#just remembered luci has a 2nd pair of arms

[hellishgayliath]

Daughter? What daughter? She’s my daughter now >:3c Have fun with my boy~!!

Stealing

Heads up: this is a long post of images because I liked them better on their own instead of 2 pairs

This took forever- and it was shorter before HELLI took MY CHILD and, me being me, had to make it accurate so DAMN ME

It is on me for showing my smol child after snatching Helli's so-

Maybe this'll be a grudge that we'll never return each other's children lmao

So- I guess- Pico is my son?- temporarily??-

S-Son..?? I WANT MY DAUGHTER BACK, but I also wanna be stubborn akioviehife

This is a stand off @hellishgayliath

[thatbookishasiangirl]

Are We Still Dreaming?

“Elliot, wake up.” 

I am drifting somewhere in between the vast, ever-expanding space of the waking world and deep, unrelenting slumber when I feel your lips press against the back of my neck, drawing me gently out of my sleep. My eyelashes flutter lightly as a smile pulls across my lips, my nose wrinkles and I draw the sheets over my eyes, murmuring under my breath that I need ten more minutes. Just ten more minutes. Every tender, careful touch igniting sparks of little fires across my skin. Another kiss on my shoulder and  then the sharp, deliciously painful jolt that comes from a tiny nip of the teeth. I roll over and attempt to glare at you to convey my false annoyance, but I am aware that my expression is one of unabashed adoration. 

“What do you want, Connor?” I ask. 

You lean forward and press your lips to the tip of my nose. “It’s time to get to work,” you whisper. 

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” I grumble, shoving half-heartedly at your chest. “Don’t you remember? The editor doesn’t need those revisions until next month. It’s May 2nd. I’ve got plenty of time.” 

“I remember that you put things off, and you put things off, and you continue to put them off until there’s one weekend left and you’re up all night panicking because you haven’t even started yet.” I roll my eyes. “And you put yourself through all this unnecessary stress when it could have been avoided by simply getting a head start.” 

I flop onto my back. The piss colored wallpaper above is peeling and flaking and the old ceiling fan rocks back and forth as it spins rapidly, threatening to come down on us both at any moment. Crushing us. Well, I think, to hell with it, if it happens it happens. I throw my arm over my eyes, knowing that you are right. Not wanting to admit it, this project is taking its toll. Everything happened so fast. On New Year’s Eve, completely and utterly shit faced, I stumbled down the street to the nearest mail bin and had shoved the thick manila envelope containing my thirty page novel proposal, addressed to my editor Lucy, and the very next morning I got an email from her declaring that this would be my most successful creation yet. 

“You always do this,” you say, not unkindly.

“I know,” I grouse. 

You wrap your fingers around my wrist and move it away from my face. You smile and brush a piece of stray hair off of my forehead. “You haven’t written something new since 2015. It’s been five years. The people are dying for your next bestseller.” 

I inhale sharply and reach for your hand, interlocking our fingers. “Will you make me something to eat?” I ask. 

“Avocado toast with crispy bacon?” you muse. 

“You know me so well,” I say, bringing your hand to my lips and kissing each knuckle in turn, before I lift my other hand and cup the side of your face bringing your mouth to mine. “Do you really want me to get to work?” I murmur against your lips. 

You laugh, your deep, beautiful laugh, reverberating through my whole body, sending chills down my spine. I could listen to your laugh forever. “Come off it,” you say, pushing my chest. 

“Connor…” I whine. 

“Elliot,” you say teasingly. 

You push back the sheets, exposing us both to the cold, and you swing your legs over the side of the bed. There is a soft thud as your feet land on the floor and you stand there in nothing but your questionably tight black underwear and you stretch your arms over your head. You look over your shoulder and grin, showing each and every one of your frustratingly perfect teeth. 

“What?” I say. 

“Nothing,” you reply, shrugging with just one shoulder as you grab one of our pillows and throw it at me. I catch it in both hands. “It’s supposed to be nice out today,” you say. “Maybe you can work outside.” 

I’m rolling my eyes again but by then your back is to me and you are walking out the door. For a moment I just lay there on my back, listening to the clatter of pots and pans as you move through our kitchen. I know you are right. With a deep sigh, I get out of bed. I walk to our shared dresser. It’s small, coming up to the chest of my tall body and there are visible signs of wear, like the peeling wood on the legs, but it was cheap and we didn’t have that much clothing anyway. I shrug on a dark gray hoodie with my alma mater’s logo across the chest and a pair of old baggy sweatpants. 

You wolf whistle as I emerge from our bedroom. “Looking hot, babe,” you say. 

I flip you off. “Do you think Stephen King writes in a suit and tie?” I question. “I would bet you real, actual physical money that he doesn’t.” 

You turn towards me, smirking.  “Let’s call him up and ask,” you say. 

“Shut up,” I retort. “Don’t be a smartass” 

“What was that expression again? Dress for the job you want?” 

I raise an eyebrow. “The job I want is to be able to work from home dressed in whatever the fuck I want because no one is going to see me.” 

“Oh, but I see you. Don’t you want to impress me?” When I glare at you in response, you chuckle and raise both of your hands. Your head quirks to the side in the subconscious, curious way it does from time to time. “In all seriousness, and for the record because I know you keep a record in the back of that brilliant head of yours, you would look good in anything. Hell, you could pull off a potato sack.” 

“Shut up,” I say again. 

“What, it’s true? Am I supposed to lie to you?” You place a hand over your heart with mock offense. “Because lying goes directly against my code of honor and if you’re asking me to lie, then that might be a deal breaker.” 

“You’re full of shit,” I laugh. 

And there’s your smile again. “Get to work!” you exclaim. 

I press the side of my hand to my forehead and salute. “Yes, sir,” I say.

My laptop is resting where I left it last night, open and sitting on the couch in a sea of blankets, empty soda cans, and snack wrappers. It was the result of not hours of hard work, but procrastination fueled Netflix binging; a result of you not being there to force me to be productive. You had been out catching up with some old friends from college. I grab my laptop and my cell phone and walk out onto our balcony. We are lucky enough that our apartment has one. It’s small and there is barely enough room for the pair of fold out chairs we have, but it’s better than nothing. And hey, you’re right, it is nice out. The sky is blue and the air warm. 

I open my laptop and go to the document. I stare at the screen. The text cursor blinks mockingly at me through the glass. All that vast white page. The blank space. The blank space that I need to fill. I take a deep breath and press my fingers onto the keyboard. I’ve been writing, or attempting to write, for about twenty minutes when you step out onto the balcony. 

“Here you go,” you say, handing me my plate. 

“Thanks.” I put the plate down at my feet and take your face in my hands, kissing you with intention. 

You kiss back, but for not nearly long enough. “Work,” you say. “Eat and work. I know how you can get on an empty stomach. You can take a break in an hour.” 

I nod in agreement. “Thanks again,” I say. 

You walk back inside, leaving the sliding door open. I pick up a piece of bacon.  It’s burnt. You burnt the bacon. It’s never happened before. 

I take a bite and it crunches and crumbles in my mouth. Several arms lengths away there is another apartment complex and another shoebox balcony. Through the sliding glass door I see the elderly couple who have been living in Boston long before we moved in across the way. The woman is standing at the sink, hand washing dishes. Her motions are slow and careful. She stares determinedly down at her hands, as if the dishes and the water and suds are her lifeline. If she were to stop washing those dishes then everything would unspool; her fragile bones would collapse and her skin would cave in on itself. I watch as she lifts a vibrant green plate in her hands, moving it around clockwise as she scrubbs every inch of the round surface. 

The old woman’s hands shake and her long silver hair falls over her face as she bends her head further over the sink. Her shoulders rise and fall and I realize that she is crying. The plate slips from her hands, splashing in the water filled sink, sending suds everywhere. Her husband appears soon after, hugging her from behind and rubbing his hands up and down her arms, whispering something into her ear. She spins around and collapses into his arms. I can hear her sobs through the glass and it’s entirely too much. 

I place my computer on the floor and stand, stepping back into the apartment. You are rummaging through the cabinets and when I come back inside, you stand straight with our largest mixing bowl in your hands.

“How would you feel if I made some chocolate chip cookies?” you ask. 

“Breakfast and now cookies,” I say. “You’re on a roll.” 

You smile and shrug. “I watched some Chopped on my phone after you fell asleep. I’ve got the cooking bug.” 

I can’t help myself. “I’m surprised you could stay awake after last night. I was beat,” I say, smirking and crossing my arms over my chest. The porcelain pale skin of your cheeks turns bright red and I know my words have had the intended effect. “I would love cookies.” 

You duck your head for a moment, staring into the bowl, and god, you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed. “Great,” you say. “And you can have as many as you want.” You raise your head again. “But only after you’ve finished at least one chapter.”

I groan. “But the cookies will be cold by the time I’m done.” 

“And they’ll still be perfectly edible.” 

“Oh but, Connor,” I say and I walk closer to you until we are only a foot apart. “Don’t you know that the prime eating time for a chocolate chip cookie is exactly two minutes after they come out of the oven?” 

You snort, but you are still smiling at me and I can tell that you want to throw that bowl aside and kiss me. More than kiss me. But you’re a good boyfriend. You won’t distract me no matter how much your fingers twitch with the overwhelming desire to reach out and touch me. I know that this is how you are feeling because I am feeling the exact same way. Our emotions, our desires, our every whims have always fallen perfectly in sync. I swear sometimes, that I can read your mind. I anticipate your needs and you anticipate mine. Your breath stutters when you are about to sneeze and I pass you a tissue just in time. I wake up from a long nap with an empty stomach and you’ve already prepared soup for me. In the middle of the night, when you are restless, you won’t say it, but I know you want me to hold you tighter. To tangle our limbs into a knot that cannot be easily pulled apart. I know your body better than my own. Where to touch you and how, to strike stars across your vision. You don’t need to speak for me to be sure of what you want. 

I take the bowl from you and place it on the kitchen island. It is barely big enough to be called a kitchen island, though, but we make the best of it. When we eat at it, we have to stand so close that our shoulders brush which really isn’t something I am complaining about, but it certainly makes things like baking quite difficult. I cup your face in my hands and tilt my head up to kiss you. You’re not that much taller than me, but you’re tall enough that I have to make an effort; I am forced to stand on my toes and strain to reach your mouth. 

“You’re procrastinating again, sweetheart,” you mumble against my lips, but your hands are curled in the front of my sweatshirt. 

“You’re not complaining,” I point out. 

I watch as you bite down on your bottom lip, teasing the pretty pink flesh between your teeth and I feel my own face grow hot. The air is still between us. 

“You promised me,” you say, sounding quieter and smaller than you ever have before. I don’t like it. “We would treat today like a completely normal day.” 

You have never been much of a crier. You hate crying. It makes you feel weak. Even at times when it would be perfectly reasonable to cry, you still never cry. Not even when you came out to your  beloved parents, hand reaching for mine and clutching it nervously, and they both looked at you like you were lower than the scum in the New York City subway. But right now your eyes are watering and I can tell that you are trying to fight it and becoming frustrated that you are losing. 

“This is normal,” I say softly. 

You shake your head. “No. You’re never this…” you hesitate and I reach down and take your hand in mind, squeezing it reassuringly. “Loving.” And I can tell you regret it the moment you say it because your eyes go wide. “Shit. I didn’t mean it like that. I know you love me. I do. It’s just- I’m not complaining, I-” 

“No, I get it,” I say. “And I’m sorry about that. I guess I was thinking maybe I could make it up to you.” I take a deep breath. “Please don’t make me go back out there. I don’t want to spend our last day together with my face in front of a screen, going crazy over a book I will never finish.” 

“It really would have been a masterpiece,” you say, your voice wet with those yet unspilled tears. 

“You give me too much credit,” I say. 

“You don’t give yourself enough,” you counter. 

You touch my face, your thumb stroking my cheek. “Will you tell me about it?” you ask. “We can go for a walk, just down by the park in the Boston Commons, and you can tell me everything.” 

I swallow hard, and it feels like something is catching in my throat, making it difficult to breath, and for a brief moment I think I might expire early. “That sounds nice,” I say. 

“And then I can take you out to dinner,” you say. “I hear they’re having an end of the world special at the Capital Grille.” 

“Can we go dancing afterwards?” I ask. “It’s been so long since we’ve been dancing?”

You grin, even as a single drop of liquid salt escapes from one of your brilliant cerulean eyes and slides down your face. I reach my hand up on instinct and wipe it away before kissing your eyelid as it flutters closed. “I thought you hated dancing,” you say. 

“I am incapable of hating anything so long as I am doing it with you,” I tell him. 

You nod. “I’d like that.” You sniffle and repeat, “I’d like that.” 

“Hey?” I say, gripping the back of your neck and squeezing lightly. “Just another day?” 

You laugh and another tear falls. “Just another day,” you echo. 

[onceuponadetectivedemigod]

The Wedding

Part Three (The reception)

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

@jayrami3

Prompt: 17 and 18

“God you are acting more dramatic than Rog in the man on fire video.”

“Calm down! We are getting married today!”

“Shit! You aren’t supposed to see me! You doomed us!”

The Reception

You and Ben decided to stay in the room you got ready in for a few minutes before joining your friends and family back outside. You both just wanted some piece and quiet for a minute.

"I can't believe I can finally call you my wife." Ben was glowing with love and pride. You were sat on the couch while he was in the bathroom, looking at you through the mirror as he reapplied his aftershave.

"I prefer Mrs. Jones over just wife. Gives it more meaning. Gives me your name." you said smiling. He started to walk over to you and he leaned down and kissed you. He plopped down on the couch next to you and cupped your face with his hands.

"God, you are just so beautiful." he said before he kissed you again.

"Sorry, Mrs. JONES you are so beautiful." he pulled away smiling.

"We should probably go and say hi to our guests. Hear the speeches. You know all the fun jazz. Get piss drunk." you giggled. He stood up and held his hand out for you to grab.

"Shall we then?" he smiled.

"Then, we shall." you spoke dramatically.

You started out towards the door. He laced your hand in his as you opened the door and headed downstairs. Everyone was outside and it looked like Joe and Jonathan were doing some weird dance routine. You opened the door and everyone started clapping.

You walked over to your table next to your bridesmaids and his groomsmen. You sat down in the middle next to him. Joe picked up the microphone.

"So, Mr. and Mrs. Jones Hardy everyone!" everyone started clapping again. Jonathan also grabbed a microphone and you knew this was about to embarrass both of you.

"So as you all know, Ben has been my best friend since we were in 2nd grade. So now that he is finally here, looking at Y/N, I am here to say I have been preparing this speech since 2nd grade and Joe is going to help me." Jonathan started.

"GOOD GOD PLEASE DON'T." Ben shouted at him.

"Too late mate, I'm doing it." Jonathan spoke.

"So in second grade, it was the second week of school, I had just moved and was new, Ben decided to come up to me and I thought, GOOD A FRIEND TO MAKE, but no. He slapped me. He grabbed my pencil and walked away. And I just stood there with my mouth open in shock. What I'm trying to say Y/N, is when he met you, he didn't slap you or steal your pencil so BEN WHAT THE FUCK?" Jonathan looked at you and at Ben.

"Anyway after day we became friends because I figured keep friends close and enemies closer but I actually fell for him, in the friend way. You, Y/N, I remember him telling me you literally fell for him. Off a 3 step ladder. Luckily he was there you catch you. But when I jumped off a house and broke my leg, he just laughed." He continued.

"I also remember in high school Ben could've gotten any girl he wanted. But he never did. He said 'I want to wait for a girl who truly falls for me. Not one who has some little crush.' Well you really did. Hard. I heard you twisted your ankle. Did it hurt? When you fell into his arms? I wouldn't know, Ben never caught me."

"THAT'S A BLOODY LIE AND YOU KNOW IT!" Ben shouted.

"Okay fine. He caught... Up to me when we would race around the block. I remember the day he met you Y/N. He spoke about how funny it was when you fell but he said you had the most beautiful eyes. Then when he walked into your work just to see if he could catch you again. He asked your number and then immediately called me. He took you to dinner and told me 'That was the worst first date I've ever been on. She probably hates me. But I really like her.' Then you called him, asked him when the next day he was free was. I saw him go from sad and fearful to the happiest he'd ever been. Up until that point of course. I think seeing him cry like a baby today beats that."

"I thought he was crying because he knew that he had blown it with me." Joe chimed in.

"ANYWAY. Y/N What we are saying is if you would like to return him. You are gonna need a receipt, and I dont think the marriage license counts, so instead I printed a picture of his texts to me about when he stalked you at your job." He grabbed a picture off the table next to him and sat it down in front of you. You read it, laughed, and thanked him. Now it was Joe's turn.

"Okay, I haven't known Ben nearly as long as he has or even as long as Y/N. But I do know that He loves her. I know that he loves me, gwyl, and Rami more. But he does love her, Despite how it may seem in the media. I remember it was one of our first weeks on set and Y/N came to see us. We were all gathered, the cast, Y/N, and Queen. And I remember we did karaoke and he sang Faithfully by Journey to her. So, because I'm an actor, I'm going to recreate the faces I made that night." Joe started making faces at Y/N. They were mostly disgusted faces and also him sticking his tongue at Y/N.

"Then I sang him Purple Rain by Prince and somehow I won his affections for a few minutes, but Ben, Since you decided my love isn't enough for you anymore, I brought a date with me tonight."

"No. Joe... Please don't pull out-" Ben started. Joe pulled out Cardboard Ben from behind the stage.

"CARDBOARD BEN. AND YES HE CAN DIP ME BETTER THAN YOU CAN. GOODNIGHT!" Joe screamed as he grabbed onto cardboard Ben harder and went to sit down

Lucy, your sister, and your best friend got up.

"please no." you whispered.

"So instead of a speech we prepared a song." Your sister started.

"A song, that defines the essence of their relationship." your best friend said next.

"And her favorite song as well." Lucy said.

"NO!" you shouted.

"YES." Ben shouted.

The music started and it was too late. All three of them walked up to Ben as started singing Wannabe by the Spice Girls.

After they were done. You both stood up, and made your way towards the cake.

"Ben, I swear I will let you shove the cake in my face on video once we get home, but I have makeup on right now and I swear on everything you better not." you told him seriously.

"You should do it, man." Roger came up and patted him on the back.

"He will get you both killed. Try me." you said looking Roger in the eye.

"Okay, but you have to promise that there will be a video." Ben spoke up.

"I promise." you both cut the cake and fed eachother each a piece. You started to make your way to the dance floor.

"Any requests?" Roger said next to Brian and Adam Lambert.

"You guys are guests you don't have to play." you told them.

"Nonsense. We wanna play your first dance song. We will join the party after that one." Brian smiled.

"Well then, Faithfully by Journey. You know our song." Ben said.

The rock stars made their way up to the stage when a curtain fell and revealed a drum kit, gitaur, and mic stand. Everyone started to cheer and they started the song.

You pulled Ben close and started to slow dance as he sang the lyrics in your ear. You could have stayed in this moment for forever. This was your favorite part besides the I do's. Because even though there were so many people watching you, it was just you and him. You were both so caught up in the moment of just the two of you, that the building could have burned down next to you and you wouldn't have noticed or cared. You were just focused on eachother. All that mattered was you and him in that moment.

[nympha-doras]

Cause Either Way You Cannot Breathe

Summary: "“Wyatt and Lucy, sitting in a car trunk, k-i-s-s-i-n-g…” Rufus smirks at the pair, clearly enjoying tormenting the lovebirds stood before him." Post 2x02, The Darlington 500.

FFnet / AO3

For @modernlifehistorian, I know you want this deleted scene as much as I do!

For @simply-anya, I’m sorry for keeping you awake!

Looks like I’ve taken to bribing my friends (just Anya so far, but I’m coming for the rest of you goats!) with fics…

It’s several hours after returning to the present day, when Wyatt finally decides to seek Lucy out. With the size of the bunker, you’d think he’d have an easier job of finding her, but it seems she doesn’t want to be found. He’d ruled out the common area, the bedrooms, and the bathroom straight away. Maybe it’s a sign. He’s just returning to the common area, ready to give up his search when a voice reaches his ears. A voice belonging to the one person he’s spent the past half hour searching this hell hole for.

“There’s one place you haven’t checked yet.” His head snaps up at her words, his eyes searching the room, They land on the lifeboat. Surely not.

“Lucy?” He approaches the giant metal eyeball. The stairs are rolled up to the door, but thats not unusual - they’re only ever moved away after missions, if Rufus and Jiya need the room to work on the machine. Despite still being unsure if he’s right in thinking she’s in here, he makes his way up the stairs anyway. It can’t hurt to check. He finds her sat in her chair, still dressed in her 1955 costume. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

Her eyes are closed and her feet are propped up on the chair in front of her - his chair. He steps into the lifeboat. “Sit down, you’re making the place look untidy.” She cracks an eye open and sends him a smile he wishes he could see on her face every day. He obliges, picking her feet up and placing them on his lap.

“So, Professor… What are we doing in this tin can after hours?” He keeps one hand wrapped around her ankles, while the other works on removing her shoes.

“Thinking.” Her toes wiggle in his lap. He smirks at her, grabbing her toes to keep them still. He tugs on them slightly, making her think he’s going to pull her straight off her chair. She knows he won’t, but that doesn’t stop her from tightly gripping the edge of the chair to keep herself in place. His smirk turns into a grin she’s never seen from him before. It’s wide, stretching from ear to ear. He looks happy. Happy looks on good on you.

“About?” He raises his eyebrows at her, hoping to get more than a one word answer from her. She just shrugs this time. “Am I going to get more than shoulder movements and one word answers out of you tonight?”

Again, she shrugs at him, the wide smile creeping onto her face, rivalling his. This happy, playful side of her is something he hasn’t seen in a while. He’s missed this side of her. Before she knows whats happening, he moves her feet to the ground. She looks at him, slighted. Her mouth opens, ready to ask him what’s wrong, but before words can escape, he’s taking her hand and pulling her out the door of the lifeboat. Stood at the top of the steps, he scoops her up bridal style into arms. “Wyatt… What are you doing?”

He sends her a look she can’t quite decipher, as he makes his way down the steps and continues through the bunker until he reaches the room he shares with Rufus. I hope Rufus still is elsewhere…

She’s not quite sure how he does it, but he manages to get the door opened and them both inside without dropping her. It’s when they’re stood just inside the doorway and Rufus clears his throat, that he does drop her to the ground.

“Wyatt and Lucy, sitting in a car trunk, k-i-s-s-i-n-g…” Rufus smirks at the pair, clearly enjoying tormenting the lovebirds stood before him.

Lucy turns and buries herself into Wyatt’s chest, smothering a giggle at Rufus’ words. The first and last time she’d heard that little rhyme directed at her was on the play ground one lunch time in 2nd grade. After the embarrassment she felt that first time, she was careful enough to not put herself in a situation in which it could happen again. Not careful enough it seems.

“What are we, 12?” Wyatt sends him a withering glance that soon shuts him up.

“Yeah… I’m just going to go back to Jiya.” Rufus squeezes past the both of them, muttering something about condoms to Wyatt as he goes. If looks could kill, the glare Wyatt turns and sends to Rufus would have done just that.

When he’s sure his roommate is gone and out of earshot, Wyatt turns to the giggling woman in his arms. “I’m sorry, he was in your room with Jiya a few minutes ago. I thought we’d be safe in here.”

Lucy pulls her face away from him and looks up into his eyes. “It’s okay. At least he interrupted us before and not during-”

“I swear if it happens one more time…” Wyatt growls at her, only causing her to descend into another fit of giggles. Wyatt smiles lovingly down at her. “I’ve never seen you this happy.”

“It’s all your fault.” She sobers up and mockingly glares at him.

“Oh, is that so? How ever will I make it up to you?” He lowers his head, his lips barely brushing hers. “Lucy… Tell me to stop.”

Lucy’s eyes flutter closed and she takes a stuttering breath. “Why would I do that?”

Wyatt sighs and pulls away slightly, bringing his forehead down to meet hers. “We should talk.”

The last thing Lucy wants to do right now is talk, no matter how much she agrees with him. Three times now, they’ve been on the verge of crossing the line. And three times one of their friends has interrupted them. If Lucy didn’t know any better, she’d say they were doing it on purpose. But now they’re alone. They have the chance to cross the line with no interruptions. All she wants to do is grab that chance and never let it go. She opens her mouth to tell him as much, but the words that come out aren’t exactly the ones she expected. “Yeah, you’re right. We should.”

Reluctantly, the two part. For a second they stand awkwardly, just staring at each other. Should they stay standing? Sit down on the same bed? Or on a bed each, like they did before? Wyatt makes the decision for them, when he takes her hand and guides her over to what she assumes is his bed. He toes off his boots, before he sits them down on the edge and pulls her down to lay in front of him. They make quite the sight, with him dressed in blue jeans and a grey t-shirt, and her still dressed in the black cardigan and blue skirt combo from their trip to 1955. They lay with her back to his front, his arms tucked securely around her waist.

Despite both agreeing that they should talk, neither of them say a word for several minutes. Both content to lay there in the silence, basking in the other’s presence. Wyatt briefly brings an arm up from around her waist, so he can brush her hair away from the back of her neck. With the skin there now exposed, he brings his lips down and begins to pepper small, delicate kisses up and down the column of her throat. She turns her head as much as their position will allow, to grant him more access.

Her breathing is slow and deep, his kisses stirring things inside her. Things she hasn’t felt in a long time. “Wyatt… Wyatt, stop.”

He stops abruptly and buries his face in her hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” His words are quiet and muffled, but she just about catches “sorry” and “shouldn’t have”.

“No, Wyatt. Never apologise for that.” She turns in his arms, bringing a hand up to run along his jaw. “But if you start that, I won’t stop you… and you’re right. We should talk before anything happens.”

The laugh he lets out is short and quick. It’s not even a laugh really, more of a quick exhale of breath. “I’m not even sure where to start to be honest.”

“I find the beginning is usually the best place.” She giggles again. It’s something she hasn’t had a chance - or a reason - to do lately, but there’s just… something about him, and about being with him that makes her infinitely happy. It’s an involuntary response when she’s in his presence.

His smile widens and he pulls her closer slightly when he hears her giggling again. “I love that sound, and that look on your face. I wish it could stay there forever.”

She snuggles into him and drops a kiss to the fabric of his t-shirt that rests above his heart. “You only have yourself to thank. It’s because I’m happy. You make me happy.”

“I’ll be sure to thank myself then.” He drops a small kiss to the crown of her head. “You make me happy too.”

“I know we don’t exactly have the most traditional of jobs, so the usual rules don’t apply to us but…” She sighs and shakes her head. “No, forget it.”

Wyatt begins to run his hands up and down her back in comfort. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong.”

She stays silent for several moments. Does this even matter? We’re chasing an evil cult through time. The rules don’t apply to us. “Should we even be doing this? I mean won’t our… feelings��? I don’t know, but won’t they get in the way while we’re on a mission.”

“No more than they already have.” Wyatt sighs, and tightens his hold on her. “Luce… We’re not ready for either of us to say those words, but just know - at least on my part - they couldn’t be more true. I want to be with you. I want to take down Rittenhouse with you, and then… I don’t know what next. I just know that I want to grow old with you.”

She pulls back from him slightly, and beams up at him. Her smile blinding him. Wyatt returns her smile. He can’t remember the last time he felt this happy. Neither are sure who moves first, but at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter. They’re a tangle of limbs and lips, of clashing teeth, and roaming hands. A moan escapes one of them, but if you were to ask them later who it came from, neither could give you a definitive answer. It’s not long before the pair are lacking air and need to draw away from each other. They do so reluctantly, resting their foreheads together and breathing deeply.

Her words are quiet, but Wyatt hears every syllable. He’s pretty sure that the grin they bring back to his face, is going to be there permanently. “I want all that too.”

[somekind0fmagic]

Chapter 5. Speak and You’ll Choke

I do not own Harry Potter or the characters created by Rowling.

I added put z’s instead of s’s to the end of Dominique’s words because, while it’s only been for 4 months, she has been living in France. 1 month was with her aunt and cousins from that side and the other 3 at Beauxbatons and so she has developed a French accent, that’s also why instead of ‘there’ it’s ‘zer’ too

( Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14 )

Chapter 5. Speak And You’ll Choke

Albus awoke very slowly and quietly. The sun was barely coming through his maroon curtains, he yawned and pushed himself off of his bed. He sat on the side of his bed and looked around. He never really had since he got home. The dark red walls and his white desk and bookshelf. He looked over to the alarm clock on his desk, it was 8:30 am. He sighed, knowing his mum was about to come and see if he’s up. He got up and shook his leg, making his pants leg fall down. He walked over to his door and opened it, walking out of his room. He looked around and saw that James’s door was still shut, Lily’s was open and he could hear her talking in there. He walked out and down the stairs to the living room. 

His parents were sitting there, both drinking coffee, quietly talking. “Morning mum and dad.”

They both looked over at him in surprise, “Morning sweetie, how’d you sleep?”

He shrugged, “It was alright. My body is used to getting up early by the way.” He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge to grab a water. He walked back into the living room, “So, I was curious, could I invite or two over?”

“Which friends?”

Albus sighed, he knew his father would ask it, “Scorpius Malfoy and Anneliese Green. You kind of met Anneliese, she was the girl who walked with me to you guys.”

Harry looked wary about it while Ginny was giving her soft, warm, motherly smile. “I have no problem with it as long as your father and their parents.”

Albus looked at Harry and he sighed, “Alright, just let me know what day and if they’ll be staying over.”

Albus smiled widely, “Thank you!” He ran up to his room and grabbed a pen and paper and began to write the two letters. He didn’t understand why they couldn’t just use pens and pencils at Hogwarts, they were so much better and more reliable. 

Scorp,

Hey, it’s Al, I wasn’t killed haha, I asked mum and dad and they said you could come over as long as your parents are okay with it. Just let me know, I hope it’s the same day as L comes over too. To me it would seem weird not having both around. But still, like I said, let me know so I can tell my parents.

Al

He wrote the same to L. He walked downstairs and over to the snowy white owl. “Hey Frost, take these to Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire and Green Manor in Wales.” The owl blinked as an understanding and flew off out the window. Albus watched for as long as he could, that was until he could no longer see the bird.

Albus turned around and walked out of the small room. When he got into the living room he noticed his parents were no longer there. He went into the kitchen and saw his mother over the stove. “Mum, I sent the letters, what’re you making?”

She didn’t turn around and continued to cook, “That’s good that you sent them, your father left for work by the way. And I’m making pancakes.” She sighed, “Could you get your siblings down?”

Albus nodded and left the kitchen. He stopped before he walked up the stairs, he hadn’t really spoken to James. He knew his views on Slytherin House. He knew his views on him. He shook his head and walked up the stairs, stopping at Lily’s room first as it was there. “Lils?” She looked over at him, the phone against her ear. “Mum wants you downstairs. She said she’s making pancakes.” SHe nodded and something about having to go to whoever she was on the phone with. Albus walked to James’s room. His hand was hovering over the door handle. 

Before he could open it the door swung open. The two dark-haired boys stared at each other. No words were spoken. ALbus felt like he would choke if he even tried. James knew that he couldn’t start a fight, unless he wanted to get in trouble. Unlike at Hogwarts where he can get out of it as teachers have faith in him, Ginny didn’t. So he just rammed into Albus’s side, since he was so much bigger than Albus’s lankier self, he fell. He stayed on the floor for a few seconds, but to him, it felt like hours. He shook his head and pushed himself up and walked down the stairs, back to the kitchen.

The kids ate in silence with their mother, Lily was the first to speak, “Mummy, can I get a new backpack? I noticed mine has a hole in it and the left strap keeps breaking.”

“Lily, you could have told me earlier. I’ll get it when I have the time. And Albus, Ron and Hermione will probably want to speak to you tomorrow. I know Hermione has already sent you a letter, but they both still wish to apologize to you.”

Albus shook his head, “But it’s not their fault, Rose was the one who chose to attack me.”

“I know dear, but they feel like it’s their fault as parents for not raising her to not do that.” Albus just nodded and finished eating his food.

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Albus finished packing his bag. He just packed 2 pairs of pants and tops. There was a knock at his door and then he heard the door open. “Your mum wanted me to come up and check on you kids. Seems all of you left your packing to the last minute.”

“Actually, I’m just adding some things. I was already ready to go 30 minutes after I woke up.”

Harry nodded and sat in the chair that went with Albus’s desk. “I never got to ask, do you know when your friends are coming over?”

He nodded, “Is New Years Eve and Day good? L said that her mother told her she could get out of the New Years party if she goes to the Christmas dinner at Malfoy Manor and Scorpius’s mum said that he wasn’t obliged to go to the New Years dinner.”

“I guess those two have hung out already.”

Albus shook his head, “Actually, they haven’t but they both asked their parents when before they left the station to go home.”

“Well, alright.” Albus continued to add things to his bag. When he finished he closed the bag and Harry spoke up. “Listen, everyone is surprised with you being in Slytherin, I have no clue on what has been said when we aren’t there, but just know that your mum and I don’t care, neither do your grandparents, your Aunt Fleur was actually happy and she said something about how maybe you’ll get better fashion.” Harry stopped and laughed at that, Albus joined him in laughing. “Well, we should get going. We’re Flooing this year, your mother doesn’t wish to apparate since we don’t have Teddy to take James.”

The two raven haired, green eyed males walked down the stairs. “Hey dad, I think I might need glasses. It’s been getting harder for me to see almost anything written down anymore.”

“Well, I guess we can get that checked, let’s say, the 2nd?” Albus just nodded, swinging his bag further up on his shoulder.

“Good, I was just about to call for you two. Let’s get going, I don’t want to be reprimanded by mum again for being late. James, you first.” 

James walked over to Ginny and took the floo powder and walked over to the fireplace. He lifted his arm before yelling, “The Burrow!”

When the fire died down Ginny motioned for Lily to go, once she disappeared into the flames Ginny turned to her youngest son, “Albus, I know things are tense with you and some of your family, but please interact with them. Even if it’s just your younger family members, I do not care.”

“Gin-” Harry started but Albus interrupted him, “No, it’s okay and I will mum. Now may I go?” She just nodded and he grabbed the powder from the tiny pot. He noticed the look his dad was giving his mum when he turned around in the fireplace. “The Burrow!” Albus said it loud and clear and immediately felt the green flames engulf him and soon enough he was spinning.

To no surprise, he fell forward when he landed at the Burrow, but he felt someone grab him. “Zer you are!” He was engulfed into a hug, due to the person being around his height he knew it was his cousin Dominique. She pulled away from the hug and he noticed her strawberry blonde hair was longer than the last time he saw her. “How has Hogwatz been? I heard you waz put into Zlytherin.”

He moved out of the way from the fireplace and over to the couch and shrugged, “Alright, I guess. How has Beauxbatons been?”

She smiled softly, “Oh, it iz zo beautiful zer, ze uniformz are very zoft too! Zilk iz what it iz made from.”

“It sounds wonderful.”

“By ze way, I am ‘appy zat you got into Zlytherin, it makez you much more unique.”

“Thanks Dom...hey Dom, when you were told I was in Slytherin, what was your reaction?”

“Oh...well, I zink if I remember correctly, I juz’ zmiled and zaid zometihng about it making you unique.” She moved some of her hair behind her ear, “Why do you azk?”

“I was just curious.” She nodded as an understanding.

“Well well well, if it isn’t mini Harry Potter, except this time he didn’t beg to not be in Slytherin.” Dominique and Albus turned their heads to their Uncle George. “How’re you doing kid? Make any friends?”

“I’m doing good Uncle George and yeah, I’ve made a few, but really only 2 good ones.”

“That’s good kid, good that you have friends who don’t care and good that you’re doing good. How about you miss I-have-decided-to-live-in-France-for-about-9-months-of-the-year-rather-than-in-Scotland-for-that-long?”

Dominique laughed at her Uncle, “Good Uncle George, how about you?”

He smiled widely, “Amazing, business is great, my kids are happy, and my wife still loves me.”

“That’s good Uncle George.”

Albus mostly talked to Dominique through the night, but he found out that his cousins Lucy, Louis, and Roxanne didn’t care that he was a Slytherin, but Hugo was a little iffy about it, but then again, his dad talked the most crap about Slytherins. None of Aunts or Uncles cared either, George made a few jokes about how unlike Harry, Albus didn’t say no to Slytherin. Of course Ron was a little wary about it, but tried not to show it.

Of course everyone who heard her laughed when Molly first saw her grandson and granddaughter. “You two are much too skinny, my god. Albus, you look as small as your father when I first met him. And you Dominique, do they not feed you at that school?!” The two kids just shook their head at their grandmother.

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It was probably midnight, all the other kids were asleep but Albus just couldn’t. He sighed and pushed himself off of the floor, careful not to step on anyone. He stopped right before walking into the kitchen, “--Harry, are you really not worried about Albus? He’s friend’s with a Malfoy and--”

“--Narcissa Malfoy saved me and honestly, is part of the reason we won the war. I get it, you don’t trust them, I have no clue, but you are assuming an 11 year old boy is a bad person just because of his family. And I have trust in my son's judgement of people. And Ronald, if you want to say anything, at least he didn’t attack his cousin for no reason!”

“Harry’s right Ronald, yes, I was a little wary because he’s friends with a Malfoy, and before you say anything Harry, I got no sleep last night because I was working on that paper for the Prophet, that’s why I was being such a bitch this morning. I will apologize as soon as he gets his ass in here.” Albus felt like he stopped breathing, “Albus, c’mon out, I know you’re up.”

He walked in there slowly, his head was down, not wanting to see who all was up and staring at him. “Huh, I thought I was the only one who noticed those things.”

Ginny scoffed at Harry, “No, I can't. I just noticed his eyes were open when I looked out a few minutes ago, then I saw his shadow because my eyes are exactly where it was.” He heard her sigh, “Albus, look at us, your neck is going to hurt if you continue to do that.”

He slowly looked up and saw all the adults in his family were there. “Um...sorry for not being asleep. I couldn’t.”

“It’s alright, I have something you could take if you need it.” Albus looked at his Uncle, “What? Working with dragons you learn that sometimes if you really want to sleep and stay asleep you just need a potion.” Albus nodded and Charlie got up and walked up to his room. 

The silence that fell upon the room was terrifying to Albus, but he didn’t dare utter a word. “Here you are kid, just a quick sip will do. It’s not strong enough to knock you out immediately, takes about 5-10 minutes.”

Albus looked at the bottle, it was filled with a dark purple liquid. He opened the cap and quickly took a fast sip. It tasted like grape juice. He put the cap back on and handed it back to his uncle and walked out and back to his spot on the floor. The effects of the spell hitting him quickly.

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Albus was the last to wake up the next day. It was about 8 when he did. When he walked into the kitchen, he felt a thick tense and awkward atmosphere appear. He took a breath in and walked over to his grandmother and grabbed the plate she was handing him. 

Now at noon, he was playing a game of wizards chess with Lily. “Albus? You have a package and two letters.” Albus looked over to his mother, “Says they're from Scorpius and Anneliese.”

“I’m done, I can’t beat you.” Lily said with defeat ridden in her voice. 

Albus laughed and got up, walking up to his mother, “Thanks mum.” She nodded and handed them to him. He walked back over to the spot where he had been and opened the letter from Scorpius first.

Al,

Yeah, I know I’m seeing you in a few days but I wanted to go ahead and send this. I have no clue what you wanted so I just bought you this. I remembered you saying something about needing a new jacket so I got you one. Hopefully it fits you.

Scorp

Albus turned to the package and opened it. A green silk jacket sat inside. He pulled it out and saw that it was stitched together with grey threading and had ‘Potter 06’ on the back. Since it was Christmas Day he wasn’t wearing the sweater his grandmother made for him, but instead it was a long-sleeved dark blue top. He slipped the jacket on and smiled as it fit him. He moved the box away and looked at Anneliese’s letter.

Hiya Albie,

Heard Scorp say he was getting you a jacket and I sat here in my room trying to figure out what to get you. Then I decided to get you this, it’s called a hematite ring, it’ll help to absorb negative energy and should calm you when you’re stressed or worried. It’s also a very protective stone and is great to carry to help you stay grounded in many situations. I know you get worried and stressed easily so I thought you could use it. It’ll mold to your finger.

L

He looked at the ring and slipped it onto his pointer finger, he watched as it molded to his finger. He smiled, but then stopped when he realized that he hadn’t gotten them anything. He made a mental note to ask his parents if they could go and get them something.

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Albus waited as his mum and dad said their goodbyes to his grandmother and grandfather. He was standing there awkwardly, he had felt like anything he did was awkward since he'd woken up. “Are you ready to go Albus?” Albus broke out of his trance when he heard his mother's voice, “Albus? Are you okay?”

He looked around and saw that his siblings and father had left. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, just spaced out.” Ginny nodded and handed him the floo powder pot. He took some and walked into the fireplace. “Potter Manor!” He felt the green flames engulf him and almost immediately felt himself falling onto the floor. He pushed himself up and off the floor, grumbling to himself. 

He tried to walk up to his room but he heard his fathers voice, “Albus, wait a minute. Your mother and I want to talk to you.” Albus tried not to groan, sometimes he really hated his dad. When Ginny arrived she immediately turned to Harry, telling him to start. “What Ron was saying--”

Albus didn’t even let him finish, “It’s fine, honestly.I know you guys were drinking and we all know Uncle Ron is a lightweight. He probably didn’t mean it. Now I’m going up to my room and going to bed. Goodnight.”

He didn’t even give his parents a chance to say anything. He just ran up to his room, the room that belonged to Sirius Black when he ran away from home. He tossed the bag across the room and fell onto his bed face first. Just wanting to go to sleep, and surprisingly, sleep wanted to take him.