”

Seungmin shifts his body a little, nose scrunched up at the noises that wake him right up. “Jisung,” he warns his friend without opening his eyes. “Sit the fuck down, you have five seconds.”

Felix smirks when Jisung immediately cowers, slumping and leaning himself against Hyunjin in utter defeat. He learned not to mess with Seungmin after throwing a wallet at him on impulse. “Jealous much, Han?” 

“Nah, she’s all yours bro,” Jisung waves it off tiredly; bickering and making fun of Felix’s gigantic crush on you is too much for his brain to process today. He can really use a long, solid twelve-hour summer hibernation after getting home. 

The statement prompts Felix to look over at you when there’s a red light—the same exact moment as you stop staring at the bakery from across the road to lock eyes with him. There’s a little spark igniting at the pit of his stomach, stirring up butterflies inside his rib cage. But he snaps out of it after seeing you raise a brow at him, implying a silent ‘what?’ before turning away again. Felix has always been the type to stare so you don’t bother to think about it too much. 

The problem is: he only stares at you that way. 

A shade of coral creeps its way up to his cheeks, his gaze averting back on the roads when the light turns green. As Felix tries to calm the erratic tempo of his heartbeat, he also thinks about how much time he’d have left to confess before high school is over and everyone takes their own different paths. Then again, the future is far too blurry for him to make out anything and the thought of changes petrifies him a bit too much. 

Felix wishes to hold your hand until the very end but he’s a little scared...because what if you never wanted to be with him in the first place?

two.

Your brother has one talent, and that’s his ability to irritate the living daylight out of you even when he’s practically on the other side of the planet.

Minho (un)fortunately finished his finals with flying colors, and inevitably, you’re the first victim to receive a series of texts that consisted of nothing but self-indulgent, excessive bragging. Basically, he’s allowed to do whatever slash go wherever for a good three weeks before his summer internship begins, dragging his dumb ass back to hell—where he rightfully belongs. 

He’s probably chomping on a terribly unhealthy amount of pizza, pretzels, and any type of New York street food that you can name from the top of your head. It’s not like he’s paying for them anyway since Chan doesn’t allow people to touch their wallets if they happen to eat out with him. 

Your phone vibrates obnoxiously on your desk, the judder slightly muffled because it’s lying on top of your wide-open psych textbook. You haven’t bothered with cleaning up yet; finals only ended yesterday and you decide that you won’t touch anything until the disarray starts to scrape against your nerves. 

Side note: you’ve specifically told everyone not to call you three consecutive days after finals because yes, you’re that much of a loner, and yes, your stamina level for tolerating human interaction is awfully low. 

Second side note: no one ever listens. 

“Good morning, this is Lee Minho’s personal bullshit pail,” you mumble after your thumb swipes against the screen to pick up, your limbs curled up on the floor. “How can I possibly help you today?” Your morning voice isn’t necessarily threatening but rather scary; according to what Minho claimed, it sounds identical to that creepy girl from The Grudge so he groans aloud, his voice suddenly going out of focus on the other line from pulling his phone away.

“Jesus Christ are you still in your hermit phase after finals?” he questions callously, sounding not at all pleased with the way you greeted him. “Where’s mom and dad? Usually, they would have slammed your ass by now for staying inside like a vampire.”

“Don’t be insufferable, it’s only like…” you trail off while bending forward to take a good look at the little Sumiko Gurashi alarm on your bookshelf that Felix gave you during middle school. “Nine thirty-something and they’re at the park to exercise, duh- why do you care?”

Your brother almost sings on the phone, “Because you’re my little baby sister-” And this prompts you to pull the device away for the sake of your poor ear. It doesn’t help when you’re already surrounded by a group full of obnoxiously loud individuals on a daily basis. Not trying to call anyone out but Han Jisung is at the top of the list, his name in bold, capital letters being circled and underlined multiple times with a red marker.

“Who do I gotta kill to sleep in on a dreadful Sunday morning as any normal, cranky, antisocial high school student would?” you deadpan and rub the bridge of your nose dreadfully. 

“I don’t know, go murder Jisung or something.” Honestly, that’s tempting… but no.

You can physically see the smug smile on his face right now, simpering in delight at your imminent misery. He knows goddamn well about your relationship with sleeping schedules and that’s the perfect excuse for him to ruin those little specks of time when your brain cells are getting an actual break. 

These are also the times when you wish phones don’t fucking exist. 

“By the way, are you gonna go on the field trip tomorrow?” 

This question wakes you up almost completely because your eyes are now wide as a fish’s out of water, your hand automatically putting him on speaker before digging through the folders inside your backpack. What field trip? No one said anything about a field trip. And who thought it’s a good idea to force some worn-out, post-exams, sleep-deprived students into a field trip right after finals?

Minho hums coyly when the only response he’s getting is the rustling sound from your backpack, “Hmm, see what I meant there, little sis? Oh, the downside of living under a rock at its finest.” He doesn’t have to be here for you to fully picture the way that his lips curl up, dark brows wiggling whenever he’s right about something. Your brother wins most of the time against other people but overtaking you is an entirely different story.

“Oh screw off and go buy yourself a sense of humor.”

“Don’t be so mopey, isn’t Felix gonna be there?”

“What does Felix have to do with this?” you grit after managing to pull out a piece of paper from the very back, buried under countless of your essays. And it reads ‘field trip’ in caps at the top with tomorrow’s date right beneath. The trip lasts for three days, you’re going camping with the grizzly bears for three days—a total nightmare, basically. 

“Pfft, you’re actually dense for someone with a sparkly report card,” he sneers. “That kid has been crushing on you since elementary school. Are the signals that fucked up?”

“You mean when I accidentally spilled orange juice over his head? Sure, bet that’s why he’s so head over heels for me,” you snicker, unfazed by these kinds of statements. Minho only knows Felix because he was the president of your school's dance club and you fully believe that your brother is simply trying to mess with your malfunctioning, cranky mindset. 

“I fucking beg to differ, he always stares at you like you’re the love of his life, even when you stupidly poked yourself with a needle,” Minho announces as if he’s a love expert, tsk, amateur. “He might just confess during the trip, who knows? Campfire flickering. Sharing the same s’mores. Surrounded by nature. That sounds romantically ideal to me for a confession.”

He’s visioning everything like a terrible cliché film where two high schoolers stubbornly deny their feelings for each other until they start noticing how cute the other person is while magically being forced to be alone together. The worst kind of high school movie—which is also almost every high school movie. And you best believe that you’d a hundred percent kick your brother’s ass off that director’s chair because people live and breathe for this kind of overused entertainment. Tragic. 

“Alright, fuck this, I’m out-“

“Wait!” Minho exclaims out of nowhere, almost blowing up your eardrums. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

You swear you’re rolling your eyes so hard, they’re about to fall out of their respective sockets. “Well, obviously,” you put the piece of paper down with a sigh, contemplating ways to minimize the amount of socializing in the upcoming three days. “Haven’t you bothered me enough? No?”

“You can’t leave me like this,” he whines in an annoyingly high-pitched voice that sends chills down your spine. 

“You need me, we’re connected.” 

He sounds like a whack version of Minnie Mouse for a second there, the kind of plushie that looks cute but with disturbingly creepy voice audio; no parents would let their children go near that aisle. 

You yawn as if there’s no tomorrow, stretching your limbs tiredly. “What I need is for you to shut the fuck up and leave me alone so I can go on my merry way to pick up snacks for this stupid field trip,” you utter lifelessly. 

“You hurt my feelings,” Minho pretends to clutch onto his chest and lets out a dramatic gasp, his voice doused in pure sarcasm. “What a heartbreaker, Y/N.” Said the one who always keeps his apathetic front up like a fortress’ wall and tosses every single love letter on Valentine’s Day into the recycling bin, handing the chocolate out to his classmates like he’s giving leftover vegetables to his least favorite relatives.

“Oh, I can tell,” you reply with fake enthusiasm and mock empathy. “You know how I can tell?”

“Do not finish th-”

“Cause we’re connected.” With that you hang up, slamming your phone harshly onto the surface of your textbook. 

three. 

You might love your room a little too much, it’s getting somewhat unhealthy.

It was furnished with a rather meager budget after your family moved out of your hometown when you stepped into elementary school. Things stay the same, well, most of it as time passes by you unknowingly. Your sad bookcase used to exist for one sole purpose—carrying countless books and plushies has now been upgraded with too many polaroids of your dumb group of friends, a neatly framed photo of Class of 2020 and two trophies that don’t even belong to you since Minho ran out of space as he kept participating in random dance competitions. 

The morning beams find their way through your white curtains and stain your walls with patches of yellow, eventually bugging your vision until you successfully convince yourself to either 1) wake up and get ready for school or 2) lazily stride across your room to shut the blinds completely so you can head back to bed. It’s summer… so option one is temporarily non-existent for a solid three months. 

Hey, you’re just simply making up for those all-nighters with a new cup of coffee every two hours.

Speaking of your bed, it’s soft but takes up so much space to the point that Hyunjin keeps complaining about not having enough room for his legs when he’s sprawled across the floor with Jisung, vigorously focusing on a presentation’s outline. Seungmin calls you lame for not throwing away your childhood plushies and letting them hog at least one-third of your bed, but Felix doesn’t mind since he always needs something to hug. All the more reasons why you can only trust Felix.

You might miss having those idiots being loud and invading your personal space...maybe.

Your phone rings for the second time that morning when you’re walking downstairs, shoving your keys into your pocket and grabbing a protein bar on the counter. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Minho,” you bark into the device, chewing on your breakfast aggressively, not bothering to look at the caller’s ID.

The closest convenience store is only twenty minutes away from your house but there’s a sticky note on the fridge from your mom, reminding you that she needs eggs to bake cupcakes for her company’s twentieth anniversary while your dad is running low on his Red Bulls. Basically, you’re in distress. It’s not like your dad should be inhaling those sugary drinks on a daily basis and your mom can just buy premade goods from the bakery. But there are more options for snacks at the supermarket…

“Y/N, the fuck?” The response of a voice as deep as the Pacific ocean almost makes you choke on air. “Did I wake you up or something?” Felix sounds flabbergasted on the other line, slightly taken aback. You almost feel bad because he’s the only sweetheart in your chaotic squad (besides Chan, obvi) except when he stays up late gaming with Hyunjin, pleading for your notes the next morning with puppy eyes.

“No, Minho did,” you grumble before tossing the wrapping into a bin.

“You don’t say,” Felix replies flatly, but his voice soon grows merry again after pushing the topic of your brother aside. “Oh, and I’m coming over to return your earphones, wanna grab breakfast?”

He practically lives ten minutes away from you, sees you almost every day even if it’s the weekend since he can’t stay in the same house with his sisters for too long and puts you on FaceTime every night to prevent himself from slacking off on assignments. The only time he didn’t get to see you for a week straight was when he visited Australia and accidentally dropped his phone into the ocean. It was a rough week without you nagging him for doing something stupid. Fundamentally, he’s merely making up more excuses to spend time with you after finals.

Chuckling, “Only if you’re treating me, I’m about to go broke from buying snacks for our field trip tomorrow.” you say breezily. 

And you’re only telling him that because he might just pay for your snacks as well since Felix Lee eats freshly grilled steak and mashed potato for breakfast. Baffling, absolutely. Plus, he works at a boba shop every summer either way and he would never hesitate to spend the entirety of his paycheck on any of his close friends. Irrelevant but the point is: you kinda don’t wanna go out alone today.

Or you’re just in the mood to go with Felix. That’s a useless statement since you both see each other at least ten out of twenty-four hours per day. 

“By the way, you know what I just realized?” Felix smacks his palm on his forehead. “This is our last field trip, like ever.”

Walking over to the rack of shoes down the hallway, you let out a large exhale. “That’s unfortunate on your behalf. I, on the other hand, don’t have a problem with that,” you tell him with zero consideration, your brain cells too busy picking out a pair of shoes to process the five basic steps to empathize with another human being. 

“No,” he emphasizes helplessly. “I meant, it’s like our last high school field trip. We’re graduating next year, no time to sleep with the grizzly bears again.”

You can only manage to utter, “Oh.” Shit, college is right around the corners. 

“Jesus fucking Christ what the hell am I supposed to do after high school? Stay here? Go abroad? Wait, aren’t applications for going abroad supposed to be turned in a year beforehand? Why are you only telling me this now!?” 

Felix laughs wholeheartedly through the phone, amused at your sudden outburst. “Y/N, calm down. You’re going to college, not prison,” he brushes it off casually but in a way, college is technically prison. Slaving over a degree while working part-time jobs, chasing time relentlessly like you’re driving in the middle of a foggy night with one headlight out. And you’re forced to open up with more strangers. It’s terrifying, actually terrifying. And you’re not the type to be easily terrified. 

Now come to think about it, you don’t get why you were so pressed about it five seconds ago. It’s a good opportunity not to leech off your parents as much, like dabbling, taking one baby step at a time into adulthood. After that, you’ll graduate again, probably settle somewhere with an adequate job and find someone, starting to think about having ki-

Hold up, you’re going too far. You’re barely a senior. 

“I guess we’ll just have to make the most out of this summer,” Felix’s voice snaps you back to the surface of Earth faster than a tick of a clock. “We’re outside, by the way. Open up.”

That fast? Furrowing your brows, you hang up to slip into a pair of sneakers before sprinting to the front door. Wait, your hand freezes as it grazes the doorknob. We?

Not again. 

“Why the fuck..” you cracks a lifelessly crooked smile after pushing the door wide open. “..are you here?” It’s only ten in the morning, and you don’t think you should be screaming at the top of your lungs to be jumped on by the whole neighborhood.

Felix takes a step back, a little scared for his life. “Uhh, to return your earphones?”

“No, no,” you run a hand through your hair tiredly. Just when you thought this day was gonna be peaceful. “I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about them. Since when was this an agreement? How dare-“

“Why yes, I missed you too!” Jisung exclaims like the little shit he is, throwing an arm over your neck to ruffle your hair. No one ruffles your hair without getting their ass slammed- except for Minho. “Why the long face? Let me guess, until this exact second, you thought there’s a fucking squirrel, a lama, a dog, and a kitten standing at your front porch? No, it’s us, your Forever BFFs.” He’s one of the reasons why you refuse to understand the humans’ language sometimes.

With a harsh shove from you, Jisung staggers backward only for Hyunjin to prevent him from rolling like a ball in the middle of your neighborhood. “One more word and I’m telling the whole class who your crush is,” you threaten, earning an involuntary snort from Seungmin. 

“I hate to admit this, but she might actually say yes if he makes the first move.”

Hyunjin supplies unconstructively, “That’s why he didn’t ask.”

“You know what, Hwang,” Felix says with a smirk tugging at his lips, bumping his fist against Hyunjin’s without turning his head. 

“Oh screw all of you.” Jisung’s getting all the attention he wanted this early in the morning yet he still feels like a loser. Perhaps he should try shutting up once in a while. 

four.

“Thanks for giving me a ride, uncle, you really didn’t have to,” Felix says generously from your dad’s back seats, scratching the nape of his neck as though this is the first time he’s ever shared a ride with you. 

He’s too humble sometimes you just want to smack him across the face with a pillow to stop being so formal with your dad. Heck, Felix downright called him ‘dad’ by accident once during a Christmas dinner back in middle school and your dad even encouraged him to keep addressing him like that. 

Not to mention, Felix is chomping on a turkey sandwich that your mom made this morning specifically for him after finding out that his parents are currently out of town and there's nothing but ramen in the cabinet. God forbids her to starve the same kid who helped your dad fix his bumper. So really, he should be expecting these things by now. 

“Oh it’s not a big deal, you’re too nice,” your dad laughs as he pulls over to your school’s front gate, careful not to run into that one really tall, ugly tree. You’re lowkey paranoid that people might die if it collapses during a storm or something. “Perhaps you can return the favor by getting a drink with me sometimes.”

Felix blinks numerous times, slightly gobsmacked. “...but I’m not old enough to drink yet.”

“Correct answer.” And you snicker when your dad turns around to toss a wink at your friend’s direction. “Doesn’t mean that I’m forbidding you kids have fun,” he clarifies upon the baffled expression on Felix’s face. “But not too much fun, got it?”

“Okay, okay dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you shake your head before climbing out of the car. “Don’t starve the cats while I’m gone. Oh! And Soonie still needs his lactobacillus-“

Your dad brushes it off with a sheepish smile, “I’ll leave it to your mom, muffin, I can’t even remember which dry food is for which cat. I also don’t think they’ll be starving anytime soon, those little demons are getting quite fat actually since your brother spoils them all the time.” You can only give him a mere eye-roll because as much as he claims to hate having pets, there have been countless times when you caught your dad red-handed trying to tuck the cats into bed in the middle of the night. 

Felix soon catches up with your steps after bidding him farewell, crumpling the sandwich wrapper in his palm. “Wait up, muffin,” he says breathlessly with a few skips, starting to think about not skipping dance practice again this summer before his body gets out of shape. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, followed by a harsh elbow jabbed into his side. Felix grunts in pain, slowing down a little but still tries to walk side by side with you nonetheless. “You don’t deserve that complimentary breakfast, I’m telling mom to cut your portion off next time.” 

“Ah! Come on, muffin! You’re being mean.”

Your biggest fear has inevitably come true—after all those years of erratic mood swings and other weird things puberty puts you through, Felix still makes fun of you for the nickname that your parents came up with on your first day of school. It doesn’t help with the fact that he meets them quite often too. Like four out of seven days a week since your parents love coming over to each other’s house for dinner. 

“Flip that scowl upside down now, will you?” Felix cups your cheeks and squishes them together, attempting to make your smile by tugging at the corners of your lips. “Aren’t you excited about the trip?”

You scoff at him, “Are you even hearing yourself? My entire existence reeks off ‘excitement’ 24/7.” 

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m not responsible for whatever happens next to your face.”

But when you reach up to peel his hands away, you’re bound to make a grave mistake by looking straight into his eyes. The morning light hits his face at the right angle and it makes him look like a puppy—which you wouldn't mind starting at all day. Although it’s not like you haven’t got a good look at him before, something’s different today. From the way his irises twinkle gently like thousands of celestial bodies to how his freckles scattered across his cheekbones like the remaining bits from a supernova, his full lips with a prominent Cupid’s bow and his cute crooked teeth. 

You know all of these things; perhaps you’ve never put too much thought into them before. Not when you’re constantly facepalming at him for doing stupid TikTok dances and trying to eat a banana with its peel on. But now when you actually acknowledge them, your heart momentarily skips a beat. Or two. 

Doesn’t matter, you hate this feeling either way. 

“Get a room, this is disgusting to watch.” 

Seungmin steps in between you two with his backpack slung over his shoulders, hands resting on his hip like he’s babysitting you and your biological parents don’t pay him enough for this tedious job. But Felix is too busy making sure that his eyes aren’t malfunctioning when he sees a pink tint on your cheeks to focus on whatever nonsense Seungmin is spewing at him. 

“Get on the bus, losers! Y’all are embarrassing me!” Hyunjin yells as he plants a foot onto the bus, trying his best not to be subtle about the fact that all of your classmates have already been seated. 

You can practically see Jisung making weird faces from the window and next to him is a very cranky-looking Jeongin with his earbuds plugged in, deciding not to tolerate any chit-chatting this morning. It’s a shame how the school’s always on a low budget when it comes to transportation; consequently, some random freshmen got squeezed in with your class. 

So you elect to ignore your friend’s questionable behaviors (sometimes you wonder what he’s on to be this zealous at six in the morning) and grabs Felix's hand to climb onto the vehicle before coach Kim kicks your ass for slowing the schedule down. 

As you shuffle down the narrow aisle, you quickly realize there are only two seats left at the very back—basically, you feel a little guilty for not getting a good spot for Felix but he doesn’t seem to mind because he taps you on the shoulder lightly, signaling for you to move.

“Ugh, I wanna go home,” you sigh, slumping into your seat after tucking your backpack neatly on the small compartment above. 

“You’re boring,” Felix comments flatly but he’s partially glad that he got to sit with you instead of some blabberer. “Need this?” Fishing his earphones out of his backpack, he wiggles the banana milk case in front of your face. 

You only nod lazily at the offer, causing him to huff in disbelief before slipping in a side of his AirPods into your ear. You both have pretty similar taste in music so you don’t mind when he puts one of his playlists on random and Fly Me to the Moon bleeds into your eardrums. The soft melody makes you yawn a little, eyelids getting droopy. 

“Tired.” Is the only warning Felix gets before you decide to drop your head onto his shoulders, slipping your arm around his torso comfortably like it’s a pillow. You personally don’t do cuddles but since he’s into those things and smells nice—very fruity, somewhat musky too, you might as well take advantage of that with the hope of sleeping throughout the entire ride. 

“What is wrong with you today?” he asks with glowing cheeks. 

“Shh shh, I’m recharging my battery.”

Felix is a little flustered, to say the least. But instead of complaining about your sudden clinginess, he rests his head on top of yours like second nature, allowing his childhood song to drown out some of the background chatters. 

You should really be clingy more often… though he’s not gonna risk his pearly white teeth by telling you that. 

five. 

Your school actually knows how to manage money in a smart way. Shocker, you know. 

You are thrown off upon hearing that no one needs to worry about the grizzly bears, or wolves (hey, one can never be too careful) because everyone gets to share a log cabin with a maximum of three other people. 

In fact, the camp counselors have confirmed that even though they’re throwing a bunch of inexperienced, dumb high schoolers smacked in the middle of the wilderness, there’s really nothing to do other than boring team-building exercises...and fishing. In other words, the only creature that can somewhat do harm to you is mosquitoes. 

It’s been pouring nonstop when your classmates tried to set up the campfire with coach Kim screaming into their eardrums last night, no wonder those little shit are thriving to make your life more miserable—they’re in their element, reproducing at a terrifying pace. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” 

Hyunjin clutches a hand to his chest in both relief and terror after realizing the curled up figure sitting by the window is just you. He steps inside the cabin completely and flings his wet bangs away from his face, shoving the umbrella in his hand into a stand by the shoe rack. “You look like shit, are you okay?” he furrows his brows, slightly concerned about your eyebags and the way your lips crack from dehydration.

A soulless smile finds its way to your face. “I’m pretty sure ‘shit’ and ‘okay’ aren’t supposed to be in the same sentence but thank you for asking, I appreciate it.”

Here’s another downside to being a homebody: you can’t fucking sleep on any other beds that aren’t yours. And surprisingly that two-hour nap on the bus wasn’t enough to fuel you for the rest of the trip. But lucky you, it’s most likely going to keep raining cats and dogs and trash pandas for the rest of the day. Outdoor activities are no longer mandatory and you can almost hear your non-existent muscles crying in sheer joy. 

“Drink,” Hyunjin sighs at your pathetic state and decides to toss a water bottle in your direction. 

However, all you do is retrieve your limbs deeper into Felix’s fluffy blanket since he refused to use the grey one that’s draped over every bed beforehand. You’re far beyond grateful for that because those fading, questionable-looking stains just scare the crap out of you. And also because the fluffy blanket smells like him; you rest your case.

“You were knocked out for the entire bus ride, so why the hell can’t you fall asleep on a decent bed?” Shaking his head, Hyunjin plops himself onto Jisung’s bed like a potato, accidentally knocking over the neatly folded pile of clothes. He really doesn’t give two flying fucks about the fact that his friend spent an excessive ten minutes to organize his stuff so coach Kim won’t be barging into their cabin with a megaphone at five in the morning again. 

“She can only fall asleep on Felix, that’s why.” You roll your eyes in the bitchiest way possible, not bothering to chuck the abandoned water bottle at the unwanted guest of this terrific conversation. 

Hyunjin almost lets out a shriek when Seungmin jolts up from his bed, hair messy, a leg sticking out from his comforter. “You know, until this exact moment, I thought that you were dead or something.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Seungmin elaborates as he bends over to reach for his glasses with squinted eyes. “There’s a 99,9% that Felix will make the first move but at the same time, it doesn’t mean the other 0,01% won’t happen so you,” he jabs his index finger towards you. “Better be doing something other than walking around camp like a zombie.”

Hyunjin tilts his head in confusion. “Since when was this even a thing?” You’re this close to have a permanent hand imprint on your forehead for facepalming every two seconds with your idiotic friends around. 

“Uhh, since forever?” Seungmin feels the need to voice out. “Listen, since the day Y/N spilled orange juice on Felix’s favorite shirt, the amount of times they’re forced to be together has risen tremendously. And when their parents found out their families live like ten minutes away from each other, they practically see each other every single day. Even outside of school. They tolerate each other, meaning the dynamic is long-lasting. Their bonding encouraged friendship.” 

“But we’re her friends too?”

A deep breath. “No, their friendship was incited to grow into something bigger, more profound because Felix has a special ‘click’ with Y/N that he doesn’t with us. God, Hyunjin, it’s been what, almost a decade! How could you not see it?” Seungmin says with expressive hands, almost yanking every strand of hair off of his head. It’s too early for this, his brain is about to implode. Hwang Hyunjin being dense just feels like a metaphoric chokehold to him. 

“Y/N,” Hyunjin simply ignores his frustrated friend to look over at you slipping into your sneakers. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“That’s because she’s about to either shut the door in my face then find Felix or kick my ass and then find Felix,” Seungmin informs with a yawn, and this prompts you to muster a fake smile. 

Oh, I’m fucking livid. 

“You know me too well.”

He questions with heavy irony, “I’m sorry did you just agree with me?”

“Oh no, no, I take that back,” you brush him off. “Is Felix still outside fishing?”

“I think so?” Hyunjin replies while running a hand through his hair in mere distress; Felix’s competitiveness goes a little mayhem sometimes when it comes to Jisung being better than him at something since they’re so close. That’s one of the sole reasons why Felix always manages to maintain his flying GPA because Han Jisung procrastinates like no other but still tops his class every single semester. 

“I didn’t find him at the lake, though, wonder where he went.”

You widen your eyes, somewhat alarmed since it’s almost lunchtime, and Felix Lee never, and you mean never, ever let himself skip a meal. He always gets a nice nap after stuffing his face with enough good food too, so that’s a bonus. But that’s not the point, the point is: you’re starting to get a little worried because he’s been fishing all morning, wandering alone in the wilderness without a camp counselor. 

You’d better not find him sleeping with the fishes. 

six.

Maybe you were right, maybe Felix is a dumbass.

Because listening to his ego and coming back to the lake after breakfast was a horrendous idea. 

It’s such a pity how those weird-looking vehicles have stopped driving around camp the moment it started pouring outside. Heck, he didn’t even bring an umbrella after asking the coach to check today's forecast. 

So tragically, he’s now stuck underneath the canopy of a cafe ensuing coursing his way through the water blizzard and seeking refuge but can’t walk back to his cabin where his cabin-mates are probably having the time of their life drinking hot chocolate and nibbling on hand-picked fruits.

Felix exhales in torment while gazing outside, everything’s completely white-out thanks to droplets of raining streaking the horizon. Perhaps dashing back might be his one solitary option, but shivers soon run up his spine again, reminding him that he’s probably looking like a wet rat—his black Converse sodden, water seeping through the thin fabric of his uniform, numbing his skin. 

Ruffling his wet fringe, Felix’s hand fishes inside his pocket to look for his phone only to realize that it’s not there. “Shit...great..just great, today is my lucky day.” Even if the camp counselors didn’t confiscate all the electronic devices, there wouldn’t be any service in the middle of the woods either. Splendid. 

“Ugh, Y/N,” he groans under his breath. “Why did you let me do this?”

“Shit.”

 “AHH!”

Felix shrieks upon the tiny voice squeaking out from behind him. And he sighs in pure relief to see a little girl standing mere inches away, looking no more than a seven-year-old dressed in a yellow raincoat. “Hey kid,” he chuckles and crouches down to her eye level. “Where are your parents? You’re not supposed to be out here alone when it’s pouring like crazy.” 

And to his dismay, “Shit,” the little girl giggles, finding a new profound interest in the curse word that he accidentally spewed out seconds ago. 

“Shh shh,” Felix frantically places an index finger on his lips while darting his eyes around in terror—he might be sued if her parents found out how their daughter picked up a bad word from some random high schooler. Suddenly he feels bad for his future kids. “No, no, we can’t say that. It’s forbidden. What’s your name?”

“Mina,” she answers cutely and fiddles with the ends of her braids. “Who’s Y/N? Is she your girlfriend?”

Felix chokes on his own saliva. “...no, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, my dad always calls my mom’s name when he messes things up.”

“What does that have to do with- oh, shit,” he facepalms himself. This kid is going to give him a cardiac arrest any second now. “It doesn’t matter if she’s my girlfriend or not, what matters is I need to get you back to your parents. Do you know where they are right now?”

Mina simply shakes her head with a pout. “Okay, let’s go find them then,” he can’t help but cracks a smile, ruffling her hair endearingly. Most kids would be bawling their eyes out by now knowing that they’ve strayed from their parents; she’s a tough one. 

Felix gently grabs Mina’s hand, biting down on his lower lip as he prays that a cold doesn’t catch up to him tomorrow and ready to dash out of the canopy that’s been keeping him dry for the last hour or two. But then a figure comes into view from afar, holding an umbrella while squinting their eyes through the thick streaks of rain. 

“Y/N..?” he mutters to himself in disbelief when you quickly skip underneath the canopy, collapsing the red umbrella in your hands. Felix recognizes that umbrella anywhere—isn’t that Hyunjin’s? Have you been looking for him? And for how long too?

“Didn’t even think about bringing an umbrella, smartass,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “Oh dear, who do we have here?” Before Felix can defend himself in vain with lame excuses, you’ve already taken your attention off him to stare at the unfamiliar presence. Your intense gaze scares Mina a little, causing the little girl to squeeze Felix’s hand, hiding behind his leg. 

Your friend laughs, patting her little head in reassurance. “Mina, this is Y/N, my classmate. Don’t let her intimidate you.”

“Are you really going to bother with this little one?” you scrunch your nose a bit. “We’re having pork rib soup, by the way, better hurry if you don’t want Han to hog your portion all to himself.”

Felix rolls his eyes at how utterly apathetic you are towards children. If you can get a perfect A in calc then why is it so hard to simply comprehend that every twelve-year-old needs to be returned to their hypothetical parents safely? “What part of ‘a common sense of morality’ can’t you understand?” 

“I don’t want to, actually, sounds like a lot of work,” you hum sarcastically. 

“Your girlfriend is scary,” Mina ensconces herself further behind your friend, officially detecting you as a threat rather than someone who will potentially bring her back to the cabin where her parents are probably flipping the whole place upside down in a panic—which is exactly what you’re planning to do. 

In your defense, you don’t detest kids in general. Only the bratty ones. And Mina is borderline bratty. 

“You know, I can spare her some time, Lost and Found is like..ten minutes away from here.”

“Y/N-” Felix wants to scream at you, rubbing the side of his temple in distress. Imagining you babysitting your neighbor’s newborn last summer with nine bucks per hour, ten hours per day, and five out of seven days per week is one of the few things that constantly keeps him from having a good night's sleep. It baffles him how you haven’t accidentally drowned the infant while giving her a bath. 

Mina gives the side of his jeans a tug, round eyes staring up at him expectantly. “Or we can get juice pops!” she exclaims happily and looks over to you, mustering her best puppy eyes. “Please? I don’t want to be alone..” 

“Twenty seconds ago, you called me scary and now you’re guilt-tripping me?” you crouch down to get a good look at the kid. Bright, innocent brown eyes, cute button nose, and a chipped front tooth—perhaps she’s a little too cute to not get her juice pops. 

Then, “And juice pops too? You evil mad mind genius,” you say after standing up to unfold Hyunjin’s umbrella, swinging it over the top of your head. “That’s extortion, kid, you’re too young for that.”

Felix breaks into a fit of giggles upon seeing you failing at trying to keep a straight face and steps in beside you under the umbrella. His next problem just pops up right then and there—Mina can’t squeeze in considering the umbrella that Hyunjin gave you is solely used for one person. 

“Mina, hop on here,” he decides to get on his knees, permitting the little girl to clumsily climb on his back and eventually plopping herself onto his shoulders. 

“Oh, oh, oh, can you two hold hands?” Mina suggests with a shit-eating grin on her face. This causes Felix’s cheeks to burn with a bright shade of red while you’re too busy throwing daggers at her with your eyes to notice. “My family does this all the time, my dad would carry me on his shoulders and my mom would hold his hand as we walk home after going to the park.”

You and Felix yell simultaneously, “We’re not your parents!!” But that doesn’t seem to scare the little girl. You’re both just encouraging her. 

“Yip yip, horsey, don’t be disobedient now,” she giggles to herself and pulls at a solid patch of Felix’s hair, making you cringe because his hair and scalp have already had enough from his questionable obsession with bright hair colors. 

“Ow! Mina! Stop it! Ow!”

“Okay quit torturing my friend,” you tell her and decide to slip your hand in with Felix’s, intertwining your fingers to secure the grip before showing it to Mina so that she’ll stop before any blood is drawn. “There, we’re holding hands just like your mommy and daddy, you happy?” 

Felix doesn’t say anything even when Mina nods happily, releasing her monstrous grip off his poor scalp. He only lets you tug him away from the canopy of the cafe as he gazes downward, eyes glued to how your hand fits into his perfectly. The sound of rain tapping against the umbrella suddenly bugs him, suffocating him in a way. In other words, it’s really unnatural to think this way about his best friend but he doesn't want you to let go at all. 

Everything seems to move faster when you’re holding onto his hand so certainly. Felix thinks you’re fully aware but try to fight off the voices that are taunting you to just drop it. And truth is, you can care less because your head is now far too fuzzy to focus on anything but the road ahead. 

You pray he doesn’t feel the pounding rhythm from your veins. If your red ears haven’t given it away already. 

seven.

Jisung has weird friends, that’s a fact. And no, you’re not talking about the gang that saved his ass every time he got into trouble aka you plus JeongMinLixJin. You’re talking about those kids from Class 2C that are mutual friends with Changbin.

Because the moment Jisung barges into the cabin and starts babbling nonsense that you can’t comprehend (not that you can comprehend any of his shit on the daily), you know that he just came back from a get together with those sketchy dudes who managed to sneak some booze inside a shampoo bottle.

“Uhm okay, who gave Felix alcohol?” he squints his eyes hard. 

You are more than aware that Jisung is mildly smashed by the way that his cheeks are tinted with a light shade of coral, hiccupping every ten seconds and slightly more clumsy with his feet. He almost tripped over the rug at the front door if it weren’t for Hyunjin who caught him in time so that he wouldn’t break one of his precious teeth. Those painful years of constantly slurping on watery porridge after every dentist appointment to tighten his braces shouldn’t be going down the drain. 

Speaking of bland rice water, that’s all Felix has been fed with after returning to camp because he has no choice. The sickness finally caught up to him as a result of staying outside for too long while still dressed in his rain-soaked uniform. Even under the cotton comforter, he’s radiating heat on the outside but stoically shivering on the inside, his energy level is as diminished as his appetite. 

The nurse said there’s really nothing that can be done but give him some pills and let him ride it out so now Felix’s all curled up in a corner of his bed, cheeks burning flush of fever, coughing and sneezing occasionally. He refuses to be moved to a completely separate cabin because sleeping alone in a confined place knowing that the grizzly bears might be roaming outside your door is quite frightening for a junior in high school. 

“God, what makes you think I’m the batshit drunk one here?” Felix croaks, his voice more hoarse and gruff than usual because every word pains him, his vocal cords pulse in agony at each syllable. And that sentence was probably the longest thing you’ve heard from him since dinner. 

Jisung lets Hyunjin toss him onto his bed, face down, and props himself up on his forearms. “Uhh, have you checked yourself the mirror?” he hiccups, words a bit slurred, palms outstretched in a grabby motion. “Seungmin, water- ow! What the fuck was that!?” 

He rubs the side of his head while babbling incoherently like a fucking five-year-old because Seungmin decided to chuck a water bottle at him. Those years of playing baseball during retreats indeed paid off. 

“I went for the head,” Seungmin looks up from his book calmly, acting innocent. 

Jisung whines and turns to his side, watching as the water bottle rolls back towards him after coming in contact with the wall. “God, I miss Minho. You guys suck,” he takes it before sitting right up but flops himself back down when a pang of pain claws at his temple. Who even allowed him to drink?

“Didn’t he make your high school experience miserable?” Hyunjin laughs, sitting down on the corner of his bed, legs curled into his chest. 

“Hello? That was me,” Seungmin clarifies, he sounds a little offended. “He called me a nerd for studying late at the library for our finals! Our fucking finals! Do you know how insecure my freshman self was? I was so hurt!” 

You cross your arms and mumble, “He’s the same guy who treated you ice-cream after finding out you got a B in physics.”

Hyunjin hums, butting into the topic, “And he made me do fifty push-ups because I unintentionally skipped a day at practice. Our Dance Club really didn’t need a president who effortlessly snatches the Asshole of the Year Award like he’s stealing candies from a kid.”

“Please, you’re practically buddies now,” you scoff. “You always play Mario Kart and rewatch the Avatar series with him, even during midterms!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Jisung suddenly gets on his feet, jumping up and down like a maniac. You’re highly concerned for the bed by the creaking sound that it’s making—sounds just like something straight out of a horror film. “He almost threw a knife at me!”

You’re running out of excuses to defend your stupid brother at this rate. What’s the point in trying anyway? “Han, it was a plastic knife, chill.”

Jisung crawls off his bed to approach you, pinching his thumb and index finger together before shoving them to your face. “I was this close to dying! You try having someone threaten to throw a knife at you during lunch break,” he complains like it’s the end of the world. Truth is, you’ve seen (and experienced) worse things. 

“Minho’s still my brother.”

Staring at you, Jisung looks unimpressed. “He wanted to kill me because I commented on his puffy cheeks that day.”

“He’s adopted.”

The conversation is pulled to a halt right there when Felix does a full-body groan, his head spinning and sweats starting to collect at his hairline. With his mind buzzed like he’s floating, the bickering only adds to the pressure that’s squeezing each of his functioning brain cells. In other words, it feels as though Han Jisung is a fucking hamster going on a marathon across his body, nibbling on his limbs and ears as he’s going through a hangover, his immune system going on a rampage. 

Felix doesn’t even drink. 

“That’s my call for a bedtime story.” You glare at Jisung when he clears his throat while you’re attempting to tuck Felix into bed, pressing your palm against his forehead to check his temperature. It’s not climbing anymore, he should be okay after sweating everything out. 

Hyunjin pulls his friend back onto his bed, locking his limbs in tight before he waddles around and potentially breaks one of those decorative pieces on the bookshelf. “Not to burst your ego, but I don’t think you’re sober enough to give us a good story,” he says unapologetically. 

“Puh-lease,” Jisung lets out the weirdest chuckle at that, wagging his forearm like those Japanese ceramic cat figures that are supposed to bring people good fortune; and Han Jisung is notorious for bringing people anything but good fortune. “They didn’t even have vodka, only Strongbow. That shit is too weak for me.”

You snort involuntarily, “Actually, I think you meant you’re too weak for those bottles of cider.”

“Wow, Y/N, what a snake.”

eight.

The bonfire crackles, flaring up to life when coach Kim tosses a lit matchstick into the pyramid pile of branches and woods. The flame projects long shadows of the trees all round along, swirling and curling in obscure shapes with the high schoolers that each hugs their own cup of hot cocoa, chomping on their marshmallows of choice. 

Glowing embers beneath are colored by the inferno that seems to be moving with the rhythm and melody of the song that they’re all singing along, drumming their feet and bobbing their heads simultaneously. 

“Are you guys sure you don’t want to join them?” Felix says apologetically after sneezing into a piece of tissue, his nose all red and swollen. “I can just… I don’t know, read a book or something.”

When he refers to those oddly colorful and rather bulky-looking books on the shelves, Seungmin immediately stops putting a cookie inside his mouth midway. “Those are called ‘aesthetically useless interior decoration’, Lix. Good luck trying to open those plastic blocks,” he expresses with his hands after stuffing the cookie into his mouth, chewing rather aggressively. 

Felix feels quite bad because, for all he knows, Hyunjin and Seungmin have been planning on going kayaking today and trying out volleyball tomorrow. You’re all going home in two days yet they’ve done nothing but pigging out in pure distress. “Still, it’s a summer camp, you all should be out there having fun, not stuck inside to look after me while tolerating...that,” he quietly looks over at Jisung who just exited the bathroom after splashing his face with some water. 

At least he doesn’t look crazy and homeless now. 

“How are they doing that again?” you join Hyunjin as he rests his head lazily on his forearms, staring outside from the cabin’s window like Rapunzel in an alternative universe where Flynn Rider managed to escape the tower with the crown, leaving her behind longing for civil human interactions in vain. 

“They sing..” he drawls. “And turn their heads to look at each other in the eye.”

You wave it off absentmindedly, falling on your back so now your head is hung upside down from the bed, your arms dangling midair. “Well, that sounds exhausting,” you mumble, ignoring the way that Seungmin is internally judging you. 

Hyunjin sighs, “Never one for sentiment, are you?”

“Easier to let it burn,” you answer flatly, sitting upright when blood starts rushing to your head. 

“Don’t feel bad,” Seungmin immediately forces a smile at Felix. “We’re not really into sitting with a bunch of idiots just to enjoy a mildly decent hot cocoa either way.”

Suddenly the lights go out, and Felix immediately curls himself further into the blanket, a little thrown off. Jisung’s face comes into view out of nowhere when he makes a grab for the oil lamp that no one seems to take notice of, lighting it up with a single match. “C’mon, kids, no bonfire is complete without a good ghost story,” he crosses his legs on the floor happily, still somewhat tipsy so his body is bouncing in excitement with occasional hiccups. 

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchange questionable looks before scrambling to the floor, settling themselves a few solid inches in front of the oil lamp with a sigh while you only shrug at Felix, propping your head onto your hands. Laziness is starting to hold you hostage on Hyunjin’s bed at this rate. 

Seungmin spares Jisung a slight glare, “Better not bullshit us with the same one that you heard at school-”

“No,” Jisung’s lips morph into something similar to a smirk, he looks concerningly confident for someone who’s utterly terrified after watching IT. And now he’s attempting to give his bros who are equally jumpy about everything and anything, you’re excited to see how this goes. “I heard this one from a camp counselor, true story.” You definitely don’t like the sound of that.

At first, the ghost was no more than a chill in the air, a shimmer of mist to the common eyes. Through the heavy rain and fog that seeps through people’s skin, chilling the core of their bones, it slowly came into focus. It wasn’t until the camper found refuge under a canopy of an abandoned café that it congealed into a form—a small child with brilliant round eyes, dressed in white clothing. 

For a moment, all was silent and still. It was as though the camper got hypnotized, feet planted to the ground. Then, he could hear a small lullaby in a cheerful voice. 

“Oranges and Lemons say the bells of St.Clements…” They know how that one ended. 

Suddenly someone blows out the candle, but Jisung’s voice still rings in your eardrums. “When the camper took a step back, the ghost spoke again, this time with the voice almost of a smoker and grin…” You can feel Hyunjin hop back to bed with you in a tick of a clock, holding onto you for dear life with the infrequent whimpers of fear. 

Jisung proceeds to continue, “The grin soon became a snarl, baring teeth like a wolf when it finished the lullaby…”

A muffled silence descends. And, “Have you come to play…?”

“AHHH!!” Felix lets out a petrified shriek, but what confuses you is the sound of Jisung grunting rather in pain. Seungmin sighs in disapproval, flickering the lights on while leaning back against the wall. 

And now before your eyes is a slightly traumatized, feverish Felix with clattering teeth, quivering inside his blanket. Whereas, Jisung is sprawled across the floor, hugging his poor stomach, hacking up lungs. Deserve.

“This is why you don’t give people who can high-kick jump scares, dumbass,” Seungmin comments and crouches down in front of Jisung like his knight in shiny armors, letting a bottle of ointment dangle between his fingers. “Put this on, bet it’s already bruising.”

Hyunjin releases his arms around you and walks towards the freckled boy who looks like he’s about to slip into a coma. “Lix, are you okay?” he knits his brows together, starting to feel somewhat concerned. 

Felix only waves it off with a raspy laugh, standing on wobbly legs with his blanket still wrapped around his figure. “I’m fine, I’ll just go wash my face.” Truth is, he’s anything but fine. And it doesn’t help when he accidentally has a glance of his own reflection in the body-length mirror from across the cabin—his hair is sticking to his forehead, his face is slightly more puffy than usual, and his eyebags look like he hasn’t slept in decades—he looks worse than a trash can, basically. 

“Hyunjin,” you raise a brow at your friend’s current state.

“What?”

“Catch him.”

“Huh-” Hyunjin snaps his head back when a loud thud is heard, eyes growing twice as big in sheer panic upon the sight of Felix laying on his stomach, mere inches away from his feet. “Felix!!” Your friends rush to his side while you’re too busy checking the thermometer by his nightstand. The temperature doesn’t seem to be too alarming, he should be fine after sleeping and sweating it out. But really, Felix looks more like he’s having the nap of a lifetime rather than passing out from the worst fever of the century. That doesn’t stop everyone from freaking out, unfortunately. 

Also, everyone can agree that this is the first and last storytime to ever happen.

nine.

Felix sits on the beach, eyes moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. He lets out a sigh, an exhale of relief when a breeze passes by him, tousling his hair as he buries his feet deeper into the primrose-colored grains. The briny aroma that exists in every fiber of air makes him feel at ease, as though unknotting all his angsty-teenager worries with grace. He feels a bit better, partially because his fever has already gone down when he shook you out of your half-asleep state at four in the morning. 

“Why?” you ask without turning your head after sensing his tense posture.

Felix looks confused, a little startled when you break the silence. “Why what?”

“Why the long face?” you unknowingly exhale too, stubbornly gazing forward. “Thinking about something?” For some reason, you’re too...scared to even spare him a small glance. This isn’t you, did his fever rub off on you or something?

To your dismay, his sudden inquiry catches you off guard. “High school is going to be over in a year, have you thought about what to do?” 

You open your mouth to protest with something along the line of he’s overthinking again and there’s still an entire year ahead to make new memories but when you’re about to utter the first word, your mouth automatically snaps itself close. It’s like you have an entire masterpiece planned out in your mind but when someone tosses you a blank canvas, you’re standing there in defeat like the biggest idiot. Felix is serious this time, you know it’s not because he’s lightheaded after riding out the fever. 

“Honestly?” you breathe out. “No, I haven’t. God, I don’t even want to think about it, the future scares me a little.”

Upon the mossed rock and vibrant horizon, comes the sun rays that are promised by the starlit sky. It makes you both a little breathless, not exchanging a single word nor moving a muscle for a while. 

Until, “Fine, it scares me a whole lot,” you confess, gaze cast downward as you hug your legs closer to your chest. “It sucks because everyone seems to have their lives together, Jisung is finally taking his interest in music seriously, Hyunjin is planning on being an actual theater kid, and Seungmin is...I don’t know, but he’s definitely onto something. Point is, everyone is already one too many steps ahead of me, I’m just..here, stuck. And I don’t feel like I have-”

“A lot of time left.” Felix finishes your sentence, prompting you to look at him this time. His delicate features shine under the cracking lights of dawn, starry eyes twinkling and lips outstretched into the smile that you absolutely adore. He has such a contagious type of smile that it makes you feel a little less dead inside whenever you see it. But your heartbeat also grows a little more ecstatic. 

A hearty chuckle. “You’re not alone, you know,” he says while not breaking away from the eye contact, this makes your throat grow dry. “I still have so much to do, so much to...say yet too little time. So yeah, don’t think about it too much, I’m never gonna leave you behind no matter what.”

You have to hold back a playful scoff at that; and to think he was the one who brought up this sappy topic. “If anything, you’re the overthinker in this relationship,” you tell him with a nudge on his rib. “But if you’ve already had my back, then you should know that I’ll always have yours too.”

Because what would you do without an overthinker like Felix? Drowning your sorrow by stress-eating in the middle of the night? Bottoming out on questionable drinks to end up like Han Jisung? Winging every single important choice that can potentially flip your life upside down in either a good or bad way? Not in a million years. He knows that you need him as much as he needs you, harsh truth but you still hate it either way.

You both don’t look forward to the future, like at all. 

You’re too apathetic and overall just a big ‘meh’ about it. You’re the type of person that goes with the flow, letting life toss you around like a ragdoll until you finally snap at some point to fight back because you know where the line between giving up and knowing that you’ve had enough is. Meanwhile, Felix is rather anxious about things. If a piece of paper with a pencil can draw out the map of his entire destiny ahead then he’ll have it finished in one night. But he’s grown out of his middle school self to know that things don’t always go as planned.

Guess if things turn out to be shit, you’ll still have him.

“Does that mean if we’re still single in our thirties, you’ll marry me like how our parents always joke about?” Felix cracks a shit-eating grin this time, one that makes your heart swell but for the most part, you wanna whack him unconscious with a pillow. 

You sneer in return, “Sure, but you’ll have to fall for me first.”

There’s a pang in Felix’s chest, it’s so loud and evident that he’s afraid you might hear it. You really didn’t have to slap him in the face with that seemingly harmless statement. “Hmm, who would even fall for a stubborn hermit crab like you?” he jokes to hide the nervousness that’s crawling upon his spine. His ears are probably bright red right now. “Although...that wouldn’t be a problem with me.” Because he’s already fallen for you, a little too hard actually.

“What does that even mean?” you only hum after questioning his statement, nothing makes sense right now since you’re getting a little sleepy because a certain someone wanted to watch the sunrise which simply lasted for about two minutes after two(ish) hours of waiting.

“I don’t know,” Felix laughs before standing up, dusting the sand off of his jeans. “You go figure it out, smartass.” With that, he runs off with his Converses dangling between his fingers, leaving you dumbfounded in the middle of the beach like a total dimwit. Slowly, within those five seconds of making eye contact with your best friend again, his words zero in on you like a wakeup call. 

Urgently grabbing your sneakers, you chase after him. “Hey- wait! GET BACK HERE!” By looks of it, you’ve probably figured it out now. It’s not like he’s trying to be subtle either.

Felix feels like he just gained strength from spewing out that indirect confession, and it gives him a tiny ray of hope that he still has his entire youth before his eyes to tell you how he really feels. Or his whole life if you don’t start resenting him for crossing the line that no one dares talk about when they have a thing for their best friend. 

Either way, as long as Felix sees your presence side by side with him at every ups and downs, he’s home. 

[stardancerluv]

Roman’s Lady is his Luck

Part 2c

Summary: In passion and love you are together yet Roman’s voice sometimes is a stormy cloud.

Warning: Language, Voilence, Torture, blood mentioned, sex

The man backed up. “Roman, come on. We all know that the women, you usually have are not ladies.”

Right then, Roman’s friend Bernard who had greeted the two of you showed up.

“How was the game everyone?”

“Great.” Roman, looked at the two men who came with the man. “Take him away.” He pointed to the man who insulted your presence.

“Hey, wait a second.” The man said, panic evident in his voice.

The bald man nodded. “Take him to our place. Roman and I will handle him later.” The man, then looked at the two of you. “How is the room?” A wide, toothy smile spread across his face.

Roman’s mood, finally shifted. “It is very nice.” He smiled looking at you. “We love it.”

“Perfect.”

You went over to Roman’s side. “I love it. It’s fantastic.” You echoed.

“Fantastic.”

“Y/N, were right about to check out the Mob Museum.” He squeezed your hip.

“Yes, we were. I love all that old school gangster stuff.”

“Well, you two have fun. And Roman, I’ll keep him till your ready.”

Roman smiled, “We’ll be back around six. I’ll be down after that.”

*****

“Ooo look at these!” You pointed at the Bugsy Siegel’s. Sunglasses. They reminded you of a pair sometimes, Roman would wear. Only his were much better.

“Yeah. Mine are better.” He chuckled.

“You bet they are.” Looping you arm with his, you went on to look at the next exhibits. “And you are much better looking too.” You whispered in his ear.

He smirked. “I’ve got the best moll of them all.”

You flushed. “I want to be.”

******

“Come here baby.” He pulled you close, once you were back at the suite.

“Yes, Roman.” Your arms wrapped around him.

“I’m going to go and take of that man now. What are you going to be up to?”

“I’ll go shopping.”

“I’ll come find you.” He knew how much you loved to shop, there were some wonderful stores out here. He had to meet with one of his favorite tailors out here, he mused.

You smiled. “I’d like that.” You tilted your head to one side. “Roman, are you going to kill him?”

“I might.” He grew serious, never discussed such things with anyone. Not even, Victor. “Why?” He looked at you.

“You don’t have to kill everyone who insults me.”

“The stewardess, is still alive.”

“That’s good.” As you looked down, he knew you were not challenging him. He actually felt something. No one really ever cared about his actions. “I guess.” You looked at him finally. “I don’t want you to feel you have to kill everyone who is horrible to me.”

“But I enjoy it.” He smirked. He did. He enjoyed making people squirm and pay when they crossed him.

He could hear your concern. “I just don’t want to give Bat-brain or Gordon more of a reason to go after you.”

He gave you a warm smile. He drew a finger along your jaw. “Don’t worry baby. They’re small minnows in my pond, they don’t worry me.” You concern, and knowing his prowess, he wanted you to be assured.

“When you say it like that, I guess you’re right.”

“I am.” He nodded. “Now go and get some pretty things for yourself. And I will come find you.”

******

Bernard, handed him his mask before the car came to a stop.

“I forgot kept one here in case.” He smiled as he looked at it. He slid it on, then making sure his gloves fit well, he got out of the car. “Thank you,” He looked at Victor. “Sorry to interupt your game. I know this is a vacation for you too.”

“Not a problem, boss. This asshole has to be dealt with.”

With Victor behind him, he began making his way, to the abandoned factory. Distantly, he wondered what store you were shopping at.

*****

A thrill went through you. The more you thought about it, you actually enjoyed what a powerful person in Gotham he was, and that he loved you made even more exciting.

Wandering down by the shops, you stopped and looked at the three statues. Looking past one of them you spotted one of your favorite stores. You had thought it was only in Gotham, happily you were wrong and you made your way over to it.

******

He walked in and saw the man tied up and gagged. Under the mask, his lips curled into a smile. He flinched as he neared.

“Do you know why you are here?” He asked as he reached into his pocket and took out one of his knives.

******

Once in the boutique, you went over to a rack of colorful and pretty dresses. Seeing a few in your size, you grabbed them to try one.

You also spotted a few blouses and skirts. You were in heaven. Soon, the dressing room was filled with color and several types of fabrics.

She settled on a few items before moving among several other boutiques, there was a wake of color fabrics in her wake.

*****

The man sputtered and gasped and begged. “Please, I thought I was just being honest.”

He coughed and screamed.

Roman, enjoyed seeing him squirm. “Well, you shouldn’t insult a man’s girl. It doesn’t matter who she is.”

“I...I...”

“You fucking what? You’re beginning to bore me.”

“I promise not too do it again.” He man, whimpered.

“Victor, hold this asshole down will you?” He saw an instense fear light his eyes as color continued to drain from his face. It made Roman happy. He grabbed the man by his jaw. “Oh do you, stick out your fucking tongue.”

******

Finally, you spotted a guilty pleasure. Your favorite lingerie store. Well, to be honest it was because, the first time Roman was away he bought you the most beautiful pieces from it when he bad business in London.

Maybe you could find something to wear under that dress he surprised you with.

Perhaps, something silky to go under the black silky dress. Or perhaps something with lace. So many wonderful items to pick from.

*****

Blood poured from the man’s tongue, slipping his mask off he leaned in close. “Now you will know not to let your tongue wag about another man’s girl.”

“Yes.” The man sputtered.

******

You gasped as you walked out of the dressing room and saw Roman, leaning there. “Roman!” You said excitedly and went over to him.

He smiled and held you close. “Having, fun baby?”

“Yes. I was just finishing up.” You looked around a little shy. “Would you like me to put on a little fashion show for you?” Excitement, over the idea, curled in your stomach.

He smirked. “I’d like that.”

******

*******

Finding, your mp3 player you cued up some music. You were a little shy at first but then you got into it.

As he lounged there with his shirt jacket off, excitement built in you.

A fire began to build in his eyes. “You are beautiful.” His voice was raspy. You could feel very word. They excited you.

*****

Damn, watching your curves under all those items of clothing was absolutely amazing. His heart beat with the music.

His lips curled in his excitement as he watched you. The music added to it but it was all you.

When you were finally in a little teddy. He beckoned to you. “Come here baby.”

He pulled you onto his lap. His hand slipped under the teddy to rest on your hips. He gave them a squeeze.

“I have something to tell you.”

“Yes.” You reached up and ran your fingers through your hair.

“I listened to you today.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I didn’t kill him. But he will remember to not ever act like that again.”

“Oh, Roman I don’t know what to say.” You were shocked. You’d never thought he’d listen. As it was, you were terrified about saying something earlier. It really had not been your place. But that he listened to you, honestly touched your heart.

“You were right. Sometimes a punishment can be more fun.” He smirked. “You can kiss me.”

As your small hand laid on his cheek, he closed his eyes for a moment as he did he then felt your lips. He repressed the sound that came frlm

He moved fast making you gasp and pulling a soft sound from you as he now was over you.

“I can’t wait. I want you.”

“I’m yours.”

He made quick moves and opening his slacks, he easily took himself out. “Oh, that is my girl.” When he saw you had not slipped on any panties.

Bracing himself on the armrest, he entered you. A moan poured from his lips which mingled with yours.

He loved the feel of your legs as they wrapped around his waist almost as much as being deep with you.

“Baby.” He breathed, as your fingers were deep in his hair.

*****

Your teddy rested on your hips as you curled up to him on the sofa. You pressed a kiss on his cheek. Delighting, in the light touch of scruff.

“I’m glad you enjoyed my little show.”

He turned his head to smile at you, “I did. I could barely control myself.”

You flushed and hid your face into his shoulder.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @rentskenobi @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @pooshnulooshnu

[siriuslyshewrote]

CHANGES - SHELBY!SISTER

Summary : The Shelby’s younger sister isn’t happy with everything changing around her.

Requested? : yes

A/N : This is set at Tommy and Grace’s wedding (1924).

“But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all.”

You were sat in the stables of Tommy’s large mansion, the smell of straw and leather saddles and manure filling your nose, not a pleasant smell, but one of comfort, nostalgia. It reminded you of living in Small Heath, only a few years ago. Perhaps you were poorer, but you missed it. Greatly.

Stroking the nose of Dimitri - your horse, one Tommy had bought you when you were only eight (ten years ago now, you realised) - you sighed a little. Really, what you may have missed more than anything else, was how much your brothers had changed between Small Heath and now. You had grown up used to your brothers being constantly around (aside from the war, but for you, that was a distant fuzzy memory), whenever you needed anything at all , whether that be a shoulder to cry on, or someone to scare away unwanted attention from some boys, or just as simple as someone to joke around with. But, as you grew, so did the age gap feel like it increased. Your brothers were getting married, having children. It felt almost, back then, like they were replacing their baby sister with their own, new family. One you weren’t even apart of.

You sighed. You should be happy for Tommy. After all this time, he’d finally found his someone. And you were. You told yourself you were.

The music from the party inside reached your ears, and you knew you should be there. It just felt weird to you. Immersed in all this grandeur - you hated it. Pol always said you were the one with the most gypsy blood flowing through your veins, and she was right - that was your lifestyle, wanting to be on the road, never in the same place more than a week, the one you wished for, anyway. You felt trapped, stuck in this place.

“What ya doing out here?” You jumped a little, the horse next to you snorting.

You turned, to see your older brother - John- leaning against the stable door, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

You sighed a little, jumping to perch on the half door, to sit next to him.

“I’m being stupid, is what.”

“Thought you liked Grace?”

“I did - I do. I just ... does it not feel wrong to you. Like we’re putting on a facade?”

“Haven’t we our whole lives?” He grinned. “Even when we were dirt poor?”

“I still feel like we are dirt poor. At the end of the day, that’s who we are. Who the Blinders are.”

“Don’t let Tommy hear that.” He laughed a little.

“But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing’s changed at all? Or is that just me?”

“Y/N, you cant expect everything to stay the same forever, c’mon.” He didn’t say it angrily or anything - just almost confused.

“I wish it would. I want to be back at Small Heath in that tiny crowded house-“

“You want us all to have nits again ? Don’t think I don’t rememeber that it was you that infected us all with them.” He jabbed you in the ribs, grinning, and you laughed a little.

“Well, maybe not that.”

“See, there are some bonuses to livin’ rich. Pol doesn’t have to shave our bloody hair off cause we’re infested.”

You laughed. “You did look rather stupid bald.”

“So did you. Three years old, no hair, everyone thought you were a bloody boy for months.” He snickered.

“Didn’t help that I was wearing your hand-me-downs.”

He laughed loudly at that. “Fuckin’ forgot about tha’.”

You were both sat in comfortable silence for a few moments.

“I guess I just miss you lot. I never really see Tommy or Arthur or you anymore.”

“Well if you hadn’t gone and got married to that Jesus kid, then you’d probably see us more.” He grinned.

You swatted him. “It’s not my fault! You’re the one that buggered off to the country.”

“It’s no ones fault, you know. We’re just growing up. Doesn’t mean we have to grow apart.”

For once, John’s words were actually wise.

“I guess you’re right.” You smiled.

Because, to you, no matter where your family was, you’d all have those memories. Crowding around a tiny kitchen table, squabbling, running the streets at all hours of the morning becuase no matter how much Pol tried, she couldn’t contain you all.

And for now, that would have to do.

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever- Peter Parker x venom!Reader

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Warnings: brief mentions of suicide, cancer, and drepression

AN: Hello! this is the first chapter and I hope you enjoy. Reader is essentially the female Eddie Brock. This takes place after the events of the Venom movie, but before Infinity War and Endgame.

Masterlist

Chapter One

Chapter two Chapter three

“Married?” I squeaked. My eyes grazed over the words on the card a hundred times without retaining any of the information. I momentarily forgot how to even read. I solely relied on the words coming out of Andy’s mouth.

“Yes, uh, married.” He awkwardly cleared his throat. “Dani and I are getting married over the summer.” Andy said. I was still staring at that damn card. The awkward silence filled the air, suffocating the three of us, but I didn’t care. I was holding my ex-fiancé’s wedding invitation in my hand for Christ’s sake.

“Married.” I repeated, like an idiot.

“You said that already, dumbass.” Venom chimed in, telepathically. I kicked the bench we were sitting on to quiet her down.

“Yes. Mare-weed.” He mimicked my New York accent just a little. I had trouble pronouncing my r’s. They often sounded like w’s. Andy never failed to point out how I sounded like a baby. I playfully elbowed him.

“Give me a break, it’s a lot to take in.” I said softly.

“I know. That’s why I wanted to tell you in person. I figured it would be better than you randomly getting the card in the mail and finding out that way.” Andy explained.

“Our hero.” Venom snarled. I pinched my leg to send her the message to be quiet.

“Yea. Yea no I’m glad you told me.” I said. My eyes finally processed something on the card.

“You’re getting married on August 10?” I asked, finally tearing my eyes away from that damn invitation and looking at him. He looked good. His curly brown hair was cut shorter than usual and he had on one of his signature suits.

“Bright and early. I chose that day because-“

“Because it’s your parents anniversary. I know.” I cut him off. I looked down and my hands. “We were gonna get married that day too.” I said timidly. I wasn’t gonna say it, but how could I not? He and I were engaged too once. I could feel Andy’s face heat up.

“Y/N, I totally forgot. I never would’ve, I mean, I didn’t erm I didn’t want-“ he stumbled over his words. I held up a hand to silence him.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. We were engaged and now we’re not. Besides, I’m really happy for you and Dani. She really helped me get back in my feet when Venom and I first bonded. I like her. And if you want to marry her on that day, then go ahead.” I said, and I meant it. I did like Dani. I’d like her more if she wasnt dating the love of my life, but hey, nobody’s perfect.

“You’re lying. We want him back. He looks so juicy and delicious.” Venom said. I choked on my saliva for a moment. Andy was quick to pat my back.

“You alright?” He asked. I nodded and made a mental note to have a domestic conversation about boundaries with Venom when we got home.

“I’m fine. And anyways, I’ve uh, I’ve moved on.” I blurted, like a total freaking dumbass.

“What? No we haven’t?” Venom said

“You have?” Andy asked. He seemed taken aback.

“No! We love you!” Venom cried. I was just greatful she was only speaking in my head.

“Yep. I’m in a deeply committed and loving relationship.” I said. It wasn’t a total lie. I was technically in a relationship with Venom, though be it a host parasite kinda deal. And I did deeply love her. I avoided eye contact and began to tug on a curl.

“What’s he like?” Andy asked. He seemed pissed off all the sudden. I pretended not to notice his change in mood.

“She, actually. She’s great. She’s uh…tall. Super super tall.” I said. It was true. Venom was 7’6. Andy nodded so I continued.

“She’s black, like yourself, and she’s got this big, beautiful smile.” I could feel myself cringing internally.

“You think my smile is beautiful?” Venom said sheepishly. I rolled my eyes.

“And she just always has my back. She’s my ride or die, you know? If I didn’t have her, I’d be dead. Literally.” I finished. And I would. If Venom and I ever got separated, we would both die. Andy was looking off into the distance. He sucked his teeth before nodding again. All he ever did was nod.

“That’s nice.” He said. His tone didn’t sound like he thought it was nice.

“I’d literally die.” I repeated.

“I get it.” He deadpanned.

“Like, I’d freaking perish.” I said.

“Alright.” He held up his hands and I stopped. Venom giggled in my head. I giggled back quietly.

“So, do you think you can come?” He asked.

Of course I could come. What the hell else would I be doing? But I was just getting back on my feet. I was at rock bottom before I found Venom. Well, before we found each other. That was nearly a year ago. That night came back in flashes every now and then.

I stared at a string of pictures of Andy and I at a fair. We went in the photoboth and immortalized our love in a series of goofy pictures. At least, I thought we did. Each picture showed us how we once were. Happy, youthful, and in love. Kisses on cheeks and arms around necks that had been long forgotten. I stared at the pictures until tears filled my eyes. He left me six months ago and it hurt like a bitch everyday. I tore my eyes away from the photos and they landed on a framed picture of me and my sister, Mary. My beautiful sister. I picked up the picture and smiled at it fondly. We were wearing matching shirts that said “Mary the Monster”. I had suggested “Mighty Mary” but she liked monster better.

“Why would you call yourself a monster? Monsters are scary and evil.” I teased.

“Exactly. I’m gonna scare the cancer out of my body. And who says all monsters are evil? They’re not. In fact, all monsters are human. At least they used to me. And I’m human too.” She answered. I smiled at her admiringly.

“Are you sure? You look a bit more like an alien to me.” I said, rubbing her bald head.

“Who else can look this good bald? A monster, that’s who?” Mary beamed. “Now, are you sure you want to go through with this?” She asked, turning on the razor.

“Yes. If my sisters bald, I’m bald.” I looked at my self in the mirror and nodded fiercely. Her face lit up with pride and she began to shave my head.

That was three years ago. Two years ago, she lost her fight to cancer. She died when I was 16. She was only 21. Twenty freaking one. Just three months shy of her 22nd birthday.

I remember calling her after looking at our picture. I’d call her every now and then, when I needed to hear her voicemail.

“Hey Mary. It’s Y/N. I’m sure you’re busy kicking ass in heaven and that’s why you didn’t pick up. You know, you could always come back down here and kick ass. Heaven is way overrated. I hear you don’t even have cable. I’m uh, I’m in a tough place right now. I really miss you. Every damn day. It…it should’ve been me. Dad always said it and, and I think he was right” a steady flow of tears fell down my cheek. “Anyway. I might be seeing you real soon. I love you. Goodnight” I hung up and dialed my dad.

“Hm hello?” He grunted on the third ring. I might’ve woken him up.

“Hey dad. It’s me.” I said sheepishly. We didn’t really talk since I moved to San Francisco.

“Mary? Is that you?” He asked. He was drunk, no doubt. His words were slurred and he slow.

“No, dad. It’s your other daughter. It’s Y/N.” I said. “I just…I was wondering if I could come home. I know I moved out here to work and be with Andy, but Andy and I actually broke and I uh, I lost my job dad. I’m kinda at a low point and I just want to go home.” I confessed. I waited for his answer. All I heard was silence, then a low, gravely laugh.

“Home? You think this is home? Your sister dies and you leave me here all alone and think it’s home? You think I want you here after what you’ve done? After you killed your mother and let your sister die?” He asked. He wasn’t yelling. He was genuinely asking. It didn’t stop it from hurting though.

“I didn’t kill mom. Thousands of women die in childbirth every year. We’ve talked about this a hundred times. Please just…just let me come home dad. I really need to get out of here.” I said. Hot tears fell down my face. I didn’t want to go to him, but I had nowhere else to go.

“I don’t want you around here. I never wanted you, period. Your sister was my golden girl. Your mother and I were so happy to have her.” He sounded sober for a moment, thinking of those happy memories. “And then you came along. And you killed your mother. My wife. My beautiful wife, gone, just like that. Leaving me with a screaming, crying baby. No. You can’t come home. This isn’t your home. Don’t call again.” And he hung up. I knew I was at my lowest point. I knew that was it. I saw my bottle of anti-depressants out of the content of my eye. I went over to the bottle and toyed with it in my hands. I lost my job, relationship, and family. I lost everything. What was the point of living to see tomorrow when tomorrow had nothing for me? I poured the pills into my hand and swallowed them. I drank some water and went to bed.

And then I woke up.

I woke up the next day. It hadn’t worked. It only left me feeling emptier and more miserable than before. I picked up my phone and went to call Mary again when I saw Dr. Dora Skirth’s number. On a whim, I dialed it. That night, Venom and I met, and I had found a reason to live to tomorrow.

“Y/N?” Andy asked. I snapped out of it.

“Oh right sorry. Um…” I mulled it over. Losing Andy nearly killed me. I was happy for him, I really was. But I wasn’t ready to attend his wedding. That was gonna be us. We were gonna be married on August 10th. It should’ve been me picking out a dress and bouquet and cake with him. He and I should be handing out wedding invitations. He shouldn’t be giving one to me. Of course I wanted to be at his wedding. But I wanted to be the bride.

“Actually, I cant. The Daily Bugle called me and offered me a job in New York. They want me to cover a story on some serial killer. I was gonna move there part time until the story is done. I’m leaving in a few weeks.” I blurted. Actual word vomit. It was partly true. The Daily Bugle did want to to write the story. But I had no moving plans nor was I the type of organized person who could make moving plans in a few mere weeks.

“Oh really? Wow.” Andy said. I couldn’t read his emotion. Disappointment and excitement seemed to be the forerunners but I couldn’t tell.

“Yea. I just finalized everything this morning.” More lies. I better call them the hell back. Andy nodded. My heart felt a twinge of guilt.

“But hey, maybe I’ll finish early and make it back in time for your big day. I mean, it’s only April. I have lots of time. How many people could this guy possible kill until August?” I joked. Andy didn’t laugh. He never really got my sense of humor. He did smile however.

“That’s great Y/N. I really hope you can make it. And congratulations. On everything. The girlfriend, the job. Things are really turning around for you.” He said. We smiled sincerely at each other before saying our goodbyes and going our separate ways.

I entered my apartment and slid down the door.

“Holy shit. I’m such a liar.” I said. I covered my face with my hands. Venom manifested herself and looked at me.

“You’re not a liar if we move to New York and start dating.” She said. I laughed.

“You have a point. In that case, will you be my girlfriend, Miss Venom?” I asked sarcastically. Venom smiled.

“You’re not really my type, but I’m willing to settle.” Venom answered. I laughed again.

“Then let’s make moving plans, baby. We’re going to New York.”

[okayoonoh]

what do we do now?

“Those instructions weren’t too bad, right? Just one task, he had the whole day to do it.

So why, oh why, did Doyoung cut Minyoung’s hair himself?”

---

- PAIRING: kim doyoung x reader - GENRE: family fluff and some humor! - RATING: e for everyone!! - WORD COUNT: 7,255 - WARNINGS: just the fear of doyoung cutting his only son’s hair for the first time

a/n: the idea for this scenario came to me randomly and i just KNEW that doyoung and taeyong would fit best in this! i hope you guys like it!

here’s the masterlist to all things nct dad related! go and check out all of the other parts i have!

[ navi ]

---

key:

y/bf/n - your best friend’s name

t/w/n - taeyong’s wife’s name

---

It was simple, really. You told your ever loving husband to do one thing. One simple thing. 

Hey Doyoung, please don’t forget to take Minyoung out for a haircut. 

Those instructions weren’t too bad, right? Just one task, he had the whole day to do it.

So why, oh why, did Doyoung cut Minyoung’s hair himself?

The day started off as a beautiful day. Your precious 8 month old son finally slept through the night after a couple weeks of deciding that the early hours of the morning are for partying, not sleeping. You wake up to silence; the sunlight shining through the curtain, streams of warm light dispersing themselves throughout the soft features of your husband’s face. Your heart flutters. Waking up next to him everyday still overflows your heart with so much love and happiness. You know for sure that you are right where you belong in this moment in time.

You move gently from the bed, not wanting to wake up your sleepy husband. Taking quiet steps, you move over to the crib next to the bed, checking on your dear son. His eyes were shut, indicating that he had no intention in waking up anytime soon. You smooth over his dark hair, realizing his bangs have grown so much since he was born. Holding back a laugh, you reminisce on the times your son’s thick hair seemed non-existent, clearly remembering Doyoung’s major concern of that day.

---

“Babe, do you think we should be concerned about his hair? It just looks so thin.” Doyoung says from your side, his skinny frame squished in the tight hospital bed beside you, his arm around your shoulders as you hold your son born merely hours ago.

Your newborn lays comfortably in your arms, his soft blanket swaddling him perfectly. He looked like a doll with a soft squishy face, seemingly flawless. 

“I mean look,” Doyoung says, reaching a hand to remove the green beanie that rests on his newborn’s head, “It’s not like there’s no hair, but Minyoung just looks bald at this point.”

You glare at your husband, reaching for the beanie Doyoung pulled out abruptly, gently placing it back on the baby’s head. “Look, all babies are different, Doyoung. We should be happy; some babies are born with no hair at all! Let’s be happy with the hair he has, okay?”

Doyoung sighs, “You’re right, you’re right. It just goes to show that he doesn’t even need hair to be the cutest baby in the world.” His voice raises in pitch as he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss on Minyoung’s forehead. Minyoung wiggles a bit in your arms, a little annoyed that his dad woke him up from his sleep. You shush him, lulling the little baby back to sleep. You rest your head against Doyoung’s shoulder, his head resting on top of yours while you both look down at your entire world wrapped in a small bundle. Everything seems perfect. 

---

The days where your son’s hair was manageable and thin seem like yesterday. The days where the only thing you needed to do was let his hair just exist. You find yourself buying more hair pins, headbands, and clips for Minyoung rather than yourself. He may be less than a year old, but his hair is just getting too long. You decide, it’s time.

It’s time for Minyoung to get his first haircut.

Smoothing over his bangs one more time, you look at the alarm clock on your bedside table. 

7:13. You sigh, deciding now is the best time to get ready for the day. Your phone buzzes on the bedside table, your best friend’s name popping up as a text notification.

Y/BF/N: good morning y/n! taeyong’s wife said that she’s dropping off little youngchul at your place before heading over to the store. i originally had plans in the morning but they’ve been cancelled! I’ll be heading to your place with her so that we can all go to the boutique together. 

Today is the first day in a long time since you’ve gone out with just your friends. Your best friend was recently engaged and as her “maid of honor”, you have to go with her to say yes to the dress. Thankfully, your best friend knew your circumstances and didn’t put too many responsibilities on you since you’ve become a mom merely 8 months ago. She agrees that it’s easier for her, too. She’s always been someone who’s more on the particular side of things. 

Ever since your son was born, the most you’ve been out of the house was a quick dinner date you had with Doyoung; his parents gracious enough to watch their grandchild for a couple hours so you and Doyoung could breathe. No one said parenting would be easy and you and Doyoung are feeling the testament of it right now. Today will be Doyoung’s first time alone with Minyoung and you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. It’s not that you don’t trust your husband, it’s just this is the first time either of you are alone with the baby for this long.

Heading over to the bathroom, you grab your toothbrush, squeezing toothpaste on the bristles, wetting it, then brushing your teeth. You check your reflection in the mirror, checking your sleepy complexion. You hear the sheets of your bed rustle, watching as your sleepy husband makes his way out of bed. His feet pad against the wooden floor as he makes his way over to you, wrapping his arm around your side and kissing the top of your head. 

“Morning,” he says, his voice still raspy from sleep. 

You lean over the sink, rinse, and dry your mouth. 

“Morning,” you reply with a kiss on his cheek. “Are you nervous for today?”

“Not really,” he replies, turning on the sink wet his hands as he gets ready to wash his face. “I think I’ll be okay. It’s only for a day.”

You nod, watching as your husband grabs your cleanser, rubbing some in his hands and putting it on his face.

“Oh, before I forget.” You grab your phone from the counter, texting a location to Doyoung. “Please don’t forget to take Minyoung out for a haircut. I just sent you the address of my friend’s salon and she said she’ll do it for free since Minyoung is still a baby. You have to do it before 3:00, though. She has a full schedule after that so she can’t take us in after that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it done.” Doyoung smiles after he rinses off his face. You return his smile with your own, gently rubbing his back in appreciation.

“Also! I forgot to give her back the necklace I borrowed from her, can you give this to her as well?”

Doyoung nods, “I’ll take care of it, babe. Don’t worry about us at home, go and enjoy your day with your friends.”

You smile at your husband, glad to see his attempts to comfort you. With a final pat on his back, you head back towards your bedroom, walking to the closet. Your phone buzzes in your hand, a notification popping up on the screen, this time a text from Taeyong’s wife.

T/W/N: i have some good news! well, more for our husbands, lol. taeyong’s schedule has been cleared, so doyoung doesn’t have to watch both babies on his own! 

You smile, texting back.

YOU: that’s perfect! I was so nervous that doyoung would just forget everything, but i feel comforted that taeyong will be there now!

You place your phone down on the bedside table, going back into the closet to finish selecting your outfit. It’s time to get back into the rhythm of things. 

---

Ding-dong

“I got it,” Doyoung says, “Babe, can you keep stirring this for me?” 

You nod, quickly moving to the kitchen while Doyoung heads towards the door. You stir the soup Doyoung was making, grabbing a spoon to give it a taste. 

“Hello!” Doyoung cheers when he opens the door, happy to see the visitors. Taeyong, his wife, and your best friend enter the door, Youngchul resting in his mother’s arms. 

“Youngchul! Look at you!” Doyoung smiles as they all make their way in. Doyoung lays out his hands, wanting to hold the adorable baby. Taeyong’s wife hands Youngchul to Doyoung with a smile, thanking your husband so she can remove her shoes. 

They all enter the kitchen, Doyoung attempting to make little Youngchul laugh the entire way there. 

“Dude, your best friend is here and you’ve only been acknowledging my son,” Taeyong pouts at your husband.

“I’m sorry, Taeyong. Little Youngchul is just more interesting than you,” Doyoung says, not taking his eyes off of the baby. Taeyong laughs in response, taking a look around the living room.

“Hi, Y/N!” Taeyong says when he sees you. You walk over and give him a hug.

“Hey Taeyong! Thank you so much for coming here. I don’t think Doyoung could survive by himself.” You smile. You see your friends and hug them as well, each one of you excited for the day.

Taeyong replies, “Don’t worry, Y/N. This is my first time being alone with Youngchul so we’ll both be going through it, but at least it’ll be together.”

“Y/N! We have to get going or we’re going to be late!” Your best friend says, all while eating some seaweed from the soup, causing you to giggle. Knowing the nature of your best friend, you knew that she forgot to eat before she arrived at your place. 

You quickly grab a snack for your friend and the three of you get ready to leave the house. You walk towards your room to check on Minyoung one last time, kissing his forehead. You head back to the kitchen to kiss Doyoung goodbye and good luck, then you leave the house to meet up with your friends. 

Doyoung sets the table, Taeyong sitting down with Youngchul on his lap. 

“Where’s Minyoung?” Taeyong asks, bouncing the leg Youngchul sits on. 

“Minyoung is still asleep,” Doyoung replies while filling up two bowls with the soup he made, “My son is finally sleeping through the night and we’ve learned that he really does like to sleep a lot.”

Doyoung sets the soup down in front of Taeyong, sitting across from his friend.

“I wish Youngchul would be at that stage,” Taeyong says, taking a spoonful of soup and carefully blowing on it, “The longest Youngchul has slept has been 5 hours, but that was after a full day of the ever energetic Chenle and Jisung watching after him.”

Doyoung nods, eating a spoonful of soup as well. While the two dads catch each other up with the latest news, Youngchul looks at all of the tasty food in front of him. Formula was great, don’t get him wrong, but with his new, growing set of teeth, he wants a bite of the real stuff. In his father’s tight grasp, Youngchul does his best to lean forward and grab the seemingly delicious soup his father was eating. 

“Pa! Pa!” Youngchul grunts, leaning forward with all of his might in attempt to eat some of the yummy food. 

“No, Youngchul, this isn’t for you,” Taeyong says, pulling the boy back. Taeyong takes a little bit of rice and puts it in front of his son’s mouth, “Here, you can eat this. Say ahhh”

Youngchul opens his mouth, letting his father feed him the small grains of rice. He smiles and claps, making a noise of approval of the delicious food he just received, causing both dads to laugh.

“Do you like it, Youngchul?” Doyoung asks with a gummy smile on his face. Youngchul returns the smile with his own, clapping his hands. Both dads let out a laugh at the baby’s adorable antics.

A loud cry cuts through the air, causing Doyoung to spring up and head straight towards the bedroom.

“Are you awake, Minyoung?” Doyoung says, leaning over the crib to pick up the crying baby. Minyoung continues to cry, his strong lungs seemingly sending shockwaves throughout the entire house. 

Doyoung quickly calms down his son, changes the baby's diaper, then heads back to the kitchen where Taeyong is. 

“Youngchul look! Minyoung is awake now,” Taeyong says while his son looks over at Minyoung. 

“Oh my god, look at that hair!” Taeyong laughs after noticing Minyoung’s unkempt hair. With random pieces sticking up, bangs growing past his eyes, one chunk that decided to be curly, Minyoung wins the award for “Best Bed Head” by a long shot. 

Doyoung moves his son to the side to take a look, his eyes going wide. “Minyoung! What happened?! Your hair wasn’t like this last night!”

With Taeyong’s laughter in the background, Doyoung walks towards the bathroom, grabbing one of your hair clips that you use for your son. He sits Minyoung on the counter so Minyoung can see himself through the mirror, fixing his son’s unkempt hair.

Doyoung grabs the brush and gently brushes the rebellious strands that don’t want to stay up. 

“Minyoung,” Doyoung starts, looking at his son’s reflection through the mirror, “Youngchul and your favorite Uncle came here to see you! Appa will make sure you look just as handsome as him so your Uncle will be jealous that my son is so handsome.”

“Appa! Pa!” Minyoung giggles.

“Yes, I’m appa!” Doyoung clips up Minyoung’s bangs, the hair sticking straight up, “There! Now we can see your eyes!”

He lifts him up into his arms and kisses his soft cheeks, now heading back to the kitchen. After the quick refresher, Doyoung sits back down in his seat, this time with Minyoung in his lap. 

“Good morning, Minyoung!” Taeyong smiles towards the baby, “Youngchul, say good morning to your best friend!” 

Both babies simply stare at each other, Youngchul’s sparkly eyes meeting Minyoung’s soft eyes. These two see each other often, but this is the first time they’ve seen each other this early in the morning. While Youngchul gnaws on his fingers, he gives Minyoung a cheerful smile accompanied by a soft coo. Minyoung returns the smile with his own, happy to see his best friend. 

Once both dads finally finish feeding themselves and their sons, they all find their way to the living room, two boys occupying themselves with the various toys on the mat while their fathers watch. Minyoung quickly finds two of his favorite toys within his proximity and crawls over to his friend, handing him one of the toys. Youngchul grabs the toy, giving his best friend a smile to show his gratitude. Both boys stare at each other again while a couple beats pass. They suddenly both burst out into laughter, seemingly talking in their own language.

“It’s really crazy how much they’ve grown,” Taeyong says, watching the babbling babies on the ground, “It really seems like just the other day they couldn’t keep their heads up.”

“I know,” Doyoung says, leaning over to wipe the drool off of Minyoung’s face, “Before we know it, they’ll be running all over the place with each other.”

“Youngchul has already started walking a bit!” Taeyong says, smiling down at his son as Youngchul crawls towards his father, hitting his hands against his father’s leg.

“Really?” Doyoung exclaims.

“He needs a little help, but with his walker at home, he walks all over the place without us! He even dances when we put music on for him.” Youngchul looks up at his father and whines, hitting his hand against his father’s leg again.

“Let’s show your Uncle Doyoung how well you can walk!” Taeyong says, extending both hands to his son. Youngchul grabs onto his father’s hands with his own and huffs, making the move to stand up on his own. Taeyong helps Youngchul a bit, helping him balance when the baby stands.

Doyoung claps from the side, “Wow! Youngchul look at you! You’re so big now!”

Doyoung counts “1...2...1...2…” repeatedly while the little baby marches on, hands in the supportive hands of his father. Youngchul giggles and smiles the entire way, liking this new form of travel.

“Oh, he’s so happy!” Doyoung says, holding his hands out now when Youngchul gets within distance. Taeyong lets go of Youngchul’s hands, letting the baby balance on his own. Doyoung holds his hands out on either side of Youngchul, getting ready to catch him when he loses balance. Taeyong counts the seconds in the background, seeing how long the wobbly baby can stand on two legs. 

“...7...8...9…!” Youngchul makes it to 9 seconds before he falls, caught easily by his uncle. Doyoung tosses Youngchul in the air, bringing him down to kiss his cheek.

“Good job, Youngchul!” Doyoung cheers. Taeyong laughs from the side, beaming with pride over the accomplishments of his son. He feels a small slap from his leg, grabbing his attention. He looks down and sees Minyoung, this time with his arms up in the air.

“Huh? You want to do what Youngchul just did?” Taeyong asks. 

“Ah!” Minyoung responds, holding up his arms.

“Has he tried to walk yet, Doyoung?” Taeyong asks, bringing Minyoung a little farther away from his dad so he could try to walk to him.

Doyoung shakes his head, placing Youngchul in his lap, “Minyoung can stand with the help of something, but anytime he tries to take a couple steps, he just falls and doesn’t want to try anymore.”

Taeyong nods, setting Minyoung down in a sitting position. “Well, let’s try with Uncle Taeyong, okay Minyoung?” 

Placing both of the baby’s hands in his own, Taeyong helps Minyoung stand just like he helped Youngchul stand. 

“Come to appa, Minyoung! Walk towards appa!” Doyoung cheers, clapping his hands at his son. Minyoung smiles and takes a step, supported by Taeyong. Doyoung cheers, trying to get his son to take steps towards him. Minyoung giggles and stomps over, walking towards his father with the help of his uncle. Youngchul claps from his uncle’s lap, excited off of the energy of the room. With a couple more wobbly steps, Minyoung makes it to his father, cheers erupting all throughout the room. Doyoung grabs his son and kisses his cheek, raining down praises. 

“You did it, Minyoung!! You’re such a big boy now!” Doyoung cheers, holding his son in his arms now. “You must really like your Uncle Taeyong. You wouldn’t even do that with me or eomma.” 

“No, don’t say that!” Taeyong laughs, sitting across from Doyoung. 

“Should we conduct a test?” Doyoung asks in a playful tone. 

“Ah!” Youngchul calls from Doyoung’s lap, responding for his father. 

“I accept that answer.” Doyoung jokes, setting Minyoung on the mat. Doyoung picks up Youngchul in his arms and carefully stands up, placing the baby on the couch for now. Taeyong follows Doyoung as they go to the opposite side of the mat, sitting on the ground. 

“Minyoung, who do you like more: Appa or Uncle Taeyong?” Doyoung asks. “If you like appa more, come and crawl towards appa! If you like Uncle more, go and crawl with him.”

Taeyong cheers from the side, trying to get Minyoung to notice him. Minyoung looks at his appa, then to his uncle, and places his hands on the ground and begins crawling. 

“Minyoung! Come to Uncle! I’ll feed you something delicious!” Taeyong cheers.

“There’s no way my son can be swayed that easily,” Doyoung scoffs, “He knows where his loyalties lie. Minyoung, come to Appa!” 

Minyoung stops in his tracks. This may seem like a hard decision to make, but Minyoung knows exactly where he’s going. Flashing one more smile, showing off his 4 growing teeth, he crawls to the person he loves most.

“I’m so confident you’ll come to Appa, I’ll close my eyes!” Doyoung jokes, shutting both of his eyes. He hears Minyoung’s giggles coming closer to him, opening his eyes so he can take his son into his arms…

“Oh? You like me? Thank you, Minyoung!” Taeyong’s giggles fill the room as he lifts up his best friend’s son, causing the baby to giggle.

Doyoung laughs, holding a hand to his heart in heartbreak, falling back. “Minyoung...How could you?”

Taeyong laughs and hugs Minyoung close, “Snacks win over love, every time.”

Doyoung shoots up, remembering the giggling baby boy on the couch. This is his chance!

“It’s no use, let’s try it with Youngchul now,” Doyoung stands up, determined to win this little competition. 

“Doyoung, just because Minyoung came to me, it doesn’t mean he loves you any less! He’s probably just happy to see his uncle he hasn’t seen in a while.”

“Quiet.” Doyoung says, grabbing Youngchul and placing the baby on the ground. 

“Let’s see who your son chooses,” Doyoung states, kneeling back in his spot, determination filling his features. 

“Doyoung, I don’t want you to be too sad when my son chooses me,” Taeyong says, placing Minyoung on the ground next to him. 

Doyoung chooses to ignore Taeyong’s remark and puts on an excited face, holding out his arms, “I know you like me more! Come to your uncle, Youngchul!”

Youngchul giggles and starts crawling on a straight path towards Doyoung.

“I don’t even think I need to get his attention. He’ll crawl towards me, watch.” Taeyong says, despite seeing his son clearly make his way towards Doyoung. 

Doyoung continues to call Youngchul, cheering him on. Taeyong starts to get nervous when he realizes it doesn’t look like Youngchul will go to Taeyong willingly on his own.

“No, Youngchul! You’re going the wrong way. Come towards appa!” Taeyong’s voice fills with desperation now, trying to get his son’s attention. Youngchul doesn’t even acknowledge his father’s calls as he reaches Doyoung, giggling when Doyoung picks him up and cheers, happy that Youngchul chose him. 

“Hey, that doesn’t mean anything!” Taeyong pouts. 

Doyoung holds Youngchul close and looks towards Taeyong, “It doesn’t feel good, does it?”

Taeyong rolls his eyes, picking up Minyoung. “Look. I bet by the end of the day, Youngchul and Minyoung will choose me.”

Doyoung raises his eyebrows at his friend, “Is that a bet?”

Taeyong nods, “By the end of the day, if both Youngchul and Minyoung choose me, I win. If Youngchul and Minyoung choose you, you win. Loser has to watch both boys for an entire day. Deal?”

Doyoung takes Taeyong’s hand and shakes it, solidifying the little competition they have just established. Doyoung’s competitive nature rarely comes out, but now that he’s a dad now, his competitive side likes to come out more often. 

Throughout the day, the two new dads do what they can to make the babies laugh, both trying to steal away as much time as possible. Doyoung dramatically acts out different fairy tales, Taeyong goes and cooks some yummy new homemade baby food for the two 8 month olds, both dads spending all of their energy both taking care of the two boys and trying to woo their hearts. 

The day drags on as Doyoung and Taeyong bounce around the living room, baby carrier around their waists with their energetic babies strapped in. Doyoung plays soft lullabies in the background, gently humming them as he caresses Minyoung's head against his chest, trying to get his son to take a nap. Taeyong breathes in deep as he makes white noise for the babies, gently  “shhh”-ing through his teeth, hugging Youngchul closer to his chest. Both Doyoung and Taeyong bounce in rhythm with each other, synchronized just like they are in their many dances. 

Doyoung laughs quietly, looking towards his best friend and whispering, “You know, we’ve been idols for so many years. We’ve had countless days of dance practices and then some, but this is the most tired I’ve been in my entire life.”

“You’re right,” Taeyong laughs, “I never knew that such small beings can have so much energy.”

Doyoung laughs again, looking down to check his son. Minyoung’s cheek stays squished up against his father’s chest, his eyes becoming droopier by the second. Doyoung returns to humming the lullabies, slowing down his bounces ever so slightly. Taeyong also looks down to check on his son, turning his head to look into his son’s eyes. Youngchul’s eyes are closed now, his chubby hand curled into a fist as his breathing slows down, indicating that he’s falling deeper into sleep. Taeyong goes into the bedroom, gently placing Youngchul into the crib, carefully taking him out of the baby carrier. He holds his breath as he carefully moves away, holding onto the carrier so it wouldn’t bump into anything. Taeyong let out a soft sigh of relief when it was successful, carefully stepping to the side so Doyoung could place Minyoung inside of the crib as well. Going through the same nerve wracking process Taeyong went through, Doyoung successfully places Minyoung into the crib alongside Youngchul, both babies drifting off to a deep sleep. Taeyong and Doyoung quietly leave the room, Doyoung carefully closing the door. 

Both dads head back into the living room, simultaneously collapsing on the couch in exhaustion. A couple minutes of silence passes between the two of them, both of them too tired to even talk. 

“I just realized we haven’t eaten lunch yet,” Doyoung says from his spot on the couch, making no effort to go to the kitchen to make something for them to eat.

“Should we just order delivery?” Taeyong asks, sinking further down into the couch. His entire body felt like lead, his joints aching and screaming at him to never move ever again. 

Doyoung takes a deep breath and puts all of his remaining energy into getting up from his spot to reach his phone he threw onto the couch hours ago. His soul leaves his body after he opens his phone, remembering that the one thing you told him to do is the one thing he forgot to do. He anxiously bites his lips as he checks the time, 3:23 PM.

He’s too late.

“Hyung,” Doyoung says, nudging Taeyong’s leg. “I’m so screwed.”

“What happened?” Taeyong says, groaning quietly as he sits up as well, looking at Doyoung’s phone. 

“Y/N asked me to take Minyoung to get a haircut before 3:00 and I forgot,” Doyoung says, his eyes wide and heart beating quickly. “What do I do now? It’s past 3:00!”

Taeyong’s eyes fill with concern as well, trying to find a solution to Doyoung’s problem, “Do you think you can go somewhere else? Other places should still be open...”

Doyoung shakes his head, “Y/N’s friend works at that place and not only was she going to give the haircut for free, I also had to return a necklace Y/N borrowed from her.”

Both Doyoung and Taeyong fall silent as they try to come up with a solution to this problem. Doyoung really did screw up this time. 

Doyoung gasps, causing Taeyong’s attention to go towards him, “I have an idea.” 

Taeyong nods, indicating Doyoung to continue.

“I can quickly go over to the salon, drop off the necklace, explain to Y/N’s friend about the situation, then I can run home and cut Minyoung’s hair myself!”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Taeyong asks.

“There’s no other way, Hyung.” Doyoung says, already standing up and making his way back into the bedroom to grab the necklace you borrowed. 

“I’ll grab food while I’m out, please take care of the boys for a bit. You know where everything is, right?” Doyoung asks, putting on a hat and grabbing his keys. Taeyong stands up and yawns, trying to keep up with his busy friend.

“I’ll manage. Keep me updated, though. When are the girls supposed to come back?” Taeyong asks as he follows Doyoung to the front door. 

“Y/N said that they’re not coming back until 8:00 by earliest. Y/BF/N is also trying to choose a place for the rehearsal dinner tonight so they’ll be eating out, too.”

Taeyong nods, sticking his head out of the door, seeing Doyoung off.

“Good luck,” Taeyong says as Doyoung rushes off, making his way to the salon. 

---

The front door opens as Doyoung makes his way back inside, a plastic bag full of food in his hands. 

“How did it go?” Taeyong asks, quickly reaching over to grab the food from Doyoung’s hands as he removes his shoes. 

“It went well, actually.” Doyoung replies, removing his hat. “She was actually really busy with the walk-ins that she also forgot that we were coming in. She said that Y/N never texted her to check if we went, so as far as I know, Y/N doesn’t know that we forgot.”

“Well, that’s good,” Taeyong says as they make their way to the dining table, taking out the food Doyoung brought back. Doyoung makes his way to the sink and washes his hands.

“She also taught me how to cut Minyoung’s hair, so everything should be fine. How did it go over here, though? Are the boys okay?” Doyoung asks as he dries his hands.

“They’ve been asleep the entire time. Minyoung woke up briefly but I just gave him a pacifier and he calmed right down and went to sleep. It’s almost as if my presence alone calmed him down.” Taeyong jokes, sitting down across from Doyoung. Doyoung rolls his eyes, his stomach rumbling at the smell of the food. Both Taeyong and Doyoung didn’t realize how hungry they’ve become. 

Doyoung turns on their TV, putting on a random show that gently plays in the background. Both dads eat with vigor, eating as if this is the first meal they’ve had in a week. They both stuff their faces, not caring if they eat too quickly. 

Once they finish off their meal and clean up, they make their way back into the living room, trying to get in a little bit of relaxation before the two babies wake up. Doyoung puts on videos of haircuts for infants on the TV, studying up before the real thing. 

“I thought you knew how,” Taeyong says, watching the video on the screen as well. 

Doyoung shakes his head, “I mean, the explanation she gave me was super quick and this is, quite frankly, the first time I’ve ever cut hair.”

“Don’t forget, the competition is still happening,” Taeyong says, “Just because you forgot to do the one task your wife asked you to do, doesn’t mean that I hold any sympathy. I will win.”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Doyoung says, too tired to argue at this point. 

Youngchul’s cry rings behind the closed bedroom door, both dads jumping into action. 

“Did you wake up, Youngchul?” Taeyong asks, grabbing his son from the crib. Minyoung cries as well, being awakened by the cries of his friend. 

“Minyoung, it’s okay, appa’s here!” Doyoung shushes his son, picking him up as well. 

Both dads get back into it, changing their sons’ diapers, giving them both a quick refresher, some rice puffs as a little pick-me-up, all before it’s time. 

Doyoung sighs from his spot on the ground, his hands shaking as he examines his son’s hair. Taeyong sits on the couch, Youngchul on his lap as they both watch Doyoung and Minyoung. 

“Do you need any help?” Taeyong asks, just as nervous as Doyoung is. 

Doyoung shakes his head, “I can’t get you roped into this as well.” Doyoung grabs the spray bottle from the side, spraying his son's hair with water and gently brushing it down.

“I can do it. If I deal with Haechan for more than 10 years, I can deal with this.” 

Minyoung looks down at his toys, playing with a small, red, squishy fire truck that he places in his lap. A towel drapes his shoulders as Minyoung stays still, not making any sudden movements as his dad brushes his long hair.

“Okay, I’m going to cut now,” Doyoung says, his shaky hands reaching for the scissors. Taeyong puts a hand over his eyes and puts one around Youngchul’s as well, both boys too nervous to watch. Doyoung measures out his son’s long bangs with his index and middle finger before raising up the delicate hair he holds between his fingers. He grabs the scissors and takes a deep breath, holding it as he begins to cut. 

Snip.

Minyoung’s hair falls around him, landing on the towel and ground. Doyoung cut Minyoung’s hair in a straight line, remembering what your friend and the videos taught him. He takes the hair and textures it, cutting the hair vertically. Doyoung brushes it down to check the length.

“Oh no.” Doyoung says, brushing his son’s hair. 

“What happened?” Taeyong asks, taking his hand away from his eyes. He looks down at Minyoung, trying to see the damage done. 

“Oh no.” Taeyong says as well.

Minyoung’s bangs were definitely shorter. Instead of falling just to the middle of the forehead like it should have been, they fell well above it… well, at least, some parts of it. Doyoung was not careful when he was trying to texture the hair, cutting off big chunks of it causing Minyoung’s bangs to just look uneven. 

“I mean, it looks trendy! The short bangs are the biggest trend for babies these days” Taeyong says, trying to find light in this situation. Doyoung frantically combs his son’s hair, trying to see if his mistakes look noticeable at different angles. Regardless of what he does, Minyoung’s hair just falls back to their place, showing off all of the uneven cuts. 

“It’s not that bad, right?” Doyoung says, brushing his son’s hair again.

Taeyong shakes his head, “Minyoung’s hair has been cut! The instructions are now complete.”

Doyoung nods back, brushing off all of the cut hair from the towel and the ground. He grabs his son and places him next to Taeyong as he gets a broom to sweep up the hair, hiding the evidence. 

Taeyong brushes Minyoung’s newly cut hair, doing all he can to hold back his laughter, “You’re so trendy, Minyoung!” 

Doyoung sits back down after putting everything away, looking at his son again.

“It’s not that bad, I think?” Doyoung says. “Minyoung, look at me!”

Minyoung turns his head to look at his dad, his short, uneven bangs looking worse by the second.

Doyoung couldn’t hold it back anymore and lets out a hearty laugh, “I’m so sorry, Minyoung.”

Taeyong joins the laughter, “What were we thinking?” 

Doyoung shakes his head, laughing, “It’s just hair. It will grow back. It’ll all be okay.”

He picks up his son, looking down into his big eyes. Minyoung looks up at his father and suddenly starts laughing, causing Doyoung to smile back.

“Oh? Are you happy, Minyoung?” Doyoung laughs with the biggest smile on his face. “We can actually see your handsome face now, Minyoung! You’ve never looked happier!”

Doyoung jumps up and bounces his son, trying to keep Minyoung laughing.

“Look at how happy you are, Minyoung!” Doyoung cheers, happiness evident in his voice. Minyoung seemingly assures him through his cheerful giggles that everything will be okay. 

---

Towards the end of the day, Taeyong and Doyoung find themselves both on the ground again, Minyoung at the other side of the living room. 

“Doyoung, just accept your defeat now,” Taeyong says, “You already messed up the haircut, it’s only fair that Minyoung will choose me.

Doyoung rolls his eyes, “If anything, he’s glad that he can see his appa now. He’ll come to me, watch.”

Minyoung sits on the ground, looking at his dad and his uncle at the other side of the room. Doyoung claps his hands together, showing his son the biggest smile out of desperation, calling out to Minyoung to come towards him. Taeyong does the same, bouncing up and down, trying to grab Minyoung’s attention. 

“Snacks, Minyoung. Don’t forget the snacks!” Taeyong says.

“Minyoung, if you love your appa, come towards me!” Doyoung cheers, a slight tone of desperation apparent in his voice. 

“Appa!” Minyoung says, the gummiest smile on his face. Minyoung gets on all fours and starts crawling, this time, not towards Taeyong, but towards Doyoung?

“Minyoung, I love you! You’re doing it!” Doyoung smiles, his expression getting happier by the second.

“Appa!” Minyoung says again, crawling even faster towards Doyoung until he ultimately reaches his father, giggles all throughout the air.

Doyoung tosses his son into the air, catching him and covering his faces with billions of kisses. “You’re so happy, aren’t you? You can see your appa now!”

Even though he lost, Taeyong laughs alongside his best friend, the happiness in the room too contagious to ignore. 

“Alright, Youngchul, it’s your turn!” Doyoung says, standing up and walking towards the baby sitting on the couch. “Wow, I didn’t think Minyoung would actually come to me.”

“You seemed so confident, though, Doyoung.” Taeyong laughs.

Doyoung ignores Taeyong’s comment and places Youngchul on the ground, quickly rushing back next to Taeyong. 

“Youngchul, my darling son, come towards appa! If you love appa, come to me!” Taeyong cheers, bouncing up and down just as he did for Minyoung.

Doyoung hits Taeyong’s arm, “Hey! Don’t steal my methods! Youngchul, come to your favorite uncle! If you come to me, we’ll win!”

Youngchul’s starry eyes look up from his spot at the other side of the living room. He looks up at his dad, smiling as he sees him bounce up and down like a crazy man. His eyes move to Doyoung, watching his uncle clap and give gummy smiles, happily cheering for Youngchul. 

“Appa! Appa!” Youngchul cheers, moving onto all fours, attempting to crawl. 

“Yes! I’m appa! Come to appa!” Taeyong says, doing his best to not jump towards his son. 

Minyoung sits on the right side of his dad, shaking one of his toys proudly, trying to show as much excitement as the two dads in the room are. Youngchul’s attention is immediately grabbed by Minyoung and his rattling toy, causing him to change directions and head straight towards him. 

“Are you coming towards me?” Doyoung says, shocked that Youngchul changed his mind from heading to Taeyong to heading more towards Doyoung.

“Ah!” Youngchul cheers, heading even faster towards Minyoung. He sits right in front of Minyoung, clapping his hands together in delight that he’s closer with his best friend. Minyoung claps too, accidentally giving the toy to Youngchul who now grabs the toy and shakes it himself. 

“He went to Minyoung.” Doyoung says, looking at Taeyong.

“What does that mean?” Taeyong asks, trying to evaluate the situation. 

“This was an unexpected outcome,” Doyoung gets up from his spot, “It’s only fair that I won since Minyoung actually came to me.” 

“Okay, but the competition isn’t technically over! We didn’t make rules if Youngchul went to Minyoung.” Taeyong pouts, reaching over to wipe off the drool that leaks from his son’s smiley face. 

“Just accept your defeat, Taeyong.”

“But I didn’t even lose! The game isn’t over!”

“The game is over! I have 2 points and you and Minyoung are tied for second place with 1 point each!”

“Minyoung doesn’t count!”

“You’re saying my son doesn’t count?”

“Okay, you know that’s not what I mean! I’m just saying that he wasn’t in the rules, so his point doesn’t count!”

“Look, you’re just being a sore loser… Just accept it!”

“But I didn’t lose! Let’s put Minyoung on the couch and try agai--”

“--We’re home!”

The front door unlocks as you walk in, Taeyong’s wife and your best friend trailing behind.

“Where’s my Youngchul?” T/W/N asks, quickly removing her shoes to rush inside as quickly as possible, running past you.

“Ma! Ma!” Youngchul cheers when he hears his mother’s voice. She walks towards the living room, gasping in excitement when she sees her baby.

“Peek-a-boo! There you are!” she smiles, completely ignoring her pouting husband and going over to pick up her son, raining kisses on his cheeks. 

You trail behind her, equally as excited to see your son.

“Minyoung! Eomma’s home!” You cheer, gasping as well when you see your son, except, not quite from excitement. 

“Welcome home, babe!” Doyoung jumps up and tries to hug you, attempting to distract you from the botched haircut that he hopes you didn’t see. You totally saw it. 

You dodge his hug and grab your son, examining his unfortunate hair. “Minyoung! What happened to your hair? Why is it so short? Why is it so uneven?”

Taeyong and Doyoung both do their best to remove themselves from the situation, asking your best friend about the wedding dress as she heads inside, also noticing the botched haircut.

“Doyoung, what happened to Minyoung’s hair?” you ask, frantically brushing what’s left of Minyoung’s hair with your hands.

“Hm? Oh that? Well you see… what had happened was…” he begins, his eyes avoiding your’s. 

“The truth, Doyoung.” you say, knowing well that he would have come up with a crazy story before finally telling the truth. 

“Taeyong and I--”

“--wait, wait, wait. No,” Taeyong starts, “Don’t drag me in on this. If I knew, I would have reminded him. I sw-- OW!” His attempt at defending was cut short when his wife pinched his side.

“You still should have stopped him!” she scolds. Taeyong holds up two hands, planning to not chime in anymore.

Doyoung takes a deep breath, “Okay, okay. I was really busy and overwhelmed with taking care of the three babies--”

“--Wait. Three babies?”

“Taeyong.”

“Sorry.”

“As I was saying,” Doyoung begins again, “I was so busy taking care of the babies that by the time I realized I forgot, it was too late, so I decided to do it myself. I returned the necklace! So don’t worry about th--”

“--You really think the necklace is my biggest concern right now? Our son looks like-- he looks like--” You say, doing your best to control your anger. You take a look at your son again, seeing the Doyoung mini-me look at you with the softest eyes. When Minyoung notices your eyes on his, he smiles, happy to see his mom after an entire day.

“He… actually looks kinda cute.” You say, your son’s contagious smile causes you to smile as well. 

“I know, I know, I'm so sorr-- wait what? He looks what?” Doyoung says, shock prevalent in his voice. 

“He actually does look cute!” Your best friend now chimes in, standing beside you and looking at Minyoung. “This style of hair is very trendy amongst babies. I mean, not this extreme, but still!”

Minyoung’s smiles knowing that your best friend is near. He smiles and leans towards her, wanting to be held by her.

“Oh? You wanna come to me?” she asks as she holds her out her hands and carefully takes your son into her arms. Minyoung is all smiles in her arms, happy to see her after a long time.

“He does look cute, now that I think about it,” Taeyong’s wife says, “Little Minyoung is so handsome, he can pull off any haircut!”

Doyoung and Taeyong look at each other, both awestruck by unexpected reactions they received. You and the girls all gush over the babies, bringing up how one of their favorite celebrity’s baby also has the same haircut.

“So… you’re not mad?” Doyoung asks gently, trying not to get you any angrier if you were.

“I’m not mad. Just next time… let’s leave the haircutting to the professionals, Doyoung.”

---

ahh and it’s done! i had so much fun writing this scenario!

i have more scenarios in the works including some return of the superman situations!

i hope you guys liked this one and let me know if you have any requests! my requests are open :)

let me know what you guys think!

- amy <3

[addictedtothis]

‘Cause all of me, Loves all of you

Annabeth started into the boy's sea-green eyes. He looked right back at her. He shyly handed her journal to her. "Thank you," she whispered silently, almost mutely. The boy smiled and stood up, then offered her a hand and pulled her up. The moment was magical as they stared into each other's eyes, saying nothing, but everything.

Unfortunately, her moment was up; She felt like she was Cinderella, and the clock had just struck twelve. Flustered, the girl spoke up. "Hi, I'm Annabeth."

The boy smiled kindly, still staring into the depths of her gray orbs, and replied, "Nice to meet you, Beautiful," he said, then blushed, as if he wasn't planning on saying that aloud. She blushed–something which she had been doing ever since she'd been accidentally knocked over by the swim team's captain. "I'm Percy."

"Uh," she jerkily pointed towards the doors. "I-I've got to go. See you around," she said, flushing because he'd called her beautiful.

It was only after Annabeth went home that she realized something: "The introductory sentence!" she yelled. Annabeth knew it was a bad omen to ignore the introductory sentence; Bad things happened to those who did. She knew it wasn't just some silly superstition.

That night, she cried herself to sleep.

"Grandpa!" the five-year-old called after she'd finished brushing her teeth that night. Annabeth's hair was half-dried from her shower, and her teeth were minty fresh. She was ready for her bedtime story.

"Are you ready, Daisy?"

Grandfather Chase called his granddaughter Daisy. He said she was pure, and innocent, much like the lovely flower.

She beamed. "Yes!"

"Alright," he chuckled, tucking the girl into her bed before taking a seat at the wooden chair next to it. The old man breathed deeply, and placed his spectacles on the nightstand. He leaned over, switching the night lamp on. Annabeth stared at her grandpa's old, wrinkly face, which was illuminated by a golden glow. He looked into the girl's gray eyes, which matched her mother's, and started his tale.

"Once upon a time," he started, with his rustic storyteller's voice. Grandpa Chase was from a small town in Britain, and though he moved to the United States decades ago, he managed to retain part of his accent. "A clumsy young lad went to an old library. He was working on a project for his college, when a gust of wind—" he blew into Annabeth's face, causing his minty breath to ruffle her golden hair. "—blew his papers away, making them scatter around. The boy was mighty disappointed; He'd worked long and hard to finish his assignment, but now, it was ruined."

Her grandfather sat silently for a while, making the mood mysterious.

"Grandpa? What happened then?" the young girl asked.

"Suddenly, a beautiful young woman walked inside. She helped the man collect his papers that were fluttering in the breeze. A few moments later, all of his things had been collected, but neither was willing to leave, as they stared into each others eyes . . . Alas, not all things last forever, Annabeth. The pair had to part ways, but not without a kiss to the cheek."

"Did they get married and have babies and live happily ever after?" Annabeth blurted out; she'd been reading way too many princess stories.

Grandfather laughed deeply, but it was sad. "They did get married, and they had a beautiful little girl," he sighed. "But they had to leave their baby daughter . . ."

"Where did they go?"

He tenderly stroked the curious girl's hair. "It was their turn to meet the Gods." He stood up abruptly, kissed her forehead and murmured, "Goodnight, Daisy."

Annabeth looked at the doorway long after he'd left.

                                                         ∞

The girl looked above Annabeth's head to read out her introductory sentence. Honestly, it had irked Annabeth for years when people introduced themselves without making eye-contact. Except for that one time, she thought bitterly.

"Hey! I'm Piper. Mind if I sit next to you?" the brunette–Piper–asked.

Annabeth looked up to read her sentence too. It read: (Smile) "Sure, Piper! I'm Annabeth."

Almost mechanically, Annabeth's fake smile slipped off her face, and Piper slumped into the seat opposite to Annabeth's.

"What made you come here?" Annabeth asked.

"Well, it was either introducing myself to a bunch of high-schoolers—" she pointed towards a large group "—or introduce myself to one college-age student."

Annabeth nodded sympathetically; She'd been in that position quite a few times.

"So, just a question," Piper spoke up after a minute; Annabeth looked up from her novel. "Our introductory sentences were pretty . . . chill. Like, what exactly is that supposed to mean? Are we friends? Rivals?"

Annabeth started beaming. "I don't know, actually. Doesn't that make it so much better?" She smiled genuinely. "So, are you in college too?"

"Yeah, I'm a junior at Harvard."

"Same!"

"Cool," Piper leaned forward in interest. "I'm majoring in communications. What about you?"

"Architecture," Annabeth smiled, showing Piper the blueprint that was spread open on the library table.

"Wow . . . what is that?"

"Just a blueprint for a project. I had to recreate a famous building. This is my take on the Parthenon."

Piper nodded appreciatively. "Are you gonna make a model, or something?"

"Yep."

"Hey, I'm heading to the diner for dinner," Piper laughed at her own joke. "Wanna join me?"

"Sure," Annabeth said, packing her things up.

Piper and Annabeth chatted some more. In a matter of minutes, it was like they'd known each other for years.

"Ow!"

Annabeth opened her eyes to see that she'd just crashed into someone and sent all of their things flying. "Sorry," she muttered, not glancing at their face.

". . . Annabeth Chase?" the person–a boy–said, making her look up in shock.

"How do you—? Oh, it's you," Annabeth said, her heart beating at a hundred miles per hour. She needed to get away ASAP. "Come on, Piper," she said, rushing to her feet and dragging her new friend out of the door, while he sat on the ground, looking at her retreating figure.

                                                        ∞

"What was that all about?" Piper demanded when they sat at the diner.

Annabeth tried to stop her hands from fidgeting around, so she clamped them together tightly. "He's . . . Percy Jackson," she said.

"Elaborate," Piper said, looking at her expectantly.

"We bumped into each other in high school, and forgot to say our introductory sentences," Annabeth explained, hoping Piper wouldn't ask for more. But fate was not on her side.

"So?"

"Piper . . ." she said. Annabeth knew why it was a bad omen. Her parents had experienced that first-hand, and her grandfather had seen it.

"Annabeth?" Piper's voice was gentle now. Annabeth felt relaxed; she felt like she could spill her heart to Piper; she felt like she could trust Piper.

She sighed. "I'll have to tell you everything from the top. My parent's died when I was a baby, so I lived with my grandpa. He used to tell me stories about them." She grinned a little, recalling his wispy, balding white hair and the wrinkles near his eyes which showed just how much he smiled. "My parents . . . they didn't say their sentences properly. Apparently, Dad told Grandpa that he forgot about his sentence, and so did Mom. Although my grandfather was concerned, he was happy for them. Later they got married, and I was born a couple of years later. Everything seemed great, until one rainy night. I was at Grandpa's house while my parents went outside. An hour later, the police called, informing him that his son and daughter-in-law were dead. It was a road accident."

"Oh, Annabeth."

"It's okay, Piper. I was a year old. I don't remember them." She smiled sadly. "So, yeah. Grandpa always told me never to forget my introductory sentences, but I did."

"You know," Piper smirked mischievously. "No one said you'll fall in love and make babies with Percy."

"Piper!" Annabeth was appalled, yet she couldn't help laughing. Nothing would happen, right?

                                                        ∞

She was walking home late one night, having just finished reading a book at the library on-campus.

"Annabeth!" a boy shouted.

Annabeth turned around to see a figure walking behind her. The darkness of the night certainly didn't help her nerves, so she started a light jog.

"It's me, Annabeth. Percy!" he continued, which made her start sprinting. But she soon got tired; Carrying a heavy bag wasn't easy whilst running. Shortly, he caught up to her.

"Woah! Slow down. Do you remember me?" he asked.

Annabeth counted to ten and ignored him, hoping he'd get the hint that she didn't want to talk to him and he'd leave. But he was probably the most oblivious person on the planet.

"I'm Percy Jackson . . . Goode High School . . . Um, we were seniors three years ago . . . Any of that ringing a bell?"

She didn't reply and chose to keep walking towards the dorm rooms.

"We crashed into each other one day, in the hallway—Oh! Is this about me calling you beautiful? I swear, I didn't mean to offend you or anything. I'm sorry."

She finally decided to break her silence. "Did you read that from your introductory sentence?"

"My introductory—? Oh, no. Is that a problem?"

"Introductory sentences are everything! They determine our relationship; we can't break the rules!" her breathing quickened; she didn't want to cause either of them harm, but her parents—

"Annabeth? Annabeth!" Her hands started shaking. The blood pounded in her ears. Annabeth had never been one to step out of line, but now, she'd probably broken the worse rule possible. She started gasping for air. She needed more oxygen, quickly. Annabeth slowly sank to the ground; she felt like she was drowning.

"Annabeth, breathe," Percy's voice said. He gripped her shoulders, helping her sit. His voice was shaky, but he tried to control it, like he was panicking too but was trying to keep calm for her sake. "Breathe." He breathed deeply, hoping she'd notice and mimic his actions.

"Are you alright?" Percy asked her a few minutes later. He handed her a water bottle and she took it gratefully. The boy sat on the pavement next to her.

"Yeah." Her voice came out raspy. She cleared her throat. "Yeah. Thanks."

"So . . . what happened?" he pried.

"Uh, panic attack. That happens sometimes, when I get too stressed," she admitted.

"Why?"

She gulped down some more water. "Huh?"

"I mean, what was the trigger this time? Why were you feeling stressed?"

Annabeth bit her lip. She really didn't want to have this conversation with Percy. Especially because it would seem like such a trivial reason to him. But once she started speaking, the words flew out of her mouth on their own accord.

"Oh . . ." he said.

"You probably think I'm a freak now," she muttered, mostly to herself.

"Nah. My parent's story is kinda similar, actually."

Annabeth's eyes shot up, and she rushed to explain. "I never—I mean—Not like, soulmates, or anything." She wrung her hands, frustrated at her inability to explain properly.

Luckily, he seemed to understand. "You were just concerned for us? Like acquaintances?" Was that disappointment in his voice?

She nodded. "I have to get going." She stood up. "It's pretty late. Bye."

"Okay," he said. "Should I . . . walk you to your dorm? Mine's near yours," he nearly begged.

"Uh-alright."

The walk home was silent.

                                                        ∞

"Listen up, Class," Professor Davis announced. "For this semester, we want you to work with the marine biology students to create underwater structures for marine organisms. You can make whatever you'd like. Be creative!"

Instantly, the class broke out into chatters of excitement.

"Silence! I'll be announcing the pairs only once!"

Annabeth leaned forward in interest; they'd never collaborated with students taking other majors.

"Liam O'Brian and Louis Thompson . . ."

"Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson." Annabeth's head shot up, hoping it wasn't true. That night held the most awkward moments in history.

"Alright, that's all. Meet your partners after college today. From tomorrow onwards you'll be working together, after all, so meet them," Professor Davis said. " Oh, Charlotte Williams, please pass the instructions papers around. Thank you." He walked out of the class, leaving the students in a frenzy of questions.

                                                        ∞

"Save me, Piper!" Annabeth complained at the coffee store.

Piper looked at her amusedly. "It's just a project. What could go wrong?"

Annabeth glared at her while she sipped her warm drink, but it was hard to take a pouting girl with a foam mustache seriously.

"You know what happened, idiot," she muttered.

"Annabeth!" Piper laughed. "Everyone embarrasses themselves once in a while."

"You—"

"I could write a novel about the times I've embarrassed myself."

Annabeth stubbornly ignored Piper, and continued sketching in her little journal. She still hadn't wiped away the foam mustache, and Piper found it too endearing to wipe away.

What a mistake.

"Hey, Annabeth. We're working on that project together," Percy said when he saw them at the coffee shop five minutes later.

"Hello." Annabeth smiled forcibly.

"You have a little something . . ." he gestured to her facial foam while hiding a grin.

Absolutely mortified, Annabeth's eyes widened and she wiped the foam away. Meanwhile, Percy sat down at the empty chair at their table. "Hi—"

"Piper. Hey, Percy." she smiled. "I better leave you guys." She stood up.

"Piper, it's alright!" Annabeth rushed out, desperate to have her best friend there. Hopefully she'd save Annabeth from the future awkward moments she'd face. Or maybe not; she certainly hadn't told her about the foam.

"I have a class," she laughed. "Taata!"

Annabeth turned back to the boy that sat perpendicular to her. "So, the project. Have you read the instructions and guidelines?" she asked.

"No," he said sheepishly.

"Okay. Let's go over it now and we can meet up at . . . 5:30 every evening?"

"Sure." He nodded. "The library?"

"Yeah."

Their eyes met for a second too long. Annabeth was the first to snap out of it.

"Okay, the guidelines."

                                                        ∞

"How was it?" Piper asked. She was currently sitting on Annabeth's bed eating Cheetos and getting the orange dust everywhere, but Annabeth—who was usually a neat freak—didn't so much as glance at Piper.

"Fine," she said half-heartedly, while she typed away on her laptop.

"Whatcha doing?"

"I had this brilliant idea, Piper!" she said, making Piper jolt and the sudden change in her pitch. "If I do most of the project myself, I can meet him less. So, I'm researching about . . . water stuff." She went back into her trance.

"Annabeth, they put you guys in pairs for a reason!"

"Whatever, McLean. It's your turn to clean the house. Get off my bed and get the vaccum," she said. It was tit-for-tat.

Piper sighed; it was no use arguing with a determined Annabeth. Yet she shouted, "You know, he might want to actually do the project with you!"

"Or, I might just be doing him a favor!" the gray-eyed girl yelled back.

                                                        ∞

"Hi, Percy!" Annabeth chirped when they met at the library that evening.

"Hello?" He looked around, making sure she wasn't taking to another Percy. She usually ignored him when they met up.

"Guess what?" she beamed. Today, Annabeth was a ray of sunshine, and that honestly worried Percy. "I finished most of the project. You should take it home. Make a couple changes if you'd like," she waved it off, ignoring the boy's hurt expression.

"It was supposed to be a group project." He spoke slowly, as if he were talking to a young child.

"And your point is?" she raised an eyebrow.

His rage flared up, hot and angry. "What?—You know what? Nevermind. You can do the entire thing on your own!" He stormed past her and out of the library.

                                                        ∞

Percy scoffed as he sat down to do his own project. She was infuriating. Instead of manning up and facing her problems with him, she'd chosen to run away from them.

"Fine then. See if I care!" he yelled at the wall.

Percy looked at the instructions again. How in the world would he manage to do the architectural part? He placed his hands on his head and ignoring the migraine that was forming.

                                                        ∞

The next day, he walked up to Annabeth Chase and sternly told her straight on her (pretty) face, "We were supposed to do this together, whether you like it or not," and she nodded meekly, following him to the library.

As if.

This is how it went:

Percy: Hey, uh, Annabeth. D'you have a minute?

Annabeth: What is it?

Percy: Listen, I know nothing about architecture, and I'm sorry for how I reacted yesterday . . . Can we please do the project together? Please?

Annabeth: Fine.

He tried to ignore the way she said it, like she was disgusted but would help him anyway. He had a four months to get into her good books, anyway.

                                                        ∞

"Tell me again, why can't we use cement?" Annabeth asked. For a nerd, she sure had no idea about water. He wondered how she even thought about doing this on her own.

"It pollutes the water."

"Oh . . . then what can we use?" she asked.

Over the course of a month, Annabeth had slowly warmed up to him. They could even be considered as friends.

"Uh, concrete, acrylic and steel, I guess," he said after flipping through his textbook.

She absentmindedly nodded, sketching something on a piece of loose paper.

"Wait, so . . . ?"

And the cycle continued.

                                                        ∞

"Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase," the professor announced.

Annabeth held the model—she didn't trust him after their little rehearsal, where he'd nearly smashed the delicate structure—and they ascended the podium.

"Hello everyone!" Percy smiled.

"That was incredible!" Annabeth yelled, giddy with happiness. He laughed too; they had gotten an A+ grade and their project was considered as the best.

"Careful. You'll fall off the roof!" he said; she was teetering dangerously towards the edge of the roof. They were celebrating at one of Percy's favorite places—the roof on top of an old restaurant.

Annabeth didn't hear him above the sounds of the wind and her yelling, though. His instincts kicked in and Percy jumped up to pull her away from the end.

"Woah!" he said, wrapping his arms around the girl, who was just about to trip and fall. He'd underestimated their momentum though, and they fell on the roof, Annabeth's lips hovering just above his.

"Uh . . ." Annabeth said. She was staring at him, mesmerized by his warm features. The slant of his nose; the pink color on his nose; the blush that spread across his cheeks; the shy smile that graced his lips; his long, long black eyelashes; and the colors that swirled in his playful eyes. Luckily, she was able to compose herself and got off of him, laughing nervously.

Percy ran a hand through his hair, smiling awkwardly. "You wanna leave? It's getting chilly."

She nodded, choosing to look at her sneakers rather than at him, but he caught the blush on her face.

Percy and Annabeth silently walked towards their dorms. It was late at night, and Percy's thoughts drifted back to the night that he'd met her, shouting her name. He still remembered the way she gasped for air, her mind threatening to choke her.

It made him ask her: "Are you still scared about our introductory sentences?"

She looked at him; he'd just jostled her out of the thoughts of her own. Annabeth didn't reply for a while. "No, I guess. I didn't want what happened to my parents happen to us." She shrugged. "Plus, I never broke rules before."

Percy grinned at the way she'd pointedly said the word "before." He was guilty of making her break quite a few rules during the four months they'd known each other. They'd done some pretty epic things like skating in the dorm corridors and visiting the campus roof that was off-limits.

"Bye," Annabeth said—almost unwilling to leave—and it was then that Percy realized that they'd reached their dormitories.

"Bye, Beautiful," he said teasingly, but meaning it wholeheartedly.

He expected her to punch him, but what she did next was completely unexpected.

She pressed her lips to his for a second before pulling away, and blushing furiously, she ran towards her room. He stood there for a minute, frozen, like a statue.

                                                        ∞

"My little girl's in love!" Piper teased with tears—actual tears!—in her eyes.

"Shut up!" Annabeth complained, but didn't try to stop the infectious grin that adorned her face.

"Awww!"

Annabeth threw a pillow at her best friend's face.

Annabeth knew it was considered a bad omen to forget introductory sentences. But for once, she didn't care.

                                                        ∞

Decades later:

Percy and Annabeth had done many things together.

After Annabeth had kissed Percy, she waited to see if he'd ask her out, before doing it herself a week later, and almost screwed up Percy's romantic proposal—with roses and the whole shebang. They'd made an underwater castle of their own, basing it off their project. It had become a famous tourist spot. They'd gotten married, had kids, their kids had gotten married too, and they had become grandparents. Age hadn't taken a huge toll on either of them; Annabeth was still as fresh as a daisy, and Percy was still as handsome as he'd been forty years ago.

Now, they were lounging at the beach with Piper and her husband, Jason; The four of them had become lifelong friends.

The couple smiled at their grandchildren, who were playing in the sand, a few feet away from them.

"We've come a long way," Annabeth said, starting to get philosophical.

"Yeah," he agreed. A memory surfaced to his mind. "You know, introductory sentences aren't everything."

Looking at the smile on her face, he knew she remembered. "We can make our own rules."

Piper snorted, interrupting the tender moment. "Looks like you guys did fall in love and made babies, after all."

"What?" the boys asked.

"Nothing!" Annabeth said, but she was laughing like she knew what Piper was talking about.

Percy shook his head, and wrapped an arm around Annabeth's shoulder, enjoying the sunset, thinking about his life and love.

Fin.

~

So I wrote this story a while ago (November 1st 2020, to be exact) on FF.net under the name LittleMissPrincess. 

I’m really proud of this story -  😅 - so here I am, posting this on tumblr.

Thanks for reading. Byeee!

[crybabytoy59]

The reality of choices we make..

I knew this would be hard but life had steered me to this point & with a need in me that would simply never leave me I had to try after all what had I too loose....so taking a Deep Breath I knocked the Door....She opened the door a look of both shock & startled silence followed ..I spoke first “Please can I come into see you both” again she looked surprised, looking over her shoulder she voiced “there’s someone here to see you darling” I felt sad at here ignoring me...

He appeared out the living room “Fuck Hello Stranger ? “Again I asked “Please can I come into see you both?” This time her look was different as my voice was broken a soft genuine pleading voice...they both said i tandem “Yeah come in ...”

As I passed entering the living room I stood as they sat down She invited me to sit seeing I was very nervous about something she asked if I would like a cuppa “No am fine thank you...Please know I am Very scared right now, as this is the hardest thing I have done in my life...(they were sitting side by side I went off the opposite chai to my knees lifted the envelope from my pocket laying it face up in my pals together I bowed my head putting my arms out with the envelope ...She lifted the envelope as he spoke to me “What the ? Get up ya dozy git”....I snatched from my peripheral vision as she put a hand on his knee leave IT...... she was reading my letter....after reading it she simply got up handing him the letter, as he read the letter she went behind me after collecting something.....”Put your hands behind your head” I felt a scarf being tied around my neck then tied around My wrists securing me there, she simply sat back down saying nothing.....he spoke to her “Is This for Real ? He chuckled.....she took his hand “Come up stairs darling” as they passed me She lifted my chin “Don’t You Dare Move” pushing my head back down they both left.....I could hear them talking often raised voices they talked so long my knees hurt but I Did Not Move I could feel my legs going to sleep....

After what seemed like an eternity they both returned saying nothing they sat down ....Well Well this is a dilemma it’s it not she said to me I nodded....she spoke again “No we don’t nod in this house address us property Slave !” I had waited so very long to hear those words...my response was swift “Sorry Mistress” she went behind me “Open Wide!” I felt the wet hot pants being fed into my mouth....”Close tightly” as I did vet wrapping was pulled around my face gagging me....she sat back down then spoke “ So you want to be a 24/7 Babyslave Do you.....put in Nappy’s always and be our Play Thing... How very interesting...Ok first things first You should know if we both take You on there will be No backing out..you will serve us both, Obediently without question...

Would you do that ? Again I gave a swift answer “Yes Mistress” Slave am in In this room alone ? “No Mistress..Sorry Master” Clever Babyslave that’s better now that’s very muffled from behind your gag so look up at us Both Please And ask for what it is You Truly Desire from Us Both !!” A tear formed as I roared with all I was into the wet piss gag “Please Mistress & Master can I be Your Babyslave !!!!!.....she stood up kissed my cheek then put a pillow case over my head.....She Barked at me Stand up Slave !...follow us as I followed them upstairs my heart was pounding as the pillow case bellowed in & Out with each breath......She Spoke “Let’s Get you striped as we are Both going to give you a Very thorough Spanking !! Then You will go home and make arrangements to give up your Old life....as we prepare your new life Slave !!!.....

I was stripped naked bent over both there knees as the other held my arms I was spanked till my rear was red after this she tied me over a chair & I was flogged, belted, paddled, the lastly caned until I was Crying uncontrollably...after this I was put in my clothes and sent home in floods of tears.....over the next Three weeks I sold all my worldly goods gave up my flat on the date they had both given me....the 1st of June I made my way to there home nervously hoping I had made the right choice in life.....

Again I knocked the door not so much as a bag of clothes, she opened the door smiling warmly “Hello You..in you come”  as I passed she smiled into the bathroom Sweetheart” I did as told there was a small black stool &a bin with a black plastic bag in it. She again spoke smiling “Strip Put All your old clothes in the bin, then sit on the stool I will be back in a moment” I stripped putting my clothes into the bin I sat on the stool as she came back in with a small white bag, Turn & face the mirror Please” she tilted my head forward then I heard a buzzing sound as she started cutting my hair off ! My head was fully shaved then foam applied as she shaved me completely bald but to my surprise she shaved my eyebrows also I said nothing she Kissed my cheek “Well Done you remember to Only talk when spoken too” I instantly replied “Yes Mistress” she gave a chuckle at this, next she had me stand & put the stool to one side she applied foam over my entire body having me bend over to do my rear as I was Very hairy there, I started to heat up and a slight odour filled the room to leave me in no doubt what she had just done “Hands on your head Please” I was then left for 20mins then she wiped me down removing all the foam with All my hair I was now voided of all body hair ! Next she had me put on a clear pvc suit with a hood that zipped up The rear in the hood was a dummy hole at my mouth, through this she put a large dummy then spoke “Ok Let’s Get you through for Your “little talking to”....she pushed me down on all fours then patted her thigh “Heal” I crawled with her into the living room she put the stool from the bathroom in the middle of the room “Sit” was all she said....I sat looking as she joined him on the couch they kissed Smiling Wide like the cat that had the cream she began...

Now Sweetheart you’re old life is over You belong to us now, so let us explain what you are to us...A Baby ...You Are two years old...You Are a Baby girl...you will be in Nappy’s 24/7 ..these you will use fully wetting & soiling Yourself, you will Never use the toilet as that’s for adults....You will be dressed as a Baby girl always, even when we are out you will have Baby girl clothes on under what we decide to put you in...You will show Obedience in everything we ask of you, You will be put in bondage Every night at bedtime, Day time Bondage will become apparent as we train you, You Are here For our Pleasure Not Yours..But we are fair & if you Please us well we will time to time reward You...You will serve All our friends in this way also as we have made lots of friends in the bdsm community this You Will Do Without Question.....Now You Will call me Mistress Mummy” she looked at him as he smiled then spoke “You will Call me Master Daddy”

She looked at me “Aaawwww Sweetheart why are you crying? Are you just so happy to be our Baby Girlie?” I nodded ...then she got up kissed him,looking at me she cooed “One last thing Crybaby...You will use GAGA ..for Yes GOGO for no...As you will Not talk until your Baby talk lessons are done...understand?” GAGA! Clever girlie Crybaby Toy all fours and follow me....as I crawled after her there was a loud crack ! My rear exploded in pain “Best behaviour for Mistress Mummy Crybaby!!!....or else Madam” I crawled up stairs after her into the up stairs bathroom the bath was filled with bubbles, I felt the cool air as the zip came down “Clever Baby girlie into your bath as we have to get you all cute and pretty don’t We” GAGA .....she patted my sore red mark “in Crybaby!”

She put on a clear pvc apron then got a sponge then started washing me all over with a strawberry soap, the smell was Devine I couldn’t help getting excited, this she wiggled playfully (I had forgot how much she enjoyed Mind games) Your a Very Naughty girlie Crybaby aren’t You?” GAGA..she chuckled “My my what fun we are going to have, but Sweetheart unfortunately it’s not going to be fun for You Am Afraid...As last time You Were Very Disobedient..But don’t fret That’s All going to Change Now Crybaby Toy....up you get ! She dried me off then put a blindfold on me “Let’s Get you Dressed for today Crybaby Sweetheart” I crawled to another room onto something plastic & padded, lay on your back, as I did she gave me a bottle I could feel it was quite large around a pint the teat was also like the dummy very large, I knew what she wanted as I sucked the bottle she lubed my rear pushing a rubber gloved finger

Deep into my rear, this made me moan, then Two fingers I felt something cold then lub being squirted up inside me quite a lot of it next I felt a plug it was quite large but had ridges all around it, my breathing quickened as it grew wider as she inserted it too al most the widest part I knew this was going to hurt, I blurted Out GOOGOO ! She smacked me lightly “Hush now Baby & drink your milk Mummy help” she took my shaft holding it slowly squeezing it till I was moaning again, then as I relaxed she slid it home onto the narrow base “Clever girlie Crybaby that’s much better see what a clever Baby You can be, Now lift Your botty!” I felt her slide a nappy under me as she closed it I could feel it had a pad inside it but must still have been quite a large one as it felt bulky, she again told me to lift up as I did a second Nappy went on then a third and fourth ! I could now not close my legs Such was the bulk, next I had rubber pants put on the thigh cuffs felt wide as did the tummy band, next came frilly rumba pants followed by tights then suspenders that she put too the tights, next she sat me up pulling over a soft silk top it felt lovely this was followed by some sort of petticoat then a large heavy Dress, a pair of Oprah gloves were last...i was just finished the last of my formula when she gave me a second bottle “Clever Baby Finnish that one to Sweetheart, so we can get you down stairs as Master Daddy will be all set up by Now Crybaby, for Your Big Day !” Her voice had changed it had that wicked tone to it I had heard before When i subbed for her as she had a Very wicked side I had always Topped from the bottom..But this was different they would decide They would set my limits....I was feeling scared at what lay ahead but I truly wanted to please them show them I could be a good submissive to Own ....the very thought of it made me tingle inside......She patted my rear firmly “Finnish that Now Crybaby Swallow faster !...Clever girlie Crybaby that’s the way..yes all of it...come on Baby Toy..Clever girlie..Open Wide!” I got my dummy back in.....”Let’s Get you down to Master Daddy” As I crawled down the stairs I thought I could hear voices...

As I entered the living room I was led to the stool “Sit up Crybaby!” My blind fold was removed but I could not see due to a bright light in my face, Mistress Mummy tilted my head backwards as she did someone was putting ear plugs Deep into My ears I felt foam forms put over them hugging my ears then some sort of tape Master Daddy appeared holding a rubber face mask this he pushed on me smoothing it out then zipped it up the rear, he then lifted a large pink frilly posture collar wrapping it around my neck clipping it at the rear I felt Mistress Mummy let my head go as she set about lacing it up ! I started to panic slightly that they would choke me but Master Daddy smacks my inner thigh “Relax Crybaby your fine just breath slowly..look I can get my fingers in (he pushed a finger at my throat, it was just in my mind due to the sensory deprivation) Clever Baby that’s better..No Babyslave tears don’t wash your a Crybaby aren’t You ?” Gaga...they both giggled as they stood up “Handies behind your back Daddy told me I felt my gloved hands pushed into a narrow leather sleeve, I was having an arm binder fitted ! Mistress Mummy smacked my thigh hard “on your Knees  Crybaby !” As I did Master Daddy pulled up a small frame, it was a T shape with a padded top bar this had a wide belt hanging from it, a 45degree bar came from the upright bar too just above the top bar as I bent over the bar my head went into the half circle as Master Daddy clipped the collar too the frame Mistress Mummy was pulling the wide belt over my back tightly, what happened next had me squeal into my Dummy as they took a leg each pulling them apart then forward to cuffs at the T legs they were shaped like a large Y under me at the bottom of the Y behind me Master Daddy was fixing a long pole that went well above me this too had a leather strap he was now holding as Mistress Mummy clipped the arm binder too it Master Daddy pulled my arms up behind me untill I patted feeling unable to breath properly due to my new Bondage position....Mistress Mummy Spoke “Open Wide for Master Daddy Crybaby Sweetheart !!” As I Open Wide he removed my Dummy hanging it around my head, I could now see The next Dummy it was a 4” cock dummy with a full face harnessing as the cock gag went into My mouth I clamped it worried over vomiting, Mistress Mummy smacks me again “Crybaby Open Wide!” The cock Dummy was almost at the back of my throat when I felt something shoot out of the end “Swallow Crybaby!!” As I did my throat felt funny...I hung panting holding the cock in my mouth as they simply stood by..Mummy spoke to Daddy..”She has had both bottles and her gel, so am going to rub her tummy too start her off” as she lifted the dress she started rubbing my tummy ? Just then Master Daddy stopped looking at his watch then pushed the cock dummy all the way home ! Then started strapping the harnessing behind my head through the slots in the huge bonnet they put on me ! He went out of sight..again I could hear voices but in the distance, as Mistress Mummy rubbed my tummy I was aware of movement I stared to feel as if I needed to go to the toilet ! She tugged my dress back down & she too disappeared behind me, slowly the light dimmed, There was a camera in front of Me !...

Everyone this is Crybaby potty girlie she has been a Very Naughty girlie so we are going to punish her, Mistress Mummy has given her a very special gel up her botty and shortly she Will go poopies uncontrollably, she has had two pints of very special formula that will make her wet her Nappy’s also uncontrollably she will feel she has to constantly go pee’pees, we will all know when this happens as she will ring her Sissy bells ( now I knew what mummy had been clipping on my feet mittens and hood !) She is going to cry for you all as in her Tumblr Page stories you have all read, Master Daddy & I Are going to have her in the punishment frame until bedtime so please enjoy what we have in store for her till then” Mistress Mummy was loving this such humiliation & control over him, who would have thought this day would come from all that simple play years earlier.....Fuck they were both going to have such fun with this....

Just as she was thinking that she heard him Draw a Deep Breath then go Silent his face behind the rubber hood going bright red with effort as there New sissy Baby Toy pushed past the plug filling the first Nappy..each nappy but the last had been cut with a small blade to let the fluids pass from each.....26000ml in total ! They were going to make him fill them all before bedtime, So Mistress Mummy had lots of material for tomorrow’s fun....She was soaking wet now dripping with Dominant lust for his Deep submission...a submission she would take from him every last ounce as he caved to There whimsical needs ....There Truly diabolical Training would bring complete Obedience to them...she took his hand putting it to her sex, as the unmistakable sound of him filling his Nappy !!...

[wild3flow3r]

Holidays 2023

December 21st, 2023

When Lorelai and Harry spoke about their Christmas trip to Hawaii this holiday season, most of their relatives started off jealous that they would be able to celebrate in warmer weather. But then each time they would see the jealousy fade as they realized the couple was going to put themselves through it by bringing a seven month old baby along for those long flight times. Including the layover in Los Angeles, the trip would take well over twenty hours, and they’d have to do it twice in a matter of two weeks.

Yes, when they got off the plane in Hawaii, the parents were well exhausted while their son, Wyatt, looked like he was prepared to keep them awake for as long as possible. But the joke didn’t feel like it was on them, because they were still in Hawaii, were going to spend the next two weeks together as a small happy family on the beaches while their families had to suffer through the miserable cold. Oh no, they won big time.

“This is it,” Harry mumbles with half lidded eyes. He’s carrying most of their luggage on his back and rolling three suitcases around them. He dips the hotel key card into the slot on the door and opens it after the beep. He gestures Lorelai to head in before him with a sleepy smile.

Lorelai carries one of their carry on bags on her shoulder and Wyatt against her chest. The baby’s taken to pulling her hair lately and currently he has a huge chunk of her hair grasped in his little fingers. She steps into the room first and flicks the lights on. The first room was a living room, equipped with a sofa, chairs, a coffee table, a television, and a fireplace. A balcony was attached to this room with a small sitting area so they could look over the beach in front of the hotel. They walk into the bedroom, which was filled with a king-sized bed, a baby crib as per requested, a closet, dresser, the typical hotel room things.

Harry pushes their suitcases to the side for now until they can find the energy to unpack later. He sticks his arms out towards Lorelai after she tries, and fails miserably, to hide another painful gasp. “Come on bugger, come to daddy. Mumma likes her hair on her head.”

Wyatt only lets go of the hair after a little coaxing, and then joyfully falls into his father’s arms. Lorelai collapses on their bed with a soft thud. She lets her eyes shut momentarily, feeling the bed dip under Harry’s weight right next to her. She opens her eyes to him bouncing Wyatt on his knee, the baby falling into a fit of giggles at the bumping motion.

“He needs to be fed, and then a bath,” Harry murmurs while brushing back that boys short curls. “You sleep, I’ll take care of him.”

Lorelai starts to sit up, ready to refuse, but Harry places a hand on her thigh.

“It’s okay. You entertained him for most of the plane ride, I can take over for now.”

“I’ll just take a quick nap,” she relents.

But a quick nap turned into nearly four hours. She honestly would have slept longer, would have never woken up, if the last time she’d eaten was on the plane, and even that she barely touched what the flight attendants had given her. She rubs her hand over her face, slightly miffed that Harry never bothered to wake her so he could take time for himself to rest, but as she padded into the living room any negative feelings she had melted away.

Harry sat on the sofa shirtless, his nose stuck in a book he had  tried reading on the plane, but thanks to Wyatt, never had a moment to open it. He peeked up over the pages when he heard the door open, and his mouth twitched up in the smallest smile at the sight of his wife. Wyatt laid on a small rug not far from Harry on his stomach, playing with a few of his toys that were set in front of him. Both of his parents know he’s going to be a menace as soon as he learns how to crawl, and although he hasn’t succeeded to do so yet, he tries to every day. He screams in delight at the sight of his mother and shakes a chubby fist at her before focusing back on his rattle.

Lorelai sits next to Harry, stretching her legs out on the couch so that her toes poke against his thigh. He grabs one of her ankles and squeezes, going back to reading his book.

“I’ve ordered room service. It should be here soon.”

“You’re a true gift from God, Harry Styles.”

He smirks, but says nothing more. His thumb and forefinger begin to knead into her ankle. Lorelai sighs in content, leaning further back into the couch. Even before all of the traveling, they really needed this vacation. They haven’t been on one since their honeymoon two years ago, and ever since the two of them have been working non-stop. First with their respective jobs, and then Lorelai got pregnant so they put all of their energy towards that, and then even more energy towards Wyatt once he was born. They had meant to wait until the summer to travel somewhere, when Wyatt was over a year old, but they had been wearing themselves too thin.

The only reason they were here now was because Harry demanded they do it. The couple had started snapping at one another more often than they used to before. But unlike before when it would end at snapping and the two would makeup, heated arguments would start instead. With all of the stress from their jobs and keeping Wyatt happy and healthy, they forgot to take a second for themselves, for each other. Harry sprung the idea of Hawaii out of nowhere, at least for Lorelai, because he’d already booked the plane tickets and hotel when he told her. At first Lorelai tried to refuse, she was even a little annoyed with him, that is until he gave his reasoning.

“We’re going to fall apart if we don’t go. And I don’t mean that in any funny sort of way like an exaggeration that our bodies are going to give up on us. I mean our relationship. I have no idea what projects you’re doing at work anymore, you don’t know that I’m thinking of opening another office for my firm somewhere else in London. We need to regroup somewhere not here, because I can’t lose you Lorelai. Not now, not ever, and you can throw a fit all the way to the beaches, because you and Wyatt are coming and that’s final.”

His bottom lip had wobbled, his eyes red from frustrated unshed tears. Lorelai hugged him then and started crying herself against his chest. They talked that night, talked about anything and everything. It’d been the most they talked to each other in months about something other than Wyatt.

Lorelai’s eyes were drooping again by the time the food arrived. Harry went to answer the door and Lorelai picked Wyatt up so he didn’t get in the way. He, of course, grasps onto her hair.

“I should cut it again,” Lorelai mutters while Wyatt plays around, acting like he’s going to tug and then doesn’t.

Harry tips the service and shuts the door. He looks over them with fondness. “You’d have to go bald then. He’ll like the challenge of shorter hair.”

Lorelai huffs, agreeing. When Wyatt lets go of her hair, distracted by his father’s tickling fingers, Lorelai ties it back and out of reach. She wraps her arms around Wyatt and pulls him closer to her chest. “Let me nurse him and put him down to sleep, and then I’ll be ready to eat.”

Harry nods and moves around to get the meals ready. Wyatt latches on Lorelai’s chest, and she massages the back of his head with soft fingers. He falls asleep within no time, and when Lorelai deems he’s had enough milk, she carefully moves him to the other room and into his crib. She shuts the door halfway as she leaves him. Harry had the food set up on a small table now. Lorelai sits next to him.

“We’ve got that couples spa thing that you wanted booked for tomorrow. The hotel reassured me again that their hotel daycare is the best around.” Harry murmurs before he starts eating.

“Are you still going to be taking those surfing lessons?”

“The day after next,” he confirms. “You can still join me if you’d like.”

Lorelai snorts and shakes her head. “It’ll be more fun on the beach with Wyatt watching you fall over.”

Harry pouts. “What do you mean. I’m a pro.”

“Not if you’re getting lessons babe.”

“They’re just to remind myself how to do it properly. I used to surf a lot on family vacations when I was younger.”

“Yeah, when you were fifteen and didn’t have any back problems.”

Harry shifts in his seat, as if just the mention of it caused a flare up of pain. “Oi, just shut it and eat your food.”

Lorelai grins, trying and failing terribly to hold back a laugh. They eat in a comfortable silence for the rest of the meal, taking their time scanning over each other and then the view from their balcony, and then back to each other. Harry’s left hand is holding onto Lorelai’s right one over the table, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. He nudges his foot against hers and she nudges his right back.

“It’s been a while,” Lorelai mumbles, not outright saying what it is, but knowing full well that Harry will understand what she is talking about.

“Have we at all since Wyatt was born?” His eyes look up, trying to calculate how much time has passed since they last had sex.

“We’ve done little things, but nothing much since I was pregnant. My whole body hurt for weeks after the birth, and we’ve been too tired to even think about it.”

“I’ll plan something special then,” Harry says, lifting her hand to kiss the back of her hand.

Lorelai rolls her eyes playfully. “It doesn’t have to be anything special.”

“For you, I want everything to be special.”

Lorelai grins and eventually nods. They finish eating and Harry stands to put the dishes outside of the door to be picked up. Lorelai moves back to the couch and picks up Harry’s book. It’s one she’s read before and bothered Harry for weeks to read himself so they could talk about it. She scans over the page, and nearly turns to the next one before it’s plucked out of her hand.

“Hey,” Lorelai pouts, looking up at Harry.

“You’re gonna lose my spot,” he fake moans. He sits next to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

Lorelai places her hand against his bare chest and thrums her fingers against the skin. She nuzzles her head against the crook where his arm meets his shoulder. Harry leaned his cheek against the top of her head and holds the book open.

“You’re at a good part,” she whispers.

“Shhh, don’t spoil it.”

“I would never.”

Lorelai looks up so she’s watching him. His eyes flick down to hers momentarily before back to the book. He’s smiling. “You’re distracting me.”

“Well I want to see your reaction.”

Harry lets out an amused breath. She watches as he mouths the words silently to himself and his eyes flick over the page. She kisses his chest once and goes back to reading with him when she hears him turn the page. They stay like this for a while, Lorelai reading the pages faster than Harry and then turns to see how he reacts. When Harry finishes the chapter he realizes Lorelai’s soft breathing and that at some point she had fallen asleep.

He presses her nose against her hairline. “I love you,” he mumbled. He sets the book aside and then carried her off to bed.

December 25th, 2023

“Merry Christmas, baby.” Lorelai picks Wyatt up and out of his crib, talking in a hushed tone to make sure she doesn’t wake Harry up yet. Wyatt grabs onto Lorelai’s teapot charm necklace and stares at her with wide green eyes. “Let’s wake up daddy, and then we can see what presents Santa brought you, yeah?”

Lorelai maneuvers them so she’s kneeling on the bed beside Harry. He’s lying on his stomach, his head facing them, and his breathing slow. Wyatt had decided he wanted to stay up and see Santa Claus arrive himself,  at least that’s what the two of them joke to each other. Either way, Harry was on night duty, and Wyatt kept Harry awake until the early hours of the morning. Now the baby was well rested, and Harry probably felt like he’s only been asleep for only five minutes. Lorelai knows the feeling well.

She places the chubby baby on the back of Harry’s neck. Wyatt practically screams with glee and loses his hands in his father’s curls. “Da!” He squeals, something that made Lorelai only a teensy bit jealous. Wyatt only knew two words so far, Da and Waf, as in Waffle for their dog.

Harry groans momentarily and slowly blinks his eyes open. At first he can only see the red and green stripes of Wyatt’s pajama bottoms, but as the baby kicks his legs Harry can spot Lorelai’s amused grin in the background.

“Da. Da. Da. Da. Da.” Wyatt repeats over and over again, wriggling around so he’s practically jumping on Harry’s head.

“Hey mate,” Harry mumbled, holding onto his son’s legs so he doesn’t tip over. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Lorelai replies, scratching a hand over Harry’s back. Harry hums in delight.

“Think it’s time to open presents, hm?”

Lorelai picks Wyatt back up, but immediately he wants back to his father. Harry holds him upright before twirling the both of them around the room. Wyatt laughs and hits his father’s bare chest.

Harry had ordered a small, pre decorated tree from the hotel services the day before. Now, it was filled with presents underneath that the parents had set up the night before. Wyatt marvels at the shiny wrapping paper. It’s a slow morning and they take their time letting Wyatt open his presents and inspect them. He’s pretty pleased with all of them, but he loved playing with the wrapping paper even more. Eventually, they started getting ready for the day.

By the time Lorelai emerged from the shower, Harry had himself and Wyatt ready. They were in the living area, Harry kneeling behind Wyatt and holding him so he could play with his new blocks. They were in the new shirts Lorelai had picked out for them a few weeks ago. It was a shirt Harry would never pick for himself, usually preferring simple shades to wear, but Lorelai demanded he wear some ‘tropical’ clothing for their trip.He was donning a yellow button up she bought with a black undershirt underneath.

“Remember what we’ve been practicing, hm?” Harry says to Wyatt, unaware to Lorelai’s presence.

“And what have you been practicing?”

Harry jumps and his eyes flick to Lorelai’s immediately. “Oh, nothing.”

Lorelai raises an eyebrow. “Nothing?”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Yes I’m sure.” He stands and picks Wyatt up. “Come on now Skipper, let’s get to the beach.”

Lorelai eyes him suspiciously but follows Harry out of the room with their towel bag over her shoulder. On the elevator, she starts spreading the sun cream on Wyatt’s skin, much to his dismay. After another wriggle and more missed skin, Lorelai sighs.

“Look Wyatt. Daddy’s getting it too,” Lorelai hums.

“Wha-”

Lorelai presses the sun cream against Harry’s cheek. Wyatt burst out in giggles at his father’s shocked face. While distracted, Lorelai was able to finish rubbing all of it into the baby’s skin. Then she rubs in the white streak on Harry’s cheek. Harry playfully glares at her, but says nothing.

The beaches here are beautiful. The one they’ve been going to has been pretty exclusive to the hotel guests only. They set up in the spot they’ve claimed at their own over the last few days. They take out their towels and settle down onto them. Lorelai holds Wyatt while Harry sets up their beach umbrella. He strips out of his shirt and then he takes out the first pair of sunglasses he sees, Lorelai’s, and puts them on. And then he hands Wyatt a shovel and a small pail. He didn’t really know how to use it yet, but he enjoyed knocking over whatever towers Harry was successful in making.

“I’d say today’s been a hit so far,” Harry starts after a while of comfortable silence. He builds another castle for Wyatt to knock down.

“I would agree,” Lorelai hums and pushes some of the curls out of the baby’s face.

Harry leans over and presses a kiss against Lorelai’s knee. “I love you.”

Lorelai grins. “I love you too.”

“So me and Wyatt have been practicing something,” Harry finally admits.

Lorelai laughs. “And what is it?”

“Sort of like an extra Christmas present.”

“Well you two have already gotten me so much.” Lorelai nearly burst out crying from all of the presents that were labeled to her this morning from Wyatt. She got about a dozen different things telling her she was the number one mum in the world. Harry himself let a tear drop when he opened similar presents ‘from’ Wyatt.

“Well this is kind of different.”

Alright. I’m ready.”

Harry sits back now and brings Wyatt up into his lap. Harry leans down towards Wyatt’s ear and starts humming a ‘m’ sound. It takes about a minute, but finally Wyatt claps his hands together and screams, “Ma!”

This time Lorelai does cry. Wyatt falls into her arms easily, giggling against her chest. “Good job baby,” she whispers in fear that if she were to talk any louder than her voice would crack.

“Merry Christmas.” Harry rubs his hand against Lorelai’s leg. “To the best one I’ve had yet, and to many more just like it.

December 31st, 2023

Lorelai and Harry weren’t drunk, but they were certainly tipsy. Wyatt’s been asleep for a while now, and one of the best things about Wyatt at this age was that once he fell asleep he usually stayed asleep until morning. Harry had started the fire about an hour before. Lorelai had laid out some blankets and pillows in front of it. They dedicated this night to themselves, something they haven’t done in so long.

They were both naked under the blankets, breathing heavy as they both come down from their highs. Harry was to her side now, but still hovering over her. He’s got a hand wrapped around one side of her neck as his mouth nibbles at the other.

Lorelai scratches down his back. “At least you haven’t lost your touch.”

“Never lose it for you, Skipper,” he mumbles against her skin.

She grins, a dopey look on her face. “We should go on more vacations.”

Harry hums and nods. “I agree. Although maybe next time it should be just you and me that way we can do this all the time.”

“We should let my parents babysit more often. They always let us know that they can. We could take a weekend trip around Valentine’s Day.”

Harry lifts his head far up enough just so she can catch his grin. He presses his lips against hers in a soft kiss. “That sounds good to me.”

“We should also see a counselor, I think. Just in case.”

Harry squeezes her hip. “I’ll set up an appointment as soon as we get back.” A few years ago Lorelai knows Harry probably would have never agreed to that term, but after a few years of going to therapy himself and seeing how it’s helped him it’s easier for him to agree to it now.

Lorelai loses one of her hands in his curls and pushes him back towards her neck. He chuckles and obliges, nibbling on the skin again. But then he kisses lower to her shoulder, and then her chest until he disappears underneath the blankets. Lorelai shifts in anticipation, but Harry holds her body down with his hands as best he can.

“Harry,” Lorelai whines and reaches down to hold him. He intertwines her hands with his own.

“Happy New Year Skipper,” He mutters against her thigh.

After a bit more fun, and quite a bit more drinking, the couple fell asleep on the floor. This was probably a huge mistake for Harry’s back problems, but when Lorelai opened her eyes the next morning she knew she was in the absolute best place in the world. They are facing each other, and Harry’s arms are wrapped tight around her. His nose is pressed against her hairline and he’s snoring softly. It takes a moment for Lorelai to realize what had woken her up. Wyatt is moaning for his parents from the bedroom.

“What’re you doing?” Harry mumbles when Lorelai shifts in his grip.

“Wyatt,” Lorelai responds simply. She sits up too fast and then has to take a moment to gather her bearings. She and Harry haven’t drunk like that in a long time. A pre Wyatt time. It was hitting both of them hard.

Harry hums in response. He presses his palms against his eyeballs before slowly sitting up himself. “Are we going to try the bottle today?”

They’ve been trying to wean Wyatt off of breastfeeding recently because they knew if they waited until he was older it would be harder to do so. Lorelai nods.

“Alright. You get the bugger and I’ll warm up a bottle.”

Lorelai puts Harry’s t-shirt on before walking to the bedroom. “Welcome to the New Year darling,” Lorelai says while picking up her son. Wyatt still cries, but they lessen when he’s in his mother’s arms. “Should we go see what Daddy’s making for you?”

“Da?” The baby whimpers.

“Mhmm. Dada is making you an extra special treat.”

After Wyatt’s diaper has been changed, Lorelai takes him out into the living area. Harry’s already sitting on a chair with a bottle in hand. He’s wearing pajamas Lorelai had bought him for Christmas, a yellow t-shirt and a pair of pants that she thought would look funny on him. They do, but also he somehow makes them work that that makes her furious to some extent. He’s also wearing his pair of white sunglasses. His hair is sticking out all over the place.

Wyatt practically bursts out of Lorelai’s arms to Harry’s. Harry adjusts him in his lap before pressing to bottle to his lips. For a few minutes he refuses, but eventually Harry can coax him into drinking from it.

“Don’t know how you do it. I would have given up by now and just let him latch on.”

Harry smiles at her, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. An oncoming headache, she presumes. Harry has never been good with those. She goes to grab him some aspirin.

“Thank you Skipper,” he mutters before taking the pills. He shifts Wyatt over to one leg and then pats the other. Tentatively, Lorelai sits. Harry presses a kiss against the back of her shoulder.

Lorelai knows Harry can feel it too, the happiness, the peace, the calm, the love. The love the couple held for each other, that they held for their baby boy, and the love the baby boy shared right back with them. 

“Happy New Years.”

Harry kisses her shoulder again. “To many more happy years with the two of you. And maybe some more of us.”

“Don’t get cheeky. I told you, not for a while.”

“I can wait. I’ll wait forever for you.”

“Oh, don’t be such a sap,” Lorelai hits his shoulders playfully. Wyatt watches up at them with wide green eyes.

“There’s no other way I can be, Skipper, not around you. I love you too much.”

[searchingwardrobes]

Happy belated birthday, @courtorderedcake​ ! I am so sorry this gift is late! It’s been a week, we’ll just say that, and I wanted your gift to be good. I know you have been through SO much difficulty, my dear, and I wanted to write a fic focusing on Emma’s tough past and her strength because I know you identify with her so deeply. This turned out going in a much different direction than I anticipated, especially with the Daddy!Charming at the end. Nevertheless, I hope you like it! I based this on the song of the same name by Pearl Jam, and the two lines I used at the end made me think of you, Court, as well as Emma: “She holds the hand that holds her down/ She will rise above.”

This fic doesn’t follow the season seven timeline simply because it makes my head hurt and it was just easier to ignore it. I also needed Emma’s past in the Land Without Magic to touch her in the present, and the whole “all the realms are in Maine” wouldn’t really work here. Therefore, this is three years after the season six finale. Henry is sixteen Neal Nolan is three, and baby Hope is two months old.

Summary: The past collides with the present when Emma gets an upsetting phone call. But she isn’t a lost girl anymore.

Rating: T for brief discussions of child neglect, emotional abuse, and alcoholism

Words: 3,500 and some change

Also on Ao3 and part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @xhookswenchx @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @jennjenn615​ @distant-rose​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @optomisticgirl​ @spartanguard​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @tiganasummertree​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @snidgetsafan​ @thislassishooked​ @branlovestowrite​ @scientificapricot​ @stahlop​ @hollyethecurious​ @shireness-says​ @winterbaby89​ @wellhellotragic​

Neither Emma nor Killian would say that their pasts were a faded, distant memory. Trauma just wasn’t that easy to get over. They would say, however, that this life they’d built in Storybrooke made the memories easier to handle. They had legit, “I’d go to hell and back for you”, family and friends. They had the home of their dreams where they could give Henry and Hope all the things they never had. They no longer felt the pang of hunger or the bite of cold.

Most of all, they had each other. Having each other meant sharing the burden of those memories for the first time. It was like peeling an onion, and Emma didn’t mean that metaphor in the usual sense. She meant the layers stung like hell, so they could only handle tiny bits at a time. It was okay, though, Killian told her. They had a lifetime together.

Taking the pain a tiny piece at a time was why the phone call came as such a shock for both of them. It wasn’t that Emma forgot about Hank, it’s just she’d never heard anyone speak of him aloud in almost thirty years.

Killian watched her face go pale, saw her arm go limp even though he could still hear a tiny voice coming through the speaker of her phone.

“Emma? Is everything okay?”

She dropped the phone without ending the call, and it hit one of the throw pillows and slid to the edge of the couch. Without saying a word, she headed upstairs, and Killian snatched the phone up and pressed it to his ear. The person on the other end was saying “hello? Ms. Swan, are you there?”

“This is Mr. - this is her husband,” Killian said. Though Storybrooke was no longer isolated from the outside world, Killian still essentially didn’t exist outside of its borders. Their marriage, though real in every way that mattered, wasn’t legally official outside of their little hamlet of fairy tale characters.

“Oh,” the woman on the line said, “well, could you just let her know that visiting hours end at nine pm?”

Killian’s brow furrowed. “Visiting hours?”

“Yes, if she’d like to come visit Hank Gregory. Her foster father?”

Killian sank to the edge of the couch. “Could you fill me in, please? My wife was a little - overwhelmed by your call.”

“Well, Mr. Gregory was admitted to Maine Medical Center here in Portland about two days ago with complications from both liver disease and diabetes. We’ve done all we can for him, but he’s been admitted into the ICU.” The woman took a deep breath, as if gathering her strength to get the next words out.

“I told your wife this already, but he doesn’t have a lot of time. We asked if he had any next of kin he’d like us to contact, and your wife’s name and number was all he gave us. He said she was his foster daughter?”

Killian rubbed the curve of his hook against his chin. No wonder the nurse phrased it as a question - this call likely wasn’t going the way she had envisioned. Across the room, Henry had discarded his video game controller and was watching Killian with a question furrowing his brow. Killian wished he weren’t so worried himself because it’s one thing for the man to have Emma’s name. It was quite another for him to have her cell phone number.

“Let me jot down those visitation hours,” he finally told the nurse, motioning to Henry to get a pad of paper and a pen. The lad dashed to the kitchen and fished them out of the junk drawer. Killian repeated the information from the nurse as Henry scribbled it down. After ending the call, Henry regarded him intensely.

“What was that all about? Mom seemed really upset.”

Killian sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not one hundred percent sure yet, Henry.”

***************************************************************

“Are you’re absolutely positive that you want to do this, love?”

Emma was clutching the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip, but she nodded at Killian anyway. They were twenty minutes outside of Storybrooke, and she’d been completely silent the entire time.

“I need answers. The man treated me like shit for two years, and now, 24 years later, he calls out of the blue?”

Killian really wasn’t sure what to say, so he merely rubbed Emma’s arm with the curve of his hook. She smiled at the gesture, and her body relaxed. One of her hands released the steering wheel, and she reached over to grasp his. He lifted it to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles.

“The bastard isn’t going to die without me getting a thing or two off my chest, either,” she added with a bitter chuckle.

There was a time a few years ago that the anger radiating from her and the harshness of her words would have him worried. His mind would have gone immediately to his own bitterness towards his father and the darkness that kind of path leads to. But now he knew better. Emma had faced the darkness and risen above it. He also knew she had to face her demons on her own terms.

“I’m right beside you, Swan, you know that.”

Her face relaxed and she turned her palm to lace their fingers together. She lifted their hands and pressed her lips to the back of his before letting go so she could put two hands back on the wheel. She bore right and soon the Bug was heading down 295 to Portland.

**********************************************************

Maine Medical Center was enormous, comprised of several different buildings. To make matters worse, parts of it were being renovated and construction zones were everywhere. They finally found the correct building, finally found a parking deck, and then walked what felt like a million miles to the ICU. Killian had never been anywhere but Storybrooke General, but this massive place had the same sterile smell and chilly air. He noticed Emma shivering and put his arm around her as they walked. She leaned into him, clasping his prosthetic hand in hers, his hook not exactly appropriate for the setting.

“Thank you for coming here with me,” she whispered.

“It’s what a husband does,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her temple.

His quip at least elicited a tiny chuckle from her. They approached the nurses station for the ICU, and Emma told them who she was and that she was here to see Hank Gregory. A smiling woman in her sixties whose spectacles reminded him of Granny Lucas led them to the correct room, which looked more to Killian like a glass prison. She eased the door open and called to the patient in the bed with a voice only slightly above a whisper.

“Mr. Gregory, you have visitors.”

The man’s eyes blinked open, and he turned his head towards the open door. He was covered in wires and tubes, and things blinked and beeped all around him. The nurse pressed a gentle hand to Emma’s arm.

“I’ll let you visit.”

Emma simply nodded, and Killian could tell she would rather flee. But she let out a long, slow breath and then took a step closer towards the man in the bed. His skin was pale and looked as thin as paper, littered in bruises. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks sallow, and there was a yellowish pallor to his face. He was mostly bald with only a few wisps of dingy gray hair. Killian glanced at Emma. She dropped her arms to her sides, and her hands were balled into tight fists.

“Emma,” the man said on a struggled breath, “you came.”

“How the hell did you find me?” she bit back.

The man’s eyes blinked, moist with tears. He looked sad, resigned, but not angry or defensive. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you over the years. Trying to, anyway. You can be a hard girl to find.”

“Yeah, I kinda pride myself on it.”

He ignored her jab, and smiled at Killian. “And who is your young man here?”

“I’m not ten anymore, Hank. This isn’t my young man, he’s my husband.”

“Killian Jones.” Killian gave the man a slight nod, unsure if he should attempt to shake his hand or not. He glanced nervously at Emma, wondering if she was offended by his polite greeting, but her gaze hadn’t left the man in the hospital bed.

“Nice to meet you, son.”

“He’s not your anything.” Emma propped her hands on her hips. “How. Did. You. Find me?”

He sighed, his head sinking even farther into his pillow. “I saw you in the papers a few years back. Emma Swan Always Gets Her Man, that was the headline. I’ve done some, well . . . work with computers, so I -”

“You obtained my personal information illegally, right? Did you know I’m a sheriff now?”

Hank tilted his head. “No, actually, I didn’t. Funny thing, I was following your career in New York, even found out about your son -”

“You stay the hell away from Henry!”

Hank ignored her “-but then the two of you just . . . disappeared. I held onto your number, though. When I gave it to the nurse, I wasn’t sure if it would even work. I was even less sure that you would come.”

Emma’s chin was tilted, and Killian knew what that meant. “Why me?”

“You’re all I’ve got left, Emma. You were my daughter, for God’s sake!”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your daughter. I never was.”

“Maybe not by blood, but I loved you like my own -”

“You don’t know what love even is!” Emma was shouting now, and Killian glanced nervously at the door. He wasn’t going to stop her, though. Obviously, whatever was pouring out of her had been bottled up for years. Hank was obviously not long for this world, and he knew better than anyone that his wife needed to say everything that had been left unsaid.

Hank was crying now, tears catching in the wrinkles that marred his face. “I didn’t treat you right, I know that, but I did love you, Emma. I did.”

Emma shook her head. “Really? You loved me so much you spent all of the money on liquor while I starved? Loved me so much you spent every waking moment in that damn recliner with the tv on? Do you know how many times I had to clean you up after you’d puked all over yourself? How many times I had to haul trash bags full of empty bottles out to the curb?”

“I know, I know!” Hank was sobbing now, his voice breaking as he struggled to speak. “When Denine and I took you in, we were gonna do it together. We were so excited to give you a home. But then she died, and I . . . she was my life, Emma. I was grieving so badly that I lost myself in the drinking, and -”

“I was grieving too!” Emma shouted. “And I was only ten!”

An awkward silence fell then, the sounds of the hospital machines louder within it. Hank’s gaze trailed to the ceiling, and his hands picked nervously at the thin hospital blanket. He let out a shaky sigh before finally speaking again.

“I’m dying, Emma. My liver’s useless, my kidneys are failing.” Groaning, he struggled to sit up in the bed, his right hand shaking violently as he reached for the blanket across his lap. When he yanked it aside, Killian’s eyes widened in surprise to see legs that ended in blunted stumps where feet should have been. Emma, however, didn’t react at all.

“Look at me,” Hank choked out. “I hated myself so much, I literally killed myself. Didn’t give a shit about my diabetes, so I lost my feet.”

“Serves you right,” Emma replied coldly.

“You’re right, it does,” Hank agreed, awkwardly covering himself back up and collapsing against his pillows. “Denine would be devastated if she saw me now.”

“She was good to me,” Emma whispered, hugging her arms around herself.

Hank nodded, tears gathering in his eyes once again. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was before it’s too late. I hoped that maybe we could -”

“Fine,” Emma interrupted him, “you got to apologize, but if you think that means I’ll forgive you, then I guess you’re gonna die disappointed.”

Emma completely ignored the broken man as he sobbed in the hospital bed, turning instead for the door and striding from the room. Killian followed her, but he couldn’t help glancing back at Hank Gregory with sympathy.

****************************************************************

Emma felt physically drained, yet a buzz of righteous anger still tingled along her skin. Killian, however, had fallen into a melancholy she couldn’t understand. They had decided to get lunch in the hospital cafeteria rather than drive around trying to find a place to eat. They had found a spot to sit next to a window looking out at a courtyard, and Killian seemed far more interested in watching the people walking past than the food in front of him.

“Hey,” Emma said softly, reaching out to grasp his hand, “what’s wrong?”

He gave her that smile that never fooled her because it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing, love, really.”

As if to try and prove it to her, he picked up his fork and speared a piece of broccoli. Not very convincing, however, when it never reached his mouth. Emma sighed and put down her grilled cheese.

“Yeah right, nothing.” She regarded his brooding nervously, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. “Do you think I’m an awful person? To yell at a dying man like that?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. As difficult as it was, it had to be said.”

If anything, Killian’s words only made him look more depressed. Emma frowned. “But you think I should go back and forgive him?”

Killian shrugged. “I can’t tell you what to do in a situation like this. I confess, I wish you would, but . . . “

“But what?”

He finally met her eyes, dropping the fork with the uneaten broccoli. “Can’t you see it, Swan?”

Her brow furrowed. “See what?”

“Is there really that much difference between me and Hank Gregory?”

Emma couldn’t help it, a short laugh escaped her lips. “You can’t be serious.”

“A one-handed pirate with a drinking problem,” he grumbled.

“What?”

Killian rubbed his forehead, unable to look at her. “It’s what Pan said in Neverland when I told him you were finally seeing me for who I really am.”

Emma rolled her eyes, though she knew Killian was serious. “And you’re going to believe that psychopath?”

“Well, he wasn’t wrong. And here you are, refusing to forgive . . . an alcoholic with no feet.”

Emma’s eyes widened as his words sank in, then her face softened and tears moistened her eyes. “Oh babe,” she told him softly, grasping his hand again and rubbing his knuckles with her thumb, “you’re nothing like him. I’ve seen you drink too much, sure, but you’re not an alcoholic. You’ve never neglected me or Henry or Hope. You’ve done nothing but put us first.” She let out a long, slow breath, relieved when she saw a tiny glimmer spark in her husband’s eyes. “Hank ignored me, neglected me, yelled at me and called me names for two long, excruciating years.”

“Oh Swan,” he told her in a choked voice, “I’m not sure I was much better after losing Milah.”

“No, stop it,” she said firmly, grasping his prosthetic and his hand firmly in both of hers. “That may be true, but I know you, better than anyone. I have no doubt in my mind that if a child needed you, you would have been there. As a matter of fact, you did just that, for Neal - I mean Bae.”

“And then I mucked it all up like I always -”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Jones.”

He gave a small laugh, and ducked his head. Since she didn’t seem to be getting through to him, she got up, plopped right down in his lap and cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

“Forget the past, remember? Isn’t that what we said on our wedding day?”

“Yes, but -”

“No buts. Hank Gregory was never a father to me. He sucked, okay? You, however, are the best father I could ever dream of for Henry and Hope.” She punctuated her words with a searing kiss, not giving a damn that they were in the middle of crowded, bustling Maine Medical Center.

****************************************************

Emma rubbed her palms on her jeans nervously as she watched the dying man through the glass of his room in the ICU. Killian put his arm around her and pulled her close.

“You sure about this?” he asked.

Emma nodded. “Yes. You were right, I did need to say those harsh words.” She turned to him and shrugged. “But they weren’t the only words. I guess I have too much of my parents in me.”

He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be waiting right here for you.”

With a steadying breath, she stepped away from her husband and opened the door. She had thought Hank was sleeping, but she had been wrong. He turned towards the door and smiled when he saw her.

“I didn’t think I would see you again.”

“Yeah, well . . . “ Emma shrugged as she approached his bed. She stepped to the foot of it and grasped the edge with both hands. “I was talking to my husband, and he reminded me that people can change.”

Hank’s eyes brightened with hopefulness. “I have changed, Emma, and I was hoping maybe I could get to know my daughter again.”

Emma lifted her hand. “Please don’t call me that, Hank. I found my real parents, and they’re wonderful people. My dad and I especially are close. He and I -” she chuckled, surprised when tears rose up in her eyes thinking of David. “Well, we’re a lot alike. My mom definitely says so about a hundred times a day.”

Tears rolled freely down Hank’s cheeks. “Oh, Emma, I’m so happy to hear that. Knowing that, I really think I can leave this world in peace.”

Emma blinked, startled. “What?”

“I was such a horrible parent to you, Emma, and you were so innocent. I never forgave myself, and I tortured myself after children’s services took you away wondering what happened to you. Wondering if you ever found a family to love you the way you always deserved.”

Emma nodded, the tears flowing freely on her own face. “I have. I really have.”

“Anyone else besides Henry, your parents, and that handsome husband of yours?”

“Yes,” Emma said, pulling her cell phone out of her jacket pocket as she came around to the side of the bed, “my baby girl Hope. Here she is on the day she was born.”

Hank’s trembling hand came out to bring the screen closer. “She’s beautiful.”

“She is, isn’t she?”

An awkward silence fell as Emma pocketed her phone. She shifted her feet awkwardly, wondering if she could really spit the words out she had come here to say.

“You don’t have to forgive me,” Hank finally said.

Emma’s face softened as she held his gaze. “Yes, I do. Not for you, but for me.” She took another deep breath and reached out to grasp Hank’s hand. “Hank, I forgive you.”

The man let out a long, shuddering breath, his eyes closing as he whispered, “thank you.” He must have been saving that breath for Emma’s words because as soon as it fell from his lips, every machine in the room started beeping. Emma was shoved out of the way as doctors and nurses rushed in to attend to the dying man. She found herself back in Killian’s arms, weeping against his shoulder.

**********************************************************

The drive home was a bit surreal with nothing but silence their companion back to Storybrooke. Emma didn’t think the feeling was grief - she’d known that, and God, she’d never forget it. Yet she did feel emotionally spent, and wrung out of all coherent thought. Killian didn’t seem concerned by her silence, content to watch the scenery go by and hum along with the radio. Occasionally, he would take her hand in his and give her a reassuring smile.

Emma was surprised when she saw the Welcome to Storybrooke sign - it was like she had driven home on autopilot. When they parked outside of their house, her heart flipped to see her dad’s truck. David came out on the porch before they had even exited the vehicle, Hope cradled in his arms.

“Snow needed to take Neal to t-ball practice so I -” David’s words were cut off when Emma launched herself into his arms. His free arm came up to cup his daughter’s head, and he was shocked to hear her crying against him. He looked to Killian with a startled expression and was relieved when his son-in-law gave him a small smile and a tiny nod that Emma was fine. Killian gently took Hope from him, grinning as the two month old squealed in delight. His arms free, David held Emma tighter.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” he finally asked her.

Emma pulled back, a smile lighting her face despite the tears. “Yeah, I am. Better than okay. I just . . . I love you, Dad.”

David swallowed back the lump in his throat. “I love you, too.”

She holds the hand that holds her down / She will rise above.

[disappearinginq]

New Bingo Card

Crankiness is apparently a powerful motivator, but so are awesome people randomly swinging by with words of encouragement. 

Currently, the fandom is Magnum, PI, but I plan to add in some from Prodigal Son over the break.

Fic can be found on AO3: Found Family

and FFN.net: Found Family 

and below the cut: 

Rick tugged at the stiff collar of his dress blues for the umpteeth time, stretching the starched material a little further every time. The fabric no longer lined up to make an even line, and the top button was in danger of popping loose. His face was starting to itch from his five o’clock shadow, and the colonel had made it abundantly clear that he was to shave before they were picked up by their escort, but after 18 months and 11 days of no shaving, he just felt naked without at least some scruff.

Besides.

Clean shaven he looked like he was 12.

Well, used to. The rounded features he’d had almost his entire adult life that had bartenders carding him well into his thirties – a source of never ending amusement for Nuzo and TC and a shared affliction for Thomas – were gone. They’d been out of the Valley for almost four months now, but weight and muscle were slow to return.

“Why in the fuck do we have to stay in our dress uniforms for this bullshit?” he grumbled. The uniforms were never what one would call roomy but now they just felt like woolen weighted blankets slowly suffocating him. With the high collar, it felt like a really weak guy trying to strangle him all day. It didn’t allow for slouching or raising arms or even stretching, and Rick had to resist the urge to gnaw on the collar that jabbed uncomfortably at the underside of his chin. “Why do we even have to do this bullshit?”

TC heaved a long suffering sigh of someone who’d had to explain to a whiny toddler one too many times already – “because we’re a big deal. People want some good news for a change, and we’re it.”

“If people want a happy story, they can fucking watch the Hallmark Channel,” Rick growled. “This is the last of things I want to do on my To Do list.”

TC played along. He looked utterly unbothered by his uniform, the new Major insignia gleaming in the midmorning sun. “Oh yeah? What’s above it?”

“Chug a bottle of bleach, for starters,” Rick said.

The abrupt bark of laughter at his shoulder was worth the dark scowl from Nuzo and TC.

Thomas looked better than he had, but that was a pretty low bar. The same missing baby fat from Rick’s cheeks hollowed out Thomas’s entire face, making him look gaunt and worn. His hair was still too long for regs, but the admiralty let it slide, if only because Thomas wouldn’t let anyone close enough with a pair of scissors to cut it. He still wasn’t talking much, and rarely strayed any further than a few feet from any of them, but at least he was mobile. And alive.

He fidgeted with his pristine white uniform, pulling absently at the sleeves every few minutes to cover up the still healing skin graft scars.

“That’s a corker of a To Do list, brother,” TC said easily. “Anything else?”

“Well, if we’re still talking ‘Things I Would Rather Do Than a Press Tour’, then I’m going to have say  eating a nest of spiders, getting kicked in the teeth by a mule, having recreational surgery to remove a testicle,” he animatedly counted off on his fingers as he prattled off worse and worse things, ignoring Nuzo’s eye rolling and TC’s look of abject disgust while watching Thomas’s smile grow to the point it crinkled the corners of his eyes. Worth it, Rick thought. 

“Is there anything actually fun on this list of yours?” TC interrupted before Rick could come up with worse things.

“Food,” Rick said. “I plan to eat myself stupid now that we’re out of that godforsaken hospital. And I’m sorry, but German food is not my thing. I want an Americanized pizza, with something gross for toppings. I want whatever the hell that thing is,” he pointed to a six foot tall advertisement for something pink from Starbucks. “I want an all-American hot dog made from kangaroo meat and old boots.”

“That is not what hot dogs are made of,” TC sighed, making a face. “Shut up before you ruin all the things I’ve been looking forward to.”

They were sitting in the VIP lounge of LaGuardia, waiting on a ‘personal escort’ to some talk show – Rick honestly hadn’t been paying any attention when the general spoke. Fallon? Kimmel? SNL? Something that was supposed to impress him, and instead all Rick heard was ‘the first time you’ve been on American soil in over two years, and for the next six weeks, we have your entire lives mapped out for you – where you eat, where you sleep, who you talk to’ and he couldn’t shake the feeling it sounded suspiciously like they were still prisoners.

Just fewer bars and indoor plumbing.

They hadn’t been home in over two years – Rick hadn’t been state side in almost three. He’d been in the middle of back to back tours when they were captured. He almost forgot what it sounded like to hear people speaking primarily in a language he understood.

But his nerves were far from soothed just stepping onto American soil. They’d spent weeks in Germany recovering, trying to undo the damage done in a year a half, and Rick felt like it was like slapping a new coat of paint on rust – looked pretty on the outside, while everything still rotted away underneath.

They were flown first class from Bagram. Well, first from Bagram to the UAE, and then to the USA. The comfy seats didn’t mean much when he had to sit in the most uncomfortable uniform ever made for thirteen hours, with the military escort reminding them they weren’t allowed to drink in uniform.

When Rick had threatened to strip down then and there, the escort had relented, but he’d caught the exaggeratedly disappointed looks from the stewardesses. He’d smiled as they refilled his drink when out of the blue the thought struck him so hard he’d flinched, almost spilling it – would they still smile if they saw the scars?

He’d avoided any further attempts at conversation with them, just the general pleases and thank yous for service and tried not to throw up.

Nuzo laughed, interrupting the dark line of thoughts. “You idiots are gonna be the one doing the junket, not me.” He elbowed Thomas with half his usual force and tried not to let the hurt show when Thomas still noticeably flinched. “I guess married man, father of one doesn’t interest the people like three singles ready to mingle.”

“Don’t be hatin’ ‘cause we have the celebrity looks,” TC joked, fussing with his own dress blues that were still pristine.

“Yeah,” Rick piped in, slinging his arm around TC’s shoulders. “Look at these mugs. We’re gorgeous. And you somehow still have a bald head despite being stuck in a cave for 18 months and 11 days without access to a razor. Who would you want on camera?” He smiled broadly.

“It’s because Lara said no,” Thomas said quietly, before Nuzo could reply. He barely met Nuzo’s gaze, dark brown eyes looking away even before they connected. “And everyone is afraid of Lara.”

Nuzo stared for a moment. They all did. It was the first attempt at humor – actual humor, not dark, gallows jokes that made the therapists scribble madly in their notebooks to up his meds – since the Valley.

The ghost of Thomas’s former grin faltered, those same dark eyes that spoke more than the man did himself these days shifting away suddenly as he bit his lip, suddenly unsure if he’d overstepped an imaginary line.

It was more than a little crushing to see someone who once spoke so freely stop and second guess almost everything they said. Even to their friends.  

Rick saved him.

Seemed like he was doing that a lot lately. But it gave him a purpose – a mission. And isn’t that what the counselor kept saying returning servicemen struggled with? A lack of purpose in the absence of mission?

Guess they were saving each other still.

“Thomas has a point, Nuz,” Rick said. “Lara is a lovely and terrifying woman. No fair getting her to spring you.”

“Are you trying to tell me that Lara, love of my life, sun in my sky, to whom the angels pale in comparison, is intimidating enough that she can bully an Admiral into letting her beloved husband out of an unwanted assignment?” Nuzo put a hand over his ribbon rack, mouth opened in feigned shock before shrugging one shoulder in agreement. “Damn right she is.”

The frightened rabbit look faded slowly from Thomas’s expression as they continued to banter back and forth, the familiar rhythm of their teasing soothing frazzled nerves better than any therapy. It worked in the cave, it worked at the airport.

TC and Nuzo were still talking, Rick occasionally butting in with an opinion that no one asked for or needed, just to keep things lively. But mostly he kept an eye on Thomas.

Thomas, whose attention waned easily these days, and more often than not, drifted back to less pleasant times. He fidgeted in place almost constantly, clenching and unclenching his hands, only following the conversation when voices were raised and even then, only to make sure it wasn’t a danger loud, before staring off into space again. The press conference they’d already had in Bagram was a nightmare – everyone wanted to talk to Thomas.

And Thomas held his own for a while. He really did. But the questions started to get a little too personal. Once he’d answered about finding something that let him help people, now that they were being early retired from their military service, the reporters took it as an invitation to ask him more invasive and personal questions that somehow also still made political statements out of it – like “Does that mean you don’t agree with the US’s involvement with Afghanistan?”, or “Do you believe that the military presence isn’t helping people?”

Rick was all ready to come to his brother’s aide, but TC beat him to the punch with a solid, rumbling: “You’re gonna ask a man who went through hell to solve a war that’s been going on since before we left Africa as a species?”

The following “get fucked” that even had flustered Thomas laughing because TC rarely ever swore, even in the Cave, probably had more to do with the abrupt end to the questioning, but…eh. It was worth the ass chewing from the higher ups.

 Now he was starting to fidget again, despite the familiar bantering, pulling at invisible threads on his uniform as he tried not to make the constant rolling of his shoulders obvious.

“I’m bored stiff. You wanna come take a walk around the airport?” he asked, already heading for the door to the lounge. “Get some air? Stretch these legs? I think I’m losing circulation to my feet in these things.”

“Sure,” Thomas agreed, practically jumping out of his seat at the invite. “It’s stuffy in here.”

It wasn’t, but Rick let it slide. He held the door open for his friend, sending a quick ‘okay’ sign behind his back towards Nuzo and TC, letting them know he had this one.

The airport was crowded, but not claustrophobically so.  The concourse was packed with people waiting for food and flights, the enormous floor to ceiling windows looking out onto the tarmac for people to watch incoming and outgoing flights making the crowd tolerable.

Except for the part where people stared at them as they walked around.

It had nothing to do with who they were – Rick doubted that many people really watched the news. But the military dress uniforms were eye catching. Something that he never minded in the past, but now felt like he was under a microscope. He found himself walking closer than necessary to Thomas, studying the ceiling with closer intensity than it probably warranted.

“I don’t think I can take this for another six weeks,” Thomas said, so quietly Rick almost missed it. Rick hadn’t been paying all that much attention, preoccupied with his own feelings of being under a microscope, but now that he actually looked at Thomas, he wasn’t looking so hot.

The damage done by the Taliban was a slow recovery. Damage done by raging infections and Thomas’s own recklessness was even slower. Long walks winded him still, but now Magnum was looking positively gray.

“I know…I know what we did was important,” Thomas said softly. “But…I don’t want to keep reliving it. Letting people ask us like it’s some part of a movie, or somehow entertaining. And the more I try to convince myself that these people…” he gestured absently with a flick of his hand that made him wince. “They’re the reason why it should be worth it, the more I keep thinking of that press release, and the more…the more I hate it.” The more he hated them.

Rick considered it for a long moment before replying, trying to channel his inner TC to find something that might actually mean something. “We took an oath to stand against all threats, foreign and domestic. We signed up to fight for them. Not to suffer for them. You don’t owe them more than you’ve given.”

Thomas shrugged like he didn’t believe him but was too tired to argue. The higher ups made the press tour a non-optional request. As long as they were still in, they were supposed to ‘obey the orders of those appointed over them’.

What was irritating was that Thomas used to have no problem telling the chain to get bent when needed. Or just pretending like he didn’t hear them in the first place. He even said some unpleasant things to the Taliban holding them prisoners, but now…now he just didn’t seem to have it in him to complain.

Like someone had snuffed that spark.

“But first things first – I’m getting out of this monkey suit.” He veered abruptly into the clothing store, boasting hoodies with ‘I heart NYC’ in every color imaginable and Yankees and Mets gear stacked to the ceiling. He almost gagged when he saw the outrageous pricing, but hey – he had back pay for a year and a half of hazardous duty coming his way. He could afford it.

They were supposed to stay in uniform while traveling, according to the military.

Well, they could go fuck themselves, Rick thought darkly. If he was gonna be gawked at, it was gonna be because people thought he was an overcompensating tourist – not a Marine who just returned from hell.

“Here,” he tossed Thomas an overpriced t-shirt. “Take that. I’ve never been more appreciative of airlines catering to the idea that at least half their customers have lost all their stuff in customs, but I am getting out of this uniform, and so are you.”

Thomas stared blankly at the plain black shirt in his hands. Rick watched as he carefully traced scarred fingertips over the soft fabric, touching at the collar before fingering the sleeves that would only come to just past his upper arm.

“It’s softer than dress whites,” he conceded. He almost headed for the changing room before he stopped, glancing back the racks.  “I need something with sleeves,” he pointed out hesitantly.

Rick nodded his chin towards the display of hoodies. “Take your pick. Personally, I dig the pink one, so if you’re not down for looking like twinsies, pick a different color.”

Thomas laughed at that. Rick had never been ‘conservative’ when it came to civilian clothes – mostly because it annoyed everyone else, but as more than one woman had told him – ladies liked a daring man with more color in their wardrobe than that of Johnny Cash.

Their obscenely expensive clothing bought and tags ripped off, they headed back towards the lounge where TC and Nuzo were probably beginning to wonder where exactly they wandered off to.

Rick’s stepfather once told him ‘clothes make the man’, and for the most part, Rick flatly ignored him. But the change in Thomas was…tangible.

Dressed in jeans which cost more than a car rental, shoes better served for a teenager on a skateboard but were the only ones soft enough to accommodate sensitive scar tissue, and a hoodie two times too big for him, Thomas actually looked…relaxed.

No one was staring at him. No one even batted an eye as they walked past them – not even the ones who’d openly stared at the dress uniforms not twenty minutes earlier.

It was like they were invisible.

For the first time in a year and a half, no one paid any attention at all to them. Not to demand questions of them, not to decide who they were going to take away to the Pit, not to mock from behind bars, not to question whether they’d followed the doctor’s advice or if they’d eaten anything that day.

Nobody cared.

And.

It.

Was.

Marvelous.

“Like a magic cloak,” Thomas half whispered in awe. He still tugged at the long sleeves of the sweatshirt, but they were long enough he could actually pull the ends over his hands, hiding the scars completely.

It also made him look like he was fifteen.

But there was a kindling light in those dark, expressive eyes, and that was all that Rick cared about.

“Told you,” he teased gently, opening the door back to the lounge.

There was an indignant squawk of abject betrayal when TC saw them in civilian clothes.

“Really, guys?” TC gaped, a hand of mock betrayal going to his chest. “You gonna do a brother like that?”

Rick huffed. “Like we would leave you hanging.” He tossed a bag of clothes at the pilot, who caught them deftly in one hand before peering suspiciously inside. “No, I didn’t get you pink. We decided yellow was more your color anyway.”

“What in the hell is this?” TC demanded, yanking out a bumblebee yellow button up. “TM, is this your doing?”

Thomas shrugged innocently. “There’s a limited selection in the big and tall in an airport.”

TC scowled without anger. “Sure.”

“Nah, the kid’s right – you had your pick of that or lime green. I don’t know why they think a 6’2”, 240 pound man needs to be more noticeable, but it’s what you get,” Rick defended, even as Thomas shot another scowl his way at the mention of age.

“Nothing for me?” Nuzo asked. “I see how it is.”

“Your wife and kid are coming to pick you up in like an hour – don’t pretend like Lara and Jake aren’t going to have a change of clothes,” TC pointed out. “Watch the youngin’s – I’m getting out of this clown suit.”

Before Nuzo could protest, TC was out the door with a speed that belied his size.

Nuzo shook his head, then quickly darted his gaze back to Thomas who was looking out the floor to ceiling window at the parking lots, not paying them any attention. He met Rick’s gaze, cocking his head to one side, questioning.

How’s our boy?

Rick held a hand out and teetered it back and forth. Not great. But not terrible.

“Any word on our hurry up and wait status?” he asked aloud. Their flight had been bumped back in Dubai – they arrived two and a half hours ahead of schedule, and Lara and Jake had to drive up from Virginia Beach to pick Nuzo up. The others were left waiting – as per usually with the military – until someone filed paperwork to get them a ride. Their escort was supposedly off conversing with the USO representatives, but that was over an hour ago, and Rick not so secretly hoped they’d been forgotten.

“No news yet,” Nuzo answered, glancing at his phone.

Having phones again was just weird now. How fucking handy would it have been to just reach into a back pocket and call for help?

TC practically kicked in the door when he returned, grinning like an idiot, holding his arms above his head like the statue of Adonis. “I can move my arms again,” he crowed. He rolled his massive shoulders, relishing the freedom of movement out of the restrictive uniform. He pulled at the hem of the large shirt. “You know what, I ain’t even mad about the color. I look fantastic. I’m getting more of these when I get…”

The word they all dreaded died in his throat.

Home.

The only one who even had one was Nuzo, and even that came with its own perils. Trying to readjust after deployment was hard enough on married couples. Readjusting after…everything…seemed like an unwinnable purgatorial task.

“I guess this is just a temporary patch job, huh.” TC faltered. He glanced down at the bag that now held his carefully folded uniform. “We’re going to have to get changed again as soon as the guards – escorts – come back.”

Thomas flinched at the word guards, his shoulders coming up quick and sharp as he ducked his head, automatically making himself smaller than he already was. Somehow, it was made worse by the oversize sweatshirt – perhaps because it made him look even younger than he already did.

Nuzo had mentioned going to Hawaii back in Bagram, when Thomas quietly admitted he wasn’t ready to go home. But none of them had anything set up in Hawaii, either. Not for another six weeks, at least. The older man had reached out to Robin Masters, hoping the former journalist would be willing to help out the man who’s life made him a millionaire that owned half the island, but he’d only reached a very polite but very firm assistant who informed him that Mr. Masters was very busy on world tour, but she would pass along the message but couldn’t guarantee when he would be able to return the call.

“First of all, if they want me back in uniform, they’re going to have to wrestle me back into it,” Rick declared, crossing his arms over the Yankees emblem on his shirt. “And I plan to go out like a honey badger on meth.”

TC raised a questioning eyebrow at the metaphor but shrugged one shoulder in agreement. “Yeah. I can see that.”

“What if…”

All three heads turned to Thomas.

The younger man had one palm up against the window, fingers splayed out on the cold glass as it fogged around his hand. But he wasn’t looking up. He was looking down at the parking lot. At the rental car return lot.

They waited patiently.

“What if…we ran away?” Thomas asked, voice hesitant and barely above a whisper. “What if we didn’t wait around for them to decide for us? What if…what if we just left. We could just...go. Anywhere. Anywhere we wanted to.”

He shot a glance over his shoulder back at the group that was so cautiously hopeful, the first real spark back in his eyes since last September – and Rick realized he would’ve agreed to anything that kept that look on his friend’s face.

“I’m down,” he said immediately, before glancing back at TC. “Could use a pilot though.”

“Hell, yeah.” TC tossed his bag to Nuzo who caught it one handed. “Cover for us?”

Nuzo smirked. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll get Lara to do it.”

*

Fortunately, LaGuardia had an overabundance of rentals available, and while Rick pointed out the flashy sports cars in the lineup, TC argued against being forced to sit in the back seat with his knees up his nose at any point of the trip.

“Then don’t sit in the back!” Rick protested, pointing out the sport car again.

“I am supposed to believe that you and Thomas aren’t even once going to want to both be up front at the same time?” TC shot back and pointed to the SUV that looked like it would be better suited for a drive by or government agencies.

 “What about this one?” Thomas asked.

The car had no business being there. It was almost fifty years old and completely out of place amongst the minivans and crossovers, but there it was – a 1968 Chevelle convertible, in mint condition.

“I think someone just parked it in the wrong spot, buddy,” Rick said. “I don’t think it’s a rental.”

Thomas leaned over the passenger side door, fishing into the glove box. “No, look,” he said, holding up a piece of paper. “It is a rental. It’s from Auto Classics Enterprise, apparently.”

“It gets like six miles to the gallon,” TC pointed out. “We’ll need to refill twice before we even get out of the city.”

Rick glanced up at him. “You got somewhere you need to be?”

“Just stating facts, bro. Though…” he considered the front seat and back. “It is pretty roomy.”

“It’s got class,” Rick agreed. “And leg room. Not to mention zero to sixty in six point four seconds.”

“We’re in downtown Queens, Orville. We’ll be lucky to see anything about 13 miles an hour until we get out of the city.”

“Why you always gotta be a negative Nancy, Theodore?” Rick asked, squinting up at the larger man before hissing: “Who hurt you?”

“I’m a realist,” TC corrected. “And one of us has to have at least one foot on the ground while you got your head up in the clouds.”

“There’s no roof,” Thomas interrupted, making both men stop mid argument. He looked sheepish, like he hadn’t meant to say anything aloud, but couldn’t take it back. “I’m just…sick of walls, you know? Of not being able to see out. We can get a different one, I just…” he shrugged, offering a faint echo of his normal Cheshire grin. “Something without a roof?”

Rick and TC glanced at each other. It’d been hard to deny Thomas anything even before they were captured – he was just that kind of guy. He called in a million favors, but he racked them and stacked them the same way some people stacked bodies. Everyone always owed Thomas because Thomas was always, always giving something. Hard to deny became impossible – especially since lately, he asked very little. 

Rick sighed, held one hand out, palm flat and his other hand clenched in a fist on top. “On the count of three?”

“Nah,” TC grinned, giving Rick an affectionate shove. “You’re enlisted. I know your ass is broke, back pay or not. I got this.”

“That stings.”

“Not as much as your empty wallet.”

*

Poor investment or not, the car was what they needed. All of them, not just Thomas.

Rick was always a bit of a car fanatic – he liked anything that’s entire existence could be summed up with a robust vrooooom. And he could find one anywhere – no one was entirely sure how or where he’d drummed up a 1935 Rolls Royce in the middle of the Helmand province and most were afraid to ask.

TC appreciated anything with a solid engine and good mechanics under the hood that could accommodate his large frame.

Even the stop and go traffic of downtown New York couldn’t do anything to deter the animated conversation from the front seat.

“Isn’t this the car from Dukes of Hazard?” TC teased, easing the classic further out of the city while Rick had a minor coronary over it most certainly was not, how could you spin such lies?

He hadn’t been to NYC in decades, and he’d honestly forgotten how quickly the city disappeared once they were across the bridge. It didn’t exactly up and vanish in the blink of an eye, but as they crossed from New York into Jersey, the sky scrapers and towering apartment complexes with convenience stores and neon lights gave way to suburbia, the hill houses of the Palisades Parkway offering glimpses of the Hudson between the billion dollar homes as they cruised along to nowhere in particular. The million dollar homes became farm houses and ranches, vast expanses of green instead of concrete jungle and the rumble of steady traffic faded away to the occasional semi rig or farm truck. The roar of the wind dulled as they dropped from 60 to 30, winding their way deeper into the state forests of upstate Jersey and lower New York.

It was hard to believe that less than an hour from one of the largest cities in the US was rolling farm lands.

Shit, there were even cows.

Rick scrolled continuously through the radio channels, changing the station as soon as an ad came on or he heard someone talking instead of music. “You know, you would think in a year and some change, someone would’ve come along with more talent than Justin Bieber.”

“Talent isn’t what makes that kid famous,” TC argued. “Pop music hasn’t been about the music since the 70’s.”

Rick grumbled under his breath as he continued to tweak the dial back and forth before finally stopping on “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”, cranking the volume several decibels.

TC shot him an incredulous look. “This is what you stop on? This is what says bro trip to you?”

Rick smirked, putting both hands up in ‘white dude shuffle’ pose, the closest thing he could get to dancing while in the front seat of a car. “When men are confident enough to write songs about their friendships, then I’ll put those on – but until then, Cyndi has us covered.”

“You gonna sit there and deny, to my face, Queen’s ‘You’re My Best Friend’, or Bill Withers’s classic ‘Somebody to Lean On’?” TC demanded. “What about ‘You Got a Friend In Me’?”

“The theme song to Toy Story?! How is that better?”

“How is it not better than an 80’s women power ballad? TM, back me up here!”

When Thomas didn’t respond, TC risked a glance in the rearview as Rick whipped around as if he expected Thomas to have vanished from the backseat while they were driving.

But he was still there, sitting in the middle of the bench seat. Head tilted back against the seat with his eyes closed behind his sunglasses, arms above his head as he played with the wind currents like his hands were paper planes, lost in his own little world.

The dark shadows under his eyes from months of sleepless nights were lost in the bold noon day sun, and his clean shaven face looked years younger without the stubble and lines from worry and illness.

A smile as wide as the sky above them plastered across his face.

For the first time in forever, Thomas looked…well, like Thomas.

“Play whatever you want, guys," Thomas said without looking up. His too-large sleeves pooled around his elbows, and he didn’t seem to care, despite the still healing scars plainly visible. “The sun is warm. The grass is green. Today is a good day.”

[siriuslycollins-blog]

Parenting 101 For Rockstar Dads

CH. 3- The One Where Everything Is Not Okay Pt 1

Warnings: medical malpractice, child birth, loss of blood, and death

Nessa’s pregnancy wore on throughout the fall and into the winter and spring. Jared and Nessa were having a girl and they had settled on the name Kaela, Kaela Dominique Leto; a lot had changed from the time of the pregnancy announcement such as Jared and Nessa turning the second bedroom of their apartment they used for storage into a nursery, Jared’s older brother Shannon crashing on their couch and Nessa being officially on maternity leave from school and work. She hated it, and with Jared and Shannon at work, she was absolutely bored. With summer in full swing, it was way too hot to do anything, and Nessa had very little energy. Her days consisted (sometimes) making breakfast for herself, Jared and Shannon, watching soap operas as she painted or knitted, fetching the mail, and concluding the day with a treat from the ice cream truck.

Jackie would come by after work or practice to keep her company until the guys came home. One Monday evening, she had stopped by after dance practice while Jared and Shannon were out at the laundromat. “Oh Nessa, I swear on everything I love, I’ll beat the fuck out of Lisa Russell! She gettin’ on my last damn nerve,” Jackie vented. When Nessa announced her pregnancy to the SUSLA dance team, her backup, Lisa had taken her place. It should’ve been a surprise that Lisa had even made the team in the first place, seeing as she couldn’t dance for shit, but she had rich parents, so it wasn’t really.

“The other girls are threatening to quit the team until you come back.” Nessa listened as her best friend cursed Lisa to the high heaven, never once losing steam until Shannon walked in carrying his laundry basket. The two of them were definitely checking each other out, until Jared bumped into him. “Dude, you gotta move. These mosquitos are eating me alive.” Ever since Shannon moved in, Jackie always hung around longer than necessary, and they were getting especially close.

Nessa liked the idea of Kaela’s godmother and uncle growing closer, but Jackie has a boyfriend who is absolutely wonderful, and for that reason, she only hoped that they were only getting to know each other because of the baby. Shannon plopped down in between them and threw an arm around Jackie’s side of the couch. “That’s cool, it’s not like I’m carrying your niece or anything.” They completely ignored her as they launched into their conversation; no matter how many times Jared and Nessa tried to include themselves in the conversation, Shannon and Jackie always managed to drift back to their own world. Jackie ended up staying for dinner, and the only time she and Shannon stopped talking was when either of them took a bite of their pizza.

“So Jackie, how’s Will doin’?” Nessa asked; she briefly wondered if her friend forgot that she even had a boyfriend. “Oh! Uh... he’s okay. Just really busy with summer practices so I haven’t been seeing him much lately.” Nessa saw the disappointed look on Shannon’s face but he still asked, “who’s Will?” “Just a guy she’s been seeing for a while.” He didn’t say anything after that, and the rest of dinner was quiet and a bit awkward. 

Jackie let at almost eight o’clock, saying she had to get up early, which was a lie, and even after she left Shannon was still quiet. “Shan, are you okay?” Jared asked his brother carefully. “What? Yeah, I’ll be fine, I’m just tired. I just want to go to bed. Had a long day.” Nessa and Jared went in the back to their bedroom and got ready for bed. “See Jared! I told you he has a thing for her! And she definitely likes him too!”

“Nessa baby, we’ve been through this. Shan and Jackie are going to be Kaela’s godparents. Of course they’re getting close.” Nessa only rolled her eyes as she put her hair up and put on her bonnet. “You saw how upset he was when I brought up Will.” She wasn’t even sure if Jackie even liked Will the way he liked her as she always seemed annoyed by him. “Let’s just go to sleep. You have your last doctor’s appointment before Kaela comes, first thing in the morning.”

Nessa still couldn’t believe that she was going to be a mom, that she was going to bring a child into the world with the love of her life; absolutely mind boggling. Everything was ready for her, the crib assembled and filled with stuffed animals and other things she might need, and a closet filled with pink outfits. She went into labor on July 13th, at 5:30 am which threw Jared and Shannon into a frenzy. They were both running around like chickens with their heads cut off as they made last minute plans; Shannon grabbing the hospital bag and putting in more things that might be needed and starting the car while Jared called everyone he knew. Turns out that Kaela was a very impatient baby, and by the time they made it to the hospital, Nessa was just about ready to push.

Finally, at 7:30 a.m. Kaela Dominique Leto made her grand entrance, weighing in at four pounds even. She had brown skin, a head of dark curls and the biggest brown eyes Jared had ever seen, and for the second time in his life, he fell in love. The placenta was delivered soon after, and that’s when everything went to hell. Nessa’s regular doctor was out of town due to a family emergency, so her replacement was a balding white man in fifties who brushed off Nessa’s concerns about bleeding after delivering the placenta. “Don’t worry Miss Arceneaux, the bleeding will stop soon.” The doctor had the nurses put some gauze to stop the blood flow but Nessa was losing her color and energy, fast. Jared was getting pissed; clearly there was something wrong with his girlfriend. Why wasn’t the doctor taking this seriously?

“Dr. Archibald, there is something wrong with her! Do something!” By this time Constance and Jackie had made it to the room, only to see Shannon holding Jared back as he was yelling at the doctor with Nessa running a finger over Kaela’s soft cheek; neither women had ever seen Nessa look like this. Of course it was normal to not look your best after giving birth, but it looked like someone had dimmed the lights from within. Nessa gave them a weak smile and they slowly walked over to her. Shannon had escorted Jared and Dr. Archibald into the hall, closing the door so the women wouldn’t have to hear it.

“Nessa, she’s absolutely beautiful,” Constance whispered. She couldn’t believe that she was a grandmother, but here she was, holding her new granddaughter Kaela. Surely this had to be a dream; she and Jackie took turns holding the baby, and it was a while before Shannon and Jared came back. They had plastic bags of food and they sat them down on the rolling table. “Nessa baby, you need to eat something, get your strength back up,” Jared told her.

Eating seemed to do something good for her, and her blood pressure seemed to return to normal after drinking a few ounces of orange juice. Nessa’s family came later in the day to fawn over the baby while Jared went to see about a birth certificate; when he came back, his eyes were red, he looked tired and a piece of paper in his hand. Jared looked over and saw his daughter in one of those makeshift cribs, sleeping peacefully. “Jay, why are you crying? Everything is fine. I’m okay,” Nessa assured him. He wiped the remaining tears away with the back of his hand and began kissing her face. 

“I thought I almost lost you Nessa. It was horrible.” Jared was shaken to his core, and the thought of losing the love of his life scared the shit out of him; he wanted to live out the rest of his life with her. Which reminded him... he still had the ring in his pocket, a ring he’s had for months. Of course the two had never talked about marriage, Jared had been too chicken to bring it up, but now that their daughter was here, now was a perfect time. “You’re not gonna lose me Jay.”

Jared felt like crying again, but his eyes were sore and he didn’t know if he could produce more tears; he felt like he’d done enough crying to last him twenty years. “Nessa, it was bad, and that doctor, I wanted to fucking punch him.” He could feel his throat close up again, and he focused on Shannon holding Kaela, with Jackie begging for a turn again. “It’s my turn Shannon. You’ve had her for ten minutes already.” Constance, Jared and Nessa had to step in to get the two to stop bickering.

“Come on you two, knock it off! She’s only three hours old and these are not the first sounds she should be hearing!” Constance’s tone was enough to make Shannon be quiet after Jackie called him a name. “Shan, Jackie’s right, you’ve had your turn. Give the baby to her.” He settled his niece in Jackie’s arms who had the biggest smile on her face. A few hours later, everyone had to go back to work, except for Jared who had some time off, so now he and Nessa finally had time to themselves to admire their daughter alone. 

The new parents couldn’t believe that their baby was real, they were actually looking at her, and yet it still felt like they could wake up at any moment. Kaela was, without a doubt the most perfect baby in the world; as Jared watched over his sleeping daughter, he felt a flash of anger. Here he is, holding this miracle he helped create, the thought of leaving her behind too painful to even fathom, and yet Tony Bryant had no problem leaving his two boys behind. He looked over at Nessa, who was staring at him holding Kaela. She looked tired, tired but happy, and Jared knew that now was the perfect time to ask her to spend the res of her life with him.

“Nessa, I love you so much, I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I won’t question it.” He sat Kaela back down in her cradle thing so he could get the ring from his pocket, and when Nessa realized what he was doing, she gasped. “Jared, are you doing what I think you’re doing?” Jared didn’t answer her, instead getting down on one knee at the side of her bed. “Vanessa Dominique Arceneaux, will you marry me?” 

Nessa had a smile on her face, the kind of smile that reached the eyes. “Of course I’ll marry you! I love you so much!” Jared slipped the ring on her finger, and they kissed as Kaela made some noises in her cradle. “Yes, pretty girl, your momma and daddy are getting married,” Jared cooed at the newborn. Jared didn’t expect that their celebration would abruptly end.

Nessa died two days later in her sleep sometime in the early morning. Jared was awoken by the heart monitor flatlining, thinking it was his alarm clock back home before he remembered where he was. It was dark in the room, the curtains drawn and the only light in the room was the monitor and the little sliver of golden light under the door coming from hall. Jared leaped from the couch and into the hallway. “Nurse, nurse! I need a nurse!” The monitor had to be wrong, she was only sleeping...

Doctors and nurses began to rush into the room and Jared was quickly jostled about as they tried to get to her; it took two security guards and a male nurse to calm him down, to assure him that they were doing everything they could to revive her. He was dragged into the waiting area kicking and screaming and crying. He tried to take his mind off what was happening by pacing the floor, listening to the early morning news, but none of that was helping. It was another fifteen minutes before a nurse came into the waiting area to tell him the news, but she didn’t need to, he could see it on her face.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Leto. We tried everything we could. There was one time where we tried the paddles and it worked, but only for a second.” Jared could feel the hot tears streaming down his face and he dropped back into a chair, bending over and grabbing his head, then rocking back and forth. He knew that he should go back in and say goodbye to Nessa but he couldn’t, it would be too real, but his feet moved on their own accord. There she was, his new fiancée lying on her back, eyes closed as if she was sleeping peacefully. Jared grabbed the hand he put the ring on, squeezing it and he just cried.

taglist: @llfd1977 @blackreaders-assemble @itsmeauntie

[nitewrighter]

The death of Gérard lacroix

Man at first I thought I was going to write this really short and stylistic and avant-garde and then… whoops.

CW for sex and death, I guess. I wouldn’t really put this fic above a teen rating though.

——-

Angela Ziegler looked exhausted, but that was nothing new. 

“I’ve compiled my post-rescue observations with… the Blackwatch notes,” she said. Her voice tensed on ‘Blackwatch.’ She was still angry about Venice, Jack knew, still angry he and Gabe had let her go on so long not knowing Blackwatch had picked Moira up right where Overwatch had dropped her. Jack glanced over at Gabe. They had agreed that they couldn’t afford to let O’Deorain’s skillset fall into the wrong hands, and Gabriel had stated that her work was invaluable for Blackwatch operations, but her presence in Blackwatch had turned the Venice Incident into that much more of a PR nightmare for Overwatch, and that much more of an internal relations nightmare when it came to Doctor Ziegler’s feelings on the whole thing. Jack broke his line of sight away from Gabe and looked through the one-way glass at the thin dark-haired woman sitting a bit nervously on an examination table. Gérard LaCroix was standing next to her, smoothing her hair, saying soft words to her in french. She was here, at least, she was alive. Jack had to admit this felt like Overwatch’s first win in a while. 

“It’s all clear,” said Mercy, “No toxins, normal nerve responses, some residual traces of sedatives in her bloodwork which line up with her experiences of time loss in Talon custody and Gabriel’s theory of gaslighting. Behavior is well within the normal parameters for her trauma. Obviously she’ll need continued psychological evaluation but for now, the healthiest thing we can do for her is give her time to recover.” 

“Still doesn’t feel right…” murmured Ana, “Obviously they were targeting Gérard through Amélie… but the way Gérard dogs them, you’d think they’d realize taking her would just make him work harder to take them down…”

“Talon doesn’t strike me as the most socially inclined bunch,” said Gabriel with a shrug, “So that’s your word, Doc? She can go?”

Mercy watched as Amelie lifted her hand and gently brought it up against the back of Gérard’s neck. He bowed his head slightly and put his forehead against hers. Her lips moved and a small smile tugged at their corners as Gérard took her other hand in his.

“Yes,” said Mercy, watching them, “With continued psychological evaluations, as I’ve said before.” She looked back at Amélie, “Nothing too strenuous, obviously,” she added.

“Good enough for me. In three days I want to debrief her again, see if there’s anything else she might remember from her time in Talon custody,” said Jack, “Contact our Liaison in Paris, see if we an’t post up one of our psych specialists in a Paris office for the time being.” 

“You’re the Strike Commander,” said Gabriel.

“I’ll sign the release forms then,” said Mercy.

Jack and Gabe walked off, and Mercy moved to go back to her labs after them, but then paused and looked at Ana who was still watching Gérard and Amélie through the glass.

“Is everything all right, Captain?” she asked. 

Ana didn’t respond for a few seconds at first then suddenly jerked to attention and shook her head, “Sorry, come again?”

“I said ‘Is everything all right?’” said Mercy. 

“Yes just… thinking,” said Ana.

“…You don’t want me to sign those release forms,” said Mercy.

Ana shook her head. “It’s not that. I can tell you if I went through the same thing… I’d want the same thing too. It just… feels off, is all.”

“How so?” said Mercy. 

“Talon has to have some idea of how Gérard operates at this point… and targeting the specific families of Overwatch agents is… unusual for them. They usually target high profile individuals, or have more generalized attacks. If they wanted to get Gérard off of their backs, they could have targeted me through Fareeha, and coerced me into taking him off the task force. But…” Ana put a hand to her forehead and shook her head, “I’m probably only projecting…” she looked at Gérard, “I can’t imagine the hell they’ve been through… we owe them some time to rest.”

“I agree, Captain,” said Mercy.

—

“Welcome home, Mrs. LaCroix,” Gérard said smiling as he opened the door to the apartment. Despite sleeping on the plane ride from Zurich, she still felt exhaustion deep in her muscles from everything. She stepped out of her shoes and her feet padded across the hardwood floor. 

“…Forgot how much of a mess I left this place in,” murmured Gérard, hanging his coat up. Nearly all the tables in the apartment were covered in papers, multiple tablets and data drives were strewn about as well, and there were maps on the walls covered in sticky notes and newspaper clippings and lines of yarn and photos of suspects. 

Amélie picked up a manila envelope with the Overwatch logo on it from a stack of papers. “Oh I see how it is,” she said with a smirk, waving the envelope in his direction, “You say you won’t bring your work home with you, but as soon as I’m gone, you turn this place into your second base of…” she trailed off as she looked at one of the photos on the maps on the wall, and saw it was a photo of herself getting out of a car, “…operations,” she said quietly. She stepped closer to one of the maps on the wall and looked at the newspaper clippings, “This is for me…” she said quietly, “You were looking for me.”

“Don’t tell Jack,” said Gérard, smirking and leaning against the table, “He’d tell me to go home and get some rest, and I would go home and then….” he gestured at another one of his map collages. “To be fair, I was doing it for very selfish reasons. It turns out it’s very hard to sleep without you around. So if I wanted to sleep, obviously I had to get you back.”

“Gérard,” Amélie walked over to him and ran her fingers through his hair at the side of his head, “You’ve been going gray, too…” she said softly, looking at his sideburns.

Gérard huffed a not-quite chuckle and then held her hand against his cheek, “I know. How tragically ironic that when we finally got you back, I’m too much of an old goat for you now.”

“Idiot,” she said with a smile before cupping her other hand against his cheek  and kissing him. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, but gingerly at the same time, terrified of hurting her, terrified of her slipping from existence. He kissed her forehead and took in the scent of her hair.

“We have a lot of sleep to catch up on, don’t we?” she said, leaning her head against his chest.

“Yes we do,” said Gérard, smoothing her hair down her back.

—-

Overwatch’s Paris offices were a lot brighter than the Zurich headquarters. Amélie could see flowers in the window box just past the glass, and saw a mother lark feeding her chirping young.

The evaluator was a bright eyed, curly haired brunette, seated across from her in an old-fashioned but not imposing desk. “Okay Amélie—Can I call you Amélie?” 

“Yes,” said Amélie.

“Great. You can call me Elsie. So I’m going to say five words to you and you can repeat them back to me in any order.”

“Five words,” said Amélie, nodding slowly, her eyes trailed back to the birds’ nest in the window box. Four baby birds. one was still chirping, one was still screeching up to its mother for more food.

“Don’t worry, I know you can do it, this is just re-establishing your recall ability. Okay. Here goes: ‘House. Flower. Red. Bird. Doll.”

“Cause.” Amélie heard a voice in her head that wasn’t Elsie’s.

“Effect.” Amélie heard her own voice in her head but could not recall when she had said the word.

Amélie’s fingers twitched slightly and she heard a high pitched ringing in her left ear. “Flower. House. Red. Doll,” her eyes trailed back to the window. The baby was still screaming and the mother lark was tilting her head at it with glassy indifference. Did the evaluator not see? Did she not hear the cries? “…Bird.” Amélie realized she hadn’t finished, “Sorry–I remembered I just… was distracted.”

“That’s fine,” said Elsie, “That’s totally fine. We can take all the time you need. Let’s do one more set, okay? Okay, five words, repeat them back to me in any order: Boat. Dog. Costume. Family. Moon.”

“Boat. Dog. Moon.” Amélie repeated watching the bird’s nest in the window box. What was the mother bird doing? Feeding the screaming chick more? Then she saw a bald pink chewed-gum shape fall over the side of the nest, fall over the side of the window box. The mother lark had pushed the screaming chick from the nest. They were on the third floor. “Costume. Family,” said Amélie, not missing a beat this time.

“There we go! Perfect!” said Elsie, smiling.

“Perfect,” she heard another voice in her head and the high-pitched ringing returned to her ear. It was loud enough to make her wince this time.

“Are you okay? It’s okay if you’re having an attack. This is a safe space,” said Elsie, leaning forward in her chair.

“My… my ear…” said Amélie, covering her left ear.

“It’s okay. Focus on the sound of my voice, and the sound of your breathing. This is normal. Tinnitus is a more common side-effect of trauma than people realize,” said Elsie.

“Mm…” Amélie gave a weak nod with her hand still over one ear. After about a minute, the high-pitched noise passed and Amélie sighed with relief and leaned back in her chair.

“Better?” said Elsie.

“Better,” said Amélie.

“So, your pre-evaluation notes said you were also getting nightmares, which, again, normal. Now, I’d be happy to prescribe you some medications to help you sleep better, however, since the source of your nightmares is an ongoing investigation from Overwatch, I’m obligated to ask if you remember anything more from your time in Talon custody. This information could help Overwatch significantly.

“I’ll do it. Please. I’ll be good. I’ll be perfect,” Amélie remembered her own voice.

“We know you’ll be,” she remembered another voice. 

Amélie opened her mouth, “No,” she said, “I’m… I’m sorry. I wish I could help more.”

“That’s fine,” said Elsie, smiling, “I think right now the best way you can help is focusing on getting better–and we’ll be there to help every step of the way. That sound like a good plan?”

Amélie nodded.

The rest of the evaluation was tedious. Questions she could not answer and an MRI scan she knew would turn up nothing. Elsie was insufferably supportive and warm through the whole thing. Amélie was happy to step out of the Paris offices of Overwatch, but then her eyes trailed down to a line of ants across the sidewalk. She scanned across the line of ants and saw them swarming over a pink shape—too large to be a wad of gum–no… it wasn’t gum. She knew what it was. She walked off.

—-

A week and a half. Another tedious psychological evaluation. Poor Gérard stretched thin between doting on her and tracking down Talon more obsessively than ever. A letter from the ballet conservatory, expressing its immense relief at her safe return and noting that she had a large window of time to rejoin them before the next theatrical season, nights made swift and dreamless by the pills Elsie gave her. The first week she felt as if she were in some sort of cocoon, sleeping, doing what she could to distance herself from what she couldn’t even remember back with Talon. The second week felt like a groggy morning, the light of her old life seeping back into it. She needed to dance again. She knew she had to. 

The calendar marked two weeks since her rescue, and she found herself in the bathroom, staring at the two little pills in her hand. She looked at herself up in the bathroom mirror and then heard sighing grunt. In the reflection of the bathroom Mirror, she could see Gérard taking his shirt off in their bedroom. She watched the way his muscles shifted across his back, the way his scars from the Rome explosion danced on the sides of his ribs as he tried to stretch the aches of the day away. She looked at her husband, then down at her pills, then slipped the pills back into their jar with a slight smile and closed it. She didn’t want to knock herself out. Not yet. She slipped out of the bathroom and slid her arms around Gérard’s waist, kissing his shoulder.

“Hello,” he said, looking over his shoulder at her. She grinned, then slipped under his arm so that she was in front of him, then pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him, kissing him as his arms wrapped around her.

“Amélie–Amélie—” he started between kisses and she broke away to let him speak, “Are you all right?” he said, his thumb stroking the bottom of her ribcage.

“Ugh Gérard, I’m fine,” she said with an eye-roll.

 “I…” he tucked some of her hair back, “I know you want to put what happened behind you… behind both of us, but you don’t need to push yourself, you can take your time.”

“I feel like a glass doll ever since I got back… All this fussing, all these evaluations…” said Amélie, glancing off, “I just… I want to be your Amélie again.”

Gérard smiled up at her, then gently put a hand on the side of her face to turn her to look back at him. He stared into her eyes. “You are,” he said, “And you will always be, my Amélie.” 

He embraced her and they kissed and rolled back on the mattress then. They made love for hours and fell asleep in each other’s arms. She loved him. He loved her. She was Amélie. She was his Amélie.

And then she woke up. 

And then she wasn’t.

There were no night terrors tonight. Just a high-pitched ringing that woke her up. She glanced over at Gérard, happily, comfortably sprawled across the bed. The ringing in her ears was deafening.

“I’ll be perfect.”

“We know you’ll be.”

She walked through the dark of their room into the bathroom, opened a drawer and pulled out Gérard’s straight razor. She remembered the dead baby bird with the ants swarming over it on the sidewalk. She remembered long drives through hills and down poplar-lined roads. She remembered a hand clasped in hers. The ringing in hear ears drowned out everything. Drowned out every image. She remembered a gun in her hand and its barrel pressed against the black-bagged head of a stranger and even that faded to the din of the ringing. 

“I’ll be perfect.”

She set the razor against Gérard’s throat.

“I’ll be perfect.”

She drew the razor swift and deep across his neck. He always kept it sharpened so diligently… he barely felt it. His eyes opened as he was bleeding out and he looked at her face. He didn’t even fully comprehend what was happening. The mattress was red beneath him already, the blood spilling out on either side of his neck and soaking into the pillows looked almost like red wings. She didn’t flinch away from his body as the blood saturating the mattress stained her knees. She bent and kissed him on the lips before walking out onto her apartment’s fire escape, still naked, still holding his straight razor in one hand. She ascended the fire escape to the roof of the apartment, not even shivering in the night wind. She stared up at the sky and watched as a Talon transport descended from the light-pollution-orange fog overhead. It turned as it descended, opening its bay doors to her which touched against the gravel of her roof. She stepped up into the transport and the door closed behind her as it lifted off into the sky. She watched the lights of Paris shrinking away beneath her.

“I’ll be perfect.”

“We know you’ll be.” 

[rainbow-squirrels-7]

!!ENDGAME SPOILERS AHEAD!! Since I did it last year with Infinity War and now that I’ve seen Endgame twice here are my ramblings:

But before we begin apparently I accidentally predicted Endgame’s title during my IW ramblings and then completely forgot about it...

-so like that friggin beginning tho poor Clint like the entire movie. Agreeing with a favorite YouTube movie reviewer of mine, this was really Clint’s shining movie despite his uh- downward turn for a bit there -but on the bright side I’m glad his older kids’ names are canon now; like legit I thought those (Cooper and Lila) were made up by the fanfictioneers. Maybe they were and the writers were like ‘huh okay less work for us- yoink’ -then Nebula and Stark playing table football that was adorable. The shiny paper reminded me of that one Chris Hemsworth gif you know the one of him making a face at his reflection? -and heck yes Carol coming in hot to save the day what a legend -woohoo go get Thanos time -and he’s just in a frickin farm in a T-shirt (a T-SHIRT?!?) collecting some fruits and starting a new YouTube cooking channel -“what’s up half of the universe today we’re making weird bumpy fruit stew” -but heck yeah Thor cut off that guy’s head -and then just like whoa five years later. I usually can’t stand time jumps but it’s alright. It really gives a perspective of ‘yeah the world isn’t better with half its population. Everyone’s so sad’ -good job of Steve starting a therapy group tho even if he doesn’t take his own advice -I can’t believe a rat saved Scott talk about lucky -unless that rat was actually Loki -just sayin -and the bike kid: “wouldn’t you like to know weatherboy” -I forget how old Cassie was in Antman and the Wasp but +5 years to that I guess. She looks a bit too old to me but what do I know. I’m very glad she didn’t disappear though cuz I love Scott very much and I don’t want him to go through that -tbh Scott saved everyone cuz he had the time travel idea in the first place. I love an optimistic boy -UHBUHH I HAVENT TALKED ABOUT CAROL’S HAIRCUT YET UM HECK YEAH -it’s very good I’m very gay -anyway -I liked Nebula’s prominence in this movie she’s growing on me but of course it doesn’t take a lot on account of me loving robots (cyborgs?) so much -getting the band back together! -baby Morgan Stark/Potts was Very Good -ohmygod Thor -so chub -I was annoyed being without beefy Thor the first time, but rewatching it though I thought his Look was maybe not only reflecting his depression (cuz yeah) but maybe mythological Thor? Like I’m just throwing spaghetti at the wall but maybe in actual Norse myth Thor was (well, actually a redhead) that chub/beef combo but he did have the fluffier beard that MCU Thor had this time. Idk, like I said- spaghetti -Valkyrie’s back! Love her -they call her that though? Isn’t that what she is- like her job? Does she not have a name? Could have sworn it was Brunhilda or something -and Korg and the sharp bug guy are back too! Love them -friggin playing Fortnite -jokes aside though I do love that deep look into Thor’s guilt throughout the whole movie. Like he thought killing Thanos would just make everything better but it didn’t and just couldn’t deal and would rather drink to forget -Clint’s guilt was also interesting, like showing that ‘oh god he could really go there, he could get this bad given the circumstance’ -just Blade Runner-ing all around Tokyo -I haven’t seen Blade Runner but it has neon lights and rain right? -but yeah I do like the “the Snap took away good people and bad people but like it could have just took bad people and since it didn’t I’ll have to instead” -sad boy -he was very uh ‘Magnus rushes in’ if you will, during this movie. Not caring for a lot of it if he lived or died cuz he’d lost so much -god he was good in this movie -anyway -I also called the time travel:

-it still doesn’t completely make sense to me though? Like time travel is confusing enough but adding in a multiverse just makes it even more so -I loved the revisiting the old movies! -low key wanted an Age of Ultron revisit so we could have OMG we could have seen Pietro again -still on the #bringbackpietromaximoff train guys -but anyway we could have seen some good Wanda scenes and also my boy Vision again -but it did make more sense to get the three in NY at the same time -it was real cool to see the bald wizard lady (Minerva from TAZ Amnesty) defending the wizard building during 2012 Avengers- like that is so believable and now we can watch 2012 Avengers and be like “oh hey the wizards were there” -“that is America’s a**” I love how much Scott hero-worships Steve like we saw that in Civil War and yes it’s so funny and I love it its great -Steve vs Steve fight?? Great -“I can do this all day.” “Yeah yeah I know.” -And again, we can totally watch 2012 Avengers again and be like ‘yes meeting with Secretary Pierce and the other Shield guys- this is totally believable, it’s exactly what would have happened we just didn’t see it.’ -the elevator scene! I thought for sure Steve was gonna do the “now before we begin does anyone want to get out” but the “hail hydra” was just as good -“they’re hydra but we don’t know that yet” “they Look like bad guys!!” -and I guess Loki using the Tesseract to escape during that scene is setup for a... tv show? He’s gonna be wreaking havoc through time and space I guess?? Glad he’s back though -anyway revisiting more movies -friggin Guardians 1 -Quill singing Come and Get Your Love really badly cuz all we heard was the actual song and OhmyGOD that was hilarious -I’m glad Rhodey and Nebula got on a team cuz they can be prosthetic buddies -but did Nebula just not tell Clint and Nat that one of them would have to die for the Soul Stone? Or did they know and just not wanna talk about it till it came up? -TBH I though the ‘lose someone you love for the stone’ requirement would have been filled by both Clint and Nat already cuz Clint could have been like “um my dude do you even know how much I’ve lost already??” -apparently not though -Nat’s hair was great for the time travel parts I liked the red fade to white -though it was a sad and intense moment with Clint and Nat deciding who of them had to die it was also sweet cuz you can see how much they care for each other -and I was- well not glad but I really wanted Clint to see his family again -not that The Avengers weren’t his family -that friggin line “did she have family?” “Yeah. Us.” GOD -and then there’s that whole rigamarole with double Nebulas and oh Gamora’s back too -again time travel/the whole multiverse thing apparently doesn’t make sense to me so I’m just gonna gloss over it as much as I can until I can get more into it later -anyway the other time travel to the 1950s! -cool callback to Winter Soldier like you could see Zola going into the bunker -like So many people were there at the Camp Lehigh (idk if that’s how it’s spelled) like Everybody was there -good good moments with Tony and his dad -I thought it would have been cool for Tony to have given his dad the inspiration for his own name but oh well. Maybe that wouldn’t have even worked with time travel and all -Steve’s prank call to Hank Pym that was funny “um the box is glowing” -but oh geez the scene where Steve finds Peggy oh god when he goes in the room with her name on the door my roommate and I were watching it together the first time I saw it and both of us went “ohhhhhhh oh nooooooo” -cuz like that’s the first time he’s seen her since he went in the ice! Or at least seen her how he remembers and not old in Civil War hhhhhhhh GOD -I think seeing her there was a factor in his decision later but I’ll get to that later this is a long heck movie -oh and the OG human Jarvis showed up! I like him, I only saw season 1 of Peggy’s show but I remember liking him a lot -but yeah back to the present unless- well I’m sure I missed something -OH FRICK THOR’S BIT -I can’t Believe they went back to The Dark World -tbh I actually like The Dark World I think it’s a good movie but it’s not universally liked -callback to the scene with Loki tossing the cup in the air ahaha that one was always good -so if they had Rocket’s pokey device during that movie the whole plot of that movie could have been avoided? -anyway um Frigga?? What a queen. Literally -I loved “I was raised by witches I can see with more than my eyes” -she’s really what Thor needed there but god the “she dies today” poor boy -she’s so good though -I loved that ‘measure of a hero is being who you are not who you’re supposed to be’ Yes -and the “I’m still worthy!!!!” Thor needed a win -“eat a salad!” -Now back to the present -Stark-Tech can apparently channel Infinity Stones? And doesn’t need a special heart of a dying star and giant dwarfs to forge a special gauntlet um okay -“what do I have flowing through my veins right now?” “Cheese whiz?” -Bruce is so good though so strong I loved the “I was made for this” -so sweet when Laura called Clint! Yes! Everyone’s really back! -and double Nebula just Had to ruin everything tho -before I get into the final battle- I wonder how much of the time travel scenes were reused from old footage and how much was reshoots with the same actors/costumes/sets? -anyway -um rude blowing up the compound -and god the water scenes were so stressful the first time. Water/specifically-about-to-drown scenes always freak me out. Also trapped under ice and squished under something scenes -Clint finding the gauntlet and getting away from Thanos’ cronies! Every time anyone was running with the gauntlet all I could think of was that one goof from TAZ Balance in Petals to the Metal- Taako’s “Grab the Gauntlet and don’t look back” friggin

-also when Steve, Thor, and Tony all go to confront Thanos who is waiting for them, there’s a specific song playing in the background: https://youtu.be/H_9mnO_NOjk?t=120 (it starts at around 2:00) and you’ll hear this series of deep bell sounds? For the life of me- that specific sound sounds SO FAMILIAR and I can’t friggin place it. I can’t decide if it just reminds me of the Wind Dance song that plays in TAZ Balance whenever the Hunger shows up (which is fitting tbh)? Or if it sounds like some boss battle music that I can’t place? Maybe from Pokémon or Mystery Dungeon? I just can’t remember. It sounds real cool tho -but uh yeah UM -STEVE!! WORTHY!!!! -I mean we all be knowing but! -such a cool scene. I started clapping the first time I watched and others in the theatre joined in -not as cool as when Vision lifted the hammer but I’m biased -but things look dark at this point and I can’t remember if it’s at this part or one one next but there’s this real cool wide shot, this real nice tableau of Steve on a hill or something and this light behind him as he faces Thanos’ army and yeah it just looks real good. Like a good computer background I’d like to have or a poster -but yeah then! -“ON YOUR LEFT!” -Yay!!! Portals open and ‘oh yeah! Everyone’s back now! We have friends to help us fight!’ -gave me some good TAZ Balance episode 68 vibes. Could have called for a cool Lup-esque speech tho from Steve since he’s so good at that- “You see this? This is scary. But we can do this.” -EXCEPT -now we reach the part of my rambling where it turns into somewhat of a rant -because I’M annoyed but only for a specific reason that won’t affect the average moviegoer since Apparently not everyone’s a fan... -cuz Literally the only person who doesn’t show up -is my boy Vision -I mean Yes -I Know he was one of the people who died before Thanos snapped -but my hopes were Way Way Up that he’d come back somehow -and UHHH APPARENTLY I WILL JUST HAVE TO BE DISAPPOINTED -everyone Else came back??? Why not my boy?? -he wasn’t even mentioned despite being So Important in IW -except vaguely when Wanda pulled a real Taako in Balance episode 67 “You f**king took everything from me!!!” -she could have took out Thanos on her own for sure like he had to call in the big guns just to stop her from doing just that -strongest Avenger heck yeah -and Carol came too! -friggin Star Wars Episode 8-ing up in here shooting through Thanos’ spaceship that was So Cool -and the Girl Squad! Girl Squad! part!!!! Yes!!!!! So good!!! Protec small Peter! -somewhere, Nat smiled -Spider-Man’s instakill that was great -I loved the ‘pass the gauntlet’ part though -when Clint handed it off to T’Challa, T’Challa called his name and that was good cuz callback to Civil War when Clint said “we haven’t met yet. I’m Clint.” And T’Challa was like “I don’t care”. He does care now! Lol! -Carol just friggin Beast mode Thanos can’t even touch her he had to pluck the Power Stone from the gauntlet to even knock her back! We stan! A legend! -and oof Tony to Stephen Strange “14 million and one we win? Is this it?” “If I tell you it won’t be” -cuz oof -it really was a good ending for Tony though -he started it all way friggin back in 2008 -and the “I am Iron Man” Yes -and also I think it was in Age of Ultron that part when Tony was talking to Fury and it was like “I saw them all dead and that wasn’t even the worst of it” “the worst was that you didn’t” -so it’s very fitting and so so good -lining up with and going against Howard’s earlier “the greater good rarely outweighed my personal interest” and proving that Tony really was so heroic -so like it’s sad but it’s fitting and not like an unsatisfying end for his character -and it’s not like he won’t be friggin mentioned ever again or anything he’s friggin Iron Man he’s already in the new Spider-Man trailer -(no shade at all in the ‘not begin mentioned at all’ category...) -anyway oh wait -oh god Peter Parker tear my heart out again sad boy he’s so good at making us sad when he’s sad about Tony -yeah anyway again -loved the “proof that Tony Stark has a heart” disc from the first movie that was good -oh and so like the camera is moving through all the different groups of people on the dock and moving towards the house -(just an interlude but CAROL IN A SUIT UM YES) -there’s a shot of some random kid! And I didn’t know who it was until I was leaving the theatre and another guy heard me and my dad talking and he told us! It’s the kid from Iron Man 3! Now That was a nice throwback -but yeah then it gets into the I guess TAZ Balance Rebuilding Year-esque scenes -which were all Very good! Good family scenes; Hope and Scott and Cassie, and T’Challa and Shuri and their mom, and that scene with Wanda and Clint was very good BUT -would it have been So Hard to do just a small scene of maybe somewhere in Wakanda like Shuri helping to rebuild Vision with all that vibranium while Wanda was there watching? Maybe even from his old body?? Would that have been so hard?? Just Something to give me hope?? -why are all these movies So Against Wanda being happy??? -but yeah almost to the end -more time travel with Steve going to return the stones! I’m glad Sam and Bucky got more lines I love them both -but what I really loved was that Steve got his Magnus ending -not in a “how does Magnus die” way but a “how does Steve live” way -love me a good happy ending esp if it involves dancing like that’s All he wanted -like I said earlier, I think just seeing Peggy again was enough for Steve to be like ‘oh it doesn’t matter if I can’t live without war action (a la what Ultron said in AoU) i do really want that life with Peggy and I can do that now’ -it was just Good -but it does raise a few time travel questions -like if Our Steve went back to the 1940s (he did go to the 40s right?) does that mean that there’s another Steve still stuck in the ice? I would say there can only be one Steve at a time but that was proven wrong in the very same movie. There’s gonna be something to do with multiverse in the next Spider-Man which will of course just make everything all the more confusing but still... I guess if I don’t think about it too much it’s not such a big deal -it was also very fitting that there weren’t any after credits scenes. It reminded me of the end of TAZ Balance with the announcer (Junior) not announcing the final episode since he said in 68 that we’d have to see what happens in the last one together. Idk but I liked that -and I liked the signatures of all the OG avengers! That was like them signing off on this huge thing they did, which is really what happened! This huge friggin 12 year thing! -wait was that what the 12 meant all along?? The 12%, the 12 minuets? We may never know -but anyway back to the most important part to me -my boy Vision

-I was so naive  

-like I’ve been told there’s gonna be a tv show or something but like -come on -you could have given me Something -I feel like Griffin in the Fallout 4 Monster Factory after Roachie despawned “nothing?!? You leave me nothing!?!” -so like all in all it was a good movie a Really Good movie I liked it a lot -that Time Heist- I love time travel plots. I already had some of my next DND campaign planned with time travel being a big part- I hope my players don’t think I’m stealing lol -it was very enjoyable and so so good to wrap up this huge thing and put a bow on this story arc. Which I guess can open the door for experimentation now? Which would be kinda cool -Scarlet Witch movie maybe and my dreams can come true??? I can be happy??? Please -I just- one little scene could have left me less disappointed and given me just a little hope but anyone who’s not in the ScarletVision boat will not be disappointed by this movie (cuz the deaths [Tony and Nat] are heroic and satisfying to me, so I’m not not satisfied by that) -it wasn’t Their movie but still. Let me complain -It really was really good though -And I guess I only get motivated to write fanfic like once a year (or whenever new ScarletVision content is in a movie though um the Vision part of that was uh nonexistent) so like my Complements fanfic is in the process of growing a fourth part so look out for that I guess -and if you’re still here reader, I hope you enjoyed my long long ramblings

-and in conclusion:

[lizzy-c807fanfics]

That Old Black Magic Ch.8

Find the whole story here:

FF    AO3

New to the Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire Universe? Read the first story here! -  FF  AO3

Killian Jones and Emma Swan didn’t meet under the usual circumstances but they had an immediate spark that ignited into a fiery relationship. Their complimentary life styles create the perfect partnership at both home and work. Can she and Killian keep up their lucky streak while navigating through the dangerous lives they lead? Find out in this Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire Mystery: That old black magic. 

In this story two sorority girls have gone missing. Emma is on the case to try to track them down. Along the way she manages to piss off some of the wrong people adding complexity to her case. 

Ch. 8

Graham was talking the whole ride to Bachelor Party Arms. She’d have to admit if he asked her about what he’d said, she’d have to admit that she hadn’t been listening to a single thing. She’d been thinking about the threat she’d received from the scots and her poor bug. Nobody messes with her bug. Once she figured out who dared touch her baby she had a special kind of pain in mind for them. It wasn’t until the car stopped moving that she realized they’d arrived. She snapped back to reality and focused on what Humbert was saying.

“Listen, I’m going to take lead on this. You just follow behind and wait for my signal.” said Humbert.

Emma cocked her eyebrow. “Are you expecting trouble from these guys? I thought you said it was a bunch of college kids that lived here?”

Graham shrugged his shoulders. “I never said they were all college kids, just that a bunch of college kids lived here. Look around Emma, this isn’t exactly the safest neighborhood.”

She was suddenly aware of her surroundings. She pursed her lips.” I see.”

“Not to mention, you are female. So you should let me lead.” Said Humbert.  

She could feel herself getting annoyed. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to protect me. Can we just get this over with please?”  

“Fine, have it your way.”

She got out of the car and slammed the door. She forgot he was a sexist pig for a moment. She’d have to make sure to remind herself in the future, even if he was being nice. He was halfway up the walkway by the time she caught up to him. He wasn’t wrong about the smell coming from the building. It was a combination of body odor and hot garbage. What looked like a normal unassuming apartment building on the outside was anything but normal once you stepped inside the beast. The smell outside wasn’t even the half of it, once you entered the threshold it was like walking inside a sticky, smelly sweat sock. The dark blue carpet was a combination of damp and sticky, she could swear she was leaving footprints as she walked. It was just gross. This must be what ants experience when they go into those traps.” Said Emma as she continued down the hall behind him.

He turned to face her. “You hear that? Sounds like there’s a party upstairs. Maybe the 4th floor. That’s usually where the parties will be.”

“I take it you’ve been here before?” asked Emma.

He hesitated.” I may have lived here for a while, you know back when I was in college.”

“Ah, no wonder you know so much about the place.” Her opinion of him just got better and better as she learned more about him.

“It was once home. I know it looks bad now, but it wasn’t this bad back then.” He explained.

She didn’t believe that for a second, but an inside man is helpful. “Ok, I feel better knowing you’re knowledgeable about the place. Is there another way out of here or just that front door?” she asked.  

“Yeah, there’s a fire escape staircase down the backside of the building. You can get access to it at the end of the hall on each floor.” Said Graham.

“Ok, Good to know. I’m ready. Lead the way.”

Graham smiled and quickly bolted up the staircase to the next floor. The second floor was brightly lit and had a carpet that was slightly less sticky.  She looked down the end of the hall and there was a big window. She could see the fire escape through the window. She could never be too careful. The music was getting louder. She kept moving up the staircase towards the source of the music. The third floor was like the first, sticky and dark. Same big window at the end of the hall.

“It’s just upstairs. I was right, probably the penthouse.” Said Humbert.

“This place has a penthouse?” asked Emma.

“Yes, It’s one of Gold’s properties. He has a penthouse in all of his buildings.” Said Humbert.

“I should have guessed. That man will do anything for a buck.” Said Emma.

“Let’s go see if we can find our guys.” Said Humbert.

She looked down the hall and then back at Humbert. “Hold on. Maybe you should wait here.” Suggested Emma.

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a cop. I’m not. Those kids see a cop coming to the door they might get spooked and start running.” Said Emma.

“I see your point. Alright. I’ll give you 15 minutes. Then I’m coming in.”

She smiled.” Deal. It’s just a bunch of kids having a party right? How bad could it be? “

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Killian walked up towards Wally’s he noticed Emma’s car off to the side. His blood started to boil again at the thought of those punks threatening her. He walked into the garage door and the chimes went off. “Be right there.” Called a scruffy voice.

Killian looked around the small room. It was dingy and dimly lit. The sounds of banging and machines buzzing could be heard from the other room. Sounded like they were busy.

“Hey, there. Sorry about the wait. What can I do for you?”

Killian turned around to see a round older man, with a balding head and two tufts of white curly hair on the side. “You Wally?” asked Killian.

He laughed.” Nah, I’m Doc. Wally’s been gone for a while now, just kept the name for sentiment. What can I do you for?”

“I’m here to find out about the yellow bug out front.” He said.

“Oh, yeah. Poor girl. Punks out there need to be put in check. It won’t take me long to get the tires changed out. I can have it back later tonight.” Said Doc.

“Yeah, about that. Any chance you rent cars?” asked Killian.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve got one loaner. It’s a the blue Charger, parked by the door.” Said Doc.

He looked out to see the muscle car in the front. “I’d like to rent that from you if you don’t mind.”

Doc scratched his gritty forehead. “Ok, I can do that. You want me to hold onto the bug?”

“Do you think you can keep the car concealed? It might be good to keep her off the streets for a few days.” Explained Killian.

“Okie Dokie. Let’s get you the keys and you can take Old Blue out there.”

“Great, Thanks.” Said Killian.

He hoped that the fact that it was a supped-up muscle car would soften the blow when he told Emma that he’d borrowed it and asked them to hold her car. She had to understand. A yellow bug would stick out like a sore thumb and those punks knew her car.   If he couldn’t be with her, he could at least do this.

~~~~~~~~~

Oh, it was bad. She entered the darkened apartment to find half naked college kids, drenched in foam and glitter, dancing all over the place. It was a huge room, probably three times the size of their whole apartment. A DJ was setup at the corner of the room playing loud booming music. The only lights in the room were coming from the huge set of speakers to the right and left of his platform and a big rainbow-colored light ball spinning on the ceiling.  

She navigated her way through the sea of bodies looking at the faces she passed trying to find someone coherent to question. Finally, she found a group of kids sitting on funky chairs around a coffee table on the side of the room. As she approached she noticed they weren’t just sitting there, they were taking turns hitting a Hookah. She grabbed an empty red solo cup and pretended to stumble towards an open chair in the circle. One of the boys looked towards her. “Sup Babe? Want a hit?”

She kept her drunken persona up and smiled. “Sup. Anyone seen Al?”

A boy with red hair braided into dred locks spoke out. “Damn, Al always gets the babes.”  

The guy holding the hookah pipe slowly blew out smoke. “He’s in the back room with the prince.”

She pretended to stumble again as she stood from the chair. “Thanks.” She said as she walked away. When she was out of sight she dropped her solo cup on the ledge as and moved down the hall towards the back room.

The door was cracked so she peeked in to see what she was dealing with. She scanned the room cautiously looking for danger. The room was virtually quiet in comparison to the wild party happening in the front room. The décor concentrated on purple, gold and black colors. Purple drapes adorned the windows. There were black leather couches around the room with glass and metal end tables between. There was also a very wild pattern of gold, purple and black in the end to end carpet.  It was definitely a bachelor pad in her opinion.  A brief look around drew her attention to the center of the room. There was a large ornate chandelier over a poker table. There appeared to be a heavy game going on.  There was a small group of people sitting around the table and one guy to the side of the game standing behind a small bar making a drink.

“Damn Nav, you win again.” Grumbled one of the guys.

Her ears perked up at the mention of his name. She focused her eyes towards the handsome man collecting the chips. “Must be my lucky day.” He said as stacked the chips in front of him.  

This was her guy. She needed to get into this game.

One of the guys at the table stood and pushed in his chair. “This game is too rich for my blood.”

She thought to herself must be my lucky day. She relaxed her body and slowly walked into the room. “Got room for one more?”

All eyes at in the room quickly turned to her and scanned her up and down. The guy from the bar moved forward. “Depends, how’d you get in here?”

“I heard about a hot game from some guys out front. They said to come back to the prince’s room to get in. Are you the prince?” she asked.

His eyebrow raised. “Maybe.” He rubbed his chin. “You got cash?”

She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. “This enough?”

He laughed. ” For openers. This is a serious game girl.”

Naveen looked her up and down. “Come on Al, let her play. I’m happy to take her money.”

So that was Al. Both of them were in the same room. Al looked at her again. “Alright, have a seat.”

Naveen collected the cards from the table and began to shuffle them. He had quite a routine with his shuffle. Sliding the cards back and forth on the table, mixing them up and sliding them side to side in his hand. He turned to her as he kept up the shuffle. “You new around here? I’ve never seen you before.”

“Um, yeah. I just started taking classes over at the University.”

“Aren’t you a little old to be taking classes?” asked the jerk to her right.

She didn’t dignify him with an answer.

Naveen started dealing the cards around the table. She watched him carefully with each card. She noticed Al standing back at the bar where she’d first seen him. She noticed Al watching the cards as closely as she was. The others at the table were talking and drinking. The guy to her left was in the middle of a heavy make out session with the girl on his lap.

These guys had stacks of cash sitting in front of them and they weren’t even watching the cards. Clearly, they were some kind of trust fund babies or making cash in nefarious ways. Either way they didn’t care about the money they were about to lose.

It didn’t take her long to notice that Al and Naveen had a scam going. These other poor suckers didn’t stand a chance. She sat back quietly watching until he completed the deal. “So, What’s your name?” asked Al who suddenly came back to life.

“Ellie.” She said flatly.

“Ellie, can I get you a drink?” he asked?

She picked up her cards and began thinking of combinations. “Um, sure. You got any scotch?” she asked.

“That’s impressive. Neat or on the rocks?” he asked.

“Neat.” She slid the cards she didn’t want across the table. “3 please.”

She watched him deal her the cards. The others around the table began doing the same. She quickly glanced at her watch. Humbert should be coming in any time now. As jumpy as he was, she was surprised he hadn’t shown his face yet. She’d have to stay in the game until Humbert crashed the party.  

Al came up behind her with the drink. “Here you go.”

She held up the drink. “Thanks.”

He smiled. “No problem.” He quickly moved back to his position.

She looked at her cards, she had nothing. She wondered if they dealt her these cards to quickly get rid of her. Given that she clearly didn’t have the funds to keep up. She was going to have to bluff if she was staying in this game.  Tweedle dee to her left and Tweedled um to her right wouldn’t be an issue but Naveen, since she knew he was cheating, he was going to make things tough. If she could get rid of those two she could handle Al and Naveen on her own. Where the heck was Humbert already? A thought she never believed would cross her mind.

She continued to play and was doing great. She managed to make it through two quick rounds. Tweedle dum dropped out when his girl started to pass out on his lap. She also managed to pretend she was drinking that scotch one sip at a time, all the while spilling it a little as she went to sit it back on the table. No way she was going to drink anything from this petri dish of an apartment.  

She focused on the cards, keeping one eye on Naveen. She had one more guy to get rid of and then she could start questioning these two about the missing girls. Naveen was about to deal again when she heard voices coming from the back of the room. “You lads got room for more?”

She felt a sudden rush go through her body. She turned around and there were two young men standing in the back and her fears were warranted. She recognized one of the guys as part of group who watched her bust Seamus.

“Hey, what’s this bitch doing here?” he shouted.

“Whoa whoa whoa.  What’s this about?” said Al.

His eyes went wild as he moved towards her. “She’s the one that got Seamus nabbed by the fuzz yesterday. You’re going to pay for that. ”

She stood slowly and backed up from the table.

“Are you a cop?” asked Naveen.

“She ain’t no cop. She’s just some bounty hunter.” Said the other guy.

The slimy jerk pulled out a switch blade. “What’s say we have some fun with this lass?”

Al was quick to react. “Guys, Guys not in here. You know he doesn’t like his room messed up.”

Naveen stood. “Yeah, you don’t want to do this. You know what happened last time.”

“I’ll pay for the cleaning.” Said Switchblade as he continued towards her.

Her adrenaline was pumping. She slipped her hand around her back to grip the handle of her gun. She hated having to pull it but if it came down to them or her, it was her every time.

“What’s going on in here boys?” asked Humbert.

Switchblade quickly stashed his blade back into his pants, slipping to his friend’s side.

“Ah, nothing officer. Just playing a friendly game of poker.” Said Al.

Humbert looked towards her. She raised her eyebrow and glanced back at the scots in the room.

“Doesn’t look so friendly to me. Is everything alright in here miss?” he asked.

She looked around at the men in the room. “Yeah, we were just finished. These guys were too late.” She moved to the table, grabbed her cash and slipped it into her pocket.

Naveen took her lead and did the same, gathering his money. “Yeah, sorry guys. You should leave. We are done for the night.”

Humbert sat back on his heels, thumb in his belt loop as he watched the Scots. Switchblade grit his teeth and turned on his heels as he pulled on his friend’s coat. “Let’s go. We don’t want any trouble.”

Humbert nodded and watched as they left. He turned and missed seeing the jerk sign that he was going to cut her throat as he left.  She let out a deep breath and took her hand off her gun. “Where were you?” she asked.

He smiled. “So you did need me?”

She huffed. “Are you serious? You’re going to rub it in now?” She could feel her phone vibrating in her back pocket. She pulled it to see that it was Killian calling. She could swear he always knew when she was in trouble. “Hey.” She answered.

“Love, I just wanted to let you know I had your car taken care of.”

She let out a soft sigh. “Thank you. Listen I’ve got to take care of something. Can I call you back?”

“You don’t sound well, is everything alright?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m alright. I’ll explain when I see you. I’ll call you soon. Bye.”

“Bye.”

“If you’re done checking in can we get started?” teased Humbert.

She rolled her eyes at his comment.

“Are these the guys?”

She slipped her phone back into her pocket. “Yes.”

Naveen held up his hands. “We didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, what did we do?” asked Al.

“We need to ask you both a few questions about the disappearance of Charlotte and Tiana.” Said Emma.