#Willow is also good don’t worry she just stayed home this weekend

[winedogs]

this trial had EVERYTHING. knocked bars. technical difficulties. blown teeters. bad handling. good handling but Jay blew me off and did what he wanted anyways. flawless dogwalk contacts that meant nothing because he popped the weaves for no reason. and a perfect 6.7YPS JWW run with one singular bar to make me go insane.

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Amoreena meets Jo, Jo shares her experience with the foster homes (tw self-harm and child abuse), and Spencer shares his shitty childhood with her. They bond, he loves her more than he thought possible, his dreams of a big happy family are coming true.

word count: 4.8k

from the beginning <3

His phone is ringing at 7:50 and all he does is groan, forgetting Y/N’s agreement with Amoreena. His wife reached over his face and towards the phone, picking up with an overly cheerful tone for a pregnant woman who was up until 3 am.

“Hello sweet girl, how was your sleep?”

“Ugh,” she makes a weird face as the morning nausea kicks in and she tries to swallow it down. “Yeah? Oh, I’m so glad, dad and I are just waking up. We have another big surprise for you today… I know honey there’s always a lot going on, but this one is a good one I promise!”

“Can I go talk to her?” Spencer asks, “alone?”

“Dad’s going to come and see you while mommy has a shower, okay? I love you too, bye,” she smiles as she hangs up and passes the phone back to him.

They kiss quickly before separating, Spencer throws on the same clothes from the beach last night before heading down the hall towards Amoreena’s room. He knocks quietly before entering, seeing her sitting in a queen bed with 2 cats.

“Taylor let Olivia and Benjamin stay in here last night, she said they usually sleep in here anyway!” She was whispering, but it was still loud for her this early.

He sat on the edge of her bed and gave her a big hug, “how was your night?”

“Really amazing, Dad, Taylor is my best friend now,” she’s completely serious, “I hope mom’s not too upset about that, I guess we could share her…”

“That’s a nice thought, are you good at sharing?”

“I think so,” she nods with a serious face.

“Good, because there’s a new person who’s coming to live with us. She’s going to be kind of sad for a while and I’ll be spending a lot of time with her too,” he watches her face as she listens, confused but fine with it.

“Who is she?”

“Did your mom tell you how she made you?”

She nods, “she said sometimes people with penises donate sperm to help people have babies, and you were the one who donated for me,” she gives him a run down so seriously that it makes him laugh like the 7-year-old.

“Yeah, exactly, well I also helped 2 other families make babies,” he says softly, petting her hair as she understands what that means.

“So I have more siblings?”

“Yep, 2 sisters and a brother,” he smiles as she starts to bounce with excitement. “Josephine is 12, almost 13, and she’s coming to live with us.”

“Where is her mom?” She asks, he knew she would.

“Her mom and dad were in an accident, they died and she looked for me because she didn’t want to be alone anymore,” he knows it’s a hard topic, and that she understands death after losing her gg, but it’s still hard.

“Oh, that’s sad,” she frowns, moving in to hug him again, she keeps her head pressed to his shoulder. “I hope she’s okay, is she here now too?”

“She is, but I’m not sure if she’s awake yet, she’s a teenager and they sometimes sleep in longer than you would, like when Henry was over and slept until noon,” he has all his kids profiled in his minds and it’s actually more helpful than a hindrance.

“Does she like Taylor?”

He knew that one was coming too, “she’s a huge fan, she cried meeting her just like mom.”

“Is she going to call my mom her mom now?”

“I don’t think so, would that upset you?” He’s worried for the answer, he had the same jealous tendencies growing up. Hell, he still has them.

“No, she needs a mom, I would be very sad without mine, I know she needs one too,” she looked at him like it was a stupid question because of course, all kids need a mom and her mom happened to be the best.

“That’s really nice of you, she knows all about you and she’s really excited to move in with us, maybe you can help her decorate her room?” He isn’t sure what Jo will think, but he knows it would be good for bonding.

“Can we see if she’s awake? Wait, she’s a she right? Miss Kennedy said sometimes people look like girls but they don’t like to feel like girls, so we use they,” Amoreena was so worried about being a good sister he didn’t know why he worried so much.

“Well, I’m not sure, Jo hasn’t told me but you can ask?”

She shot right out of bed, still in her dress from last night as she ran to the door, “come on, what room is it?”

“Right there, knock nicely,” he says as he joins her in the hall, pointing to the room across from her.

She knocked 3 times, hearing a small ‘yeah?’ From the other side before opening it, “good morning!” Amoreena cheered.

“Amoreena!” Jo smiled as she got out of bed and ran over to her. She dropped to her knees so they’d be the same height and wrapped her up in her arms.

They hugged like this was a reunion and not an introduction, they held on to one another so tightly they both squeezed their eyes shut and held their breath. He knew that kind of hug, that was a hug you gave when you deeply loved the person you were hugging.

It made him want to cry, again.

Jo pulled back from her and Amoreena immediately held her face in her hands, observing her. “Yep, you’re my sister,” she smiled as she saw her nose.

That same perfect little button that was slightly angled towards the sky, she booped it lightly. Jo booped her right back.

“I am, it’s pretty cool getting to share a dad with you cause now I get to meet Taylor Swift, how the heck did we get so lucky?” Jo talks to her like she’s used to being around kids, finding the wonder in every word and saying the whole sentence with enthusiasm.

She turns to him, both his girls making the same face as they looked at him in the doorway, “how did you meet Taylor, dad?”

“You remember Uncle Dave? He came over for the barbecue and talked to poppy bob about winemaking all night?”

“Yeah, he’s Italian,” Amoreena remembered his funny accent and how she called him Mario.

“His daughter is Taylor’s friend, so Taylor sent me an email asking to meet you,” he couldn’t help but smile as she did.

“So you guys really are knights at the FBI, huh?”

“Yeah, but my armour got too rusty so now I’m going to guard the princess only, no more battles for me,” he was happy to make it magical, to turn the terribleness of it all into something she could be proud of.

He feels cold hands reaching under the back of his shirt then as he jumps, Y/N is wrapping her arms around him and pressing her cheek to his back, “your armour is fine, it just needs some polish.”

“They’re kinda gross, you’ll have to get used to that,” Amoreena says, pressing her lips together awkwardly as she looks at Jo.

“It’s nice though, it makes you feel like love is real,” Jo smiled back, “not many kids have happy families.”

“You do now, okay?” Amoreena took her cheeks in her hands again, something she must have learned from Y/N. “My family is your family and we are the best family, you’re going to have so much fun with us, can I help you decorate your room?”

Jo cried, laughing lightly as she nodded, “that would be cool, maybe we can get bunk beds for random sleepovers?”

Amoreena shot her eyes to her mom, “can we?”

“That would be cool,” Y/N agreed, “we’ll go to Ikea on Friday when I’m not working, okay?”

“And this weekend we can buy some paint for your room?” Spencer added, “you guys can plan all week together.”

“Yes!” Amoreena cheered, hugging Jo again.

Jo held her gently, resting her cheek against the top of Amoreena’s head with a small smile. She looked genuinely happy, peaceful like she belonged somewhere again.

Right then Amoreena’s eyes are darting right to him, “It’s fathers day!” She screams, way too loud for 8 am in someone else’s home. Thank god Taylor was on the other side of the mansion.

“Oh my god,” Amoreena smacked her forehead with her little hand, “I was so carried away with the wedding I didn’t pack your present, dad! I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve got you covered little miss,” Y/N smiled at her, “It’s in my purse!”

Amoreena pushed past them in the doorway and ran to their room in search of said purse. Probably emptying it out on the bed and making a huge mess, but it was fine.

Y/N took a moment to kiss his cheek, “good morning, happy father’s day.”

“Thank you,” he blushed, turning to face her and hold her close, “I can feel you staring Jo, come here.”

She comes skipping right over, wrapping her arms around them both and resting her head on Spencer’s side. For a 12-year-old she was tall, a lot taller than Henry was, that’s for sure.

“Hey!” Amoreena butts in, “let me in,” she pushed into the middle of the hug to steal all the warmth, “happy father’s day, dad.”

“Happy father’s day,” Jo added with a soft smile, “thank you for everything.”

“Yeah, you’re the best dad in the world, Jo you should see how he reads with his mind, he doesn’t even need to look at the books at bedtime,” Amoreena bragged, pulling back from all of them then.

Spencer wiped the tears from his face and pretended he wasn’t crying, overwhelmed by love just like he told Jo to expect. “I love you guys, I’m so glad I helped make you both, you’re the best kids a dad could ask for.”

“Here,” Amoreena hands him a wrapped present.

It’s a handmade book, blue construction paper bound with green ribbon in little loops and covered in a thin layer of tissue paper from the present he got her last week. He carefully removes the tissue and hands it back to her, “do you still want it for dresses?”

“Sure,” she takes it with a smile, “I wrote this for you after a dream I had, Miss Kennedy helped me write it all and reword it a bit. But it’s all from my brain.”

“Spencer’s little women,” he reads and then his heartbeat almost stops when he sees the bottom, “by Amoreena Reid.”

“We can go sit in the living room while you read it to us?” Y/N offered, taking the girl's hands and leading them all down the hallway.

Taylor’s house was full of floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing them to watch the sunrise over the ocean as they cuddled up on the couch as a family. Him and his little women.

“Once upon a time, there was a kingdom ruled by a beautiful princess who had a broken heart. She promised to hide away from the townspeople until she gathered all the pieces again,” Spencer read the first sentence and knew he wouldn’t be able to make it through the whole book.

“You know, I think it would be better if you read this to me Amoreena,” he asks her gently, “I want to know it from your voice first.”

“Okay,” she bounces up from where she cuddled into her mother to take the book from his hand, sitting straight as she got ready to read.

“Slowly, but surely, the pieces came back to her one by one as the people felt the need to search for her, they missed seeing her smile as she ruled alongside her parents, the king and queen until her heart was fixed.

A little girl, Lady Amoreena, arrived like a gift. A fairy godmother handing a small child to the princess to raise and love forever and ever, they were best friends more than anything.

But the princess’s baby girl made it her mission to fix the rest of her heart as she grew up seeing her mom frown, questing for princes and kings, even another princess to come and fill that last missing spot of her heart. To make their family love grew as the cracks from where they separated were healed.

She set off on her daily adventure, running off past the gates on the way to the willow tree, excited to see what wonders the pond of youth brought to her this time. Surprised to find a knight, his broken and rusty armour fallen on the ground, he was wrapped in weeds, he had been trapped for too long to remember.

Amoreena cut the vines off him with her sword, “you’re free now, sir knight.”

“How can I ever repay you?” The kind man with the same nose as her asked.

“Meet the princess, tell her about your battles, make her laugh and you can stay with us,” she gives him one final quest. His last ever duty.

The princess smiles as soon as they meet. He wins her over without even trying, he completes their family and makes all the cracks in her heart fuse back together. Gold light shines from her as she’s healed, completed by the love of a family she never knew she needed.

The love didn’t end there… the knight and the princess knew lady Amoreena would be like her mom when she grew up. The possibility of a sad and broken heart as she got older, so they made her 8 more siblings, her group of sisters to keep her company during the happily ever after part.

“Sir Spencer, where are all your little women?” The king of the land asked, seeing the knight and the princess all alone on the path, old and slow as they walked.

“Down by the pond, it’s story day!”

He knew that’s where they’d always be, at their pond with a book, braiding each other's hair, weaving flower crowns and chasing each other through the wildflowers that replaced the vines that once held him down.

Free, healed and happy. Spencer and his little women healed the princess, allowing her to take the role as Queen, like her grandma always wanted for her.”

“There isn’t a 'the end'?” Y/N’s voice questions lightly as Spencer cries too hard to even respond.

She was the most amazing child in the whole world and he didn’t know what he did to deserve her. He wrapped her up in his arms and held her so tight she was smacking his arm to let her go with a laugh, “I want to add more to it when I’m older, like GG’s book.”

“You can write one for all your sisters,” Y/N smiles at her softly, “you know, gg only wrote Amoreena because you came to her in a dream?”

She nodded, “that’s why I started writing this book for dad because I had a dream about him reading to all of us, he was so old it was funny.”

“How old?” He asks, remembering his reflection from his own dream.

“Like poppy, you had a white beard!”

“What did we talk about?” He doesn’t know why he wants to know so badly but he’s desperate to know if their dream was the same.

“It was story day, you and mom were late, but you said, ‘I’d never miss a Saturday with my little women,’” she smiles, “I’m so glad you’re my dad.”

She holds him back just as tight this time, snuggling into his chest as he breathes her in. His first little baby, even if she was the middle kid now, she was his baby, he couldn’t even imagine holding someone even smaller than her soon.

—

They take a quick trip to target in the morning, needing to get some things for Jo and Y/N really, really wanted chocolate-covered cranberries, making sure he knew that she would kill him if he didn’t bring them back to her. Finally having those pregnancy mood swings he was expecting.

Jo is quick to pick out some summer clothes and a bathing suit for the day as well as toiletries and anything else she wanted because Spencer said so. He was going to spoil her because he didn’t know what else to do. This is what he wanted from his dad, someone to see something, think of him and just get it to make him smile.

She saw some purple bedding that she liked, so it ended up in the cart. And then she needed some new pillow, and some fitted sheets… oh and those curtains are nice… and before they knew it they had $300 worth of things for her bedroom in the back of Y/N’s car.

Jo pressed her lips together awkwardly as they sat in the front seats of the car, he looked over at her and smiled, making her laugh, “this is the best father’s day.”

“I’m supposed to be getting you gifts today!”

“You are a gift, Jo,” he doesn’t mean to get sappy, but he can’t help the love he feels for her already.

“Drive before I cry, dude,” she turns to look out the window. “Are we going to have a 'ground rules and behaviour' speech like all the foster parents do? I have a feeling you have no idea what you’re doing.”

He starts the car then, pulling out of the lot and starting the 40-minute car ride back with her, “how do they normally set the rules in the foster homes?”

“They pay for my phone bill with the money provided for me each month and they sometimes get me the groceries I want for lunches and stuff but they mostly kept the money for themselves. I’m only allowed on the internet for an hour a day, homework has to be done in front of their eyes at the kitchen table, no food after 7 pm, lights off and no walking around by 9,” she gave the rundown and it made Spencer’s stomach turn.

“I will pay for your phone bill, you don't need to worry about that. We can even get you a new one when we get home. Y/N has great internet and every streaming service available, you don’t have a time limit here. Just promise me you’ll go outside sometimes?” He reaches a hand out to hold her’s while driving, letting her know he means what is coming next.

“I trust you have a way of life you’re used to, and I’m not going to change that on you, if you want to share things with me and be open and honest, I’m always here and I will never judge you. I don’t want you to ever feel like you need to hide things from me. And that being said, I trust you enough to use the internet safely, and not hack anything without good reason anymore?”

Derek was right, it’s surprisingly easy to be a dad. All you have to do is love them and be there for them.

“Okay, then I think you should know,” she takes a deep breath and a pause. “I’m pretty sure I like girls too, I never got to tell my mom that but I’m sure she knew, and I’m kind of scared to put my bathing suit on when I get home.”

“First of all, I’m proud of you,” he squeezes her hand 3 times, and she does it right back with a smile. “Secondly, why? Did you not get one you liked? I was fine buying any of them for you.”

“I have a lot of scars on my legs, and I don’t want to scare Amoreena,” she’s really ashamed of herself and Spencer understands it.

He rolls his sleeve up and extends his arm for her to see his very faded track marks, “I was drugged on a case once, I had an addiction after. The scars fade over time, but I also haven’t shown Amoreena my bare arms yet.”

“Mine are pretty faded now too, it’s been a few months, they look more like stretch marks,” she smiled at his honesty, feeling safer with him.

“If she asks, you can say it was from a cat at the foster home. She’ll think about Cinderella and the evil stepmother's cat, and then completely forget why she asked,” he assures her, knowing Amoreena like the back of his hand now.

“Lucifer,” Jo smiles, “I was like her as a kid too, always making up stories and finding new movies to be obsessed with. I have ADHD, by the way, but I’m un-medicated cause my last foster home didn’t listen to the school’s diagnosis,” she says it like it’s not a big deal.

His blood starts to boil at the thought of someone not taking care of her, “excuse me?”

“Yeah, and when I asked for a therapist they said no to that too, I was ‘fine’ apparently and they settled for a dead parents support group so that Colin could have a coffee while I sat there,” she’s oblivious to how terrible it is.

“Make me a list of all the things you want, I mean everything down to the most niche interest or therapy technique that you’ve researched and I will help you with whatever it is,” Spencer is furious at the conditioning she’s experienced to think this is okay.

“You don’t have to, dad, I’m okay now,” she lies and he can tell.

“You don’t have to be, believe me, I cry almost every night to Y/N about things I thought I had recovered from. If you want to talk to someone because you think it will help, or if you want medicine because you feel like it’ll help you focus better or just be happier, I’m here to help you get that.”

She goes quiet, staring at their hands where he’s still squeezing her palm. She rubs her thumb along the skin softly, “did your mom ever hurt you?”

“Only when she wasn’t really there in her own mind,” he presses his lips together right after, he’s never told anyone about it.

“Did your dad?”

“Emotionally, but he wasn’t there long enough to lay a hand on me.”

She nods at the response, “my dad was evil, I think he killed my mom in that ‘accident’, but on purpose.”

“I thought my dad was a murderer once too, but it was actually my dad’s friend,” he isn’t sure why he’s telling her everything, but she deserved to know.

“There was a pedophile in our town who killed this boy, Riley, and my mom told him about a man who was watching me like I was next. And Riley’s dad killed him, but I was so young my mind tried to think it was my dad who did it all.”

“Your old job must have really messed you up inside too, huh?” She tries to laugh it off, scared of his past but intrigued at the same time, he just nods at her observation.

“I have a friend, her name is Penelope, her parents died when she was a little bit older than you. She snuck out and they went to look for her, and they were in a car crash,” he makes sure she’s comfortable, her hand is still in his and her thumb is still moving over his skin.

“Like you, she got into hacking, the FBI had to hire her because she was so good she became a threat, you’d really like her,” he says, turning to look at her quickly, he loves the smile on her face.

“I’d love to meet her,” she smiled, “thank you, I wish you could have always been my dad.”

It breaks his heart a little, “well, you have me forever now.”

—

“Two questions,” Y/N’s voice approaches as she walks towards the trunk of her car.

Jo and Spencer are digging through all the shopping bags trying to find all the things that she needs for the afternoon, leaving the rest for the ride home.

“Here,” Spencer hands her the chocolate-covered cranberries, “king-sized bag.”

“I love you,” she smiles as she takes it, “the second question, how are the suitcases going to fit in there now? We have two kids to bring home, they’re going to be squished.”

“I don’t mind,” Jo smiles, “one time they didn’t have room for me in a car so I sat in the trunk for 15 minutes.”

Spencer wrapped her up in his arms, “every time you tell me a story about what has happened to you, I want to kill someone.”

She laughs, holding him back gently, “believe me, I was an asshole to them, they got what they deserved.”

“What did you do?” Y/N worries about what she’s capable of, Spencer can tell.

“I called the tax people and said they have been claiming foster kids as dependents and now they might have tax fraud charges coming their way,” she seemed very proud of herself. “I would never hurt someone, but I have no problem getting them in trouble.”

Y/N extended her fist, bumping it off Jo’s with a smile, “as you should! Now, come on, let’s go get ready for the beach.”

Jo skipped inside with Y/N, their arms linked as they did so. Spencer couldn’t believe this was his life now. He closed the trunk with a slam, picking up the bag of things he set aside before joining them inside.

“Surprise!!!!” Amoreena screamed as soon as he walked through the door.

There was a hand-drawn Happy Father’s Day banner hanging from the staircase and purple balloons all over the place.

“Happy father’s day!!!” They all cheered for him, even Taylor’s mom was there now, smiling at the display of affection.

Amoreena and Jo came running up to him, wrapping their arms around him and holding him close, nothing felt real. “Can you pinch me?” He asked them with a small smile.

He didn’t think they’d do it, but even Y/N walked over and started pinching him all over. Amoreena pinched his leg, Jo pinched his belly button and Y/N, she pinched his cute little butt as she pressed a kiss to his blushing cheek. “You’re very real, so are we.”

“I love you guys,” Spencer reminds them, holding them all as close as he can for just a moment, “okay, enough sappiness, let’s go to the beach!”

Amoreena and Y/N are already in their swimsuits under their sundresses, Jo, on the other hand, picked out some trunks and a tank-style swim top, hiding her scares just enough that she felt comfortable getting in the sand and building a castle with Amoreena.

Y/N laid on the towel beside Spencer in the shade, Taylor and her mom were playing scrabble on the picnic table, her dad was cooking up burgers on the grill. It was serene, it was perfect, they were a little family and it made absolutely no sense to him how it all worked out so well, but he wouldn’t change any of it.

“Look how big it is after lunch,” Y/N grabbed his attention, sticking her belly out as far as it could go, “I’m going to get so huge again, at least this time I’ll be the biggest when it’s cold out.”

“Are you comfortable? Do you need more sunscreen or water?” Spencer worried, making her smile as she pushed her sunglasses up and turned to him.

“I am fantastic, thank you, cutie.”

He leans in to kiss her gently, but she wraps her arms around him and pulls him down on top of her. Kissing him like she just rescued him from the sea and hasn’t seen him for years.

When he finally pulls away, he doesn’t go far. Just sitting up as he brushes her hair off her face, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she reminds him with another soft smile.

“I missed mother’s day with you by only a few days, but you should know you’re the best mother in the whole world,” he whispered, wanting to share his day with her because, without her, he wouldn’t be a father.

She pulls him into another kiss, hands resting on his cheeks as she breathes in deeply through her nose. It’s like she’s taking the soul out of his body, he's a part of her now forever and always. He never wants to be anywhere else.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

@k-k0129

[carryonmywaywardcaptain]

Miles of Memories- 1

We’ve Got Tonight- Bob Seger

Miles of Memories Masterlist CarryOnCap’s Masterlist

Dean x reader Best Friends to Lovers AU

Summary: Feeling anxious about heading off to college, you make the most of your last night in town with the help of your best friend, Dean.

Warnings: fluffy, adorable Dean and fun banter. Slight angst (goodbyes are hard). Minor mentions of childhood trauma

WC: 2,900

A/N: This part is like a “prelude” to give you a glimpse of Y/N and Dean’s relationship (5 years before the main storyline). I hope you stay tuned for the slowest of Dean x fem!reader slowburns. I’m so excited to share this story, so please let me know what you think! MASSIVE thanks to my spectacular and badass beta crew—@christopher-evxns @deanwinchesterswitch @ezilyamuzed & @wonder-cole—for all of their help and input!! I edited even after their feedback, so all mistakes are my own.  Credit to Bob Seger for the song :) 

Zipping your suitcase closed with a heavy sigh, you worked through your mental checklist for the hundredth time to make sure you hadn’t forgotten to pack anything.

“Jeez, you act like it’s the last time you’ll ever see this place or something.” With a smile and a roll of your eyes, you turned to see Dean leaning casually against your doorframe. “Y’know, I figured I’d talk to Bobby about renting this space out anyway. Save you the stress of missing it while you’re gone because it’ll look completely different the next time you come back.”

“I’m not too worried. I think you’re the last person Bobby would trust with anything—let alone a space in his house.”

Dean grinned, pushing off the doorframe to mosey into your room. “See, normally I’d agree with you. But it just so happens that he gave me my very own key to the garage, so I think he’s coming around. This ready?” He pointed at the suitcase on your bed, and you nodded. 

“Riiight. I’m supposed to believe that Bobby would actually give you a key to come and go at the shop anytime you want.”

Dean shrugged, spinning on his heel with your bag in hand. “Guess he’s looking for a new favorite since you’re skipping town to go be successful out in the real world.”

You snorted and shook your head, silently following him to the door. He stepped out of the way, placing his free hand on the doorknob as you scanned the bedroom one last time. Gnawing your bottom lip, you sucked in a deep breath and tried to alleviate some of the tightness in your chest.

This room had been a safe haven for most of your life, and it was hard to remember the days before you called it “home.” Your mother had passed away when you were a toddler, and your father was a drunk, in and out of jail and your life until one day he didn’t come back. Bobby had often been the one who took care of you when your father needed to pass you off onto someone else. 

You didn’t remember much about the “Travelin’ Man” (as Bobby not-so-lovingly referred to him on the rare occasions he was mentioned), but you could easily recall the night Bobby told you this would be your room for good. The relief and excitement you’d felt upon learning you’d have a space of your own were still vivid. Knowing you had a place you could always return to provided a sense of stability and consistency you’d never known.

Bobby may not have been your father by blood, but he was your dad in every sense of the word. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges and tended to be a hermit, but he also had a heart of gold, and not once had he ever made you question whether he cared about you.

A few weeks after settling into your new home, you had met Jessica and Sam during recess at your new elementary school. Although they were a grade younger, you’d instantly hit it off with them. Jess and Sam had always been there for you over the years, too, willing to lend an ear or make time for movie nights and spontaneous trips to the diner. Eventually, Sam had introduced you to Dean, and the two of you had been inseparable ever since. Each and every memory you had growing up involved at least one (if not all three) of them. But while it was difficult saying goodbye to everyone in general...you still hadn’t been able to grasp the idea of saying goodbye to Dean.

Dean was the one who had been by your side through everything. From heartfelt life chats and your deepest moments of self-doubt to car ride sing-alongs and your loudest belly laughs. He was always there to comfort you, remind you not to take things so seriously, and even drag you into trouble once in a while. 

The thought of leaving him and your safe, familiar home brought yet another wave of apprehension and doubt. What if you were making a huge mistake?

“Y/N...” Dean’s gentle voice coaxed you back to reality. “We’ve still got a lot to pack into our night, so don’t go checking out on me yet.”

Without looking back, you slipped past Dean and heard him shut the door as you made your way downstairs. 

“You know, this wouldn’t be so hard if you would’ve just applied like I told you to. Then we could both be going off to college together, and you’d find out what an honor it would be to have me as a roomie.”

“Okay, well, let me remind you that you’re the one who decided to go ‘see what’s out there’ and get a fancy college degree under her belt. And, even if we did survive being roommates without making the other want to pull their hair out, there’s no way in hell that town would be able to handle both of us.”

“That’s fair.”

“Besides, I won’t have much of a chance to miss you. You’ll probably flunk out and be back here by the end of the semester anyway.”

“Also fair,” you laughed. “Taking a year off to work at The Roadhouse and pretend to get my life together seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’m a little worried about getting into the groove of studying and all that crap again.”

“You know, if you need help, all you gotta do is pick up the phone. I mean, Sammy’s a real bookworm, and he’s only a phone call away.” Dean winked as he held the front door open and motioned for you to lead the way. 

Sticking your tongue in your cheek, you fought to hide your amusement at the way he threw his brother under the bus. Before you made it through the door, you whirled around toward the stairs again. “Dang it. I forgot my bathroom bag. Do you mind tossing that one in the car? I’ll be right back!”

“Another bag? Where are you gonna put all this crap?” he muttered.

After retrieving the pouch from the bathroom upstairs and making sure you hadn’t left any necessary items in the drawers and cabinets, you hurried outside to find Dean patiently waiting beside your car. You tossed the small bag and he caught it with ease, pitching it in the backseat before closing the door.

“And done. Any last-minute stops to make along the way?” he asked.

“Nope. I caught Ellen, Jo, and Jody at the end of my shift yesterday, and Charlie was over for a bit this morning. And, you know, Sam and Jess ditched us for California last weekend. That means you and Bobby are the only two left to put up with me until I leave in the morning.”

When your voice cracked unexpectedly, you cleared your throat and surveyed the scrapyard until the faint prick in the corners of your eyes faded. As your departure drew near and you considered everything you were leaving behind, venturing out into the world was quickly beginning to feel more daunting than exciting. 

“Hey…” Dean gripped the tops of your arms, stirring you from your thoughts. “We’ve got tonight. Who needs tomorrow? We’ve got tonight...babe. Why don’t you staaaaaaaayy—”

You had thought he was going to say something sweet and comforting, but you playfully shoved him in the chest when you realized he was speaking in Bob Seger lyrics. He stumbled back a step, laughing as he walked around the front of the impala and climbed inside.

***

There was an old park on the outskirts of town where Bobby and John would occasionally drop you both off when they had errands to run. As the years passed, you began riding your bikes the few miles across town, taking turns balancing Sam on your handlebars until Dean was old enough to drive. Eventually, Sam stopped tagging along, but somewhere along the way the park became a place you and Dean cherished. 

A large pond stretched across most of the area, and there was a stately willow tree near the water’s edge that served as your designated “spot.” It was a hideaway often overlooked by others, but it was the perfect escape when the two of you needed a place that was all your own. 

“Alright.” Dean plopped down beside you on the blanket. “You’ve got your grub, an amazing view, and the best company you could ever ask for. What else could you possibly want?”

“You’re right. Baby’s good company and all, but she’s not much of a conversationalist.”

Dean grimaced. “Just for that, I might eat your food.”

“Depending on what it is, I might let you.”

He smirked and unrolled the brown paper sack in his hand. “PB&J’s, just like Mom used to make! I asked if she could whip up a few before she flew out to make sure Sam got all settled at Stanford. She said to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t catch you and to wish you good luck. This seemed like a, uh, better idea at the time...now that it’s been a couple of days, these might taste like shit.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you took the sandwich Dean offered. “We’ve probably eaten worse, but I appreciate the sentimental twist. Seeing as how you’re in your 20’s and you had your mom make us sandwiches.”

“Hey, I was going for authenticity! Trying to help you feel like a kid again before you start adulting or whatever and—you know what? Just shut up and eat your food.”

The two of you unwrapped your sandwiches and continued bantering back and forth between bites. Even though the bread was soggy from marinating in jelly for a few days, and it certainly wasn’t the best thing you’d ever eaten, it brought back a flood of nostalgia. 

When a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, your thoughts began to drift to dozens of adventures you and Dean had had here. You gazed out over the water, watching the willow branches graze the surface as they gently swayed in the breeze. You tried to commit every detail to memory as you soaked in the peaceful atmosphere, not knowing how long it would be until you returned.

After a while, Dean chuckled under his breath, and you looked at him curiously.

“You remember that day we were pretending to be pirates, and Dad ended up coming to pick us up early?”

“Of course.”

“Man, he was so pissed when he saw us standing on top of that picnic table we managed to drag out and ‘sail’ into the middle of the pond. Sure made an awesome ship, though.”

You smiled at the memory, though it was anything but funny at the time. “I think he was a little more pissed at the fact that we left Sam playing alone in the gazebo. And obviously what made the ‘ship’ great was the pirate flag I made.”

“Uh-huh,” Dean snorted. “You mean the crappy skull you drew on our lunch bag and stuck on the end of a stick? Pretty sure we were having a blast with the ship because it was my brilliant idea in the first place.”

“I was like 8, and it was still better than anything you could’ve drawn.” You crumpled up your trash and threw it at him. “And I was having fun--right up until you pushed me off anyway. I nearly choked to death on all that nasty water I sucked in.”

“Okay, well, you shouldn’t have been trying to be Captain when I’m the oldest, and it was clearly my title to begin with. There was no plank to walk, but obviously, you had to go overboard.” 

He grinned, keeping his gaze fixed on the water. As you studied his face and noticed the faraway look in his eye, his smile faded. You figured his thoughts had drifted back to his dad, who had passed away a couple of years later. 

“I felt so damn bad, though. I really was afraid you were gonna drown. And Bobby was ready to kill me when he found out.”

“Lucky for you, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

The two of you joked and reminisced for several more hours, eventually watching the sun set over the water until it sank below the horizon. When it was time to head back to Bobby’s, Dean took the long way home so you could crank the radio and sing along with your hand hanging lazily out the open window. Back at the house, you sat on the kitchen counter and talked with both men until Bobby finally bid you goodnight--but you still weren’t ready to call it a night, knowing morning would come soon and it would be time for you to leave. 

After convincing Dean to stay a little longer, you grabbed a couple of old blankets and spread them in the bed of one of the pickup trucks near the house. With your head on his chest and your body tucked comfortably against his side, you chatted beneath the stars until you drifted off to sleep.

***

“Got everything all packed up?” Bobby asked.

“I think so,” you answered.

“Better double-check because I’m not driving a few hours just to bring you a lost shoe or something.” 

“Is that a challenge?” you teased, seeing right through his gruff quip. “Because I bet I could talk you into it. We both know you’re not gonna know what to do without me.”

He frowned a little before smiling fondly, and you could’ve sworn there was a misty glaze in his eyes.

“Yeah. I s’pose you’re right.”

“Oh, don’t get all sentimental on me now. You could probably use a little break. Besides, I’ll be back so often you’ll just get sick of me all over again.”

“C’mere, kid.” 

Bobby reached out and pulled you into a hug. Much too soon, he let go and stepped aside so you could say goodbye to Dean. His soft green eyes had been fixed on you, but he glanced away and clenched his jaw when you took a step toward him. 

“So, uh...don’t forget about us when you make it big out there in the real world—catch a break as an artist or an author or some music critic.”

“Yeah, okay,” you scoffed. “I haven’t even picked out a major yet, but I think I have an advisor who can help me figure out a good fit...eventually. Maybe I’ll be a doctor—or follow in Sam’s footsteps and be a lawyer!”

“There you go. Why not just do it all while you’re at it? Jack of all trades, master of none. Whatever you end up doing, you better come back to visit soon.”

“You got it. Try not to turn into a grumpy old man while I’m gone.”

He shook his head, cracking a smile as he met your eyes. “Only a couple years older than you, brat. Anyway, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night, so I made you a playlist for the drive. Figured I might as well do something useful while I was awake. I sent it to you while you were getting ready.”

Pulling out your phone, you found a message already waiting with a link to the playlist. 

“This is awesome, Dean, thank you. But if it ends up being six hours of nothing but Zeppelin, I’m gonna be pissed.”

He tossed his head back and laughed, making the knot in your throat grow once again at the thought of not seeing him almost every day. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d miss you as much as you were going to miss him.

“Don’t worry; I think it ended up being a decent mix. Not too many classics and not too much of the more modern crap. There was, uh... a certain thought process behind each song, let’s just say that.”

“We all know some of that modern crap is a guilty pleasure of yours. I mean, Taylor Swift?”

“Yeah…” His gaze lingered until his grin faded to a sad smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you leaned forward and threw an arm around each man. Squeezing your eyes closed, you hugged them tight.

“All joking aside...you got nothing to worry about. You’re gonna kick this college thing in the ass,” Dean murmured.

“Thank you.”

Clearing your throat, you slipped out of their embrace and quickly made your way to the car. 

“Drive safe--and call when you get there!” Bobby hollered.

Stealing one last glimpse over your shoulder, you waved and slid behind the wheel. You hit shuffle on the playlist, letting the music fill the vehicle while you fasten your seatbelt.

I know it’s late

I know you’re weary

I know your plans don’t include me...

You shook your head and smiled, blinking back tears at the irony of the song—the lyrics perfectly encapsulating your night with Dean.

Look at the stars so far away

We’ve got tonight

Who needs tomorrow?

We’ve got tonight, babe

Why don’t you stay?

As you started the car and drove away, seeing him and Bobby grow smaller in the rearview mirror, you finally began to cry.

Part 2

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[pmpkinns]

Growls From The Dark (Chapter 1 - Missing)

(I’m deciding to upload the chapters here as I upload them on archieve! I aim to upload a new chapter between Friday or Saturday of each week. Feel free to follow me on my social medio for upload updates and other information! 

Twitter: TiredLeaf@LeafTired , Instagram: _tiredleaf_

Please feel free to leave a comment because I love hearing for y’all!

Word Count: 5K+

Summary:  Luz hasn't shown up to school all week, which leaves her friends concerned. Brushing it off as the human needing to do errands for Eda, Amity's concern reaches its peak when Luz blows off their Azura Bookclub Meeting without any word as to why. Even stranger, Eda and Lilith refuse to tell Amity the truth about the noises she hears from outside the owl house as well as refusing to let her see Luz. Things remain in the dark until Amity is attacked by a strange creature on her way home one night. However, its eyes remind her of the human girl she loves.

____________________________________________________________

It was quiet. Nearly too quiet for Willows liking. Her gaze remained on the empty seat across from her as Gus continued to drink his apple blood without care. There was a silence between them, though it was not awkward, it was oddly peaceful. “Gus, have you seen Luz around today?” Willow asked, a hint of worry clearly laced in her voice. Gus stopped, his eyes shifting to the spot where Luz usually sat. The young witch thought for a moment. Luz had not been in his illusions class that morning, which he found a bit odd. However, his mind had been more focused on writing up an essay for the Human Appreciation Society, discussing a few new things that Luz had told him about the human realm. “I haven’t, but I wouldn’t think too hard on it. Maybe she’s out with the owl lady?” Gus tried his best to calm his friends' worries. They usually talked every morning before school; however, Luz had never picked up.

Willow gave a curt nod of understanding, before going back to the lunch on her tray. As soon as the sound of shuffling reached her eyes, Willow's eyes shot up, expecting to see the smiling Latina. However, they met with a pair of concerned yellow eyes. “Have either of you seen Luz today?” Amity asked her gaze drifting to the empty spot next to her. Willow seemed to tense just a bit, however, remembered Gus’s words. “She didn’t answer her crystal ball this morning, but she’s probably off somewhere helping Eda and Lilith. Also, she does stay with her mother on the weekends, so there’s a chance they’re just spending the day together.” Willow listed the different possibilities. Amity’s ears appeared to droop just a bit, which did not go unnoticed by the plant witch. “Hey, don’t think too much about you. I’m sure she’ll be back tomorrow!” Willow tried her best to raise the spirits of the youngest Blight, Titan knows she needed some joy in her life.

Amity’s eyes continue to remain on the spot where Luz usually sat. Finally, she sighed, giving Willow a reassuring smile. “You’re right, she’s probably just needing a day to herself,” Amity admitted. The group had been through so much within the past two years. With the takedown of Belos, there was still danger lurking in the shadows due to the escape of Kikimora. Due to this, Amity no longer needed to focus on joining the emperors' coven at the time, with Lilith having taken over and currently working to rebuild it and shape it into a proper coven that could do good. Amity now spent most of her days studying, hanging out with her new group of friends, and spending time alone with Luz that the group and her siblings did not need to know about.

School went on normally with only a few incidents. Someone had accidentally created a rather large plant beast that tried to consume students. Another tried creating an illusion of themself that ended up running around the school, spray painting everything in its path. And finally, the school had to evacuate due to a student in potions not paying attention, thus the smoke from their cauldron had caused the fire alarm to go off. The trio met outside, slightly damp due to the water. Willow was busy ringing out the little bit of water from her uniform, meanwhile, Gus created the illusion of a fan to help dry off the notes he had been taken in one of his classes. Amity stood beside him, opening one of her abomination textbooks to try and dry as well. Once everything was situated, and the smoke cleared, everyone returned to their classes to finish off the day. In the end, the group once again met up outside. “Should we just wait to give Luz her schoolwork tomorrow when she comes back?” Gus asked as he stared at the papers in his hands that his teacher had given to him earlier. Willow and Amity shared a look, almost as if they were having a silent conversation with each other. “I think we should wait until tomorrow. That way we can help her if she has any questions.” The plant witch insisted. “I think I’ll copy my notes for Luz tonight, that way she isn’t too lost,” Amity claimed as she thought about the girl, she had a crush on. Willow's eyes shifted towards Amity, who was busy staring at the ground. She bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from smiling as Amity’s cheeks turned a light pink.

“I think she’d like that.” Willow agreed.

The next day, Luz did not meet with the trio at the front of the school. Nor did she ever show up to lunch or any of her classes.

The day after, Luz remained absent, something that was beginning to worry the group. She had not been picking up when they called the owl house’s crystal ball, nor had been seen by any of the local vendors.

“Maybe something finally ate her,” Boscha had commented one day as she listened in on the group’s conversation during class change. Both Willow and Amity shot a look towards the three-eyed girl. She currently wore her grudgby jacket, due to the season starting the upcoming weekend, and tossed a ball in her hand. “Or maybe she’s just tired of hanging out with losers, though, she’s quite the loser herself.” The girl commented with a giggle. Willow took a deep breath to calm herself. “Luz is fine, she’s just out due to personal reasons.” Willow lied. Boscha stopped tossing the ball as she scoffed. She was about to open her mouth once again until Skara roughly grabbed her arm. “Boscha, you’re supposed to be at practice! We’ve been wondering where you’ve been!” She stated, tugging at her friend's jacket. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Amity.

“Amity!” She called excitedly, taking a step forward wanting to talk to the green-haired witch, however she was roughly tugged back. “We don’t have time for talking Skara! We need to practice!” Boscha barked as she pulled her friend away. “But you got to talk to Amity!” They heard Skara whine as Boscha led her down the hall and out the school. Amity’s expression became somber. Skara was not as bad as Boscha and honestly, she would be lying if she said she didn’t miss her. Gus took note of this. “Hey, I’m sure Luz is alright like Willow said! You two have your Azura Book Club meeting tonight, right? I’m sure she’ll be there!” Gus tried his best to reassure the youngest Blight. Amity thought it over. She couldn’t say she’d be exactly happy that Luz decided to miss school but attend their book club meeting; however, the thought that Luz missing school but still wanting to see her made her heart flutter a bit. “Yeah, I’m sure she’ll be there.” She agreed, holding her books closer to her chest as if the gesture helped slow down her beating heart.

Amity waited from six till a quarter to the witching hour in her hideout at the library.

Luz never showed.

Her pillow was soaked with tears when she woke up. Her siblings had suspected Amity to be out at a sleepover but were surprised to hear the front door open from the living room where they were busy watching a horror movie. Eric had nearly screamed, but Emira was quickly able to cover his mouth before he woke their parents up. The twins slowly peaked over the couch, surprised to see their sister slowly closing the door closed. “Mittens?” Emira gently called out, watching her sister tense. Both their eyes widened in concern as they took in their sisters tear-stained face. She sniffled weakly, eyes starring at the floor instead of her siblings. “Amity, is everything alright?” Edric asked, standing from the couch and ready to rush to his younger sister to see if she was hurt. Amity’s bottom lip trembled as more tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. “Amity!” The twins tried to keep their voices low as their sister ran from their view and up the stairs towards her room.

They remained in the living room with the movie paused, giving their sister some time to herself, hoping she would come down and speak with them when she felt better.

Amity never returned to her siblings.

Amity cringed at the feeling of the dried tears against her face. She felt gross and wanted a shower more than anything at the moment. Well, she actually wanted to rush to the owl house to see if Luz was alright, but that would have to wait. Amity crawled out of bed nearly jumped at the sound of knocking echoing throughout the manor. Somebody was at the door. Amity glanced at the clock on her wall and then out her window. It was nearly seven in the morning and the sun was just beginning to rise. The knocking continued and from the sounds of it, the person was clearly not happy. Amity grabbed a change of clothes, preparing to take a shower, before walking out of her room. “I know it had to be those twins!” Whoever was at the door barking.

Curious about the topic of her siblings, and what they could have done to make someone so angry, Amity turns away from the direction of the bathroom to instead stand at the top of the staircase. One of the maids starred unamused at the man in front of her. Amity took note of his attire, chalking him up to be one of the farmers that lived a few miles away in the more rural area of the boiling isles. “Excuse me sir, but I don’t really see how you can believe the Blight twins to be the cause of such-” The maid seemed to be mulling over a variety of negative words in her head “-Misfortune.” She went with. The man huffed, rage clear on his face. “Because they’ve done this before!” He yelled, clearly irritated that he was not believed.

“My fence door was torn apart and some of my screech sheep gone!” The man growled. Amity could tell the maid was holding back an eye roll at the man’s accusation. “Well some may be missing; however, you still have the rest.” The maid claimed, ready to shut the door; however, the man was quick to press his hand against it. The woman’s eyes shifted towards his calloused, the twitch of her brown signaling she was becoming more irritated by the second. “There is nothing left.” The man hissed. Amity tensed slightly. It wouldn’t have been the first time a farmer had beat down their door due to her siblings, but something seemed off. When she came home the twins had been in their pajamas, clearly too lazy and not planning to go out and terrorize people with their usual shenanigans.

The man made no move to step inside the manor; however, he clearly didn’t plan on just leaving either. “And what, if I may ask, are you wanting exactly? Because I shall tell you now, the Blights will now be paying for your losses due to a claim without proof.” The maid stated rather harshly. The man sucked his teeth, ears twitching in clear irritated. His mouth opened and closed before he simply took his hand off the door and turned to walk away. The maid puffed out her chest in a bit of pride, though her eyes narrowed when the man stopped. “I know it was those damn Blight twins! And I’m going to catch them next time!” The man barked as he stomped down the old pathway.

Amity processed the conversation. Her siblings had scared local sheep stiff, laughing as they would fall over, however she could not wrap her head around the twins breaking into something physically to cause chaos. No, that was simply too much work for them. If they can’t use magic to get where they want, they’ll go find something else to entertain them. “Ms. Blight.” The voice of the maid pulled Amity away. Her eyes met with disinterested pair of green ones. “You may wish to change before breakfast. Your parents will be joining you, and I doubt they’d be very thrilled to see you in your school attire on a weekend.” The maid hissed. Amity tensed. No doubt about it her parents would be up soon, so she had to hurry. Quickly, Amity rushed to the bathroom. She undressed of her school uniform and tried to make her shower as quickly as possible, aiming to get changed and downstairs before her parents woke.

When she was done Amity wrapped her bathrobe around her, exiting the bathroom as soon as she finished everything she needed to do. She stepped out, ready to head straight to her room, instead of the waiting hands of her mother. Odalia gently cupped Amity’s face. “Sleep well?” She asked as a small smile graced her features. “Yes, mother,” Amity replied automatically. Odalia hummed lowly, her thumbs gently rubbing against Amity’s pale cheeks. “That’s good. I could have sworn I heard you crying at some point in the night,” Her mother stated which nearly made Amity’s body tense. “Oh darling,” She cooed, bringing Amity into an embrace. “Did you and Boscha have a disagreement? I haven’t seen her or Skara around in quite some time.” Odalia claimed. Amity gave a small nod, refusing to open her mouth in fear of her voice betraying how nervous she felt. Odalia hummed lowly, her nails finding purchase in Amity’s hair.

Usually, such an action would cause people to feel comforted and safe. Amity felt like she could throw up. Odalias nails raked against Amity’s scalp, her fingers stopping to place a strand of green between her fingers. “Such a beautiful shade. It really brings out the brightness of your eyes. The paleness of your skin. It’s absolutely beautiful.” She hummed, gently rubbing the wet strands between her fingers. Her hand once against found its way into Amity’s hair. This time she felt a rather harsh scrape against her roots. It made her wince. “Such a nasty shade. Very distasteful to the eye. Don’t you hate it Amity? This disgusting shade of brown takes away from such a lovely shade of green.” Her mother claimed, fingers pulling at her roots as if she were pulling weeds from a garden. What a silly comparison, as if Odalia had to do a hard day’s work in her life, let alone get dirty in a garden.

“I hate it, mother.” Amity lied.

Odalia hummed lowly in joy. She didn’t need to look up to know that her mother's smile had grown. “That makes me so happy to hear. I’m actually going into town after breakfast to have my hair done for a party your father and I must attend tonight. You’ll join me.” She stated, pulling away from Amity. Odalia’s hands once again cupped her face, giving her no choice but to stare up at her mother. “Be a good girl and wear something nice.” Odalia stated with one more look over of Amity “Don’t embarrass me.” Her eyes read before releasing her daughter's face to head downstair. Amity felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She was quick to rush back to her room, changing into something she felt would be flattering to her mother’s taste, which meant an outfit that her mother had gifted her recently.

It took Amity a moment to find something reasonable, due to her usually stuffing all her clothes given to her by her parents to the back of her closet. Usually what she wore were outfits she bought while out with Willow and Luz, some even coming from shopping trips with her siblings. Once she was changed, she used a spell to dry her hair and pulled it up into its usual half pull back state. She packed a bag, making sure to put in the notes and the homework Willow and Gus gave her yesterday since she had been expecting to see Luz that night. She halted at the thought. Amity sniffled at the memory. Was Boscha right? Was Luz tired of hanging out with them? Had she done something that had upset Luz? Amity shook her head free of the thoughts. If Luz had a problem, she’d come to them to speak about it, she wouldn’t just cut them off. Quickly, Amity made her way downstairs, making sure to drop off the bag by the door to grab when she and her mother left. Breakfast was quiet and uneventful, the twins mostly conversing amongst themselves and answering any questions their mother had.

Due to the takedown of Belos, Odalia had enlightened her family about her “concerns” of the Emperor's Coven. She had made it clear she didn’t feel comfortable with her children joining now that such a corrupt person had taken over. They were not allowed to join until a more suitable person was placed as head of the coven. On their way out, Amity grabbed the bag and slipped it over her shoulder. A carriage waited for them outside, which Odalia insisted her daughter enter first. Once they were comfortable the carriage began its journey to the marketplace. “Schoolwork darling?” Odalia asked, having taken notice of her daughter's bag. “Actually, a student in my abominations course was out sick this week, so I offered to bring them their schoolwork.” Amity partially lied. It felt as if her mother was starring through her, subtle smile still on her face as she checked her daughter for any hints of a lie.

“Such a good girl.” Was all that she said before turning her attention to the window. The conversation ended just like that, and the rest of the journey was silent. At the hair salon, Amity was quickly rushed into a chair by her usual stylist who scolded her for allowing her roots to grow out so much. She listened to her mother chuckle as she was placed in her own chair, the stylist being quick to let Odalia’s hair out of its usual updo. “I told her, brown just isn’t her color.” Her mother stated, relaxing in her chair as the stylist began to work. Amity felt embarrassed as the adults talked about her as if she wasn’t there.

Amity stayed out of the conversation, only speaking when spoken to. The sooner this ended, the quicker she could get to the owl house to see Luz and make sure she was okay. To hold her in a tight embrace and run her fingers through her hair. Amity’s face began to burn at the memories. At the times they were supposed to be having a book club meeting, but instead leaned against each other and took a nap, their arms wrapped around each other. The times they would be out to see a movie with Willow and Gus who didn’t realize that the two girls were secretly holding hands under the armrest between them. Jeez, she really missed her. “- And grudgby season has once again started! My husband and I went to the game last night and my oh my, how things have changed since your daughter left Mrs. Blight.” The man behind Amity laughed.

“All negative I hope.” Odalia chuckle, which caused the rest of the salon employees to give a laugh. They could think her mother was joking, but behind that innocent smile, Amity knew her mother meant what she said. “Your daughter was such a star player, it’s sad that she decided to quit.” He spoke as if he wasn’t talking about the girl who sat in his chair. “Oh, I know. Her father and I were so upset to hear that she quit due to a little mishap with her team. Luckily, she’s feeling better and Amity plans to rejoin the team again next year.” Odalia stated proudly. Amity tensed, her eyes widening. They had never spoken about this. She had no plans on returning to the grudgby team. “Oh, how wonderful! It’ll be so wonderful to see you on the field once again Ms. Blight!” Her stylist stated excitedly as he finished adding the last bit of dye to her hair. “Yeah, me too.” Amity gave a fake smile and even through in a giggle for effect.

“Is she wanting to be grudgby captain again?” An older woman who was having her hair washed asked, joining in on the conversation. Amity could feel her mother's gaze, as the older woman stared at the back of her daughter's head from her mirror. “You bet she does,” Odelia stated happily, which earned a few mumbled of joy from the other clients. Though Boscha had brought Hexside to victory on many occasions, everyone knew that the only way she even became captain was due to Amity leaving. “Oh, how exciting! We can’t wait to see you on the field once again!” A man who was having his hair dyed as well claimed excitedly. Amity chuckled, becoming more embarrassed as attention was drawn to her.

“Me too.” Amity lied once again.

________________________________________________________________

Amity waved goodbye to her mother as she once again entered the carriage, hair more elegant and ready to be seen. Her mother had originally offered to drop her off at the so-called classmate's house, but Amity insisted she walk to prevent her mother from being late. Her mother looked as if she wanted to continue with her daughter, though held back as soon as Amity mentioned the party her mother needed to attend. Before entering her mother had gently brushed some strands of green hair out of Amity’s face with a simple “Beautiful once again.” Slipping past her lips before disappearing into the carriage. She waited till the carriage was out of her sight before turning and heading towards the owl house.

Her concern only grew as a few merchants who recognized her, stopped her to ask where Luz had been. She usually delivered potions to people around the area, however, hadn’t been seen all week. Eda and sometimes Lilith would be spotted instead, selling potions to customers both new and old. Amity began to feel more anxious each time she was stopped and asked about the human girl. By the time she reached the edge of the woods Amity’s pace quickened. As soon as the owl house came into view, she began to slow down. Oddly, King was outside. There were scattered band-aid wrappers drifting away from him and past Amity. Some even floating towards the ocean. She shuddered at the breeze, a reminder that the days were becoming chillier, and that she had forgotten her coat at home. King appeared too busy to realize Amity was walking upon him. Hooty had fresh scratches on him, which King placed band-aids over. “You know she didn’t mean it, something just uh, different for now.” King tried to reassure the cowering owl door. The sound of crashing caught Amity’s attention as well as Kings. They both looked up towards the second floor where rattling could be heard. “Is everything alright?” Amity finally spoke up, causing King to jump and Hooty to hiss in surprise. “Danger! More danger!” The owl cried, still not forgetting when Amity had released her furry upon the door two years ago. Honestly, she thought things had gotten better between them, thus something must have happened to cause the door to be so shaken. “Uh, yeah, what brings you here?” King asked, turning his full attention to Amity. “I came to drop off Luz’s homework since she never came to school all week,” Amity claimed, shifting her backpack off her shoulders.

“Welp, thanks for that uh, greenie? I can give that to Luz!” He stated, jumping up to grab the bag from Amity, who quickly held it out of his reach. King glared at her. “What’s the big idea!” He barked, continuing to jump as if he would somehow jump high enough to reach that bag. “Can I please see Luz?” Amity tried her best to keep her temper under wraps. King finally stopped jumping, a long “Um” escaping him and causing a brow to rise in curiosity on Amity’s face. “King, who are you talking to?” Eda’s voice caught both their attention as she threw the door open. She looked tired and her hair disheveled. Her eyes widened. “Oh, it’s you.” She stated rather tiredly. Did these people just forget her name or something? “Edalyn who’s at the door?” Lilith asked from the couch, leaning over the side just a bit to see past her sister. Her eyes widened. “Amity? What brings you here?” She asked, placing some documents on a small table that had been move beside the couch over the past two years.

Amity’s eyes couldn’t help but follow the papers her old mentor had placed down. More so what caught her attention was that by the way she had placed them signaled she had the papers upside down when she was originally holding them. Odd. “I’m here to see Luz. She wasn’t at school all week, so I brought her homework and was going to see if she needed any help.” Amity stated while opening the bag and pulling out the homework. Eda and Lilith exchanged a look. “We can give that to Luz for your Amity,” Lilith claimed as she stood from the couch. Amity was quick to notice the woman nudge what appeared to be a book further under the piece of furniture. Something was off. “May I ask why I can’t see her? Is she sick?” Worry was clear in Amity’s voice as she asked. “Yep, got a bad human sickness or something. I blame it on this one here’s cooking.” Eda tried to joke and even nudged her older sister who simply glared at her.

“The human is just feeling a little under the weather. However, she may not be-” Lilith was cut off at the sound of a loud banging coming from upstairs. Everyone looked up to stare at the ceiling for a moment before the rustling calmed down, though it was clear someone was walking above them. “Yeah, she sounds very bedridden,” Amity stated with a bit of venom laced behind her words. Eda glared at the girl, though Lilith placed a hand on her shoulder. A warning as to hold her tongue. Eda sighed, “Listen, kid, Luz isn’t doing so hot right now-” another loud bang echoed throughout the house “And she probably won’t be for a while.” The witch claimed. Amity shifted her gaze away from the witches to stare in between them. From what she could see the house was a wreck. The couch had claw marks, there were torn and tattered books and pieces of fabric that littered the floor as well. Her eyes narrowed, was that a large hole in the window behind the table? “Did someone try to break in?” Amity once again questioned. The sisters shared a look once more, a motion that was steadily beginning to irritate Amity.

The sounds continued to pick up whenever everything went quiet, however, Amity was noticing that when she spoke, the sounds would stop for a while. As if on cue, the sounds of scratching at wood interrupted the sisters. “So, what exactly do you have up there with Luz?” The teen asked with a raised brow. Once again, the sounds stopped, causing the sisters to exchange a look. “Nothing of importance. Just an old house, don’t you know they creak and moan?” Lilith claimed, shifting closer to Eda to block Amity’s view of the house further. As soon as she finished speaking, the sounds picked up, the clawing seeming to intensify. “Yeah, you’ve been here plenty of times! You know the sounds this house can make.” Eda chuckled, which earned her a rather sour look from Lilith. Amity mulled the words she wished to use next over in her head.

What caught her attention though was the sound of a rather loud sniffing? It was clear whatever creature was above them was trying to figure out something or had the scent of something it was trying to get to. Once it stopped sniffing the scratching began once again. “I think you should go,” Eda claimed, reaching for the bookbag that Amity held in her hands. Before Amity could register what had just happened, the white-haired witch slammed the door in her face. Amity stared wide eyes as she came face to face with a concerned and battered Hooty. She listened as Lilith scolded Eda for her rude behavior, though their voices began to drown out as they took their arguing further into the house. Hooty took in Amity’s upset expression. “There there, it’s okay!” Hooty stated, wrapping its body around Amity once. She wanted nothing more than to shove the bird tube away, but at the same time, she was trying to wrap her head around what just happened.

“Luz isn’t feeling too well, and it’s not really good for her to be out and about, hoot!” Hooty claimed, its eyes shifting to the side of the house where Luz's bedroom was located. “Is-,” Amity’s voice got caught in her throat. She basically knew nothing about the diseases and sicknesses humans caught. “Is she going to make it?” Amity asked with clear concern of what the answer would be. Hooty’s eyes widened, its normal smile once again appearing. “Of course! Luz is going to be fine once Eda and Lilith sort everything out, hoot!” Hooty stated with such confidence Amity couldn’t help but feel a bit better. “Really?” She asked, happy that she was getting a bit of information out of the house at least. “Yep! Eda’s been dealing with the same thing for years! Hoot!” Hooty nuzzled its face against Amity’s who just seemed lost and confused at his statement.

“Welp, you don’t worry too hard about it! I’m sure you’ll see Luz soon when everything is better!” The owl pulled away from Amity as it spoke, once again appearing as just a face in the door. Amity remained standing; the ruckus upstairs having faded away as background noise by now. She was tempted to continue questioning the bird tube, however, quickly concluded that it would not be much help. It was currently trying to reach a spider that was crawling down its web with the weak attempt of grabbing it with its tongue. Amity slowly backed away, deciding it would be best to return home. She had spent a good bit of her day with her mother, much to her displeasure, though felt it would be best to return home before her parents made it back from their party. Plus, the wind was beginning to pick up as well as the chill in the air.

She spared the house one last glance, even moving closer to the cliff to see if she could peer up at Luz’s window. Oddly, it was boarded up, only adding to Amity’s concern. Taking a deep breath, Amity was quick to turn around and head back home. She was sure once everything was said and done with, Luz would explain herself. Amity had to admit to herself that she felt relieved that Luz wasn’t avoiding her on purpose nor their group of friends. She continued down the normal path, though turned onto a new one that she had found which was a quicker way to her home. She hummed at the memories of all the times she had taken it as she slipped away from the owl house to go home. Her mind was occupied to the point she didn’t realize how late it had gotten and how close she was to getting home. The old money houses that littered her neighborhood came into view.

Most of the houses were lit up due to the darkness that had begun to cover Bonesborough, which brought a sense of relief upon Amity that she was nearly home. Her parents wouldn’t be back till later that night, which meant she could do as she pleased. Getting a warm cup of boiling chocolate sounded delightful, something to bite the chill in the air. Maybe she could even convince the twins not to bother her and instead allow her to watch a movie with them. The ideas of what she could do when she got home began to run through her mind. It was so rare for her to feel like she could be herself at home.

Little did she know that a creature lurked close behind, its snout pressed to the ground as it sniffed furiously. The creature had been tracking her, for quite some time. Its speed picked up as Amity’s scent got stronger. The green-haired witch never ever realized what was coming. The only time she registered anything is when the sound of breaking sticks and running caught her attention and she was shoved off the path by a large body and into the darkening woods on the other side.

_______________________________________________________

Thank you for reading and please feel free to leave a comment!

[beyondconfessor]

Principle Decisions [2/24]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lilith/Zelda Spellman

Summary: “On your knees,” she said, not unlike a school teaching asking the class to sit down in their seats.

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. This is pure fantasy, please suspend your disbelief.

Classes for the week had been exhausting. Every time that Zelda taught the first year undergrads, she was reminded as to why she loathed teaching them in the first place. Many of them avoided class, or worse, turned up stinking of cheap vodka and pot as they made their way to the back of the classroom with a heavy set of sunglasses––as if she didn’t know what a hungover teenager looked like. Please.

If she was going to teach, she wanted her class to be engaged. She especially preferred to have her students respond to the questions she asked rather than staring blankly back at her. Her third year students were used to her way of teaching, having completed her second year subjects, so they knew how to conduct themselves in her classroom, reminding Zelda of why she continued to teach, despite how much of a headache it gave her.  

But the first years.

Zelda drew herself taught in her chair, hands curling into fists. Never again, she vowed, knowing that Faustus would somehow manage to convince her to take up the classes again next year, threatening to cut her course entirely because there was no one else available.

Well, there was Shirley. But Shirley usually taught religion and whenever her grubby hands taught the first years, Zelda was left trying to un-teach them everything they learnt. 

Educating the first years herself was just the lesser of two evils, in a way.

She needed a drink. 

No, she didn’t. What she wanted was a cigarette, but she’d have to leave her office for that and currently she was on open hours for any student to come meandering through her doors to beg for extra credit because they realised they were failing her course. 

She looked to the clock that hung on the wall and felt the itch grow under her skin. Fuck it. She needed a smoke and there was only fifteen minutes left of her office hours.

Opening her drawer, she went to pull out her cigarette case, when she stopped at the sight of the red business card. 

Lilith.

She swallowed, picking up the card.

What she needed was relief. It didn’t have to be sex, it just needed to be…something. Intimacy with another human being.

Last night she’d drained the batteries of her favoured vibrator and despite rolling through three orgasms, there was still an arousal pricking under her skin.

Before she could even come to terms with what she was doing, she’d always picked up her phone and typed in the number. If it was a student, she’d be able to cancel the line immediately––and given that her office line was private, they wouldn’t be able to call her back.

The phone line rang and suddenly an anxiety built. Was this really a good idea? To engage in the services of a dominatrix? Wouldn’t it be better to drive up to the city and just pick up some––

“Good Afternoon, how can I be of service?”

Zelda paused, feeling her mouth become dry. The voice was new, unrecognisable from anyone she recalled teaching. Or knowing at all, for that matter. 

“Hello?” the woman said, an annoyance frosting over the words.

“I––“ she paused, biting her lip. “Found your business card.”

“Oh? And which business card is this?”

Zelda paused. Which business card? She supposed that although they were a twin-town, neither Riverdale nor Greendale probably held the population to frequent the services of a dominatrix. Likely the woman had a second job that paid the bills, like a graphic designer perhaps, or… 

“The red card.”

“Mm. Remind me again of what the exact service of that is?” the woman asked, her voice a purr as she laughed into the receiver.  

Zelda shivered, her eyes flicking to the door of her office, ensuring it was closed. “You know perfectly well.”

“I do, but I need to hear you say it.”

“And why do you need that?”

“If you really want the service, you need to be able to say the word.” There was logic to it and yet Zelda tugged at her skirt, adjusting herself in the chair. “Come on, use your big girl words and I promise to stop teasing.”

Zelda swallowed, shutting her eyes. “Dominatrix,” she said, lowering her voice in case any student was out wondering the hall. 

Panic filled her once the word was spoken. She shouldn’t have done this. She should have done it in her car, or at home, or not at all. What did she need a dominatrix for? She should have just picked up new batteries, instead of even thinking about dialling this number. What if it was a student, or worse, a––

“Well you’ve called the right woman. I have an opening for tomorrow evening. Say…six o’clock?”

“Six?”

“And do be on time. I don’t approve of tardiness.”

Zelda rolled her eyes. She’d never been late in her life. “I’ll be on time,” she scoffed. 

“Good girl. Now, I’ll just need a name for the booking.”

“…a name?” Of course she did. A hundred names filled her head, and yet the consequences of using any of them seemed to fill her with dread. 

“Just a first name. You don’t need to worry, I promise absolute discretion.”

“Zelda,” she answered, feeling her heart beat fast. Perhaps she should have chosen a pseudonym. 

“Zelda,” the woman echoed, drawing out her name on the tongue. “Do you know the address?”

“No, I do not.”

The woman, presumably Lilith, provided the address and a confirmation of the pricing for a forty-five minute session. “But given that this is your first session with me, expect that it will go for about an hour so we can run through some housekeeping.”

“And what sort of housekeeping should I expect?”

“Just a few ground rules so this is enjoyable for us both. The only one I advise before hand is that I don’t allow my customers to be intoxicated before arrival. It tends to dull things and I need you wide-awake.”

“That’s the only rule?”

“Well, I expect you to be showered before you arrived, but I assumed that was common curtsey. I do have facilities, however. In case you need to clean-up before you leave.”

Zelda felt her thighs press tighter together as her tongue pressing against the back of her teeth. They were barely discussing it and already she felt anticipation growing inside of her. “Wonderful,” she said, because a response was needed and she didn’t want the woman to know the effect she had on her already.

And yet, the woman made a humming noise, as if she was amused. “Well, I need to run off, but I look forward to meeting you tomorrow, Zelda. I can’t wait to play with you.” The receiver clicked off and Zelda looked down at the phone. 

It was booked. She was booked for tomorrow. 

What the fuck was she going to do?

The answer was agonise over her choice of clothes. Should she wear something formal or informal? Should she…dress up in leather and lace? Did it even matter what her choice of attire was, so as long as her lingerie was acceptable? Did that even matter? Zelda had never engaged in any sex work. She’d been to informally organised orgies, and attended a few sex parties, but this was different, and…it was exciting, if she was being honest. It’d been a long time since she’d felt butterflies fill her stomach. 

All of Saturday morning, she found herself looking to the clock on the wall, checking the time and watching it tick from eight in the morning, to nine, to ten…and so on as she finished the last of her paperwork for the weekend and found herself preparing to leave by five. 

“A rather late meeting,” Hilda said as Zelda drew her coat over her shoulders. “You know, if it is a date, you can tell me.”

“It’s certainly not a date,” Zelda said, ensuring that line was firm. The last thing she needed was her sister’s curiosity piqued. “I’ll be home sometime after seven.”

“Alright, well, shall I have dinner set for seven thirty then?”

“If you wish.” She gave her an appearance a last check before taking her handbag from the table. All she needed was her phone, wallet and her make-up so she could fix it up before her return to the home (and to cover any marks the woman made). “But don’t hold up for me.”

She passed Sabrina in the foyer and paused, watching as niece’s expression shifted to something neutral. “You’re going out?” Sabrina asked.

“A meeting regarding some funding, I’m afraid. I’ll be home for dinner.”

Sabrina gave a short nod, her fingers tapping at her sides as she swayed from side-to-side, seeming to hold onto a thought. 

“Was there something else?” she asked, feeling a familiar tightness grow. She loathed when Sabrina danced around a topic. 

“Roz and Theo are having a sleepover tomorrow. Could I stay over? Mr Walker will take us to school the next day.”

Zelda’s lips pursed, suspecting that this was likely her niece trying to dance around the fact that she was going to wander off and see Mr Kinkle. And yet, did she actually care? Zelda, herself, had snuck out at the age of sixteen. At least Sabrina wasn’t climbing out of the bedroom window and crawling down the old willow tree. “If you have your homework done by then.”

Sabrina beamed, nodding. “I will,” she agreed. “Thank you.”

Zelda waived a hand dismissively. A part of her considered gently reminding her niece to take protection, before she decided against it. Zelda had purchased a set of condoms for Sabrina once she’d begun dating Mr Kinkle (much to Sabrina’s embarrassment) and had revisited the sex talk, ensuring Sabrina understood consent and equality in sex. The last thing she ever wanted her niece to go through was shame or a selfish partner.

Sabrina knew that she could come forward if need-be. But more importantly, she had a clever head on her shoulders. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Enjoy your meeting,” Sabrina said, before wandering away, a skip in her step.

 Zelda exited the house, going to where her car was and climbing in. She sat in driver’s seat, taking a minute to consider her own wants. There was a flutter in her stomach as she buckled her seat belt and placed the car into drive, driving down the gravel road of the land, down to the main road. 

The address that Lilith provided her lead to the warehouse district. There was a brief concern as she pulled up her car on the empty road that she was being conned in someway. Only a lone truck passed her, seeming to make its way through the town to the highway. But at the same time, she doubted it’d be a viable business––far easier to just rob someone at the ATM.

She looked into the rear view mirror, fixing her hair before she stepped out, taking her handbag with her. 

The building was a small brick building, two stories high with ivy climbing its walls. It was nestled in between what appeared to be a garage and a mattress repair store, both of which appeared to be closed. Thank God. 

The lights were on upstairs of the building, and Zelda could see movement in the upper window, like someone was walking around in the room (though a curtain blocked any clear view of who they were).

She was fifteen minutes early, which really meant she was right on time as she locked the car and walked up to the front step. A hesitation pulled at her as she was sharply reminded of what she was doing. Earlier today she’d pulled out a week’s groceries worth of cash, and now she was on the top step of the woman’s business, anticipating prickling down her spine.

She stepped forward and rang the doorbell before she could stop herself. 

A light flickered on the lower level, shadows flickering through the opaque glass, and then the door was being opened.

The woman’s eyes drew over her, a smile breaking out over her red lips. “Oh, aren’t you just divine.” 

Zelda drew in a breath, taking in the woman. She was more than she had dared to expect. When she’d thought of a dominatrix, she’d fantasied about a great many women from movies, before settling on the fantasy of a plain woman wearing red lipstick, and while the woman was definitely wearing red lipstick, she was by no definition plain. If anything, Zelda felt a visceral reaction as she gazed upon her.

She had assumed that Lilith would be dressed in pvc or a great array of leather. Instead the woman wore a burgundy blouse, and a pencil skirt. Her hair was out, drawing down her back, and the longer she stared at her, the more intense of an urge Zelda had to draw her fingers through it as she was pressed against the door frame. 

Lilith’s eyes sparkled as she let out a short laugh, as if knowing where her thoughts were sinking to. “Usually I’d make some snide comment about where my eyes were, but I like you.”

Zelda straightened up, trying to mask her embarrassment as she reached into her handbag.  “Lilith, I take it?” she asked, pulling out the card. “I found this in a book.”

Lilith’s grin only widened and Zelda had the sudden feeling of being a mouse in the sights of a cat as the woman’s fingers came out and plucked the business card from her hand. “I had a feeling someone special would find this. Well…come inside,” she said, pushing the door open wider before gesturing for Zelda to enter. “I’ll give you a tour.”

Zelda stepped inside, her heels clicking over the hardwood floor as the door was closed behind (but not locked, she noted). Lilith led her away from the stairs, down a hall to begin with. The walls contained modern artwork, scrawled with unfamiliar artist names in their corners. “We have the kitchen,” Lilith begun. Zelda tore her eyes away from the art to listen attentively. “After a session, I like to set you here with a cup of tea until I’m certain you’re safe to drive home. Then there’s the garden if you would like to do any outdoor sessions,” she said before flicking the outdoor light on. 

Soft lights flickered on, enough to show a small, well-maintained garden with high brick walls to prevent any nosy neighbour from overlooking. There was a tall, old tree in one corner that hung its branches over the grassed section. If Zelda didn’t know exactly what this place was, she would have been impressed over the garden’s selection of flowers.

“There’s an outdoor shower too,” Lilith said, pointing to the side of the house. 

Zelda looked around, nodding shortly, uncertain if she should say that she wasn’t comfortable in an outdoor setting. But before she could even open her mouth, Lilith had flicked off the lights and was raising her eyes brows playfully at her. “Follow me,” she said, before leading her back down the hall, up the narrow stairs. 

At the top of the stairs, the woman paused and looked over her shoulder. “Now, I ask all phones be switched off before we begin.”

“Of course,” Zelda agreed, pausing to pull out her phone in her handbag and ensuring it was switched off.

“While I don’t mind a photo sessions, I do request that they’re negotiated before hand,” Lilith said, as she continued to lead her up to the higher levels. 

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

Lilith ignored her comment, instead showing her where the bathroom was (a grey towel already laid out), before leading her to the bedroom. 

As the door was opened, Zelda felt her stomach tighten, and then unknot as she looked around at the expanse of the room.

She wasn’t sure exactly what she had expected (maybe something more dungeon like with shades of black and red) but the bedroom was warm. Almost straight out of a furniture catalogue nice, but with a bit of home comfort to it. It had ambient light, a queen sized four-poster bed, and more modern artwork on the wall. There was a dresser under the window (with which the curtains were closed), and a floor length mirror to one corner. 

There was even a sheepskin laid out on the floor.

If it wasn’t for the hook hanging from the ceiling, and the fact that the wardrobe to the other side of the room was partially open, showing an array of kink tools, she would have thought that this was the woman’s actual home.

“How does this work?” Zelda enquired. “Forgive me for being candid, but this is the first time in engaging in any such services of…this profession.”

“No need to ask forgiveness so soon,” Lilith said, moving to take a casual step closer. “To begin, we’ll negotiate what you want versus what I’m comfortable with doing, I’ll confirm a few safety things with yourself and then we’ll begin.” 

Simple enough.

“Do you know what you want?”

Zelda paused, her eyes drawing away from the woman’s face to look over the room. This was not the time to be coy, and despite a hesitation in her, wanting to play demure, she swallowed it back. “Submission, mostly. I like bondage and…” she thought of the riding crop she’d seen, hanging from the wardrobe. “Being struck…consensually.”

“Impact play,” Lilith said, showing her teeth in the wide grin she bore. “Barehanded or with a tool?” 

Zelda swallowed at the words, feeling her nerves alight as she watched Lilith made another step closer to her. She was barely a yard away now and Zelda couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be thrown over her lap. “I have a selection of devices that we can play with. Given that you’re the client, it’s entirely up to you in how we do this.” 

“I don’t mind,” Zelda said, feeling the words stick in her throat. She wasn’t sure how she wanted to ask, but the idea of laying things out seemed…too clinical.

“Did you want me to lead you in a scene, so you’re not quite sure what would occur?”

Zelda nodded, feeling the heat crawl up her chest. “That would be satisfactory.”

“Satisfactory,” the woman teased, and now she was walking around her in a circle, close enough that Zelda could reach out and touch her if she so desired it. “I’ll demand the utmost obedience if you want submission. Are you prepared to obey?”

A shiver ran down her spine, and Zelda drew herself up taller as the woman came to stand before her again, a foot away. She could kiss her. “If you’re as good as you seemed to think you are.”

Lilith’s laughed. “I think we’re both going to enjoy this.” She drew in a breath and paused, running her eyes down Zelda’s body, seeming to inspect certain sections before drawing her eyes back up to hers. “If we’re to do some domination with impact play, is there any thing specifically off limits?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I keep to all the lovely fleshy areas, away from anything that might do any serious damage. But…there are a few areas that fit that description that some people aren’t comfortable with.”

Zelda swallowed, realising what she meant. Her voice was hoarse when she responded, “I don’t mind.”

Lilith smiled. “This is very new for you, isn’t it?”

Hissing in a breath, Zelda folded her arms, “I’ve engaged in plenty of things during my time. I’m hardly some twenty-year-old virgin looking to get their cherry popped.”

“Oh, I’m sure you have. I’m sure you’ve played with spanking and handcuffs and thought they were delightful. It’s where we all begin,” she smiled at Zelda in a way that seemed to strip Zelda bare of any retort. “How about I show you a standard play and at any time you find your self uncomfortable or even if you stop enjoying yourself, we’ll stop?”

“That sounds reasonable.”

“Good. Not that’s out of the way, before we begin, I need to run through a few things with you.”

“Housekeeping?” Zelda asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Ah, so you do listen, that’ll make things easier. I’ll be direct then, I don’t engage in sex in the first session, no matter how…lovely the client is,” Lilith’s seemed to pause, drinking her in as she bit her lip. “I’ll need you to get tested first.”

“Tested? I assure you––“

“Assurances are all well and good, but I don’t know you and you don’t know me. We don’t have to engage in sex if you don’t wish to disclose that, but those are my rules if you do.”

“And how will I know about your history?” 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Lilith said, giving a sharp smile. 

Zelda bit her tongue and nodded. She didn’t even know if she did want to engage in sex, or even if she would do a repeat session, so it wasn’t worth discussing any further than that.

“Now, is there anything I should know? Any triggers or fears that I should be mindful of?”

“No,” Zelda said with as much honesty as she could manage. There was nothing she could think of worth bringing up that would come into play. 

“Do you know your limits?”

“I do.”

Lilith tilted her head as she crossed her arms underneath her chest. The way her eyes narrowed, Zelda had the feeling that she was reading into the phrasing before she gave a short nod. “And what’s your safe word?”

Zelda frowned. “Stop isn’t sufficient?”

“No. And don’t choose mercy either, I quite enjoy begging and you’ll enjoy doing it on your knees.”

Zelda hissed in a breath at the words, blinking at the woman. Begging? She hadn’t begged for a single thing in her life. 

Lilith grinned at her, and despite how utterly frustrating the woman’s cockiness was, Zelda couldn’t help but feel arousal tightening low in her belly, making her all the more aware of the lace she wore underneath her garter belt.  

“I recommend a word that’s two to three syllables long that you can say through a gag––so probably avoid your plosives and fricative constants. And you might want to look at something that’s jarring if said in the context of any role-play you may be inclined to engage in.” 

Zelda looked around the room, and then unsatisfied with anything she saw, racked her own brain for an idea. “Fine, what about music box?”

“Suitable choice.” Lilith said, and then expression softened. She stepped forward, asking, “Now, final question, what are you hoping to get out of this?”

Zelda’s mouth parted, but whatever lie she had prepared didn’t come out, instead she found herself looking into the depths of Lilith’s blue eyes, and responding honestly. “To let go.” It was a vague answer, but Lilith nodded as if she understood completely.

“I’ll need you to remain honest with me about your current state. Any time you feel unwell or you stop enjoying the scene, you need to let me know.”

Lilith stepped away from her and walked over to a dresser, she bent forward casually, as if it wasn’t a performance (though Zelda wasn’t fooled) and opened one of the lower drawers. 

Zelda watched as she picked up what looked to be a length of rope and a blindfold, before closing the drawer. She then stood up and walked over to the wardrobe, opening it up wide for Zelda’s view.

Her hands drew over different items, fingering tools and toys individually before she seemed to pause over the riding crop, Zelda stood up taller, and then watched as her fingers passed it. Sighing, she looked away, trying to not be overly concerned. This was a woman well versed in her own play, she needed to trust her.

The doors shut, the items were placed on the bed and then Lilith was walking over to her, and Zelda noticed with distinct pleasure, she had a riding crop in grip. “Do you have any questions or concerns before we begin?” she asked.

“You will be discreet. This won’t come back on me?”

“So as long as you assure the same thing, I swear to you that I will never speak a word of what happens between us to another soul.” 

“Good, because I have excellent lawyers.”

Lilith laughed, “As do I. Now that those needless threats are out of the way,” she said as she stepped back, drawing her eyes over Zelda again. And then the visage changed and the woman seemed to grow taller in her heels. She turned and lifted up the lid of the ottoman bench, showing the empty storage. “You can place your bag, jacket and your dress in here.”

“My dress?”

Lilith stared at her, as if waiting for Zelda to say something further. Perhaps protest.

Zelda drew a breath and stepped forward, placing her bag onto one side of it, before removing her coat and setting that in the ottoman, too. Then it was just completing her last request.

Lilith stepped closer as she hesitated, standing behind her to reach up and draw Zelda’s hair over her shoulder, before she unclasped the top of the dress and then slowly drew the zipper down so Zelda could feel the material part, cool air brushing over her skin.

The dress was tugged down her arms, down her waist and hips, and then she was stepping out of it, thankful for the comfort of the slip. 

“You can keep your heels on.”

Zelda bent, picking up the material before placing it into the ottoman. She stood up tall again, watching as Lilith closed the ottoman lid. 

Now what? She wanted to ask as her eyes flicked to the items on the bed. 

Lilith moved, setting herself on the side of mattress, next to the items, before she crossed her legs. “Stand here,” she directed before her.

Zelda moved, standing before. So far, it seemed to be a game of patience and although they were getting closer and closer, she felt an anticipation rise in her, wishing the woman would just get to it. 

“On your knees,” she said, not unlike a school teaching asking the class to sit down in their seats. 

Zelda swallowed, and bent down, adjusting to kneel before her. Her hands clenched at her sides, and then stretched out. Lilith stared at her blankly, her eyes staring deep into her own. “And now?” Zelda asked.

“And now, until I say otherwise, you may only speak when spoken to. You are my servant and I am your Queen. You will obey implicitly,” she paused then, cocking her brow as if to dare Zelda to say otherwise. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, my queen,” she corrected.

“Yes, my queen,” Zelda affirmed. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the words, and yet my queen sounded easier on the tongue than mistress. 

“Hands forward.”

Zelda obeyed, setting them out before her, palm facing forward. Lilith adjusted them, turning them so her wrists faced each other, a few inches apart as she took the length of rope and began coiling over one forearm. 

And then like a parlour trick, she was knotting and twisting the rope, and before Zelda could think about squirming away, both of her wrists bound before her in an elegant design. In all honesty, Zelda was impressed, watching as Lilith’s fingers slid between the bindings of rope, ensuring their comfort and tightness against the skin. 

“Does it pinch?” she asked.

“No, my queen,” Zelda answered as she dropped her bound wrists down. 

The riding crop hit her bare shoulder, a sharp smack ringing over skin. Zelda’s face looked up at the woman––both with surprise in how fast she’d managed to grab the crop, and in confusion as to what the hit had been for.

“Did I tell you that you could drop your hands?”

“No,” she said, lifting her hands again.

The crop hit her again, this time on the other shoulder and Zelda hissed in a breath, feeling the pleasure of the pain rush across her nerves. 

“Do you know what you did wrong that time?”

Zelda blinked, in all honestly, she was still reeling from the hit. Swallowing, she found herself hoarsely whispering, “no.”

She watched as the riding crop was placed down on the bed and Lilith’s hand drew up, touching over where the mark was on her shoulder. The sensory shivered across her skin, and without intending to, she found herself leaning into the touch. “When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer ‘yes, my queen’ or ‘no, my queen’, every time, without hesitation or question. Can you do that for me?”

There was such condescension in the words, that Zelda gritted her teeth.“Yes,” watching as Lilith’s eyebrow arched as she reached for the crop. “My queen,” Zelda added, though she looked to the crop, watching as Lilith hand fingered over the leather handle, as if considering striking her for the insolence. 

But the hand pulled away and Lilith’s expression pulled into a smile. “Good girl,” she purred. Reaching beside her, she took the blindfold. Zelda shut her eyes, feeling the leather placed on and done-up on the back of her head. There was movement, seeming to be Lilith standing up and moving around her, and then she felt fingers in her hair, combing through it. 

Lilith’s hands settled on her shoulders and Zelda waited, feeling her hands grow tired at holding them in position. 

There was a warmth that tickled her ear and Zelda felt her chest in-take with a small gasp as the woman spoke in low whisper into her ear, “Move forward until you feel the bed press against you here.” Her fingers drew over Zelda’s body, touching under her ribs.

Drawing in a breath, Zelda felt the hands hold over her firmly before slipping away. Taking that as the direction, Zelda moved slowly on her knees, and then felt her hands touch over the mattress. She shuffled further and when the frame pressed against her stomach, she stopped. Nothing followed. No order, no words and she found herself slowly drawing a breath, anticipating the riding crop to hit her.

Behind her, there was the sound of a drawer opening (the dresser?) and then it slid back. Lilith had rummaged for something and whatever it was, Zelda felt heartbeat go quick. Was it another tool, a cane? Or perhaps a gag to keep her quiet?

“Look at you, keeping perfectly still,” Lilith said as she seemed to settle behind her, fingers drawing over her shoulders, nails bluntly running down her forearms as she pressed against her back. “So obedient.” 

Zelda bristled at the comment, and yet as her jaw clenched she found herself holding back from saying anything. 

“I can’t wait to watch you come undone,” Lilith said, before standing up, drawing Zelda’s arms up, above her head. She could feel the woman set her heels on either side of her calves, her skirt brushing against the back of her head as she seemed fiddle high above her with the bed frame. 

Zelda could hear the noise of fibres zipping against something, and then the feeling of the rope bindings being fiddled with, a vibration running through it, before it was tugged, hoisting her arms a little higher until they were stretched above her head, causing her to sit up tall. And then Lilith’s hand were drawing down her forearms again, checking the restraints.

Her fingers were warm against the coolness of the air, nails blunt as they slid under the rope. It was strangely intimate, in a way that had Zelda feeling all the more aware of her state of undress.

“Do you remember your safe word?” Lilith asked as she once again began drawing her fingers through her hair, seeming to brush them over her shoulder and off from her back. It was gentle and soothing, but it had Zelda wanting to press harder against the nails. 

“Yes, my queen,” she said, feeling a flutter low in her belly. 

“And, what’s your safe word?”

“Music box…my queen,” she said.

Lilith stepped away, and then there was nothing. A quiet pressed over her again and Zelda could feel how high her chest rose and fell, the way her heart was pounding loud in her ears as she stretched her fingers in the restraints.

And then something cold touched her back, sliding from the bare skin, down, over the slip before sliding down her back. She shivered at the touch, feeling it drag against the length of her spine before it lifted away. 

That was her warning. 

The crop snapped against her shoulder blade. Zelda gasped, arching against it. The pain rippled over her flesh, and yet Zelda felt the endorphins flood her bloodstream. A second snap came, and then a third just as quick on the other shoulder and Zelda’s mouth parted, a sigh pulling from her. 

Fingers brushed over her shoulders, running over where the crop had struck her. She could smell the perfume sweep over her senses as Lilith stepped behind her, the crop dragging low against her backside. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Zelda bit her lip, nodding. 

A short thwack against her ass had Zelda jolting in the restraints, a wetness pressing between her thighs. 

“I expect you to use your words.”

“Yes.”

Another thwack against the other cheek, harder this time and Zelda was biting her bottom lip, trying to suppress the moan. 

“Yes, my queen.”

“Good girl.”

There was a quiet again, an anticipation in the darkness of the blindfold as she felt Lilith walk around. Floorboards creaked beneath her knees and Zelda’s arms strained in the restrained, a soreness pulling at her shoulders as she squeezed her muscles, feeling the rope draw against them.

She ached and yet every strike stung with fresh relief. She wanted it. The creeping hesitation. The uncertainty of the strike. The moment with the brief touch, drawing against her skin to both soothe and tease before the next strike came, hard and fast. 

And then the excitement turned to relief and Zelda felt her emotions bristle. It was like the very brick walls she built herself had turned to glass and the strikes were causing them to crack.

She didn’t know how much time had passed. But one strike hit her high across the shoulder blades and it wasn’t a gasp but a sob that broke through.

And then Lilith was there, her body pressed against her, arms around her. “Are you ready to stop?” she asked.

And Zelda nodded, clamping her jaw shut because she couldn’t cry. She didn’t know why she wanted to cry, but the words weren’t coming out and she knew she needed to say those fucking words, but if she did she was going to sob and she couldn’t sob and––

Lilith’s hand pressed firm under her chest, splaying over her ribs as she felt her tug at something, and then Zelda’s arms dropped and she was sagging back against Lilith, drawing in a tight breath as her lungs seems to constrict. 

“Lift your arms,” Lilith said, her voice soft and soothing and Zelda lifted her arms and felt the ropes untangle. The blind fold was removed and they were all dropped away beside her, her arms falling at her sides, and still she felt Lilith’s hand splay over her chest, holding her steady against her.

She breathed, once, twice––pressing her tongue against the roof of her mouth until her breath evened and the need to cry ebbed away.

“I’m fine,” Zelda said, and felt herself tremble, the words tightening in her throat.

“You are,” Lilith agreed before bowing her head, pressing her lips against her shoulder. 

Zelda squeezed her eyes shut, willing the prickling in her eyes to cease as she drew in one more breath, then another and then…the hand eased, dropping away and she felt Lilith move away.

Opening her eyes, Zelda blinked away the blur, watching the room sharpen. 

A hand came into her vision and Zelda looked at it before realising that Lilith was offering to help her stand.

Taking the hand, she pushed up onto her heels, standing awkwardly for a moment as she felt the world sway. But Lilith’s hand tightened on hers, as her arm came around and held around her waist. 

A part of Zelda wanted to crumble against her. Collapse from the exertion of it all, but she didn’t. She took another breath and then steeled herself, straightening her back, shoulders back. 

“You don’t need to do that,” Lilith advised, one hand steady on her waist, the other still holding her hand, thumb sliding over her knuckles. “You’re allowed to let go.”

“I’m fine.”

“You are,” she agreed, “but you’re also allowed to take a moment. There’s no one else here.”

Zelda swallowed, feeling the painful prick in her eyes before she looked away. “I should get dressed.”

Lilith drew in a breath and smiled softly as Zelda pulled her hand from hers. Her knuckles felt alight, as if she’d somehow gently awoke every nerve ending there. 

“Before you do, I just need to check over the marks.”

Zelda nodded and allowed herself to be turned around. The woman’s fingers were gentle as they touch over her back, examining the upper area of her shoulders, before she drew the hem of slip up, looking over the marks oh her hips and thighs. Her touch was soft and Zelda found herself wobbling on her heels, her muscles twitching as the woman touched over the welts.

“They’ll be down by morning,” Lilith said, adjusting the slip over her. “I can put cream on it.”

Zelda cleared her throat, knowing that if the woman so much as stroked a thumb over her cheekbone, she was going to burst into tears again. “No, thank you,” she said firmly. “I can manage that myself at home.”

“As you wish. I’m going to make a drink. I have tea and coffee, or a soda if you wanted something else?”

“Tea’s fine,” Zelda said, her voice thick with emotions. She cleared her throat, blinking as she felt the tightness in her chest grow and ease. Lilith’s fingers burned where they rested on her hips.

“I’ll zip up your dress when you’re ready.”

“Thank you.” 

Lilith stepped away and Zelda heard the sound of the door clicking shut. Carefully, Zelda dressed, doing up half of the zipper before giving up with how her arms shook. 

In the mirror she could see her face was flushed with red. Her hair was mussed, but not so much that a quick comb through with her fingers couldn’t fix it. Pulling out her make-up, she touched up her lipstick, fixing her eye make-up enough that she didn’t appear as though she’d been crying. 

Taking her hand bag and throwing her coat over it, she stepped out of the bedroom and shut the door behind her.

Downstairs, she could heard the sound of water being poured into tea cups. For a moment, Zelda considered leaving, entirely embarrassed by what had occurred.

Except…she hadn’t paid and didn’t desire to have the woman chase after her for that.

Mustering up as much pride as she could, she stepped into the kitchen and watched as Lilith set down the milk and sugar in the centre of the table before smiling up at her. “Do you need help?” she enquired, pointing to her dress.

“If you don’t mind.”

Lilith walked over and brushed Zelda’s hair over one-shoulder, as she had before, before zipping it  up. Her fingers smoothed down the back of the dress, brushing over the shoulders before fixed her hair again. “I wasn’t sure how you liked your tea,” Lilith said, before somehow managing to guide her into a chair and sit her down before Zelda could protest. “Tea, there’s almond fingers there too.”

And then Lilith was bustling behind her, fixing everything back into its rightful space as Zelda placed two cubes of sugar in her tea and watched it dissolve in the water as she stirred it.

She didn’t feel like crying any more, but if she was honest, there was a heaviness to her. Like she could sleep. She hadn’t felt this tired since…back when she’d been doing her doctorate.

“How do you feel?” Lilith asked as she sat down on the chair opposite her, taking her own cup of tea (though Zelda noticed she left it black without sugar). “And don’t say fine.”

“Exhausted,” Zelda responded honestly.

“That’s to be expected, you took quite the beating,” Lilith nodded. “More importantly though, did you find the relief that you were after?”

Zelda’s mouth parted. A part of her wanted to argue that she did not. The idea of crying in front of a stranger––despite the intimacy of situation––soured whatever relief she took from it. But it wasn’t true.

All the frustration she’d been feeling over the week was gone. Her shoulders felt lighter, her back was sore, but it didn’t feel overexerted. In truth, she felt good. “I did,” she answered.

Lilith smiled. “I’m very good.”

“And arrogant.”

“Comes with the territory,” she teased. 

Zelda brought the cup to her mouth, trying to disguise the smile she felt growing. 

The tea was decent, soothing as she sipped at it before setting it back on its saucer. It was a nice set, and it made Zelda all the more aware how much money had been poured into the apartment, giving it an elegance that differed so far away from the dungeon-like fantasy.

It suited her, and yet she couldn’t help but wonder where all this money came from.

She looked up and noticed that Lilith was staring at her in interest, likely trying to read where her thoughts were––but how could ask such a thing politely? I see you have money behind you? Does being a dominatrix make a lot of money? No. She couldn’t ask such a thing.

And yet it made her all the more aware that the woman still hadn’t asked for payment. Was she meant to broach that?

“Careful. You’ll wind yourself right back up and be on my doorstep by the end of the week.”

Zelda blinked, setting her cup down. “I beg your pardon?”

Lilith grinned, looking as if she might take the bait inadvertently left in the statement, but decided against it. “You’re overthinking something, I can see you stiffening to get to whatever thought you have––likely unspoken due to some…social propriety. Whatever it is, just say it.”

Zelda felt a frustration roll inside of her, disliking how the woman seemed to read her like an open book. “I was thinking about how payment worked.”

“Cash or card,” Lilith shrugged. “If you use card, it’ll pop up as a clothing boutique on your statement.”

“Do you run a clothes store?”

“Mm, story for another time,” she said, setting her cup down. “Now, cash or card?”

Zelda pulled out her wallet, drawing the dollar bills she’d picked up that morning. “Cash,” she advised. 

Lilith smiled and took the money. Zelda half expected her to count it front of her, but instead, she set it on her table and rose, opening up a cupboard where she pulled out an invoice book and a pen. 

She scribbled on the page, and then ripped it off, handing it back. “You take me as the type of woman who likes to keep her books in order,” she said. “On the very bottom, it has my website. If you go to services offered…you can explore what other interests you might have. If it’s not on the list, we can negotiate the next time you visit.”

Zelda took it tentatively and blinked at the invoice. All it advised was for services rendered in one column, with an amount of time, and then the tax and subtotal on the very bottom. It was all very…professional and Zelda found herself looking up at Lilith with a strange fascination. 

Was this a business, or was it as much as a leisure pursuit for Lilith as it was for her clients.

“And just why do you think there’ll be a next time?” she asked with as much indignantly as she could manage. 

Lilith leant back in her a chair, a knowing smirk on her lips. “Because you’re going to go home and shower and touch over the marks as you think of me.”

Zelda blanched at the comment, “Excuse me?”

“And then you’ll wait a few days for self control but a part of you is going to dig up that invoice and type the website into the search bar of your computer and scroll through all the services I offer until something just clicks, and then I’ll have the delight of your voice on my phone again.”

“I certainly will not.”

Lilith shrugged. “Suit your self, but do check out the services page first. I’m sure you’ll find a few things that will pique your interest.”

Zelda felt a humiliation burn through her cheeks as she stared at the woman. A part of her wanted to rise and storm off, or snap back at the woman, but she didn’t. She was locked to her seat, the fury building in her––but more importantly, she felt excited. 

Excited in a way she couldn’t remember feeling since she was a twenty-something year old, getting up to no-good mischief because she could. Because it made her feel––

Ah, she realised suddenly

That was it.

She felt alive.

[thehelleniclunarwitch]

Dark Desire [Chapter Four]

Billy Hargrove x Reader x Steve Harrington

Warning: Language

This is 16.5 pages long. Forgive me. 

Tagged: @justgrits​  @fandomfaery​  @billysgodcomplex​  @asheseiler​  @charmed-asylum​

Ch. 01  Ch. 02  Ch. 03

                                   xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Can we go to lunch afterward?” El asked. 

“Sure, where do you want to go?” You asked as the two of you walked down the street towards the police station. 

“I’m craving waffles,” El grinned. 

“Of course, you are,” You laughed pulling open the door. 

The two of you entered the police station. El followed behind you as you headed over to Callahan’s desk. 

“Alright, jerkwad, give me my car back,” You said. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Y/n. El,” Callahan said. 

“Jerkwad,” El echoed her aunt. 

You smirked at your niece. El beamed up at you. It was scary how much she was like you. Callahan cleared his throat drawing your attention back to him. 

“Well, before I can just hand over the keys, I need to have you fill out some paperwork,” Callahan said handing over the clipboard. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” You groaned. 

“Rules are rules, Y/n, just because the Chief is your brother doesn’t mean you can get out of it,” Callahan said. 

You yanked the clipboard out of his hand. El followed you as you headed over to the counter. The two of you leaned against it as you started to go through the pages attached to the clipboard. 

“You know he isn’t looking, I could just swipe the keys,” El offered. 

You laughed. “Now, that would be a very exciting start to our day, but my brother is already mad enough at me,” 

El sighed. 

Outside, Billy was driving downtown. Max was in the backseat oblivious to the world around her while jammed out to her phone. Steve sat in the front seat staring out the window. Billy noted the way he perked up in the seat. 

“You okay?” Billy asked. 

“That’s Y/n’s car,” Steve said. 

Billy didn’t even think twice. He yanked the wheel cutting off a car so he could pull up to the curb behind Y/n’s car. Steve whipped around to look at him. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asked. 

“I’d like to meet this Y/n of yours,” Billy grinned. 

“At the police station?” Steve pointed out. 

Billy winked. “What better place?”

Steve groaned as Billy climbed out of the car. He looked back at Max her eyes were wide with confusion. Steve and Max acted quickly, climbing out of the car and dashing after Billy as he sauntered towards the front of the station. 

“Give me my keys,” You growled. 

“Just a few more things,” Callahan said. 

You reached across the desk and grabbed Callahan by his tie. You yanked him forward until the two of you were nose to nose. 

“Stop stringing me along, Callahan before I turn this whole precinct upside down and end up giving your badge to El to use for Halloween,” You snarled. 

“God, you and your brother spookily too much alike,” Callahan sighed as he held out your keys. 

“Thanks,” You grinned plucking the keys from him. 

Letting go of Callahan you stood. Callahan stood as well to walk the two of you out to the main lobby. 

“Just listen to your brother and these things wouldn’t happen,” Callahan said. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Maybe my brother needs to mind his own business,”

“You know he’s just looking out for you,” Callahan said. 

“Do you ever struggle to breathe?” You asked him. 

“What do you mean?” Callahan replied. 

“Well, with you being so far up my brother’s ass I thought maybe it was hard to breathe,” You shot back. 

There was a sudden burst of laughter. The three of you looked over to the doorway. Your face softened at the sight of Steve standing there. He was standing with a dark blonde haired guy and a girl around El’s age with flaming red hair. 

“Steve?” You said in confusion. 

“Hey, Y/n, we saw your car outside. I just wanted to make sure you were getting your car back,” Steve said. 

You and El tossed Callahan a look. 

“Callahan was just walking us out,” You said. 

Callahan looked nervously between all of you. 

“Steve, don’t be rude, who’s your friend here?” The blonde-haired guy asked. 

“You know, Y/n, I actually forgot a few things,” Callahan interrupted. 

“Take it up with Jim,” You scoffed, you turned back towards Steve and his friends. “Sorry,”

“This is my little family. My best friend Billy Hargrove and his sister Max,” Steve introduced. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Billy grinned. “Steve has talked so highly of you,”

You took his hand. He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. You couldn’t help but giggle. He moved onto El where he did the same thing. 

“Y/n,” Callahan interrupted. 

“Callahan!” Florence shouted. “Leave that poor girl alone. You have plenty of things to do to keep yourself busy,” 

You looked over your shoulder at Flo. You mouthed a thank you and she winked at you before heading back towards the bullpen. You returned your attention to Steve, Billy, and Max. 

“Billy Hargrove?” You questioned. 

Steve and Billy looked at you with wide eyes. 

“Your friend from private school?” You asked once everything started to come back to you. 

Steve and Billy released a breath they didn’t realize they were holding. 

“Yeah,” The two of them smiled together. 

“Y/n, I’m hungry,” El interrupted tugging on your sleeve. 

“Sorry, I promised monkey I’d take her out for waffles,” You said apologizing for your niece’s rudeness. 

“Well, why don’t you come with us to Millies?” Steve asked. “Since we didn’t get to go out last night it will be my treat,”

“Oh, we couldn’t intrude on your guys’ family time,” You began. 

“Yes, we can,” El said cutting you off. 

Billy and Max laughed. They sounded so much alike it was crazy. 

“See Y/n, you’re outvoted. You’re coming along with us,” Steve said. 

“Alright, we’ll meet you guys down there,” You said. 

“Great, Max let’s go,” Billy said. 

Steve stayed back and walked the two of you out to your car. He opened the passenger door for El. She smiled her thanks to him before popping in and he shut the door behind her. Steve walked around to the other side of the car with you. 

“I hope you don’t find it weird that we stopped in to see you,” Steve said. 

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “No, not at all. I’m glad I got to meet your little family. Max is darling and Billy, well, he seems to be like a charmer,” 

Steve tipped his head back and laughed. “That’s what everybody likes to say about Billy,”

You tilted your head to the side. “Do you disagree?”

“Absolutely, but in a good way,” Steve teased. 

You shot him a look. “Let’s just say you have nothing to worry about,”

“Right,” You sighed. 

Steve opened the door for you. “Don’t tuck tail and run,”

You looked up at him through your lashes. “Now why would I go and do that? You’re the one that likes to run away,”

Steve deserved that little ding. “Alright, fair play,”

Smirking, you climbed into your car. Steve shut the door for you before heading to Billy’s car. El watched you with careful eyes as you buckled. 

“Why are you staring at me?” You asked her. 

“So, this will be interesting,” El grinned. 

“This is all your fault,” You said. 

“Oh come on, this is going to be great,” El countered. 

You shot her a look before pulling away from the curb. You followed Billy’s pristine car down a few miles until you reached Millies. You parked a few spots down. You sat there for a second. El watched you carefully. 

“Y/n, it’s going to be okay,” El said. 

“Yeah, of course, I know,” You lied. 

El reached over to take your hand in hers. “I’m right here and we can leave whenever, okay?”

“Right, let’s go,” You said. 

The two of you climbed out of the car and made your way over to where the three of them were standing. The five of you entered Millies where Billy leads the group the back corner to the last table. You, El, and Max sat opposite of Steve and Billy. 

Jane, your waitress, who was also the owner of Millies walked over to the table with a smile plastered on her face. 

“Y/n. El. It’s so nice to see my two favorite girls again,” Jane grinned. 

“Hi, Jane,” You and El echoed in unison. 

“I see that you brought some guests this time,” Jane said. 

“You remember Steve Harrington?” You said. 

“Why, Steve I didn’t even recognize you,” Jane gasped. 

“Hey, Jane,” Steve smiled standing up to give the older woman a hug. 

“I didn’t know you came back home,” Jane said. 

“It’s been only about a week,” Steve replied. 

“And it took you this long to find your way back here?” Jane asked. 

Steve laughed. 

“Right, so what can I start you guys off to drink?” Jane asked. 

Billy, Steve, and Max gave Jane their order. 

“Lemonade for monkey and hot tea for Y/n,” Jane said without looking up from her pad. 

“You know it,” El said. 

“I’ll be right back,” Jane said. 

Billy’s blue eyes sparkled as he turned to look at you. “You two come here often?”

“Every Sunday for breakfast and a couple of times during the week,” El answered. 

“It’s our favorite go-to place. Steve and I used to hang out here on the weekends with our friends. Then once El came around it became our place,” You explained. 

“Do they still have the few arcade games in the back?” Steve asked. 

“Yep, including my high score on Street Fighter,” You said with a wiggle of your eyebrows. 

“You like arcade games?” Max asked in surprise. 

“Y/n loves all the games. She has a few of the high scores at the arcade place too,” El pointed out. 

“Wait, are you Queen B on Galaga, Space Invaders, Pac-Man, and Asteroids?” Max asked. 

You laughed. 

“That’s her!” El exclaimed. 

“Okay, your aunt is like a living legend in the arcade world,” Max said in disbelief. 

“You should see her collection at her place. It’s sick,” El said. 

El and Max quickly fell deep into conversation. Jane came back over to drop off their drinks and to take the rest of their orders. Max and El ordered breakfast while the adults ordered lunch. 

“So, Y/n, Steve tells me that you own your own flower shop,” Billy started. 

“I do. It sits down on Main St nuzzled between Frankie’s Bakery and Willow’s bookshop,” You told him. 

“Were you always interested in owning your own shop?” Billy asked. 

“I can answer that. I remember you always wanting to be an English professor,” Steve piped in. 

“That’s what she went to school for,” El interrupted. 

“You did?” Steve said in confusion. 

“Then why are you not a professor?” Billy asked. 

“Because my dad is a jerk,” El said slamming down her glass of lemonade. 

“Eleven!” You growled. 

“I’m just being honest,” El said under her breath. 

You shot your niece a look. “Honestly, it made more sense to stay here and work. Jim needs me around here and after El’s mom died it was easier on all of us. So I opened up my flower shop,”

Billy and Steve glanced at each other. 

“More like Y/n keeps sacrificing things for my dad and me,” El said. 

“You know Eleven, I’ve had enough of the attitude,” You snapped. 

“Well, you don’t listen to me. Or Jonathon and Nancy. So maybe you’ll listen to your good ole pal from childhood, Steve. She gives up everything for my dad and I. Y/n gave up her dream job so she could live here in Hawkins and be at my dad’s beck and call. Whenever he needs a sitter, she’s always a call away. I have my own bedroom at her place because I end up staying there more than with my dad,”

“Y/n comes over and cleans our house, does our laundry, does the majority of the grocery shopping and cooking. I love my dad, but my Auntie has to give up all of her hopes and dreams because my dad is too afraid to do stuff on his own or to ask somebody else for help,” El explained. 

“That’s enough, El,” you said. 

“Take today, for example, it was supposed to be my dad’s day off. He and I were supposed to have a daddy/daughter day together, but as you can see that he once again chose work and Y/n had to rearrange her plans so she could take care of me,” El said. 

“What El is forgetting to mention,” You interrupted your niece before she could go on a full tyrant rant about her dad. 

“Is that I chose a lot of the choices I made. I saw what the death of my sister-in-law did to him. But most of my sacrifices aren’t for my brother they are for El. I want her to have the life that I didn’t really get to have. Sometimes, giving up your dreams for your family has to happen. And if I had to make all of those choices all over again, I would,” You explained. 

“That’s the point you shouldn’t have to,” El sighed. 

“El mentioned something about giving up your dream job?” Steve asked. 

“I was offered one of the English positions at Harvard,” You answered. 

Steve’s mouth fell open. Billy elbowed him and he quickly shut his mouth. 

“Y/n, can I ask why you’ve never fought for legal custody of El and moved? You could have taken her anywhere and got a good enough job to support both of you,” Billy asked. 

“I couldn’t do that to my brother,” You lied. 

“No, she’s lying. She never thought about that because why would she put herself first?” El shot back. 

Jane came back and filled the table with the food. She could sense the negativity at the table, she asked if there was anything else that the table needed before running off. 

Billy looked down at El. “You hold a lot of anger and resentment towards your dad,”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think it’s fair that Y/n has to give up everything. She’s not even my mom,” El huffed. 

The table fell quiet. All eyes were on Y/n. You pushed away from the table. 

“I need some fresh air,” You said. 

El’s eyes widened. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that!”

You ruffled her hair, but still turned away from the table and quickly fled the diner. Steve began to stand up, but Billy put his hand on his shoulder. 

“Let me take this one,” Billy said. 

Steve nodded and sat back down. El sighed and dropped her head in her hand. 

“It’s okay, El,” Max said softly. 

“I hurt her feelings,” El grumbled. 

“I think Y/n loves you so much and wants the best for you,” Steve said. 

El looked up at her. “I didn’t really mean anything by it,” 

“I know, it will be okay,” Steve said. 

Max leaned over to pat her new friend on the back. Billy had weaved his way through the diner. Outside, he pulled his jacket a little closer as he looked around for Y/n. He found her sitting on the curb not too far from her car. Billy tucked his hands into his pockets as he made his way down to her. 

“You okay?” Billy asked. 

You didn’t even bother to look over your shoulder at him. 

“Yeah, I just needed to cool off,” You replied. 

Billy sat down beside you. 

“I get it,” Billy said. 

You finally looked over at him. “Get what?” 

“Max is my kid sister. So I get it. You’re not the biological parent, but a parent in your own right. It’s hard,” Billy said. 

“Can I ask what happened to your parents?” You asked him. 

“My dad was a drunk. A mean one. He got what he had coming to him. Max’s mom, it was a car accident,” Billy said. 

“Because of your dad?” You asked. 

Billy nodded. 

“How long have you been on your own taking care of Max?” You said. 

“Not too long after Steve and I left here,” He told you. 

“She seems like a great girl for being raised by two rough and tough men,” You pointed out. 

Billy laughed. 

“Steve and I have done our best,” Billy said. 

“Thanks for coming out here. You didn’t have to,” You told him. 

“I know, but I figured since I kind of understand what you’re going through I’d check on you,”

“So where’s your mom?” You asked. 

“Hmm,” Billy hummed. 

“Well, you said Max’s mom so I was just curious what happened to your mom?” You said. 

“Oh, she left my dad and me a long time ago,” Billy answered. 

“Oh,” You said. 

“Don’t worry, I’m over it,” Billy smiled. 

You sighed as you ran a hand through your hair. 

“Come on, we better get back in there before Steve thinks I ran off with his favorite girl,” Billy teased. 

You couldn’t help, but smile. Billy easily jumped up to his feet and then helped you up. He hooked your arm around his and then lead you back into the diner. You dropped back down next to El. She looked up at you with her big brown eyes. Hooking an arm around her neck you pulled her in and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

Steve smiled at you and then you all started to dig into your food. Max and El kept up the conversation. The girls compared their school schedules and discovered they had every class together. 

When the bill came you remembered that Steve had said it was his treat, but you still reached for the bill. Steve and Billy both slapped your hand away. You glared at them both. 

“I told you my treat,” Steve said. 

You rolled your eyes. Steve slid in a few hundred bills under the bill and then placed it off to the side. When Jane came back to collect the bill Steve told her to keep the change. Jane squealed in delight when she realized the kind of tip she had just received. 

“So what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?” Billy asked. 

“The museum is on our list for this afternoon,” You said. 

“There’s a vintage arcade/video game museum a few towns over that is here for the weekend. So we’re heading there this afternoon,” El said. 

Max’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Did you want to come?” You asked her. 

Max whipped her head over to look at her brother and Steve. 

“Why don’t we make this a thing. Steve and Max can go with you guys. It will be good for the girls to keep bonding and it will give you guys some alone time,” Billy suggested. 

“What about you?” You asked. 

“I have some business meetings I need to attend to,” Billy said. 

“If Steve has work to do I can just take Max,” You began. 

“No, Steve can go and enjoy the day with his girls. I’ll handle business for today,” Billy said with a smile. 

“Sounds like a plan!” El grinned. 

You smiled. “I guess we better get going,”

Billy walked out with you guys. Steve and Billy opened the doors to your car so all of you could climb inside. The three of you talked excitedly about the day while Steve and Billy exchanged words outside. 

“What are you up to?” Steve asked. 

“It’s time I introduce myself to Chief Hopper and it will be easier if Y/n and El aren’t around,” Billy said. 

Steve smiled and let out a soft chuckle. “Got it. Don’t worry, I’ll keep them far away from Hawkins,”

Billy squeezed Steve’s hand. “I’ll see you tonight,”

Steve sent him a wink and then climbed into your car. Billy stood there smiling and waving. He watched your car disappear into the distance before he went over to his own car and headed back to the police station. 

Billy drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel as he parked in front of the station. Climbing out of the car he pushed his hair out of his face before heading inside. Just his luck Callahan was at the front desk. 

“Callahan, just the man I was looking for,” Billy said. 

Callahan looked up from the computer. His face paled. 

“What can I help you with?” Callahan forced himself to ask. 

“I know Hopper is your boss but if you’re smart you’ll stay clear from Y/n,” Billy warned. 

“I’m only doing my job,” Callahan gulped. 

“You really don’t want to get in mine and Steve’s way,” Billy informed him. 

“Hey, we are trying to keep her safe from people like you,” Callahan snapped. 

Billy chuckled and then leaned against the desk. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard the stories about me, Callahan. You seem to be the smart type. If I were you, I'd do what I’m telling you,” Billy said. 

“Billy Hargrove. I was wondering when I was going to see your ugly mug up close and personal,” Hopper said from behind him. 

A smile tugged at his lips as he pushed away from the desk and turned around. 

“Chief Hopper, it’s so nice to finally see you,” Billy grinned. 

“What are you doing here, Hargrove?” Hopper asked. 

“Just having a little conversation with Callahan here about your baby sister,” Billy said. 

Hopper’s face twitched. 

“You need to stay away from my sister,” Hopper snarled. 

“See, I was just telling Callahan the same thing. The two of you abusing your power as a police officer is quite disgusting,” Billy smirked. 

Hopper had to keep himself from crushing the coffee cup he held in his hand. 

“I don’t know what your play is here, Hargrove, but you and that Harrington kid aren’t going to involve my sister or my daughter,” Hopper growled 

Billy walked over to Hopper. “You’re a little too late for that, Hop,”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Hopper asked between clenched teeth. 

“Well, after we left here earlier today we had a nice brunch at Millies. Currently, Y/n and El are with Steve and my sister heading out to spend the day together,” Billy said. 

Hopper’s hand began to shake in anger. 

“Callahan, call my sister and if she doesn’t answer start tracking her location,” Hopper ordered. 

“Oh, you can’t track her,” Billy said. 

“Why?” Hopper asked. 

“Because when Y/n and El weren’t paying attention I swiped their phones so they could enjoy the day away from you,” Billy said pulling their phones out of his jean jacket. 

“You’re really pushing your luck here,” Hopper warned. 

Billy smiled from ear to ear. 

“Hargrove, I’m going to wipe that smirk off your face,” Hopper said. 

“Good, swing first, please,” Billy taunted. 

“Boss,” Callahan said in a warning tone. 

“This isn’t going to end well for you,” Hopper said. 

“No, this isn’t going to end well for you, Chief. You have no idea who you are messing with,” Billy said. 

Flo came out of the small break room. She stopped when she noticed all three men staring at each other. 

“Do we have a problem?” Flo asked. 

“No, ma’am, I’m just heading out,” Billy said. 

Hopper watched as Billy walked out of the police station with a smile on his face. 

“Callahan, my office, now,” Hopper growled. 

“Jim,” Flo said. 

“I need a minute,” Hopper snarled. 

Callahan just barely made it into his office before Hopper slammed the door. Callahan jumped but then turned to look at his boss. 

“What’s our next step?” Callahan asked. 

“Firstly, we need to find my sister and my daughter, now,” Hopper said. 

“I’m on it,” Callahan said before scrambling out of the office. 

Hopper sat down in his chair behind his desk and let out a sigh. He hated that he had to admit, but he had met his match in Billy and Steve. He had no idea how he was going to be able to stop them plus protect Y/n and El. As of right now, Hopper needed a miracle. 

Down the road, on the edge of town, a black SUV pulled outside of the hotel. The door opened and a tall figure stepped out of the vehicle. They adjusted their coat and smoothed out their suit. They looked around with a soft smile on their face.

It had been so long since they had this much fun hunting somebody down. He had been hot on Billy and Steve’s trail for months. He never thought that they would be dumb enough to come back to Hawkins. But here he was. And now he was so close to catching them that he could taste that sweet sweet victory. 

[cyborgsquirrel]

Sanctuary: Chapter 23

Pairing: Wolfstar

Summary: The epic tale of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, from their first meeting until their happily ever after.

Link to Prologue

Link to All Chapters

Thursday, 2nd December 1971 Remus made it through the next week by trying not to think about Sirius' potential infection, but when the day of the next full moon arrived, he became hyper-focused on him. And not just because he smelled so damn good. Also, why did he smell so damn good? Everyone's scents were stronger to him around the full moon, but no one else's held so much allure.

He watched Sirius closely through Transfiguration in the morning. He seemed to have no trouble focusing on changing his ice into water and back again. Sirius' movements were as fluid and elegant as always, and he didn't seem to be in any pain. They were all positive signs, but he was still worried.

The full moon was a long one that month, nineteen whole hours as a wolf, beginning at ten past three in the afternoon. He would need to be at the hospital wing just after two, which meant leaving Potions only half an hour into the double period. There really wasn't any point in going, but he wanted to see if Sirius had any trouble with the smells in the room. He regretted the decision immediately; Sirius seemed as oblivious as ever of the putrid odours in the dungeon classroom, but Remus was not. They were sickening. He only lasted fifteen minutes before he raised his hand and asked Slughorn if he could be excused to the Hospital wing. 'I'll take him,' Sirius volunteered. Great. That was just what he needed. Alone time with Sirius' ridiculously tempting scent. 'Thank you, Mister Black. Put your cauldron under stasis and be sure to return quickly.' 'Yes, sir.' Sirius cast the stasis charm on his cauldron and turned to face him. 'Come on, mate. Let's get you to Pomfrey. You look terrible.' Remus moved to pick his bag up from the floor, but Sirius beat him to it, saying, 'Here, let me carry that.' He wasn't too comfortable having Sirius carry his bag in case he noticed it was bulkier than it should have been with the change of clothes he'd packed in preparation. But Sirius showed no sign he'd noticed anything odd about it. As they climbed the stairs to the third floor, he kept glancing at Sirius, still looking for symptoms. He couldn't decide whether or not to warn someone of the potential danger. 'Have I got something on my face?' Sirius asked. 'You keep looking at me.' 'Oh, um. No. You just don't look too good either. Do you feel okay?' Remus said, fishing. 'I feel fine,' Sirius said, giving him a funny look. 'You're the one who's ill.' Okay, so he was probably fine. He hadn't touched him at the Quidditch match. Everything was okay. But did you even get symptoms before the first change? His memory of that time was so fuzzy, he couldn't remember. All he could recall was horrible fear. And wanting a hug. They reached the Hospital Wing, and Sirius said goodbye before returning to class, taking his comforting scent with him. Remus went inside. 'Afternoon, Mister Lupin,' Pomfrey said, bustling over to him. She already had her cloak on, ready to leave. 'How are you feeling?' 'No worse than normal,' he said. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. 'Let's hope this month is a little easier on you. Are you ready?' He nodded. 'Yes, ma'am.' She cast the disillusionment charm on him and led him out to the grounds. It was much colder than the previous month, and the grass was crunchy underfoot. He loved crunchy grass, but he found it hard to enjoy the sensation with the level of anxiety he was under. The time to mention his concerns was rapidly running out. 'Professor Flitwick tells me you're competent with colloportus now. Do you feel comfortable locking yourself in, or would you still like me to do it?' Madam Pomfrey asked when they reached the Whomping Willow. 'I can do it. You don't need to come,' he said. It was now or never. She was turning around, but the words were caught in his throat. 'I'll see you in the morning then. Good luck, Remus.' She was leaving; it was too late. If Sirius was infected, there would be bloodshed tonight. Remus woke after the transformation to the sight of dusk through the hospital room window. Had he been unconscious all day? There was no one in sight outside; the grounds were eerily deserted. Was that because it was so cold, or because half the school was dead? Surely if Sirius had turned and gone on a rampage, he'd still be in the Hogsmeade house, though. Madam Pomfrey would be far too busy to worry about him. Unless they wanted to make sure he didn't escape because they were organising his execution for infecting someone and causing the deaths of hundreds of children. Oh, Gods. He was going to be sick. Remus bent over the edge of the bed and vomited all over the floor. Madam Pomfrey rushed in from the office. 'Oh, you poor dear. Let's get you cleaned up,' she said, waving her wand to scourgify the mess he'd made. 'There now. All better. Lay back down, that's it.' She certainly wasn't acting like she'd cleaned up a massacre the night before, or that she blamed him for the deaths. But that didn't mean anything. Madam Pomfrey was a professional. She'd treat even a mass-murderer with compassion. 'Did anything happen last night?' he asked. 'You tore yourself up pretty badly again,' she said with a frown. 'I wonder if it's because the moon is in the sky for longer during the winter?' She looked him up and down. 'How are you feeling now?' 'Sore. The usual,' he said. Madam Pomfrey frowned at him again. 'That doesn't help me, Mister Lupin. I don't know what "the usual" is. Please describe your symptoms and do not downplay them or I can't treat you properly.' 'Yes ma'am,' he said, ducking his head. 'I'm sorry. My bones are aching, my joints are sore when I move. My stomach hurts quite a lot, I'm guessing I ripped it open again?' She nodded in confirmation. 'And my right arm feels like a wolf gnawed it off during the night. Which is probably fairly accurate?' 'You came pretty close. I'd say you transformed back just in time,' she said, looking grim. Merlin, he'd nearly lost his hand before, but his whole arm? Would she even be able to reattach it? Would it transform back or stay a wolf? He shuddered. This month was the longest moon of the year, though. Hopefully, next month wouldn't be as bad. Most importantly, Madam Pomfrey hadn't said anything about a rampaging beast in the halls last night. He couldn't be sure everything was fine until he saw Sirius for himself, though. Maybe he'd transformed in the dorm, and James had managed to magically lock the door before he died. That would be just like James, to sacrifice himself saving everyone else. The teachers might not even know anything was wrong yet. 'Can I go soon?' he asked, not holding out much hope but having to try. 'Not until that wound on your stomach is healed. It's Friday evening, you're not missing anything.' How long ago did she leave school? Friday night was when everything interesting happened. But that's not why he wanted to leave. He needed to make sure his friends were okay. Madam Pomfrey's expression was uncompromising, though. Arguing with her would be pointless. Might as well get something else done that he'd been meaning to do while he was stuck there. 'Can I have my bag? I want to write to my mum.' She handed him the bag. 'Don't overdo it. If you feel tired, sleep. Understand?' He nodded. 'Yes. ma'am.' Madam Pomfrey left and he pulled parchment and a quill from his bag. He had no idea how he was going to word this. His mum would be upset no matter what he said. She adored Christmas, and he knew she was missing him. But his fear of spending the next full moon, eighteen and a half hours as a wolf, in the hole in the garden was stronger than his sympathy for his mum. He had to put himself first in this. He wrote several drafts of the letter before he was satisfied that it said what he wanted in the nicest possible way. He hoped she wouldn't be too upset. Dear Mum, Everything is good here. I'm doing well in all my lessons, even Potions. I think I managed to find the best friends in the whole world. They're really kind, and they do everything they can to make me feel comfortable. I wanted to ask if you would mind very much if I didn't come home for the Christmas holidays? The reason is that my health problem has been quite bad recently. Please don't worry, Madam Pomfrey is very good at her job, which is why I'd like to stay. As much as I miss you and want to see you, I anticipate that I may need her expertise during the holiday. Please let me know as soon as possible. Lots of love, Remus He rolled up the finished letter and put it in his bag. He wouldn't send it until he knew for sure that Sirius and the others were okay. It would be awful for his mum if she received that after he was executed. On that happy thought, he lay down. The sooner he went to sleep, the sooner it would be morning and he would know. One way or another. He awoke well before dawn and waited impatiently for Madam Pomfrey to arrive and assess him. She finally turned up at seven o'clock. 'I'm all better. Can I go now?' he asked the second she walked through the door. She smiled. 'Eager to start your weekend, are you? Let me check you over first.' She waved her wand, and he waited, fidgeting with his bedsheets, while she looked over the results. 'Yes, everything looks good. You may go,' she said. He swung his legs out of the bed. 'But,' she continued, 'take it easy for a day or two, I don't want you overdoing it. Your body goes through a dreadful ordeal every month. Be kind to it.' Like she needed to tell him what his body went through. He was there. 'Yes, ma'am,' he said. 'Good boy. See you next month, Mister Lupin.' With that, she swept out of the room, leaving him to get dressed in private. He hurried to put his clothes on, grabbed his bag and rushed to the main doors of the wing, giving Madam Pomfrey a wave on the way out. Now that he was finally on his way to find out for sure, he was terrified. What if he pushed the door open to find Sirius weeping over the corpses of their friends? Would Sirius attack him when he realised he was the cause, or just ignore him entirely? Which would hurt more? The questions ran through his mind on an infinite loop, and by the time he reached the door to his dorm room, he had worked himself up to breaking point. His hand was shaking as he reached for the doorknob. He turned it and pushed the door open. And blinked. Sirius was leaning on the windowsill with his back to the door, looking out the window, his hair flowing loose down his back. James was lying on his bed flicking through a book and Peter was sitting on the floor playing some game with a pack of exploding snap cards. Everything was normal. Sirius turned from the window and looked him up and down. 'Alright, mate. You're looking better.' He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept well for a couple of days, but he was smiling. 'I feel better. Thanks.' Remus put his bag down and joined Peter on the floor. 'Can I play?' 'Sure,' Peter said and gathered up the cards to start dealing. James and Sirius came over and sat down too. Remus smiled. His heart-rate was gradually returning to normal. There had been nothing to worry about. Sirius was still very much whole and human. -o-o-o-o-

Sirius didn't know how many more months he could carry on like this, knowing Remus' secret but not being able to be with him after the full moon to see if he was okay. He'd barely slept the two nights Remus was away. This month had been admittedly easier than last month, simply because James and Peter were both concerned too. But it was still hard. They didn't know how serious Remus' condition was; they just thought he was sick, not tearing himself to shreds in some unknown location. He felt utterly wretched for thinking about his own suffering when Remus had it so much worse, but he couldn't help it. It was just so fucking hard. The not knowing. The waiting for news. He considered telling James and Peter so they could at least suffer with him, but that would be a betrayal. Remus had the right to choose who to share his secrets with. He wouldn't take that away from him. He'd already lost too much. It was almost impossible to concentrate on his lessons on Friday. He'd ended up turning his ice into powdered snow instead of water in Transfiguration--he still wasn't sure how that had happened--and he'd killed all his plantain seedlings in Herbology by over-watering them, earning him his first T grade. None of that mattered though, as long as Remus came back alive. And he did. Remus returned on Saturday morning, and he was so relieved, but he thought he'd done well at playing it cool. He knew it was the longest full moon of the year. If Remus survived this one, then he should be okay for the rest. Right? Gods, he wished there was someone he could ask. He wasn't sure how he was going to cope if Remus went home for the holiday. The full moon was the night before they returned. Would he even be well enough to travel on the train? Or would he have to come back to school late, leaving him to wonder if he was coming back at all? That would be a nightmare. He did his best to keep everything calm and quiet on Saturday, knowing Remus would still be recovering. Whenever James suggested doing something that required a little more energy, like working on their Christmas feast plans, he claimed to be too tired or not in the mood so Remus wouldn't have to make excuses or be forced into doing something too strenuous. He still looked very tired, and there was a permanent crease in his forehead that deepened a little whenever he moved. Was he in pain still? If only he could ask him. By Sunday, James had had enough of the excuses and insisted on working on their plans. They spent an hour transfiguring the floor of their dorm into different materials to see which would be best for dancing on. Sirius and James performed elaborate dances to test them out. As heirs of their houses, they'd both been forced to learn ballroom dancing at an early age, and he enjoyed hearing Remus' laughter at their antics. He really needed to laugh more, in his opinion. When that task was complete, James ticked it off of the list before glancing up from the red notebook. 'Remus, have you made any progress finding a way to time the magic for the end of the feast?' Remus nodded. 'Yes. I've altered the timing charm we used before to be activated by a phrase of our choosing, but we need someone to say the words. Obviously, it can't be one of us because that would give away our identity.' Peter frowned. 'We could ask Dumbledore? He seemed to enjoy the Halloween entertainment; he might go along with it.' James grinned. 'You know? I think he might. He's a good sort, Dumbledore. We could leave a note on the table in front of his seat.' They all agreed this was the best idea. The back-up plan was to pay a random student to shout it out, but they hoped that wouldn't be necessary. They spent the rest of the day going over his ice sculpture designs and practising making their choices using delayed transfiguration. Though they weren't entirely sure how they were going to get the bowls of water into the Hall. They couldn't be set up in advance, people would notice them. 'The house-elves?' Remus suggested. James frowned. 'Can they hear what's happening in the Hall? So they know when to send them up?' Remus shrugged. 'They must be able to. Remember, on the first day, Dumbledore said "let the feast begin" and the food appeared.' James nodded. 'Yes. That's true. Unless they had it timed to the second.' Sirius stood up. 'Only one way to find out. To the kitchens!' He pointed dramatically at the door and marched out. They talked with the house-elves, and they were more than happy to help as long as everyone got to eat first. After explaining what they had planned, the elves clapped their hands, delighted with the idea, and offered to provide refreshments and rearrange the house tables at the appropriate time. The Marauders were glad of the offer because the tables were huge, and they weren't sure any of them were strong enough to move them without draining their cores and putting themselves in a coma. They left the house-elves with a diagram of the Great Hall showing how they wanted everything positioned and told them they would return the day before the feast to set-up the magic on the bowls. For the next week, they spent all their free time planning and practising. He learnt more from planning mischief than he did in any of his classes. Even Peter made a lot of progress under the calm tutelage of Remus and with the encouragement of his friends by his side. It was good to see both of them growing in confidence. Peter was beginning to believe in himself a little more, and Remus was acting more relaxed around them again. Almost back to how he was before the Quidditch match disaster. On the morning of Saturday the 11th, he received a letter from his mother that threatened to ruin his week-long good mood. If you could even call it a letter. It was barely a note. Dear Mister Sirius Black, The family has decided that your presence at our Christmas celebration is unwanted. You will remain at school for the Holidays. Walburga Black Sirius stared at the note for a moment before screwing it up in his fist. "Mister Sirius Black?" They addressed him as if he was a stranger. "The family has decided?" Was he not a part of the family? She didn't even sign it "Mother." He hadn't been planning on going home for the holidays anyway, but to be told in such a cold and unfeeling way that he was unwanted? That hurt. Remus walked over and sat down next to him on his bed. 'Are you okay?' He said nothing, just handed Remus the screwed up ball of parchment. Remus smoothed it out and read the few words on the page. 'I'm sorry, Sirius. That must have hurt,' Remus said, his voice quiet. Sirius felt a brief touch on his back and smiled sadly. Remus was making himself uncomfortable to offer him comfort. He wasn't worth it, but it was welcome. 'If it helps, I'm staying for Christmas too. My mum said it was okay.' That did help. It was the best news he could have hoped for. He looked at Remus and grinned. 'Oh, we are going to have so much fun. We should make some plans.' Remus smiled. 'What did you have in mind?' 'We could set up back to school surprises in all the common rooms,' he said with a wicked grin. Remus chuckled. 'We'll have to find Hufflepuff first. We still don't know where it is. But that sounds like an excellent idea.' Then he leaned close to Sirius and whispered, 'How about back to school surprises in James' and Pete's beds too?' 'Remus Lupin,' he said, laughing. 'I think you might be my soul mate.' Remus blushed Gryffindor red and coughed. 'Yes. Well. We could also go to the beach room so you can paint the sunset while it's quiet,' he said, rapidly changing the subject. 'Great idea,' Sirius said. 'I could paint the sunrise and the cave too. We only have the place until June. We'll want to remember it. It's our first big discovery.' 'You think we'll find more things that good?' Remus asked. 'We found that within, what? Three weeks of being here? I bet we find loads of things in the next seven years. We'll be legendary.' He flopped back on the bed and Remus lay down next to him. 'I'm so glad I found you guys. I can't imagine being here without you,' Sirius said. Remus was silent for a minute before he said in a quiet voice, 'Me too.' Sirius frowned. Was Remus still worried about them rejecting him? He grappled for something to say, but nothing came to mind that wouldn't be much too obvious. Suddenly, James burst into the room with Peter on his heels. 'Where's that itching powder my dad sent?' James asked. 'We've just seen some Slytherins attacking a group of Gryffindors for absolutely no reason.' 'What did you have in mind?' Sirius said, sitting up. 'Sneak into their dorms and put it in their clothes,' James said with a shrug. Sirius grinned. 'Count me in.' They went out on their revenge mission at two o'clock in the morning, unfortunately having to leave Remus behind. It took them quite some time to locate the dorms of all the boys James and Peter had seen, and it was almost four by the time they crawled into their own beds with a sense of satisfaction. For the first time in his life, Sirius slept past six o'clock, waking at half-past nine on Sunday with a start. Was his mother finally losing her grip on his mind? It seemed she was. As the week went on, he found he could sleep as late as he wanted, sometimes only just getting up in time for class after being prodded awake by Peter, jumped on by James, or his personal favourite, coaxed out of unconsciousness by Remus whispering his name. Of course, that might have something to do with the nightly excursions to the Great Hall, but he liked to think it was because he was finally breaking free. By Friday lunchtime, they only had two things left to do. The Marauders strolled down to the kitchens to set-up the magic in the items the house-elves would be sending up and to finalise the plans. Breen showed them the refreshments they had prepared. Lots of light finger foods, as people would already be full from the meal, and a fruit punch that was delicious. They thanked the house-elves for all of their help and presented them with a painting of the kitchen as a Christmas gift. Sirius had worked hard on it using his birthday gift from James, and it showed the kitchen in full-preparation mode, all the elves were occupied with important tasks and the image seemed to burst with life. The elves adored it. Several of them had to wipe their eyes. Teely, the elf in charge of the kitchen, took the painting and hung it above the main fireplace, before expressing her gratitude on behalf of all the elves. With that task complete, there was one thing left; they needed to leave the note for Dumbledore. They waited until classes were over for the day, and then Sirius, Remus and Peter created a distraction in the Entrance Hall while James snuck into the Great Hall and left the note at Dumbledore's seat. Sirius, Remus and Peter had points deducted for hexing several Slytherins with mucus ad nauseam, but it didn't matter, James had completed the mission, and that was the important thing. -o-o-o-o-

Extracts from The Official Marauders Notebook

Bully hit list  (Last page in the notebook)

Snape - dungbomb cauldron, stinksap shower, mucus ad nauseam x 2, Pumpkin juice in lap, itching powder

Avery - Mucus ad nauseam, Pumpkin juice in lap, itching powder

Mulciber - Mucus ad nauseam, pumpkin juice in lap, itching powder

Crouch - Mucus ad nauseam, pumpkin juice in lap, itching powder

McTavish - Stinkbombed

Notes passed in History - Wednesday 8th December

Honestly, why don't they replace this guy? - Sirius

Maybe he won't leave? - James

They could at least get a new teacher and let Binns lecture to an empty classroom. It's not like he notices we're even here - Sirius

Yeah, but if they did that, we wouldn't be able to nap through History - James

That is a good point. - Sirius

At this point, Peter waved, and Sirius passed him the notebook

I tried to talk to Remus, but he shushed me. He's writing so many notes. I don't know how he does it. Do you want to play burn the witch? - Peter

Sure - Sirius & James

This was followed by several games of burn the witch (basically the same as hangman, but with a witch.) Sirius won three games, James two and Peter one.

Notes passed between Remus and Sirius in Transfiguration, Monday 13th December. Removed before the book was returned to James.

Will you help me get James back for that frog he put in my sock drawer? - Sirius

Do you even have to ask? What did you have in mind? - Remus

Delayed Transfiguration on his drawers, so everything he puts in them for the next three days turns pink, but make it happen when he'll be in class. - Sirius

Consider it done - Remus

I adore you - Sirius

Aren't you going to say you adore me too? - Sirius

I think your head is already big enough - Remus

You wound me - Sirius

Notes passed between James and Sirius in Potions, Thursday 16th December

I don't suppose you know why my robes just turned pink? - James

Don't have a clue, mate. But you look very dashing - Sirius

I think you know exactly why, and that's why you can't stop giggling - James

Maybe you should ask Remus, he's the expert at delayed transfiguration - Sirius

Don't you blame this on Remus, he wouldn't do this to me - James

Sorry, you got sent out of class, James - Sirius

EVERYTHING I OWN IS PINK!

You forgot to sign your name - Sirius

Chapter 24

[dvrcas]

               * ╰    KATHRYN  NEWTON  ;  TWENTY  ;  SHE / HER  ——  wow,  DORCAS  MEADOWES  sure  has  grown  !  it’s  almost  hard  to  believe  they  actually  passed  recruitment…  i  still  remember  them  being  so  INTUITIVE  &  OPTIMISTIC  now  they  just  seem  MATERIALISTIC  &  CAPRICIOUS.  guess  they’re  special  if  they  made  it  this  far.  word  in  the  halls  is  they’re  training  to  be  a  HIT  WITCH  but  i  don’t  think  they’ll  make  it  out  alive.  after  all,  they’ve  shown  signs  of  being  NEUTRAL  in  the  war.

PINTEREST

character  inspo:  amy  march  (  little  women  ),  shelby  wyatt  (  quantico  ),  glinda  upland  (  wicked  ),  rachel  green  (  friends  )

dorcas  louisa  ruth  meadowes  hails  from  old  money,  sweltering  summer  heat,  peaches,  spanish  moss,  and  crickets  at  dusk.  she  grew  up  in  the  american  deep  south,  the  baby  of  a  well-established  pureblood  family.  

with  four  older  siblings,  two  doting  parents,  and  a  fleet  of  nannies,  dorcas  was  never  in  want  of  attention.  basil  &  myra  meadowes  married  and  had  children  young  and  fast;  her  mother  had  dorcas’s  eldest  brother  when  she  was  only  twenty  one,  and  had  dorcas  (  the  youngest  )  five  years  later.  

(  her  siblings,  in  order:  montgomery,  or  monty.  the  only  boy,  aged  25.  clementine,  23.  the  twins,  willow  &  winona,  22.  and  last  comes  dorcas,  20.  )

their  parents  loved  them,  to  be  sure,  but  basil  &  myra  were  never  much  for  hard  work;  the  nannies  dealt  with  diaper  changes  and  crying  toddlers  and  scraped  knees.  

but  when  the  sun  was  shining,  the  meadowes  would  gather  their  offspring  and  spoil  them  rotten  with  picnics,  and  weekends  at  their  beach  home,  and  banquets  with  all  basil  &  myra’s  friends.  and  so  all  dorcas’s  childhood  memories  of  her  parents  are  of  laughter  and  golden  days  and  bliss.

basil  &  myra  held  frequent  catered  banquets,  the  adults  getting  flushed  and  tipsy  off  rot-your-teeth  sugary  drinks,  cooing  over  the  dolled-up  children.  dorcas  adored  the  attention.  she  loved  dressing  up  in  her  best  clothes  and  showing  off  the  meagre  magic  she  could  do  (  though  she  still  had  impressive  control  over  wandless  magic  for  a  child  )  and  being  patted  on  the  head  and  called  darling.

i’m  pretty  sure  jkr  has  said  that  ilvermorny  is  the  only  north  american  wizarding  school  but  i’m  gonna  go  ahead  and  say  fuck  that  cause  i  can’t  see  dorcas  and  her  siblings  going  to  ilvermorny,  since  1)  it’s  in  massachusetts  and  2)  it  “  has  the reputation  of  being  one  of  the  most  democratic,  least  elitist  of  all  the  great  wizarding  schools  ”  and  i  think  dorcas  would’ve  gone  to  a  preppier  school

also,  one  school  for  all  of  north  america  ?  yeah  ok,  sure

so  we’ll  say  she  went  to  a  smaller,  more  prestigious  wizarding  school  in  virginia,  the  wizarding  equivalent  of  a  private  school.  aglionby  academy  vibes  from  the  raven  cycle.  

it  wouldn’t  be  quite  fair  to  say  dorcas  excelled  in  school.  she  did  quite  well,  but  she  wasn’t  top  of  her  class.  more  like  …  fourth  in  her  class.  

she  wasn’t  even  top  in  her  siblings.  they  all  had  their  unofficial  roles  to  play.  monty  was  the  athletic  one,  clementine  was  the  brainy  one,  the  twins  were  charming  and  mischievous,  and  dorcas  …  dorcas  was  the  pretty  one.

but  that  doesn’t  bother  dorcas.  she  loves  her  siblings,  and  she  loves  her  parents.  everyone  knows  how  close  the  meadowes  family  is.

the  thing  about  dorcas  is  that  she  never  seems  bothered.  she  floats  through  life  with  a  carefree,  laissez-faire  attitude,  apple-cheeked  and  dimpled,  laughing  off  any  failure  that  comes  her  way,  because  hey,  no  big  deal,  it  wasn’t  that  important  anyway.  

(  if  you  asked  dorcas  what  is  important  to  her,  what  matters  to  her,  she  would  have  trouble  giving  you  an  answer.  )

dorcas  flits  from  short-lived  interest  to  short-lived  interest.  when  she  was  thirteen,  it  was  horseback  riding.  when  she  was  fourteen,  it  was  wandlore.  when  she  was  fifteen,  it  was  poetry.  but  none  of  them  lasted  very  long,  conquered  by  that  old  familiar  restless  boredom.

dorcas  is  the  quintessential  baby  sister  (  think  amy  march  )  which  is  why,  when  monty  enrolled  in  a  martial  arts  course,  dorcas  insisted  on  enrolling  as  well.  (  i  feel  like  wizards  probably  have  their  own  unique  styles  of  martial  arts,  but  i’m  gonna  say  it  was  something  like  jiu  jitsu  where  you  use  the  opponent’s  strength  against  them,  since  dorcas  is  fairly  small  )

soon  after,  monty  was  recruited  by  the  american  quodpot  team  and  had  to  leave.  but  dorcas  stayed  on.  something  about  the  thrill  of  it,  the  foreignness  and  the  physicality,  kept  her  hooked.  when  she  was  on  the  mat,  there  was  no  past  or  future,  just  in  the  moment.

not  that  she  vocalized  any  of  that.  if  you  asked  her,  it  was  just  a  fun  way  to  stay  in  shape.  

dorcas’s  parents  found  their  daughter’s  new  ‘  hobby  ’  strange,  but  delightful  and  cute,  trotting  it  out  as  a  fun  tidbit  at  parties  when  they  showed  dorcas  off.  did  you  know,  dorcas  reckons  she’s  a  wrestler  now  –  bless  her  !  watch  out,  she’s  dangerous  !  followed  by  a  round  of  laughter.

as  a  child,  dorcas  would’ve  loved  the  attention,  but  now,  it  was  starting  to  grate.  not  that  she  would’ve  ever  dreamed  of  protesting  —  she  loved  her  parents,  and  they  meant  well.  there  was  no  sense  in  making  a  big  deal  over  a  silly  hobby.  it  wasn’t  that  important  anyway.

the  only  person  who  took  her  seriously  was  her  coach,  a  fearsome,  grizzled  wizard  with  an  amusing  name.  in  fact,  robert  robertson  took  her  more  seriously  than  she  took  herself.  he  wouldn’t  let  her  quit  when  things  got  tough,  and  under  his  tutelage  she  branched  out,  explored  other  fighting  styles,  met  other  experts.  

her  parents’  interest  in  her  martial  training  waned  quickly,  especially  when  a  new  hobby  came  along,  one  with  well-defined  cheekbones  and  striking  grey  eyes.  seymour  darville  was  the  nephew  of  a  family  friend.  also  pureblood,  of  course.  he  and  dorcas  hit  it  off  right  away,  and  it  wasn’t  long  before  they  were  an  item  and  their  gossipy  relatives  finally  had  something  to  gossip  about.

years  went  by.  dorcas  grew  from  a  teenager  to  a  young  adult.  she  continued  her  training.  meanwhile,  her  relationship  with  seymour  solidified.  her  older  siblings  all  found  partners  and  wed  young,  just  like  their  parents.  dorcas  became  an  aunt  four  times  over.  their  gossipy  relatives  began  dropping  not-so-subtle  hints,  wondering  when  it  would  be  dorcas’s  turn  to  take  the  veil.  the  cement  of  dorcas’s  future  life  was  hardening.

seymour  proposed  over  a  candlelight  dinner  with  roses  and  a  ring,  violins  enchanted  to  serenade  them.  it  was  picture-perfect,  something  straight  out  of  a  romance  novel.

dorcas  didn’t  answer.  she  told  him  she  needed  time  to  think  about  it.  for  a  girl  unable  to  commit  to  most  things,  a  husband  was  an  awfully  big  commitment.  especially  one  she  feared  she’d  fallen  out  of  love  with.  but  her  family  was  expecting  it,  and  his  family  was  expecting  it,  and  besides,  there  was  nothing  that  made  a  girl  half  so  interesting  as  a  diamond  on  her  finger.  right  ?

and  that  was  when  dorcas  was  recruited  for  edin,  by  robert  robertson  personally.  dorcas  had  never  been  overseas  before.  she’d  always  stayed  home,  comfortable  with  the  spanish  moss,  the  peach  trees,  and  american  pureblood  tradition.  going  to  edin  would  be  …  insane.  training  to  be  a  hit  witch  ?  dorcas  wasn’t  a  hit  witch.  she’d  get  one  month  in  before  she  got  bored  and  wanted  to  leave.  not  to  mention  how  far  it  was.  and  she  had  family  in  georgia,  a  loving  boyfriend,  a  future.  

these  were  all  things  dorcas’s  family  said  when  she  told  them  she  would  be  going  to  the  united  kingdom  for  a  year.

i’m  just  worried  about  my  little  girl,  darlin’,  her  mother  said.  you’ve  never  been  so  far  from  home  before.  what  if  something  happens  ?  what  if  you  don’t  come  back  ?

to  which  dorcas  replied,  well,  of  course  i’m  coming  back.  i  can’t  miss  my  own  wedding.  

and  of  course,  that  derailed  their  protests  completely,  as  dorcas  knew  it  would.  dorcas  would  go  to  edin  and  play  hit  witch,  have  her  fun  for  a  year,  and  then  she  would  come  back  to  her  family  and  her  fiancé.  shackled  to  home  for  life.  and  edin,  and  dorcas’s  martial  training,  and  the  one  thing  she’d  committed  to  in  her  life,  would  stay  an  ocean  away.

some  other  things:

even  though  rappaport’s  law  forbidding  muggle  and  magic  interaction  was  lifted  in  1965,  when  dorcas  was  five  years  old,  the  segregation  between  muggle  and  magic  was  too  deeply  ingrained  to  fade  that  easily.  as  such,  dorcas  is  HELLA  clueless  about  the  muggle  world  !  her  private  school  had  very  few  muggleborns,  and  the  muggleborns  that  did  attend  kept  quiet  about  their  heritage.  there  was  no  muggle  studies  or  anything  of  the  sort.

she’s  also  used  to  being  rich  af  lol

other  than  on  the  mat,  dorcas  tends  to  avoid  conflict.  she’s  genuine,  kindhearted  and  optimistic,  and  remarkably  in  tune  with  others’  emotions,  though  her  pureblood  naïveté  might  rub  some  the  wrong  way.  

she’s  like  …  fucking  good  at  fighting.  she’s  nimble  and  surprisingly  strong,  and  people  tend  to  underestimate  her.  she  works  hard  to  keep  herself  in  top  physical  health.  she  eats  healthy  and  exercises  regularly.

this  was  a  fucking  NOVEL  i  am  so  sorry

[buckybabybaby]

Mr Hollywood (Chapter 8)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it.

But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1599

Chapter summary: Easter holidays and ignoring Bucky's show; all anyone can talk about.

Warnings: a little bit of angst :( no actually Bucky, but soon!

Previous: Chapter 7

Mr Hollywood Masterlist | Main Masterlist

*****

Waking up early on Monday, you take a few moments to just lay there, enjoying the quiet. You know today will be difficult, no matter how many promises of letting go and moving on you've made to yourself. Five more minutes avoiding the inevitable won't hurt.

Peggy had insisted you stayed until late afternoon yesterday, not wanting you to be alone too soon, but you couldn't intrude on her for too long. The short walk back to your house felt like a marathon as you past right by the house Bucky used to rent a flat in, and you couldn't stop yourself from glancing through the hedge and into the window that used to be his lounge. The 'for let' sign was up again, another neighbour moving on some place new, and you'd quickly slipped on your sunglasses, not wanting any pupils to see their teacher crying in the street. Reaching home, you were surprised to find your abandoned shopping placed neatly inside your porch. Looking a little scuffed and bashed, but nonetheless edible, you'd brought it inside as you wondered who you had to thank.

Dayton had called you yesterday evening, under the guise of just checking in, but you had a feeling it was more than that, and it didn't take long to get it out of him. Bucky had turned up at his place on Saturday night, after you'd seen him, and when Dayton had taken the opportunity to ask about what was happening between the two of you he'd taken off again.

“Didn't give me a chance to go after him. Straight back in his taxi and puff, gone.”

“Where's he now then?” You'd asked, worried despite everything. You can't just switch your feelings off overnight.

“On his way back to America, according to one of his cast mates. Buck's not answering my calls.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Not your fault, sweetheart.”

“What if it is!” You'd exclaimed. “What if I've caused a wedge between you and him? Just because he hates me shouldn't mean he-”

Dayton interrupted, bewildered. “Whoa, what? Hates you? What's going on?”

Trying to summarise Saturdays events, the tears made an appearance again. He was just as astounded and angry as Peggy was, sure you must have heard Bucky wrong, but you know what he said.

You don't think you'll ever forget it.

“Don't you worry about it, I'll find out what's going on.” Dayton had hung up with a promise.

Pulled back from your reminiscing by your alarm, you sigh and slide out of bed, hoping to get this day over as quickly and painlessly as possible.

*****

Easter is late this year, a blessing as it means you only have to make it through a short week before the school breaks for a fortnight. Even three and a half days feel like forever, especially as the upset caused by seeing Bucky again, and everything that came with it, has you running on hardly any sleep.

His television show has clearly wrapped, the promotion in full swing, and all the children at school can talk about is the trailer. You haven't been able to bring yourself to watch it yet, which is why it comes as such a shock during lunch break on Tuesday when a double decker bus rolls past the front gates, his image plastered on the side, two times larger than life. You vaguely recognise the actor he's standing beside, but you're too dazed to think straight.

Noticing your frozen figure staring after the bus, Peggy comes across to stand with you, a comforting hand on your arm as you turn to her open mouthed.

“Are you okay Y/N?”

You spin back to the playground where all the children who also saw the advert are straining to see it again. “Have you watched the trailer?”

“Do you want me to say no?”

“I want you to be honest.”

“Then yes. It actually looks quite good.”

“Of course it does,” You mutter bitterly.

“Sam Wilson is always great.”

You nod in agreement. No wonder Bucky had been so excited to get this role, there weren't many actors he placed higher than Sam Wilson, and getting to work with him was probably a dream come true.

It's just a shame that dream didn't involve you.

*****

By the time Thursday afternoon arrives you feel like you need the two weeks off just to sleep. A few pencils were snapped when you suddenly remembered Bucky's words to you but other than that, you managed to get through to the end of term with no major break downs.

The holiday comes at a good time weather wise too, and you bask in the sun with the chickens for most of the first weekend. You're happy the hens got to enjoy a few full days of freedom in the garden, as when you open their coop the next morning, little Dot isn't moving.

It is obvious she's gone.

Moving her away from the others as you find the spade to dig her a final resting place, you wipe your eyes on your sleeve. She was always Bucky's favourite, smaller than the others and picked on more because of it, he made sure she never missed out on treats.

Replacing the earth after you bury her in a shady spot under the willow, you find a tall, pretty daisy to plant in loose soil over her, before slumping down on to the bench nearby, exhausted both physically and mentally. Most people laughed when you said you had such pets, not understanding how a farm animal could be as interesting and rewarding as a more conventional companion, but then they met them and understood your love. It's always hard when you lose one, harder still when the person you long to speak to about it has made it clear he doesn't want you in his life any more.

When Sophia comes to stay during the second week she brings Benjamin, and flowers in sympathy for your loss. She gets it. Helping her unpack her weekend bag, you listen to her chatter away about her plans for the nursery, and how they're trying to squeeze one last holiday in before they become a family of four.

Dayton's on a trip back home, very last minute, and he'd asked you if you minded keeping Sophia company for the couple of days he's away. He didn't say why he's going back to the USA but you have an idea, it would be too much of a coincidence so soon after Bucky disappeared from his driveway after your confrontation. Regardless of your own feelings that it would be pointless to try and talk him round, you wish him luck in his quest.

She knows about the current situation surrounding you and Bucky, but ever the optimist, she's convinced that it's nothing more than a silly argument that will be resolved in a few weeks. You don't have the heart to tell her otherwise. Instead, you busy yourself with keeping Sophia and Benjamin fed, watered and entertained, playing the perfect host to hide your pain.

*****

School holidays used to drag on forever when you were a child, however now you work there it feels like you blink and it's over. You're not too disappointed to be back, however, as the summer term is the most enjoyable in your experience, the lighter evenings meaning you don't feel so confined in your home after you finish for the day, and the children seem more happy and carefree in the warmer weather.

There were also more dates in the calender this time of year, it'll be sports day again before long, but first, the May Day celebrations. You hadn't been involved in the organisation of this years fête, and as you stare at the poster and the announcement of the 'extra special star guest', you really wish you had. Ripping the flyer off the wall, you march to Peggy's office, not bothering to knock before you burst in so it's lucky she's alone.

“What the hell is this?”

“I could ask you the same, Y/N.” She stands from her desk, moving to close the door behind you. “You can't just charge in here unannounced. We've got to at least pretend to be professional.”

She's joking but you're not laughing, shoving the offending piece of paper into her hands, causing her smile to slip.

“Ah.”

“Ah, indeed. Why the hell didn't you tell me he was coming?” You pace as you rant. “Why the hell is he coming? What has he got to do with anything! And you must have some sort of input in this, why did you let it happen?”

“I'm sorry Y/N. What was I meant to do?”

“Stop it!”

“Without airing yours and his private lives, there's nothing I could’ve done!”

She's right. Huffing in frustration, you hold your tongue. You can't afford to lose two friends in less than half a year, and you know Peggy hasn't done this on purpose, now you think about it rationally Bucky being there would bring a lot of attention to the schools humble spring fête. You can no longer go on any website, or watch TV, without seeing his face. Whatever the show is about you're not sure, as you still haven't got the strength to watch any of the dozens of videos hanging around, but it's clear it's going to be the next big sensation. That Bucky is going to be the next big sensation.

You guess you're going to have to suck it up and ignore your heartache, just for one day.

*****

A/n: lot's of Bucky in the next chapter, I promise! And maybe an explanation or two...

As always, thank you for reading!! Feedback is very welcome if you would like :D

Chapter 9

[blueeyesspitfire]

Goals

Somehow, it’s already late November. We’ve had lows in the single digits and a little bit of snow. It’s cliche to say, but I feel like just yesterday I was swimming in Lake Ontario and kayaking in the Salmon River reservoir. Around this time last year, we were recovering from our second major snowfall in the North Country. After that storm, things were relatively calm until the new year. Temperatures right now have been hovering just above freezing, with warm days ahead.

The team is doing well, but I’m apprehensive about sending in a Can-Am Crown 30 entry. Our goal for this season is a mid-distance race. We need to put on more miles and pick up our pace a bit. My home trail is full of sections that aren’t safe for fast speeds on the rig, due to rocks, roots, and tight corners around trees. Once there’s a nice base layer of snow, we’ll be able to cut loose with the sled.

In the mean time, we have plenty of other things to work on. We finally did some passing training with other mushers this past weekend. Roy Smith ran a few teams of his sporty stag hounds and Jordan Rode joined us with his solo husky for some bikejoring. It’s been so long since my dogs have had time out with other teams, I really didn’t know what to expect. I figured most of them would be fine, but Hubble has been my wildcard, Knox can be rude, and Denali has a habit of turning around to watch other teams approaching.

The main trail we started on was a sheet of ice, so brakes weren’t really an option unless we kept the teams all the way on the shoulder. Once we made it onto side trails, things shaped up and we did some leap-frog style passing. I kept a Baskerville muzzle on Hubble just in case he was snappy, but he showed very little interest in interacting with the other teams—ideal! Knox, on the other hand, shoved himself towards Roy’s dogs a couple times and barked. Luckily, he didn’t make contact or start any fights. Denali turned around to watch the teams when they were coming up behind us, but only for the first few minutes. After awhile, she got over it, and seemed eager to stay in the lead. It’s funny how the younger dogs (Laika, Hubble, Blitz, and Willow) were all perfect. I didn’t have to worry or correct them at all. It’s a good sign for the future of my team. I just have to hope that when Sagan and Hopper take over for Denali and Knox, they continue the good-behavior trend.

All in all, we did a handful of passes with Roy’s 6-dog teams and his ATV, as well as one pass with Jordan on his bike. Exposure to other teams also means other training tools—carts, ATVs, bikes, etc.—so I’m happy to see my dogs weren’t spooked by the ATV’s noise. Roy and I also stopped our teams side by side for a few seconds, and the dogs were mostly good. We avoided a potential squabble and kept moving, and the dogs ran very close together without a problem.

The only downside of the day came from an angry hunter. When we set out, there was a truck parked directly at the opening of the side trail we were planning to return on. We assessed and figured we could make our way around it without any issue, so we mushed on. When we made it back, another truck was parked perpendicular to it. We had enough room to pass on the right, but when we did, one of the hunters asked me something. I couldn’t quite hear and with Roy’s team coming up behind me, I tried to slow down enough to hear her without stopping, and the team pulled the rig up against one of their trucks. We didn’t crash into it or scrape it, but we did push against the bottom plastic part of the bumper. I kept moving and the truck’s owner came out in a huff.

Once I got the dogs settled at my own truck, I went back over to apologize for the chaos and made sure I didn’t do any damage (I knew I hadn't). It was abundantly clear that this particular hunter was pissed off at us for being there and not for touching his truck. I get it—it is hunting season. This is why I generally avoid running in the state lands this time of year, and especially on weekends. We very intentionally planned our run for late morning, knowing most hunters are out around dawn and dusk. My own neighbor politely asked that I run midday on our land so he can hunt, which I’m happy to oblige. What I don’t like is the implication that I shouldn’t be in the forest at all. I should note that the other hunters I spoke to were kind and actually interested in seeing the Tug Hill Challenge in February.

Despite this one bad interaction, the people of the North Country have taken me in as one of their own. Roy and his friend, Tom, came by and helped get my snowmobile running. My Twitter friends, Amanda and Jennifer, are planning a weekend in Saranac Lake this winter and I can’t wait. Niki, my fellow North Country newbie, has extended her ever-growing friend circle to me, and now I have plans for Thanksgiving. There’s a lot to be grateful for in this weird and wild place.

[likethetailofacomet]

Happier Times

Author’s note: I simply cannot stop thinking about Bastien, so enjoy this little companion chapter to Learning to Love Again. It’s also sort of a sneak peek at what’s coming in the follow up series to this train wreck, should I ever actually get us out of the mess I put us in. Anywho, just Bas reminiscing on his youth, inspired by @zaffrenotes OTP requests for : favorite non-sexual activity, who says “I love you” first, what do their family or friends think of the relationship, and what do they do when they are apart from one another. Thanks for being so interested in Bastien and Belle!! 

Pairings: Bastien x Annabelle, Jackson x Bianca, Drake x Claire 

tunes: D’Arline by The Civil Wars

i could get over you but please don’t ask me to just so you know you’ll always be the one

Settling into the driver's seat of the thickly armored car carrying Prince Liam and King Constantine, Bastien felt a slight wave of relief fall off of his shoulders as they pulled away from Applewood Manor. He found himself struggling these last few days, with focusing enough of his mind on his true duty of guarding the King and Liam, as his thoughts kept wandering to Drake and Claire. It was so important to him that Drake found happiness, and even more so that he'd be given a chance to keep it. He longed for happier times for the two of them- simpler times, where they could just be themselves, just Drake and Claire, no threats, no danger, no urgency. He longed for Drake to have what he almost had with Annabelle, what he'd wanted with her, what he'd planned with her, and to think of him being so close to that; to think of him and Claire finding one another and then being torn apart by their circumstances picked at his heart. There were old cracks that he'd tried to patch up, tried to cement over and seal; but thinking of Drake and Claire meeting the same fate that he and Annabelle had was like taking a jackhammer to those cracks and seams, and he found his mind wandering over the course of the drive back to the palace, to happier times with her...

Bastien had been afforded a rare week off as a reward for how his keen eye had caught something in the crowd at the Royal Regatta the previous weekend. His sharp attention to detail as he and Jackson did one last scan of the crowd before clearing the area as safe for the Royal Family, had likely saved the lives of the King and Queen and the two young princes; they'd apprehended three men in the crowd with weapons, Jackson sustaining a black eye from the scuffle, Bastien faring a bit worse with a broken shoulder. He'd be in a sling for weeks, but there were still things that could be done in the King's Guard- information to collect, press releases to go over- ways that he could be useful even without the use of both arms. Jackson admired his dedication, but insisted that he take a week, at least, to heal and spend time with Annabelle.

“That girl is special, Bas,” Jackson had said once after dinner at the Walker house. Bastien had brought Annabelle to meet his mentor and his family, Bianca, Drake and Savannah, now five and three, after about four months together. He was starting to feel strange about the fact that the two most important people in his life hadn't met yet. Jackson had been happy to hear that his young protege might be ready to settle down with someone, that he might be ready to start building what he and Bianca had built. Upon meeting Annabelle, it was clear that Jackson instantly liked her when she greeted him with a confident but casual handshake and warm eye contact. Bianca insisted that she sit next to her at dinner so that they could chat, and drew easy, comfortable laughter from the young woman with stories of the two men at the table. Savannah stood behind Annabelle's chair, mesmerized by her intricate braid, unable to stop herself from reaching out and touching it, leaving Annabelle promising to braid Savannah's hair, when it was long enough. The little girl absolutely beamed, running back to her mother babbling about wanting long princess hair so she could have long beautiful braids; even Drake, the sour little apple that he was at times, had a smile for Annabelle. She was Walker approved and Bastien felt an excited flutter throughout his body as he took in the sight of her fitting so seamlessly into the important parts of his life.

It was after that dinner, while he was driving her home, that he pulled off to the side of the road and turned to face her, heart hammering at the way the moonlight made her light blue eyes sparkle as they widened in surprise. “What are you doing, Bas?” she asked, her mulberry lips drawing into a quizzical , slightly open mouthed smile.

Bastien swallowed his nerves and reached across the console to grasp the back of her neck, pulling her quickly in for a kiss. The moment his lips found hers he felt even more strongly about what he was about to say. Her tongue slipped between his lips and his slid past hers, mingling together like magic. He breathlessly broke the kiss and she whimpered. “Bas?” her voice cracked with the unexpected way he'd stolen her breath.

“Annabelle,” he let his right hand slip to the side of her face, cupping her cheek. “I love you. I had to tell you. Right now. Because I know, right now.” He sucked in a little gulp of air and held it, waiting for her response. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his wrist and leaned into his touch, bringing her other hand up to straighten a piece of hair near his forehead, her fingers brushing his skin setting little fires there.

“You do?” she asked, hope, joy and excitement swirling in her tone.

“I do.” He nodded, his steady eyes on hers.

She drew him in for another kiss, this one slow and lingering, burning like embers instead of an inferno, feeling like forever instead of for right now. “I love you, too, Bastien,” she whispered, their mouths still pressed together. “I love you.” He kissed her back, stoking the embers slowly, keeping the connection until they'd traded the air in their lungs and were growing dizzy for a lack of oxygen. It was break apart or drown in one another, and while Bastien thought that would be a good way to go, he'd just started his path towards forever with her, and he wasn't eager to die so quickly. They basked in the way love felt and the way it changed how their names sounded coming from one another's lips for a  while before he pulled back onto the road and drove her the rest of the way home, steeling glances at her, at the way the starlight made her porcelain skin glow, at the way her chest rose and fell with a large contented sigh, at the woman he loved, on the first night that he told her so.

On the few occasions that the two of them had time together in the daylight hours, they would often take walks out into the countryside, bringing a blanket to sprawl out on when they'd come to some quiet meadow or the seclusion of a willow tree's curtain of green. Annabelle would bring her sketchbook and lay on her stomach, her red curls tumbling past her shoulders, her left eye scrunched up just so at the corners in concentration, as she focused on a flower or a bird, a tree, a boulder...or sometimes the strong jawline and silver eyes of the man beside her...while she masterfully captured her subjects, somehow giving them more life on the page than they had in the physical world. Bastien loved nothing more than watching her work, watching the way her fingers slowly became covered in charcoal as she made wide arks and  short, quick marks on the paper, using her pinky to blur and soften for shadowing. She'd inevitably touch her face, leaving a dark smudge somewhere on her forehead or cheek- usually due to her swiping a stray tendril of hair from her eyes. He'd watch her, watch how the sunlight turned her hair copper, how her toes would curl in the cool grass, how she'd hum to herself absently as she sketched. He'd watch and wait until she was done, then he'd pull her to him, his lips brushing to hers as he'd wipe the charcoal away with his thumb before leaving light kisses across her face, his stubble tickling her cheeks and stirring bubbly laughter from deep in her soul.

This was the first time he'd had so much time off consecutively, and as much as he wished he could still be on the job, still learning as much as he could, he respected Jackson's insistence that he take time off. He couldn't deny that he was looking forward to so much time with Annabelle, either. He'd been away for three weeks while the Royal Family traveled abroad to Italy and France on diplomatic visits before returning to Cordonia just in time for the Regatta. He didn't like being apart from her, but he knew she hated it even more, and with good reason. He knew how she worried when he was away, how she feared he'd be injured or worse...and she'd not be near by to come to his side...He knew she spent many nights sleepless; in her bed alone in her apartment at the beginning of their relationship, or now, in their bed alone in their tiny house, but always alone. Always lying there staring at the clock, waiting for a phone call that might put her heart at ease long enough to get some sleep. He knew she'd stay up long into the night, sketching and painting and trying to keep her mind from coming up with reasons that he hadn't called yet. He knew she'd jump as soon as the phone would ring- knew because of the immediacy in her voice as she answered. His heart would ache a bit at the sadness in her tone even as they discussed happy topics, knowing that no matter what, she'd worry until he came home. He knew she thought of her brother- about how he went to work one day, with his badge and his gun, and he'd not come home, and he wished there was some way to change that for her, but he knew there wasn't. He knew they'd been lucky that he'd not been injured sooner, but when she found out that he broke his shoulder in a fight with three armed would be assassins, she shook and cried and felt her fear wash over her in waves at the thought of how close he came to being in so much more danger, how close he came to so much more harm. She needed this week as much as he did, more, even, and he knew that Jackson probably knew that from experience. They spent each day that week in a different spot, Annabelle sketching and Bastien waiting to wipe the charcoal from her nose or cheek or above her brow. On Thursday of that week, they'd gotten caught in the rain. She shrieked and gathered up her sketchbook, shoving it under her shirt to keep it dry as he covered her under his good arm, laughing and feeling the raindrops wash away some of the stress that had grown since his injury. They turned to one another and kissed slowly in the warm, late spring rain, faces wet and breaths hitching with laughter and desire. Take a week, Jackson had said, you'll feel better if you do. He'd been right again.

He hoped that soon Drake and Claire would get much more than a week like he and Belle had gotten.  

Before he knew it they were pulling into the long drive leading to the Palace garages, and Bastien neatly tucked his memories away, filing them in the back of his mind. He'd need to be sharp as he was scheduled to meet with the security teams that had swept the palace, Beaumont Estate and Drake's cabin, and Annabelle had no place in that meeting. Even now, even so many years later, she was still such a weakness to him. The love she'd planted in his heart was still there, still flowering and growing despite her absence, it's thorns pricking him from time to time. She'd always be there, there had never been another and there never would be. He sighed as he straightened his tie and buttoned his jacket, all business, as he escorted Liam and Constantine to their personal quarters and strode to the meeting room to wait for Micah and the rest of the team. If he couldn’t have his own happiness, protecting the happiness of those he cared about was the next best thing. 

you always said you want me to be happy but happiness was having you here with me you’ll always be the one that’s standing in my way and that’s okay...

tagging: @ooo-barff-ooo @zaffrenotes @sleepwalkingelite @endlessly-searching-for-you @mind-reader1 @agent-bossypants @andy-loves-corgis @drakewalkerrosenberg @nekkidmolerat @indiacater @gardeningourmet @jovialyouthmusic @akrenich @notoriouscs @endlesstaylormckenzie @the-whiskeywife @roonarific @brightpinkpeppercorn @cordoniantrash

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Prompt: ARC, mother's day

Lena leaves behind a hole Ruby struggles to fill.

It’s hard, when her parents blame themselves and it’s all she can do to keep from joining them. While Ruby understands how it’s not quite their fault, and understands why Lena couldn’t stay, Ruby’s the one powerless to do anything about any of it, and it’s hard not to lay blame.

She emerges from her cocoon a few days after Lena leaves for Metropolis and tries to bring them all back to normal. Her parents fake it for her sake, and she fakes it for theirs, and together they fake an existence in an awkward, Lena-less limbo.

As May inches closer, Ruby’s anxiety cranks up. She knows what she wants to do months in advance, but letting her mom and Alex know is another thing entirely. She doesn’t want to be the one who shatters the normal they’re all faking.

Once April ends, every proposed distraction is a potential extravaganza. The new restaurant opens up across town, and Ruby suggests they go for family dinner– “and if you like it so much, we can make it our Mother’s Day spot!”

The Bare Naked Ladies come to town– “Oooh! Let’s do that for Mother’s Day!”– even though she knows they’ll be gone by then.

National City Parks Authority hosts a Mother’s Day naturefest (to celebrate mother earth), and Ruby balks. “Why don’t we go a weekend early, so we can skip all the crowds?”

At that point, Sam and Alex share a look, and Ruby knows the jig is up. Her stomach cramps into a nervous ball as her mom sets down her book and renders the softest gaze Ruby’s ever seen.

“Rubes, is there a reason you don’t want to celebrate on Mother’s Day this year?”

Ruby hesitates. A lump forms in her throat instead of words. She’d hoped to do this the easy way– celebrate first, then tell them why.

Alex’s gaze softens. “You know you can tell us anything, sweetheart. We won’t be mad.”

No, they won’t be mad. They’ll just be hurt. Betrayed. They’ll think she’s choosing sides, but she’s not that’s why she has to do this– “Iwannagotometropolisformother’sday.”

It comes out in a rush, and Ruby prays they don’t ask her to repeat it.

They don’t.

Neither of them say a word. Her confession hangs in the sudden quiet. Tears spring to her mother’s eyes, and Ruby rushes to explain before they fall.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be here with you– I do! I love you both so much, and I want to spend Mother’s Day with you, but… Lena’s my mom too!”

Tears spill down her cheeks before she can catch them. She can feel her face crumpling, lips pulling involuntarily into a frown that she tries to hide with her hand.

“She’s my mom too,” she repeats in a whisper, “and I don’t want her to be alone.”

It might have been Lena’s choice to leave. She might text Ruby every day, but Ruby knows Lena and loneliness are a dangerous combination. Deep in her heart, she worries that too long in Metropolis, too long in an empty penthouse, and they’ll lose Lena in more ways than one.

Her mom wraps her in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I think,” she says oh-so-softly, “that’s a great idea.”

When she calls Lena that night, the silence she thinks is a precursor to a refusal ends up being a marker of stunned surprise.

“Really?” Lena’s voice stutters across the line. Ruby laughs in relief, easily conjuring an image of Lena blinking at her in shock.

“Yes, really,” she confirms. She waits, and when no response comes, she grins. “So, can I?”

“C-Can you–? Of course, you can!” Lena finally recovers. “Your mom and Alex are okay with it?”

Ruby nods, then remembers it’s not a skype call. “Yeah, they’re okay with it if you are.”

The shaky breath that travels across the line echoes in Ruby’s ears.

“Then start packing, young lady. You’ve got a plane to catch.”

Apparently sending the jet would take too long, so Lena sends a first class ticket on a commercial flight instead, along with an unaccompanied minor badge that has every airline official tripping over themselves to ensure Ruby’s comfort. She enjoys ginger ale served in a champagne flute in the premier lounge, devilishly staring down anyone who looks twice at her.On landing, her phone buzzes with a message from Lena that someone will be waiting in arrivals to collect her. Ruby’s disappointment lasts only minute before she spots her name on a sign held by a familiar figure.“LENA!”Lena’s smile is blindingly bright as she laughs, staggering under Ruby’s fierce hug. Lena squeezes her back, and her hug makes the bones in Ruby’s shoulders squeak. It only tightens further when Ruby murmurs an ‘I missed you’ into her shoulder.“I missed you too, kiddo.”Ruby holds on as long as she dares, conscious of the stares they’re attracting. Lena’s thumb strokes her cheek for the moment it takes her to scan Ruby from head to toe with sparkling eyes. Her cheek-splitting grin is infectious, and Ruby doesn’t mind at all that Lena can’t seem to let go her.“C'mon, let’s get out of here,” Lena says finally, looping her arm through Ruby’s. Ruby lets herself be pulled in tight, cherishing the close contact after months of distance. “Hungry?”“Starving,” Ruby confirms dramatically.“Then it’s a good thing I know where all the best food is. What are you in the mood for?”

Half-sick off hot dogs and chili cheese fries, Ruby leans back in her seat with a groan. Despite her discomfort, she reaches for her milkshake. Still room on her dessert side.

“This reminds me of that day at the ice rink,” she observes contentedly. “Do you remember? You ordered just about everything on the menu trying to cheer me up.”Green eyes warm at the memory. “Of course I remember. I was surprised that I was the one you called.”“What? Why?”“Alex was already your hero, even then. And much more of a badass than me.” Red lips curl in a smile. “I also remember that my strategy worked.”Ruby laughs, tossing a crumpled napkin at Lena’s head. Lena catches it, and lobs it back at her. It bounces off Ruby’s nose and rustles to a stop in the remains of her chili.“Yeah, it did,” Ruby admits. There’s distance now, from that fearful afternoon when Ruby first got confirmation that something was wrong with her mom. Now, she can see why it was Lena she’d called, and not Alex. Even then, she’d known Lena would not only help her, but tell her the truth.“And for the record, I didn’t even think about Alex that day. I wanted you.”The admission seems to take Lena by surprise, just like when Ruby had expressed her intent to come visit on this weekend. In it, she sees the loneliness she knew she’d find.“I was honored you did.” Lena smiles. “Still am.”They sit for a while more, until the restaurant starts to fill up and it’s time to release their table. Ruby groans as Lena rises.“I’m too full,” she complains. “You’re gonna have to violet beauregarde me out of here.”Lena laughs. “I’m happy to roll you, but I draw the line at the oompa loompa song.”“Awwww,” Ruby whines. She forces herself to her feet when Lena tugs on her hand. “That’s the best part.”“Nice try, Miss Grape. Come on, we’ve got a baking show to catch up on.”

Their weekend is better than anything Ruby ever imagined. They catch a show, do high tea with finger sandwiches, and stroll through a street festival arm in arm, snacking on popcorn. The afternoon before she’s due back in National City, they sit in the park and play chess. Lena doesn’t let her win, but does draw it out long enough to be interesting.Ruby stares across the table as Lena gazes thoughtfully at the board. “Lena?” “Yes, honey?”“Are you happy?”The question breaks Lena’s concentration. Sharp eyes meet hers, but instead of snapping,  Lena only sighs. “Rubes…”“It’s a simple question.”Lena hasn’t lied to her once. Ruby doesn’t think she’ll start now.“No,” comes the soft reply. “But I’m getting by.”“Everyone misses you. Mom and Alex miss you so much, and I know they don’t get the daily texts like I do.”Lena reaches across the table and takes Ruby’s hand in hers. “I miss them too, but–”“Then please come home!”“Missing them isn’t enough, Ruby.” The softness of Lena’s tone cuts deeper than a shout. “I know what they did was wrong, but… you love them. And they love you. If you have that, you can work through anything, can’t you?”Lena regards her for a long moment, before getting to her feet. “Come with me.”They relinquish their table to the next players, and relocate to a secluded bench overhung by a pale-leaved willow. The walk fills Ruby with anxiety, but she senses that it gives Lena time to gather her thoughts.When they settle together on the bench, Lena turns to face her. “They still love you, Lena,” Ruby starts again.“And I love them–”“Then why–?”“Because I don’t trust them.” The truth rocks Ruby to the core. There’s no suspicion to it, just acceptance. It’s not what Lena thinks could happen. It’s already done. “I know I could go back to National City,” Lena continues. “I know it would make them happy, and I know it would make you happy. It takes everything I have not to.”Ruby’s throat closes against a steadily rising lump. “The reason I don’t is because as happy as you’d be– it’s not the example I want to set for you.”“What do you mean?”“I could have stayed. It certainly would have been easier. But when someone stays in an unhappy situation, it’s easy to accept the hurt someone deals you, and convince yourself it’s okay because you know they love you.

“But if there just one lesson I can give you, Ruby, it’s this: don’t let the love others have for you overshadow your love for yourself. Put yourself first, because no one else will.”

“You do,” Ruby points out. “You dropped everything to go to the rink when Mom disappeared– you’ve dropped everything this weekend just to spend it with me!”“But I’m not going back to National City.”There’s such finality in her words that Ruby freezes. As much as she understood, as much as she never blamed or argued what happened– part of her hoped. Part of her believed her parents would find a way to make it better.Lena snuffs out that hope with a single sentence.“The love others hold for you may change, or disappear, and it can tear you to pieces when it does,” Lena continues softly. “But if you love yourself, you can make it to your next happiness.”Ruby stares at her lap, fighting the tears burning behind her eyes. Lena clasps her hand, and Ruby curls her fingers tightly around her palm. “I understand if you’re angry with me…”“I’m not!” Ruby blurts. “I’m not, I’m not. I just– I want you to come home. Even if I can understand why you won’t.”Lena wraps an arm around her, and Ruby leans into her. “Thank you for coming this weekend. I may not be happy yet, but I’m happier when you’re here.”“So I can come back next weekend?”“Absolutely– if you can get your mom to say yes.”

Lena drives Ruby to the airport. Before she gets out, the three fingers of Lena’s right hand curl around Ruby’s wrist.

“No matter what happens, I will always love you, Ruby. Don’t ever forget that.”

Ruby reaches across the console, wrapping her arms around Lena. “Never,” she agrees. She closes her eyes, and inhales deeply the scent of Lena’s perfume, memorizing the familiar press of arms around her. It’s not goodbye– it’s just to tide her over until next time.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” Ruby murmurs. “Thank you for being mine.”

When she exits the car, she marches into the airport without looking back. If she does, she knows she’ll never leave.

Her mom picks her up at the National City kiss and ride with a too-broad smile.

“Hey, hon, how was Metropolis?”

Ruby responds with mono-syllables until her mom falls quiet. Alex meets them at the house, and Ruby runs the gauntlet a second time.

“The flight was fine,” Ruby mutters. “I’m just going to go rest, okay?”

Alex nods, sliding a look towards Sam. “Sure. We’ll call when dinner’s ready.”

Ruby ignores her suitcase in favor of flopping onto her bed and pulling out her phone. She opens her texting app, on the verge of sending a note to Lena before she stops.

She should send something simple. Home safe. But if she does, she knows she won’t be able to stop.

Miss you already.

Wish you were here.

Nothing is the same without you.

She closes the chat window and settles for choosing a new photo for her lock screen: one of her and Lena at the tea house, making goofy faces behind their teacups.

Dinner is thankfully quiet, but the kind of quiet Ruby knows won’t last.

“Ruby, honey?” her mom says finally, gently. “Did your trip go okay?”

Ruby’s throat locks up tight. “Fine.”

“Did something happen between you and Lena?”

Ruby’s control cracks. “No! No, it was– it was good. It was really, really–!” She hiccups, and the dam breaks.

The tears she’s been holding back since walking into the Metropolis airport come pouring out, and no matter how much she tries she can’t rein them back in.

Arms wrap around her, and she cries into her mother’s shoulder.

“I miss her so much!”

Hands stroke her hair, her back, offering comfort and knowing it’s not nearly enough. “I know, baby,” her mom soothes, holding her close. “I know.”

Ruby cries and cries, trying not to notice the way her mom’s chest tightens up to keep from joining in.

[swanderful1]

Duplicity: Ch 5/?

Notes: So.... it has been a long time since I updated this story. And I could list all of the reasons why, but I won't. Instead I will leave this chapter here and promise to do my best to get on a regular schedule with it again.Writing has always been and will always be a passion of mine, but it's easy for me to let day to day life get in the way of that. I hope you will continue to read and enjoy what I put out in this story (and others in the future) and I am forever grateful for all of the support.The next chapter will not take so long to be posted, that much I can guarantee, so stay tuned and let me know what you think! Thank you :)

A special, special thanks to my beta @resident-of-storybrooke who is a gift and also to @shady-swan-jones for the incredible art and also to @onceuponaprincessworld for keeping me accountable and reminding me to keep writing

Summary:  Secrets shroud the homes of the idyllic Willow Lane. Its newest resident, Emma Swan is no exception. In a place where perception is everything, the facade begins to crack. And Emma finds herself staring down the deep, dark secrets that the neighborhood was built on and that nothing is as it seems. Not even the blue eyed gardener.

Read the whole thing on AO3 and ffnet

For as long as Killian could remember he loved being on the water. It didn’t matter if he was in a canoe, a speedboat, or just swimming around he was at ease. He and Liam used to spend as many weekends as they could, off fishing in their favorite spot. A lake not far from Storybrooke that they had gone to as children. It was the only example of a vacation they had ever known. Their family never had much, so anywhere that required planes or trains was out of the question.

The day he had told Emma about the cabin, and how it had been the inspiration for what his current home looked like, was the first time he had ever said that sentence out loud. Making it all the more real.

All of that changed seven years ago. His comfort on the water completely disintegrated when Killian lost his brother. Liam’s death altered the entire course of his life and even now, standing near the small creek behind his house, he felt the crippling anxiety of being near water. Which was why it was surprising to him that he had even uttered the words aloud to her. To Emma.

It was Saturday morning, and the day was crisp. Overcast. Chilly. The warm April weather had shifted quickly, as it sometimes did in the northeast. So today he wore Liam’s old Storybrooke High sweatshirt. It was ripped and threadbare but it kept Killian warm. And his family didn’t exactly have heirlooms to pass down, so he kept their memory alive in little ways that he could.

An old tree sat, tall and gangly near the creek where his old fishing boat rested in the grass.

Old was an understatement, as the small boat looked as if it hadn’t been used in thirty years. Grass growing around it, like an ornate lawn sculpture that was intentionally planted there to make it look rustic.

From the creek he looked up at his modest home and compared it to the cottage he had once loved so much. The pitched roof. The simple stonework that made up the walls. The modest back porch with two rocking chairs where he used to sit every morning. The green shutters, where the paint was now peeling. He would have to redo those eventually. But it hardly seemed worth it. He had no neighbors and never any guests.

It was interesting to him how he spent his days making the outside of other people’s homes so lovely while his appeared to be falling into disrepair.

What he should do was sell the house. Between losing Liam and Milah, there was too much history. Too many ghosts lingering in the floorboards. And all of it was painful. At least the most recent ones were. It was why he hid in the apartment above Robin’s bar for so long, and why he went back there on weekends when he needed to not feel so alone. The one room, impersonal space with a stranger was about all he could bear.

A gentle breeze rustled the trees around him. His house was surrounded by foliage that had been there for years. And at one point he found it to be peaceful on a Saturday morning like this, when there was a chilly breeze bringing it all alive. But today all he felt was morose.

His phone rang, bringing his attention away from his general bad mood. The caller ID told him it was Will… and that the time was already almost 9 am. Bloody hell. He was going to be late.

“Top of the morning,” Will said on the other end. “Can I expect to see you at any point today or should I tell your friend you aren’t coming?”

“My friend.. What… who?” Killian was startled by the question. His friend couldn’t possibly mean….

“Mrs. Gold.”

Her last name is Swan, Killian thought to himself, but chose not to correct Will over the phone. The last thing he wanted to hear was the relentless teasing about Emma Swan. Who he found himself thinking of a lot, especially when he shouldn’t be.

“The pallet of bricks arrived at her house this morning and are good to be laid for next week, but she hates them…” said Will. “I told her you had said her husband already gave specific instructions about the brickwork…”

As much as Killian normally would have rolled his eyes and made some comment about the unimportance of the tile pathways, he softened a bit. He remembered the last time he had seen Emma, and how unsettled she looked. Like a deer in the headlights, in her own home.

That had been on Monday, and Killian hadn’t been over there since. Now that it was Saturday, he figured he had avoided checking in at the Gold project for as long as he could. It was hard, he felt torn between wanting to know everything about Emma Swan and wanting to keep a safe distance.

“Tell her I’ll be right over,” Killian said quickly hanging up the phone. He took one more look around his own backyard. There were no gazebos or hand laid brick. There were no intricately plotted flowerbeds. No fountains. But when he and Liam had bought the place all of those years ago, it had been the proudest day of his life.

So perhaps all of the memories here were not bad, perhaps he just had to work a bit harder to uncover the good ones.

The plumbing for the sprinkler system had gone in the front and the backyards during the week. When Killian’s truck pulled up to the curb, he could see his workers putting the wooden fence in place. It would all be fine if he avoided the place, he knew that. Still though he wanted to be there.

“There he is,” Will said removing his gloves and walking over to Killian. He had been making his way around back when Will had caught sight of him. “Thought I would have to take over the business if you didn’t start showing up here.”

“It’s a busy time of year, you know that.”

“I’m just glad you’re here,” Will’s arm pointed to the pallets of bricks that had been ordered weeks ago to be used in the yard. “She’s not pleased.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Killian said looking toward the house. Emma wasn’t outside so he would have to go to the door. He would use the back, safer from prying eyes that way. He caught enough shit for following her in on Monday, he didn’t need to amplify it.

The back porch was not as empty as he had last seen it. Gone were the empty moving boxes that had scattered the space that was now filled with furniture. A bench with colorful pillows and a small table with a candle on it. A yoga mat sat in the far corner with a dog eared book and a bottle of water. All of which he assumed belonged to Emma. He could oddly picture her out here, even amongst the chaos surrounding her yard.

She just seemed like one of those people who was immune to the insanity, but allowed it in her life anyway.

“Killian… hi,” Emma said when she answered the door. Her expression was surprisingly readable to him, if he didn’t know any better he would say she was happy. It was a stark contrast to the last time he had seen her. “I’m sorry to make you drive all the way out here, I know you’re probably busy…”

“Don’t worry, love, it’s my job.”

Her face fell a bit but not for long. In an instant she was back on, pleasant even and guiding him into the kitchen. Her long hair was tied in a braid that fell down her back, and she was dressed in jeans with a sweater in a lovely shade of pale pink. Everything about her reminded him of a doll, so poised and careful.

This time he felt a bit better about being inside her house. He wasn’t covered in filth from work, and he didn’t have on dirty work boots. Killian was still in his jeans and ragged sweatshirt. But it also meant he forgot to put on his gloves before coming to talk to her. He had left his truck so quickly he didn’t cover his prosthetic hand.

“I saw the bricks and they’re terrible…” she started, heading over to the circular dining table in the kitchen nook. The surface was scattered with her laptop and some papers and home magazines. Clearly she had done some research before arguing the yard’s design. “I found some other examples that I like better….”

“I see that,” he laughed. For someone who didn’t care too much about living here, she certainly managed to keep a pristine home and gather a lot of ideas. He tried to tuck his hand in his pocket to hide it from her view. In the gloves or in dim lighting he could normally get away with the fake hand, but he had forgotten to put on the gloves and it was broad daylight… so it was pretty obvious.

“I know Neal gave you instructions already but do you think we could use those bricks in the front and maybe this limestone in the back?” She pointed to an image of a lush backyard garden with a limestone path in grass leading to a bird bath. Her hands were so soft looking, her painted fingers gliding across the glossy page as her bracelets dangled.

Killian was uneasy. It had been her husband who ordered them in the first place, and if the Gold’s were as powerful as Killian suspected they were, he didn’t want to go against them. Even in such a seemingly small way.

“If it makes you feel any better, all of the homes on this street used those bricks for their pathways…” Killian chimed in. He remembered putting them in across the street at the Mills’ house and then at the Nolan’s and even at Ruby’s grandmother’s house. It was all part of the uniform structure that was the cul de sac.

Emma looked up at him, her green eyes were lighter today. Not quite so concerned as the last time he had seen her. From that alone he was relieved. It was interesting though that, even in her most relaxed state, she appeared caged. Like there was so much more she wished she could say and do.

“I can talk to him if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said finally. Behind her was the bay windows that looked out toward the backyard where he saw the fence being put up. Normally he would just allow the wife to start the fight, to bring up her dissatisfaction with the landscaping design choices the husband made, but the look in her eyes made him want to be the one to take that hit. “He can be tough to deal with.”

“It’s all right, I will make some suggestions,” Killian offered with a soft smile. Again, interpreting that she wanted to say more about her husband but biting back on it. “I may not be able to get him to agree on the front yard but perhaps the backyard could be negotiable.”

Emma smiled back at him. One that reached her eyes.

“Which tiles would you like me to suggest?” he asked, pointing to the magazines on the table. Not even realizing that he had used his prosthetic hand to do so. He tried to pull it away before she noticed but her head had frozen. And not on the clutter on the table. “I... um…”

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t realize…” she stumbled over her words, an adorable shade of pink highlighting her cheeks. “I would have never noticed, you usually wear the gloves.”

“Boating accident… when I was seven years old,” he said, catching her looking. He remained calm though, mostly because she wasn’t riddled with disgust or judgement. Emma’s face was simply kind in expression.

“I didn’t mean to stare…”

“It’s quite alright, love.” He took a step toward her, now they were only a few inches apart, as his prosthetic hand extended in her direction. She took it, with much trepidation, and other than the day he met her when they shook hands, this was the only other time they had touched.

Her fingers slowly traced the palm, the soft manicured tips dragging along the prosthetic. He felt himself wishing it was his real hand she was touching, but then again wouldn’t that be incredibly inappropriate?

“It doesn’t prevent me from doing anything.”

Emma considered him, her eyes searching his face. He turned away, knowing that if someone were to walk in right now it would be a horrible scene.

At the same moment, she seemed to also realize that the two of them had crossed a line. It was unspoken, not entirely obvious, but nevertheless the air in the room had shifted.

“So,” Killian cleared his throat, stepping slightly away from Emma. “The tiles. I will have a quote for you by the end of the day.”

“Perfect,” she replied. Her posture stiffened and she busied her hands with sorting the magazines on the table. Out of the corner of his eye Killian could see the fencework coming along, and while he could have let Emma Swan trace his palm all day he had no business doing that. “I’ll um, I’ll be around so just let me know.”

“Certainly.” His smile was terse and he knew it, forced. But hers was the same.

And as he headed back into the yard to continue doing his job, he wondered if Emma Swan was thinking the same thing that he was.

That night, after spending the rest of the day working in the Emerald Forest, Killian and Will plopped their arses down on two barstools for a well earned round of drinks at The Rose and the Thorn.

“What’ll it be, boys?” Robin joked as he poured their usual two fingers of rum into tumblers and slid them down the wooden bar.

Killian graciously took the glass and tilted it so the liquid coated his throat. It went down smooth, it usually did on Saturdays when he found himself planted on a barstool washing away the week. He twirled the empty glass in his hand, focusing on the surface marks from frequent use.

“Another?” Robin asked, pulling Killian’s attention away.

He thought on it, hesitating a little too long before setting the glass down for his friend to finish it.

“Ah, there he is, I hoped you weren’t getting lazy,” said Will nudging Killian on the shoulder. They both went through another round and then rose from the barstools to claim the dartboard before it got busy. The night was young, it had just gotten dark outside, which meant soon enough people would start pouring in.

“Don’t look now but someone’s already staring at you,” said Will, taking the darts from the pegs and handing them to Killian. Who looked in the direction Will was. “Hey, I told you not to look.”

“I’ve never been a great listener.”

Killian gave Will a sardonic look. This was all part of their normal banter for a Saturday night. It was the familiarity of it that Killian appreciated, because it wasn’t like he had a family with traditions or dinners. His friends were his family now.

“One of these days I want to trade faces with you… just to see what it’s like.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” Killian muttered while throwing the first dart, it landed just below the center.

“Oh don’t pretend.” Will threw the next dart. “You draw a crowd everywhere.”

“It’s just the dim lighting.”

“Normally you would have been over there in a heartbeat.”

Killian looked to the small table of young women, specifically the one who had also been looking at him. She was pretty, brunette, dark eyes, a knowing smile on her face. She was his type and someone that usually caught his eye, Will was right. He politely nodded and went back to his dart throwing. Robin brought them over another round and stayed for a drink of his own before the bar got busy.

They spent so much time at this bar because Robin owned it, and Ruby worked there also. They could all spend time together, but on nights like tonight when the place was packed to the gills it was hard to have any sort of quality time.

The air was thick, with all of the bodies packed in the tight space. Will had wandered off to talk to some girl who often spent her weekends in the bar. Which left Killian alone with his drink, he toyed with his phone and let his mind drift to when he used to spend his Saturday nights in the company of a woman he actually cared for.

The crowd drowned out many other sounds but it couldn’t quiet the voice in his head. The one that told him to stop using these distractions as a means to avoid opening back up again. It was so much easier to take the easy way out.

His eyes locked with a woman a few feet from him. Not the same from before, she was different. Her hair was long, it hung in curls down her back and it was a light blonde. He had to look twice, to make sure it wasn’t Emma. It wasn’t, the woman was beautiful certainly but she wasn’t a match. Not even close.

Killian downed the rest of his drink and made his way over to the blonde. Her hair was a few shades darker and her skin wasn’t the same smooth, fair complexion. Her eyes weren’t a striking shade of green. But if he was honest with himself, truly honest, he knew why he allowed himself to be drawn to her.

Sunday morning bright and early, Emma was throwing in a few loads of laundry. The basement of the new house was unfinished, for now, but that was where the washer and dryer were. So she spent an awful lot of time in the dark, cinder block space throwing in load after load of clothes.

The boxes that had been on the back porch were now down here, stacked neatly in a corner. Emma had decided to assemble the deck furniture on her own one night when Neal neglected to call before coming home.

That was the thing with him, he would make grandiose promises to her about the future, and then they would fall by the wayside as quickly as they had been dreamt up.

She had sorted out all of the delicate clothes, wanting to do some of those to save money on dry cleaning when she stumbled upon a pair of Neal’s pants with his house keys in the pocket. Emma rolled her eyes, if she had a dollar for every time she found something he had forgotten to take out she could have bought all of Storybrooke ten times over.

It was a small inconvenience for her, to have to check Neal’s pockets, but these days the tiny things were adding up to mean more and more.

Like the surprise party Neal was apparently planning in their backyard. The one that had kept Emma on edge for the past week. It was probably why she had snapped so quickly when the bricks had arrived. The ones Neal had picked without talking to her.

Was it odd that her first instinct had been to call Killian and not Neal? Well, that wasn’t something she was willing to dive into.

After doing the laundry, and thinking far too much about things she couldn’t control, Emma began to get dressed in the master bathroom.

And a car horn began honking. She was just about finished, securing her watch on her wrist, putting small gold studs in her ears, zipping the knee high brown boots she wore over her jeans.

Mary Margaret had asked Emma if she had any interest in going to the Storybrooke farmers market. And it seemed like just as good of an excuse as any to get out of her house. To get out of her own head.

“I got us coffee for the ride, it takes a bit to get into town,” Mary Margaret said when Emma climbed into her car. The steaming to-go mugs left an aroma in the car of coffee that was calming. The morning was chilly, and it felt cosy in the car. She wasn’t sure what it was about this woman, but everything about her felt like home.

“Thank you,” Emma said taking a cup and sipping it. “How far away is town?”

“Well, on a good day… twenty minutes but today probably closer to forty. There’s a lot of construction.”

There was a time when Emma lived within walking distance of a farmers market. That was a trade off of living in the wide open suburbs where she had to get into a car anytime she needed a gallon of milk.

The highway was sectioned off by large orange cones from all of the road work that was happening. Emma noticed a few other incomplete neighborhoods that she remembered Neal pointing out to her as the work of his father. Well… and now Neal she supposed.

The trees were few and far between as the housing developments took over and the landscape became more manicured. Row after row of box houses lined up ready for families to move in. That’s where Neal had been all weekend, working on some plumbing issue in one of the developments. She fixed her eyes elsewhere, on anything. An old gum wrapper on the floor, an air freshener hanging on the mirror, the name of the radio station on the screen.

Neal hadn’t been around since the brick incident. So he had no idea she was angry, no idea she felt like he micromanaged her even when he wasn’t there. But for her, it wasn’t so much the appearance of the bricks, it was more so that they were exactly the same as everyone else’s.

Emma didn’t consider herself to be particularly high maintenance, but one thing she didn’t like was falling in line with everyone else. Her whole life had been a rebellious streak where she continuously ran the other way from what was expected of her.

It was how she had run away from several group homes even though it would have been easier to just stay there quiet. It was how she had met Neal. In a bar, in a shady neighborhood, that took fake ID’s and let her in without so much as a second glance at 17. It was how she had run from him the second she found out he would be working for his father. It was how she had done it again when he told her they would have to move to Storybrooke.

The closer they got to the central city of Storybrooke, the more Emma felt intrigued. Where she was living was such a stiff, suburban complex but the town at the center was much different. The symmetrical neighborhoods and manicured shrubs turned to old townhouses and apartment buildings. Little sidewalks lined with unique, quirky structures where no two looked the same.

Young people flooded the streets, which were narrow and crowded. There were couples walking dogs, groups of friends sharing coffee on stoops, and cars parked all along the sides.

“I’m so terrible at parallel parking, that’s the one issue with coming to this,” Mary Margaret mumbled as she cut the wheel and backed the car into a narrow spot along the street. “They block off half of this street.”

Emma looked ahead at the wooden structures blocking off the roadway. Just beyond that she could see the farmer’s market bustling with people. The tops of white tents were visible and Emma could smell the fresh scent of donuts and sweets as she climbed out of the car.

“This is quite the operation isn’t it?” Emma said, taking in all of the activity. It was probably the most at home she had felt since moving here. She was a city person, always had been, and while it wasn’t Boston she was stepping into, it was a place that was different.

“I think you’ll like it here, there’s all kind of fun things to see,” Mary Margaret said, her steps on the cracked sidewalk falling in pace with Emma’s. “Thanks for coming along.”

Emma looked over at Mary Margaret. Her face and smile were soft, she wore a pretty blue sweater. Even though they hadn’t known each other for that long, she was one of the few people she had warmed to not just in Storybrooke but in years.

“Are you kidding? I love this kind of stuff.”

“You do?” Mary Margaret seemed surprised at Emma’s admission. “I only mean that you seem like you aren’t interested in the town much…”

She looked over at the dark-haired woman again, trying to gauge what she was getting at. Her soft face had gone concerned, her brows furrowing in on one another. Emma made note of how tense she herself had gone. Instead of holding onto that resistance, she let it go. Mary Margaret wasn’t being nasty, she was a nice person just scared to breach the guardedness.

It was then that Emma realized how good she had gotten at reading people.

They made their way through the crowd. Mostly young people perusing the various stands. Between the food options and the boutique tents there was a lot to see. Mary Margaret led them through the maze of people toward a restaurant on the corner. The front windows took up the face of the building and inside Emma could see people eating breakfast at the checkered cloth tables.

“I figured we could stop by Granny’s and grab Ruby.” Mary Margaret held the door for her to the sound of a ringing bell above. “She works Sunday mornings so she should be good to leave soon.”

“There you two are I was beginning to waste away here,” Ruby said from behind the breakfast bar. The brunette was tall, and clearly garnered a male following, the men at the bar stools eating the breakfasts right where she was polishing silverware. Her long legs were in a pair of tight red shorts and her hair was in two pigtails. She and Mary Margaret were night and day in comparison.

“Sorry, it took a while to get into town,” Mary Margaret took a seat on one of the swivel stools on the end, Emma followed. “You know how it is Sunday’s.”

“That’s why I get here at 6 am,” the brunette smirked as she polished off the last fork and walked over to take her apron off. Emma could practically hear the men at the counter sigh.

“Emma, this is Ruby’s grandma’s place, it’s a bit of an institution…”

“Yeah, years ago when the city started the revamp, some developer offered her big money for this place… to turn it into apartments. And she wouldn’t do it.”

Emma looked around. The place was certainly charming. It wasn’t massive, the whole space was cozy. Filled with booths and a jukebox, metal chairs and checkered floors. It was the quintessential small town diner, in a city that had exploded around it.

The swinging doors the led to the area behind the breakfast bar swung open, and much to Emma’s surprise, out walked Killian Jones. Looking more worse for wear than she had ever seen him.

“Morning sunshine,” Ruby said when she noticed him. He had hardly looked up. His black hair a raggedy mess, his eyes fixated on the cup of coffee he was pouring, his feet dragging on the floor. When he finally looked up his eyes landed directly on Emma and she felt her whole body spike in response.

“Rough night?” she said quickly, not knowing what else to say when his gaze was still aimed at her. He was in the outfit she had seen him in yesterday at her house. And now here he was on a Sunday morning, fresh off a one night stand. But why was that any of her business?

“I’ve had better,” he said back.

Emma realized they had company. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Ruby’s gaze, who watched on pensively. She wasn’t sure what pull she felt toward him or why, but it was something. Each time she saw Killian Jones, or thought of him for that matter, that tether got the tiniest bit stronger.

And she caught herself thinking of him more often than she would admit out loud.

“Last I saw you were twelve drinks deep buying another round for a bachelorette party,” Ruby chimed in thankfully, bringing the other two people into the conversation.

Killian’s right hand reached up and scratched behind his ear, a soft hint of red hitting his cheeks. Emma tried to picture him in a bar, buying drinks for women, maybe going home with one of them. And then she stopped there. For whatever reason, her imagination couldn’t go beyond that.

“The bar next door is owned by an old friend of ours,” Mary Margaret leaned into Emma’s ear and said.

“You can get there through those swinging doors,” Ruby pointed. Now she was assembling some sort of sandwich on a plate for Killian. It was an intimate act, prepping someone’s favorite food when they were worse for wear without them even asking. “I’m gonna grab my bag then I’ll be ready to go. Killian, eat something so you don’t look like a zombie all day.”

Ruby handed him the sandwich and almost immediately he leaned over the counter to dig in. His hands wrapped around the buttered biscuit on either side.

“I’m gonna run to the ladies room I’ll be right back,” said Mary Margaret before hurrying off.

Then it was just the two of them.

“I apologize for you having to see me in this state, love,” he said before taking another bite. His face almost immediately perked up at the taste of the greasy sandwich, a feeling Emma knew well. After a late night, a breakfast sandwich was all she ever needed. And back in the day it had been all she could afford.

“It’s ok, I recognize that face…” She used to look like that on Sunday mornings. Before becoming a housewife, she thought but chose not to add.

“Ah, well, I must have missed you out last night.” He smirked.

“Unless you were in my living room watching Lifetime movies, I don’t think we would have crossed paths.”

“Sounds far lovelier than anything I partook in,” he shook his head. Emma smiled, he was oddly an easy person for her to talk to.

“In fairness, this is your side of town, not mine. You were just doing what you do.” Emma didn’t necessarily want to know what it was that he did, and with whom but she tried to remain nonchalant as she toyed with the sleeves of her sweater that peeked out of her jacket. “Unless you don’t do this every weekend….”

He stopped chewing and looked her way, his facial hair grown longer than usual, his eyes foggy from lack of sleep.

“I try not to,” he offered. “Every other Sunday I don’t schedule myself any work.”

“Interesting…” Emma studied him, it felt like he wanted to say more. “That must be hard to do though, especially during this time of year.”

A beat went by, and Emma thought that would be the end of it. It certainly seemed like a nice end point for a conversation between her and her gardener.

“Every other Sunday I go to see my mum.”

“Oh.” It surprised even Emma that he said it. Mostly because he had told her he had lost his parents. “Does she live far away….?”

“It’s about a two hour drive from here.” He stood up, his sandwich gone and the coffee drained from the cup. “I can’t go that often…. She’s in… It’s complicated.”

“I get complicated…” Just as Emma was about to tell him he didn’t have to get into it if he didn’t want, their conversation was cut off by Ruby and Mary Margaret returning to the counter.

“Alright, let’s get me out of here, I’ve already worked a full shift and I need some food truck nachos,” Ruby said.

“Perfect,” Emma replied, standing up from the stool a bit too quickly. It made her nervous, that he felt so comfortable talking to her. Because she was starting to feel it toward him, and she had spent most of her life repressing that sort of thing.

“Killian seems to be doing a bit better these days,” Mary Margaret said a little later when the three of them were walking down a city block with a shared order of pulled pork nachos.

“He has his good days and bad days,” Ruby replied, eating a glob of sour cream off of her finger. “Sunday’s are always tough though, cause he goes to see his mom.”

“It must be brutal.”

“Is she sick or something?” Emma asked. She had never had parents, so she had no idea what it would be like to make a decent drive once a week to visit family. “He was saying it’s hard to visit her…”

“He talked about her with you?” Both Ruby and Mary Margaret stopped walking, their eyes locked on Emma who was not expecting that reaction.

She treaded lightly, nervous to say the wrong thing.

“Just a little bit, before we left the diner when you two weren’t there…”

“Oh,” Ruby said, falling into step again. “He just doesn’t bring her up much.”

Emma wasn’t sure why this felt like such a victory for her. Maybe it was because she enjoyed talking to him, maybe it was something beyond that. Either way she was starting to feel a comfort with Killian Jones that was unlike other dynamics in her life.

“I didn’t know his mother was alive, he had said before that his brother raised him. So I assumed his parents were both-”

“He talked to you about Liam?” The women stopped yet again to look at Emma like she had a third eye.

“Briefly.” Emma went on the defense. Her guard up even though Ruby and Mary Margaret weren’t threatening in any way. But the last thing she needed was her new friends worrying. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“His mom is in prison. For killing his father.”

Now Emma was the one staring wide eyed. His mother had killed his father?

“Ruby…” Mary Margaret interrupted.

“What? It’s public knowledge, if she wanted to look it up she could.” Ruby picked up another chip and ate it. “Besides, it seems he’s more open with her than normal.”

This thought made Emma squirm. Not because she didn’t like being around Killian, she did, but perhaps a little too much. Certainly too much for someone who was for all intents and purposes ‘married’ to someone else.

Later that night, as Emma returned to her new home on Willow Lane, she breezed past Neal’s car parked in the driveway and headed inside where she could already hear him on the phone with someone in his home office. She had stayed out with Ruby and Mary Margaret all day, enjoying the farmer’s market and then eating dinner at Granny’s after. Emma had to admit, it was probably the best grilled cheese she had ever tried.

The entire house smelled like fast food, and Emma crinkled her nose, not that she was opposed to it. Her career as a personal trainer didn’t prohibit her from being human and craving a greasy burger. But it was the mood that accompanied the whole thing. And all of the good feelings that had come as a distraction during the day, were gone.

When Neal caught sight of her from the office, she could see the greasy bag on the edge of the desk. Their eyes locked and his were only filled with contempt. Like he couldn’t fathom the idea of her not being there to cook him.

Ice shot through Emma’s veins at his stare. And then just as quickly as it had happened, it was gone. All of his focus went back to his work. As per usual.

Neal could run late, miss meals, birthdays, take calls at parties, and Emma would say nothing. But the second she fell out of step, he turned nasty.

It had been a while since she had seen it, and standing in the kitchen right now watching through the french doors as he ignored her, she was on her best behavior all the time without realizing it.

“I’m going to bed,” she said coldly, careful to make her steps extra heavy as she made her way upstairs to the bedroom. The sound of the office doors closing made her jump but she kept walking. Not that she would be sleeping anywhere near him tonight. Emma quickly changed and crawled into bed in the guest room.

Emma wondered what it would be like to curl into bed next to a warm body. It was something she felt herself wanting more these days than she cared to admit. Nowadays the only warmth she got was from her pillows.

She rolled over onto her side so she could see out the window. The sky was foggy, so she couldn’t see the stars. Emma reached her hand down between the mattress and the boxspring. For what she had found in Neal’s pants pocket earlier that day when she was doing laundry. The tiny plastic baggie that had been buried underneath his forgotten house keys. It was only a matter of time before he noticed it was gone.

The white powder glistened in the moonlight, the baggie resting between Emma’s fingers. Cocaine. It was his. It had to be. Why else would it have been in his pants pocket that he thought was going to the dry cleaner’s?

She had done her best to forget about it, all day but that was easier said than done. Emma had no idea what to do with it. For now, she would slip it back between the mattresses, rest her head on the down pillow. And for once, allow herself a few minutes to think that somewhere out there, a better life awaited her.

[marigoldbaker]

regarding honor and honesty in the workplace (3/?)

read on ao3!

this chapter: jenny does her best to balance being an efficient working mom with getting some intel from lilah regarding what exactly she’s been hired to do.

from the personal files of Jenny Calendar:

Faith is…a complicated story to tell.

Let’s start it this way. Around the same time that I was a bright-eyed, optimistic young detective in my early twenties, Faith had been placed in a foster home with way too many kids for the foster mom to realistically handle. I got called into the neighborhood on an unrelated case, and Faith took an interest in me because of my kickass detective skills and the fact that I’d been the only one to tell off her foster mother’s kid for stealing her belongings. She started following me around whenever I was in the neighborhood, to the point where I started making extra trips just because I wanted to see her.

The foster mother was a nice lady, sort of. I use the term “nice” to mean “simple,” here, because she had a very black-and-white view of the world and wasn’t able to see the nuances of Faith. Sure, Faith could be loud and angry, but Faith also picked me a bouquet of grass and weeds because she couldn’t find flowers and she wanted to give me something with at least one color. She was a very little kid who had had to deal with a lot in a small amount of time, and she wasn’t getting the kind of attention she needed at a home full of other children.

Honestly, I think Faith was the only person who was really surprised when I decided to go through the long and arduous process of adopting her. I kind of always knew that I wanted to have her in my life, from the moment she ran up to me and demanded to know if she could help me spy on her neighbors. It wasn’t an easy adjustment process for either of us, and there are still some rough patches today, but that girl means the world to me.

She wants to be a detective like me after high school. That or a martial arts champion; she takes classes on weekends and she’s still trying to decide. I pointed out that she could do both and make herself a great protagonist for a quirky detective sitcom, and she said “Mom, don’t patronize me,” in a very self-suffering tone of voice that I’m pretty sure she picked up from Buffy.

I try not to push her to share too much, because I know she really values her privacy (funny that she ended up getting adopted by a detective, of all things) and she tends to share things with me when she feels ready. So whatever this thing is about Wolfram and Hart, I think it’s definitely best for Faith that I wait a while on finding it out.

Definitely doesn’t stop me from worrying, though. I think I’m going to go make Faith some soup.

“Hey, Lilah, this is Jenny Calendar,” Jenny began, holding her phone to her ear with her shoulder as she stirred the soup on the stove.

“Private detective Jenny Calendar?”

God, Lilah’s voice sounded sexy even with Jenny’s shitty reception. You’ve got it bad, Calendar. “Yeah, um, my kid came home from school sick and I really have to stay home tonight and take care of her,” Jenny explained, acutely aware of how un-sexy that probably sounded to someone like Lilah. Maybe that was good, though, because Jenny wasn’t generally into people who weren’t okay with Faith. This could serve as some kind of a litmus test.

“Your kid,” Lilah echoed, as though storing away this new information. “All right. Is your kid going to be sick tomorrow too?”

“Hold up.” Jenny placed down the soup spoon, took the phone in one hand, and hurried to stick her head into Faith’s bedroom. “Honey, you want me to stay home tomorrow?” Faith hesitated. Jenny knew from experience that hesitation generally meant a secret yes. “Yeah, I’m staying with her tomorrow too,” she said, smiling encouragingly at Faith as she headed back to check on the soup.

“Well,” Lilah drew out the word, “after tomorrow, my schedule’s pretty much booked till Saturday, and I really want to get started on this case. I hate to impose, but would it be all right if I stopped by tonight to at least give you some research material?”

Jenny had to really consider this question. Faith’s immediate reaction to the phrase Wolfram and Hart made Jenny think that she wouldn’t react all that well to a Wolfram and Hart lawyer in the house. On the other hand, the money from the Whirlwind case wouldn’t last forever, and Jenny needed to make sure she had a way to buy things like soup and tea and healthy foods. She didn’t want Lilah to lose interest and go to another client, so—

“I’ll give you my address,” she said. “Text me when you’re in the lobby and I’ll meet you as I’m going out to buy groceries.”

“Didn’t realize you were into illicit encounters,” said Lilah, sounding amused. “Can’t say I’m not into it.” She hung up.

Jenny, somewhat flushed, let out a shaky, pleased breath, leaning against the kitchen counter and coming very close to catching her blouse on fire. She only sort of noticed. “Damn,” she whispered, grinning, and turned back to the soup.

Faith liked vegetable soup, specifically the made-from-scratch kind. She pretended she liked the stuff from a can just because she knew it took Jenny forever to make homemade vegetable soup, but Jenny had learned (through a trial-and-error process and, later, through a cooking class with Rupert) how to cook because she knew it made Faith feel cared for. Jenny stirred the mixture a few more times before ladling some of the soup into a bowl. Placing the bowl onto a tray with a glass of water, she picked the tray up and carefully carried it into Faith’s bedroom.

“I feel so important,” said Faith with a weak grin.

“You totally are.” Jenny kissed her on the cheek. “Rest up, okay? I’m going to go drive out and get some orange juice for tomorrow morning.” She tucked the blankets more securely around Faith before reluctantly exiting the room. “Call me if you need anything,” she added over her shoulder, “as soon as you need anything, don’t ever not call me if you’re not feeling okay.”

“Gotcha,” said Faith, sounding amused. “I’ll make sure my helicopter mom’s got a landing pad.”

Jenny was still smiling as she headed into her bedroom. Much as she loved wearing at-home clothes and getting to relax, she definitely wasn’t going down to meet Lilah Hot-As-Hell Morgan in sweats and a Sunnydale High t-shirt. After a good five minutes of careful deliberation, she selected a dark red blouse and slacks, combing out her hair so that it fell softly at her shoulders in a way Buffy and Willow liked to call “teacher chic.” She was halfway through applying lipstick when she got a text from Lilah.

in the lobby, u coming down? xx

Jenny gave herself a last, cursory glance in the mirror. Not exactly “alluring, polished detective,” but she was pressed for time and her kid was sick, so it was still pretty good given the circumstances. Donning a pair of low-heeled shoes, she hurried out of her apartment and over to the elevator.

When the elevator doors opened, the first thing Jenny saw was Lilah. She was waiting in the lobby, leaning against the wall and presumably texting someone. Her hair was swept into a stylish updo today, and when she looked up, her eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses.

Damn, thought Jenny again. Aloud, she said, “Glad you could make it.”

Lilah inclined her head in response. Without a word, she turned, exiting the lobby; Jenny had to hurry to follow and fall into step. “I’m sure you’ve discovered by now that Wolfram and Hart is impossible to research,” she said, pocketing her phone as they walked in the direction of a shiny black car. “A lot of work is putting into making sure that their credentials check out in court, but that any and all press about Wolfram and Hart never makes it to print.”

“Why would they want that?” Jenny inquired carefully.

“You’re a smart lady.” Lilah stopped in front of the car, clicking a button on her keys to unlock the door. “I’m pretty sure you already know the answer.”

“I’m pretty sure I do too, I just want to hear you say it first,” said Jenny smoothly, getting into the front seat of Lilah’s car.

Lilah smiled in a way that told Jenny that this was the right thing to say. “Wolfram and Hart doesn’t take on just anyone as clients,” she explained. “If they were known as some kind of prestigious law firm with a reputation of winning all their cases, they would be getting a lot more clients and attention than they wanted. They pick and choose the people who they help out, and those people are always on the wrong side of the law.”

“So Wolfram and Hart wants to protect the bad guys of Los Angeles,” Jenny said, almost a question. “Why?”

“Simply because it’s an incredibly profitable and useful business,” Lilah answered, surprisingly blasé for such a morally awful statement. “They don’t help just any pickpocket or cat burglar, Ms. Calendar; they make sure that their time and money is invested in people who will pay them back later. Maybe it’s in favors, maybe it’s in money, maybe it’s in some rare artifact that a high-up executive feels like bringing up as a conversation piece at dinner parties, but Wolfram and Hart works in the shadows to make sure that the crime in Los Angeles doesn’t go away.”

Something about that sentence struck Jenny as unpleasantly familiar. She mentally filed it away for later contemplation. “Do they use different names in court?” she asked. “Is that how—”

“Oh, no, they’re ridiculously up-front,” Lilah replied, reaching into her bag and handing Jenny a neatly typed list. “Here.”

“And this is?” Jenny scanned the list. Cordelia Chase, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Tara Maclay…

“These are people who Wolfram and Hart want out of the way,” said Lilah. “They know things that could be very dangerous to the firm’s future as a whole, and it’s very likely that Wolfram and Hart is going to try to swoop in and silence them before they can say anything incriminating.” It was impossible to see her eyes behind the sunglasses, but her voice was hesitant and earnest. “They’re good people, Ms. Calendar.”

“So my job is to what, protect these people?” said Jenny uncertainly. “I don’t know if that’s something I can do all that easily.”

“Your job is to locate them and get them to come to Los Angeles, because they sure as hell won’t trust someone like me,” Lilah’s smile faded, becoming something more nervous yet still strangely calculated. “Ms. Calendar—Jenny—I know this isn’t the easiest thing to believe, but I really do want to do good for these people. I have connections. I can at the very least protect them until Wolfram and Hart turns their attention elsewhere.”

“Lilah—” Jenny began.

“I want to get these people to testify against Wolfram and Hart,” Lilah persisted. “They’re the only ones who can take down the company, or at least start some kind of a process to expose it for what it is.”

“This isn’t the kind of thing that I—”

“Please,” said Lilah, and took Jenny’s hand, removing her sunglasses to look at Jenny with long-lashed eyes the color of sea glass.

Unconsciously, Jenny drew in a sharp breath. Lilah’s hand was soft, the fingers long and elegant. Touching her felt like a dizzying electric shock, and, and— “Yes,” Jenny said, only half-aware of what she was agreeing to. This case was a bad idea, probably, if she was already so smitten by this gorgeous mystery of a woman. “Yes. I—I’ll do my best, but I don’t know what I can promise.”

“That you’ll try.” Lilah smiled, beautiful and unreadable once more. “Honestly, Jenny, that’s enough of a promise.”

“Sexy hand-holding.” Rupert sounded very close to laughing.

“How about you shut up?”

“You called me, dear,” Rupert reminded her, “using the exact phrase ‘sexy hand-holding,’ I am allowed to make as much fun of you as I like.” He hesitated, then, “But Faith’s all right?”

“Doing better.” Jenny glanced affectionately over at Faith’s closed bedroom door. “She fell asleep right after she finished her orange juice.”

“Dawn wants to make her a get-well card,” Rupert said fondly. “You’re sure you don’t want me to come over? I can help make soup. You’ll recall—”

“Yeah, yeah, that one time I blew up the microwave trying to reheat a Hot Pocket, you’re literally never going to let me forget that, right?” Jenny leaned against the wall, smiling. “Look, mostly I just wanted to call you to check and see if we could work on the case at my place tomorrow. Faith’ll probably be okay, but—”

“Certainly.” Rupert sounded peaceful and happy, which meant that his kids were probably asleep too. “I can bring soup over.”

“No way, England, I am not having you busting your ass to make soup and drive here at ten PM—”

“Then don’t call me and tell me your daughter’s sick, Jenny,” said Rupert, as though this was blatantly obvious.

“I was calling you to tell you about the sexy hand-holding and the reason I didn’t go to Caritas!” Jenny objected with a laugh. “Look, just, just don’t worry about the soup, okay? I have stuff here, Faith’s going to be crashed on the couch watching movies, just bring over some old case files so we can go through and research the people on Lilah’s list. Or, you know, bring a laptop.”

“You know how I feel about laptops.”

“Yeah, yeah, technophobic Luddite, I know.” Jenny stared out the window of the hallway, looking out at the starlit sky. “Thanks for this.”

“Of course,” said Rupert softly. After a moment, he cleared his throat awkwardly and added, “Get some sleep, all right?”

“You too, Mr. Giles, don’t think that you can fuss over me so much that I forget to look out for you,” Jenny teased. “Let’s say you show up at noon with research snacks and whatever you need to search people up, and I make us a late breakfast?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Rupert agreed. “Goodnight, Calendar.”

“Goodnight, Giles,” Jenny said. She waited for a few more seconds before hanging up; Rupert never hung up before her, and she liked knowing that he was still there on the other end of the line. Then, after she’d hung up, she added, “Snob,” to make herself feel a little less like she was being cheesy and sentimental. Turning away from the window, Jenny pocketed her phone before quietly entering Faith’s room.

Faith was sound asleep, still; she’d fallen asleep halfway through an episode of one of her paranormal mystery documentaries and she hadn’t paused it. Carefully, Jenny turned off the laptop, tucking Faith in and smoothing down her hair. Faith stirred, but didn’t wake, making a sleepy, contented noise and moving towards Jenny’s touch.

“Night,” Jenny whispered, and placed Faith’s laptop safely on her desk, turning off the light as she left the bedroom.

She’d fallen into a holding pattern, these last few weeks, just waiting for someone to walk through the door with a case. She hadn’t been expecting someone as brazen and flirtatious as Lilah, someone who so easily left her breathless, and she certainly hadn’t been expecting Lilah to have a case this genuinely intriguing. Rupert, always cautious, still seemed somewhat unwilling to take Lilah’s words at face value, but Jenny wanted to believe that this kind of thing could be her big break as a detective. This could be the case that helped her make a difference in the world.

Suddenly, abruptly, Jenny was reminded of the last time she’d felt this kind of hope, and she realized just why Lilah’s earlier words had sounded so familiar.

Wolfram and Hart works in the shadows to make sure that the crime in Los Angeles doesn’t go away.

“Darla,” said Jenny, quietly, so as not to wake up her daughter. “Darla got that light sentence,” and she ran for her laptop. Sleep would have to wait.

[carasueachterberg]

Sometimes it’s really easy to foster. Sometimes it’s not.

Willow has been one of our easiest foster dogs to date. Absolutely housebroken, wonderfully crate-trained, not overly-chewy (except stuffed animals). She loves our visitors, tolerates visiting puppies, and listens in an I-will-do-anything-you-ask-especially-if-you-have-a-treat kind of way.

Little Zander is also one of the easiest foster puppies we’ve ever had. A house-broken, mild-mannered, relatively calm puppy who’s worst habit is his penchant for shoes.

So, I didn’t hesitate to leave my 15-year-old in charge of the foster dogs, plus Gracie and Frankie overnight last Friday. Nick and I headed to New Jersey to see our daughter perform in a benefit showcase. We would stay over and pack her up the next day and bring her home from college.

I left Ian a list of instructions and even measured out the dogs’ meals and labeled them so he wouldn’t be confused.

No worries, right?

Except Willow was spayed on Thursday. And by Friday night was having an intestinal reaction to her meds. All over her crate.

I was informed of this via cellphone during the intermission by my tired and angry child who had just gotten home from an Invitational track meet where he didn’t throw very well.

It was late. The last thing he wanted to deal with was a s%#t storm in a dog crate. He assured me that Willow was acting normal otherwise, begging for her dinner and jumping all over him in her excitement to see him.

I gave him the most long-distance sympathy I could muster and then said, “Just put the crate on the porch and let her sleep in the kitchen.”

I figured I could clean it up when we got home the next morning. I understood his anger, but I also worried about my best girl who I was certain was not only uncomfortable physically, but felt awful about the mess she had made. Willow is the type of dog who cowers whenever anyone raises a voice or even speaks in an angry tone. I was certain Ian had a few choice words for her when he arrived home to the mess.

At breakfast the next morning, I worried when we still hadn’t heard from Ian. The dogs were used to getting up at six. It was after eight when he called. Willow was still having intestinal issues. Only now they weren’t confined to the crate. They were all over the kitchen. I gave him a quick this-is-how-you-mop-the-floor lesson and reminded him of how deep he was in debt to us since we forked over serious funds for his latest computer.

Tough weekend for Willow and Ian.

On the plus side, Zander had no accidents.

And we got Addie all moved home.

On Sunday, Zander and Frankie and Edith(!) charmed a troop of girl scouts as we held our first K9&Kids program and helped them earn their pet care badge.

I love this program because it not only educates kids on how to safely care for and interact with dogs (the number one reason a dog is returned is because it bit a child. And 90% of those bites could have been prevented.), but it also shines a light on dog rescue and the good dogs that we have saved.

The PA program is up and running, and a northern MD group is getting ready to launch, so if you know a group of kids (library, church, scout troop, school) who might benefit from a K9&Kds program, let us know. Or if you’d like to volunteer with either of these groups, shoot me an email and I’ll get you connected.

Last night Frankie started his “Canine Good Citizenship” class (he graduated from manners top of his class!) in the hopes of passing the exam at the end of the month.

I’m not holding out too much hope. Nine out of ten of the requirements he’s more or less already mastered, but there’s one that is seriously tripping him up. It’s the don’t-jump-in-people’s-faces-and-lick-them requirement. (It’s called something else, but that’s the jest of it.) We’ve got three more weeks to master it. My mantra is, “Four feet on the floor at the door!” I’m looking for visitors to practice on, so feel free to stop by and test his progress.

Thanks for reading!

If you’d like to know more about my blogs and books, visit CaraWrites.com or subscribe to my monthly e-newsletter (next issue comes out in a week and has lots of giveaways!)

If you’d like to know how you can volunteer, foster, adopt or donate with OPH, click here. And if you’d like more regular updates of foster dogs past and present, be sure to join the Another Good Dog facebook group.

I love hearing from readers, so please feel free to comment here on the blog, email carasueachterberg@gmail.com or connect with me on Facebook, twitter, or Instagram.

 Best,

 Cara

COMING AUGUST 2018 from Pegasus Books (Available for preorder NOW on Amazon!):

Preorder available NOW on Amazon!

    Sometimes it's Easy and sometimes there's a s%*t storm. You just never know. #fosterdogs #togetherwerescue #anothergooddog Sometimes it’s really easy to foster. Sometimes it’s not. Willow has been one of our easiest foster dogs to date.

[awesimz]

Hi guys, welcome to my Sims 4 “Differences in the Family Tree” legacy, which came about solely because my Sims 3 game keeps shitting out on me and I have finally run out of fucking patience, lol. TS4 runs so much faster on my PC anyway, and while I do miss the open world aspect, I can’t deny there’s something very pleasing about not lagging 24/7, lmao. This legacy has also been paired with the mini challenge “Runaway Teen”, but it’s pretty much only relevant during this episode so it’s not that big of a deal. I honestly just wanted more of a challenge.

At the moment, the only expansion pack I have is City Living, and the only game packs I have are Parenthood and Outdoor Retreat. 

Now, without further ado, let’s begin our little story :)

Meet Serah, our founder. After growing up in a household that was extremely controlling to the point of near suffocation, she ran away as a teen to finally find freedom from her oppressive parents. It was a spur of the moment decision, and while Serah desperately craved independence, she also wasn’t aware how hard it would be to strike out on her own. She crossed a few towns before finally settling down in Willow Creek, attempting to keep under the radar so that her parents wouldn’t find her and bring her back home.

Unfortunately, keeping under the radar meant that she couldn’t enroll in school, and because she couldn’t enroll in school, it meant her future job prospects were going to be very limited. More than that, being on any kind of pay roll could put her name back in the system, which would make it easier for her parents to find her. Therefore, Serah figured her best bet was to attempt to live off the land.

It... was probably going to take awhile until she started catching anything of quality though.

At least she looks pleased with herself.

She started her garden on a little patch of land she found on the outskirts of town though, knowing she would have to do more than fish to get by. (Also the damn thing is her LTW and the entire basis of the first part of this legacy challenge, so there’s that haha).

She also started digging up what she hoped were ‘treasures’ every chance she got, because right now she was sleeping on benches outdoors or couches in karaoke clubs and lbh, that shit was hell on her back.

Also it’s kinda just plain sad.

The park was easily Serah’s favorite place to hang out though, as it had not only all sorts of ways to make money, but it also gave her an opportunity to socialize with teens her own age.

Cassanda: So you’re, ah... not from around here, right? I haven’t seen you in school.

Serah: Yeah, I’m just passing through. My family’s moving to the city, but we stopped here to visit my grandparent’s first. It’s all pretty boring, which is why I’m hanging around here.

Lies.

She didn’t need Cassandra going home and telling her parents she met a homeless girl though.

Okay listen some of these frogs are actually worth a pretty penny, I’m surprised.

Which is why she can finally afford...... a bed, a trash can, and two whole walls. lmao.

GIRL YOU ARE IN PUBLIC WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

Also side note - is there a way to make them stop walking around in towels after showering at the gym cause this is ridiculous. Manually having to change her myself is tedious. 

Lola: Hey so... my friend Cass tells me you’re just here visiting your grandparents, right?

Serah: Yeah, I think I’m only gonna be here for a few more---

Lola: Oh, come on, don’t lie to me! I live near where you’re camping out, you know! I saw you when I was taking one of my long walks to get away from the crushing despair that will soon be my future, and you definitely weren’t visiting any one. In fact, you looked like you didn’t want to be seen.  Serah: Alright... fine. But if I tell you the truth, you can’t tell anyone. Swear? Lola: Swear.

Serah: So basically my parents are soul-crushing assholes that won’t accept that their child could be anything less than what they deemed to be fit, so I got the fuck out of dodge. I’m dirty, I’m poor, and I will probably never have a real job as long as I live, but fuck it, at least I have my freedom. Lola: ...Wicked.

Yeah, sure, if you enjoy living in poverty it’s totally cool, lol.

The next day, Serah received some visitors.

Serah: Uh... hi?

Serah: Listen, not to be rude - especially since all of you are pretty hot - but if any of you guys’ parents find out about me, I’m seriously fucked. Ya’ll are drawing way too much attention to me right now. Lola: Girrrrrrl, don’t even worry about it; this side of town is our regular hangout; a bunch of teenagers chilling on one lot won’t make anyone bat an eyelash. They’ll just think we found some abandoned shack to make into some kind of silly ‘clubhouse’ or something.  Cassandra: Wait, what do you mean, ‘find out about you’? I thought you were just passing through. Serah: *sigh* Never mind. And it’s not a--! Okay, maybe it is a bit of a shack.  Cassanda: ......I’m still confused. Lola: That’s not a surprise.

Serah: Hey! You though, you look fabulous; and slightly less crazy than everyone else that just wandered into my sad excuse for home. Save me?

Malcolm: Oh honey, if you only knew. But no, just count yourself lucky that people give enough of a shit about you to come by. Not all of us have that.

Serah: Uh, hello? Me, standing right in front of you, offering for you to stay and chill for a bit. There are literal actual shits being given right now. I mean, I might not know you, but fuck it, I don’t really know anyone really in this neighborhood, and if I’ve just gained some sort of posse we need a token gay guy. Malcolm: I’d take offense to that if it wasn’t so disastrously true. You all are in some serious need of my wisdom anyway, and this desperate bisexual vibe you’ve been giving off needs an actual direction. I have a friend of a friend that might be interested. Give me a minute. Serah: You know... I’d be offended too if ‘desperate’ wasn’t entirely accurate. I really need to get laid; it’s been a hard af week.

Serah: Oh... okay, wow. You’re pretty.

Serah: You wanna go to the Romance Festival with me? I know that’s forward as fuck, but I don’t know how to play coy, so. Tanvi: I kind of like the direct approach, honestly. Sure, I’ll go.

Serah: What is this, exactly? Tanvi: Idk, probably drugs. 

Tanvi: You are... pretty fucking hot though. Malcolm said you had this homeless, idgaf rocker chick-chic vibe going on, but it’s so much more than that. Serah: I’m smooth af, I know.

Tanvi: *chuckles as she gets her hands kissed* Sure, we’ll go with that.

She is a bit though, isn’t she? Haha. Then again, they were drinking romance drugs or whatever the fuck they ingested to get in the mood, so really it’s just like they were both roofied. Nice things to give to kids, there, EA.

One of my favorite things about festivals coming into town though is that all of the flowers and produce have regrown themselves and are able to be stolen harvested, which gives Serah a nice little boost to her wallet.

Which means she can get two more walls and an actual toilet! Yay!

She’s getting better at fishing too, which I’m glad for.

Oh! And look what she found! I wasn’t paying much attention to where she got it from because she was on a digging/fishing spree through the park and I didn’t notice it in her inventory until she came home, but I’m excited. I’ve never had a cow plant in any of my games before.

Eric: Hey, you look to be about my kid’s age; maybe you know him? His name is Blake.

See, and this is why we do not socialize with adults; not even when stopping by the vendors to get something to eat.

Serah: *nervous laugher* Uhhh, actually I’m home schooled, sir. So no; pretty sure I don’t know your kid.

Eric: Ah, well that’s okay. You know, me and my wife thought about home schooling our Blake, but then we realized we didn’t want to spend that much time with our kid. It’s gotta be hell on your parents, yeah? Always having you hanging around? Never having a break?

Serah: No offense, but you sound like a shit parent. Eric: That’s what the gremlins in our house say too, funny enough. Serah: Errrrrrrr....

Girl, just gtfo. Lol. 

Anyway, we give you this brief interlude while Lola crashes Serah’s pad again to give you... her garden! It’s getting bigger :)

Lola: Giiiiirl, I just had the best idea. Serah: What is it?

Lola: Camping trip partyyyyyyy!!!! You in????? Come on, tell me you’re in; it’s not like you have anything better to do; let’s be fair. 

Serah: Uh, aren’t ya’ll in school still? Lola: Seriously? We graduate in two days; that’s the whole reason I want to throw this! Like a ‘coming of age, one last time to get completely hammered and make bad decisions party.’

Lola: I know you didn’t go to school with us, but everyone loves you. Actually, everyone kind of loves you more than me.... so I’m gonna need you to make the call, k? Also btw I think everyone’s caught on to your lie of ‘just passing through’ since it’s been awhile and you’re not only still here, but still hanging out at this shit shack. I don’t think anyone cares though, so just call for me? Serah: .........Fuck it.

Serah: Malcolm? Grab everyone; we’re going camping this weekend.... Yes, there will be showers there, calm down. But also don’t bring hair gel; it’ll probably attract mosquitos or some shit. Also you’ve probably caught on to the fact that I’m homeless by now, so can you bring a tent? I’m poor af, clearly.

And so they all went camping, and had a pretty good time. The truth did eventually come out to all of them though, and everyone promised not to say anything. Even though they were all about to become adults soon and it probably did not matter as much after that, Serah still worried that should her parent’s find her, even as an adult, that they’d drag her back home by her hair.

Anyway, they not only had the good, wholesome kind of fun....

...But they also had the decidedly less wholesome kind as well.

(I think Malcolm had one too many to drink, haha).

Lola: Sooo... you gonna do it this weekend or not? Serah: Do what?

Lola: Make it official with Tanvi, obviously. You’re blind as hell if you haven’t noticed that she’s been waiting. Serah: Wait, seriously?

Serah: I mean, you really think I should? I live in a shack and I garden for a living; that’s not exactly setting her up for an adulthood filled with glamour. Lola: You idiot, she doesn’t care about that. Just go talk to her.

Serah: So you know you’re like... so pretty, right? And down to earth, and... and a whole lot of other stuff that I don’t want to list out cause I’m gonna sound stupid.

Serah: But do you think you maybe.... wanna be my girlfriend? I know I’ve got a shit future ahead of me, being uneducated and all, but I’m hoping that’s not something you really care about right now because if you do I don’t got a Plan B, so.

Tanvi: *laughs softly* You idiot, I don’t care at all about that. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.

(Well, Lola hit it right on the money, didn’t she?)

Awww :)

Of course they gotta take that obligatory FB photo so they can update their relationship status with a pic, lmao.

Serah: Consummate the relationship with me? Tanvi: I thought you’d never ask.

Right when she got home she aged up too! Welcome to Young Adulthood, Serah; hopefully it’s more stable than your teenage years.

Also all that fishing and gathering on the trip allotted her the bare necessities, yay!

...But oh, honey, I think it’s time to hit the gym. lol.

TBC....