#if I did this to my mum it wouldn’t work because I clean her pens for her. so I’d be playing myself. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iwadori · 3 years

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Why you break up with the haikyu boys part 2 (Osamu, Iwaizumi, Daichi, Ushijima.)

Part 1 (Atsumu, Oikawa, Kageyama, Kenma, Akaashi, Sugawara)

Genre: angst

masterlist

Osamu: “For fuck sake Y/N, don’t deny it I know that you...”

You and Osamu were basically arranged to be together, you were best friends from when you were little and your parents thought you were a match made in heaven.

Did you love Osamu? Of course, you pretty much worshipped the ground he walked on.

But there was always a strange look he gave you whenever he mentioned his brother. You never really focused on it, but that was something you took note of.

When you came back home, after a long day of work. You see Osamu sitting in the kitchen alone, with some paper in front of him and a drink in his hand.

“‘Samu Babe!” You exclaim sauntering over to him “How are yo-“

“Don’t.” He said simply, taking a sipping some of his drink (to which you could only assume was some form of hard liquor.)

“Why ‘Samu, what’s wro-“

“You bought tickets to his game.”

“Who’s game?”

“Don’t play dumb with me Y/N, you bought tickets to my idiot of a brothers game in an attempt to slut around under my nose..”

“Samu, that’s not what it was I-“

“I don’t want to hear it Y/N!” He yelled slamming his drink down making you flinch.

“Gosh Samu whats wrong with you. I know that I had a teeny crush on Atsumu when we were kids but it was just a childhood crush. An innocent childhood crush.”

“For fuck sake Y/N, don’t deny it I know yo-“

“You know what? That I’ve spent majority of my life, trying to ease your own insecurities and jealousy of your own goddamn brother. How childish can you be Osamu ?”

Osamu eyes opened a bit in realisation, and his lips slightly parted. “But Y/N, you-“

“I what? Brought us tickets to your TWIN brothers final volleyball game, because I wanted him to see the support from his family and friends.”

“I’m sorry Y/N I really a-“

“Don’t.” you say picking up the tickets and turning around “I just thought maybe, just maybe for at least a day you could put your weird feelings towards your brother aside... but I guess you can’t.”

You left the apartment, and got your stuff another day (one where you knew Osamu was at work.)

No you did not end up dating Atsumu, you were most certainly friends and only friends. You did end up going to the game on your own, to cheer on Atsumu who most definitely appreciated it.

You thought you saw a certain Miya twins sitting in the stands at of the game, hiding his face with a baseball cap. Which made you smile a bit...

Well at least he ended up coming to the game.

Iwaizumi: “I just don’t want you Y/N, I never did”

In your second year of Seijoh Highschool, you were approached by a rough looking boy who had a ‘resting bitch face,’ and looked like they were coming to pick a fight with you.

But no, it was just “Iwaizumi Hajime.”

He was very popular throughout your school, as he was vice captain of the schools volleyball team and he was Oikawa Toorus best friend.

So when he approached you that Friday afternoon at your locker, you definitely didn’t know why.

“Y/N..” he said nervously scratching the back of his neck “umm this is for you..”

In his hands was a bar of chocolate and a scrunched up note that read

AN: DID I WRITE THAT NOTE MYSELF, yes yes I did anyways...

You were very surprised at this sudden confession as you and Iwaizumi weren’t in the same social circles and you were definitely not the type of girl that would be on his ‘radar.’

You had a quite unsettling feeling, which made you subconsciously squint your eyes at him. But they soon soften as you saw the nervousness that Iwaizumi was showcasing to you as you were contemplating on you answer.

You got out a pen, shaking the unsettling feeling you had out of your head. And ticked the box “Yes” giving it back to Iwaizumi.

He smiled widely and rushed towards you in an attempts in giving you a hug which went awkwardly wrong leaving you both laughing.

Dating Hajime, wasn’t bad nor good... it’s just what you wouldn’t expect it to be.

There wasn’t much of a change to what your usual school routine was which consisted of: going to lessons and spending break and lunch on your own reading a book.

And technically you were still doing that, but you were now just always with Hajime. Wether it was at lunch or at practice (which he always insisted you go to, also hinting that he would like for you to bring him bentos to practice.) which you did end up doing.

One day, whilst doing your daily “bento delivery,” to your boyfriend, you overhear him talking to his friends; Matsukawa and Hanamaki.

“God I can’t stand her, always running behind me like a lost puppy giving me bentos that I didn’t even fucking as for” he complained, making you gasp.

“Really?” Exclaimed Hanamaki “I know you said she confessed to you one time, but I didn’t know it was that bad?”

“Yeah she’s a stalking bitch, it’s getting annoying.”

“Gosh it’s seems someones getting a taste of the ‘Oikawa Experience’” Matsun said making them all laugh.

You entered the room, furious. “What the fuck Hajime?”

“Woah woah woah, it’s seems your stalkers about iwa, we’ll leave you too it” said Hanamaki, with Matsun following behind him as they leave.

“What do they mean I’m a stalker?”

“Well aren’t you?” He responded with a smirk

“Gosh y/n you’ve been following me about for a while now, dont you think it’s time to stop”

“Bu-But you confessed, with your note and w-“

“Are you sure about that Y/N, cause I don’t really recall ...?”

“Hajime don’t lie, we were dating.. we ARE DATING.”

“Okay Y/N let me fill you in on a little secret,” he said leaning down next to your ear “I don’t want you Y/N, I never did.”

“ but why m-“

“Why you? Because nobody knows Y/N L/N and nobody cares, I can tarnish your name and nobody will give a shit.. and that’s why your an easy target” he said still smiling “ I just wanted to rub it into Shittykawas face that I had my own little “fan club”

You were stunned, frozen in shock as Iwaizumi walks past you to leave the gym, making sure to grab the bento you made him.

“Thanks again for the help, I’m definitely going to miss these bentos!”

You should have listened to your gut feeling from before.

Daichi: “you’re just not marriage material”

Daichi was “the perfect guy,” he was nice to strangers and was helpful to the community and just an all round great guy.

So it was a massive question as to why he went for you, since you were definitely not the girl for Daichi.

“I don’t care what anyone says, your the perfect girl for me” was what he always said.

Even though those statements went out the window whenever his mother got involved.

Daichi’s mum was a strict traditional woman, who believed in family values that went back thousands of years ago.

And she most certainly didn’t like you.

She wanted you to be Daichi’s doting wife, who cooked and cleaned for him. Whilst he works and was the breadwinner of the house.

Although you found no problem with the women that did do this, but this was not for you.

When it comes to meet ups with you, Daichi and his mother. He never told her to stop when it came to the rude comments she made about you, or the times she suggested Daichi go for a more “prim and proper” girl named “Misaki Ayuzawa.”

After the meetings, when his mother was gone, he always tried to reassure that she was wrong and her words didn’t matter.

But you knew they did, that daichi was actually considering some of the things she said about you wether they were true or not.

The tension in your household was strong, since you barely talked to each other anymore. But you had hope for better things...

Until one day, you get a message from Daichi’s mother saying. “It seems Daichi made the right choice, as we all know ‘Mother Knows best.’” With a video attached of Daichi proposing to the one and only “Mikasa Ayuzawa” surrounded by all their high class business friends.

When Daichi got home he yelled, “Y/N, where are you I was at this business party at this fancy restaurant and I got some nice things for you to try!”

“Business party?” You say rolling your eyes “Or Engagement party.”

The shocked look on his face made you smile, as you both knew now that he was caught.

“Fuck you daichi! Why would you do this without even tell me !” You yelled, tearing up a bit.

“Y/N, it wasn’t meant to go down like that it was just I was talking to my mu-“

“Fuck your mum! And you!”

“I’m sorry Y/N you’re just not marriage material an-“

“I don’t care what you’ve got to say, you’ve done it and it’s over with”you said leaving.

“I’ll come back to get my stuff later,” you say “oh and congratulations on the engagement Sawamura-San”

After you said that, Daichi’s heart broke.

He did end up marrying her, and he regretted every day of it. Since she was great and all, but she just wasn’t you...

But he knows now you’re long gone, definitely not going to forgive him for marrying another girl whilst being with him.

Ushijima : stop being so emotional

You and Ushijima were very much opposite In every aspect, and at first it wasn’t really a problem.

Especially since you always excused it as “opposite attracts.”

But recently all you and Ushijima do is argue, left and right always arguing.

You complained about Ushijimas lack of emotion when it came to you, you don’t think he cared about you or about anything.

Whenever you brought up something that was wrong he would reply with “Y/N this is something you need to be acting all upset about.”

And that would definitely upset you even more, you just wanted him to notice you or shout “Y/N I care about you and I love you.”

But Of course he didn’t.

One night he came back late (again) after promising to be home early to have a meal together.

“What’s taken you so long Ushi?” You asked

“I was at practice. I told you this.” He said simply, remaining as stoic as ever.

“But you said- you promised that we can have dinner together.” You said

“ oh well I’m sorry. We can have dinner now if you like.”

“I’m not hungry anymore” you mumbled past him, going to your bedroom.

“Y/N, what’s your problem” he said following after you.

“It’s nothing...”you said tears filling your eyes.

“Okay I’m going to go eat now.” He said leaving you alone in the room going to the kitchen, making you sigh.

After you calm yourself and collect your faults, you go into the kitchen where Ushijima is at the table eating.

“Ushijima, we need to talk.” You said taking a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“We should break up.”

“Okay.”

“Is that all you have to say?” You say tearing up again.

“Yes, I’ve been thinking that for a while now.” He said bluntly “since Y/N, you’re just too emotional.”

“Oh I see.” You say now full on crying.

Ushijima looks up to see you all teared-eye, and he is kind of suprised because ‘why were you upset.’ He got up and tried to console you, but you flinched away and said “Don’t, just don’t Ushijima.”

“I’m sorry Y/N...”

“Why are you sorry? Do you even know what you’re apologising for?”

“No.”

“Well then, just seems to prove my point further...” you go to leave before saying “thanks for the wonderful time... I guess we just weren’t meant to be.”

AN: can someone appreciate what I did with Iwaizumis....no? Okay 😃 I feel this one way way more angsty then part one but oh well. What did you think.

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gimmezutara · 3 years

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Drabble that came to me earlier when reading hc’s about the steam babies:

Kya whirled around the kitchen grabbing various tea leaves. She expertly arranged the tray and swept past the counter to serve another customer.

She loved working at her Grandpa’s tea shop. It was refreshing and so different from the palace she was used to spending her days in. This place was absolutely bustling with activity and here she had more freedom than she ever did back in the Fire Nation. Here, she wasn’t Kya, Crown Princess of the Fire Nation, she could just be… Kya.

Iroh smiled as he watched her work. He loved the summers he got to spend with his granddaughter. She was always so keen to help out and was a ray of sunshine to his days.

She rushed past him again pulling a funny face and Iroh laughed.

She put her dirty tray down and bumped into Ran at the sink. “Hey, watch it Ky!” he complained as the bump knocked his arm straight into the sink.

“Are you a waterbender or aren’t you?” she teased, reaching for her notepad and pen.

“Yeah, but doesn’t mean I like being soaked,” he replied sulkily. “How come you get to serve and I’m stuck doing the washing up?”

“Wanna swap? There’s plenty of people who’d love to chat with the Prince of the Fire Nation out there,” she said, offering the pen and notebook with a knowing smile.

Ran rolled his eyes and tipped his head back with a weary sigh. “Why did Mum and Dad send us to work here again? You know I could’ve been at Ember Island with Shomo and Raoko right?”

“Doing really productive things I’m sure,” Kya said sarcastically.

Ran huffed, his fringe flying away from his face as he went back to his reluctant cleaning.

Kya bent under the counter to pick up a dish rag.

“Excuse me?” came a voice from above.

“Just a second,” she said, before she tossed the rag back in the sink behind her (feeling satisfied at the groan from her brother) and turned back to see the most gorgeous face she had ever seen in her life. She didn’t know eyes could be that green! He must be an earthbender, surely.

She suddenly realised she’d been gawping at him completely silent.

“Uh, what can I do for you?” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear and tugging the ends nervously, a habit she seemed to have picked up from her mother.

“Can I get a ginger tea please?” he asked.

“Oh yeah sure!” she said a tad too loudly. “You sit down and I’ll be right with you!”

She hastily made her way to the kitchen to make the tea, knocking the whole pot over in the process. “Shit…” she muttered to herself.

“Are you alright, Kya?”

She jumped at Iroh’s voice. “Yep, absolutely fine!” she said a little too quickly.

She prepped the tray, steeled herself and made her way out into the seated area. She caught his eyes and felt herself smile. Then she tripped over the green rug in the middle of the floor. With lightning reflexes she managed to right herself just as a tan hand appeared to steady the tray. “Are you ok?” the boy asked.

Kya’s eyes widened. She laughed awkwardly. “I’m fine, just fine,” she said, feeling the tips of her ears burn with a blush as she took the tray from his hands and placed it on the table. “Sorry, I spilled your tea a bit,” she said, “I can get you another-”

“No no, it’s alright,” the boy said with a kind smile.

“Ok, um, great,” Kya said. She nodded her head at him and made her way back to the kitchen as fast as possible.

***

The next few days the boy returned every day. One afternoon Kya was leaning on the countertop lost in her imagination.

Iroh watched from his usual seat. He followed her gaze to the handsome Earth Kingdom boy sitting by the window and chuckled to himself.

He rose from his seat and joined his granddaughter at the counter. “It appears we have a new regular!” he said.

Kya was startled from her daydreaming. “Oh, uh, yes. I mean… who?”

Iroh gestured. “He is a handsome boy is he not?”

Kya blushed. “I… wouldn’t know. I guess,” she said, winning the award for worst nonchalant answer in the world.

“Shame he always sits by himself,” Iroh said. “I would have thought he would have a girlfriend.”

“Do you think he does?” Kya asked a little too quickly.

Iroh laughed to himself but kept his features neutral. “I shouldn’t think so,” he said.

Kya’s face melted with relief. “Ok. That’s good. I mean… that’s fine. Why would I care?”

They stood in silence for a while. “I’ll take over for a while my dear, you could do with a rest,” Iroh said. “Why don’t you go and accompany our new patron?”

“What?” Kya said, instinctively clutching the notebook and pen to her. “No no no, I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Make polite conversation with our new, generous customer?”

Kya paused, stumped for a response. “Uh- no-”

“Great! You have a rest,” Iroh said, taking the notebook and pen from her gently but firmly and shooing her away from the counter.

Kya stood frozen, wrestling with herself for a bit.

She turned to face the table. She sighed and drew herself up straighter and made her way over.

“Uh, hi,” she said. The boy looked up at her and smiled.

“Hi,” he said.

“It’s- uh- nice to see you again. Here. You’re a- um- good customer,” she said. Her brain screamed at her.

The boys lips quirked up into an unfairly gorgeous smile. “Uh, thanks,” he said. “Are you… still working?”

“Me? Oh, um, my Gra….boss just said- it-it’s my break,” she managed.

The boys face lit up. “Oh well, please feel free to join me,” he said, gesturing to the chair opposite.

“Ok, thanks,” she said, managing to get through at least one sentence without stumbling over her words. Short as it was, she’d count it as a victory.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” the boy said.

“Oh yeah, I’m just here for the summer,” she replied.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“The Fire Nation,” she said.

“Ah, I thought so. I mean, I didn’t want to assume, but-”

“Golden eyes gave it away huh?” she said. It was a pretty dead giveaway, even if her lightly tan skin and curly hair gave away her Water Tribe heritage.

The boy nodded, smiling a bit sheepishly. “Firebender?” he asked.

She nodded. “Earthbender?” she asked.

He smiled and nodded too.

***

Kya readied herself for her night out.

“You tell anyone I went out, you’re dead,” she threatened her brother.

“Sheesh, calm down, I’m not telling on anyone,” he said from his position lying on the couch. “Just… be careful Kya ok?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I’ll be fine,” she said.

“Oh and you better not bring him back here, ok? I’m not sharing an apartment with you and your new lover.”

She threw a pillow at him. “Same to you and your new fancy lady!” she retorted.

Ran’s face fell. “I- what?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking out last week!”

“I didn’t- she’s not-” Ran began before his face fell into a scowl and he growled in frustration. “Real nice, blackmail from the future Fire Lady, that’s comforting.”

“Shut up,” she retorted with a smile. She took one last glance in the mirror before she set off.

***

Later that night she crept back into the tea shop, a soft flame burning in her palm to light the way. She could hear her brother’s loud snores from outside the room. She carefully put her pack on the side and went to grab some water from the sink.

Suddenly a loud snore from the sofa made her jump and almost drop the cup. She quickly caught it and snapped her head round. She silently made her way to the sofa and peeked her head over it.

Iroh was fast asleep on the couch.

She breathed a sigh of relief and carefully crept back to the kitchen, putting the cup back in its place before quietly going back to her room.

The door closed with a soft click.

The snoring from the sofa ceased and Iroh carefully lifted his head to glance around the room. Then he chuckled to himself.

***

“Ah, you are both here!” Iroh said, greeting the Fire Lord and Lady enthusiastically. “We have had the most wonderful time! Ran’s been working hard in my shop and Kya has been wonderful as always. She’s even made some new friends,” he said. He glanced over at Katara with a twinkle in his eye.

Katara caught his look. She knew that look. Her gaze flicked over to her husband who, as usual, hadn’t noticed his Uncle’s tell tale signs of having some juicy gossip.

“Sit down, you must tell me all about your trip over,” Iroh said, shooing them into seats around the table.

Just then the door opened and Kya walked through, lost in a world of her own.

“Kya!” Zuko said excitedly. Kya jumped, startled at the sudden presence of her parents.

“Dad! Hi!” she said, her startled face melting into a smile.

“How’s my little sunbeam?” Zuko asked, coming over to give her a hug.

“Great, Dad,” Kya said as he squeezed her tight. She made her way over to Katara giving her a hug too.

“Had fun with Grandpa?” Zuko asked.

Kya beamed. “Of course! I actually said I’d look after the kitchen this morning though so…” she said, backing towards the door.

Zuko smiled. “Of course, I’ll come and help get heaters going.”

“Dad, I’m a firebender, you haven’t had to help me with that since I was like three,” she complained.

“Let your Dad be of assistance if he wants,” Katara said, with a patronising pat on Zuko’s shoulder. He arched an eyebrow at her and she nudged him playfully before turning back to his daughter.

Katara eyed Iroh suspiciously over the rim of her cup as Zuko and Kya left the room. Iroh’s face was impassive, as always, but Katara knew he was dying to tell her something.

“Iroh…” she said.

“Yes?” he asked.

“What do you know?”

Iroh looked around conspiratorially and leaned in. “Kya’s got a boyfriend,” he said excitedly.

Katara laughed. “Who?” she asked.

“There’s a handsome boy who comes to the tea shop, you should see her, she’s been daydreaming about him all day every day since she first laid eyes on him!”

“Oh spirits,” Katara said in mock despair.

“Reminds me of a Water Tribe girl I once had working here who could barely make the right orders because she was too distracted by the other server.”

Katara’s face suddenly became amusingly affronted. “I did not make the wrong orders! And I was not ogling Zuko!” she said.

Iroh laughed. “I believe I said ‘distracted’, my dear,” he said.

Katara blushed, as if the idea of being attracted to her husband of twenty years was still embarrassing, making Iroh laugh even more.

“What’s this boy like?” Katara said, a hint of concern in her voice. She knew her daughter could handle herself but she was all too familiar with how vulnerable feelings for someone could make you, and how much it could hurt when it didn’t go well.

“He’s very kind,” Iroh said reassuringly. “You know the day she met him she tripped over, spilled his tea everywhere!”

Katara laughed. “Oh spirits, I’d hoped she wouldn’t take after her father in this respect…”

Iroh laughed too.

Zuko walked back in and the two quickly fell quiet and went back to sipping their tea.

Zuko paused by the table. He regarded them both suspiciously.

“What did I miss?” he said, his tone heavy with suspicion.

“Nothing, my son,” Iroh said dismissively. “I was just telling Lady Katara here that it is important to spice up a marriage after such a long time together.”

Katara choked on her tea.

#Zutara #steambabies #grandpa iroh

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ghost-strawberry · 3 years

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Taking Control

Prompt by Dekalkomania for Phic Phight 2021. Danny hasn't been feeling himself, blacking out and having strange dreams. Unbeknownst to him, Freak Show's staff was not the only artifact that could control ghosts. Even worse, Jack and Maddie are the ones who get their hands on that object.

"I'm not sure Jack," Maddie murmured, distrust in her eyes. She picked up the object tenderly, examining it. It was some kind of orb, about the size of her palm. Shining red and encased in an intricate wire structure. Even through her gloves a cold temperature leeched out from within it. "This is a great opportunity Maddie! How often do we get our hands on something like this?" It seemed nothing could dampen her husband's elation when faced with such an interesting project. "Of course, it is wonderful to find an artefact like this, and I will take great pleasure in examining it thoroughly, I just wonder how dangerous it could be." She delicately placed the orb in a glass box and slid a heavy metal lid over. She crouched down beside it, staring at it through the glass. There was something... compelling about it. Maddie didn't believe in magic or superstition, she only put stock in that which could be clearly defined and measured with science. Ghosts residing in latter category. This object though, well, it was like nothing the scientist had ever seen before; she had only read about the like in damp ridden, old textbooks on the occult. The swirling crimson pattern seemed almost to move as she stared.

"Let's get this show on the road," she said, reaching for the controls next to her. Maddie deftly flicked several switches on the machine beside the glass case and twisted a dial, causing it to generate a smooth hum. Jack was almost bouncing up and down with excitement. Maddie smirked at his child-like joy whilst maintaining her concentration on the equipment. She had no idea what kind of results they would uncover. The object began to shiver in its cage and Jack observed the fluctuating results, taking notes. In her mind, Maddie dredged up all her limited memories on studying ecto-artefacts such as these and their possible abilities. She hoped it would be some kind of device they could use in their ghost hunting, perhaps to capture, or control the spectral beings? Wouldn't it be great to find something that could properly capture that ghost kid menace: Danny Phantom?

The infinite fog rolled towards him in voluminous banks, the insubstantial trees beside him were withered and twisted. Harsh rain lashed down, stinging his face and eyes. The dark earth trembled and cracked beneath his feet. A disembodied voice drifted through the haze. "What?" The rasping words crept out, "how did you get in here?" A face appeared, mouth malformed, twisted and confused. Glass eyes like an insects shimmered in and out of sight. A scent of fear suffused the air. Glowing ruby trails traced an outline around a familiar room. His lips moved of their own accord. "You requested it of me," came out in a drawl. "Turn it off! Now!" Before he could react, complete darkness fell.

Nightmares were nothing new to Danny. Something about having died, facing horrible creatures everyday and fighting fearsome ghosts did that to a boy. But this dream, this nightmare last night... it was... different. He shivered in his bed, pyjamas sodden with sweat. He tried to recall what the dream was about. He couldn't remember anything particularly scary about it, in fact, he could only clearly see one image, imprinted on his mind. His mother, wearing her usual blue hazmat suit and red safety goggles. Danny shook of the vestiges of the dream and swung himself out of bed. It probably didn't mean anything important.

"Hey Danny-o!" The jovial voice greeted him as he walked into the kitchen. The large, blockish figure of his dad bundled across the room, obviously excited about something. "Hey, Dad," Danny responded, in a monotone voice that was his attempt at expressing his disinterest in whatever crazy experiment his dad was working on. Needless to say, his dad wouldn't pick up on anything as subtle as that. "Got some big stuff we're investigating today! Can't wait to show you!" His white teeth gleamed as he spoke. "Now Jack, don't go getting Danny intrigued. You know we can't show it just yet, not until we know what it does," his mum calmly chimed in as she finished her bowl of cereal. That actually made this project more interesting to Danny. His parents were not the kind of scientists to adhere to any kind of health and safety, or to purposefully shut him out like this. Danny had been allowed full access around their laboratory and usually informed about all of their work since he'd been about ten years old. "So," he said, trying to show a natural curiosity whilst busying himself making breakfast, "what does it do?" "Well, it's basically-" his dad started, but was abruptly cut off by his wife standing up and sharply clapping him on the shoulder. "Basically sweetie, we don't know... yet. And we couldn't tell you anything because we don't know, right Jack?" She turned to look at him pointedly, hand still resting on his shoulder. Danny sat down and started to eat, not surprised. He would have to find out about this experiment another way. "Yes... yes of course." His dad grinned with the secret and shot a sly, deliberate wink to Danny. "Danny, would you be a dear and wash up our dishes from breakfast? We've really got to get to the lab," his mum asked. Before she had finished speaking, a strange rush of feeling rose up in Danny, his stomach turned over like he had butterflies, his hair stood on end. Without meaning to, Danny got up quickly, dropping his spoon which clattered noisily in his bowl. He snatched his parent's dishes from the table and began cleaning them in the kitchen sink. "Yes," the one syllable word dropped out of his mouth, in a voice that didn't seem like his own. It was as if he was watching someone else washing up, with his arms, from the confines of his own head. "Oh... thanks sweetie!" His mum remarked, in a surprised tone, "it would be nice if you reacted like this every time your father and I asked you to do something!" Danny's head nodded, his eyes in the sink and on the task, unable to look anywhere else. He heard his parents footsteps leave the kitchen and go downstairs to the basement. His thoughts tumbled over in his mind, his vision growing darker around the edges. This sensation, it was too familiar. Then, as swiftly as it had come over him, he was back to normal. The dishes lay clean and dripping on the draining board. Danny slumped down in a chair, unnerved. What was that all about? He ran his hands through his inky black hair, trying to make sense of the experience. His mum had offhandedly asked him to do something, and he had been somehow forced to do it. Remnants of last nights dream came back to his mind, involuntarily. He racked his brains for an answer, for the familiarity of the sensation to explain itself. This must have had something to do with his parents' 'secret project'. He would have to go and investigate this for himself, now. Just as he reached for the power within him to turn into his ghost side, he blacked out.

"Maddie... Maddie... Maddie!" Jack shouted, either ecstatic or extremely anxious. Probably both. "Shhh Jack! I know," Maddie hissed through clenched teeth. She was gently shuddering with anticipation. Here it was, just as she had imagined, the ghost kid. In their laboratory! Dozens of mechanical objects whirred and ticked around the scientists. "Are you getting this data?" "Sure am," Jack whispered, pen flying across the page of his notebook, eyes darting to and from various devices and the floating ghostly child in the centre of the room. Maddie observed the phenomenon. It was, just hanging there, weightlessly, with a blank look on it's face. It's eyes were glazed and still and it wasn't exhibiting any of the usual traits they had associated with the ghost kid, namely being aggressiveness. In fact, it wasn't doing anything at all. The glowing, red artefact shimmered in her hand. It was obviously an ancient object used to summon ghosts. Since the phantom had appeared, the lab had grown cold; Maddie could see her breath drift in the air. In her other hand, she had an ecto-weapon directed at the ghost kid's head. If it noticed this, it made no sign. "What are you doing here?" Maddie asked, more steadily than she felt. "You requested it of me." The chilling voice echoed in the basement and reverberated in her mind. "What are you?" "A ghost." It's head slowly turned to look directly in her eyes. The unblinking, icy blue glare sent a shiver down her spine. She raised her weapon. "A human," it continued. "Now, that's not possible. A human can't be a ghost..." "Your son." These words from the spectre sunk into her chest, heavy. "No... no that can't be. You're not Danny, you're not my Danny. This is obviously a trick." Maddie turned towards her husband imploringly, eyes wide in suspicion. "Yeah, no putrid ectoplasmic manifestation is a son of ours!" Jack bellowed, as if he wasn't afraid, notes and pen forgotten. A solid thunk on the metal floor made them both jump. Maddie's eyes shot down to see she had dropped the artefact in her distress. The ghost seemed to flicker, it's face turning from Maddie, to Jack, then to the room around it. It appeared to regain control of it's limbs, it's mouth noiselessly hanging open. Maddie instinctively charged up the weapon and fired, but was left only with a black, smoking ring on the wall behind where the phantom had been. The lab was suddenly quiet. All of their equipment stood still. Jack moved quickly to her side, comforting her. "Don't worry Maddie, it was just trying to trick us." Maddie said nothing, only remembering in horror the look of fear and confusion on the ghost kid's face before it disappeared. In that one moment, it had looked too much like her son, like Danny.

#Phic Phight 2021 #uh oh danny what you gunna do #danny phantom #phicc #fanfic #jack fenton #maddie fenton #mind control #mmm yah boy got some issues now

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poge-life · 4 years

Text

The Cut } Finn Shelby chap. 3

Chapter one chapter two

Things were slowly going back to normal in Birmingham. The Longfield's had returned to Small Heath two days after the wedding, not wanting to be away from business any longer.

David had informed Penelope that she and James would be going with him to meet Vincente Changretta, as Tommy and Camden would be away on business. Whenever David had business with Tommy, he would send Camden since he would be the one looking over the books for David's businesses and knew he would do what's best for business.

Finn and Isaiah were to search Mr Changretta and his men when they arrived at Charlie's yard to make sure they wouldn't be carrying anything. Penelope was sat on John's right with David sat in the middle with Arthur on his left and James on the end; Charlie and Curly a little further back.

Finn moved to stand behind Penelope as Isaiah was behind Arthur and David.

"You asked for a meeting out in the open," Arthur started, "fresh air and the fine aroma of shit."

Penelope and John let out a quiet laugh at the oldest Shelby's choice of words as James spoke," 'neutral ground' you said."

"This is hardly neutral ground," Vincente replied, looking around Charlie's yard. Penelope leaned back in her seat as Finn placed a hand on her shoulder, "well, it's what you've got."

"So, por favor," Arthur spoke, purposely speaking Spanish, "please sit down."

"Where is Thomas?"

"He got called away," David answered, "I'm one of Tom's most trusted advisor's, so you'll be doing business with me."

"He said he'd be here." Vincente spoke, hostility in his voice

"Yeah, he's busy." Arthur answered

"And we just told you he got called away, "John spoke, "what do you want?"

It was clear to everyone that no one wanted to be here. Penelope knew Arthur, Michael, and Camden had set fire to Angel Changretta's restaurant the night before Tommy's wedding to prevent him from attending with Lizzie.

Penelope knew that no one crosses the Italians unless you have a death wish. The Changretta's took their vendetta seriously. And Penelope hoped no one said anything to piss Vincente Changretta off.

"There has been peace between the Peaky Blinders and the Changretta family for two years now." Vincente spoke

John had interrupted the man by asking him if he wanted tea and Penelope shared a look with her brother, knowing John would be the one to piss off Vincente.

"We don't want fucking tea!" Vincente spat, "we want an explanation."

"Well, I'll have fucking tea, "Arthur said, pouring himself and James a cup

"Explanation for what?" David asked, lighting a cigarette

"The Little Venice restaurant on Forge street was burnt down," Vincente said, causing James to interrupt him this time, "no. Couldn't have been us. We were at a wedding."

"You burnt it down to stop my son from being at that wedding." Vincente replied.

"Forgive me, Mr Changretta," Penelope spoke, "But what do we have to do with your son's restaurant burning down? When Lizzie happens to be a very good friend to all of us. And we wouldn't do anything to ruin her happiness."

"A woman has no business speaking without being spoken to."

Finn's grip had tightened on Penelope's shoulder as James and David sat up straighter, "Mr Changretta, it would be wise for you to advise your men to watch how they speak to my daughter."

Vincente turned to face the two men, speaking in Italian before turning back to face the table, "You are such big boys now. And such a beautiful young woman. But once you borrowed clothes from us to look like men."

"And we repaid you for that," James spoke, "we always repay our debt."

"How's the tea, Arthur? Is it..."

Arthur and James dumped their tea out before answering, "it's cold."

Vincente turned his attention to David, realizing he would be getting nowhere with John and Arthur, "Tell Tommy that we pay him whatever he asks us to pay. We stay out of the city and off the tracks."

"But you tell him from me," he continued, looking over at Penelope, "that my son will walk with any woman in this city. Any woman he chooses. Even if that woman works for the Emperor, Thomas Shelby. Even if that woman is already with a Shelby."

James quickly stood up at Vincente's words as Isaiah moved closer to the table and Finn moved to stand next to her instead. David let out a dark chuckle as Penelope stood up and grabbed onto Finn's hand, "You'd find that your son would not get past my brother, Mr Changretta."

"And if he wishes, he will walk with the woman he loves." Vincente spoke, looking between John, Arthur, and David.

John leaned forward to pour himself tea before speaking, "You know, it would be hard for your son to walk anywhere with a bullet in each knee, wouldn't it?"

Penelope shut her eyes at John's words, tightening her grip on Finn's hand. John just started a war with Vincente Changretta. And she knew nothing good would come out of it.

Vincente stood up straighter as David shared a look with Arthur.

"Too much," Vincente had pointed at John, "you said too much, my friend. Sabini said 'Suck and Swallow'. But no. Too much. I spit."

Vincente spat at John's feet before walking away as one of his men started cursing in Italian, smashing one of the chairs to bits. Penelope sat down on her chair as Finn gave her hand a squeeze, letting her know that he was there.

The Italian's were prideful men. They valued family and loyalty over everything. And John knew that. He was told to let David and Arthur handle the business. But he let his pride get in the way.

"Isaiah," Arthur spoke, "Put two extra men on our pubs in Nechells."

"James, tell your brother to go to London and have him take a few blinders to the casino's and pubs." David spoke before walking away

"We're not scared of fucking eyeties anymore." John told his brother

"Don't tell Tommy about the chair and clean this fucking shit up." Arthur said, following after David as John called out after him, "We're not scared of fucking wops!"

"You're a right fucking idiot, John," Penelope spoke, turning to face him, "you just threatened to shoot his son in the knees. You know how serious they take those threats. You just started a war."

Penelope stood and turned to look at Finn, "Pop around our house later? I have to go to Mum's office before heading over to see Cam."

Finn nodded his head before leaning down to give her a kiss. Penelope fixed his Peaky cap before giving him a peck, making her way through Charlie's yard.

James followed after his sister, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, "what do you have to talk to Cam about?"

"One of us has to tell him what John did because if Arthur or Tommy does it, you'll know Cam will no doubt try to kill John himself."

The older boy nodded, knowing she was right. The Longfield's had no business nor problems with the Italians due to them being temperamental so Cam and David did everything in their power to make sure there was no bad blood between the two families and since ⅗ Longfield's were at the meeting, the Longfield's were now involved with the Italians.

"Pol's gonna kill John," James mumbled, opening the car door, Penelope following, "If dad doesn't do it first."

Penelope made her way through Shelby Company ltd, walking past Michael's office towards Camden's before backtracking to stop in front of Michael's, turning to face him.

Said boy was sitting at his desk, cigarette in hand as he looked at Penelope who had a smirk on her face, "What?"

"See you and Willow made up." Penelope answered, walking into his office as she looked around, only being in his office once

"What makes you say that?"

Penelope walked over to the desk before bending down before leaning down to pick up Willow's bra, holding it up for Michael to see, "because I bought her this for her birthday."

With that, Willow slowly stood up from her spot behind Michael's desk as he closed his eyes in defeat as she gave a little wave, "Hi Penny."

"You're lucky it was me and not Tommy." Penelope smirked, looking between the two, knowing she had something on them now.

"Why are they lucky it was you and not Tommy?"

The three turned to see Camden and Tommy standing in the doorway. Willow quickly snatched her bra out of Penelope's hand before the two older man could see it and let Isaiah know, even though Willow knew Penelope was bound to tell him.

"You two wanna tell them or should we wait for 'Siah to be here, too?" Penelope teased as Willow and Michael looked at each other.

Penelope was having a field day with whatever she knew about them and Tommy and Camden could tell, the big grin on her face giving it away.

"Penny caught us together and knew Tommy would make a bigger deal about it." Willow sighed, avoiding eye contact with Tommy and Camden.

"You left your bra on the floor, didn't you?" Cam smirked, leaning against the door, causing Willow to go red as Michael let out a sigh. Penelope struggled to hold her laugh in as Willow sent her a look.

"Don't let it happen again here." Tommy spoke, the couple nodding

"Polly said that you should call her. There's been some trouble." Michael told his cousin, causing Penelope and Camden to look at each other

"What trouble?"

" I'm guessing the stuff she doesn't like to tell me about." Michael responded, irritation laced in his voice

Anybody could tell Michael hated that Polly wouldn't let him be involved with the business, despite being one of the people Tommy trusted the most. Penelope wasn't a blinder nor involved with Tommy's business but she always knew what was going on. Mainly because Camden would tell her what was going on; Finn doing the same when he was allowed to be involved.

"Cam, I need to talk to you." Penelope said, walking to his office. Camden was one of the book keepers for the company, dealing with David's business that he did with Tommy and Alfie Solomans.

Camden sat in his chair as Penelope flopped down on the couch in his office, taking many naps in her brother's office.

"What's going on, Pen?"

"John fucked up, Cam," She spoke in a quiet voice, "we had that meeting with Vincente Changretta about Angel's restaurant. And John threatened to put bullets in Angel's knees."

"He fucking did what?" Camden exclaimed, looking over at his sister. Camden had a short temper. Everyone knew that. The war caused it. Camden had been tortured and held captive during the war before being let go. He didn't speak for weeks when he came back to camp. Only telling them when the tunnels collapsed. Camden was the protector of the family. After thinking he would never see them again; he always made sure his family was safe. And now that John had possibly started a war with the Changretta's and involving his family?

"Mr Changretta said there was nothing we could do to prevent Angel from being with Lizzie and John said it would be hard to do that with bullets in his knees." Penelope exclaimed, running her hand over her face as she looked over at her brother. Camden's hands were curled into fists and he was clenching his jaw to the point where the muscle in it twitched.

"What did dad do?"

"Told James to tell you to take a few Peaky boys to London to watch over at the pubs and casinos." She answered as Camden nodded

"I don't want you and James involved," Camden started, "you let dad and meself handle this. You two are to stay out of this."

Penelope nodded as Tommy walked into Camden's office, causing Penelope to roll her eyes, "Sure Tommy. Come right in."

Tommy didn't even bat an eye as he responded to the blonde, "I own the building Penny. I'll do as I please."

Penelope rolled her eyes as she laid down, shutting her eyes for a moment, "C'mon. Meeting at Polly's."

The blonde let out a groan before begrudgingly following after her brother and Tommy. Walking past Michael's office, Willow called her in, causing her to turn and walk into the accountants office, "What?"

"Just letting you know that I wouldn't want to sit in any of the chairs in here for a while." Willow avoided eye contact with Penelope as she spoke, causing Michael to choke on the whiskey he was drinking.

"Oh, I'm sure that's what Willow sounded like earlier." Penelope laughed, running out of the office before either could say anything.

Penelope greeted Finn with a kiss as she walked through the betting den and into the kitchen that connected the Watery Lane house to the building they used for bets on race day. David was sat at the table with James, Arthur, and Polly as John was standing by the mantle.

"Thanks for coming Finn, "Arthur spoke, "Now fuck off."

Finn rolled his eyes before walking through the den, being stopped by Tommy and Camden, "Finn, you can stay."

The red head immediately slunk to his girlfriend's side, the blonde wrapping her arm around his back, leaning into his side.

Tommy took a breath before looking at his younger brother, "Sit down, John."

"You cut Angel Changretta, even though Arthur and myself told you to apologize." David spoke, causing Penelope to nearly give herself whiplash at how fast she turned to look at John.

That was it. John officially started a war with the Changretta's. Dragging her family with them.

"Polly told you to compromise," Tommy looked between his older brother and aunt before looking back at John, "you chose not to listen to Mr apologize or Mrs compromise, and now I've got an Italian walking around my backyard saying he's going to kill my brother."

"So, what should we do, John? Do we apologize? Or do we compromise?" David asked, leaning towards the boy as Arthur spoke up, "it was just something he said as a joke."

The Shelby boys never like disappointing David. He was practically their father, as theirs ran off before Finn was even born. Letting David down was one of the worst feelings ever.

"Yes, but he's your brother too, Arthur." Tommy commented, "And I don't want to start a war over something John said without meaning it."

Penelope noticed that James and Camden were unusually quiet, considering they always had something to say but Penelope thought it might have to do with the fact that her family wasn't directly involved with this business.

"So, should we apologize in Italian or English? Or should we just ask them which fucking language they prefer? I'm not clear."

"You said while this business was going on in London, you wanted peace here." Arthur said to Tommy.

The three Shelby brothers wanted nothing more than to be done with the Italians but they all wanted three different ways to solve the problem.

"And the only way to guarantee peace, is by making the prospect of war seem hopeless," David spoke as Tommy agreed, "If John apologizes once, you do it again and again and again. Like taking bricks out of the wall of your fucking house."

Tommy turned to look at Arthur, "Do you want to bring the house down, Arthur? If you're soft on rebellion, it'll grow."

"Bloody 'soft on rebellion' " Arthur scoffed

"You did the right thing, John. Now, we go to the offensive. We take two of Changretta's pubs, we take them tonight."

"That's it?" Polly scoffed, " For Christ's sake, why?"

"Because we fucking can! Because we fucking can, and if we can, we do!" Tommy yelled as Camden agreed, "And if we lift our heel off their necks now, they'll come at us. Remember, these are the bastards that wanted Danny Whizz-bang dead!"

Arthur had turned away from the conversation at this point, not wanting to hear anymore. Tommy had noticed and scoffed at his older brother, "You're getting soft, brother. Soft and weak. Save the bible for Sunday's, eh?"

Everyone knew the reason behind Arthur's change of heart. Linda was a very religious woman and she was practically forcing Arthur away from the only life he knew.

"Finn, I need to get to Hockney, then home. It's been a long day." Tommy said to the youngest Shelby. Finn nodded his head, pressing a kiss to Penelope's head before making his way out of the building.

"You take the Wrexem. You take the Five Bells. You get them signed over to us in the morning. You make sure to keep the coppers away. And don't use the bloody phone, someone's listening."

David pulled out his cigarette case, offering his children one before focusing on the two Shelby's, "You didn't just threaten Angel Changretta. You did it with two of my kids present. Therefore, involving my family in this war. You cut Vincente's son. They don't just lie there and take it, like the rest of Birmingham does when it comes to you lot. An eye for an eye. They'll stop at nothing to make sure this vendetta is paid. No matter who gets in the way. Any harm comes to my family, my wife or my kids, because you two decide to go against Tommy's orders and do as you please, you won't like how it ends."

Never in all the years David has taken care of the Shelby family, has he ever threatened them. But he loved his own family more and wouldn't think twice about harming anyone who hurt his family, Shelby or not.

"Dave..." John spoke in a quiet voice. John had grown up seeking David's approval for everything. He considered David more of a father than his own.

"Do the right thing, John Boy." David told him, patting his shoulder as he made his way through the betting den.

"James, Penny," Camden spoke, causing the two blonde's to look at their older brother, "go wait in the car."

They knew better than to argue with Camden. So they nodded, saying their farewells. Penelope leaned down to wrap her arms around John, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "It'll be alright John."

The two blondes made their way out of the building, making their way to their fathers car, "Think John'll apologize?"

James just shrugged, for once not being able to determine his best friends actions, "For everyone's sake...i hope so."

Penelope was laying with her mum in her parents room as David was in his office. Penelope was watching her mother with a content look on her face as Audrey came up with designs for the dresses Grace had asked her to design for the foundation this Sunday.

The content feeling didn't last long though.

James came bounding through the doorway, flopping on top of his sister, who let out a groan at the sudden weight, "get off me, you knob."

"You don't want to spend quality time with your brother?" James teased, maneuvering so he was laying with his head on Penelope's stomach.

"Not when your fat arse just drops on me." Penelope smacked the back of his head as Audrey laughed at her two youngest children.

Growing up, James and Penelope were as close as any siblings could be. James felt the need to protect his sister whenever Camden went with their father on business; being the man of the house. James, John, and Camden had broken the nose and many bones of the boy who referred to Penelope as the 'Peaky Whore' because she was close with the Shelby's. After that, no one ever made comments about her again.

While Camden showed his love for Penelope through his words, James did it through his actions. He would always hug Penelope, have his arm around her shoulder, or place a kiss on her head; something he got from their father.

"Where's your brother?" Audrey asked, glancing over at James who was playing with the rings on Penelope's hand.

"Went with John, Isaiah, Arthur...and Finn to take the Changretta's pubs."

"They let Finn go with them?" Penelope asked, worry laced in her voice

While she was happy that he was being included in the business, she just wished it wasn't the violent stuff. She knew he could handle himself, being trained by her father and oldest brother but she knew how often the Shelby brothers got hurt. And since there's a possible war brewing with the Italians? Her nerves were at an all time high.

"Cam's looking out for him. He knows to pull him before things get serious." James explained, looking up at his sister.

Any time the youngest Shelby would come with them, James and Camden would make sure Finn was never in harm's way; knowing his brothers would be too occupied with making sure Finn was safe.

David had walked into the room and felt himself smile at the sight. Growing up, Camden, James, and Penelope would climb into the bed with them and just talk about anything and nothing. Penelope spent most nights in her parents room after her brothers got drafted for the war. And when the boys returned, they spent many nights in their parents bed, wanting to be around each other after being away for four years.

"Sweetheart," David called, causing Audrey to look over at him, "seems like our bed has been infested with pests."

The two youngest Longfield children let out yells of protests at their fathers words as David and Audrey let out laughs.

David gestured for James to move his legs so he could lay down. Audrey had placed her sketchbook on her night table as she laid on her side, alternating with her husband with playing with their kids hair.

You would think James and Penelope weren't David and Audrey's kids due to their blonde hair but David's hair was blonde when he was young, passing that gene onto his two youngest while Camden got their mothers auburn hair.

James and Camden were quite the ladies men in Birmingham. They both were strapping young men; chiseled jawlines, both with muscle from the war, eyes that every girl seemed to fall for. And they were in a gang. Any girl in Birmingham wanted to take a blinder to bed and James and Camden often agreed to it.

Penelope was also a good looking Longfield. Often were people jealous of the good looks that all the Longfield's possessed. Penelope was one of the most beautiful girls in Birmingham. She had blonde hair that fell to just below her shoulders, stunning eyes. But once she grew a figure, men often stopped paying attention to her looks and focused more on her body and tried to bed her; well those brave enough to. But Penelope never bat an eye. Not when she had one of the most strapping young men in Birmingham on her arm the last year and a half. She had been enamored with Finn since they were 10. But her feelings grew stronger as her and Finn grew up. About two years ago to be exact.

Penelope knew she always had feelings for the boy. Finn had always defended her honor growing up. Made sure no one ever spoke bad about her. Penelope was told by her mum to get Camden from Tommy's gym and she had walked in just to see Finn take down his opponent. She pulled him aside and told him how she felt. Finn feeling the same.

"Do you think John will apologize?" Penelope asked, looking between her parents. David and Audrey looked at each other for a few seconds before David spoke, "I'm hoping I talked some sense into him. But, you can never tell with John. He needs to realize he dragged us into this war. It won't just be them who Vincente Changretta targets."

"You'd think he got enough of war in the actual war." James mumbled, letting out a sigh. Penelope grabbed her brother's hand and gave it a squeeze.

James was 17 when they got drafted for the war. He was too young. Too innocent to see so much violence. So much death. He didn't talk for weeks when he came home. But he got better. John and Camden were by his side everyday to reassure him that he was safe and that the war was over.

"Tommy'll get through to him." Audrey reassured him, sharing a look with David that went unnoticed by their children.

It was the day of the Shelby Charitable Foundation Ball that Grace had been working so hard to put together.

David and Audrey led their family through the crowd as Penelope had her arms linked with her brothers. Audrey had outdone herself yet again. She had slaved many hours over various fabrics, needles, jewels, etc...

Penelope was wearing a floor length light gray dress that had jewels along the bodice and the hips with strings of pearls all along the skirt of the dress. Penelope's blonde hair was pulled into a low bun with a jeweled headband to top it off.

Grace had requested that Audrey and her had similar colored dresses due to wanting to show her thanks for everything she had done for her.

Audrey and Grace had gotten close since Tommy told them they were getting married and Grace had come to Audrey on how to deal with the lifestyle. Audrey had very often helped with blinder business, not wanting to tarnish the name of her business. Audrey had told Grace it was better to not ask questions she didn't want the answer to and to wait for Tommy to come to her about it rather than prying.

Audrey was wearing a floor length rose-gold dress that had jewels all over the dress.

Penelope quickly spotted Willow and dragged her brothers with her. Willow was wearing a floor length gown with gold silk fabric under a layer of maroon, gold, and silver jewels.

"Well, you might just be the best looking woman in here." Penelope teased, slinking to her best friend's side. Willow let out a laugh as she greeted the Longfield brothers with a kiss to their cheeks before linking arms with Penelope, leading her over to the group of Shelby men, "I do believe your mother has outdone herself once again, Penny."

John had nudged his younger brother and motioned behind them. Finn had made the mistake of taking a drink as he turned around, causing him to choke on it. The two girls laughed as they walked closer as John and Michael were patting the boy on the back.

"You alright?" Penelope asked, stopping in front of Finn. Finn nodded his head as he turned to place his glass on a tray nearby, "You look...absolutely stunning."

Penelope felt her face heat up at his words as she placed her hand on his chest, "Ever so handsome, Mr Shelby."

Finn gave her a smile as he leaned down to place his lips on hers.

"Right," Camden spoke, causing the to to pull away from each other, "That's enough of that."

Penelope shot her older brother a look as he just smiled at her. James was hiding his smile behind his glass. The two boys loved teasing their sister when it came to Finn. They often dragged the couple away from each other during events, interrupting them before they could kiss.

"Everything went alright last night?" Penelope asked, looking between the group of boys. By now, Willow and Michael had joined in as Arthur and John went to find their wives.

Camden, Michael, and Finn had looked over at James, who shut his eyes as Camden smacked the back of his head, "You weren't supposed to tell her."

"Dad would have told me anyways. Or I would have found out."

Willow looked lost at what they were going on about so Michael had explained everything to her that happened over the last few days. Including how Isaiah was also involved.

"Oh bloody fucking hell." Willow whispered, downing the rest of Michael's drink.

"Everything went fine." Camden told Penelope, "But they won't just lie there and take it. They will retaliate."

Penelope took a deep breath, knowing Camden was right. Finn pulled her tighter against her as he placed a kiss on her forehead. Penelope shut her eyes and leaned into Finn's embrace, savoring the small moments with him

"And we'll be ready when they do." Michael spoke, pulling Willow into his side. James and Camden had left to go talk to John and Arthur as Isaiah had made his way over to the group.

Penelope had perked up at the sight of the oldest Jesus sibling and sent Willow a big grin as she realized what she was gonna do, "Penelope Haven, if you say what I think you're going to..."

"Isaiah!" Penelope cheered, "Just the boy I was looking for!"

Isaiah had shared a look with Finn who just looked as lost as he was as Michael had flushed in realization of what Penelope was about to do.

"Did you take snow before you came here?" Isaiah asked, causing Penelope to shake her head, "Just thought you might be interested in what I found your sister and best mate doing in his office the other day."

Finn had turned to hide his face in Penelope's hair as Isaiah quickly turned to face Willow and Michael, "What were you two doing in his office?"

"Shut up, Penny." Willow snapped as Penelope was laughing, Finn failing miserably to hide his laughter. Michael had placed some distance between him and his girlfriend, knowing that Isaiah wouldn't want to see them touching with the information he was just given.

"I need a fucking drink." Isaiah mumbled, turning to grab one of a table. After Isaiah had processed the information he was given, he started a conversation with Michael and Finn as Penelope and Willow talked about Audrey's dresses. Willow had noticed that Michael had tensed up under her arm and turned to face him, "Mikey, you alright?"

Michael stiffly nodded before excusing himself from the conversation. Penelope looked around where Michael was staring and only saw Tommy walking into the concert hall.

"Any idea what that was about?" Willow turned to face her brother and Finn, who just shrugged, "You're his girlfriend. You tell us."

Willow sent an exasperated look to her brother, "You're his best mate. Figured you would know."

"Doesn't mean I keep a book about him," Isaiah spoke, giving Willow the same look, "got better things to do with my life then watch 'Mikey', Willy."

Finn and Penelope glanced at each other, amused looks on their faces. The couple was often present for the many arguments of the Jesus twins, the two loving to rile each other up.

"Okay," Penelope spoke, pulling Willow to her side as Finn pulled Isaiah to his, "You guys can fight when we're not in the presence of Birmingham's finest. For Grace's sake."

The Jesus siblings looked at each before begrudgingly agreeing.

Willow had excused herself to find Michael as Isaiah followed after her. Penelope turned to look up at Finn who took a drag off his cigarette. And Penelope would be lying if she said it wasn't one of her favorite sights.

Like his brothers, he also took up the habit of always having a cigarette in his hand. Penelope smoked occasionally, mainly when she was with Finn.

"You really do look stunning, Pen." Finn smiled, looking at the blonde who smiled up at him, "Despite you wearing something like this everyday, you always look very handsome."

Finn gave her a short but sweet kiss as they made their way over to their brothers, who were now joined by Michael, Willow, and Isaiah.

Finn grabbed two glasses of whiskey off a tray as a waiter was walking by, handing the second one to Penelope. The blonde placed a kiss on his cheek as she wrapped her arm around him, leaning into his side.

Audrey had nudged her husband who was talking to one of his business partners from London. David turned to look at his wife, who motioned towards their daughter.

"I don't think I've ever seen her this happy before." Audrey had a smile on her face as she watched the young couple.

"They balance each other out," David spoke, "She keeps him grounded and he keeps her on her toes."

Audrey snorted in response as she leaned into her husband, "hell, he keeps all of us on our toes. But she's there to bring him back."

"He's not like his brothers. He's not as aggressive or violent as they are. Finn thinks before he does anything. He's more of an emotional being than he is physical. She needs that." David said, placing a kiss on Audrey's head.

"I look at them," Audrey started, " and I see us when we were young. In love and willing to risk everything to be together."

Audrey's parents didn't approve of her relationship with David when they were teens. Her parents were super religious and with David's family not believing at all, they didn't want her daughter with him. But they didn't care. They risked everything to be with each other. The same way they knew Finn and Penelope would also risk everything.

The gong for dinner rang and he asked everyone to raise a toast to the king. John had smacked Finn on the back of his head as he went to raise his glass as Penelope hid her smile behind her glass as she took a drink.

Finn offered his arm to the blonde as he went to lead them through the dining hall.

"For Angel!"

Everyone heard the gunshot before they could process what happened. Arthur had tackled the man as Finn, Camden, and John had joined the oldest Shelby sibling in beating the man.

James, Willow, Michael, and Isaiah rushed over to Penelope as they watched Tommy hold onto a bleeding Grace; David and Audrey rushing over to them. James held onto Penelope as the tears started to fall, Michael and Isaiah doing the same to Willow.

Not only was that the day Grace Shelby had died but it was also the day that Thomas Shelby stopped feeling

A/N

Please let me know if anyone is interested in being tagged in any upcoming parts for this series!

#finn shelby #finn shelby imagines #finn shelby imagine #finn shelby fanfic #harry kirton #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders imagine

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agathaharknes · 3 years

Note

yennaia + gamer au

This was supposed to be three sentences and definitely not crack but I just had to... sksjsjssksjjs.

Yennaia prompt: Gamer AU.

LINK TO ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN IN THE REPLIES.

Word count: 1.8k+ Pairing: Yennaia. Rating: T.

Tissaia really had no idea why she was doing this. Perhaps to appease Rita. Perhaps because her addiction to nicotine had worsened over the course of one year of a bloody Continent-wide pandemic and she was loath to use her credit card every time she needed a new pack of cigarettes. Perhaps she was going through a midlife crisis to cope with the fact that being the Chancellor of Aretuza College was already stressful enough without half the generations there trying to fool her subordinates into thinking cardboard replicas or even mannequins counted as attendance or simply because the rest of the Board of Governors (Stregobor) couldn't differentiate between what could be said through an email and what required her to clean her entire house so the background of her call was pristine.

Her controller vibrated in her hands, (Why, for the love of the Gods, couldn't that setting be turned off?) her knuckles turning white from gripping it so strongly. "Oh, for fu- heaven's sake." There, she had been ambushed. Again. A funny and wholly unexpected thing happened, though, one of the users turned on her companions, offing the lot of them with clean headshots the brunette definitely couldn't pull off in the span of twenty seconds.

"Uhh..." What does one say when your virtual saviour just betrayed her entire party on a whim and was being cursed at obnoxiously loudly and vulgarly for it?

Yennefer ignored Sabrina calling her names that absolutely applied to her and her hormonal reaction to a lovely blue-eyed MILF the likes of which she had only seen in her dreams. "No thanks needed, love. I was getting tired of seeing you frown like someone had keyed your car every time you got killed. A pretty thing like you should only have cause to smile." Oh, Gods, now she sounded like a creepy old man that lived in his mum's basement. Great. Good job. Her Social Studies major was an absolute hit. Fuck her life. Fuck Oxenfurt College. And fuck Sabrina's witch-like cackling while she was at it. "Name’s Yennefer." She choked out miserably.

Tissaia scowled at her laptop. Hackers. Amazing. This was the best day of her new normal life. "Mind telling me how you broke through the most expensive antivirus in the Continent, dear? Because now I really need a refund." Now she also needed to contact Aretuza’s IT team on a Saturday night, because she was not about to mess any further with these blasphemous machines, thank you very much.

Wait, what? "That wasn't me... You left your camera on." The woman legitimately squealed at that, her oversized jumper sliding down her left shoulder and exposing just a glimpse of her collarbone as she pinned up her hair into a bun with... were those pens fashioned as swords? Oh, bugger, this was so not the time to get turned on! "Are you alright?" Mercifully Sabrina, Renfri and Phillipa were already accosting someone else, else she was sure the brunette would've completely lost it, more than she already was doing, anyways. "Hello?" No answer.

Tissaia was fishing for her boots when she started ranting, “Oh, don’t you worry! I’m fine! Just dandy! This is exactly how I wanted my life to go.” She motioned with her hand to the space around her. “I wished for nothing more than dealing with complete morons from nine to six, five days a week, whilst trying to make sure my sanity doesn't desert me.” Biting her lower lip for a moment she began checking that the ends of the laces were the same length when she pulled them up. “Running right after to my local grocery store to buy more instant meals that are probably going to give me cancer in five years if the bullshit articles my mother keeps sending me-”

Yennefer had told herself she wasn’t going to allow this wasn’t going to get any creepier than her misguided comment but she still had a gift code for that nice liquor store which conveniently had retailers popping up every six blocks everywhere for the last few months, especially in Thanned isle, only Gods knew why. “This bloody succubus of a twat that is my best friend has been forcing me to constantly use this cursed game by changing the password for my email and then Aretuza’s server and then-” Bingo. One text to Philippa and they had her IP address, with a mortified Triss already calling Jaskier since she was the only one that had managed to get a decent scholarship at that posh college.

This was her future wife who was about to jump from a bridge from the looks of her and they just had to do humanity a great service by saving her from herself and from sobriety.

“Can you believe that tosser? I am a lesbian! I spent my teenage years clad in flannel until my girlfriends staged an intervention kind of lesbian! Yes, Vilgefortz, I will sue you for harassment in the workplace and I will blacklist you. No, Vilgefortz, I don’t want to break quarantine to go on a date with you and I definitely do not want your disgusting cologne anywhere near my-” Tissaia’s head shot up, her doorbell was ringing and she pinched the bridge of her nose, reaching for a new, disposable, mask.

“You stay right there.” She threatened the girl, who had the most beautiful violet… Perhaps she really ought to let Coral get her a therapist. It rang again. “Gods-damn-it.” She thought.

Her plan was going marvellously. She would only have to sleep with a knife under her pillow for a few weeks for blackmailing Sabrina (Who honestly hadn’t the slightest talent to pass off plagiarism as a sudden stroke of genius in her final project without her aid.) into going along with this. The blonde was lighting the candles around the monitor without trying to burn her hair off and had given away her best bottle of cheap but still good wine for the cause. Thanks to Renfri and her frankly psychotic, owl obsessed, girlfriend she already knew what she would be replacing her trauma-ridden last name with! Splendid!

The brunette shut the door on Jaskier’s face after taking the brown paper bag from his hands, spraying the bottle of vodka inside it with so much disinfectant that it dripped down onto her carpet. Taking off her gloves and disposing of them, she grabbed a knife from the counter and ignoring the annoying blue light that came from the kitchen table, “Oh, shit. You’re soulmates. I’ll tell the rest of the girls we’re all fucked.” Tissaia cut off the upper part of the glass in one smooth hit, like Calanthe had taught her when the then teacher could still be considered fun by her groups of friends.

“Shut up, tiddybug!” She heard Yennefer sing-song.

Feeling like being crass the blue-eyed woman took a rather large swing directly from the bottle. Sitting back down, she sighed. Yennefer took a dignified sip from her wine; she could do balanced when her significant other to-be needed to let loose. “Did you like the bottle? It has good reviews from… wait a minute… apparently several alcoholics who don’t know what a budget is.”

Tissaia’s face paled. “I thought you weren’t a hacker.” The woman muttered. She didn’t fancy getting kidnapped and… No, no, no. Fucking Rita. What was the cost of moving, again? If she slept four hours less a day and split her cleaning time in two she could probably trade this house for Stregobor's in-

“I am not!” Yennefer cried. Bloody hell. “You just mentioned that you worked at Aretuza and-” Sabrina had probably started a group call and Phillipa was indeed hacking into her computer to save her arse. The Redanian was currently writing a script for her to follow. “Your username in the game is your surname. My friends and I tried to get into that school a few years back and I do remember that the Chancellor is a woman and that her last name is de Vries.” Her username wasn’t her last name, it was actually something that suggested she was an Ice Queen of the highest order. Queen Elsa from the movie Frozen would be intimidated kind of Ice Queen.

“Everyone is aware the highest-ranking members of the faculty live in chalets near the castle, pardon, the building.” True. According to Triss, that was a part of their contract that if unfulfilled prohibited them from working there ever again. To Yennefer that seemed borderline cruel, forcing them to be available at all hours like circus animals for juniors that didn’t deserve their spots.

“My best friend is a student there and she knows which one is your home because she wants to eventually be a teacher.” Partially true. Until that day came, Triss, like any rational individual, avoided the Chapter’s Village like the plague lingered inside, and wouldn’t be caught dead there unless she had to stop Sabrina from doing something stupid because of the anarchist phase she was going through. Jaskier was an acquaintance of hers of sorts because Triss had tutored his boyfriend Geralt in Biology and being daddy’s boy, he knew which one was Tissaia’s house because he had almost gotten expelled like fifteen times.

“I honestly just wanted to do something nice for you, you sounded like you needed it and… I know quarantine hasn’t been lifted once in Temeria since it all started.” Philippa wrote then that she would probably make for a decent actor without flashing her breasts to the audience every five minutes. She pursed her lips and replied in the mock post-it note to fuck off.

“I… I… Thank you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed- I’m sorry, darling.” Her pale cheeks flushed at the term of endearment that slipped her tongue and Tissaia bowed down her head, red-painted nails caressing the glass bottle almost reverently. “Say, why don’t you tell me what your email address is and I send you my mobile via chat? The explosions in the background aren’t that, uhm, comforting to listen to when I’d much rather be hearing your voice.” Should she have looked up she would have seen the smile that threatened to split Yennefer’s face. “Only if you want to, of course! I- what am I even saying? Never mi-”

“No! Wait!” She placated. Sabrina squeezed her shoulder as she went to retrieve her phone charger, offering her a genuine smile. “I’d love to.”

“Okay.” Said Tissaia, an awed sound leaving her throat when blue finally meet with lilac. Gods, she was drop-dead gorgeous. Rita could have whichever bottle, all the liquor she wanted from the school’s cellar for indirectly enabling this.

Was one week a proper enough courting period to then buy the engagement ring? Or should she just have Philippa get her the best, costliest one from that jewellery eshop they all liked through some minor fraud that would take her like half an hour at most, today? “Good.” Yennefer de Vries had such a nice ring to it.

#yennaia #tissaia de vries #post: ask #ship: yennaia #writing*#sityiatwru*

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imagine-that-one-thing · 4 years

Text

Her Majesty. || Chapter 13

The Life of Saint Barbara

Anastasia’s pov

The room is silent while everyone stares at Harry and me, waiting for answers, answers that I do not want to give. I don’t want any of this. My heart continues to beat rapidly with every silent moment that passes and I swear for a moment, I stop breathing.

One, Two, Three, Four… I’m still breathing… Barely.

Now is the time I require Harry to say something, anything. I need him to break the silence and tell me that this is all some misunderstanding.

I don’t think Harry is going to want to stay married to me after this. I might win the world's shortest marriage, all because he has now been thrown into being a King, literally.

“It can’t be your bodyguard, that’s ludicrous. It’s the man you’re dating and soon to marry, Henry. Although I did read somewhere you’re dating Louis.”

“Oh, fuck,” Harry mutters under his breath. Finally speaking. “Christ, Anna.”

Of all the things to say, he could have come up with something better, but I’m not sure what I expected him to say. Harry cannot fix this or change things.

“I’m already married,” I shake my head, “I married Harry, so all your previous scheming didn’t work. Harry is legally the King, not Henry.” I notify everybody who’s gawking at me, my hand reaching for my necklace that has my rings attached to it, “If you need the wedding certificate, it was signed just a few hours ago. Ink hasn’t even dried.”

I glance towards my mother who has tears in her eyes, “I’m sorry, I had no choice… we had no choice but to hide it. Dad wouldn’t listen and kept pushing Henry.”

My mother shakes her head, “He was right.”

“What?”

“Your father… He said you two were in love but I thought it was just a fling.” My mother begins to chuckle, “You two got married behind our backs? I’m proud. You chose love over the monarchy, and it all backfired on them.” She proceeds to laugh, “You and your father played the monarchy and it’s about fucking time.”

“Mum… are you okay?” I question, unsure of whether this is a defence mechanism or not. How can she be laughing? Her husband just died and she just found out her only daughter got married behind her back. This is not a laughing matter. I find none of this entertaining.

“How are you married? You’re meant to be with Henry.” The man interrupts.

“Oh, take a hike Georgie. Face it, they’re married, Harry is King and Henry is still nothing but a Prince at the bottom of the food chain whose family killed my husband.”

“It’s George,” Georgie corrects my mother, “I don’t understand…”

“Let me make it clear, my husband is Harry, not Henry. Now please, can you all leave? My father just died and I’d like some peace.” … “Harry, sign the papers so Georgie can leave and you can escort Henry out.” I hand Harry the envelope with papers that need signing.

“Uhm,” Harry hums, “Darling, I’m not signing the papers to be King.” Harry shakes his head, declining to take the papers from my hands.

I do not blame him, the role of King is not something to take lightly and to have it thrown at you is a whole other level of crazy.

“Sign the damn things, Harold.” My mother commands persistently and harshly, taking us all by surprise with her voice like booming thunder.

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry immediately responds, “But, it’s Harry.” He politely corrects her.

“Don’t sign those papers and it’ll be Harold. Believe me, I can make sure everybody calls you Harold.” my mother threatens and Harry glances around as he clears his throat.

Harry takes the pen from George and scribbles his signature across the dotted line, “Does this mean Henry has to bow down to me?” Harry questions with a smirk, somewhat amused, suddenly.

“Technically, we all do,” I respond, shoving the papers towards George and smiling at Henry as he stands speechless. “Now… I’d like to go home, please, Harry.”

When I say ‘home’ I’m not quite sure where it is I want to go, the Palace isn’t home, and as I think of things, I don’t have a foundation for where home truly is. It’s not the Palaces or the extravagant estates that the royals own, it’s unknown. I don’t know where home is, I don’t know where I want to truly go, all I know is I want to go anywhere with Harry.

“We can find a hotel,” Harry nods, taking a quick glance at his watch.

“No, I want to go home, like fly home, take me anywhere but here.”

“You two can’t fly together,” Louis comments, interrupting my request.

I raise a brow and side-eye him, unsure of what he’s talking about.

“If something happens to Harry, you become Queen. Two heirs cannot fly together.”

“Louis, all due respect, but I’m not flying alone. I don’t care if he’s King or not, I want to go home with Harry.” My response is bitter and harsh, and to be honest, I don’t give a damn.

I want to go home, I am not sure where home truly is, but I want to go where the sheets are soft and have a familiar scent of clean linens, I want to go where things are calm and collected, I want to go where I can breathe. I want to go anywhere but here.

♛ ♛ ♛

I draw the covers away from Harry’s warm body and I begin to shake him awake, “What? What’s wrong?” He hastily mumbles, his eyes opening, his hand reaching to the side table as he sits up.

“Don’t,” I stop his hand from grabbing his pistol, “It’s time to get up,” I instruct.

Harry rubs the sleep from his eyes before glancing over at the clock that blinks with the time, “It’s four in the morning, baby, what’s wrong? We just fell asleep”

“We have things to do. I have to communicate the news to the governments of the fifteen other countries of which the King was the head of state and to the governments of the other countries of the,” I inform Harry of the task that I have on my mind.

There’s no time nor need to sleep when so much needs to be done. “I have to tell A footman to pin a dark-edged notice to the gates of Buckingham Palace and—”

“Anna, darling,” Harry cuts me off swiftly, “You don’t have to do all that, there are people who do it.”

I shake my head, ignoring his comment, “The day after the King’s death, the meet at to proclaim the new monarch. We have to prep you for it. Parliament meets tomorrow evening and they to the new monarch, which is you.”

“Go back to sleep, Anastasia,” Harry instructs, stretching the sheets and the blankets back over his body.

I gaze at him and shake my head, my hand reaching for the covers and hauling them back off of him. Harry wearily sighs, “Anastasia, I am not the King, I am not meeting parliament, and you don’t need to be taking care of all these things, you need some rest.”

“Don’t tell me what I need,” I bluntly respond, “Are you going to help me or are you going to go back to bed?”

Harry shakes his head and encompasses his fingers through his hair, “I have no choice,” he tiredly responds, “Let me put some clothes on… I don’t know what you plan to do at four in the morning but I’ll support you,” Harry responds, slowly forcing himself off and out of the bed.

“My Dad will be here at six.”

“Excuse me?” Harry questions, reaching for a long sleeve shirt to match with his sweatpants.

“He is being bought by to and then by car to Buckingham Palace.”

“I’m not trying to sound intensive but… He’s staying here?” Harry questions, seeming at a loss for what I am talking about.

I nod my head. I’m not sure where else Harry thought my Dad would be staying.

“Oh,” Harry trails off as he shakes his head, a clear indication he has thoughts but he is not going to speak them out loud.

“You need to stop reaching for the pistol every time I wake you up,” I comment, turning a small lamp on so I can make my way around the room.

Harry just shakes his head and mutters under his breath as he adjusts his sweater with a grunt, clearly displeased and far from settled.

♛

The palace is relatively tranquil at this hour, most of the staff are in the kitchen or laundry beginning the preparations for the day, and everyone else is more than likely asleep. The Palace at this hour is always a calming time, there isn’t much of a hurry and bustle, things are at a slower pace for the most part, and the Palace is nice and quiet besides the small chatter of the Palace staff.

Harry trudges beside me, his arm around my waist as we wander the hallways of the Palace. I’m not quite sure what my first task is that I need to do, but I’ll figure that out when I get downstairs to the main floor. “I don’t want any tours held, can you make sure there are no public tours?”

Harry nods his head, “Whatever you need me to do.”

“I don’t want you on security.”

“Mmm, I’m going to be on security,” Harry responds without missing a beat, “That’s not changing. Security is heightened, I’m not stepping down or taking any sort of leave of absence, sorry.” Harry responds with everything but a sincere apology.

“But—“

“No, Anna,” Harry interrupts me firmly, his tone of voice a strong indication he doesn’t want to discuss the subject any further.

“I don’t want what happened to my Dad to happen to you.”

“Anastasia, darling, I will be fine, Matthew and I have set in motion what will happen for the next few weeks.”

“What is that?”

Harry sighs and stops walking. He turns to face me, “We all wear vests for public outings or announcements, there’s a strict code, there will be more security on the grounds. You will always be watched.”

“Oh, great,” I roll my eyes, “I’ll have no privacy.” I huff.

“You will be on my service for the most part.”

“Is that meant to make me feel better?” I bitterly question, unsure of his purpose with his comment.

“Are you looking for an argument at this hour?” Harry questions and raises a brow towards me. Before I can respond, he sighs and leans closer to me, kissing my lips lightly, “I love you, but I need coffee so I’m not a dick.”

“Coffee doesn’t always change that, ya know?” I half-smile at him in a joking manner, “I love you, too. My comment was mean, I know being on your service is better than nothing.”

Harry nods his head, “If you don’t want to be on my service—“ Harry begins.

I instantly cut him off, “I want to be with you. I don’t want anyone else this week.” I inform him.

I don’t want anybody else on my service mainly because I know deep down this week is going to be one of the hardest. The next twelve days will be rough and I want to have the comfort of knowing Harry is there at all hours for me. I don’t anticipate a breakdown or to entirely lose myself, I plan to keep myself occupied and get everything done, but it gives me peace of mind to know he’s there as both my husband and security guard.

Harry doesn’t say a word, he simply nods and we continue to walk the palace, making our way towards the kitchen. Harry opens the door for me and I step inside, the smell of fresh bread and fresh coffee instantly filling my senses. “Mornin’ Harry,” the head of the kitchen grins, “Good morning, princess, Eleanor,” She beams.

“Morning, Grace. What are you making this morning?” Harry challenges as he shuffles closer towards the counters, taking a look at the foods Grace has prepared, “Smells lovely as always, please tell me these are scones,” Harry excitedly breathes out, lifting a white sheet.

Grace slaps his hand away and Harry steps back from the baked goods, “You know not to sticky-nose,” Grace laughs, “They’re not ready yet, I’ll have one of the ladies bring you a few… Princess, would you like anything?”

I shake my head, “No, thank you.”

“Just here to steal some coffee if you don’t mind?” Harry questions, already making his way to the steaming coffee that has already been made on the stove.

“You know where everything is,” Grace gestures kindly.

I can only assume Harry comes down here fairly often and has the sort of a relationship with the staff where they have no clue about his private life but they find him charming enough to let him do as he pleases in the kitchen and helps himself. “Grace,” Harry begins while he grabs two cups from a shelf. “You said the private door through the kitchen wasn’t opening?”

“Yeah. It’s getting harder to pull on the handle, it’s almost impossible and in an emergency, dangerous. I keep telling the staff not to slam the damn thing.”

“I’ll come down and fix it later, you still keeping an eye on the cameras for me?”

“As always,” Grace nods, “I’m going to start charging you for my work.”

“Add it to my tab,” Harry chuckles, “I’ll be waiting for the scones.”

Grace rolls her eyes and shoos Harry towards me, “on ya go, outta my kitchen, smartass.”

“Have a good day, Grace,” Harry laughs, stepping towards me and handing me my coffee before the two of us leave the kitchen staff.

I wonder about how much Harry interacts with the other members of the staff, I know the Lady’s Maids always gush over him but they always express how he is quiet and doesn’t talk much nor does anyone know about his private life. Grace is the only one I have heard him hold a conversation with, and it makes me wonder why he doesn’t seem to have many friends or why he doesn’t talk often to those who work in the Palace.

♛ ♛ ♛

I sip on my coffee on the front steps of the palace; I inhale the crisp morning air and the quietness of the grounds. I don’t remember the last time I was permitted to stand in front of the palace in utter silence without anyone taking pictures or crowds applauding my family. In a few hours, these very steps that I stand on will be covered with various flowers in remembrance of the king, some sent from other royals, some sent from other countries and some will be placed by our people. The stairs of the palace will be open to the public to allow them to show their appreciation with candles and flowers while monitored closely by the security team.

“We never got to cut the cake.”

“What?”

“We never got to cut the wedding cake or have our first dance.”

There’s a few things we didn’t get to do before my world came crashing down on me. Our wedding day was meant to be perfect, and it was, up until I was given the news. Most girls’ dream of their wedding day, from the dress to the venue, to the colour schemes, everything is planned intricately. No matter how well my day was planned, my wedding day will always hold bitter memories. I am not sure what I expected considering nothing has ever gone to plan before, but I had hoped for one day, just one.

Harry nods his head, his free hand reaching into his pocket and drawing out a set of keys, “Here,” Harry places the keys in my hand.

“Am I meant to lock my sorrows and sadness away with these?” I chuckle jokingly, unsure of why he’s handing me a set of keys.

“Ha, hilarious,” Harry rolls his eyes, “My car is right there, you’re driving.” Harry gestures towards the car that is parked towards the side.

“How is your car here?” I ask, well aware that he left it in Cheshire when he got the call about the King. As soon as Mathew knew, he had a car ready and waiting while Harry told me the news that destroyed me.

“My sister was kind enough to drive it down for me, left the keys with Grace,” Harry responds, stepping down the cold stone steps and walking towards his car. Harry glances over his shoulder and stops for a moment, “You coming or not?” Harry asks and I nod, quickly following and hopping down the steps.

I reach his car and Harry kindly opens the driver’s side door for me, allowing me to get in. I place my coffee cup in the side holder and I turn the key into the ignition. I play with the heat settings while Harry gets in on the passenger side. “I’m not allowed to leave, Harry.”

Harry leans back as he reaches for his seat belt and buckles himself in, “Since when have you enjoyed listening to the protocol?” Harry remarks.

He has a point, I have never been one to listen, but right now, I don’t have it in me to be rebellious.

“Since the King was brutally murdered and I am sure that I am next.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Harry instantly insists, “I already messaged Matthew that you were with me, it is fine. Now, drive.”

“Why? You never let me drive.”

“Drive, Anna, go anywhere,” Harry presses, “Just don’t wreck my car,” Harry chuckles, adjusting his shoulder with a small grimace before I begin to drive with an unknown destination.

I am never allowed to drive, and it has been one thing I have never really questioned, I don’t mind having other people drive me around, mainly because I get anxious when there are a lot of people on the road. It always seemed more beneficial to have a driver, one of the only royal benefits I relished.

As the car engine eradicates the silence between us, my deep thoughts slip through the cracks and eat me alive, continuously circling me and drawing me under, forcing me into a state of mind I don’t want to be in. I observe the tugging of my heartstrings and the lump in my throat that is trying to hold back the emotions my thoughts are pushing through.

I don’t want to think, I don’t want to listen to my thoughts or feelings. I want it to end.

“Harry, speak,” I instruct heavily, almost demanding him to speak.

“What?” Harry challenges, breaking the moment of silence.

“Talk, I need you to talk.”

“What would you like to talk about?” Harry offers.

I shake my head and grip the steering wheel tighter, “I don’t care, I can’t handle the silence and my thoughts, I need you to speak.”

“Let it out, Anna.”

“Let what out?” I snap. I do not know what he wants me to let out, it isn’t as though I can allow everything to spill out and miraculously have things changed and back to normal.

“What is it you want me to let out? Are you wanting me to suffer from the silence and break down? Is that what you want? Do you want me to tell you that even though my father had his flaws, I wish I had called him that morning when I woke up?” … “Do you want me to tell you how I can’t do this? This isn’t how it was meant to be? There, I’ve said it. Okay? This is killing me and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t fix any of it—“ I let out between heavy breaths and crystal tears that have been threatening to fall since I got on the flight here. “This wasn’t what was meant to happen.”

“Pull over,” Harry instructs, reminding me that I’m still driving and have both of our lives in my hands as I cry and let my anger out.

I pull the car to the side of the road and lean back on the chair, my hands releasing the steering wheel and shaking as I place them in my lap. Harry’s prompt to put the car in park and I just gaze into the abyss of nothingness that stares at me through the windshield. For a moment, the abyss is calming and tranquil, nothing but tears streaming down my warm cheeks while I attempt to steady my breathing and push my heavy thoughts away.

Harry opens my door and unbuckles my seat belt before gently grabbing my arm and tugging me out of the car, “Come here.”

“No, I don’t need the sympathy! I don’t need the hugs. Nothing changes what happened.” I attempt to push him away as I stand to my feet, “He’s gone, he can’t come back, they got what they wanted and I’m left with nothing. They took him and the monarch helped! They fucking helped, Harry!”

“I know, Anna, I know.”

I shake my head, “There’s no coming back, that’s it… my last words are my last words, I can’t change it. I didn’t call that morning, I should have—“ my voice breaks before I can finish my sentence.

Harry wraps his arms around me and for a few moments, I push and shove, fighting him off for no reason besides I don’t know what else to do, I don’t know how to control or handle the grief. I can’t constrain how I feel, I don’t even understand how I feel right now. He doesn’t let me go, instead, he holds me tighter and I weep into him, finally retreating and letting my guard down.

His hand holds the back of my head and his arm stays securely around me as I fall entirely into him, “Okay, okay, it’s okay,” Harry whispers, lowering us both to the ground gradually, “I have you, it’s okay,” he continues, letting me cry it out on the side of the road in darkness.

Harry calms me down and I lift my head from his shirt, finally gazing up at him. Harry’s lips curve into a small smile while his eyes shine from the reflection of the headlights of the car. He moves his hand up to my face and with the pad of his thumb, he wipes away the tear stains, “It’s okay to let it out, it’s okay to lose control, Anastasia.”

“I don’t like losing control and feeling this.”

“Nobody does,” Harry continues to wipe away tears, “I’m so sorry for what you have to deal with, I wish I could change things for you. I’m here for you, Anna. You don’t have to fill your schedule and do everything by yourself. It’s okay to grieve and let it out, it’s okay to not be okay.”

“It hurts,” I inform him.

The feelings hurt, the memories hurt, the unknown hurts. Everything aches and I don’t want to feel the despondency. I don’t want to hear the thoughts or the memories. In my mind, if I keep myself occupied, I don’t have to listen to my thoughts and feelings, I simply won’t have the time for it. If I put my energy to helping with the arrangements, I won’t cry as much, I won’t be as hostile and I won’t feel all these emotions that I can’t wholly explain.

Harry lets out a small breath, “I know, baby, I know.” Harry carefully stands to his feet and helps me up, “I love you, I hope you don’t forget that.”

“I don’t plan to,” I sniffle, using my sleeve to wipe away a few more tears, “I love you, too. But you stole my crown,” I half-heartedly joke, feeling the need to shed some light on things instead of shedding tears.

“Do you want it back?” Harry grins.

I shake my head, “No, not right now,” I respond, “You can keep it. Give it back once the hard work is done.

“I’ll make a mental note,” Harry chuckles, leading me towards the passenger side of his car.

“Guess I’m not driving?”

Harry shakes his head, “Not a chance.”

“Did you plan this?” I softly ask as he opens the door for me.

Harry doesn’t respond, he simply gestures for me to slide into his car, “You did… didn’t you?”

“I know you well enough to know that if you’re waking me up at four in the morning, you’re definitely not okay. I knew you’d break and tell me what was running through your head, I just wasn’t expecting a full break down.”

“You could have just asked me to tell you.”

“Would you have told me?”

I shake my head with a small smirk, “Probably not.”

“Exactly, watch your feet,” Harry gestures as he closes the door and walks around the front of his car to reach the driver’s side.

Harry’s POV.

A pounding knock at my door wakes me from my slumber and I instantly shoot up in the bed, the covers falling to my waist while Matthew barges into the bedroom, flicking the lights off and blinding me. “Christ,” I mutter, shielding my eyes from the intense light, “What’s the matter?” I groan, unsure of why Matthew is in the bedroom, barging in and flicking on the lights at such an ungodly hour.

“Where’s your wife?”

“What? In bed?” I respond, tiredly reaching my arm over to pet her side of the bed, “Anna?” Her name leaves my lips as I feel the space beside me. I am swift to shift my attention to her side of the bed that is cold and vacant. I shift the covers off my body and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, glancing at Matthew with nothing but uncertainty written across my face. “Anastasia?” I knock on the bathroom door and open it, my hand pushing against the wall to find the light switch. The light illuminates the room and I see nothing but an unoccupied bathroom.

I turn around and face Matthew, “Where is Anna? What’s going on?”

“That is why I am here, she’s meant to be with you.”

“She fell asleep with me. Did she go to her mother’s room?”

Matthew shakes his head, “No, the Queen is asleep and Oliver has been guarding her door.”

I spread my fingers through my hair before grabbing my phone from the side table, wasting no time calling her phone.

One, two, three...

The phone call goes straight to voicemail. Fuck.

“Have them check the camera’s, every room needs to be monitored,” I firmly instruct, reaching for a jacket and a pair of shoes. I rest on the edge of the bed and throw Matthew my phone, “Check the app that tracks our locations, it’ll show her last location, might be easier to find her in the damn Palace.” I mutter, hurrying to tie my shoes and gather my thoughts, various things racing through my head, all of the thoughts leading towards the possibility of something critical happening to her. Which, I am not sure how considering security is so damn high right now.

“Harry, she left the palace.”

“What?” My eyes grow wide, as Matthew’s words roll off his lips.

When I came to bed an hour ago she was in bed and asleep, she didn’t even stir when I crawled into the bed. I remember she was curled up on her side of the bed, her hand under her pillow with the comforter and a blanket over her. I turned off the bedside light that was still flickering at the ungodly hour and when I rested my head down on my pillow, I felt her place the tips of her fingers to touch my arm.

What I did not expect was for her to abruptly sneak out of the room and palace.

“She left, her phone has her location at a club.”

“Excuse me?” I stare at Matthew, unsure if I heard him correctly or if my tiredness is taking over and deceiving me. I shake my head disapprovingly.

“What do we do?” Matthew challenges me.

“You’re the head of security… why are you asking me?”

“You’re the King, I have to have your permission—“ Matthew begins and I roll my eyes.

“All due respect, since I have the opportunity to handle this, I want the castle on lockdown, nobody leaves and nobody enters unless we approve, you can decide protocol from there; I’m going to go find her,” I mutter, reaching for my keys, wallet and pistol by my bed. “Don’t alarm the press but we need half the security team with us to help look for her and secure areas.”

“Should we keep calling her?”

I shake my head, “She’s not going to answer. This isn’t like her.”

“Do you think she is spiralling?”

I nod my head, “No doubt.”

Anastasia does not sneak off to this extent, she does not just use the tunnels to get what she wants… It amazes me she managed to get out of the tunnels without being seen, then again, she is smart, she knows these tunnels well enough to get her way in and out without me.

** ** **

The club is hot and sweaty, the music is loud and pounding against my head. I’m not old or a party pooper, but after being woken up at four this morning to Anna insisting on us doing royal duties and then having to work, I’m tired… I have been up for just under twenty-four hours and the pounding music is doing nothing besides causing a headache and making me wish I was still in bed, wrapped up in my blankets without a care in the world.

My phone vibrates and I instantly check it in the hopes it’s Anastasia, but it’s Matthew.

“Go to the bartender and tell him you’re looking for Lavender.”

I raise a brow but I don’t question the text message, instead, I march to the bar and graciously yet vigorously make my way to the front. The bartender glances at me and gestures for my order, “I’m looking for Lavender.” I notify him, unsure of what Lavender is meant to get me in terms of locating Anastasia.

The man nods his head and gestures for me to follow his lead, he steps to the far left of the bar and pulls the half-door open, allowing me behind the bar with him, “She’s under the bar, I tried to keep her out of the public eye, a few people saw her but I simply told them it was my sister from Manchester.”

“Thank you for not publicising her.”

“No problem, but I’d make sure she doesn’t do this again. Everyone has phones these days to document this.”

I nod my head and I crouch down under the bar where Anastasia sits with her back against the wooden panels, a pair of heels by her side and her stockings ripped up her left leg. I want to scold her, I want to be angry and explain how ridiculously stupid and irresponsible this is on so many levels. I want to tell her how much danger she could have put herself in, but I can’t bring myself to let the harsh words fall from my lips. “Hey, baby,” I whisper, pushing a few strands of fallen hair behind her ear, “You ready to go home?”

Anastasia shakes her head, “Where’s home? The palace isn’t home. Home is where Dad welcomes me.”

“Sweetheart…” I begin, my heartbreaking as she looks down at the hands in her lap, sadness and disappointment evident with every moment that passes, “Home is wherever you make it, sweetheart. Home isn’t just four walls. Home is where you are. Your Dad is always with you no matter where you go. C’mon, let’s get you back to the palace and in bed.”

“Home is with you,” Anastasia whispers tiredly.

I softly smirk to myself and I nod, “Can you stand up and walk?” I request, unsure of how intoxicated she is. Her eyes tell me she has been drinking and mourning, but I’m not sure how much she has managed to drink before the bartender cut her off and hid her.

I place my arm around Anna and I help her stand up, her feet stumbling under her legs while she holds onto me like a child holding on for dear life, “Fuckin’ hell,” I mutter, “How much have you drank?” I question, holding her close to me so she doesn’t fall.

“Until the card stopped.”

“What card?” I curiously ask.

“Yours,” Anastasia responds honestly, “Can’t use mine, it’ll track me.”

“I gave you my card in case of emergencies,” I sigh, shaking my head as I guide her away from behind the bar and we use a back exit to avoid the public.

I get Anastasia out the door and we stumble across the stone pavements of a back alley and I let out a heavy breath as we have a moment to stop. I shrug my jacket off my shoulders and and I slide it up her arms, the windchill dancing between us. If she managed to conduct a way to sneak out and go to a bar, I would have thought she had enough sense to at least grab a jacket of some sort.

I use my phone to call Matthew and my other hand holds onto Anastasia by my jacket as she stumbles around, unable to stand still. “She’s fucking wasted, can’t walk a straight line to save her life, where’s the nearest car?” I mutter.

“I am not wasted,” Anastasia interrupts.

I hear Matthew chuckle on the other end of the phone before he clears his throat and informs me the car is three minutes away and to stay where we are and away from anyone who could report to the news outlets that the Princess is drunk off her ass.

*** ***

The security chambers have taken most of my attention, in a way, it has been a way to escape and take a minute to breathe and compose my thoughts and feelings towards what has happened. Although I don’t like Anastasia bluntly expressing the fact that whoever killed her father is more than likely going to come to her, I am scared she is correct. I want to avenge her father’s murderer, no doubt, but there is more than one. I am sure they’re all in on things. I need to continue to keep an eye on Henry, although I don’t think he is too much of a threat, I don’t think he can be forgotten about, he is still one of them, he still wants money and the crown as his mother did, however; I don’t think Henry will go to the extreme lengths Victoria did. Considering he doesn’t appear shocked about his mother’s unexpected disappearance and death, I don’t think he was much of a fan of his mother. Part of me believes that he is only apart of the schemes because of his mother. She was a powerful and manipulative lady, I believe she had a tight grip on her son and didn’t let him stray too far from her evil plans.

I glance over towards the camera’s, making sure nothing strange is happening. The workers are doing their duties and bustling around the palace and from what I can see, Anastasia is still in her room. As much as I wish she would come out of her room and act more lively, I would rather she stays in her room than to catch her sneaking out again. I don’t think she will be trying to leave the palace unattended, she is well aware that we have the palace on a strict lockdown, nobody enters or leaves without permission, cameras are on in ALL areas, including her room and the tunnels, and there is security detail roaming the tunnels. She can’t sneak out, she can’t escape. Her room has always been private and only watched when highly necessary, and I think now it is highly necessary, the last thing we need is for her to be out in public and unattended. I tap my fingers against the desk and cock my head to the side, the sudden realisation of things jostling me. Geroge and Henry managed to get to the hospital promptly considering they were meant to be in London while the King was brutally murdered in Germany. It’s almost as though they knew before anyone else.

The door to the chambers open and I glare towards the door but I instantly adjust my stare as Matthew walks in with a well-dressed woman who walks with power and authority.

“You’re busy, I see,” the woman smiles and I close my laptop before standing to my feet to greet her.

“I am, Prime Minister, and what do I owe this visit?” I offer her my hand to shake.

“We need to talk, it is the protocol, considering the events of things.” She trails off, referencing the fact the King died and I am now in power.

Matthew clears his throat and looks at me, “Harry, I will be heading to Anna’s room if you need me,” Matthew informs me, his eyes glancing down to his left wrist at his watch, a small indication for me to make this a prompt visit and conversation.

I nod my head, “Please, get her to eat something, it is noon and she hasn’t gotten out of bed.”

“I will do my best,” Matthew responds before exiting the chambers, leaving me with the Prime Minister who I have only met on a few occasions while being on the former King’s service.

“Before I have to talk to you about your protocol, I have a question, if I may?” I softly ask, doing my best not to sound like a dick or too much like a bodyguard; I am not trying to intimidate her by any means. Not that I think I would intimidate her, she seems highly powerful, but I tend to have an unrelenting stare and tone of voice.

She nods her head, permitting me to continue, “When did you find out about the King’s death?” I question, well aware that she would have been the first person to find out, but I assumed nobody would have made the call until the early hours, not right as Anna and I received the call.

“It was about nine, the Queen called.”

“But he wasn’t pronounced dead at that time,” I inform her, mentally tracing back my own steps of what occurred the night the King passed away.

“I was told he was in critical condition. Where are you going with this?”

“Who told George and at what time? He was determined to have Henry sign the papers, who told Henry?”

“Once I got the call, I had to announce it to the members of parliament to prepare for the worst. You have your protocols, I have mine.” She is stern with her power, asserting her dominance. I know she has her ways of operating things and I have my own, but her means of protocol don’t make sense with some of the events that took place soon after I received the call.

I bend my head, deciding now isn’t the time to ask more questions, I need to get back to working and figuring things out. “What are you here for?” I challenge.

“We need to discuss your reigning as King.”

I immediately shake my head, not desiring to discuss the fact I am the King by default. “All due respect, but no.” My words are straight to the point and blunt.

“Prime minister, let her be Queen so I can continue to my real job,” I view towards the prime minister who insisted on meeting me despite the fact I am busy working.

The prime minister stares at me and shakes her head, “You have to stay King, Harry.”

“No, the fuck I don’t, Philippa. The crown is rightfully Anna’s. I can’t pretend to play King. I know nothing about any of this besides the fact it has ruined her family.” I point out the obvious. Am not ready to run a country, I am not ready to even run the palace.

“If you refuse to be King, it goes to the next in line. Please, call me Pippa.”

“And who’s that, Pippa? It ought to be Anna, she’s next in line.”

Anastasia is the person who should accept the crown, it shouldn’t be me. I have no clue what I’m doing, she has been raised for this, she knows about the entire system and what should occur. I don’t know the first thing about commonwealth attires or how to control a country. All I know how to do is operate a security team for the royals. My job entails keeping everyone safe, not ruling a monarch that is gradually destroying my wife.

Anastasia has possessed the privilege of learning from her mother and father in what to do. Yes, her father wasn’t the most prominent ruler towards the end, but before the Ace’s caused havoc on the family, he was a damn good leader. He governed with an iron fist but was fair. It was rare for any one of the public to complain about the monarch or how it was run, the people were, are, content. The people don’t want me, a simple commoner, to manage the monarch, they don’t desire to observe me execute changes and discuss things with parliament, they require to see Anastasia, the woman they have observed over the years. I cannot govern the United kingdom and the fifteen other Commonwealth realms, I can’t even name all fifteen of the Commonwealth realms. I don’t know about the coming legislation that needs signing and voting on, I am not good with public speaking and addressing the matters of the country.

Any legislation enacted by Parliament must receive the Royal Assent before becoming law. No monarch has withdrawn to give Royal Assent since 1707 when that would have recreated the Scottish militia after England and Scotland were formally unified.

But what if I make the wrong decision and allow a bill to pass while I am in charge and it cripples the country?

What if I make the wrong decisions and ruin everything?

I may despise the monarchy right now but I don’t think Anna or her parents’ would ever forgive me if I was to ravage everything they have worked so strenuously for.

Pippa wearily sighs, almost as if I am inconveniencing her. “And do you think she’s fit to be Queen? Have you seen the papers?” Pippa reveals to me her phone that has the headlines of Anastasia’s drunken night out at the bar.

I stare at the screen and mentally roll my eyes. Once Pippa leaves, I’ll be making sure to communicate with Anastasia’s publicity team before calculating a means to shine things in a better light. Perhaps I’ll release to the journalists that Anastasia has a doppelgänger, I don’t know, I will have to get creative to hide Anna’s drunken antics.

I have seen the headlines and the papers, but that doesn’t define Anastasia. Anastasia is not what the media writes about her, Anastasia isn’t defined by what the people think or say.

“She’s grieving. She is the best one for the throne. You know this.”

“Do you think she can handle it?” Pippa questions.

“Do you think I can?” I scoff, exasperated that this responsibility is projected on me.

I can’t handle the throne. I wouldn’t even trust me to look after a puppy right now, mentally I cannot do this.

“I’m not sure, for some reason the King left you in charge. Either you continue as King or it gets handed to a distant relative. Not quite sure who that is right now, but that will not be a good idea. This is in your hands.” Pippa responds, once again making it known that the monarch and the people are currently resting in my hands.

“So, what? We tell the public there’s a plot twist and I’m king? The media will have a field day, we will be the laughing stock of all countries.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “Anastasia does the public events but you handle the monarch and the decisions. She’d be merely...” Pippa trails off, not wanting to finish her sentence.

“She’d be a puppet on strings, someone used for the limelight,” I mutter, not too pleased that Anastasia is being spoken about in this way, but I know Pippa doesn’t mean it in the way it sounds. “Pippa, my wife is upstairs, her world shattered over everything and you expect me to tell her that I have to stay as the King?”

“Harry, she doesn’t want to be Queen. She never has wanted this. She wants to abolish the monarchy, she isn’t fit to be Queen at the moment.”

“Neither do I. This is her fathers legacy, she needs to continue this. If I stay King she’ll want me to abolish the monarch. I can’t draw a line, she is my wife.”

“You’re not going to Abolish,” Pippa informs me, “When she is fit to rule, you can hand the crown over, until then, you need to keep it safe in your hands and run things. You’ll have the help of Anna’s mother and parliament.”

“Some of the men in parliament want my wife dead, I’m sure I’ll be next; I won’t be asking them for help,” I mutter, making it known I’m aware that some of the parliament officials are immoral and are on the Ace’s side.

“As King, you can handle that.”

“I can handle that as security, too,” I respond with a grin, “But you are going to handle the members of parliament,” I instruct firmly, “I am the Head of State and have legal powers, I want them out for the safety of Anastasia and the people. They’re corrupt. I do not work with corruption.”

Pippa shakes her head, “Harry, once elected, Members of Parliament cannot directly resign their seat. The only way that a seat can be vacated is through death, disqualification, dissolution, expulsion, or elevation to the Peerage.” Pippa informs me of what I already know, I am well aware of this due to the fact I have had the privilege to overhear conversations of the previous King. He wanted to kick certain members off from their position but he couldn’t, he was trying to find ways around the rules without changing too many.

“Well, if you can’t uncover a way to disqualify them and do what needs to be done, I will continue having them watched until I have a plan for how they’ll go missing. So, I suggest you handle this because I’ll make sure Anastasia isn’t touched and neither is her mother. This war against her family will end. Do we have an understanding, Pippa?” I’m firm with my words and what I’m alluding to.

I have reached my limits with the utter bullshit that has happened and continues to occur.

Pippa nods her head and grants me a small smile, “You’re already sounding like a King, ruthless and fierce.”

“I have to be, I want Anastasia safe. If we have an understanding, I’m going to get back to my job,” I gesture towards the monitors that I have been watching all morning.

“You do realise you’re working and just paying yourself now? You have to sign your paychecks now.”

“I uh—“ I begin, unsure of what to say, I haven’t quite thought about how I get paid now that I have moved to King. I’m not sure how the King even pays the employees. “I think it’s best the Queen handles the pay.”

“I will be in touch soon, will you be escorting me out?” Pippa asks and I shake my head.

“I cannot, Oliver will escort you out, he is at the door, I will let you out,” I inform her, walking towards the steel door and swiping my card through the system to open it, “Oliver,” I seize his attention and he walks closer to me, “Please escort the Prime Minister safely to the car in waiting, when you are done, you will be in the security chamber with me for more training, be quick,�� I command Oliver intently before descending back into the security room and closing the door, more than delighted to have a few more minutes to myself to recompose the thoughts that are racing through me.

Later That Night.

I unlock the door to Anastasia’s bedroom and I’m surprised when I observe her sitting up in the bed, her back against the headboard and her eyes glued to a book in her hands.

I close the door behind me and unobtrusively walk in, my hands working to taking off my watch and emptying my pockets. Anastasia doesn’t bother to give me the slightest recognition, her eyes staying adhered to her book.

If I had a knife, I could cut the tension in the room. Sadly, all I have are unspoken words that I don’t want to say out loud.

“Anna,” I promptly begin softly, my shoulders shrugging off my suit jacket, “I think we should talk.”

I glance at Anastasia and watch as her brows furrowed into a frown and her lips purse onto a fine line, but she doesn’t bother to look at me.

She’s blatantly ignoring me.

None of this is my fault, yet somehow I feel like I am to blame.

“Okay…” I trail off, unsure of how far I can push without her snapping on me, I don’t want an argument but the silence isn’t healthy. “I guess I’ll do the talking.” … “I’m not sure why you’re angry with me, but whatever the reason is, I do hope that when you’re ready, you’ll talk to me about it so that we can work through it together. I don’t want to force you to speak if you don’t want to, but it’s not healthy.”

“You want me to speak, your majesty? I’m sorry, I was waiting for my permission to speak.”

“What?” I question. I’m unsure whether she’s being serious or being a smartass.

It’s a fifty-fifty chance either way.

“What do you want me to say, Harry?”

“We can start with why you’re ignoring me.”

“Because my life is beginning to feel like The Life of Saint Barbara.” Anastasia gestures around the bedroom, finally throwing her book to the side.

I stare at Anna for a moment, unsure of what point she’s trying to make, better still, unsure of who the fuck Barbara is.

Anastasia rolls her eyes, “You have no clue, huh?”

I shake my head.

“Her father had a tower built for her so she couldn’t leave or find a man, and was forced to stay in it until she found Christianity and ended up beheaded because of her faith.”

“Oh,” I sigh, “So you feel like you’re Repunzel locked in a tower?” I try not to chuckle, this analogy is far fetched.

Anastasia shrugs her shoulders, “Sure, we can put it that way, too.”

I chuckle, unable to control my sense of humour. “Good thing you can’t let down your hair and allow men to come up here at your demand.”

“This isn’t funny, Harry. You locked me in here.”

I heavily sigh and hold back my remarks about how she’s being a little bit overly dramatic. “Anna, I didn’t lock you in here, the entire palace is on lockdown.”

“I’m not allowed to leave my fucking room.”

“Because you escaped through the tunnels.”

“I needed out, Harry. This is suffocating me, Dad is gone, Mum is trying to act as nothing happened, I’ve had to help pick out fucking flowers and funeral arrangements, I have my assistant handing me different announcements I have to address in public… Harry, they’re scripting everything and my every move, they handed me a speech I have to give the day of the funeral. And to top it off, you have the crown, you’re the King, I’m just here and I don’t want to be here.”

I stand in silence, taking in every word Anastasia says, unsure of how to approach things. I nod my head and lean against the dresser drawers, “I’m sorry. The only reason you can’t leave is because—“

“Is because I fucked up and went out, I know, I get it. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk, god forbid the future Queen ever acts out of character.”

“Darling,” I swiftly cut her off, “I’ll have security stand down, you won’t be watched as closely, the room will be monitored just for the safety in case someone enters the palace, there’s still a threat, but at any time you want privacy, they will be turned off at your request again. Don’t bottle all this in, talk to me, Anna.” I inform Anastasia of what I’ll make sure happens when it comes to security. The measures were never meant to make her feel like a prisoner in her own home, they were to genuinely keep her safe, but I understand it’s suffocating her and it isn’t fair.

Anastasia shouldn’t have to pay the price and be a prisoner because of the corrupt people out there. Anna didn’t ask for any of this. I run my hands over the dresser and frown for a moment, noticing it is cleared off of the items it held yesterday morning.

My eyes flick to the tea cart that usually has coffee and tea and right beside the cart there’s usually a silver plate with a glass, frozen cubes and a bottle of alcohol.

“Where’s the tea and the alcohol?”

“They were taken just in case I use them to escape. Apparently, I’m not allowed to have alcohol in the room. The lady’s maids took everything.”

I raise a brow and take my phone out of my pants pocket, my fingers swift to unlock my phone but I look towards Anna, “How do I signal for your lady’s maid at this hour?” I question, unsure of how to contact them without physically walking to find one.

Anastasia points to the button on the wall by her bed and I frown for a moment, “I thought that was just for emergencies?” I question.

“No, it calls for the staff, the red one is for emergencies.”

“I know what the red one is,” I respond, “Please press the button for your staff to come up here,” I instruct before my eyes settle back to my phone and I begin to text Matthew. I can only assume he has heard part of the conversation on the outside of the door, but just in case, I think he needs to know the security measures will be toned down in regards to her room.

Anastasia presses the button and stares quietly at me, “I spoke to Pippa.”

“I know,” Anastasia nods, “She told me what would be happening, you don’t need to explain.”

“I’m not listening to what they want, what do you want? Do you want the crown?”

“No, I can’t handle it, Harry. Pippa is right… but there is something I do want.”

“What’s that?” I ask, slipping off my shoes before sitting on the edge of the bed to face her.

“I’m tired of this tiny room, I’d like to move to one of the apartments.”

I nod my head in agreement, “If that is what you wish.”

“It is, and I want a television in our apartment.”

“I’ll make sure to put a TV in the apartment, but can we politely ask that the creepy portraits of monarchs are not in our apartment? They creep me out.”

Anastasia cracks and smile and for the first time, she giggles, “You’re the king, it’s your world, I’m just in it.”

“No, baby, it’s your world and I’m just in it. Speaking of housing… I was thinking we could talk about buying our own place together when things settle down so that we have a place that’s not apart of the royal family?” I offer, somewhat walking on eggshells. I’m not sure how Anastasia will react to the idea of buying a house or any sort of property away from the family.

She already has access to many homes but I’ve been made aware that they don’t feel like home. I want her to have a place that she can go to and feel secure without having royal protocol measures all around her, or a place that’s private and not constantly surrounded by people like the palaces are.

“I’m not sure how I’d afford it… I haven’t worked out my finances and how this all works.”

“Don’t worry about the finances.”

“Are you some rich multimillionaire I don’t know about?” Anastasia chuckles, “Have you been the one stealing the jewels?” Anastasia jokes and I playfully roll me eyes.

“You caught me,” I smile, “But no, I just work my ass off and make the right investments. Keep a lookout for places for sale you’d be interested in.”

“But… if you’re paying, it’ll be yours… can we wait until I can contribute, please?”

I nod my head, “Yes, but just to let you know, since we are married, what’s mine is yours, if I buy a house in cash tomorrow, it’s ours, not just mine. I’m not the kind of prick to dominantly buy something to hold it over your head later in an argument,” I inform her, assuming she has some sort of fear that in years to come, I’ll express the fact she didn’t pay for the home and that it’s mine, not hers. I’ve seen it happen in many marriages and relationships, I refuse to be like that. I’m genuine.

Before Anastasia can say anything, there are two knocks at the door before a lady-in-waiting is opening the door with a small smile, “Your majesty,” she places her hands in front of her, waiting for instructions.

“Hello,” Anna greets, “He called you, not me.” Anastasia gestures towards me.

“I was wondering if you could bring back the tea and whiskey that used to sit in the room and the other items that seem to have gone missing, please,” I smile towards the lady.

“Sir, I’m not allowed to serve alcohol to the Princess.”

“Oh, it isn’t for her,” I begin, “It’s for me, I’ve had a very long day and I need a stiff drink before I head into the tunnels to my room.”

“I’ll bring it up, just a moment,” the lady immediately nods, leaving the room promptly, “We need to tell the staff, I’m tired of making up stories.”

“My mother and her team will decide that, they’re scripting everything so I assume they’ll script when the staff are told…. Are you uhhh… are you working the funeral or?”

“I’ll be wherever you need me to be. Do you want me as your husband or bodyguard? It's your decision.”

Anastasia shrugs her shoulders and looks down, “I don’t know, I don’t know if we’re allowed in the public yet as a couple or if we have to keep it a secret still…. But … will you be near me if you have to be the bodyguard?”

I nod my head, “I’ll be right beside you or behind you, depends what Matthew sets up.”

“Everything’s going to be okay, right?”

Anastasia glances towards me for comfort, comfort that I can’t guarantee but I nod my head and crawl closer to her, wasting no time with opening my arm and letting her curl up into me, “Anna… everything might not be perfect, shit might happen, we might argue here and there, your mother might end up going nuts and smashing all the vases in the palace, I don’t know, but I do know that no matter what happens, I’ll be right here. I’m going to be here to hold you, wipe away tears, to laugh and cry with you. Everything will be okay, it might not be today, next week or next year, but it will be okay. We will be okay. You will be okay. I promise I’ll always be right here,” I kiss the top of her head, doing my best to assure her that no matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere.

Life is hard as it is, but it’s even harder when you're a royal with uncertainty and a life that isn’t technically normal. Contrary to popular belief, her life isn’t as easy as the fairy tails make it out or how the media portrays her life.

“I love you, Harry.”

“I love you, Anna. But I need you to promise me something,” I gently clasp her hand with mine, bringing it to my lips and caressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand. Anastasia hums, awaiting my request, “No more shutting me out, talk things out with me. If you want to have a drink, have a drink but do it safely, if you want to go out, talk to me, we can make it happen. No need to sneak around and put yourself in danger.”

I want her to understand that no matter what, I’m always here. I may be an asshole at times and I may act like too much of a bodyguard but I don’t want her to feel as though she has to sneak around me. This world she lives in is hard enough without me making it any harder for her.

“You’re talking to me like a kid.”

“That is not my intention,” I sigh, “I just want you to be safe and I want you to talk to me and not shut down.” … “I’m here for you, no matter what. If I could take your pain and make it mine, I would. If I could change what has happened, I would, but I can’t. All I can do is make sure you understand that I’m here for you, I thought we had an unspoken language where you knew this but the events of the other night proved me wrong.”

“I know. I know you’re here for me, it’s hard sometimes. I’m suffocated by this life and I didn’t know how to say it.” Anastasia responds, “Get out of bed before the lady-in-waiting sees as she brings your alcohol,” Anna instructs, nudging me out of bed.

I get off the bed and position myself towards her dresser where I was standing when the lady-in-waiting last saw me. Anastasia goes back to reading her book while I stand and ponder over the woman I’m in love with. Such a beautiful soul who deserves the world sits in front of me completely broken. And the worst part about it is there’s nothing I can do to fix it. I can’t just glue her broken pieces back together and pretend all is okay, I can’t just hug her and hold her, no. This goes deeper than a simple hug and condolences.

I am scared that Anastasia is on a downhill spiral that I can’t control. She’s tough, but I think she has finally been broken.

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nothingeverlost · 4 years

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The Most Brilliant Idea, or how Sirius Black Accidentally became a Romance Novelist (HP, Wolfstar)

In which Sirius has a Brilliant Idea, Remus is gainfully employed, James is clueless and Lily is always right.

Unmitigated fluff with minor references to the first war, AU because James and Lily didn’t die.

It started with the classified, the first bit of proof that everything that happened was really Moony’s fault. There was always a classified ad in the kitchen, even when Moony was working, part of his optimistic opinion that any job could and would end. The classified ads were always marked in pen, and one could tell just how Remus thought his prospects fared based on how he’d marked a job. Some were viciously scratched out (potions expert and anything with ‘night shift’ in the description) some were circled multiple times (he usually came away dejected from those interviews, things he actually wanted but rarely got) some had question marks and some had a single bold circle. It was the single circle ones that were the best prospects.

On this particular Tuesday morning while Sirius drank his tea and dripped jelly on a story about Minister Fudge’s election, the only ad that was circled was one looking for a book editor. It was commission work, the sort of things Moony did from home sometimes. It suited him, both because he was such a stickler for commas and spelling and because the flexibility meant that moons didn’t present a problem. The only downside was that it was sporadic work, a book at a time, and didn’t bring in enough income to make Moony feel like he was Contributing to Household Things. Sirius always rolled his eyes. Moony was the most stubborn person he knew.

It was then that he had his Most Brilliant Idea. What Remus needed was a constant stream of editing. Someone who would keep him employed on a regular basis with things a lot more interesting than editing a technical manual on the care and keeping of flobberworms.

“Lily I need to borrow some books.” When someone had a Brilliant Idea they had to start right away, so his first action was to floo to the Potter home. He was distracted for half an hour by Harry who insisted on a hippogriff ride and a sword fight, and he wouldn’t be a proper godfather if he said no to either, but after that it was strictly business.

“The only books we have here that you don’t have are meant for a three year old. You and Remus had quite the library between you,” Lily replied after telling both him and Harry they could only have two biscuits. Sirius took a third, but split it in half so it didn’t count. After all, two and a half was practically the same as two.

“Not true. Moony and I don’t have any of those girly books,” he said with his half a biscuit in his mouth.

“You want to borrow my romance novels?” Lily asked, puzzled. “I don’t know who you’re trying to date, Sirius Black, but romance novels aren’t actually meant to be used that way.”

“Like I need help,” Sirius said with an eye roll. Sure, it had been a while since he dated but that was totally his choice. He had a lot on his plate right now with a godson that needed his attention and Moony needing looking after and his three days a week working for Quality Quidditch Supplies. “They’re for Moony.”

“Somehow I doubt he knows that.” Lily rolled her eyes right back at him. “Take as many as you like, and don’t worry about when you get them back. It’s not like I have much time for reading when I have three boys to look after.”

“Something you want to tell me, Lils?” He looked at her stomach pointedly and wondered if they were really ready for another Prongslet.

“Yeah. You and James are more work than Harry and he has the excuse of being three.” But she gave him a bag for the books and sent him home with a plate of biscuits, warning him that she would tell Remus that she’d sent them so not to eat them all in one go. It was like she didn��t trust him or something.

Once he had the books stage one of The Plan could begin. He’d read a few of the romance novels when he was bored and they seemed like the easiest book to write. Certainly they weren’t anything Moony read so he could borrow a bit from others and no one important would be any the wiser. Over the next few days he spent most of the time Moony wasn’t around reading, stashing the books in the closet so they wouldn’t be seen in case Remus came in his room for late night chats or early morning bed sharing. It was a habit that they’d never quite left behind in school, especially when either of them had a nightmare. With the war almost two years gone the nightmares weren’t as frequent but they were always a good excuse if he needed company.

Stage Two of The Plan had a few false starts, as writing a book proved to be a little trickier than he figured, considering how many books he’d read. Finally though after twenty-six days he had a story written. The pining of Sigmund G Toadsnatch for Anastasia Flower ended in a passionate snog and a happily ever after. It was time for Stage Three.

“I need your help.” The moment Moony was gone for the day he popped around to the Potter home again, this time with manuscript in hand.

“Harry managed to get jam in his hair at breakfast and I have to give him a bath. Can it wait?” Her arms were full of a squirming toddler, anxious to greet his ‘Padfoo.’

“I’ll give him a bath,” he offered.

“The last time that happened you flooded the bathroom and transfigured the soap into a boat.” She carried Harry up the stairs. Sirius followed.

“He came out clean, though. Mostly.” He might have missed a few spots, but no one was perfect and there had been an important battle with a giant squid that looked a lot like Harry’s toes to wage. “I need to know if you have any friends that have girly writing and want to earn a few quid.” He plopped himself on the edge of the tub after stowing his manuscript on higher ground.

“You need what?” it was really quite impressive how she managed to run the bath, undress Harry, and listen to him.

“Alright, so this is the part where I have to swear you to absolute secrecy. Unbreakable vow kind of stuff. You can’t tell anyone what I am about to tell you, not even James.”

“You know James and I don’t keep secrets.”

“It’s not a big secret, just a little baby one. The more people who know the more likely it is that Remus will know that people are keeping something from him and then the whole thing will be ruined.” Besides Prongs would never let him hear the end of it if he knew what Sirius was doing.

“I will consider not telling him, once I know. That’s the best I can promise.”

“I guess that will have to do.” He was certain she’d see reason, or more importantly his side of things. “Now about your friends.”

“Do I even want to know what girly writing means?”

“You know what I mean. When you pick up something and you know a girl wrote it because there’s little hearts above the I’s and the ink changes color.” Not that Lily had ever done things like that. Her writing was perfectly sensible, not that it mattered. Moony would recognize her handwriting.

“Your handwriting is pretty fancy, with all those loops and the illustrations in the margins.” Lily made a few loops of her own, sending bubbled cascading into the tub to entertain Harry.

“One of the many skills a pureblood snob is required to learn, according to my dear old mum. Trust me I’ve tried mimicking James but it’s useless.” James wrote in a barely legible scrawl that only those with practice could read. Sirius envied him, though it had led to an accident or two over the years especially in potions and what time they were supposed to meet. “But it doesn’t matter, Moony knows my handwriting and that’s the whole point. I need someone to copy over my writing so he doesn’t know it’s me.”

“I think I need more focus and perhaps something to drink. Hold on a minute, will you?” Lily finished up Harry’s bath, keeping him long enough to dry his hair but giving up when he decided to squirm out of her hold and run away without his togs on. She shrugged. “Won’t hurt him to air dry.”

“James said the same thing once. It works better in a warm house and when you’re three, rather than when you’re thirteen and it’s snowing out.” He’d won the dare, though, and claimed it was worth it.

“Yeah, I remember that. Thought he was mental then. Now I know he is.” Lily headed for the kitchen and started a pot of tea brewing. “Now please tell me you’re not trying to get me to help you prank Remus. You know my rules.”

“It’s not a prank. It’s a Brilliant Idea to help Moony. You’re going to love it.” He couldn't hold it in anymore. “I’vewrittenabook.”

“Excuse me?”

“A book. I’ve written one and I’m going to send it to Moony to edit it, and then I’m going to pay him. But he’s not going to know it’s me so he’s going to accept the money without being his stubborn prideful self. When he’s done I’ll have another story ready and then he’ll be gainfully employed and happy and he won’t have to worry about what happens to his job when there’s a moon. Brilliant, right?”

“I’m still on the bit where you wrote a book.” Lily poured the tea and set a slice of quiche on a plate for Sirius. The spinach was in small enough bits that it didn’t actually look like a vegetable and he might not notice that under all the cheese he’d actually eaten something green.

“It’s not hard. I read the books you had and I wrote something like it. Boy meets girl. One of them annoys the other. There’s secret longing and someone trying to keep them apart and then they snog and everyone’s happy except the evil bloke who ends up in a cellar or something.” He shrugged and ate the food Lily had given him without much thought. He’d been so excited about the next stage that he hadn’t bothered with breakfast. “The book’s not really the important part, though, and there have to be bits to fix or else Moony won’t have anything to do. What’s important is that Moony doesn’t know it’s me. I have to rent an owl once it’s ready and send him a letter about a job. I have a name picked out already. Marmaduke Gaylord from Gaylord’s Romantic Press.”

“I don’t know why anything you come up with should surprise me anymore, Sirius Black. It’s completely bonkers and there’s probably fifteen different ways it could go wrong.” Lily reached across the table and covered one of his hands with her own. “It’s also unfailingly kind and possibly crazy enough to work.”

“Of course it will work.” Any doubts he’d had he’d buried down deep enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about them for a while at least. Probably not until the whole thing exploded in a very Sirius-like fashion.

As it turned out Lily did have a friend that could use a little spending money and had hand writing that, while not containing any hearts, was feminine enough to satisfy Sirius and more importantly wouldn’t be recognized by Remus. She rewrote the manuscript in her own handwriting. Sirius borrowed a typewriter from Arthur Weasley to make an official looking offer from the Gaylord Romance Publishers.

Stage Four was well timed, as Moony’s job in a muggle bookstore ended that week after the third time he’d had to miss work the morning after a full moon with no explanation. Sirius had made sure he was tucked into bed with a water bottle and a cup of tea with a warming charm that would last at least an hour, then nipped over to Diagon Alley to rent an owl for a single trip. The offer letter and manuscript were bound together. For an added bit of cleverness he’d asked the clerk to delay the delivery until afternoon so that Sirius could be home when the owl arrived.

“What could be so important about a romance novel that they’d be willing to pay this much?” By afternoon Moony was feeling well enough to be on the sofa instead of in bed. Sirius glanced at the letter Remus handed him and shrugged.

“Dunno, mate. Guess there’s enough people reading them to make it worth their while. The girls at school all read them. Tripped over them all the time in the common room.”

“They’d be better off reading Austen,” Remus groused but he was also quick enough to send off an acceptance letter with the owl. Sirius had a plan for that as well, and a newly rented owl post box.

“I’ll give you some quiet to work.” Sirius locked himself in his room, using the time to start his second novel, the story of five sisters all sorted into the same house and the rich pureblood transfer student who seemed rude but was secretly shy. The prat’s best friend was cheerful and had a crush on the main character’s sister.

“Comma,” was the comment he heard the most from the other room. ‘Why’ and ‘bloody hell’ and ‘you can’t do that to the English language’ were also common exclamations.

“Sounds like it’s going well,” Sirius said when his stomach was too loud to ignore.

“It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever read and the romance is dreadful but there are some bits that are hilarious, actually. Don’t know their goal but as a satire it’s not bad.” The stack of papers in front of him was all marked up in red ink worse than the first essay he’d ever written for McGonagall.

“I thought romances were supposed to be all sappy.” His main character had declared his love seventeen times. That was what girls wanted, wasn’t it?

“Fortunately I’m only supposed to edit the grammar and not the sap. I’m over my head on that sort of thing. Imelda Carson seventh year said I was the most unromantic boy she’d even snogged.”

“Imelda Carson is an idiot who is now breeding pink pygmy puffs and is completely single because no bloke was romantic enough for her. Besides you don’t like girls, remember?”

“I like girls just fine. I just don’t want to snog any of them or…”

“Smash your bits together?” Sirius offered.

“Yeah, exactly what I was going to say,” Remus said dryly. “I’m starved and close to going cross eyed from this editing. Whose turn for dinner?”

“I’ll start some steaks.” Sirius danced towards the kitchen. The Plan was going perfectly.

It seemed silly, really, to have a wonderfully written and perfectly edited novel and not do anything with it. The original plan didn’t take into account anything outside of making sure that Remus was employed, but when Sirius collected the edited manuscript from the owl post it seemed a waste to just throw it away or lock it up somewhere.

“I need a name.” It was just before lunch when he flooed to Godric Hollow, finding Harry just up from his nap and more than excited to use uncle Padfoot as a climbing toy.

“You know some people do give a little notice instead of barging in all the time. There’s a lovely front door on this house I don’t think you’ve seen in two years.” Lily winced when Harry’s foot found a foothold on Sirius’s crotch, but really the man deserved it.

“Other people aren’t nearly as entertaining as me.” Sirius winced as well and moved Harry’s foot a little higher, regretting it when the lad’s next handhold was his ear. “Now about that nom de plume.”

“I thought you were only writing so Remus could have an editing job?”

“Yes, but that’s no reason not to share my genius with the world.” He waved his manuscript over his head.

“How many times did Remus threaten to throw up while reading this drivel?”

“Only once but he edited that bit out. Not even I can be perfect my first time out.” Lily, of course, rolled her eyes for approximately the 42,596th time since she’d first met Sirius.

“If you’re serious about this we should do it properly. No more ridiculous names.”

“I’m always Sirius.” He couldn’t resist. After all the joke never got old, no matter how many times Lily groaned. “Too bad I can’t use my name. Imagine how dear old mum would roll over in her grave if she knew the sacred Black name was attached to a romance novel.”

“Sirius.”

“You’re right, Lils. If she got too excited she might reanimate and the world is not ready for zombie Walburga.” He shuddered dramatically at the thought, making Harry, now perched on his shoulders, laugh and say ‘again.’ Of course he obliged.

“Leave it with me and I’ll sort it out. I’ll have Molly redo a clean copy and send it off to Mary who’s a junior editor and a publisher. We’ll see what happens, alright?”

“This is why I love you, Red.” Sirius gave her a kiss on the cheek and handed her the manuscript so he could get down to what was really important; teaching his godson how to make bubbles in his milk.

Three months later Phaedra White was a published author. Sure, there wasn’t an enormous amount of money in a single book, but it was more than what he’d spent to pay Molly and Remus so it seemed profitable enough, and he was more excited than he’d expected to see it on the shelves of the bookstore..

In the next year ‘Phaedra’ wrote nine more books. More importantly with actual connections in the publishing world he was able to recommend Moony’s services to other authors, to the point that he began to worry that if Remus had too much work he might turn down the requests from Marmaduke Gaylord to edit Phaedra’s books.

“Get the bucket, Pads, I’m going to be ill. This is the worst thing I've ever read. Not only do I want to vomit but I think my eyes are bleeding.”

“It can’t be that bad.” His own book had arrived that morning but Sirius hadn’t known that Remus had started on it already.

“I don’t know how Gilderoy Lockheart got my name but I’m never editing a book for him again. Not only is it nonsense that clearly didn’t actually happen, but it’s badly written as well.” It was hard to tell from Moony’s tone what offended him more, but it was probably the bad writing.

“Wasn’t there a Lockheart a few years behind us in school? A gormless little thing that spent more time on his hair than anything else?” They didn’t usually pay much attention to Ravenclaws, but if he remembered correctly the boy had annoyed them enough that they’d pranked his hair blue once.

“That’s the one. What he knows about defense against the Dark Arts would fit in my little finger.” Remus pushed the manuscript away. “I can’t even look at this again until I have some chocolate.”

“I picked up a new stock from Honeydukes when I was at Diagon.” Rule number one for the care and keeping of your Moony was to always have a supply of chocolate on hand. “Why don’t you grab a bar and we’ll go out for a walk. It’s beautiful outside.”

“What would I do without you, Pads? Why don’t we pick up some curry while we’re out, my treat?” It was a plan, and they left the house shoulder to shoulder. Later that evening after he’d eaten Remus returned to his work. Sirius found him laughing, his shoulders relaxed, and not a single bucket around.

“Back at the Lockheart?” he asked.

“No, I’ve given myself a respite and picked up the latest White novel. You know this bloke is improving. It’s really kind of nice to see the balance of romance and friendship in here. Less sap and more affectionate teasing.”

“I thought that romance writer you edit for was a woman?” Sirius held his breath for a moment. Did Moony Know? He couldn’t possibly.

“I’m sure that’s what they want people to think, probably because most romance novels are written by women and I’d imagine they sell better. But I’m practically certain this is a bloke writing this. If the book centered around a flying motorcycle didn’t tip me off, the fact that the details about female anatomy are more vague than the male anatomy seems quite a clue.” Remus shrugged. “I don’t suppose it really matters, though.”

“No, I don’t suppose it does,” Sirius agreed.

“I need help.” The next morning Sirius showed up at the Potter house in the middle of breakfast, not knowing what time it was. James was still home, which was not the most favorable thing that could have happened.

“Help with what?” Prongs asked as he broke a banana into pieces for Harry.

“Nothing at all,” Sirius lied. “Just a question for Lils about a girl thing.”

“Dating someone you haven’t mentioned to us yet?” James cocked his head to the side. “It’s been a while since you’ve mentioned anyone.”

“Yeah, well it gets to be all the same after a while, doesn’t it?” Truth was he hadn’t had a date in ages. His free time was taken up with writing, and the rest of the time he was with Remus, or Prongs and his family or both. Lily had them over to dinner once a week at least, somehow thinking they couldn't take care of themselves properly. His social life worked out pretty well, except for the lack of shagging. He did miss that sometimes, but not enough to bother with finding a date.

“Not when you marry the love of your life and the most perfect person in the world.” James, of course, couldn’t help looking at his wife. Sirius was torn between wanting to gag and feeling a tight ball in the pit of his stomach that he’d never felt before.

“It’s been six years since you married her, Prongs. You are going to be a little less sappy at some point, aren’t you?” Of course considering how close they’d come to losing each other it was understandable. And Sirius was happy for them, but as a sibling it was his job to raz James as much as possible.

“If you don’t like it you do know where the fireplace is, Sirius.” Lily was careful when she stood up, her belly now heavily swollen. Potter number four was due in less than a month. “Come on, you can wash up dishes for me while you tell me what you need.”

Dutifully he followed her, ignoring Prongs’ questioning look. When the water was running he looked around to make sure they weren’t followed. “I need to know more about girls.”

“Excuse me?”

“Moony’s figured out that Phaedra White is a bloke. Says there’s not much detail about women’s bits and things in there and that it sounds more like a bloke or something. I don’t know. My first thought was that I could use some polyjuice and spend an hour as a woman but that’s a month of work just to make the potion plus it tastes disgusting.”

“I’m not going to ask why you know what polyjuice tastes like. I don’t want to know who you were or when or if my husband was involved.” Lily rubbed her stomach absently. “Your books are selling surprisingly well, I wouldn’t change things now. Besides you should know at least the basics about women.”

“I know that their breasts are nice and soft, most of them like to snog, and redheads have very good aim.” Or maybe it was just one specific redhead, who proved his point by throwing a spoon at the back of his head.

“Obviously rumors at school had to be taken with quite a few grains of salt and I know some girls exaggerated because it was good for their reputations for it to be known that they snogged the ‘great’ Sirius Black” Lily’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and she stuck out her tongue for good measure. “But you did date a fair bit, and I myself witnessed at least some snogging. Are you saying you never…”

“Did the no pants dance? Nah, girls are nice for kissing and easier for dating but for the whole naked tango I prefer a blokes ‘bits.’”

“Huh. I was dead certain about you and that Hufflepuff in sixth year.” Lily shook her head, bemused. It wasn’t like Sirius had ever hidden the fact that he liked boys as well as girls. “But if you’re here to ask me about my ‘bits’ that’s where I draw the line. We’re close, Sirius, but not that close.”

“You are the best sister a bloke could ever hope for, Lil my love, and as such that is a completely disgusting idea that I would never suggest. I was thinking you might have a friend.”

“I am not pimping out my friends to you, brother dear.”

“You try to set up Remus sometimes.” And somehow each time Remus came down sick and couldn’t come to dinner.

“I worry about Remus being alone. Do you know when he last went on a date?”

“Sometimes in the seventies, probably, and he’s not alone, he has me. What could be less lonely then having me as a roommate?” Other than a bit of time during the war he and Remus had lived together since leaving Hogwarts. It worked well for them both, and honestly the idea of Remus dating made his left shoulder blade go all tense. They took turns making dinner and washing up, cleaned the flat together on Mondays and read out bits of their books to each other as they shared a sofa in the evening. If Remus was spending his time with someone else there would be less of the enigmatic little half smile that made his day better. And at some point Moony would have to share his furry little secret and what if they took it badly and hurt him? Or worse, spread it about? Sirius would have to kill them and then he’d go to Azkaban and then Remus really would be alone. It would be a disaster.

“Sirius have you ever considered…” Lily stopped, wincing a little and struggling to pull herself up. “This little one has great aim and likes to kick mummy’s bladder. You’ll have to excuse us, Sirius. And find your own dates.”

He did find his own dates. Three of them, in the next month, and twice with the girl from the local coffee shop. And though the snogging was nice he just couldn’t get interested enough in taking it farther, not even in the name of research. Sighing he decided he was just going to have to keep doing what he was doing. Besides, having Moony suspect that a romance novelist was a man was a far sight from having him suspect that it was the man he lived with so he was still safe enough. After all who in their right mind would think that Sirius Black was writing romance novels?

When he got home from his last date he found a note stuck to his door in Moony’s careful hand. The word ‘St Mungo’s’ might have worried him if not for the ‘Baby Potter on the way’ underneath. He took a minute to change into something more comfortable, remembering that Harry had taken hours to arrive, and apparated to the maternity ward.

“You brought work with you?” Remus was already there, sitting in the waiting room with a quill in one hand and a stack of pages on his lap.

“You know how long Harry took to make an appearance. Might as well pass the time in a useful manner.” Remus looked up at him, head cocked to the side. “How was the date?”

“Bit boring, to be honest. I think I’m out of practice.” Dating used to be more interesting, but halfway through he’d found himself wishing that he was on the sofa throwing popcorn at Remus and asking about his latest book. The editing of the Lockhart book and its ridiculous lies was keeping him well entertained. “Speaking of the sprog, where is my favorite godson?”

“Lily’s friend Molly has him. The one will all the redhead kids, you remember?”

“Yeah.” Molly happened to be the friend that rewrote everything he wrote. No reason for that to make him nervous, though. “She was Gid and Fab’s big sister.”

“Yeah, she was.” It was never easy to think of the casualties of the war so Sirius tried not to think of them, not even the ones with hair and hearts like fire who he’d shagged once. Gideon had been one of his first crushes in school, and a compatriot in war.

“What are we working on tonight?” Sirius tried to take a look at his papers. “Anything good?”

“Something very frustrating, at the moment. The latest Phaedra White.”

“I thought you said her books were getting better. Seemed to me you quite enjoyed the last one.” He took great pride in the fact that he’d made Moony laugh more than once, and that it came back with hardly any notes other than the usual missing commas and split infinitives. The ending, Moony had declared, was only as sappy as was necessary for that sort of story and not bad at all.

“It’s stupid. I’m just the editor, there’s no reason for the direction of the plot to bother me so much.” Sighing, Remus put the quill down.

“I’m sure the author is grateful for your notes. You said she’s listened to them before, hasn’t she?” Of course he knew the answer. He’d written three thank you notes for changes the Remus had suggested, and every time Remus had been right. Merlin’s pants, Phaedra White was actually making best seller lists and had been mentioned in Witches Weekly twice, and Sirius wasn’t too full of himself to know how big a part Moony played in that. His publisher was trying to make him do a book signing at Flourish and Blotts, and didn’t understand why he kept saying no to the publicity.

“This isn’t the same situation. It’s not a small change to a scene, it’s the whole romance that feels wrong.”

“You read me a bit the other night, between the bloke and his best mate that made you laugh.” He’d found the byplay between his main character and his friend to be the most fun part of the book to write.

“That’s the whole problem. Byron and George have this great relationship. The scene where George is trying to convince Byron to go on the date feels almost like…”

“Like what?” There were times that Sirius totally wished he could talk through scenes with Remus while he was writing. He’d had to bite his tongue more than once when he remembered that he hadn’t sent a story to Moony to edit yet.

“Like he was trying to cover his own feelings for his friend. The chemistry between the two blokes is more natural and interesting then the bits with Byron and Melody.” Remus picked up his quill again. “Now you see why I can’t write that suggestion. I’m not about to tell someone to trash half their story and turn it into a gay romance.”

“Moony, w-”

“She’s here.” The door to the waiting room crashed open and Prongs came running out, tripping over his feet in his hurry. “I’m a dad.”

“You’ve been a dad for almost five years, Prongs,” Sirius couldn’t help but tease him.

“But never to a girl.” It was funny how big Prongs’ eyes could get. “Merlin’s elbow, I have a daughter.”

“Most of the bits are the same, mate. You’ll be alright.” Remus shoved his papers and quill into a bag and took out a flask. “I think this calls for a drink. Not too much, or Lily will kill us all, but just to celebrate.”

“You think of everything, Moons.” Sirius shouldn’t have been surprised, it was very like Remus, but there was something about drinking out of the flask immediately after Moony’s lips had touched it that felt different.

“You’re brilliant, both of you. In a minute we can all go in and you can meet my daughter.”

“Poor Lils, she’s got three kids on her hands now.” Sirius pointed to the dopey looking expression on Prongs’ face.

“I think you mean four kid, Pads. After all she has to deal with you as well.”

“Her name is Olivia Marlene.” Lily had that exhausted but happy glow of a new mother when they were let in to see her. The baby she held looked pretty much the same as Harry the first time they’d seen him, the dark hair on the top of her head and the splotchy looking face.

“It’s a good name. Strong.” Moony nodded solemnly. “Marlene would have been proud.”

“Marlene would have rolled her eyes and called me daff,” Lily said with only a hint of moisture in her own eyes. “But if my daughter is half as fierce she’ll be able to do anything.”

“Moony, ready to say hello?” James took his daughter from Lily and held her close to his chest.

“Let Sirius go first, I’ll hold her in a minute.” Sirius had been the first five years ago, when Harry had been born.

“Sirius will have his turn but it should be her godfather first, Remus.” When Lily spoke Sirius had the good fortune to be looking at Remus. The look on his face and the way his knees buckled were priceless.

“Alright there mate?” Sirius caught him around the waist and helped him to stand up again. “Welcome to the club, by the way.”

“So will you, Moony?” James looked at him expectantly.

“I think you’re mental to ask me.” But Remus carefully took the baby and held her, touching her cheek with a single finger. Sirius felt for a moment like he’s turned into liquid marshmallow, watching the two of them.

“Welcome to the world, Olivia Potter,” Remus said softly.

It was in that moment that Sirius Black, author of almost seventeen romance novels, realized that he was in love with his best friend.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave the country.” Somehow Sirius made it through the next week. He wasn’t sure how but it seemed only fair to give Lily a bit of recovery time before bothering her. A week was as long as he could wait, though, and on the eighth day he flooed over.

“That’s a bit of a dramatic reaction to not being chosen as godfather for our Olivia.”

“What? No, of course you should have gone with Moony. Brilliant choice. Probably should have picked him for Harry, bit of an unfair advantage Olivia has.” Sirius flopped down on the armchair across from Lily. “Where are the sprogs, by the way?”

“Baby’s sleeping. Harry and James are at the park so Harry can run off some energy.”

“Prongs is probably the one that needs to run off the energy. He’s walking on clouds, that one. Reminds me of the week after you finally said yes to a date.” Sirius was pretty sure James hadn’t slept for two days straight. For a week he also hadn’t shut up, even when he did finally sleep. He’d been well stuck on Lily long before they’d dated. Sirius finally had an idea of what that was like.

“Probably. Now tell me what you’re running from.” Lily put on her best getting-ready-to-mock-you expression.

“Nothing really, only the most stupid thing I’ve probably ever done.”

“I’ve seen some of the stupidest things you’ve done, Sirius. Many of them. Unless you’re going to tell me you have to flee the country because aurors are after you I very much doubt it’s as bad as you think.”

“I’vefalleninlovewithMoony.”

“I’m going to need you to actually take a breath at some point, sweetie. You’re going to turn purple if you don’t and then I’m going to have to explain to James and Harry why you’ve passed out on the floor.” Lily patted the empty seat on the sofa next to her. “Now come over here, take a breath, and tell me again what you said.”

Sirius, erring on the side of caution, took three breaths, decided that wasn’t enough, and took three more. “I’ve fallen in love with Moony.”

“Now there, wasn’t that easier to say the second time?”

“You knew perfectly well what I said.” Sirius narrowed his eyes. “You tricked me.”

“Only for your own good.” She leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. “I know this bit is scary but you’re going to get through it and you’re going to do it without fleeing the country.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” Maybe having a baby did something odd to your ears.

“You’ve finally figured out that you’re in love with Remus.”

“Finally?” Sirius stared at her.

“Finally,” she confirmed. “Other than this month because of your crazy idea about your books, when was the last time you dated?”

“Dunno. That carpenter maybe?” Sirius had wanted to find out just what else he could do with his hands. The answer was quite a bit. Unfortunately not so much in the brain department and even less in the sense of humor department.

“That was three years ago. What is Remus’s favorite dinner?”

“Steak with mashed potatoes and lots of gravy, popovers, peas.” It was a meal he liked to make a day or two before a full moon when Moony was feeling a bit low.

“And for dessert?”

“Chocolate, of course. I found a chocolate fondant recipe the other day I thought I might try.” Moony was happy to have a chocolate bar but Sirius liked to find new desserts to try. Moony was always pleased when there was a new dessert.

“Who is the first person you see on Christmas morning and whose present do you spend the most time picking out?”

“Moony, of course. We live together.” Last year Moony had put a ridiculous ten galleon restriction on gifts, insisting he didn’t need anything extravagant. His silly Moony hadn’t thought to specify that it was only a single gift, though. Sirius had brought thirteen, but they were all under ten galleons each.

“And when you’ve had a really shitty day who is the first person you seek out?”

“Moony.”

“And when something wonderful happens who is the first person you want to tell?”

“Moony.”

“Are we seeing a pattern yet? And before you tell me it’s just being friends let me remind you that you have created a whole career for yourself solely because you wanted to make sure that Remus had work that he could take pride in. The entire existence of Phaedra White is basically one really long love letter, which is a bit over the top even for you.”

“I’ve been in love with Moony this whole time?” It didn’t feel wrong when he said it. Maybe later he’d be able to look back and figure out when exactly it all started, but for now it seemed to be enough that it was true. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were always going to figure it out in your own time. I couldn’t make you go any faster and risk it not happening at all.” Lily kissed his cheek. “If I’d said yes to James in third or fourth year maybe we would still be where we are. Or maybe I would have written him off as a ponce and I wouldn’t have him or my babies. Things happen when they’re right, and you can’t rush them. Or run away from them.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” Remus rarely dated and never said anything about marriage. “What if I ruin everything?”

“What if he does? I don’t have the answer. I think you have to trust Remus and yourself enough to give him a chance to hear how you feel.”

“And if I fuck it all up?”

“Your friendship has survived war and betrayals and pranks gone horribly wrong, as well as seven years of sharing a dorm and about as long sharing a flat. I don’t think it’s going to fall under the weight of loving him.”

“You better be right, Lily Potter. If you’re not I’m going to be crashing on this sofa after I flee the flat in embarrassment, and I shed.”

Talking to Moony, of course, was a far too direct and logical choice. It took an hour for Sirius to decide that no, that just wouldn’t do.

“You alright, Pads?” Remus asked when he spent the second hour after he returned home pacing.

“Just thinking about Christmas,” he answered distractedly.

“It’s May, I think you have some time before you need to worry.” Remus caught his hand as he walked past. “You look like you have one of your headaches. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll give you a massage? Or I could read something to you?”

“No books.” Books are what had gotten him into the whole mess in the first part. How could he tell Moony how he felt without also confessing the whole story of Phaedra White? Why had he never considered that at some point Moony would have to know about The Brilliant Idea? “I think I might just go to bed.”

“I’ll bring you some tea, it will help you sleep better.” True to his word Remus showed up ten minutes later with a cup of tea, cream in first and half a spoon of sugar, just the way he liked. He’d valiantly tried to fall asleep in those ten minutes, but had failed completely and sat up to accept the tea.

“Thank you.”

“You know you can tell me if something is bothering you, right?”

“There’s no one in the world I trust more than you,” Sirius said honestly. The tea was too hot still but he sipped it anyway, knowing he’d either burn the tip of his tongue or the roof of his mouth but not caring.

“It’s a bit odd, isn’t it, Prongs and Lily having two kids now? They’re well and truly settled, like proper adults. Might make someone think about it a bit, wonder if they’re wanting something different.” Remus settled on the edge of the bed, looking up at the ceiling as if he could see the stars overhead.

“Do you think about something different? Finding your someone and settling down with a couple of sprogs?”

“Merlin no. That sort of life’s never been for me, even if I could find someone who wasn’t put off by my special little problem. Besides I like things the way they are. You know how much I loved marking up papers with red ink in school and I get to add commas and edit dangling participles to my heart’s content now, with the added bonus of actually making a proper amount of money. And I couldn’t possibly ever be lonely or bored with you around. If I want to play with a kid I just have to pop over to see Prongs and Lily. Seems to me being a godfather is like the best bits of being a parent without all the rest.” Remus shrugged and looked sideways at Sirius. “I always figured you’d follow James’ example at some point.”

“I would have had to start developing a crush more than a decade ago, wouldn’t I, to really emulate Prongs?” It made him stop and wonder for a moment, tea slopping over his chin as he stopped halfway to his mouth. Just when had he started falling in love with Moony? Maybe he was more like Prongs then he thought, with less of the whinging. He couldn’t remember a time when making Moony smile hadn't been a priority, or when Moony touching him hadn’t been a comfort.

“Not like that, of course. I mean the whole home hearth and family sort of thing, and making me a godfather.”

“I like my family just the way it is.” It was a little too close to the truth, and Sirius faked a yawn. “Night Moony.”

“Night Padfoot. Sleep well.” Despite being the first to say goodnight, Sirius was a little dismayed that Moony actually left his room.

The next day Sirius stopped by to pick up his post, finding a rather sizable cheque, yet another request for a book signing, and the edited return of his most recent book. Remus must have mailed it when he’d been with Lily. Flipping through the pages he found the usual red marks adding commas and rearranging the occasional unclear sentence structure, but nothing about the plot of the novel. He hadn’t made any of the suggestions that he’d mentioned at the hospital.

Sirius took the book home and read through the story again. Remus was right. The supposed romance of the story felt flat and predictable when compared to the banter between the best friends, and George was clearly nurturing a crush on his friend. He only wanted Byron to be with Melody because he thought it was what his friend wanted. It was a mess. Sirius was a mess too, but at the moment it was a lot easier to fix things for Byron and George. All he had to do was cut half the book and rework the rest to make sure two best friends realized that they were actually in love.

When he was done he sent it off to Molly with a bonus payment and a warning that he might not be needing her help anymore. She sent it back three days later with a cheerful little note letting him know that her twins kept her quite busy and while it had been fun to read his stories first she was fine with the change in things. Also it was her favorite story yet.

“I need to borrow my godson.” The day after he sent the manuscript back to Remus for editing he left the house early in the morning. He couldn’t bear to be around when Moony saw it for the first time. Better to let him read it and get it all over and done with at once, no matter what way it came out.

“You’re not back on the fleeing the country plan, are you? Because you can’t take Harry to Spain.” Lily raised one eyebrow.

“Why would Sirius flee the country?” James held his daughter but stared at Sirius in confusion. “You didn’t actually break into your cousin’s vault at Gringotts, did you?”

“I decided anything Narcissa owned would probably have cooties. Not worth the risk.” Sirius shrugged. “I won’t even take him out of the county, Lils. I promise.”

“Pads? Lily?” James pushed, not having a clue what was happening but suspecting that his wife knew a fair bit more.

“Not now, Prongs. I’ll tell you tomorrow if the world doesn’t crash around my ears today.”

Lily, fortunately, said yes and Sirius was able to mostly distract himself with a trip to the zoo and far more ice cream than an almost five year old and a twenty-five year old should eat. He returned Harry in time for tea but warned Lily that he probably wasn’t very hungry.

“I’m proud of you,” Lily said before he left, kissing his cheek.

“I’d probably be proud of you too if I knew what the bloody hell was going on,” Prongs added, kissing his other cheek. Sirius said thank you to them both, decided against the floo, and apparated home. He sat on the front stoop for half an hour before daring to open the door. The flat was completely silent.

“Moony?” Maybe he wasn’t at home. Maybe he hadn’t gotten the package or had been too busy to read it today. Maybe he had read it and had run for the hills. Maybe he hated it and hated Sirius and was in his room packing for a trip to Zanzibar. For a minute he worried that Moony really was gone because the flat, even Moony’s room, were empty. The last place to check was what they grandly called the balcony, which was really just a fire escape with a upside down rusty cauldron as a seat and a single pot with a dittany plant they barely kept alive. Moony sat with his back to the wall, looking out at the view. They were lucky enough to be on the side of the building that looked out over a park rather than another building.

“Hey.” He settled on the sill of the open window, which was the only other place to sit but also meant that Remus couldn’t go anywhere without stepping over him, which could come in handy. “How was your day?”

“I read a book.” Moony didn’t look at him. Sirius couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all, other than that he looked like he should be smoking. They’d both given it up when Harry was born, though, and that went double now that Oliva had come along.

“Yeah?” He took a deep breath and waited.

“Yeah. I thought it was weird, at first. It’s the same Phaedra White book I just edited, and I thought it was a mistake until I got through the first couple of chapters and it’s been completely rewritten. I didn’t say anything about the story to anyone, other than you, but it was like they looked inside my head and saw how I wished the story had been written. George was so certain that Byron was going to propose to his girl but instead there’s this scene, this magical scene where Byron says that he couldn’t fall for Melody because he was already in love. That it had been George all along. Sometimes your best mate is also the love of your life.” Remus was still staring down at the park and Sirius wanted to shake him, or beg him to turn his head, or just kiss him and take his chances that Moony wouldn’t throw him over the side of the balcony.

“Do you think that’s true?” he asked. “Even when the best mate is a complete disaster who might be keeping a secret or two, but only because they want their best friend to be happy and not have to worry about anything?”

“Do I think that Byron and George are in love?” When he finally turned, Moony had a perfectly inscrutable expression on his face, the one he used in school that let him tell McGonagall that he didn’t know anything about a prank that had in fact been his brainchild. When he used it on anyone else it made Sirius smile. Facing it himself was agonizing.

“Do you believe that sometimes your best mate can also be the love of your life?” He’d channeled everything he felt and thought into Byron. Remus set a great store in books and the written word, and Sirius hoped that maybe works written in black and white would make his argument for him.

“I think the hardest thing to believe is that I could possibly be that extraordinarily lucky.” With the blink of his eye Sirius could see all the vulnerability Moony had been hiding. The hope and the fear, the trust and the love. The love he saw there knocked the breath out of him.

“Merlin, I think you just scared five years off my life, you were that hard to read.” He pulled himself through the window and squatted in front of Remus. “Do you really think you could love me?”

“You deserve to be scared, you bloody git. You had me secretly editing books you wrote and somehow you became an author for the lark of it.” Remus rubbed his forehead, like he did when something was puzzling him or the writing of something was particularly confusing. “I’ve been in love with you for ages, Pads, and I find there’s generally very little thinking involved. It’s a simple fact.”

“I don’t think there’s anything simple about it.” Sirius Black was the author of seventeen and a half books, and it seemed to him there was only one possible option for what came next. He kissed Moony, of course. Kissed him like Byron had kissed George, like Psych had once kissed Cupid and Darcy had kissed Elizabeth. The kiss had been brewing up inside him for some time and he did not stop until the air was gone from his lungs. And then he said the words that he planned on repeating every day for the rest of his life. “I love you Moony.”

“I love you too, Phaedra White.”

Sirius groaned, and laughed, and kissed his Moony all over again. It was Absolutely Brilliant.

#wolfstar #wolfstar fic #sirius black #sirius x lupin #remus x sirius #harry potter fic #my fic #remus lupin #lily potter #remus lupin x sirius black #maurader fic #everyone lives #or at least the important people

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palettepainter · 3 years

Note

I’ve got post vaccine (moderna gang) shivers so I need to express fluff headcanons to spread good vibes

When Ecto was planning to propose, he had to keep it so hush hush because Higari can easily find things out. He didn’t tell anyone but higaris mother and his own parents. He was very happy that Higari was actually surprised with the proposal. Higari wears the rings on a necklace- his quirk doesn’t exactly make wedding rings easy to find.

As much as Higari prefers being a support hero, search and rescue jobs that go smoothly it’s very rewarding. He often checks up on those he’s managed to rescue, keeps in touch with some too. There’s this lovely older woman who he rescued from a crumbling retirement home who sends him baked goods every holiday. He visits her every month for tea.

When Ecto is sick, Higari cares for him easily. Even when Ecto acts like he isn’t sick. He’ll make him soup, make sure he’s resting, cold compress on his forehead. As stubborn as he is, ecto appreciates it.

Higaris favorite memory with his dad is digging around in the yard with him. Since they had the same quirks, it worked out. He showed him how to carve tunnels without the ground crumbling, or just played around in the dirt. There’s a picture of Higari when he was three, covered in dirt with his head peaking out of a hole. His dad was grinning, sitting near by like he was cheering him on. Sometimes, especially on days where thinking about his dad is hard, he’ll tell Ecto stories.

As someone who also got shivers after getting a vaccine I know the feeling, how you’re doing well!

Ecto proposing, Yes! I love the idea of Ecto proposing to Higari, and his rugged flirting smirking self just crumbles in the face of Ecto holding a ring to him. Ecto’s eyes are so full of love and he has such a soft grin on his face that Higari can’t help but tearing up, he tries to think of something flirty to say back, but he just can’t. He’s overwhelmed - probably ended up tackling Ecto in a hug with a big kiss, which threw Ecto off guard, thinking at first maybe he’d overwhelmed Higari when he started crying.

Higari wearing is around his neck, also yes. Higari’s wedding ring is the only thing that he will spend careful hours cleaning and polishing at the end of each day to make sure it stays in good condition, wears is around UA proudly - though I imagine for interviews outside of UA or when he’s called out for hero work he leaves it at home in a special box on his dresser or safely tucks it away in a drawer in the design studio, as much as he loves wearing the rink around his neck he dreads the thought of loosing it in a rescue, or having some nosy reports pester him for answers if they catch sight of it.

With Higari’s gear I’m a firm believer he’d be a great rescue hero in say like natural disasters or if a building collapsed. With his giant robotic suit and his know how on construction he could easily map a safe route to evacuate citizens from an unstable building, or quickly find a way to clean up after a land slide. Need to move a giant tree? No problem he’ll move it no prob. Citizen can’t move because they’re leg hurts? He can carry em out to safety. Kids they rescued are bored while they’re waiting for parents to pick them up? Higari tolerates them clambering about on his hero suit like it’s a jungle gym

Anything with Higari caring for Ecto or vise versa is so wholesome! In my NGAU I imagine Higari prolly knows all the tricks to help when someone is sick, he grew up in a big house with tones of little siblings, as kids they got sick a lot with how often they played in the garden and mud, they’ve all got very strong immune systems so it’s rare Higari or his siblings get sick - but Higari still knows all the tricks to help nursing someone back to health. He remembers to give Ecto some medicine, make him some soup, hot water bottle if he’d cold, flannel if he’s too hot and plenty of liquids. A teenie tiny part of Ecto might even enjoy all the attention, appreciating Higari’s concern. Too bad Higari is too stubborn to actually treat himself when he’s sick, with how little he gets sick he doesn’t take it all that seriously - thankfully Ecto is a patient man with many clones, so is willing to drag Higari back to bed if needed XD

And the last one with his dad...

Anon: Are you trying to make me cry-

In my NGAU Powerloader’s dad was all over him, spoiled Higari so so much. Spent many lazy afternoons slacking off work when the missus wasn’t looking to play around with Higari (bragged for like a week straight that he got his quirk, proud dad moment). Higari’s mother came out into the garden to see how the boys where doing, she finds her husband and toddler son covered head to toe in dirt and mud. She gets angry at them, insisting the two need a bath if they want to have dinner. Toddler Higari hated baths from the day he was born apparently, and it’s only until dear old papa gives him a bath is he willing to get clean. His dad puts bubbles in Higari’s hair, and Higari splashes bubbles onto his dads beard, who then makes a silly face to make Higari laugh. Too bad only one hour after tea the two got dirty again-

The first time Higari used his quirk was when he was outside with his dad. His dad was working on fixing up the shed, Higari sitting in a small play pen outside with some toys while his dad stood close by, able to work while also keeping an eye on Higari. Higari, bored of playing with his building blocks, begins to drag his little hands at the ground, and before he knows it he’s tunneling his way to freedome beyond the bounds of his baby playpen. This kind of scneario probably ensued:

Kaigo (PL’s dad): Phew *picks up tool box and turns around* Alright sweetpea, time to go back insi- *freezes when he sees the playpen is empty, and no baby in sight* W-WHAT?! *drops tool box, and rapidly looks around* Uh- H-Higari?! Sweetpea?! Where’d you go?? Come to dad, this isn’t funny! *rushes around a bit*

Higari: *tunnles his way up to the surface in his mothers flowerbed, a small pile of dirt with a flower sticking out the top sitting on his head*

Kaigo: *searching in the bushes* H-Higari?! Higari! Where are you?! *mumbles* Shit I took my eyes off him for two minutes! Where the hell could he-

Higari: BAPA!

Kaigo: *jumps and whirls around*..*heaves and sigh and rushes over* Oh thank god! *scoops him into his arms for a hug* You stupid lil’ ankle biter! Don’t you ever do that again! *holds him out at arms length* How in the world did you even get out??

Higari: *sneezes from the dirt, making the flower fall off his head*

Kaigo:..Wait. Did..D-Did you, DIG your way out?!

Higari: *incoherent baby noises*

Kaigo;...Ooooh you are in SO much trouble young man, you know how many years off my life you just took? Huh?...*scowls as Higari giggles* Oh so you think this is FUNNY?-

Higari: *grabs his nose* BA!

Kaigo:............*sighs* You’re damn lucky you’re cute, you know that?...Uh, how about we DON’T tell your Ma about this, okay?

Ever since then his dad had to watch him like a hawk, one minute Higari was sitting playing with his toys, the next he was trying to dig his way to the other side of the world. When he was old enough his dad did give him some lessons in how to dig safely so the ground wouldn’t become unstable. I imagine Higari may have madea few tunnels as a kid that where too close to the surface, and his very unsuspecting mum and dad would just sink into the ground collapsing an old tunnel Higari made. And Higari having pictures?? YES. His mum probably has a whole stash of pictures of Higari as a baby playing outside with his dad and her. Including the embarrassing photos, the kind of photos Higari would never want Ecto to see, but his mum showed him anyway.

Now I wanna write angst with Powerloader and his dad aaaaa-

#Powerloader #Powerloader family #MHA #Headcannons #Higari

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lu-undy · 4 years

Text

Chapter 98 - SBT

Here it is!

"G'bye, Prof L!"

"Goodbye, and remember to revise these crucial points, oui? This is fundamental geometry."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Fine, enjoy your weekend." Lucien smiled at his pupils.

"See ya!"

The kids excitedly left the room and the professor turned to wipe his blackboard clean and wash it. He sighed and looked down at his own clothes, dusting the chalk off of his suit. Lucien made sure that the room was in order before sitting down at his desk and correcting the papers of the week. He knew Mundy would be at the workshop still working and going back home alone didn’t feel right. So Lucien readied his red pen and took the first paper of the pile at the corner of his desk.

He was used to this routine. It allowed his lover to finish his day of work as well as not burden himself with too much over the weekend.

After slashes of red, crossing mistakes, underlining approximations and appreciating his pupils’ work, the Frenchman needed a cigarette. He raised his head off of his papers and lit one up. His eyes swept across the room, the wooden desks, the back breaking chairs… He smiled. Teaching was something he never expected to like. And yet, making a positive difference on those children not only earned him his bread, but filled his soul.

Children have always been an unbreakable force of nature. But dear is the price to make them thrive. They are a boiling concentrate of energy, of potential, and of hope. Lucien remembered his younger days as a rookie spy. He saw barbarism, butchery of men beyond what should exist. He saw men die on battlefields and away from them. Sometimes he himself was the one responsible for their deaths. And yet, after the deed was done, he would walk out scott free and in the streets, children would continue to play, oblivious to the danger surrounding them.

But were they really oblivious? Non, they knew that war was raging, but even the massacre of their fathers, brothers and uncles didn’t break them. It made them, like Jérémy, kinder. Those children were growing and would no doubt refuse to subject their own children to the same amount of atrocities, to the same hard childhood. Theirs had been hard enough, too hard, unfairly so.

Maybe that was what Lucien’s mother meant when she called him her reason to live. After his father’s death was confirmed, her mourning had lasted forever, but she rarely showed it to young Lucien. She always smiled to him, and turned away to cry. She always showed him the best of her. That, to him, was a proof of courage and strength beyond what he had seen among war heroes. His mother would remain, to the end, his model for endurance.

“Grand Dieu, pourquoi je pense à ça…?”

[Good God, why am I thinking about this…?]

He went to the window and drew the curtains open.

“Oh…”

His daydreaming and reminiscing had put the sun below the horizon. The streets were dark and the few people still there were moving out of the city centre. Lucien turned to the clock on the wall, above the blackboard and his eyebrows jumped. It was proper late and Mundy hadn’t come back to him yet.

“Hm.”

Lucien collected the remaining papers and put them in his leather bag before exiting the classroom. He walked to the workshop and looked through the window. A light was still on on one of the desks and a hunched silhouette so familiar to Lucien was looking down at the desk.

“Yeah, Maurice, I’ll go…”

“It is not Maurice.”

“Oh…?”

Mundy turned on his stool and his eyebrows jumped when he saw Lucien.

“What are you doin’ here?”

“I could ask you the same.” Lucien came behind his lover’s back and laced his arms around his neck. He kissed his cheek from behind. “I was waiting for you but you never came.”

“What time is it..?” Mundy looked at his watch. “Oh, bugger, I’m sorry, I didn’t see the time fly…”

“I am not surprised about this as much as I am surprised that Maurice did not kick you out of here yet.”

“He tried, but I uh… I got carried away, sorry, luv'..." Mundy lowered his head and ruffled his hair before he rubbed his eyes.

Lucien scanned the workbench and saw the pile of broken toys and small electricals. A toaster, a radio, an alarm clock…

"You have had a productive day, hm?"

"Well…" Mundy sighed. "Nah, not really."

"What is the matter, mon amour?" Lucien hugged his lover from behind and stuck his cheek to the Aussie. Mundy leaned to him and closed his eyes.

"Still thinkin' about it all. Can't really take my mind off of things."

Lucien pulled a stool and sat down next to his lover. The workshop was silent apart from the buzzing of some heater. The only light was shed by the lamp on the workbench.

"Tell me." Lucien took Mundy's hands between his own.

"It's my dad… I don't wanna sound dramatic but…" Mundy raised his eyes to Lucien. "How can I be sure he… I mean… He likes me still. Maybe he's never really seen me as his son, I mean…"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk…" Lucien shook his head. "Your father is a lot of things, Mundy, one of them is your father. He does love you, he just doesn't know how to contain it or show it."

"But if he really loves me, wouldn't he be happy for me?"

Lucien sighed.

"One would expect so, oui. But again, remember that you being with a man is far outside what he imagined you were. Give him some time."

"If your son was with a bloke, would you yell at him like that?" Mundy asked with a serious tone of voice.

"Of course I would not, because I myself understand the attraction towards men." Lucien answered. "But your father doesn't. It was never in his mind, he never thought it could even exist. It is a lot to take in, give him the benefit of the doubt, and trust your mother."

"Mum?"

"She said she will talk to him. Women have a way with us that is beyond our reach…" Lucien smiled sweetly.

"No."

Lucien's eyebrows jumped.

"Pardon?" He asked in his mother tongue.

"Mum's never stood up to Dad, ever. She just said that to make me feel better."

"Mundy, a lot has happened for the past few months. I am sure your mother will talk to your father."

"Nah, you saw her. She didn't say much when we were there."

"Yet what she did say had an impact on your father."

"What?" Mundy raised a curious eyebrow.

"She reminded him that by faking my own death to protect you, I wasn't so different from him. In fact, I did exactly the same thing as he did. His eyebrows twitched and his breath cut for an instant. He certainly did not like the comparison but what could he argue? It was the plain truth." Lucien explained.

"Still. Not convinced Mum would change his mind."

"Stubborn as he is, she certainly will not. However," Lucien tilted his lover's chin up with a gentle index finger. "She will plant the seed of doubt."

Mundy looked away.

"Yeah, well… Can't help thinkin' that he doesn't really love me."

"Why?"

"If… If you got a son, and you got plans for him but he keeps on not goin' according to them, wouldn't you lose hope at some point and just say 'oh, right, fuck it…'?"

"Non. I did not conceive a human being, the most fragile of creatures, to not carry the responsibility of them all my life until I am six feet under ground." Lucien answered in one go.

"But he didn't!" Mundy raised his arms before they flopped to his thighs again. "He didn't conceive me! He found me and… and he took pity on me…" He admitted, muttering in his breath.

Lucien put his hands on Mundy's shoulders.

"He did take you in, didn't he?"

"Mh."

"Did he, yes or no?" Lucien repeated, staring at Mundy in the eye.

"Yeah…"

"Did he raise you?"

"Yeah…"

"Did he ask you to stop hunting because he was scared for you?"

Mundy raised his eyes to Lucien.

"Yeah, he did…"

"This is how you know he loves you. His anger, his frustration are also proof, albeit twisted, of him caring about you. If he didn't care, then he wouldn't become half as angry as he is, would he?"

"Yeah but… You keep on sayin' he wants me to get a sheila and stuff to be happy. So it'd make sense to think that what he wants at the end of the day is for me to be happy, right?"

"Oui."

"Then why the hell isn't he now?!" Mundy asked. "I'm happy, I've managed, I-I've done everythin' and he can't be happy!"

Lucien sighed and frowned.

"I do not know." The ex-spy admitted. "I just want you to keep some hopes up, Mundy. From what I saw of your father, he is a tough man, strict on his ideas and wouldn't change them for the world. But one cannot stop hoping."

"Think I just might. I'm tired of hoping. It's so bloody tirin'..." Mundy rubbed his face with his rough hands.

Lucien's eyebrows relaxed.

"Then, stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop hoping."

"But you just said that I should keep my hopes up?!"

"And you answered that you don't want to, so just stop."

Mundy stared in Lucien's eyes. It lasted a few seconds before he looked away and sighed.

"I can't."

"Then, keep some hopes up, but don't let it eat you on the inside. Give your mother some time to work her magic on him. Things are not what they were more than a decade ago. Your mother has lost you once. She knows what it feels to lose you and from how quickly she accepted us, she is ready to make a lot of sacrifices before she loses you again."

"Yeah but if she has to choose, she'll go with him." Mundy said. "And Dad would say that the choice is in my hands. Either stay with you and lose him, or the other way around…" Mundy put his hands on his face.

"I wouldn't be so sure." Lucien answered, kissing his head. "And if it ever boiled down to that, I will be where you want me to be."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mundy raised his head to his lover.

"That means that, as I said all that time ago, more than year ago now, making me happy is something that I cannot do. Making you happy however, is all I ever think about. And so, if you ever felt like you have to make a choice, whatever you choose, I will do what leads to your happiness."

"Lu'... Are you sayin' that you'd… You'd leave me?"

Their eyes met and hung there. Lucien took a deep breath and cupped Mundy's face in his hands. He leaned forward and they rested their foreheads against each other.

"I will do whatever to make you the happiest of men alive on this Earth, Mundy, do you hear me?" They closed their eyes and silent tears ran along their cheeks. "I know how tired you are to run after your father, after his blessing and I understand it… I… I understand it…" Lucien put a hand on his mouth, his fingers were shaking. "This is ridiculous… I am crying now… I apologise…"

"Lu'...?" Mundy pleaded with a broken voice. "Lu', no…"

"Non, Mundy… Your family is… It is very important to you and I understand that. You cannot replace your family." Lucien sniffled.

"Can't replace you either!" Mundy exclaimed. "I can't! Bloody can't!" He put his hands on Lucien's waist and stood up to pull him into an embrace. "I won't leave you, love, I won't…! You left me once and I couldn't live anymore, no, please…"

"Mundy, I just want you to know" Lucien's breath cut. He sniffled and went on, his eyes still closed. "I just want you to know that… Whatever you do, I will support you… It might be hard for the both of us, but I will… I will…"

"Shut up… Shut up, I love you…" Mundy pulled Lucien to him in one go and the pin in his hair sank, freeing his long locks of salt and pepper. Mundy slid his hand under Lucien's hair, behind his head and pulled him close. "No, I won't choose. I'm tired of feelin' like shit as if it's my fault. It's not my fault, it's no one's fault, there isn't any fault… I just love you…"

"I love you too." Lucien clung to his lover's chest, digging his fingers hard, as if Mundy was slipping away from him already. "I… I never thought I could love this way… Thank you…"

The Frenchman's tears wetted the Aussie's polo shirt but neither of them cared. Mundy was almost more saddened by Lucien's tears than by his own predicament. It was rare to see Lucien in tears, especially outside of the intimacy of the sheets. Mundy clung back to his lover, his silk hair and his thin waist.

"I hope Mum'll help, I really do…"

"Your mother is very close to you, in her heart." Lucien wiped his tears with a handkerchief and then raised it to Mundy's face to wipe him. "She will do any and everything she can to avoid the choice for you and for her. Moreover, she loves you with all that you bring with you." Lucien said and held Mundy's hand again. "The other day, she asked me to teach her how to cook a ratatouille the way that you like it." He smiled.

Mundy raised tired eyes to his lover, yet his lips pursed into a smile too.

"She loves you, Mundy. She took you in, not out of pity, but because in her heart, the moment she saw you, she knew." Lucien poked Mundy's chest.

"She knew what?"

Lucien raised his hand to Mundy cheek and gently stroked it with his thumb.

"That she was your mother."

-- Earlier, in the street --

"How long've you known?"

"Very long. Almost as early as it started."

"Pfff…"

"But believe me, they didn't fall in each other's arms at first sight, far from it."

"Mmh…"

The old man grumbled, a bit disgusted, and walked in circles in the dark room. His fists were clenched.

"Were you goin' to tell me?"

"No, why would I?" The king of the beggars asked. "It is none of my business, Mike." Maurice paused. "Neither is it yours, strictly speaking."

Mike froze and turned to the beggar in the long, ragged clothes.

"Course it is! It's my bloody son!"

"What do you want from me?" Maurice asked.

"Is it botherin' only just me?!"

"It depends. What does Caroline think?"

"She's fine with it! Goes to visit them, stays for dinner and all! Pfff…" Mike removed his hat and shook his head. "How could we go so wrong with that kid…?"

"Well, then, yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, it is bothering only you." Maurice answered.

"Maurice…!"

"Fine," The tall man stood up from his throne and faced Mike. "What is it? You are unhappy about their relationship."

"Yeah, that's puttin' it mildly!" He exclaimed, looking up at the taller man.

"And why is that? They are grown, reasonable men, and they both are doing it of their own accord. None is forcing the other."

"Maurice, it's blokes."

"Yes, exactly! They are grown and old enough to know what suits them best. It just so happens that it is each other!"

Mike sighed.

"He told me you know him for service, right?"

"Who?"

"That Lucien guy."

"Indeed, I do."

Mike walked to a chair and sat down, in front of the empty throne.

"Tell me about him. I wanna know what kind of a man he is."

"Ah." Maurice took a seat opposite the old man and cleared his throat. "I hope you don't have anything planned for the next hour or so."

"What?"

And Maurice recited Lucien's life as best as he knew it. Of course, the ex-spy had left areas of shadow and doubt in his official files, such that Maurice couldn't exactly say where he came from, or his family whereabouts. But the key message was there. Lucien was a selfless war hero who turned his back to the country that he helped to create, because that same country had attempted to backstab him, ironically enough.

"Yeah, well…" Mike tried to feel indifferent to it all. "Does Micky know all that?"

"He was there for his fake funeral." Maurice answered. "For which war veterans flew from across the world immediately, without receiving formal notice. All they heard was the whispers in the air flying from mouth to ear and spreading faster than light."

Mike frowned.

"Michael," Maurice started and Mike raised his eyes to him. "What is the problem?"

The old man put a hand on his tired head and shook it.

"I… I don't know anymore. Caroline tells me all these things about how happy Micky is, how much he smiles and laughs now, how… cute they are together."

"You don't see it yourself? You think she is lying?"

"No, I know she's not lying. I know she's tellin' me the truth, I saw it with my own eyes. Never saw Micky look at someone the way he looks at him."

"But…?" Maurice anticipated.

"It's wild. A man with another man? Pfff, I wouldn't care if it wasn't my own Micky."

"When Lucien died, Mundy broke as hard as he did when you supposedly died. I had to push him to work, because his mind was in shambles, I had to push him to continue living even."

"He wanted to…?" Mike asked, frightened of what that last sentence implied.

"I remember his words when Lucien's death was made official. 'It's happened twice, I don't want to live this shit life anymore.'.... God knows what he would have done if not for one reason."

"What was it?"

"Lucien had a cat, back then a kitten. He asked me to tell Mundy that he wanted no one else but him to take care of her."

"He… He stayed alive for a cat?"

"No, Michael." Maurice answered. "He stayed alive for Lucien's cat. And that has made all the difference."

Mike sighed and wiped his face as Maurice patted his shoulder.

-- Mundy and Lucien's house, a few days later --

Lucien looked at Mundy. They were both at the table, having lunch. The Aussie had had trouble sleeping ever since that night at his parents, waking up repeatedly through the night. Holding Lucien or being held by him wasn't enough to bring him comfort.

Lucien had woken up every time with his lover. He would hold his head against his own chest and kiss him back to sleep. Sometimes, he would get out of bed and go to the kitchen to prepare a tray with a glass of milk and biscuits or something to pass the time with Mundy before both decided to lie down and try to sleep again.

Each time they would get a visit from Caroline, Mundy's face would brighten a bit, every time they did something just for themselves too. But it was always only temporary. Mundy's mood would always gently slide down the dangerous slope that his darker thoughts paved.

It was high time that the Frenchman tried to take his lover's mind away from his problems, for one night at least.

"Will you go back working this afternoon?" He asked and Mundy nodded.

"Yeah. Gotta finish some stuff. You done with your classes?"

"Oui, I am."

The concerto of cutlery on plates filled the air.

"Mundy?"

"Mh?"

"When you come back home tonight, put on a suit."

The Aussie frowned.

"What? Why?"

"Put on a suit and wait for one of Maurice's boys. They will tell you where to go. You may take the motorcycle to go there."

Mundy raised his head from his plate.

"Where am I goin'? You won't come with me?"

"Non, I won't."

"Lu', what is it?" Mundy asked, genuinely at a loss as to what to expect.

The Frenchman smirked as he wiped the corners of his mouth elegantly with a napkin.

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you."

-- Later that day --

"What are you doing still here?" Maurice pushed the workshop's door and peeked his head in.

"Workin'."

The king of the beggars fully entered the room and went to put a hand on Mundy's shoulder.

"You should go, L is waiting."

"Waitin'? Oh, yeah, I forgot… I need to go back home and wear a suit, he said."

"Yes, and when you are all set, go to the Maravilloso."

"The Brazilian place?" Mundy's eyebrows jumped.

"Yes." Maurice answered.

"Right…" Mundy shifted away from his stool and Maurice tapped on his shoulder. "What?"

"Have fun."

"I'll try."

Mundy had gone back home and quickly took a shower.

"Meow? Meoow?"

"Yeah, babies. C'mere… I'll give you your food…" Mundy took the stairs down and went to the cats' bowls. "Hold on… You have food and water? Why're you following me everywhere like that?" He asked, adjusting the towel around his waist.

"Meow…!" Perle stood up on her back legs and Mundy knelt down.

"What is it? Oh…" Both cats were begging for pets, hugs and cuddles. The Aussie ended up sitting on the floor and taking care of them for a while. "Hey, babies… What's wrong with you?"

"Meow…" Perle gently headbutted Mundy's chest while Soot's ears flopped down.

"What is it? What's the problem, eh?"

"Meow." Soot answered and raised his paw to lay it flat on Mundy's chest. Perle copied him.

"Me? Somethin's wrong with me? What did I do?"

"Meow…" Both meowed long and sad.

"Yeah, I might've hugged you less over the past week or so, I'm sorry. C'mere both of ya…" He hugged them both, Perle in one arm and Soot in the other. He lowered his head and headbutted them softly while hearing them pur. "I'm so sorry, babies…"

He whispered his apologies in kisses, cuddles and scratches until Perle broke the embrace and trotted away.

"Meow?" Soot asked.

"Meow…" She swang her fluffy white tail and the male followed up the stairs.

"Right, now… Off to put on a suit." He climbed the stairs after the slithering black and white clouds and headed straight for his room. After opening the cupboard and looking around, he found that beige suit that Lucien had ordered and got delivered to him more than a year ago now. Mundy smiled in nostalgia and took it out of its hanger.

The Aussie started with the white shirt and beige trousers, as he remembered the last time he had worn that attire. It was to go and see Lulu, back when Lulu wasn't L yet. Ah, those days… Who would have thought that down a year from then, L and M would be together, inseparable and as close as they were in the alphabet…

Then came the bowtie and vest, before he threw the jacket on his shoulders.

"Meow!"

"What?" Mundy looked on his bed. Perle was sitting, observing him, while Soot was lying down.

"Meow."

"Love you too, baby, but Dad's gotta go. Papa'll be home hopefully, or somethin'... I don't really know what's happenin', Papa needs me to be somewhere."

When the words exited his mouth and he heard himself, Mundy froze.

I don't really know what's happenin', Papa needs me to be somewhere.

Now take that sentence, swap Papa for L and that was time travel, right there. That was exactly how their relationship had started, even if it was just professional. L was pulling the reins and sending the Aussie left and right where he needed him to be. And Mundy had always followed whatever Professor Ski told him to, blindly. He smiled out of nostalgia.

"Right, I'm all set. Babies, you behave and don't go to bed too late, yeah?"

"Meow!" Perle shouted.

"Oi! Why're you yellin'?"

"Meow…!" She stood on her back legs and planted her claws on his legs, to climb him.

"Claws, claws! Ouch! Let me come down to you…! There, what is it?"

Perle started to bathe Mundy's face.

"Yeah, I showered and shaved, no need to clean me more, baby… Oh?"

"Meow…" She was now doing his hair. Mlem, mlem, mlem…

"Want me to comb it better?"

"Meow." She said and sat down, backing off of Mundy's head.

"Alright, I'll go back to the bathroom, then…"

A minute later, Mundy came back to the front door and put his shoes on. He heard the trotting of soft paws on the floor.

"Better now?"

"Meow." Perle confirmed.

"Thanks, baby, c'mere." He cupped her head and kissed her brow. When he heard the sound of the kiss, the black cat slithered from the living room to his Dad.

"Meow?" He asked.

"Course you can get a kiss, c'mere." Mundy opened his hands and Soot came closer. He brushed himself on his master while Mundy kissed him. "There we are, now, can I go? Papa's waitin'."

"Meow." Both cats sat and looked up at their Dad who unlocked the door.

"You be good babies, yeah?"

"Meow." They both answered.

"Right, see ya later."

The Aussie shut the door and went to the motorcycle.

"Well, guess I'm off to the Brazilian steakhouse then…"

He put on his helmet and the engine purred.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

8 notes · View notes

fantastic-bby · 4 years

Text

Drawings

Pairing: (F)Reader x Youngjae

Word count: 6.8k

Genre: Romance, soulmate AU!, kinda fluffy, Non-Idol!Youngjae, Art Major!Reader

Summary: Youngjae has lived his whole life communication with his soulmate through writing on his own skin. His soulmate, on the other hand, enjoys leaving sketches or drawings on her own skin whenever she’s bored. It’s only when their both working adults that they realise how helpful her drawings were...

Soulmate series: Jaebeom - Strings || Mark - Inked || Jackson - Bubbles || Jinyoung - Masked || BamBam - Footprints || Yugyeom - Pieces

Masterlist

He looked at the drawing of the cat on his arm, a giggle leaving his lips when he saw the tail starting to form. Youngjae thought it would be nice if he drew something back to the mysterious artist behind the drawing and snuck into his mum’s room, quietly stealing a sharpie from her desk before scurrying out.

Youngjae sat himself at the coffee table and quickly drew a dog beside the cat with the word ‘friend?’ underneath it. He waited excitedly for a response and was ecstatic when he saw ‘friend!’ appear underneath the cat. He drew a shark above the dog, watching as the mysterious artist drew a dolphin beside his shark.

Youngjae spent the next hour or so drawing with his newfound friend, animals quickly covering his arm and hand. He bit his lip as he admired the drawings that covered his arm. ‘Your drawings are cute!’ He scribbled onto his wrist. ‘Thank you!’ The response appeared at the spot right below his compliment.

“Youngjae-ah, come help mummy with dinner.” His mum called as she walked into the living room, her eyes quickly widening when she saw the drawings that scattered his arm.

“Mummy! I have a new friend!” Youngjae excitedly held his arm up to show her the drawings. She stared at him with her mouth agape as she tried to process it before letting out a soft chuckle and disappeared into her bedroom.

“Youngjae-ah, why did you use a sharpie? It’ll be difficult to wash off.” She smiled as she returned with a washcloth in hand, crouching down to inspect his drawings. “Do you know their name?” She asked as she gingerly inspected all of the animals. Youngjae shook his head in response. “One day, you’ll find out their name, and you’ll be able to meet them.” She explained as she gently wiped his arm.

“I’ll be able to meet them?” Youngjae’s face lit up with excitement. His mum nodded,

“They’ll be the only person in the world who will make you feel certain things. You’ll love to be around them and they’ll make you laugh harder than you ever have before.” She hummed out as she watched the drawings starting to fade slightly. Key word: slightly. Due to the fact that Youngjae had used a sharpie, these drawings wouldn’t disappear as easily.

“Who are they?” He questioned as he watched her clean his arm as best as she could.

“Your soulmate.”

»»————-　　————-««

Youngjae woke up to the sound of his alarm blaring, his face immediately contorting in annoyance. He slapped his hand onto his alarm clock and turned his alarm off before groggily sitting up. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand as he looked around his dark room.

He forced himself out of bed and dragged himself into the bathroom to start getting ready for school. He stood in front of the mirror, his hair wet from his shower as he brushed his teeth. He felt a tickle on his arm and he looked down to see a message from his soulmate.

Are you up?

He felt his spirits immediately lift and he quickly rinsed his mouth, scrambling out of his room to find a washable marker.

Yeah, I am

He wrote the response underneath the message and smiled as he sat at the edge of his bed, not bothered by the fact that his hair was still wet, water sliding down his hair and dripping onto his bed. He was too focused on his conversation with his soulmate.

Have you showered?

Youngjae watched as the question formed on his skin, the smile never leaving his face.

Just got out. I have to get dressed for school :(

He sat disappointed when a response didn’t come even after five minutes and he let out a sigh, finally deciding to just dry off his hair and finish getting ready for school.

“Youngjae-ah, don’t forget your lunch.” His mum reminded him when she saw him walking down the stairs, a paper bag in her hands. Youngjae smiled as he took the bag from her graciously,

“Thanks, mum.” He hummed out as he opened the bag to look inside.

“We had leftover chicken from last night, so I made kimchi fried rice to go with it.” She spoke as she wiped down the dinner table. “Have fun at school and don’t spend too much time drawing on your arm.” She playfully warned as he quickly pressed a kiss to her cheek before leaving the house, waving as he bid her goodbye.

Youngjae stepped through the gate of his house and made his way to his school. The tingle in his hand made him stop in his tracks and lift the sleeve to his blazer to see a long awaited response from his soulmate.

Sorry, my mum forced me to get ready :(

He quickly pulled the pen from the pocket of his blazer and wrote down a reply as he started walking slowly.

It’s okay! I’m actually on the way to school now.

He quickly scribbled the response, trying not to trip on his feet while he was walking. He caught himself smiling like an idiot whenever he was writing to his soulmate; which he was doing right now.

Youngjae sat at the bus stop and continued his messy conversation, watching as responses and questions started to scribble themselves onto his arm.

Have you eaten breakfast?

Are you paying attention to your arm or the street? >:c

Please don't trip

Youngjae bit his lip to stop himself from smiling any further. He felt like he had a genuine connection with this person even though he has yet to meet them. He really wanted to meet them.

He climbed onto the bus, lucky enough that there was one empty seat left. He sat down and quickly got back to his arm.

How do you get to school?

Youngjae questioned his soulmate, the bumpiness of the bus making it difficult to write clean sentences.

It's not far from my house, so I walk.

The answer scribbled itself into his arm. Youngjae was about to think of another response when he felt a pair of eyes on him. He looked up to his side to see the elderly woman sitting beside him kindly smiling at him.

"I remember when I used to do that with my husband." She chuckled when she realised she had accidentally caught his attention.

"Oh," Youngjae looked back down on his arm to see that he had almost covered his entire arm in writing. "I still haven't met them yet, so this is the only way we can communicate." He politely told the woman.

"When I was a child, my mother used to scold me whenever I wrote on my arm. But I didn't mind because I got to talk to my soulmate." She let out a content sigh as she spoke to him. "Hold onto your soulmate, boy. No one else will be able to understand you as well as your soulmate."

Her advice made Youngjae's eyes widen momentarily as he was a bit taken aback by her words. He struggled to find a response and decided to just politely thank the woman before turning his attention back to his arm.

Have you reached school?

Youngjae wrote on one of the last few empty spots on his left arm.

I just got to class. I'll have to wash these off soon :(

Their response made him frown, but his spirits lifted when he realised he would have space for more conversation with them.

It’s okay, we can fill our arms up again soon! :D

He stopped receiving responses just as the bus stopped at his stop, the responses from his soulmate slowly melting away as if they were being washed. Youngjae took this as his cue to quickly climb off the bus and walk his way into the school building, a few of his schoolmates climbing off as well.

Youngjae lifted the sleeve of his blazer to see if there were any new messages, but to his dismay, there were none. He stepped into his class, sitting at his desk beside his very quiet desk mate and stared at the board as he waited for class to start.

Halfway through the day, he felt a tingle on the back of his hand. He looked down and was surprised that the tingle was not from a sentence; it was a drawing of bones. His eyes widened as he watched the drawing of a skeleton hand slowly form on the back of his hand, the drawing becoming more and more detailed the further his soulmate went.

By the time the class ended, there was a detailed skeleton drawing on the back of his hand that left him in awe. He quickly pulled his pen out of his pencil box and wrote a message on his inner wrist,

Woah! What got you so bored?

He meant it to be a joke. No one would spend the whole class drawing a skeleton hand on themselves when they weren’t bored.

Algebra :/

His soulmate responded under his question.

I’ve always wanted to tell you my name, but every time I write my name down, the ink disappears :c

Youngjae bit his lip as he stared at the message. He never actually tried writing his name down to his mystery friend; now would be the time to try. He wrote his full name down, he gasped and moved back as he watched the ink fade away into nothingness.

Wow, I never realised that. That’s crazy

He quickly replied to his soulmate.

“Youngjae, are you not going for lunch?” His teacher asked when he saw Youngjae sitting at his desk. Youngjae looked up to look at his teacher before turning around to realise he was the only student still sitting in the class.

“Uh, I am. Thank you, sir.” He stood up from his seat and gave his teacher a bow before leaving the classroom. He looked down at his hand, seeing his soulmate starting to tell him about how boring their maths class was.

I’m so bad at this, I just want to drop maths ㅠㅠ

Youngjae chuckled when he read the message, his attention solely to his arm. He wanted to be there with his soulmate, holding them and helping them throughout class to make sure they were okay. He wanted to hug them. He wanted to be with them. He wanted his soulmate.

»»————-　　————-««

Youngjae stepped into the lecture hall that was already mostly full. Most of the students didn’t bother looking up when they heard the door open but the one that did immediately waved him over. Youngjae smiled when he saw his classmate and quickly made his way over to the seat he was sitting at.

“Where were you? I went back to our dorm and you weren’t there.” Jaebeom pointed out when Youngjae took the seat beside him.

“I was hungry so I went to the vending machine.” Youngjae shrugged as he offered the bag of half eaten chips to his friend.

“No thanks.” He shook his head, “I had a heavy lunch.” He leaned back in his chair and raised his arms above his head to stretch. Youngjae had met Jaebeom when he started college.

The two were taking different courses in the same field and ended up being roommates. While Jaebeom was majoring in film studies, he still had a few classes that would be combined with the performing arts majors; meaning Youngjae would have a few classes with his roommate.

Their shared classes were one of the main factors that brought them together. Before, they were just roommates that would wave whenever they would see each other. Over time, they became closer whenever they needed help with their classes and turned to each other.

“Youngjae, your arm.” Jaebeom pointed out. Youngjae looked down at where his older friend was pointing at and a smile crept onto his face when he saw a set of flowers starting to appear near his elbow. He leaned back into his chair as he watched the drawing grow. “Your soulmate’s quite the artist, huh?” Jaebeom pointed out as he leaned closer to see the flowers more clearly.

“They are. Ever since we were in high school, they would draw on their hands whenever they were bored. They told me they’re an art major now.” Youngjae gushed. He absolutely admired his soulmate’s art. He would always see it appear on his skin whenever he knew they were most likely bored or just wanted to show him something.

"They're really talented. I can't even draw a stickman properly." He joked as he saw how detailed the flowers were becoming.

"They only use pens when they're drawing on themselves and sometimes they use coloured pens. Look!" He practically shoved his arm into Jaebeom's face when orange started to fill into the petals. "It's so pretty!" He squealed excitedly.

"Woah," Jaebeom's eyes widened when he saw the tiniest of details being filled in with what they could only assume was an actual detail pen. "They really pay attention to detail."

"How could they not? They're an art major." Youngjae proudly said, grinning from ear to ear. The professor walked into the classroom but Jaebeom knew that whenever Youngjae had started a conversation with his soulmate, it wouldn't stop anytime soon.

As expected, Youngjae paid barely any attention to the lesson as he started to talk with his soulmate. Of course, they scolded him for not paying attention, but they soon got caught up with their daily talks as well. It was only when their class was dismissed that Youngjae realised he hadn’t paid attention at all and turned to Jaebeom with pleading eyes.

“Okay, only because your soulmate’s really good at art.” Jaebeom rolled his eyes playfully as they left the class, Jaebeom promising to share his notes with Youngjae. “What did you guys talk about this time?” He asked as they walked side-by-side in the hallways of their university.

“They’re gonna become an art teacher when they’re done with college.” Youngjae hummed out as he looked at the conversation that scribbled his arm.

“Well, they have the skills for it.” Jaebeom pointed out when he saw a new drawing on the back of his hand. A tingle made Jaebeom lift his hand up to look at it, “I gotta go. Mark wants to meet up.” He turned to Youngjae who nodded,

“How are you guys?” He asked as they stopped at the entrance to the performing building.

“Like how you’d expect best friend soulmates would be. I can never stay angry at that guy and it’s weird because he does the dumbest things sometimes.” He snorted as he patted Youngjae’s back and the two parted their ways. Youngjae, on the other hand, didn’t have any other classes for the day and decided to get back to his dorm to finish a few assignments.

Need any help with anything?

His soulmate’s question appeared on his right hand, the writing messy.

Why are you writing with your left hand?

Youngjae questioned them as he sat at his desk and slumped his backpack onto the ground beside him.

Running out of space on the left. Thought I’d try this instead.

He let out a laugh when he read that.

Maybe try writing on your foot so I can understand your handwriting properly :|

>:( Do you not like my handwriting?? >:(((

When you write with your left hand, it’s hard to understand ㅠㅠ

How about I don’t write to you at all? >:(

NO WAIT I’M SORRY

That’s what I thought ;)

Youngjae let out another laugh, louder than the one before.

I have to go, I have class :c

His shoulders immediately slumped forward. He didn’t want them to go. He wanted to talk with them more, but when he saw the sticky notes on his wall that were reminding him about his assignments, he knew it was good that they had class.

Youngjae pulled his notes and laptop out of his bag, and finally began his assignments.

»»————-　　————-««

“Are you excited?” Jaebeom asked, barely able to contain his own nerves as his knee was bouncing so fast, Youngjae was sure his leg would be able to run off on its own.

“Of course I am. We’re finally graduating.” He nodded nervously, turning down to his hand to see a message his soulmate had written for him.

I’m so proud that you’re finally graduating! You worked so hard, I know you did! <3

Youngjae felt his heart flutter when he read it. He had spent years working so hard and he was finally graduating. He knew his soulmate was proud, he could feel it. They had been there for him throughout all those years of blood, sweat and tears, and he felt like he honestly couldn’t have done it without them. He lifted the sleeve of his graduation robe when he felt the tingle move higher up his arm.

Don't forget me when you're famous >:((

His soulmate jokes. He let out a nervous chuckle when he read that. He didn't have any pens around him to reply and he felt like even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to think of a response from how nervous his graduation was making him. The anxious students watched as their chancellor stood on stage to give his speech as well as hand out the graduation scrolls, names being called one-by-one.

Youngjae and Jaebeom grew even more anxious when the creative arts department head was called onto stage to hand out the scrolls.

“Dude, what if I trip?” Jaebeom turned to Youngjae with his brown eyes filled with panic.

“You won’t trip. If you do, improvise.” Youngjae shrugged, raising his hand to give his roommate a reassuring pat on the back.

“Improvise?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, hyung. Just… B-Boy, or something.” His shoulders raise to give him another shrug, “Spin around on your arm, do the worm, crawl on the ground like you’re from The Exorcist.” Jaebeom stared at him with his mouth agape and eyes holding so much disbelief and betrayal.

“You’re supposed to help me, dude.” He grumbled as he turned back to the stage.

“Graduating with a degree in Film: Im Jaebeom.” The chancellor announced. Jaebeom stood up from his chair and Youngjae watched as he shakily made his way up the stage.

“Please, don’t trip. Please, don’t trip. Please.” Youngjae chanted softly as he watched his friend. He let out a breath of relief when Jaebeom managed to receive his scroll, stop to take pictures and safely walked off of the stage without completely embarrassing himself in front of the entire hall.

Jaebeom returned to his seat, letting out a long breath of relief.

“Dude! I graduated!” He excitedly turned to Youngjae and showed him the scroll that held his graduation certificate. Youngjae shared his excitement, watching as a sentence wrote itself onto Jaebeom’s wrist. He turned his attention down and read it out loud, “‘Proud of you, bro. Look behind you.’” The two turned around to see Mark waving from his seat a few rows back.

Mark graduated a year before but came back to the university to watch his best friend graduate. His face was beaming with pride as he gave Jaebeom a thumbs up and punched his fist up into the air. Youngjae watched as he did before looking down at his own wrist.

I wish I could be with you

His heart ached. He wanted his own soulmate to be there with him. He knew very well that this wasn’t the type of soulmate Mark was to Jaebeom. This soulmate held his heart in their hands, and he hates that they couldn’t watch him graduate. He also hates that he couldn’t be with them when they would graduate.

“Graduating with a degree in Performing Arts: Choi Youngjae!” The chancellor announced. Youngjae made his way over to the stage, heart pounding, knees shaking and his palms sweating so profusely, he could’ve filled a pool. He stood in front of the creative arts head who bowed when he did and handed him the scroll,

“Congratulations, Youngjae.” The professor smiled, letting the photographers and Youngjae’s family take pictures before he walked off the stage. His heart was still pounding in his chest when he made his way back over to his seat. He stared blankly ahead for a moment before it hit him.

“Oh my god, I graduated!” He snapped his head over to Jaebeom with the widest smile on his face.

“Yeah! Youngjae, we’re graduated!” Jaebeom shared the excitement, the two looking like a pair of dogs that heard the word ‘walk’.

“Congratulations, you two!” Mark’s voice spoke up from beside Youngjae. They both turned to the older man and high fived him.

“Mark hyung, we’re graduated!” Jaebeom excitedly repeated.

“I know! It’s exhilarating going up there, isn’t it?” He chuckled. “When the ceremony is over, let me buy you two dinner.” He offered. Youngjae looked down at his hand, seeing another message scribbled by his soulmate.

Congratulations! Now that you’re graduated, you don’t have to cry all the time anymore ;) I’m joking. In all seriousness, I’m devastated that I can’t be with you, but I am so proud that you pushed through all of those hard nights. I know how hard you worked, I know how much you want to become a vocal coach, and I’m so glad that you’re one step closer to your dream!! <3

His heart melted, but it had also never ached so much. Youngjae wondered how much longer it would be before the two could finally cross paths and be with each other. He wondered how many more days he had to wait before he could finally hold them in his arms.

»»————-　　————-««

“Okay, class. Open up your textbooks.” Youngjae ordered, his voice echoing off of the walls of the lecture hall. He watched as the students opened up their books obediently. “Now, throw that shit out.” The students snapped their heads up in surprise, all of their attention on him. “What do you use when you sing?” He questioned. All of their hands raised into the sky and he pointed at a random student.

“Your voice.” The girl muttered out.

“Correct.” He nodded and turned to the whiteboard, “You don’t learn from books. If you want to sing, you have to learn through experience. Not a book,” He lifted the textbook that was on his desk, waving it around, “Especially not a book this thick.” He snorted as he put it back on his desk.

Youngjae sat himself on the edge of his table and looked at his class, “So, who wants to hear a song I wrote about my dog, Coco?”

»»————-　　————-««

“Youngjae,” A knock on the door to the lecture hall followed by the voice made Youngjae turn around to see Jaebeom peeking his head into the empty hall, a cheeky smile on his face.

“JB hyung? What are you doing here?” Youngjae asked as he picked up the rest of his stuff and made his way over to the door.

“I thought I’d pay you a visit. I haven’t properly seen you since you started working here.” He shrugged and moved aside to let Youngjae step out of the hall.

"You're just in time. This was my last class for today , so we can hang out for a bit before I have to start marking assignments." The two of them walked down the hallway, suddenly being hit with a wave of nostalgia. "This feels like every time we had class together." Youngjae chuckles, missing the times before when the two of them were studying.

"Yeah, it does." Jaebeom chuckled as well. "Never thought we'd be walking through these halls again to be honest." He laughed, reminiscent of the years spent there. The times they would walk the halls together either heading to the same lecture hall or to part ways at the stairs echoing through his mind as a memory.

"I honestly wasn't even aiming to work here. I thought that maybe I would end up working at a music academy." Youngjae stated as they left the building. "What are you up to nowadays, hyung?" He turned his head to look at Jaebeom.

"Well, here and there. You know how film directing can be." Jaebeom's shoulders raise and drop in a shrug, "Sometimes there's work, sometimes the script just seems so absurd I'm worried the writer will get bullied for it." He let out a sigh.

He didn't like turning down scripts and ideas, and even if the idea was appealing to him, he was worried he wasn't a good enough director to bring the script to life.

"Hey, we just started working around a year ago. It'll get better soon." He reassured him. "For what it's worth, I think you're an amazing director, hyung. The films that you have directed turned out amazing. Especially those short films we used to work on together in college." He hummed out as they strolled together along the pavement of the university.

"You think so?" Jaebeom glanced over at Youngjae, unsure of whether or not he was being serious or whether he was simply being reassuring .

"I know so." Youngjae nods certainly. "Just let me know if you need a singer. This kid in my class - my God, he is so talented." He laughed as he gushed about his students.

Jaebeom listened intently, enjoying that they had never fallen out of touch even after they began working. The smile on his face never faltered. He hadn’t been able to spend proper time with Youngjae ever since they both started working. Unfortunately for the two, whenever Jaebeom was free, Youngjae had assignments to evaluate. Whenever Youngjae was free, Jaebeom had a film to direct.

They walked through the open area of the university. It mostly looked the same as it did many years ago, but it felt weird for the two of them to walk down the path together as working adults rather than students.

“There’s this one girl in one of my classes, she’s one of the music majors, but she’s so bitchy to the other students. It makes me feel bad for them since most of them are either as talented or, dare I say, more talented.” Youngjae sighed.

“Just fail her, dude. She’ll get the message.” Jaebeom suggested with a shrug.

“No, hyung. That’s not fair.” He shook his head and frowned at the older man. Youngjae didn’t like purposefully failing his students. It didn’t feel fair. He actually tried his hardest to make sure they would pass.

“What’s her work usually like? Is it good?” He questioned. Youngjae thought about it before shrugging,

“It’s…average I guess. She isn’t part of the top 5 in her class.”

“Then, lower her grades just a little more. Show her that if she focuses on her work rather than putting the other students down, her grades will go up.” Jaebeom explained. Youngjae glanced over at him as he took in his advice.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt just to lower her grades a bit.” He nodded. They continued to walk until they reached the fountain in the front. “Oh, that’s her.” Youngjae gestured towards one of the girls amidst two others, sitting together at the bench in front of the fountain.

“Well, she looks bitchy.” Jaebeom pointed out when he saw the way she tripped one of the other students as he walked past her.

“She’s a lot to handle. She always wears those really short skirts to classes with male lecturers and it freaks me out.” Youngjae scrunched his face up in disgust.

“For grades or…. Is she just kinda like that?” He questioned as they tried to steer clear of her path.

“According to one of the students in my class, it’s for grades.” He stated.

“Mr Youngjae!”

“Oh god.” Youngjae froze when he heard her voice calling him. He reluctantly turned around to face her as she came up to him, the smell of her nose burning perfume wafting over the two as she stood in front of Youngjae. “Hey, Maya.” He suppressed his sigh as he greeted her.

“Can I ask you about that assignment on music genres?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“Uhh, sure. Do you have any problems with it?” He questioned.

“Are we allowed to write about any artists?” She asked. Youngjae nodded. “Are there any specific genres we shouldn’t write about?”

“Not really. It’s up to you. I mentioned this in class.” He pointed out.

“I know, I just wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying.” Her voice lowered as she took a step closer to him. “You should wear this jacket more often. It makes your arms look nice, sir.” She whispered, causing Youngjae to recoil in disgust and take a step back.

“Yeah, uhm, thanks for that, I guess?” He awkwardly muttered out. He quickly turned around to Jaebeom and with the urgent look in Youngjae’s eyes, he knew exactly what to do.

“Jagiya~ We’re going to be late.” He cooed as he snaked his arm around Youngjae’s and gently tugged him.

“Y-Yeah, sorry Maya. I’m a bit busy right now. If you have any more issues, just email me.” He cleared his throat and turned around, the two of them quickly walking away from her. Jaebeom kept his arm linked with Youngjae,

“Wait until she can’t see us anymore.” He whispered to Youngjae. “Okay.” He pulled his arm away from him once they were out of her line of sight.

“Oh my god, hyung, that was so weird, but thank you.” Youngjae let out a sigh of relief. “Did you see the look on her face?” He laughed.

“She looked so defeated.” Jaebeom chuckled.

“As fun as that was, never do that again.” He snorted.

“Why not? It worked, didn’t it?” He raised an eyebrow as he hugged Youngjae’s arm, “Jagiyaa~ why don’t you like me?” Jaebeom whined out with a pout on his lips while Youngjae laughed as he tried to pull his arm out of his grip, resorting to taking his jacket off and pulling away. “Woah, you got a tattoo?” Jaebeom questioned, his eyes going wide when he saw the geometric peony design on Youngjae’s forearm.

Youngjae looked down, realising that he had almost completely forgotten that he had actually gotten the flower design tattooed the year before.

“Oh, yeah, I did.” He hummed out as he extended his arm to let Jaebeom get a closer look at it. “My soulmate drew it on their arm. I thought it would be nice to get it tattooed, then it wouldn’t go away whenever they had to wash it off.” He smiled slightly as he looked at it.

“Still haven’t met them yet, huh?” Jaebeom asked.

“Not yet.” Youngjae sighed as he took his jacket from Jaebeom. “I don’t even know their gender. They’ve never seemed to try.”

“Have you guys talked recently?” He questioned but Youngjae shook his head.

“They’ve been really busy in the past few weeks.” He muttered out. “The last time we talked they said they have a lot of art projects that need to be done before the month’s over. I’ve been leaving little encouraging messages on my arms but I haven’t gotten much of a response.” He pursed his lips.

“Give it time, they’ll respond soon.” Jaebeom reassured him.

“I’ve been looking through art galleries if maybe I could find any kind of art that was similar to theirs, but I haven’t been able to find anything.” Youngjae let out another sigh.

“There’s an art gallery happening this weekend in town. You wanna check it out? We can meet at the train station or something.” He suggested.

“Sure. I don’t think I have much going on this weekend.” He nodded as he pulled his phone out to check his schedule, “Okay, I have nothing going on this weekend.” He clarified.

“Great, okay, so I’ll meet you at the train station on Saturday.”

“Sounds good.”

»»————-　　————-««

“Alright, so…” Jaebeom hummed out, his eyes stuck to the leaflet he had picked up right before they stepped into the exhibition building. “The art is by different artists. Their names are written beside the art.” He turned away to look at Youngjae, “Any one of these could be by your soulmate, you ready to go in?” He questioned.

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for them my entire life and this is the third art gallery I’ve been to.” Youngjae nodded. The two stepped into the exhibition, their eyes widening when they saw the art that was displayed. “Holy shit, this is the best gallery I’ve been to.” He muttered out in awe as they went further into the exhibition. The array of paintings and different techniques used made the hall they walked into seem almost magical.

“Check this out.” Jaebeom spoke up as he stopped in front of a wire sculpture. .

“Is that a bird cage?” Youngjae questioned as he tilted his head to try and understand what he was looking at.

“Yeah, it is.” He hummed out after he read the description sitting beside it.

“I’m gonna keep walking around.” Youngjae hummed out as he walked away from Jaebeom and started to walk deeper into the building, the different types of art seeming to engulf him as he did. The sound of his footsteps against the wooden floor echoed throughout the mostly empty hall, his eyes pleased with the sight of all of the paintings and sculptures that almost seemed to have life as he walked past them.

His eyes scanned over the paintings before stopping at a particular one. His eyes moved over the way the flower was painted, the way the colours blended together and how the design seemed was obviously way more intricate than it seemed.

“Hyung.” Youngjae called when he turned to see Jaebeom slowly catching up with him. His head turned when he heard Youngjae’s voice and he picked up his pace. “Don’t they look the same?” Youngjae questioned as he lifted his forearm to compare the two flower designs. Jaebeom took a look at the painting before averting his gaze to Youngjae’s arm.

“A little bit.” He hummed in agreement before stepping closer to the painting to read the description. “It says here the artist behind the painting was inspired by a connection between her and her soulmate.”

“Her?” Youngjae questioned as he took a step to read the description as well.

“Yeah.” Jaebeom nodded as he turned to Youngjae who had a finger on his lip as he thought about it. He looked down at the tattoo on his arm before turning back up the older male,

“Does it say her name?”

“It doesn’t say her name. Just the description. Oh wait - this is a nickname.” He pointed out. Youngjae moved closer to read the name.

“Peony Girl?” He read out the name but it came out as more of a question. “Do you still have that leaflet?” He turned to Jaebeom who nodded and pulled the folded paper out of his pocket. He unfolded it and opened it up,

“Ah, here she is. There’s no pictures of her, just a picture of a flower.” He held up the leaflet to allow Youngjae to see it as well. “Says here she barely ever shows her face in stuff like this. She only puts drawings of flowers in the place she puts pictures down and she barely uses her real name.”

“Does it have her real name?” Youngjae asked as he moved closer to read the description of this mysterious Peony Girl.

“Nope, but it does have her Instagram and her Twitter.” Jaebeom pointed to the handles that were written underneath her description. Youngjae pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jeans and searched up her handles, her Instagram showing up almost immediately when he did.

“This is her.” He scrolled through her posts, most of them flower related with a few of different more abstract drawings and paintings scattered throughout her feed.

“Do they look similar to what your soulmate used to draw on their arm?” Jaebeom asked as he turned to look at Youngjae.

“Not really - wait.” He was about to shake his head when his finger stopped scrolling. He pressed on one of her posts and his breath hitched in his throat. It was exactly the same as his tattoo. “Hyung, look.” He muttered out and angled himself to let Jaebeom have a look at his phone.

“That looks exactly like yours.” He gasped out and zoomed into the picture. “Youngjae, it’s the same exact design. Read the description.” He pushed the phone into his face.

“‘Made a geometric peony design that my soulmate ended up getting it tattooed. I have yet to meet them and see how the tattoo turned out, but I hope it turned out well!’ Oh my god, I think this is them.” Youngjae could feel his heart starting to beat faster the more he scrolled through Peony Girl’s Instagram.

The more posts he saw, the more he realised how familiar her art style was. From the very first few of her posts, to the more recent ones, he recognised many of them from the flowers his soulmate would draw on their arms whenever they had extra time or were bored. So many reminded him of his time in school, his time in college, his time during training.

“Youngjae, I think we found your soulmate.” Jaebeom muttered out as he scrolled through Peony Girl’s Instagram on his own phone.

“Can we contact her?” Youngjae asked as he turned to Jaebeom.

“Send her a message, I guess.” He shrugged, not knowing how to approach the situation. Youngjae’s finger hovered over her DM, unsure if he should just message her out of nowhere or not. Just as he was about to send her a message, a voice called out from behind the two.

“Choi Youngjae.” The voice softly called out. Youngjae and Jaebeom whipped their heads around and Jaebeom’s face contorted in confusion when he saw you standing quite a distance away from them, your eyes fixated on Youngjae. The name that slipped past your lips was a name you didn’t know yet it felt so familiar when it rolled off of your tongue.

Youngjae stared at you for a moment, suddenly forgetting how to breathe as he stared at you. The name echoed in his head as he stared at you.

“(Y/n).” The name left his lips before he could even wonder who the name belonged to. It was when your name left his lips that Jaebeom realised exactly who you were and he took a few steps back as you and Youngjae took slow steps towards each other, both with pounding hearts, both with clammy palms.

The bag that was resting on your shoulder dropped when Youngjae wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a body crushing hug, holding you as though he was scared you would disappear.

“I-I’ve been waiting for you for so long.” Youngjae breathed out shakily in your ear, his grip around you tightening.

“I have too.” You whispered, your eyes closed as you relished in the feeling of finally being in his arms, breathing in his scent for the first time; the scent you didn’t even know you had been waiting for your entire life. Youngjae finally pulled away after what felt like minutes of just holding you, his face immediately moving to cup your face,

“(Y/n): that’s the name that kept fading away from your arm whenever you’d write it down.” He breathed out with a smile on his face, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he took in your features.

“It is. I’ve been trying for so long. I’ve been trying to look for you for so many years.” You nodded happily, the smile on your face growing the more you took in the colour of his eyes.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think you’d come to an exhibition with your own art.” Youngjae questioned as his hands dropped to take your hands instead, his thumb gently running over your knuckles but his eyes never leaving your face.

“I like to come here to see if anyone looks at my art. It’s nice to see people stop when they see my flowers.” You hummed out as you turned your attention to the flower painting on the wall. “I actually chose this because I was hoping that maybe you would come to exhibitions to look for me.” You explained, a blush creeping onto your cheeks as you realised how cheesy it sounded.

“I’m glad you did.” He reassured you with a wide smile on his face, his hand squeezing yours. “Oh! My tattoo.” He lifted his arm to show you the design on his arm. “Your drawings did end up bringing us together.” He let out a soft giggle as he saw the way you traced the tattoo, your fingers ever so gingerly grazing his skin with a soft hum leaving your lips.

“Yeah, they did.”

132 notes · View notes

yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

Catherines (part one)

[Heathers AU]

[Tour!verse]

Word count: 3469

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

-Beautiful-

“Dear Diary,

Catherine said she teaches people real life. She said, ‘Real life sucks losers dry. If you wanna fuck with the eagles, then you have to learn to fly.’

I said, ‘So you teach people how to fly?’

She said, ‘Yes.’

I said, ‘You’re beautiful.’”

“GOD, come ON, Elizabeth!”

A muscled, gazelle-like leg slammed into Bessie’s back, causing her to flinch and drag her pen across the journal she was writing in, leaving a black line that obscured some of the words. Bessie wrinkled her nose, then squinted up through the headache-inducing overhead fluorescence to look at the beautiful young woman now standing before her.

Katherine Howard was a sight for sore eyes, that was for sure. Completely unblemished tan skin, wavy dirty blonde hair that fell like sun-kissed silk around her head, striking golden-green eyes, muscles… The hot pink blazer she was wearing fit her body perfectly, and the black skirt she had on to go with it swished gently around her powerful thighs. Technically, they were breaking the dress code, as she didn’t have on any tights to go underneath it, but no teacher seemed to say anything about it. Bessie had to guess it was because of Howard’s father’s status and money.

“What’s your damage, Katherine?” Bessie snapped, though her voice cracked and wavered slightly, as it always did, rendering her comment about as effective as a baby white lion trying to roar to scare off predators.

“Don’t blame me, blame Catherine.” Howard retorted smoothly. “She told me to, ‘haul your ass to the cafe pronto.’” She looked up at the other girl standing there. “Back me up, Catherine.”

“Yeah, she really wants to talk to you, Elizabeth.” Catherine Parr said. She was taller than all of them, but quite a bit meeker than her two fellow K/Catherines. Her curly brown hair was done in a style that made Bessie’s scalp hurt just looking at it, but complimented her even darker brown eyes well. Her skin was the shade of melted caramel, clashing well with her signature color: blue. The blazer she had on such color was as expensive as Howard’s, but slightly more wrinkled and slightly frayed on one sleeve from her messing with the threads when she would read. The skirt she wore was plaid, which most people would find extremely ugly, but Bessie thought it fit Parr.

“Okay, okay,” Bessie said, standing up from the staircase she had been sitting on. “I’m coming. And, please, Bessie. Call me Bessie. We’ve been friends for, what? A year and a half now? Elizabeth is WAY too formal for me.”

Howard and Parr giggled, making a small smile twitch on Bessie’s lips. She liked making them laugh. Proved she could do one thing right and serve as the comedic relief for the group.

Bessie scooped her belongings up, messily stuffing her diary and pen into her messenger back, and then followed Howard and Parr down the hallway. Anyone standing in the way instinctively moved away like peasants parting for a queen. And they may as well have been, seeing as they were the most popular girls in school.

Okay, well-- at least Howard, Parr, and their quartet leader was. Bessie was more of a plus one, a special exception, a stray they found on the streets and thought was too pitiful to throw away.

Their group was called the Catherines (pretty cool that they managed to get three girls with the name Catherine, right? what luck!), and they ruled Crown Ridge High School. Everyone, from new Year 10s to long-lasting Year 13s, knew of their reign--even the teachers! Nobody messed with them, because they knew there would be hell to pay if they did.

Howard pushed open the set of double doors coming up in front of them, and the trio passed into a world of chaos.

The lunch room was always like this- noisy, thundering, booming, any other synonym for loud… Kids were absolutely everywhere, crammed into the lunch tables or sitting at the bistro or standing in the lunch lines, all talking, worrying, planning, reacting at once.

And then, in the middle of the mess, there she stood: Catherine of Aragon.

Catherine of Aragon, or Catalina de Aragon as her heritage suggests, was like a yellow diamond in a bat-infested cave. She was gorgeous, that’s for sure, her luscious dark brown hair tied back in a perfect ponytail with thick marigold scrunchy, without a strand out of place, and her fair skin enviably clear. Her eyes were dark and challenging, like twin pieces of polished onyx poised in her sleek skull. The golden silk blazer (Bessie didn’t even know they made silk blazers until she first saw it) she wore glittered in the lights, as if it were charged with electricity, and the black skirt matching with it made her look like the queen of a wasp colony. When she saw Bessie coming over with Howard and Parr, she gave a snake-like smile that only meant she was up to something.

“Elizabeth,” She said, the only one to never use the nickname no matter how many times she was corrected, “finally.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting, your majesty,” Bessie apologized. She tried to sound mocking, but Aragon didn’t seem affected by the title she was given. If anything, she looked a little satisfied by it.

“I need you to write a hot and horny, but realistically lowkey note in Anna von Cleves’s handwriting so we can slip it onto Joan Asstley’s lunch tray when she isn’t looking.” Aragon told her, but even stuttering as she laid down her plan.

Anna von Cleves was on the rugby team and so hot she could turn even the straightest women gay. Joan Astley, on the other hand, was a thin, pale-skinned, weird-eyed outcast with no friends and hair as light as Bessie’s own--but natural. The two didn’t exactly mix very well.

“Shit, Catherine, I don’t have anything against Joan Astley!” Bessie said.

“Watch your language, little lion,” Howard teased.

Bessie’s ears flamed red. Ever since she got a new haircut, the Catherines would not stop saying the poofy hair on her head made her look like a lion cub.

“You don’t have anything for her, either.” Aragon told Bessie. Then, abundantly blessed with smugness, she went on, “Come on, it’s be very! The note will give her shower-nozzle masturbation material for weeks.”

Howard and Parr exchanged smirks. Bessie glanced at them and sighed.

“I’ll think about it,” She said.

“Don’t think,” Aragon said. “Do.”

Shuffling in one of the lunch lines, Joan was getting ready to pay for her tray of food. She was dressed in a rather ugly clash of overalls and a pink floral undershirt. Aragon wrinkled her nose at the outfit in disgust.

“Yuck,” She said. “Overalls.”

“I’m wearing overalls!” Bessie yelped.

“Yes, but they work on you,” Aragon said, patting Bessie’s head. “Elizabeth needs something to write on. Catherine, bend over.”

Parr sighed and bent over. A clipboard was shoved into Bessie’s hands, and Bessie had no choice but to use her friend as a portable desk and write the things Aragon began to say to her. When she was finished, she tore the page free and folded it up for Howard to deliver, which she did smoothly and painlessly without being noticed.

“And now we wait,” Aragon said with a pleased smirk. “Come, ladies. I brought lunch.”

The four of them gathered at their claimed table, where clean, neatly cut sandwiches were placed out in each of their spots, along with some fruit and vegetable slices and cookies.

“Turkey, ham, and cheese, mozzarella and swiss specifically, with a dash of mustard for Catherine,” Aragon declared. “BLT for me and Katherine. And then, a grilled cheese for Elizabeth.”

They all tittered at the last named food item. Bessie grinned cheekily at them.

“What?” She said innocently. “At least I didn’t ask for a peanut butter and butter sandwich like last time!”

“I still cannot believe you asked me to make a damn peanut butter and BUTTER sandwich,” Aragon said. “You are a creature, I hope you know that.”

“I do,” Bessie giggled. “And it is GOOD, okay? I like butter!”

“I’ll bring you a tub of butter when it’s my turn to bring lunch,” Parr joked, and she and Bessie flashed each other smiles.

“I look forward to it!” Aragon rolled her eyes at them in an amused way while Howard chuckled and shook her head. Somewhere behind their table, a pair of kids at a booth were shouting about donating to a charity for Africa.

“Blount,” Aragon said, “Guess what today is.”

Bessie watched the older girl grab the clipboard and flip to a new page, and sighed. “Lunchtime poll? What’s the question?”

“Yeah, so what’s the question, Catherine?” Parr asked.

“Goddamn, Catherine,” Aragon said. “You were with me in study hall when I came up with it.”

“I forgot!”

Aragon snorted. “Such a pillowcase,” She muttered gruffly.

“This wouldn’t be the bizarro thing you babbling about on the phone last night, is it?” Bessie tilted her head.

“Of course it is.”

Aragon and Bessie stood up to begin, and that’s when Bessie noticed someone staring at them. It wasn’t exactly uncommon, what with them being the most popular girls in the school, but she didn’t recognize this gawker. He looked...different. Different in a way she just couldn’t put her finger on. And she was so focused on trying to figure out exactly what it was that she didn’t even realize she was careening to the side until she bumped into someone.

“Oh-- Sorry!” Bessie said, then noticed that the person she had accidentally knocked into was Maria de Salinas, an old friend of hers. “Maria! Hey!”

Maria smiled. “Hi, Bessie.”

“Hey, I’m really sorry I couldn’t come to your birthday last month.” Bessie blurted without even thinking it. Aragon rolled her eyes at her side.

“It’s okay,” Maria said. “Your mum said you had a big date. I’d probably miss my own birthday party for a date.”

Bessie felt a twinge of pain in her heart. She nudged Maria with a light laugh to try and get it to go away.

“Don’t say that,” She said.

“You know what?” Maria opened her bag. “I was looking around the other day and dug up these old photographs.” She handed a photo of her and Bessie during Halloween when they were younger, in which Maria was a fairy and Bessie was a bat.

“Oh, wow!” Bessie exclaimed, looking down at the picture with sparkling eyes. “This-- Wow. It brings back so many memories!”

“Come ON, Elizabeth!” Aragon said, yanking Bessie by the arm and making her drop the photo.

“I was talking to somebody!” Bessie barked as she was hauled towards a table with a cluster of popular kids.

“Oh well,” Aragon said dismissively. She halted them both in front of the table. “Hello, kids. Anne. Love your sweater.”

The head of the table, Anne Boleyn, glanced suspiciously up at Aragon before smiling tightly. She ran her hand over the sleeve of the designer emerald green sweater she was wearing.

“Thanks,” She said. “I just got it last night at The Limited. Totally blew my allowance.”

Aragon nodded like she cared, then read off of the clipboard, “Check this out: You win five million from the Publisher Sweepstakes, and the same day that Big Ed guy gives you the check, aliens land on the Earth and say they’re going to blow it up in two days. What do you do?”

“That’s easy,” Said another kid sitting at the table, Thomas Cromwell, before Anne even had the chance to give her own answer. “I’d just slide that wad right over to my father, ‘cause he is, like, one of the top brokers in the country.”

Aragon stared at him like a hawk watching a crippled mouse until Thomas wiped that stupid smirk off of his face. Bessie snorted lightly.

“If I got that money, I’d give it all to charity.” Anne said.

“You’re beautiful.” Bessie said.

Aragon growled deep in her throat. Bessie sidled around her and began walking to a new table. Aragon followed after her.

“If you’re going to openly be a bitch…” Aragon began.

“It’s just--” Bessie sighed, hoping to catch Aragon before she broke out on one of her furious tangents. “Catherine, why can’t we try talking to other people?”

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw,” Aragon spat. “Do I look like Mother Teresea to you?”

“Well, you are Catholic, so…”

Aragon flicked Bessie in the nose, eliciting a tiny yelp of pain.

“We have a reputation to uphold here, Elizabeth.” Aragon said. “Don’t act stupid. I know you aren’t.”

“Does it not bother you that everybody at this school thinks you’re a piranha?” Bessie asked.

“Like I give a shit.” Aragon answered breezily. “They all want me either as a friend or a fuck. I’m worshipped here, and you can be, too. And you’re just a Year 11.” She ruffled Bessie’s hair, earning a disgruntled noise from the girl.

“Come on, Catherine.” Bessie said. She brushed out of place white locks out of her face and looked up at Aragon. “Please?”

Aragon gazed down at Bessie, then wrinkled her nose. “Ugh,” She growled. “Don’t look at me with those big, stupid eyes of yours. Come on.”

Bessie beamed. “Thank you!” She chirped.

And so, they went around the cafeteria, asking the lunchtime poll question to a variety of new people, most of which looked startled that the two of them were even talking to them. They got an abundance of answers, varying from normal, to interesting, to completely weird. But they were the types of answers they had never gotten before this day. By the time they were done, Joan Astley had read through the note given to her and was starting to get up from her table.

“Come on, come on!” Parr waved Aragon and Bessie over excitedly.

“It’s happening!” Howard whisper-yelled.

The four of them watched as meek little Joan staggered her way over to the jock table, where Anna von Cleves and other various athletes sat, talking loudly. The girl stuttered something to Anna, then set the note down, which was immediately snatched up by Francis Dereham. After a moment of reading, he burst out into laughter, followed by everyone else at the table when the paper was passed around. Joan’s eyes filled with tears and she ran out of the cafeteria.

The Catherines were all laughing, while Bessie just frowned, guilt racing through her. Aragon noticed her expression and sighed heavily. She began to run her long shellac fingernails through Bessie’s hair, straightening and smoothing out the mess on the top of her head.

“You wanted to be a part of the most powerful clique in school, honey,” Aragon said. “If I wasn’t already the head of it, I’d want the same thing.” She made a tiny braid, then released the girl.

“Who’s that guy over there?” Bessie asked, nodding at the young man that had been staring at them. She didn’t know how to reply to Aragon, so she just decided to switch the topics.

“His name is Henry Tudor,” Howard answered her. “He’s in my Economics class.”

Bessie nodded slowly, picked up the clipboard form off of their lunch table, then began to walk over to the new guy.

The first thing she noticed was the trench coat he was wearing. The second thing was that he was built like a bear- large and powerful. His hair was golden blonde and he had piercing bright blue eyes. A smirk curled on his lips when he saw her coming over.

“Hello, Henry Tudor,” Bessie said.

“Greetings and salutations.” Henry replied languidly. “You a Catherine?”

“I’m a Bessie,” Bessie said. “Not in a cow way, though, Just my nickname.”

Henry chuckled and nodded. “I see.”

“This may seem like a really stupid question,” Bessie said, raising the clipboard up.

“There are no stupid questions.” Henry said.

“You win five million from the Publisher Sweepstakes, and the same day that Big Ed guy gives you the check, aliens land on the Earth and say they’re going to blow it up in two days. What do you do?”

Henry furrowed his eyebrows. “That’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard.” He said. “I don’t know. Maybe row out to the middle of a lake somewhere, bring a bottle of tequila, my sax, and some Bach. Then I’ll just sit back and watch the fires come.”

Bessie nodded, smiling, despite the weird gut feeling she had that was saying she needed to get away from this guy. “How very.”

Before Henry could reply, Aragon suddenly grabbed Bessie by the arm and swelled up like a venomous snake before Henry. “Let’s go, Elizabeth.” She said.

“Okay, I’m coming,” Bessie said. “Later.”

“Definitely.” Henry said back.

Aragon began guiding Bessie back to the table, where they finished eating with the other two Catherines. As she ate her sandwich, Bessie could feel Henry’s gaze on her, burning holes into her clothes, and that gut feeling turned into full on discomfort. It got so bad that she deliberately tried to avoid his line of sight while leaving the cafeteria, which caused her bump straight into someone for the second time that day. This time, the person was a lot less understanding than the first.

“Hey!” He roared. “Watch where you’re going, you fat fuck!” “S-sorry!” Bessie stuttered, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She suddenly felt a lot more exposed, as if she wasn’t wearing anything at all.

“Did all that hair bleach kill your brain, too?” One of the guy’s friends snarked.

“Or just fucking blind you?” Another said.

And then, the Catherines were there, materializing before them like a trio of vengeance-seeking angels in the lights. Howard eased Bessie behind her while Aragon riled herself up to her full size.

“What did you just say to her?” Aragon asked, her words like a hidden bear trap underneath a blanket of leaves.

“She bumped into me!” The first guy blurted in a woebegone voice.

“Oh dear, what a disaster,” Parr mused.

“How many times have I told you, Dudley, that she’s with us?” Aragon said. “Do you REALLY want to mess with us right now?”

“No,” Dudley muttered.

Aragon was pleased. “Good. Now apologize to Elizabeth at once.”

“Sorry I yelled at you,” Dudley said to Bessie.

“Us, too.” Said his friends.

“It’s okay,” Bessie said softly.

“Wonderful.” Aragon smiled, but her voice was all murderous stalactites, sugary-sweet and poisonous. She pointed to each of the three in turn as she continued to speak. “Anyway. He was asking for feet pics in private messages, he is cheating on his girlfriend with his sister, and she is thoroughly sick of them both and wishes she had better friends to talk to.”

With that, she turned and escorted her clique out of the cafeteria and to the bathroom.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Howard asked softly, massaging one of Bessie’s shoulders comfortingly. Her voice was gentle and so caring, almost like a mother’s.

“Yeah,” Bessie said. “I’m okay.”

“Stupid bitch,” Aragon snarled underneath her breath, furiously pacing around the bathroom.

“You aren’t fat, by the way,” Parr said to Bessie.

“But--”

“Don’t even try it Elizabeth,” Aragon hissed. “Or I will cut out your tongue, laminate it, and then pose it in my foyer, and don’t think I won’t do it.”

Bessie giggled softly at her threat. As strange and slightly violent it may have been, it meant Aragon cared about her. Because if she didn’t, Bessie surely would have been called fat again.

“Okay,” She said. “But I’m fine, really.”

“Good.” Aragon. “Fuckass doesn’t know who he’s talking about. You look great, Elizabeth. Even if that cardigan is questionable.”

Bessie looked at herself in one of the mirrors and saw that she truly did stick out like a sore thumb with the Catherines. If it wasn’t her bleached white hair, then it was her baby face, and if it wasn’t her baby face, then it was how she was slightly more chubby than the rest of them. Howard said it made her look soft and cute, and she didn’t ever know how to respond to that, so she would just laugh. And if it wasn’t any of that stuff, then it was her awful sense of fashion. Today, it was overalls, a black and white cardigan, and a light purple striped shirt, as purple was supposed to be her signature color.

“I got it from the thrift store,” Bessie said proudly.

“I am not surprised.” Aragon said. “You are not wearing that for the party tonight, by the way.”

“What about--”

“You aren’t wearing those galaxy suspenders, either!”

“W--”

“No!”

35 notes · View notes

me-myself-and-my-fos · 4 years

Text

Platform 9 3/4

Pairing: Percy Weasley x Nicole Weasley

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Nic and Percy take their daughters to King’s Cross for a new school year

A/N: More of me writing instead of working on assignments and also introducing our fankids

King’s Cross Station was filled with muggles just as it was every year. The Weasley family paid no mind as they headed to their destination, pushing the trolleys along. Molly checked her wristwatch, red curls falling in her face for a moment before she tucked the stray hairs behind her ear. She readjusted the glasses on her face and looked over at her little sister.

“Hurry up, Lucy, we’re going to be late!” She barked at her sister. The owl in the cage on Lucy’s trolley let out a noise, unhappy with being woken up.

“Molly, we have twenty minutes before the train leaves. We’ll make it, sweetheart,” Nic said to her daughter as she walked beside Lucy.

Molly was still young but already so much like her father. She had the Weasley signature curly red hair, along with her father’s eyes and freckles. Her nose was only something she could inherit from her mother, along with her mother’s love for muggle pens. It came as a surprise to Nic and Percy when their oldest daughter was sorted in Slytherin, but it made sense given she was as ambitious as her father and had a knack for being resourceful in any given situation. She also had a talent for being tricky, able to slip the truth out of anyone with ease. Percy saw a bright future for Molly in the Ministry.

The younger of the two, Lucy, was nearly the spitting image of her mother with curly dark brown hair, although during the summer the light gave her curls a bit of a red tint, and once again her mother’s nose. She had brown eyes with spots of green, as opposed to her mother’s true hazel color. Lucy was starting her first year at Hogwarts and was incredibly nervous. Her sister didn’t help.

“This year’s different, mum. I’m a prefect! I have to be there early to patrol the train.” Molly insisted. Nic looked over at her husband and gave him the ‘she’s just like you’ look he was all too familiar with. Percy shook his head with a soft smile as the four continued towards the platform.

“We wouldn’t be late if you hadn’t been polishing that stupid badge,” Lucy mumbled.

Molly’s head snapped towards her sister. “Excuse me, but being a prefect is not only a serious responsibility but an honor, and–”

“Oh look, girls, Platform nine and three quarters,” Percy interrupted, saving Lucy from the lecture she would have no doubt gotten from Molly. “Molly, why don’t you go first.”

Molly tore her glare away from her sister and headed straight for the wall between platforms. She disappeared into the wall and Nic smiled down at Lucy.

“Do you want to go by yourself?” She asked Lucy.

Lucy stood for a moment as she thought. She nodded. “Yes.”

Nic stepped away from Lucy and Percy grabbed his wife’s hand. They watched as Lucy took a deep breath and ran towards the wall before disappearing.

“She’s a natural,” Percy whispered. Nic smiled at the very obvious pride on his face. She kissed his cheek.

“Best not to keep them waiting,” she said, pulling him towards the wall. They rushed through and saw the busy cluster that was Platform 9 ¾. Lucy stood close by, hands gripping her trolley tightly as she had waited for her parents to run through. Meanwhile, Molly was already heading towards the train.

“Keep up, Lucy!” She shouted back at her younger sister.

“I’m coming!” Lucy rolled her eyes and pushed her trolley as she started to follow Molly.

Unlike most students at the platform, Molly was already wearing her school uniform minus the robes (She had insisted she’d put on the robes once she got to the train). Her green and silver tie was tightly secure on her neck and she smoothed out the sweater she wore. Molly stopped her trolley close to a section of the train that wasn’t heavily occupied and Lucy stopped next to her. The family of four loaded the trunks and owl cages onto the train, but Molly held tightly onto her ginger cat, Ginger.

Nic kissed the girls on the heads, checking over to make sure they had everything. “Wands?” Molly nodded, and Lucy held hers tightly in her hand before slipping it back into her pocket. “Good, okay, lunches? I packed you girls something to eat. Lucy, do you have your sweater from Gran?”

“Yes mum,” Lucy replied. “It’s in my trunk.”

“Good,” Nic pressed another kiss to Lucy’s hairline.

“I should get onto the train soon,” Molly said, surveying the students. She recognized plenty of students from her year and her house. Her face became bright red when she saw a boy from Hufflepuff, another prefect. He was a year above her but Molly knew him because his sister was her best friend.

Lucy pulled away from her mother’s smothering of affection in time to notice the boy. She grinned mischievously. “Molly, is that the boy you fancy?” She asked her sister loudly.

Molly glared at Lucy. “Shut up, loud mouth. He’ll hear you!”

“That’s the point,” Lucy giggled.

“Girls,” Percy warned. This past summer they had started getting arguments so much easier than usual.

“Watch Ginger for me,” Molly ordered her sister, putting the cat into Lucy’s arms. The cat purred as he was held, and Lucy happily stroked his fur. “I can’t carry him while I monitor the train.”

“Say goodbye to us before you go,” Nic insisted. She hugged Molly tightly, giving her a few kisses on the head. Molly groaned in embarrassment but allowed her mother to continue. When Nic finished, Percy hugged Molly tightly.

“I’m proud of you, Molls,” he said, reminding her. Ever since her sorting into Slytherin, she was deathly afraid of disappointing her parents having not been sorted into Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. A reminder from her parents every once in a while went a long way for her. Percy pressed a quick kiss to her head before letting Molly go. She waved goodbye to her mother and father as she stepped onto the train, and Percy swore he saw her wipe away some tears.

Lucy stood cuddling Ginger as she watched students load onto the train. Nic ran her fingers through Lucy’s hair.

“Are you excited for your first year?” Nic asked.

Lucy shrugged. “Bit nervous.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be brilliant.” Percy told her. “You’ll have your sister to look after you, even if you’re in different houses. Your Uncle Bill and Uncle Charlie looked after me when I started my first year.”

“What if the Sorting Hat can’t sort me?” Lucy asked.

“It can. The hat always can. Don’t be afraid, okay? I was a hat stall. It took seven minutes for the hat to decide whether I was a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff.” Nic told Lucy, giving her shoulder a squeeze of encouragement. Lucy nodded, a look of determination coming over her features.

The whistle blew to the train, signaling the train was leaving in 5 minutes.

“You should get going soon,” Nic kissed Lucy’s head.

“Before you go,” Percy smiled. “Is there anything you’re forgetting, Treacle?”

She stood there for a moment as she thought before shrugging. “I can’t think of anything.”

Percy pulled her glasses from his jacket pocket. “You almost forgot your reading glasses.”

“Oh!” She took them from him and put them in the pocket of her sweater. “Thanks, dad.”

Percy pulled her into a hug, a little longer than one he had given Molly, and kissed her head. “We love you so much, please write to us. We’ll see you soon, okay?”

Lucy nodded, smiling up at him. She waved goodbye to her parents before getting onto the train and finding a compartment. She sat down by the window and looked out of it, Ginger sat in her lap. She waved at her parents one last time before the whistle to the train blew. As it did, Percy put a hand on Nic’s waist and pulled her close. They waved to Lucy as the train started to leave. Once they couldn’t see her anymore, they stopped waving.

Nic wiped away a stray tear and looked up at Percy. “The house is going to be so quiet without them.”

“It will be,” he agreed. “But we’ll keep busy. We can bring back lots of things we did before the girls were born.”

They started to head in the direction they came to leave the platform.

Nic nodded. “Playing chess to see who makes dinner, trying new recipes for the bakery and making an unhealthy amount of sweets that we send to your family.”

Percy laughed and kissed her head. “That and more.”

That night, dinner had just been finished and Nic waved her wand, the dishes cleaning themselves. Percy was upstairs in his office, working on something last minute for the Ministry. It was the last bit he had to do for the night and then he promised Nic a relaxing evening. She was about to leave the kitchen when she heard a screech and saw an owl perch in the window. It had a letter from Hogwarts.

She quietly summoned a sickle and gave the coin to the owl before it flew off, leaving her with the letter. She opened it quickly and read through it. Nic couldn’t help but let out a squeal of excitement before hurrying up the stairs. She swung open the door to Percy’s office and he jumped in his seat.

“What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly.

“Nothing’s wrong, we got a letter from the school. Lucy’s been sorted,” Nic told him, barely about to contain her excitement.

Percy stood from his desk and shook his head as he smiled. “You scared me, darling. What has she been sorted into?” He asked, hugging her waist.

Nic grinned, showing him the letter. “She’s a Gryffindor! Just like her father.”

Percy kissed her head. “That’s fantastic. I’m so proud of her.”

“I can start making the house cookies for her and Molly now,” Nic grinned.

“I hope you make more, because once any of our nieces and nephews find out you made them they’ll start sending owls to us. And then my parents and brothers will want some.” Percy laughed.

“I know how it goes for us, Perce. Luckily for you, your wife is a very talented baker who is proficient in it both the magical way and muggle way.”

“Don't tell mum, but I do prefer when you cook the muggle way,” he whispered it, a secret between the two of them despite their empty home.

“I know,” Nic whispered back, kissing him softly.

#otp: rival minds #my beloved wizard #Weasley Fankids #mywriting #self insert community #self insert fic #self insert #self shipping community #self shipping #self ship #self ship community

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doof-doofblog · 3 years

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"Our Family!"

Monday 14th June 2021

Part 2

Hello again folks, sticking to my word this week, I am back with another blog post. Tonight focusing on the second part of Monday's episodes. Even though EastEnders have released all their episodes online this week, I'm sure the majority of you have binged watch them all already, for me - it makes it much easier for me to do it one at a time and do a blog about each one - tomorrow though, seeing as it's my day off from the day job, I'll be writing about Part 1 and Part 2 of Tuesday's episodes together - makes it much easier I'd say!

So without further delay, let's jump right into it! I'm going to begin with Keegan and Tiffany, after applying for Walford's Best Street Food 2021 Competition, Keegan is more than thrilled after receiving a messaging informing him that his business has been shortlisted for the competition. Of course Tiffany is more than thrilled for her husband, but did anyone notice the change in her mood as soon he mentions that he has been asked to attend a photoshoot so pictures can be taken to promote his business? I guess it's fair to say that Tiffany has always been drawn to wanting fame and fortune, whereas Keegan just wants to be successful in life I guess.

Excitedly, Keegan informs Tiffany that if he was to even become runner-up or even win the competition, the photos and all the media attention he'll be receiving should increase his following on social media, hence making his business more successful. As Keegan rushes off to find some decent clothes to wear for his photoshoot, Tiffany looks, to me, a little bit jealous! Does she wish that maybe it was happening to hear instead, or as well as? For me, it seems that Tiffany confirms that she's jealous by later suggesting to Keegan that they go into business together - she is so desperate for that taste of fame and fortune as well that she doesn't want to miss being a part of it.

As Keegan asks his wife's opinion on the clothes he's chosen for the photoshoot, Tiffany claims that she's had a brilliant idea and proposes that they go into business together. Her beauty course just so happens to finish this summer and it seems she wants to put her knowledge to the test, suggesting that they could bring their businesses together - Food & Beauty - make their own social media page to build a following and go to this competition together to promote their new business. Even though Keegan is eager to support his wife's idea - he does seem to question how food and beauty can go together? (I mean, I too don't see the connection with food and beauty - unless they go along the path of vegan/organic/no animal testing route - which could work?!). Keegan then suggests that Tiffany joins him at the photoshoot much to her excitement - but will things go the way they plan? Will they be more interested in Keegan business rather than Tiffany? I'm intrigued to see what will happen regarding this subject!

Elsewhere, Terry is still trying to work his way in with the local Walford women and it seems that Kathy is the lady in his sights. As he and Sonia enjoy another morning of Father-Daughter bonding at the café, Sonia questions Kathy whether she's heard anymore news about Max and Abi - just incase you guys may need reminding of Kathy's connection with baby is Abi is that she is technically her Great-Grandma - so of course Kathy is going to be wanting to see the young toddler and is eager to know whether she's safe.

After revealing that she's still not heard any news from Jack and mentioning that Rainie has been in a state since the news broke about Max taking Abi, Terry leaps into action to try and get into Kathy's good books by informing her that she needs to be with her family at a time like this and offers that himself and Sonia will cover her shift for the rest of the day. Even though Kathy is reluctant at first to accept his offer, Terry is almost insistent and gets straight to work by standing behind the counter.

However even though Sonia seems happy to be helping her Dad look after the café, she can't help but giggle after overhearing Terry singing her praise, giving their café customers the story about the time when she saved Ben's life with a biro pen after he had been shot by Hunter Owen in the Queen Vic. Honestly, I think that's another thing that the character of Sonia is going to be remembered for now - what do you guys think?!

Later on when Kathy returns after spending a bit of time with Rainie, Terry is still reluctant to leave, claiming that he won't finish the job until everything has been cleaned. Kathy is surprised to see that things have been left in good hands and a disaster hasn't occurred. It's then that Sonia takes it upon herself to urge Kathy into going for a drink with her Dad, to which she happily agrees. Is this going to be new romance on the cards for Kathy? Honestly, I think she and Terry would make a lovely couple, and Kathy deserves a bit of happiness and I'd love to see her have a love interest, I'd love to know your thoughts on this possible new romance?!

The next thing I'm going to mention is Ruby. In this episode, after the receiving the devastating news that she's pregnant again and will most likely end up having another miscarriage, Ruby eventually informs Martin. It's clear that Martin is completely disheartened to hear that there's nothing that the clinic/nurses can do to stop Ruby from suffering with miscarriages. Ruby explains that she's so early in the pregnancy that when she does miscarry, it'll just be like a heavy period, unfortunately. I have to say, I think Ruby's character has been slowly changing since the feud with Stacey came to an abrupt end when Stacey went to prison, but I mean in a way that - she's trying to make things right with Lily and since the very beginning all she has really wanted is to have a child of her own. Devastatingly she informs her husband that she will end up having the miscarriage either that day or even the following day.

As Martin heads off to work with this news sinking in, Ruby is left to rest on the sofa, but her rest doesn't seem to last for long as she gets interrupted by a phone call from Lily's school, my first thought process was that Lily had been in trouble, but acknowledging that Martin can't collect her from school, Ruby takes it upon herself to collect Lily. As they both walk back from school, Ruby is questioning her stepdaughter as to how and why she feels ill - as clearly, she doesn't look it. At first Lily is reluctant to inform her of why she's feeling ill, but when she asks Ruby to lend her some money, Ruby is suspicious and questions what she needs the money for - it's then that Lily looks over the to building they're standing outside of, the pharmacy/chemist and Ruby instantly assumes that Lily has started her period. She tries in the most gentle way possible to reassure Lily that it's completely normal and it's something every woman unfortunately has to go through - but it's only when Lily creases over in embarrassment that Ruby looks confused. Its then that she admits that in fact she has nits and needs money for hair/scalp treatment.

Feeling sympathetic for her stepdaughter, Ruby helps Lily wash her out and comb her hair through to get rid of the nits. It seems that as time is slowly going on, Lily and Ruby are coming to enjoy each other's company and dare I say, beginning to bond. It's then that Lily then informs Ruby that Amy Mitchell has been, in a way, bullying her at school. Informing Ruby that Amy laughed at her as she was scratching and informed her that she wouldn't make any friends by the time she joins the school properly in September. Hearing this news, Ruby decides to take matters into her own hands, much to Lily's protests - but Ruby wants to do best by her stepdaughter and doing so, she confronts Amy on the front step of her house.

Stating that Amy must be ashamed of what she's done to Lily, she claims that bullies are weak people who pray on others because of their own misery and that they don't like the person that they are - Amy claims that she wasn't bullying Lily. Suddenly it looks as if Jack over hears the conversation and when Ruby informs him about Lily has told her, Jack dismisses Amy from the conversation and informs Ruby that it just so happens that Amy had nits the previous week, so it may look as if she passed them on to Lily. As they agree to confront each other in future where the children are concerned, Ruby heads back to inform Lily about what she's learnt.

However it looks as if before Ruby enters the house, Lily has been snooping in the "Worry Box" - what was she looking at? Is she going to make things much harder for Ruby now after she confronted Amy? Interestingly though, as Ruby informs Lily about Amy's nits, Lily tells Ruby that she doesn't need to worry, that she'll make a good Mum one day - which I thought was incredibly sweet of her to say, of course she has no knowledge about Ruby's diagnosis of endometriosis, but her just saying those words would understandably mean the world to Ruby. As Ruby smiles and goes to walk out the room, she suddenly clutches her stomach in agony.

Later when Martin comes home and finds Lily sat on the sofa with a tub of ice cream, he asks his daughter where his wife is, it's then that Lily informs him that she's been stuck on the toilet for quite a considerable amount of time. Instantly we know that means devastating confirmation that Ruby has indeed had another miscarriage and tragically lost a second child, without a word she comes down the stairs and gives her husband the saddened look of confirmation. They don't share a word between each other but Lily urges Ruby to join her on the sofa, as she does, Martin gives a small and soft smile, it must make him feel hugely relieved and happy that his daughter is making a go of building a relationship with his wife and building a bond.

Lastly, after getting caught up in another woman's pregnancy, through absolute no fault of his own and completely missing Linda's scan Mick returns home after being at the hospital and excitedly informs Nancy about his experience delivering a new born baby, but when he realises that Linda is still not home and after putting his phone back on charge to incoming messages from his wife, the realisation sinks in that Linda had to go through her scan alone. Desperately he tries to get in touch with her and eventually they end up meeting in the park.

It's this scene which really touched me in a way, it's the moment that both Linda and Mick come together and open up about how their both feeling about her pregnancy. I guess it's fair to say that since Linda informed her husband about her being pregnant with Max's baby, Mick hasn't really been wanting to speak about it or even if Linda mentions it to him - he's easily distracted or talks about something else completely. Understandably, Linda is feeling all sorts of emotions right now - being 6 months pregnant, carrying another man's baby and her husband not willing to talk to her about how he's feeling - it's no wonder she's getting emotional and driving herself mad with worry.

She states that Mick hasn't even felt the baby kick once during this pregnancy - whereas the other times she was pregnant, he happily felt her bump without asking. However of course this pregnancy is completely different compared to her previous ones, why would he want to feel the baby kick, knowing full well that it's not his? Mick sort of clams up when he's confronted with that aspect of things - he shouldn't need to be asked to feel his wife's baby bump - it's then that Linda admits that she's come to a decision, that she'll stay at her Mum's until the baby is born and then she'll put the baby up for adoption.

This news seems to shock Mick, does he know deep down that Linda is going to be able to break herself away from a her baby? Regardless of who the Father is, she has grown to the love the child growing inside her, so putting the child up for adoption for her family would be the most devastating thing for her I think, but it says so much about her character that she's willing to do it for her family, for her husband if he can't bring himself to accept the child. She voices that she was saddened to hear the news from Nancy instead of her own husband that he was having a slight wobble about her pregnancy. She insists that if she had known sooner about how Mick was feeling, she would've had an abortion.

However, Mick knows her too well to know that she wouldn't have had an abortion. The next question Linda asks is very valid one - even though Mick tries his best to reassure her, how would he feel if the child was born with ginger hair? Would it be an every day reminder to him that he's not the child's biological Dad? How on Earth would he be able to cope with that? Would people ask questions etc etc? She pleads for him to just tell her the truth and explain to her exactly how he's feeling about the whole situation.

It was this moment that really moved me, he takes a deep breath and admits to his wife that he was having worries about whether he'd be able to bond with the baby, but then he also reassures Linda that she has to stop blaming herself for what she did, to him it doesn't matter and they've become even closer and stronger in their relationship over the last couple of months. Together they can face anything! Referring to Frankie also, Mick says a beautiful meaningful quote :- "Something beautiful can come from something we'd rather forget!" - he then does the thing that Linda has been wanting him to do the most for a very long time, he reaches over the table and gently touches her baby bump, reassuring his wife that he will love this child, simply because it's a part of her! So touching, I nearly welled up!

I think this was the talk that both Mick and Linda needed, they needed to be on the same page and know that they were both in this together. Although the other obstacle they face is when the locals begin noticing Linda's bump, questions are going to be asked. Later, returning to the Vic, Mick and Linda both decide to face all their neighbours and friends together, united, and inform them about Linda's pregnancy. The locals are all thrilled by their news and congratulate them, but when they ask how far gone she is - instead of telling them the truth, Linda states that she's 5 months pregnant (where in fact she's 6) - no one would suspect a thing or even consider that anyone else but Mick is the Father of the child. Frankie acknowledges her excitement for becoming a sister again, whereas Shirley arguably questions why they hadn't informed her sooner, considering she's been back for a good while.

However, as everyone raises a glass and toasts Linda's pregnancy, Mick and Linda smile at each other, knowing that they can face anything together, united and strong! But will things get too much for them? We know that Kellie Bright is currently pregnant in real life and will be heading on maternity leave eventually, I'm intrigued to see what will be her exit storyline - I'm convinced it will have something to do with this current pregnancy story, but how will it play out? Will Shirley find out their secret and work out that she is in fact pregnant with another man's baby? Will she figure out it's Max's?

Ooooo I'm really looking forward to seeing what happens next! Thank you all for reading, it truly means the world! Please feel free to send me any messages or comments letting me know your thoughts and opinions on the current storylines! I'll be back again tomorrow! Love you all xXx

#eastenders #keeganbaker #tiffanybutcher #soniafowler #terrycant #kathybeale #rubyfowler #martinfowler #lilyslater #amymitchell #jackbranning #mickcarter #lindacarter #nancycarter #frankielewis #shirleycarter #maxbranning #soapblog #soapfan

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 4 years

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Goodnight, Aaron (Aaron Hotchner x OC) Chapter 4

Summary: With Hotch’s blessing, Sebastian begins to assimilate into the Hotchner household.

Tagging: @sunlight-moonrise, @clean-bands-dirty-stories, @genevievedarcygranger, and @davidrossi-ismydad

Chapter 3 // Masterlist // AO3 Link // Chapter 5

Dropping Jack off at school proved to be the easiest thing in Sebastian’s day, despite not waking up past ten o’clock for the past few weeks.

Packing his possessions only took two hours in comparison to the literal hellscape that was the cleaning up. His tiny bedsit hid plenty of nooks and crannies that hoarded dust and grime. On his hands and knees, Sebastian scrubbed away with anti-bac spray and wipes in hopes that he would get his deposit back.

He really fucking hated cleaning. It always took him way too long. Probably because he got putting on a video for background noise – it had to be something he found interesting to help pass the time but not so interesting that he would be pulled into watching it. A fine wire to walk and Sebastian had terrible balance to match his attitude. There was also the fact that he would often put off cleaning with the excuse of doing it all in one big go.

Past Sebastian was a bitch and Present Sebastian was suffering because of it

After a quick lunch of his leftovers, he lay back on the floor and dialled for his best friend. She picked up after three rings and he whined loudly to her.

“Bellamy, help me. I’m drowning in used wipes in my shitty shitty bedsit.”

“Hmm, delicious,” and Bellamy hung up.

Sebastian didn’t bother ringing up to see if she’d appear in the room. He decided that he would find out if she was on her way or not in the next hour.

Turns out it only took twenty minutes for Bellamy to push the front door open with the tip of her wedges.

“Why’d you call me to help you clean? Sexist pig,” and she swung her leg over his head.

Sebastian didn’t bother trying to dodge, letting the air shoot past his ear, a few stray hairs fluttering in Bellamy’s wake, “Because Klaus would make more mess, and I love your scintillating company – did you bring anything?”

“I got me coffee and you Haribo’s.”

Just another reminder as to how all that kerfuffle with his work visa was worth it.

He clasped his hands together as if in prayer, “I adore you; I owe you my life.”

With a grin, Bellamy tossed the packet his way, “Give me a cloth and tell me about your new boss then.”

Another thing Bellamy brought was the tunes. She was mumbling lyrics as she scrubbed away at the skirting board, Sebastian harmonising in terrible ways. The tasks didn’t get completed much quicker, but it was much more entertaining for Sebastian. Who knew what Bellamy was up to before this, she didn’t tell him.

Bellamy tossed a bag into the garbage can and peered in despite the smell, “Somehow still better than my flat.”

“When are you moving out by the way?”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll move into your bedsit.”

“Don’t, landlord’s a prick.” And Sebastian looked over his shoulder, a belated measure

“Still better than mine.”

Bellamy stayed right up until all the belongings were crushed into Sebastian’s car and the door was locked by them for the final time. It was a very unemotional time when Sebastian tossed the keys through the letterbox, and they left down the murky stairwell together.

To say Jack enjoyed the sight of all Sebastian’s bags pilled together in the backseats was an understatement. The drive back, he was more elated by the tracks leaking from Sebastian’s stereo. His chatter on the drive back about the games in the playground filled the time, and Sebastian was drawn into the world of spies Jack had created.

The energy dipped when Jack and Sebastian had to carry all of Sebastian’s belongings inside. The lift worked, thank God, but Sebastian was still weighed down with his bags for life. Plus Jack could only carry so much. He was only somewhat eager to drag Sebastian’s wheelie suitcase down the corridors. And even less so was Jack to get on with his homework once the car was clear of baggage.

Sebastian sneaked a sly glance at Hotch’s list of Jack’s preferred snacks before he made up some apple slices with peanut butter. Gotta trick the kids into eating their five-a-day.

Somehow, after that snack break, Jack transformed his mood into “very understanding” about doing his science work - especially for an eleven-year-old. He listened to Sebastian’s reason, one he wished he’d thought about and listened to when he was Jack’s age, was heard.

The Lego break was greatly appreciated too. Especially since it was coupled with the front door opening at quarter to seven to reveal Hotch.

“Hi, Daddy!” Jack trotted over and hugged his middle.

“You’re home early,” Sebastian cheered from the kitchen counter.

“On time for once,” Hotch set his stuff on the side, and his gun into the drawer swiftly after. “Don’t expect it to happen often.” Then, as Jack went back to the dinner table, Hotch knelt down and removed a second gun from an ankle holster. Sebastian didn’t comment. He must have just missed that last time.

“What you doing, buddy?” Hotch joined Jack at the table, subbing in where Sebastian left off. He brought his own pile of paperwork with him. But it stayed in his briefcase.

“Math.”

“Let’s have a look.”

Sebastian’s cooking playlist continued with its lyricless songs. But it was turned it way down and Sebastian felt more self-consciousness about each song still coming up. Towards the final seconds, he would hover over the skip button before deciding that it wouldn’t be so bad if it continued.

One of Sebastian’s favourite songs came on, but he had very little time to enjoy it.

When Jack heard that it was playing, he bounced on his little butt with excitement, “Sebastian wants to get married to this song!”

Looking between Jack and Hotch, who was looking expectantly for an answer with a little grin, Sebastian noticed his jaw was slack and promptly shut it.

“I would like to have my first dance to this song,” He explained, a little slower than Jack who continued:

“We listened to it in the car! But he doesn’t like a bit in the middle so he’s going to change it.”

Sebastian bit his cheek and got back to stirring the cabbage around in the saucepan in a triangle.

“Is this it?” Hotch tapped his pen against the homework, “The part you don’t like?”

“Not yet,” Sebastian replied, “There’s a change from three to four beats per bar in a sec first.”

And, as if he wanted to make things even worse for himself, Sebastian began to wave out the time signature with the fork he’d been using in the saucepan. Hotch and Jack watched the movement the movement change from a triangle to a lightning bolt as the song shifted into its denouement.

“So maybe I’d have to get it edited,” Sebastian finished, his voice fading out the more he spoke.

He didn’t point it out when they reached the moment of upbeat, just before the closing bars that didn’t fit with the traditional wedding idea. Who knows? Maybe he’d be unconventional if he got married, jam out with his significant other on the dance floor.

But he wasn’t about to discuss that with Hotch - or continue it with Jack for that matter. And he didn’t look up from his cooking until it was done and ready to be served.

Hotch ate with them, sat beside Jack while Sebastian was opposite. Jack gave an enthused rehashing of this spy game’s narrative beats. His fork was his baton as he orchestrated a rich tapestry of how he and his friends crept about the playground together. Interjecting appropriately, Hotch offered him tips of the trade, like some hand signals to use while sneaking underneath the windows of the classroom.

“Did you move in alright?” He suddenly addressed Sebastian.

Prayed none of his food was stuck in his teeth, Sebastian replied, “Yeah thanks, I’ll probably be unpacking for some of tomorrow though.”

Jack helped Sebastian load the dishwasher after dinner while Hotch disappeared into his office. It didn’t go unmissed, the way Jack’s behaviour slumped as soon as his father turned to walk away from him.

However, when Hotch reappeared sans suit jacket and tie, Sebastian bit back his laughter. Not because he thought the sight was funny, but he was just so pleased for Jack as the two began setting up a film. It was such a beautiful event to watch unfold from the kitchen table, where Sebastian was flying his Minecraft avatar about the server in search of something to do. He wanted to ring his mum, but by the power of time-zones, he was rendered incapable. So instead he punched a tree until it fell.

“Sebastian! Are you going to watch with us?” Jack said, his neck craning as far as he could go to look at his nanny while he pulled the puppy eyes on him.

“Um,” Sebastian threw a glance at the horrendous clock tower besides Bellamy’s mansion, “I’m gonna work for a bit, sorry Jack.”

The puppy dog eyes grew wider – how that was possible, Sebastian didn’t know – but Jack accepted the answer with relative grace and settled with Hotch on the couch, his legs buried beneath a blanket.

Sebastian decided to start building, something productive. But the further he got into his project, the further he wanted to jump into the ocean because of how ugly everything he made turned out to be. The booming opening titles of a Star Wars film brought him back to the apartment, where Hotch was retrieving something from the fridge, barely giving Sebastian just enough time to switch tabs to his email before he walked behind him.

But then he stopped beside him and spoke under his breath, “You live here too now. You don’t have to worry about bothering us.”

“Ah, I don’t wanna encroach on your time with Jack. And I was just gonna go to the shops. You want owt?” It all came tumbling out of Sebastian’s mouth pretty quick.

“‘Out’?” Hotch repeated.

“Owt, anything, it’s slang for anything.”

“Oh, no thank you. We’re all set,” and he held up the chocolate bar in his hand with a little smile. Sebastian’s stomach tensed but he returned the smile and closed his laptop lid, off to his room to get his rucksack.

Hotch’s arm rested around Jack on the back of sofa. They took turns breaking a square off the chocolate bar, Jack occasionally going for another between

“It makes sense that ‘owt’ is ‘anything’, if ‘nowt’ is ‘nothing’,” Hotch remarked, his head falling back on the couch to look at Sebastian. He shot him back a single finger gun.

“Now you’re getting it.”

“You don’t have to keep your shoes by the door either.”

“Oh, your poor carpets,” Sebastian let out a laugh at his oh-so-very-lame comment, making eye contact with the dress shoes that rested beside Hotch’s feet in pewter grey socks on the floor.

The shop was only a ten-minute walk away and he knew what he wanted. Sebastian still looped around the aisles as if he did not know where his next minute would be spent on this mortal coil. Eventually he settled on a slice of banoffee pie from the bakery. He answered the phone at the till, not so subtly bringing up the subject of their Minecraft time to Bellamy on the other end:

“Have you been on the server yet?”

“No, I’m marking some homework. Why? You wanna hop on tonight?”

“Ah, I’m gonna wait until Jack is off to bed first.”

“I’ll keep you posted on how the little buggers do with their homework.” And there was a clink of a glass in the background, “But I’m telling you, if I read one more ‘Curly’s wife’s nails are red because red means danger’.”

“Make it a drinking game! Don’t, don’t do that.”

Sebastian just missed the rain on his walk back. Thankfully so because his hoodie wouldn’t provide much protection for himself or for his pie. Upon re-entering the apartment, he was greeted by Jack and Jack alone.

“You alright, bud? Where’s ya Dad?”

“He had to get the phone.”

Speak of the devil, Hotch returned to the sitting room with his tie neat in place and suit jacket returned on his back. As he collected his belongings from his safe, he caught sight of Sebastian, “I gotta go to the office, shouldn’t be more than a few hours.”

He kissed the top of Jack’s head and nodded goodbye at Sebastian before leaving. It was then Sebastian saw that the movie was paused and Jack was eating the last square of chocolate.

“Do you want to finish the film, or wait until your dad comes back?”

“Finish it, please,” Jack drooled a little and Sebastian grabbed a tissue to mop it up.

He poked away at the pie before eating it. The pair watched in quietude before Sebastian remembered the last of his snacks at the bottom of his bag.

“You want a Haribo?”

They went through the usual routine: the Millennium Falcon speeding away with the gang barely intact before the credits rolled, teeth brushing, Sebastian reading Where The Wild Things Are until Jack was dozing off and not fighting his nanny easing him lower into his pillows.

The ugly-as-hell clock tower was demolished in favour of making a little paddock for the cows. Bellamy joined the server and insisted on an extension to their little home.

When he realised how dark his room had gotten, Sebastian checked the time.

11:03.

He closed the lid of his laptop. Then he lay down on his bed with his eyes open and listened. Just his breathing and the beating of his heart were heard, slow and steady for Lord knows how long.

Then the front door creaked.

Footsteps padded across the floor, and the hall light snapped on. A shadow beneath the door passed by. He heard Hotch go into Jack’s room. Then the light went out again and a bedroom door closed.

Sebastian turned over and closed his eyes, now that he was ready to sleep.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #my writing #wc: 2k+#r: male #series #goodnight aaron

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