#mom made a comment about me having a kid and I had to scoot upstairs so she wouldn’t see me burst into tears

[sparkmender]

spiritually I am laying on the floor

[squishneedsahero]

A Swing and A Miss

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 9 of 13

Word Count: 2001

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

You and Bruce had been sitting on the couch together when his phone went off, it was a phone call. Who it was from you didn't know, all you knew was that he got up and went to the other room to take it. He doesn't usually do that, but on the rare occasion he does leave the room to take a call you don't mind as it's usually for a good reason.

Bruce walks back into the room, pinching the bridge of his nose, looking done. "I need to go take care of something. I'll be back later."

"What is it?" You try to ask, and aren't surprised when Bruce doesn't answer. "Okay, I'll see you when you get back," you say going up and kissing him gently on the lips. He kisses you back then heads down to the cave.

You don't sit back down, instead going to find something to do, to occupy your mind while Bruce is gone. Something had him upset but until he was ready to talk about it you weren't going to get it out of him, so that meant you got to either worry or keep busy.

Keeping busy was obviously the better option, so, you went and found the kids to sit in the same room as them. There's your two sons, Dick and Tim, your one adopted daughter Cass, plus Stephanie and Barbara who were like daughters to you.

"Hey mom," Dick says, looking up from where he was on his phone next to Babs, "where's dad?"

You shrug slightly, "not sure, he said he needed to take care of something and took off towards the cave."

"Oh, you want me to go check on him?"

"Not yet," you smile at your oldest who was always trying to take care of you, "he just left. I'm pretty sure he just needs to figure it out on his own first then he'll let me know what's going on."

"Alright," Dick concludes the conversation, but you can feel the eyes of the other kids on you.

Cass catches your attention and signs, "you can come sit with us," from her spot on the couch. She then pats the empty seat next to her.

You thank her in ASL with a hand to your chin as you go take a seat next to her. Cassandra was quiet, having an easier time communicating through asl than out loud. It always made you smile on the rare occasion you got her hear her soft little voice, and to know she was comfortable enough to talk to you, but you had learned sign language specifically for her, wanting to make sure she was comfortable all the time.

You gently put an arm around her and kiss the side of her head, then you go to remove your arm, knowing she doesn't always like to be touched. But she stops you from letting go of the hug and leans against you, maybe she just knew that you needed it at the moment to help get your mind off Bruce but either way, she didn't let go so you didn't either.

Stephanie scoots closer to you, taking the other seat next to you and offers you a controller. "We're playing Mario Kart, you want to play a few rounds Mrs.Wayne?"

You laugh gently, "I'm afraid I'm a bit out of practice, all of you would easily kick my ass."

"Come on, pleeeaaaasssee mom," Tim joins in in begging you with his ex, turned best friend.

You laugh and take the controller, "fine I guess I'll try a few rounds."

"Yes!" Dick joins in, cheering you on as Babs gets things set up.

Tim had hotwired the two Wii's so all of you could play together without having to figure out how to do it online. So, the six of you were easily able to start a game and begin racing the many different tracks just having fun together as the kids knowingly distracted you from your worries.

It's a more than a few hours later when Bruce returns home. The kids had all gone down to the cave to get ready for patrol, and you had gone with them. They were about to head out when the roar of an engine cause everyone's attention and Bruce parked the bat mobile and got out, looking stressed and tired.

Dick goes over to him and tells him they're going to head out, and can cover things tonight.

Brice nods and doesn't argue, simply turning to look at you as the kids leave. He doesn't approach you until they've all left and you don't give him a choice but to hug you as you hug him.

"Do you want to change?" You ask, knowing he's obviously upset about something, but willing to be patient while he figures out what it is he needs to tell you.

"Sure, I'll change and we can go sit in our room," he says and kisses the top of your head before turning to get out of the batsuit.

It doesn't take him long to change, and the two of you head upstairs, hand in hand and take a seat on the couch in your bedroom. He just holds you for a while, obviously thinking through what he needs to tell you, and this only causes you more worry.

"Bruce, my love, you know you can tell me anything," you try and reassure him with a kiss on the cheek.

This reassurance works, as he finally speaks up, gently saying, "I have a son, he's 9."

This surprises you, and you don't exactly have a good response, you lean back away from him to look at his face as you quietly ask, "you have a biological son?"

"Yes, I didn't know until today, but he's 9... we've been together 11 years, my love-" this is when he begins to break his normally stoic demeanor.

This is also when you catch on to what he is saying. You had been with him at the time this child was conceived. That hurt. You turned to look away from him, not moving away but taking a moment to think.

There's a few minutes of silence before you speak, "how did it happen?"

You give him a chance to explain and he jumps on it, beginning to tell you what he knows. Starting with the fact that Thalia Al'Ghul was the mother, how she had apparently drugged him in order to have a child with him. His son had been raised by the League of Assassins, taught that he was the one to inherit the mantle of Batman.

It was... a lot. And it hurt to hear, especially due to the fact that you and Bruce had been unable to have a child of your own for many reasons. But, you turn to your husband, the man you were still head over heels for and say as gently as you can, "I'm not sure what I'm feeling right now but it isn't anger."

He looks at you and brushes your hair out of your face, "are you sure you're alright?" He's clearly still worried about his standing with you.

You gently lean to kiss him on the lips, "I'm not sure I'd call it alright, but we will be fine. My husband isn't a cheater, and that would be my biggest worry."

You can see more of the stress and worry leave his face as you speak and he pulls you into a tight hug. "I am so sorry my love. Thank you for giving me a chance to explain-"

You lean back from him once again, taking your hands to cup his cheeks. "Bruce, you didn't know. She drugged you and I trust you enough to know that's the truth. I'm going to need some time to get used to the idea, and figure out exactly how it is I am feeling. But promise me that we will be open and communicate about all of this as we get more information, deal?"

Bruce sighs in relief, "Deal," with that he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you deeply.

It's at this point he informs you that Thalia had sent Damian, their son, to live with Bruce for a time. Damian would be coming the next morning and Bruce hadn't been able to have any say in it, barely able to convince them to wait long enough for him to talk to you first. It was yet another thing you could only describe as a lot but this was life, you had to roll with the punches or you'd never be able to move forward.

Two days later you still had yet to meet Damian. You were ninety-five percent sure it was because the boy was avoiding you. You sat eating breakfast and contemplating this when you hear someone behind you say, "Tt, you must be my father's harlot."

You raise your eyebrow and turn around to face the boy, "Harlot?"

"That is what my mother calls you," Damian says looking at you disgustedly.

You are so exhausted by this entire situation that the sass just slips out of you and you laugh. "I mean, that's one way to go about saying she's jealous of me because I have a ring and she doesn't."

Damian is clearly surprised by the fact that you just laughed off him calling you a harlot. He, "tt,"s again and just walks right back out of the kitchen, unwilling to admit you had surprised him.

You watch him leave, and he passes Bruce as he does. Once Damian is gone you shake your head and go back to your breakfast.

"I see you've met Damian," Bruce comments.

You offer him a slight smirk and a shake of your head, "yep, finally showed himself just to call me a harlot."

"A har-" Bruce starts, clearly outraged by the fact that anyone would dare call his beloved wife a harlot.

"Yeah," you laugh again, "he left just as fast because I laughed at the thought."

Bruce sighs, relaxing with how you had taken it, he takes a seat next to you and wraps you in a hug. "I'm glad that you didn't let him get to you."

"Yeah, though as far as introductions go, I think he's going to take some getting used too."

"Yeah, he's quite the character after being raised by the LoA."

You smile and lean against Bruce as you finish your food, "yeah, but eventually he'll have to figure out I'm just as stubborn as him for having put up with your shit for this long," you tease and he laughs.

It's a few hours later the next time you see Damian and he tries to insult you in yet another way, "you're weak, and would never be able to take anyone down. You aren't worthy of father."

This one is creative, you'll admit that but you shake your head. "I never claimed to be a fighter, if you'd stuck around earlier I could have told you that. Though, the first time I met your 'father," you say mocking his tone, "I kicked a green haired clown in the head so that has to count for something."

Damian once again just leaves, you weren't supposed to take these things so well, you were supposed to run off crying, not agree with him.

This goes on for a while, him trying to insult you and you just not having it. It goes on until he stops, knowing he'd have to find some other way to get under your skin. Meanwhile you try to get to the bottom of his behavior. Why does he feel like he needs to put you down in comparison to his mother and how can you show him he can trust you enough to not have to do that to keep a place in this family? It might take a while but you'd sure as hell figure it out.

[definitelyseven]

rebel (m)

summary: when you discover your whole life has been a lie, you go on a rebellious rampage including fooling around with your adopted brother

optional bias x reader 

one (m) | two (m) | three (m) |

“Yes Mom, I know.” he replied unhappily as his mom nagged him on the other line. “Yes, I’ll look after her for the next two weeks.” he turns to glare at you. He couldn’t believe you ran away from home and followed him and his friends across the world to Seoul. “You are in big trouble,” he says to you as he hung up the phone.

You rolled your eyes at him, “What is it big brother? Can’t handle your little sister misbehaving?” 

“I know you’re upset, but we did what we thought was right!” he explained.

“My whole life has been a lie! How could that possibly be right?” you shouted at him.

“It was difficult to explain at the time. You were a baby!” 

“Bull fucking shit! You don’t get to tell me what they did was right! I spent my whole life thinking you were my biological brother; they were my biological parents! Do you know how I felt? Do you-,” you paused, sighing. “I have a right to be mad!” you continued to shout. 

“I know, I know. You can be mad, be upset, but you can’t runaway without telling our parents,” he said calmly as he reached for your shoulders. “They’re worried about you. Everyone is worried about you.”

“And? How did they think I was going to respond?” 

“Okay fine! Punish us for lying to you! Punish me!” he said angrily before walking away from you. 

“Guys calm down!” Jackson comforted. “I know you’re both upset, but we’re here in Seoul. Let’s have fun and be happy,” he begged. 

You were still pissed at he and your parents, but Jackson was right. You flew all the way to Seoul to get away from your family. You had two weeks of freedom; two weeks to do whatever the hell you wanted. 

Your parents have never treated you differently from him or your other brother, never even hinted that you were different from them so it was hard for you to believe that you were adopted. You thought it was some kind of sick joke. 

You were always especially close to him. Ever since you were old enough to walk, you followed him around everywhere he went. Out of all the brothers and sisters you had, you were the closest with him. He protected you when kids at school were mean to you and fought all the boys that broke your heart. You loved him. 

The reason why you were so mad was because at some point in your life you realized your love for him was different from the love you felt for your other siblings. You hated seeing him with other girls and you hated all the girlfriends he ever brought home. The sick part was you started having dreams about him fucking you. You felt gross for thinking about your older brother like that. You thought you were sick and even tried to hurt yourself thinking that would solve your problem. This was why you were so mad because he knew. He knew you were not his biological sister and he didn’t tell you. 

“You are not wearing that out tonight,” he tells you as he scans your outfit. You rolled your eyes and sat down on the stool by the kitchen island. “I’m fucking serious, Y/N!”

“Make me,” you tell him. 

“Your boobs are falling out of your dress. I can see your ass!” he complained. 

“I’m not changing my outfit because of you. I didn’t spend 2 fucking hours looking this hot for nothing,” you retorted as you turned your back to him. 

The first part of the revenge was running away from home. The second part was ruining his vacation. 

You and his friends were pretty drunk at the club already. He watched you like a hawk as he simultaneously chugged down tequila shots. This made rebelling 10 times more fun. 

“Dance with me,” you whispered in your brother’s friend’s ear before pulling him onto the dance floor. You didn’t even give him the chance to object.

“Uh...Y/N,” he said in shock as you grind your hips against his crotch. You guided his arms to your waist as you rolled your hips backward. “Y/N, I don’t think your brother would like this,” he stutters. He says he doesn’t want to but his body says something else. His grip on your waist was tighter, rolling his hips in sync with yours. 

“Shh...don’t talk, just dance,” you moaned lightly. You felt his member poke against your ass. You could feel how hard he was. Your hands reached back, tangling your fingers in his hair. He always had hot friends; not one bad looking one. You ran your tongue against your teeth as you guided his hand across your chest.

“Fuck you’re so hot,” he blurts out as he squeezes your boobs. His hands trace up your thigh and up your skirt, inching closer and closer to your panties. 

“Not here,” you whispered, turning around to face him. You leaned in close to his lips, teasing him without actually kissing him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to yourself until there was no space left.

“What the fuck?!” you hear your brother shout, pulling you off his friend.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you complained as he dragged you outside the club. “Let go of me!” 

“Stop trying to sleep with my friends to get back at me!” he yelled as he forces you inside the cab. You scoffed, crossing your arms bitterly. 

You stormed out of the cab and ran back upstairs to the hotel suite. He quickly followed behind. The hotel suite wasn’t big; everyone had to share a room, and since you decided to tag along, the boys offered a room for you and your brother to share. You walked into your shared room and slammed it right behind you, not letting him in. 

“Y/N!” he shouts angrily. “Don’t fucking ignore me!” he continues to scream, entering your shared room. “You cannot sleep with my friends, Y/N!”

“I am about to get changed. Leave!” you demanded as you searched for your shirt. He rolls his eyes and walks over to your luggage to grab you an oversized t-shirt. He tosses it to you roughly. “I swear to God. Loosen up. They’re your friends. They’re not bad people.” 

“You done?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m decent.” he turns around to look at you, still pissed. 

“I know they’re not bad people, but I’d appreciate if you’d respect me enough not to fuck my friends. He had his hands up your skirt!” 

You rolled your eyes at him as you got into bed, “Would you prefer if I fucked a random stranger?”

“That’s not fucking funny!” he said changing into his pajamas. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say! Your friend is hot!” you confessed. 

“Funny how you were never interested in them until now,” he joked, sliding into bed with you. “You can’t go around fucking just anybody to get back at me,” he points out. “Y/N,” he calls for your attention. 

You turned to face him, “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Good girl,” he smiled, stroking your hair. He wraps his arms around you, pulling your body close to his. He leans down to give your forehead a kiss. “Go to bed, you drunk ass.”

All that alcohol should have helped you fallen asleep quickly, but it didn’t. You were horny and it didn’t help that he was right next to you. It wasn’t unusual for you and your brother to share the same bed. The both of you actually did it quite often which made it that much harder for you.

You tried to minimize your movements, afraid that it would be obvious to him about what you were thinking, what you were actually doing under the sheets. You had your back to him as you squeezed your thighs together for some friction. “Y/N, stop moving,” he whispered, holding your waist in place with his hand. His grip was hard which made you even more wet. You felt dirty, but you couldn’t stop. You scoot yourself backwards, closer to his chest. Your ass was pressed against his member and you could feel it slightly poke at you. You were sure he was turned on, so you moved your hips against his crotch slowly to test his reaction. “Y/N...” he let out, pulling your lower body close to his. He began moving his hips in sync with yours. You reached for his hands that was caressing your lower abdomen. You interlocked your fingers with his as you continued to grind against him. 

You could feel his dick harden against your ass. “Fuck...” you moaned, biting your lips. 

“This is wrong,” he whispered in your ear. It was, but you didn’t care anymore. You wanted this. You let go of his hand and reached under your shirt, removing your soaked panties. “Fuck...” he whispered again, seeing you remove your panties. He grazes his tongue against your ear, gently nibbling on your earlobe. 

“T-touch me...” you begged, slightly turning around to face him. In the corner of your eyes, you see him reach inside his pants, stroking his cock. “Touch me,” you begged again. He positions himself to your core. He brushes his tip up and down your entrance, barely pushing it in to tease you. You let out a soft moan. 

“Let me hear you baby,” he whispered in your ear. Fuck, that was much hotter than you had ever imagined. He reaches for your leg, lifting it up to spread them apart. He traces his fingers across your clit, slightly teasing it. 

“Fuck, please touch me...” you begged for the third time. 

“God, hearing you beg for me makes me so hard.” he enters his hard cock slowly into you. You’ve been waiting all these years for this moment. It felt ten thousand times better than you had ever imagine. You let out a loud moan, feeling your walls wrap around his thick cock. His pace quickened once he was balls deep into you. “You’re so wet baby,” he comments, rubbing your clit in circular motions. 

“Harder,” you tell him. “I want you to fuck me till I can’t walk.”

“Hmmm...” he hummed. “Dirty girl,” he hissed in your ears. Each thrust became rougher and harder as you continued to moan his name. You could feel the pit in your stomach grow. 

“Let me ride you,” you moaned, pushing him off you. You got on your knees as he laid on his back. His elbows propping him up to look at you with lust in his eyes. You smirked and removed your shirt in front of him. The first time being completely naked in front of your brother. You straddled him and gently lowered yourself onto him. He lets out a loud moan once you reached the base of his cock. 

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he groans, thrusting his hips and launching you forward. You held onto the headboard for support. “I can slip right into you cause you’re so wet,” he moans again, holding onto your ass and guiding your hips up and down his thick cock. You bounced on him roughly, feeling the tip of his cock hit your g-spot each time, and making you moan louder and louder. He sits up slightly and thrusts his hips in sync with you. He grabs your face, pulling your lips down to meet his and quickly shoving his tongue in your mouth. The pit in your stomach begins to grow as you grind your hips harder against his. Your clit rubbing against his pubic area, moaning at the overstimulation. “You like that baby,” he coos. “You like it when I fuck your tight little pussy,” he groans, tugging your hair.

“Y-yes,” you moaned, throwing your head back. “Fuck me harder,” you begged out of breath. 

“Get on all fours,” he demanded. You quickly get off him and got on all fours, sticking your ass up for him. He roughly forces himself inside you, pushing your head down into the pillow. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamnt of taking you on all fours? How many times I’ve dreamnt of you sucking me off?” You let out a stuttered moan, feeling a pleasurable pain in your pussy. All this time, he thought about fucking you too. The sound of your skin slapping against each other made your heart race. You stuck your ass further up, spreading your legs further apart for him to pound you harder. He reaches for your clit, simultaneously rubbing it as he thrust himself into you.  

“I’m close,” you moaned, biting onto the pillow. 

“Hold it in for me as long as you can baby,” he groans, rubbing your back. 

“I can’t,” you complained. You clenched your pussy around his cock trying to hold in your orgasm. 

“Shit...” he moans. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” he asked rhetorically. He lifts you up to your knees as he continues to drill behind you, all while he pinches your nipples and sucks on your neck. The pleasure from his cock pounding your sensitive pussy, his hand rubbing your clit and pinching your nipples drove you over the edge. You began to shake in his arms as you feel a wave of pleasure hit you. You threw your head back against his shoulder and moaned loudly. “Cum with me.” You came with him once you felt his hot seed paint your walls. It made you feel warm inside. 

The both of you were left breathless. He slowly slips out of you, his seed dripping down your naked thighs. You dropped onto the bed, legs still shaking from your orgasm. 

The both of you locked eyes. 

Within a split second of looking at you, his expression changes. He looked scared, like he regretted what he had just done. He quickly gets up off the bed and puts his pants back on. He doesn’t say anything to you, but walks outside your shared room.

Your brother sees his friend in the kitchen. “Hey, listen. I’m sorry for dancing with your sister.”

He takes a sip of his water and responds, “Don’t worry about it.”

[rinkunokoisuru]

I don’t normally write fan fics, not to mention actually share them, so I’m super nervous, but whatever, here we go This is based on the comic by @horrendoushag because I saw @lexosaurus‘s tags. Also some inspiration from some other fics seeing as I’ve read a lot of them.

Danny paused his game of Doomed and slid his over-sized set of headphones to his neck with a sigh at the knock on the door. He wasn't expecting Sam or Tucker to come over, and he knew that Jazz was at the library working on her thesis, so that really only left one or both of his parents as the one responsible. He swung his chair slightly towards the door as the knocking continued. "Yeah?" Danny called, voice raised. "Danny, can we come in? We need to talk with you." As suspected, it was his parents. Yes he'd forgotten to clean the lab again, and yes he'd only barely passed most of his classes, but this wasn't anything new for him. Besides, classes had only just ended for the semester, so it was unlikely that that was what they wanted to talk about since report cards hadn't even been sent home yet. Mentally preparing himself, he decided that he'd just have to let them come in and talk his way out of whatever it was they had to say or just accept the in-coming grounding. "Uh. Yeah, I guess." His mother opened the door and stepped to the side to allow his father space to enter the room.

"So what did you want to talk about?" Danny asked nervously. Maddie's lips were pulled tight and if the hood of her hazmat suit had been pulled back, Danny was sure the fire in her eyes would have been enough to make him shrink even further into his seat. Glancing towards his dad's more expressive face in hopes that he had just misinterpreted, Danny could see that he was just upset as his mother, though with a hint of confusion mixed in as well. "Would you care to explain this, young man?" She held up her phone for Danny to see the screen. From where he was sitting, he couldn't really see what the fuss was about. "It's, uh, twitter?" he shrugged before crossing his arms. "Danny-boy," his father stated sternly. "Alright, alright. Let me see," he grabbed for the phone. As he browsed through what his mother had passed to him, Danny felt his stomach flop in a mix of fear and embarrassment. "Well, Danny?" she tapped her foot impatiently. "What's all this about you dating that menace, Phantom?" Danny winced and sunk further into his chair. He never expected his parents would go on twitter in the first place, let alone find his profile. Phantom had had his own twitter profile for only a week before he'd been assaulted by people claiming ghosts weren't real, that they were his biggest fans, that he was scum that needed to be eradicated, people asking if he would date them, and other uncomfortable comments. Danny had learned to either ignore them or play along and quickly became known for his shitposts. The fact that he was dating himself had started as just a joke with Sam and Tucker to try to aggravate Wes, it had been inconceivable at the time that his parents would ever find those tweets. Yet here they were. "I can explain?" He could not explain. "Well let's hear it then, Danny," his mom replied, raising an eyebrow. The impatient foot tapping continued as he stared at the bedroom floor. He brought his hand up to rub at his neck, a nervous habit of his, as he wracked his brain for an excuse. The uncomfortable silence dragged on for what felt like hours to Danny, though was only about a minute before his dad broke it. "Danny," Jack soothed, placing his sizable hand on his son's significantly smaller shoulder, "we understand that you're getting older and starting to make a lot of your own decisions, but your mother and I are worried about you. It just isn't safe to spend so much time around such a dangerous ghost." "Phantom isn't dangerous." "I know Phantom is very popular with kids your age, but he is dangerous. He pretends to protect the town, but who knows what he could do if he decided to stop faking it," Maddie added. Danny jerked away from his father's hold and jumped out of his chair, only barely able to stop his eyes from glowing an unnatural ectoplasmic green. "No! Jazz and I keep telling you! Phantom doesn't pose a threat to humans." Jack narrowed his eyes with skepticism, and Danny was sure his mother was doing the same beneath her goggles. Letting out an exasperated huff, Danny continued, "You guys are too caught up in your 'research' to even consider that a ghost could be good. When was the last time you even talked with a ghost?" "Danny..." his mother started. Both of his parents had heard this same argument from Jazz plenty of times by now. "No, listen. You never listen. Phantom isn't going to hurt me!" "You can't know that." "Yes! I can!" "And how is that!" Maddie's lips impossibly pressed even thinner, her whole stance becoming more aggressive. "Because I'm Phantom!" His parents seemed to deflate at this outburst. As soon as he realized what he'd said, his hands flew to his mouth and he allowed the cold rush of invisibility to run over him. ---- It had been two weeks now since Danny had accidentally revealed to his parents that he and Phantom were one and the same. While the experience had been less than pleasant at the time, in hindsight it had been a pretty stupid way for his secret alter ego to come out. Jazz had come home not long after the confrontation. When she found out what had happened, she had some words of her own and stormed out to find Danny. As soon he returned safely, the whole family sat down to have a civil discussion about the news that Danny had been half ghost for almost two full years before they found out. To Danny's relief, his parent's had instantly accepted him, though that didn't stop them from feeling like they were at fault for what happened to him. Most of those two weeks since the outburst had been spent assuring his parents he was okay and that he didn't blame them. In fact he liked being part ghost. All things considered, things went much better than he thought they ever would have. Though that didn't stop things from being a little awkward when it came to Danny using his powers. ---- Danny and his friends slid into their usual booth at the Nasty Burger, Sam making sure to sit as far from the trays with meat as she could lest her stomach turn at the smell. Tucker lifted his Nasty burger and took a large whiff before shoving it into his mouth. "Sho how are your parentsh adjushting to you being Phantom?" "Please swallow your food before talking, Tucker," Sam rolled her eyes. Danny picked up one of his french fries and mindlessly dipped it into his ketchup. "I think they're doing alright. I'm still kind of hesitant to transform in front of them though." "I understand that. You basically lied to them for the past two years. It's going to take time for them to be completely comfortable with your ghost half," Sam said, picking at her slightly wilted salad. "Ugh, you sound like Jazz," Danny groaned, tossing his uneaten fry back onto the tray. "I know it's going to take time for them to get used to it." "They did say they want to support you, dude," Tucker gulped down the rest of the greasy burger. "Maybe you just need to expose them to a little more of your ghostly side," he wiggled his fingers for emphasis before pilfering some of Danny's fries, "Just use your powers around the house more often, man. Think of all the things you can do without worrying about getting caught now!" Danny glared briefly at the fry thief before turning back to his food with a sigh. "Maybe you have a point, Tuck." "Of course I do." "Maybe talk to Jazz about this plan first, just in case." "Better point," Danny replied before smacking Tucker's wandering hand away from his food once again. "Ouch! You weren't even eating those!" "They're still my fries." For the rest of their lunch, the group of teens mostly chatted about what movies they were looking forward to, which ghosts had been most annoying lately, and what other plans they had for their summer vacation. Eventually though, the trio had to go their separate ways. Sam's mother had plans to drag her daughter to some sort of benefit for the umpteenth time and Tucker had promised a group of his online friends that he'd help them out in some new game they were playing, so Danny waved goodbye and headed home by himself. It wasn't long before he'd arrived at his own doorstep and made his way upstairs. Danny considered dropping into bed and taking a nap before some ghost inevitably dropped in, but found himself wandering over to Jazz's room instead. Seeing the door was ajar, he quietly rapped on the door frame until his sister looked up from whatever she was working on. "What's up, Danny?" Jazz asked, a small smile on her face as she scooted her chair away from her desk so she could look at her brother while they spoke. He shuffled into the room and leaned against the wall. It took hardly any time for Danny to explain what he had discussed with Sam and Tucker, leaving Jazz looking pensive. "It actually seems like a pretty good idea to me," she finally said. "I think it might be good for all three of you. Especially since Mom and Dad aren't trying to shoot you anymore," she smirked. Danny let go of the tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Thanks, Jazz." "No problem, little brother," she smiled gently. Danny sent back a small smile of his own and left the room, allowing Jazz to return to her work. --- "Danny?" "Yeah, Mom?" he called from the living room. "Can you help me with dinner, sweetie?" Rather than gather the energy to stand from his relaxed position on the couch, Danny tucked his phone into his pocket and allowed the cold feeling at his core to overtake him. There was a bright flash of light and suddenly where there had sat the blue-eyed, black-haired Fenton, was instead the blindingly bright white hair and toxic green eyes of his Phantom form. Now was as good a time as any to start using his powers around his parents more often. He let the weightlessness that came more naturally in his ghost form take over and lazily floated into the kitchen. "What did you need help with?" his voice echoed ominously. His mother jolted in surprise before once again composing herself. "I was just hoping you could reheat the leftover mashed potatoes to go with dinner," she started hesitantly. "I'm not interrupting a fight with a ghost, am I?" "Hm? Nah," he replied.    "A-alright then." Danny hovered on over to the refrigerator and stuck the entire front half of his body inside. He soon emerged with the cold bowl of potatoes and popped them into the microwave. At least they were less likely to come to life since they'd only been in there a day or so. Maddie watched her son flit about the kitchen like this was the most normal thing in the world. She absent-mindedly cleaned up the mess from preparing the night's meatloaf and supposed that for Danny, it probably was the norm. If he'd been half-ghost for nearly two years, then it would be sillier to expect him not to use his powers from time to time. "So how long until the meatloaf is done?" Danny questioned. The microwave was still running, but rather than continue to float in various places around the room, he had instead elected to change back into his human form and play around on his phone. "Just a few more minutes." "Awesome." They settled into a comfortable silence, Danny tapping away at a game on his phone and Maddie putting the finishing touches on the sides for their dinner. The quiet was only interrupted when the shrieking of the microwave alerted them that the potatoes were hopefully done reheating. "Danny, go get your father for dinner," Maddie said as she went to take the meatloaf out of the oven. "Okay," Danny replied without even looking up from his phone. In an instant, Danny Fenton had once again been replaced by Danny Phantom. Maddie stared in wide-eyed confusion as her son bent down onto the kitchen floor and stuck his head into the basement below. Jack happened to be looking up at the clock when he saw a shock of glowing, white hair sink through the ceiling. He felt his jaw drop as his the rest of Danny's head followed. There was a moment where they stared at each other, neither saying anything. "Dinner's ready," Danny finally relayed. Jack managed to shake himself out of his stupor. "Great! Thanks, Danny-boy!" The ghostly head of his son retreated back through the ceiling. It was going to be a while before Jack and Maddie could be completely comfortable around their son in ghost form, but at least Danny got to be a little shit in the process.

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

Waiting Game

Many, many thanks to @thebarkeepwrites for being my personal cheerleader these last few weeks. You have been absolutely amazing as I've been in my slump. I'm dedicating this to you for being amazing!

Warning: hospitals, car wreck, and car accident

Seven days. It had been seven days since he heard his voice. Seven days of silence, not that it wasn't out of the ordinary. But he was used to him pipping up every now and then to add a sarcastic comment to whatever Race was talking about.

Throwing his head back against the chair, he sighed loudly, just wanting Spot to wake up, or at least move.

This whole thing started with a trip to the grocery store. They were cooking and there were two ingredients that they thought they had but didn’t. Spot offered to run to the store to grab them. He got to the store, safe and sound. However, as he left the store that’s when the nightmare started.

From what Race gathered from the police, Spot was pulling out of the parking lot when he was t-boned, directly impacting his side of the car. He was rushed to the hospital, where he had been unconscious for the last seven days, Race by his side the entire time.

A knock on the door drew his attention from Spot. Sighing, he lifted his head from the bed, eyes widening when he saw who was standing there. “Hey.”

In any other circumstance, Race would have laughed loudly at how awkward Jack Kelly looked standing in the middle of the door. Katherine stood behind her husband, nudging him into the doorway, before she breezed past him, wrapping Race into a hug. “How is he?”

“The doctors are hopeful that he will wake up soon. It’s just a waiting game for him to open up his eyes.” Race stepped back from the hug as he was pulled into a hug by Jack. “You guys didn’t have to come up here.”

Jack patted his back a couple of times. “Wild horses wouldn’t keep us away. How are you holding up?”

“Uhhh . . .” Race reached up and scratched the back of his neck, sighing. “I just want him to wake up. It’s been too quiet with him just laying there.”

Kat chuckled. “Spot wasn’t the most talkative person to begin with. He’s always quiet unless you get him going with whatever nonsense.”

“It's just too quiet in this room.” Race chuckled, dryly.

Katherine skirted around them to take a seat at the bedside, reaching over and picking up Spot’s hand, giving it a squeeze. She talked quietly to him as Jack gave Race a hard look. “Have you left this place at all?”

Shaking his head, he sat in a chair, giving Jack a look. “If it was Kat in that bed, would you leave?”

“Nah, you’d be dragging me from this room, much like I’m about to do.” Jack gave his best friend a look. “Come on, let’s go to the cafe.”

Race hesitated, looking at Spot and Katherine. “I, ugh . . .”

“Kat will be here the entire time. She’s not going to leave his side until we’re back.” Jack promised, clasping a hand on Race’s shoulder, gently leading him from the room.

The two walked silently down the hallway, the only sound they heard was the squeaking of their shoes on the linoleum floor. The two joined others in the elevator, taking them to the main floor. Jack guided Race along until they found the cafeteria. Jack pushed Race into a chair, leaving him to grab some food for him to eat.

Soon, Jack returned with a tray full of Race’s favorites. “Half of that needs to be finished before we go back upstairs.”

Without another word, Race started tucking into the food. Jack kept up a steady stream of one-sided conversation. Pushing the tray away, Race sat back in the chair, taking a long sip of Coke, raising an eyebrow at Jack. “Is that okay, mom?”

“Yeah that’s okay. Do you want me to pack some of this up for you later?” Jack asked, quietly.

Shaking his head, Race stumbled to his feet. “Can we go back upstairs?”

Nodding, Jack got to his feet, grabbing the tray as the two headed out of the cafe. Jack threw the food away before following Race back upstairs. Once back in the room, he threw himself into the chair opposite of Katherine with a sigh. Leaning forward, he laced his hands with Spot’s, giving both Katherine and Jack a look. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. I’m sure Spot will share his appreciation when he wakes up, whenever that may be.”

“Anything for you two.” Katherine smiled at him from the other side of the bed. “Do you need anything?”

Shaking his head, he sighed. “Just for him to wake up.”

Without another word, Katherine got up from her spot, walked around the bed, leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Please let us know if you need anything and when he wakes up.”

“Absolutely.” Race smiled. “Thank you for sitting with him while I got something to eat.”

She squeezed his shoulder before leaving the room with Jack in tow. Leaning forward, he placed his head on the bed as he gently squeezed Spot’s hand. “You’ve got to let me know that you’re still here. I miss you Spottie.”

Sighing loudly, Race’s hand smacked the bed with a groan. He didn’t want to think of a life without Spot by his side. They had been married for only three months, just moved into their first home together, and just started living their life together. Though they had been together for over four years, Race felt like everything was finally falling into place for them.

“We talked about starting our lives, Spottie. Kids, vacations, memories being made.” Race whispered. “You can’t leave me, Sean. It’s too damn soon. I’m supposed to have 60 plus more years with you, not just the four we’ve had already.”

Race’s eyes shifted to his still husband. Giving his fingers a squeeze, he brought them to his lips and kissed them. “I love you, Spottie. Dammit, you can’t leave me.”

Laying his head on the bed, he was soothed by the constant beeping of the heart monitor, letting it lure him to sleep.

Hours later

A moan dragged him from the deep sleep he was in. He blinked, trying to remember where he was. Blinking his eyes slowly, he recognized the hospital room he had spent the last seven days in. Sitting up, he stretched his arms and back before looking up at the bed. A small smile crossed his face. “Welcome back.”

“I’m not dead.” came the croaked voice as a bright smile crossed Race’s face.

Squeezing Spot’s hand, Race was on his feet, leaning over and pulling Spot into a long kiss. Spot moaned at the kiss but pulled back seconds later. “Racer, you’re going to kill me.”

“Not for a long, long time.” Race promised, leaning over and gently kissing him. “You scared me.”

Spot sighed, giving him a look as he reached for the controller to adjust his bed. “Can you call the nurse?”

Race nodded, pushing the button, looking Spot over. “Do you remember anything that happened?”

Spot was quiet as he played with the ring on Race’s hand. “I remember leaving the store, the bag of groceries in the backseat of the car. Anything else is all a blurry mess.”

Race was unable to say anything as a nurse came into the room to check Spot over. Several questions were asked, all of which Spot could answer. She adjusted his meds before promising that the doctor would be shortly, leaving the room a few seconds later.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Spot asked as the door shut behind the nurse. “Did I cause the accident?”

Race immediately shook his head. “No, no Spot. You didn’t cause an accident. Someone ran into your car. You’ve been in the hospital for the last seven days.”

“I didn’t cause the accident?” Spot’s voice was small, fear creeping into his voice.

Race looked at Spot, locking eyes with him. “Sean Patrick Conlon, I promise you that you didn’t cause this accident. You were the victim in this.”

“Ok. So what are the damages?” Spot looked at the cast on his foot and winced at the pain in his chest.

Race leaned over and kissed him. “Broken foot, couple of bruised ribs, and a concussion. From what I’ve heard, you’ll be here a few more days then released.”

“I hurt.” Spot pouted, giving Race a look.

Race bit his lip. “I’m sorry about that. Do you want me to get the nurse to increase your meds?”

“No, but will you cuddle with me?” Spot put on the puppy dog eyes as he attempted to scoot over on the bed.

Race gently got on the bed, as Spot laid his head on Race’s chest. Instinctively, Race’s hand started running through Spot’s hair as they both relaxed. Race thanking whoever heard his prayers that Spot was going to be okay. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, Race sighed, relaxed as he felt Spot’s breath on his chest as he drifted off to sleep.

Thank you for reading. Please let me know your thoughts about this!

[binniedeactivated]

saint. || soobin (3.8)

pairing: soobin x reader genre: au word count; 2k

he wished he could’ve walked into that station and looked like a man that day. but that plan immediately failed. his eyes were wet and puffy he could barely speak because he was crying way too hard for his conscience. his vision was slurred and he choked on every word that sputtered from his lips. he places his hands on the desk, sobbing. 

“just arrest me please”. soobin cries. the woman at the front desk was immediately alarmed at his plea. 

“sir is there something I can help you with?”. she says very concerned with the state that he was in.

“the mia howard case--it was me just arrest me I did it”.

with the familiar name the administrator made a quick call to the officers who were dealing on the case. “someone will be here to talk to you in a moment sir”. she promises hoping he’d get the help he needed. a couple of moments later a female officer appears, guiding soobin to a chair behind her desk. 

“what seems to be the problem?”. she says with a furrowing eyebrow. 

soobin palms his face, sobbing into his hands. “just arrest me I was the one who set up mia howard that night”. 

“you’re choi soobin?”. 

soobin nods becoming choked up once again. the officer grabs him a few tissues, “i’m sorry but I can’t help you with that, kid”. 

“what do you m-mean you can’t help me? I’m a horrible person I deserve to be arrested”. 

“mia howard is not pressing charges against you. she didn’t identify you. the case is closed and unavailable for reopening”. 

“s-so what happens next? e-everyone involved is walking away scott free?”. 

the officer shakes her head, “the guys who raped her is still facing time for home invasion and rape”. 

“what about me?”. 

“if the victim is not pressing charges we close the case. after that, there is nothing we can do”. 

“fuck”. 

“hey, regardless of what you claimed you’ve done soobin, you don’t have any charges on your record. i recommend you use this time to turn your life around for the better”. 

she assuringly pats him on the back. soobin sniffles as he stands up in his chair nodding before she guided him out the door. soobin makes a detour on his way home, deciding to go somewhere else instead. he pulled into the driveway of the familiar house and knocked on the door promptly. it opened. 

“hey, who are you?”. 

“are you mia’s mom?”. soobin had asked. she folded her cardigan over. 

“yes who are you?”. 

“I’m choi soobin, someone she goes to school with”,

“listen if this is anymore traumatizing to mia’s health just drop it, please. these officers and all of this questioning is giving her severe anxiety attacks and I just don’t want anymore of it”. 

soobin purses his lips, “I’d like to offer to pay for any medical bills she has”. 

“that’s sweet of you soobin but I can’t let you do that. you’re just a kid and those bills are way too high”. 

“if theres anything I can do to pay mia back for this trauma it’s at least this. I’ll cover all of her medical fees and it won’t leave a dent in my pockets, trust me I can pay them. and if it’s okay my parents know some really good psychiatrists and I’d like to enroll mia into their sessions. I don’t care how long she goes, weeks, months, or even for the rest of her life I’ll pay for it. If there is any medicine she needs I will go out of my way to make sure she gets it”. 

her mother stares at him in awe. she was taken aback by all of this. of course she wasn’t pleased with the fact that soobin had done this to her daughter but she appreciated his efforts to fix it. 

“are you sure?”. 

“yes. I have a checkbook in my car and I’ll talk to my parents tonight for the information about the sessions and enroll mia as soon as possible”. 

her mother hugged him gratefully. the medical bills were eating her alive and she just wanted mia to get better. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

his chest ached badly and to make matters worse he was puking from his occasional crying. he was alone. and he hated it. he missed you--god he wished you just give him another chance. he didn’t mean it. but it hurt even more when you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with him. you blocked his phone number and profile on every possible thing he could contact you on. 

“are you puking? what are you pregnant?”. yeonjun insults while he shuts the door behind him. soobin exhales and rubs his face in front of the toilet bowl in the school bathroom. the school was the meeting place for everyone before they took a coach bus to the ski resort. 

“shut the fuck up yeonjun”. 

“we’re about to leave. I shouldn’t even have told you I should’ve let them leave your ass here”.

soobin exhales before coming out of the bathroom stall with a giant hoodie and a hood over his head. “you really have to get a grip”. yeonjun comments. soobin rolls his eyes and exits the bathroom with him. the two grabbed their suitcases and began boarding the bus. the sisters were going over the rules and his heart only wrenched. not only was he sitting alone due to yeonjun finding someone else to sit with. soobin glanced over at you sitting with taehyun. the two of you just talking casually, something he wished he could do with you. he didn’t want to come. he knew he should’ve stayed home but he only attended because you were here.

“I wonder what the cabins look like”. you mutter along the way. 

“I heard they were luxury cabins, like the furnished ones with wifi and all that”. taehyun replies.

“that’s a relief”. 

“did you think we were going to be in a hut or something? it’s cold out there”. 

you laugh a little, “no. i’ve never been skiing though. I’m kind of scared”. 

“it’s like a roller coaster but your skating instead. it’s fun though”.

“I’m going to ski into a tree and embarrass myself”. you whine. taehyun chuckles. “no you won’t. plus if you run into a tree you might be as dumb as you think”. 

“how?”. 

“for watching the tree get closer to you and not moving the hell out of the way”. you laugh again and just accepted yourself as dumb because it was something you’d do. being around taehyun helped control your emotions better. of course you weren’t okay without soobin. you missed him more than anything else but you had to do what was best for you. 

luckily, you were assigned to the same cabin as taehyun and some other kid named kai. it was two stories. there was a kitchen on the same floor as the living room and upstairs were three bedrooms. you weren’t hesitant to call the best one. “it’s mine! fair and square!”. you yelled to a complaining kai and taehyun. 

“you know what, since you’re a girl fine!”. kai exclaimed. 

it was cold at the ski resort and it required you to bundle up way more than you were comfortable with. since the majority of the senior class were adults the sisters allowed them to do things outside of their small activities. the juniors however had curfew and were supervised. you were getting settled in your room until it was time to go to your first activity for the night which was held outside of the cabins. 

through the snow you walked with taehyun to the meeting place. since it was late, the sisters decided that you all would ski tomorrow. in order to get everyone acquainted however they set up an activity where different groups of students would sit around a campfire and chat while drinking hot chocolate. 

it was cold and the warmth of the fire kissed your skin beautifully. but things weren’t too beautiful when you saw soobin coming to sit next to you. you roll your eyes scooting further from him. wondering why he was assigned to the same group as you instead of taehyun. 

the rest of the group was talking amongst each other and having a good time until your assigned instructor arrived.

“i’m sorry”. he spoke with his eyes pasted on his folded hands. “I should’ve told you”.

“I don’t care how sorry you are”. you spat in absolute disgust. 

“i know i’m a horrible person for what i did but I changed and I’ve been good to you. what can I do to be worthy of a second chance?”.

“you’re never going to be worthy of a second chance”. 

“why not?”. 

“because you lied soobin. you think just because you’re here apologizing to me that it makes everything okay?”. 

“you knew I wasn’t perfect when you met me”. 

“I didn’t know you were completely heartless either”. 

“I’m not trying to justify what I’ve done by any means. I know it was a horrid thing to do. but i’m really trying to make things right here”.

“make things right and then what? lie to me about something else?”. 

“i’ll stop trying to sugar coat things and be upfront from now on. I’ll tell you everything I’ve done”. 

“you should’ve done that from the beginning”. 

soobin makes an effort to grab your hand and in exchange you throw your last bit of hot chocolate on him. 

“you deserve to be in prison”. you hiss. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“she’d never let you fuck”. 

“she almost did, once”. 

“and what happened? you chickened out?”. 

“no she did”. 

“you’re a punk man”.

“I hate her stupid ass attitude but her body and her innocence, it’s sexy”.

“so what are you going to do? just sit here and let this opportunity go to waste?”. 

“fuck no. before this trip is over, her virginity will be mine”.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Probably crack and a result of staying up way too late, but how do you think an AU where Peter dated and married Naomi instead of Nora would go?

This officially goes on the list of “ships I never considered before, but now that you say it I can kinda see it.”  Peter’s clearly got a competency kink, between Eva and Nora.  Naomi deserves better than Dan.  They’re both overworked single parents who try to do what’s best for their kids, and don’t always succeed.  Peter’s good at the nurturing and hug-giving and supportive side of things, not so much at the day-to-day practicalities.  Naomi’s excellent at making sure everyone is fed and sheltered and keeping up in school, not so much at the touchy-feely stuff.  Yeah, I can see it.

Anyway:

They meet through the PTA, naturally.  Naomi’s there to stage a formal protest about the high school’s suspension of late-bus service, and Peter’s there because this is the once-a-month night out of the house that Marco keeps scheduling for him.  Naomi makes a sarcastic comment about the U.S. government’s idea of “sufficient funding”, Peter jumps in with a one-liner about science grants, and four hours later they’re still companionably trashing the NSF over their third round of bake sale brownies.  Peter makes the first move, of course.  Naomi sets the time, the venue, the curfew, the transportation, and the expectations for the night, of course.

Jake thinks this is the funniest thing that has ever happened to him in his entire life.  The more both Marco and Rachel call him to complain about their respective parents, the funnier he finds it to be.

Both Naomi and Peter are pleasantly surprised at how well their kids get along.  They were both vaguely aware that Marco and Rachel knew each other through school, but neither one is prepared for the instantaneous companionable banter the teenagers fall into the moment Peter first brings Marco over to meet Naomi.

The first four or five times Marco comes around Rachel’s house for dinner, Jordan hides under her hair and watches him in enraptured silence.  After about two months’ worth of this, Rachel drags Marco aside after an Animorphs meeting and has a stern conversation with him.

Neither of them will tell the others what they talk about, even though Ax expresses concern at the brilliant red shade both their faces have taken on and Cassie gives them a knowing smile.  Technically Tobias overhears the whole thing — the others tend to get so caught up in hawk eyes that they forget all about hawk ears — but he’s nice enough to keep his silence.

The next time Marco’s over at Rachel’s house, he lets out a seven-second belch after downing an entire can of Mountain Dew in one go.  Over the next ten minutes, he insults Jordan’s favorite boy band, picks his nose in front of everyone, claims he’s going to die alone because girls are gross, and (to Rachel’s quiet shock) too-casually acknowledges his raging crush on Brad Pitt.

Anyway, it works like a charm.  Jordan gets over her crush pretty quick after that.

“You didn’t have to go quite that hard in the paint, you know,” Rachel says to Marco much later.  “Pretending to like Brad Pitt, I mean.”

Marco is lying on her bed, looking through one of her back issues of CosmoGirl with the air of a forensic anthropologist picking apart the dismembered remains of a human sacrifice.  “What?” he says, back in that too-casual tone.  “I can appreciate a good pair of lips, no matter what type of human being they grow upon.”

Rachel spins around, looking away from the mirror where she was fixing her hair.  Marco is now staring at the magazine as if trying to detect a coded message between two lines of the spread comparing different brands of eyeliner.

“No matter what type?” she asks.

Marco lifts his chin.  He doesn’t back down, and he doesn’t laugh.  There’s a defiant set to his smirk, and the careful confidence in his expression is betrayed by the slight trembling of his fingers clenched around the Cosmo.

Their parents are engaged, that’s all.  And it’s not something he’s ever told anyone... but he also thinks it’s maybe the sort of thing that one tells one’s siblings.

“So you do agree with me and Cassie about Jeremy Jason McCole!” Rachel says triumphantly.

Marco gags so hard he risks straining his own throat muscles.  “I have taste!  You, clearly, have none.”

If Jordan still has any romantic interest in Marco at all even after the you’re going to be step-siblings news broke, it disappears the instant that Naomi announces Jordan and Sara are going to be sharing a room from now on, because Marco and Peter are moving in with them.  A week later, Jake’s mother has a stern conversation with him about the extent to which he’s been running up their phone bill.  He grumbles that he didn’t ask to be everyone’s agony aunt, but that doesn’t get him out of being grounded.

Marco teases Rachel endlessly when he figures out why she leaves her window open every night, even — especially — when it’s cold or rainy outside.  But he also helps cover for her and Tobias without being asked, and one night in gorilla morph he deforms the oak tree out in the back yard so that a sheltered branch rests directly underneath her windowsill.

Rachel stops in the door of Marco’s room the day after the confrontation with Visser One outside the fake hork-bajir valley.  She doesn’t bother to knock.  He didn’t bother to shut the door.

Marco’s sitting in the narrow space between his bed and the wall, staring at the blank blue paint in front of his face.  His knees are drawn up to his chest, his hands limp at his sides.

“They didn’t find a body,” Rachel says, blunt as ever, standing over him.  “I know that’s not good news or anything.  But I also figured you had a right to know.  There’s no sign of Vis—  Of her body.”

Marco squeezes his eyes shut, hard, but still can’t stop the tears.  “Shit.”  He lets his head fall back against the bedspread.  “Shit.”

Hesitating only a second, Rachel scoots in next to him.  She doesn’t try for a hug or anything stupid like that, but she sits shoulder-to-shoulder with him.  She’s the kind of person given to stillness, but she stays put as he struggles to breathe and swipes his sleeve across his face time and time again.

“It’s never going to end, is it,” Marco says at last, when he’s got enough air for words.

Rachel shrugs.  “I’m the wrong person to ask.”

“Shit,” he whispers again.  “Shit, shit, shit.”

“You wanna play Sega?” she asks.  “Not think for a while?”

Marco shakes his head violently.  “I just need some space, okay?”

“Sure.”  She stands.  “I’ll tell my mom not to expect you for dinner.”

Their parents are downstairs cooking.  Laughing.  Arguing companionably over one of Naomi’s cases.  Every clink of dishes, every fond word, feels like a spike driven under Rachel’s fingernails right now.  And if that’s how she feels...

“Anyway, I know you think I’m a crazy psycho killer, but for what it’s worth I think you made the right call.”  She says it sharply, standing to go.  Marco doesn’t respond, not that she expected him to, and she yanks his door shut when she goes.

Peter doesn’t try to be Rachel’s dad.  But he helps her with homework and shows up to her gymnastics meets and acts more excited than she is when she aces a history test.  He asks her what she wants to study in college, not whether she’s going or how they’re expected to pay for it.  He doesn’t try, and he does pretty well anyway.

The Animorphs meet in Rachel’s room almost as often as they do in Cassie’s barn.  It’s more centrally located, even if it doesn’t have nearly the selection of morphs right at hand.  Jake and Cassie both have preexisting excuses for showing up several times a week, and Tobias and Ax never bother using the front door anyway.  Marco’s also taken the time to confirm that no one in the house is a controller, so it saves everyone a little peace of mind.

Rachel wakes up screaming in the middle of the night.  No, that’s not it; she’s screaming in her sleep, and then Marco snaps the light on and wakes her.  He sets a glass of water on her nightstand.  Tilts the alarm clock so she can see the time.  Pokes her in the arm to remind her that she’s human, at least for now.  When it becomes obvious that she’s not going to talk about it, he turns and leaves without ever saying a word.

“I need you,” Marco says into the phone, middle of the night, apparently apropos of nothing.  “They took my dad.”  He gives the address, and then he hangs up.

He and Rachel have come to a decision, without discussion, without niceties like consulting Jake, by the time they’re done fighting off the half-dozen controllers who were dragging Peter toward the portable yeerk pool.  Rachel demorphs as Peter watches.  Marco goes through the explanation the first time, then the second.

Midway through the third round of attempts to convince Peter he’s not crazy, Rachel gives up.  She herds both Peter and Marco into the backseat, and drives back to the house.  “Pack for a long trip,” she tells them both, and goes upstairs to tell her mom.

Maybe, Jake concludes, exhausted just at the thought, they could’ve kept going if it was just his parents, or just Cassie’s.  But Rachel and Marco can’t both disappear without rousing too much suspicion, and getting rid of just one of them will put the yeerks on the tail of the other.  “I guess it’s time,” he says.  “Better get ready to tell our own parents, then.”

By the end of that day, Rachel’s and Marco’s blended family is in the hork-bajir valley.  By the time two days have passed, Jake’s and Cassie’s families are there too, even if Tom is currently secured with about a half-mile of duct tape and will need to be babysat by several hork-bajir for the next three days.  A week after that, Tobias shows up with Loren in tow.  One hellish mission later, and Visser One is dead, but her host is rapidly recovering.

Naomi and Eva circle each other like a pair of housecats thrust into the same room, at first.  They’re prim and aloof and wary, unable to know what to make of each other.  Peter helps exactly nothing by retreating from the conflict entirely, busying himself with an elaborate irrigation project the hork-bajir don’t actually need his help with.  But he can’t escape them forever.

One night, all three of them get roaring drunk on some kind of regrettable fermented-bark thing, and finally have it out.  Peter makes a passionate speech or two about his love for them both before retreating into morose silence.  Naomi’s sixth drink ends in her making an elaborate attempt to draw up a timeshare contract over who will keep Peter on which night.

Eva slams a hand down on the table, and they both fall silent.  She won’t share, she announces quietly, and she won’t be with a man who cannot choose.  She’ll find her own way.

Her own way, as it turns out, is even worse than Marco could have possibly imagined.

“Why?” Marco cries, flopping on the ground in the middle of the next Animorphs’ meeting.  “Why, why, why does this keep happening to me?”

“Pretty sure we’ve been over this before, back when it was your dad, and concluded it’s not about you,” Jake says.  “Anyway, the yeerks —”

“No!”  Marco sits up.  “We have more important things to talk about than yeerks.  Tobias, back me up on this!”

«Uh, yeah.»  Tobias looks over at Rachel.  «By the way, all those times you talked about how weird it was when your mom started dating again... Sorry for not being more sympathetic.  Now that I’m in your shoes...  It’s really weird.»

Rachel sniffs.  “You only met your mom like a month ago.  It’s still worse for me.”

“And it’s worst of all for me!”  Marco has flopped back over.  He emits a noise something like a wookiee being murdered.  “Please someone acknowledge that it’s worst of all for me!”

Cassie pats him on the back of the head.  “It’s worst of all for you,” she says.

“Thanks,” he says into the grass.

“Okay!”  Jake throws up his hands.  “Marco’s mom and Tobias’s mom have a thing going.  Now do we have it out of our systems?”

«Personally, I think Loren and Eva are most compatible,» Ax says.

«Nobody asked you,» Tobias snarks.  «And Jake, just imagine for a second if it was your mom who was macking on—»

“Nope!” Rachel says loudly.  “Nobody is thinking about anyone’s mom and anyone else’s mom.  Or dad.  We are ignoring it, we are pretending it’s not happening, we are carrying on as Marco and I have been for over a year now, we are killing yeerks.”

“Yeah, like I was saying.”  Jake rolls his eyes.  “There are aliens invading the planet, remember?”

“The horror,” Marco mumbles, still facedown in the grass.  “The horror!”

Cassie gives him another sympathetic pat on the back of the head.

[all-things-skam]

Jens’ season | Chapter three

Saturday, January 18th

After the pre-game at Robbe’s, they all moved to some party Jana had found and invited them to. He and Jana had made out a bit, but Jens’ mind couldn’t help wandering to Lucas who was making his phone buzz in his pocket. It felt wrong to make out with someone while thinking about someone else. Jens couldn’t do it. So, he made up some lie about feeling dizzy from alcohol and needing to go home.

Regardless, the night had ended late for Jens. He and Lucas had messaged back and forth all night, getting to know each other through Instagram DMs.

Jens learned that Lucas liked Indie Pop music and hated Marvel movies - even though they look really cool. They are just too long and Lucas could never sit through a whole movie. He broke his arm last year trying to do a trick on the half-pipe, but that didn't stop him from going back on his skateboard the following day. Sweet food was his favorite - as stated at the café. Cakes, pastries, chocolate, pancakes...anything sweet.

The more they chatted, Jens realized that Lucas must have plans with his friends. He only got to see them every other weekend and Jens felt bad from keeping the blue-eyed boy on his phone instead of spending time with them. But, Lucas assured him it was okay, that actually he was glad to have company.

His Friday night didn't go how he had expected it to. What was supposed to be a bowling night ended up being Lucas walking a drunk Isa home after she threw up in the bushes in front of the bowling alley. While he had a good laugh trying to get Isa upstairs, he’d rather lay in bed and talk with Jens.

When he woke up, Jens saw a notification from Lucas. His phone was so close to his face due to falling asleep with it last night that the flashing screen made him groan. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the bright light of the screen.

vanderheijden.lucas Jens? Still there?

vanderheijden.lucas Did you fall asleep? If so, good night. I think I’m going to crash too

A smile crept on Jens’ face, reading Lucas’ messages.

Before he could write anything back, his door opened and Lotte ran and jumped on her big brother’s bed, attacking Jens with morning hugs. A bit startled, Jens’ phone slipped from his hands, landing on his comforter. Lotte screeched as Jens caught her and started tickling her.

''S-stop, stop,'' she demanded between giggles, wiggling and trying to push Jens away with her hands and feet. ''It t-tickles.''

Jens pursued his tickle attack for a couple seconds, stopping when he felt his sister’s breath shorten. ‘’That’s what you get for waking me so early.’’

Lotte frowned. ‘’It’s not early. It’s 10am.’’

‘’For me, it is.’’

The eight year old rolled her eyes, annoyed at her brother's late sleeping-in and morning laziness. ‘’I have something for you.’’

Sitting straighter, Jens raised an eyebrow, curious. ‘’Oh? What is it?’’

Looking around on the mattress, Lotte picked up the piece of paper at the end of Jen's bed and handed him the card she made. It was made out of pink cardboard paper and had drawings of colorful balloons on the cover, spelling 'Happy Birthday' in bold letters. There was a ton of stickers and glitter all around, making a mess on Jens' comforter.

The paper was a bit crumpled from the tickle attack, but it's the thought that mattered. Jens smiled and opened the card, reading Lotte's crooked handwriting. These homemade cards his sister gave him every year were Jens' favorite birthday presents - beside money and alcohol. They were childish, but so meaningful.

His smile widened as he read the short yet heartfelt message. He could tell she had the help of a teacher for the spelling, but they were her words.

''I'm going to a sleepover at Ines' tonight and won't be here to give it to you,’’ Lotte explained.

Jens pulled his sister for a big bear hug. “Thank you for this. You're the best little sister ever,'' he said, returning her own words. Lotte grinned and Jens decided to tease her a bit. ‘’You’re the only sister I have though...don’t have much of a choice.’’

The brunette pulled her eyebrows, giving her brother a look.

‘’I’m kidding.’’ Jens scooted over, tapping the space next to him. ‘’Get in. We can watch a movie before I have to get ready.’’

Lotte looked at Jens with the biggest grin on her face. “Can we watch the new Dr. Dolittle?”

Discontentment and annoyance flashed across Jens’ face. Animal movies were not his thing. Cats & Dogs, Beverly Hills Chihuahua, Marmaduke; he couldn't stand those. As a kid, he was always more into super heroes like Spiderman or Batman. He would watch those for hours on repeat - and had managed to learn all the lines.

The pout on Lotte’s face made him cave and reach for his laptop, about to look for that damn Dr. Dolittle movie.

.

''Birthday boy is here!'' Moyo called cheerfully, phone in hand, filming as Jens made his entrance into the flatshare. He hooked an arm around Jens' shoulder, pulling him in a bro hug. ‘’How does it feel to be seventeen?’’

Jens rolled his eyes at Moyo’s question. ‘’I don’t know. It’s not my birthday, yet…’’ he pointed out, laughing.

Aaron stepped in next, pushing a beer into Jens' hands. They had stronger stuff in the kitchen, but Aaron figured he could start with a beer. It was only 9pm, too early to get drunk. Unless you want to spend your evening sleeping in a corner or with your head in the toilet.

This party was a last minute idea. The initial plan was to go to a bar, but they were all too broke to go out - perks of being a teenager. Neither of the boys could host either, their parents all home this weekend. Except Robbe, who was at the flatshare. But, the place was already taken by Milan’s own birthday party. Having heard their dilema, Milan kindly offered to share his party and celebrate Jens’ birthday too. After all, birthday siblings gotta stick together.

Jens accepted the beer and took a long swig. ‘’Let’s get this party started!’’

Moyo and Aaron cheered on each of his sides, pulling their friend through the mass of people in the living room where they found Robbe - attached to Sander's neck, dancing.

The small boy detached himself from Sander when he spotted Jens, wishing his best friend a happy birthday. Sander did the same, exchanging a quick hug in greetings before pulling Robbe back to him, kissing his cheek.

In true Milan fashion, the apartment was decorated to the max. There was paper streamers taped all over the walls and ceilings along with balloons and even a huge banner on the living room’s wall. A pink fringed curtain separated the kitchen from the rest, as if to let everyone know where the good stuff was.

Jana quickly found Jens, stumbling and holding onto his shoulder for stability. ‘’Happy birthday,’’ she said to him, throwing her arms around his neck and spilling some wine on the floor. Thank god it was white wine.

.

Sunday, January 19th

Jens was a bit hungover when he woke up.

Who was he trying to fool? He was totally hungover. All the alcohol he had downed and mixed felt heavy in his stomach, threatening to come back up. His head was pounding and his back was aching due to sleeping on Milan’s couch.

Over all, he felt like...death.

Jens grunted in displeasure, trying to roll over and grab his phone on the floor - unplugged. If his head didn't hurt this much, he would’ve laughed at his failed attempt to plug his phone, the charger laying a few centimeters from his phone with no phone attached. Good job, Drunk-Jens…

He unlocked the screen and saw a message from his mom, asking what time he was planning to come home - followed by a quick ‘happy birthday’.

Sighing, Jens turned it off and stood, feeling the room spin for a few seconds, probably still a little bit drunk. Steadying himself, he walked past Aaron’s sleeping bag and almost tripped on Moyo’s makeshift bed on the floor. Can’t this boy clean up after himself? Or, was Jens too clumsy?

He heard Zoe and Milan talking, quickly followed by the sound of Moyo and Sander laughing. Jens followed the voices, coming from the kitchen, hood covering his messy hair.

''And he's up!'' Moyo commented as he made his entrance, interrupting the current conversation.

''How's the birthday boy feeling this morning?'' Milan teased, sensing his hangover.

Aaron and Moyo snickered and Jens flipped them off. ''Like I got rolled over by a fucking truck,'' he answered honestly, voice croaky from the lack of hydration.

Last night, Jana had made him chug wine while they danced, and the boys vodka. Seventeen shots for his seventeenth birthday. What a great idea.

Sander was sitting on the kitchen counter - lacking seats -, sipping coffee with Zoe. It was unlike him to wake up before Robbe - or be anywhere without him -, but someone had to make decent coffee.

‘’Want some?’’ Zoe kindly offered.

Jens nodded and she poured him a cup. Hopefully it'll wake him up and ease his hangover - or make it disappear altogether.

‘’Want some vodka in your coffee?’’ Sander asked with a smirk.

Jens made a grimace, stomach churning. ‘’Don’t mention the devil.’’

Sander laughed and got down from the counter, asking if anyone wanted breakfast. Zoe offered to help, knowing no one else could cook in this household.

They took everyone’s orders, settling on eggs and pancakes. Usually, Jens would be down for some good homemade breakfast, but there was no way he could stomach food right now. Just the smell of it made his stomach turn.

Head on the kitchen table, the birthday boy listened as Moyo shared his retelling of last night's escapades. Since his failed attempt with Noor, his pride was a bit wounded and he had taken Aaron's spot as the desperate one of the gang. He ranted about this cute blonde with a plunging top, putting emphasis on how close he was to kissing her, but skipped the part where she slapped him. Too bad for him, Jens happened to have caught the scene when coming out of the bathroom.

And while they all agreed Aaron was the worst in the flirting department... Moyo wasn't much better.

As they were talking, Jens felt like his head was about to explode, how was he supposed to go home like this later? He doubted his hangover would go unnoticed by his parents. Especially his mom. It’s like she has a sixth sense or something.

Just as Zoe and Sander deposited the food on the table, a sleepy eyed Robbe walked into the kitchen, hair messy and sticking up here and there. He wasn't even wearing pants, just an oversized tee shirt, covering just enough.

“Do I smell pancakes?” he asked.

Sander snorted, unimpressed. ‘’Of course, that’s what gets you out of bed.” Robbe smiled lazily and went to sit on Sander’s lap, already missing his boyfriend’s touch. “Now I know what gets you up in the morning!”

Robbe pressed his forehead against Sanders, mumbling quietly. “I can tell you of a few other things that get me up in the morning”

“Hey, we are eating here, man,” Moyo groaned, tearing his eyes away from the couple and scrunching his face.

“Well, at least you don’t have to live with them 24/7” Milan lamented.

Zoe agreed, scooping a pancake onto a plate and taking it to the counter to eat. The kitchen was a tad bit small for all these people, but they made it work.

‘’You’re not eating?’’ the blonde asked Jens, eyebrows raised, but the boy shook his head. ‘’It might not sound like it, but eating could make you feel better. Alcohol causes low blood sugar. Eating breakfast actually helps get your sugar levels up while the alcohol comes out of your system.’’

‘’I’m good.

Jens felt his phone buzz in his hand. He lifted his head and Looked at the screen, seeing an Instagram notification.

vanderheijden.lucas sent you a message.

Jens opened his phone and stared at a flashing ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ gif.

vanderheijden.lucas I hope you had a great birthday. Sorry I couldn’t be there, but I’ll definitely see you next Friday

.

Monday, January 20th

Jens felt a lot better on Monday. The content of his stomach was no longer threatening to come up and the elephant sitting on his head was gone.

He had vomited his guts in the bathroom when coming home yesterday and had to make up a lie about eating something bad at Robbe's and upsetting his stomach. His knew his lie was mediocre and his mom probably saw through it, but didn't say a thing. He was a teenager and it was his birthday, he's allowed to have fun once in a while.

He was on his way to meet the boys for lunch when someone walked past him and bumped into him on the staircase.

''Sorry, I should watch where I’m going.’’

Caught off guard, Jens forced a smile, turning more genuine when seeing Lucas. His curly fringe was perfectly swept on the side and the color of his jacket matching his blue eyes.

“It’s cool. How was your weekend?'' Jens said, trying to stay smooth and chill.

He didn't know why, but Lucas's presence had the tendency to destabilize his confidence a bit.

Lucas shrugged. “It was good. I hadn't gone home since my dad and I moved here two weeks ago. It felt good to spend some time with my mom and see my friends. I really miss it sometimes...but then I run into you and it doesn’t seem so bad.”

He smirked and Jens' didn't know how to react. His stomach dropped, surprised, but not shocked. Was Lucas flirting with him again?

''I saw your stories, it seemed like you had a lot of fun at your party?''

“Yeah, it was great, but I got a wicked hangover that I’m still getting over.''

''Have sex.''

''Excuse me?''

''Sex is an excellent cure for hangover.''

Jens raised an eyebrow. ‘’Does it?’’ He paused, raising his gaze to meet Lucas’, clear blue irises looking right into his. ’’I’m gonna need a partner for that, though...’’

The brunet cocked an eyebrow, still holding Jens' stare, reading through the heavy subtext. They had entered a new level of flirting and neither were mad about it.

Lucas licked his lips slowly, making something in Jens' stomach flipped over at the gesture, and the Netherland boy took a step closer towards him, nearly closing all the space between them. Lucas opened his mouth, but before he could say - or do - anything, someone called Lucas’ name.

''Luc! Come on, man, we’re going to be late.''

''I gotta go. See you later, Jens,’’ Lucas said, readjusting the bag on his shoulder and winking before leaving.

.

Tuesday, January 21st

A knock on Jens' door woke him from his slumber. His first thought was that it was his sister joining him for the night, but Lotte never knocked. Jens frowned. Slipping out from his covers, the teenager walked to the door, eyes barely open, still half-asleep.

The hallway light caused Jens to squint his eyes and hiss. He rubbed them with his palms, adjusting to the light. ''Mom?''

She was in her bathrobe, hair down from her usual bun, slightly messy due to her pillow. ''Sorry to wake you, honey,'' Fenna apologized in a hushed voice, cautious to not wake her sleeping daughter next door.

It was very unusual for his mom to wake him in the middle of the night - unless something was going on. Did she get an emergency call from work? Jens hadn't heard his father come home, did he get into an accident? His frown deepened, getting worried.

''What is it, Mom?''

Fenna sighed and looked down, the bags under her eyes appearing more prominent. ''Your dad is drunk. Can you help me take him to bed?'' He could sense the shame in her voice from having to ask her son for help with his drunk father.

Jens nodded, mentally shaking his head in disappointment.

He followed his mom down and walked into the living room, taking in the state of his inebriated father, passed out on the loveseat, shoes still on and jacket half off. Jens felt a burst of resentment towards his dad in that moment. How could he drink so much that his own son was having to drag him to his room so his little sister wouldn’t see her dad this way? How could he do that to his wife too? Doesn’t she work hard enough at the hospital? She doesn’t need to come home and have to deal with her drunk husband.

''I tried to get him to move, but he's being stubborn and-'' Fenna started to explain, a yawn interrupting her.

It was the first time it happened and Jens hoped it was the last - for his dad's own good. Coming home late and picking fights with his mom was one thing, coming home drunk was another.

''Go back to bed, Mom. I'll take care of this,'' Jens said, taking in the state his dad was in. He reeked of beer and whiskey.

Fenna refused. ''No. It shouldn't be your job to take care of your dad.''

‘’He’s just a dead weight. I'll manage.''

Her eyes shifted between her son and husband, feeling guilty for making Jens take care of Mohamed. He was a kid, it wasn’t his responsibility. But, she had already tried to get him upstairs and didn't succeed. All she did was get one half of his jacket off.

With one last look at her son, Fenna gave in. ''Alright. I'll go get his side of the bed ready. Just bring him upstairs, okay?''

Jens nodded and watched as his mom returned to the second floor, leaving him to deal with his dad. The teenager sighed, dreading the work to come.

''Dad?''

The man grumbled, half responsive. Jens didn't lose time trying to understand whatever he was trying to say and threw his dad's arm over his neck, getting him to sit up just enough to remove his jacket. Like he said, he was a dead weight which made the task a bit difficult.

''Can you stand?'' Jens asked, trying to not let his irritation show.

He helped his old man up, slinging one of his arms behind his neck and keeping one hand behind his dad's back as support. Mohamed felt heavy on Jens.

Mohamed mumbled something that Jens couldn’t understand.

“What did you say?”

“ I said, your mom hates me.” His voice was rough and slurred.

Jens sighed. “She doesn’t hate you, but you need to start doing better. She can’t keep working these double shifts all the time, and you can’t be coming home drunk like that. It’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to Lotte or me either. I shouldn't have to do this, Dad.” He wasn't trying to guilt-trip his dad, just talk some sense into him.

There was a long silence before Mohamed responded. “I’m trying, okay? But nobody wants to hire a 40 year old with minimal training.'' He scoffed before going into a coughing fit. ''Anyway, why am I even telling you this? You're just a teenager that has no idea what it means to support a family.”

Jens tried to not let his dad's words get to him. While he wasn’t a parent, he had been kind of forced to take over his dad’s responsibilities and play the head of the house for his family recently.

After a difficult struggle, Jens finally got his dad to his room and safely into bed. He wasn't so drunk he'd have to be watched over, but Jens took all the precautions - just in case. He put a pillow behind him so he'd stay on his side during the night and set a glass of water on the nightstand, right by his phone.

Jens gave Mohamed one last glance, his eyes darting to his sleeping mother. He wished that things could be different for her, that she didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. She was a good mom and Jens knew she would do whatever it took to take care of her family, but he couldn't let her put her health in jeopardy.

With a heavy sigh, Jens quietly closed the door and returned to his own bed.

.

Thursday, January 23rd

''Hi,'' Amber said, interrupting Jens and Aaron's conversation, leaning in to kiss her boyfriend, lingering a bit too long - and with too much tongue - to be appropriate for school grounds. At least, in the middle of the main hall.

Jens rolled his eyes, tearing them away from the unwanted tongue battle in front of him. Seeing his annoyance, Jana saw this as an opening and smiled before going in for a kiss. Unlike Aaron, Jens dodged her lips and pulled out his phone, checking if he had any new messages.

He had seen her coming - of course he did -, but something inside him didn't want to kiss her. Especially when he was starting to feel something for a certain blue eyed boy.

Kissing at parties - or at home - was for fun, but kissing at school felt a bit too official for Jens' liking. No one kissed their Saturday hook up in the hallway between classes. He didn't want to give Jana the wrong idea and then hurt her feelings.

The brunette frowned, confused and hurt.

Jens could feel her sulking, but he didn’t say a thing, acting as if he wasn’t aware of what he did. Sometimes, playing dumb got you out of trouble.

Sulking, Jana pulled at her friend's arm, forcing their kiss to end. ''Amber.''

‘’What?’’ the blonde said, turning to Jana. ‘’Oh! Right. Change of plans. My parents are away this weekend so I’m celebrating my birthday a bit early. You’ll come?’’

‘’Sure babe, we’ll be there, right Jens?’’ Aaron nudged him, forcing the raven haired one to look up from his phone.

Jens faked a smile. ‘’Sure.’’

.

Jens pressed the doorbell and waited.

He had texted Moyo's guy earlier today and had been given an address to meet at. At first, the guy was skeptical, but Jens mentioned Moyo and everything was chill.

Dogs started barking at the doorbell noise and Jens' back straightened. A man told them to shut up - which they did -, and someone popped their head out, keeping the door mostly shut. He had a buzz cut, clean cut beard and the tattoo on his neck gave Jens the chills.

Seeing a new face, the man glanced up and down at Jens and raised an expectant eyebrow, asking what he wanted.

''Erm, I've been given this address. I'm here to see...Michiel.''

If he had told Moyo the truth, he wouldn’t have given Jens his dealer’s number. While his intentions were good, dealing drugs - even just weed - was very unsafe. The risks of getting caught and consequences were higher than just smoking it. But, all Jens saw was a way to make a quick buck and help his family.

The guy disappeared inside for a few seconds, probably talking to his boss, and came back to let Jens inside.

Unlike the previous guy, this one was much shorter, but non the less intimidating. He had a thick gold chain around his neck and a scar above his eyebrow. ‘’You asked for me?’’

‘’I…’’

Jens felt like an idiot. He had always been a pretty confident person, but Michiel’s presence made him nervous - with good reason. Drug dealers weren’t the kind of people you want to mess with.

‘’If you want to buy, see one of my guys, Kid. I just make the big deals.’’ Michiel was around to turn his back and leave, but Jens spoke up.

‘’Actually, that’s what I’m here for. A friend referred me to you, saying you might have something for me. A job.’’

Michiel glanced at Jens up and down, just like the previous guy, and scoffed. ''I already have my guys.''

Under his grey hoodie, smooth skin and dangly earring, Jens was too clean for Michiel’s taste. He could never pass as a pusher, he looked too young.

Seeing through his thoughts, Jens took another approach.

''Look at me. No one will suspect it. I...I can cover at school? Or even the skatepark? People there are always looking for weed. I’m sure I could bring you good cash.’’

The man hesitated still. Teenagers weren't the most trustworthy pushers. Most would either use all the drug and run off. But, something was different about Jens. He had this insistence and self-motivation that got Michiel’s attention.

‘’I need fast cash. Give me a chance. I...I really need it,'' Jens almost begged. He tried to cover his emotions, not wanting to sound too desperate even though, in his head, he was on his knees. He needed this job really bad.

Michiel’s silence got Jens scared he had blown his shot. ‘’You do have a pretty face,’’ he pointed out. ‘’Make sure I don't have to ruin it, okay?''

Jens nodded rapidly.

‘’You’re on trial. I’ll give you a couple grams and I need them sold as fast as possible. Give me a shout when you’re done.’’ Michiel paused. ‘’Don’t disappoint me, Kid.’’

.

Friday, January 24th

The bag of weed in his backpack felt heavy. Cert, there was more grams than Jens usually took to parties, but weed doesn’t weight much. It was more the pressure of having to sell it that made it heavy.

Being a smoker of green for over two years, it was his first time actually selling weed. He had sold some to guys at the skatepark, a gram or two, but he was never a pusher, as they called them. The term sounded dirty and wrong in his head. Jens knew it was something he shouldn’t be doing, but his parents needed money.

Robbe giggled at something Sander said, already a bit tipsy from the beers they drank at his place. He had hosted a pre-game, the first one since he moved back with his mom, and he didn’t slow down on the beers. At his boyfriend's behavior, Sander had kept it low with the alcohol, knowing he’ll be the one to carry Robbe home later and couldn’t do that if he was too intoxicated.

For the first time, Aaron hadn’t been present at the pre-game. Being the boyfriend of the birthday girl, he was already at the party, helping Amber and the girls with the decorations and all that.

Moyo pressed the doorbell, waiting for someone to open. They could hear the shitty pop music Amber loved from the doorstep. Sander grimaced at the music choice, Amber’s music taste being added to the list of things he didn’t like about her.

‘’I’m gonna....go see Kobe,’’ Jens announced, seeing him by the window with a couple guys from the skatepark. ‘’I’ll be right back.’’

Jens and Kobe weren’t friends. He had sold him weed once and shared a blunt behind some bushes at the skatepark one afternoon. What Jens knew was that the guy was always looking to buy weed, having no regular dealer, aka easy cash for Jens.

Moyo nodded, heading to the kitchen to look for Aaron with Robbe and Sander following behind, holding hands and walking close.

‘’ ‘Sup, man,’’ Kobe said as Jens approached them.

‘’Good, good,’’ Jens responded, responding to the brunet’s fist exchange.

‘’Long time no see.’’

‘’Yeah… Eh, I might have something for you.’’ Jens raised his eyebrows and motionned for Kobe to follow him.

Kobe nodded, a knowing smile on his lips, getting what Jens meant. He told his friends he was going with Jens for a few minutes, having something he wanted to tell him in private.

Jens almost snorted at Kobe’s lack of subtlety. This guy was worse than Aaron - if possible.

.

Half of his stock sold, thanks to Kobe and the guys they ran into on Amber’s balcony. Turned out selling weed wasn’t as difficult as Jens had initially thought. Being at a party was helping his sales, but it was relatively easy. People bought by chunks of two or three grams with promises of buying more next time Jens had some, not having a lot of cash on them.

Fiddling with the doors, Jens found himself in the bathroom, trying to hide from the outside world that sometimes got a bit too overwhelming. It’s not that he didn't like to party, he just hadn't been in the mood lately. There was a lot on his mind and, sometimes, he just couldn’t escape it.

‘’Hiding from someone?’’

The voice startled Jens, but when he saw who it was he just shrugged. ‘’I don’t feel like partying tonight, is all.’’

Lucas hummed. ‘’Mind if I join?’’ He reached into his jacket’s pocket and pulled out a slightly cooked joint. ‘’I have weed. Straight from Netherlands.’’

Who was Jens to refuse free weed. He shifted in the tub, making room for Lucas.

‘’I’ve been wanting to ask: why did you move here? I know your parents got divorce, but isn’t changing countries is a bit extreme?’’ He passed the joint to Lucas, head leaned back against the tiled wall, starting to feel the buzz.

Lucas smiled at the ceiling. ‘’Try telling my father that. If you ask me, he tried to take me away from my mom; if you ask him, he got a job offer he couldn’t refuse.’’ He took a drag and exhaled the smoke through his nose. ‘’I didn’t want to go, but according to the judge, he’s the one who can offer me a ‘better life’. So I had to go with him.’’

‘’Why would he take you away from your mom? Is she ill or something.’’

‘’Or something,’’ Lucas confirmed, not comfortable talking about this part of his life yet. He handed Jens the joint again.

‘’Left a girl at home?’’

Lucas snorted. ‘’A girl? Who said I’m into girls?’’

Jens shrugged, not knowing what to answer.

Lucas never explicitly said who he was attracted to, why did Jens assume that he was straight? By default, maybe? Despite all the progress the LGBTQ+ community is making in society, history had a way of bleeding into our subconscious. So, unless someone showed a ‘behavior that defied the default’, they were classified as straight.

‘’I tried girls, but it wasn’t for me,’’ Lucas started. He shook his head, thinking back at his mistake. ‘’They’re pretty, but it wasn’t doing it for me, you know?’’

Jens nodded. A part of him understood what Lucas meant, but another didn’t. Unlike Lucas, Jens liked girls. Their long hair, sweet perfume, smooth skin - and boobs. But, more recently, he found himself looking at boys - one, in particular.

‘’I was in love with a boy - my best friend,’’ Lucas continued. ‘’He had a girlfriend, who was also my friend, and I fucked it all up.’’

‘’Your chances with him?’’ Jens tried.

‘’No. That was pretty much dead from the start,’’ Lucas explained with a chuckle. ‘’Our friendship, their relationship.’’

‘’So, you’re a homewrecker?’’

Lucas gasped, kicking Jens’ leg playfully. Jens gave him a small grin.

‘’Hey what happened to sharing? You’re hogging the weed,’’ Jens pointed out, mildly annoyed.

''Come and get it,'' Lucas teased, pulling the joint at arm's length, away from Jens's reach. There was a challenging tone in his voice, almost daring Jens to come closer.

A bit too intoxicated - and high - to think properly, Jens leaned over, hovering over Lucas as he tried to get a hold of the joint. Lucas laughed, moving the lit joint every time Jens was close to take it. Jens was getting frustrated, his reflexes slower than usual because of the marijuana.

Jens started laughed too, having difficulty holding himself up in the small tub. ''Stop it.''

Lucas continued his little game, their laughter caused Jens to lose balance and slip. Thankfully, he was able to grab at the tub's edge, preventing himself from crushing Lucas under - or cracking his skull.

''Sorry,'' Jens apologized.

He was about to raise himself back up, but stopped when he realized how dangerously close they were to each other, faces only a few inches apart. Jens's body stilled, breath catching in his throat as his heart rate started to pick up behind his chest. His dark eyes easily found Lucas's blue ones and Lucas stopped laughing. He stared back at Jens, taking in his sharp cheekbones and plump lips.

Jens made the first move, eyelids slowly fluttering shut as he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips on Lucas.

Undoubtedly, when Jens came to this party, he didn't have the intention of kissing Lucas in Amber's bathtub. But, one thing led to another and here he was, sitting back in the tub and kissing the new kid.

Sparks didn't fly when their lips touched, which was a bit disappointing. Or, maybe it did? The weed was confusing his senses.

Kissing a boy wasn't that much different than kissing girls, in the end. It was the same mechanics; lips on lips - and sometimes tongue. Lucas' lips were very soft for a boy. They tasted like weed and beer too, which Jens didn't mind. It was a nice change from the usual sweet and sticky feeling of glosses and lipsticks or whatever girls put on their lips.

A breathy moan left Lucas' lips as one of Jens' hands came up to cup his jaw, holding him in place as his tongue grazed over Lucas' mouth, teeth closing on his bottom lip and pulling. Jens' senses were buzzing and his mind was too far behind to function.

Lucas' free hand snaked behind Jens' neck, grasping at his thick, dark hair, giving it a slight tug, the single earring dangling as they kissed. Jens breathed a moan into the kiss at the feeling and Lucas smirked, content with himself, before doing it again.

Fuck. How did he get here?

Jens broke the kiss, needing to catch his breath and the brunet took advantage of the taller one's neck being exposed to trail his lips up and down the tanned skin. It will most likely leave marks behind, but Jens couldn’t be bothered to care. At the moment, it felt really good.

Jens cradled Lucas’ face in his hands, guiding him back up and brought their lips together again. This time, the kiss was softer and slower, savoring the feeling of those beautiful pouty lips he had wished to kiss for weeks.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

I Believe the Children Are Our Future: Final Part

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,809

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

As soon as you reached Jesse’s house, you banged down the door and rushed in. Jesse was in the corner with fear in his eyes as he stared at you and the brothers. Castiel was nowhere to be found, so maybe he didn’t come yet.

“Was there a guy here? In a trench coat?” you asked.

Jesse points to the floor where there is an action figure wearing Castiel’s suit and trench coat. He was holding a silver knife, and you gasped as you picked him up.

“What did you do to him?” you looked at the young boy.

The boy didn’t answer as you walked to the fireplace and placed Castiel on the mantlepiece so that nothing could touch him.

“Was he your friend?” Jesse asked when he took a seat on the couch.

“Him? No,” Dean answered for you.

“I did that. But how did I do that?”

“You're a superhero.”

“I am?”

“Yeah. I mean, who else could turn someone into a toy? You're Superman—minus the cape and the go-go boots. See, my partners and I, we work for a secret government agency. It's our job to find kids with special powers. In fact, we're here to take you to a hidden base in South Dakota, where you'll be trained to fight evil,” Dean grinned as he tried to make the child go with you three.

“Like the X-Men?”

“Exactly like the X-Men,” Dean chuckled. “In fact, the, uh, guy we're taking you to—he's even in a wheelchair. You'll be a hero. You'll save lives. You'll get the girl. Sounds like fun, right?” Before the child could do or say anything, you three were flung to the wall just as Julia came in with black eyes. Guess the demons found her which in turn found Jesse.

“They’re lying to you,” the demon growled.

Your eyes flashed a bright blue before you resisted the demonic powers. Stalking over to the demon, your hands started to glow a bright blue when he forced you to your knees. Jesse stood up at the same time as the demon began choking you.

“Stay right there, dreamboat. Can't hurt you. Orders. You, on the other hand? Hurting you is encouraged,” the demon grinned at you.

“No!” you gasped as you looked at Jesse for help.

“Leave her alone!” Jesse yelled. The demon walked over to the child before leaning down and speaking sweetly.

“Jesse. You're beautiful. You have your father's eyes,” she grinned.

“Who are you?”

“I’m your mother.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Mm-hm. You're half human... half one of us.”

“She means demons, Jesse!” you gasped.

Julia straightened up and held out a fist which closed off your airway. Gasping, you tried to get whatever air you could before you couldn’t.

“Those people you call your parents—they lied to you, too. You're not theirs—not really.”

“My mom and dad love me.”

“Do they? Is that why they leave you alone all day? Because they love you so much? These people—these imposters—they told you that the tooth fairy was real and that your toys could hurt you and a hundred other things that aren't true. They love you so much, they made your whole life a lie. Look into your heart, Jesse. You've always known you weren't theirs. You've always known you were different. Everyone has lied to you. They're not FBI agents, and you're not a superhero.”

“When what am I?”

“You're powerful. You can have anything you want. You can do anything you want.”

“Don’t listen to her, Jesse,” Dean groaned.

The demon held up a hand and did the same thing to Dean as she did to you.

“They treated you like a child. Nobody trusted you. Everybody's lied to you. Doesn't that make you angry?” she asked. Jesse created a fist with his hand and the room started to rattle. The fire from the fireplace flares up and the light started to flicker. “See? It does make you angry. But I'm telling you the truth, Jesse. Wouldn't it be better if there were no lies? Come with me and you can wash it all clean. Start over. Imagine that—a world without lies.”

“She's right. We lied to you,” Sam said as the demon snapped her head to his. “But I’ll tell you the truth.” The demon held up a hand, and something started to break in Sam’s body as he tried to gasp out his words.

“Stop it,” Jesse said to the demon. Sam drops to the floor with a gasp, and the demon looked at Jesse with a smirk. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

“You're stronger than I thought.”

“We lied to you, and I'm sorry. So, here's the truth. I'm Sam Winchester. That's my brother, Dean and his girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N. W-we hunt monsters.”

“Except when you are the monster. Right, Sammy?” the demon aggravated.

“That woman right there, her name is Julia. She's your mother. But the thing inside of her, the thing that you're talking to—it's a demon.”

“A demon?”

“He's done nothing but lie to you since the moment you met him. Don't listen to him. Punish him,” the demon sneered.

“Sit down and shut up,” Jesse glared. A chair scoots up behind Julia who is forced to sit into it, silence. She struggled to speak, and you looked at her with rage before looking at Jesse.

“There's, uh, kind of a war between angels and demons, and... you're a part of it.”

“I'm just a kid.”

“You can go with her if you want. I can't stop you. No one can. But if you do... millions of people will die.”

“She said I was half demon. Is that true?”

“Yes, but you're half human, too. You can do the right thing. You've got choices, Jesse. But if you make the wrong ones, it'll haunt you for the rest of your life.”

“Why are you telling me this?!” he exclaimed as his voice broke in the end.

“Because I have to believe someone can make the right choice, even if I couldn't,” Sam sighed. Jesse thought about Sam’s words before looking at the demon.

“Get out of her,” he stated.

The chair flies back into the wall as black smoke began pouring out of Julia’s mouth and vanished into the chimney. As soon as the demon was gone, Dean fell to the ground, and the pressure was taken off your throat. Gasp-coughing, you hunched over as you breathed heavily and quickly.

“How did you do that?” Dean asked as you shakily stood up.

“I just did.”

“Kid... you're awesome,” Dean groaned. Jesse looked at his mother before turning to you and the brothers.

“Is she going to be alright?”

“Eventually,” you sighed. Looking down, you noticed Castiel lying on the floor, and you picked him up and turned to face the young boy. “Listen, the truth is, he’s a good friend of mine—ours. Is there any way you could turn him back?”

“He tried to kill me.”

“Right. But he's a—he's a good guy. He was just confused,” you tried again. Jesse didn’t say anything, and you just placed Castiel back on the mantle with a sigh. “It's been a long night. We'll talk about it later.”

“What now?” the child asked.

“Now we take you someplace safe, get you trained up. You'd be handy in a fight, kid,” Dean said.

“What if I don't want to fight?” he asked with wide eyes. Sighing, you walked to Jesse before kneeling in front of him to be closer to his level.

“You’re powerful, kid. More powerful than pretty much anything we’ve ever seen. That makes you—”

“A freak.”

“Maybe to some people, yeah, but not to us. See, we’re kind of freaks ourselves,” you said as your eyes turned a bright blue. Holding up your hand, a blue wisp of magic began dancing around your fingers and palm before disappearing as did the color in your eyes. “I guess I’m a freak too, but that’s what makes you extraordinary.”

“I can't stay here, can I?”

“No. The demons know where you are, and more will be coming,” Dean informed.

“I won't go without my mom and dad.”

“There's nothing more important than family,” Sam said. “We get that, and if you really want to take them with you, we'll back your play. But you got to understand—it's gonna be dangerous for them, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Our dad... he would take us with him wherever he went.”

“Where is he now?”

“Dead. A demon killed him and my mom. Right in front of me,” you answered with a sigh.

“Look, Jesse,” Deans aid as he knelt down next to you, “once you're in this fight, you're in it till the end, win or lose.”

“What should I do?”

“We can't tell you. It's your choice. It's not fair. I know,” Sam sighed.

“Can I go see my parents? I need to say goodbye.”

“Sure,” you whispered as Jesse left for his parent’s room. Standing up, you walked over to Castiel and stared at him.

“I wonder if he can see us,” you commented.

One minute turned to three which turned to five and then ten. Still, Jesse didn’t come down the stairs.

“He's been up there a long time,” you noted. After changing glances with the brothers, you raced upstairs to see Jesse had left. Vanished.

“He's gone,” Castiel said from behind. Turning to look at the angel, you wondered where he came from.

“Where?”

“I don't know. Jesse put everyone in town back to normal—the ones still alive. Then he vanished.”

“Hey,” Sam said as he picked up a note that was on Jesse’s bed.

“What does it say?” you asked.

“That he had to leave to keep his parents safe, that he loves them, and he's sorry.”

“How do we find him?” Dean asked.

“With the boy's powers, we can't. Not unless he wants to be found.”

You think Jesse is going to be okay?” you asked with one hand on the wheel. Dean was next to you in the front while Sam was resting in the back.

“I hope so,” Sam sighed.

“You know, we destroyed that kid's life by telling him the truth.”

“We didn't have a choice, Dean.”

“Yeah. You know, I'm starting to get why parents lie to their kids. You want them to believe that the worst thing out there is mixing Pop Rocks and Coke—protect them from the real evil. You want them going to bed feeling safe. If that means lying to them, so be it,” he paused. “The more I think about it... the more I wish Dad had lied to us.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sam sighed as he closed your eyes.

“Me three.”

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[winchester90210]

The BH 90210 Rewrite. 1x17: Stand (Up) And Deliver.

Rewrite Masterlist

Read the previous chapter here!

Chapter Summary: Tensions run high when Brandon decides to run for class president.

Warnings: It’s like 90% angst this week. Everyone’s a jerk at some point in this. Brandon’s a jerk. You’re a jerk. Kelly’s a jerk. Just be prepared haha. There might be a swear word in there somewhere. If any of you find something that should be tagged in the warnings, let me know! 

Words: 4,100. 

My work is not to be reposted and/or edited without my expressed written consent. (Reblogging is fine and encouraged!!!)

A/N: Just a little disclaimer beforehand: I like Kelly. I know this chapter doesn’t exactly paint her in the best way, but all of the relationships will heal in due time. This one was really fun to write and I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know what you guys think!

-

“Brandon, wait up!” You swerve around the clumps of people in the hall to catch up to him, “I’ve got a proposition.”

“Yeah? Your desk or mine?” He wraps his left arm around you, hand warm against your waist as he pulls you close.

 "Well, actually, Andrea has a proposition for you. I’m just the messenger,“ You slip a paper out of the folder in your hands and pass it to him. His head cocks, looking back at you peculiarly.

 “‘Run for office?’ Y/N/N… no one even knows me here.” 

“That’s what makes this so perfect, no one knows you enough to hate you or anything! Look, this is a good idea because from what Andrea told me, the rest of the candidates are a bunch of popular airheads. And with your Kennedy hair and actual set of morals, you’d be a total shoo-in! At least think about it, okay?” He pecks the top of your head, fiddling with the paper in his hand. 

“Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

-

“Yo, politicos! Last-minute dark horse entry into the class presidential elections!” One minor downfall to Brandon’s entry— David Silver. You forgot he was documenting the entire thing and you didn’t find out about it until he was there sticking a camera in your face and asking you what made Brandon such a ‘suitable candidate.’ You might just lose your mind. “Brandon Walsh, the new kid on the West Beverly block.”

“The sister is always the last to know,” Brenda grumbles, leaning back into the lockers as she watches her brother get relentlessly hounded by a few bulky cameras. 

“He kind of looks like a politician,” Kelly shrugs, “He’s got that Kennedy hair.” Kelly watches as well, though she’s much more interested than the candidate’s sister. Brandon turns down the hall and out of sight, the group of cameras following his every move. She bites her lip amorously. “It’s like a magnet.” 

“What?” 

“Power,” she smirks, a devilish glint in her eye. 

Brenda shoots her a warning glare, “Kelly, don’t.”

-

“What great news!” Mrs. Walsh gushes, “You know, we’ve always felt bad about moving here and screwing up your plans to run back home.” 

“Do you think you can pull it off?” Jim questions, sipping his afternoon coffee. 

“Oh! Definitely,” Donna makes her presence known at the entrance of the kitchen, with Kelly not too far behind and… suddenly you feel the urge to leave. Immediately. “The other guy’s a nobody too. No offense.” 

 “I’ve never been friends with a candidate before!” Kelly smiles, rounding the table to go over to Brandon, while you’re off by the kitchen counter with the other twin. 

“Friends with a candidate’s sister,” Brenda corrects. 

“Uh, right,” She nods,  “I’ve never even voted.” She sets her hand on him, her fingertips gently grazing his shoulder. 

Brandon clears his throat, shrugging her hand off of him and moving over to the counter, “Well, you gotta get involved, Kel. It’s important to try to change things.” 

“Oh, I plan to.” 

“Kelly!” Brenda urges. Once she realizes everyone’s eyes are on her, she readjusts herself. “Uh, didn’t you want to um, borrow one of my jackets? Because I have it upstairs if you want to come get it.” Huh. That was… weird. 

-

It’s the next morning, and you’re sitting there at the kitchen table with the Walshes, making button after button after button. It honestly felt like your hands were gonna fall off at this point. The things you do for that boy. 

“So there I was, listening to Donna being heckled and instantly I knew what to do!” Brenda grins, reminiscing about the previous night at The Fall Out. 

“That’s great, honey,” Jim smiles absentmindedly, “Would you pass me that glue, please?” 

“Bren, that’s incredible! You’ll have to drag me along next time, I so want to see that in action.” You’re the only one to actually acknowledge her as you help Cindy glue down something onto one of one thousand campaign buttons. Ugh, you could feel the blisters forming. 

“Definitely! Performance-oriented coffee houses are really happening, I mean, I really felt like a part of it!” 

“Right… Is this button crooked?” Cindy asks, holding it up to her chest to get a second opinion. 

“It’s fine, mom.” Brenda sighs, scooting her chair out from under her. She stands up with a silent huff and stomps to the foyer to greet whoever came to the door a few minutes prior. You know what you’re doing is for Brandon, but you can’t help but think about how Brenda’s holding up throughout all of this. I mean, her parents barely even acknowledge her existence at this point. 

“Well, I was up all night from that toxic cappuccino, thinking about what you said about getting involved…” Kelly’s purring at Brandon in the foyer while Donna stands idly by. “Brandon, I can help you win. I know everyone.” 

“Or how to glom onto everyone,” Donna mutters. 

“And that’s exactly what you need.” Kelly bargains. 

Brenda stalks over to the group, eyeing the persistent girl suspiciously. 

“Kelly, whenever political stuff comes on you switch to MTV,” She raises her eyebrows in disbelief as she objects. She isn’t gonna let Kelly sink her claws into her brother. Not on her watch.

“Look, help from anyone would be appreciated,” Brandon smiles politely, stepping back into the doorway as Kelly tries to bound closer. 

“Help doing what?” Andrea swoops in from behind Brandon and waltzes in through the open door, arms full of rolled up campaign posters. 

“I’m going to run Brandon’s campaign!” Kelly grins. 

“Kelly, he already has someone running his campaign,” Andrea reminds her.

“Yeah, I think Y/N already has it covered,” Brenda jumps in, nodding eagerly. 

“Well, isn’t there enough room for the both of us?” Kelly asks, hitching an eyebrow up. She folds her arms over her chest and starts at the candidate. 

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea, Kel,” Brandon agrees. 

“Oh, come on! You can never have too much help. It’ll be fun.”

-

“Here, I got some cute politician photos,” Kelly offers. Oh yeah. Kelly being here was a real help. “Try to model yourself after these guys, okay?”

“Well, I can see you’ve been busy,” You comment, peering over her shoulder to look at the pictures she prepared. “Gary Hart never even made it to the nominations, Kelly. Besides, what we need to be focusing on are the actual issues. Not if Brandon looks cute enough.” You go and sit back down at Brandon’s desk. 

“Yeah!” Brandon agrees enthusiastically, “See, I had this idea that we could feed the homeless people with all the surplus food they throw out of the cafeteria.” 

“That’s perfect!” You smile approvingly, tapping your fingers against the wooden desk. “And that’s why you’re going to win— you actually use your brain instead of just your face.” 

“Wait!” Kelly cautions, “We have to hit people with what they want for themselves.” 

“Hey,” you hear Brenda’s voice come from the conjoined bathroom, “Big news— I’ve got my own campaign going— to leave school.” 

“Brenda, that is a great idea!” Kelly exclaims, “Yeah, we’ll tell them they can leave school for lunch!” Oh dear.

Brenda stomps back into her room without hesitation and slams the door behind her. You sigh, lifting yourself from the seat. 

“Be right back, B,” you trail after your best friend into her bedroom, sitting beside her on her bed. “You’re serious about quitting school?”

“Yeah, I am serious, actually.” 

“Hey, y’know, in some cases, getting your equivalency could actually be more beneficial. Just because it’s not right for other people doesn’t mean it can’t be right for you.” Well… you didn’t think it was a great idea, but you weren’t about to tell her that. The last thing she needs right now is for another person to dismiss her. And hey, if anyone can pull it off, it’s probably her. 

“Tell my parents that,” she snickers, eyes rolling.

-

You can’t believe you’re even thinking this… but you are so sick of Brandon’s face. You can’t turn down a hall without seeing his picture, seeing his face staring right at you. “Brandon Walsh for CLASS PRESIDENT.”  It was mocking you at this point. And you know, you know, it was partly your idea. But it was mostly Andrea’s. And the idea was to work on the campaign with him as a team. A small two-person team. Maybe even three with Andrea. But not Kelly. Anyone but Kelly. 

You’re sitting with Brenda at  Fall Out and it feels good— getting out of school, out of your house, out of Casa Walsh. Not to mention the great coffee. 

“Rumor has it that some things you learn with Jack you never wanna unlearn,” Sky, the spunky redheaded barista whispers. 

“Are you two…” Brenda trails off, both hands wrapped around her warm coffee mug. 

“No way,” she giggles, “Even good sex ruins a good friendship.” The guy you had met earlier, Jack, treads over, plopping himself down on the empty seat at the table. “Listen, Jack, I really hate to ask you this, believe me… but it’s family crisis time again, I’ve gotta go up to Modesto.” 

“Forget it,” he scoffs,  “every time I house-sit for you we wind up in a fight. It’s always ‘you didn’t water the plants’ or  ‘you forgot to feed the guppy.’”

“Hey, you know, if you need a house sitter I might have a candidate,” Brenda smirks.

-

You watch, horrified as Brandon’s campaign video plays across the Walshes tv screen. It’s self-indulgent superficial nothingness as clip after clip of Brandon being cute and literally nothing else is displayed. This had to be the most incredible thing you’ve ever seen. No selling points, no talk about anything he’s looking to improve, not even a lousy bribe. Wonderful. Very smart move letting Kelly put this together. And it’s only getting better as it freeze frames, with David’s voice-over pulling through. 

“Bran the man! And he can deliver.”  You had to fight off every urge you had to laugh out loud. I mean… come on. Come. On! Bran the man? Way to go, Kel. 

“Bran the man?” Brandon’s just as confused as you are, mouth agape. You have to take a deep breath to suffocate the laugh that’s trying to claw its way up before you speak. And behind that laughter, there was just a little bit of anger. Juuust a little bit.

“Now, okay. As incredible as that was, Kelly, and I mean incredible— you told us… nothing.” 

“That’s the beauty of it! He doesn’t have to say anything.” 

“That’s not a good thing! He could be trying to reinstate nazis or the KKK into West Beverly and we’d have no idea. Brandon, you can’t possibly think this is a good idea!” You protest, eyes wide. 

“Hey, we all want to win, Y/N/N.” Okay. Make that a lot of anger. He was actually going to let that flaming piece of self-indulgent garbage be his campaign video? 

“Well, if this is your way of winning… I think there’s a part of me that actually wants you to lose. I’m out.“ You shove on your jacket, jumping up from your seat and start to foot it out the door.

“Hey, where are you going?”

You shrug carelessly, “I don’t know. Might grab some pie, might rent a movie, maybe a pizza. We’ll see.” You make it out before he can get another word in, the slamming of the door the only sound in the house now. Hah. Bran the Man. Unbelievable. 

“I can’t believe it,” Brandon mumbles, “she totally just deserted me.” 

“Well…” Kelly begins, “I’m still here, Brandon.” He lets out a gravelly sigh, shaking his head as he paces over to the bookshelves. 

“I don’t know. I think she’s right. The whole thing might be a little vain.” 

“Listen, Brandon,” she stalks over to him, voice lowering, “If you really want something… you have to go after it. Hard. Any means necessary.” 

That’s when it clicks for him. Had Kelly had been coming onto him this entire time? He looks down at his feet, chuckling sheepishly, a hint of bitterness peaking through. 

“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

 Kelly shakes her head, approaching closer and letting her arms snake around his neck. 

“I wouldn’t say so.” 

“Kelly,” he grabs her wrists and removes them from around him, setting them back at her sides.

“C’mon, no one has to find out,” she purrs, attempting to return to the previous position. 

This time, he’s not so gentle, practically flinging her arms off of him. “What’s your problem? She’s technically not even your girlfriend!" 

“But she’s not not my girlfriend. Just because we haven’t sat and talked and said ‘we’re dating’ doesn’t mean it changes our relationship. I love her, Kelly. And there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about that." 

“But—“ 

 “Let me rephrase this so you understand,” he continues, only speaking fractionally slower. Taunting her. “I’m not going to do this to Y/N. And I’m not gonna self-sabotage after one argument. I don’t know if I’ve been sending off the wrong signals or something— but I have no interest in you romantically. I agreed to let you help so I could get extra help on the campaign. Not so I could see your clumsy, evil attempt at trying to seduce me out of the relationship with the girl I love.” He clears his throat, “Now… Are we clear?”

Kelly exhales in defeat, eyes lightly lined with tears of embarrassment. “Crystal.” 

-

“This place is so cool!” You cheer as you enter through the front door of Sky’s apartment, cheese pizza in hand. 

“I know, right?!” Brenda beams, “I can’t believe I actually convinced my parents to let me stay here for a few days. Then again, maybe they’ve been so focused on Brandon that it slipped right by them.” 

“No way! Parents worship the ground their children walk on, they just never admit it,” you convince, throwing your jacket on the couch.

“That’s probably true,” Brenda laughs, “how’d you convince your parents?”

“I didn’t, Eric did. I swear that kid could talk his way out of a paper bag,” You set the pizza down on the coffee table, kicking your feet up. “So, our first order of business. What are we watching? Dirty Dancing or Risky Business?”

-

You sigh as you and Brenda watch her brother chat up a random jock. Tom or Todd or Mark or something. 

“Brandon hates that jerk,” She notices. Andrea joins you at your other side, scoffing.

“Yeah, well, jerks are voters too,” she adds. 

“I just can’t believe he let himself get manipulated this way!” Brenda might not be able to, but you sure can. 

“Major integrity loss,” Andrea laments. 

“And here comes Svengali,” you fawn sarcastically as Kelly struts her way over, nose wrinkled in disgust. 

“Brenda, how can you wear that costume?”

“Well, Kelly, you put one arm through one sleeve and one through the other,” Brenda taunts back. You’d think with the number of costumes Kelly wears that she’d be a pro by now. 

“First of all, Hippie Witch is out,” She hisses.

“It’s not hippie witch. It’s twin peaks and it’s very in, but that doesn’t matter.”

“What does matter is that it’ll hurt Brandon,” Kelly barks back. Yeah. Like she’s ever cared about Brandon.

“Just till elections, kay, Bren?” You don’t even notice Brandon until he’s there, directly in front of you. He’s like a pop-up book from hell, “so, are you guys coming to the campaign party at Donna’s?”

“As much as we’d love to, we have to stay and house sit for Sky,” you shrug.

“Sounds thrilling,” Kelly comments. 

“Well, Kelly, one day when you’re finally grown up enough to be on your own, maybe you’ll understand having responsibilities beyond finding the best shoes to match your outfit,” you snap. 

-

“Can’t you at least leave the chair?!” You call after the man that’s been carrying out Sky’s possessions for the last twenty minutes, but your voice is raw and it’s all in vain as he carries out the last of it. “There’s nothing left!” 

“Uh, you’re something,” Oh. Jack. Or was it Mark?

“They took everything,”  You bellow, “I mean, I could’ve tried to fight them to the death for it but I’m not sure that would have done any good. The repo man knows no bounds, apparently.” 

“I know, I saw ‘em cruise by. It’s pretty awful. But hey, at least it’s only things. We’ve got what’s important. You… me, Shakespeare the fish, and some Franco-American spaghetti.” He strides into the apartment and over to the oven, to which you follow. He holds his lighter up to it, but to no avail. You jump as there’s a knock at the door. You bounce over, figuring it’s Brenda. And… well, it is. And then some. 

“What’s going on?” You ask, Jack not far behind you. 

“Y/N/N, I’m sorry, I tried to get them to go somewhere else but they wouldn’t listen,” Brenda apologizes genuinely as the group of people push their way in, “Hey, Jack.”

“So this is the fish you’re feeding while the cat’s away, huh? Classy,” Kelly smirks. Crowd after crowd file their way into the apartment every time you believe they’re about to stop. “Where’s the food?”

“Well, I’m sorry, Kelly, but if I knew you were coming I would’ve stocked the place for you!” You retort, eyes narrowing. 

“I tried calling but the phone was disconnected,” she responds and sashays over to the fridge. 

“I’m here at the Walsh campaign party,” oh god. You’d know that voice anywhere. The joyous David Silver. “It’s sort of a standup event, everyone seems to be having a great time!” David speaks professionally to the camera as he walks through the front door and into the bare living room. You give a quick wave to Scott, who’s holding the camera as David continues to lay it on thick. “And here’s the candidate’s sister! The hostess with the mostest!” Brenda storms right up to David, ripping the microphone from his hand. 

“Get out!” The room goes silent as all heads are turned to her as Jack calmly grabs the mic. 

“Uh, friends. Yeomen. Country club men. Lend me those pierced ears. Listen up, how many of you really know what this candidate stands for?” Brenda slowly approaches Brandon, who was in the middle of chatting up potential voters. 

“Do you even know anymore, Brandon? I mean, you’ve sorta turned into this processed candidate, haven’t you? Leaving any real help, any honest shot of winning behind.” 

“David!” Kelly practically catapults herself across the room, grabbing David by the arm, “Why don’t we turn on the video, okay?” Damage control, you presumed. David moves to plug the tv in, but as soon as it goes into the outlet— darkness. And not the metaphorical deep kind of darkness, but literal darkness. The power goes out. 

-

“No manager is listed! What do I do, ring all the bells?” You lament as you turn around to go back into the apartment, met by Steve at the doorway. 

He mumbles as he breezes past you, “Low-rent city, Y/N/N.”

“You’re welcome, Steve!”

“Hey, where’s the fuse box?” Oh joy, the candidate himself. 

“No clue.” 

“No offense, but you really have the apartment from hell!” Kelly snickers. And that’s your finishing touch, tonight. Between the power going out, everything getting repossessed, and Brandon and Kelly the power couple from hell, you can’t take it anymore. 

“You know, you guys just showed up!” You start, arms folded, “You just burst in, not even thinking that Brenda and I might have a life, just assuming that it would be fine to invite yourself to someone else’s apartment!” 

“Y’know, you could’ve been a little more supportive and offered the apartment,” Brandon jeers. 

“Supportive?! Give me a break! What about you, Brandon?! You’ve been so vain and self-absorbed these past two weeks that I’m not even sure you’re the same guy anymore!” You snarl out, and you can almost guarantee that all the neighbors are now privy to the drama, but at the moment you really don’t care. You try to stop the words but the more they flow out the harder they are to stop. You can feel the burning in your eyes as they well up, “and you, Kelly!” You can hear the disgust rolling off your tongue as you say her name, “You just hate when anyone besides yourself gets attention, so you decide to console yourself on Brandon! Why can’t you go for any of the millions of guys in Beverly Hills, why do you have to always go straight for your friend’s boyfriends?!” 

You pause for a moment and inhale deeply, “Look. You guys have had no problem passing me right by, so why don’t you both just keep on going and leave me the hell alone?” 

“C’mon, Y/N. Don’t do this now!” He whips you back around, his grasp firm but gentle enough that if you wanted to keep walking, you could. You look him dead in the eye as your voice softens.

“I’m sorry, it bad timing for your campaign?” 

Brandon sighs, and when the light catches his eye you can see he’s just as thrilled with this fight as you are, tears delicately rimming the edges. He releases his grip on your arm. Taking your hand in his instead, apologetically, he drops his voice down to match yours. 

“I gotta go now. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“I don’t even think I want to vote. But hey, you know what, Brandon? Congratulations. You might really have what it takes to be a politician.”

-

“Mr. Walsh, your proposals please.” 

“Uh, my first order of business will be to get rock bands every Friday at lunch.” The room breaks out in an erupting cheer as you and Brenda watch amusedly off to the side. You look down at the “Walsh for Class President” button in your hand, fidgeting with the metal clasp between your fingers as a brief chant of “Walsh! Walsh! Walsh!” starts. God, he had them eating out of his fingers at this point. 

His opponent, Michael Miller, leans into the mic. His voice rings throughout the room skeptically as the cheers settle, “How do you plan to implement this?”

“Well, Uh…” He swallows, “Contact the bands.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that. There are releases and— and permits and insurance. When I was assistant activities committee chairman—“that doesn’t sound like a real title but whatever“—I brought in bands for the prom. Are you aware of all the red tape involved?” 

“Uh…” Come on, Brandon. Say something. “No.” Uh-oh. “But you are. And that’s just one of about fifty reasons why you’re more qualified to be president than I am.” 

Your hear Kelly’s enraged whispers from behind you, “What the hell is he doing?” As you smile down at your hands you know exactly what he was doing. He was being Brandon. 

“And you certainly run a more honorable campaign. During the two weeks of total campaign madness, I set out to be an honest reputable candidate. I ended up with a vague campaign and I seriously hurt the people I love along the way. Not only that, but I’m nowhere near as experienced you as you are. And that’s the reason why I’m throwing my support to you… Mr. President.” Unanimous frustration spreads across the room, groans and everyone else’s aggravated yells sounding out. But you? You’re trying to keep your grin down. 

-

"Hey, B.” You approach him in the hallway as he skids to a stop, letting Steve wander off with Donna and Kelly.

“Oh, hey. You want to talk?" 

"I think we better,” you pause, “I can’t believe you dropped out… I mean, Steve was gonna stuff the ballot box for you and everything. He’s a real friend, that Steve.”

"I’m sorry." 

"Wait– why?" 

"You were right. I was self-absorbed. I got so wrapped up in trying to win any way that I could that in the long run all it did was push you away. I’m sorry."

"I’m sorry too,” you sigh, “as soon as things didn’t go as I planned I ran off. I think it’s safe to say we both did our share of messing up this week." 

"Me a little more so than you, but yeah. I’d say so,"  he nods in agreement. As you peer to the nearest wall, you’re met with yet another Brandon Walsh poster. You smile deviously, yanking a sharpie out of your purse. You raise the marker to the poster and begin to sketch a goatee onto his black and white face with the real one off to your side, chuckling at your immaturity. You hand the sharpie off to him so he can continue to defile his own face. "Remind me to thank Andrea for this experience, will you?" 

-

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-

Taglist: @be-patient-be-good @mpmarypoppins @bevelyhills90210 @blueoz @harleylilo88 @princess-ghost-alien @hueycat2004 @l4life @keepcalm-and-beyou​ @palefiregiver​  @rosy-pugs @bitch-imma-head-out-deactivated

[sugarbooger513]

Angel’s Rising- Chapter Two

     I slide two pancakes onto my plate just as the girls make their way into the kitchen. They both smile and sit in front of the plates I already have made for them. Lilith takes a minute to tie her hair into a high ponytail before she starts eating, but Rose already has a mouthful. I chuckle and sit across from them.

     “Girls,” I sigh and lean my face onto my hand, “can I ask you two some stuff before I get there?” “Of course, Aria! We’re so ready for you to see the class!” Rose grins widely at me. 

     “Okay. What should I watch out for? Just.. maybe some stuff that I should know so I’m not shocked when I get there.” Lilith snickers under her breath. “Kaminari is a mess. That boy doesn’t know his alphabet if he overuses that electricity quirk.” Rose turns a bit pink, but she’s quick to fire back. “Iida is the class rep. He’s a major hardass on anyone who isn’t Lilith.” 

     “Okay, okay. What about Mr. Aizawa? I seem to be stuck, ya know, with the teacher all day.” The twins look at each other with matching grins. I suddenly remember that he wasn’t pleased to hear that there are three of us. “Weeeell..” Rose looks at Lilith to finish her thought. “Mr. Aizawa tends to give the two of us detention. A lot. We actually have it today with him.” I facepalm. 

     “What the hell did you two do this time?” “I just ‘act like a moron’ apparently.” Rose laughs. “I’m a smartass.” Well, at least the two of them are honest with themselves. I sigh, making a mental note to stay after with them. “Okay, but you two haven’t told me what to watch for around him.” Lilith finishes her plate and waves me off. “He’s just moody. He likes sleep, and that seems to be his entire personality.” Rose’s next comment makes Lilith and I both choke on water. “Yeah, he’s totally someone you would date.” 

     “You’re gross, Rose. He’s like.. forty or something.” “He’s barely thirty, Lilith.” Lilith rolls her eyes and takes Rose’s plate from her. “Either way, Aria is barely twenty-two. Also, he can be an asshole.” “Girls,” I sigh and stand to take my plate to the sink, “don’t talk like I’m not right here. Rose, do not say stuff like that in front of any classmate. Lilith.. try to be a bit less.. rough around the edges.” Rose nods, and Lilith shrugs. At least I got some kind of acknowledgement. 

     The three of us walk out of the house when we hear mom start to stir upstairs. She isn’t going to be happy I made the girls something without making some for her, but I have work now. I listen to the girls bicker about a few classmates while we walk. Suddenly, my phone starts ringing, so I answer it without caring to look at the ID. Honestly, I think it’s mom calling about breakfast. 

     “What?” “Oh,” a male voice seems shocked, “Uh, bad time?” “Oh hell, I thought you were someone else! I am so so so sorry!” I facepalm as I realize that it was Aizawa calling me. Wow, I seem very rude. “It’s fine. I was just wondering if you’re a coffee drinker. I ordered one, but the woman brought me two.” I blink, slightly confused. “I mean, yeah I am.” “Good. I would hate for it to go to waste. It will be on my desk for you.” He hangs up, leaving me still confused. 

     “Who was that, Aria?” Rose budges me with her shoulder. “Yeah,” Lilith chuckles, “you seem flustered. Are you sure you’re single?” “Shut up, and yes I’m single. It was just Mr. Aizawa calling.” They both go wide eyed and look at each other. Still, they don’t press on because we make it to the school. 

     I haven’t been inside UA for a few years, so they lead the way to 1A. I suddenly remember that I’m wearing my hero uniform and feel a bit self conscious. I had to get a.. fitting body suit so that my quirk could work correctly. It definitely shows off more of my curves than I’m comfortable with. Lilith and Rose seem to notice my sudden mood shift, so they move on either side of me. I don’t know if they always remember that I’m a pro, but I don’t correct them. 

     They walk into the class ahead of em, and people automatically walk over to greet them. Of course, the first two are Kaminari and Iida. Iida notices me and waves kindly. “Did you bring them to school today?” Do they not know about me being the new assistant. 

     Before I can tell him, a gruff voice answers from behind me. “When the bell rings, you are to be in your seats.” The students hastily rush towards their seats. “Ms. Aria?” I turn and meet charcoal colored eyes. I feel my face warm a bit, but I smile and move my ginger hair from in front of my face. “Yes sir. You must be Mr. Aizawa.” I offer to shake his hand, but both of his have coffee cups in them. He seems rather unamused from my awkwardness, but he places one cup in my hand. 

     “That’s for you.” “T-thank you, sir.” He sips at his and walks over to his desk. “Class, this is Aria Beckett, or Pro Hero Doc. She-” A green haired boy jumps up excitedly and interrupts him. “Shes saved lives from any natural disaster around here! Her healing quirk is amazing, and she can even make it shoot from her hands, and turn into a bright light to blind people!” I flush heavily from someone actually knowing about my quirk. I’m certainly a more local hero. It’s weird to me having any attention.

     “Sit down, Midoryia. However, Ms. Aria is the new teacher’s assistant in this class, so be polite to her. Just remember, she can also expel you guys.” He gives me a sideways glance before sighing. “You can introduce yourself if you want.” I shrugs, but lean against a table in front of all of the kids. 

     “Umm, Mr. Aizawa pretty much summed up my life. However, just in case you notice that I talk to these two more often, I want it to be known that my Rose and Lilith are my little sisters. I won’t treat them any different than I would the other twenty of you, but they go home with me at the end of the day.” “Holy shit,” I hear a blonde boy sigh, “you guys don’t look alike at all.” 

      “Bakugo, language.” I look back and notice Mr. Aizawa in.. a sleeping bag? Honestly, it looks like a really tall banana slug. “Al..righty then. Umm, my quirk is also called Angelic Aura. I’m nowhere near as powerful of a healer as Recovery girl, but I’m able to keep you on your feet if you need it. I don’t get as tired as she does, but you guys will get tired if I have to heal you.

     I look at Lilith and Rose, who are giving each other proud smiles. It makes my heart fill with happiness seeing it. I sip at my coffee and glance at Aizawa over the rim of my glasses. He raises an eyebrow as he wiggles out of the sleeping bag. “What are we teaching today?” “Mic will be in here for English as soon as homeroom is over. You can come with me to the Teacher’s lounge until after lunch.” I nod and give him a friendly smile. He doesn’t return it, but I notice a bit of a confused look on his face. 

     Once the blonde man walks in, I follow Aizawa out into the hall. He stays quiet, sipping at his coffee as he leads down the hall. Once we get into the teacher’s lounge, he kicks the door shut and walks over to a couch. “So,” he plops down and let out a yawn, “can I ask for some help grading?” “Of course, Mr. Aizawa.” I sit beside him and take a stack of papers from beside his feet. He sighs as he digs out two pens and passes one to me. 

     It’s quiet with the two of us grading. I mean, there’s the occasional discussion of if they ‘technically’ got one or two right, but that’s all. Once we get to the English papers, both of us sigh. “I need a headache break.” I laugh at him, but he doesn’t look amused. Oops. I take the last few papers from him and start reading. “I was just-” “I can do them, sir. There’s tylenol in my bag if you need some.” He seems genuinely shocked from the offer, but declines it quietly. When I finish grading Tenya’s, which was really easy, I glance at Aizawa again. He has his head in one hand, rubbing his temple.

     When I put them on the table in front of me, he glances at me. “Finished?” “No, I just have my sisters’, but you look in pain.” “I’m fine.” His attitude makes me chuckle a bit. “Don’t snap at me when I’m being friendly, sir. Come here.” He doesn’t budge, so I scoot closer to him. “What are you-” “Shh.” I swear, he’s acting like Lilith used to when I would help with her migraines. Still, he doesn’t move when I place both of my hands on the side of his head.

     I can never get over how bright my quirk glows. “Close your eyes, or you’ll go blind.” He listens with a grunt. As soon as my quirk starts working, I see him physically relax. It doesn’t take long to help a headache, so I pull my hands away. His eyes open, and I notice that he seems.. brighter. “T-thank you, Doc.” “Call me Aria, please.” 

     “Aria? I knew I recognized that glow!”

@katgalle​ 

[aurafanfiction]

Life Is Hard (One Shots) Part 3 Chapter Three: Closure

A/N: Just a little drabble about what I hope happened after Della grounded Louie in this last episode. Don't get me wrong, he deserved it, but the boys have gotten away with a lot before and never got in trouble, so it came off a little harsh when Della yelled at him. I needed closure damn it. It would have been nice to see Della assure Louie that she still loves him or something. So I wrote it myself. Please enjoy as always.

Louie ran upstairs thoroughly embarrassed at being punished in front of everyone he loved. He slammed the door to his bedroom on his way in before jumping face first onto his mattress. This whole thing was so stupid, he was stupid for even thinking he could impress his mom this way. The youngest triplet didn’t know what else to do, so he screamed as loud as he could into his pillow, hoping that none of his family could hear him. He screamed until his yelling turned into pitiful sobbing, and he just lay there soaking his pillow in tears. Clutching his blankets tight in his fists.

He couldn’t help but think about how much his mom probably hated him. He almost got his brother’s killed, she was right to punish him for it, deep down he knew that, but he was so angry that she thought she had the right to do something like that. Uncle Donald was their parent, she was barely anything to them yet. What gave her the right to start doling out punishments to him or his brothers when she hadn’t even been there their whole lives? She didn't even talk to him about why he stole that stupid tub.

Louie continued to cry, he couldn’t help it. He didn’t even care if he was grounded forever for putting his family in danger, his mom had yelled at him, in front of everyone. Why would she do that unless she really did hate him? Every last thing about this was stupid! He just wanted her to be proud of him. Instead he had messed everything up horribly.

Della sat in her bedroom with her hands covering her face. It had been only a half hour since she had yelled at Louie and grounded him in front of everyone. He deserved to be punished, no doubt, but she couldn’t help but feel like she needed to talk with him. The look of pure hatred on his face when he reminded her that she did exactly the same thing to them ten years ago, and again when she told him he was grounded. The last thing she wanted was for any of the boys to hate her, she just needed them to be safe, and Louie had gone overboard this time.

She realized that she had exploded on him a bit in front of all the others. That wasn’t really fair of her to embarrass him like that, she had just been so angry. There had to be more to Louie’s behavior than pure desire for money, she just wondered how she could possibly get the answer.

“Maybe I should go talk to him.” She said aloud to herself. “Just to see if he’s okay after everything.”

Louie heard the knock on his door and immediately told his visitor to go away. The last thing he wanted to do was have anyone see him like this. Still, whomever it was entered the room anyway, and he heard a soft voice from the doorway.

“Louie, honey, can I please come in?” Della asked him, noticing that he was busy crying into his pillow, something she had done herself a lot whenever she got punished as a kid.

After a second came a muffled reply. “No you yelled at me in front of everyone!”

“Sweetie, please, I just want to talk about what happened. You’re right, I shouldn’t have yelled at you in front of the others, or at all, I was just so hurt when I saw your brother’s vanish right before my eyes…”

Louie continued to cry, seemingly trying to ignore his mom’s speech.

“I know you didn’t mean for any of it to happen Louie.” She assured him, holding back her own tears. Della placed her hand on Louie’s shoulder and was a little hurt when he recoiled from her touch. “I’m sorry that I yelled at you honey.”

She sat down beside him and her youngest son scooted away a little. Della waited patiently trying to give Louie a chance to speak his mind. After several minutes she tried again. “Please talk with me Louie, tell me what’s been bugging you, this isn’t all about getting rich, is it?”

Louie finally manged to choke out a response. “I really was sorry mom and you still yelled at me, I just let everything get out of hand, it wasn’t supposed to happen like that… you hate me don’t you?”

Della’s eyes went wide, and she felt the tears she was holding back starting to come forth. That was the last thing she thought he would say. She was ready for him to hate her for a while, but what had she done wrong to make her boy think for a second that she could hate him? She couldn’t stand it anymore and grabbed her youngest, pulling him into a hug. Louie struggled for a moment but let himself fall into her embrace shortly after, crying into her shoulder.

“Louie, my sweet mischievous little boy, I will never hate you do you hear me?” She soothed, rubbing her boy’s back gently. That always helped her calm down when Scrooge did it years ago.

“You’ve barely even been in our lives for a month, and already you’ve gone on these cool adventures with Dewey, and bonded with Huey over nerd stuff. I haven’t done anything with you except cause trouble and make you mad at me. I would understand if you did hate me.” Louie cried.

She pulled Louie away so she could look at him better. His eyes were red and swollen from all the tears tonight. She could tell that he really was sorry for what happened today. Man, why was parenting so much harder than fighting evil monsters? She wiped his eyes with her sleeve.

“Louie, I mean it, I will always love you no matter how naughty you are sometimes. That’s just what it means to be a kid, you are allowed to make these mistakes. Do I wish they weren’t almost kill your family mistakes, well sure, but no one said this family had normal problems. But I have to be the big bad mom who dishes out punishments when it’s called for, and it definitely was tonight. That’s how you learn, and stay safe in the future. I promise that next time it will involve less yelling. You know? I honestly thought you would be the one who would hate me.” She admitted.

The youngest triplet thought for a moment. “I don’t. I was really mad at you earlier, but I think I cried out all the madness by now.” Louie told her, which got a little chuckle from his mom.

“Yeah there’s nothing like a good cry to make you feel better sometimes. Look I know I barely have a right to call myself your mom yet, we’re all still getting used to this. Having to punish you was the hardest thing I’ve had to do, because I want you boys to like me, but I want you to stay safe more than anything else.”

“I understand why you grounded me mom, I deserve it, Uncle Donald would have done the same if he was here. But you took a dangerous risk too! And you ended up leaving us all and tearing the family apart.”

“And you don’t think I had my own punishment? Ten years of having to be away from my babies is worse than any grounding I could possibly give you.” Della wiped one of her own tears away.

Louie glanced at the ground. “I guess I never thought of it that way.” The youngest admitted. “I just want to spend a little more time with you is all. I just thought if I could get a lot of treasure I could impress you, like Huey with his knowledge or Dewey’s adventuring skills. I’m not really good at any of that, but I didn’t think anyone might get hurt because of it. I guess you didn’t think you’d hurt us either.”

Della ran her hand through Louie’s hair. “Honey, you don’t have to be good at any of that to try to impress me. But you’re right, I haven’t had time one on one with you yet like your brothers. I’m sorry if I made you feel like the odd one out and that you had to do something dangerous to bond with me. Tell you what, why don’t we go grab something to eat,wherever you want, just me and you and we can get to know each other. You can ask me anything you want as long as I get to ask you anything, cause there’s so much I want to know about each of you.”

“I can’t go anywhere, aren’t I grounded.”

“Oh don’t get me wrong you’re still grounded mister, you can’t disrupt the entire time stream and get off that easily.” Della assured him sternly before taking a softer tone. “But I’ll make an exception tonight for this. I think we both really need some quality time just me and you.”

Louie nodded before grabbing his mom in a tight hug. “We really do, thanks mom.”

A/N: I really do hope that we get some good Della/Louie moments in the upcoming episodes. This one was awesome but left a bad taste in my mouth at how she singled out Louie in front of everyone. Like Huey and Dewey stole a submarine once people! Where is the justice! :P My point is that Louie is a sweet little green bean and I need the writers to let him be happy for a second. Let me know what you guys thought about this episode in the comments. Can't wait to see what happens next. ~ Aura

[banesapothecary]

invisible smoke

read on ao3

David is always glad to see Patrick when he returns to the store from visiting vendors. Relieved, even. But today it’s on another level, and as soon as he hears the door open, he feels like he can breathe for the first time in hours.

Of course, it’s really only for the last several minutes that his breathing has been shallow and that he’s been desperately trying to contain the tears in his eyes. Tear tracks are not a good look and definitely not correct, especially not while customers are in the store.

David doesn’t know what the woman is saying anymore. He’d been trying to focus on her words, but right now, nothing makes sense except for two facts:  (1) he cannot cry in the middle of the store and (2) Patrick is here, so everything will be okay.

Probably. The little girl is still crying, so that isn’t exactly working in his favor.

“What’s going on?” Patrick’s voice breaks through the woman’s complaints and the child’s screams, still a little muffled by the apparent invisible cotton that has wrapped itself tightly around David’s ears.

Patrick is beside him now. David can feel him there, can feel Patrick’s hand lightly gripping his shoulder. David closes his eyes for a second and focuses on the warmth, breathing just a little bit easier. Patrick’s hand squeezes once, twice, three times, the pressure grounding David more.

When he opens his eyes, he can hear again, though he isn’t sure he wants to. The little girl seems to have calmed down a bit. Maybe Patrick’s magical calming effects work on everyone, not just him. They need to practice Patrick’s magical abilities, David decides, since they don’t seem to be working on the woman just yet.

She’s still yelling. David wants to yell, too.

The thing is, he knows it wasn’t entirely his fault. The second Patrick had left earlier for his errands, an influx of customers flooded the store, and David was alone to help all of them. For two hours straight, he’d bounced around the store frantically trying to explain to Roland what exactly body milk was while avoiding his terribly made innuendos on the subject, reading aloud every ingredient in every single one of the lotions they carried to an elderly woman who kept saying he reminded her of someone he’d never heard of and probably never would again, and rushing back to the register before the checkout line extended out the door.

To say David was stressed all day was an understatement—and that’s true on a regular, Patrick-with-him-in-the-store-all-day kind of day. The Richter scale couldn’t measure the true extremity of David’s stress levels today.

His best efforts to keep everything under control had obviously failed, because now there’s a screaming and probably hurt child in his store, with her equally loud and more than definitely angry mother and it‘s his fault.

Patrick’s never going to leave him alone in the store again. Clearly he can’t be trusted—after all, he’d caused this, and—

Patrick’s hand squeezes his shoulder again, and David realizes his breath is coming way too hard and his heart is beating way too fast. Again. A heart attack, he’d thought the first time it happened. He still isn’t entirely convinced that isn’t what afflicts him, no matter what Ted says.

“I got this,” Patrick murmurs under his breath, and David knows the woman didn’t hear it over the sound of her own angry voice. David nods, still not looking at Patrick but utterly relieved. He slips away quietly into the backroom, hearing Patrick interject calmly as he goes and, for the first time in what feels like hours, the woman falls silent.

The couch is still in the backroom, though its use is now far more PG since Patrick got his own apartment, but David ignores it. Instead, he presses himself into the corner of the room and sinks down to the floor, hugging his knees and shutting his eyes tightly enough to see colors behind his eyelids.

He tries to slow his breathing, remembering the breathing technique Ted had shown him and the calming techniques Patrick had helped him research after the first time he had a panic attack in front of his fiancé.

But Patrick’s hand isn’t on his shoulder anymore, and his warmth isn’t at David’s side, and he feels so alone again and he can’t breathe and he can’t see and he can’t think and—

The colors behind his eyelids have been replaced. Instead, the afternoon replays itself over and over, and David wants to rip his hair out. (He doesn’t. Even in the midst of a panic attack, he’s all too aware of how carefully he’d styled it that morning.)

He’s in the front of the store again, with the crowd and the many voices and questions and people needing to be checked out and the items needing to be restocked. He’s running himself thin, and David really hopes Patricks comes back soon. Relief floods through David once the store is empty again because everyone left satisfied, and he did it. He survived. And then David’s on the step ladder again, because the candles on the top shelf need to be restocked right then while he has a chance and he’s thinking about it, and the Apothecary’s door opening suddenly startles him a bit and he loses his balance and manages not to fall flat on his ass by some miracle, but instead he bumps into something and then the sound of wails fill the store, and—

“David.”

Patrick’s voice cuts through the cloud of panic. David’s eyes shoot open, meeting Patrick’s concerned gaze. Patrick squeezes his arm, and David tries not to worry about how he didn’t even realize Patrick was touching him until right then. Instead, he forces himself to copy his fiancé’s long and even breaths.

“What happened after I left?” David rasps when he finally feels like he can breathe again. The air feels like heaven in his lungs.

Patrick shakes his head, raising the hand not on David’s arm to cup his cheek. “Are you okay?”

David shrugs.

Patrick frowns, leaning in to press a kiss to David’s forehead before standing. David immediately misses his warmth, but he doesn’t have to miss it long. Patrick reaches a hand down to pull David up, who takes it without a second thought and doesn’t disentangle their hands once he’s standing. He’s pulled into a hug, feeling the soft press of Patrick’s lips against his neck and David wants to cry all over again.

“Let’s go home,” Patrick murmurs against David’s sweater.

“But the store—” David protests, albeit weakly.

“Doesn’t matter right now,” Patrick finishes for him, leaving no room for discussion. David is grateful. He hides his face in a blue button down that smells like home.

The drive home is mostly quiet. Patrick turned the radio’s volume down as low as it could go while still being audible, so every now and then David catches a few lyrics and melodies over the sound of the engine. He doesn’t realize until they’re pulling into their apartment complex’s parking lot that the music is playing from one of his playlists. It’s the one he made a few months ago of all the songs that make him feel happy. Patrick had smiled when David first shared it with him. Patrick didn’t know that most of the songs on the playlist reminded David of him.

They’ve been holding hands for the whole drive, and David tightens his grip at the realization. Patrick squeezes back, looking back at David with a question in his eyes as he pulls into a parking space. David doesn’t say anything as Patrick leads him upstairs, hands still intertwined. The silence is comforting, somehow, and he loves it.

Patrick kisses his cheek once they’re inside the apartment, so tenderly David thinks he might break. “Why don’t you go shower and change, and I’ll order some pizza,” he suggests, and David falls a little more in love.

He nods and says, “I love you,” because it’s the only response he’s capable of formulating right now. So he showers, and the water is probably definitely way too hot, but David can’t bring himself to care. It feels good against his skin that’s been shivering, even though it wasn’t exactly cold. When he dresses, he puts on an old pair of dark blue sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt, both Patrick’s. If Patrick notices, he doesn’t mention it when David returns to the living room, instead handing him a box of the just arrived pizza and pulling him down on the couch next to him. Flipping channels, Patrick finally settles on an episode of House Hunters, and David pretends not to notice Patrick’s smile when he starts making the occasional snide comments about the homes’ aesthetics.

David finds himself curled into Patrick’s side once they finish eating. It’s good, it’s comforting, and for the first time since Patrick left the store that morning, David is starting to feel like himself again. He’s feeling human again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Patrick asks into David’s hair.

“No,” David whines, but he does. “There was a big rush right before they came in, and I’d finally gotten everything sorted and I was still very stressed about the whole thing, and I was on the step ladder.” Patrick’s hand found its way to David’s hair while he was talking and now he’s playing with the ends of it. David shivers at the sensation, scooting closer. “And the door caught me off guard, and I barely stopped myself from falling off the ladder, but I knocked her down. I didn’t mean to, I swear, I really—”

“David,” Patrick interrupts, pressing a kiss into his hair. “I know you didn’t. And so did her mom.”

David shakes his head. “No, she hates me. You heard her.”

“She was stressed, too, and freaked out because her kid was screaming. She doesn’t hate you, David,” Patrick says, running a hand up and down David’s arm.

David hums noncommittally. “It doesn’t matter, anyways. It’s not like I’m gonna be running the store by myself anymore.”

Patrick is quiet for a moment, hand still on David’s arm. “What are you talking about?”

David wants to hide, but he forces himself not to. “I fucked up today. Clearly I can’t be trusted alone in the store, anymore.” His voice is smaller than he likes and he turns to tuck his face into the crook of Patrick’s neck. His fiancé knows him better than that, though, and gently lifts David’s chin.

“Look at me, baby,” Patrick says, voice soft but firm. David tries not to melt at the pet name, but it’s been a long, terrible, no good day, and he really, really loves Patrick. “You did not fuck up today.” His eyes search David’s, no room for argument in them. David fights the urge to look away as Patrick continues. “You lost your balance on the step ladder, and the woman shouldn’t let a toddler run rampant through a store on her own anyways. It was not your fault, David.”

David can’t see again, but this time the tears aren’t from distress. “Okay,” he whispers after a moment.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Patrick repeats, prompting David with a raise of his eyebrows.

David sighs, rolling his eyes a bit just for the dramatics. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“And you are more than capable of running the store by yourself,” Patrick adds, nodding when David raises an eyebrow at him.

“And I am more than capable of running the store by myself,” David repeats dutifully, if not a bit sarcastically. Patrick’s words mean a lot to him—too much, after today. David wonders if too many emotions in one day might send him into a coma.

Patrick laughs at the expression on David’s face. “Good,” he says, kissing his forehead again. “Glad we got that settled. I think it’s movie night. Your turn to pick.” If they weren’t already engaged, David might’ve asked Patrick to marry him.

[unmanageable-day]

[11.09AM]

"This is so weird, okay? I can't believe my friend is dating my older sister." Johnny nagged as he opened the door and found Jaehyun flashing a wide smile in front of his house.

"I love you too, Johnny," Jaehyun answered, chuckling and handing him over a bag of cheese burger. He entered Johnny's house casually without even waiting for the owner to let him in.

"Don't you think you can bribe me," Johnny said dramatically, yet his hands were already busy opening the paper bag. "Vivian! Jaehyun is here!" he called for his sister.

"I can hear you clearly, Johnny, you don't have to shout like that," his sister hissed as she went out from her room, being dramatic as well but less dramatic than her brother. "And, Seo Youngho, didn't I tell you to not call me Vivian?" She approached her giant little brother and gave him light slaps on his arm. She wanted to pinch his cheeks or ears, but Johnny was saved because he was much taller.

"Okay, okay. I get it, Ayoung noona," he whined that he gave Jaehyun eye signal to get his sister out quickly.

Jaehyun chuckled at the usual bickering scene between Ayoung and Johnny. Ayoung turned to Jaehyun who were ready to greet her with a smile that his dimples popped out. "You ready?"

Ayoung nodded, also smiling wide at her date.

"Speaking of which, it would be nice too if you call me with my real name, instead of Jaehyun," Jaehyun shyly said once they hopped into Jaehyun’s car.

Ayoung smiled at him. "Okay, Yuno."

Jaehyun, aka Yuno let his hand slowly reached Ayoung's before he turned on the car machine. His expression couldn't lie when he got to hear his name called with such a sweet, loving voice.

[11.42PM]

"I don't want to say good bye," Yuno muttered as he tightened his grip on Ayoung's hand. He stopped by at a park with playground nearby Ayoung’s house after spending a great time at an underground jazz café.

"Why don't you go with me upstairs? I'm sure Johnny is still wide awake."

"And let Johnny hyung beat me up? No, thank you," he joked.

Ayoung chuckled.

"This is perfect anyway," Yuno said as he scanned the surrounding. The playground was completely empty as the time showed past eleven at night. After making sure nobody around, Yuno slightly pulled her closer and sneaked his arms around Ayoung's waist. "And I can't do this if Johnny is around," he whispered as he, bending his lower body to match her eye level, put his forehead against Ayoung's.

Thanks to the night sky, Ayoung could hide her blushing cheeks. She only drew a shy smile as she tried to look at Yuno in the eyes, her hands holding onto his upper arms.

The lovebirds, drowning in each other's minds, spent minute after minute without words in the same position until their phones rang at the same time, startling both of them. Yuno let loose his embrace, but didn't completely let go of his girl. After taking his phone out of his pocket, he put one arm around Ayoung's shoulder and let her lean on him.

"Wow, the group chat is a mess at this hour. And Johnny is already threating me," told Yuno while scrolling up and down his phone screen.

"He is indeed. Should I tell him we're here?" she playfully asked as she found Johnny's rants via text in her phone as well.

"You gotta be kidding."

Ayoung chuckled as she hugged him from the side. "Aigoo, our Yuno~"

Again, he blushed from hearing his name called.

"It's almost 12. You should go back home, Yuno." She affectionately fixed Yuno's fringe. "Or... how about staying over?" she teased again.

Yuno chuckled this time. "If sleepover, I'll go with Doyoung and Mark so Johnny won't go after me."

"Okay, I'll invite the others for dinner tomorrow, and you can stay over."

[6.25PM]

Ayoung was busy cooking in the kitchen after managed to trick Johnny to go grocery shopping. She also succeeded surprising him that they were going to host a dinner with his buddies. So now he was made use for his labor to tidy up the living room and arrange the tables and plates.

"Remind me again why do we suddenly hold a dinner event?" he groaned as he pushed the sofa to one side.

"Just think of it as a late birthday party for you, since I wasn't around and you were busy as well," she blabbered.

"Okay, that doesn't make any sense. What's with the other guys?"

"It's just the form of my gratitude to them for taking good care of you." Ayoung basically just said anything. She knew everything came out of her mouth did not make any sense at all. "Anyway, our mom and Taeyong's mom just sent us a lot of food. You and I know very well we don't eat often at home. So it's best to share, right?"

Johnny shut his mouth, kind of agree-not-agree. "You're being ridiculously nice after going out with Jaehyun," he mocked, which got himself a loving silence treatment.

Taeyong, Doyoung, Ten and Mark came first. Both Johnny and Ayoung welcomed them cheerfully and gave them a big hug as if they hadn't met for so long, while they literally just saw each other 3 days ago. Taeil, Haechan, Yuta and Yuno came a bit later. Both house owner greeted their guests the same way, yet after Taeil, Haechan and Yuta, Johnny blocked Ayoung's way to Yuno. Instead, Johnny didn't let Yuno go from his bear hug. Ayoung just rolled her eyes and left her brother with her boyfriend.

"I know you miss me but can you please let go of me now?" Yuno spoke in the midst of searching for some oxygen.

"I'm not letting you go today," Johnny said with a scary aegyo as he slightly dragged Yuno to the living room with a bit force.

"He really gets jealous ever since you start dating with Jaehyun, Noona," Taeyong commented, giggling at the two giants fighting over nothing.

"You mean being overprotective even more than he already is," she scoffed as she took out fruits from the fridge.

Mark who was next to Taeyong went straight for the watermelon that Ayoung already prepared specially for him. Just because she was very fond of the baby brother.

"It is still funny that he never changes his profile photo, so everyone still thinks he's not single," Mark added as he stuffed his mouth with watermelon cubes. The photo Mark mention was pretty much a public secret. It was a picture of her and Johnny at a beach, taken several years ago during a family vacation, with a pose that didn't really portray siblings relationship. Johnny's arm circling around Ayoung's waist, his smiling face captured in candid, and Ayoung resting her hand on Johnny's upper belly while showing her side body profile but her face beaming directly into the camera. Anybody would absolutely misunderstand them for being a couple. Not to mention the outfit they wore in the photo had similar patterns.

Ayoung could only let out a bitter laugh. Johnny intentionally put that picture as his profile in chat messenger, so he could make an excuse if there's anyone suggested him for a blind date. These boys knew Ayoung had the same picture as her profile, and they laughed at her and it was all thanks to Johnny who always changed Ayoung's profile, to the extent Ayoung was too frustrated to change it again. So she just let Johnny do whatever he wanted. It kinda 'helped' her in a way that no men messed with her. Same with her brother, at least nobody interfered her love life and told her to go for a blind date. If someone asked about the guy in the photo, she could just make up some stories that they were in long distance relationship.

And one day came Jung Jaehyun, boldly brought himself before her and asked her out while no one dared because of her brother. The boys were pretty amused because Johnny often joked that he wouldn't introduce his sister to any of his members. He preferred someone older and he always mentioned someone like Kim Suho or Do Kyungsoo. That was pretty much the history explaining the current condition of the complicated relationship between Johnny and Jaehyun.

"Yo, Jay," Ten greeted Jaehyun who finally managed to escape.

"Thank goodness Lucas and the little brothers rang the bell," Yuno exhaled deeply as he joined the others. He immediately approached Ayoung who was deeply engaged in conversation with Taeyong,

Mark and Doyoung. "Hey," he greeted.

"Yuno," Ayoung brightly greeted him back and went into his arms. He smiled warmly at her and totally forgot for a second that it wasn't only the two of them in the room.

"Omo.. did she just say 'Yuno'?" Doyoung gasped dramatically.

"'Yuno'?" Ten repeated loudly and he couldn't help but cackling. The others started to parrot him and the name 'Yuno' was echoing.

"Vivian Seo! I did not raise you to behave like this!" Johnny exclaimed from the other corner in the room. His hands were on his waist, officially starting the drama. But everyone in the room couldn't really hold their laughter, including Jung Yuno who was safe in Ayoung's care.

Ayoung herself? She pretended not to hear him as she scooted even closer against Yuno, publicly showing affection, cuddling with him just to make Johnny even more frustrated. She even merong-ed at her younger brother several times.

[sociallyawkward--fics]

30, 61, 67, for the drabble prompt thing, please? Ilysm, ❤️💛💚💙💜 ~S

Woops sorry, I was hoping you could do prinxiety? My apologies. ~S

Love you too, and it’s no problem don’t worry about it! I just wanna make sure you get what you want!

(despite this being an angst fest of a prompt I’m gonna do everything in my power to make it as fluffy as possible as an exercise lol, hope you don’t mind) (oh shoot this has three prompts so I can’t just name it after the dialogue prompt I actually have to be creative shoot)

I’ll just name it “I told you not to fall in love with me.”

30. “Is that blood?”61. “I told you not to fall in love with me.”67. “If you don’t want to talk about it then say so. Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.”

Word Count: 2,920 (this is not a drabble anymore. Whoops.)

Warnings: Blood, mentions of (physical) fighting, slight self-deprecation, mentions of alcohol/getting drunk (Roman is a bartender), swearing, mentions of past bullying

Truly, Roman didn’t expect anyone to be up. Or, at least, not in the living room. And he definitely didn’t expect it to be Virgil, the introvert king.

He’d gotten home very late (way later than he’d told Patton he’d get home) and simply wanted to sleep. Well, raid the first aid kit in the hallway closet, nab some ibuprofen from the kitchen, and then sleep.

So no, he did not expect Virgil to be in the living room at two in the morning, and he definitely did not expect Virgil to practically shout “Is that blood?!” as he sneaked through the front door.

Roman was across the room in second, clamping a hand over his mouth.

“Shhh!” He hissed. “Please don’t wake Patton or Logan.”

Virgil stared at him, shoving the hand away from his face. “I knew you sometimes got in late from work,” he started slowly, his eyes moving from the bloody nose and lip to the few cuts on his arms, leading to blood staining his white shirt, “but I didn’t know you came home like this.”

Roman winced. “Look, it’s not a big deal. I don’t even know why you care.”

“Roman, we have lived together for over a year. Of course I care.”

“Whatever.” He was digging through the hall closet for the first aid kit now, trying to disregard Virgil’s words.

He knew his roommates weren’t exactly fond of him (well, except Patton. The man was an actual ball of fluffy sunshine and candy and all things good in the world), he was a bit too loud, a bit too abrasive, a bit too dramatic. A bit too everything.

Virgil appeared behind him and grabbed the first aid kit from a shelf above his head. Roman turned to glare at him.

“C’mon,” Virgil said, already making his way into the kitchen.

“I can do it myself,” Roman grumbled, but followed Virgil anyway.

“I’m sure you can. But this way I can torture you with antiseptic on those cuts and make you tell me what happened.”

Roman winced at the thought. He would never admit it if asked, but he usually skipped on the antiseptic when cleaning himself up. He hated the stuff.

Virgil flopped heavily into a chair and gestured to the one across from him. “Sit. You look like you need to be in bed as soon as possible.”

“Does that mean we can skip the talking?” Roman asked hopefully.

Virgil set the first aid kit on the dining table with a heavy sigh and leaned over to rub his forehead. After a few moments, he sat back in his chair, giving Roman a look.

“Only because I think we’re both pretty exhausted. But I am corning you after breakfast tomorrow, don’t even try to run.”

Roman’s shoulders slouched. He couldn’t tell if it was relief or disappointment. Probably both.

He scooted forward when Virgil gestured for him to, causing them to be sitting in a very awkward position when he was where Virgil wanted him.

Virgil’s own knees were open wide to accommodate for Roman’s legs, which we practically touching the seat of Virgil’s chair. Virgil was leaning in to get a better look at Roman’s facial injuries. They were inches apart.

“Um?”

“Fuck off if you want help.”

“I think I literally said that I didn’t.”

“Fuck off because I’m helping.”

Roman snorted and tried to ignore how weird it felt to be this close to Virgil, especially when it felt like all they did was avoid each other.

After a few more moments, Virgil opened up the first aid kit and wet a few cotton balls with the antiseptic. Roman resisted to urge to lean away when Virgil raised one towards him, but Virgil caught the look on his face.

“I’m very sorry,” he said seriously, before very gently dabbing at the wound on Roman’s lip.

Roman sucked in a harsh breath at the sting, and Virgil winced.

“Sorry,” he said again.

Despite Virgil’s earlier comments about the antiseptic, he was strangely gentle, dabbing carefully with the cotton balls and turning Roman’s face this way and that with a feather light touch on his chin. He even managed to find a cut Roman had no idea he had in his eyebrow (quite an uncomfortable place to have a cut).

It was strange for Roman, letting someone else take care of him for a change. Sure, Patton checked up on them all frequently, and more often than not fed them, but he’d never had anyone patch up his wounds for him before.

He kind of liked it.

He liked how gentle Virgil was. How careful he was. How hard he was trying to make sure the wound was clean before bandaging it.

Letting someone else take care of him like this? It felt kind of good. Especially since he usually didn’t bother taking this good care of himself.

Virgil moved down to his arms, still using the same tenderness as before.

Despite the sting of the antiseptic, Roman’s eyelids began to droop. He slouched in his chair even more, causing Virgil to scoot forward again with a huff.

“You’re good at this,” Roman muttered without thinking

Virgil snorted. “Let’s hope it doesn’t turn into a regular thing.” Then he paused, looking into Roman’s eyes. “This doesn’t happen often, does it?”

Roman looked down, focusing on his clasped hands. “Often enough.”

In his peripheral, he saw Virgil shake his head with a tense expression. “Maybe this will become a regular thing.”

Virgil wrapped a last bandage around Roman’s arm and sat back. “Just don’t fall in love with me,” he joked

Roman scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

Virgil chuckled. “Get to bed. Rest up for your interrogation.”

Roman groaned. “And if I bolt?”

“Good luck with that,” Virgil replied with an eye roll.

And then he was gone.

“Shit he’s fast,” Roman muttered, before making his way upstairs and into bed, not even bothering to change out of his work clothes.

The next morning, Roman woke up sore all over. He groaned and rolled over in bed to check his alarm clock. It was past noon.

“Shit!” He cried, sitting up much too quickly. “Fuck!” He cried out as his head swam and muscles protested.

Seconds later, his door opened without warning.

“Sounds about right,” a deep voice replied, and Roman jumped.

Turning, he saw Virgil leaning against his doorway, breakfast tray in hand.

“Patton left this for you before heading to work. I told him not to wake you because you got in from work late.” He cocked his head. “Well, early.”

Virgil fully entered his room and kicked the door shut. “Now for your interrogation.”

Roman flopped back on his bed with a sigh. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Virgil put the tray on his nightstand with a bit more force than necessary, almost causing the orange juice to spill. “Bullshit. You literally told me that you come home from work bloodied and beaten ‘often enough.’”

“I was tired,” Roman tried. “I wasn’t making sense.”

“You were tired,” Virgil deadpanned. “Your guard was down, making you less likely to bullshit me.”

When Roman didn’t respond, Virgil sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. Roman eyed him warily.

“Sit up and eat, Prince.”

“And what about you, Eckstein?”

Virgil wrinkled his nose. “See, calling me by my last name doesn’t work as well as calling you by yours. Eckstein? Gross.”

Roman sat up, more slowly this time, and glared. “Did you eat?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mom. Patton made me.”

“Good.” 

Roman dug into his breakfast. Coffee cake, fresh fruit, orange juice. Patton knew just what they liked.

“When I was in high school, kids beat up on me a lot.”

Roman choked on his food. He expected an interrogation, not Virgil’s life story.

“I was weird, different. They didn’t like it. It happened often enough that I got good at patching myself up.” Virgil looked up from where his gaze had been focused on the bed, finally meeting Roman’s wide eyes. “So I know my way around a fist aid kit.”

“What-” Roman tried, but Virgil cut him off with a fierce look.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, then say so. Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.”

“It’s not like that at all,” Roman said, leaning closer to Virgil. “I swear. My problems are nothing compared to what you just said. It’s not important.”

“Just because your problems are different from mine, it doesn’t negate their importance. It doesn’t mean that it’s not bad.” Then, quieter: “It took me a long time to learn that.”

Roman sighed and set aside his half eaten breakfast.

“It was just some drunk dumbasses.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. 

“A couple of assholes got a bit too drunk. They were making a few women… uncomfortable. My boss couldn’t deal with it because they would’ve done the same to her. She asked me to handle it. Things got a little out of hand.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “’Out of hand,’ huh?”

“Okay, it kind of turned into a full on bar fight. One of them smashed a bottle and used it to attack me, that’s how my arms got all scratched up.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Roman-”

“The other was pretty good with his fists.”

“Roman-”

“We’re kind of on a bad side of town, no bouncers or anything, and there were no other men working that night, the women were all afraid of them-”

“Roman!”

Roman stopped. He didn’t know when he had started breathing so heavily. It wasn’t a big deal, he was overreacting, he just needed to-

Virgil grabbed his hands. “Breathe with me, okay? In for four seconds. Good, just like that. Now hold that breath for seven seconds. Now let it out for eight seconds. You’re doing great, keep going, just like that.”

After a few more minutes, Virgil had completely calmed him down. He felt a little silly.

“Sorry, I don’t know what that was.”

Virgil put a hand on his shoulder. “Roman. You have every right to react that way. I’m very sorry that happened.”

“But-”

“No, you’re allowed to feel that way. It’s not weak or stupid. It fucked you up, and that’s a completely valid way to feel.”

Roman relaxed. “Thanks, Virgil.”

Virgil squeezed his shoulder. “Finish eating, then get some more rest. I know you’ve got another shift tonight. Try to be more careful.”

Roman hummed. “We’ll see.”

From that day on, it became an unspoken agreement for Virgil to stay up at night until Roman came home. Roman had a feeling he had usually stayed up that late anyway, but had simply started spending that time in the living room to wait for him.

Most nights, Roman came home unscathed. They would share a smile, and then head off to bed. It left Roman with a warm feeling in his chest, knowing that Virgil cared.

On nights that Roman came home beat up from rowdy bar patrons, Virgil would quietly take out the first aid kit. They would arrange themselves at the dining table, much like how they’d done the first night. Virgil would patch him up with the same tenderness, a sad look in his eyes. The next morning, he would have Roman talk about it before letting him rest further.

It was a good system. It was a system that made Roman happy. And he could see that some tension had left Virgil as well.

There was only one issue, and it came to him late one night after Virgil had patched him up once more, a few months into their routine. 

His heart had been beating rapidly at Virgil’s proximity. His face flushing at the tender touches. Their teasing banter had left a fluttery feeling in his stomach. This had been happening more and more during these nights, the reactions only getting stronger and stronger.

He sat up like a shot, staring into the darkness of his bedroom. “Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuck.”

He had gone and done the one thing Virgil had told him not to do.

He’d started falling for him.

Once Roman became aware of his feelings, his reactions around Virgil only seemed to grow stronger. Maybe because he was more aware of them or their cause? He had no clue, only that it was very inconvenient.

Virgil didn’t seem to be catching on, but he’d always been a better actor than Roman gave him credit for. He never showed when things were bothering him. Or if he knew something he shouldn’t.

After all, Patton and Logan still hadn’t found out about his issues at work. The mornings after, Virgil always managed to get them to let him sleep in until the others had left for work. It was their secret.

Then, one night, Virgil wasn’t waiting for him when he got home one night. Luckily, he wasn’t injured in any way, but for Virgil to suddenly break routine after months? Something wasn’t sitting right with Roman.

He checked the kitchen. Nothing. Virgil’s room was empty as well. Roman was starting to get a little frantic. Why was Virgil missing at one in the morning?

He threw open the front door, only to almost ram into Virgil as he tried to race down the porch stairs.

“Whoa,” Virgil held out his hands and backed up a few steps. His eyes were puffy, wide, unfocused.

“Virgil?” Roman breathed out. He pulled Virgil into a hug without thinking. “Shit, where were you?”

“I-I was taking a walk.”

Roman pulled back and narrowed his eyes. “At one in the morning?”

Virgil’s own eyes widened. “Shit, it’s that late?”

“I’m home already, aren’t I?”

“Y-yeah, I guess?”

Virgil’s eyes were still darting around, breathing uneven.

“Virgil?” Roman asked, trying to get his eyes to focus on his own. “What’s going on?

“What? No. Nothing.”

“When did you leave the house?”

“It’s-it’s not important.”

Virgil shivered and glanced behind him. Roman followed his gaze but found nothing. 

“Virgil? Is there someone there? And where’s your jacket? It’s freezing!”

“I- no - What?”

Roman didn’t know what to do. He had no clue what spooked Virgil or how to help.

But he had to try.

It was time to repay a favor.

“Virgil, come inside, okay? You’re freezing.”

He place a gentle hand on Virgil’s back, leading him inside and locking the door behind them. If someone was bothering Virgil, they weren’t getting in the house.

He led Virgil into the kitchen and helped him lower himself into one of the chairs before kneeling in front of him. 

“Hey, Virgil, what’s up? Remind me of your breathing pattern. Was it four-seven-eight?”

Virgil nodded shakily.

“Okay, so let’s breathe in for four…”

It took several minutes before Virgil was able to fully get control over his breathing, though his eyes were still glassy. 

His skin was still cold to the touch, so he ran and grabbed a blanket from the linen closet and wrapped it tightly around Virgil before starting on some hot chocolate.

“So, you wanna tell me what that was about?” Roman asked.

Virgil sighed and shivered again. “Some stupid leftover shit from high school.”

After a few moments of silence, Roman prompted again. “Would you like to elaborate?”

“Some assholes I used to go to school with found my social media. They were sending me anonymous hate. And un-anonymous hate. It’s nothing.”

Roman paused in his stirring. “You blocked them, right? Virgil? You blocked them.”

Virgil winced and curled in on himself slightly.

“Virgil.”

“It’s not like they weren’t right!”

Roman turned off the stove, poured the hot chocolate into two mugs, and set one in front of Virgil. Probably with more force than necessary, based on his flinch.

“Virgil, I can tell you right now, nothing those assholes said was true. Now give me your phone.”

Virgil’s head shot up to look at him. “What?” He said incredulously.

“Give me your phone. I’m going to block them for you.”

“Wait, Roman, no-”

“Virgil.”

Virgil shakily placed his phone in Roman’s waiting hand, already unlocked. Roman went through Virgil’s social media apps (trying very hard not to look at anything and betray Virgil’s trust) until he found where the hate was stemming from, one of his tumblr sideblogs.

Roman’s blood boiled at the messages.

No one will ever love you, you’re too annoying and needy

who would care about someone like you? youre a fuckin mess!

Why do you even bother trying lol

And some much worse.

Roman blocked every single one of them, anonymous or not. He grabbed Virgil by the shoulders.

“They’re fucking wrong, Virge.”

“How would you fucking know?” Virgil said, trying to pull away, taking his phone back.

“Because I care, so those fuckers can fucking fuck off.”

He pulled Virgil into a tight hug, feeling the dampness of his tears soak through his shirt.

“Think you said ‘fuck’ enough times?” Virgil laughed weakly.

Roman scoffed. “No way, they deserve worse for even thinking about hurting you.”

After a few minutes, Virgil pulled back. “I told you not to fall in love with me.” He joked.

Roman’s eyes widened and he felt a blush spreading across his cheeks. He quickly composed himself and smirked. “Well, I never was good at following instructions.”

Virgil snickered and pulled him close again.

“Hey,” Roman said after a minute. “We’re gonna be okay.”

Virgil held him tighter. “Yeah. I think we are.”

[therumbellehappyendingaward-blog]

Summary: Ten-year-old Gideon Gold is not happy: the kids at school think Rumple and Belle aren’t his real parents, and Robin Mills is the ringleader. When the Golds set out to prove the rumors are wrong, their adventures take a surprising twist. Or do they?

Chapter 1 writer: @jackabelle73

PROMPT: BASTARD

AO3: HERE

The sound of the front door slamming reverberated through the house, followed by rapid footsteps on the staircase. Another door slammed upstairs.

Rumplestiltskin emerged from his study and frowned up the steps, wondering what had upset Gideon. At ten, he was old enough to walk himself home from school each day, and normally would enter the house quietly, hang up his coat, and seek out whichever parent was home that afternoon to beg for an afterschool treat.

Rumple walked upstairs and knocked on his son’s closed door.

“Gideon? Everything all right?”

“Fine!” came the response, in a tone of voice that said he was anything but fine.

“I thought we’d bake some cookies this afternoon, if you want,” Rumple offered.

There was a pause, long enough for him to think the bribe had worked, till Gideon responded.

“No, thank you.”

Whatever was bothering Gideon, it must be significant for him to refuse cookies. Rumple turned the doorknob and found to his consternation that it was locked.

“Gideon, open this door right now. You’re not in trouble yet, but you will be if I have to use magic to open the door.”

There was a shuffling sound before the lock clicked. When Rumple tried the door again, it opened to reveal Gideon, the considerable length of him stretched diagonally across his bed, face buried in a pillow and turned away from the door. Rumple sighed and perched on the edge of the bed, patting his son’s jeans-clad calf.

“What’s got you upset? Maybe I can help.”

There was a long pause, broken by a sniffle, which only worried Rumple more. Gideon was a happy and carefree child for the most part, which was a relief to his parents. They’d feared that the dark and brooding personality of his grown self would carry over to his second childhood, but the uninhibited giggles of their infant son had soon set them at ease. As Gideon grew, he wanted for nothing that magic or money could obtain, and as an only child, was equally rich in love and attention from his doting parents.

For the past few years, their major fear had been that he was becoming too spoiled, and they’d adjusted their parenting style in hopes that they would not raise an ungrateful tyrant. Gideon had chores at home, and also helped his parents in the pawn shop and library. In addition, Rumple was starting to teach him a few simple magic spells, but they’d established a rule from the beginning of his magical lessons… whenever a task could be accomplished without magic, Gideon was taught both methods. They wanted him to learn to control the powerful magical ability they assumed he would develop at some point, but not be reliant on it. Their son would learn to live in both the magical and non-magical worlds.

Their approach seemed to be working. Gideon was happy and secure, but also aware of the advantages he had in life. Therefore, incidents that truly tested his easy-going personality were rare. Rumple needed to find out what had caused his son to cry. He tried a different approach.

“Should I call Ms. Blanchard? Maybe she’ll tell me what happened today.”

“Don’t!” Gideon exclaimed, sitting up quickly. His face was blotchy from crying. “She can’t tell you anyway, she wasn’t even there!”

“Wasn’t there for what?”

Gideon looked down, sullen. “Nothing.”

“Son… come here.” Rumple held out an arm, and Gideon scooted under and nestled against his father’s side. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Maybe… maybe it would be better if I wait and talk to Mum.” His voice was muffled against Rumple’s suit, but his words carried clearly enough.

Rumple made himself wait a moment before replying; there were several topics that Gideon preferred to discuss with Belle. However, none of them typically reduced him to tears.

“May I ask why you can tell your mother, and not me?” he asked.

“Cause Mum won’t go all Azkaban when she finds out what Robin said!” Gideon exclaimed, before his eyes went wide and he sucked in a breath. He hadn’t meant to speak the name, that was clear.

“And what did Robin Mills say to you?” The boy opened his mouth, hesitated, and closed it again. “Gideon. Tell me now, what she said.”

“Her mom told her that… that I’m a bastard,” he mumbled, looking down.  

He took a moment to squash the fury that the word caused to flare up in him. When he thought he had it under control, he asked, “And do you know what that means?”

“Yeah. It means that you and Mum aren’t my real parents. But I know you are, and I told Robin that!”

“And you’re right. We’re your parents, and we love you more than anything.”

He hugged his son close, silently cursing Zelena Mills. He didn’t blame Robin, who was only a little older than Gideon. Robin was a child and couldn’t be held responsible for the awful lessons her mother taught her. Zelena, though… if not for the grief it would cause her daughter, Rumple would indeed be tempted to ‘go Azakaban’ on the green witch.

“I told Robin we use blood magic all the time, and magic doesn’t lie,” Gideon said, snuggling close to him again. “The spells wouldn’t work if I weren’t your son. And she said she believed me, because she knows how magic works. She sneaks in her mum’s bedroom all the time and opens things that Ms. Mills locked up with blood magic.”

“Does she?” Rumple murmured, amused by the idea of Zelena’s daughter defying her. “So if she believes you, what’s the problem?”

“She said she believed me, but other kids heard her say I’m a bastard, and now they won’t stop saying it!”

“Won’t stop saying what?” Belle’s voice came from the doorway.

“Mum!” Gideon went to her immediately, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head on her shoulder. If he kept growing at his current rate, he’d soon have to bend down to hug her like that.

“The kids at school are calling me names,” he told her.

“Oh, sweetheart… I’m sorry. Kids can be mean, you know that.” Belle stroked his hair, sending a look over his shoulder to Rumple.

“They keep calling me a bastard and saying you can’t be my real parents, because I’m going to be so tall and you two aren’t tall, and--”

“Whoa, Gideon, slow down. What do our heights have to do with anything?” Rumple asked. “Come here, son. Sit down, and tell us everything.”

With Gideon seated between them on the edge of his bed, Belle repeated the question. “Why do our heights matter, Gideon?”

“Because it’s genetic,” he explained, looking put out that he had to explain this. “We’re learning about genetics and which traits are passed down from parents to children. Both of you are short, so I should be too, but I’m going to be tall.”

“And how would your classmates know how tall you’re going to be?” Rumple asked.

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows that, Papa. All their parents told them how I showed up a week after I was born, and I was this freaky tall grown-up and tried to kill the Savior, and then I went back to being a baby again. It’s not really a secret.”

“Right… because stories like that count as normal in Storybrooke,” Belle said. “But Gideon sweetheart, your classmates are right that physical traits like height get passed down, but what they’re failing to account for, is that genetics are incredibly unpredictable. Traits can skip generations, or show up out of the blue even if no one else in the family have them.”

“So… were your parents tall?” Gideon asked, turning to Rumple.

“Ahh… no. Neither of them were much taller than me. I never met my grandparents, but I don’t think you got your height from my side.”

He turned to Belle with a hopeful look.

“I know Grandpa Moe is kind of tall… well, taller than you two, anyway. What about your mom? Or your grandparents?”

“My mother was a little taller than me, and her parents were about the same, as best I can remember. They both died when I was pretty young. But I think you’re on to something with your Grandpa Moe; he might be taller than I remember your adult self being. I think it’s his side of the family that you get your height from.”

“Oh.” Gideon thought for a moment, then brightened. “So it just skipped you, like you said!”

Rumple never thought he’d be grateful for the existence of Maurice French, but that’s exactly the emotion he felt right now. He’d always had mixed feelings about Gideon having any sort of relationship with his maternal grandfather, but had allowed it because Belle wanted it… with the caveat that they monitored that relationship closely, and would put an end to it if Maurice was being a bad influence on his grandson.

Maurice had behaved himself thus far. They’d never seen any signs that he was trying to turn Gideon against his father, which had been Rumple’s biggest concern. Moe’s good behavior may have had something to do with the two visits he received from Rumple and Belle – separately, with neither of them aware of the other’s actions till later – warning him that if he wanted a relationship with his only grandchild, he would refrain from negative comments about Gideon’s parents, their relationship, or their parenting choices.

“Yes, that’s it.” Belle was hugging Gideon with a relieved smile. “You get your height from your Grandpa Moe. So you can tell all your classmates to cease and desist, hmm?”

“But they’re not going to just take my word for it,” Gideon pointed out. “Can we do a magical blood test? If we get one of Grandpa’s hairs, and use one of mine, we can do the test and prove it with magic!”

“You shouldn’t have to prove anything to anyone, Son.”

Gideon rolled his eyes again, unimpressed with his father’s naivete. “Of course I have to prove it, Papa. It’s elementary school. If they don’t see it for themselves, it never happened.”

“But they’ll believe the story about you being a tall adult and then coming back as a baby, even though they were all babies themselves at the time and can’t possibly remember it?”

Gideon threw his hands up. “Okay, so they believe what they want to! I don’t make the rules! But can we do the blood test, please? So I don’t have to listen to the entire school call me a bastard for the next three months, or however long it takes for something else to distract them?”

“Alright, Gideon, we’ll do it,” Belle soothed, rubbing his back. Rumple shot her a look over Gideon’s head. He didn’t like the idea that his son felt compelled to prove his parentage, just to satisfy the undisciplined brats he had as classmates. Belle shot him a look back, saying pointedly to Gideon, “If it will put your mind at ease, we’ll do it.”

Resigned, Rumple nodded his agreement. Anything for their son.

“Great! Can we go right now, and ask him for the hair?”

“Ahh… well.” Belle hesitated, groping for an excuse, and Rumple came up with one smoothly.

“You can’t go, because it’s our night to cook dinner. You and me. You’re going to learn to make salmon and asparagus tonight, remember?”

“Do I have to?” Gideon whined.

“Yes,” Rumple said firmly. “You know the rules. I’ll teach you how to do things with magic, but you’re also going to learn to do things without magic. And that includes cooking. Your mum can go see your grandpa while we’re working on dinner.”

“That sounds like a great solution,” Belle beamed.

“Come along, Gideon. We should get started in the kitchen.”

Rumple ushered him out, sharing one last look with Belle as she followed him. Thank goodness they’d improved their communication from the early days of their relationship. They didn’t need to discuss it, to agree that it would be better if Gideon were not present when Maurice French was asked to help prove Gideon’s parentage. The man had restrained himself for ten years, but there was always the possibility that his deep loathing of Rumple would come out, and hurt their son.

“I’ll be right back!” Belle called from the door, and it closed behind her. Rumple urged his reluctant son into the kitchen.

“So Gideon, which do you think we should do first? Season the salmon, or trim the asparagus?”

The boy thought for a minute. “Are we going to be cooking anything in the oven?”

“As a matter of fact, we are,” Rumple answered, pleased that Gideon’s cooking lessons were starting to show results.

“So the first thing we do is turn on the oven, so it can be heating while we prep,” Gideon said, proud that he’d remembered.

“Excellent.”

They worked together, trimming the ends of the tender green asparagus and coating the salmon with olive oil, spices, and lemon juice. They decided to make dessert as well, as Gideon had been paying attention when his father asked earlier, and hadn’t forgotten the mention of cookies.

The counter was covered with baking ingredients and Rumple was adding the flour into the mixing bowl slowly as Gideon stirred it in, when he felt the tingle from his Dark One senses, telling him that he was being summoned. That hadn’t happened for a long time. What was even odder, was that his senses told him it was Belle summoning him, and she was right outside the door.

“You keep adding that flour in, a little at a time, and mixing it. I’ll be right back.”

Gideon nodded, intent on his task. Rumple wiped his hands on a kitchen towel, and slipped out the front door quietly. Belle stood on the top step, back to him, and he could tell right away something was wrong. Her shoulders were hunched, her arms wrapped around herself. She turned when he said her name and threw herself at him.

He drew her close and rubbed her back. “What’s wrong?” He held her away enough to see her face, and it was obvious she’d been crying. “What did your father say?” He would make that man pay for causing Belle to cry like this.

“He said… that the blood test wouldn’t work for Gideon, because he’s not my father,” Belle said, her voice shaking.

It took Rumple a moment to absorb her words. “Belle, I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

Belle sniffled as she spoke. “Gideon isn’t the bastard. I am.”