#You had your darling baby child like you wanted em instead.

[hexastitchimera]

Everything these days really is out to make me bawl straight fuckin tears regarding how shit my parents are and how badly their shit way of bringing me up permanently fucked my chances.

[justasimplesinner]

Bro can I get mof and arkam Eddie with an s/o that loves animals to the point were if a wild/domestic animal so much as walks up to them unprompted they stop what they're doing and bring it home like "So this is our new child and you're their father now" or alternatively "Hey I found this on our driveway and I need to get to work hold this" and dumps a rabbit into their arms and bolts out the door.

Shat this request out just for you bro

patiently waiting for the 2nd girl with a cup (i hope no one gets this traumatising reference and if u do, just know that youre not alone in this)

Masters of Fear!Jon with a crazy animal person hcs:

his face is constantly the epitome of "excuse me but what the fuck?"

the first time you pulled shit like this, his mind just stopped fucking functioning for a moment. he's just sitting there, almost calmly (since his heart always races around you), waiting for you on the couch to read with you as you throw out some trash, and suddenly finds himself with a whole ass raccoon with babies (and possibly rabies) on it's back in his lap as you "make a quick meal for the poor thing". he was utterly frozen in his seat, eyes staring into the furry things crawling around in his lap, his fingers digging into the couch in fear of his life because this fucking thing could bite him and scratch him and give him every possible disease under the sun while you're whistling carelessly in the kitchen, making some meat and looking for crackers the raccoons could snack on. ("you want to feed 'em a little snack? look at their pleading little eyes-" "absolutely not, please get them off of me" "look at my pleading little eyes-")

after learning that this is just a thing you do, your little quirk 'cause you ain't like other bitches, he's less and less phased with every animal but he will never get used to this. what even prompts you to do this and how have you not died yet? he once saw you trying to feed and pet baby bears and the fucking momma bear rounded up on you and Jon swore his heart stopped dead in it's tracks cuz he thought you was 'bout to get fucking devoured alive

i mean, he has his crows, and they're definitely not domesticated, but you're taking it a step too far. you came back with a fucking deer following you into the house and you were just supposed to go to the grocery store! ( "i named him 'coat rack' :)" "if you don't get this thing out of my house i will turn it into a trophy on the wall" ":(" )

basically just

Arkham!Ed with a crazy animal person hcs:

oh, hey darling, what have you got there- oH MY GOD GET THIS FUCKING THING OUT OF HERE I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU TAKE ONE STEP CLOSER I WILL NOT HESITATE TO KICK IT INTO THE SUN-

does not consent to your actions at all. he is terrified. Eddie isn't fond of animals and animals aren't fond of him. as a child, he always wanted a pet but he never had one, and he had a traumatising encounter with a stray dog once which left him a little wary around big animals. if he had to chose, he's most fond of cats, but despite being a grown man, he still flinches and is scared to approach them whenever they hiss or sharpen their claws. he just can't get along with animals, unlike you

he hates that habit of yours. he remembers sleeping in bed with you one time, happily fucking cuddling and then feeling something slither against his bare legs. the girly shriek he let out as he jumped out of bed and the horrified scream that escaped his throat as he actually saw a fucking snake under the covers did everlasting damage to your eardrums. ("it's just a ball python, he's harmless" "GET THIS FUCKING THING AWAY FROM ME AND MY BED I SWEAR TO GOD-")

it's such a distraction when he works, too - sometimes, you just burst in, a ball of fluff in your arms as you dump it in his lap while he's in the middle of welding some shit, telling him you have things to do and he has to take care of it for a moment. well, guess what - he has things to do too! and he's also scared of this fluffy white rabbit god dammit, the wretched thing started humping his leg, what is he even supposed to do in that situation? he had half the mind to use the welder but he's not that heartless. other times, he's peacefully coding away until suddenly everything fucking shuts down and his progress is lost because you thought bringing a beaver into the safehouse was a good idea and it got into his workshop, started building a metal fucking dam and chewing on cords! this is a fucking nightmare

he begrudgingly has to admit you're making him get used to animals and his fear isn't as prominent as it was before. but i guess that's the way shit goes when you fucking make him pet an alligator that was crawling around in your sewer and that somehow didn't bite your ass off, instead only enjoying the meat you fed it with

[tobesolonely]

it’s not christmas ‘til you come home

a/n: hello!! please enjoy this piece from my dad!harry universe! (u dont have to read any of them for it to make sense, but it would be cool if u did! loosely based on it’s not christmas ‘til you come home by norah jones <3 hope you enjoy! thank u to @harryysstyless​ for beta reading for me!! happy holidays everyone :)

warnings: SMUT, a bit of angst <3 word count: ~5.1k 

my ko-fi! thank you :)

December 23rd, 2:00 PM

For as long as you and Harry have been in a relationship, you’ve never not spent a Christmas together. 

Before expanding your family, you and he used to hop from party to party every Christmas Eve. Both of you would be absolutely trashed by the time Harry’s driver would drop you off at his house in the early hours of the morning. You’d sleep in until approximately noon, willing your hangovers to go away before finally making it down the stairs and into the kitchen to prepare two steaming cups of coffee. The two of you would then make your way into the living room and exchange gifts (where Harry always went way over the budget you’d set). 

Once you had your first child, Allison, your yearly tradition of party hopping and getting so drunk you could hardly put one foot in front of the other was no more. Instead, you and Harry opted for calm nights in, watching Christmas movies and drinking hot cocoa until she eventually grew tired and got carried up to bed. You would wait an hour or so before springing into action, playing Santa and setting out all of the gifts she asked for and then some. Harry never forgot to take a big bite out of the cookie and carrot left out for Santa and his reindeer.

This tradition stayed the same once your second baby, Oliver, was born. Even though he was too young to know what was going on, Harry was still excited to spoil him rotten this year as it was his first Christmas. However, given the current state of the world, you were afraid Harry would not be here for the first time ever.

“Mumma, when’s daddy coming home?” your six-year-old, Ally, asked for what had to be the seventh time that afternoon. “I made him a drawing for his gift ‘nd I can’t wait for him to see it!”

“Let me see what you drew for Daddy, love bug,” you say cheerily, purposefully glossing over her question. Ally proudly holds her drawing up next to her face. She looks up at you with wide eyes, awaiting a compliment from you. 

“That’s gorgeous, bug! Daddy’s gonna love it,” you inform her. “Maybe you can stick a lil’ bow on it and set it under the tree for him, hmm?” 

“Good idea, Mumma!” Ally runs to the box where you kept all the supplies for gift wrapping, digging around for a pink bow to stick on the corner of her drawing.

While she’s preoccupied with finding the perfect bow to place on her drawing for Harry, you take a quick glance at your phone. He still hadn’t gotten back to you since last night’s quick conversation when he very briefly mentioned he didn’t know if he’d be able to make it home.

He was filming in Los Angeles. You shared your uncertainties about him going before he departed but in the end, this was an opportunity you didn’t want him to miss out on. You read the Los Angeles Times free articles on your phone daily, keeping track of the state of the pandemic in Southern California. You knew it was much worse there than it was at home in London. You feared what you were afraid of was sadly bound to happen— Harry may get stuck in LA.

You didn’t want to say anything to your curious daughter because communication with him had been so sparse. You didn’t know anything for certain yet. But what were you supposed to think? You knew flying nationally wasn’t a good idea at the moment, never mind internationally.

“Hey bug, d’ya think you can watch your brother for a moment? Mumma’s gotta go make a phone call.” 

You hear your daughter let out a slightly irritated sigh. “I suppose I can, Mumma.” Ally responds with a voice laced with exasperation. You chuckle slightly under your breath at your overly dramatic (much like her dad) six-year-old and head into the kitchen, quickly dialing your husband’s familiar number.

“Hello?” 

You let out a sigh of relief upon hearing Harry’s low, hoarse voice. 

“Hi, honey. Just checkin’ in to see how things are going…” you hear shuffling on his end. “It’s December 23rd, you know.”

“I know, love.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Six in tha’ mornin’ here.”

“I’m sorry, H. S’just Allison keeps on askin’ when you’ll be home and ‘m just so worried you won’t make it home on time and you’ll miss Oliver’s first Christmas—“

“Darling,” Harry interrupts your anxiety-fueled ramble. “‘M gonna make it home. Have I ever not been there when I said I would?” 

“No,” you say quietly. “I’m just worried, Harry. I hear traveling is going to get very strict because they’re trying to prevent people from going anywhere for Christmas…”

“Fine, then I’ll get my own plane with jus’ me and a pilot. Wear a mask the entire time and whatnot. Yanno I can make that happen if it’s necessary, pet.” 

Harry’s calm demeanor about the whole situation brings you a bit of peace. Perhaps you were catastrophizing something that wasn’t as big of a deal as you thought it was a mere two minutes ago. If he wasn’t worried about not making it home, you didn’t see any reason to stress about it— not for one second longer.

“Okay then,” you reply, still a bit wary of his travel plans. “What shall I tell your daughter? She’s drivin’ me up the walls asking where you are every twenty minutes.”

Your husband lets out a breathy laugh, causing you to giggle along with him. “Tell her not to eat up all the Christmas cookies before I get a taste of one.”

December 24th, 8:45 AM

Part of you was hoping you’d wake up on Christmas Eve and Harry would be tucked into bed next to you, plump lips parted, the sound of his snores the only noise in the room. However, you were a rational woman, if nothing else. You knew he wouldn’t be by your side when you woke up. 

You make your way down the hall and peek inside your son’s room. He was fast asleep, plump thumb in his mouth. You smile at your sleeping baby and gently close the door behind you, deciding to let him sleep in a bit longer before waking him up to feed him. 

Next, you walk to your daughter's room, gently pushing open the door in case she was still sleeping. Instead, you find her sat at her desk, deeply focused on what appeared to be another drawing. 

“Good morning, lovebug,” you greet your daughter in a sing-songy voice. “You’re up early. What are you working on?”

“Makin’ a letter for Santa,” she replies, not bothering to look up from what she was doing. 

“A letter for Santa?” You start racking your brain for anything you and Harry could’ve possibly forgotten to get for Ally, but you finished your Christmas shopping for your children way back in November.

“Yes,” she answers matter-of-factly. “‘M askin’ him to make sure my Daddy is home by tonight so we can eat cookies together and watch Toy Story, Mumma.” 

“I’m sure Santa will make that happen for you,” you reassure her. “You’ve been a very good girl this year, been so helpful with Olly and doin’ so well in school. The least Santa can do is get you whatever you want.” You see her smile as she digs around in her crayon box.

“Can we wait ‘til Daddy gets home to make Santa’s cookies, Mumma?”

“Sure we can, bug,” Ally claps her hands together excitedly, bouncing around in her tiny chair. “Gonna go make some pancakes, does that sound yummy?”

“Can we have chocolate chip pancakes please?”

“Are you askin’ me that because your dad isn’t here to throw a fit about it?” You give her a knowing smile, causing her to giggle.

“Maaaaybe…” Your daughter turns to face you, swinging her legs back and forth.

“If I make your chocolate chip pancakes, you can’t tell your dad. Deal?” You hold up your pinky. Ally gets up and runs to you and you bend down slightly so she can link her finger with yours.

“I pinky promise, Mumma!”

“Our little secret, yeah?” she nods. “Keep an ear out for your brother for me, bug. I’ll be downstairs.”

December 24th, 3:00 PM

“Love? ‘M afraid I got some bad news...”

As soon as Harry’s voice comes through on the other line, you can tell whatever news he’s about to share with you won’t be what you’re wanting to hear.

“What is it?”

It’s silent for what feels like entirely too long. You get up from your position on the couch next to Ally, telling her you’ll be right back. After breakfast, she convinced you to watch Toy Story with her, which quickly turned into a whole Disney movie marathon.

“Not so sure I’ll be able to make it home.”

You’re not sure if it’s his calm tone that bothers you, the fact that you didn’t want him to go to Los Angeles in the first place, or simply the fact that you and your children missed him terribly and haven’t seen him in nearly a month–– but your mood changes from relaxed to undeniably outraged in three seconds flat.

“You’re kidding.” Your tone is sharp, venomous. Harry once again takes a moment before responding, knowing that the current tone of your voice means he’d best proceed with caution.

“‘M not, love. I woke up early and everything to try and get this sorted out, it’s 7 AM so I was gonna try and catch an early flight––”

“I told you I didn’t want you going to LA,” you cut him off, voice rising slightly. “You knew how bad the pandemic was getting there. I told you this would happen.”

“What do you suppose I do then, Y/N?” His tone is becoming equally as sharp. “Y’want me to tell ‘em, “Sorry, I don’t give a fuck about the travel restrictions. My wife wants me home so let's make it happen!” ‘S that what you want me to do?”

“Don’t be a smartass, Harry,” you spit. “I’ll give the phone to your daughter and you can tell her you won’t be home in time for Christmas, then.”

“Y/N…” his tone is calm again. Fearful. “Don’t make me do that.”

“She woke up early to write a letter to Santa to tell him she wants you home by tonight, Harry,” your tone softens as well. “Even Olly has been asking for you. Swear his new favorite word is ‘dada’.” He laughs at this as do you, and the shared tension that was present just minutes ago dissipates. 

“Just… lemme try a few more things before I tell her, yeah?”

“Harry, it’s already three here,” you gently remind him. “Even if you do make it home today, she’ll be asleep by the time you’re home. I think you just need to tell her.”

Your husband sighs, knowing you were undeniably correct. “Alright. Give Allison the phone, please.”

December 24th, 8 PM

“Almost time for you to head to bed soon, yeah Allybug?” Your daughter lets out a loud sigh in response, not shifting her gaze from the television to you. Ever since Harry told her he wouldn’t be home in time to eat cookies with her, she’s hardly said a word. She’s never experienced a Christmas Eve without her father so understandably, she was missing him tonight.

You shift Olly, who was falling asleep nursing on your lap, into a different position so you could face your daughter directly. From your new position, you can see just how tired she looks. 

“‘M not sleepy, Mumma. Gonna stay up and wait for Daddy,” she informs you of her new plans. “When Daddy is home that’s when it’s time for bed.”

“Ally, remember what Daddy told you on the phone earlier? Santa won’t come unless you go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna sleep,” she’s quickly starting to grow upset. “Not until Daddy tucks me in!”

You purse your lips, not wanting to argue with your headstrong daughter when your son was so close to drifting off into his nightly milk coma. Turning your attention back to the movie that was quietly playing on the television, you decide to drop it for now and try again later.

December 24th, 9:05 PM

Not more than an hour later, Olly is upstairs in his crib fast asleep whilst Ally is still laying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, fighting sleep. She was determined to stay up until her father walked through the front door, and you knew getting her to agree to go to bed was going to be a battle and a half.

“You’re not ready to go to bed yet, Ally?” Her eyes fly open once she hears you addressing her.

“Not yet, Mumma. ‘M not sleepy yet.” Her words are a little slurred due to the exhausted state she was in. You hum in response.

“Could’ve sworn your eyes just shut for a minute there,” you pause for a second to see if she’ll look your way. “Must’ve just been my old lady eyes playin’ tricks on me, y’think?”

“I wasn’t sleeping!” She immediately defends herself, frown lines indenting her forehead. “Can we drink more hot chocolate?”

You knew if you wanted your daughter to fall asleep within the hour, another sugar rush wasn’t the best idea. You instead offer her a hot cup of sleepytime tea and she excitedly agrees once you tell her it’s her father’s favorite type of tea to drink at bedtime. You place her down on the kitchen counter while you fill the kettle and wait for it to whistle.

“What are you looking forward to the most from Santa, bug?” 

Her eyes light up at your question. “Well, I really want a new bike! ‘Member Mumma? How I asked him for a pink bike? And I also want a cool swing set! Since we haven’t been able to go to the park in so long,” her smile falters and she looks down at her dangling feet. “I want Daddy to come home the mostest, though.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to break in two upon hearing your daughter admit that Harry being home would be the greatest gift of all. “So do I, lovebug. He’ll be here in the mornin’ to watch you and your brother open all the gifts Santa got you though, don’t you worry.”

For everyone’s sake, you hoped that was true.

December 24th, 11:50 PM

Sleep wasn’t coming easy. 

You finally got your daughter to bed at around ten o’clock and waited thirty minutes before laying out your children’s gifts. It took much longer than it usually did considering you had to do it all on your own. Harry was usually the one to quickly assemble the larger toys while you laid everything out around the living room. 

Despite it taking longer than desired, you were proud that you got it all done without waking your children up. Consequently, that meant you were now left all alone with your thoughts considering you had no more tasks to occupy yourself with. 

You kept contemplating calling Harry, but you weren’t sure if he was busy on set or not. Surely he was immersing himself in work to distract himself from the fact he would not be spending Christmas with his family. 

Deciding you may need a cup of the sleepytime tea you offered Allison earlier, you quietly get out of bed and open your door, sock-clad feet padding softly against the wooden floors. It’s unnervingly silent in your home–– the tea kettle coming to a boil being the only source of noise. You keep unlocking and re-locking your phone, finally deciding to call your husband to see how he’s spending his day. It goes to automatic voicemail.

You assume the reason for this must be that he’s busy filming on set and set your phone down with a sigh, standing on your tiptoes to retrieve a mug from the cabinet. You mutter a slew of curse words under your breath intended for Harry who always puts the mugs up far too high even though you tell him not to.

Right as you begin pouring the now boiling water into your teacup, the faint jingling of your front door causes you to startle so badly that you nearly drop the kettle on the ground. You try to think back to everything Harry ever told you to do in the event of an intruder but your mind goes blank from fright. Deciding to use the scalding water as your weapon, you slowly creep towards the door, your only plan being to fling the water on whoever it was as soon as they got the door open. As soon as you hear the lock click, you flick the lid open that covers the spout and draw your arm back.

“Shit––”

“Harry?”

Your husband jumps slightly, his eyes blinking rapidly in an effort to adjust to the dark living room. You reach beside him and quickly turn on the light, shakily letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He looks exhausted, his hair is an absolute mess, and his eyes are red from sleep deprivation–– but he’s home. You set the tea kettle down on the coffee table and fling yourself into his arms, breathing in the scent of the man you haven’t seen in a month. He drops his bags at his feet so he can properly embrace you, pulling you into him.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays like that for a moment saying nothing, just breathing you in. “Missed ya so fuckin’ much.

“How? I thought…” you trail off. “You said that they said…”

Harry laughs quietly. “Remember what I told ya? I said to ‘em, ‘Don’t give a fuck about your travel restrictions! M’wife wants me home.’” You laugh at him, knowing he was far too kind to talk to anyone that way. 

“Yeah, okay,” you reply sarcastically. You pull him in for another hug, placing wet kisses along his jawline. “I’m so happy you’re home. The kids are gonna be over the moon, especially Allison.” Harry hums, surveying the room.

“Looks like you did a good job in here, Mrs. Claus. See ya even assembled some toys all by yourself,” he quirks an eyebrow. “Were you jus’ pretendin’ not to know how to do it all these years so I’d be stuck with all the hard labor?”

“Maybe.”

He pulls you back into him, tickling your sides. “My sneaky girl,” he bends down so his lips are level with your neck and sucks gently, causing you to let out a quiet moan. You see his eyes land on the tea kettle that was sitting forgotten on the coffee table. “Making a cuppa? Can I have one? ‘M freezin’.”

“I can think of something else we can do to get you warmed up,” you reach for his hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. “If you know what I’m gettin’ at.”

“Hmm…” Harry releases one of his hands from your grip and taps at his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Not too sure I can say I know what you’re sayin’. Maybe you should just tell me?”

You frown. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

“Y’know I’d give you the entire world if you asked me for it. All you gotta do is tell me what you want from me and it’s yours–– ‘m sure you’ve known that since the first day we met, though.” Harry takes a step back, crossing his arms across his chest. Even in his thick winter coat, you can see the way his biceps flex, and it makes you even more feral for him.

“Fine,” you say quietly, feeling yourself start to grow shy under his intense gaze. “I’m kinda... in the mood.” You say it so softly that it would most likely be inaudible to Harry if he wasn’t standing mere inches away from you. Harry throws his head back in laughter and you quickly shush him, not wanting any of your children to wake up.

“In the mood? C’mon, pet,” he uncrosses his arms and reaches for one of your hands. “Tha’s not tellin’ me what you want from me. Tell me exactly what you want, lovie.”

“You know what I want, H,” you tell him with a hint of annoyance in your voice. “It’s been a month. Yanno I want you to fuck me, why are you makin’ me say it?”

Harry gives you a shit-eating grin. “You jus’ said it. I didn’t make you say anything.”

You roll your eyes at his immaturity, already in the process of lifting your nightshirt (one of his old t-shirts that’s become just a little too tight on him) over your head. “Are we gonna get to it or not? Because if not, I’ll just go back to makin’ myself some tea and call it a night––”

Harry takes half a step towards you and reaches up to cup your face, colliding his lips with yours. His lips are a little chapped and taste of his favorite rose lip balm. You feel your body relaxing into the kiss, knees going weak as he walks you back onto the couch.

“You’ve been eatin’ up all the sugar cookies, haven’t you? Can taste it on ya. Thought those were for Santa,” he’s pulled away from you to examine your face. “A bit naughty of you, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Please stop referring to yourself as Santa when we’re about to have sex, Harry.”

“You’re not bein’ very kind to the person that’s about to go down on you, are you?” He sucks harshly on the valley between your breasts, wanting to be sure a deep-colored bruise will appear on your skin later. “That’s okay. It is Christmas, after all. ‘M in a giving mood.”

“Stop talking and get to it then.”

Harry slides off the couch and onto his knees in between your legs, gently kissing your thighs. “Cute pair of undies–– s’like you knew I was comin’ home tonight.” Before you can respond Harry’s fingers are tugging at the waistband of your underwear, eager to get them off of you. He presses light kisses to your core, mumbling about how much he missed the smell of you and how sweet you tasted. 

One hand is resting across your stomach while the other one is in between your folds, spreading you open. You try squeezing your thighs around his head, overwhelmed by the feeling of your husband’s lips around your clit after being away from him for so long, but he removes his hand from your stomach and pushes your thighs back apart.

“Feels so good,” you’re breathless, tangling your fingers in Harry’s hair as his hollowed cheeks begin to suck more roughly on your clit. “Missed you so much. Missed this–– us.” 

Harry pauses momentarily to look up at you. “I know, angel. God, do I know.” He attaches his lips back on you, swirling his tongue around your clit as you  choke back your moans. The hand that is holding you open moves down to toy at your slit as he wordlessly checks to see if you’re okay with his fingers being in you. 

“Please,” you say softly, encouraging his next move. He spits on his index and pointer finger before slowly sliding both of them in you, immediately curling them up. “Oh, Harry. Fuckin’ love when you do tha’...”

“Know you do,” His response is curt, simple. He’s focused on the task at hand–– getting you off. He uses the hand that’s lying across your stomach to rub tight circles on your clit, sensing you’re nearing your orgasm from the way you’re starting to clench around him. “Such a good girl fo’ me, darlin’. Gonna make a mess on my fingers in a second, aren’t you?”

You nod as you try to control your breathing and the loudness of your moans. The last thing you wanted was for your daughter to come down to inspect the source of the noise. “Fuck, Harry.” 

“Come on, darlin’,” he gently pinches your clit, causing your body to jolt at the sensation. “Gimme a good one. A lil’ welcome back gift for me, hmm?” 

Your hips are bucking up to the rhythm of his fingers slipping in and out of you as your orgasm quickly approaches. “Har, I’m close…” it comes out sounding more like a warning than a statement. He moves the two fingers he has inside of you in a back and forth motion, coaxing your first orgasm out of you.

“Tha’s my girl,” he whispers, not stopping his movements even as your back arches as your first orgasm rolls over you like a giant wave. “Givin’ me a good one jus’ like I knew you would. Jus’ like you always do. M’ sweet girl.” As you’re starting to still, Harry pulls his fingers out of you and holds them up to your mouth, instructing you to suck them clean. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can properly lean in to steal a kiss from him and notice a rather sizable tent has formed in his pants. Harry gives you a sheepish grin as he palms himself, hissing from the feel of his palm against his cock.

“Want me to do somethin’ about that?” You scoot over on the couch and pat the spot next to you, signaling for your husband to sit beside you. He lifts himself from his seated position, stretching his legs out a bit before plopping down beside you.

“Are you offerin’ me a blowie?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“Can we skip that an’ you can jus’ ride me instead? Think I’d quite like that.”

“Oh you would, would ya?”

Harry nods and unzips his pants, taking himself out. He licks his hand and gives himself a few pumps. “Still on birth control, I’m assuming?”

You roll your eyes as you move to straddle him. “Only been gone for a month, Harry. Of course ‘m still on it, you goof.”

“Can never be too careful. I don’t think now’s a good time for another lil’ one, do you? Think we should at least celebrate Oliver’s first birthday before we try for another one.” His hands are on his hips as he lines you up over his cock, helping you slowly sink down. You missed the burn of him which was even more intense than it usually was considering it’s been a while since he’s taken you.

“I think you’re right,” you reply. You rest your head on his shoulder while you adjust to the size of him, needing to take a moment to yourself before attempting to move. After a short adjustment period you begin rolling your hips, grinding against him in a way that was also bringing pleasure to your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your last orgasm.

Harry’s eyes are fixated on the way your breasts bounce in front of him, the way your stomach slightly jiggles each time you crash back down onto him. His lips are caught in between his teeth; you’re hoping he doesn’t break any skin so you don’t have to hear him whine about how badly the bruise hurts him later.

“Ridin’ me like your life depends on it,” Harry mutters. “Fuckin’ love takin’ you like this, angel. So fuckin’ deep.”

You simply hum in agreement, brain far too foggy to form a coherent sentence. Harry notices your movements starting to become smaller, lazier, so he puts his hands on your hips and decides to take over. He’s thrusting up into you like you’ll up and run away from him if he doesn’t give it his all. He cups your face with one hand and gently guides you towards him, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

“Fuck, H,” your eyes are squeezed shut and your wrap your arms around his neck, feeling your second orgasm quickly approaching. “Rub my clit please, almost there.”

Harry’s fingers immediately come down to rub at your slick nub, not faltering his relentless pace in the slightest. “Clench around me again, lovie,” his voice is higher than usual, whiny, and you know your husband is just as close as you are. “Love when you do tha’, jus’ need you to do it one more time.”

You do as he wishes once more, knowing once he cums you’ll be directly behind him. Harry lets out a string of expletives as he releases inside of you, pulling you tightly against his chest as he rides out his orgasm. You continue riding him, not slowly down as you chase your own release next.

“Harry,” you’re in a trance-like state, chanting his name over and over as you bring yourself over the edge. “Harry, fuck!”

“That’s my good girl,” he says quietly, rubbing your back as you rest your head on his shoulder while you catch your breath. You feel him beginning to soften inside of you so you lift yourself off and lay back on the couch, legs still shaking. It’s quiet for a couple of minutes as the two of you reveal in the afterglow of your orgasms, Harry gently running his fingers along your leg.

“Round two in the shower?”

December 25th, 6:42 AM

“Mumma! Santa came and he left lots of toys–– Daddy?”

Harry lets out a dramatic “oof!” as Ally jumps onto him, pulling the covers back. Her eyes are wide and she giggles are Harry pulls her into one of his infamous bear hugs, placing kisses all over his face.

“Mornin’, love bug! What’re you doin’ up so early?”

“It’s Christmas, Daddy! Santa came!” she sits back on her feet, a confused look on her face. “Did Santa bring you on his sleigh last night after me ‘n Olly went to bed?”

“Y’know what? He told me to keep it a secret, but he did,” Allison gasps in response to his news as she processes it, placing a little hand over her mouth. Harry sits up and gets out of bed, scooping her up in the process. “How ‘bout we go make Mum a cuppa before we see what Santa got for you and Olly? Tha’ sound good? Let’s let them sleep for a while longer, hmm?”

As you hear them exit the room you take a second to reflect on how lucky you are to spend another Christmas with you beautiful family before drifting back off into a deep, albeit short, sleep.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

Carter baizen part 2 ! Please 😖🙏

pairing : carter baizen x reader

warnings: angst

inspired by we were happy

I hate those voices tellin' me I'm not in love anymore but they don't give me choices and that's what these tears are for 'cause we were happy. We were happy when it was good, baby, it was good, baby, we showed 'em all up. No one could touch the way we laughed in the dark ...

The air was hot and humid, almost suffocating those who were not used to a Greek summer yet Y/N found a sense of overwhelming joy in that feeling of hot suffocation. For once in a year, the suffocation of what she was meant to be, who she was meant to represent and what she should look like were replaced by the bearable suffocation of heat which was easily treatable with some iced drinks and standing in front of a fan. Every once in a year, while everyone travelled to the Hamptons to escape the New York Summer, the Archibald and Vanderbilt clan would instead travel abroad to Europe. “Every educated young person spends their free time in Europe” her grandfather would say whenever her or Nate would ask why they couldn’t join everyone else in the Hamptons. As a child she had found it overwhelmingly annoying, wanting nothing but to spend the summer with her friends but as she grew older, she started to enjoy time apart from her carefully designed life in the Upper East. This year was no exception and the Archibalds were bound to Santorini. 

She laughed to herself as she saw her twin brother bathe in sunscreen before laying down in one of the chairs on the patio, bright turquoise shorts on with a Yankees cap on. He’d previously warned the family that all he cared about was sunbathing and doing nothing for the rest of the month; yet, she hadn’t expected him to completely mean it. 

     - You look ridiculous. - her grandfather told his grandson from the window, standing just a bit in front of the chair where Y/N was sat reading a book she’d randomly bought from the airport’s shop. The elderly man, in his mid 60s, turned to face his granddaughter, smile gracing his normally austere face. He’d always had a soft spot for his granddaughter, mostly bragging to his friends how she was the only one of out his deadbeat grandsons who’d make something out of herself. - Y/N, darling, why don’t you come with me and your father to the golf court today? 

    - I thought you were gonna spare the other hotel guests of a terrible lose this year.

    - A Vanderbilt always wins. 

She enjoyed golfing. By herself. Golfing with her grandfather was something completely different which she couldn’t exactly label as enjoyable. However, she did enjoy her grandfather’s company and anything was better than watching her brother turn tomato red because he kept applying the wrong type of sunscreen. She did however enjoy to ride the golf cart around and mostly would sit on it with her book whenever her grandfather wanted to play a particularly long streak. She rose her head from her book to smile at her grandfather who had just had another clean shot, only to see he had started to chat with someone else. It was no surprise, her grandfather just like any other man in her family had a magnetic like charm and if that didn’t do the trick, everyone would want to come speak to him once they discovered he was a Vanderbilt. She jumped off the golf cart, curious about who this man who was chatting her grandfather’s ears off was.

     - This is my granddaughter, Y/N. - her grandfather introduced her to a man who had an almost eerie similarity to someone she knew yet she couldn’t point out who. - Y/N this is Gregory Baizen, you’ve met his wife Lydia at your mother’s Thanksgiving dinner.

     - I remember. - she smiled politely.

     - Have you met my son? - Mr. Baizen turned around, signalling someone to come over who she knew way too well. He strolled over to his father in white trousers and a blue polo shirt, that cocky smile which was so familiar to him as his own name. - Carter, this is William’s granddaughter, Y/N.

     - We’ve met before. - he looked her up and down, her normally polished dresses and skirts replaced by a white gold dress and a white viser, hair pulled into a high ponytail. - I was at St. Judes, a few grades above.

     - Y/N is going to Yale next year’s fall. - his father said yet it sounded more like a sting to Carter than actual information. Of course he knew she was going to Yale, it was all she could talk about for a month after she got an early admission. - Maybe you two should talk.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she returned to the golf cart with Carter. So much for finishing her book, not that it was that interesting anyway. He’d been MIA for the last weeks she had been in New York which while it used to be common for him, he normally always let her know he was alright, something he didn’t do this time. She had told herself not to be upset but she couldn’t help but be slightly upset that the only person who normally knew where he was, did not know where he had been this past weeks. Maybe he had been in Santorini with his family; after all, he had only now gotten reacquainted with his parents and sister.

     - I know you’re upset, sugarcane. - he cocked his head to the side as she opened up her book. - C’mon, speak to me. 

     - I am busy.

     - You’re not busy. You’re avoiding me. - he took her book away, holding it higher than her height, which wasn’t too hard. 

    - Isn’t that what you’ve been doing for the past weeks? - she jumped onto the grass, arms crossed on what he thought was the most adorable dress he’d ever seen someone wear in a golf court. 

    - I got tied up.

    - Well, I’m tied up now so if you could leave me alone that’d be great.

She sarcastically smiled at him as she got up to drive the golf cart away as her grandfather waved her to. She didn’t want to be mad at him, she knew it was childish of her to be upset, after all he did not own her any explanation of where he went or what he did. He was not her boyfriend. Yet she couldn’t help but feel hurt he had just up and left and not said a single word to her today. Sure, she’d get over it, like she always did when it came to Carter Baizen. He just had a way of making her forget all the bad times and remember the good ones. He was also excellent at persuasion, would have made a great lawyer.

She pushed those thoughts away from her brain as she stepped onto her hotel villa, making her way through the common area to her own bedroom so she could shower the sunscreen and all the residue of the day away. With wet hair and an old flowy dress, she sat by her dresser, feet on the white wood as she read through the pages of her book. It was nothing pultzier would consider giving an award to but she always found herself interested in the cheesy romantic novels and their weirdly erotic covers. It was her guilty pleasure and as her family was concerned, one which did not bring any trouble to the family. She allowed herself to relax, feeling the cold breeze coming from the open window hit her warm arms, floating in the nice holiday daze until the sound of something hitting the glass of her window. 

Annoyed, she got up from the comfortable position she had taken ages to find out and walked up to her window. It better not be her tomato coloured brother or she’ll be committing a murder. Instead of her lazy brother, she saw Carter with a few white pebbles in his hand, looking up at her window.

    - Can you not break my window, you waste of breathing air? - she berated him in a low tone but he merely shrugged. 

    - Come down.

    - I can’t. My parents are in the next room are you insane?

    - I said come down not leave your hotel room. 

    - You seriously do not expect me to jump out my hotel window.

    - I’ll catch you and it’s not even that high. Come on. - he extended his arms. Y/N looked down her window and up again, pondering if she was really gonna jump out this window. By all means, it wouldn’t be the stupidest thing she would’ve done but it was still risky. However, she missed Carter and she never knew when he would go missing again so she sat against her window before jumping. She closed her eyes tight, hoping for the best as he caught her. She peaked her eyes open, heart slowing down as she realised she was not dead, or badly hurt. Instead he was holding her bridal style, charming boyish smile. 

    - Alright Romeo, put me down.

    - C’mon, don’t be mad. I hate it when you’re mad at me, sugarcane.

    - Then don’t do stuff that’ll make me mad.

    - I missed you.

    - Sure you did. - she rolled her eyes. 

    - I know you missed me too. - he cupped her face playfully moving the still damp hair away from her face. - C’mon, let’s do something.

She didn’t even had time to complain to him or tell him not to touch her hair as he had already wrapped his hand around hers and taking her down the paths of Santorini. She held her dress flush against her body as the two stopped at the marina. Great, he had taken her away from her cheesy erotic romance book to stare at boats. As she prepared to let him have a piece of her mind, he untied one of the boats from the haven, jumping on it before extending his hand to her.

   - No. - she stepped away. - That is not your boat. I don’t want to get arrested.

   - No one is here, sugarcane. It’ll be fun.

   - Prison will not be fun, Carter. 

   - Don’t you trust me? - she did and that was the problem. She trusted him way too much, after all he’d never given her a reason not to. 

Looking left and right, the marina was empty, most people having returned home or to their hotels to see the sunset from the high point of the island so the possibilities of getting caught were small. She trusted him. He was not gonna let anything harm her and so she took his hand, stepping onto the boat. She was no stranger to sailing after all her parents and family had a few boats in the marina, yet she’d never thought Carter would’ve been good at it. She guessed it fit his adventurous streak, yet it was awfully close to the world he used to say he hated so much. He set anchor far enough from the marina, far enough they’d look like a tiny dot on the horizon yet whoever looked at them when the sun was just setting was a fool. She thought it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The tones of yellow and golden mixing with the clear blue water, shone onto both their faces and she felt at peace.

     - I’ve been doing this for a few weeks. It’s pretty isn’t it? - he looked at her, almost enamoured by the way the sun illuminated every part of her skin. 

    - It is. - she turned to look at him, serene look as she forgot why she was mad at him. He smiled down at her, his hand caressing the palm of her soft one and for one second she thought they could be the cheesy couple on the novela cover. Of course, they weren’t but they were happy. She was happy and he was happy and maybe that’s all it ought to be. Just happiness.

Of course, things are never simple, life itself isn’t simple, it is complex, and as she looked over her shoulder to look at him again, he stole a kiss from her chapstick tinted lips. His hand dropped hers, instead holding her hips flush to his and she swore that was the meaning of happiness. Truly it was a moment that she’d never wanted to forget yet as she watched him dance around with Serena, that moment was something she wanted gone from her head. Yet, it played on loop as a reminder of how stupid she had been. The commotion had only become worse as she returned to the ballroom to see her brother punch him straight in the jaw followed by a few audible gasps from the audience. She stood there, not exactly knowing if to hug her brother or check if Carter as okay. She decided on the later, waiting til Serena left so she could apologise. At least one of the Archibald twins had to try to save the family name.

    - Your brother has a fucking aim. - he groaned, holding a whiskey glass against his face. 

   - It’s not undeserved, is it?

   - Don’t speak of things you don’t know, Y/N.

   - I know plenty. - she crossed her arms. - You humiliated me in front of the whole Upper East society, you don’t get to berrate me.

   - I’m not berating you and I did not humiliate you. You said it yourself that you were going alone.

   -  Oh fuck you, Carter. - her hands balled up at her side. - What happened to it not being your thing?

   - Things came up.

   - What things? Getting your dick wet?

   - Don’t be crude, it’s not you.

   - Fuck you, don’t tell me who I am. What came up that was so important that you couldn’t take me to Cotillion. Fucking hell, Carter. You knew how important this was for my family and I asked you, you said it was not your thing and here you are with Serena. 

   - I promised I would take her. I am trying to sort some stuff out and I’ll tell you once it’s over.

   - No. You’re gonna tell me now!

   - Y/N ...

   - Unless you want another Archibald to punch you tonight. 

   - I’m in trouble with the Buckleys. 

   - The Buckleys? What does Serena have to do with the Buckleys and what did you do to the Buckleys?

   - Gambling.

   - You’re pathetic.

   - I’m not pathetic. I’m trying to solve my own fucking problems instead of running to grandpa and daddy when I’m in trouble.

   - Is that supposed to be a dig? You’re upset my family supports me and yours doesn’t? That’s not my fucking problem and your gambling is definitely your fault so stop deflecting.

   - She told me she would help me in Santorini. - for the second time in that night, her heart plummeted to her stomach. So that was it, that was what had had him tied up. 

   - You were with her in Santorini? - her voice came out almost in a whisper, a mix of anger and sadness painting the tone. 

   - Shit. - he mumbled. - I can explain. Just give me time, alright? I’ll sort it and then I’ll ex ...

   - No. - she interrupted him. - You will stay the fuck away from me and from my family. I do not want your explanations, in fact, I don’t even want to see your face. You show up anywhere near me and I will destroy you. 

   - Sugarcane, c’mon.

   - If you hate me and you think me so dependent on my family, I will show you what my family can do when you cross us. Stay away from me. I don’t want to see your face.

[datawyrms]

Ghostly Mystery Tour

For Phic Fight 2021! dey’s lovely prompt c:

On Ao3

Maddie and Jack had fully prepared for their adventure into the Ghost Zone—or so they thought. The fuel on Specter Speeder had fizzled out about a mile in. They're stuck. At least, until Phantom comes by, offering help.

“I just don’t understand it Maddie, I swear I charged it just this morning!” Jack’s voice managed to be louder than his frantic jabbing at the fuel gauge in the enclosed space, the sickly green glow outside making him look ill instead of agitated.

“I’m sure you did honey, but we need to think of a plan.” Maddie was already trying to think of what they could use. They weren’t too far away from the portal home, with how quickly the Speeder ran out of power. They had plenty of gear and weaponry packed in for their research trip, but the Specter Speeder wasn’t powered with something they could just toss in a gas can and bring along. “Maybe we can hook some of the ropes to the floating land masses and tow it?”

“Oh! Great idea!” Jack brightened, shoving the previous problem aside, hands now occupied with measuring the distance of the nearby rocks. “The sooner we get moving, the sooner we can get back to work!”

The problem about how safe it actually was to breathe in the air when in the realm of the dead had been accounted for, but if they had to waste the air tanks just to get back- well they wouldn’t get to have nearly the amount of time to actually explore on foot, let alone gathering samples. They could learn so much about the ectoplasmic terrors from the world they clawed out of, weaknesses they didn’t need to fear on Earth even! So to have their expedition, a trip that had been months in the making derailed like this in mere moments hurt. At least Jack could keep his eyes forward, his positive attitude the only thing keeping her from screaming from the absolute unfairness of it all. “Just run the best options past me before you open the hatch, okay darling?”

“You betcha!”

She was still going to enable the Fenton Child Safety Lock as a precaution, he could get a little over eager when he saw an opportunity. It was just a matter of what tools could be repurposed into a makeshift claw or skewer to actually keep hold of the rocks. What would be the smallest loss?

The sound of something hitting the roof of the speeder halted her thoughts, turning to look out of the windows, drawing up her hood in case they’d be fighting so soon. Even Jack had stopped with his mental calculations, pulling a weapon from under the seat. “Company already? Guess we’ll show em what for, eh honey?”

“Well it is the Ghost Zone, they’re probably braver here. Not that it’ll be any problem.” A little boasting could help keep morale up, even if the situation was less than ideal. Stranded with a ghost already trying to take advantage, typical.

“Well one little zap with this baby and it’ll scoot right on back!”

If the ghost could hear them, maybe it would be frightened off just by their voices. Whatever had hit them hadn’t shown itself near the window, or hit their vehicle again. It didn’t feel right. There might be no evidence for whatever it was lurking around, but sometimes you had to follow your intuition. Jack was inquisitive, but didn’t ask out loud as his wife stood to knock the ceiling herself.

“Sooo are we doing knock knock jokes, or do you need a tow?”

She should have known. Of all the ghosts, it would have to be the one that always managed to get her hackles up, pretending to be helpful so people trusted him. A ghost that even tried to have a human name to fit in, not that she’d ever call this thing ‘Danny’. It was an insult to her baby boy, quite frankly. “What are you up to now?”

“Asking you if you need this thing moved. Duh,” the ghost snorted, the metal clanking as he knocked it again. “Talking at you from the roof feels dumb, you gonna shoot if I go to the front?”

“Depends on what you do, ghost scum!” Jack had looked pensive for a moment, but spoke up quickly on spotting Maddie reaching for a notebook. He just had to give her time to think it over, and he was great at distractions.

“Is scum what you call all people who help you out, or am I just your favourite?” A white haired head appeared at the top of their window, looking down with an amused smirk at the pair. Still playing innocent when they were at a disadvantage.

“You’re a ghost ‘claiming’ to want to help.”

That earned a frown, though the ghost stopped half hiding to float in front of their stranded speeder. “Riiiight. Put it that way, whatever,” he paused, as if studying their faces. His green eyes lingered on the weapon, notably so even as he went back to jabbering. “I’ve got some stuff to do, but I can drag the s-that thing back to the portal. So?”

The hunters shared a glance, unsure how to handle it. Phantom liked to claim he liked humans and protecting them, but he was a ghost. There had to be something he wanted out of them in return. Or might get violent if refused in the wrong way. At least he shouldn’t be able to see the quickly scrawled message to Jack. ‘You play the doubtful one, I’ll pretend to trust him- it’ll underestimate us’

“As if, spooky! Jack Fenton doesn’t need any ghost’s help!”

The ghost bought the open hostility without a second thought, eyes rolling to a sky that wasn’t here. “Really? I heard tow trucks were expensive out of state! Can’t imagine the out of dimension costs.”

It was going to be difficult to stay civil when it would be so much easier to just demand the ghost stop playing around. “We’re listening. So what do you want?”

“Awwww Mads, we don’t need this punk’s help! He doesn’t even have toes!”

The passion Jack had put into his moping managed to baffle the ghost. “Wait, what? Of course I do! No, stop, why does that matter? I know tows and toes are different things! I’m not that bad of a student, sheesh.” He seemed quite thrown, which was good. If the ghost forgot what the plan had been he might just get lost.

“Yeah, and you don’t have either Phantom!” Her husband managed to keep from laughing, but the shake in his shoulders showed it was a near thing.

Phantom glanced down at the black wispy tail that made up his legs, muttering something. “Well okay I don’t right now, but I normally do!”

It was a bit fascinating that Jack had distracted the ghost from his goal so completely. They’d have to think about an invention that could replicate the effect. “Can we focus please? I already said I’d listen to what you wanted.”

“Oh! Right, sorry,” he coughed, a strangely human expression of embarrassment. “I don’t actually need anything? I just have some stuff to do so you’d need to wait a bit.”

Oh right. Sure, the most dangerous ghost in town wanted to help the ghost hunters that wanted to destroy him ‘just because’. Just wait here while he goes to get some friends to attack them! Honestly, did ghosts think they were stupid? “Then why not tell us when you’re done? We’re not moving very quickly.”

“Cus he wants to make us think we’re safe before WHAM! Outnumbered by cowardly ghosts!” Jack expressed her true feelings effortlessly. “Not that it’d help em!”

“No way, you think I’d leave you guys here where anyone can try something?” The ghost still seemed confused, eyebrows raised and arms crossed. “You guys are here to study or whatever anyway, right? So you can look around while I get my errands done. And you know, you don’t get attacked. Most of the little guys leave me alone.”

As if that was a surprise! A ghost of Phantom’s strength could destroy smaller and weaker entities without effort. Perhaps it was a subtle threat slipping through his mask of ‘helpful child’. The idea of going deeper into the Ghost Zone, completely at his mercy was...well absolutely idiotic. Even if they could probably overcome him...being able to still get some studies done would make it not a complete waste of a trip. “So you think it’s likely we’ll be attacked here, so close to the portal?”

“Yeah, by him!” Jack looked tempted to grab his weapon, but refrained. “So what if we say no, huh?”

“Then I guess you can float here? Up to you, I guess.”

It was strange, to see the cocky ghost a bit hesitant. Even if there was an obvious threat he wasn’t mentioning. “Well if you could pull the Speeder, you could take it even if we don’t want you to.”

“I think that’s called kidnapping.” Phantom’s cocky smirk returned “Which is weird, you’re not kids! Adultnapping? Nah, that sounds dumb.”

“Ah cut the innocent act, we’re not falling for it!”

“Hey, I said it’s up to you! Either you agree to come along and I get you back home, or I just leave you guys to do whatever you plan to do. Even if yes, I could totally just drag the ship anyway. I’m not, because I’m trying to help, remember?” A hint of frustration slid past the confidence at ‘remember’, but the ghost folding his arms behind his head as if kicking back to relax did defang most of the threat. “I don’t have all day here.”

“We don’t have all day either Phantom. We have family to get back to, and no idea how long you plan to be ‘on errands’.” Maddie pointed out, still unsure what they should do. Trusting him was stupid, but he had showed his hand. Refusal might be met with the same result anyway, but ‘agreeing’ might trick the ghost into thinking they fell for his ‘trustworthy’ act.

“Like an hour or two? Not too long.”

“Well I’d use my Fenton Stopwatch! So don’t think you can pretend it’s a shorter time than it is, ghost!”

“Yeah yeah, you do that D-Jack,” he stumbled over the ghost hunter’s name, but otherwise didn’t move from relaxing. “It’s not gonna kill you to trust me for a bit.”

Even though it very much could kill them. He really was a smug bit of ectoplasm, thinking he blended in with humans well enough to be considered one. “So only a few hours, and you won’t stop us from researching or taking samples? Or lead us to a trap?”

“If I wanted people to get threatened by ghosts, I could just take some days off. No trouble, cross my heart. I’d swear to die but I got the jump on that bit,” he snorted at his own joke, but otherwise left the family to consider.

It was just safer to say ‘yes’ so the ghost thought they were fools. It had nothing to do with wanting to salvage something out of this disaster of an expedition. “Yes. We’ll accept your help, this time.”

“And you aren’t getting any thanks until we’re home, got it?” Good, ghost hunter, bad ghost hunter. An easy enough trick. Even if she wished Jack was the ‘trusting’ one. Yelling would feel nice.

“Yeeeah, kinda expected that too. Rude.” The ghost only shrugged before flying up and out of sight. She half expected to hear the ghost grab the Speeder, but they only really noticed when they started moving. Moving very, very quickly.

She couldn’t help it, her curiosity tamped down some of the fear she should be feeling, pointing out interesting landmasses as they passed, Jack just as enthusiastic to discuss what caused them, if the ghost built them or they were simply generated when a ghost squirmed into existence. A great castle that seemed familiar, an island with some sort of skull as a decoration and thousands of doors. Most ghosts they only could get sparing glimpses at, even when carrying an entire vehicle the ghost boy was fast. Ridiculously so. She thought it was his small figure that contributed to how quickly the pest could move- how the ghost could just vanish out of range in moments. That most of the power behind his physical attacks came from the speed they were delivered with instead of raw strength. Clearly that was an incorrect hypothesis, moving this quickly and carrying so much extra weight without any real difficulty. They slowed near what seemed to be another castle, though it was much less foreboding looking then the other one.

That sinking dread returned after they landed. She had some landmarks, but this much distance would be a big ask to get back. That, and this castle seemed more...occupied, judging by some humanoid ghosts loitering near the gates. One even waved. To them, or the ghost carrying them?

“Okayyy so. Ground rules? Don’t shoot anyone. None of these guys even go through the portal, they’re not the fighting type. Other than that? Have fun, I guess?” He’d stopped floating, standing on the ground beside their stalled craft. He didn’t look as if preparing to fight, which is what she’d assumed the ghost meant by ‘errands’. So what was he up to?

“We won’t do anything if they don’t.” A lie, honestly, but the ghost nodded.

“Wait, what’s that stuff for?” White gloves pointed at the masks the ghost hunters were pulling from under the seats. “Like you can hear me, there’s air out here.”

“It might be safe for ghosts, but we aren’t ghosts.”

Phantom opened his mouth as if to protest before shutting it with a frown. Strange, it was hard to get him to shut up most of the time.

“Nice try, we’re not gonna choke on ghost air today, Phantom!” Jack chuckled, adjusting his mask before popping open the hatch.

“I wasn’t expecting you to- oh whatever. Just don’t embarrass me,” he sounded like a sulking kid, only glancing at them for a moment before kicking off the ground to fly closer to the castle. Off to fight whoever ‘owned’ this area, perhaps?

“Well look at that! Regular plants!” Jack shook her from her pondering, crouched over what looked like a tended to flower bed near the walls. “Well, ghost plants that aren’t trying to attack. Think we should sketch em for the kids?”

“Well Jazz has been more interested in ghosts lately, I suppose.” It was interesting, but she was more curious about the ghost meandering past the walls. They seemed docile, almost like people just walking and apparently talking with one another. Not attempting to fight for territory or resources. Perhaps they were just repeating the memories of their lives over and over? Yet none of them had reacted badly to Phantom zipping past either. A different breed of ghost, perhaps? Or ghosts often had ‘kings’ that kept the lesser ones from squabbling. The large brute of a ghost that stole the town had claimed to be a king of sorts, and this was another castle...but she didn’t want to test anything by getting their attention. They might only act savagely towards humans, being jealous of those still alive after all.

“Yeah, she has! Danno might not like em, but that goth chick he’s eyeing might like em too!” He was already sketching away, quickly getting the basics. He’d fill in the details from memory back home. “You want to try seeing if those ones talk? Not sure how the ghost kid thinks we could embarrass him, ha!”

“Oh he was probably just trying to insult us. He likes to pretend to be a teenager,” she waved that question away, double checking her weapon was easy to reach in case of an emergency. No reason to make their predicament worse by being unprepared. While still considering to go near those ghosts instead of safely observing from a distance. Jack’s enthusiasm was too infectious, really, but that’s how they made so many discoveries!

The ghosts didn’t object to her moving closer, but she kept off the busier paths to be safe. So many stalls of what seemed to be goods, clothing and paintings, rugs and nick knacks. Well, the ghosts didn’t need anything to live, so it would make sense for them to prioritize other items first, but the art was strange. What did the dead know of creativity? Were these all recreations of something found in life? No, some of the paintings had the green skies of the Ghost Zone, implying at least some ‘new’ thought. They were strange, very unlike the wild animals that often attacked the town, or the showy inhuman mimics that tried to claim world domination. They just looked like greener, more transparent people. Barely any of them even floated much. They’d need new categories, they broke too many rules that stayed true on Earth.

“Oh that’s a lovely shade of blue! I wish I could make something like it.” The voice echoed, but it wasn’t growling or mocking. In fact, the ghost woman who had paused beside the hunter was smiling warmly, despite the dead red eyes. “Are you just visiting for a bit?”

“We’re mostly stuck going wherever the ghost boy is taking us, our ship broke down,” Maddie struggled not to frown, her natural inclination to get away from the still potentially dangerous ghost strong with so many fights. She could tell it the truth, in a sense. Phantom was far more likely to be dangerous then this waif of a woman. How she could move in so many ruffles was baffling.

“Oh dear! Well if he’s any trouble you can let Dorthea know, she’s a caring ruler. A human helped her get her rightful throne back, so I’m sure she’d be happy to help!” The ghost tittered a little, as if expecting that to be obvious.

So the ghost did know she was human? Far more alarming was the idea some other human had been dragged this far from home, possibly trapped. Maybe this would turn into a rescue mission. Unless it was too late for them, a distinct possibility. “Oh really? How did that happen?”

“Oh I don’t really know the details, but it was a human that inspired our good Queen that she didn’t need to fear that tyrant and she could fight back. I wish I’d seen it!”

It was disquieting how human the ghost sounded, a friendly sort of gossip. If only she had a way to record it. “The human got back home after helping, right?”

“Well I assume so, she had no intentions of staying here very long, that’s for sure!” She laughed easily, apparently blind to Maddie’s confusion and apprehension, or just unable to see it past the mask and goggles. “I’m fairly sure Sir Phantom took her back, you could ask him.”

Sir? That town terrorizing scoundrel was respected around here? And had been taking humans out of the ghost zone? Probably because he made whoever it was get here in the first place, just to rescue them. Was that why he was here? To stage some new act with this ghost queen? “Right, I might do that.” Would she? This morning she hadn’t expected to talk to ghosts, let alone multiple.

“Oh! If you see any of those angry blobs you can just run back towards the guards and they’ll deal with it. It’s their job, and they’re quite good at it. I actually considered doing that job for a bit, but I like looking after the plants more. Maybe I’ll switch in a decade or two!” The ghost kept talking, apparently taking Maddie’s lack of further questions as permission to keep chattering.

“Can’t you deal with them yourself?” Attacking ghost blobs was something she knew about, and if this ghost was strong enough to mimic humans, shouldn’t it be able to deal with the much less sophisticated tactics of blobs?

“Me? Oh no, I’m not not trained. Do you still have lions on the other side? It would be like trying to fight one of those with a stick!” She laughed, but not unkindly.

“You’re both ghosts though, aren’t you?” Perhaps they differentiated themselves by name in the Ghost Zone? It would lend some evidence to the ‘different breeds’ of ghost hypothesis she was rapidly stringing together.

She tapped at her chin for a moment at the question. “I suppose we are, but they’re more like animals. They might have always been animals, or never alive at all! It’s perfectly safe here though, they usually fight more among themselves.”

Well that was fascinating. Some ghosts didn’t instinctively know how to fight and had to be taught? Yet didn’t consider themselves completely separated from the more animalistic ectoplasmic terrors. Perhaps the more ‘domestic’ setting here made the ghosts less feral and more reliant on their previous memories. Well, the ghost could be lying, but she couldn’t see the benefit she’d gain from deception here. “So you’re kind of stuck here then? We saw a lot of those outside of this place.”

“No no, we’ve got safer ways to travel than just flying around! Not all of us are that brave, dear. Though I don’t think I’d want to stay somewhere else very long anyway. Here it’s safe, all my friends are here and we have one of the largest markets in the whole Ghost Zone. Other ghosts come to us!” There was a hint of pride as she spoke about her ‘home’, gesturing over to some of the stalls Maddie hadn't had time to look at before getting interrupted. “I was really hoping to get something from the seven armed bloke over there, but he’s not very interested in my clothing. Maybe next time.”

Said ‘bloke’ had far too many eyes to go with the arms, and a collection of honestly terrifying little statues with strange designs that made her head hurt if she looked at it too long. A clear outsider to the more human ones, but not causing a stir. So much for constantly fighting out groups, but they barely had anything in common either! Not to mention engaging in some kind of simplistic trading. “So this happens often?”

“Pretty much. It’s fun to make new things, but you get bored of just your own stuff after a few centuries you know? So we swap and find new things.”

Well of course, it’s not like the ghosts needed to trade for something vital to existence. Swapping ‘things’ made more sense in that context. So why weren’t any trying to trade strength or favours? Or simply taking what they wanted? Was it related to having a queen? She had so many questions that knowing what ones needed to be asked was next to impossible. “I suppose you would. How can you tell if a ghost that comes is peaceful?”

“Asking!” She laughed again, apparently finding the question funny. So they didn’t deal with constant attacks from spectres like Phantom trying to ‘take over?’ Why?

“Oh geeze, I’m so sorry if she said anything about trying to-” Phantom’s voice interrupted her thoughts, the ghost suddenly floating beside the other ghost and sputtering.

“Sorry? She’s been perfectly lovely! Haven’t you- oh I’m so rude, I didn’t even get your name!” the ghost tisked at herself, once again strangely apologetic.

“Wait, she has?” His doubtful tone made the ghost hunter scowl. As if he had any room to judge them.

“We’re scientists, not uncontrollable monsters.” Like him. She was fairly sure he caught the implication when the boy muttered something she couldn’t hear.

“Cool. Anyway, got another stop, then I’ll get you two back home.” He still hovered, glancing between the two of them a few times. “Oh. Maddie, that’s her name.”

“Lovely speaking with you Maddie! Had a good trip back, I’m Guenivier if you’re ever in the area again,” she smiled and gave another wave before somehow drifting back into the crowd without displacing even a bit of that dress.

“Who said you can give out my name?” Maddie hissed, once certain the other ghost was out of earshot.

He leaned back on teenager mannerisms, scoffing and heading away. “Because she wanted to know and thinks you aren’t a total ghost hater? It’s not gonna hurt anything.”

“How can I know you don’t have a way to locate people by name?”

He was rolling his eyes again as if she was being ridiculous. “You live in a house with a giant glowing sign. Not exactly subtle.”

“That isn’t in the ghost zone.”

“It’s attached to the ghost zone, it totally counts.”

It really was like arguing with a teenager when he bantered on like this. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Yes ma’am. Sheesh.” He hopped on top of the speeder, kicking his heels against the side. “Hey Jack, you coming?”

“Coming!” he bellowed back, jogging over from the patch of plants she’d left him at. However, he wasn’t just carrying his notebook, but a folded glowing bit of cloth. Some sort of tapestry judging by all the stitching? “Just wanted to get a few more lines done-” he broke off after spotting his wife, apparently reminded that he shouldn’t be so chummy with the ghost. “I mean I leave when I want to, you can’t boss Fentons around!”

“Oh come onnn, can you pretend you don’t hate me for like five minutes? I’m not even doing anything!” Phantom complained, flopping backwards onto the Speeder. “You were totally having a good time”.

“How did you get that, dear?” Maddie chose to ignore their sulking captor and instead look at what Jack managed to gather besides sketches.

“Oh, one of the ghosties liked my pictures and asked to trade for one! So I gave em a page for this! We can study how they made it back home, neat huh?”

Apparently he hadn’t been too worried about it being a trap, but a picture he’d just sketched wasn’t a big ask for something that could teach them a lot about the ghosts in here, so it was a good trade nonetheless. “You did great sweetie. Just make sure to store it safely, just in case.”

“Already on it sweet cheeks!” He was indeed, already pulling out a large sample bag to store their find before opening the hatch again.

“Ew. I changed my mind, go back to threatening me. Sappy is worse.”

Well, at least the ghost regretted his actions a bit. He’d be more sorry if he tried anything, but this did just seem to be something to sooth that hero complex it had. So far, anyway. She was tempted to ask the ghost what it had been up to at the castle, but it didn’t really matter. He’d just lie anyway, he clearly wasn’t the same sort of ghost as the weaker ones back there.

“Ha, he crumples in the face of our love Madds!” Jack laughed, hugging his wife and they got comfortable back in the speeder. “You think he’d take us back home if I said how much I love ya?”

“I so don’t need to hear this.” He was muffled, apparently still flopped on the speeder. He didn’t add anything before the Speeder lifted from the ground and resumed speeding through the strange green expanse.

“Clearly he buys his own teenager delusion.” Maddie mused, content to rest against Jack and look through his sketches. “Did they seem strangely lifelike to you too?”

“Oh sure! They just talked and didn’t even seem interested in going to the human world! Even though one was very jealous of how bright my jumpsuit is.” He leaned a bit to flick a few pages forward. “I sketched a couple and got their names, so we can see if we can look em up. See if they’re similar to their old selves according to history and all.”

“That’s a good idea. I didn’t get a complete name, but apparently they have jobs? Not like the wilder ghosts, and they do have a queen…” she paused, remembering the ‘human’ Phantom apparently ‘helped home. “Hey! You did help someone home from the ghost zone before, did you?”

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, she’s back safe. Wasn’t even a whole day.” He sounded distracted, or at least surprised by the question.

It could be a valuable lead. That, and the human might need help after such an experience. Who knew how ecto contaminated they might be! “Who was it?”

“How should I know? Just because I’m in town a lot doesn’t mean I know everyone’s name.”

She frowned, glancing at Jack who only shrugged. So he hadn’t heard that story, only her. “You know ours.”

“Because you shout them at me and shoot at me a lot? Pretty easy to remember!”

“Ghost kid’s got a point.” Jack admitted, patting her on the shoulder. “We’ll just find who it is ourselves! Just an extra project.”

“What, and just make their life weird again by bringing up ghost stuff? Leave em alone.”

Well now they absolutely had to look into it, if Phantom wasn’t keen on the idea. Better to let him think they agreed though. “True, it could just lead you back to them.”

“Hey! This is all you, not me!”

Jack chuckled. “You’re really good at riling him up. Almost sounds like our Danny like that, getting all touchy about fun family activities!”

“Well he probably copies behaviour from local teenagers,” she didn't like that comparison though. Their children were nothing like life destroying ghosts. It was better to turn her attention to the passing green and how the amount of doors seemed to dwindle as masses of ice started to become the most prominent detail. That made more sense, actually. Phantom had started using ice in addition to ectoblasts, if he came from somewhere with this sort of climate it seemed less out of place with his other abilities. Even if he was otherwise ill suited to snow and ice with how he insisted on looking like a kid.

The next stop felt more like a mistake, with only hills of untouched white powder and ice to see, but the crunch of snow below confirmed they were no longer moving. Good thing they came prepared with heated coats!

“Not a whole lot around here! If it wasn’t for all the green we could pretend we were in Alaska.” Jack chattered as he shrugged a coat on, still apparently too excited to look around to keep his suspicion up. “They don’t all like castles, or maybe it’s a hidden one!”

He better not be thinking Santa had an ice castle. That was probably what he was thinking of, but she didn’t really want to bring up their annual argument at the moment. He could be wrong today, there were more important things to do. “You do realize it’s a frozen wasteland you’ve stranded us on?”

“It’s not that cold.” Phantom objected, circling the Speeder idly.

“Easy for a ghost to say, you’re always cold ghost kid!”

He stopped at that, glancing back at Jack. “It's not that bad, is it?”

“Only because we brought warm clothing. Jumpsuits aren’t enough for the living.” Maddie huffed, looking at the snowfields to find anything worth looking at. The structures of ice were somewhat interesting, but not inherently ghostly.

“Well you guys can stay here, I guess.” The ghost bit at his lip, playing up the concern now that they pointed out a frozen wasteland was cold. Honestly, how did anyone fall for Phantom’s act if he made mistakes like this? “I don’t think Frostbite’s people come out this far…”

“Oh, are they dangerous? We can take any of your little ghostly pals!”

Phantom looked as if Jack suggested exploding a building. “No! Don’t fight any of them! They just look scary, okay? Just ignore them, if any show up.” He didn’t wait for a response before flying off this time, apparently in much more of a hurry this time.

“Sounds like he’s worried about what we can do to his little pals, huh?” Jack elbowed his wife with a grin. “Well, maybe we can find something weird about the ice here!”

It was better to try getting some of the ghost ice instead of doing nothing, though she doubted it would be very different from regular ice, beyond the ectocontamination. Now what would a ghost think is ‘scary looking’? He hadn’t given such a warning when close to all of the other ghosts, after all. It was a bit of a mystery, and none of the ice here had any identifying marks or hints of another odd little ghost ‘civilization’. ‘Frostbite’ wasn’t much of a name either, perhaps they were more like the wild sort that came to Amity?

“Oh hoh! Look at this!” Jack yelled out, pointing to something below him as he waved her over.

A large, clawed footprint left in the snow, and fairly deep. So something monstrous after all, as expected. “Maybe we can get a cast of it?” They had supplies for it, but she wasn’t certain if it would work in the ice correctly. The tracks didn’t go for long, but following them wasn’t a very tantalizing idea. Better to keep a distance and be well armed if they wanted to tangle with whatever left this. It wasn’t as distracting as the previous stop, but the sound of crunches increasing in volume had the couple back on edge and wary.

“Seriously, we should just go-”

It sounded like the ghost boy was near wherever the crunches were coming from, which didn’t improve her mood one iota.

“Nonsense! I have been asking to meet them for how long?” A deep, growling and carrying voice came in response as Maddie readied a weapon.

“Yeah, that’s the problem. You don’t want to, trust me.”

“Seems he doesn’t have a very high opinion of ghost hunters, eh Mads?” Jack was less noticeably readied, still half crouched near the footprint, but his hand hovered where a weapon was concealed. She focused on her breathing as the sound grew louder, eyes narrowed as she spotted a large figure cresting the nearby hill. With the little white haired ghost boy completely at ease near it. Nothing like his regular behaviour, let alone the talking. Why would this huge beast know of them?

“What did I say about not shooting people?” Phantom actually seemed to blush on seeing her holding the weapon, smacking his face. “Okay, you saw them, bye now!”

The large furred creature ignored how the smaller ghost pushed at their shoulder, instead waving with a horrific ice claw, bones gleaming from within as it seemed to rip at the very air. “Well our first meeting was hardly perfect either, I can manage.”

“Yeah but I can’t just pull a ‘won’t shoot a big yeti’ icicle out of their jumpsuits!”

For a human loving ghost, Phantom was certainly very concerned about this giant horned monster being harmed by ‘mere humans’. More proof of his act, at least. Though the large creature did have a cloak of some sort and clothing. He spoke well, if you ignored the fanged mouth and growls. A strange contradiction of appearance and intent. That wasn’t a normal thing for ghosts either, you could gather a decent amount about one by how they looked. So why was this one chatting and apparently interested in seeing two humans? “So, you’re the ‘Frostbite’ he mentioned?” She hazarded a guess, but wasn’t going to put the gun away.

It showed its fangs, maw wide and unnerving. “Yes, I am! It is an honour to meet you” The furry head bowed slightly, as if trying a sort of nod of respect. “Your work assisted the Great One in vanquishing Pariah Dark, we all owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Please don’t call me that. Especially in front of them!” the green eyed ghost practically squawked, somehow flushing even harder when he didn’t even have blood.

Maddie’s mind almost flipped over from the sheer confusion of what this terrifying ghost said. They had ‘helped’ vanquish something? More likely, Phantom had stolen something. So why did this ghost still give them credit? That wasn’t even starting to touch why the ghost boy would be considered great in any aspect. “Assisted him? Do you mean with that ghost who took our town into the Ghost Zone?” She wasn’t sure if that was what the ‘king’ ghost was called, but it made more sense than anything else she could think of.

“Indeed. The King of All Ghosts would have sent the infinite realms into chaos and conflict. Of course we are grateful for your help in preventing that.”

“That’s when you stole the Ecto Skeleton!” Jack spoke up, no longer tense. “You never brought it back.”

“That’s not my fault, that thing almost wasted me! It was gone once I woke up!” The boy objected, but seemed to settle down when the larger ghost ruffled his hair. “I wanted to bring it back.”

“I’m sure now they understand how vitally important that technology was, for your world and ours.” The ghost’s yellow eyes watched them expectantly, the unnerving void of pointed daggers thankfully closed now.

“Well it did get Amity back where it belonged.” Losing the Ecto Skeleton had been a blow, but an acceptable one to get back to normal. The fact that more ghosts seemed to know and care about their part of it was somewhat unnerving. She very much doubted Phantom just ‘lost’ it either. Jack suffered from the demands of the suit, but the ghost was just ectoplasm and electricity. Quite unlikely he could be drained that much, it wasn’t meant for ghosts to use in the first place.

“Your world? Doesn’t the kid live here?” Jack asked, making his wife blink. She hadn’t noticed that odd phrasing.

“No, no. The Great One prefers the human world and his friends. How are they doing?”

He froze up, eyes flicking to the hunters and back to the yeti. “Fine. They’re great.” He darted closer to the two hunters, gesturing at them to move. “Okay let’s go.”

How much interacting was this ghost doing with humans to have ‘friends’ it told other ghosts about? They could be in danger, or used as targets! “No no, we’d love to hear about your friends.”

“Nope, you don’t, gotta get home right? Big hurry, don’t trust me, remember?” He was practically pleading with them.

Frostbite’s ears twitched as he tilted his head. “Don’t trust you? Surely they’re the ones who taught your friends how to drive that craft of yours?”

Phantom had the gall to turn invisible.

“We were unaware anyone other than us was using it, actually.” Maddie didn’t bother to keep the frost from her voice.

“Ah, well at least the good news is I already knew how to make a replacement battery for it when the Great One came asking for help.” His tail twitched, as one of the great claws scratched at his furry chest. “It should be good as new once you can install it.”

So not only was this ghost stealing technology and bringing humans to the ghost zone, it was teaching other ghosts how it worked! The second that ghost was in their grasp, he’d have some serious answering to do. “Do all of you call him that?” It was the only question she could ask without wishing to spit acid, quite frankly.

“All of the Far Frozen recognize him as such, but not all ghosts are the same. He should be proud of the title, a savour of two worlds.”

“Frostbite I’m begging you, stop! It’s embarrassing!” The ghost dropped his invisibility, still looking more like a flustered kid instead of the heroics seeking fame junkie he was.

“Well if it helps your relationship with these ghost hunters, I think it is important that they know.”

“Yeah no. Let’s not.”

It felt like there was something the two ghosts weren’t saying. That, and the fact Phantom didn’t seem to like being hailed as a hero here in the Ghost Zone didn’t make sense. Why all the grandstanding in Amity then?

“Well we’ll be glad for the lift home. You shouldn’t steal from us, kid.” Jack tried a stern approach, and the ghost actually flinched from the rebuke.

“You’re not the only ones who want to map this place out, that’s all,” he didn’t really seem to be answering them, more talking to himself before launching himself at the Speeder again. “You can shoot at me about it back home or whatever.”

“Travel safely! Do try and explore your other half more often, Great one. You’re always welcome here.” His great furry head watched them all easily, seeking out the ghost hunters eyes as well. "I understand you are less interested, but you are welcome to see the realities of my home as well. It may surprise you, in a good way."

She desperately wanted to ask what that monster of a ghost meant by that, but managed to hold her tongue. If all the ghosts here saw Phantom as some sort of godlike hero, chewing him out here wasn’t safe. Jack’s small nod of agreement and warm hug helped, but it couldn’t stop her mind churning. They’d seen and hurt so much, and none of it made any sense! This Frostbite just threw in several more wrenches in the works with only a few sentences, but with how agitated Phantom was getting now wasn’t the time to push their luck. Perhaps when the shoe was on the other foot, and the boy needed their assistance.

He didn’t speak up or grumble this time as they left the frozen land behind. Though that might be them as well,m sitting close together and considering the notes and samples they had taken. That and the huge list of questions Jack had scrawled down in the margins of a sketch of Frostbite. How could a ghost like Phantom truly manage to stay in the human world most of the time? Did it have to do with this ‘other half’ that ghost had mentioned? Would knowing what it was reveal a weakness in the ghost? So many questions, but no answers. Why had Phantom even let them speak to any ghosts, considering how badly he’d reacted to some of the information given? He couldn’t genuinely be wanting to help.

The inviting glow of the portal appeared sooner than either of them could expect, the ghost dropping the ship on the lab floor with a loud clunk.

“See? Home. No ‘evil plan’” he floated into view, and she was fairly sure he only did so to make those air quotes with his hands.

“So you say, ghost kid. Don’t think we won’t be checking for tricks!”

“Yeah sure,” he shrugged, grinning after a moment. “Oh hey, by the way, you do know what the Speeder is powered with, right?”

Maddie didn’t actually know how to take that question. “Of course we do, we built it!”

“Uh huh.” His grin widened as he kicked back, legs vanishing into that strange tail. “All you had to do was take the cover off. It’s the Ghost Zone! There’s ectoplasm everywhere! I just had Frostbite make a backup.”

...Had they really- They had. They’d been dragged around by a ghost for no reason at all! “Why you little-”

He kept laughing before turning and getting out of the way. “Thanks for flying with Phantom Zone Tours! I’m out.” A jaunty wave and he was gone, leaving two baffled ghost hunters behind.

“I think some fudge is in order after that!”

She couldn’t say he was wrong. Maybe fudge could make sense of that whole affair. All that for a prank? It didn’t add up. They’d have a lot of work to do.

[pagesoflauren]

Money’s Worth - You’re Mine

soft husband!Ransom Drysdale x reader

Summary: Starting 2021 answering the question I got asked the most in 2020: “How will the reader react to learning that Ransom hooked up with someone when she was away for Christmas?”

A/N: When y’all filled out this poll, there was a 100% yes answer for a spinoff for The Highest Bidder. Well, here it is: Money’s Worth. In which Ransom is getting $50,000+ worth of experiences with his wife and child(ren). If you have more ideas, don’t be shy, drop ‘em in my ask box! I’ll update this series from time to time. 

If you were tagged in Highest Bidder, I automatically tagged you in this. If you’d like to be removed, let me know! My feelings won’t be hurt, I promise ❤️

Also, I’m sorry if your name is Amanda 🥴

Warnings: smut, swearing, jealousy, angst, daddy!kink

The Highest Bidder Masterlist

Money’s Worth Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“Darling, can you go over to the next aisle and get a couple boxes of pasta?” 

Ransom nods, even though you’re too engrossed in looking at the differences between chickpea-based and gluten-based pasta. 

His son is awake, wide eyes looking around at brightly colored food packages and fluorescent lights with a pacifier in his mouth. From what Ransom recalls of tales from when he was a baby, Harlan Jr. is more like you. Quietly observing, not kicking up too much of a fuss. 

Pinching the baby’s nose gently and coaxing a small giggle out of him, Ransom ventures over to the next aisle to find the pasta you like. 

A sharp gasp and an obnoxious “oh my God,” draws his attention. When he looks up and finds the source of the voice, his stomach gurgles with dread and annoyance. 

“All the times I’ve been here, I’ve never seen you,” she says. “What are you up to? Disappointing more girls in bed?”

Ransom weighs his options in his head. He could dig low, reminding her of all the times she was actually begging for him, or he could take the high ground, grab the pasta, and ignore her. 

He does the latter, though makes the mistake of using his left hand to do so.

“Is that a wedding band?” she scoffs. 

“Yeah, it is--” 

“Oh, Ransom, don’t get that one, we want the bigger noodles.” 

Shutting his eyes, Ransom shouts all the swear words he can think of in his mind. This is such bad timing! 

“No fucking way,” Rebecca--or is it Veronica?--scoffs. 

“Hi,” Ransom sees you give a sickeningly sweet smile and he wants to disappear into the shelves. “I’m sorry, I don’t recall ever meeting you.” 

“I’m Amanda.” 

Wow. Completely different name than the ones his mind was supplying. 

“Your husband and I know each other pretty well.” 

He can see the gears turning in your head, analyzing the situation. 

“Quite frankly, I’m not surprised about the little one. I’m sure he did the same thing to you as he did to me, just finished and decided he was done without fully getting the job done!”

You’re visibly taken aback. “I’m sorry?” 

“Oh, we just hooked up casually like, two years ago? I can’t really remember, it was during Christmas though. Hadn’t heard from him in a while and he mentioned being lonely and I figured ‘Why not?’”

“Two years ago?” you echo, looking at her, then at Ransom. 

“It was casual, I left right after,” he points out, 

“Oh, were you two together then? I’m so sorry--”

“You know what, Veronica, just get your stupid pasta or rice or whatever the fuck you’re here for and leave me and my wife in peace! Don’t you have better shit to do?!”

“It’s Amanda.”

“I don’t care.” 

Rolling her eyes, she leaves, turning on her heel and exiting the aisle. 

Ransom turns back to you and doesn’t like the thoughtful look on your face. You don’t look at him or Harlan, just at the contents in your cart. 

“Hey, don’t let whatever she said get to you. You know I love you,” he reaches for you, fingertip just grazing your cheek and you cringe away from him. 

“Just put the pasta in the cart and let’s go.” 

You’ve snapped at him before to remind him to stop completely at intersections or double check the temperature of Harlan’s bottle. You’ve never snapped at him that way, in irritation as if you can’t stand him. 

He recoils, drawing his touch away from you. “Well, just...let me get the right one.” 

“Ransom,” you deadpan, “I wanna go home. Just put the pasta in the cart and let’s. go.” 

He does as you say, carefully placing the boxes atop the other items. 

You don’t speak to him as you check out and sit in the backseat with Harlan to make sure he’s okay as he drives the three of you home. His little eyelids drop closed, completely calm despite the palpable tension between the two of you. 

Once at home, Ransom takes care of the groceries while you bring Harlan upstairs to his crib so he can continue to sleep. Just as you get him settled, you hear your husband pipe up. 

“So, can we talk about what happened at the grocery store?”

You sigh, straightening up. You cross your arms as you turn to face him. “When was the last time you saw her?” 

“When you were on winter break a few months after you had just moved in.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, a whirlpool of emotions spinning around in your chest. 

You’re angry and hurt, but you don’t know why. The two of you were just starting your sugar arrangement and it wasn’t anything deeper than that. There weren’t any feelings on your end until the following spring. 

“It wasn’t anything, it was just some hook up. She was just being a bitch because I left--”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” you interrupt him. 

You had long reconciled Ransom’s past and never held it against him. But you just cannot pin the exact reason why this revelation bothers you. 

“Look, I’m still figuring out things going on in my head. And I don’t really...I don’t really want to see you right now.” 

“I don’t understand why this is such a big deal,” he argues, “We weren’t anything. We only became a thing in July.” 

“Really?” you wonder. You weren’t going to bring this up, but it feels fair in order to get him to understand your perspective. “I had a crush on someone from my cohort.” You watch his expression shift from annoyed to surprised. “I kissed him once. In November, after I moved in with you. But it didn’t work out because I was living with you, so we decided to not do anything about it.” 

You can see the visible tinge of red on his neck. “Are you saying that just to get at me?”

“It’s the truth,” you say. “Does it bother you?” 

You can see him setting his jaw as he takes in the information. 

“But we weren’t anything, right?” you remind him of the words he spoke just minutes before. 

Ransom doesn’t say anything. He turns away and walks down the hall. You hear him going down the stairs and then the door to his office slams. 

You check on Harlan, he’s still sound asleep. Slightly relieved, you move into your bedroom and sit on the mattress. 

Ransom lets out a long-winded groan when he deletes the sentence he’s been working on for the fifty-second time in twenty minutes. 

He feels odd knowing you liked someone when you were living with him, just as the seeds of his feelings were being planted. He’s taken pride in the fact that he was the only one to have you, but turns out your heart was a better prize and that wasn’t his completely. 

He doesn’t doubt you love him and he’s certain he never has to worry about sharing you ever again, but it still bothers him. 

He scrubs his hands over his face and rubs the back of his neck. 

He remembers fights between his parents never being resolved, which resulted in their marriage slowly disintegrating into a financial arrangement than a romantic relationship. 

He knows you late at night when you’re both hungry; knows you pregnant and crying over hermit crabs while watching nature documentaries; knows you between his arms and keeping him warm, making him feel safe and loved when he felt he didn’t deserve it. He doesn’t want this to turn into anything close to the example of marriage he saw growing up. 

Shutting his laptop, he gets up and marches to the door. When he yanks it open, you’re standing there. 

“What are you doing?” 

You look caught, as if you’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be. “I...I wanted to talk. Unless you don’t want to.”

You begin to leave and he grabs your arm. “No, let’s talk.” 

Stepping into the room feels reminiscent of walking into his office at the publishing house for the first time. You’re not comfortable entering this territory. 

Hugging your arms around your middle, making yourself look as small as you feel, you decide to just be forward. Your words come out sheepishly, “I just...I didn’t like knowing the moment I was gone, you went out and replaced me. Even if we didn’t have an exclusive label. And, I just thought, like, I realize it doesn’t matter because we’re married. And like you said, I know you love me. But, I don’t know. Just didn’t sit right with me.” 

Ransom sighs, shaking his head. “I wasn’t replacing you or anything like that. I...I saw a change in myself from just having you with me for a few months. But I thought you’d leave as soon as you got the opportunity,” he uses a large sweeping gesture as if he’s picturing you leaving all over again. “And I’d…” he hesitates, hand up by his head before his arm goes slack, “be back to my shitty normal self.” 

It’s different now with the explanation, and you wish you had been in the mindset to listen to him earlier instead of hurt him.

“And I get it. Knowing you had a crush on some guy doesn’t sit right with me either. I just,” he looks up and distantly, “I wonder what he had. What made you like him but then you were fine with nothing happening and then you started liking me?” 

“Neither of us were ready for a relationship at the time. We had just started and our first semester was crazy.” You take your turn to explain. “And feelings just come and go sometimes. I saw him again in February and it just...wasn’t there.” 

He takes in your strikingly simpler explanation, understanding your reference to fleeting feelings that are gone almost as quickly as they appear. 

“I’m sorry, Ransom. I shouldn’t have said anything about that. It was so stupid and it really didn’t mean anything--”

“Neither did Amanda.” 

“I…” you trail off, not knowing what to say. 

“I wasn’t being very understanding earlier when you first said it bothered you. You were just trying to get me to know your side of things.” 

“Doesn’t make it right,” you counter. “I really am so sorry.” 

Ransom smiles and laughs to himself. He still doesn’t know how to accept an apology. He sighs, reaching for you. “How long do you think junior will be asleep?” 

“Could be an hour, maybe two,” you answer as he draws you closer with a hand around your waist. 

“Think that’s plenty of time for us to make it up to each other.”

“Technically I need to make it up to you,” you correct him as you take his hand. “And I know how I want to.” 

You lead him back around his desk, ushering him to sit in his chair. It’s large with dark blue velvet, providing enough room for you too and straddle his lap. 

You dive for his mouth, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. 

His left hand comes to cradle your jaw, keeping your lips locked onto his, while his right hand drifts down your back to cup your bottom. 

You grind your core against his, smiling when you feel his hips jut up to yours. Tilting your head you give a tentative lick into his mouth. He opens up, bringing his tongue in to play with yours. 

It reminds you of how it was when it started; being shy  and letting him take the lead. You haven’t fallen into this cloudy headspace in a long time, but it feels so good that when you pull back and gasp the word “daddy,” it feels so natural. 

Ransom, on the other hand, is taken aback. He’s gotten used to you calling him “darling” or other terms of endearment. Hearing you call him that awakens something that had long gone into hibernation; and he wasn’t sure if it would ever see the light of day again. 

But like you, he slips into the space, creating a firm grip on your ass as a smirk appears on his face. 

“Wanna call me ‘daddy,’ baby? Hm?” he taunts. Your eyes are wide and doey, feigning innocence when he knows you’re far from it now. “Well, guess we can do that. We’ll make up for that night I wasted on someone else.” 

He watches your brows furrow and eyes squint in anger. Your hands slide into his hair, fingers tightening in the tresses. It creates a pull on his scalp, something he enjoys. “You’re mine, daddy,” you whisper just before your lips are on his again, kissing him harder than before, certain to bruise. 

You pull away and lean down to nip at his neck, hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You pop the button and undo the zipper unceremoniously. 

You remove yourself from his lap only to kneel between his legs on the carpet, pulling his jeans down to his knees. His boxers are quick to follow, revealing his hardening member. You grasp it, giving it a few squeezes and tugs the way you know he likes, watching his head loll back against the back of his chair. 

“This is mine, too,” you say. 

“Yeah?” he pants, looking down at you. A hand grazes through your hair, stopping at the back of your head. “My cock only belongs to you?” 

You nod, working him with more determination. 

“Then take it, baby.” 

You practically lunge for it, leaning forward to take him into your mouth, lips spreading to accommodate his girth. 

You’re satisfied with the sound Ransom makes, something between pained and blissful. He eggs you on, gathering your hair into a ponytail secured with his hand as he guides you to take more and withdraw in rhythm. 

You want him to finish in your mouth, but he pulls you off him and makes to lift you back onto his lap. You stand, already shimmying out of your bottoms. 

Straddling him again, you focus your attention down to poise yourself just above the head of him. 

He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and makes you look at him before crashing his lips on yours once more. 

“Take what’s yours, baby. It’ll always be yours,” he whispers. 

You sink down, crying out at the feeling of him within you. The doctor had just given you the green light to resume sex as normal after Harlan’s birth weeks ago, but you haven’t been able to find a lot of time to tangle with each other without your baby or Ransom’s book needing attention. 

Ransom appears to have an equally hazy feeling, looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes. You straighten up slightly until just the tip of him is in and lower yourself again. 

It’s so much for the both of you that his hands come to your waist and he guides your pace. “Slow,” he instructs you. 

You obey, finding a steady pattern as you build a climax for the both of you. Coaxing your hips the slightest bit forward, Ransom sinks all the way to reach that spot within you that makes you see stars. 

“Like that, baby?” he taunts you again, moving your hips up and down his length. “Tell daddy.” 

“Yes,” you gasp, “Just like that, daddy.” 

He works you until you’re nearing your end, tightening and pulsing around him to bring on his orgasm as well. Just as you’re about to fall over the edge, he taps below your eyes, a silent request for you to look at him. 

Your eyes meet his and he verbalizes exactly what he’s thinking. “I’m yours,” he pants, “I’m yours, my baby, my sunshine.” You fall forward and kiss him, letting him swallow your moans and whines. “Come for me, let me show you.” 

Your body weakens in his grasp, leaning onto him for support. Your movements falter and he makes up for them, jutting his hips up until he’s finishing within you. 

You gasp at the warmth that blooms in your stomach, feeling like gravity is failing but it’s okay; Ransom’s holding onto you, keeping you grounded. 

He holds you tightly as you breathe heavily, trying to recover your strength. You sigh and your arms wrap around his shoulders. You hear him chuckle and lean back. 

“We should’ve thought this through better,” he smiles, “We gotta get upstairs and clean up.” 

You moan your disappointment. “M’tired. Can’t we just stay here a bit?” 

Moving your hair out of your face, he kisses your exposed forehead. “Okay, sunshine,” he agrees. “Just a few minutes.” 

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[mystical-flute]

Hustling For the Good Life (SFWeek Day 3)

No Curse (Our World) AU or Season 3 AU

@mysteryandnonstopfun

AO3 || FFN

Emma’s stare was harsh and aimed in the direction of her parents and Regina. “We can’t.”

There was absolutely no time to argue. Pan’s curse was steadily drawing near, the sky already taking on a dark, ominous hue, swallowing up the buildings and people that had called Storybrooke home for twenty-eight years.

“Emma, you have to go. It’s the only way to keep Henry safe!” Snow protested.

Neal turned away from the small family, and looked at Belle. “Are you going to be okay, Belle?”

“Don’t worry about me. Your father would want you and Henry to be safe, Bae,” she said. “Besides, Snow has been kind enough to allow me to stay with them… if we’re able to get back to their castle.”

So much was unknown about what was going to happen. Neal was worried he might throw up.

He put on a brave smile that he knew neither of them bought.

“You guys need to hurry!” Ruby suddenly cried, glancing over her shoulder at the purple storm clouds racing toward them. “It’s almost here!”

Neal squeezed Belle’s hand and turned to Emma and Henry. “Let’s - let’s get to safety, then.”

He should have been happy that the life he and Emma deserved to have was within his grasp, but like everything with magic, the price was too damn steep, and it wouldn’t be worth it.

They might not remember Storybrooke, but he knew the pain in Snow, David, and Regina’s eyes would never leave.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” he said, passing Regina on his way to the bug.

“Just keep Henry safe. Please.”

“You know we will.”

Neal gave Hook one final glance, and a single nod of acknowledgement before he got in the passenger’s seat once Henry was safely in the back. He and Emma clasped their hands over the gear shift, the familiar rumbling of the bug almost making him smile as Emma began to drive.

None of them took their eyes off the mirrors as their loved ones -

“Em? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked, glancing at her. “Allergies acting up?”

Emma took her hand off his, using it to wipe her eyes before she pulled to the side of the road. “No - sorry. I just got a little overwhelmed at the thought of our apartment in Boston. We’ve lost everything, Neal. Our clothes, our furniture, our pictures - ”

“But not our lives,” he said, rubbing her back. “Emma, we’re lucky we weren’t home when the fire broke out. We can replace the stuff, but we can’t replace each other.”

Henry looked up from his game. “I’m not reenacting those baby pictures.”

Neal snort-laughed. “You don’t have to, bud. But just be aware that your mom and I might take a few extra pictures of you for the foreseeable future.”

Henry scowled, rolling his eyes, and immersed himself in Zelda again.

Emma chuckled. “New York then. Almost home.”

---

“It’s a boy!” the doctor announced, Henry’s cries cutting through the air.

“Healthy pair of lungs on him,” the nurse chuckled, rubbing him down. “Oh darling, it’s okay. Let’s get you to Mama, hmm?”

Emma and Neal, two terrified eighteen year olds, were in shock as the nurse laid him in Emma’s arms.

“H - hi baby…” Emma whispered as his cries slowly died down and he stared at them with wonder in his dark eyes. “I’m - I’m your mama… and that’s your daddy…”

The first year had been rough, of course. They lived in a tiny, one-bedroom apartment in Tallahassee, waitressing and whatever else they could find. They clawed and saved whatever they could, to give Henry more than what they’d had.

But more important than things, was love. Henry had two parents that loved him more than anything in the world, which is much more than Neal or Emma could say for themselves.

They were happy, most of all. Yeah the apartment was a squeeze, and there were on and off issues with bugs, but through it all, the three of them were happy.

They married when Henry was three - a small ceremony in Boston after they’d moved there for Emma’s job. He’d gotten a better job not long after that, as a photographer, and he was really, really good at it, like Emma was good at tracking down criminals.

And so the little family moved up in the world. From a one-bedroom apartment to a two bedroom, they could buy new toys and clothes for Henry instead of hoping they found something at a thrift store or garage sale. It finally felt like they were where they were meant to be.

Emma’s twenty-eighth birthday came and went, and Neal felt a twist of guilt in his gut when August’s voice echoed in his head.

The problem was, Neal hadn’t heard anything from August. No postcard, no email… nothing. No information as to where this supposed curse was?

So how was he supposed to get Emma to her supposed destiny if he didn���t know where he was going?

He had a job, a family. They couldn’t just drive across the country and hope they got lucky.

Then there had been the fire, the spring after Emma’s birthday. They’d been on a camping trip in Maine, Neal taking photos of the coast and Emma insisting Henry needed less time in front of the screen, when they’d gotten the call.

Everything in their apartment was gone, the building itself almost totally a loss.

He’d been transferred to New York.

So they’d started over, again.

New York had been good to them - incredibly so.

The magazine he’d gotten a job with had offered to pay for their rent for two months while they got new furniture and settled into the city.

Henry was thriving in school, making friends and joining the art club. It was everything Neal had ever hoped for.

And after they’d settled in, new furniture and wardrobes abound, they had received a call from one of Emma’s contacts with the NYPD. A two year old girl had been found in an abandoned apartment. No family that the cops or child services could find, and the girl didn’t say anything other than her name - Audrey.

So they’d taken her in, adoption paperwork being expedited given the strangeness of the situation.

All she had to her name was a pink baby blanket, not unlike the one Emma had.

It felt like fate, adopting Audrey the way it happened.

Or something else, but Neal pushed that thought aside as he situated her in her chair, watching as she carefully fed herself.

Emma slid into the seat next to her, a plate in her hand.

“Busy day today?” she asked.

“Nah, just editing the pictures from the Elton John concert last night. I can do it from here,” he said with a shrug, glancing over at a knock on the door. “I got it.”

When he pulled the door open, he’d wished he hadn’t.

“Baelfire.”

He felt the color drain from his face. “Hook. What the hell are you doing here?”

To his shock, Hook actually looked relieved to see him, like it hadn’t been 200 years since they saw each other. Like they had actually been friendly last he saw him. “I came to get you three, Baelfire. To take you home.”

“Home? You must be insane. I am home.”

“Emma’s parents need help, Baelfire. So does your father.”

His eyes narrowed. “Did August send you?”

Hook’s face radiated confusion. “Who’s August?”

That was a no, then, and that didn’t make Neal feel any better about Hook being here. He shouldn’t even know what he looked like - he’d been fourteen when they last saw each other! “Why should I believe you? After everything? And why would you give a damn about my father?”

“He saved my life.”

Neal laughed, then winced when he remembered Emma and Henry were only feet away. “Why would he save you ?”

Hook shrugged. “I was collaterally saved.”

“As always,” he spat.

“Dad?” Henry called. “You okay?”

“Just a second, Henry!” Neal turned back to Hook and narrowed his eyes. “Get lost. Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want it.”

Hook sighed, holding out a piece of paper. “Fine. If you change your mind, I’m staying here.”

Neal frowned as he took it, watching Hook disappear back down the hall. How had Hook been able to get a hotel room?

This was weird, and despite his instincts telling him to stay away from anything related to the Enchanted Forest, Hook had mentioned Emma’s parents. If they were involved in this, maybe there was more to Emma being left on the side of the road.

So, with Henry at school, Emma at work, and Audrey at daycare, Neal did what his brain was yelling at him not to do, and wandered to the address Hook had given him. To his surprise, it wasn’t a hotel at all, but an apartment building. He was let in no problem, and stood in front of the door.

Why was this familiar?

He pushed the door open, and resisted the urge to toss his keys on a nearby table (why had he wanted to do that?). Instead, he picked up an envelope that caught his attention, dropping it in shock.

Why was his name on it?

He left the envelope on the floor, glancing again around the apartment, and his heart stopped.

The yellow dreamcatcher he and Emma had snatched was hanging from a window. Rushing to it, he lifted it into his hands, afraid it would break.

It should have burned in the fire. How was it here?

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Hook’s voice rumbled from the doorway.

Neal spun around. “Hook, what the hell is this?”

Hook didn’t answer, instead, he pulled a vial of blue liquid from his pocket and held it out. “Your memories of the past year have been erased, Bae.”

“Neal.” He made no move to take the vial.

Hook sighed. “Neal. Please. You have to trust me.”

“Why?”

“It’s like I said - Emma’s family is in danger. A witch is plotting something against her parents. I only just escaped in time before they were sent back to Storybrooke.”

Neal bit his lip and looked around the apartment again. That might explain why he never heard from August, but getting Emma to do anything regarding her parents would be worse than pulling teeth.

He took the vial and drained it, lurching back in pain when the memories began to flood in.

Oh no.

Neal’s eyes were wide with horror as they settled down, and looked up at Hook again. “Killian…”

Killian grinned. “There you are, lad.”

“How’s Belle?”

Killian had a hesitant look on his face. “She’s… as well as she can be. Your father is alive, Bae, but he’s missing, and with Emma’s parents in danger - ”

“The witch might have something to do with it.” She probably had something to do with it, really. “What about Emma and Henry’s memories?”

Hook pulled out two more vials, his face sad. “I’m sorry I had to wake you up, Bae.”

He sighed, remembering the devastation before they’d crossed the town line, Emma’s tearful, almost childish refusal to leave her parents, and the broken look Regina had tried to hide when Henry wasn’t looking. “Don’t be. This is… going to be for the best.”

What it meant for him and Emma, time would only tell.

The Bug was quiet as they raced through the night, back to Storybrooke. Hook, Henry, and Audrey were asleep in the back, but Neal was wide awake.

“Emma…” he said quietly. “About us - ”

Her head snapped over, visible confusion on her face. “What about us?”

“I mean… the marriage, the amount of love we have for each other - ”

“False memories or not, the love I have for you is real, Neal Cassidy,” she said. “I was going to meet you at Granny’s, give you that second chance before Pan’s curse. Although… I guess that was a second chance too.”

Neal smiled, relieved. “So you wanna stay married to me?”

Emma smiled back. “Neal Cassidy, I’ll marry you in any lifetime.”

[bluebellwriting]

Love Me Tender Part 3

(Note: I know Molly hasn’t been confirmed as a demon nor is she in Hell, but for the sake of the story, I’m saying that she is a demon and she is in Hell. There’s not a lot of information on the spider fam so I’m going to be taking some liberties here)

Sunday dinners at your dad’s home have always a tradition, even when you all were alive. It wasn’t religious, Lord knows if it had been you probably wouldn’t have ended up here. But when your family spends every day of their lives and afterlives meeting with mob bosses, disposing of bodies, and doing drugs, it was nice to have a reason to come together and remind each other that you were all still here. It was because of those dinners and the evenings spent cooking with your Nonna that your love of cooking came to fruition.

Oh, your Nonna. You’ve tried looking for her down here, even though you know that there was no way she was deserving of a place like this. She was a saint, the mother you deserved instead of the mother you actually had. Your mother was cold, lazy, vain, couldn’t care for her children to save her life, judgmental -- she always insisted you try whatever insane weight loss trend was popular. Nonna was kind, understanding, taught you to be tough but also how to take care of those you loved, and never tried to pit you and your sister against each other. She’s honestly the only reason yours and Molly’s relationship survived.

But when she died, you took over as the family’s cook as the only person who could actually make something without burning it. Until you yourself died at the ripe age of 23, long before the rest of your family. Your family doesn’t talk about it much, but you can just imagine what the first dinner without you was like. How sad and empty, how burnt the food must have been if there even was any.

But you’re together again and your dinners were able to survive your family’s plunge into the afterlife. Apparently, so did your family home.

As soon as you entered the threshold of the home, you and Angel were smushed into a hug by Molly.

“My darlings!” She cries. Angel and you snuggle into the warm arms of your sister and wrap your arms around her.

“How are ya, Mol?” Angel asks.

“Oh, ya know, same old, same old.”

“Are those creeps giving you trouble at the store?” You take a step back and eye your sister up and down, looking for any physical manifestation that those creepy men crushing on your sister are up to no good.

“Not since you had a little chat with them, (N/N),” she teases.

Molly’s eyes brighten at the sight of your outfit.

“Ooh! You’re wearing the new skirt and blouse! It’s so pretty on you, (Y/N)! And I know I always say this but you have a great rack girl, ya gotta show it off like this more.”

You blush brightly and cross your arms over your torso.

“Gee thanks, Molly,” you mumble.

“I don’t know how you haven’t found a man yet with that bod!” She squeals and pinches your cheeks.

“Well, since ya mentioned it...” Angel smirks.

“Nope!” You shout and storm further into the house to avoid your baby siblings.

Molly looks back at Angel with an arched brow, the question looming in the air.

You make it to the kitchen, where your father and brother are heating up the food you left here last week. You turn your nose up.

“You know, I could have made something fresh. This is all a week old! And here I thought you were going to cook for once.”

“Very funny, (Y/N),” Niss grumbles, stirring the pasta sauce you had brought over last time.

“How are ya, sweetheart?” Henroin gives you a warm hug, one that is snug and warm and reserved for his unofficially favorite child.

“I’m good, dad. Doing just fine.”

“They’re running you ragged at that hotel.”

“Which means I’m left to pick up the slack,” Niss growls. You pull away from the hug and pull your brother into a forceful hug, just to make him uncomfortable. You were the same height as Niss and a year younger, and as grumpy and infuriating he can be, you always felt the closest to him. You’d like to think he felt the same, considering he scolds you the least. Or maybe that’s just because you’re way stronger than him and you have wrestled him to the ground.

“I know, but I’m doing this for Angel--”

“Anthony,” Niss hisses.

“If he tells me he wants to go by Angel, then I’m calling him Angel.” You narrow your eyes, your irises flashing a dangerous red and your teeth grow into vicious fangs in an instant. Niss rolls his eyes but backs down, trying to hide the shiver that went up his spine.

“I still don’t see how they’re supposed to help him.”

“Neither do I but I genuinely believe that that hotel is his only chance.”

“But why do you have to be there, too?” Your father asks.

“Because I’m the only one who knows how to handle him,” you beam.

“And because she’s dating the Radio Demon,” Molly squeals as she bursts in the kitchen, followed closely by a smirking Angel.

“What?!” Your brother and dad yell.

“I am not dating the Radio Demon, right, Angel?” You stalk over to him and stomp on his foot.

“Ah! Fine, fine. But she’s got him wrapped around her little finger, don’t ya, sis?”

“What the hell does that mean, (Y/N)?” Niss growls. Your father just stares at you, his eyes empty of all emotion but his shoulders are tensed.

“It means nothing. We work together and. That’s. It.” Everyone in the kitchen is staring at you. Angel is smirking, Molly is biting her lip as she holds in a squeal, Niss looks as though he’s about to punch a wall, and your dad is still staring at you. Their eyes are like deadly sunbeams and your body is a wilting flower. You wrap your arms around yourself, wishing the ground would just swallow you up and transport you to Second Hell, or whatever lies beyond this reality. A part of you finds yourself longing for arms to hold you, to wrap around you and shield you. Longing for grey arms in a red suit to protect you.

Oh jeez, maybe you do love him.

“The sauce is burning,” you break the silence and move towards the stove. “Is the pasta ready?”

“Yeah,” Henroin says and brings a bowl of noodles to the already set table. You turn the stove off and slip on two oven mitts to bring over the pot of sauce.

“Sit down,” you command. Your siblings scurry to their seats as your dad and you arrange everything on the table.

Once you’ve all sat and filled your plates (and taken away Angel’s phone), you turn to your dad.

“So what was the big announcement?” You ask.

Henroin swallows, “Not so much of an announcement, more of a request of you and Anth-- Angel. I know this hotel has been good for you,” he says to your brother. “And it sounds like it’s been... good for you too, (Y/N). But I need you to start pulling your weight around here, especially you, (Y/N).”

“Why me?” (Y/N) you ask, sending your father an incredulous look. “I thought I told you I wanted out of all of that nasty business.”

“Because some of our partners respond better to you. You have a way with people, in the way that is below my stature and beyond anything your brother can do.”

“Dad!” Niss yells, offended.

“Shut up. Now listen, (Y/N), you can still stay at the hotel, do whatever the hell it is you do there,” he gives you a pointed look, hinting that he hasn’t forgotten the Radio Demon business.

“But when I need you to attend a meeting or negotiation,” he continues. “I expect you to be there. You owe your family that.”

You look down at your barely-picked-at-plate, having suddenly lost your appetite.

“I’m guessing you have a meeting soon that you think I’d be well-suited for,” you mumble.

“There’s an Overlord we need to do some business with and I finally convinced her to have an audience. But word on the street is that she responds better to friends or women. And since we’re not friends and I’m definitely not sending Molly--”

“Daddy, you wound me!”

“--That leaves you, kid. We’re counting on you.”

You nod your head. The conversation continues, your siblings argue, Henroin gives you details for the meeting but you let it all wash over you like a wave. You actually thought you could finally start living for yourself for once, that you could stop taking care of others. You were wrong.

---

The city is alive with the sound of laughing and screaming, but all you can think about is the meeting tomorrow with Rosie, an Overlord and the owner of Rosie’s Emporium. Your eyes are heavy from the chaotic dinner, the three times you had to keep Niss from launching himself across the table at Angel, Molly talking your ear off about some cute man who would be perfect for you, and the new weight that has been added to your shoulders. It takes everything in you not to crash the car on your way home.

When you arrive back at the hotel it’s late at night and somehow Angel has boundless energy. He prances to the door, calling out about some party he’s been invited to by Cherri.

“Angel, it’s a Sunday night,” You scold.

“And? My work doesn’t exactly require me to be up and at em at 8, doll.” He bursts through the doors and immediately goes over to Husk and the bar, probably to pregame. You shuffle your way inside after him, rubbing your temples in an effort to tame the ache developing in your head.

“Oh, darling,” Alastor sings. He dances into the lobby from the kitchen, smile as wide as ever, holding two steaming mugs. Except instead of one of his pristine suits, he is dressed in slacks, suspenders, a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a red apron. He looks completely and utterly adorable, and you’re just loving the view of his lithe forearms.

As soon as he heard Angel’s voice bothering Husk, Alastor came running to the lobby with the hot chocolate he had spent hours perfecting. His first batch was too bitter, the second far too sweet for anyone’s liking, and the third was accidentally consumed by Charlie (who is now hiding somewhere in the hotel to avoid his wrath). Plus, he had to endure Charlie’s relentless teasing. But he was certain this would be the perfect cup of liquid goodness to impress his sweetest darling. And judging by your tense shoulders and the stress in the lines of your face, you would definitely be needing something to lift your spirits.

“Goodness, did the dinner not go well?”

You released a deep, exhausted sigh, and lifted your head slowly to meet his eyes. For a moment, Alastor wonders if this might have been the wrong move. You were clearly worn out. You probably just wanted to shut yourself in your room and go to bed and not have anything to do with him and his boyish attempts to woo you. Hot chocolate, really? What was he thinking? Someone like you deserved something lavish, and you would probably scoff at something so simple as a hot drink.

His shoulders deflate at your lack of smile.

“It went about the same as it always did,” you sigh. “Siblings fighting, me saving dinner, my sister trying to set me up with some man.”

Alastor has to restrain the growl bubbling up in his chest.

Your eyes fall to the two mugs in his hands. You sniff the air and smile at the rich scent.

“Is that hot chocolate?”

“Oh... yes, it is.”

“Mm, is there any left?”

“Well of course! I made this cup especially for you, dearest!” He practically shoves the mug into your hands.

You quickly lift the mug to your lips and hope to all that is good and holy that he chalks your blushing cheeks to the heat of the drink.

“Oh, Alastor, this is wonderful. Thank you. I really needed this after the night I had.” You smile up at him, the lines in your face easing immediately. It’s enough to make the Radio Demon’s knees quake.

“You are absolutely welcome...” He pauses. The original plan was to woo you with the drink, whisk you off to a remote corner of the hotel, and attempt to confess his undying love to you. But the yawn you try to stifle almost causes him to deflate. Almost.

“Would like to talk about it, love? I’m all ears! U-Unless you’re too tired. You absolutely do not have to--”

Love. Love. You grip the mug tighter.

“Actually, Alastor, that would be lovely. If you don’t mind.”

Alastor grins.

“Not at all.”

He places a hand on the small of your back and transports you both to the library. He snaps his fingers and a fire lights up the room for you both. You flop onto the couch and Alastor takes a seat beside you, making a point to sidle up to you as you proceed to detail everything about your day.

At first you were rather restrained, convinced that the last thing this important, powerful, strong, kind, considerate, lovely man wanted was to listen to your problems. But as he asked more and more questions, he opened you up like an oyster, waiting patiently for the pearl inside.

“So now I’m meeting with this Rosie tomorrow. Something about transporting her goods across territories.”

“Rosie, you say?”

“Yes. Oh, do you know her?”

“Why yes! She’s an old and dear friend. But, um, quite ruthless towards strangers. You said you’re going alone?”

“Right.”

“Is that... normal? I mean, for you to go alone to meet such dangerous individuals.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve been doing so since I was 18 and alive.”

Alastor chokes on his drink.

“That young?”

“I grew up in the mafia, Al.” You send him a coy smile. “I’m not as defenseless as I look.”

“Oh, I never doubted that, dearest, but... to not have anyone there for support...”

“When you grow up the way I did, you learn not to trust anyone. Not fully at least, and definitely not until you know them well enough.”

“Is that right... Do... Do you trust me, then? Or have I not earned that honor?” Alastor smiles at you but within he is a mess. This is it. The moment you tell him that he’s far too dangerous, too vicious, too disgusting for you to ever let into your life in the way he craves.

“You’re on your way.” You smirk at him and the light floods back into his body. That’s a start.

“So, would you allow me to accompany you tomorrow then?”

“Oh, no, Alastor I could never impose on you like that--” He’s just being polite, you tell yourself. He doesn’t actually want to spend time with you outside of the hotel, isn’t actually concerned with whether you die at the hands of this Rosie.

“Nonsense, my darling.” He leans down, smelling the chocolate on your breath. His nose is so close to yours, your lips just as near to his. He could lean forward just a bit, feign a fall, just for one chance to kiss you like he’s dreamed.

“I would love nothing more than to be your knight in shining armor.”

You smile, “Just to be clear, if you are going to escort me, Alastor. I am no damsel in distress.” You boop his nose and giggle at the hot blush on his cheeks.

“But,” you continue, “I would love nothing more than to have your company tomorrow.”

“Well, then have it you shall, love.”

[olliedollie1204]

between the lines

The kids are sick. Their parents help.

Pairings: Romantic Anamoceit, Familial Anamoceit with kids Logan, Roman, and Remus.

Word Count: 3,949

Warnings: Brief descriptons of sickness, including fever and vomiting.

this is a sequel fic for my WIP For Future Reference AU (you can find the other parts here on tumblr, and here on AO3) 

(Read it here on AO3!)

Being a parent for almost a decade taught you certain things about children. How to comfort them, how to protect them, how to love them unconditionally. How to teach them right from wrong, and how to show them the way the world works, and how to help them grow as happy and healthy human beings.

None of those skills were as helpful as being able to tell when a child was out of bed in the middle of the night.

Janus didn’t know what exactly had woken him up. Maybe it was the creak of a bedroom door. Maybe it was the thumps of a pair of bare feet moving down the stairs. Maybe it was the clumsy sound of a wooden kitchen chair being dragged across a linoleum floor.

Whatever the reason, he found himself suddenly awake, staring at the ceiling as he resigned himself to the fact that one of his kids was absolutely up past bedtime.

He rolled over, only to find Patton already staring back at him.

“Your son is awake.”

Janus closed his eyes again. “Before sunrise, he’s your son.”

On Janus’ other side, Virgil snorted himself awake. 

“Too early to quote Disney,” he slurred before blinking awake. “Why is it early.”

“Kid’s awake,” Patton replied.

“All of ‘em?”

“Better not,” Janus said. Patton sighed, dragging a hand down his face.

“I’ll check.” He threw his legs over the bed, dipping the mattress and making Virgil roll into Janus. When he left and the mattress was righted, Virgil didn’t let go.

Janus dragged his eyes over, blinking slowly. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Virgil replied, nuzzling his face into Janus’ shoulder. “How you feelin’?”

“Fine.”

“Fine’s not great.”

“Fine is fine, shut up.”

He fumbled to find Virgil’s hand in the dark, squeezing it tightly. Virgil repeated the gesture before sighing, rolling over even more to shove his face into the pillow.

“You need a new mattress,” his muffled voice said.

“Oh, do we?” Janus replied tiredly. Virgil nodded.

“For your leg.”

“How’s a new mattress gonna help my leg?”

Virgil raised and dropped one shoulder in a weak shrug. “Posture and shit.”

“How clinical,” Janus deadpanned. Virgil turned his head to look at him, his cheek marked with the pillow’s texture.

“It’s three A.M., bite me.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Janus replied, then paused. He and Virgil looked at each other for a moment, slow smirks growing on their faces.

“Knock knock!” Patton called, stopping them from moving forward with any biting-related activities; his instincts to warn his partners before entering were correct, because when the two of them turned to the door, all they could make out was the silhouette of Patton with a little one in his arms.

Virgil sat up, switching on the bedside lamp. “Hey, Roman.”

“Hello, darling,” Janus immediately added. The little boy was slumped in Patton’s arms, his cheek resting against his father’s broad chest. His eyes blinked slowly, taking in the sight of his parents on the bed and greeting them with a small wave.

“Hi, Papa, hi, Bibi,” he said softly, his usually bright voice dampened with exhaustion.

Janus made grabby hands as Patton moved closer, shifting the child with ease into his arms. Janus turned him around and began smoothing a hand through his hair, but stopped when the palm of his hand brushed against Roman’s forehead.

He and Virgil’s eyes met at once, just as Patton sighed and nodded.

“Bad news, buckaroos— he’s got a temperature,” Patton said lightly, sitting on the edge of the bed and laying a hand on Roman’s cheek. “Got all the way out of bed to get some water, didn’t you?”

At this, he lifted up the plastic sippy cup he’d been carrying in his other hand. Roman nodded, weakly reaching out from where he sat in Janus’ lap.

“I’m thirsty.”

Janus tutted, pulling his son into his chest and kissing the back of his head.

“I know, poor baby,” he murmured, taking the sippy cup from Patton’s outstretched hand. As he leaned back and began helping Roman drink from the cup, Virgil caught Patton’s eye and gestured his head toward their attached bathroom. Patton nodded, and the two moved away from the bed to reconvene in the bathroom.

“It’s probably the flu,” Patton started as soon as the door was shut, already rummaging through the medicine cabinet. Virgil leaned back against the door and crossed his arms.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Patton said, the fatigue in his voice nearly gone and replaced with concern. “Apparently the whole preschool’s got it.”

“You checked Remus yet?” Virgil asked. Patton shrugged, pulling a bottle up to his eyes so he could squint at the label.

“I’ll stick my head in there— if he’s awake, then yeah, we’ll see,” he confirmed. He turned to Virgil and held up the bottle, the label of the store-brand flu medicine on full display.

Virgil gave a sympathetic wince. “Uh oh.”

“Yep,” Patton replied, smiling in resignation. He moved to open the bottle but Virgil held out a hand to stop him.

“We got it. You check the kids.”

The other man didn’t even protest, merely shooting Virgil a grateful grin and pressing the bottle into his hands.

“Good luck,” he said as he moved past Virgil to push open the door, letting the bathroom light spill into their bedroom.

By now, Roman’s sippy cup was empty and laying discarded on the bedside table, while the child himself was still tucked warmly against Janus’ chest. He was murmuring lowly to Roman as Virgil approached the bed, although his eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of the bottle concealed in Virgil’s palm.

“Roman?” he said, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. “Bibi and I are gonna get you some medicine, okay?”

Of course, this announcement was met with muted whines and emphatic head shakes from the toddler.

“I don’t want medicine.”

Virgil moved to sit at the foot of the bed, facing Roman as he said, “I know, Romie, but it’ll make you feel better.”

Again Roman shook his head, new tears forming in his eyes. “It’s gross in my mouth.”

“It’s gross, and it’ll make you feel better,” Janus continued gently, moving to stroke Roman’s hair again, but the toddler ducked away from his hand and fought to wriggle out of his lap. Janus let him go immediately, and Roman crawled right away until he was sitting between his parents on the bed.

Virgil and Janus exchanged a sympathetic glance. Roman wasn’t even trying to run away; he was just sitting there, tears dangerously close to spilling over, and his hands picked at the comforter without meaning.

“Roman…” Janus said quietly. Roman looked up at them, just as his exhausted tears began to fall. 

“Come here,” Virgil urged gently, pulling Roman into his lap and wrapping his arms around his back. Janus scooted forward, laying a gentle hand on Roman’s head and stroking his hair as he cried.

“Shh, it’s okay, honey,” Virgil whispered, rocking Roman back and forth. “It’s okay. We’ll help you. It’ll make you feel so much better. You feel pretty yucky right now, huh?”

A few seconds passed before Roman pulled his face out of Virgil’s chest, sniffing pitifully. “Uh huh.”

Janus leaned forward to stroke Roman’s cheek.

“The medicine will help you feel good again. We promise, darling.”

There was silence for a few beats. Roman’s quiet cries abated, and he moved to rest his cheek against Virgil’s chest instead.

“Will you take it?” Virgil asked gently. Roman sniffed again, wiping his snotty nose on Virgil’s t-shirt (he has kids, he’s used to it) before nodding.

“Uh huh,” he whimpered. Janus leaned forward to kiss the back of his head.

“That’s very good, angel. Thank you for being so brave.”

Virgil nodded, squeezing Roman tight. “Our brave little Roman.”

He turned Roman around in his lap to face Janus, who was working on pouring the medicine into the cap. The sight of the sickly pink liquid made Roman give a shuddering exhale.

“Hey, Roman, look at this,” Virgil interjected quickly, tapping the bed’s comforter in front of Roman. “What colors can you see here?”

Roman sniffed petulantly at the distraction, but he did drop his teary eyes to the thick fabric.

“Brown,” he mumbled. “Black. White. Green.”

Virgil quirked his head. “Where’s the green?”

Roman reached out and carefully papped his hand onto a specific part of the comforter’s design.

“Flowers,” he whispered. Virgil leaned forward and hummed happily.

“Oh wow, you’re right! Good job, Roman,” he congratulated the toddler, kissing the back of his head.

Janus smiled lovingly, cooing, “Look at how clever you are, finding all the colors on the comforter.”

Roman sniffed again. “It’s ugly.”

Janus paused, raising one eyebrow as Virgil snickered into Roman’s hair.

“I think so, too,” he stage whispered. “I think your daddies need to get new bedsheets, right?”

“First a new mattress, then new bedsheets,” Janus muttered. “You just like to complain.”

“Nuh uh!” Virgil insisted, squeezing Roman again. “Roman agrees with me, right, buddy?”

“Yeah,” Roman responded quietly, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah!” Virgil repeated in a silly voice. “Your daddies’ bed is ugly, isn’t it?”

Roman nodded, more enthusiastic. “Yeah!”

“And they need to get a new bed, don’t they?”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah!”

“Okay,” Janus interrupted with an amused eyeroll, reaching over to poke Roman’s tummy. “Don’t be snarky, mister.”

Roman smiled up at him, but his smile faded as he saw the tiny cup of medicine in his Papa’s other hand. He tensed in Virgil’s lap.

“This’ll make you feel so much better, Romie, I promise,” Virgil assured quietly as he took the cup from Janus. “We can do it on the count of three.”

After Roman’s nod, he raised the cup to the toddler’s mouth. “One, two… three!”

He pressed it to Roman’s lips, tilting his head back for the three seconds it took to swallow it all.

As soon as he pulled the cup away, Roman gagged loudly and shook his head. “Uh uh, uh uh, uh uh.”

“I know, baby, I know," Virgil immediately jumped in. He wrapped his arms around Roman and rocked him side to side. "You did such a good job. We’re so proud of you.”

He continued to murmur words of encouragement to the toddler while Janus recapped the medicine bottle. He looked up, and the two grownups shared a soft smile over Roman's head.

“Got room for a couple more?”

All three of them turned toward Patton’s voice in the doorway. As expected, he wasn't alone: not only was he holding Remus in his arms, but Logan was there too, standing behind him and a bit to the side.

“Hey, guys," Virgil said, shooting them a pitying smile. "How are you?”

“Logan was throwing up in their bathroom,” Patton informed them without preamble. Logan nodded, looking appropriately miserable as he leaned against the wall.

Patton moved to perch on the end of the bed as he continued, “And Remus was asleep, but then he woke up when I opened his door and his hair was all sweaty and I took his temperature and—”

“And long story short, we got three sick kiddos tonight," Janus finished, putting his hand on Remus' forehead and twisting his mouth in displeasure. He looked to Virgil, who returned his look with a resigned smile.

“Medicine round two?”

It took a couple minutes of rearranging— Remus wanted to switch to sitting in Janus’ lap, and Logan moved to sit next to Virgil, since was very clearly swaying where he stood— but finally Patton was able to pass the medicine cup to Logan. Before he could take a sip, however, Roman reached up to yank at Logan’s shirt sleeve.

“Logi, it’s gross,” he said desperately. “It’s gross, Bibi has to help you drink it.”

Logan scowled, pulling his arm away from his brother’s grasp. “No, he doesn’t.”

"Hey," Janus said lowly in warning, but Virgil was quicker, wrapping his arms tighter around Roman and rocking him slightly.

“Don’t worry, Roman," he assured the child gently. "Logan’s a big kid. He can do it by himself, watch.”

He turned his gaze onto Logan, and Roman did the same, watching with fearful eyes. Logan paused before nodding firmly, throwing his head back and downing the medicine as if the 10-year-old was taking a shot.

“See, Roman?" he said haughtily once he swallowed. "It is not that bad.”

He reached his arm out to pass the medicine cap over to Patton, but before he could pull back Roman grabbed his hand in his own pudgy grip.

“Are you okay?” he pleaded. Logan paused again, and after a moment Virgil saw his expression soften.

“Yeah, Roman," he said softly. "I’m okay.”

That appeasement seemed to temporarily satisfy Roman, but he still craned his body in Virgil’s hold, looking for his twin. 

“Remus…” he whined. Virgil shifted then around so they were facing the others, but Remus was already handing the medicine cap back to Patton.

“I am okay, thank you," he informed Roman immediately. Virgil felt Roman relax back into his arms, and Remus did the same, slumping backwards against Janus’ chest.

Patton clicked his tongue.

“Poor baby,” he cooed, leaning forward to brush Remus’ hair back. “You were just trying to sleep.”

Remus nodded, bunching up the hem of Janus’ shirt in his hands. “I’m sleepy.”

“I know, darling,” Janus said softly. “We’re all done now, and we’re gonna get everyone back to bed—”

Remus looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“Can I please sleep with you?”

All three grown ups paused. That… was such a loaded question from any child. Yes, their love for their children was endless and forever and knew no bounds, of course— except that the presence of a sickly toddler in their bed might make it hard for them to, you know. Sleep.

“Um—” Janus started, but already Roman was twisting around to look between his parents. 

“I wanna— I wanna sleep with you, too!” he said, new tears already forming in his eyes. Remus wasn’t crying like his brother, but he was looking particularly lovable with his well-practiced begging face. Logan stayed silent, but he did slump farther back into the pillows, already struggling to keep his eyes open much longer.

Virgil looked at Janus, and Janus looked at Patton, and Patton made a snap decision.

“Yep,” he decided. “We can all sleep together, so everybody’s gonna have to scooch over.”

The next few minutes were a flurry of activity for the grownups, while the kids stayed in bed in various states of consciousness. 

Janus grabbed the kids’ favorite comfort items from their bedrooms— Remus’ baby blanket that was covered in planets and stars, Roman’s favorite stuffed animal (a teal dinosaur named Roary), and Logan’s weighted blanket with the Periodic Tables of Elements displayed on one side.

Patton raided the bathrooms for trash cans, which were placed on either side of the bed (and gosh, please let them get through the rest of the night without anybody else throwing up).

And Virgil returned with extra throw blankets, because he knew that every single member of this family was a big ol’ blanket hog and he wasn’t gonna stand for it.

“Okay, everybody’s gonna have to squeeze, squeeze, squeeze!” Patton instructed as the grownups clambered back onto the bed as gently as possible.

“Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze,” Remus echoed softly, squishy his blankie in his hands. 

It took a minute, but finally they were in some sort of order that everyone agreed with. The grown ups returned to their original positions of Patton on the outside, Janus in the middle, and Virgil on the other side; however, the twins were now snuggled tightly in the empty spaces between them, and Logan was now taking up the last sliver of mattress space on Virgil’s other side.

“Good job, gang,” Janus said, voice tired but warm. He craned his neck as much as he could. “Lo, you good?”

“Mhmm,” Logan sighed. He was laying on his side, facing away from the rest of the cuddle pile, but he still kept his back pushed against Virgil, feeling for his presence even as he drifted off to sleep.

Virgil met Janus’ eyes and nodded. He nodded back, murmuring, “Good night, everybody. I love you.”

“I love you!” Patton echoed, reaching over to ruffle both Roman’s and Remus’ hair. 

“Love you,” Virgil finished.

Remus and Logan stayed silent, somehow already fast asleep. Roman fidgeted for a few more seconds between Patton and Janus before he finally came to rest.

“Good night, Papa, good night, Daddy, good night, Bibi,” he stage-whispered. And then it was quiet.

Well. As quiet as a bedroom with three sleeping children and three exhausted adults could be. There was no way in hell any of them were getting any more sleep tonight, but that didn’t mean they weren’t gonna try.

Virgil turned his head just a bit to rest more comfortably on his pillow, only to find Janus already staring back at him. Janus raised his eyebrows.

“Good?” he whispered.

Virgil shrugged as much as he could. “You need a bigger bed.”

Janus snorted abruptly, making all three children stir. After a few tense beats, Patton raised his head to look at his partners with confusion.

His gaze was met with Janus rolling his eyes. “Bibi thinks he’s funny.”

“Bibi is very funny, thank you,” Virgil interjected. Patton shook his head, smiling in exasperation.

“Tell me in the morning.”

~

Virgil didn’t know when exactly he’d fallen asleep, so waking up was a bit of a surprise for him.

More surprising was the fact that the bed was significantly emptier than he remembered it. It was colder, too— probably because he wasn’t being cuddled by two feverish children anymore, as well as the fact that somehow, against all laws of physics, he wasn’t being covered by a single blanket. 

Blinking blearily, he turned his head, ignoring his cramping neck (when did he get so old) until he saw Janus. His partner was reclining comfortably on the other side of the mattress, rapidly typing on his phone. Virgil watched his profile for several blissful seconds.

Movement on his other side pulled him from his trance, and Virgil turned to see Patton standing in the doorway.

“Morning,” he said with a tender smile. Virgil sat up a bit further as Patton moved to sit on the end of the bed.

“Time is it?”

“Late,” Janus replied from his other side, now looking up from his phone to give Virgil a small smile. “Boys are on the couch watching sick day movies.”

Patton nodded. “We did some PT earlier, but lazybones over here wanted to get back into bed.”

Janus shrugged, unbothered by the correct accusation. “What’s the point of taking a day off work if you don’t lay in bed all day?”

“Maybe preparing to take care of our ailing children for the next who-knows-how-long?” Patton retorted dryly, resignation and concern tingeing his voice. “I really hope this blows over in a day or two.”

“Same,” Janus replied, eyes already back on his phone. “You know I love any excuse to call out, but I’d rather not lose my job over a sick day.”

“I can take some time off!” Virgil said immediately. “If you need to go back to work, either of you, or if you just need some help, I’d have no problem calling out for a couple days, I’ve got lots of sick days stacked up, or— what?”

“Do you like this?”

Virgil blinked, thrown off his rhythm. He tried to focus on the tiny screen Janus had thrust in front of him, but without his glasses or contacts it was nearly impossible.

“Um. Yes?”

Apparently that was the right answer, because Janus hummed in satisfaction. “Good, ‘cause if you’re gonna be using it then I was thinking we’d all go in on it together.”

“Sure,” Virgil said. “Wait. No. I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

Janus held the screen toward him again.

“It’s a new bed frame,” he said simply. “For our new bed.”

“Janus,” Patton interjected in a weirdly scolding tone. 

“What?” Janus replied. Patton sighed, but looked at Virgil with an exasperated smile.

“Well, that certainly wasn’t how we were planning on popping that question…” he said. Virgil looked between the two of them.

“I don’t. What. You want me to help you buy a bed?”

Suddenly Janus grabbed his hand, shocking Virgil enough to look at him, but he was already staring directly into Virgil’s eyes.

“I wanted to know if you wanted to help buy our new bed,” he said in a voice that… seemed significant. 

“Um,” Virgil responded eloquently. “Yeah. Yeah, of course, no, yeah, I can— yeah, definitely, of course I’ll help out, how much was that one? If that’s the one you want, then yeah, of course, I’ll send you some money—”

“Virgil, do you actually get what he’s asking?” Patton interjected. Virgil paused. He’d thought he did, until he saw Janus’ smile, playful and warm.

“I… don’t think so,” he admitted. Janus quirked an eyebrow.

“Wanna move in?”

A beat of silence. Virgil opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“Oh.”

He nodded once, belatedly, and realized he was still holding Janus’ hand. The realization sent a wave of heat to his cheeks for some reason, but he didn’t let go.

“And,” Patton added, moving forward on the bed and taking Virgil’s other hand, “despite what our partner’s phrasing might imply, you don’t have to say yes. You certainly don’t have to help pay for the bed,” he finished with a faux-stern look at Janus. 

Janus shrugged. “Or if you don’t like this one, we can look for other options together—” 

“Yes,” Virgil breathed, interrupting Janus. He looked to Patton, then Janus, then back and forth as fast as he could. “Yes.”

Janus paused.

 “...Yes, you want to look for other options?”

Patton gave a huff of laughter.

“Oh, you’re both so cute when you’re sleepy,” he muttered before reaching over to pat Janus’ leg. “Virgil said yes to moving in, honeybee.”

Janus looked between his husband and their partner. Virgil nodded.

“Oh,” Janus said. “Great. Fantastic. Swell. I just said swell, I’m really tired, okay?”

The rest of Janus’ rambling was interrupted by Virgil yanking on his arm— maybe a bit too harshly, but fuck, how was he supposed to control himself now?— and wrapping him into a fierce hug. It only took half a second for Janus to reciprocate, squeezing Virgil tightly before the other man launched himself at Patton. Patton caught Virgil with open arms, and as he rocked them both from side to side, he pressed small, fervent kissies to his temple. Then Janus and Patton squeezed hands and shared a quick kiss, before Virgil was thrown into the middle of a three person hug.

Around and around it went for several minutes before they could detach themselves, snickering and beaming all the while.

“Got coffee downstairs,” Patton informed Virgil, giving his hand one more good squeeze before getting up.

“You coming?” Janus asked, joining Patton in the doorway.

“In a minute,” Virgil replied. “I’ll make the bed.”

They smiled at him— bright and warm and wonderful— before leaving their bedroom to join their children downstairs. Virgil looked around him, at the twisted bed sheets, the crumpled comforter, and the extra blankets left behind by their children.

“Swell,” he murmured. He didn’t care that he’d just woken up. He felt like he could lie down right now and sleep in their bed— their bed— for the rest of his life.

~

Taglist: @plinamiismyotp, @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond, @emo–nightmaree, @a-non-binary-pan, @rainecreatesstuff, @bittydragon (if you’d like to be added/removed to the taglist, let me know!)

[hotchley]

mortch having a girl, specifically hotch coming home after a bad case to see derek-with glasses ofc- holding their babygirl while reading hotch’s high school play script

Grace I am in love with your brain and I need you to write this properly, but for now, enjoy this little drabble... thing whatever, we’re going with it (and I hope you liked the other mortch headcanons!!) 

the best thing they ever did

I don’t know what else to call it and all of the songs I’ve been listening to are sad and look... either of them with a daughter is just the best thing and yeah so please be gentle

Also where in canon is this? Fuck if I know, Tara and Luke are on the team but Derek left and Jack is a teen and Hotch is retiring in a few months and like Mr Scratch the episode did happen but not the shit after?? but that’s not that important just go with it 

read on ao3! (I cannot believe I am doing this)

tw: vague crimes against children, the slightest implication of child abuse

Cases with children were always hard. But cases with children, when he had two at home and Derek wasn’t there to ground him or make everything better by simply holding his hand and drawing circles were awful.

So awful that he just wanted to bury his head in the lumpy pillow at the hotel and scream. He missed feeling Derek’s arms around him as he slept, and he missed falling asleep on his shoulder, and he missed the scent of his shower gel.

He just missed Derek. And Jack. And their little girl. He couldn’t believe he had a daughter. He had always wanted to give Jack a little sibling, but his own failures had meant that never happened.

Until it did. Just in a completely different way to what he was expecting. He lost Haley to George Foyet, yes, but he gained a new family that he thought he would never find. And he knew Haley, wherever she was, was at peace, watching over him and the loves of his life with pride and happiness.

In the end, they saved the children. Their lives would never be the same and this would stay with them forever, but they would, with the right support, recover and flourish.

He used to tell the team that saving a victim was the best thing they could do because he needed them to carry on having faith in what they did and not start doubting whether or not they made a difference because they did.

But he too had wondered whether or not it was worth it. When he thought of everything Foyet had put him through, had his life really been worth saving?

And then he saw Jack. Jack who would always miss his mother and the person she had been to him, the woman he remembered, but Jack that looked at Derek and called him Papa without feeling guilty. Jack that sometimes got angry and threw tantrums but was every bit the boy Haley had raised.

And he knew that it was all worth it. As he thought of Derek- good and kind and beautiful Derek that had stuck with him through everything and held him after Mr Scratch had forced him to see his family die- he smiled. 

Derek Morgan was the best man he knew. And every single day, every single moment, he considered himself lucky to call him his husband. He knew how difficult it was for Derek to wave goodbye each morning, knowing first-hand the horrors of the job. But Aaron only had to do a few more months before the Bureau would give him his pension.

And when that day came, he was going to retire and join Derek at the local community college, where they would teach the next generation of lawyers. Together. Like they were meant to. Because even before they had fallen in love- unwillingly and resentfully realised that actually, they did care about each other a lot- they had been partners.

But before then, he would carry on with the BAU, writing reports until his eyes started to hurt and he has to fight back tears every time he looks at the photos. This time though, his desk was suspiciously void of paperwork that wasn’t absolutely essential to the case.

When he looked into the bullpen, Emily and Luke’s piles seemed significantly bigger. Tara and Spencer also had larger piles, but those were decreasing at an incredibly fast rate. 

He smiled to himself and pulled his phone out to text Derek that he would be home sooner than expected. But as he gazed at his lock screen- subconsciously counting down the days till he could change it to the family photo- he decided he would surprise them instead.

With the knowledge that he would soon be home and in the arms of his loved one, the paperwork was slightly more bearable. It was still brutal and heartbreaking and he kept needing to pause to stop himself from sobbing, but there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

Derek’s presence had always been more than a light, but still.

He finished before anyone else of the team, but he didn’t feel guilty leaving. They didn’t need him to hold their hands anymore. They hadn’t for a while, but Derek’s departure after the birth of their daughter- their beautiful daughter- had driven the point home.

It was why he was going to be able to leave without any regrets.

It was dark when he unlocked the front door to their home. Home. He thought he had lost that after Haley left. He never thought he would find it in Derek, but he would never stop feeling grateful that he got a second chance at a family. A second chance at being happy.

All the lights downstairs were off, so he assumed they had all gone to sleep. He checked Jack’s room and saw that he was peacefully asleep. Maybe it was the case, or the nostalgia that came with leaving, or maybe he was just a better man than his father was, but the sight of him sleeping without stirring or being haunted by nightmares bought on a wave of emotion so overwhelming he had to hold the door handle.

With every passing day, Jack looked more and more like his mother. Once upon a time, it would’ve been like a dagger to Aaron’s heart, but now it just made him smile with a fondness he hadn’t realised he was capable of.

Even though Jack wasn’t a child anymore- he was almost as tall as Hotch- he still found himself quietly entering to press a soft kiss to his forehead. He closed the door properly as he left, knowing his son would appreciate the thought in the morning.

The door to the nursery was also closed. Either she was sleeping, or Derek was still awake with her. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was the second. Derek loved their daughter the way he did everything in his life: with passion, the utmost care and his entire soul.

He hesitated in the doorway of their bedroom, wanting to enjoy the sight for just a moment.

Derek, in nothing but a thin t-shirt and pair of shorts, clearly ready for bed, and glasses that he somewhat resented wearing because it reminded him that he was getting older, holding their daughter in his arms. He held her like she was the world.

And in some ways, she was.

Aaron smiled at the two of them. And then he heard what Derek was saying.

The book in front of him was not the storybook Haley had bought Jack when he was a baby. Nor was it one of the many gifts they’d received from the team.

It was the script for the Pirates of Penzance. The same one Hotch had scribbled his notes all over, so he would know exactly where he was meant to stand and when he was meant to enter and leave. He wanted to be offended, but he couldn’t help but smile.

Theatre had been the start of his and Haley’s love story. He loved that Derek was so willing to celebrate it.

“I hope you’re doing the voices right,” he quipped, as Derek started to recite the first of Pirate Number Four’s two lines.

Derek turned and Aaron was still so taken aback by how stunning he was that whatever he was going to say died on his lips. He smiled slightly, trying to not give away how much the case had affected him.

“I thought you could use something good today. Em told me what happened. Do you want to talk about it?”

Not today. Tomorrow he would, but tonight he was going to love his daughter and fall asleep in Derek’s arms. So he shook his head and went over to the two of them.

His daughter babbled and smiled at him, wrapping her little hand around his finger.

“Hello darling,” he cooed. “Did Papa make you stay up for me? Or did you do that yourself?”

Derek laughed, a joyous and warming sound. “She did that herself. In fact, she almost woke Jack up with her screaming. I think she knew her daddy would be home today. Didn’t you?”

Aaron smiled as she carried on smiling at the two of them. “Thank you for staying up. I know I’m back earlier than usual, but it’s still late.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Derek said, still rocking the baby in his arms. She was a beautiful baby. And one day, she would be an amazing, strong and vulnerable woman. But for now, she was his little girl.

“I know. But I want to,” Aaron said in response. “Did she really almost wake up Jack?”

“Yep. She wanted to be held, and then I thought I would read to her, and I remember getting this out for Jack earlier. It just felt right. Haley had so many lines, how she remembered all of them is beyond me.”

“She was ethereal on that stage,” he said. But thinking of Haley didn’t hurt now. It hadn’t for a while. JJ had been right. He was happy.

“I’m going to change out of this suit,” he said, after a few moments of silence passed. Derek nodded, not even moving to put her back in her crib. When Aaron returned wearing Derek’s old pyjamas, he was still rocking her gently.

“You’ve never looked quite so beautiful as you do when you hold her,” he confessed quietly.

Derek smiled, passing her over. “And you never look as relaxed as you do when she’s in your arms.”

He laughed, then responded with: “Gas.”

Derek rolled his eyes in that fond way he always did, but he laughed along nonetheless. And when Aaron’s eyes started to droop, he took the now sleeping baby from his arms and went to the nursey.

As he set her down, he brushed his lips across her forehead, wishing her a peaceful sleep. 

“Goodnight, Penelope Haley Hotchner-Morgan. Have the sweetest dreams,” he said, leaving the door slightly open so some of the light could get in.

Aaron had fallen asleep in the few minutes he had been gone for, on top of the duvet and with his feet dangling off the end of the bed. Derek smiled at his sleeping figure from the door, wondering how anyone could look so sweet as they slept.

Derek moved him to be under the covers, having done it enough times to know how to do it without waking him up. When Aaron’s breathing remained even, he breathed a sigh of relief and climbed in on the other side.

As if he just knew, Aaron rolled over, burying his head in Derek’s neck as he wrapped his arms around his husband, feeling like home was perfect once more.

[yandere-daydreams]

For a request, maybe Bakugo and Izuku arguing about punishing their Darling? Maybe the Darling pleading with Bakugo to not let Izuku hurt them.

I’ve been writing a lot of polyamorous relationships, lately… I’m not complaining, though. The more *loving* boys I can fit into one drabble, the better.

TW: Implied Physical Abuse and Mentions of Bondage

~

“You can’t be fucking serious.”

Katsuki was unwavering, even as he stood before a much stronger rival. You used to admire that about him (you still did, really), how powerful he presented himself as, even when he was at a disadvantage. Izuku could kill him, and judging by the green electricity sparking around his arms and the pure anger in his eyes, it was fair to say Izuku would. But, Katsuki just stared down at his partner, shoving you behind him whenever Izuku’s focus shifted. As a civilian, you looked up to him, as a friend, you respected him…

Even as a captive, you couldn’t help but be thankful for his presence.

“I know how protective you can be, but try to look at this rationally,” Izuku started, taking a step forward. Katsuki didn’t move, but you reflexively latched onto his bicep, digging your nails into his skin for some sense of security. You didn’t doubt that it hurt, but Katsuki never flinched, only raising an eyebrow as Izuku bared his teeth. “If we let this kind of misbehavior go, then (Y/n)’ll think they can just do whatever they want!”

Katsuki chuckled, smirking. “You’re acting like we have a dog, Deku. What’d the big ol’ rebel even do, say ‘no’ when you wanted to get your dick wet for the fourth time today?”

Izuku’s hands curled into fists, his knuckles turning white from the strain. “I caught them trying to pick the lock on their window.” There was a vague nod towards the bedroom, where the door was still ajar, Izuku having left it open as he chased you. You clung a little tighter to Katsuki, your guilt undeniable. It’d been more out of curiosity than anything, a hobby to pass the days of waiting and nothingness. You didn’t think Izuku would be home so early, you didn’t think Katsuki would care. Really, your fate was sealed as soon as Izuku saw you kneeling in front of the windowsill, a hairpin in one hand and the death-bolt in the other. Pushing past him and calling out for your real hero had only worked to take Izuku from mad to infuriated. “We can’t encourage it. You see that, don’t you?” Izuku asked, voice muffled by grit teeth. “We should break something just the attempt.”

Silently, Katsuki’s gaze turned towards you. It was almost unnoticeable, his eyes flickering to his side and his expression hardly changing, but you recognized the signal without the need for further explanation. Reluctantly, you stepped forward, one of his hands falling to your shoulder, keeping you in place as you bowed your head. Of course, Izuku made a grab for you, but Katsuki waved him off without a word.

“Is this true?” His voice was patronizing, condescending, like you were a child being scolded by an instructor. He might as well’ve stooped down to your height, from how slowly he spoke. Still, you nodded, biting your lip. Playing into the role, despite your best efforts not to. Katsuki only clicked his tongue, his attention quickly moving back towards Izuku. “I think–”

“It isn’t my fault!” The outburst was sudden, unexpected even to you. It’d come out louder than you meant for it too, but it was hard not to sound desperate, especially when you already knew how over-excited Izuku could get when he had a riding-crop in his hands. Katsuki glared, moving to pull away, but you caught his hand before he could, clinging to him like your life depended on it. It might’ve, depending on how violent Izuku planned on being. “I… You were gone for so long, I didn’t know what to do. I was stuck in my room, and I didn’t know when you’d be coming back!”

“Baby, I know it’s scary,” He began, his tone anything but sympathetic. Your heart dropped into your stomach as soon as the words left his mouth, some unseeable pressure suddenly pressing down on your chest. It was a hopelessness, a dread, one that made you choke up as Katsuki pulled away and want to run when he looked at you. You didn’t, paralyzed by some mix of fear and frustration and terror, but god, it was tempting. Moreso as Katsuki smiled, fingers come up to card through your hair. “Don’t worry so much, I’ll be right there. Everything’ll be fine as long as you’ve got your Hero by your side, right?”

“No, no, you’re both fucking monsters!” You didn’t think. You couldn’t breathe, hyperventilating as you tried to force him away from you. Katsuki didn’t budge, his hand clamping down in your hair and jerking you forward, not stopping until you were bent over and whimpering in front of him. Izuku cooed something disgusting, but he didn’t move to stop Katsuki. Instead, you were met with the smug-satisfaction Izuku always seemed to project when Katsuki lost his temper.

“What did I tell you? We’ve got a brat to deal with.” Katsuki didn’t let go, but his grip slackened enough for Izuku to lift you, pulling your form against his chest despite how much you kicked and punched and clawed at him. If he noticed, he didn’t let on, only cradling you as Katsuki’s hand dropped to your neck, wrapping loosely around your throat. He didn’t hurt you, but he was ready to, clearly. “What about a few days tied to the bedpost? No food or water until someone’s in a more affectionate mood.” He paused, for a moment, thinking. “The collar will have to go back on, too.”

“Fuck that. Gag the bitch. Get ‘em ready for everything that comes with it, too.” Katsuki wasn’t trying to be gentle, anymore, squeezing a little too hard for the gesture to be playful. You didn’t know whether or not to be relieved when he started speaking to you. “You should know better than to talk-back, by now. Breaking the rules and acting up… you’re energetic today, aren’t you?”

Staying quiet was the only thing you could think to do, trying to hide your face in Izuku’s shoulder. But, Katsuki just pulled back, forcing you to meet his eyes. That might’ve been what finally did it, what made you finally realize how screwed you were. The rage in his gaze, that unrelenting, unfaltering commitment to your suffering.

Katsuki was just as dedicated to your discipline as he was to your protection, after all.

“It’s only fair that we put in the same amount of effort, ain’t it?”

[b3k1720]

Kidnapped

Massive trigger warning! : swearing, kidnapping, violence, corporal punishment, abuse and child labour. Not going far in to detail but I don’t know what’s triggering for some and not for others.

................

Ever Since Jacob had arrived in London and met Clara he has always been trying to eradicate child labour.

But no matter his efforts children always seem to wind back up in the factories....

Whether by choice, desperation of need or by force...

It was a seemingly normal day for the Frye family, Wednesday morning Rebekah sent Amelia and Emmette off to school with a hug and a kiss.

“When you get home for lunch there will be chocolate cake waiting so don’t take long, it goes cold quick” she announced.

“Okay mum!” Emmette answered with a large smile, extremely excited at the thought of gorging on cake then going back to school to brag about it to his friends.

“Come on we gotta go or we’ll be late Emmy” Amelia urged as she grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door.

The siblings walked down the Main Street of the strand, or more in their case jogged.

DING DING!, sounded the bell of Big Ben.

“Oh no we’re going to be late!”

“Don’t worry I know a short cut” Emmette offered as he pointed to the alley near them,

“That’ll take us to class in less than five minutes my friend Danny told me about it!”

Amelia looked to the alley...she didn’t know if it was a good idea...

“But mum and dad said not to go through alleys..” she answered in a worried tone.

“Hey do you want to get the cane because I don’t” Emmette huffed.

“No...ok but we gotta be quick!” Amelia quickly yelled to her brother before she started to run in to the alleyway.

Emmette followed close behind, not stopping at all!

Halfway though their path was blocked...by men in red.

“Hello kiddies...where are you both off to?” on of them called out with a grin.

Both the children took a step back, their father warned them about the blighters....although years ago he took control of London from them there was always those who stayed loyal...

“We are going to school...please we are already late” Amelia tried to beg, she didn’t want any trouble to start...they had some defence training but it would be useless against five large men with weapons.

“Oh I don’t think you lot need school, it’s pretty useless when you think about it” another man commented with a chuckle.

“Besides I think you’d both do well at the brick making plant...don’t you think boys?” Another added which caused the others to agree.

By this point even Emmette was getting scared,

“W-We don’t want to work in the factory...o-our mother wouldn’t like it” the poor boy stammered.

“We weren’t asking brat!” The man who spoke before growled as he grabbed Amelia and another grabbed Emmette.

Both the children let out screams,

“Let us go, please, please!” Emmette cried as the men got out some rope and tied them up.

“When our daddy finds out he’ll make you pay!” Amelia screamed, trying to put on a brave face for her little brother, which in the end was useless as she began to cry as well.

The Blighters laughed and shoved rags in their mouths to shut them up, they couldn’t have attention drawn to them of course.

Soon the children were thrown in to a carriage and taken across the city...

A few hours later Rebekah patiently waiting for her children to arrive home for lunch,

But as the hour passed she began to worry...

“What’s taking them so long..” she muttered to herself as the heat dissipated from the cake.

Soon it was one’ o’clock, lunchtime passed...the children had never missed lunch before.

Rebekah had a sick feeling fall on her...she had to be sure nothing had happened...

So quickly she threw on her coat, locked up the house and made her way down to the school.

‘Maybe they didn’t finish there work and had to stay in’ she thought in hope.

‘Maybe they met Jacob and he took them to get lunch instead’ Rebekah hoped and prayed she was right, before heading up the steps to the school house.

Carefully she knocked on the door and all noise inside ceased before it was opened by a tall man wearing a black suit and small glasses.

“Mrs Frye I wasn’t expecting you...why the visit?” Mr baileys asked.

“I’ve just come to see Amelia and Emmette, just for a moment and I will be on my way” Rebekah answered with a nervous smile.

“I’m sorry Mrs Frye...I was under the impression the children were sick...they didn’t arrive for morning classes” he answered with some confusion in his tone.

“W-What?”

Rebekah felt weak, she felt absolutely sick and a rush of pure terror filled her.

Where were her babies!?

“Oh god” she cried before quickly dismissing herself and running back home, tears in her eyes and her throat almost closing up.

“Mrs Frye you alright?” A rook asked as they happened to be close by, seeing her upset and stopping her.

“N-No no I’m n-not p-please please y-you have to find j-Jacob!” Rebekah cried as they sat her down on some steps.

“Y-you have to find my h-husband Amelia a-and Emmette a-are missing!” She sobbed as it felt harder to breathe.

Oh where were they!

“It’s ok mrs we’ll find him!” The rook announced before whistling to attract the attention of his comrades.

“Go find the boss, it’s urgent!”

They nodded and quickly sped away!

It wasn’t long till they found him near the Thames beating up a man who had been intentionally selling tainted food.

“Boss you gotta come quick, it’s your Mrs!” One of the rooks yelled to their leader.

“What!?” Jacob answered before dropping the man and sprinting over to the carriage,

“Take me to her quick” he ordered.

Again it wasn’t long until they made their way back to where Rebekah was sitting, sobbing and trying to calm herself.

Seeing his wife utterly distraught Jacob launched himself from the carriage and pulled her in to his arms.

“What happened, are you alright what’s wrong?!” He asked in a urgent and rushed manner.

Jacob made Rebekah look at him, he was worried sick he’d never seen her this distraught.

“A-Amelia and E-Emmette didn’t come h-home for l-lunch!” She cried.

“I-I went to the s-school to s-see if t-they were ok b-but their t-teacher said t-they didn’t c-come to cl-class this morning!”

Jacob felt himself now go pale.... this wasn’t good.

Blighters were still around, but there was a large number of people in London who would hurt children as well.

“It’s going to be ok d-darling w-we’ll find them” he answered shakily as he tried to console her.

“Let’s get you home...I’ll go find them” Jacob added as he helped her up and began to walk her home.

He to was scared for his children, he didn’t have any clues yet but he hid his worry.

Once home he sat her in the lounge room to relax the best she could before hurrying off to find them.

Meanwhile in Whitechapel Amelia and Emmette weren’t fairing well, once they were taken from the alley they were put straight to work.

The air in the factory was hot from the kilns, the dust hurt their eyes and got in their lungs causing them to feel sick and cough.

They were both given shovels and made to scoop coal in to the roaring fire.

“Hurry up or there won’t be any dinner for any of you brats!” The foremen yelled before heading back in to his office.

“I’m scared Meli” Emmette whimpered as he started to cry again,

The other children kept busy at their work, telling him to be quiet would only get them in trouble.

“I-I know Emmy b-but we gotta be brave” Amelia answered quickly before a blighter came up to the boy and smacked him upside the head.

“Shut up and work or I’ll have you both drowned in the cistern!” they threatened, pointing to a large metal barrel filled with water before hitting Amelia to and walking off.

Considering the era...this punishment was light.

Amelia rubbed her head, let out a sob as did Emmette and kept working the best they could.

It took Jacob well in to the night to find any clues of his children’s where-bouts, he searched all of London with his rooks offering a cash reward for anyone who could find them and report to him!

Around five in the morning it came as he was searching by a pub in Southwark, he heard a man drunkenly talking to another.

“I got five bob each for two kids I snatched yesterday at the strand” he laughed before taking a swig of his pint.

Jacob stood around the corner close by to listen.

“I sold ‘em to a buddy of mine in Whitechapel, chained them to a furnace he has” the man laughed as did the other.

“Cried like whimps begging for their mummy, the girl threatened to have her father on to me!” He bellowed.

‘You bloody bastard..’ Jacob growled to himself, not being able to stand it anymore!

Quick as a flash he had the man out of his chair pinned to the floor with a gun to his head.

“Where is the factory!” He roared.

“Who the fuck are you!?”

“I’m that girls father, you better tell me where my children are or that poor barkeep will be scrubbing your brains from the wood!” Jacob yelled as he jammed the gun in to the perpetrator.

The man started to splutter and whimper, the assassin almost swore he smelt urine!

“T-The brick factory I-in Whitechapel, p-please please let me go!”

The master assassin nodded and let him go but not before shooting him in the hand,

“Snatch anymore children again and I’ll fucking take your hands” he growled before running off, the mans screams behind him.

Jacob took a carriage and sped to Whitechapel...hoping they’d both be ok...

Later that morning Amelia and Emmette were woken to the machines roaring to life, they had been chained to the kilns all night by their waists and ankles.

Both children were exhausted!

“Get up you lazy good for nothing’s before you get a beating!” The foreman shouted pulling both of them up and shoving their tools in their hands.

And they tried to work they really did but poor Emmette was falling behind, stopping to rub his eyes and cough.

In the time they had been there their clothes and bodies were covered in soot and grime, turning their freckled skin black from the layers of coal dust.

Noticing this a large blighter picked him up and unchained him roughly,

“Tired eh? Well a dip should wake you!” He laughed before dragging Emmette away.

“Stop! Please don’t hurt him!” Amelia cried trying to hit the man with the heavy shovel, failing and being swatted away with a large slap.

The blighter took him over and held him head first over the cistern before dunking him under the water.

Left him there for longer than needed then let him up, laughing at the child’s spluttering and gasping before putting him back in.

‘THWAK!’ The blighter gasped before slumping to the floor and letting Emmette fall to the ground.

The children in the factory screamed out of fright as a large swarm of rooks ran in and started to kill the overseers.

“Daddy!” Amelia cried as Jacob jumped down from the beam above them and ran to them, there fire in his eyes and a terrible rage in his heart that only went away when he saw his children...

“Amelia sweetheart” he gasped, she was sooty and barely recognisable!

Quickly the assassin hugged her and smashed the chains off her body.

Then he went to his son, his precious boy and helped him up.

Emmette’s face wasn’t as dirty anymore from the dunking but the poor kid was trembling from the experience.

“D-Daddy..”

“Shh Shh it’s alright, let’s go home it’ll be ok” Jacob tried to comfort him as he held him in his arms before heading out to the carriage with his children.

A rook was kind enough to drive as Jacob sat in the back with them, cleaning off their faces and comforting them.

Rebekah hadn’t slept the whole night, crying and trying not to be sick with worry.

She waiting in the living room, pacing and waiting for Jacob to come home. Thinking of every horrible possibility to arise.

She prayed and hoped they would be ok!

The door suddenly opened and in ran Amelia!

“Mummy!” She cried and hugged her, Jacob came in holding Emmette who was still trembling.

Rebekah couldn’t do anything but cry and hold her daughter tight before getting her son off Jacob and holding him to.

It was a beautiful but traumatic reunion for the whole family....

For a while Emmette refused to bathe or swim as the water scared him to much.

Amelia didn’t ever walk alone, she only felt safe when her father or mother was with her, walking her to school and picking her up for lunch and after school as well.

And unfortunately both children would have night terrors for a very long time....

[monaownsmyass]

It’s Complicated/Uncomplicated - Part 2/2

Requested fic by @ineedskyecrandall (if you have any fic ideas or requests you’d like me to write, you can leave me an ask!)

Book: My Two First Loves, (after) Chapter 38

Pairing: Ava Lawrence x MC (Emma Price)

Genre: Fluff

Rating: G, none

Word count: 4,152 (she’s a long one)

A/N: Continuation of Part 1! Ava and MC go on their first date. QUESTION: do you guys prefer shorter or longer fics? Pls lmk. Also I’m pretty sure I chipped my nail polish while writing this so I hope y’all enjoy 😂

Tag list: @ineedskyecrandall @kamilahsayeet2063 @avalawrencefl @lovekamilahsayeed @thequeenkamilahsayeed @midnitesteph (lmk if anyone would like to be included or removed in my next fics.)

I woke up to a text from Ava.

'Rise and shine, you sleepy sloth! I hope you had a good night, here's something to brighten your morning! Xoxo'

She attached a cute cat gif stretching its paws and yawning as it wakes up from it's sleep.

I shot her back a quick reply. 'Morning, babe! Thanks for the adorable cat gif, I can't wait to see your gorgeous face later today <3'.

I may have just woken up but I just knew that today was gonna be an amazing day.

The hours leading up to my date with Ava was a blur. I was wrecked with excitement and anticipation. Mackenzie noticed me on edge and I explained my dilemma to her. She didn't seem that surprised when I came out to her as bi and told her I had a date with Ava.

She just rolled her eyes and said, 'Finally!'.

Two hours before our date, I begged Mack to help me find the perfect outfit. I paced up and down my room, trying on my entire wardrobe and still not being able to settle on anything.

"Oh my god, Em, calm down!" Mack exclaimed in frustration. "It's just Ava! She's seen you at your absolute trash bottom!"

"I know! But it's different!" I defended. "It's like an actual date this time, y'know?"

"You went out for dates with Noah and Mason recently and you weren't walking up and down your room like an agitated child that just shat their pants and is too afraid to tell their parents." She squinted at me. "You like her a lot more than the both of them, don't you?"

"I- what? Mack, no. I mean, I'm not sure. I haven't figured it out yet."

She sighed and stared at me dead in the eyes. "Look, I know you like both boys but I think even you have noticed that you're more drawn to Ava. Shit, you just told me an hour or so ago that you liked her and I can already tell just by looking at you now." She waited for me to process her words before speaking again. "You aren't gonna destroy Mason's or Noah's life if you chose to be with Ava. They're big boys, they can handle the rejection."

Her words struck a chord in me. I have noticed that ever since Ava kissed me I haven't been able to think about either Mason or Noah. When I kissed both of them, I was constantly worrying about the other but with Ava, it was only her that occupied my mind.

I looked away then back at my sister. "I... I think you're right. But I'm just gonna have this date with her before I come to a conclusion."

She waved her hand at me. "Yeah yeah, you do that, but I bet you fifty that you'll agree with me."

"No way am I agreeing to that bet," I scoffed.

"And why not?"

"...'Cuz I'm pretty sure I'll lose."

~•~•~

After over an hour, I finally decided on a cute outfit and waited for Ava in my living room. I was fidgeting with my fingers while Mack made fun of me, teasing me about how nervous I was but I couldn't even focus because it was true; I was mortified.

Ding Dong!

"Ahh!" I shouted in surprise.

My sister just laughed at me and moved to answer the door. "Chill, your girlfriend's here."

"She's not my girl-" I started but stopped mid-sentence when I saw her walk into our hallway.

She may have not been my girlfriend just yet but god, I wish she were.

"Ava," I whispered, speechless. "H-hey!"

"Hey yourself, babe!" She came up to me and wrapped me in a hug. The pet name caused a rush of heat to my cheeks which I was sure she felt when she kissed it. We've always called each other by pet names, 'baby', 'babe', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'jerk' or 'weirdo' even but this time, it felt different. Different in a good way.

She pulled back slightly as her eyes traveled up and down my figure. Her gaze set my body on fire. "You look amazing!" she complimented. "You're so pretty."

I blushed. "Thanks." I gave her a once over and felt my breath hitch. "You look really hot," I blurted out without thinking and immediately slapped my palm against my mouth.

She burst out laughing, the sound filling me with delight despite my embarrassment. "Thank you, Em." She lifted an arm and it was only then that I noticed that she was holding a bouquet of flowers. "Um, these are for you."

She knew I loved flowers. I accepted it, starting to get a little teary eyed. This was ridiculous! We haven't even stepped out of the house and I was already overwhelmed with emotions. It was a gorgeous bunch of yellow roses with red petal tips. I immediately recognised the meaning behind the colour and the tears started to trickle down my face.

"Ava," I lunged at her, wrapped my arms around her neck and burying my face in the crook of it. "You seriously didn't have to."

"But I wanted to, I wanted to do this right," she laughed and hugged me back.

This moment would've been perfect if it weren't for Mackenzie clearing her throat from the living room couch.

"Okayyyy, I guess this is my cue to leave," she awkwardly excused herself and made her way upstairs. "Bye, lovebirds! Stay safe! Don't do anything stupid and don't forget to practice safe se-!"

"Mack!" I exclaimed, cutting her off but hurling a pillow from the couch at her.

My face was flushed with heat once again from Mack's comment but Ava just let out a good-natured laugh, obviously finding the whole ordeal amusing.

"C'mon, Em. Let's go," she said.

I excused myself to place the bouquet into a vase before walking to her sedan. She opened the door of the passenger seat for me before closing it and entering the driver's side. This girl was too sweet, I swear she'd be the death of me.

She started the engine and started driving away from my house.

"So, where are we going?" I asked.

"And why should I tell you?" she teased.

"Uh, because I'm in your car and I don't know where you're taking me? That's basically kidnapping!"

"It's not if you entered on your own free will!" she giggled and I couldn't help but laugh along with her. Her laugh was contagious and it made my heart flutter.

I didn't have to wait long to find out our destination. It was a small, quaint ice cream parlour. The same ice cream parlour we went to on our first hang out together. We hadn't been back here since and the sight of the shop made me nostalgic.

We entered the shop and it was just as I remembered. It was quite and calm. A much different ambience from the outside world. We walked up to the display freezer and stared at all the different options.

Ava turned to me. "Okay, so here's how we make things interesting, we order a random ice cream we haven't tried before, no trying the flavours beforehand."

I gave her a look. Leave it to Ava to find a way to spice things up. One thing I can say for sure was that my life would definitely be boring without her.

"So, what would you like?"

"Um, I'm not sure." One particular ice cream stood out to me though I wasn't sure it'd be my cup of tea. "I kinda want to try the Maple Bacon Ice Cream but I don't know if I'll like it."

"First of all, that's the whole point of this! We won't know, it's a game of luck. Second of all, you haven't tried Maple Bacon before?" she asked incredulously.

"And you have?"

"Of course! Who hasn't?"

"Ava, that's not a regular ice cream flavour, weirdo."

"It is in my house...," she muttered as she pouted, eyebrows furrowing. I couldn't help but giggle at how cute she was being. "What if we share it? Since you're too chicken to actually get a whole scoop for yourself."

"Hey! That's not true!" I protested but she was right on some regards. I didn't want to waste it if I didn't like it. "But since you insisted, sure, I guess."

"Don't pretend you're not relieved that I offered to share," she smiled teasingly at me.

After much persuasion, I finally let Ava pay for the ice cream and we found an empty booth in the corner. It was far away and secluded enough from the other patrons to give us some privacy.

We sat across from each other with the cup of ice cream in between us. I noticed that they only gave us one spoon. We've shared food and cutlery before but this time, it made me nervous.

"They only gave us one spoon," I pointed out.

"So?" Ava questioned. "We've shared before, here!"

She scooped up some ice cream and brought it up to my lips. I looked at her and cautiously leaned forward to let her feed me. I saw her gulp as I accepted the ice cream.

She shook herself out of her daze and asked, "How is it?"

I licked my lips and gave her a smile. "It's actually really good!"

"See? You should listen to me more often," she bragged.

"Yeah, yeah, now let me feed you instead, it's only fair."

We continued to feed each other, giggling and laughing every time we smudged ice cream against the other's cheek. At first I did it by accident but Ava wasn't having it so she did it back to me on purpose.

We were attacking each other with ice cream, almost screaming at one point and only stopped when we noticed the ice cream server glaring at us.

We quiet down, trying to hold in our giggles and I couldn't help but get distracted by Ava. I saw her mouth moving, saying something but I wasn't listening. Last night was the first time I really got to look at her but right now, in the daylight, I could see every detail of her face that I missed under the dim streetlight. And now that I know my feeling weren't entirely platonic, I could properly appreciate them.

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows, her almond eyes that were a beautiful shade of chestnut brown, accentuated by her eyeliner and mascara and her soft lips that were painted in a darker shade of red today, perfectly complimenting her features. Her gorgeous hair, her high cheekbones, her strong jaw, her freckles. God, her freckles. They scattered all over her cheeks and nose making her look absolutely adorable. All these combined together to make the absolute masterpiece that was Ava.

I've always liked her freckles. I liked how prominent they were in the summer and I knew sometimes she was insecure about how obvious they were but I've always thought that that was ridiculous. If anything I thought it made her look extremely pretty. Not that she isn't without them but there was something about them that caught my attention.

I was broken out of my reverie when I say Ava waving a hand in front of my eyes.

"Hellooo? Earth to Emma?" she said, laughing. "You completely blanked out, what are you thinking about?"

"About you," I replied without a second thought.

I saw her looking a bit flustered and blush a little but she countered back. "Oh? And what about me?"

"I was just thinking about how stunning you look," I admitted.

She bit her lip. "We've known each other for years, you know how I look like, dork."

"Yeah, but I've never gotten a chance to properly look at you and appreciate your face. You're so breath-taking."

I moved to slowly cup her face in my hands and I felt the warmth from her cheeks. I saw her let out a shaky breath and close her eyes for a while before looking back at me. My own heart was doing flips. She smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you flirt," she joked.

We talked as we finished up our ice cream. Well, I ate most of eat but on our way out I bought one for Ava since I felt bad for stealing most of it. We walked out of the shop, passing the cone of ice cream back and forth to share.

"Where to next?" I asked her while licking the ice cream.

"Just keep walking, we'll be there soon," she replied while reaching out to take the ice cream from me.

I shook my head at her refusal to tell me but I complied. We walked down the sidewalk, shoulders brushing ever so slightly every now and then. I felt her hand ghost over mine a couple of times before I looked up at her. I could almost sense the conflict going on in her head. I silently giggled to myself before grabbing her hand, interlocking our fingers together.

Just like she did the night before, she looked at our hands and then into my eyes. I saw a twinkle in them as she gave me a shy smile.

"Thank you," she spoke softly.

I gave her hand a squeeze in response as we continued to walk down the street, hand-in-hand and sharing the ice cream.

I loved the way her hand fit in mine. It felt different from Mason's and Noah's hand. Their's were slightly calloused, maybe from playing football, and much bigger than mine. I liked the way their's made me feel protected and secured.

However, Ava's hand, while just as strong, was smooth and smaller. It felt comforting and familiar, like someone you've known for a long time who'd always be there even on your worse days. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't prefer this over their's.

"I like holding your hand," Ava spoke out. "It's nice."

I let out a small chuckle and nodded. "I was just thinking the same."

We walked a few more steps before Ava announced, "We're here."

She brought me to a park that was filled with trees and flowers. The park wasn't too crowded but there were a decent amount of people minding their own business. Being autumn, most leaves on the trees were a fiery yet serene combination of red, orange and amber. We walked down a pathway lined with the trees and covered with fallen leaves.

"The scenery is amazing!" I stated in awe. I looked around to take in the view and turned back to Ava to only see her gazing at me.

"So are you," she added. I don't know how many more times she was going to make me blush but I wasn't complaining.

After walking a little more, we spotted a bench. We finished up the ice cream and threw the wrapper and tissue into the trash can nearby before I pulled her by the hand to sit.

She sat a few spaces away but I scooted closer to her. I took her hand in both of mine and placed it on my lap, caressing it. We've always been physically affectionate with each other and I'm not going to allow that to change now. I still wanted her to be comfortable around me despite our recent revelation about our relationship.

Once I saw her relax a bit, I placed my head on her shoulder. I could tell her heart started to race and I had to admit that her nearness was making my heart do the same. The smell of her perfume wafted up to my nose and made my mind hazy. I was finding it hard to focus on anything else with her so close to me. But the again, why would I want to focus on anything else?

I closed my eyes and heard her speak. "I don't think you know how painful it was seeing you with Noah yesterday at homecoming. I kept trying to tell myself that it wasn't my place to be jealous but I couldn't help it. I'm sorry."

"If it makes you feel any better, even though I was with Noah, I couldn't stop myself from staring at you," I confessed. "When I saw you, I thought I was looking at an ethereal being, you didn't look like you belonged on earth, let alone at some crappy high school gym."

She lets out a radiant giggle and I felt her shoulders shake in laughter as I continued, "I realised last night that it's been like this for some time now. I hope you know that this has been long time coming, it's not just some fluke thing that happened last night."

She wraps an arm around my waist, letting it rest against my hip. "I get it, I feel the same way. I've liked you for some time now but it was time I finally admitted it to myself."

I swallowed, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill. Hearing her speak like that made me indescribably happy. "Yesterday, at the dance, I was secretly hoping you'd cut in and ask me for a dance," I confessed.

"I was hoping you'd ask me!" she revealed and we both laughed.

Ava gently nudged me off of her and stood from the bench. I looked up at her, puzzled. She stretched out an arm, offering it to me. "Since I didn't get to ask you for a dance yesterday, I'm doing it now. Would you like to share a dance with me, darling?"

I giggled at her antics. "Ava, we're in the middle of the park! People will think we're mad!"

"I don't care about them, only you. Do you care?" she challenged back.

I didn't have to think twice about my answer. "When I'm with you? Never have and never will."

I placed my hand in hers and she brought it up to her lips kissing it before pulling me up to her feet. I crashed into her, laughing and holding onto her to stabilise myself. She chuckled along with me and guided us a few paces away from the bench. She positioned a hand on my hip and the other still clutching mine. Instinctively, I brought one hand to rest on her shoulder.

"There's no music," I stated.

"Looks like we'll just have to make our own."

Ava began humming a random tune and we started spinning around as if we were ballroom dancing. We stepped onto the grassy area as my laughter and Ava's humming increased in volume.

She twirled and dipped me. She placed both her hands on my waist and lifted me, spinning me in circles as I giggled uncontrollably. If anyone was staring, I didn't notice or bother. All I cared about was that I was in Ava's arms and I felt like I was flying.

She set me down and we both just looked at each other, smiling wider than we've seen each other grin before. I pulled her into me to hug her, resting my cheek against hers. Our heavy breathing and racing hearts began to subside. I moved back slightly in her arms to still see her smiling at me.

She looked back at me and seeing her so happy made me ecstatic in return. It made my heart sing to know I'm the reason for her happiness. The way she was looking at me made me feel important. It made me feel as if I was the best thing that's ever happened to her and it was then that I knew that the feeling was mutual.

Her mesmerising eyes gazed into mine and I thought back to last night, right before we kissed. I really wanted to kiss her then and I wanted it again now.

As if she could read my thoughts, she leaned in closer to me. Inches before her lips met mine, she stopped, hesitating if she should close the gap between us. I could feel her heart start pounding in her chest again against mine.

"Kiss me, Ava," I whispered, quietly enough so only she could hear.

She placed a hand behind my neck and tugged me into a kiss. Our lips met and it felt just as spectacular as last night's. I grabbed onto her harder, not wanting to let her go in case she pulls away but by the way she was clutching onto me made it clear she wouldn't dare dream of it.

Kissing Ava felt like the most wonderful thing in the universe. Mason and Noah were great kisser but even they couldn't even begin to compete with Ava. The small fluttering feeling in my tummy whenever I kissed them was nothing compared to the overwhelming sensation I was experiencing right now. Electricity was surging through my body, energising my entire being. It was entirely intoxicating. It was other-worldly.

I've never understood why people referred to their significant others as their weaknesses because right now, kissing Ava, I felt more alive than I ever did. She wasn't my weakness, she was my strength and...

Did I just refer to Ava as my significant other?

Like all good things, it had to come to an end. But it wasn't by choice, though. So enraptured in the kiss, I leaned further forward, causing Ava to lean back until she stumbled backwards and tripped over a rock. She crashed to the ground, taking me with her.

"Oof!"

"Ouch!"

We looked at each other and burst into a fit of laughter.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" I asked her in between giggles.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied in a similar manner.

Ava was flat on her back and I was still on top of her as I buried my face in the crook to muffle my laughter. Ava tossed her head back, still laughing.

After a while, the laughter died down and I lifted myself to look at her once again. We couldn't help it. We started giggling madly, so much so that I let out a snort that only made us more hysterical.

"Oh god, I can't breathe," Ava wheezed.

It took us at least a good three minutes to fully calm down. I rolled off Ava and laid beside her.

"C'mere," she said and pulled me closer.

I rested my head on her shoulder and draped an arm over her torso. She wrapped an arm around me while our legs intertwined. She was staring at the sky as I closed my eyes. It's amazing to think that just the day before yesterday I was worried about choosing between Mason and Noah but now, it's never been clearer that there was only one person for me. And ironically, it was neither of them.

Being here with Ava made me recognise that the reason I couldn't choose between either of them was because my heart already belonged to someone else without me even realising.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's  presence when I finally broke the quite.

"It's crazy how so much can change in a day." I said softly. "I admit, ever since day one, I would catch myself looking at you. I thought I was staring at you because that's just what people do when they find beauty in something. I know now that while that's true, there's more to it. And it's because I like you, Ava. I really like you. It might have taken us years for us to get here but I wouldn't have had it any other way."

I felt her hold her breath for a while before slowly exhaling.

I spoke again, "I think I'm gonna call it quits with Noah and Mason."

"Are you sure? That's pretty fast."

"I've never been more sure. I can't help but compare how much better everything feels with you. I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend yet, we don't have to rush it, but why lead them on when I already know you're the best for me. You, Ava Lawrence, are my first choice."

I opened my eyes. I still couldn't see Ava's face but I felt her inhaled deeply before gently, tenderly uttering, "You are my first choice too, Emma Price."

I felt the joy bubbling in me at her words. I smiled and let out a contented sigh.

I gave her a kiss on the cheek and whispered, "My feelings were never complicated, I was just to blind to see them for what they actually were." And it was true.

I couldn't help but think how glad I was that I didn't take on Mackenzie's bet. She was right. It always was and always will be Ava.

She may not have been my first love but she was my soulmate.

(More fics!)

[bruh-haikyuu]

A miya osamu scenario where he’s having a quality time together with fem s/o in a quiet little coffee shop 💕💕💕 Thaaaaanks

A/N: miya osamu. your hand in marriage. now. ALSO SPOILERS IF YOU HAVENT READ UP TO CHAPTER 378 OF THE MANGA.

apricate. | miya osamu

word count: 2040

warnings: MANGA SPOILERS, slight hints of sexual content

(v.) to bask in the sun

The silver band wrapped around your left ring finger glittered warmly at the amber beam of light streaming from the tiny shop’s window. From behind the mosaic counter adorning the back of the cafe, the aroma of caffeine and freshly baked fruit tarts poured between the tables in the room. At this hour of the day, the establishment was unusually quiet, but you weren’t exactly complaining about that—

“Osamu, I wanna go home.”

You were almost apologetic that your husband was into his third sigh of the day. At some point of time, you would be the reason behind his slowly settling wrinkles. “Y/N, it’s only been 5 minutes since we’ve sat down.”

It wasn’t like he could blame you for it. You weren’t just upset, you were distressed. A parent to three rambunctious children, and you had left them with the family shop on their own. Though it was only for the day—and seeing that they had demanded that the both of you “go and enjoy your day off”—you didn’t get much of a wink of leisure.

“A-Are you sure it’s alright to leave Setsuko to take care of her younger siblings?” you rattled, a soft image of your precious ten-year old daughter forming in your head. “Oooh… what if Eiji causes her too much trouble and insists that he keeps workin’ instead of eatin’ ? And ‘Samu, did you remember to tell her where Kaori’s diapers are kept? M-maybe, I should call her just to check…”

As you unclasped your purse to look for your cell phone, your face paled at its obvious absence from where it should’ve been. When you looked up to meet Osamu’s lax face, his expression had said it all.

Raising your “missing” phone in his hand, he crossed his arms and shot you a smirk that said: I took precautions.

“Y’know, if Secchan’s been pesterin’ us to get out of the house for so long, she knows exactly what you’d do to her if we came back to the house up in flames. Plus, Eiji and I had a talk the other day about over-workin’ himself, so rest assured, he ain’t going to be doing that for a loooong, long time… And yes. I did tell Setsuko that Kao-chan’s nappies are on the bottom drawer of her room. ‘S all good. Anything else, Miya Y/N-san?”

Now it was your turn to sigh. “They’re my children, ‘Samu. Can’t help it.”

“Hey, I’m also a part of the family. Why ain’t I stuck on your mind all the time too, huh?” he said gruffly, a tone reserved to cheer you up whenever you needed it.

That’s right, you could never help it. They were your babies, the angels that were growing up too fast for your liking. It felt like it was just yesterday that your firstborn Setsuko, now at a double-digit age, was curled in your arms. Practically attached at your hip 24/7. The moment she’d bashfully asked you to stop plaiting her hair for her, you swore you could hear your heart shatter.

Moreover, it didn’t help that eight-year old Eiji (despite still being pegged as a “Mama’s boy”) was becoming more and more of a carbon copy of his father—too hard-working, but too oblivious. You weren’t one to scold your children about their grades, but with Eiji’s frightful progress at school, the lingering thought of your son saying that he’d consider dropping out of school to “be an adult” so Osamu would let him work full-time at the shop hindered you from any good night’s sleep.

But Kaori… Oh, your darling treasure Miya Kaori. Just a year old, fresh from your womb. Like so, “Kao-chan” was the apple of your older children’s eyes and the jewel of her father’s heart. The lone salvation of your livelihood was her innocent youth and you were desperately begging the gods to keep it that way. As soon as Kaori would start tying her own shoelaces and everything, you were sure you were going to turn into stone.

Your knees bumping under the picturesque, wrought iron table, Osamu gave you an endearing smile. “Relax. We have Fuji-san to keep an eye on ‘em in the shop, right? That guy’s got more nerves than his own body. If we’re worried about anythin’, it’s that the kids would get bored with him telling them to sit still.”

Your mind drifted to the thought of the young but unusually high-strung college student who’d been working part-time at the onigiri shop for two years. Osamu did make a point though. The bespectacled Fujiwara Chiaki was probably more dedicated to working than your own husband—a trait that he had likely passed on to your only son Eiji. The idea was concerning, but not to the extent where your head throbbed from it.

“They say if you think too much, you’ll grow old faster,” Osamu poked teasingly, while pushing a plate of a fragrant confectionary towards you. “You didn’t even notice that I’d brought back your favorite cheesecake.”

At the mention of the dessert, your eyes shot downwards to the platter. It looked just as sweet and luscious as it always did. From the first time you had it in high school as a “thank-you gift” from Osamu for helping him study for his exams, down to your wedding party where your friends had surprised you with an entire tower of it. You were sure Osamu would’ve been sick of tasting the velvety cream for 20 years and counting, but there was another suspicion you had that he’d feel gratified whenever he got it for you.

Holding out a forkful of cake, he said smugly at your twinkling gaze. “Open sesame, Y/N-chan.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second. When was the last time you got to enjoy yourself without any sniffles or pleading demands from your children? They’d inherited you and their father’s affinity for eating after all; a meal would never go untouched when it came to the Miya household. And if you’d brought this cake home, you know they’d bulldoze it down before you could grab a slice for yourself.

“So good…” you murmured, savoring the lightness of the dessert. Tangy and tethering on the border of being sweet and too sweet, this was indefinitely your next favorite thing after your family.

Osamu chuckled as you ate, tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ear. “Ain’t this getting too sugary for you? Y’know, I only gave you this the first time because I’d felt my teeth would fall out if I ate a bite of it.”

“You practically bribed me with it so I’d date you. If you think about it, you used this to bribe me into a lot of things!” your pout did not mask your amusement at all.

“Like how I used this so you’d finally catch a break from coddlin’ Secchan and have a better ‘time’ with your lovin’ husband? I’d say that it was a profitable compromise, my dear.”

You scoffed. “Profitable until you learn that having a second child was harder that you’d thought. How’d it feel tryin’ to feed Eiji the first time, huh?”

“It was a coincidence that Eiji just had to be a picky child growing up,” he shrugged. “Should I point out that you made it harder with spoilin’ him rotten, Mama Miya?”

You gave him your best, dramatized expression of offense. Oh, two could play this game. “Excuse you, Papa Miya. But who was the one who bought Setsuko an entire 50,000 yen-pretend kitchen as soon as she gave them one small tug on the sleeve?”

“C’mon, Y/N, you knew if I could afford it I’d buy it for her, no questions asked! The face she pulled when we brought it home could add ten years to my lifespan. There’s no way I would want to miss it,” his cheeks flared a vivid crimson. Hiding a snicker, you wondered how long it had been since you’d last seen that look on him.

“Miya Setsuko, the heiress of Onigiri Miya, already interested in the way of the stove at four years old! I couldn’t believe it. Ain’t she pretty darn cute in that apron we got in the set? Nah… that’s probably because Secchan’s pretty darn cute herself…” He was rambling now, eyes glossed over at the image of his daughter. Six years ago, she’d happily hopped into his lap when he’d finished tying up the frilly, daffodil-yellow apron, and gave him a hug that nearly pushed him to tears. Oh, how you wished you were there to see it.

“Osamu… Your gap moe* is showin’.”

“Oh, hush!” he spat, averting his gaze from yours as your leaned back on your chair, nearly doubling over in laughter. Though part of his face was covered by the large, ornate coffee mug, you knew he was smiling through and through.

The soft tinkling of the fake crystal chandeliers in your wake, your insides felt tingly in a way you haven’t felt for so long. What felt like hours, you spent talking with your husband about your little family, the shop, his brother (though this was quickly interrupted by another conversation about what Kaori’s first word would be), and all the things you’d never had the time to talk about since you were both so busy. It was just like high school all over again, only less melodramatic and more… wrinkly. But just as colorful as it always had been.

However, when Osamu fell silent, you knew something had gone terribly wrong. Setting down your fork, you leaned over the small table to observe his wallowing features.

“Osamu, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

As if he was being forced to shove an entire rock down his throat, he whispered, “… I miss ‘em.”

You stared at him, then did a double take. “S-sorry, say that again? Didn’t hear you.”

With reddened cheeks, he repeated himself anyway. “ I miss ‘em! All this talk about the kids… I know it’s only been a couple of hours but I miss Secchan already! M-my baby. My princess. Y-you know what it’s like, right, Y/N?”

You felt like a colossal force had lifted from your back. Grabbing your husband’s shoulders from across the table, you shook him while exclaiming, “Me too! I miss ‘em too! God, the entire time I was wishing I was feedin’ this cake to Eiji instead of myself. The way his cheeks puff up when he chews something… I have to see it…! And especially—”

“Kao-chan.”

“Kaori.”

And just as the planets aligned, your cell phone that had been sitting in Osamu’s coat the entire time rang. Taking it out of his pocket, he showed you the screen, displaying the name of the caller. Fujiwara Chiaki.

With your husband pressed close to your side, both cramped on one dainty seat of the cafe’s chair, you listened closely to the other side of the phone. “Hello? Fujiwara-kun?”

Chiaki’s meek but strangely jovial voice responded through the speakers. “Ah, Y/N-san, you picked up. The children wanted to speak with you about something. I think you’ll like this—”

“Chiakiii! You’re takin’ too long on the phone~ Hi, Mama! Can Papa hear me too?!”

Looking at your husband, you exchanged a smile. Eiji. Leaning his head on your shoulder, he cooed at your son. “I’m right here, Eiji.”

“Great! Because we have some ultra, big, super, important news to tell you—!”

A pop, a crackle and Eiji’s exuberant voice turned into Setsuko’s huffy, light one. “Eiji, Mama and Papa put me in charge so I’m gonna tell ‘em! …Mama, Mama, Mama, you won’t believe what happened!”

“Oh? What happened, Setsuko?” you giggled, heart softening at the lilt of your daughter’s voice.

“Kao-chan said her first word today!”

Literally swiping the phone from your grasps, Osamu, practically gleaming from the announcement, excitedly quivered as he spoke. “R-really? She did that, Secchan? What did she say? Was it ‘Papa’ or ‘Mama’?”

“Hmm… I think it was—”

“Second thought, don’t tell us. I want to see and hear it for myself.”

That was your cue. Unravelling your right arm into the air, you shot the waitress your biggest smile. “Check, please!”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

gap moe - when someone does something that is the complete opposite of their habits

[queen-scribbles]

Ours

Here we go, only three years overdue, canon version of Tel finding out he’s a dad. :D

---

Elara was fidgeting.

It was an unusual enough sight it almost stopped Tel in his tracks. Elara Dorne--well, Airen--didn’t fidget. No matter how pleasant or unpleasant or boring the circumstances, she was the model of poise and professionalism. And she definitely. Did not. Fidget.

Except, apparently, for now. Her fingers picked at the small metallic object she held as she sat on the couch in their quarters, and she looked a hairsbreadth from bouncing her knee as well. Which meant whatever was on her mind was likely something beyond serious and should be treated accordingly.

So he swallowed any jokes he been planning and plopped down on the couch  next to her. “You wanted to talk, Els?”

“I did.” She nodded, her attention still on the object in her hands. She turned it over and over, picking at the edges.

“Must be important,” Tel hinted gently when she didn’t continue.

A wry smile pulled at one side of her mouth. “It is. Dearest...” Elara bit her lip as the words petered out, then shook her head slightly and started over. “I have... something important to discuss with you; a topic I’ve been wanting to broach since... since Iokath. With our schedules it’s proven difficult to find a good time, so I’m doing it now, whether or not it’s good, and I apologize for any meetings you may miss as a result.”

“I’m all ears,” Tel promised, reaching over to give her knee a comforting squeeze. “You’re way more important to me than any meeting.”

She mustered a smile at that, then leaned forward and placed the object she’d been fiddling with on the low table in front of the couch. It was a small holoprojector, etched with a simple design, the type made to be portable and store images long term. A brush of Elara’s thumb over the controls brought it to life.

Tel examined the pale blue image when it appeared. It was a young girl--maybe seven?--with dark hair that hung almost to her waist. She was smiling impishly, and even as a holo there was no hiding the twinkle of mischievous charm in her eyes. Her hands were clasped behind her back as if trying to keep something secret just a few moments longer.

“Cute kid,” Tel said, glancing at Elara and wondering which potential direction this was going to go.

“She is,” Elara confirmed with a faint smile. “Her name is Kaira.” She reached over and laced her fingers between his. “She’s ours.”

It took half a second for her meaning to hit, and Tel flinched, grip tightening around her hand, when it did. The air seemed to freeze in his lungs for a moment as he stared at the holo.

“She...” he finally managed through the punched-in-the-gut feeling. “...Yours-and-mine ours?”

She nodded and squeezed his hand. “Are you alright, Tel?”

“Sweetheart, I’m...” A dad. I’m a dad. He gave a breathless laugh. “I’m great. A little stunned, but elated.” He freed his hand to drag her into a hug, still staring at the holo of his daughter. He had a daughter. “Weighing the pros and cons of punching Arcann in the teeth for making me miss... her, but otherwise...” A thought occurred and he frowned ever so slightly. “Did Jorgan know?”

He might be having words with the man if he had and didn’t say anything.

Elara shook her head and sat back to meet his eyes, her posture noticeably less tense. “She must have been conceived just before the Expedition was... lost” --her voice faltered for just a moment-- “and I didn’t discover I was pregnant until after the Supreme Chancellor had relieved me of my Havoc command. Jorgan and I didn’t keep in touch much past the first month or two, while he was helping me attempt to get the position back.” She smiled. “He probably wondered why I wasn’t fighting for it harder, truth be told. But between my condition and Chancellor Saresh’s obvious obstinance, it quickly became evident that was not a worthwhile fight.”

“So working for Malcolm...”

“Was actually rather perfect,” Elara confirmed the unfinished question with a nod. “I was still involved, still doing my part, but in a more administrative capacity than field work. It allowed me to... look for you and prepare for raising a child alone.”

He winced. “Sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Considering you were frozen in carbonite half a galaxy away at that point, I think I can safely say it wasn’t your fault, dearest,” she said lightly.

“And we’re back to me punching Arcann in the face,” Tel muttered, tugging her in for another hug.

“That wouldn’t really help anything at this point, darling,” Elara remonstrated, though her lips quirked toward a smile.

“Would make me feel a hell of a lot better,” he grumbled. “But I guess it wouldn’t set the best example, would it? For... Kaira.” It made him grin a little just saying her name.

She giggled faintly, the sound muffled by his shirt. “No, it wouldn’t.”

Tel rested his chin against the top of her head and gave an exaggerated huff of resignation. “Oh, fine, I won’t punch the reformed tyrant for makin’ me miss my daughter growin’ up.” He hesitated a beat, gaze back on the holo. “Els? What’s she like?”

Elara was quiet for a moment, her fingers curling into his shirt, but he could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke. “She’s... wonderful. Challenging at times, but worth every moment she’s made me want to pull my hair out. She has your smile, a fact I’ve both loved and hated depending on the day.”

He hugged her closer wordlessly, shifting so the corner of the couch would offer some support.

Elara took a deep breath. “She was a good baby, for which I’m grateful. Could likely sleep through a bombing run.”

“Els.” He didn’t want to dwell on the odds that theory had been tested, knowing what the Eternal Empire had done to Coruscant.

“We’re fine. Nothing ever came close enough,” she promised, before carrying on. “She’s extremely curious, very smart-”

“She gets that from you,” Tel muttered, which earned a quiet chuckle from his wife.

“I wouldn’t sell yourself so short, dearest. You’re not a stupid man,” she said teasingly, her fingers tracing light patterns against his collarbone. 

“I was smart enough to marry you,” Tel conceded. “So I guess I’m not a total lost cause.”

“There you go, Kaira gets her smarts from both of us,” Elara laughed softly.

But more from you. Tel kept the thought to himself. “If anyone could raise a smart, amazing kid by themselves, it would be you,” he said instead.

“There you go putting me on a pedestal again,” Elara said, playful chiding in her tone.

“Again implies a point where you came down from the pedestal,” Tel rejoined.He kissed the top of her head. “You’re there for life, sweetheart.”

“Ah.” There was a smile in her voice. “Well, before you go counting up more honors for me,Tel; I did not raise her entirely on my own. I had friends who helped, and Aleksei did as well, when he could.”

“Okay, that one’s a bit of a surprise,” Tel admitted. “I thought your brother was in Republic custody?”

“He was. A ‘person of concern’, I believe was the classification; same as I once was. And then he made some valuable contributions at great personal risk in fighting the second Zakuulan assault on Coruscant, which earned him some greater freedoms. Such as lending the Republic his technical expertise and assisting me with Kaira.”

“‘Great personal risk’?” Tel repeated, having noticed how her voice caught on the phrase.

Elara gave a shaky sigh. “Let’s just say you are no longer the only person I care about who has gotten himself blown up in the course of being noble. It wasn’t quite bad enough to require cybernetics, but there was scarring. And a limp.”

Tel blew out a breath and rubbed her back. “I’m glad he’s okay, Els.”

“As am I. After recovering, he was tasked with something computer-related that kept him on Coruscant, so he could help sometimes with Kaira. A lot, actually.” She smiled again. “They’ve grown quite close. She calls him Uncle Lesky, even now that she can say his name correctly.”

Tel smiled, his brow furrowing slightly in thought. “Oh, yeah, she must be, what, six or seven by now?”

Elara stilled for a moment, then reluctantly slid from their hug so she could look at him. “That’s part of why I felt it so urgent to tell you; she’ll be six next week. I assumed you would want to meet her before then. So we could celebrate as a family.”

Yes. “I dunno Els,” he deadpanned with a faint smirk. “Depends on what you’ve told her about me.”

Elara matched his smirk. “Oh, you know, as we discussed; you’re brave, handsome, charming. How you took the stuffy Imperial no one liked and made me the happiest woman in the galaxy, every day we were together. That you always stood up for those who couldn’t protect themselves, and helped those who could stand their ground. That you have a ridiculous sweet tooth she apparently inherited along with your kindness. That you like to steal the blankets,” she continued playfully, leaning in to steal a kiss. “And that you always know how to make me laugh.” She paused, sighed. “How much you would love her.”

“And the fact I was declared KIA? That come up yet?” he asked dryly.

Her brow furrowed briefly, and Tel caught the flicker of pain that danced through her brown eyes. “It did, when she was three. I told her some people believed you died fighting something very dangerous to protect the galaxy, but they were wrong. You were still alive, fighting to keep us safe.” She looked him in the eye. “Because that’s what I believed, with all my heart. She accepted it--what’s the saying about mother knows best?--and it didn’t come up again. Then the Republic learned of your Alliance, and I could show her you were alive and” --she smiled drolly-- “fighting bad guys to keep us safe. I suspect she’d be very excited to hear she can finally meet you.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” Tel grinned, kissing the tip of Elara’s nose. “She with your brother right now?”

Elara nodded. “She is. Whenever I’m off-planet.”

“Then hell yes, see how fast you can get ‘em out here.” He kissed her again. “I know Aleksei might not be able to stay long if he has a job to get back to, but I’d like the chance to ‘meet’ him without transparisteel and a Republic watchdog in the picture.”

A soft, giddy laugh escaped her. “I’ll get right on that. As soon as I steal you for myself just a bit longer,” she amended, leaning back into his space and bracing a hand against the arm of the couch to kiss him.

Tel grinned slyly, cupping her face with one hand and running his thumb along her cheekbone. “Seventy three minutes?”

Elara smiled back mischievously and carded her fingers through his hair until her hand rested at the back of his head. “If you think we can manage that long...”

He closed the distance to capture her lips in a kiss. “Sweetheart, I’d like to see them try and stop us.”

----

They got forty seven minutes, which was frankly longer than either of them had really expected, before Tel’s comm started trilling. And so, with much grumbling about “no rest for the wicked”, he got himself together and headed off to see what the Alliance needed, leaving Elara to work out getting their daughter to Odessen.

She slipped the holo in his pocket as he headed out the door. “In case you want to show her off.”

And show her off he did; to Theron, Lana, Vette, Senya--anyone at all  who commented on the grin he couldn’t seem to wipe off his face. He did his best not to be distracted from the Important Alliance Business that required his attention, but a man had his limits.

He slipped a hand in his pocket to curl around the cool metal as he tried to focus on Aygo’s briefing about ship deployments rather than what was (hopefully) coming soon, and smiled to himself. 

I can’t wait to meet you, Kaira.

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

(I was originally gonna take this through Tel actually getting to meet Kaira, but that part’s getting crazy long and I need to work on other stuff that has actual deadlines, so it’ll have to wait.)

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Please, obligatory "hunger games au" please?

[Technically a Catching Fire AU, since I didn’t actually want to write all the protagonists killing each other, but the concept is the same.]

When the announcement of the Quarter Quell comes, past Hunger Games champions to be reaped all over again, Rachel thinks Oh.  Thinks, they were always going to find a way to get rid of me.

She cheated, after all.  Broke the Games, ensuring two winners instead of just one.  The poison passing between her lips and Marco’s.  The defiant dare: that the Capitol could have two survivors, or it could have none.  She and Marco sobbed out their love as they clung to each other later that day, and it’s been enough to keep them alive until now.  But it was never going to last.

When she tells Marco this, he laughs.  “It’s not just us, though.  Think about it.”  He ticks them off on his fingers as he goes. “Erek sabotaged the Arena itself to win.  James was one of the figureheads of the District 6 protest.  Ax is too well-liked by too many important people.  Even your boy Tobias smuggled all of those Avoxes out of the Capitol — no, don’t try to deny it, it’s not like I don’t know.”

“So it’s not just us people are rallying behind,” Rachel says.  “We’re not the only troublemakers.”

Marco winks at her.  “You are the rallying point, my dear.  I’m just your adorable side piece.”

“If it had to happen again, better that it do so while you’re still young and strong and pretty,” Alloran intones.  He’s looking over Ax and Estrid, unamused as always.  “Better yet, Aximili, you could’ve kept your mouth shut and we wouldn’t be here at all.”

Ax shrugs.  He’s one of dozen surviving male champions from District 4, so it’s just bad luck that he’s got an honorable streak he can’t seem to shake.  Ax is pretty sure that if his own name had been called then Alloran would’ve volunteered in his place, which is why he’d volunteered for Alloran.

“We’re both out of practice,” Estrid says.  “I’ve been in biotech labs for most of the last thirteen years, and Ax’s been getting fat entertaining the upper crust—”

“Do not speak about things you do not understand,” Alloran says flatly, and Estrid shuts up.

Ax keeps his expression pleasantly neutral.  He’s very good at it, by now.  “She has a point,” he says.  “We’re both past our prime.”

“Not as far past as I am.”  Alloran narrows his eyes at Ax, almost certainly still angry about Ax not letting him go die in the Games.  Alloran might have been a butcher in the Arena in his own time, but he’s seventy-six years old.

Ax lifts his chin.  “Tell us what you would have us do, mentor.”

“Go on, start making friends,” Nora says quietly, looking over the lunch room.  “It’s high time you got to work on your strategy.  Rachel’s no good at alliances — just look at that kid Karen she helped through half the last games.  So it’s all on you.”

Marco makes no move to go join anyone.  “We shouldn’t delude ourselves about my chances.  Last time, I was up against mostly half-starved kids, and I still would’ve died if Rachel hadn’t carried me through, sometimes literally.  Now?” he says.  “Twenty-three warriors.  Every single one of them a card-carrying baby-killer.  My scintillating wit and charm aren’t going to be enough this time.”

“So you have no strategy at all, then.”  Nora only says it because she knows it’s not true.  She knows his mind; she sponsored him in his own Games, and then they co-sponsored eight other kids.  Hell, after what happened to his parents, and hers, each of them is the closest thing the other one has left to family.

“Probably for the best if my strategy doesn’t depend on trusting any of these people,” Marco counters.

“Not even the District 10 girl?”

“What, Cassie?  Just because she cries over ‘em after she kills them doesn’t mean she’s not still a killer.  I don’t trust her any more than David.”

Nora smiles grimly.  “In that case, you’re probably trusting David too much.”  David won 10 years back by luring several tributes into deadly traps with promises of or requests for aid, and then ripping apart their bodies even after they were long dead.  The first kill he’d made had been the 12-year-old girl from his own district, who’d given him some of her food and then been too weak to resist as he held her face-down in the mud until she’d stopped struggling.

“Maybe I’ll go cower behind one of the Careers, see if that’ll keep me alive,” Marco says.  “Big Jake, for one.”  Jake Berenson of District 2 is from a long bloodline of Career tributes, one that has turned out more champions per dead child than any other.  He’s well-liked, well-fed, and strong enough to kill barehanded.

“Erek King,” Nora suggests.  “You know, the District 3 boy?  He doesn’t look like much, but he probably won’t turn on you.”

Marco snorts.  “He’s only a pacifist until you back him into a corner.  Just like the rest of us.”

“Hold the lift!” someone calls, and Cassie lunges forward to punch the door-open button.  Both District 12 tributes slide into the elevator with her, panting slightly.  They’re no longer on fire, she’s glad to see.

“Thanks,” Rachel says.  She and Marco are still holding hands, as always, but up close it looks like Rachel is holding Marco upright by their shared grip.

Marco barely lets the doors close before leaning heavily into Rachel’s arm and kicking off one of his shoes.  It clatters loudly across the floor, and Cassie realizes it has an almost eight-inch heel — their stylist’s trick to make Marco taller than Rachel.  Marco lowers himself to the floor, standing on his own now, and yanks at the other shoe.  It catches on the hem of his robe, and with a hiss of annoyance he rips that off too, revealing that he wears nothing underneath.

Cassie turns away, feeling her face flush.

“What, like you’ve never seen a naked man before?” Rachel asks, laughing.  “You were at the opening ceremony, you saw what Ax was — and wasn’t — wearing.”

Yes, and Cassie had felt sick to her stomach watching the way the crowd ogled him, a piece of meat that they couldn’t wait to devour.

“Come now, my love, you know style’s all part of the strategy, for that one especially,” Marco says to Rachel.  He’s not wrong: if Ax can play the crowd well enough, the sponsors might even be able to get him another version of that scythe-thing he favors.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not crass, sweetheart.”  Rachel grins at him.  “Kind of like stripping down in an elevator to try and shock the baby tribute.”

“Doubt I interest her, my darling,” Marco says, “seeing as I’m not a muttation.”  He laughs and adds, “not yet, anyway.”

Cassie realizes she still hasn’t said a word.  Not about the nudity, not about the taunting reference to her own victory, earned when she nursed an injured muttation back to life and taught it to kill for her.  And what’s she supposed to say?  One of these two will kill her, likely as not, before the week is out.

The best that Tobias can say about his own interview is that he manages not to let anything show on his face.  He does his best to answer the questions — about District 11, about his feather-patterned costume, about what he thinks Crayak has planned for the games ahead — in ways that are unremarkable and inoffensive.  He and Melissa both won, eight years apart, with the same strategy: they’re small and lithe and easily underestimated, but they’re also able to flit through the trees well overhead of their fellow tributes without being spotted until it’s too late.  Now, the advantage of surprise is gone with the broadcast of his last Games, and the advantage of agility disappeared with the bottom half of his right leg after infection set in.  He’s going to die.  But he wants to die with dignity, he told Melissa last night, even though he knows that probably won’t be possible.

Rachel and Marco both have it easy during the interview process.  All Marco has to do is tell the story of Rachel first trying on her flaming dress, and how beautiful she’d looked to his eyes even while waiting for her hair to catch on fire.  The audience is eating it up, laughing and cheering even as many of them sob openly throughout.  Rachel’s so stunning in her wedding dress, even as it crumbles to ash around her, that it’s easy to fall in love with her through Marco’s eyes.  When she promises to protect what is hers, staring fiercely into the camera with clenched jaw and narrowed eyes, half the Capitol falls in love with Marco all over again.

Cassie’s interview is still the most interesting, in that she gets six words into a protest speech about the treatment of the outer districts before her mic cuts off and a “technical malfunction” shuts down the conversation.  Jake’s is exactly what you’d expect from a Career, lots of shrugging and mumbling and letting his bulk speak for itself, while Ax’s causes no less than fourteen rapturous fainting spells as various audience members are overcome with the power of their love for him.

All in all, Tobias is pretty sure he fades into the mass of tributes — Collette in her wheelchair, Loren who smirks under opaque glasses, Taylor whose beauty remains undiminished by her three prosthetic limbs — whom everyone has written off as unlikely to win.  It’s probably for the best, Tobias assumes.  If it comes down to that, he’ll be just like the rebels and sponsors: fighting tooth and nail to keep Rachel alive.

Rachel buries her face against Marco’s neck, dark hair and blond tangling together.  “I think…” she breathes against his skin, too soft for the microphones to detect.  “I think maybe we can trust the Ellimist.”

She feels his jaw tighten where they’re pressed together.  Marco’s the cynic who dances them away from the worst of the traps; she’s the optimist too stubborn to know when she’s been beat.  They make a good team.  She owes her life to his inspired decision to declare his love for her on live TV just as much as he owes her for the trick with the berries.

“He’s one of the Gamemakers,” Marco hisses.  “Fuck that.”

Rachel shakes her head just a little.  “He showed me…  I can’t explain it, not here.  Just— Do you think you can trust me?”

“Always.”  Marco sounds like he means it, because he’s skilled like that.  “Always.”

Ax does his best to breathe, in the seconds between their ascent into the Arena and the gong signifying the land mines’ deactivation that will release them from their pressure pads to begin the Games.  He’s a warrior, the servant of his district and his family.  He has volunteered twice now, once in Arbron’s place, once in Alloran’s.  Let it be done.

Across the way, he sees that even as Rachel rises into position she’s already making some busy motion with both hands close to her chest.  Ax can’t see clearly what she’s doing, but he sees Tobias’s eyes go wide in alarm.

Tobias frantically shakes his head, but Rachel ignores him.  She scans the lines of tributes until she finds her target.  When she does, her smile grows vicious.  Her right hand flashes out as she throws an object full-force at David’s face.

It’s her belt buckle, Ax realizes.  A nearly-useless weapon, small and blunt.  But does the job.  When it smacks David squarely in the cheek it throws him off balance.  Enough that he staggers back two steps — straight off the pressure pad, ten seconds before the gong.

Wha-BOOM!

The concussion of the land mine triggering breezes against Ax’s face nearly twenty yards away.  And just like that, the 75th Hunger Games begin.

The instant the gong sounds, Marco is off and running.  Headed for Rachel.  She whips around when she hears his approach, sliding into a defensive stance, but she relaxes by millimeters when she sees that it’s him.

Without any discussion, she and Marco and Tobias fall into a loose phalanx, facing outward with makeshift weapons in hand.  All Marco’s managed to grab so far is a piece of the platform he was on, but improvised weapons have always been his specialty.  He’s yanking and twisting sharp edges into place like this is yet another chunk of District 12 fence ripped from its posts, when something whistles over his head.

He ducks, almost too late.  Taylor’s knife flies past, embedding itself in the backpack that Rachel holds up to shield herself.  Rachel yanks the knife loose and flips it around in her hand.  Beside her, Tobias holds a stick like a club, staring around wildly.

Taylor’s second knife never leaves her hand.  Instead she dives forward, headed for Marco’s throat —

Shink.

Taylor coughs hot blood onto Marco’s face.  The steel that killed her yanks loose from her body as Ax pulls his blade back into his hand.  

It’s almost faster than Marco’s eyes can follow.  The chain it’s on whips behind him, then snaps outward again.  This time the scythe-thing takes a girl’s hand clean off at the wrist.  Again Ax snaps it back to himself, coiled and at the ready faster than thought.

Marco sees Rachel go pale as she registers the kusarigama in Ax’s hand.  It’s like a chain mace with a bladed head, a machete attached to the end of a bullwhip.  Not the kind of thing that one finds at a corner store in Panem.  The kind of thing that the Gamemakers must have placed here, after having seen the way that Ax wields one like it’s an extra limb.  The kind of thing they must have put down deliberately, if they wanted him to win.

“We have to go!” Tobias shouts.

Marco gestures for him to lead the way.  There’s no use sticking around to get slaughtered at the Cornucopia, and especially no use risking Rachel.  The three of them take off at a steady run, leaving Ax’s graceful slaughter in their wake.

Jake kills a muttation just as it is sneaking up on Marco and Tobias.  This makes no sense, Marco concludes, but there’s no time to question it.  

Marco takes a thrown hatchet to the shoulder protecting Rachel, because that’s all he can do.  He tells himself that he isn’t hurt when she hisses angrily that there’s no one left to impress so he can just stop with the lover-boy act now.

Ax kills the District 3 tribute who nearly killed Marco, but then refuses to kill Marco even as he’s lying wounded on the ground.  

They don’t seem to understand, Marco wants to shout, that he’s not important.  Rachel — beautiful Rachel, strong fierce tough Rachel, Rachel who can launch a thousand ships with the power of her bravery — is the important one.  Marco’s just the clever little schemer who showed the Capitol who she is, just set dressing in her story.

The Games… don’t work the way they’re supposed to.  Six tributes die of smoke inhalation.  One drowns.  There are four murders, and then no more.  The remaining thirteen, and then twelve, and then eleven, keep allying with each other.  Crayak’s direct intervention, or maybe the Ellimist’s, whittles their numbers, but the survivors keep drawing in tighter and helping one another.  And if everyone is allied, no one is killing.

“So what’s it going to be, then?” Jake asks.  He glances around at all of them, but his eyes meet Ax’s and hold there.  Ax stares steadily back.

There’s a wary sort of camaraderie there, and Cassie knows its source.  In a way, these two are just the same.  Each one is his family’s second chance at a champion.  They are seconds sons, both of whom watched older brothers volunteer and be shipped off to the Arena.  Both of whom watched their brothers’ state-sponsored murder in full technicolor on 20-foot screens.  Both of whom volunteered in their turn.  Career tributes, yes, but the sort of Careers who lack all delusions of glory or honor.

“Let’s do it.”  Rachel speaks first.  She’s the first pick in her own family.  First of three.  And Cassie chills to think of the things that Rachel has already proven willing to do, in order to prevent her little sisters’ entering the Arena.

“You know I’m with you,” Tobias says, smiling sadly at Rachel.  She smiles back, brushing the back of her hand over his.

Those two are cousins, if the Capitol propaganda is to be believed, but Cassie wasn’t born yesterday.  Marco and Rachel are very good at playing the game behind the game — so good, in fact, that they’re engaged to be married and claim to have a kid on the way — but up close, they’re also very obviously playing, their flirtation only a game to them.  It’s Tobias and Rachel who look at each other with real affection, with real desperation.  But their story didn’t advance the cause, and so the Capitol took advantage of a passing resemblance — blond hair, long limbs — for its own ends.

“No offense,” Marco says, in a tone that guarantees he’s about to cause offense, “but why would we ever believe you people?  Some of us who didn’t grow up on three servings of meat a day bought by past kids’ victories need proof that you Careers aren’t just going to turn on us.”

“You have no reason to trust us,” Jake says.  “None of us has any reason to trust any of the others.  But I will tell you this much: the Capitol needs us to hate and fear each other, or else this whole sick enterprise cannot continue.  You can all do what you want, but I’m going to choose to believe that maybe, just maybe, everyone else here wants to go down defying the Capitol rather than continuing to play puppet for their entertainment.”

Ax plants the end of his kusarigama against the ground, expression hard with determination.  “You tell us what to do, and I will follow.”

“Yeah.”  Rachel laughs, tossing her head back.  “What he said.  Let’s start kicking the asses of some people whose asses actually deserve to be kicked for once.”

They’re hiding in District 13.  Turns out that’s still a thing.  Marco got away from the Gamemakers; Nora did not.  Marco surprises himself with how much he misses her, like maybe he did care about her after all.  It’s too late now, though.  The next time he sees her, she’ll be brainwashed and mind-controlled, if she’s even still alive.

“Hi, there.”  Cassie sits down next to Marco at one of the long cafeteria tables.  She turns to follow the direction of his gaze.

Rachel’s sitting across the room, leaning close to talk to Tobias.  The two of them hold hands across the table, able to be affectionate in front of witnesses for the first time in their lives.  Rachel doesn’t seem to realize, caught up in conversation as she is, how easy she is to love.  She doesn’t know the effect she has, and maybe that’s part of her power.  She wasn’t lying when she said she only volunteered to save Jordan, and she’s not lying now when she promises to save all of Panem.

“For you it’s real, isn’t it?” Cassie asks quietly.  “She has no idea, and neither did I at first… but you really are in love with her.”

Marco laughs, tempted to deny it.  But what would be the point?  “Isn’t everyone?”