#also she dropped a book very loudly in a quiet section and i thought we would get kicked out. it was fine tho

[straightlightyagami]

took my little sister to my university today and showed her around the library. she saw a few trigonometry books and kept pointing at them and saying “eww” lol

[johnsbleu]

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 156

warnings: nsfw, john’s pov (i love how that’s a warning lmao) HMH Masterlist

The shop is always so peaceful and quiet in the mornings. The sun peeks in through the windows and shines on the the floor, leaving the shadows of the window panes. The plants that Y/N bought look so nice and green in the sunlight, and they add some color to the shop. I told her that the shop doesn’t need any more plants, but who am I to say no to her? She’s just too damn cute.

I grab the watering can and fill it up with some water in the bathroom, then I stop and turn around to head into the office to grab the plant food Y/N bought for the plants. I can already hear her right now telling me to ‘feed her babies’. I smile a little when I think about her, then I add a few drops of the liquid to the water and slosh it around to mix it up before I head back out to water the plants.

Looking over at the door, I see Tony knocking on the door to be let in, so I set the watering can aside and walk over to unlock the door.

“Hey, Mr. Wick.” Tony says, and I let out a small laugh. He shakes his head and laughs, “John, sorry. It just feels wrong sometimes.”

“No worries.” I grab the watering can and finish watering the plants that are littered throughout the shop, then I wave when Katie walks in, “Hey.”

Katie smiles as she shuts the door, “Surprised to see you here.”

“Yeah,” I laugh as I look at her, “Grace has to take her mom to an appointment this morning, so I’m just opening until she’s able to come in.”

“How’s the Mrs. and the little munchkin?”

I smile at the thought of my beautiful girls back home waiting for me, “They’re good. Both were fast asleep when I left this morning. Ro is cutting another tooth, so it was a sleepless night for all of us last night, which isn’t great since we have Ronan’s nine month checkup this afternoon.”

“Oh,” Katie grimaces, then she nods as she walks over to me, “My nephew is teething. I know how hard that is. My condolences.”

“Thanks. I’ll pass them along.” I smile, then I look over at Tony as he begins to go through a box of books we just got. I walk over to change to the sign on the door to let people know we’re open, then I take another quick walk around the shop to make sure everything is in place.

There’s a new shipment of toys and books for the kid’s section, so I walk into the office and grab it so I can put them out on the shelves. I smile when I open the box and see the stuffed animals inside, and I grab out the little pig and set it aside for a very special girl who I know will love it. I grab out several stuffed animals and clip them to the rope for toys, then I set books out on the display before I stand back and admire my work a little.

There’s a few things that I need to get done this morning; just some more shipments of new books and things, and I also need to make the schedule for next week, then I can finally head home to see my girls.

__

Since Grace came in a little early, I was able to get out early as well, which is great since Y/N probably needs my help to get Ro ready for the day. It’s only a little after 10, so I decide to call her to see if she’s eaten anything yet--I know Ro will have eaten by now, but Y/N tends to forget about herself.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hi, are you on your way home?”

I smile as I nod, “I am, I just wanted to call and see if you’ve eaten yet.”

“I just fed Bug, now we’re laying in bed just relaxing.”

I nod my head again since I know she hasn’t eaten, “Okay, well, I’ll be home in about 15 minutes.”

Y/N laughs when Ronan babbles loudly into the phone, “She said that she wants you to hurry up because she misses her daddy.”

“Well, I’ll be there soon,” I laugh, turning down the street to the bagel shop, “I love you.”

“Don’t take too long, I miss you!”

Nodding my head, I laugh a little, “I miss you too. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Okay, I love you.”

“I love you too, peach.”

__

Walking into the house, I smile when Bleu trots over to greet me, then he runs back to the stairs and looks at me, like he’s telling me that the girls are upstairs. I follow him upstairs and smile when I turn the corner and see Y/N standing in front of the mirror as she fixes her romper thing she’s wearing.

“Hi.” I smile, and she looks over at me and perks up. She has a little hop in her step as she walks over and wraps her arms around my waist, then she kisses me several times before she leans back and looks down to see that I have stuff in my hands, “I bought you breakfast.”

“What? Baby, that’s so sweet.” she smiles as she looks up at me, then she stands on her tiptoes to kiss me again. “Ro is napping right now, but she should be up soon.”

I nod my head as I hand the bag and orange juice to her, “Go eat. I can get her when she’s up.”

“Best man ever,” she smiles, and I pat her behind as she walks past. She turns around and scrunches her eyebrows, “Aren’t you coming with me? She won’t be up for another 15 minutes, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, I’m coming with.” I laugh, and she smiles as she turns around and heads downstairs with me behind her. She sits down on the couch and looks up at me with big curious eyes, and I laugh, “What?”

Y/N shakes her head as she shrugs, then she reaches in for her bagel and sees there’s one for me as well. She hands it to me and sits back on the couch as she begins to pulls pieces off. It’s a little habit that she has which I find adorable--instead of just biting into the bagel like most, she’ll pull off small parts and eat them.

“How’s the shop? Oh, did you water the plants?”

“I did,” I nod as I look at her, “I even put the plant food in it.”

Y/N smiles as she looks at me, “Thank you. They’re getting big, aren’t they?”

“They are. The one has really long vines that are starting to hang down.”

“Ooh, I can cut them off and make a whole new plant.” she says, and I smile as I reach over to wipe away the cream cheese on her lip. “The shop was good though?”

I nod, leaning forward to take a drink of her orange juice, “Yeah, Tony and Katie came in, then Grace came in a little later since her mom had an appointment.”

Y/N hums as she nods, “That’s why she was coming in late. I completely forgot. I wanted to send her and her mom some flowers because she’s starting chemo, I should do that now.”

“Baby,” I put my hand out and stop her from getting up, “Sit down.”

Y/N widens her eyes a little as she sits back down, “What?”

“Just sit down,” I laugh as she looks at me as her eyes grow sad, “I just want to sit with you for a few minutes.”

A smile spreads across her face as she moves closer to me, “You just want me to yourself?”

“Yes!” I laugh as I nod, then I pull her closer to kiss her a few times. I lean back to look at her as she keeps her eyes closed and smiles softly, then she opens her eyes and pecks me quickly before she finishes her bagel. “After Ro’s appointment in a bit, I have somewhere I want to bring you two. I just heard about it the other day, so I wanted to surprise my girls, but I knew you’d think it was weird if I started driving in the opposite direction of home after we leave the doctor.”

Y/N perks up and smiles, “A surprise?”

“Yup.” I nod, then I lean over to kiss her. I look over my shoulder when I hear Bleu whimpering at the top of the stairs to let me know Ronan is awake, then I kiss Y/N again before I get up.

“Give me a hint!” Y/N says as she kneels on the couch, and I look over at her and shake my head before I head upstairs. “Ugh! You’re the worst!”

I laugh as I look at her, “You just said I was the best man ever five minutes ago.”

“Okay, well, you are the best man ever,” she says, smiling as sweet as she can so I’ll give her a hint, but I shake my head and continue walking upstairs.

Pushing the door open to Ronan’s room, I smile and wave at her as she stands up and reaches up for me. I walk over to turn off her noise machine, then I get a new diaper out since she’ll need to be changed.

“Hey, Bug.” I smile as I walk over to get her from her crib, and I hug and kiss her as she stretches out a little. “You’re stinky.”

“She gets that from you.” Y/N says as she walks in, then she smiles and waves at Ronan before I lay her down to change her.

I make noises and faces at Ronan to keep her from getting fussy while I change her diaper, then I quickly put a new one on and look over to see what Y/N is picking for Ronan to wear. She holds up a little onesie that is a pale pink, then she grabs something else, but I don’t know what they’re called.

“Look at these,” Y/N smiles, holding up the outfit for Ronan, “Tess bought it the other day.”

“What are those called?”

Y/N scrunches her face up as she thinks, “Uh, I don’t know. I think my mom always called them bloomers. I just call them ruffle butt shorts.”

I laugh as I look down at Ronan, then I hold her as she stands up in front of me. Y/N pulls the onesie over Ronan’s head and gets her arms through it, then she snaps it closed before she pulls on the little shorts with the ruffles on the butt.

“So pretty!” she smiles as Ronan squeals.

“No bow today?” I ask, and Y/N scoffs as she shakes her head since we both know Ronan will just rip it off. “How was she this morning?”

Y/N grabs out the little sandals for Ronan, then she sets them aside before she grabs her things to pack for the day, “Uh, pretty good actually. After you left this morning, I went back to bed since she was still sleeping, then she finally woke up around…8. She ate, we played, then she went down for her nap. She’s been good. Still drooling quite a bit.”

“How are you?” I ask, and Y/N stands up straight and looks at me. “How are you, mom? Are you still hungry?”

“No.” she shakes her head and smiles as she walks over to me, then she places her hand on the back of my neck and pulls me down to her lips, “How did I get so lucky?”

I laugh as I shake my head, “I ask myself how I got so lucky every day.”

Ronan babbles as Y/N and I look into each other’s eyes, then we look at her and smile when she bounces in my arms.

“Who’s this big guy, huh?” Y/N asks, and Ronan giggles, “Is that your daddy? Your dada?”

A smile spreads across my face when I hear Ronan babbling and saying ‘dada’ over and over, and I smother her little face in kisses. She tilts her head back and giggles loudly when I tickle her, then she looks at her momma and reaches for her.

“Oh, I’ll protect you!” she laughs as she takes her, then she makes a loud chomping noise in the crook of her neck as Ronan giggles loudly. Y/N leans back to look at Ronan as she laughs, then she looks over at me.

“Man, she’s really starting to look like you.” I laugh as I look at them, then I shake my head, “I think she’s momma’s twin lately.”

Y/N smiles as she looks over at Ronan, “It’s the dimple in the right cheek. She still looks just like her daddy. She’s gorgeous.”

“She is,” I nod, then I cup Y/N’s cheek, “So are you, peach. You look beautiful today.”

“It’s makeup and coffee,” she says as we laugh, then she nods, “Lots of makeup.”

I shake my head and lean down to kiss her, “It’s not. You’re just beautiful, baby.”

Y/N leans back and smiles at me, “Thank you, handsome.”

“Now because of this surprise, the only hint I’ll give you is that maybe you should bring a change of clothes for bug.” I say, and Y/N perks up, “It’s an outside surprise.”

“Am I dressed okay?” she asks, looking down at her outfit before she looks up at me.

I nod my head and smile, “Definitely. I just thought you’d want to bring a change of clothes for her in case she gets dirty. I’m gonna need some pictures of my girls, but we can take those right away before she gets dirty.”

Y/N cocks up her eyebrow and smirks, “I’m very curious.”

“You’re gonna love it.” I smile at her, then I leave the room.

__

Ronan’s appointments always make me so nervous, Y/N as well. We both know that Ronan is a happy and healthy little girl, but there’s always that small fear that something could be wrong with her. An underlying illness we don’t know about. It stresses us out.

Y/N is holding Ronan in her lap as best as she can since she’s fighting to be put down, but as soon as she lets go of her, she’ll open every cupboard in here. She scoots her up in her arms as Ronan fusses a little, and I lean over to tickle Ronan’s belly and hopefully calm her down. The door finally opens as Doctor Marlene walks in, and I reach out to shake her hand before she sits down on the chair and places Ronan’s chart in her lap.

“Hi, Ronan.” she smiles as she reaches out to tickle her tummy, and Ronan cries as she squirms, “You can put her down.”

“Are you sure? She’s a handful.” Y/N grimaces, “She’ll get into everything.”

Doctor Marlene laughs as she reaches over and tugs on the cupboards, “Baby proof.”

Y/N lets Ronan off her lap, but she keeps her eye completely fixed on her until I reach over and pat her thigh a little to calm her down.

“Alright,” Doctor Marlene inhales and opens the chart as she sets it on the desk, “Is she eating well?”

“Oh, yeah.” Y/N laughs as we look at each other, “She’s been eating a variety of baby foods, but she still gets formula. She’s drinking from a sippy cup. We’ve even managed to get her to drink from a real cup a few times, we’re very proud.”

Doctor Marlene chuckles, “Oh, that’s always so exciting though. How’s her sleep? She sleeping okay?”

“Yeah,” I nod as Y/N smiles, “She sleeps through the night, maybe once or twice she’ll fuss a little and one of us will go soothe her, but for the most part, she’s doing good. Getting two naps during the day as well.”

“Good, good.” she nods, then she looks at us again, “How’s the poopy diapers? Consistency and color been changing a bit with the introduction of foods?”

I laugh as Y/N looks at me and raises her eyebrows, “Yeah, got a bit of a scare the other day when I changed her and noticed her…poop wasn’t the right color. Y/N had to remind me that we had been feeding Ronan peas for a few days.”

“Hey, we’ve all been there,” Doctor Marlene laughs, and we all look over at Ronan as she toddles around the room, “I see she’s walking really well. When did that start?”

“June 14th,” I say, and Y/N smiles softly when I look at her, “We were sitting in the living room playing, and next thing we knew she was walking over to us after she had crawled away.”

“Hmm, so she’s sitting with no support, pulling herself up, and walking,” Doctor Marlene smiles, then she looks over at Ronan when she says ‘dada’ and walks to me, “And saying ‘dada’.”

Y/N laughs and reaches over to pinch Ronan’s cheek, “Her first word, of course. ‘Mama’ wasn’t far behind though, I have to brag a little.”

Doctor Marlene smiles, then she inhales deeply, “Well, let’s get the worst part over with.”

I sit back and watch as the doctor lifts up Ronan and sets her on the scale, then she quickly jots down on her chart. She looks over her shoulder at Y/N and smiles when she gets up to help. I would walk over to help, but the room is small and I don’t want to crowd around them.

“26 inches.” Y/N laughs, then she looks over at me, “I think she’s gonna be short.”

“Just like her mom.” I smile, and Y/N looks over at me again as she smiles.

Ronan giggles when Y/N picks her up and holds her, then she squeals loudly as Y/N laughs and walks over to sit with me. Doctor Marlene sits back down and smiles as she looks through Ronan’s chart, then she looks up at Ronan and pinches her chunky leg.

“She needs one shot today.” she says, and I nod as I look over at Ronan in Y/N’s lap, “Just one quick little shot, and you’re free to go. She’s usually good with her shots.”

“She is,” Y/N smiles as she kisses Ronan’s cheek, then she hands her to me since I’m closer to the doctor.

I take Ronan and set her in my lap, then I hold her legs a little since she’s kicking them. Doctor Marlene starts to sing and dance a little as she squeezes Ronan’s legs and arms to keep her in a good mood, then she gets the needle ready and smiles at Ronan.

Doctor Marlene sings to distract Ronan, then she smiles and gives her the shot, “Boop!”

Ronan stares at the doctor for a moment with her wide brown eyes, then she kicks her legs and laughs. Y/N leans over to kiss her cheek, then she smiles as she looks up at me.

Doctor Marlene laughs, “Such a good kiddo. You’re all set!”

“Thank you.” Y/N smiles as she gets Ronan dressed.

“Enjoy this weather, it’s gorgeous today.” she says, then she waves at Ronan, “Bye-bye.”

Ronan looks up at the doctor and waves, then she squeals and looks up at Y/N as she pulls her little bloomers back on. She puts Ronan on her hip and turns around to look at me, then she smiles and leans down to kiss me.

“Ready?”

“Yup,” I stand up and hold the door open for my girls, then I smile as they walk out and look at me.

Even though Ronan’s eyes are brown like mine, she looks so much like her mom when I look into her eyes. They both have this curiosity in them, and they both can bring me to my knees. I love them so much, and I couldn’t imagine my life without my girls.

“Now onto my surprise,” I say, and Y/N looks at me and grins as she squints her eyes, still trying her hardest to guess.

__

Both of the girls fell asleep on the drive, but to be fair, it was almost an hour long drive and neither of them got much sleep last night. I almost contemplated just driving back home since they’re so tired, but I know Y/N would probably be upset and feel bad since she’d think she’d ruined my big surprise or something.

I park the car and turn it off before I reach over and gently rub the back of my hand against Y/N’s cheek to wake her up, and I smile when she inhales deeply and opens her eyes a little.

“Oh god, I fell asleep.” she whispers, then she looks over at me and laughs, “That’s embarrassing.”

“You’re tired.” I smile at her as I shrug, “It’s okay.”

Y/N yawns as she sits up, then she pulls down the visor so she can check herself in the mirror. She rotates her neck a little and looks over her shoulder to check on Ronan, then she smiles at me before she looks around to see we’re in a parking lot.

“Oh, our surprise?”

“Yup,” I nod, then I pucker my lips for a kiss. She smiles as she leans over to kiss me, then she cups my face and leans back to look at me. I give her another kiss before we both look back at Ronan as she begins to make noise, then I kiss the palm of Y/N’s hand. “I��ll get her.”

Getting out of the car, I pop the trunk and open the back door to get Ronan out, then I kiss her cheek and bring her to the back so I can change her diaper. Y/N looks around as she stands next to me, and I smile when she stands on her tiptoes to get a look at where we are.

“Nice try,” I laugh, and Y/N scoffs and playfully rolls her eyes. “You only have to wait a few more minutes.”

Y/N points at the stroller, silently asking if we need it, and I nod my head since we probably will. I’ll push it if Ronan ends up wanting to walk, but most likely she’ll get tired from walking after a while. Y/N smiles when I put Ronan in the stroller, then she watches as I grab Ro’s bag and her purse and stuff them into the basket under the stroller.

“Alright…” I smile at Y/N, and I place my hand on her back as we begin to walk. “Have any idea?”

“To be honest…” Y/N laughs as she shakes her head, “No.”

I smile as I lean down to kiss her, then I look around before I move my hand down to her ass and squeeze it. I spank her a few times as we walk through the parking lot, and Y/N shakes her head and laughs quietly.

“You look so good today.” I whisper to her, and she raises her eyebrows and looks up at me. “Maybe mom and dad can have some alone time later?”

“I was really hoping for that.” she smiles, nodding her head.

I place my hand on her back again as we walk up to the gate, and I see Y/N perk up more as I walk over to pay for our tickets. The woman behind the counter leans up to see Ronan in the stroller, then she smiles before she slides two tickets across for me and Y/N.

I give the woman a smile and wave as we walk through the gate, then I turn around and look at Ronan, “You’re free because you’re so little!”

“Thank god…” Y/N laughs, “12 bucks for a toddler is ridiculous!”

Shaking my head, I let out a small laugh as I walk over to Y/N and kiss her. She smiles as she looks at me, then she looks around and perks up when she looks into the distance.

“Is that…”

“500…thousand sunflowers.” I say, Y/N gasps as she looks over at me, “And guess what? We can even pick some to take home. They have seeds too that we can take home and plant.”

Y/N smiles as she looks around, then she points, “There’s even a little barnyard.”

“See why I wanted to bring a change of clothes for bug?” I ask, and she nods her head and laughs, “I want to get some pictures of us all first, then we can change her. I should have brought Bleu. We could take some family pictures here today.”

When Y/N sees the petting zoo with goats, she gasps loudly and grabs my arm, yanking me along with her. I push Ronan’s shoulder, laughing as I try to keep up with my wife.

__

Pressing a kiss to Ronan’s cheek, I rock her back and forth, then I smile when Y/N leans up to kiss her too. She rubs her hand over Ronan’s hair and smiles, then she kisses her again before I lay her down in her crib.

Y/N walks over and stands by the door and smiles when I look at her, then she gestures to the kitchen. I nod my head and look back down at Ronan, then I walk over to turn on her nightlight and noise machine before I close the door behind me a little.

From the top of the stairs, I can see the slightest glimpse of Y/N as she cleans up the mess in the kitchen, so I head down to help her.

She’s been a little more quiet since we got home, and she keeps staring at me and looking away when I look at her. I feel like there might be something weighing on her mind, and I want her to be open and talk with me about it.

“She down?”

“Out like a light.” I laugh, then I reach over to grab the condiments on the counter to put them away. “Are you tired?”

Y/N sighs, “A little, but I feel like I won’t be able to sleep again tonight. She’s been good today and her teeth aren’t bothering her too bad, but I just…don’t think I’ll sleep that well tonight.”

“Are you okay?” I ask as I look at her, and she nods, wiping down the counter with a wet rag. “Baby…”

“I’m okay.” she says as she looks up at me.

I hold her gaze for a moment, then I walk over to put away the clean dishes. I bump into Y/N’s backside when she moves, and I spank her a few times as she quietly laughs.

Usually I’d get some cheeky comment from her, or she’d just bend over the counter so I’d spank her again, but she just smiles and moves past. Very unlike her.

I watch as Y/N stands at the counter for a moment and looks around, probably thinking of what she’s going to clean next, and I walk over and stand behind her. I reach up to move her hair off her shoulder, then I lean down and kiss her neck, hoping like hell she’s going to give me the invitation to take this further. She tilts her head back against my chest and smiles--that’s a yes--and I look down as I move my hands up to her breasts. She’s only wearing a tank top since it was a little warmer in the house when we got home earlier, and I can see she’s not wearing a bra.

Reaching up, I pull the strap of her tank top down to reveal her breast, then I caress it in my hand before I twist and roll her nipple between my finger and thumb. Y/N lets out a small breath as she leans back against my chest, then she looks down and watches as I pull the other strap of her tank top down. I suck and kiss on her neck as she leans back in my arms, then I turn her around and lift her onto the counter.

We maintain eye contact for a moment, then I reach up and pull her shirt off before our lips meet for a kiss. She tugs my shirt up a little, so I stand back and pull it off, then I’m right back to kissing her again. Cupping her face in my hand, I slide my tongue into her mouth and hum when I taste hers, then I pull her shorts off. She kisses my forehead and cheek as I help her get her underwear off, then she lays back and spreads her legs as I dive between them. I immediately dip my tongue deep into her pussy to get a good taste, then I suck on her clit as she squirms a little.

“Shit, yeah, keep doing that.” she whimpers, then she reaches down to tug my hair a little, “Oh, fuck!”

I reach down to pull my pants and boxers off, then I stroke myself as I continue to eat her out. I kiss along her thighs as she sits up and breathes heavily, then she watches as I scoot her closer. She reaches forward and takes me into her hand, stroking me a few times, then she positions me between her legs and looks at me as I slide in deep. My eyes roll shut when I feel her wet and warm for me, and I reach up and kiss her as I slowly thrust my hips.

“Wait…” she whispers to me, then she hops off the counter and leans over. I slide back between her legs and put my hand over her mouth since I know she’s going to moan loudly, and I smile when she does. “Oh, shit.”

“Ah, fuck…” I laugh quietly, “I’m never gonna last.”

Y/N chuckles a little as she looks over her shoulder at me, “I know.”

Placing my hands on her waist, I pull her down onto me harder and faster as we both pant loudly, and she puts her head down and moans against the granite countertop. She clings the side of it as I roll my hips, then she reaches back and places her hand on my stomach.

“Slow down…” she whispers, then she leans up a little, “Let me feel every inch of you.”

I lean over her back as I slowly slide in and out of her wet pussy, then I reach up and slide my finger into her mouth as we both moan. She sucks on my middle finger as I fuck her slowly, then she squeezes her eyes shut and nods for me to pick up the pace. I jerk my hips faster and harder knocking the breath out of her every time, then I lean down and suck on her neck before moving up to the spot behind her ear that always drives her crazy.

“John,” she moans softly, reaching back to place her hand on the back of my neck to pull me closer, then she moans when I begin rubbing circles on her clit, “Keep going, keep fucking me, don’t stop!”

Panting against her shoulder, I grip her sides tighter as she moans, then I let out a small laugh when I feel her rolling her hips to ride out her orgasm and letting out a string of moans, curse words, and my name.

“Oh shit, John, oh fuck…” she moans, then she leans over the counter and looks back at me as I stand up and fuck her harder to bring on my orgasm. She closes her eyes and leans her head against the counter, and I look down to watch as I slide and out of her wet pussy.

“Shit…” I whisper quietly, then I grip her sides tight as I lean over her and groan loudly, spilling inside of her as I squeeze my eyes shut and see colors dancing between them. “Oh, fuck…”

Y/N leans over so she can see me, then she smiles as she tilts her head back to kiss me, “Thank you. I needed that.”

I laugh breathlessly as I nod, “I did too.”

Y/N moves from in front of me and grabs her shirt from the counter and grabs her shorts, then she walks away as I stand there with my pants around my ankles. I watch as she walks upstairs to our room, and I furrow my brow a little by her cold demeanor.

I pull my pants up and grab my shirt, then I head upstairs to see if she’ll talk to me. I watch her as she walks around the bedroom and throws her clothes into the laundry basket, then she opens the drawer and pulls out a nightgown to put on. I slouch a little when she walks into the bathroom to brush her teeth, and I sit down on the bed.

After a few minutes, Y/N comes out of the bathroom and smiles softly as she walks over to get into bed. I raise my eyebrows when she looks up at me, and she furrows her brow and laughs.

“Well…”

“What?” she laughs, grabbing lotion to rub into her hands.

I exhale a little as I pull my jeans off and toss them into the laundry basket along with my shirt, then I walk over to sit on Y/N’s side of the bed.

“What’s going on with you?” I ask as I reach for her hands, “Are you okay? Talk to me.”

Y/N looks up at me and sighs as she closes her eyes, “It’s stupid. Like, it’s seriously the dumbest thing ever. You’re going to laugh over how stupid it is.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you upset.” I say, and Y/N shrugs a little as she nods. “Talk to me.”

Y/N inhales deeply and sits up to take my hands, “I couldn’t sleep last night because I just kept having such bad…nightmares.”

“Like when you were pregnant?”

“Yeah,” she nods as she looks at me, “I’m obviously not pregnant, I’m on birth control again, but…yeah, they were bad nightmares.”

I look down at Y/N’s hand as I rub my thumb over her wedding ring, “Is that why you’ve been staring at me all day?”

“Well, that, and you’re just so handsome!” Y/N laughs as she shrugs, then she rolls her eyes, “It’s so dumb, I don’t even want to say it but I know you’ll be upset if I don’t say it--just like I would be if the roles were reversed.”

“Right…”

Y/N takes a deep breath and leans back against the headboard, “I had a few dreams last night, and one was like…we were together, but we lived in an apartment and it was late at night. You came home at like, 3 in the morning with pizza, and you were…wearing a suit, and you were sweaty and bloody. You came home, we ate, went to bed, and that was it. It was just us in this little one bedroom apartment in NYC. We had nothing. Almost like we moved around a lot or something, like we couldn’t ever stay in one place. It wasn’t scary, but it was kind of like a glimpse of what our life would be like had we gone in a different direction. I just woke up and felt…sad and empty, and I can’t explain why.”

“You were sad because that’s a terrible life. Who the hell would want that life?” I laugh, and Y/N shrugs as she looks at me, “That’s certainly not a life that I would want for me or for you, especially not for you. The moment I realized how important you were to me, which was fairly quickly, that was the moment I realized that that old life wasn’t the one I wanted anymore. I want this life. I want to sit on the couch and do nothing with you, which we’re very good at. I want to go swimming with my girls, go see beautiful flowers, and surprise my babies with things. I want to raise my children with the love of my life, and I can’t really do that when I have a gun in my hand and I’m constantly leaving home, now can I?”

Y/N bites her cheek as she nods, “Right.”

“I also think you were sad because in this nightmare of yours, what’s the one thing we didn’t have that we can’t live without?” I say, and she looks at me, furrowing her brow, “Ronan Charlotte.”

She laughs as she nods her head, “God, I can’t imagine our life without her, John. She is the most precious thing to me. You and her are so fucking important to me. If I lost you or her--”

“I’m not leaving,” I whisper as I cup her face, and she nods again. “Was that your only nightmare?”

“I had another one where you cheated on me with someone at the shop.” she says quickly, and I furrow my brow and laugh. “I know! I know how stupid it is. I can’t control my brain when I’m asleep, Jonathan!”

I shake my head as I lean over to kiss her a few times, “I love you, but sometimes your brain is…”

“Dumb! I know!” she laughs, then she shakes her head and looks at me, “I know it won’t happen, so don’t even prepare your speech.”

Putting my hands up in defense, I laugh, “Okay, fine.”

“It isn’t anything you do or don’t do, okay?” she says, and I nod. “It’s not our relationship, it’s not how you treat me, it’s not you at all. I promise. It’s...it’s me. It’s my past, and it’s not fair to you. It’s not fair that I can’t get those thoughts out of my head and you end up thinking you’re not doing a good job at loving me. I promise you, John, I know that you love me, and I know that you love the life that we have. I know you’re not going to stray or find someone else.”

I reach over and wipe away the tear on her cheek, “There is no one else. There’s only you. Only you are on my radar.”

Y/N smiles softly as she leans into the palm of my head, “It’s unfair to you because you say shit like that.”

“I’d never leave.” I whisper as I move closer to her, “I’m not leaving. No matter what. Not unless you scream in my face that you hate me.”

“I would never do that,” Y/N sniffles as she leans up to cup my face and kiss me, “I love you more than I can put into words.”

I wrap my arms around Y/N and hug her tight, then I lean back and look at her, “I know that this is all because of your ex. I know that. Every now and again, you worry about things that aren’t going to happen because someone has made you paranoid and made you feel like you don’t deserve the life that we have. I’m the same way. For a different reason. But I’m the same way.”

“I don’t want you to get sick of me when I ask for a little reassurance,” she whispers holding my gaze, “Because I should know how you feel, but sometimes I need more reassurance than usual and you’re always there to give it to me, but I don’t want you to get sick of it.”

I let out a small laugh, “You think I’m going to get sick of telling you how much I love you and adore you? We’ve been together for almost three years, and I tell you every day. I will never get sick of it. I love telling you those things because I love you and I want to make you happy. You do the same for me. When I’m getting in my head about things, you pull me back to where I need to be: here.”

“I feel safe and secure with you, which is why I turn to you when I need a little reassurance. I have some self-doubt, I know you do too, and it bottles up over time no matter how well we love one another.” she says, and I nod my head in agreement. “And when it gets too overwhelming for me to handle, it spills over, and that’s when I come to you. Thank you for always being so patient and understanding, I know it can be difficult.”

“Loving you has never been difficult--nothing about you is difficult.” I smile at her, and she tilts her head a little as she tears up, “I was made to love you. I was wired perfectly to love you. And the way your heart was perfectly crafted to be so loving and understanding of me, it’s obvious that you were made to love me too.”

Y/N looks up at me with tears in her eyes, and they spill out when she blinks. She sits up and kneels on the bed as we kiss, then she pulls me down on top of her. She sniffles a little as I hover just above her lips, and she smiles a little as she nods.

“I love you.” I whisper to her, watching a tear slide down her cheek, “I love you, and that will never change.”

“I love you too.” she whispers back, then she lifts her nightgown a little as I pull my cock free from my boxers. She gasps as I slide between her legs, then she clings to me, her body shaking a little from the pressure of me between her legs, “I love you.”

I smooth Y/N’s hair away from her face as I hold her gaze, then I lean down to kiss her softly as I roll my hips, “The love of my life.”

“Love of my life,” she whispers, then she closes her eyes and clings to me as I lean down to make love to her.

__

As I walk past the laundry room, I see Ronan sitting at Y/N’s feet as she puts in a load of dirty clothes. Ronan pulls herself up on Y/N’s leg and squeals when she turns around and sees me kneeling down to take her. She walks over to me as she wobbles a little, then she reaches up. I pick her up and toss her in the air, then I kiss her cheek and walk over to kiss Y/N.

“This is the last load, and we’re officially done with laundry.” she says as she looks over to kiss me, “I think we’ve washed everything in the house.”

I laugh, nodding my head, “I did about 5 loads of clothes yesterday. I didn’t realize we had so many clothes.”

“Imagine what it’ll be like with another baby,” she laughs, then she leans over and tickles Ronan’s tummy as she talks in her mom-voice, “Lots of socks and poopy pants, and that’s just because of your dad!”

“Hey,” I laugh as she looks up at me, “I’ll have you know, I haven’t pooped my pants in weeks!”

Y/N laughs as she nods, “Ah, the potty training paid off, Ro!”

I reach out for Y/N’s hand after she shuts the washing machine and turns it on, then I walk with my girls to the living room. I set Ronan down on the floor near her toys, then I sit down on the couch with Y/N and wrap my arm around her shoulder to hold her.

“Thanks for last night,” she whispers, and I smile as I lean down to kiss her. “I slept really well and didn’t have any nightmares.”

“Good,” I smile, and she leans closer to me to rest her head on my shoulder, “I should run to the store in a bit, huh?”

Y/N looks up at me and nods, “My parents are coming around 5, and who knows when Tess will show up.”

“I’ll go in a bit then. I got a few hours to just relax with my girls. Oh, wait…” I lean down to kiss her again, then I get up to grab the bag from the kitchen, “I forgot that I got you girls something yesterday.”

“Ro…” Y/N calls out and claps her hands to get Ronan to come over to her, and she pulls herself up and toddles over.

I hand the bag to Y/N and smile as she leans down and opens it with Ronan, then I laugh when Ronan grabs out the pig stuffed animal and waves it around in the air as she squeals.

“Do you like it?” I ask, and Ronan immediately chews on the ear, “Yup, figured it would be in her mouth within two minutes.”

“Babies.” Y/N laughs, then she looks down at the bag when I gesture to it. She opens the bag again and reaches in for a journal that I saw and thought she’d like. Y/N looks up at me and smiles, “This is beautiful.”

I smile as I lean over to look at it, “It just came in yesterday, same with the little pig, but I saw them and thought my girls deserved a little gift. Ro has her stuffed pig now, and you can use this journal for whatever you want.”

“How about some sweet love notes between me and my husband?” she asks, and I nod my head and smile at her. “We already filled up the other one.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” I smile, then I lean over to kiss her.

Ronan walks over to us with her pig and puts in on my leg, then she reaches up. I pick her up and set her between Y/N and I, and she smiles, drool covering her chin.

“Think she’ll be up all night?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Y/N laughs, then she looks at me, “But we’re Team Wick and we can handle it, can’t we?”

I reach over and tousle her hair, “Of course we can. We’re a team.”

“As long as I got you…”

“You always got me,” I whisper to her, and she smiles, “And you always have Ro too. We’re not going anywhere.”

Y/N smiles as she looks at me, then she leans over and kisses me, “And neither am I.”

__

tagslist: @sakurachan-9​​ @ruby-octo​ @angie-20000 @beingnerdyissupercool​ @star017​ @perrysglasses​ @volcasaurus

is this the taglist? idk. let me know if u want to be added or removed!!

[cacoetheswriting]

library hours [reimagined] - spencer reid

warnings: age gap, professor / student, maybe a swear word or two, a lil tension, but mainly a fluffy first interaction word count: 1.7k summary: a late night at the university library leads to reader meeting a certain handsome professor.

a/n: this is a reimagined / rewritten version of this fic. for those interested, the original centres around baby!spencer. both fics start off pretty much the same, what differs is the interaction between spencer and reader.

-

There was something you always enjoyed about the going to the library.

Perhaps it was the way every single person that walked through the threshold had a purpose. A mission to complete. Perhaps it was the quiet. The solace you felt sitting alone in a corner researching various topics, for class and for recreational purposes.

The university library had quickly become your second home. A location you frequented more than your own dorm room. It wasn’t always to study, no. You people watched. Doodled. Even napped there from time to time. The place brought you peace, and by the time you senior year rolled around, you saw the librarians more than your college friends.

The university library was also the place where you first met a certain handsome professor, doctor - which in time became the main reason why you liked it so much.

Lights were slowly being turned off section by section. A vacuum came to life in one of the aisles. People started to scramble from their seats - shoving their things into their backpacks, throwing out empty coffee cups into the overflowing bins, checking out books they might still use that evening.

All signs indicating it was time to go.

Dolly, one of the librarians, ushered towards you. Her jacket draped over her shoulders, her bag in hand. She gave you the usual spiel of how you can stay until the janitor is finished cleaning, to which you politely nodded along. She wished you a pleasant night, and with a “see you tomorrow” she hurried out the door.

Once she was out of sight, you groaned under your breath and ran your fingers through your hair. You had an assignment due tomorrow, one you started hours ago and only managed to formulate three total sentences. Your gut was telling you there was no way you were going to finish now, especially since you had about thirty minutes until you would have to leave.

Leaning back in your chair, you fluttered your eyes closed in an attempt to collect your thoughts. The tranquil feeling didn’t last long however, as you were abruptly brought back to reality by someone loudly clearing their throat. You immediately sat back up and quickly scanned the space for the source of the interruption.

A tall brunette man stood a few tables away, his hands slowly sliding into the pockets of his pants. He was definitely older, by how much you couldn't quite tell. But, you definitely took notice of how handsome he was.

“The library is closed for the night.” He stated, the tone of his voice calm yet stern.

“I have permission to be here.” You retorted with as much confidence as you could muster, but the mysterious man didn't seem impressed with your answer. With an arched brow, he took a firm step in your direction.

“From who?” He challenged, as if he was waiting to catch you in a lie.

You folded your arms across your chest, unwilling to give in to whatever game he was playing. “Dolly, the librarian. I could call her if you don't believe me?”

The brunette didn’t respond. Instead, his lips twirled slightly upwards into a sly smirk and with the way he was now looking at you, you could feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You only hoped he didn't see the faint pink blush now present on your facial features.

“May I?” The man asked after a brief moment of silence, pointing to to the chair beside yours. You found yourself nodding, before quickly turning your attention away from him, and back to the book in front of you.

While he made himself comfortable, his leg brushed against yours. The sudden close contact sent a jolt down your spine and you shivered. A small act he definitely noticed.

“You’re not some sort of killer, are you? You’re not here to murder me?” You asked, tilting your head to once again look at the man. Shaking his head, he let out a wholehearted chuckle.

“No, I’m definitely not a murder.” He reassured.

“Definitely? That's over selling it, don't you think? It’s exactly the kind of thing a murder would say.” You teased in response, gaining a little bit of your courage back. He didn't reply. The smirk on his face widened just a little and he eyed you silently, as if you were a treasure map he was desperate to solve.

The two of you stared at one another for what felt like eternity. There was something amicable about the seconds that passed as you looked into his hazel eyes. Something harmonious. Friendly. Strong.

When you finally broke contact and proceeded to return to working on your assignment, you could still feel his gaze burning into the side of your head. In any other situation, with any other stranger, the feeling would have made you uncomfortable. Scared even. But there was something quite thrilling about the mysterious brunette sitting beside you.

“I’m a profiler.” He said after another moment of comfortable silence. “I work for the FBI as part of their Behavioral Analysis Unit.” He added as you glanced up at him from your notes, intrigue gracing your facial features. The statement was to make you feel safer in his presence - not that it was needed since you already felt strangely guarded around him.

You smiled, dropping your pen and shifting in your chair to face him completely. “So, agent, what are you doing at a university library on a Thursday night? Did the bad guys take a break?”

“Doctor.” He calmly corrected.

“What?”

“It’s doctor, not agent.” He said, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. “I have PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering.”

The smug look on his face earned him a playful eye roll. “You don’t happen to have a PhD in History under your belt, do you, doctor? Because that would be very helpful right about now.”

“No, but I do have an eidetic memory and can read twenty-thousand words per minute.” He declared and you gaped at him in disbelief, mouth parting ever so slightly in shock.

Great, you thought, as if he wasn't intimidating enough.

“You could have just said you were a superhero.” You joked before leaning in towards him ever so slightly. The faint whiff of his cologne caught you off a little off guard, and you took a mental note to never again settle for someone that only used body spray. “Don’t worry, I’m really good with secrets. I won’t tell anyone.” You whispered and gently pressed your index finger to your lips.

The comment caused the handsome doctor to throw his head back in a whole-hearted laugh. He placed a hand on his stomach as you slowly shifted back to your previous position, chewing down on the inside of your cheek down to stop yourself from commenting on how good he looked.

“Am I going to get an answer to my previous question?” You asked once the laughter died down, your assignment long forgotten.

“I teach here.”

The statement earned him another eye roll. “Seriously? Is there anything you don't or can't do?”

It was his turn to lean in. He rested his elbows on his knees and intertwined his fingers together, his hazel eyes never leaving yours. The air hitched in your lungs at his proximity. You felt as if every single cell in your body was shaking.

“Well, us superheroes, we like to stay busy.” He whispered, his cool minty breath hitting you in the process, sending a shiver down your spine.

You cleared your throat, a timid smile appearing on your face. “There uhm, there’s this diner not far from here. It’s twenty-four hours meaning they won’t kick us out. Would you like to come with me? We can have coffee?”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he moved back in his seat and ran a hand through his already ruffled hair. You bit down on your bottom lip, wondering what was going through his mind. Wondering if perhaps you had overstepped some sort of boundary since he was a professor and you were a student.

But, it was just coffee. Nothing more. That wasn't so bad... Right?

“Coffee sounds nice.” He responded with a smile, after what felt like forever.

Outside, there wasn’t a cloud in the night sky making the million stars shine all that brighter. They looked like perfect sugar granules spilled on a dark surface, accompanied by the glowing moonlight.

The breathtaking sight was accompanied by street lamps. They illuminated the path while you walked side by side, almost in sync. Shoulders faintly brushing against one another.

“How long have you been a profiler?” You asked, looking ahead. The wind blew lightly through your hair causing your brunette companion to turn his head and observe you quietly. A smile crept up on his lips.

“I joined when I was twenty-two.” He answered. You glanced up at him for a brief moment - that wasn't much younger than you now. The look in his eyes suggested he knew that’s what you were thinking.

“Do you like it? Or do you prefer teaching?”

He licked his lips, thinking. As he furrowed his brows together, you noticed the unobtrusive age lines defining his handsome features. Each individual crease telling a different story, and you found yourself hoping you would one day be lucky enough to hear them.

“Every job has its pros and cons.” The brunette man stated eventually, lightly shrugging his shoulders.

You couldn't help but let out a soft giggle at his answer. “Okay professor, now you just sound conventional.”

He chuckled, his hands sliding into the front pockets of his pants. “I’ve been called many things in my life, miss. Conventional was never one of them.”

“It’s Y/N. My name, uhm, my name is Y/N.”

You both stopped once you introduced yourself, simultaneously turning in your spots, so that you were facing each other completely.

“Y/N...” He tested your name on his tongue, and a smile embellished your features because for some reason it sounded incredibly striking coming out of his lips.

“It suits you.” He retorted and the blood rushed to your face. Now, he definitely noticed the blush, you thought. He didn’t comment on it however. Instead, he proceeded to introduce himself, “My name is Spencer. Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N.”

-

masterlist

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​​, @averyhotchner, @wowitsel, @elldell1204, @hey-there-angels, @reidabookforonce, @willowrose99

[elizabeethan]

Spaces Between Us- 1/12

The hardships of real life separated them six years ago, and Emma has been struggling to put that fact behind her ever since. But then, only after she’s convinced herself that she’s moved on and that her new life is enough, Killian Jones comes back.

A Captain Swan Modern AU

A/N: first, the chapter count is a big fat probably, definitely not definite! I’m  really really excited to share this story! i’ve got four chapter pre-written so far, so i’m planning on posting on a consistent weekly basis. 

More tags will apply to later chapters and i’ll put warnings where they're necessary, but if you have any concerns or questions feel free to message me!

Thank you, as usual, to my beta and friend @the-darkdragonfly, and to @donteattheappleshook and @xhookswenchx for listening to my ramblings and helping me figure out the plot to this <3

(also bonus points if you can guess what the title is based on :) it’s a hint)

This story will be rated M

This chapter: ~3200 words

Read on Ao3

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~~~~

She wakes before the sun as she does most mornings, with a start and a jump as she springs her head from her pillow and clutches her hand to her pounding chest. Glancing to her right, she sees her still sleeping husband and breathes a sigh of relief, letting her shoulders sag and her eyes flutter shut slightly. He’s fast asleep, just like he is each time she has one of her horrifying nightmares, never noticing her fearful thrashing. Rolling her eyes, she removes the blankets and lets her bare feet hit the hardwood floor and stands to make her way to the bathroom. After her shower, Emma dresses silently, applies minimal makeup, and sneaks out of their bedroom, still successful in not disturbing her husband. 

 Her son is already on the couch downstairs waiting for her, of course. If there’s one thing the two of them are equally bad at, it’s sleeping. She smiles when she sees him curled up with his picture book, his orange tabby, Abby, purring away beside him. “Morning, bub,” she greets once she’s downstairs, and he grins up at her happily. 

 “Hi, mommy.” 

 Crossing the room to the couch, she leans down and presses a kiss to his cheek and asks, “do you want some breakfast? We’ve got to get you ready for the library soon.” 

 “Is dad coming?”

She shakes her head. “No, bub. Dad has to work today, so it’s just you and mommy. I’m sorry.”

 “Okay!” he says happily, jumping from the couch and disturbing Abby. “Me and mommy day!”

 She giggles softly and grins, following as he bounds for the kitchen and trying to ignore the ache in her chest that accompanies his complete lack of concern over his father being absent for something he enjoys, again. 

“What do you want for breakfast, bub? Eggs?”

 “Eggies!” he calls, crawling up onto his dining chair. “Scrambied.” 

 “Scrambled,” she corrects gently. “With cheese?”

 “Yes! Cheese please!”

 “Very good manners, Henry,” she praises happily as she takes out a bowl, a whisk, and a pan before heading towards the fridge. “Aren’t you going to help me crack the eggs?” 

 His eyes widen and he drops his jaw dramatically, jumping off the chair with enthusiasm and running towards her. “I can crack the eggies?!”

 She smiles down at him, taken by his excitement and his refusal to say real words, and says, “yes, my love.” 

 Choking on her words, she wants to kick herself. Six year and she still finds herself using his stupid phrasing. It sends a jolt of discomfort and a twinge of longing pain through her entire being, the ability to remember small details at the most inopportune times having always haunted her. It tells her how she feels. It tells her she’ll never forget. It tells her how she’ll never feel again. 

 Her husband grumbles as he enters the kitchen, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl and grabbing Emma’s ass in full view of her son, which makes her stiffen and glare ahead out the window, grinding her teeth. “Morning,” he says. 

 “Do you have to do that, Walsh?” she asks quietly through clenched teeth. 

 She doesn’t need to be facing him to know that he rolls his eyes. 

 Taking a deep, grounding breath in, she bends towards Henry and scoops him up easily, placing him on the counter and handing him an egg. “Remember how I showed you?” 

 “What are you doing, teaching him to cook?” Walsh asks in an incredulous tone. 

 “I don’t know, giving him life skills? Just tap gently against the counter, bub,” she instructs, and he does just that. Well, almost that. 

 He smashes the egg against the counter and she quickly helps him to drag it over the bowl, splitting it open messily and letting the yoke fall in. “I did it!”

 “No shells; excellent job!” 

 “Dad, look!” 

 Walsh makes no effort to turn from his damn phone, instead nodding once and grunting in false acknowledgment. 

 He cracks another egg, this time getting a bit of shell in the bowl but able to fish it out with help, and Emma begins beating them with just a bit too much force. “What exactly are we doing today?” she asks. 

 “Swearing in ceremony. The new sheriff starts.”

 She nods. The new sheriff was appointed by the state, so no one but Walsh knows who they are or what their deal is. Why they’re in Storybrooke to begin with. What kind of town they think they’re going to be protecting and serving. It shouldn’t be as exciting as it is, greeting a new citizen, but Storybrooke is a sleepy little town with very little excitement. 

 She has no idea how she got here. 

 “That’s why you can’t come to the library, dad?” Henry asks sadly, and his father nods without making eye contact. 

 “Yeah,” he confirms. “I have important work to do.”

 Emma rolls her eyes, then smiles softly at Henry and says, “it’s alright. It’s just Henry and mommy day, remember?”

 His face lights up again and he nods, grabbing for the cheese and stealing a slice for himself. She glares at him playfully and he giggles, squirming to the edge of the counter before she assists him down and he runs for the living room. “Food in the kitchen!” Emma calls after him. Walsh looks up from his phone for a moment, then straight back down. 

 Henry returns quickly, holding a small piece of cheese down towards the floor and taunting poor Abby with it as she chases after him. “She wants some!”

 “Henry, we don’t give Abby human food, remember? Why don’t you eat your cheese and give her some of her food?”

 He nods, gobbling his snack and then tossing a small piece onto the floor for the cat when he thinks she’s stopped paying attention. God dammit. 

 “Hey, dress nice today,” Walsh commands from behind his emails. “After the library, come to the town hall. There’ll be photo ops for the paper.”

 “Okay,” she mumbles. 

 “Make sure he doesn’t make a mess of himself.”

 She can’t respond with words without shouting, so she stays quiet. God forbid a child have a little fun and get a little dirty. “Henry, come get your breakfast. Did you feed Abby?”

 “Okay!”

 “Did you?”

 “Coming!”

 She signs and rolls her eyes, plating his eggies and tossing the pan into the sink too loudly before feeding the cat and heading upstairs, hoping her child’s father can watch him for the five minutes it will take for her to pick out a newspaper-worthy outfit for the two of them. 

 ~~~~

 “There it is!” Henry calls as he runs into the children’s section of the library, dodging other kids and parents and beelining towards his favorite. “Mommy! Come on!”

 She apologizes to the people he bumped into and finds him with his book already open to his favorite page. “Henry,” she says seriously. “Bub, you’ve got to slow down. You ran into some people and you have to be careful.”

 “Sorry,” he says, not looking up from the dog in the illustration. 

 She sighs and sits beside him, nudging him over and taking a spot on the oversized bean bag chair. “What is Mudge getting up to today?” she asks him, using the skills Belle taught her to get him to engage with the words and the pictures. 

 He’s quiet for a while, pointing out details to her and trying his hand at a few words. He’s starting to get good at reading since starting kindergarten, and she couldn’t be prouder when he sounds out family without much help, beaming at him and stroking her fingers through his chestnut hair. 

 “Mommy?” he asks after taking in an illustration of Henry and Mudge going up a hill. She hums in response to urge him to go on and he asks, “why doesn’t dad like to read with me?” 

 She can feel her heart plunging to her stomach, dropping like an anvil and sending a cold sweat across her body. Walsh has always been distant. When they first met, he seemed so sweet, and when he proposed as soon as they found out she was pregnant, she thought she had hit the jackpot. But as soon as their son was born, she saw a change in him. He became a different person, never around, never helping much, never showing either of them any affection. She blamed it on his new role as the Mayor of Storybrooke; he couldn’t have had a scandalous extramarital pregnancy on his docket and being a family man helped his chances for election. But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to know that the man she’s stuck spending the rest of her life with isn’t shy about how little he regards her. 

 She can deal with a lack of love from her husband. What she can’t deal with is his lack of love for his son.

 Through her anger, she responds calmly, telling Henry, “dad’s just so busy, bub. He has an important job and it’s hard for him to focus on other things sometimes, because he’s so tired.” 

 Henry nods softly and turns the page. “So he doesn’t like me?” 

 The tears that spring to her eyes are instant and unstoppable, and she’s grateful that they're sitting side by side so that he can’t see her reaction. Clearing her throat, she says, “no, Henry, of course he does. I think sometimes he’s just… stressed.”

 “You’re stressed, but you love me,” he points out. 

 With a gulp, she says, “and I always will, more than anything. But your dad… he… Well, he just isn’t the type of person to say that like mommy is. That’s why I say it so much,” she smiles. 

 Her son looks up at her and smiles, his enigmatic gray eyes shining despite the sunlight not reaching this secluded back corner of the library. “I love you, mommy,” he tells her, and he gives her a hug that makes her feel more love than she’s ever felt with her husband. 

 She’s always been able to compartmentalize the fact that her husband doesn’t love her. That he never once told her that he does. That he married her out of obligation after knocking her up. But she can’t ignore the fact that he shows no love for their son, either. 

 What’s worse, is that he’s noticed. 

 ~~~~

 The town hall is nothing special, the cinderblock walls and the tile floors enough to keep the cold, fall air inside and make Emma shiver when she takes her coat off. Her husband, miserable as he is, gives her a quick smile and a curt nod that tells her she’s only welcome here because of the cameras and their need to portray a happy, loving family. It’s true, he’s always provided for them and made sure that they want for nothing, but it’s limited only to basic needs and material things. 

 “Hi,” he greets quickly, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek as a camera flashes. She forces herself to smile. “Hi, son.” 

 Henry grunts up at his father, not making eye contact and not letting go of Emma’s hand. “Hi,” he mumbles. 

 Emma knows, as much as she hates to admit it, that Henry should give his dad a hug so that Sydney Glass can snap a photo of the wholesome moment. But after their conversation earlier, she isn’t inclined to make him. So, she bends at the knees and gives him a smile, asking, “bub, do you want to give your dad a hug hello?” 

 He shrugs, looking down at his feet, and reluctantly reaches for Walsh. He laughs happily as he picks Henry up, giving him a squeeze and successfully tricking the few townsfolk here into believing his show. “How was the library, buddy?” 

 Henry says nothing in return, shrugging and then squirming until Walsh puts him down. He runs back to Emma and takes her hand again, holding on tight, and she paints on a smile and runs her fingers through his hair. “Let’s find a seat, Henry,” she suggests. 

 “There's seats here for you,” Walsh tells her, gesturing for the first row where there are three folding chairs, each with a placard on them. Mayor Walsh Oswald is first, with Mrs. Walsh Oswald to the right and Mr. Henry Oswald in the center of the two. 

 Emma takes a seat and has Henry do the same, and after a few more handshakes and photo ops, Walsh sits as well and the ceremony begins. Sydney Glass continues to snap pictures of the crows and of the stage, until the lights dim and the state’s police chief walks on stage. 

 A speech is made, as if this event is anything more than mundane, and then the mayor is called on stage to complete the induction of the town’s new sheriff. Walsh graces the stage excitedly, earning applause from the small crowd as he waves, and takes the microphone. He says a few words about the town’s safety being the number one priority, and assures everyone that the state police chief surely couldn't have made a better decision when he hired their new sheriff. 

 And then he calls him onto the stage. 

 And Emma’s world goes dark. 

 Killian Jones. 

 Her eyes must be three times their normal size as he walks onto the stage, and she’s grateful for the dramatic lights because they mean he likely can’t see her. But she can see him. 

 For the first time in six years, she can see him. 

 Her breathing quickens and her vision feels blurry, and she realizes that in her haste to get ready this morning, she had barely anything but coffee. She takes a deep breath and clings to the seat of her folding chair with white knuckles, gnawing on her bottom lip until it bleeds as she watches the one that got away place his hand on the bible and repeat a vow of servitude to her husband. She wants to die. 

 “Mommy?” Henry whispers in the darkness. “Are you okay?” 

 She swallows against her bone dry throat and nods, giving him a shaky smile, which only serves to worry him some more, likely due to her sudden paleness. “Yes,” she whispers. “Hush, bub. It’s almost done.” 

 The heart in her chest, the one she gave away to the man on the stage years ago, slams against her ribs almost painfully, until Walsh announces the new sheriff and the crowd begins to cheer. Through panting breaths, she claps, and then grabs Henry’s hand and pulls him as subtly as she can towards the exit and into the chilly November air. “Where are we going?” he asks in confusion. 

 “Mommy just needs some air,” she explains, gulping in a breath as she throws herself through the double doors. 

 She squats down and presses her back to the brick wall, burying her face in her hands and trying to steady her breathing before she feels Henry's small hand on her head. He does what she always does to him when he’s upset and begins scratching his fingers against her scalp, and the thoughtful notion brings tears to her eyes. “It’s okay, mommy,” he consoles, and she’s sure he has no idea what’s going on, although he shows her endless compassion either way. She wonders how she got so lucky with such a thoughtful son when he was basically doomed by genetics. 

 “I’m sorry, bub,” she says softly. “I’m fine, really.” 

 She hears the doors open to her right and assumes the ceremony must be over, so she turns her head away from the crowd. She hears someone ask Henry if he’s alright and starts wiping at her tears, intent on interrupting the exchange, but when Henry says, “my mommy is sick,” she laughs and shakes her head. 

 “Shall we get her some help, lad?” he asks, and Emma’s certain that if she had eaten breakfast, she would lose it. 

 “I don’t need help,” she mumbles, breathing heavily and hiding her face in her hands. 

 “It’s no problem,” he insists. Then he makes a joke, his tone light and flirty and exactly like she remembers it. “I don't know if you noticed, but I'm here to protect and serve.” 

 It’s impossible for her to hold in a soft chuckle, cut off by a surprising and breathless sob, and she can’t help but to look up at him. She watches as his jaw drops and his eyes widen; he falters backwards as he takes in the sight of her, denial and shock ever present on his face. He looks like he wants to say something, but words die on his lips and he remains still before he snaps his mouth shut. 

 “Aren’t you gonna help my mom?” Henry asks in disgust, staring up at Killian in a way that makes Emma want to throw up. She never did think that these two worlds would collide, as much as she may have wanted them to. 

 He hasn’t broken his gaze from her until he looks at her son and gulps before staring back down at her. “Uh, aye,” he says to Henry. “Do you need some help, miss?” 

 Without waiting for her answer, he offers her his hand and she takes it. There’s a shock that rushes through her entire body at the feeling of his skin touching hers, and it feels like she’s coming home and losing her sanity all at once. The pains in her chest are overwhelming and she can feel more tears stinging her eyes as he pulls her up from the ground. She nearly topples into his chest once she’s finally standing, because she’s so unsteady that her legs feel like they’re made of the noodles Henry likes in his soup, and he catches her before she can stumble. 

 He asks, “alright?” with such soft concern that she thinks she would smoothe out his brow and kiss him if not for Henry standing beside them. 

 She’s about to answer before she hears, “sheriff,” coming from her husband to her right. Her husband. Right. 

 They spring apart and she looks down at Henry, who is staring up at her with his brows drawn close together and his lips set in a straight, thin line. She gives him a small smile before looking at Walsh and blinking rapidly. “Hi, honey,” she greets. “I just met the sheriff; he was just helping me up. What a great addition to the town.” 

 Walsh glares at her with a look on his face that tells her she’ll be hearing about this later and then turns to Killian and offers his hand. “I look forward to meeting with you, Mr. Jones,” he says as they shake hands stiffly. 

 “Pleasure,” he responds. “It was nice to meet you and your family. I’ll see you next week.” 

 Her husband places a stiff hand on her back, calling for Henry to follow them without bothering to make sure that he actually is, before hissing, “let’s go,” into her ear. 

 Her heart races for an entirely different reason than it had when she saw Killian Jones. 

~~~~

~~~~

[carewyncromwell]

“We were dreamers not so long ago, But one by one, we all had to grow up. When it seems the magic’s slipped away, We find it all again on Christmas Day...”

~“Believe,” by Josh Groban

x~x~x~x

The Ravenclaw VS Hufflepuff match was one for the ages. With a final score of 320-10, it was one of the most decisive matches in Hogwarts history, let alone one of Ravenclaw house’s greatest triumphs -- and all of it was because of the combined efforts of Seeker Cho Chang and Ravenclaw’s Chasers, led by their Star Player Robert Bellamy. It put Ravenclaw well on its way to winning the Quidditch Cup for a second time, and it also made Robert once again the talk of Ravenclaw house. People latched onto the idea of him using echolocation to signal to his fellow Chasers where he was on the pitch and began to say he could fly faster than any bat, whether a real one or one from Ballycastle. 

And yet, despite all of the praise and fawning he received, just as Cecelia said, Robert shrugged all of it off. 

“All of us train more than just our eyes,” he said with a shrug. “And besides, signaling would’ve meant nothing if Roger and Randolph hadn’t been good enough Chasers to toss the Quaffle to me blindly -- and if Roger hadn’t been a good enough Captain to lead our team, to begin with. Not to mention Cho catching the Snitch in the middle of that fog -- that’s infinitely harder than anything we did...”

Atticus @cursebreakerfarrier​​​​ couldn’t quite understand how Robert could be so determined not to accept praise for his abilities when it was so clearly warranted...but even so, he found himself smiling every time he heard him respond with such modesty. For as flippant, rebellious, and devil-may-care as Robert was, he wasn’t full of himself. It was a rather endearing quality. 

When December arrived, the student body got into a predictable tizzy about the upcoming holidays. Atticus, as always, found himself grumpier than usual due to the noise. He’d never really liked Christmas even as a kid, and at Hogwarts the season only served to make him more surly. Atticus recalled, however, that Robert was one of those people who got obnoxious around Christmas -- it had always irritated him before, whenever Robert would sing Christmas carols loudly at the top of his lungs while helping decorate the Ravenclaw common room. And this year was no exception. The Star Chaser helped smuggle a tree up to Ravenclaw Tower, hung garlands and clusters of holly all over the Ravenclaw commonroom, and greeted and said goodbye to absolutely everybody with “Happy Christmas,” and on the morning of December 8th, the very day he no longer had to dress all neatly like Atticus, he pulled out his old red-felt Santa hat and wore it every single day for the rest of term.

Atticus was frankly done, and the holiday break hadn’t even started yet. 

“Aw, come on, Lestrange!” said Robert one day after Potions, giving the other boy a light punch to the shoulder. “Lighten up -- it’s Christmas!”

“So you keep reminding me,” Atticus said dully. He tried to bury his nose in his copy of Moste Potente Potions, but Robert wouldn’t drop the line of conversation. 

“Well, I wouldn’t keep reminding you if you cheered up a little,” he said with a grin. “Do you always have to be such a Scrooge around this time of year?”

“Do you always have to be so happy about it?” Atticus shot back. “...What’s a ‘Scrooge’ anyway?”

“A character from A Christmas Carol,” Ceci explained with a small, amused smile. “It’s a Muggle book -- it’s a lovely one too: you’d like it, Atticus...”

“Better have Rob read it aloud for you, though,” said Barty with a big grin. “No one reads it like Rob.”

“A Christmas Carol is a masterpiece of literature -- all I do is treat it accordingly,” Robert said offhandedly. He shot Atticus a wry smile over his shoulder. “Though I suppose if it’d help you actually get to sleep at a reasonable hour for once, I could always read it to you as a bedtime story, Lestrange -- ”

“No thank you,” Atticus cut him off crisply. 

Her face appearing rather sympathetic, Ceci lightly bumped her arm against Atticus’s as they walked.

“Are you staying here for the holidays again, Atticus?”

Atticus nodded. “The library’s always nice and quiet, over break. It’s a good time to get some extra work done...”

Robert’s light-hearted expression faded -- something almost guilty passed over his face. 

“...Mm...”

His black eyes drifted away, off toward the far wall. Barty offered both his best friend and Atticus a smile. 

“Well, uh...maybe we can do some work over break together, then, Atticus,” Barty offered.

Atticus stiffened like a startled cat. “Huh?”

“My parents are taking a trip to visit my aunt and cousins in Normandy,” Barty explained sheepishly, “so I was thinking of staying at Hogwarts over break too! Don’t reckon much of anyone else in our year will be, so maybe we can hang out a bit over break, if you’d like...”

Atticus truly couldn’t think of anything he’d want to do less. Knowing it’d be incredibly rude to say so, however, he forced an uncomfortable smile. Ceci, however, jumped on it.

“That’s perfect!” she said. “Maybe you and Atticus can do some extra research, Barty.”

Atticus blinked in confusion. “Research?”

“About our dreams,” said Ceci eagerly.

Barty nodded. “One thing all of our visions have in common is that we all look older, right? You said that the guy in your dreams kind of looks like me, but older -- and Ceci, Rob, and I all see each other looking older too. But when we looked into Divination, all we really got was a lot of vague preaching -- ”

“You mean utter rubbish,” Robert inserted with a smirk. 

“So Robert was thinking,” Barty pressed on, “if this is some kind of future sight we’re having, maybe we can find out what’s causing it by studying Time-centric magic.”

“And what better person to help us with researching something in the library than Atticus Lestrange?” Ceci said with satisfaction, taking both of Atticus’s shoulders from behind and giving them a light squeeze.

Atticus, however, didn’t look so sure. “Well, thank you, but...I’ve already read every book in the library about Time Turners -- and I don’t think there’s anything in there that might explain what’s going on...”

“Every book?” prompted Ceci, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes,” said Atticus. “Well, except for the Restricted Section, but...”

He trailed off, noticing the wicked look that Ceci and Robert exchanged before they both glanced at Barty.

“Except for the Restricted Section,” repeated Robert, his lips spread in a broad white smirk.

Barty grinned -- his expression was perfectly angelic compared to his cohorts, and yet it was determined.

“Atticus,” he said in a very soft, but perfectly fearless voice, “mind if I join you on your evening Prefect rounds, over break?”

And that was how Atticus Lestrange got roped into sneaking into the Restricted Section of the Library after dark on Christmas Eve with Barty Gilbert. 

Atticus had been very wary when he lingered in the hall outside Ravenclaw Tower as planned, waiting for Barty. He knew his father most assuredly wouldn’t approve of this, and even despite that, he dreaded the thought of willingly spending time with his school rival. It didn’t matter how pleasantly the Gryffindor acted around him, or even how fond Atticus was becoming of his best friend -- Atticus didn’t like Barty, and that was that. And he absolutely hated the thought of getting into trouble just because he was roped into working with him. 

Unfortunately Atticus was so uptight and stiff while waiting around that he nearly had a heart attack when Barty’s disembodied voice whispered in his ear. 

“Sorry!” Barty whispered quickly. “I’m sorry -- I was really trying not to sneak up on you, but Filch is around that next corner...ack! Here he comes!”

He threw some sort of translucent cloth over Atticus’s head, prompting the other boy to crouch down so it covered both of them. 

The crabby Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch, rounded the corner, raising his lantern and looking around. His beady eyes glided over where Atticus and Barty were standing, narrowing suspiciously, before he trudged away.

“Andskotans djöful,” Atticus swore under his breath. 

He was clutching at his chest and breathing very heavily as he turned to gawk at Barty over his shoulder. 

“You have an Invisibility Cloak?”

Barty grinned sheepishly. “My parents own several robe shops. I figured one of their stock going missing wouldn’t be the absolute end of the world...”

He adjusted somewhat so that the fabric wouldn’t drag on the floor.

“Come on -- let’s get to the library.”

Fortunately the two managed to get into the Restricted Section without incident. Once they were positive no one was in the Library to catch them, Barty stood watch under his Cloak by the door, his wand over his chest, while Atticus combed through the shelves of books, his own wand lit and held aloft so he could scan the titles. The two didn’t talk much -- the discomfort congealed between them as Atticus tried to keep his eyes on what he was doing. 

“Anything promising?” asked Barty.

“Not yet,” said Atticus shortly. 

Silence returned. After another moment, Barty spoke again.

“Atticus...may I ask you something?”

“What?”

“In your dreams...do you see bad things happening?”

Atticus paused. Then he slid another book from the shelf and opened it, flipping through the pages. 

“Not really. I don’t see much of anything, I think -- at least, not that I can remember. It’s...feelings, mostly.”

“Feelings like you know something’s wrong? Like, even if you can’t see what happened, you feel so much pain and sorrow that you know it’s bad?”

“Sometimes.”

Barty nodded, turning his focus back out into the blackness of the Library. 

“As far back as I can remember,” he said very softly, “I’ve had this dream where I was trying to reach someone. I couldn’t ever see their face clearly, but I just knew, somehow, that the person was in trouble, and that I had to help them. But no matter how fast I tried to run to try to get to that person...my vision would black out and I’d feel like I was frozen still, unable to move at all.”

He bowed his head, his eyes cast into shadow. 

“...I would wake up screaming and crying at night, when I was little...all because I couldn’t reach that person in time. Because I knew that, because I didn’t move fast enough...that person was dead.”

Atticus’s hand had stilled on the book he was flipping through. His eyes were wide upon the page, but clearly weren’t taking in any of the words printed there. The memory of his own mother trying to comfort him after he woke up crying about a pair of red eyes and warm arms rippled over his mind. 

“When I got to Hogwarts,” Barty said lowly, “my dreams became a little clearer. I still didn’t know where I was or what I was doing...but this person who I’d been running to try to save, my whole life, suddenly had a face. A man with black eyes and curly hair...just like my best friend.”

He looked up at Atticus, his face incredibly serious. 

“I don’t know why you’ve seen someone like me in your dreams, Atticus,” said Barty, “and I know you don’t like me...but I could really use your help, in getting to the bottom of all this. Robert is my best friend in the whole world. He’s the first person who became my friend solely because of who I am, rather than who my family is. If I lost him...if anything bad happened to him...”

A dark, miserable shadow passed over his face. 

“...I don’t know what I’d do,” he whispered.

Atticus looked up at last. His blue eyes were rather uncertain. 

“What about Cecelia?” he asked. “Didn’t she become your friend for who you are?”

Barty’s eyes softened as his face flushed lightly. 

“...Ceci means everything to me. We’ve known each other forever. But her family only engaged with mine because we had money...and my parents only let us play together because her parents would bring her over. Our parents encouraged her to play with me because my parents reckoned she’d be a ‘good influence’ on me...might help me come out of my shell some...”

“Well, I suppose they were right,” muttered Atticus. “Now you’re the hot-shot Dueling Champion and Dragon Tamer...Hogwarts’s Golden Boy...”

The last words came out before he could stop himself and he immediately looked away, his insides prickling with discomfort. 

Barty, amazingly, only smiled weakly.

“It’s easy to be brave when you know you’re doing the right thing,” he said, “when you’re standing up for somebody or trying to calm an animal that doesn’t know any better. When you’re fighting, or protecting, there isn’t any thought -- you just do. Because it’s the right thing to do.”

He looked down again, his shoulders falling slightly.

“...But when you’re around people...trying to figure out just what to say, to tell people what you mean...or even just how much to say, when you know not everyone means you well...well, that’s not so easy. You feel like the whole world is watching you, and judging you, no matter what you say...even if you say nothing at all. But at least when you’re quiet...people can kind of just see what they want to see...”

Atticus frowned. Barty had always been rather soft-spoken compared to witty, sassy Robert and sociable, amiable Ceci, but he’d never really taken the time to conclude that Barty was actually shy. 

“I’ve always envied Robert that way,” admitted Barty, offering Atticus a small smile. “He’s never at a loss of what to say. When you and he go at it, bantering like you do...I can tell you like each other, but there’s just such a charge there -- like the eclectic lamps Professor Burbage has in her Muggle Studies class!” He beamed a bit more broadly. “It’s so cool.”

Atticus stared at Barty for a moment, unsure of what to say. Then, after a moment, he looked back down at the book in his hands.

“...Thanks,” he said at last. He could feel his ears burning again.

Barty, however, only smiled, his blue eyes very understanding and patient as he returned his focus to the dark Library again. 

Atticus glanced up at Barty without raising his head, considering him for a moment. Then, with a swallow, he spoke again.

“...I...used to wake up crying too. When I was little.”

Barty looked up, taken aback.

“I used to dream about this person with red eyes,” said Atticus. “He’d be squeezing my shoulders -- almost as if he was afraid to touch me at first, but then gently, purposefully. Then, as he held my shoulders, he would start to laugh...but even though he was laughing, I would hear the sobs. I could tell he was crying...crying in grief and joy and something else altogether...but so much pain. A kind of pain I don’t think I could ever know...”

Just remembering the heartbreaking sound made Atticus’s throat clench and his eyes well up with traces of tears. He wiped them quickly from his eyes with one hand. 

“My mother used to comfort me, telling me that it was just a dream, that nothing in it could hurt me,” he said lowly. “But she never needed to say that -- I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. He was the one hurting.”

He swallowed. The lump in his throat was painful. 

“...I didn’t have the dream as much, as I got older -- just time to time, around some of the other weird ones. Maybe I just don’t sleep long enough stretches to dream as much anymore,” he added as an afterthought. “But when Bellamy and I got paired for Binns’s oral report...well, that feeling came back, out of nowhere...and again, when you, Ceci, and I were watching the match against Hufflepuff.”

Atticus forced himself to meet Barty’s eyes at last.

“I don’t understand this whole thing at all...but I want to know why I’m feeling these things, and I want to know why you, Ceci, and Bellamy see what you’re seeing, too. If that’s what you want too...well, then it’s only practical that we work together.”

He offered a weak smile of his own. Barty was definitely taken aback, but within seconds, his face had lit up with a warmer, more determined smile and he nodded.

“Mm-hmm.”

From that day on, Barty Gilbert and Atticus Lestrange had made peace. 

Unfortunately their night in the Library proved fruitless, research-wise. Not even Dark or restricted magic could explain the kinds of bizarre, fragmented visions the four students were experiencing. And so Atticus returned to his dorm that night feeling very disheartened. He was less so, however, when he awoke out of a restless doze in the Ravenclaw armchair Christmas morning to the feeling of someone holding his shoulder and lightly shaking it.

“Atticus. Atticus.”

Atticus blinked sleepily up at who’d woken him, to see a familiar, shyly smiling face framed by auburn hair.

“Happy Christmas,” Barty greeted gently.

Atticus shook his head rapidly, trying to orient himself. 

“W-what? Gilbert, what -- what are you doing in -- ?”

Just behind Barty, Atticus could see both Ceci and Robert grinning from ear to ear. 

“Surprise!” said Ceci brightly. 

“Happy Christmas, Lestrange,” said Robert, his black eyes dancing with mischief.

Atticus looked around at all three of them, perfectly bewildered. “But -- but you -- you two went home for Christmas -- how did -- ?”

“Rob and I took the Floo back!” Ceci explained. 

“It was Rob’s idea,” said Barty. “I thought I’d keep the whole thing quiet, until they got here.”

“I couldn’t change my plans and stay for my whole break, since I have to be at home for Christmas Eve church service,” said Robert, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably, “but well, the thought of you being stuck here all alone...”

His eyes drifted up to the ceiling. 

“‘The school is not quite deserted,’ said the Ghost,” he recited from memory, “‘A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left there still.’”

He returned his gaze to Atticus seriously. 

“A Christmas Carol,” he added as explanation. “It’s part of why Scrooge ends up hating Christmas so much -- he wasn’t allowed to go home for the holidays to see his family, so instead he stayed at school all alone, with nothing but his books for company. I know this whole season isn’t your thing and all, but...it just seemed rotten, to leave you and Barty alone.” 

Barty beamed at Atticus. Atticus, on the other hand, was too overwhelmed to respond. He felt like his throat had gone very dry, all of the moisture instead moving up toward his eyes. 

Robert and Ceci had put their holidays with their families on hold for him. Yes, Robert said it was for him and Barty, but he’d been thinking of Atticus and how lonely he’d be. No one had ever done anything quite so kind for him before, and it made Atticus feel like his heart was flooding. 

“...You...” he murmured, “...but...why?”

Ceci laughed. “Why do you think? You’re our friend, Atticus! We wanted to spend Christmas with you!”

Atticus’s heart swelled. 

Friend. He was their friend?

He looked from Ceci to Barty to Robert -- his black-haired dormmate smiled, his black eyes sparkling as he nodded in agreement. 

The tears that had been prickling at the sides of Atticus’s eyes actually leaked through, escaping down his cheeks, as he smiled back. He quickly wiped them away, his smile gleaming as he looked up at the three of them.

“...Thank you,” he said at last breathily. “I...I don’t know what to say...”

Ceci brought her arms around Atticus in a sideways hug. “Then don’t say anything! We have presents to unwrap! Come on, come on -- Barty, Rob and I put ours under the tree before we woke you...”

Atticus felt a bit guilty that he hadn’t thought to buy any presents for Robert, Barty, and Cecelia, but he honestly hadn’t expected that they’d want to get him anything. But sure enough, all three of them gave marvelous presents -- Barty gave Atticus a book on Dark creatures; Ceci gave him his own leather-bound copy of A Christmas Carol; and Robert gave him a beautiful bookmark carved out of wood into the shape of a Phoenix and painted brilliant shades of red and orange. The card enclosed said,

Ceci helped me paint this for you. Hope this little turkey can keep you company in the Library. 

Happy Christmas!

Robert

Atticus was amazed when he learned that Robert had actually carved the bookmark himself by hand. Apparently Robert had used some of the leftover wood from the trunk of the tree he’d smuggled into Ravenclaw Tower to make Atticus’s bookmark -- he’d also used some of the branches he’d had to trim off to make Barty a carved picture frame and Ceci a pretty wooden heart pendant she could wear as a necklace. They were all a little rough around the edges, but the effort showed through, and it warmed Atticus’s heart to think of the amount of work Robert must’ve put in to make his presents. 

The whole day put Atticus in such a good mood that he even encouraged Robert to read aloud from his new leather-bound copy of A Christmas Carol, so he could hear it. The request made Robert’s dark eyes light up more brightly than Atticus had ever seen them before...and indeed, when Robert finished reading the beautifully written, emotional novel with such warm sincerity and articulated poetry that evening, Atticus had to admit -- it was a very, very good book. 

[sincerelyella]

RAMifications Chapter 5 -  Why Don’t We Fall In Love

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella)

Song Inspiration: Why Don’t We Fall In Love by Amerie

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Brooks belongs to me

A/N: This entire idea came from Burnsy and her unBEARable series featuring her OTP Drake and Alyssa. This is Ella’s backstory and how she met the love of her life King Liam of Cordonia and became his queen. This doesn’t follow much of TRR books, there is still a social season but not all of the players are present. Throw canon out the window!

Catch up here

Warnings: Adult language; NSFW -> second base maybe

Words: 2439 

“Why was kissing me a mistake, Liam?”

Liam stared at her in surprise. He didn’t expect her to bring up the kiss, he hadn’t planned on bringing it up either; but it had been on his mind all week.

“I should have asked; I didn’t know how you felt …” he babbled. You’re blowing this! He audibly swallowed and tried to think about what to say next without looking like an idiot. “I’m sorry, Ella,” he whispered. “It wasn’t a mistake. Nothing with you has been a mistake. I just … this is my social season with suitors. At the time I didn’t think I could have you.” When she remained quiet he continued to nervously prattle. “Then I saw you at the beer garden on a date-“

“Wait,” she interrupted with her hand up. “You saw me?”

Liam nodded. “Yes, Drake and Alyssa and I were driving by, and I saw you get in the car with … someone,” he clenched his jaw. Ella smirked when she saw it and raised a brow at him.

She took a step forward. “Why, Your Highness, were you jealous?”

“No!” He said a little too quickly. He looked away for a second then back down at her and she tried so hard not to smile, but the edges of her mouth were curving up.

She took another step forward. “It wasn’t a date, Liam,” she said softly. “It was a way for me to get my mind off of a certain prince.”

She was so close to him, but their bodies weren’t touching. He could feel the warmth of her through the clothes in between them; the smell of her lavender perfume made him dizzy and rock hard at the same time. There she was, looking up at him with her mouth slightly parted, sending him a message; her eyes darker then they usually were, almost black. His gaze dropped down and landed on her mouth, they were drawing him in, closer and closer. Kiss her! Kiss her now! He quickly dropped his lips down onto hers, not gentle or shy like before, but passionate, like he was drinking from her. Like he was dying and needed her, all of her, to live. He wrapped his arms around her small waist, tugged her tightly against his chest and he felt her arms come around his neck. She softly moaned against his mouth and he took that opportunity to slip his tongue inside. Their tongues massaged each others, their hands were everywhere, soft groans filled the room. Liam ran his hands down to squeeze her ass, then reached the back of Ella’s thighs and lifted her easily off the floor. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he pressed her up against the closest wall. He ravaged her mouth and pressed himself against her throbbing core. She pulled away with a small moan as Liam kneaded one of her breasts outside her sweater. He rested his forehead against hers as they fought to catch their breath.

“Oh … my God,” she panted. Her head was swimming, she had never been kissed like that before. Ever.

Liam watched her with a smirk on his face. He leaned in to capture her lips again, slow and gentle. “I meant to kiss you like that,” he chuckled.

Ella smiled wide. “Uh-huh. Well, I didn’t mind this though … not at all.”

“Neither did I.” He flashed a grin at her and her legs got weak.

He placed one last kiss on her swollen lips before putting her carefully back on her feet and cleared his throat. “I, uh, really did invite you to stay so I could answer your questions. I know all of this is rather foreign to you.”

What were we talking about? “Umm …” she looked up at him with a confused look on her face.

“The social season, Ella,” he laughed loudly. “Come on, I can order us some dinner and we can talk?”

She nodded, just now realizing she hadn’t eaten at all since breakfast and her stomach was growling. Liam stepped away to order some food while she took in the living area and kitchen. Everything was modern, stainless steel appliances, a large kitchen island, marble countertops, a comfortable looking sectional that face a 75 inch flat screen TV. The entire area was simplistic but very masculine at the same time.

“Food should be here in a little bit, come sit with me.” He led her to the sectional, faced her and took her hands in his. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable about being a suitor. I want to be honest with you about everything.” Ella’s brows wrinkled in question and Liam continued. “The social season is a way for single women from all the noble houses in the kingdom to, essentially, compete to be queen. My queen.” He sighed. “In all honesty, it’s basically me … dating these women … at the same time.”

Liam held his breath. He studied Ella’s facial expression then held eye contact, silently pleading for her to say something. Anything.

She stared back at him, trying to gather her thoughts. I left Ethan because he dated multiple women. “So, you’ll be doing what we did in here … with those other women?”

He shook his head fiercely. “No! No, Ella!” He placed his hands on both sides of her neck and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “Court dating is very different from normal dating. Everything is done in front of the court, we talk and dance and there may be kisses on the cheek or hands but I won’t be doing anything like that with any of them.”

Ella nodded. Liam leaned over to kiss her softly and a knock on the door caused them to jump, then giggle. “It’s just dinner.” He rose from the couch to answer the door and rolled in a cart of covered plates a few moments later.

As they dug into their food, Liam continued speaking about the social season. “Our next event is in Applewood, the Apple Festival. I must warn you,” he stopped cutting the meat on his plate and looked at Ella. “My father has already told me that I need to … spend time with all of the ladies the last few weeks of the season.” He frowned and started to cut the meat again. “Originally, I was making small talk with them but not fully engaging. My father took notice and … I can’t show any favoritism while out in public, Ella.”

Ella continued to eat, looking down at her plate, thinking about Liam’s words. I don’t belong here.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said quietly.

She put her fork down. “I’m thinking that maybe I don’t belong here, Liam. I’m in school … I am a semester away from getting my degree. I was … planning on working at the children’s hospital.” She sighed. “Do I just give that up? For something I’m not even sure about? What if the court hates me? What if you don’t … choose me after the season-“

“Ella.” He said sternly, interrupting her nervous chattering. She flinched at his tone and looked him in the eye. “I don’t plan on choosing anyone but you,” his voice softened. “The only time I wouldn’t choose you … is if you tell me this isn’t what you want. The crown is a heavy, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone if they weren’t willing.”

Say no thank you, Ella. “I want this,” she blurted out. If she was honest with herself, she never felt anything like what she felt for Liam.

“What did you say?” He heard her, but he wanted to hear her say it again.

“I want this,” she said, louder and with more confidence. “I want this, and I want you. I just … want to figure out a way to also finish my degree.”

Liam smiled and kissed her soundly on mouth. “I want this, and I want you too,” and started placing chaste kisses on her lips over and over until she laughed. “We will figure out something for your school. For the season, however, you may need to drop this semester. Start again in January.”

She nodded. “Alright, I can do that. Now, my sponsors … what are they for?”

“The Beaumont’s have no single women to send as a representative of their house for the social season. So, they find a woman suitable and sponsor her so that she can represent their house.”

They talked through the night, he answered her questions and they had made plans to meet with Maxwell and Bertrand the next day. He taught her how to address nobles with their title and how to curtsy when appropriate. Liam had one of the guards drive her home so she could pack her things and come back to stay at the palace.

*****

The next day

Ella smiled and her thoughts went back to last night. She absentmindedly put her fingers on her lips. This was the last thing she expected when she flew to a country nobody had heard of. Falling for a prince and possibly ending up marrying him - it all sounded a little crazy. She woke up this morning thinking it was all a dream. But a text from Liam that said ‘good morning beautiful’ brought her back to reality. It’s not a dream. Holy shit I’m dating a prince!

On her way to the palace, Ella made a pit stop at the floral truck. Her boss gave her a big hug when she told him everything.

“I knew there was a reason Prince Liam was making you deliver all his flowers,” Aaron laughed loudly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ella rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry I’m leaving with such short notice, Aaron. I have to postpone school until next semester also.”

He waved her apology dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, you just make us proud and become a damn good queen.”

“Oh God,” she placed her hand on her forehead. “I haven’t fully come to terms with that yet,” her eyes widened.

“You’ll be fine, Ella,” Aaron’s face took on a serious expression. “You took the hospital by storm, you took on this job like a boss, everyone you speak to loves you immediately,” he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Ella swallowed nervously and swallowed. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I have to head to the palace, move in and all that, so I’ll see you around.”

She gave him one last hug before getting back in the car.

**

Liam sat in his quarters with Maxwell and Bertrand, waiting for Ella to arrive. Max was bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I can’t wait to meet her! Alyssa said she was great!”

Liam smiled. “Yes, she is pretty great.”

“Yes, well … great could still embarrass House Beaumont and I won’t have it.” Bertrand said with a frown.

“Aw B, don’t be so stuffy. If Liam is taken with her and Alyssa says she’s a winner then quit worrying!” Maxwell jumped up and down in excitement. “I’m hungry! Liam do you have fruit roll-ups?”

“Fruit … roll-ups??” His brows furrowed in confusion. He never got an answer as Max had already skipped to the kitchen to rummage through the cabinets.

A knock on the door made Liam snap his head towards the sound and start to get up off the couch.

“I GOT IT!” Maxwell hollered and ran to open the door. “Sam! It’s fine! Prince Liam knows Ella is coming … no you don’t need to see the prince right now, Sam … Come on, Ella!” The door slammed and a moment later Max had tugged Ella into the living area. Bertrand and Liam stood and Maxwell grinned from ear to ear.

“Okay! So hi, I’m Maxwell! Alyssa told me soooo much about you! Want some Doritos??” He handed Ella the bag.

“I’m good, thanks,” she laughed. “Nice to meet you Max.” Ella turned to Liam and Bertrand. “Hello, Your Highness, Your Grace,” she gave them a small curtsy.

Liam smiled down at her, took her hand and kissed her knuckles softly. “Hello, Lady Ella.”

Bertrand cleared his throat. “I see you know how to curtsy and address your betters.”

Maxwell gave his brother a glare. “What Bertrand means is … he’s happy to meet you!”

Bertrand rolled his eyes. “Lady Ella, if you are to represent House Beaumont we will need to prepare you properly for the festivities in Applewood. We leave in a mere day and a half.”

There was another knock on the door. Liam cleared his throat. “Excuse me.” He opened the door and was surprised to see who was standing on the other side.

“What in the hell is going on?”

[bumblebeug]

Felix, The Punk : Pt 2.

Pt 2 : Not completely Wrong

“Alright class. Attention, please,” Mme. Bustier clapped. The general chatter of the class settled down and focused on their teacher’s bright smile.  “I have a very special announcement! I know it’s unusual for this to happen at the end of the day but we have a new student joining us!”

The student next to her, half-heartedly raised one hand in greeting.

“Man,” Alya quietly muttered, “Another year, another kid.”

Yeah, you new kids are taking over, Nino texted to their group chat.

“Pft,” Alya snorted. You’re just jealous that we’re cooler than you.

As if. Came Nino’s reply.

Flirt on your own time, I’m trying to pay attention.

Sure thing, mom.

Marinette rolled her eyes and lightly kicked Nino’s chair.

“Hey!” Nino retorted.

“Something you wish to add, Nino?” Mme. Bustier asked.

Nino straightened, “No, ma’am.”

“Right, so, as I was saying – our new student is joining us from just across the channel. So please, welcome to the class Felix Lenoir.” Mme. Bustier clapped to signal the rest of the class should follow suit. The new student rolled his eyes at the smattering of applause that resulted.

Felix? Marinette turned slightly to smile at Ivan, as if to say, ‘What are the odds of that?’ only to find him already grinning broadly.

“Ok Felix, there is a place next to Ivan.” Mme. Bustier said apparently satisfied at the reception he received, “He’s in the third –”

“It’s ok,” Felix interrupted. “I already know him,” he added politely and confidently walked over to Ivan.

It was when the two of them quietly bumped forearms that it clicked.

Felix.

From England.

The most punk person Ivan has ever met.

WHAT?!

Marinette’s jaw dropped. She turned further to see that Juleka’s expression was a mirror to her own. Rose, on the other hand, was frowning confusedly at Juleka.

‘What’s wrong?’ Marinette could see Rose’s mouth form the words.

In response, Juleka shook herself and cupped a hand over Rose’s ear to hide her whisper.

“WHAT?!” Rose exclaimed.

As one, the class turned to stare at her outburst. Oblivious, or immune, to the staring while she pointed her finger in Felix’s direction. “You’re Felix?” she asked incredulously, eyes darting between Ivan and Felix.

“The one and only,” Felix answered gamely and even though Marinette couldn’t see his face, she was sure he was grinning.  

Mme. Bustier cleared her throat loudly. “Now,” She said louder than necessary. The class went quiet. She continued at a normal volume, “Today we are going to focus on…”

“What on Earth was that about?” Alya asked out of the corner of her mouth to Marinette as she took notes. “You, Juleka, and Rose acted like you’d seen some sort of crazy anomaly.”

“Nothing escapes your keen reporter-senses.” Marinette said.

Alya tapped her pen on Marinette’s notebook, “Darn right. So you gonna spill or what? Why’s the new kid warrant such shock and awe?”

Marinette shrugged a shoulder, “Like, he doesn’t. Not really. It’s just – the other day, Ivan told us about the most punk person he’d ever met. I guess seeing who he meant was sorta a shock.”

Alya quickly disguised her laughter as a sudden coughing fit. “No way. That guy? Mr. Sweater-Vest over there is the most punk person Ivan’s ever met? He looks more like a pre-colour television Mr. Rogers.”

“Hence the shock,” Marinette replied with an upturn of her lips.

Apparently satisfied that she’d gotten to the bottom of it Alya turned back to her notes and left Marinette to her thoughts. Felix was nothing like Marinette pictured. She’d gotten everything wrong – from his height to his outfit. No patches, no rips, and certainly no tears. He was more neatly pressed than even Adrien was during a photoshoot. Where she’d been picturing a colorful explosion of hair, instead it was combed down. The heavy boots she pictured were a fantasy replaced by glossy dress shoes.  And she didn’t dare speculate on whether or not his dress shirt hid any muscles underneath it.

This was the guy that impressed Ivan so thoroughly?

She tamped down on the instinct to dismiss him. After all, Ivan rarely, if ever, exaggerated to impress others. Plus who was she to judge a book by its cover? She was the hero of Paris and didn’t look it. Of course, she thought wryly, the magic of the miraculous made sure that she couldn’t easily be recognized, so maybe that was a bad example.

Marinette tapped her cheek as she searched her mind for a good example.

Oh! She mentally perked. Rose was a great example!

Before Kitty Section, everyone thought that hard rock was a genre that Rose would utterly hate. It wasn’t until she founded the band that people realized their assumption was wrong. Actions, not appearances.

And – the bell rang, startling Marinette from her reverie. She stared down at her blank page. Had she really tuned out the whole lesson?

“Alya I,” she began as they filed out of the classroom, flush creeping up her cheek.

“Don’t worry girl,” Alya held her hand up, “I gotchu. Saw that you went to lala-land like, 3 minutes into the lecture and started recording when I realized that you weren’t leaving it anytime soon.”

Marinette’s phone pinged.

“There,” Alya pocketed her phone, “Do you also want me to send you pictures of my notes?”

“Alya.” Marinette placed her hands on the other girl’s shoulders. “You are my best friend. I owe you one.”

Alya laughed and brushed off Marinette’s hands and compliment. “Yeah, yeah. You do this for everyone else – least I could do. Plus, between you and me, I figured that Adrien would want some quality notes to read after his photoshoot.” She raised her voice teasingly as Nino passed by, “I saw the state of someone’s notetaking abilities and knew I had to intervene.”

Nino scoffed playfully. “Please, my notes are impeccable. Boy gets As all the time.”

She flicked the rim of his hat. “Only because he has to translate your chicken scratch to something worthwhile. Aaanyways,” She continued, “I promised my mom I’d help with some catering deliveries, so I gotta jet.”

When Alya closed her locker, she unknowingly gave Marinette a clear view of Felix a few spaces away, draping something over his arm.

 A leather jacket.

 ________

 I can’t say how nice it is to be able to kick back and have some time for writing. Hope you guys enjoyed Part 2. Also, just gonna say now - these chapters will have no consistent length, I’m just gonna write til I’m satisfied. Love reading comments, so write ‘em if you want to. 

Part 1

Tag List!

@kris-pines04, @heldtogetherbysafetypins, @hi-what-is-anything, @swirlmist, @princessofharte

[rohad93]

Moonlit Masquerade: Ch 8

On Friday Amity is tired, but she relishes every minute she spends at school and not home, because the weekend was looking to be just as exhausting. 

Blue moon masquerades are a Blight family tradition, her parents have been throwing the parties for as long as she can remember and it’s a tradition that they begin throwing these parties at sixteen. With this being the first blue moon since the twins turned sixteen it's finally time for them to do it. 

Normally the two are all about parties, but considering all the rules and protocols their parents have set for the event, any enthusiasm the twins might have had is well and truly dead before the party planning even begins.  

Now it’s just one more thing expected of them and Amity can tell how much they hate it, so she tries to help them with the planning whenever she can.

Someday it will be her turn after all. 

She also still has yet to speak to Luz since Wednesday and she feels bad about it, but facing her is too hard right now, especially when the object of her affections seems to actively pushing her toward this secret admirer she has.

She clutches her book to her chest as she walks down Hexside’s quiet and deserted hallways. 

Maybe Luz is just a pipe-dream she needs to try and forget about. She was never going to have the courage to face her and tell her how she feels, and if Luz had any inclination toward her at all she wouldn’t be advocating so hard for a mysterious stranger. 

Her lips quiver and her eyes burn but she quickly shoves it down. She is not going to cry at school, she’s a Blight!

A mantra she uses to steel herself even as she hates it. 

She shakes her head and continues on toward her locker. 

When she stops to stand in front of it the creature looks annoyed and she realizes why when it opens its mouth unprompted and sticks out its tongue.

She's started to get a little more used to these surprises but the one waiting for her this morning makes her gasp. 

Sitting there on her locker's tongue is a small maroon colored velvet box she knows immediately is a jewelry box. A piece of folded paper sitting beneath it.

She hesitates a minute before picking up the box and the note. Curiosity gets the better of her and she opens the box before anything else and stares wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape.

Nestled within the satin lining is a brooch. 

Fine lines of gold shaped to look like thorned vines twist and loop in random but pleasing patterns, overlapping each other in places. At the center of the vines is a small tear-shaped gemstone in a gold setting. She's not sure what kind, but it's a deep fuchsia color that sparkles and gleams when it catches a stray beam of light from the hallways overhead lights. 

It's beautiful and Amity is in awe of it as she pulls it from its box with hesitant fingers and holds it gently in her hand. She runs her thumb over the hard and smooth facets of the stone, feeling the different, sharp cut sides press into the pad of her thumb. 

The metal is cool and hefty in her fingers and her heart thuds in her chest that someone would go through all this trouble for her.

It's a common misconception among the student body that Amity Blight must be beating suitors off with a staff, but the truth is no one had ever pursued her.

Her family was highly influential and well off, everyone assumed she was above them, unattainable; so they didn't try. Not that she’d done much to change that opinion. 

Of course, when it finally does happen she's head over heels for someone as unattainable as people think she is…

With gentle fingers she puts the jewelry back in its box and finally turns her attention to the piece of paper, unfolding it.

"Amity,

When I saw this in the market I could only think of you. I hope you like it. This is my final gift as your secret admirer.

Even if you can't return my feelings, would you dance with me tomorrow night?

I'll be wearing a black and purple horned demon mask.

~Your soon-to-be-not-so-secret Admirer 

Amity's heart is thumping loudly in her chest, the meaning of the letter is clear. Her secret admirer is going to be at the masquerade tomorrow night. 

She clutches the box in her hands and bites her lip.

Maybe… this was her chance to let go of Luz… 

Her heart aches at the thought, but her mind knows that it would be the better choice. 

Luz is human and while it's rather uncertain right now if she'll ever actually leave the Boiling Isles since the only known portal has been destroyed, Amity's parents would have an aneurysm if they were to ever find out she was in a romantic relationship with a human, the Owl Lady's apprentice no less. 

Despite that, if the opportunity presented itself Amity would still leap headfirst into it without any reservations.

She's never known anyone like Luz in all her life. The girl is kindness and sunshine incarnate, something exceedingly rare in a place like the Boiling Isles. 

She’s made her a better person in the time they’ve known each other. 

Looking back now she finds it hard to believe that she ever hated her.

She looks down at the maroon box in hand and frowns, chest tight. Conflicted emotions run rampant through her mind

For all the things she loves about Luz, of which there are many, she knows that she'll never have the courage to tell her so, and Luz has made it clear in just as many ways that she doesn't see Amity in the same light, and at the end of the day, all her longing and feelings are for not if Luz doesn't return them.

But here, in the palm of her hand, she has a chance at something that might be real and not just a flight of fantasy.  

She takes a deep breath and puts the box and note in her bag and heads to class.

She doesn't see Luz at lunch, for which she is grateful but disappointed. She sits with Willow and Gus when they wave her over.

"Hey, Amity, have you seen Luz today? We missed her this morning," the plant witch asks. Amity frowns.

"No, I haven't seen her all day." 

"She must not be at school today…" Willow frowns.

That's unusual, Luz loves school. Amity wonders if she's sick, but in the back of her mind, she wonders if Luz is avoiding her.

She looks down at her lunch and is suddenly not very hungry, but she stays and chats with Gus and Willow.

~ ~ 

Luz probably should have told her friends that she decided not to go to school today in order to have more time to get ready for Saturday night, but she’s on a deadline, there was no time to go to the school to tell Gus and Willow. She really needed to get a scroll. 

She only has one real problem left.

Hiding her ears.

If either of the Clawthorne sisters had magic it would be an easy thing to cast an illusion spell over her ears, but they don't; so it's not.

She's been leafing through Eda's various magic books, searching for a practical solution to her problem.

So far, no luck.

"Ugh!" Luz groans, shelving the books and stalking to her room, grumbling under her breath. "Why couldn't I have been born with a bile sac!?" she laments, dropping face down onto her sleeping bag.

She’s running out of time and unlike the way she handles most things, no plan, full steam ahead and flying by the seat of her pants, she needs to have this figured out before the party or everything was going to be for nothing! Now wasn’t the time to sharpen her improv skills. 

She has her clothes and her mask, they were easy. She was pretty pleased with herself on that front.

“Aghhhhh” she yells into the fabric before she ran out of air and was forced to flip over onto her back. 

Her time is ticking away and she can’t waste anymore with her frustrations. With a sigh, she hauled herself up and looked around her room, spotting the book about ancient, wild magic Amity had leant her and leaned over to grab it, dragging it into her lap and flipping it open.

She quickly leafs through page after page, hope waning as the minutes turn to hours and the next thing she knows the orange rays of the sunset are leaking through her window.

She sighed and twisted around, trying to relieve the pressure in her back from sitting hunched over the heavy tome for so long.

Maybe she could wear a hat, would it be okay to wear a hat?

She tiredly flips another page and scans it quickly as she reaches for the next but stops. 

In front of her are some illustrations of witches, but unlike other images in the book, these ones have what look like glyphs drawn on their skin; tattoos maybe?

Some of the book is written in a language she knows and some of it is not, and this section is, of course, not. 

But the longer she studies it the more an idea forms.

She sets the book aside and scrambles to her bag for a pen.

With one in hand she moves back over to the book The studies it again before laying her hand flat against its pages.

Steadily she draws the illusory glyph she'd been experimenting with across the back of her hand. She observes the final product and hesitates.

This could be dangerous.

She doesn’t allow the thought to take up much more than a few seconds of her time as she slaps her other hand over the glyph and willing it to do what she wants.

Her hand is enveloped in a light blue glow and when it fades her hand is tipped with long claws, the glyph still visible on the back of her hand. 

She flexes her hand tentatively and slowly a grin begins to split her face.

“It worked… It worked!” She jumps up with an excited whoop. She licks her thumb and rubs at the ink, as soon as the circle is broken the illusion fades with the same soft blue glow as before. She takes her pen and closes the circle back up and casts the spell again, and again, her hand transforms.

Giddy energy is filling her to near bursting as she shoots out of her room and runs into the bathroom.

It's an hour later that King is banging on the bathroom door.

“Other people live here and need the bathroom!” he squeals angrily, stomping his feet.

He almost falls over when the door suddenly swings open just as he’s pounding on it.

“Weh!” He stumbles, but catches himself and looks up, ready to lay his wrath upon whoever is hogging the bathroom but stops short at the sight in front of him.

“Well? What do you think?” Luz asks excitedly, but she doesn’t wait for his answer before bolting down the hall.

“Eda, EDA!” She calls pounding down the stairs and toward the kitchen, where she can hear someone moving around. Lilith looks up from her place on the couch as the girl passes and does a double take. 

“What?” Eda grumbles looking up from the large pot of potions she’s stirring. “Where’s the fir-” she trails off when she actually sees Luz.

She looks totally the same.

Except where once her ears were round, they are now pointed like any other witch on the Boiling Isles. 

“Wha-?” Eda looks at her wide eyed.

Lilith has followed into the kitchen to get a better look at the girl.

“Fascinating, how did you accomplish this?” She leans in close to get a better look. The illusion is seamless and if she didn’t know better she would have never guessed Luz wasn’t a witch.

“Well, you know that illusion glyph I taught you?” she asks and they nod. “Well, I was looking through this book Amity gave me and it showed wild witches with glyphs drawn on their bodies. So I figured I'd give it a shot!” she grins and reaches up to flick the tips of her now pointed ears. 

Eda walks over and turns her around, brushing Luz’s dark hair out of the way, she can see that  drawn on the back of both of Luz’s ears are small illusory glyphs. The older with grins.

“Kid, you’re brilliant.” She ruffled the girl's hair and Luz beamed. 

“Thanks, Eda.” 

“And think of the scams we could pull with this!” She grins and Lillith rolls her eyes.

Luz just chuckles, not even a little surprised.

[crystalwillow]

Count My Blessings

Pairing: Noah Harris x Anna-Rose Price

Features: Mason Jennings, Hazel Harris, Elijah Harris & Ms. Harris

Mentioned: Samantha Lawrence, Mackenzie Price, Dave Price (Mc & Mack’s dad)

Word Count: 4.7K

Inspired by the finale of My Two First Loves. I wanted to write something for us who took the route of romancing Noah. Having Mason and Ava as friends. I do want to quickly disclaim that I chose to rename Ava to Samantha, to give Elijah one last chance and not turn him over to police, and to take the sweet route in the finale, not the steamy one. So this will mostly be fluff with slight steamy moments between Noah and Anna-Rose. 

I am using the names of the characters in my play through, and I am referring to Noah, Elijah & Hazel’s ma as Ms. Harris. 

I will at some point replay the book a further two times so I can write something similar to this for both Mason and Ava. But I do ask you to just bear in mind that Ava might be called Samantha because that’s what I’m choosing to call her. 

Also, this is written in first person, which is different for me as I usually mainly write in 3rd person. But nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this fiction. 

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The night after the recital, I sat around the dining table in Noah’s home with his family. Ms. Harris had no idea what to make for dinner, so in my infinite wisdom, I had offered to pop by the store earlier in the day, and with the help of Mason, I was able to get all the ingredients I needed to make my favourite pasta dish. We’d also stopped by a clothing store to buy a couple of new outfits for me to choose from to wear for dinner. But of course, now being part of the family, I couldn’t not get anything for Hazel. So naturally, I spent hours browsing the shelf for the little rascal whilst Mason went through the women’s section, picking out potential options for me. I was starting to feel hopeless in the store we were in when I saw something that was screaming Hazel right at my face. Red is a colour that has always suited her, so when I came face to face with a beautiful red dress, with golden stars printed onto the material and a headband to match. I screamed, snatching up one in her size almost immediately. I was adoring the dress when Mason came rushing round the corner with what looked like a dozen dresses over his shoulders.

“Anna-Rose!” he panted, slightly out of breath.

“Mason? What is it? What’s wrong?” I asked, confusion clear on my face.

“You screamed.”

My face fell before breaking out into a wide grin and eventually laughter erupted from my throat.

“What? Why are you laughing? I don’t get it.” 

“I just found the perfect dress for Hazel, I’m not in danger.”

He scowled at me as I grinned at him before breaking out into laughter of his own, realizing how ridiculous our current situation was. “Right... You didn’t shout the..”

“Codeword of shobaloobagoobleflop.”

“Yeah… that.”

We stood in the moment for a while longer before heading to the fitting rooms for me to try on the dresses he had picked out and carried over his shoulder. After a further 45 minutes in the store, I’d narrowed it down to three options. A stunning silver bodycon dress, but it looked more like something someone would wear to an award show. A beautiful flowing sun dress in a beautiful midnight blue mixed with a little purple colour. And my personal favourite. A simple yet effective shirt dress in my favourite colour and made from my favourite material. Navy blue denim. I already owned a dress similar to this one, but in all the excitement of getting back to Eastridge to support Samantha at her first recital, I’d forgotten to pack it. And nobody can ever own too much denim. Or too many dresses. Right? 

“How’s it going Anna-Rose?” Mason asked loudly from outside the changing room. 

“Uhhh… I don’t know which to choose. I don’t want it to be too much and inappropriate for the dinner table. But I also want to look rejuvenated after actually spending the time cooking which is going to make me tired.” I shouted back.

“Well.. what options do you have left?”

As I told Mason the options I had left in the changing room with me I heard him reacting. 

“Okay. so you so do not want the bodycon. Hand that back.”

“Okay..” I replied as I stuck my arm out of the curtain, dress hanger in hand.

“Thank you, I’ll just pop this back. One moment please,” Mason said and I heard his footsteps retreat, I sat on the stool and looked at myself in the mirror and let out a small chuckle. Six months ago the girl looking back at me was going through so much she thought she might just not wake up one day due to exploding from stress in her sleep. But now, she’s a student at NYAI, is certain in her future, is lucky to have the friends she has and is proud of being the girlfriend to one of the most handsome people she has ever seen.

As I sat staring in the mirror waiting for Mason to return, my phone pinged on the side with a notification. It was a voice note from Noah in response to a message I’d sent whilst I was shopping for groceries with Mason. 

“Anna-Rose, you’re already too sweet for me. But it sounds like a good idea for you girls to get in some premium bonding time. I guess I could spare you for... Let’s say… 2 movies.”

I smiled as I listened to his chuckle and small whispering of “I love you” at the end, I held down the button to record and send my own response to him. 

“Noah Harris, you are not getting out of spending time doing face masks and painting your nails with myself and Hazel by slinking away to watch your videos about macho racing cars, or whatever it is you do. Plus I got our favourite candy! You can’t say no to that!” 

I followed the voice note with a picture of me pouting in the changing room mirror. Just as I locked my phone, I heard Mason return saying my name after clearing his throat. 

“I’ve just spoken to a shop assistant and she said that you should definitely go with the denim dress. It’s perfect pair with black heeled booties and your hair in a braid, pretty much how it is now.”  

I smiled as Mason relayed the information to me and got dressed back into my own clothes before making sure I had everything and pulling back the curtain. These two remaining dresses in hand. 

“Then I guess we’re putting back a sun dress.” 

Mason smiled and before we knew it he was dropping me back off at the Harris household, helping me inside with the bags before bidding me goodbye and leaving to head home. I was unpacking the groceries when I heard small footsteps bounding towards the kitchen, followed by much bigger ones. 

“Anna-Rose! Thank Goodness!” Hazel gasped as she ducked behind my legs as a grinning Elijah rounded the corner. He straightened up upon seeing my presence and swallowed harshly as he cleared his throat. 

“Anna-Rose. Ah. I um-”

“Was just doing what big brothers should do. Playing with their younger siblings and making them happy. Carry on, I just need to unpack these groceries and then I’m going to start preparing for dinner. But, I do want you two to clean up and be settled before your ma and Noah get home from work, okay? They’re going to want some peace and quiet before dinner.”

Elijah and Hazel looked at each other, talking with facial expressions before turning back to me and nodding profusely with large grins. “Okay, Anna-Rose!” they said in unison before carrying on with their game. 

Later on around 5:30pm, the door opened and closed as Noah returned from work, taking a deep inhale. 

“Something smells delicious.” he commented. 

“Anna-Rose is cooking dinner for us sweetie.” Ms. Harris replied as Hazel and Elijah bickered over a crayon’s shape on the floor. 

“No! I’m telling you Elijah. It’s a mermaid!”

“Nooo. it’s definitely a shark.”

Noah looked at them and chuckled from behind me before greeting me with a kiss. 

“Hey gorgeous. Miss me?”

“Of course I did.”

He smiled at me and we shared another kiss before he sighed. “As much as I’d love to stand her and cuddle you whilst you finish cooking, I’m gonna go jump in the shower. I’m covered in grease and brake fluid. It’s not the best smell.” 

“Okay. Dinner won’t be long, only about another 10 minutes maximum.”

“Alright. I’ll try not to be too long.” he winked before walking in the direction of the bathroom. 

I listened back to the conversation happening between Elijah and Hazel.

“But you said that basketballs can be customized to be rainbow. And that you’d get me one with my name on and everything. Even teach me how to play. And you still haven’t.”

“That was before. When my ways weren’t moral at all. I used to be a bad guy, like dad. The only difference between us is, I had a brother and a girl that’s very special to him, show me it’s not too late to be good before I was a copy of dad. So I’m not going to jail. Noah isn’t going back to jail. Ma will be around more often soon too. Things are only going to get better from now on. Okay, kiddo?”

I smiled softly as Hazel turned her head to look at me before looking back at her brother and breaking into a soft smile of her own. “So you’re a good guy now?”

“I’m at the very start. But it was the tortoise who won the race, wasn’t it?”

Hazel nodded with a smile and launched herself into Elijah’s arms. He looked over her shoulder at me and mouthed a “thank you” as tears glossed his eyes. And I knew he meant it. He was on the edge of no return when Noah, Mason, Samantha, Mack, and I found him in that warehouse that night. We could have made the total wrong decision giving him one last chance. But he wasn’t wasting it. It took for him getting severely injured for the danger of the lifestyle he was choosing to register in his mind. But I could tell he was truly sorry for all the pain he had caused. And I could tell that Ms. Harris was happy to have her eldest son back at home safe and away from being a criminal. Just as I was plating up dinner and Hazel was setting the table, Noah walked back into the kitchen, freshly showered and in some cleaner, more comfortable clothes. 

“Hey, Hazel?”

“Yes, Anna-Rose?”

“I could use your help quickly. Would you mind?”

“No, I’m coming!” she chimed and took my hand, following me to her bedroom. 

As we entered she immediately noticed the bag hanging on her door handle. “What’s in the bag?”

“Why don’t you go ahead and take a look?” 

“Okay…” Hazel cautioned as she opened the bag, taking out what was inside, screaming happily. “AH! ANNA-ROSE! HOW DID YOU KNOW I WANTED THIS?!” She abandoned the dress and headband in her bed and rushed into my arms hugging me tightly. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!” 

I chuckled as she hugged tighter before letting go. “Can you help me put it on?! I want to show Noah and Elijah how many heart’s I’m going to break when I grow up!” She enthused

“I don’t know about that.” I chuckled. “I think they might be a bit protective of you.” 

She gave me her best “and you think I care?” look before we burst into a fit of giggles. I helped her into her dress before disappearing into the bathroom and changing into my own. As we were inside, I didn’t bother with heeled booties as suggested. Instead I put in some fluffy black slippers and gave Hazel a matching pair, then together, we applied some lip gloss before rejoining the rest of the family for dinner. 

“Ohh Hazel! Look at you! You’re so pretty my sweet.” Ms. Harris cooed as she engulfed her in a hug, whilst Noah and Elijah gave me matching skeptical looks.

“What?”

“Do you know-”

“Are you aware-”

They stopped and looked at each other, mumbling an apology at each other. 

“Oh. I get it. You boys are jealous I got Hazel something and not you. Don’t worry. Elijah you’re after your mom who is next month and then Noah, you’re after Samantha, who is after Elijah.” I teased with my best poker face but couldn’t help but break out in a smile as Elijah failed to remain his own poker face beside me at Noah’s twitching eye.

“I’m teasing! Of course you’re next month with your mom. You two deserve something nice with all the hard work you do. I’ll send you details in the post.” I winked at Noah before taking my place between him and Hazel, Ms. Harris flashing me a kind smile. 

“Thank you so much for making us this meal Anna-Rose. I can’t express my gratitude enough.” 

“Your smile is all I need ma’am. Nothing more.” 

“Oh.” Ms. Harris replied as she choked back a sob. “Noah. Don’t you ever do anything foolish and lose this girl. Because I will personally rearrange your entire being myself.” She warned and Noah flashed a grin.

“Don’t worry ma. I don’t plan on it. She’s my everything. I wouldn’t- WE wouldn’t be where we are, had she not come into my life.” Noah reassured her, looking at me lovingly as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. 

“You’ve got to teach me the game Noah.” Elijah stated.

“What game?” He responded, his adoring gaze never leaving mine.

“The one of scoring a girl of my own with a heart of gold.”

“There is no game.” He said, a small smile gracing his features. “You just have to be your true self, give them your everything and let them know they have you, even if for a while you don’t have them. If they need space to figure out who they are for them to then figure out what they two of you could be. Give it to them. Because if you don’t. You’ll lose them. Forever.” 

I smiled back at Noah softly and gently reached up, swiping the tear from his cheek that left his eye and he voiced the alternative of what could’ve happened to us.

“Noah.” Hazel piped up.

“Yes, ballet master?” 

“You haven’t told Anna-Rose how pretty she looks. That’s really rude. Ma raised you better than that. Also. This pasta is delicious, thank you Anna-Rose.” 

Everyone chuckled at her bluntness as she chowed down on her food. 

“She’s right. I haven’t. You look stunningly gorgeous tonight babe. Thank you for the effort you’ve put in.”

Elijah piped up too. “Yes. Thank you Anna-Rose.” 

“Oh. Guys. It’s nothing, seriously. I just wanted to cook a nice meal for my family.” 

Elijah, Hazel and Ms. Harris froze mid-bite and looked at me. Elijah lowered his fork back to his plate before clearing his throat to speak.

“We- you- but you two aren’t-” he stuttered. 

Noah smirked. “How do you know?” He teased. 

“You didn’t…” Elijah gasped

“Maybe I did.”

“But she would have…”

“Not necessarily.”

“Bro, did you seriously…”

Noah was about to respond when their mom interjected.

“Noah, stop winding your brother up.” 

“Ah, maaa! You ruined the fun. Just look at his face!” Noah chuckled with a gleam in his eye. 

Elijah looked between the two of us for the rest of dinner, I could see the gears turning in his head. Trying to figure out if Noah had popped the question. Even though the answer right now was an obvious no. 

After dinner was done, Elijah offered to do the dishes whilst Ms. Harris announced she was off to bed, leaving myself, Hazel and Noah to take up the living room and watch movies whilst doing face masks. 

As the night wound on, I flooded my Pictagram stories with small videos and various pictures documenting our night. Being careful to stick to Ms. Harris’ rules of not showing off the location of their house. By 10:30pm Hazel was sound asleep on the couch, whilst Noah and I were snuggled on the floor under blankets. We were engrossed in a movie when Elijah stuck his head in the room startling us as he spoke up.

“Hey. Ma wanted m-”

“Ah!” I yelped quietly, Noah gasping beside me.

“Sorry.” Elijah apologized, “Ma asked me to check up on you three. She’s now going to sleep but could help but worry.”

“Oh. Well. Hazel’s asleep. And we were just finishing the movie before heading to be ourselves.” I explained.

“Okay. Let me carry her to bed. Oh, and Anna-Rose?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. Again. When are you going home to see your dad?” 

“Uhh… tomorrow. Why?” 

“Could I.. tag along? I owe him a massive thanks for risking his job to save my life.” 

I let the question hang in the air for a moment before smiling softly, “Sure. But… you’ll also owe him a profuse apology for leaving his daughters to get arrested for a crime they didn’t have any active part in.” 

“I… yeah. I do. I’ll work on it tonight. Noah?” He jerked his head at his younger brother. Noah raised a brow back at him. “Am I crashing in your room tonight?” 

“No. There’s 15 minutes of this movie left. You can settle on the couch and wait for us to leave, we won’t be long.” 

“Okay. Cool.” 

As the movie finished, I spared a glance over at Elijah who had rejoined us after putting Hazel to bed, and was now asleep on the couch. I felt my brow furrow with concern as I watched him flinch and whimper in his sleep, a cold sweat taking over him before he sat up with a shout, scaring Noah, who was putting the DVD’s away. 

“Hey. It’s alright. You’re okay. You’re safe.” I said softly, gently rubbing his back in circular motions.

“Wha- Where- …”

“You’re at home. With your family.”

He looked at me and his eyes widened in terror.

“You!” He exclaimed pointing an accusatory finger at me. “You’re lying about your full name. Noah doesn’t know it. He only knows the shortened version.”

Noah looked at Elijah suspiciously. “Hey. Are you… okay? What nightmare did you have this time.” 

“She’s a criminal Noah.”

“What? Elijah. She’s not. It was just a bad dream. Anna-Rose, can you grab a bottle of water from the fridge?”

“Sure.”

“No!” He yelled as I turned to leave the room. “She’ll poison it.” He whispered to Noah, earning a confused look in return. 

“Elijah. You’re being silly. Who do you think I am?” 

“The largest serial killer known to man.” 

“What? No. I’m Annabella Rosaline Marianne Price, 1st daughter to the late Sheila Price and her husband Dave Price. I’m a graduate of Eastridge High and am currently pursuing my passion of photography at The NYAI. I’m no murderer. I’m your brother's girlfriend. And I see you as family too. I helped make sure you survived a horrible attack. If I wanted you dead I would have left you.”

I looked on with a steel gaze towards Elijah despite Noah looking at me with his cute puppy dog face. Once Elijah came out of his trance and nodded I turned to Noah and raised a brow.

“What?” I asked softly.

“You’re full name.”

“What about it?”

“It explains why you’re so beautiful… Annabella Rosaline Marianne Price. The woman I will one day, make my wife. I- … Wow.” He whispered softly with a smile, which I gracefully returned.

“I’ll go get that water.” I said as Elijah cleared his throat reminding us of his presence.

--- The Next Day ---

As the sun beamed through the crack in Noah’s curtains, I stirred awake and turned to face the wall with a groan. It couldn’t be morning already could it? I smiled as I felt a soft tickle of breath against my neck followed by Noah’s voice.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He whispered in my ear and I could hear the smile on his face.

“Shhhhhh.” I said back, earning a small chuckle from him as he wrapped his arms around me and snuggled as close as possible. 

“We have a couple hours until we need to get up. How long do you wanna stay like this for?”

“Forever. You’re so warm and snuggly. I’m gonna miss you so much when I go back to New York.”

“I’m gonna miss you too. Though. I have a question.”

I opened my eyes as I turned to face him, his bright blue skies meeting my forest greens. “Shoot.”

“When moments are special. Like this one right now. Can I call you my Annabella?” He blushed.

I smiled at his cuteness. “Only if I can call youuuu…”

“Noah Maurice Harris?”

“What?”

“My middle name. It’s Maurice. After my late grandfather on ma’s side.”

I smiled for a moment bringing my hand to his face and cupping his jaw, caressing his cheek with a gentle thumb. I watched as he closed his eyes and inhaled, peace etching itself on every inch of his face. He somehow looked even more angelic this way than when he had his eyes open. 

“I don’t want to call you your full name. I just want to call you mine.” I whispered, placing a soft kiss on his forehead as his bedroom door opened. Ms. Harris poking her head inside, giving us a smile as she laid her eyes on us. 

“Good morning Anna-Rose. Morning Noah.”

“Morning Ms. Harris”

“Hi ma.”

“Oh. Anna-Rose. Thank you.”

“What for?” 

“I haven’t seen or heard my little baby so relaxed for years. You two truly are meant to be. Thank you for being a safe person for him.” She whispered, gently stroking Noah’s hair and we watched as a small smile crept onto his face. 

“Ma. You’re gonna seal the deal and put me back to sleep in a minute.” Noah smiled lazily and I chuckled softly as Ms. Harris smiled. 

“It’s… nothing Ms. Harris. I… I love him. He’s amazing. His past doesn’t define who he is at heart. A soft, sappy, kind, warm, loving, hopeless romantic. And… and someone who I can see my future with. I would trade what we’re starting to build for ourselves for anything in the world. You’re an amazing mother Ms. Harris. And it’s reflected in both Noah and Hazel. I’m hoping one day we’ll see it in Elijah too. I know it’s there. He just has to stop being afraid to let it shine through. Please never doubt yourself because every one of your kids has the purest of hearts, just like you.”

I reached out and took Ms. Harris’ hand in my own as she sniffled and a tear fell from her cheek onto the pillow beside Noah’s head. 

“I couldn’t ask for a better daughter-in-law than you Anna-Rose. You’ve done so much, not only for this one here but, for Hazel and you helped bring my other boy home. Things feel more complete now, and we have you to thank.” 

I smiled at her as we squeezed each other's hands in an understanding gratefulness. I was thanking her for bringing Noah into this world and she was thanking me for loving him despite the rumors and harsh things being said about him, for reaching deeply and seeing Noah within. Who he truly was. Our moment was interrupted as Elijah poked his head in. 

“Is he not up yet? We’re supposed to be leaving for our morning run in 5 minutes.” 

“Oh shut it Elijah. I’m in a moment of bliss. Go for the run on your own.” Noah slurred. Ms. Harris and I chuckled quietly as Elijah let out an exaggerated sigh with an eye roll before leaving. 

“Well, I popped in to remind you not to be late for work today Noah. And tell you your lunch is in the fridge. I need to be off to work myself. I’ll see you later.” She smiled and pressed a kiss to Noah’s temple and one to my forehead before collecting her bag from the floor and leaving, quietly shutting the door. 

After she had gone, Noah slowly opened his eyes and smiled at me. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. I just… thank you. For treating her so well. She means a lot to me and well… she’s the only parent I’ve got. If it wasn’t for her..”

“Hey! It’s okay. I… it’s been a while since I had a mother figure in my life. And well… your mom’s not exactly mean is she? She deserves the nice words, gifts, and love. To be cherished and shown how amazing she is. Plus. Being rude isn’t in my nature.” I whispered softly

He smiled back at me and I stroked his hair, sighing contently before pushing himself up. “I should join Elijah for our morning run. Then we can cuddle up again when I get back okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” I smiled, sharing a kiss with him before snuggling under his blankets and hugging his pillow.

“NOAH I'M LEAVING!” Elijah shouted.

“ONE MINUTE, I'M TYING MY SHOES!” Noah shouted back and gave me a wink as he pulled his shirt over his head, grabbing his shoes from the rack by the door and walking out. 

There wasn’t much to do whilst he was gone, but put the dishes away from last night's meal and have a shower myself. I was reading a book, coffee mug in hand when Hazel came into the room, plopping herself down next to me. 

“Good morning, Anna-Rose.”

“Good morning, Hazel. Can I get you breakfast?”

“Can you make pancakes?”

“I make the best pancakes. Shall we see if we have all the ingredients?” 

Hazel nodded and together we made pancakes before getting up and dressed. When the boys returned we were sitting watching TV. The rest of the day passed by how you would expect. We played board games and drew pictures, when Ms. Harris arrived home from work, Elijah, Noah, and myself set off for my dad’s house. When we arrived he received us with a warm welcome. Firstly Elijah apologized profusely to dad for the mess he got myself and Mack in. Then he apologized to Mack for even putting her in that position in the first place. By the end of the evening everything was smoothed over and starting to heal. The next morning Mason knocked on the door, he was taking me back to New York today. There were some things I needed to get before college started back up and it was gonna take a while. 

Elijah decided to make his own way back home but Noah was coming with us too. I’d promised him I’d show him the sights. As we travelled along the highway, I couldn’t help but feel sadness. Being miles away from your friends and boyfriend sucks. You just want to stay close forever and make a tone of memories together. But everyone has to lead a life of their own eventually. Mason was Noah’s ride back to Eastridge so he parked in the parking spot outside my dorm and the two helped me inside with my bags. After they were secured safely, I locked my dorm and we headed out to see the sights and go shopping. 

Eventually the part I had been dreading came and I teared up as I stood on my dorm doorstep with Noah, clutching his hands tightly in my own. 

“I wish you could stay.”

“I wish I could stay too. But we’re blessed with phones. We can hear each other daily.”

“It’s not the same as being able to hold you though.”

“I know. But we’ll see each other again over our next break.”

“Promise?”

“Wholeheartedly so, my sweet Annabella.” Noah whispered and I closed my eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead before pulling me into a tightened embrace. “Did you hug Mason goodbye?” He mumbled into my hair and I shook my head.

Noah turned to the car and motioned for Mason to join us. He walked over and cleared his throat.

“What’s wrong?”

“You haven’t hugged your friend goodbye. That’s pretty rude Mason.”

Mason sighed and looked at me, opening his arms and I dove into them, squeezing him tightly too. “I'm going to miss you. Have fun in the Navy.” 

“I will.”

I stepped back inside and waved goodbye, watching as Mason's car drove off into the distance. When I could no longer see it, I closed the door and climbed into bed. I had just settled when my phone pinged. Opening the message from Noah I chuckled. It was a goofy selfie of him and Mason pouting as they sat in traffic, captioned “We miss you already 😢” 

Sighing I sent a pouting selfie of my own back captioned “missing you guys too! 🥺😢💔”

Usually I found it hard to fall asleep being away from everyone, in a big city all on my own. But there was something different, I realized as I was drifting off to sleep that all I had to do was count my blessings.

[uwua3]

hi! first off, congrats on the new blog!! i read that misumi piece and i really enjoyed it hehe,, if it's alright, may i request some domestic fluff with kazunari? mayb looking over old photo albums of each other from when they were kids and laughing and telling stories about what happened in the photos? thank you very much and i hope u have a nice day :D

hi!!! this made me so happy 🥺 thank you so much, i hope to keep this blog running for a long time! also, i saw your reblog of my jealousy hcs and i wanted to say thank you for your sweet comments!!! i go back to it whenever i need motivation, you inspire me to keep writing ♡ thank you! i hope to continue making you proud as a writer :D <3

summary: kazunari had to stop living in the past and make new memories outside of his yearbooks with you

author’s note: this is definitely a much happier piece than my others! this was refreshing to write and i treasure it dearly, it’s definitely much more on the humorous side! no angst today, folks!!! (ok just a little, but it’s barely noticeable!)

this is just a little look into a hoarder named kazunari and his sentimental, nostalgic personality ♡ i, myself, am a marie kondo supporter so i love decluttering! if you are a hoarder like kazunari, honestly go you! you keep those knick knacks that remind you of memories! do whatever makes you the happiest :D

word count: 2,151

music: make you mine – public, tongue tied – grouplove (this song is so Kazunari !!!)

nostalgia.

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

it was that time of year again

kazunari hated spring cleaning with a passion. so what if his art supplies were all over the dorms? he knew where everything was! uh, mostly...

(if you ignore his daily panicked house searches which kept everyone up way too late if he couldn’t locate a very specific paint shade for a big project he definitely procrastinated)

so, it took, so much bribery to get kazunari to even consider cleaning out his entire dorm room

(muku was a very Good Boy and already had his side of the room perfectly dusted and organized)

yes, you had to promise to pose as a model for one of his paintings one day (hopefully, not the type of class you were thinking) (kazunari’s suggestive wink didn’t help)

the thing about kazunari was he was somewhat of a, putting it politely, hoarder

as an extremely sentimental person, it would take the whole mankai company to even force him to throw something away

(“no! it has a special meaning to me! i remember what happened when i got this~” kazunari would whine, holding the useless item between his hands with no intentions to ever look at it again)

so the boys employed you to be kazunari’s rational judgement when cleaning that day

(“please actually make him do something.” sakyo looked like he was on the border of begging; kazunari’s abundance of random knick knacks and shopaholic addiction problem was becoming an issue that affected everyone)

rule #1 of cleaning kazunari’s storage room: don’t open anything because kazunari will become very sentimental and nothing will get gone

so therefore, as a team, you two tackled the rather spotless room. the interior was minimal and modern, just like kazunari liked it with pops of color here and there

(he had one blank white wall and you realized it was the backdrop he used to film all his social media posts [dancing tik toks, fashion #ootds on instagram, daily vlogs on his growing youtube channel])

at first, you were confused where all his stuff went until you opened a closet against his terrible and unconvincing distractions

without time to react, you found yourself buried in tens of books you couldn’t even fathom how it all fit

(“i’ve played way too much tetris.” kazunari would admit later on when asked about his immaculate stacking)

“you’ve got to be kidding me!” you groaned, pushing your head above the surface of book covers that have either never been opened or were way too old to even be functionable

“i’m sorry~ please, forgive me!” kazunari pleaded, immediately pulling you out of his own mess and using all his cuteness to make you roll your eyes fondly at your best friend

you almost started ranting at him about the dangers of taking up too much closet space with useless items before you realized:

wait! stop! he’s trying to get you to forget about throwing these books out! you thought suddenly, crossing your arms as you stared at the pile, trying to figure out how to approach the situation

“you cannot distract me. we are going through this mound and you will be getting rid of something today.” you ordered, seeing his shoulders drop in defeat as he nodded solemnly, but accepting his fate without any arguments. thank god for that

you two bent down and organized all the books into categories. popular photography instruction guides, creative advice columns, and all his past art textbooks kazunari couldn’t sell were put into a seperate group because luckily, they were relevant to his art school

things like old newspapers with funny comics were recycled (you refused to let kazunari read them in fear of invoking some form of nostalgia) (also because he had the whackiest sense of humor ever and would die laughing)

it was going well, until you reached the thickest photo books of them all (you had almost forgotten what you and kazunari’s school mascot was)

but unsurprisingly, kazunari had every single yearbook from each year of his education all the way until his last year in high school piled high to his chest

even he looked somewhat shocked from his mass accumulation from his teen years

“ah! i’m so old now~ look at all this! what else can i do except die?!” kazunari dramatically flopped onto his bed, tired of lifting so much weight. hey! his arms weren’t meant for exercise, he was a painter!

lifting his head to see you were distracted from alphabetically sorting the first section lovingly dubbed, “art shit”, kazunari mischeviously grinned as he leaned down to snatch a random yearbook

flipping to a random page, kazunari smiled as he realized it was the first time he ever met you back in elementary

kazunari sang your name as he sat upwards, having a shit–eating look on his face as he started swinging his legs back and forth

oh no, he was up to something no good, you knew it but humored him anyways

“yes, kazu?” you turned your line of sight to the most horrible picture possible: you with the ugliest haircut in the entire world with kazunari’s black hair taking up the entire photo as you two sheepishly smiled for the camera. it was not a proud moment

okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad, you just couldn’t help but shriek at the sight of your hair

“oh my god! you can’t just jumpscare me like that!” you laughed despite yourself. you knew you had to be serious and focused on decluttering, but one look at your past made you remember all the good times before so–called “adulthood”

“look at your hair!” you cackled, reaching up to playfully yank at his mullet as he yelped and lightly smacked your hand away. rubbing the back of his neck, kazunari huffed childishly and pouted like he was back in his youth

“come on! this was the pinnacle moment i realized, i should not be a hair dresser.” kazunari commented, making you remember how you just let a random 8–year–old boy waddle up to you with safety scissors and advertise his salon business like a professional

(yes, you bought into it right away. your teacher had a heart attack when she saw you with a majority of your hair on the floor and kazunari keeping small talk like an actual hair stylist)

thinking back after the haircut incident, you weren’t allowed to chat with the funny class clown anymore as you were forced to wear a hat every day

(it was either that or go completely bald to fix the job kazunari did to your head)

it wasn’t until you received a very creative and colorful apology letter with tons of sad faces drawn with waxy crayons that you snuck out to play with him on the swings in recess

“i can’t believe we became friends because i wanted free hair cuts for the rest of my life.” you added, staring at the picture with a sense of nostalgia. you kinda got where kazunari was coming from, memories were fun to look at every once and a while

at least, eleven years worth of memories after being inseperable from that moment forward

(maybe, you should’ve held onto it, you thought, not knowing that would be the first of many art pieces you would be gifted by him)

kazunari knew he won. excited, he dropped down to lay on his stomach as you leaned against the bed, watching as he thumbed through the pages with ease, leaning his head on yours comfortably

it was rare to find kazunari quiet, he must’ve been like this all the time when going through his stuff, you thought, at peace for once

lazily smiling, kazunari put his finger against your yearbook pictures as he reminisced on the past. something about everyone ever in your grade, how kazunari knew everyone and had a special memory with each person, no matter how big or small

“—and here, the teacher somehow caught a pic of us swinging wayyy too high for kids our age!” kazunari laughed, breaking your train of thought as you snickered at the absolute joy radiating from both your faces as you two competed to see who could reach the clouds

(kazu won. you fell off right after and had to get picked up from your parents after badly scraping your knee. it took another sorry letter and art of you two holding hands with a heart for your parents to forgive kazunari)

“let’s go back.” you interrupted him, making him sit up confused as you swung your keys out from your back pocket. it didn’t take any convincing for kazunari to nod right away and took the elementary yearbook into his arm

you two only had to exchange a secret look before formulating a plan to sneak out, leaving music on from kazunari’s speakers to act like kazunari was still cleaning

you two giggled amongst yourselves before clambering into your car, speeding off and laughing loudly from your successful getaway. the manager was none the wiser!

during the short car ride, you and kazunari played your favorite mixtape of all time

(“you kept this?!” kazunari yelled, giddily bouncing up and down from excitement when he discovered the mixtape stash)

he slipped the disc in as you two yelled along to childhood favorites with the windows rolled down, letting the entire neighborhood know the best duo were back in town

(seriously, there were so many you stashed away in your glove department. all labeled in sharpie with compelling titles connected to the inside jokes only you two found funny)

arriving at the destination, you two exited the vehicle to see the play pen was abandoned as the teaching staff went home for the day

the sun was setting and it felt like the playground was in another rift of time as you approached it, hearing the weak movement of the swings going back and forth on their own. you sat down, holding onto the chains. you hadn’t been back ever since you graduated. it hadn’t changed at all

kazunari opened the elementary yearbook back to the original page, pulling out his tripod and phone he always had on hand in his backpack as he set it up right across the swing set

“what are you doing?” you inquired, tilting your head as he fumbled around pressing different buttons and filters too complex for you to remember

looking up, kazunari grinned as he set a timer for 10 seconds before sprinting back to the swing next to you

“swing contest right now! i bet i could swing higher than you ever could!” kazunari challenged childishly, quickly kicking his legs for the momentum. you narrowed your eyes, refusing to lose as you two laughed over the sound of his phone taking a burst of photos

you realized what he was doing. he was re–creating your memories together

but you turned to look at him and your heart skipped a beat. you never remembered him looking this, different, in the purple lighting. for a flashing moment, you swore you saw the silhoutte of his black–haired, child self sit next to you before you blinked and saw him. kazunari was the same, just older now

you slowed down your swing by dragging your sneakers against the wood chipped ground. you grabbed both the swings’ chains to hold them together

you didn’t want to live in the past anymore. you wanted to grow up with him, too

“what—” kazunari started, matching your pace before being cut off by your lips against his, the phone going off for one last time

you pulled yourself in close enough just to smile. he smelled the exact same as he did when he discovered cologne for the first time. he never changed

you pulled away first even if he tried leaning forward for more, like he was waiting all these years just for that one moment. like he saw you in the same light, too

“i wanted to do that for years.” you confessed, watching as he took your hand carefully, like he was afraid you were going to leave. for once, he didn’t know what to do, which face to show

“me too...” kazunari agreed, seemingly speechless before straightening his back, like he was about to run away. the hair on your neck stood up, what was he about to do?

“i promise i won’t cut your hair anymore, unless?” kazunari winked dramatically, mimicking the shape of scissors with his fingers as he tried snipping at your hair

he laughed as you shoved him with all your might, hopping off the swing to chase him throughout the school parking lot

now this was a memory kazunari would never throw away, no matter what

(no one thought the two of you escaped until kazunari posted the pics on his instagram, both of you getting a scolding from sakyo this time)

(busted!)

[jetsetlife138]

Imaginary - Chapter 5

Rating: Mature for this chapter, but Explicit in future chapters

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: A mysterious device throws you into the animated world of Hazbin Hotel. Once an average human living in a three-dimensional world, you’re now transformed into a two-dimensional human that has been cast into Hell. Pentagram City’s residents are curious and most harbor ill-will towards you. Charlie and the staff of the Happy Hotel take you in and offer you protection while they try and figure out how to return you to your world. That is… until you come across a certain Radio Demon with different intentions. Chapter Warnings: Manipulation 

Previous Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

It had been five days since your arrival in Hell and you were no closer to finding a way home than you were when you had first arrived. Charlie and the rest of the hotel staff were being as helpful as they could be, but it wasn’t easy running an entire hotel rehabilitation center on top of trying to find a way back to an alternate dimension. There was also the small fact that Charlie was the Princess of Hell and had regal duties to attend to on top of everything else. Still, you were grateful for whatever help they could provide.

Their methods of research were bizarre and not at all what you were expecting. The hotel had its very own library, filled with enough books to last you a lifetime of reading. Charlie had shown you sections of books based on travel, magic, and other strange things that were not the norm in your dimension. However, because magic was so common here, it was difficult to narrow down exactly what powerful source had brought you into Hell. The possibilities were endless.

Since you really didn’t know where to begin, you skimmed through a bunch of books to see if anything stuck out to you or jogged your memory. By day five, your head hurt, you were exhausted, and you felt utterly defeated. It felt like you hadn’t made any progress. 

However, it wasn’t all bad. The others kept you company while you read, though some more reluctantly than others. Oftentimes they assisted with sifting through the mess of books themselves. If you were being honest, sometimes having them around was more of a disturbance than an actual helpful resource, but it was a welcome distraction to ease the stress of the situation.

Charlie would randomly burst into song about whatever chapter she was reading about. Vaggie would make noises of disgust and complain about the grotesque history of Hell. Husk pretended to read through the books, when in actuality he would use the time to drink booze undisturbed and would eventually fall asleep, snoring loudly. Niffty, whom you had finally had a chance to meet, could never stay still long enough to read, and instead would start cleaning. Angel Dust just wouldn’t shut up about his sex life. 

Surprisingly, the only person who didn’t drive you crazy was Alastor. He had no problems sitting calmly with you and reading in silence. He wasn’t so much interested in the magic portion of the books as he was in the torture and carnage-filled sections. He was an enigma. 

Late one afternoon, the two of you were seated next to each other on the couch in the library. He was captivated by a book in another language with what seemed to be a sacrificial cow on the cover while you were reading about magical portals for the umpteenth time. 

No longer able to concentrate due to frustration, fatigue, and boredom, you closed the book and looked up at the Radio Demon. His normally taut and wide smile was relaxed into a closed-mouthed grin as he sat, relishing in whatever gruesome thing he was reading about from the twisted book in his hands.

Unaware of your staring, he failed to notice your gaze rising to the top of his head where two little antlers stood prominently next to two tufts of hair. “I can’t tell if that’s just the way your hair is styled, or if those are actually your ears,” you found yourself blurting out, focused on the pointed, furry shapes on top of his head. 

His crimson eyes flickered to you, seemingly unfazed by the interruption, though he remained eerily silent.

Nodding towards the top of his head for emphasis, you pressed further. “So? Which is it?”

“Curious little thing, aren’t we?” he mocked in a sickly sweet tone, baring his teeth in another smile. “Why do such things concern you?” 

Pursing your lips slightly and shrugging your shoulders, you replied, “Like you said… curiosity.” He released a short burst of laughter before turning his attention back to his book, not bothering to answer your question.

Unable to stop yourself, you asked, “Can I touch them?”

The look he gave you sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes flashed in what you could only assume was anger. For one brief moment, the corners of his mouth turned down into a scowl before it was quickly replaced with another toothy smile. “I don’t much care for that,” he answered, his heated gaze still focused on you. 

“You don’t much care for what? ...To be touched? You don’t like to be touched?” you found yourself babbling and repeating yourself, bemused by his statement. 

His lip curled slightly as he digested your words. “No. I do not.” 

Your face flushed with embarrassment as you looked down at your lap. What kind of person asks someone if you can just outright touch them? How intrusive, especially considering he apparently had an affliction with personal contact from other people, which honestly confused you after having recalled how many times you had seen him pressing himself against others. The past five days had allowed you to observe the strange residents inhabiting the hotel. While Charlie and Vaggie seemed to make the majority of decisions, Alastor seemed eerily quiet. He had kept his distance from you for the most part, which you assumed was either due to Charlie asking him nicely not to scare you off or Vaggie threatening to execute him like the badass that she was. He had an intriguing air about him in that he cared little for the opinions of others and simply did as he pleased. The demon seemed pretty docile in comparison to what you had seen the day he entered your mind, but you didn’t forget what he could quickly become at the drop of a hat. As much as you hated to admit it, he interested you the most out of anyone else. 

A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed between the two of you as you chewed your lip and drummed your fingers along the arm of the couch awkwardly. Not long after, Alastor relieved an annoyed sigh before he murmured, “Go on, then.” 

“What?”

Closing his book with a sharp snap , he set it down beside him, folding his hands together and turning to address you. “If it will satiate your incessant need to know what lays atop my head, you may touch me.”

Instead of immediately jumping at the chance, you resisted. “Um… that’s okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable just because I apparently have no sense of boundaries.”

“Darling,” he drawled, clearly amused by your reluctance. “You won’t get this opportunity again. Touch me.” 

His wording caused an involuntary hitch in your breath. You hesitated only for a moment, not wanting to miss out on what was clearly an exclusive invitation, which he didn’t often allow. His eyes fell to your mouth as you bit your bottom lip, causing him to smirk at your unease.

Quickly giving in, you sat up and kneeled on the sofa to get better access. Slowly, you reached for his head, careful to avoid the sharp tips of his antlers. 

Finally, your fingers came into contact with the top of his head. What you felt was difficult to describe. You never really thought about what animated hair would feel like. It felt very similar to actual hair, which mystified you. On top of that, his hair had an odd texture to it; wiry but soft, like actual fur, which made sense considering he was a zoomorphic being.

The intensity of his gaze felt hot against your skin as you continued to explore his mane, running your hand up along the part you were most curious about. The tall mounds on his head seemed to be a mix of ears and also hair. There weren’t any openings like a typical ear would have, but they were too stiff to be just hair.

“I still don’t know what these are,” you admitted, more to yourself than to him.

“Perhaps their purpose is simply to mystify. I was just drawn this way, I suppose,” he jested, playing off of your animation accusations. It was a concept that you had to explain to the hotel inhabitants over and over again.  Alastor was able to understand it more only because he had seen what your actual world looked like inside of your head. 

Ignoring his jab, you couldn’t stop yourself from continuing to explore the top of his head. You began to rub tenderly at a spot near the base of his ears. He then closed his eyes as your fingers worked against him. At first, you thought his eyes were closed due to disgust until you had noticed a low hum from deep in his throat. It sounded like an electrical current, but you soon determined that it had to be his own demonic version of a purr. Okay, that was fucking adorable.

“Very… peculiar,” you declared, finally retracting your hand and sitting back on the couch. 

“Are you satisfied, my dear?” he inquired with a subtle underlying meaning underneath.

“Not really,” you answered promptly. “But I’m not going to pet your head again, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

His grin widened as he chuckled, which sounded more like static feedback than an actual laugh.

Just as you were about to return to your book, he chimed, “My turn.”

Puzzled, you asked, “Uh.. for what?” 

“It’s only fair, don’t you think? You fondled me, now I get to inspect you. A little tit for tat, hmm?” 

Gawking at him, you tried to find the words to convey your panicked emotions at that moment. “Fondled?! I didn’t… I… I don’t… what?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “No reason to be nervous, sweetheart. I mean you no harm.”

His words of comfort only made you more anxious as you watched him lift himself from the couch and into a standing position. He then extended his arm and offered his hand for you to take with a wicked gleam in his eye.

Your hand was noticeably shaking as you rested it in his, allowing him to grasp it tightly as he pulled you from the couch and onto your wobbly legs. What was happening? Why was he making you so nervous? He had even told you before that if he wanted to hurt you, he would have done so by now. He hadn’t shown any prior aggression towards you, and he had been nothing but docile for the past few days. Why were you suddenly so nervous? 

Interrupting your internal turmoil, the demon stepped closer, bringing you back to the situation at hand rather than letting you get lost in your thoughts. His eyes flickered across your body from your head to your feet, his smile widening even further.

He then gently grasped a bit of your hair and twirled it slowly around his fingers, seemingly fascinated by its movement. Once he was finished, he stepped behind you. Instead of following him, you stood still, your nerves locking up your joints and preventing you from moving.

The tip of his finger rested along your right shoulder before he slowly dragged it across your back onto your left shoulder. The action caused your entire body to tremble, giving you goosebumps. 

“Calm yourself,” he whispered in your ear, making you even more nervous.

Returning to your line of view, he was once again in front of you. Swallowing thickly, you narrowed your eyes as his hands gripped your hips, bringing you closer. He then trailed a slender finger along your collarbone, down to your sternum and to the top of your breasts. 

His piercing red eyes shot up to gauge your reaction, but you managed to keep your expression neutral and your breathing even as he smirked and continued to explore.

Guiding the palms of his hands alongside your breasts, he used his thumb to lightly brush over your hardened peaks, not bothering to linger before moving on. “Quite fascinating,” he huffed, clearly enamored with you.

Were you seriously letting this thing touch your breasts? Why couldn’t you move? Why were you stuck like a deer in the headlights? Punch him! Kick him! Do something!

Unaware of your inner turmoil, he continued to grace his gloved hands further and lower until one of his hands abruptly cupped your sex, and you couldn’t take it anymore. Slapping his hand away, you barked, “That’s enough.” Narrowing his eyes, he seemed positively giddy, which infuriated you even more. “Something the matter, dear?” “You’re crazier than I thought if you think groping my crotch is the equivalent of touching your ears!” “My, my,” he scolded disapprovingly. “Such crude language is not very becoming of a precious thing like yourself. Your request was quite an intimate one. It’s only fair that it should be met with one of equal fervor, wouldn’t you agree?” “No! I would absolutely not agree! You’re delusional!” 

Cackling, he snapped his fingers and his staff appeared next to him, which he used to balance on as he eyed you with an amused expression. “I assure you, my dear. I have no nefarious intent with your body. Merely your mind.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” you barked back, simultaneously embarrassed and insulted. 

He took a step closer to you, placing a finger under your chin to lift your face to meet his, which he seemed to like to do often to signify his power over you. Your initial reaction was to smack it away, but his gaze held you captive as you hung onto every word that he said. “It means, my dear girl… that you’re mine.”

Tags: @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @edgy-drama-queen @chasingfireflies1999 @galaxy-meteor @cecidit-31 @shadowclawstudio88 @utterly-disappointing @opheliuva @trinswhimsys @skylarhedges

[deku-leaf]

tangled up - part 3 - “can i have some?” kirishima x reader, bakugo x reader

part 1 | part 2

author’s note: the second half of this is literally just reader being very sleepy and cute in front of kiribaku and tododeku. not sorry.

warnings: scars, swearing, fluff, reader uses she/her pronouns

word count: 2,511

summary: y/n is sleepy and her friends want to help her figure out why her quirk is being mean to her :(

-

You fidget uncomfortably at your desk as your classmates bombard you with questions. From the second you walked in, Denki, Mina, and Mineta have been gawking at you and asking about your night in the nurse’s office. The rest of your classmates are looking on curiously from their seats, but aren’t invading your personal space and asking invasive questions like these three.

“Is your butt okay? Does it hurt to sit down?”

“Did Recovery Girl have to kiss your ass?”

“Oh, what about your...hoo-hah?”

Suddenly one of your other classmates speaks up. “Guys, I really...don’t think Y/N wants to answer any of those questions. Maybe leave her alone for a second.”

You smile sheepishly as Denki and Mina shuffle away, mumbling apologies. Mineta sighs deeply and returns to his desk without a word. You look over at Kirishima, the one who defended you, and feel a blush threaten to creep onto your cheeks, remembering your out-of-character behavior in the nurse’s office yesterday. “Thank you,” you mouth. Kirishima smiles widely. He’s definitely also thinking about the nurse’s office. You quickly look to the front of the room as your cheeks heat up fully. 

You’ve never...flirted with Kirishima like you did while on pain medication yesterday. He’s one of your closest friends at UA, and yeah, he makes you really happy. And while you’ve always thought he’s really handsome, you’ve never blushed like this because of him. And you’ve certainly never even considered making a move. But is playing with his hair even a move? Maybe it wasn’t flirting. You’re probably just overthinking it-

“Alright class.” You’re pulled out of your thoughts by Mr. Aizawa taking his place at the front of the room. “I hope your training yesterday was illuminating. To start today’s class, I’d like you to get together with your training partner from yesterday and discuss your combat. Analyze each other’s techniques, where improvements could be made, all that. I’m taking a nap. Have at it.”

You sigh. The last thing you want to do is discuss yesterday. You glance down at your legs as you stand up. Luckily, none of the smaller cuts on your arms and legs had scarred as you thought they might. However, your feet and hips are a different story. And, yes, your butt. You pull your skirt down a bit, attempting to cover the welt-like scars that peeked out from the top of your thighs. You chose to wear long socks today on purpose, thankful that they cover the scars around your feet that travel up as far as the base of your shins and calves.

You make your way over to Bakugo’s desk and plop down in the vacant seat next to him.

“So.” He side-eyes you. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. He can’t possibly be more disappointed in your lack of quirk control than you already are. He has a right to be angry with you, for once. “I know.”

“...but do you, though?”

You furrow your eyebrows and glare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean? I feel bad enough already, I don’t need your attitude.”

“Yeah? You feel bad?” He turns to meet your gaze, feeding off your evident annoyance. “That sucks. But what are you gonna do about it?”

Though your instinct is to bark some catty reply back at him, you pause, considering his phrasing. He’s not attacking you like you thought he was. He’s actually asking.

He continues. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and figure out what the hell is happening with your quirk. It’s not gonna get any better if you just sit there and pout about it.”

“I’m not pouting,” you retort. He opens his mouth to argue but you interrupt. “And I’m in the process of figuring it out. Stop making assumptions about me.” To your surprise, he doesn’t respond. He just grunts and turns to the book on his desk, reading aggressively. 

You’re relieved that you don’t have to defend yourself anymore. In truth, his assumptions were completely right. You hadn’t even begun to look into why your quirk backfired so suddenly and violently. It’s only been one day, after all. You’re still in shock and recovering mentally. But Bakugo would see that as an excuse if you told him. 

“Sorry,” you hear him mumble from next to you, face still buried in his book.

Did Bakugo Katsuki just apologize?

You decide to not make a big deal out of it. If you did, he might never apologize to anyone ever again. 

“That’s okay,” you say quietly, studying his face while he reads. “You have a point.”

He looks over at you from his book. “Damn right,” he says, leaning back in his chair, stretching. “Plus, I’ve never seen your quirk that powerful. Ever. If you could somehow harness that…” He stops talking as his eyes flash down to the hem of your skirt and back up to your face. Your stomach drops. Katsuki was never a guy who had wandering eyes like that. Was he flirting or did something catch his eye…?

You glance down at the hem of your skirt, where his gaze had landed briefly, and see that some of your scars on your upper thigh are exposed. They’re still a bit angry and red looking, as Recovery Girl just healed you early this morning. You pull your skirt down again and bite the inside of your cheek as you look back up at Bakugo. His eyes are a little more sympathetic. 

“Sucks,” is all he says. But you know he’s expressing his condolences. 

The rest of class breezes by. By the end of it, you’re feeling extremely fatigued - you could feel the effects of Recovery Girl’s quirk. When she uses her quirk on someone, she uses their own body’s energy to accelerate the natural healing process, often leading to exhaustion in her patients. As Aizawa dismisses the class, you rise to your feet slowly, dreading the walk back to the dorm. You wish you could curl up right here and go to sleep.

“Not looking so yolked today.” You roll your eyes at Kirishima who’s waiting up for you at the front of the room, as he often does. Grabbing your backpack, you follow him out of the room. 

“How you doing?” He asks genuinely this time. You glance over as you walk, meeting his eyes. 

“Tired,” you say. Every step is a struggle. “But it could’ve been worse.” 

“Yeah,” Kirishima says, hesitantly. “What actually happened there? Bakugo didn’t really tell me anything — I know you said it was your quirk but — how did it happen?”

“It was crazy,” you start, and Kirishima visibly relaxes at your willingness to share. He clearly doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but still seems concerned and curious about your wellbeing. “We were just sparring normally - I was kicking his ass, of course - and,” you have to pause as Kirishima snickers loudly. “And then my vines grabbed me. From the ground. And they started pulling me under, fast. Bakugo had to yank me out before I got buried.”

“Damn,” said a different voice. You turn to see Jirou walking on your other side, with Tokoyami alongside her. “Sorry to intrude,” Jirou continues, “but that sounds terrifying. Have you tried using your quirk since?” “Hell no. I’ve been avoiding the grass all morning.”

Tokoyami looks thoughtful. “You know, Y/N, I have experience with a quirk that is - we’ll say, difficult to control. Not always cooperative, putting it lightly. Perhaps I could be of some help to you? If and when you’re comfortable with outside assistance, that is.”

Your eyes widen at Tokoyami. “Yes. Yes, please, I’ll absorb any and all wisdom you have to offer.” 

“Um, if we’re talking about not having control of your quirk,” Izuku Midoriya pipes up from behind you, “I think I’m qualified to speak on that as well.”

You smile knowingly over your shoulder at him. “Thanks, Midoriya.” Kirishima pats you on the back roughly in support. You’re finally starting to feel a bit of relief from the stress of having your quirk backfire. You have friends who are there for you, some who have been through something similar, and are willing to discuss things openly with you. You’re actually looking forward to getting to the bottom of this issue, now. Like Bakugo was suggesting, it’s not going to get better if you avoid the problem. Time to face it head on.

But first, a nap.

Your small group enters the dorms and you immediately make a beeline for the common area couch, pulling ahead of your classmates. The only other person in the room is Todoroki, curled up with a textbook on one end of the sectional. You drop your backpack and collapse face down onto the other end of the couch, groaning quietly as you allow your muscles to relax. You close your eyes and turn your head to the side so your cheek rests on the soft fabric. You hear your group of friends catch up to you and feel a bit more movement on the couch as they settle in around you. Normally, you wouldn’t take up this much room on the couch when there were other people who wanted to sit, but you can’t bring yourself to care right now. You fall asleep within minutes to the sounds of quiet chatter, backpacks unzipping, and snack wrappers crinkling. The last thing that registers in your brain is the feeling of a warm, soft blanket being gently placed on top of you.

--

“...she had quite a long day didn’t she?”

“Yeah. She must be tired from Recovery Girl’s quirk. I remember sleeping for like 16 hours after she healed my broken arms for the first time. It really wipes you out.”

“I seem to recall hearing it was your legs too.”

“R-right, heh.”

“I think I’ll share my homework notes with her when she wakes up.”

“Yeah, me too. Maybe we can all sit down and-- Oh, is she…?”

As you stretch yourself awake, you feel something pressing into the top of your head. Or rather, you were pressing into something with the top of your head. Something warm. It was a person, you were pushing your head up against another person like a sleepy cat.

You open your eyes to be greeted by Midoriya’s friendly face looking down at you, slightly amused. It’s the side of his thigh that you’ve been gently headbutting. “Oh- Sorry Midoriya-” You draw back instantly, sitting up in a daze. “I was...so asleep.”

You glance around the room and notice that there are fewer people around than there were earlier. You distinctly remember hearing Jiro and Kirishima fighting over pretzels just before you fell asleep, but now there was only you, Midoriya, and Todoroki on the couch. 

“It’s okay. You looked like you needed the rest. Sorry if we woke you up.” You blink at Midoriya as he speaks, still not completely awake yet. He giggles when you don’t respond, and points at his cheek. “Y/N, you- You’ve got the couch pattern on your face.” You mirror his gesture on your own face and feel the bumpy ridges that now populate your cheek. Todoroki raises his eyes from his book and his lips twitch into a small smile.

“Oh,” you say at length. You feel your own mouth stretch into a smile as Midoriya continues to laugh. You’re so out of it. How long have you been asleep?

“Hey, that’s exactly what Y/N looked like last night when she was drugged up in the nurse’s office!”

You turn to see Kirishima and Bakugo enter the room with a bowl of popcorn and some sports drinks. Kirishima is grinning from ear to ear as he takes in your disheveled appearance, and Bakugo looks bored as usual - but he quirks an eyebrow at you. Why’s he doing that? Have you been staring at him for too long? Wait - any amount of staring is weird, right? You’re too sleepy for this. What is happening.

“What’re you looking at, nerd?” There’s a hint of a smile on Bakugo’s face as he says this. You finally wrench your gaze away from his face and down to the bowl in his hand - an escape.

“Can I have some?”

Kirishima bursts into laughter as he plops down on the floor a few feet from you. “Oh my god. Y/N, I will never get over how adorable you are when you’re sleepy.” You frown at him as you feel a slight blush creep onto your cheeks. 

Sitting up a little straighter, you open your mouth to protest. But before you can get any words out, there’s a piece of popcorn sitting on your tongue. Bakugo inserts himself roughly between you and Midoriya on the couch and places the popcorn bowl on your blanketed lap. “Go nuts,” he says. You chew the popcorn and curl yourself over the bowl, grabbing another piece. The warmth radiating from the bottom of the bowl is comforting. Almost as comforting as the warmth from Katsuki’s leg pressing against yours. It doesn’t mean anything, though - his other leg is pressed against Midoriya’s in exactly the same way. He just wants a seat on the couch, and your brain is being creepy. You gotta stop with that.

Todoroki speaks up suddenly from his spot on the opposite end of the sectional. “I’d like some popcorn, too, if you have another bowl, or-” A fistfull of popcorn pelts Todoroki in the face. Bakugo smiles widely at him, brushing his salty hand off on the side of his pants.

“That enough?”

Todoroki gingerly picks up a kernel from his now popcorn-covered lap and pops it into his mouth. “Yes, thank you,” he says, returning his attention to his book.

“So.” Your attention is pulled back to Kirishima, who is looking at you seriously. “Earlier today, it seemed like you wanted to talk more about your quirk.” You felt Bakugo turn his head to look at you sidelong. He hadn’t been there for that conversation. Kirishima continues, reaching to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl on your lap. “Do you still wanna?” Kirishima looks so innocent, his eyes sparkling at you with curiosity. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t want to be a bummer to everyone’s night with my problems…” you mumble, dropping your gaze to the floor. 

“You are not a bummer.” Your eyes meet Kiri’s again and he scoots towards you a bit as he speaks. “Like, what happened to you yesterday was really scary. And what would be a bummer is if that ever happened again. But talking about it and letting your friends help you is not being a bummer. It’d actually be in everyone’s best interest.”

Your eyes and throat sting at your friend’s words. “Yeah,” you croak before any tears can form. “Yeah okay, please help me.”

And that’s how you and four boys from your class end up outside the dorms just before sunset, picking a fight with Mother Nature.

-

part 4 coming soon!

tag list: @asja-the-hoarder​, @melancholicsthings​, @baby-ur-my-hyperfixation

[lemonyellowlogic]

the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun: chapter eight

-o-

first

previous

-o-

chapter eight: the conversation

After dinner that night, the four Alimagians and Roman relaxed in the living room, Emile cuddled up to Remy’s side on the couch (where Roman slept) as the three teenagers sat around. 

Emile was asleep, his wings puffed out around himself and Remy as Remy ran their hands through their soft feathers. Virgil lay curled up in a little ball on his favorite love seat, dozing as Roman read a book on the floor, leaning back onto Virgil’s feet. Diego just stared at Roman, eyes narrowed but his teeth gnawing on his lip.

Roman sighed, looking up at the merperson who startled as he realized Roman knew he had been staring at him.

“Look,” Roman said quietly as to not disturb the others slumber, “I don’t know if I have personally done something wrong to offend you, but if I have, I am truly sorry. And I’m sorry about the river this afternoon, it was an accident, but,” Roman looked him in the eyes, “I literally have no clue what I could've done directly to you to cause this anger and hatred. Please, for the love of anything, can we at least try to put away this...rivalry until I leave, because I won’t be here forever.”

Diego looked at him in silence, an eyebrow quirking, “Why aren’t you planning on staying?”

Roman’s heart started beating faster at the sound of Diego’s voice and the fact that the merperson was actually speaking to him, and he quietly said, “Well, no matter how my family feels about it, I need to return home eventually.”

“Your family?”

Roman sighed, “I’m not comfortable going into detail about it with you, since you’ve obviously shown you hate me throughout this past week.”

The room grew quiet after Roman said that, enough time for Roman to open back up his book of Alimagian folk tales and begin reading it again when Diego spoke again, causing Roman to drop the book, “I don’t hate you.”

The clatter of the book had Emile groaning, digging his face deeper into Remy’s shoulder. Roman winced, “Apologies. But, what do you mean that you don’t hate me?”

“I mean that I don’t hate you,” The scaled boy stared at his feet, his arms crossed across his chest, “You haven’t done anything to me, but I still have...resentment towards humans. It’s nothing to do with you as a person, just your race.”

Roman’s eyebrows shot up, but fell again as he thought deeper. What happened to Diego to cause this sort of...resentment?

“Care to explain further?”

“I...hmm.” Diego hummed, thinking about it, but flinching as Virgil snored loudly.

“Fine.” Diego whispered, looking at his sleeping family, “I’ll tell you, but come with me. I don’t want them to wake up.”

Diego stood up and Roman followed, leaving his book on the floor next to Virgil and following Diego into his room. Diego sat on his bed, cross-legged while Roman awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, arms clasped behind his back. 

The room was extremely clean, with mustard walls. It was small, with his bed in the corner of the room and a desk next to it, but it was cozy, the lantern next to his bed coloring the room a soft gold.

Diego sighed, patting the bed next to him and scooting over so Roman could sit down, which he did.

Diego lay back his arms behind his head, and he sighed, “I've been thinking about this for a while. Well, the past week. I know you as a person have nothing to do with the royal family or their views,” Roman winced, “But just seeing a human...just...scares me.”

Roman’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “I scare you?”

“Of course you do. You’re a built human who could break me in half and can run back to your village and accuse all of us of kidnapping and have us literally executed.”

“I’d never-”

“I know, I can tell. But I’m still nervous. I can see that Emile and Virgil like you, and you’re starting to grow on Remy, and that makes me mad. Emile and Remy have never been in a situation where their lives were in danger by a human, Emile having grown up in one of those avian villages in the mountains and Remy in a village full of mages and being able to pass as a human, but Virgil has. And that just...hurt me, to see my closest friend turn on me and defend someone who could kill us all? I lashed out, and I shouldn't've.”

Roman looked at the boy, who stared up at the ceiling, not looking at Roman but his face red.

“It’s...okay. If I was in your situation, I’d be upset too. But,” Roman bit at his lip, ”Why are you telling me all of this?”

Diego sighed, sitting up and looking at Roman, “Because Virgil told me I should try to talk to you and I trust him.”

Roman smiled, thinking of the sleeping boy in the other room, the thought of him making Roman’s cheeks start to involuntarily burn. He  shook his head, looking back to Diego with a grin, “You two fight often?”

Diego grinned back, golden eyes shining in the candlelight, “Very, Remy and Emile have to separate us almost every week, but we don’t care. We’re...close, but not too close that I can’t just punch him when I know he’s being an idiot, and for him to do the same.”

Roman nodded, the room falling into comfortable silence as Roman laid back next to the merperson. They breathed together, the room quiet, punctuated only by Virgil snores from the other room.

“Why do you hate the royal family so much?”

Diego flinched, rolling over to look at Roman, who looked back at him, purposeful malice not in his eyes. Diego sighed, sitting up, “Guess.”

Roman’s brow furrowed with slight annoyance but he held it in, “I don’t know, Diego.”

Diego smiled a little smile, empty of humor and anything normally found in a grin, “They’re murderers. They killed my father.”

Roman choked on his own spit, shooting up, ���What?”

Diego sighed, his painful smile fading. He bit his lip, running his hand through his curly hair and breaking the curls, turning the section he touched into a frizzy mess, but he didn't seem to care,”I never met him, it was before I was born.”

He looked back at Roman, who nodded for him to continue, eyes wide.

Diego sighed again, staring at his legs and fidgeting with his hands, “My mother was a human, my father a merperson. They fell in love and whatever, and my mother got pregnant with me. She told her best friend, who didn’t keep her damn mouth shut,” He hissed out, but then took a breath and continued quieter, “News of a merperson ‘invading’ a human village spread to our guards, who spread it to the capitol and then to King Augustus.” 

Roman flinched at his father’s name, asking quietly, “What did he do?” 

Diego tensed, “He had our towns guards take him and execute him in our village square to make an example of him, to show Alimagians to never try to cross over again.”

The room was quiet and Roman sighed, his heart heavy with guilt even though he was only an infant when it happened, “Goodness, D-”

“My mother then had me, and she celebrated that I looked human,” Diego cut Roman off, his words coming out harsher and quicker, “She tried scaring me to never try shifting, even though I could, because she was too scared of me dying, but she just made me hate myself.

“Then, when I was ten, she died. It was a sickness of sorts she couldn’t get over, and I went to an orphanage, because everyone thought I was an evil child. They’d heard rumors of my father, and decided I had to be evil because of him.

“It was lonely, but I met another merperson whose family was traveling through the river next to us. I had to swim miles to see him each day, but it was worth it. But then, his pod had to keep going, and I’ve never seen him again.”

Roman hummed, and Diego continued talking, laying back down, “I didn’t used to have these scales on my face, but they're just a thing for merpeople. You can have them anywhere, and I have some also going down my sides and arms. When they came in, they were easier to hide, but the ones on my face weren’t.

“I was around thirteen, and everytime one popped up on my face, I’d pull it out, terrified that the other children would see them. But then, one day a kid walked into the bathroom as I did it and he saw my scales.”

Diego took a breath, tears popping into his eyes, “He screamed in horror, and ran. I panicked, grabbing all of my things, shoving them into a bag, and running away.”

The room was silent, Diego’s wobbly voice whispering, “I didn’t want to be murdered, and so I swam up the river, past the border and into Alimagan. I lived by myself for a few months, surviving on fish and stealing from villages, until Emile and Remy found me. They thought I was a drowned kid in a river before I woke up, and they took me in, letting me travel with them.

“Eventually, we found Virgil, and they decided we should settle down, and so we four built this cottage together, and we’ve been living here for three years now.”

Diego wiped his eyes, and looked at Roman, his eyes red and his cheeks burning with vulnerability, “That’s why I hate humans. I was raised as one, but I shouldn’t’ve. If the king had never murdered my father, I would've been able to learn how to be a merperson, but I lost that chance. They tore it away from me, and the only things I know are what I taught myself and what Patton helped me learn.”

Roman stared at Diego, his eyes burning as well. Diego let out a gasp of surprise as Roman threw himself at him, wrapping his arms around the merperson and holding him tightly. Diego froze for a moment, before wrapping his arms around the human, burying his face in his shoulder as little sobs escaped his mouth.

“I’m sorry, Diego. I’m so sorry for what he did. But I promise you, I promise that I will never hurt you. Even after I leave, I will never tell anyone what happened, and I will never tell anyone your story, I promise.”

Diego nodded into Roman’s shoulder, and they sat there holding each other until Diego passed out. Roman didn’t know what to do afterwards, with his arms full of emotionally and literally tired merperson, and so he shrugged, laying down with Diego in his arms and falling asleep. Remy and Emile were already in his bed anyways.

-o-

next

masterpost

[everysongineverykey]

WARNING! LEGACY SPOILERS!!

The table came crashing onto the floor with a smashing of wood and a scream, the owner of whom was difficult to identify. Tam, the person who had thrown it, threw up his hands in angry defense.

“For the last time, a hot dog is not a fucking sandwich!” he yelled, his eyes ablaze with fury.

Sophie furiously scrambled to her feet. No. He wasn’t going to have the last word. Not on her watch.

“IF A HOT DOG ISN’T A SANDWICH, THEN BIANA’S NOT A VANISHER, YOU… YOU…” she fumbled for a good insult.

“Crusty, silver-eating, bad rip-off of a hot topic clerk?” Keefe suggested helpfully.

“YEAH!” Sophie screamed. “AND IF YOU CAN’T UNDERSTAND BASIC LOGIC, THEN LET’S LOOK IN THE ELF!” She strode to the bookshelf and pulled out The Elf’s Comprehensive Dictionary And Thesaurus, Approved And Created By Councillor Bronte, Language Enthusiast, or TECDATAACBCBLE officially. Or again, as an easier name the ten of them had made up themselves, The Elf.

“By the power vested in me by The Elf’s Comprehensive Dictionary And Thesaurus, Approved And Created By Councillor-” (“Just say The Elf!” whined Marella) “-Bronte, Language Enthusiast,” Sophie continued angrily, flipping through The Elf’s many pages, “I hereby pronounce that a hot dog shall henceforth be known by all the Lost Cities as a form of sandwich, as proven by… THIS DEFINITION!”

She slammed the book down onto the couch and triumphantly stabbed a finger at the definition of “sandwich.” Linh bent her head and read it out loud-

“An item of food consisting of two pieces of bread with meat, cheese, or other filling between them, usually as a light meal.”

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. For a second Tam looked like he was moments away from grabbing Sophie, who was now sitting smugly on the couch staring at him, and throttling the life out of her and everyone else in the room.

And then he sighed and closed his eyes, smiling slowly when he opened them again.

“All right, Sophie. You’ve given me some very solid proof. Well done you.”

Sophie looked so smug that even Keefe wanted to wipe that stupid smile off her face.

Tam walked calmly, almost happily, over to the far corner of the room, and turned around, admiring a painting on the wall. Then he suddenly turned to the others again and smiled with the air- at least, Sophie thought so- of a TV movie villain who was about to reveal his secret identity to the heroes.

“It was very clever, you know, pulling out The Elf like that. I don’t know if I would’ve thought of that. A real kid genius, that’s you.” He said all this while straightening a few ornaments on the mantelpiece absentmindedly, not looking at any of them. Still smiling. “I suppose now I should admit defeat.”

“That’d be appropriate, yes,” said Sophie, still smug, but more cautious. She didn’t like the way Tam was acting.

“But,” he continued, finally turning to face them, “I’m afraid there’s one crucial fact you’ve overlooked.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

Tam picked up The Elf and flipped to a different page.

“You see, my dear Sophie, if we are using The Elf as our source, then we must heed all its definitions, and if we do that, we must remember…”

He suddenly exploded, shoving The Elf in Sophie’s face and pointing to another definition, his face convulsed with anger, his previous attitude vanished without a trace.

“THAT IT DEFINES A HOT DOG AS A FUCKING FRANKFURTER!”

He threw The Elf across the room, shattering an expensive vase sitting on a shelf. Sophie leapt to her feet, angry and flustered.

“But- But that doesn’t mean anything!” she blustered desperately. “A frankfurter could be considered filling!”

“OH FUCKING REALLY?” Tam demanded. He knew he had the upper hand. “THEN LET’S ASK THE ELF, SHALL WE?” He raced towards the shelf where the book had been thrown, but Sophie was determined to win the argument and threw her entire body weight on him, knocking them both to the floor. A mad fistfight followed. Dex managed to avoid their flailing limbs and picked up the book calmly, flipping to the f section.

“GUYS!” he yelled. Sophie and Tam did not look up. Tam had two black eyes by now, and Sophie was struggling to avoid another punch to her split lip. Dex was pretty sure he also saw a gap in her teeth that wasn’t there the day before.

He gave up trying to get their attention, and read out the definition of frankfurter. 

“A seasoned smoked sausage made of beef and pork.”

Silence. The only sounds that could be heard were the sounds of Tam and Sophie’s bloody brawl.

“Well, that didn’t solve anything,” grumbled Dex, closing The Elf. Suddenly, Biana’s eyes lit up.

“Wait a minute- hey, Sophie?”

Sophie did not answer.

“Tam? Sophie? Guys?”

Neither of them paid any attention to her calls- they were both battered and bruised all over, but still fighting.

Biana sighed, then walked over to Dex.

“Dex,” she said, calmly and professionally, “on the count of three, would you be a dear and hold Sophie down? I’ll grab Tam.”

Dex acquiesced. 

At the number, they both dropped to the ground and grabbed their assigned person’s arms- Dex hooked his around Sophie’s, stopping her from punching, and Biana did the same with Tam.

“What the hell’re you doing?” growled Sophie. Her hair was disheveled, and some of it had clearly been ripped out in chunks.

“There’s no need for this anymore,” Biana said, remaining as calm and collected as ever. “I’ve figured it out.”

They both stopped resisting.

“Fihured wha ou?” said Tam. Clearly his bruised tongue was giving him trouble.

“I know what a hot dog is.”

The room fell silent again.

“Now, if you’ll both get up and stop fighting, I’ll explain.”

They both reluctantly got to their feet and stumbled over to the couch. The others stared at them, a little scared. Biana stood up and cleared her throat.

“The Elf defines a sandwich as two pieces of bread with filling between them. A hot dog bun, however, is only one piece of bread.”

Sophie’s first instinct was to jump to her feet, but she controlled herself.

“Therefore, we must conclude that a hot dog… is not a sandwich.”

Sophie did not control herself this time. Biana put a hand up to stop her. Surprisingly enough, it worked.

Tam looked like a seven-year-old who had just proven that his dad was the coolest.

“In fact,” continued Biana, “it is something entirely different.”

Everyone raised their eyebrows.

“But- but what else could it possibly be?” asked a confused Wylie.

“It’s a taco,” said Biana, with all the foolish confidence of Don Quixote.

All of the others turned furious eyes on her, and in a matter of seconds Biana was down on the floor being beaten and battered by the rest of the kids, who were all chanting “NOT A TACO! NOT A TACO! NOT A TACO!”

Marella set a poker on fire and was about to beat Biana with it when the door opened.

“Hey, everyone, sorry I’m-”

Fitz couldn’t even finish his sentence when he beheld the scene before him. Keefe raced towards him and pinned him to the wall.

“Quick!” growled Keefe, “What’s a hotdog?”

All eyes were on Fitz.

“…Isn’t it that thing with the sausage in the bun that you usually eat for breakfast?”

Grady and Edaline came home that day to find the entire house destroyed, Marella hurling fireballs at everyone, Fitz and Biana lying unconscious in  the rubble, Linh trying to drown everyone, Tam unleashing shadowflux, Wylie burning people with the light of a million suns, Sophie inflicting all manner of pain onto her friends, Keefe throwing goblin throwing stars left and right, and Dex shooting all kinds of guns and using all kinds of weapons that he himself had built. Keefe had been heard to yell “MY MOM’S IN THE FUCKING NEVERSEEN, BITCHES, DON’T FUCK WITH ME!” while Linh seemed to be speaking some ancient sea language that was definitely summoning krakens as she chanted. Sophie might have been speaking in biblical tongues, but it wasn’t clear. Her voice was strangled and confusing. She was definitely being possessed, though, by… something. Marella was chanting in the ancient tongue of Pyrana, the great elven goddess of fire and fury, and was summoning what looked to be demons. The krakens and the demons began to fight at this point. Wylie, meanwhile, appeared to be pulling actual stars out of the sky and throwing them at people, screaming, “MY DAD DIDN’T ALMOST DIE FOR THIS SHIT!” 

Dex was just singing Survivor’s Eye of the Tiger very loudly.

They were all exiled to an Atlantian prison colony in the Mariana Trench a couple days later, and they never did come to an agreement over the identity of a hot dog.

[swiss-cheeze]

Eye Contact

(Walter Hartright x reader)

Stacking cards against one another in a game of her own Solitaire (Y/n) thought of whatever came to mind, one of Laura's latest paintings, Walter walking to his carriage for a quick trip to the markets on his own, Sir Percival and whatever he was reading in the study; but nothing seemed to stop her twitching and aching finger tips. Something had to preoccupy her hands or she would be going mad.

"Come on (Y/n), dinner is meant to be ready soon and you're stuck here playing with a deck of cards" Emeline said, (Y/n) sighed before reluctantly arising from her seating and walking over to the long table in the middle of the kitchen, adorned with roasted vegetables, a roast and some sides; (Y/n) starts cleaning some of the plates that had been draining on their respectable racks.

"Remind me again why we took this job" she muttered softly while looking into the reflection of the polished china.

"Because it was the only one at the time that paid well enough for us to keep our necks" Emeline said with a grin as the girl came to stand next to (Y/n) and started helping with the cutlery.

"'Paid well' my love?" (Y/n) asked looking at Emeline with a grin, "at this point with Mister Hartright here we won't get paid't all" Emeline rolled her eyes and smiled.

"If it's something my love then it's worth the rest" Emeline said, she tucked the cloth into her aprons skirts as she walked away with the cutlery stationed in her hands. (Y/n) soon followed-suit with (what she oh-so hoped) the correct amount of plates and bowls. Entering the dining room was always a wicked thing for (Y/n), there was a strict rule of not making eye contact with anyone but the other servants in the dining room. Walking around the table (Y/n) placed a plate in front of each person as Emeline added the cutlery and some other servants put down glasses and gave wine; the worst thing about being the one to give out the plates and bowls meant you had to do two rounds around the table. This just meant that the price of messing up or smashing a piece of fine china double at a rapid rate; especially with the shaking hands that could accompany with the second round. (Y/n) kept her gaze down as she placed a bowl on the right upper corner of each person's placemat for easy access. A minute passed as (Y/n) walked to the standing servants with her head held low.

"Leave us" Sir Percival said with a flick of his wrist, Walter faltered slightly as he wanted to thank the servants for plating and serving the dinner but as quick as he batted an eye, they had left.

(Y/n) let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding as her back hit the kitchen door, the cool wood calmed her down a bit and helped the tightness of the corset confiding her middle section, "come on (Y/n), we have to help with dessert" Emeline said as both girls walked off to help prepare dessert.

Walter gazed around the table as everyone made light conversation, Laura however, stayed petite and quiet, "Miss Fairlie I can't help my own mind wondering as why you're so quiet" Walter asked leaning over the dining table to keep the conversation low. Laura looked up in a little shock at being addressed before answer Walter.

"I'm just letting my mind wander is all, dangerous thing to do I guess but I can't stop myself" Laura said a little disappointed.

"Dangerous to let the mind wander? I think it would be best to let it walk its own path and stretch its legs" Walter said smartly, trying to uplift Laura's undertone state; a small quirk of the lady's lips came up and that was all Walter needed to feel a little happier.

A small bell chimed, signalling dessert.

The servants came out once again holding trays of cakes and jellies, ices and nuts and fruits; still looking down and avoiding all eye contact.

A girl bent over on Walters left side and put down a tray adorned with fluffy cakes, the girl started to reach her arm back to walk away but bumped a discarded napkin onto the floor, a small pardon came from the girl as she bent at the knees and handed back the napkin between two fingers, still avoiding eye contact Walter held the napkin but didn't let it go, as everyone was being served or having more wine or drinks he looked at the girl, "why is it you all avoid eye contact?" in a low whisper so as to not frighten the girl.

(Y/n) froze as she was asked a question by Mister Hartright, her gaze slowly and hesitantly lifted and finally connected with his. Green eyes like sapphires, piercing blades of grass, dew drops and beautiful blots of paint on a fresh canvas. Her mouth opened and closed like a suffocating fish, she had to be quick and short, "because it's a rule we all must abide by" her voice came out barely a hoarse whisper.

"Was it Sir Percival?" Walter asked but was met only with a gasp and he lost all eye contact with the girl as her gaze dropped to the floor again. A servant was behind her tugging harshly at her hand to get back into line; which she quickly obliged and fell into line just before being told to leave again, Walters eyes followed the girl as she trudged along with the servants back to the depths of the kitchens and servants quarters before getting pulled into some conversation and dessert.

Early morning adorned the next day, (Y/n)'s day off, the girl stretched happily in her bed as the sun shone through the open windows and curtains, she had ended up sleeping in a few hours extra then her normal daily wake up time. Emeline still had this working day before her retirement for the next so (Y/n) had time to herself. Making her way from bed to her cupboard the girl grabbed a beautiful maroon frilled dress that had the skirt going straight down instead of puffed like normal, the shoulders leant off of her collarbones and the sleeves ended in points in the middle of her hands; it was the dress she favoured most. Tying her hair into a side plait she slipped the dressed over her head and her curves, not bothering with her corset; it was considered in decent for most people but those who didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

Being done with her clothing (Y/n) walked happily to the kitchen, grabbed an apple and headed on her way; book in hand, boots clunking against whatever it touched only silencing as she stepped onto the green grass and kept going. Through the forest trees and across the small hills before coming to an old and beaten down bridge; her favourite spot in the grounds running over a quiet river, frozen in winter and quiet in the spring, harsh in the summer and dried in the autumn. But it was still her favourite spot no matter. Sitting down on the edge of the wall of the bridge (Y/n) chomped into her apple viciously and opened the book, letting it rest in her lap as she read the words; loosing herself in the words and her imagination for lord knows how long, that is until Walter came too.

"You should be careful when sitting on bridges miss" Walter said loudly from the end of the bridge, it was a long ascending and was actually rather small but the height was enough to break a bone had she have fallen if it wasn't for Walters arms catching her from her fright. The girl had jumped when she heard Walters voice, the half-eaten apple almost flew out of her grasp as she started to fall backwards to her demise before Walter had caught. Those green eyes had caught her again, "with that fright I suggest getting off the bridge" he said matter-of-factly. (Y/n) simply nodded with a quirk of the lips as she slid from the wall and landed softly on her feet, Walters arms where still wrapped around her waist, "you're the napkin girl from last night aren't you?" he asked with crossed eyebrows. (Y/n) curtly nodded holding her book and apple close to her chest.

"That I am Mister Hartright" she said softly. It was her day off but the servants gaze dropped to the tie around Walters's neck; not making eye contact like before.

"Please look at me, you're off duty I presume" he said as (Y/n) gulped.

"That I also am Mister Hartright" she said a little more strongly, "but I don't believe you would want to be caught with your arms wrapped around a mere servants un-corseted waist" (Y/n) said and Walter immediately left the girls waist and returned back to his sides as a meek red tint covered his neck and cheeks.

"Apologies" muttered Walter as he was the one now to not give eye contact. (Y/n) looked up to the man with smiled softly.

"Eye contact is rather improper for someone of your stature Mister Hartright" she said smartly, Walter grinned as he looked back to the girl finally catching each other's eyes.

"Yes well, it isn't serving time now so eye contact is very much appreciated" Walter said with a grin as he shuffled on his feet slightly. (Y/n) let a small smile cover her face.

"Mister Hartright what are you doing out here in the middle of the grounds' forest when you could be dining in the drawing room with a nice glass of brandy?" (Y/n) asked as she lent on the wall before quickly shutting her mouth and going to bring her hand up to cover it, "I'm sorry, I spoke out of turn" the girl muttered, again avoiding eye contact. Walter joined (Y/n) and lent his forearms on the stone cobble bridge wall with a small grin.

"Please, we're in private, the most I can ask you is to drop the formalities for a few moments on your precious day off" Walter said looking out to the river.

"I cannot promise such perfection but I will try my best" (Y/n) said with a grin. The girl finally remembered about the apple and book in her hands, "do you mind if I continue my breakfast?" she asked gesturing to the, now slightly browning, apple. Walter shook his head as he looked from the apple to the girl.

"Not at all no" he said before looking at the book, "may i?" he asked pointing to the blue hardcover book. (Y/n) shook her head as she took a bite from her apple and handed over the book. Walter turned the book and looked at the front and back before looking at the spine, "Moby-Dick?" he asked looking at the girl with a quirked eyebrow. She shrugged.

"People say it isn't good but I normally say to try it first" (Y/n) said with a slight shrug of the shoulders, "it isn't at all bad really, a man is at sea to vanquish a giant beast for taking his leg; what more could you wish for?" she asked with a chuckle, Walter chuckled in return.

"Rather thin though isn't it?" he asked flipping the book over again and going through some of the pages.

"Some of the best works of art are the smallest Mister Hartright" the girl said happily with a grin and Walter could tell she would be someone to keep around. Walter nodded.

"I told you to drop the formalities" he said with a cocky grin.

"Apologies" the girl said, "but you never really did give me your name" she said holding a hand over her mouth to cover if food came out.

"Walter" Walter said, the boy was hesitant at first but then held out his hand for (Y/n) to shake. Which she did and nodded curtly.

"Walter" she repeated. Walter felt a trickled go down his spine at the sound of his name coming from the girl in front of him. Walter quickly took his hand away (possibly a little too quickly) and turned back to the book in his hands before flipping to a random page.

"'It is the horrible texture of a fabric that should be woven of ships' cables and hawsers. A Polar wind blows through it, and birds of prey hover over it.'" Walter read aloud, "Sounds compelling?" he asked more of a question then anything else which made (Y/n) chuckle.

"It's more interesting and compelling then you would first think" (Y/n) said with a grin, the girl went to take the book back from Walters grasp but he moved to fast away, "oh come on".

"I'm rather intrigued with this book now, mind if I steal it from you for a small while?" Walter asked with a cocky grin, (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

"Walter please May I have my book back?" (Y/n) asked with her palm turned up but Walter started walking backwards away from the girl.

"I'm gonna steal it for a little while" he said with a smile, (Y/n) sighed before grinning.

"You are lucky Mister Walter" (Y/n) said as she stood still on the bridge and Walter moved back slowly.

"How so?!" Walter asked, voice raised slightly due to the little distance.

"Your eyes" (Y/n) said as she started walking in the opposite direction to Walter.

"W-wait! You got my name, in return can I have yours?" Walter asked, he had jogged to the bridge so they wouldn't have to yell but his voice was still raised a little, (Y/n) turned around and walked backwards facing Walter.

"It's (L/n). (Y/N) (L/n)" she said with a large smile before turning around and briskly walking away, throwing her apple into the grass to decompose.

Walter looked on to where (Y/n) was walking away, "(Y/n) (L/n)" he muttered under his breath with a small smile, "(Y/n)..." he paused, "(L/n)". Walter hit the book in his hand a few times with a grin before walking away and heading back to his room.

————

Thinking of making this into a small story

[amarits]

Are We There Yet?

Summary:

Bruce does not look forward to traveling with his ever-growing menagerie of children

Also on Ao3

***

Tim was a quiet child. He always had been, ever since Janet dropped him off at barely a year old and he didn't even ask where his mother had gone. Most of the time it worried Bruce. When traveling, it was a blessing.

Cameras clicked around them as he stood near their gate with Tim propped on one hip and his phone in his other hand, talking Chinese sales with the European marketing team. He was so many levels deep in the conversation that he’d lost the thread, but he kept answering questions and spouting figures in the hopes that they could all move on with their lives.

He’d had primary custody of Tim for over a year now (sole custody, really, except for when Janet deigned to make an appearance) and the tabloids still hadn’t gotten over it. They ran any picture they could get of Bruce and Tim with headlines like, “America’s Most Eligible Bachelor Turned Single Dad?” It was ridiculous. Tim wasn’t even his first kid, but apparently the media found it much more likely that he’d father kids than that he’d raise them.

First class was supposed to be boarding by now. He tilted the arm holding Tim to check his watch, and Tim shifted easily with the movement. He was perfectly content to just sit there and watch the crowd. A little bit of jostling had never bothered him. Sometimes Bruce thought it was because he was a good kid. Sometimes he thought it was because there was something wrong with him. He didn’t actually know anything about raising a child. He’d managed, with far more of Alfred’s help than he liked to admit, but there were still so many little things he was sure he was doing wrong. Dick had never been quiet like this, that he was sure of. He tried to spend as much time with Dick as he could, even with the kid’s constant international touring, and at two Dick had talked so much he could have powered all of Gotham with the sound of his voice. Tim was just… quiet.

Now the European marketing team was asking about the budget for steel in South America. This couldn’t possibly be important to their jobs.

“I’m afraid the plane is boarding,” he said, even though it wasn’t. “Email me any further questions you have and I’ll address them when we land.” That was a dangerous invitation, but hopefully they’d sort through their questions and only send the ones they actually needed answers to.

According to the flight board they were still on schedule, but he didn’t think there was even a plane out there.

He really should stick to chartered flights, but a certain nosy reporter kept accusing him of damaging the environment. Commercial flights were more environmentally friendly, especially for international travel, and made him look more down to Earth, but he hated the lack of control. He and Tim were supposed to see Dick’s show two hours after landing. That should be plenty of wiggle room, but if the flight was late and customs took longer than expected, they could miss it.

He sighed loudly. Beside him, Tim echoed his sigh a bit more dramatically than Bruce thought his own had been. Bruce looked down at him and Tim looked back with a serious expression that Bruce thought probably mirrored his. Oh boy. Bruce didn’t think mimicking him encouraged healthy behavior. He forced himself to smile.

“Are you looking forward to seeing your brother?” Bruce asked.

“Yes,” Tim replied in a voice much too serious for the conversation.

“Are you looking forward to seeing the clowns?”

“No,” Tim replied in an equally serious voice. Bruce thought that was fair. He had never liked clowns either.

“Do you want to play a game?”

Tim nodded and Bruce looked around for something that could entertain a toddler. He vaguely remembered his own parents playing games with him when they traveled. There were societal expectations for how Waynes should behave when in public, but in private they could be as loud or boisterous as they wanted. His lips twinged at the memory. They would have known what to do with Tim.

Tim was watching him expectantly, so he said, echoing a memory of his mother playing in his mind, “I spy with my little eye, something that starts with…” Wait, Tim couldn’t spell yet. “Something that’s the color red,” he amended.

Tim studiously inspected the gate’s waiting area, his eyes narrowed. After a minute of him silently searching, Bruce said, “It’s okay to guess. It doesn’t have to be right.” Tim gave him a scandalized look like he’d suggested eating the dog. Bruce was doing something wrong with this kid, he just knew it.

Bruce let him continue to search for another two minutes until Tim said with absolute certainty, “The bag,” pointing at a blue bag with red birds scattered across it.

“That’s right, champ,” Bruce said quietly, rustling his hair. Tim beamed proudly.

“First class can now board,” the hostess said.

Thank god, Bruce thought, checking his watch. They were only ten minutes behind schedule. They’d make the show.  

They were the first ones on the plane. He settled Tim into a chair almost three times as big as he was. Tim immediately shifted over to watch out the window even though the only things out there were baggers loading the plane. His eyes flit back and forth, following their movements. Bruce put his bag of picture books next to him on the seat. Tim could entertain himself, Bruce knew. He did it for hours while Bruce was working on cases or reading files for work, calmly sitting in a corner staring at pictures in books he couldn’t read yet. Bruce knew he should be doing more, but he didn’t know how.

Visiting Dick would be good for Tim. For both of them.

***

At four, Tim was still the perfect flyer. He was quiet, calm, and content to stay right by Bruce’s side.

Dick was not.

“Get down from there,” Bruce said sternly. He did not yell. Yelling was for bad parents. He sternly, and very loudly, just so Dick could hear, told him to get down.

Dick pouted down at him from his perch on top of the flight board like Bruce was the worst villain he had ever encountered.

“I’m serious, Richard.” Dick hated the name Richard. Calling him that was a more successful punishment than grounding.

Dick grumbled but climbed down. They weren’t even halfway to their gate yet. He definitely needed to start exclusively flying private. His heart wasn’t made for this.

They made it another few steps before Dick started walking on his hands instead of his feet. Bruce could hear the clicks of cameras surrounding them but he’d long since given up on keeping his kids out of the media, and Dick loved the attention. Bruce thought it was half the reason he acted out. At least if he was walking on his hands, he wasn’t getting into trouble.

Dick flipped forward onto his feet. “I’m bored,” he whined. Bruce knew he was bored. He was always bored. Dick could be doing five things at once, one of which was life threatening, and still be bored.

“Okay,” he said. “I spy with my little eye—”

“A burger place!” Dick said, swerving towards a dingy looking restaurant near their gate. “Can we get burgers?”

Bruce picked Tim up, bag and all, and followed. “There will be food on the plane.”

“But I want burgers.”

Bruce sat Tim at one of the few tables surrounding the burger counter. It was one of those places that you ordered and got your food at the counter and took it to the table yourself. Not exactly his normal scene. Dick was already studying the menu with the concentration of a stock trader though, so Bruce resigned himself to cheap diner food. Tim pulled a book out of his bag and started flipping through it. He was such a good kid. So easy.

Bruce approached Dick at the counter. “Do you know what you want?”

“A triple bacon and onion bbq burger,” Dick said. “Or the one with a fried egg and hash browns on it.” Bruce’s stomach twisted at the very idea. “Yeah, let’s do that one.”

Bruce didn’t know having children would test him like this. He pulled out his wallet and said to the cashier, “One—” he winced “—Breakfast on Beef Burger.”

“No, you have to get two,” Dick said. “One for you too.”

“I’m not going to eat that.” It was possible that if a villain held Gotham hostage in exchange for him eating a Breakfast on Beef Burger, Gotham would fall.

“You need to be more adventurous,” Dick insisted. “Two,” he told the cashier. She obediently rung it up. Bruce was quickly losing control of the situation if she thought Dick was the authority here.

“I’m plenty adventurous.”

“No way. You even manage to make jumping off buildings boring with all your rules and regulations.” Bruce side-eyed the cashier, but she looked like someone thoroughly used to ten-year-olds saying weird things.

“You can get two burgers if you will eat two, but I’m not eating any.”

“We’ll see,” Dick singsonged as Bruce paid.

They hadn’t even waited one minute before Dick got distracted by something else. “Is that a Disney store?” he asked, going from standstill to a full sprint in a split second.

“Dick, come back here!” Bruce called, following quickly behind him. Dick was already inside, browsing through the stuffed animals.

“Look at all of these, Dad,” he said, voice awed. There were rows of Dumbos, Tramps, Stitches, Nemos, Simbas, and Tiggers. “I need at least one of each.”

“You need no such thing,” Bruce said, trailing behind him as he walked down the row. He knew Dick wasn’t serious. He’d always been willing to give Dick whatever he wanted, but Dick hadn’t wanted much. When he was with the circus there wasn’t room, and he’d brought the minimalist lifestyle with him when he left. Of everyone in the manor, he was the one who could most easily pack everything and leave, Alfred included.

Dick put on a tiara as they passed through the clothing section. “Board games!” he exclaimed. “Disney Monopoly, look.”

“We already have Gotham Monopoly.”

“Yeah, but that’s just depressing. All the tiles are like, abandoned fairgrounds and murder dock.”

“That’s not true.” Actually, Wayne Enterprises was one of the properties. It always amused him when one of the kids got it.

“You’d rather have Disney Monopoly, right Tim?” Dick asked.

There was a silence as they both turned to the empty spot behind them.

“Where’s Tim?” Dick asked.

Bruce’s heart froze in his chest and he raced back out of the store. It hadn’t been long, but there were more than a few people who would happily snatch a Wayne kid.

Tim was still sitting at the burger table, his book closed neatly in front of him. The cashier was leaning over the table talking to him, and Tim pointed as Bruce approached. “There he is.”

Bruce flushed. The cashier seemed nice enough, but he just knew this was going to end up on her blog or Twitter and be on the evening news by tonight. “Thank you,” he said, picking up Tim. She smiled in response and held out his bag of burgers. He’d entirely forgotten about that. Less important than forgetting his four-year-old, but still. He was losing his mind.

“Where’s Dick?” Tim asked.

Bruce turned around. Dick hadn’t followed him. Of course Dick hadn’t followed him. He didn’t know why he thought Dick would. He jogged back towards the Disney store. He thought he heard the cashier giggling behind him. At least most people would assume this was more ditzy Brucie stuff, but he did at least try to look like a good dad.

Dick wasn’t at the Disney board games. Bruce almost had a heart attack before he saw Dick playing in a large castle with a couple of other kids.

He slumped into a Queen-of-Hearts-style throne. “I have your burgers, Dick,” he called.

“I’m good!” Dick called back, climbing the side of the castle. “You eat them.”

By the time he managed to herd both children to the plane, they were the last to board. They had two seats on one side of the aisle, and one on the other side. He hesitated. Logically, he should sit with Tim, who was younger, but Dick was far more likely to wander off if left to his own devices. He was certain he shouldn’t let the four-year-old sit on his own though, no matter how well-behaved he was.

“You two take the seats together,” he told them, making a snap decision. Dick was good with Tim, and he always behaved better when given responsibility.

“You hear that, Timmy? We get to hang out,” Dick said, leading him to the seats. Tim looked a mix of cautiously excited and concerned. Bruce understood, he thought tiredly as he sat down. Dick could be overwhelming.

When they got settled, Tim took out one of his books. “Whatcha reading?” Dick asked, scooting over into Tim’s chair. They didn’t quite fit and Tim was squeezed tightly between Dick and the side of the chair.

“Dick!” he whined.

“Sorry, here,” Dick said, lifting Tim so he was half seated in Dick’s lap. Tim was only a foot shorter than Dick, and the position looked awkward. Bruce watched them carefully in case he needed to step in, but Tim settled down as Dick held Tim’s book in front of them. “Let’s read together.”

Bruce knew the flight attendants wouldn’t let them stay like that when it was time for the plane to take off, but for now they looked content. Tim cuddled against Dick’s chest as Dick started to read the book out loud, dramatically acting out the dialogue.

This was a great idea. Maybe Bruce could even take a nap.

The second he closed his eyes he was plagued with visions of Dick climbing into the baggage compartment and doing backflips in the aisle.

Or not.

***

Bruce counted his children again to make sure they were all there. One, two, three. When did he get three children? How did this happen?

Dick was drifting towards a shop. “Stay by my side,” Bruce said.

“I’m seventeen,” Dick replied. His tone was scandalized, but he wasn’t fooling Bruce. Bruce had been doing this for years, and it all went to hell the moment Dick started wandering.

“Yes,” he said, “and keep your seventeen-year-old butt by my side.”

Tim and Jason were walking together a few steps behind them. He could probably trust them to stay out of trouble. Unlike Dick, who was now two feet away. “Richard,” he said.

“Seventeen!” Dick repeated.

“It’s okay,” Tim said, tone comforting. Bruce glanced back at them, but he and Jason seemed fine.

He just needed to get everyone to the plane without any distractions, detours, or disasters. He handled worse things than this on the average night.

Dick eyed a nearby story with more interest than Bruce approved of. It wasn’t even a good store. Just one of those schlocky trinket stores that popped up in every airport.

“It’s okay,” Tim said again. Bruce looked back sharply. Tim and Jason were walking down the center of the hallway. There weren’t any strangers near them. They had their bags. They were staying away from the shops. His gaze caught on Jason’s fingers where they were tapping rapidly against his leg.

“I should get something for Babs,” Dick said, veering to the side.

“No.” Bruce grabbed Dick’s sleeve before he could walk more than a few steps.

“I’m just going to be a minute,” Dick insisted. “I’m old enough to be on my own for one minute.”

It echoed a number of arguments they’d had in recent months, as Dick fought for an independence Bruce wasn’t quite ready to give him. This wasn’t about that though. This was about actually making their flight. “We should stay together. You can get her something later.”

“It’s okay,” Tim said. Bruce spun around. Jason’s fingers were rapidly tapping. His shoulders were hunched up. His face was locked in a scowl.

“Are you scared of flying?” Bruce asked.

“Of course not! Why would you think that?” Jason asked. “And if I was, it wouldn't be embarrassing. Not everyone grew up jet-setting around the world, you know. Some of us didn’t even have enough money for a bike.”

“Do you want a bike?” Bruce asked.

“What? That’s not even... Shut up.”

“It’s okay to be scared of flying, Jason.” He hoped that was the right thing to say. Jason was as likely to snap at him for some perceived insult as he was to take it as the comfort it was meant to be. More likely, actually.

“Dick left,” Tim said. Bruce spun around. Sure enough, Dick was no longer beside him. He breathed in slowly through his teeth.

“Do you think you two can go ahead to the gate?” he asked. “I need to wrangle your brother.”

“He’s seventeen,” Jason said with a tone of disbelief. He didn’t know better. He hadn’t traveled with Dick before.

“He’s a menace,” Bruce replied.

“Come on,” Tim said, tugging Jason towards the gate. “Would it help if I explained how planes work?”

“I know how planes work, Tim,” Jason said. “It’s not how planes work that’s the problem.” But he followed without complaint. Bruce watched to make sure they kept going the right way before heading towards the tourist trap Dick had been eying. He found him looking at gaudy plastic ornaments of Gotham’s skyline.

“Shouldn’t you wait until we actually leave Gotham to buy souvenirs?” he asked.

“Look at this, Dad,” Dick said, holding up a snow globe ornament with a floating yellow bat signal drifting alongside the snow. “I need one. I need one for all of my friends.” He tilted his full body to look behind Bruce. “How’d you lose the kids already?”

“I sent them ahead to the gate.”

Dick looked aghast. “Wait, you trust them by themselves and not me? I’m seventeen!”

“You’re a seventeen-year-old who missed a flight to Baghdad last month despite being in the airport the whole time.”

“I caught up!”

“And how will you explain ‘catching up’ to your brothers?”

Dick snorted but put the snow globe back and followed Bruce out of the store. “There is more than one flight. You know that right?”

Jason and Tim were sitting in chairs near the gate. They’d managed to get there without issue.

“So the wings make the air go down which makes the plane go up,” Tim was saying as they approached, using broad hand gestures that did nothing to illustrate his point.

“I’m less comfortable with how flying works than I was before.”

Tim looked frustrated. “I’m not explaining it well.”

“No, I get it,” Jason said. “The wings create weather magic.”

“That’s not at all what I’m saying,” Tim whined.

“The plane’s a meta. That makes sense. Does Superman also fly by creating weather magic?”

Bruce was ninety percent sure Jason was messing with Tim. It was heartwarming, actually. Jason was starting to feel enough like part of the family to tease his little brother.

While they devolved into an argument about how Superman flew, he approached the podium. “Is first class boarding yet?” The sooner all of his children were actually on the plane, the sooner he could relax.

“We’re just starting now, sir!” the chipper woman behind the podium said. He gave her his most charming smile to make up for whatever disaster his children were likely to cause.

“Come on, boys,” he called back to the bickering… well, they weren’t all teenagers yet. Oh, god. Tim would turn thirteen before Dick turned twenty. He was going to have three teenagers at once.

“Wait, why are we boarding before everyone else?” Jason asked, eying the crowd of seated passengers.

“First class boards first,” Bruce told him. Jason stiffened and Bruce could feel the argument coming like a shift in the winds. He picked up Jason’s abandoned bag and started down the gangway, trying to at least get on the plane before the inevitable explosion happened.

Jason, thankfully, miraculously, followed. “I don’t want to fly first class. That’s for rich assholes.”

“We’re rich assholes,” Tim said.

“Language,” Bruce said mildly.

“He said it first!” Tim exclaimed with the righteous anger of a kid that got away with far fewer curse words than his dirty-mouthed brother. It was a fair complaint, but Bruce had to fight too many other battles with Jason to worry about his gratuitous use of profanity right now.

“I’m not a rich asshole,” Jason said. Tim gave Bruce a look like ‘aren’t you going to say something?’ then scowled when he didn’t.

“Which part do you disagree with?” Tim asked. “Rich or a-hole?” He emphasized a-hole and shot Bruce a dirty look. Bruce did feel bad. He’d talk to Tim later. He was a smart kid. He’d understand.

Jason floundered with an answer as they entered the cabin before finally saying, “I might be rich now and an asshole, but I’m not a rich asshole. It’s different.”

“How,” Tim asked, his curiosity overwhelming his annoyance for now.

“It’s about what you do with the money. I mean, look at this,” he said, standing in the curtained doorway between first class and coach, where the difference between the two was most stark. First class had large, lush reclining chairs with plenty of legroom, large screen TV’s for each seat, and privacy walls that could be pulled up. Bruce didn’t even think he could fit in a seat in coach. “We’re not better. We shouldn’t get preferential treatment.”

“It’s not about being better,” Bruce said. “If you pay more, you get more. That’s true for anything. Food, lodging, clothes.”

“It’s such a waste of money,” Jason said, scowling at the seats as if their comfort levels offended him.

“We have the money. I don’t see why we shouldn’t spend it.” He knew it was the wrong thing to say when he said it, but he honestly wasn’t sure why. Jason was sensitive about money, having grown up without it. Bruce ached when he thought of all of the things his son had been denied, and that he still denied himself because of it. He’d think Jason would just be grateful to have money now, but instead he always insisted they should have less.

“Then we should give it to people who actually need it!” Jason exclaimed. “Do you know what… what… how much did this cost for the four of us? Three-thousand dollars? Do you know what that could do for a family?”

The total cost of their tickets had been over twenty-thousand, but Bruce didn’t think correcting him would go over well. “We donate a significant amount to charity every year. Denying ourselves wouldn’t result in more money for charity.”

“Well, why not?” Jason asked. “What if every time we were going to fly first class, we got normal tickets instead and you donated the difference to charity?”

“Actually, every time we fly, Dad says we’re going to charter a private plane next time.” Dick said cheerfully.

Jason looked horrified. “I won’t do it. You take the private plane. I’ll fly coach by myself.”

Tim had already settled into a window seat, but he leaned around the barrier to snap a picture of Jason.

“Tim!” Jason exclaimed.

“It’s your first time flying,” Tim said unapologetically. “It should be memorialized.”

“What did we say about asking permission before taking pictures?” Jason asked storming over to him.

“If I asked permission first, I wouldn’t get genuine emotion.”

“Genuine emotion like shock and anger?” Jason asked.

“Yes,” Tim agreed, as he looked at the picture he’d taken with a pleased smile. “Those ones.”

Jason sighed loudly and slumped into the chair next to Tim. Dick was settling into one of the seats across the aisle. Bruce had been debating what the seating arrangement should be, but it appeared they had already decided without him. At least the argument about money seemed to be allayed for now.

Dick pulled his legs up onto his chair as Bruce walked past him to the window seat, and left them there in a crisscrossed position. “It’s going well, I think.”

Honestly, it was going better than Bruce expected.  

***

Four kids. Four rambunctious kids in a crowded airport. Bruce remembered how easy it was back when all he had was Tim. That was nice. He could get work done. When was the last time he managed to do any work while traveling?

His eyes swept over his children again, taking stock. Tim and Jason were together, which probably meant they were getting into trouble. He watched them drift towards one of the large bay windows, talking conspiratorially in low voices. If he left them alone long enough, they’d somehow end up stowed away in the luggage compartment of a hijacked plane. He didn’t know why that would happen, but it would. He just knew it.

Dick was, miraculously, still with them, cheerfully pointing out shops to Damian. The younger boy’s expression had been stuck in a scowl since they arrived at the airport and he realized they were joining the masses of holiday travelers instead of going to a private terminal.

“I don’t understand,” he said again, ignoring the latest wonder of the airport Dick was pointing at. “Are we poor? Why are we flying with these commoners?”

“It’s fun!” Dick insisted. Bruce suppressed a small smile as Damian sputtered indignantly in response. He had to admire Dick’s ability to find joy in the mundane.

“Can I trust you to stay with Damian?” he asked Dick. “I need to check on your brothers.” Tim and Jason were now staring contemplatively out the window at the planes driving by. He was almost positive they wouldn’t steal an airplane but they’d surprised him enough times over the years that he’d rather not risk it.

“I’m twenty!” Dick exclaimed.

Bruce gave him a look. He did not stop giving him a look.

“You trust the ten-year-old more than you trust me,” Dick groused.

“As he should,” Damian said. “I would not wander off.”

“Keep an eye on him,” he told Damian. Dick made a high-pitched offended noise, but he’d brought this on himself. Damian nodded, solemnly accepting his duty.

Tim and Jason stopped talking as he approached, which was always cause for concern. “What are you two up to?”  

“Nothing,” they said in unison. It was enough to send an icy spike down his spine.

“Let’s all do nothing together by the gate then,” he said, herding them back towards Damian and Dick.

“Jason wants to get a pilot’s license,” Tim said, which Bruce knew was an attempt to distract him from whatever they’d actually been talking about. He’d allow it for now.

“Maybe you should get a driver’s license first,” he said.

“Sure,” Jason agreed easily. “Car license, motorcycle license, then pilot’s license.”

They made it to the gate in one piece. Early, even. Dick looked like he was itching to explore the closest shop, but either his instinct to stay with Damian or his desire to prove Bruce wrong kept him in his seat.

“Father, this is infuriatingly slow,” Damian said, standing and pacing back and forth in front of their seats. “We shouldn’t be required to wait.”

Bruce rubbed at his temple where a headache was starting. “Why don’t we play a game? I spy with my little eye, something that starts with—” He looked around for something to say, but Damian didn’t let him finish.

“Your eye is not small,” he said, coming to a stop in front of Bruce and crossing his arms. “This game is childish and stupid.”

“I spy with my little eye something that starts with a b,” Jason muttered.

“A brat?” Tim asked.

Damian twirled on them. “How dare you. I am trying to uphold this family’s respectability, something that has clearly been lacking.”

“Come on, Little D,” Dick said, patting the chair next to him. “It’ll strengthen your observation skills.”

Damian brooded. “Fine,” he said, sitting down again. “But only because it’ll improve my already outstanding abilities.”

Tim rolled his eyes and Jason didn’t even try to hide his laugh. Damian glared at them both, but settled against Dick, curling up a little closer than necessary as Dick picked a letter. He still wasn’t comfortable with his place in the family, Bruce knew, but watching him with Dick, he was sure it was only a matter of time.

The hostess announced first class boarding and Damian stood up, then looked around at them confused when they didn’t join him. “Is this not us?” he asked.

“Nope,” Jason said, with a delighted pop on the p. “We fly coach.”

“Why?” Damian asked with dawning horror.

“Because we’re not rich assholes,” Jason said.

“We donate the difference in cost between first class and coach tickets to charity,” Tim explained. “Jason picks the charity. I think we’re doing End Homelessness right now.”

“Children’s Protection Group,” Jason corrected. He put a lot of time into researching which charities did the best work and needed the most help. Bruce was proud of him. He’d spent years doing his best to carry on his mother’s charity work, but nobody in the family had her spirit as much as Jason did.

“Father, please,” Damian pled, turning to him. “We’ll look ridiculous. We’re Waynes. We’re better than this.”

Actually, Wayne Enterprises stock had jumped significantly when the media caught wind that the Waynes were flying coach. Apparently Jason wasn’t the only one who thought first class was for rich assholes.

Bruce held out an arm to him and Damian sat beside him, curling up like an angry kitten as Bruce put an arm around his shoulders,. “It will be good for you,” Bruce said.

Damian tutted angrily, but didn’t protest further.

A benefit of flying coach was that all five of them could fit in one row. Tim went straight to a window seat as usual, Jason took the middle, and Dick sat in the aisle, where he’d most easily be able to get up and walk around (and probably make five new friends before the flight was over). Bruce let Damian have the other window seat and squeezed into the seat next to him. His knees pressed uncomfortably against the seat in front of him.

“I am not pleased,” Damian grumbled, staring out the window.

“We’re doing good in the world,” Bruce said. “Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?”

Damian was silent for a few minutes, staring glumly out the window, before saying, “I suppose.”

Bruce remembered sitting in the large first class seats with a tiny, quiet Tim, who kept to himself and let Bruce work. It was a pleasant memory, but as he watched Dick already chatting it up with someone in the seat in front of him, Tim and Jason resuming their plotting now that Bruce was safely out of earshot, and Damian, who he was certain had a huge heart underneath his rough exterior, staring out the window beside him, he knew he wouldn’t go back to it for the world.