#while their guests play political games upstairs

[aneurinallday]

Green Eyes

Chapter 12: The Party

Shortly after, the bell rang for Christmas dinner. As the guests filed into the dining hall, the sight of a banquet greeted them - not just roast turkey but duck, goose, guinea fowl, pheasant, and quail, surrounded by roasted and scalloped potatoes, steamed and caramelised vegetables, and elegant gravy boats.

Thomas sat at the head of the table, gesturing Alec to the chair on his right. Alec took his seat without question. No speech was given - the host wasn’t in the mood, simply issuing a curt nod when it was time to tuck in.

The feast turned bitter in Thomas’s mouth. To his relief, Alec seemed oblivious to the whispers and judging looks being aimed at him - he was too busy enjoying the delicious spread, encouraging Clara to try a bit of everything. While the Shelbys were preoccupied with reputation, he had eyes only for the things he loved.

After dinner were puddings, cakes, jellies, and all flavour of ice creams; followed by copious drinks. Alec went upstairs to put Clara to bed, then returned to begin the night’s entertainment. With the band at his back, he sat at the piano and sang carols beautifully - each performance followed by a flurry of polite applause while the guests chatted and played party games.

As the evening deepened and the festive mood (and alcohol) kicked in, the audience grew more enthusiastic. The rum and brandy began to flow in earnest, and the carols were replaced by popular night-club tunes. The parlour floor filled up as an impromptu quickstep began. Alec hammered the keys with more gusto, then deserted the piano altogether and joined the guests in dancing, while the rest of the band continued to play.

He capered and twirled about the dance floor, seemingly without a care in the world, flitting from partner to partner with abandon and grabbing brandy after brandy from the drinks table. Thomas stood by the fireplace and watched.

“Hey, Tom,” John said, resting an elbow on the mantelpiece. “When were you going to tell us you’ve got a new wife?”

“Is that what it looks like to you?”

“To me and everyone else. Moving a bit fast, aren’t you? How long have you known him?”

“Longer than you knew Linda when you married her.”

“Linda was never a whore, let alone a Cobb whore.”

Thomas turned to face him, blue eyes ice-cold in the firelight.

“Alec did what he had to do. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, and he takes care of his kid. He deserves respect.”

John snorted.

“Oh, I bet he does. I bet he’s all sunshine and sweetness. And let me guess - he’s head over heels for you?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Mark my words, that boy learned his best tricks from Cobb. He’ll treat you like a king while picking your pockets.”

“You don’t know him. Now shut up and enjoy the fucking party.”

“Wake the fuck up, Tom,” John said, but Thomas was already walking away.

“Merry fucking Christmas, John,” Thomas said over his shoulder. Heading straight to the drinks table, he downed a shot of the first liquid he saw; but spotting Aunt Polly nearby, he dodged away.

Thomas sought refuge in the solitude of his study, surrounded by his bookshelves and paperwork. He poured himself a shot-glass of Irish whiskey, and stood by the dark window sipping it. He could see nothing but his own dim reflection on the glass, and beyond it, blackness.

Behind him, the door opened and Alec staggered in.

“There you are! I was looking for you,” he said, out of breath and flushed from exertion. “You disappeared. I was worried.”

“I needed a break.”

“How did I do, Mister Shelby? Did I embarrass you?”

“No.”

“Did I make you proud?”

“Yes. You sang very well.”

“I told you I would!”

The singer grabbed the open bottle of whiskey from Thomas’s desk and swigged it.

“That’s enough,” said Thomas. “I saw you at the drinks table earlier. You looked like you were trying to drown yourself.”

“What can I say? It was good brandy!”

Alec put the bottle down, then grasped Thomas’s arms and attempted to lead him in a waltz. Thomas humoured him for the sake of seeing his smile.

“I love you, I love you,” Alec slurred drunkenly, “I love you, Mister Shelby.”

Thomas snorted with amusement.

“You don’t mean that. You’re just happy and full of brandy.”

“Brandy doesn’t lie. I love you. I know I do.”

“And now everyone at this party knows it too.”

“I don’t care. Do you?”

Thomas’s head began to ache. He gently extricated himself from Alec’s grasp.

“Go and dance with someone else. I’m sure you can find a partner.”

“I don’t want to dance with anyone else. I want to dance with you. Why don’t you come back to the party?”

“I can’t fucking stand it out there,” Thomas said quietly, “All their faces. This party was a mistake.”

“Don’t say that. I’ve had a great time.” Alec let go of him and collapsed onto the chaise longue, his white shirt half-open. “What’s got into you?”

“I hate it here. I hate this house. I hate waking up in my bed every morning. Sometimes I even hate Charlie.”

“Do you hate me?”

“No. You’re the only fucking thing that’s good about this place. Otherwise I’d light a match and watch it all burn to the ground.”

“But what about all your nice things? All your books and suits and paintings?”

“What about them?”

Alec sighed and frowned. His brain, in its current whiskey-soaked state, wasn’t up to the task of comprehending Thomas’s mood.

“I know what you need,” he declared.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“Come here and I’ll show you.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

“You’re so dull sometimes. Live a little.”

“Funny coming from someone who’s barely lived at all.” The darkness began to hurt Thomas’s eyes. He downed the rest of his whiskey and turned away from the window. “You’ve got no business admonishing anyone.”

Alec sank lower onto the upholstery. He was fading rapidly.

“Come here,” he mumbled. “Come and fuck me.”

“No.”

“Don’t be a bore. I’ll make you feel better.”

“You’re drunk. Get some rest.”

“But I want you.”

Thomas approached the chaise longue and perched on its edge. He unlaced Alec’s shoes and pulled them off, placing them neatly on the floor. Alec attempted to catch hold of his hand, but missed. His arm fell limply back onto the upholstery.

“Fuck me,” he said, almost pleadingly.

“Get some rest,” Thomas repeated.

“Don’t you love me?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Does that make us family?”

“Are you sure you want to be a Shelby? It’s a rough life. Just ask our wives.”

“I don’t care.” Alec closed his bleary eyes. “You’re my family. You’re...”

He didn’t finish the sentence before falling asleep.

Thomas stroked his dark curls, trying to smoothe the mess.

“How did we get here?” he murmured, “I was just a customer. You were just a...You were just trying to survive. Yet here you are. Here we both are.”

Alec moaned indistinctly, but didn’t open his eyes.

“I bought this home for my Grace,” Thomas continued, “We were supposed to grow old and die here. This was supposed to be our place forever. Now it feels like a memorial. Like a tomb.”

His words went unheard, but he would never have spoken them out loud otherwise.

“I know I’m alone. But sometimes, when I’m with you, I forget. You make this place feel like a home again. You make it feel alive. You make me feel...”

He stopped himself. He removed his black dinner jacket and covered Alec warmly with it, dimmed the lamp, and left him in the peaceful quiet of the library.

[dweetwise]

[Riconti] What money can't buy

At a private party, Felix finds exactly what he's looking for. Rated E | Smut, d/s, mentioned drugs and homophobia 3.4k words | ao3 link

Felix didn't know why he even came to these parties.

As good as it felt to be around like-minded people and not have to hide this part of himself—the evening was invite-only and privacy was taken seriously—he always hated how forced it all seemed.

Get drunk, high or gamble away a small fortune. Pick a partner at random. Have desperate, anonymous sex. Go home and keep living your life in secret, hoping that the encounter scratched the itch until the next one.

Felix went back to scoping the room just as a man in full drag walked by. Felix had a kiss blown his way and responded with a polite nod and a tip of his tumbler of scotch—a wordless thank you, but I'm busy.

On a nearby couch, a pudgy man in a too-small suit was snorting lines straight off the coffee table. Two androgynous, petite men were by either side of him, fondling his ill-fitting Armani. 

Across the room, Felix caught the eye of a familiar face: one of his business associates, who always droned on about his wife and children, yet who was now accompanied by a muscular man in a leather harness. The acquaintance nodded at Felix in acknowledgement before he and his partner disappeared upstairs.

Felix sighed and swirled his drink around. 

It was only ever the same people here. And Felix understood that: he knew full well the importance of discretion when the room was filled with some of the most influential men in the province.

That didn’t change the fact that the selection of potential partners was awfully limited. Though many of the men here were aesthetically beautiful and Felix had enjoyed the company of more than a few of them, none of it had made him ask for a repeat performance. His bedmates had been either too young, too old, too thin or too muscular, too fake, or barely sober enough to still be able to consent. 

Felix didn’t exactly know what or who he was looking for in a place like this. And at this rate, he was unlikely to ever find it.

When the trio on the couch started getting a little too raunchy for Felix’s taste, he pushed himself away from the wall and walked into one of the side rooms for a breather.

Immediately, his eyes were drawn to silver-streaked hair and a dazzling smile.

"Hey, handsome. Let me deal you in?" the stranger asked from the poker table, a deck of cards in his hand.

Felix paused and stared at the man who wore a staff uniform but was definitely not the usual dealer—or anyone he’d seen here before, for that matter. He wasn’t even German: his features looked Mediterranean and his accent lacked the harshness Felix was used to.

He sat down and motioned for the man to deal him into a game.

—

Felix hadn’t ever been one for gambling, so it said something that he ended up spending an hour at the poker table. 

He learned that the dealer's name was Ace—an obvious pseudonym, but Felix wasn't bothered. He also learned that Ace was exactly his type.

Or maybe that was just the scotch talking.

Regardless, Ace was generous with his smiles and his jokes, an aura of openness around him. He was easy to talk to in that way that service staff sometimes were, with the exception that Ace seemed to really listen to Felix. 

They didn’t really make small talk—at least not the complaining-about-weather kind of small talk. Rather, Ace told Felix about his colorful time as a bartender in Rome, and in return Felix shared somewhat embellished travel stories from his numerous business trips while trying not to lose every hand he played.

All throughout the conversation, there was clear flirtation in the air, with Ace's smiles turning more teasing as he made friendly wagers specifically with Felix. 

People around the table came and went. Some of the guests tried to strike up a conversation with Felix, who didn't even bother replying half of the time.

After all, Felix had found exactly what he was looking for tonight, and that was why it only felt natural to ask Ace if he wanted to join him upstairs. 

It was only once Ace's eyebrows shot up into his hairline that Felix realized he may have read the situation wrong. This was technically against etiquette: he wasn’t supposed to proposition the bartenders or other staff who were getting paid to be here.

But Ace only grinned and smacked the deck of cards down, telling the table he was taking a smoke break.

—

Felix led them to a bedroom on the second story: one of the many prepared specifically for this purpose. 

It was a special kind of torture to watch Ace's knowing smirk and the sway of narrow hips as they walked up the stairs. By the time he closed the bedroom door behind them, Felix was already half-hard in his pants from anticipation.

But with the silence of the room falling over them as Ace merely observed Felix instead of jumping his bones like everyone else Felix had taken up here, his bravado almost faltered.

"Ehm… did you want to…?" Felix asked, reaching out with a clumsy hand.

That seemed to do the trick, as Ace’s smile was back in place and he stepped right up into Felix’s personal space. A warm hand ran up Felix’s chest, pausing to flick a button on his dress shirt.

And when Ace lifted his gaze, looking into Felix's eyes with a suggestive smirk and asked "What do you want, gorgeous?", Felix had to swallow so he didn’t end up blurting out something embarrassing like "I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you."

Instead, he steeled himself and gripped Ace's waist to pull him closer. "I want to fuck you."

Beautiful brown eyes darkened with desire and a grin spread over knowing lips. "I think that can be arranged."

Ace kissed him, then, leaning up and claiming Felix's lips. Felix only managed a desperate groan and licked into the inviting mouth. 

They stumbled into the room, Ace grabbing at Felix’s shoulders and Felix tearing away at Ace's clothes, never breaking the rough kiss.

—

They never even made it to the bed.

Felix shoved Ace against the wall next to a dresser and blindly rifled through the top drawer. His hand brushed across leather and silicone but he ignored the items in favor of locating the complimentary lube and condoms.

Ace seemed eager to get on with it, biting down on Felix's lip and making Felix's arousal spike hard and fast. He grabbed Ace and hoisted him up on the dresser, grinding down between spread legs and swallowing Ace's needy groan.

Neither had protests about the new position so that was how they stayed—even if Ace was now missing his clothes save for the button-down of his uniform hanging open over his chest. Meanwhile, Felix's slacks and underwear were pushed down over his hips and he had one hand braced on the wall, fucking into Ace like his life depended on it.

Ace felt perfect under him, his body gripping tight around Felix's cock and his nails digging into Felix's suit jacket. His moans were rich like honey and his coffee-colored eyes rolled back in his head when Felix hit a particularly good spot.

Felix simply couldn't get enough. He fucked harder, faster, making the dresser bang against the wall and relishing in Ace's breathless  "Oh fuck, just like that."

With the ruckus they were making, neither Felix nor Ace heard the aggressive knocking on the room's door until the person started shouting Felix's alias.

"Herr Müller!"

Felix's rhythm faltered. Hopefully, whoever was on the other side of the door would realize what they were interrupting and left quickly—

"Mister Müller, open the door!” they demanded in German.

Felix sighed in annoyance and stilled his hips. Ace had gone rigid and was staring at the door over Felix's shoulder, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Great; even Ace was visibly uncomfortable. Felix was definitely going to have words with the host about this.

“Mister Müller!”

“I'm busy!” Felix snapped.

Ace jumped and Felix brushed a soothing hand over his hip while he glared at the door.

“Sorry, we would never disturb you unless it was urgent!" They did sound genuinely apologetic. "It's just that, your ahm—companion, he's a fraud!"

What?

Felix turned back to Ace in disbelief, and—

He could kind of see it. 

Though Ace supposedly couldn't understand the conversation and was giving Felix an—admittedly, somewhat shaky—smile, his eyes kept darting around the room.

“A fraud?” Felix asked slowly.

“We found the real dealer sleeping in a broom closet! The thief drugged him, took his uniform and has been swindling people out of money at the poker table, pocketing his winnings! And several guests have reported stolen personal belongings!”

On a hunch, Felix reached for Ace's uniform jacket, still bunched up beside them from the frantic undressing earlier. He felt around the pockets and they clinked heavily with metal—probably from several pieces of jewelry and watches.

“Uh. Oops?” Ace said.

Felix stared at Ace's sheepish face. He didn't look the least bit apologetic but was already mapping out exit plans, his body tense despite the displayed casualness, and Felix—

Felix was still hard inside him.

“I don’t want to stop,” Felix confessed.

Ace visibly perked up at that. His nervous smile widened into a grin, a manic edge to it. “Me neither.”

“Mister Müller!”

“Though your friends are kind of a mood killer,” Ace said.

“I'm handling it!” Felix barked at the door. “And if you're not gone in the next three seconds—”

“Y-yes, Sir, but the stolen items—”

“I'll return them to their owners.”

“Well, very good, Sir, uhm… enjoy your evening!”

Scurrying footsteps finally left their door and Felix buried his face against Ace's shoulder with a groan.

Ace chuckled and nudged Felix's temple with his chin. “Persistent, weren’t they?”

“Of course you had to be a criminal,” Felix complained. “Just my luck.”

“I prefer the term con man,” Ace said. He squeezed down on Felix’s cock, making Felix gasp. “Now, am I gonna get a good fucking or what?”

Felix snorted. “I don’t think you're in any position to bargain.”

“Really? And here I thought I had you wrapped around my little finger. Since you—”

Felix thrust, and that made Ace choke on a moan.

“What was that?” Felix asked.

God, he was so frustrated, and Ace was right here, eager and willing. Rather than be afraid of Felix’s reaction to his crimes, Ace was grinning, like he had absolutely no regrets getting caught.

“Mmm, just like that, baby,” Ace purred obnoxiously, arms wrapping around Felix's shoulders. “Punish me for my sins, get payback, whatever floats your boat.”

Felix would have rolled his eyes but decided instead to start fucking in earnest.

And if his pace of driving into Ace's body was a little more brutal than before, well, Ace’s encouraging moans didn’t seem to think of that as a problem. 

It was unfair how good this felt. By all accounts, Felix should be angry about the deceit, but he just didn’t care. Ace has swooped in at exactly the right time, with his flirty smiles and clever mouth and a body that fit so perfectly underneath Felix’s, and being with him felt so natural—

In retrospect, Felix supposed most of those things had simply been an act.

"You're unbelievable,” Felix huffed. He slowed his pace, grinding languidly into that wonderful heat. “I can’t believe I got seduced by a con artist.”

Ace laughed and curled a hand in Felix’s sweaty hair. “And I think Mister Respectable Businessman has a thing for bad boys.”

“Shut up,” Felix said without any real anger. 

He grabbed Ace's hips and pulled them over the edge of the dresser, arms flexing with the effort of supporting most of Ace's weight.

Ace's reaction made it worth it.

“Fuck!” Ace exclaimed, jolting as Felix thrust in at a new angle. “Right there—right there, don’t stop!”

Felix grunted with exertion and settled back into a steady pace. He pulled out and slammed back in, again and again, taking care to grind against the spot that was making Ace moan and tighten around him so deliciously.

Sweat beaded on Felix's forehead but he had no intention of stopping. The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin mixed with the rhythmic banging of the hardwood dresser against the wall as he kept wildly fucking into Ace.

Ace's erection bobbed full and heavy between them, rubbing wetly against Felix's shirt. On impulse, Felix squeezed Ace's ass and ran a finger down to where his rim was stretched taut—

“Oh god,'' Ace moaned, his hand slipping between them to tug on his own cock. “I'm gonna come.”

And something in Felix snapped: he immediately stilled his hips and slapped Ace's hand away.

“No,” Felix ordered. “No, you're not.”

Ace made a beautiful sound, high-pitched and needy as he tried to grind down against him. “Fuck, what the fuck.”

“Do you really think you deserve to come?” Felix asked coldly.

He could scarcely recognize the tone in his own voice. This wasn't something he'd ever really dabbled in before—fantasized about, yes, but never dared to put into practice. At least not with a stranger.

Maybe Ace just happened to push all the right buttons. 

Even now, a hint of that infuriating smirk was back as Ace licked his lips. "Mm, do continue."

Emboldened by Ace's reaction, Felix forced himself to continue.

"I don't think you've earned this," Felix said, and before he could second-guess himself, roughly squeezed Ace's shaft with a half-growled “Thief.”

“Fuck," Ace gasped, his head falling back against the wall. “Please, I'll do anything, I'm so fucking close.”

“You'll come when I say so,” Felix said. “Now stay still and be a good little fucktoy.”

As soon as the words left Felix’s mouth, shame flashed cold and heavy through him; that was definitely a step too far. He opened his mouth to apologize—

Except Ace groaned a long and filthy “Yeeesss" and practically melted into it, going beautifully pliant in Felix's arms. And Felix supposed that was all the agreement he needed.

Confident that Ace wouldn't disobey, Felix kept thrusting. For the first time, he allowed himself to focus completely on his own pleasure—ignoring Ace's prostate and merely driving hard and fast into the tight body. 

Ace panted into his ear and desperately clawed at his back, but was staying blissfully still just like Felix had asked.

“Just like that. Good boy," Felix praised breathlessly.

Ace nearly sobbed and his neglected dick drooled messily between them.

There was no way Felix was going to last at this rate. If only he didn't have the condom, he'd be able to better feel Ace's quivering rim and could spill into the warmth inside, could fill him with—

“Shit,” Felix grunted. “I'm close.”

“God, yes,” Ace moaned.

He tightened around Felix, pushing him even closer to the edge. Felix grabbed for Ace's cock, still red and leaking, and stroked it in time with his thrusts.

“Come,” Felix ordered. “Come, let me feel it, I need…”

“Fuck—fuck, I'm—!”

With a shout, Ace's body went taut and spilled between them, his muscles rippling around Felix's cock. Felix was helpless to do anything but thrust into the clenching heat once, twice, before groaning and pumping his release into the condom.

And then, on impulse, he kissed Ace again.

A surprised noise escaped Ace’s throat but he quickly returned the kiss, lips and tongue easily yielding under Felix's.

The kiss mellowed out as they came down from their orgasms, until their lips were barely moving against each other while they caught their breaths.

“Holy shit,” Ace said. “Holy fucking shit.”

Felix hummed in agreement. His muscles were starting to protest the strain on them and he lowered Ace back onto the dresser, leaning over him with trembling arms while resting his damp forehead against Ace’s shoulder.

“I guess this means you're not mad at me,” Ace said.

Felix groaned. “Nobody cares about a few hundred euros. It's pocket change for everyone here.”

“Sooo…”

“You still can't keep it. Or the stolen items.”

“Aww.” Ace sighed dramatically. “And here I thought you'd be the Bonnie to my Clyde.”

Felix snorted. "Let's clean up."

—

They put the room—and themselves—together as much as possible. Felix's shirt had ended up streaked with Ace’s release and was thus beyond rescue, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Every guest had seen things much more scandalous than a few telling stains.

Felix was just tired. Not the bad kind of tired that left him miserable and snappy, but a pleasant exhaustion, one that made him want to curl up for a nap with a sated smile on his face.

He glanced at Ace: buckling his belt, his face flushed, hair mussed and looking thoroughly debauched. Once he got caught staring, Ace merely winked at him and Felix smiled back.

Despite how everything played out tonight, Felix didn’t regret a thing.

“You wanna come with me to deal with security?” Ace asked. “Make sure they don't throw me in some dingy cell? I mean, I’d assume you wouldn’t wanna let the cops know about this place. It would be a shame, getting busted for all the drugs and gambling and stuff.”

Felix didn’t know if this was Ace flirting, attempting to blackmail him, or genuinely fearing the consequences of his actions.

It probably said something that Felix didn’t mind any of those options.

“The police chief is currently downstairs, high on cocaine and having a threesome with two men half his age,” Felix said matter-of-factly.

Ace went quiet at that, and it might even have been actual worry Felix could see creasing his forehead.

“But no, I'm not going to let them put you behind bars,” Felix said. “At worst, you’ll be banned from the guest list—if you were ever even on it.”

Ace smiled. “Thanks.”

—

Once downstairs, Ace returned the stolen goods to the host without much incident. Felix was a shadow at his back, glaring daggers at one of the staff who dared suggest that Ace needed to strip out of his stolen uniform until the subject was rightfully dropped.

The stains on Felix's shirt garnered a few glances but he paid them no mind. Regardless of whether or not he slept with a con man, Felix was still one of the most influential people in the room, and his patronage was worth much more than some mass-produced staff uniform.

It wasn’t a surprise when the host, having correctly read the atmosphere in the room, suggested that Felix be the one to escort Ace out of the party.

Walking down the steps outside of the private estate, Ace stretched his hands over his head with a yawn.

“Well, thanks for tonight,” Ace said, then added with a wink, “It was a wild ride.” 

Felix chuckled. “Not what I expected from a night like this, but I can’t say I have any complaints.”

“Mm?” Ace quirked an eyebrow. “I could say the same. You’re not exactly what I expected from someone who trips over their own words and throws away a perfectly good hand of two pairs.”

The reminder of his terrible poker skills made Felix’s face pink and he cleared his throat.

“Maybe my attention was occupied elsewhere,” he said.

A silence settled over them. Felix wanted to say more, but that might complicate things—privacy reasons aside, he doubted con artists usually stuck around their target after getting caught.

“Real shame about my ban from this fine establishment,” Ace eventually said. His tone was jovial, but the words were deliberate. “It was a good party. Met some interesting people.”

Felix glanced at Ace, only to find him watching Felix with a meaningful look. Testing the waters, some part of Felix’s intuition supplied.

“I—“ Felix swallowed. “I know another party.”

Ace tilted his head just so, his expression carefully neutral. “Oh?”

“Tomorrow,” Felix pushed himself to continue. “At the Richter manor—ähm, my home.”

And just like that, Ace’s poker face gave way for a lopsided grin. “Is that so?”

Felix felt himself relax. “It's very exclusive,” Felix continued. “There's no drugs or security or—or strippers, only, well. Me and my collection of whiskey.”

“Sounds like my kind of party.” Ace smirked. “Need a poker dealer? I just happened to acquire a new uniform.”

Felix let out a startled laugh and even Ace chuckled along.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

[fandomsbyladymelodrama]

@salzrand​ Lobsters + Kittens = Flufffffffffffff <3

[lollypopsx]

Do you think you could do like a continuation of char and Harry about there whole dinner with the boys and everything? What they do and how they eat and everything?

 Drabble Request

A continuation of Festive Food Shops With A Four Year Old

Drabble Masterlist

Pre-Christmas Festivities Singledadrry x Charleigh - Age 4

——————

"Ready to sit up at the table now bug?" Louis asks, as Charleigh put her game of Connect-Four back into the box. While dinner was cooking, the boys were spread out around downstairs; Harry helping his chef, Sarah, in the kitchen, a film playing on the TV, and the rest of the boys going between helping out and keeping Charleigh company.

A few more close members of their team had arrived to join in the pre-festivities as dinner was almost ready.

Charleigh wandered into the dining area to find Harry, talking to Niall, Liam and Paul. "Hello Kiddo!" Paul smiles, seeing Charleigh as she gives him a happy hug. She was in her favourite tartan red pinafore with a white long sleeve t-shirt on and little white socks. It was her favourite because every time she wore it, Harry would wear his matching trousers with a white shirt. Her beautifully long, curly hair was in a half up, half down style with a glittery gold bow.

"Ready to eat some nice dinner?" Harry presses a kiss to her head and goes to the table. Everyone's plates were piled high with different meats, every kind of potato, vegetables, gravy, stuffing and more. The full works.

Christmas crackers were placed diagonally across the plates, with water and wine glasses at every place. Niall was pouring the wine, while Harry was placing down the plates.

“Uncle Ni, can I have some of that juice please?” Charleigh asks politely as she climbs up onto chair beside Harry’s.

“Careful baby, plates hot” Harry muttered quickly.

“Oh bug, this isn’t juice for you” Niall chuckle softly, “Why don’t I get you some juice in one of these fancy adult glasses?” He smiles, picking up one of the wine glasses.

Char giggles softly and nods excitedly. Niall filled her wine glass with some blackcurrant juice and set it in front of her.

Charleigh ate as much as she possibly could, she did have a lot on her plate compared to usual so Harry didn’t mind that she hadn’t finished, but he knew when she was beginning to get quiet, that meant she was very full up and very tired.

“You wanna go upstairs and have a nap baby?” Harry whispers as Charleigh looked over at him, climbing silently onto his lap, and shaking her head.

“Are you sure?” He whispers. She nodded once again and wrapped her arms around his neck as he held her small body close.

“Too much going on isn’t there?” Liam chuckled, sipping his beer as everyone moved into the front room again. Harry put on a different film from Charleigh as she clung to his chest. Everyone was chatting, drinking and snacking amongst themselves. There were at least twenty people around, and though Harry had a very large house, and it was a very safe space for Charleigh, it sometimes could still be very overwhelming for her.

When her tiny fists were balled up into Harry’s jumper, Harry instantly knew why. “Shall we go and sit upstairs together for 10 minutes?” He mumbles into her head. He noticed how her wide eyes were roaming around the room, full of their closest friends but less familiar faces to Charleigh, only Harry, Liam, Louis, Niall and a few of the security guards were the ones she saw more regularly. She gave him a wide-eyed nod and clung to him tightly as he lifted her onto his hip.

“Excuse me, I’ll be back in a little while” Harry explains to the other guests as he took her into his bedroom, the sunset streaming through the window. Instead of turning on the main bright light, he switched on the fairy lights in his room, which Charleigh had begged him to put up. Twinkly lights seemed to calm Charleigh, she could sit happily and watch their warm glow flicker.

Harry sat quietly on his bed, his back resting against the headboard and sitting Char across his lap, his arms protectively engulfing her as her wide green eyes became glued to the fairy lights strung up on the ceiling. Her breath hiccupped in her chest, which meant the overwhelming feeling was crowding her still.

“Your hand fits in mine like it's made just for me But bare this mind, it was meant to be And I'm joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks And it all makes sense to me

I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth But if I do, it's you Oh, it's you, they add up to I'm in love with you And all these little things

You can't go to bed without a cup of tea And maybe that's the reason that you talk in your sleep And all those conversations are the secrets that I keep Though it makes no sense to me

I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth But if it's true, it's you It's you, they add up to I'm in love with you And all these little things

You'll never love yourself half as much as I love you And you'll never treat yourself right darling, but I want you to If I let you know, I'm here for you Maybe you'll love yourself like I love you, oh

And I've just let these little things slip out of my mouth 'Cause it's you, oh, it's you It's you, they add up to And I'm in love with you And all these little things”

Harry sung quietly, swaying his daughter gently as she watched gentle lights twinkling on this wintery evening. Her ragged breaths had calmed, and her eyes had gone from being wide and alert, to calm and comfortable.

“Would you like to go back downstairs now or have another 10 minutes of quiet time?” Harry whispered calmly as he stroked her hair.

She sat up slowly. “We can go downstairs now Daddy” She whispers softly.

“Come on pretty girl” Harry smiles, kissing her cheek and lifting himself off the bed. He took her hand as they walked back down to the living room. There was a very big difference in her emotion when she came back downstairs. Niall and Liam were playing a card game as Charleigh ran over to them instantly.

“Woah! I thought you were asleep trouble!” Niall chuckled at the sudden force of a 4 year olds bodyweight bombarding onto her lap.

“Shall we find a game that you can play too?” Liam chuckled as they quickly ditched their own game. 

“Twister!!” Charleigh gleams happily. Harry chuckles, now feeling more relaxed that Charleigh had had ten minutes to calm down and it had made all the difference. He didn’t feel quite as hopeless now. He could now sit and speak to some other friends with a glass of wine.

Niall had set out the twister matt in the living room. “Who’s playing?!” He calls with a chuckle as a few stand up to join in.

“Princesses first!” Louis smiles, as he hands Charleigh the board so she could have her first spin. Of course, as always, Niall and Louis were the first out, then Preston from the security team, it was then between Charleigh, Harry and Leigh Anne. But of course they let Charleigh win...how could they not?!

“I won Daddy! I won!” Charleigh giggles, jumping happily and clapping her hands in excitement. 

“I know! Well done baby!” He kisses her head proudly.

“Uncle Niall” Charleigh floats over to him as he was talking to a pretty girl a hair colour similar to hers and a funny accent, she thinks her name is Jade. Her arms shoot up to Niall and he picks her up, lifting her onto his hip without hesitation.

“Yes my little Christmas pudding?” Niall chuckles softly. 

“Can we sing some songs with your guitar?” She asks shyly, her wide eyes pleading.

“How could anyone ever say no to you” Jade chuckles, tickling Charleigh’s cheek softly as she giggled.

“Jade is right, I definitely can’t ever say no to you!” He chuckles. 

“How about I make you some Hot Chocolate?” Jade offers with a kind smile. Hot chocolate? Charleigh liked her already!

Everyone sat together in a circle comfortably, most drinking some warm mulled wine, others with a beer and a select few with non-alcoholic drinks.

Charleigh had wormed her way comfortably back into Harry’s lap as he was still speaking to some other friends. He was sat cross legged on the floor, his wine in one hand as his other arm instantly wrapped around Charleigh, who rested the back of her head on Harry’s chest. He pressed a soft kiss to her head mid conversation. Some conversations had died down as Niall began strumming his guitar, other conversations still continuing quietly.

A few others joined in with the singing, as well as Charleigh for some songs she knew. She happily watched her uncle Niall with glimmering eyes and a giant smile. Harry’s eyes glanced down, his heart warming as he captured the beautiful smile on his daughter. Her happiness reminded him how privileged and lucky he was to have her.

It was always them two. It would only ever be those two.

Father and Daughter, against the world.

——————

Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores -  @beachwood-cafe - @damnasstyles - @awesomebooklover17 - @hazgoldenstyles - @evanjh - @harrysbracelet - @nerdypartytrashpsychic - @harryssweatcreaturee - @hibaiqbal12 - @ayeshathestyles - @michelleficrecs

[acciocriativity]

You and Me || Harry Potter

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin/Reader

Summary: It's always been you and Draco since you can remember, the invincible duo, the two of you against the world but some things have changed along the way and it's not news to any soul at Hogwarts but it's time your parents knew too. 

 Word Count: 2,8k

A/N: I took a bit to finish but here it is your story @x-dratie-x. I hope you all like it! Tom Riddle is not Voldemort in this oneshot, Voldemort didn’t exist at all but the events of the first war and its consequences still is valid, but with another wizard.

Warnings: A very very slightly sexual conversation and that's all

1987  

  I didn't want to be at that dinner, I didn't want to have to listen all day long to how well I should behave because the Malfoy's were such an important family or something. 

I had plans for the week, I would go with our elf to buy more art supplies and I was allowed to spend the day outside the house, just drawing the landscape. 

My parents never let me participate in events like this, because I might mess up, say something inappropriate for the moment, or whatever excuse they decided to make up. But out of the blue, I was told that I would have to be there. Why? I couldn't understand and I didn't even ask them, what good would it do? None. 

The day was only getting worse and worse by the hour for me, I just wanted to take off that dress and go play but I couldn't, obviously. So I did what was left to me, smile and eat politely without making any noise or comments, not that there were any comments I would like to make. I had no idea what they were talking about, it was absolutely boring. The only thing that made me feel slightly better were my own thoughts and the fact that their son was as bored as I was. 

We knew each other because of some casual encounters between our parents but never had the opportunity to talk to each other, because of course, only grown-ups talk.

But it seems that I drew the long straw after a horrible day, after dinner Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were invited to stay a little longer and I was excused along with Draco to play.  

I could hardly believe it, I wouldn't have to sit there and smile for another 45 minutes, my happiness couldn't be measured at that moment. Not even waiting for my mother to say it again, I stood up and said goodbye politely with a smile before walking up the stairs and I could hear footsteps following me somewhat hesitantly but I didn't care at the moment. 

"Come on, let's go play in my room", I exclaimed with a huge smile and threw the bow tie, which was pinning my hair, on the floor and quickly walked over to it uncaringly.

 I missed his shocked expression but as soon as we reached my door, he made sure to make it clear to me. 

"Do your parents let you do that?", the question made no sense in my head but stopping to think about it now, it makes sense, he should always be flawless. 

"They don't care as long as it's not in front of guests, you won't tell them, right?", his greyish blue eyes reflected mine and for a few seconds I thought that was a beautiful effect.

 He looked away from me and nodded slightly in agreement, his face covered in shyness and I just squealed with delight. I opened the door and pulled him inside, his hand was so cold that I thought about taking one of my jackets and handing it to him. 

"So what do you want to do? I have some toys in my closet, I'll get them", I walked happily to the door and proceeded to try to decide what I would want. Some was not the best word, there were a lot of them, far more than I would ever use. 

 I came back with a big mulberry box that I've only been able to carry within the last year and placed it on my bed but he didn't even notice, he was looking at my drawings. 

"Oh, you liked them. I wish I had done one more today, do you want to try?", I asked him and walked over to the table where my sheets were. 

"Yeah, they're not too bad", he stated nonchalantly and I didn't believe him for a moment but I chose to keep my mouth shut for once. 

 I picked up two white sheets, two quills and sat down quietly on the floor, since I didn't have two chairs for the two of us but it seems he wasn't used to that. 

"Come on, hurry up, your parents won't be here forever", I patted the seat next to me and soon he sat down as well, I noticed his posture still uncomfortable and my goal for the day turned to change that, if only for 5 minutes. 

 From that day on, we became closer and our parents obviously understood and liked that, because we were strengthening their relationship and at no point that crossed my mind. I was just happy to be supported by my parents to visit Draco. 

1991

 My Hogwarts letter had arrived some weeks ago and I hadn't let go at any point, going to Diagon Alley had become a completely different experience and I couldn't wait, but I had to because I pleaded with my and his parents so that we would go together.

But the day had finally arrived and I had to contain all my energy to not look like an out of control little girl, nothing out of the ordinary but today was more difficult because I was genuinely happy. I was always genuinely happy with my only real friend. 

"Y/N, you must hurry or we are going to be late", I could hear my mother's voice from downstairs just as I finished putting on my flats. 

 As it was a very important occasion I had chosen my favorite outfit, even my parents were a little excited too. They had told me that they had met at Hogwarts and that I would find someone from a good family at Slytherin as well. This part was completely ignored by me but they never found out about it. 

"I'm here mom, we won't be late", I said as soon as I came down the stairs and approached them without running. We were near the fireplace and I mentally thanked them for not having to apparate, because it was always a horrible experience for me.

"Okay, I'll go first and you two right after", my father made sure to announce although he always goes first when we go out like that.   

 After a few minutes, we arrived in front of Flourish & Blotts and there was the imposing Malfoy family. After a small talk in which I had no interest in paying attention to, we all went inside and we were finally able to talk while our parents were engaged in a conversation with the attendant. 

"I've already said it once and I'll say it again, I honestly don't understand how you're not that excited, it's Hogwarts", I whispered to him as we walked through the messy shelves full of books. 

"It doesn't seem like a great thing after hearing it so many times", I could clearly see that there was something more there, I had known him long enough to know that and also that he wouldn't tell me easily. 

"Okay, so you're telling me that you're not the least bit excited to leave Malfoy Manor to start your life?", his lips twitched trying to hold back a smile, his eyes shifted from mine, looking for something to distract himself. 

 But I could stop him, my cunning little hands went to his waist tickling that area before he could prevent me from doing so. That was enough to make him laugh, although he denied that he was ticklish every time I asked. 

This attack did not end well for me, because revenge existed in his vocabulary and was even overused. I had to run, as fast as I could, and it still didn't work. 

And why? Because I went to a dead end corridor upstairs, I had never even visited the second floor of that store, the day I went there I had to get unlucky. 

In short, I was attacked twice more without mercy, my glasses almost got broken and we were so noisy that the owner gave us a scolding and our parents did the same as soon as we left with our packages, but this was not enough to ruin the day and our good mood. 

1993

 It was already expected that we would both end up in Slytherin, which was great because we didn't have to be separated, on the opposite, we became closer than ever. It also didn't take long to form our group of friends, actually not more than a month but the thing that made us truly close started in the third year when I had a genius idea. 

We all had a reason to dislike Harry, mine was nowhere near Draco's, no one's was but we shared it anyway. It was always fun to pick fights with him, make pranks and get him into trouble on purpose, so why not make it a little game? It was so easy that the idiots, Crabbe and Goyle understood the first few times, you can't expect more than that from them, and this was certainly a record for both. 

The game had three main objectives: 

- Take the most materials from Harry or his friends: ink, quill, books, whatever they were carrying would be a prize and would get a point.

- See him or his friends more often, with the intention of spying on them just for fun, of course. It could be in class or in the corridors, each time would be an extra point. 

- Pick fights with him or his friends, each minute was worth one point and to be proven, had to have someone to confirm it. 

 Of course, there was no room for lies, and I made sure to put a spell on our board to prevent this. Yes, I had made a small board that stayed with me but each team wrote down their own score.

To make it more fun, we split up into pairs. Draco and I, Pansy and Blaise, Grabbe and Goyle, Astoria and Millicent and Tom and Theo.

And finally, the best part, whoever had the most points at the end of the year would win 5 galleons from each person, as well as having a celebration party financed by the losers.  

Needless to say, Draco and I always won since the day I created the game. Our friends always complained about us playing dirty but it was never necessary and deep down they knew it, it must be hard to lose every year so I don't judge them.  

1995

"Are they still complaining?", I remained with my eyes closed, it was comfortable to lie curled up against Draco on the couch in the common room. We had two free classes, which was being put to good use to get some rest after a year of N.O.M.S. and a devastating victory in our little game.

"They'll get over it when we come back in September, I guess.... You're missing the best part", his voice came out whispered directly into my ear and I couldn't help but smile.      

 I didn't need to see the scene to know what was going on, Tom and Theo blaming each other for the defeat, everyone standing back from them because no one wants to get involved in their ego battle and our other friends trying not to laugh because it was a funny scene, even if they didn't know it.

"They're taking longer than last time...", I commented slightly annoyed by the noise. I had no idea what had happened to me, because usually I spent the afternoon celebrating my victory but not today. 

"Let's get out of here, you seems so good", he hadn't even completed his sentence when I agreed and painfully got up to go to his room. 

 But before I could take two steps, I felt his arms go around my waist and legs, leading me up the stairs in a bridal style.

I smiled wider and snuggled into his arms, enjoying more of the warmth and good feeling it gave me until we reached the bed.

"Thanks honey, I don't know what happened today", I commented under my breath as soon as he had me lying on the bed, but I knew it was a lie.

"Are you sure? This isn't related to the fact that our parents will know about our relationship in a few days?", I hoped he would pretend he didn't know but that wasn't the case, I wasn't going to be able to run away from the subject.

"It's just that I don't like them meddling in our lives, of course I have nothing against your parents, I'll love to be introduced as your girlfriend but my parents will be twice as unbearable", I sighed and hugged the blond once more, if there was one thing that made me better it was this. 

"Like my mom isn't going to start a 3 year planning for our wedding after she finds out, but at least they'll be used to it by the end of the summer and we won't have to go through this again", he began to fiddle with my hair and curl the strands between his fingers, slowly my shoulders relaxed and a considerable chunk of my worry faded away.

"Yes, I think so but it's going to be a lot harder for us to be alone now. You definitely won't be stepping foot in my room like you did when we used to play together", the memories flooded back and I felt him smile too, it had been a while since this had escaped my thoughts. 

"I don't need to worry about that, we slept together for almost the entire year at Hogwarts and they can't do anything about it and we'll keep doing it", I couldn't see him since my face was buried in his neck, but the perfect image of his mischievous grin formed in my head. 

 "The question is, will you survive for two months without me? Because I don't see that happening", I teased with a huge smirk as I turned to look him in the eye. 

"It won't happen because your father won't be enough to stop me love and I'll make sure you don't have to resort to your hands, because we know it wouldn't be enough", smugness was all over his face and as much as I searched for an answer to that, I didn't have one. Not in the first few seconds. 

"Good love, that's good because I'm sure your hands wouldn't do a better job either. In fact, I'd be a little worried if they actually still work, in case we get separated", I had managed to wipe the smirk off his face but I also knew it wouldn't stay that way, revenge was still an overused word in his vocabulary. 

 A week later, there I was on one of the Hogwarts Express cars with Draco, since we couldn't fit all our friends there anyway, we decided to enjoy the last hours of freedom we had together. 

And how quickly it went by, one moment I was chatting with my boyfriend while my puppy slept peacefully in her travel bed and the next, we had arrived and a wave of students were trying to get through the doors at the same time. 

We stepped off the train holding hands, while I carried only my baby in the other, and this detail did not escape the trained eyes of our parents who were talking side by side but as soon as they noticed us they stopped.

"For Merlin's sake, you two finally decided to listen to me and are in a relationship now?", my mother's eyes sparkled with excitement and I could already hear her voice asking me all sorts of embarrassing questions. "Narcisa, our family is finally becoming one, this is the best news I could ever receive", she could jump for joy now but because of the good posture of a London high society woman, she did not do that.

"How about dinner at our house today? We have a good reason to celebrate," I had seen his mother smile at me several times but even Lucius Malfoy seemed satisfied enough to show a little bit of his teeth, which is indeed shocking.

 My parents agreed to the idea immediately and only one look was exchanged between Draco and me, it only took a single look to know that we both acknowledged it would be an insufferable night. 

Harry Potter Masterlist

[thebrochtuarachs]

Something in the Rain - “Finding Solid Ground”

A/N:  Hi all! This chapter has been in the drafts for quite sometime now but I only had the time to pick up the writing. Thank you so much for your patience with my slow updates but rest assured, I absolutely love this story and daydream about the chapters ahead. As always, your comment and suggestions help a lot moving this story forward. Hope you all are keeping safe and healthy! Till the next one!

AO3  / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch

XXXXX

She was 45 minutes late.

Claire was running as fast as she could, catching some curious eyes on her as she raced towards Mrs. Kim’s Korean Street Food Hub to hopefully, still catch Jamie for their lunch.

She got off from her morning surgery quite late due to some complications but she still went as courtesy and because, in all honesty, she still wanted to see him. Their last encounter kind of left them in an awkward place and she was hoping that this meeting could help clarify some things. She has been waiting for this all week but alas, life (and medicine) had other plans.

Claire entered the store and knew instantly that he wasn’t there. The place was empty after the lunch rush and she sighed in disappointment.

“Claire!” Mrs. Kim suddenly called out. “This is for you, left by your friend”, she said while handing her a piece of paper.

“Thank you” Claire replied, opening it on spot.

Hi Claire,

Sorry, I left before you arrived but I have to get back to the office. Don’t worry about the wait, I really don’t mind but I just have a packed schedule today.

Forgive me if this is too forward but here’s my number. No pressure! Just figured we can text or call whenever is a better time to catch up. Just hit me up when you feel like it and I’ll be on the other line.

I do hope to hear from you soon. If not, I’ll be here next Friday, same time :)

Jamie

Claire did not waste any more time and punched in Jamie’s mobile number to call. After three rings, he answered.

“Hello?”

“Jamie? It’s me, Claire.”

“Claire, hi! I see you got my note.”

“I did. I am so sorry. My surgery ran a little bit long and…”

“Don’t worry, I figured that must be it.” he said cheerfully, cutting her off before she went into a long explanation. “I mean, you save lives and all, couldn’t be angry about that.”

Claire sighed relief on the other line and couldn’t believe just how understanding he is. So understanding that she’s starting to wonder if he’s even real. She hasn't really met anyone that chivalrous and it captures her.

“Oh, wow. Thank you - and thank you for the note and your number. My guilt would’ve eaten me alive if I couldn’t apologize to you.”

“You don’t think it was too forward?”

“No, not at all. To be honest, I was going to ask it last week before we got, erm, interrupted.”

“Well, that’s good to know. And in any case, I would’ve given it.” Jamie said.

She could hear his smile from the other line and she couldn’t help but smile too.

“Anyhow,” Claire followed. “I am so sorry I missed you today. To make up for it, would you happen to be doing anything tomorrow?”

“Hmm, let me check." Jamie checked his board calendar. "Nope, my weekend is free. Anything you had in mind?”

“Well, if you’re up for it, I’d like to invite you to the center tomorrow, see what we’re doing with the kids. Fair warning though, they get a little rowdy sometimes.”

“I’m game! Text me the details and what time to meet you.”

“Really? Great! Sure, I’ll text you the details in a bit”

“Will wait for it. Claire, sorry to cut this short but I have to run to a meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Oh no, please. Go ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow, Alright, bye!”

-

It was a Saturday, two weeks since their encounter by the crossing, and now she’s waiting for him to arrive and bring him to one of the most special places for her.

Claire hadn’t absolutely thought through what inviting Jamie to the center would mean. Reflecting on yesterday, a part of Claire thought she may have panicked and this invite might’ve been a mistake. On another end was a part of her that was excited to see him and if she was really being honest, spend time with him, and show her the work they have been doing.

She had told her their meeting story and the extended invite to her friends and staff but left out the part about their lunches. She messaged the team on WhatsApp about their upcoming guest and her inbox has blown with messages asking her for more details about the man himself. She messaged that they’ll be able to find out for themselves tomorrow when they meet him and turned off her phone.

“Claire?” Deep in thought she hadn’t seen or hear Jamie arrive. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Spaced out there for a bit” she embarrassingly admitted.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Jamie asked as Claire pointed the way in.

“Erm, nothing much. Just thinking about giving you fair warning about everyone upstairs. They’re quite curious about you, Jamie Fraser.” she said jokingly the half truth.

Jamie got a bit nervous suddenly and Claire felt it. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll save you if they get too rowdy. Be ready to answer questions though." She said, smiling, hoping to ease his thoughts.

“Is any topic off limits? Should I not mention anything to them?”

“I leave it to you. But if you ask me, just be yourself and charm everyone away”

Jamie chuckled and Claire turned to him. “What?”

“You think I’m charming?”

Claire laughed and smacked him in the arm. “Oh, bug off!”

“I’ll take that as a yes”

“Anyway!” Claire interrupted. “Today’s event is just art and crafts and a story session. The rest, the kids can do and play how ever they like. I usually just play with any kid who asks me to and time just flies and suddenly, the afternoon is done.”

“Got it. I honestly hope I can help more than distract or whatever”

“Pssh, you’ll be fine, Jamie. You’ll be fine”

--

The moment the elevator doors opened, a line of people greeted Jamie and Claire at the entrance.

“Hello, everyone” Claire greeted but to her surprise, no one spoke or moved. Everyone was just looking at Jamie. “This is Jamie. Jamie Fraser, our guest for today”

She ushered them closer to the stunned group and began to introduce them one by one.

Mary, the receptionist and admin assistant.

Mrs. Graham, the secretariat and head of operations.

Joe, also a surgeon from Claire’s hospital.

Frank, the history professor he’d met a week earlier.

Geilis, a botanist and herbalist.

“It’s nice to meet you all. Thank you for having me this afternoon.” Jamie said and it was only then that the ice was broken.

“Hi, Jamie was it? Can I call you Jamie?” Mrs. Graham prodded.

“Yes, Mam”

“Alright, this way. Let me show you around”

As Mrs. Graham swept Jamie away for a short tour, the rest of the group crowded Claire with questions.

“Okay, he is even more handsome than in the pictures!” Geilis excitedly said.

“Pictures?” Claire asked.

“Ugh, I sometimes forget you’re a doctor who needs to catch up to the times” Geilis pinched her nose jokingly. “Jamie was named one of Scotland’s most eligible bachelors in a tatler magazine last year. There’s pretty striking photos of him in a tux and in casual clothes.”

“I remember that issue. Gail had one lying in the house and I happen to peruse it one time. You’re right, the pictures don’t do him justice.” Joe chimed in.

“I had no idea. I mean, I just literally bumped into the guy on the street!” Claire said, a curiosity pooling in her mind. She had to look for that magazine later.

“Such a meet-cute story. Ugh, Claire! It’s like something out of the books or movies” Geilis added.

“Psh, he seems too manly for me. I mean, who is that fit and that put together.” Frank mused.

“I think he’s quite charming” Joe added.

“If you ask me, Claire, I don’t know what’s going on between you two but keep it going” Geilis added.

“Aish, nothing is going on. I just extended a polite invite to make up for - “ Claire stopped as Jamie and Mrs. Graham arrived back, thankful for the Interruption.

“Make up for what?” Geilis asked, not missing that info.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Mhm” Geilis hummed raising an eyebrow to Claire. She’ll pull it out of her later.

---

It was a long but fun afternoon for everyone.

Afterwards, one by one, the space cleared out, the kids were picked up, saying goodbye to the staff with some even approaching and waving at Jamie as they left, leaving him with a heartwarming feeling.

“Well, another successful weekend, folks!” Frank called out and the team gave themselves applause.

“Great job to Joe and Mary for taking on the storytelling and painting sessions this afternoon and I would also like to thank our guest, Jamie, for being patient and helpful with the kids” Mrs. Graham added, earning another group applause.

“Thank ye, I hope I helped at all today but otherwise, I enjoyed today and thank ye for inviting me.” Jamie shared.

“Come join us anytime” Joe patted him on the back. “Alright, everyone, have a goodnight. See you all next week, I’ll bring Gail and Lenny along.” With that he made a way for the elevator and it was everyone’s cue to leave.

Claire approached Jamie just as he was going to her. “Well, how are you and how was it?” she asked. If she expected to spend time with Jamie, well, it didn’t happen. First, he was whisked away by Mrs. Graham. Afterwards, it was Joe asking help to build his set. Next up was Mary who got him assisting on getting and serving the food, and the rest of the time, it was kids calling out on Jamie here and there and he was more than happy to oblige.

“Fun and a little bit tiring” he replied and Claire gave a small laugh. “But in all honesty, thank ye for inviting me to come here. Made me miss my niece and nephew”

“I’m glad you had fun and I’m glad you got to see what we’re doing here.”

Jamie might be overthinking things but he knew that Claire sharing this part of her to him seems like a big thing and he intends to cherish that.

“Anyway, I’d like to offer to drive ye home...or to the nearest bus stop” he added, panicking he put her in a tight spot.

Claire paused, eyed him jokingly, intentionally making him more flush and nervous.

“I’d take that offer but” she began and Jamie swallowed the lump on his throat, “I actually live nearby so we don’t need to drive”

“Okay,” Jamie sighed in relief which Claire found very cute. “Lead the way, then”

[foryoumyheroes]

Their S/O takes them to an Asian House Party

[Midoriya + Todoroki + Bakugou + Kaminari + Kirishima] 

A/N:  Hey here’s a niche that no one asked for. 

I know that Japanese is a type of Asian but I am a wildly different type of Asian 🤣🤣, so my headcanons are based entirely off of being this other racial group. 

I just want to say that most of the time older Asian relatives really step out of line with their comments and can be really hurtful. I absolutely hate that behavior and their mindset, but for the purposes of this let’s just say that they’re not being harmful at all and it’s mostly light teasing :) If they’re like that in real life :) screw them >:) Also P.S. if these sound familiar it’s because I’ve recycled a lot of ideas from my other blog where I wrote “Asian House Party” headcanons already! 

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, hints at underage drinking  

Midoriya Izuku: 

For the longest time it has only been him and his mom, so when he enters the house and sees it packed with people his brain just goes blank because this is a family party. 

These people are all related to you somehow?? 

He asks you how you guys are all related and you’re genuinely like, “I don’t know???” You just call everyone auntie and uncle and hope for the best.  

If you start taking him to parties before he becomes a Pro, he has enough of a baby face that your older relatives and grandparents give him a red envelope without thinking too hard about it. But he gets so embarrassed and feels so bad that he ends up giving it to your mom. 

At his first party he’s supperrr nervous and wants your family to like him. He’s stuttering nearly every other syllable. 

Never leaves your side. Trails behind you like a puppy the entire time. 

After he’s been to several parties with your family, they recognize his red Nike Air Forces in the pile of shoes outside the house enough to be like, “Hey, [Name]! Your boyfriend’s here!” 

Midoriya is kinda of a pushover during the beginning of the series, and Asian families have the tendency to tease without knowing how it might sound, so he becomes an easy target until you pull him aside and tell him to argue back. 

He’s like noooo I don’t want to be disrespectful :(. He says that he’s used to bullying so this is nothing which makes you kinda sad and angry. You’re like hahahaha no. 

You two eventually get your family to stop and that’s when he’s finally indoctrinated into your fam. 

He’s kind of the quintessential Asian boyfriend? He goes to a good school, is sweet and innocent, polite to elders, etc. When he goes to the party with you your aunties are going to your cousins and say, “Why can’t you get a boyfriend like [Name].” 

Your female relatives kinda baby him because every time they see him he’s always in a new cast with another broken bone, so when there’s no more space left on the couches or the folding stools they kick your cousins off to make room for him. 

When he later becomes Pro-Hero Deku, everyone’s in love with him. He becomes the talk of the party. Everyone brags about him saying that they practically saw him grow up when they only see him once or twice a year. 

He also becomes the “cool uncle” that offers to take your younger relatives out for boba. But you pay. You have to pay or else your mom will yell at you for making the guest spend money. 

Yes, you will polite fight your own boyfriend. 

No, he will not win, but he’s determined to win one time like the shonen protag he is. 

Always leaves the party with the large trays of leftovers for him and his mom. 

Even when he’s like in his late twenties he’s still sitting at the kid’s table. 

Todoroki Shouto: 

When you first invited him to a party with your family he’s just like, “Oh. Sure.” Most of the parties he’s been to is the rich people parties that his dad took him to for publicity, so he arrives to the house in a whole suit and tie. 

Your cousins and uncles are clowning him while the older women swoon. You’re in the background panicking because everyone else is in sweats or shorts while he looks like he’s going to prom?? 

[Your auntie says, “Oh my god, he’s making such a good first impression!” 

You: Hahahaha! Yea!〔´∇｀〕

Inner You: Oh god I forgot he’s clueless ⊙▽⊙] 

Brings an expensive pastry every time because Fuyumi said it was polite. From that everyone’s like, “Oh??? You’re invited to every party from now on!” 

Becomes the source of your mom’s humble brag. “Oh, your son goes to Stanford and is studying medicine? My kid and their boyfriend are both Heroes-in-training and he’s the son of the Number One Hero — “ 

Kinda just does whatever your aunties and mom tells him to do? 

He’ll sit wherever they tell him to sit, even if it’s far away from you and he’ll even take the many family photos for you guys in the end. Even though he’s shit at photography. 

If they’re like, “Oh, you’re so skinny, you should eat some more!” He’ll just shrug and be like okay, and doesn’t stop them when they continue to put food on his plate even though he’s full and gets into a big food coma that knocks him out on the couch right away. 

Every time he appears, your aunties will just stop and say, “Oh, he’s so handsome!” 

He’s getting better at handling kids and it shows by the way he’s more willing to play with them then hang out with your cousins that are around your age. He’s in the room upstairs and is ;; just napping with them.   

The kids in the party call him Zuko.  

Before you brought him your aunts and uncles would be like, “Do you have a boyfriend?? Do you have a girlfriend??” and you would say, “Yeah, Todoroki Shouto.” And they would laugh in your face. 

NO ONE BELIEVED THAT HE WAS YOUR BOYFRIEND UNTIL YOU BROUGHT PROOF!! HERE HE IS !! IN THE FLESH!! 

I feel like he would have the most culture shock? You guys conduct yourself in such a different way than his own family and from everyone in 1-A. You guys go batshit insane. 

When you wake him up and offer to walk him to the train station to take him home, he offers to walk you back to your house as well and you say, “Oh, I’m going back to the party after this.” 

It’s almost midnight?? 

He asks you where are you going to sleep or if you’re going to sleep at all and you don’t know how to explain the concept of how you and all of your cousins and siblings are going to cram into one room upstairs and sleep on every blanket in the house on the floor while only three or four lucky relatives are able to get the bed. 

Older Asians have no filter so they will straight up say to his face that he looks nothing like his dad he’ll just go, “ :’) Thank you, that means a lot to me.” 

Before Endeavor’s redemption arc he’s prone to oversharing and one day he tells your mom that his dad is a piece of shit and his mom is in the hospital. 

Your mom, taking her sandal and holding it like a weapon: Oh? Where’s your father?? I just want to talk. Your mom is welcome to every [Surname] party from now on!! Haha! (◕ᴗ◕✿)

His brain is doing backflips trying to figure out how you’re related to everyone. 

The only guy that neatly puts his shoes off to the side at the front door. 

Bakugou Katsuki: 

At first you didn’t invite him to the party, he kinda just figures it out from how your relatives are all tagging you on social media and forces you to invite him. 

Not because you’re ashamed of him but because they’re somewhat overbearing ;; and Bakugou has no filter. 

For someone who’s so “badass” he’s super anal about the rules and punctuality. 

You tell him the party is at 18:00 and by 17:45 he goes into your house and finds you still napping with your PJs on. Even though you tell him that the party isn’t really starting at six he doesn’t listen. He forces you to get dressed and takes you to the party and whatdoyouknow no one is there yet. No one is going to be here until at least two hours after the designated time. 

He instead forces you to help the women in the kitchen prepare the food, aka he’s helping while you laze around in the living room. 

All of the women are like, “Wow! You can cook so well! [Name] you should be more like him!!” 

If this is the first time he meets your entire extended family, he’s inwardly hyping himself up to make a good first impression. If you are not Japanese, he manages to memorize several greetings in your language and the proper formalities when greeting an older relative. Then he goes in and everyone’s already drinking and screaming their throats out to karaoke. 

When he walks into the party with his black tank top and saggy pants everyone’s first thought is that he’s an Asian Baby Boy. Like he probably takes social media pictures in front of cars, is going to break your heart, goes to raves, is named Kevin Nguyen. 

Everyone is loud af at this party so they don’t really care that he’s screaming. They love teasing the shit out of him because his reactions are so fucking funny. 

When one of your uncles offers you alcohol he immediately snatches it away from you. No, you guys are underage, have an athletic lifestyle, and he’s so protective of you asdfg 

He’s been so focused on being a Hero that when your cousins play against him in video games or card games he loses horribly. He’ll just keep going, “One more round!” until he finally wins. 

Your mom forces you to do a convenience store run to get something that the party is running out of and when you come back Bakugou managed to find is way into the “women” side of the room where they’re all gossiping with him and playing poker together like they’ve been friends forever. 

Your mom honest-to-god acts like he’s more of her child than you are. 

When you guys finally get your families to meet, his mom and your female relatives are going to be so powerful together. 

Is trying his damned hardest to get through the entire party because it can go all night long and he sleeps at 8:30PM. 

Kaminari Denki: 

The KING of the Asian House Party.

Absolutely CRUSHES it at karaoke with your family. Even though he might not speak your language, he’s putting so much passion into it that no one cares anyway. 

Sings so loud that the neighbors complain. 

Your family loves him because he’s just so happy-go-lucky. The life of the party. 

He goes around eating all night and continually asks you, “Hey [Name], what’s this? What’s this one?” 

You can drop him off in the designated kids room and not see him for hours on end. He’s too busy playing video games with your cousins and siblings. 

But he’s such a sucker. Your uncles and older cousins pull him into any gambling game and he loses so bad, even if he’s gambling things like candy or food. 

Kinda gullible when your family teases him?? If you’re not Japanese they teach him an insult in your language but tell him it’s a complement or “It’s like saying, I love you more than words,” and they send him off to tell you it. 

And he acts super fucking cocky like the e-boy smirk while he’s rubbing his hands together, and biting his lip and shit. While you’re just sitting on the stool with a drink in your hand like, “Okay....” 

He tells you the insult and butchers the pronunciation already, but acts like you’re about to fall in his arms and you just ;; burst out laughing ;;; until you fall off your chair. 

Has the party time down pat. He won’t arrive until three hours later, and that’s when you tell him an earlier time than everyone else. 

Will drink anything your uncle offers up. He’s a lightweight. You end up half-carrying him half-dragging him back to his house. Nearly trips on the sea of shoes outside the front door and falls on you. 

You’re just lucky that he doesn’t discharge his Quirk randomly when he’s drunk.

Doesn’t get Asian glow.  

When your mom discovers you struggling outside she just tells him to sleep over and if this is his first party with you guys, you’re able to get the bed because he’s the guest 😌😌. If he’s been here several times before, yeah ;; you guys are going back to a pile of blankets on the floor.  

Kirishima Eijirou: 

The “big brother” figure of the party. 

The kids love him and he’s willingly playing “Heroes and Villains” with them for hours. 

Since he’s so broad they hang off of him like a limpet and he walks around with children draped around him. 

Ngl... He walks into the party dressed like all of your other male cousins. 

Basketball shorts, t-shirt, crew socks. 

He’s able to find his shoes super fast at the end of the party because he’s the only person that’s willing to wear crocs. 

Willing to go outside with your cousins to play basketball with them but he’s so out of practice that he fumbles so bad. 

After several games he gets the hang of it and isn’t deadweight to your team anymore. 

LOVES going to your family’s parties because he gets to eat whatever he wants without holding back. Eats several plates and when someone suggests going to get ice cream he’s like, /gasp/ “Ice cream???” 

They were offering the little kids, but okay, a teenager can come along too. 

You’re never too old for ice cream. 

For some reason he’s able to get along with everyone at the party?? He just has a personality that makes him easy to talk to, and by the end of the night or the next day, he’s saying goodbye to everyone by name. 

[“No, wait, [Name], I haven’t said goodbye to your cousin’s sister-in-law’s daughter yet. 

You do a double-take because even you have no idea who that is.] 

When he gets a little bit older and he’s finally allowed to move out of the kid’s table and eat with the older male relatives he’s so ;;; awkward. 

They’re just all in the garage eating, drinking, and smoking and he’s just sitting there having no idea what to do. 

Eventually he convinces you to join him in the garage because he wants your emotional support and is super shocked when you fit right in. He’ll just ;;; go back to the kid’s table. 

Can’t sing to save his life. 

You guys heard him do karaoke once and you never let him do it again. 

If one of your relatives teases him he’s able to laugh it off and not think too much about it, but if they say something that might be hurtful to you he’s so quick to shut it down. He doesn’t care that they’re blood related to you or not. 

Does not let up until they apologize. 

For some reason all of the ladies are confused af when they find out that he dyed his hair?? They’re like omg is he a secret delinquent. 

LOVES to hear your relatives talk about what you were like when you were a kid. 

It’s embarrassing af but he just laughs it off like, “It’s okay, babe! You sound like you were super cute as a kid!” 

[mikauzoran]

Lila Fake-Dating/Emotional Blackmail Adrienette: Betting Against the House: Chapter Five

Read it on AO3: Betting Against the House: Chapter Five: Parental Support

“I’ll call you when I’m ready to be picked up,” Adrien advised as he climbed out of the car ten minutes later. “Thank you so much for this.”

The Gorilla gave another grunt coupled with a soft smile. He watched to make sure that Adrien made it inside the bakery and then drove off.

Tom was inside, bustling around and cleaning up for the day. He looked up at the sound of the bell above the door ringing and raised a meaty hand in greeting when he spotted his guest.

“Hello there, Son!” he chuckled, smiling with such authentic pleasure at seeing Adrien that it made Adrien want to cry.

His own father was never that happy to see him.

Adrien waved sheepishly. “Good evening, Monsieur Dupain.”

Tom’s eyebrow quirked, and he crossed his arms with an affectionate sigh. The look on his face asked, “How many times have I told you that you don’t have to call me ‘Monsieur’?”

“—er—I mean Tom,” Adrien hastily corrected and had to suppress a laugh as Tom’s face burst back into a pleased grin.

“That’s more like it,” Tom praised, waving Adrien in. “I’m actually shutting down for the night, but take your time and let me know what I can get for you.” He tipped his head towards the tray of unsold baked goods sitting on the counter next to the register. “The selection’s a little slim, but there’re still some worthy pastries left.”

“Oh, thank you, but I’m not here for the pastries,” Adrien assured.

Tom’s smile turned knowing. “Oh? Here for my daughter, then?”

Adrien’s cheeks flooded with vermillion, giving him away. He looked down at his feet, lips pulling into a smitten smile as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Actually, Nino, Alya, Marinette, and I were supposed to be having game night, but I got held up with something, so I’m running a little late.”

Tom nodded, going back to wiping down the glass cases. “Unfortunately, Marinette came home from school not feeling too good. She wouldn’t see Alya and Nino when they came by earlier, so I think game night is off. Sorry no one let you know.”

“Oh,” Adrien gulped, wilting as his face abruptly lost colour. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize Marinette wasn’t feeling well.”

He wondered if Tom was privy to the cause of Marinette’s sudden malaise.

“She’ll be okay after a good night’s rest. No need to worry,” Tom reassured, waving away his concern.

“That’s good,” Adrien sighed in relief, hoping Tom was right. “…Well… Is there anything I can do to help while I’m here?” he offered nervously, not sure he could truly be of any use but willing to try.

“Sure,” Tom responded jollily, happy of the assistance. “Thank you very much, Adrien. Much appreciated. If you don’t mind, could you put the chairs up and sweep the seating area? Broom’s behind you to the left, propped up against the case.”

Adrien turned and spotted the broom. “Uh…yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

He’d seen brooms used before. He was pretty sure he had the theory down, so it was all a matter of practical application.

“I just need to finish wiping down the cases,” Tom advised. “After that, if you like, we could head upstairs and play some games together. I’m sure Sabine would join in too. I know we’re not much of a substitute for Marinette, but…”

Adrien paused to stare back at Tom, dumbstruck. “Really? Would that…would that really be okay?”

Tom nodded earnestly, looking like he’d be giving Adrien a clap on the back if he were in range. “Yeah, of course. You’re always welcome here, Adrien. If you don’t mind hanging out with a bunch of old-timers, we’d be happy to have you.”

“That sounds great, actually,” Adrien confessed. “My father’s usually busy, so it can get a little lonely at home.”

“Yeah…I’ll bet,” Tom murmured softly, his heart going out to the young man before him as he remembered the distance between himself and his own father for many years. “I think about you sometimes, all alone in that big mansion…. You should come over more. Maybe come eat with us when your father’s busy with work.”

“I don’t think my father would let me,” Adrien chuckled forlornly. “But thank you so much for the offer. I really appreciate the fact that you even care.”

“Of course I care,” Tom scoffed. “There are a lot of people who care about you, Adrien.”

“Thanks, Tom,” Adrien replied, shooting a grateful smile Tom’s way. “It’s easy to get caught up in what I’m doing and forget sometimes. I appreciate the reminder.”

“Any time,” Tom promised, and then a teasing lilt came into his voice as he added, “But, you know, soon, you’ll officially be my son-in-law, and your father won’t have a say in you coming over for family dinner.”

Adrien burst out laughing at the outlandish thought. “Oh, I wish. Unfortunately, Marinette would have to be a fool to marry me, so I think I’m out of luck there.”

“Nah,” Tom insisted. “You’re a good catch, Son. Don’t be so down on yourself.”

Adrien looked up from the chair he’d just put up and studied Tom intently. “Be straight with me for a second. Do you actually think I have a chance?”

Tom shrugged. “I think it’s fifty-fifty between you and Chat Noir, but don’t quote me on that because I am the father of a seventeen-year-old girl. Seventeen-year-old girls don’t tell their papas anything.”

“So long as I’m in the race,” Adrien replied, trying to keep his effulgent grin under control. He failed pretty miserably and ended up smiling like a loon as he finished putting up the rest of the chairs and won a very close match against the broom.

Maybe, if he could just hold on until university, Lila would lose interest in him, and he could explain everything to Marinette. Perhaps she’d forgive him and let him make amends.

Who knew? Maybe his rotten luck would have mercy on him for once, and she wouldn’t stay mad at him for long. Maybe they could even patch things up by the end of the week.

 “Thanks again for your help, Son.” Tom gave Adrien a pat on the shoulder as they made their way upstairs to the apartment after closing down the bakery for the night.

“I don’t know if I was much help,” Adrien laughed at himself.

Tom rolled his eyes and waved off Adrien’s self-deprecating response. “Sure, you were. You eventually figured out the broom, and you picking up the chairs saved my back the trouble. I’m getting old, Adrien, so every bit helps.”

“You’re not that old,” Adrien snorted. “You’re only in your forties.”

“Still,” Tom laughed, a big, round, boisterous sound that reminded Adrien of his childhood, when things weren’t so lonely and cold. “You helped, so I’m grateful, and I’m proud of you for taking on something new. You kicked that broom’s butt.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Adrien joined in on the laughter, following Tom into the apartment.

“Sabine, look who’s here!” Tom called to his wife.

Adrien couldn’t see her from the doorway, but the simmering and popping sounds coming from the kitchen gave away her location.

Sabine poked her head around the corner, and her eyes widened in alarm when she spotted Adrien.

“Good evening, Madame Cheng,” Adrien greeted tentatively, getting the sinking feeling that Sabine thought she knew exactly of what Adrien was guilty.

“Oh. Adrien…Honey…. I’m afraid that Marinette’s not feeling well, so game night’s been cancelled,” Sabine informed him awkwardly, visibly warring with her dual instincts to be a good host and to get him to leave as soon as possible so that Marinette never had to know that he’d been there.

“Yeah, I let him know,” Tom explained. “I said he could come hang out with us, if he didn’t mind the company of old folks.”

He turned back to Adrien. “Have you eaten yet? You should join us for dinner.”

Adrien looked back and forth between Sabine’s pained expression and Tom’s eager one. “Oh. I…uh—”

“—I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Sabine interrupted urgently. “With Marinette being sick and everything.”

Tom turned to his wife, confusion carving deep trenches into his brow. “Yes, but, Sabine—”

“—I’m sorry, Adrien, but could I please speak with my husband privately for a minute?” Sabine cast Adrien a pleading smile that was a muddled jumble of embarrassment, guilt, and pity.

Reading the atmosphere, Adrien politely bowed out. “Yes, of course. I’ll just step out into the hall.”

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop as Tom and Sabine held their conversation in whispers. His hearing was just uncannily good nowadays since taking up the mantle of Chat Noir.

“What was that about?” Tom demanded, voice dripping hurt and indignance.

“Tom, we can’t have Adrien over right now,” Sabine whispered regretfully, sounding like she really was sorry to turn Adrien away. “Marinette’s mad at him because he started dating Lila Rossi today.”

Tom let out an incredulous snort. “Oh, come on. It’s probably just a publicity stunt that that rotten excuse for a man who calls himself his father is making him do.”

Adrien winced, a ferocious wave of shame crashing down on him at the fact that Tom thought so poorly of Adrien’s father. Adrien knew that Gabriel didn’t always get passing marks in the father of the year competition, but it hurt to know that things were bad enough that even other people could tell that Adrien didn’t have a good home life.

“Adrien doesn’t have feelings for Lila,” Tom continued, oblivious to Adrien’s pain. “He’s over the moon for our Marinette. If she ever asked him out, he’d die of happiness.”

The pallor of Adrien’s face was quickly replaced by a rampant blush. Apparently, Adrien was completely transparent.

Sabine held up her hands, shaking her head. “You know how Marinette feels about Lila. She feels like Adrien’s betrayed her, and she won’t listen to reason, so we can’t have him over until Marinette cools off a little. We need to be on her side in this.”

Adrien’s heart dropped down into his stomach to be corroded away by acid.

He didn’t know what he’d been thinking coming there, and now he was regretting it immensely.

“So, what are we supposed to do?” Tom challenged. “Just send Adrien away? Back to that empty mansion where they keep him prisoner so he can sit around alone until they let him out for school or work?”

“Tom…” Sabine sighed. “I know. I get it. My heart breaks for him too, but…whose parents are we?”

Chastened, Tom’s gaze dropped to the floor.

“I know,” he muttered wearily. “I know you’re right. It’s just…I’m not convinced he has a single person in this world in his corner, Sabine.”

Adrien’s heart cracked.

It felt like his ears were bleeding, and his skin burned.

“Didn’t you just tell me that plenty of people cared about me?” he thought bitterly and then, more sullenly, “It serves me right for listening in.”

Plagg stirred, yanking Adrien out of his dark thoughts.

Without a word, the kwami gave Adrien a look so full of love and support and compassion.

Plagg floated up to nuzzle Adrien’s cheek, and Adrien nuzzled back.

“Thanks,” he whispered, on the edge of tears. “I may not have any people in my corner, but at least I’ve got you, and that’s even better than people, right?”

“You’d better believe it,” Plagg snorted fiercely.

Back in the apartment, Tom kept going: “There’s no one looking out for him, and I just think of when I was young and my mother went away for years at a time and my father stopped talking to me… If I hadn’t had you, Sabine…”

Tom shook his head sadly, and Sabine went over to him, resting supportive hands on his arm and chest.

“I know,” she cooed, patting his arm comfortingly. “I feel for him too. It’s not like we can’t ever be there for him, Tom. Just not right now. We need to focus on Marinette at the moment, and, once things settle down, we can go back to trying to support Adrien. Okay?”

It was quiet for a stretch, and then Tom nodded, heaving a grave sigh. “…Okay. But what are we going to tell him?”

“I will tell him that we’re very sorry, but you didn’t realize how sick Marinette is because you were busy with the bakery when she came home,” Sabine volunteered. “Since she needs her rest, it wouldn’t be a good idea to have people over to play video games right now. I’ll let him know he’s more than welcome to come back some other day once Marinette is feeling better.”

“Okay,” Tom sighed again, raking a hand through his hair. “Tell him I’m really sorry.”

“I will,” Sabine promised.

“And can we at least send him home with some pastries?” Tom pressed, his voice leaking guilt.

“Of course!” Sabine assured, clicking her tongue. “They don’t feed that poor boy enough.”

Adrien quietly slipped away, descending the staircases quickly on cat’s feet. He couldn’t bear to face them. He didn’t think he could get through it without breaking down in tears of shame, so he snuck out of the bakery, locking the side door behind him.

As he executed his escape, he formulated a plan: go to the park next to the bakery and wait there until a suitable amount of time had passed so that he could call Victor to pick him up without having to admit to being kicked out.

The plan didn’t have a very long shelf life.

As he crossed the street to the park, he happened to look back and spotted Marinette up on her balcony, leaning dejectedly on the railing, fiddling with a rose she’d likely clipped from her flowerbox.

He stood there for an eternal moment, just taking in the sight of her, backlit by the nascent moon.

She sighed heavily enough to make her shoulders lift and drop with the force of it, and then her gaze meandered his way.

She gave a little jolt and straightened up in her surprise when she spotted him.

He lifted a hand in tentative greeting, hoping he didn’t spook her.

She huffed and tossed her head, seemingly offended by the gesture.

She dropped the rose, letting it plummet four stories to the dusty Paris street, and turned on her heel, disappearing back down into her room.

He whipped out his phone and hastily typed, “I can explain”, mentally pleading for mercy.

He waited a few seconds, and, when there was no sign of a reply, he added, “By which I mean that I have an explanation, and it’s a good explanation, but I’m not at liberty to share it with you at the moment.”

He pressed send and looked back up at the balcony, bouncing on the balls of his feet in agitated anticipation, holding his breath as he waited for a response.

Still more seconds ticked by without a reply, so he sent, “You’re just going to have to trust me on this one. Please” as he prayed for clemency.

Finally, three ellipsis points appeared on his screen, signaling that she was typing.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his heart fluttering around his ribcage, making him dizzy.

“leave me alone”

“i don’t want to hear your excuses”

“the last thing i need is to get akumatized and let Lila win so just leave me alone”

Adrien was positive that he looked absolutely crushed because he felt like he’d been gutted.

Shuffling his feet like a zombie, he made his way back across the street to scoop up the battered rose Marinette had dropped.

Cradling it carefully to his chest, he sighed, feeling hopeless.

“Don’t throw in the towel yet, Kid,” Plagg encouraged in a whisper from his hiding spot inside of Adrien’s left shoulder.

“What else can I do?” Adrien scoffed ruefully.

“Maybe not much as Adrien,” Plagg conceded, “but your sweetheart isn’t mad at Chat Noir, is she?”

An ember flickered back to life in Adrien’s eyes, and an impish grin rippled across his lips.

“No,” he chuckled. “She’s not, is she?”

[ddagent]

idk what sahd means but jb having only daughters modern au

yes I prompted all 3 of them no I have no regrets

Aaaah thank you so much for prompting! SAHD = stay at home dad. I did intend to write that version but felt it was too much like my Modern Lion Pride. So I decided to do this idea with twist. I hope you enjoy it!

“Do we really have to do this, Uncle?”

“I’m afraid so,” Tyrion said, adjusting Joanna’s collar before lamenting at the state of Catelyn; all grass stains and bloody knees. “Dearest niece, why don’t you go upstairs and get changed? Maybe into a nice—” 

It was at that point that Jaime intervened. He was already annoyed with his brother interrupting their carefully cultivated Sunday plans (chocolate crepes, two-aside in the garden, before a seafood barbecue) for this ridiculous video interview. But with the upcoming reboot of Harrenhal High, Tyrion had thought that a little extra press about Jaime and Brienne’s family would give them and the show a boost. 

Not that he or Brienne thought they needed more attention. They had received more than their fair share since he and the girls had joined Brienne on the red carpet for her latest feature. “Tyrion, Cat is fine.” He turned to his eldest. “You look great.” 

“The crew is here now, anyway.” 

Brienne’s hand slipped inside his left and squeezed; Jaime instantly biting back the comment that Tyrion was far too much like their father than he realised. Unlike Tyrion, Jaime was a good brother, which was why he, his wife of twenty years, and their three girls were lined up outside their Tarth home to meet with Melara Hetherspoon and her crew. She was petite and pretty, with curly dark hair and a smile that was as bloodthirsty as most entertainment reporters Jaime had met over the years. 

Instantly, the camera was rolling. “Jaime, good to see you.” She pressed her lips to his cheek in a kiss; pink lipstick staining his skin long after she’d moved away. “I don’t know whether you remember, but I had a three-episode guest arc on Harrenhal High.” 

“I do!” He said politely. His enthusiasm and blatant fib brought Elinor into stifled laughter; her eldest sister elbowing her in the ribs out of decorum. “You obviously know Brienne, as well.” 

No kiss this time. Not for his co-star, best friend, and wife. “Of course, Brienne, so lovely to see you again.” 

“And you.” 

“Shall we? I am dying to see where you’ve been keeping yourself all these years!” 

Together, the medley of Lannisters and press trundled into the large seafront property that Jaime and Brienne had bought shortly after Catelyn’s birth. The lounge area was fitted with panoramic windows that opened out onto the ocean; a stack of board games for their Sunday afternoon laid atop the coffee table. Melara’s camera crew got everything: from the rarely seen photographs of their small wedding to picture after picture of their girls.

A pot of tea and a plate of lemon curd biscuits were already laid out. The five of them sat in shot; ten-year-old Joanna burying herself into Jaime’s side while the other two girls sat with their mother. 

“Please, help yourself,” Jaime said, waiting until Melara had poured herself a cup of tea before helping himself to a biscuit. Elinor grabbed one, too; crumbs spraying down the front of her button-down. Behind the camera, Tyrion groaned. “They’re Brienne’s father’s secret recipe. Delicious but crumbly.”

But Melara wasn’t here for biscuits. “So. Jaime Lannister. Star of Harrenhal High. You were well-known for being a heartthrob back then. I can see somethings have not changed.” 

Jaime did not miss the amused looks exchanged between Elinor and Catelyn. He did, however, miss whatever look his wife was throwing him, although no doubt he would be informed of it later; teased mercilessly over his hunk status. “I was on the cover of a few teen magazines.”

“The front of Rose Magazine for eleven straight editions! I, uh, I still have eight of them.” Melara fiddled with her collar. “You played Jay Hill, the resident bad boy of Harrenhal High who was always flirting with Jeyne Rivers, the school’s most virtuous student.” 

Beside him, Catelyn snorted. “Gods, what a cliché.” 

“I mean, seriously!” Elinor scoffed, joining in her sister’s critique. “Who did you play, Mum? The top athlete who suffers from a trope-heavy literacy problem?” 

Brienne had, in fact, played Alys Storm: head of the girl’s football team and owner of an unrequited crush on drama geek Petyr Waters. Brienne’s own crush on Waters’ actor, Renly Baratheon, had been well-documented on set, and the writers had quickly moved on to pairing Jay and Alys in school shenanigans. They had played best friends on the show and in real life for four years. Alys had been Jay’s best woman when he had married Jeyne in a college special. 

“Talking about the show, do you ever see Catelyn Tully at all?” 

“Aunt Cat?” Joanna piped up, answering Melara’s question. “We see her on Dash once a week, and we visit her and Uncle Ned before Sevenmas.” 

Jaime grinned. “Cat was a great friend to Brienne and me. We actually named our eldest after her. She’s amazing; both Brienne and I are sad she won’t be joining us for the reboot.” 

“The reboot of Harrenhal High; such exciting news! Your return to television after being away for so, so long. Your last project was The Kingsguard, I believe.” 

Jaime stiffened. Joanna felt him freeze beside her and wrapped two arms around his middle; her blonde hair brushing his shoulder. Elinor squeezed his hand, although it was the other one that was damaged. A horrible accident, the press had called it. A terrible tragedy. In a split second, he had gone from the paparazzi getting shots of him with dates to them sneaking into his physical therapy sessions. All because of some cunts who didn’t care for being talked down to by the talent. 

“I don’t–I don’t really want to talk about The Kingsguard.” 

“But it was your last television project. Your last major project; the few screen credits you’ve racked up in the last twenty years have been from bit parts in dramatic movies or voiceover work. I mean, you were Jaime Lannister. And then you just disappeared.”

Catelyn shifted forward; both hands clutching her bare knees. “He still is Jaime Lannister.”

“Oh, Sweetling, I know, but you have to understand he was on top of the world! Any movie, any show, any girl. Then he just ups and disappears. Hells, no one even knew about you three until two moons ago!” 

Rather than grow upset, his daughters – lions, each and every one of them – went for the kill. 

“And that really upsets you, doesn’t it?”

“I mean, as a journalist—”

“—if you can call yourself a journalist; reporter may have been more accurate—”

“—the whole profession missed that Jaime Lannister not only was married but had not one—”

“—not two—”

“—but three of us!” finished Joanna, raising three fingers to the camera. “You must be really annoyed with yourself.” 

Before the lions could circle their prey any further, Brienne took charge of the interview. “We are really excited to be taking part in this reboot. We love the show, and we both felt, now that the girls are older, we could step back into the limelight. It can be so difficult with intrusive press. But not with you.” Brienne bared her teeth. “We welcomed you into our home to show you our family.”

Buoyed by the support of his wife and daughters, Jaime rose to his feet. “Come on, Melara. Why don’t we show you the rest of the house?” 

Tyrion, no doubt already on the phone with Melara’s producers, gave Jaime a supportive nod as they showed the camera crew round their home. They told stories of family dinners and baking exploits. Joanna showed Melara her dollhouse (well, doll castle) and all the Age of Dragon-era dresses she had sewn herself. Elinor went through the stack of books on her shelves and even allowed Melara to try out her hammock – and did not laugh when she fell out of it. Cat’s room was wallpapered with Tarth FC posters and a framed strip from the first team to allow women players. 

When it aired a week later, the segment about The Kingsguard was cut. There were, however, lots of shots of Jaime and Brienne and their girls looking like the picture-perfect family they really were. 

[sassanoe]

Santa Baby - Elijah Mikaelson

Masterlist

Christmas was not one of Elijah's favorite times of the year anymore. 100 years ago the love of his life was killed on Christmas by none other than his brother. Since then he had been in relationships but none of them truly meaning anything, except one. It was yet another Christmas with a lavish party and he was smiling and greeting guests when the most stunning woman he had ever seen walked through the door.

She couldn't have been more than 5'5, with curves. She seemed confident in the way she walked and in herself. Two women following in behind her seeming to have the same confidence with them though they had a date when she did not. Elijah taking it upon himself walked their way to greet his guest. He smiled, "Welcome to the Mikaelson Family Holiday Ball." The girl blushed and smiled back to him, "I'm Elijah Mikaelson and you are?" "Angel, Angel Holiday." She smirked up at him slightly. He took her hand and kissed it not breaking eye contact. "Miss Holiday, would you care to accompany me?" "I would love to Mr.Mikaelson.

The pair went upstairs to his bedroom. He pinned her to the door once they closed it. "Darling, what games are you playing?" He growled, glaring at her. "I simply wanted to see the man I am dating but it seems he doesn't want to see me. All we do Elijah is have sex and go on secret dates. So I apologize for wanting more and feeling like a used whore." She huffed, letting out a sigh he gently caressed her cheek, looking into her grey eyes. "There is nothing I would love more than to show you off but, I'm not risking my brother killing you." He said softly, "Elijah, I want to be out in the open with you. We met last Christmas, this is our tenth-month dating and our first Christmas together and if you don't say something then we are through." She pushed away from him smoothing out her dress getting ready to leave.

"Angel," He said softly pulling her into his chest, "You know why I'm doing this." She just sighed and pushed away going back down to the party defeated. "What's the matter, love?" She looked up to Klaus once she got to the bottom of the stairs, "Nothing, just needed a moment." She smiled. He offered his arm and she took it as Elijah came to the top of the stairs. She walked around with Klaus while keeping an eye on the noble original. She glared seeing Elena and Haley wrap their arms with Elijah's and smile flirting with him and chatting with the people in their group. Elijah looked up making eye contact with her, opening his mouth to say something, but she quickly looked away. "Klaus why don't we go over there." She said softly guiding him.

"Green isn't a good color on you, love." Her eyes widened, "Excuse me?" He chuckled "I've known for two months about the two of you. So why don't you flirt with me, then go on stage and sing as you do so well." She smirked slightly, taking his advice. Elijah finally looked over to where she was his brows furrowing and jaw locking. How dare she flirt with his brother, she was his, and his alone. "Excuse me, ladies." He said politely while walking toward the two. His fist clenched when she whispered into his brother's ear, her lips brushing again the shell of Klaus's ear. Quickening his pace he growled when she walked away onto the stage when he arrived at his brother.

He glared at Klaus, "Isn't she just a pretty little thing, brother?" Klaus smirked.

"Excuse me, ladies, and gentlemen, My name is Angel Holiday. I'll be singing for you all tonight." She smiled making eye contact with Elijah. "Santa baby, just slip a sable, under the tree, for me. Been an awful good girl. Santa baby, so, hurry down the chimney tonight." She sang slowly making her way down the steps into the crowd. "Santa baby, a 54 convertible too, light blue. I'll wait up for you dear. Santa baby, so, hurry down the chimney tonight." She smiled and sang the song whilst walking around occasionally running her hand along the chest of a man staring hungrily at her.

Making her way to Elijah she smirked. "Think of all the fun I've missed." She hit her hips to the trumpets. "Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed. Next year, I could be just as good, if you check off my Christmas list." She sang winking to him then getting back on stage and finishing the song. Everyone applauded and cheered for her. Elijah quickly made his way on stage, "You are never to do that again." He growled out, pulling her off the stage. "Brother. Angel, darling, you were wonderful." Klaus smirked kissing her hand. Elijah snatched her hand back. "I don't see what the problem is Elijah. We aren't dating so why are you acting like this over a simple little kiss on the hand."

Elijah raised a brow. "This is what you want? Fine." He pulled her close and dipped her before kissing her. Many people in the room gasped at the two believing both to have been single. Elijah broke the kiss, "You have been mine for ten months, and since you want everyone to know, I'll let them know." He walked on stage, "Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to announce that Angel Holiday and Myself have been dating for ten months, and tonight I have seen the looks some of you have given her. So I'm staking my claim, and Angel, my darling sweet Angel." He started walking down the steps getting down on one knee pulling out a box with a ring. She gasped her eyes widening, "I was going to announce, us tonight but, seeing as you wanted to have a bit of a fit. I will ask you now. Would you do me the honor of becoming Mrs.Mikaelson?"

[envision-fandom]

Conquest

Part 1

Peter Pan x reader fanfiction

You had been friends with Peter for years. That was if you could still call yourselves friends. Granted, you were extremely close growing up, but that was purely due to your parents being friends and them having this fantasy of you both growing up and falling in love. As if.

You had known Peter almost all your life, which is why, sitting here now, you knew exactly what he was up to. You watched as he scouted out the room, as he had done so many times before. His green eyes flickered with dangerous amusement as he notices a bunch of girls eyeing him up and giggling uncontrollably. It would have been almost too easy for him to approach the girls and walk out with one (or more) of them, but you could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t here for an easy night. He was here for a challenge.

Peter always loved games and growing up, you were almost always at the brunt of them. So much so, that you had finally had enough and decided to once and for all completely cut him out of your life. You were about to turn away and get on with your job, waitressing at Granny’s diner, when you saw the sudden change in Peters aura. You followed his eyeline and unsurprised to you, your eyes landed on a pretty blonde girl, not much younger than yourself, sitting alone in a booth. You could almost see Peters mind whirling, deciding on the best course of action. He began to approach her cautiously, taking a strategically packed book out of his bag and feigning innocence, dropped it to the ground.

You rolled your eyes, watching as the book slid along the diner floor towards her table. You were already well aware of the move he had decided to use. It had gotten pretty easy to tell after watching them all being played out on several occasions. You scoffed, knowing exactly why he had chosen this move. The book would allow him to approach her, whilst also grabbing her attention. The facade of vulnerability and embarrassment would then allow her to drop her guard and feel sorry for him, ensuring he had less of a chance of being rejected. As he kneels before her feet, he will make her feel like she is in the superior position and holds all the cards, but you knew the truth. The book will then come into play again and will allow her to initiate the interaction by questioning him on the book he is reading. This is his way into a seemingly innocent conversation.

As planned, she offers him a seat in the booth across from her. They talk some more, still using the book as the main topic of conversation. You watch as he flips through the pages, before innocently asking to move to sit next to her, as to “better show her something in the book.” It was all a ploy of course, as soon as he sits next to her, it wasn’t long before his arm was across the back of the booth, followed by her hand on his arm as she giggles playfully. He smiles sweetly towards her, but you knew his smile was far from what it seemed. As she looks away shyly, you witness the tilt of his lips, as his smile shifts briefly into a dark smirk. The sign that he was well aware that he had captured his next conquest, or as you like to see it. His next victim...

“Earth to Y/N!” Your friends hand waving in front of your face, finally pulled you back to reality, “What’s so important that you can’t even respond to your best friend?” She follows your eye line and smirks “Peter? Seriously? I thought you didn’t care about him anymore?” She questions you.

You turn to face her and scowl “Never again insinuate that I have ever cared about Peter Pan. What I do care about however, is the endless number of girls who are tricked by his fake persona and end up with their hearts broken.”

She nods in understanding “Yeah you’re right, but you can’t exactly blame them, he does put on a good show.”

You roll your eyes at your friend, as she begins to check out Peter. “Don’t you get falling for his tricks!” You exclaim.

She smiles mischievously at you “I won’t, but there’s nothing wrong with checking him out. He is the hottest guy in school after all!” You scoff at her comment, before she continues “Plus, I don’t think his tricks will work on us.”

You tilt your head in confusion at her “And why’s that?” You ask.

She smirks at you “Because thanks to your time spent behind enemy territory, we are fully aware of all his tricks, therefore rendering them useless against us!”

You let out a laugh “I think you might be onto something there.”

You stood at your locker in school the next day, waiting eagerly for your best friend to show up, politely greeting others as they pass. You stood on your tiptoes, trying to scout her out in the crowd of students, when suddenly a tall figure stands in front of you, blocking your view. You look up curiously to greet whoever has just entered your personal space, when you’re greeted with a pair of mischievous dark green eyes. Your smile instantly falters, turning into an annoyed glare “Can I help you with something Pan?”

He smirks down at you “Pan hmm? What happened to Peter? Or Petey? Oh how I miss our little pet names for each other love.”

You glare at him harder “Don’t call me that.”

He leans against the lockers, wrapping his arms around him cockily “What shall I call you then love?”

“Y/N. Or better yet, don’t call me at all.” He lets out a dark laugh, as you turn and begin walking away from him.

He soon catches up and begins walking along side you “Seriously Pan, what do you want?” You tried to act as annoyed as possible, but secretly part of you was intrigued as to why he was trying to talk to you after 4 years of not saying a word to one another.

“I thought maybe we could hang out some time, we did used to be best buds after all.” He playfully elbows you in the side, just like he used to do when you were kids. However, due to him getting a lot bigger in the four years you hadn’t been friends, the force of it caused you to stumble. You were about to fall straight into the lockers next to you, when suddenly Peters strong arms were wrapped around your body, holding you in place. You couldn't help but be engulfed in his familiar scent. He had always smelt like the forest, but now there was something else there, something dark and tempting.

You were stunned for a moment, before pulling yourself together and forcing yourself to back out of Peters arms. He smiled down at you gently, trying to apologise for knocking you over with his eyes. You were about to thank him, before you realised what he was doing. You mentally cursed yourself. You couldn’t believe you had almost fell for it! You had seen this done before. Peter “accidentally” bumping into a girl and having to save her by wrapping her in his muscular arms. You scoffed and glared up at him “Why in hell would I ever hang out with you? We haven’t been friends in years and for good reason.” You looked deep into his eyes and could have sworn you saw a flicker of hurt. You almost eased up, before once again remembering how Peter liked to play. This was most definitely an act “Just leave me alone.” You once again turned your back on Peter, allowing yourself to get lost in the crowd. Thankful that this time he didn’t follow.

You met up with your best friend at her house after school and went into detail about your run in with Peter earlier that day.

“Maybe he just misses you? You guys were close when you were younger, you used to do everything together!” Your friend suggested.

You began pacing back and forth “Misses me?” You think it over in your head “Definitely not. It doesn’t take someone four years to realise they miss someone. Plus Peter has way to much pride, he would much rather watch me die than admit he misses me. He’s after something.”

“After something? Like what, help with his homework?” Your friend once again chimes in.

You stopped your pacing to look at her “No way, despite his demonic personality, he is actually quite smart.”

“Well, you know him better than anyone, what do you think he’s after?” Your friend asks.

You sit beside her on the bed and let out a long sigh. “I have no idea, and that’s the problem. Peter likes to pretend he’s unpredictable, but I almost always know what he’s thinking or how he’s going to act. But honestly, this time I’m stumped.” You admit.

You made your way home, your mind still trying to comprehend the events of your earlier encounter with Peter. You hated how much he was invading your thoughts, but you couldn’t help yourself! It had been so long since you had spoken, since he had even looked in your direction. The whole thing was too confusing.

You opened the front door to your home and dragged yourself inside, wanting nothing more than to eat your dinner and go to sleep. Dinner was already being laid out on the table in the dining room and you began to feel a lot better after seeing the impressive spread your mother had put on. “Hey mom! This looks amazing, I’m starving.” You were about to sit at your usual spot at the table when your mother steps in front of you.

“Not so fast!” You look up at her questioningly. “We have guests coming over.” She stated plainly. “Now go upstairs and get changed into something nice.”

You roll your eyes at her but do as she says. You didn’t need to ask who the guests were. You could already tell from the wine on the table who was coming over, it was your parents and Peters parents favourite drink after all.

You quickly changed out of your jeans and into a nice skirt and top. Even though Peters parents would come to your house at least once every few weeks for drinks or a quick catch-up, you knew your mother expected you to make a bit of effort when they were coming over for dinner, as in her words “It’s only polite.” Plus you didn’t mind dressing up nice once in a while.

After brushing through your hair and applying a small layer of mascara, you made your way downstairs. You could hear laughter coming from the dinning room, signaling Peters parents arrival. You walked into the room and was just about to greet them, when you are stopped in your tracks by a pair of dark green eyes boring into you. Peter was seated opposite your usual space, smirking slightly at your shocked appearance.

“Y/N dear! How are you?” Peters mother asked, dragging you out of your shocked state. You quickly look away from Peter and smile warmly at his mother, responding politely.

You make your way over to your seat and cautiously sit down, trying to avoid Peters overwhelming stares. Luckily your parents were too invested in their conversation to notice the uncomfortable silence between the two of you. You try to focus on what his parents were saying, acting as if you were invested in their conversation, when really your mind was reeling out of control.

It had been years since Peter had last stepped inside your home, let alone come over for dinner. He was always invited of course, except his parents always gave some lame excuse he had given them as to why he couldn’t attend. But now, after what had already passed between you at school, he suddenly decided you and your family was worth his time?

Anger and confusion began to build inside of you. He was definitely after something. And you were determined to find out what.

You didn’t speak one word to Peter throughout the whole meal, but you could feel his intense stare on you the whole time, almost daring you to get lost in his eyes. However, as your friend had said to you yesterday at Granny’s diner, thanks to your knowledge of Peters moves, you were impervious to all of his charms... or so you thought.

You made your way upstairs after dinner, Peter following closely behind. You had hoped to be rid of him, but thanks to your mother insisting you show him hospitality whilst they have a few more drinks, you were now stuck with him.

You hold open the door to your bedroom, allowing the enemy access to your most sacred space. You sit down on the edge of your bed and watch Peter warily as he begins to make his way around your room. “It’s changed a lot since I was last In here.” He states, finally breaking the deafening silence.

You nod slowly “Yeah well, it’s been quite a few years...”

Peter turns around suddenly, his dark eyes landing on you “Four to be exact.”

You nod once again, honestly surprised that he had remembered.

“It looks nice...” he continues “Much better than before. Glad to see you no longer have those awful childish posters.”

You glare up at him “At least my room was never full of barbies.” You defend yourself.

Peter smirks at you, amused at your defensive attitude “I think you’re well aware they were action figures, not barbies.” He walks towards you and sits on your bed, leaning back to make himself comfortable “But I think you’ll find my room has also changed quite a bit since you were last in it.” He looks you up and down suggestively “You’re always welcome to come over and see.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Was he really trying to flirt with you?! You quickly grab one of your pillows and fling it over at him, hitting him squarely in his face.

He grabs the pillow and moves it away, laughing darkly “Do you really want to start this love?” He threatens.

You grab another pillow, ready to defend yourself “I thought I told you to call me Y/N?” You state angrily.

He lets out a small smirk “Actually love. I think you’ll find you asked me not to call you at all.”

You launch another pillow at him, fed up with his flirtatious wit, except this time he was ready with a counter attack.

Soon enough pillows are being flung back and forth between you, which suddenly results in a full blown war. You were about to attack with another direct hit to Peters face, when you all of a sudden stumble and fall forward into him. You land hard against his chest, your body lay across the top of him. You were engulfed once again in his rich scent, the smell almost drawing you in, tempting you to take in more.

“Y/N?” Peter suddenly whispers, his warm breath tingling your ear “Are you okay love?”

You pull back suddenly, shocked at your own sudden dark thoughts aimed towards Peter.

You straighten up, avoiding his intense gaze. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry. I fell... I didn’t hurt you did I?” You pull yourself together and risk a glance in his direction, tying your best to keep yourself composed.

“I’m fine love, as long as you’re not hurt.” For a moment he almost seemed genuinely worried, and you could feel yourself open up to him. That was until you could see him holding back that devilish smirk. You couldn’t believe it. He thought he had got you.

After spending the entire day wondering why Peter had suddenly approached you, it never once crossed your mind that you may be his next conquest. 

Well two could play that game...

[haro-whumps]

Group Whumpees: 1. Start

Inspired by this post by @whumping-every-day​ and @justtorturewhump​ about a group of whumpees. I’ve been thinking about it on and off ever since I saw it but I finally got the giddyup to actually write for it

CW: Modern slavery, implied + referenced abuse, death of a minor character, multiple whumpees, transphobia (brief), aftermath of torture/conditioning

--

Galo settled himself into the hospital chair, perfectly comfortable and positioned at a thoughtful angle to the side, opposite the door so physicians could easily enter. He’d intended for this to be a quick visit, but clearly his aunt had other ideas, so he might as well take a seat.

“Here I am on my deathbed!” Auntie Bethany raved, flinging her arm about wildly, and Galo internally winced each time she got too close to jerking on the IV, “Only ONE person comes to visit me! In my whole family!”

To be fair, your whole family is made up of jackasses, Galo thought privately, raising his hands in placation. “Auntie Bethany, please, you were just admitted today. I’m sure plenty of people will show up tomorrow.”

“None of them want to visit me, even when I’m going to die!” she persisted. To be fair, Galo didn’t really want to visit her either. He just… well, she was family. And she was in the hospital. And even though his family was estranged and largely filled with self-centered, arrogant individuals that made any kind of holiday event a stomach ache and a half, he tried not to be. So here he was. 

“You’re not going to die, Auntie Bethany,” Galo said patiently. “You’ve had this surgery before, remember? And you made it through just fine. I bet the same surgeon still works here, even!” Galo tried for a positive tone, cheerful. 

“Ah, you’re such a good niece for your dear old aunt, sweetheart.”

“I’m your nephew, auntie, we’ve been over this,” Galo said through grit teeth, smile significantly more forced now. This is why no one likes you, Galo thought.

“That’s why I’m leaving you all of my estate, darling,” Auntie Bethanie continued like she hadn’t heard him. Galo blinked twice.

“I’m sorry, what?” Galo asked nicely, sticking his pinkie finger in his right ear as though to clear it out. “You’re…”

“I have my lawyer coming to the hospital,” Auntie Bethany said, “Go get me a pair of socks. They keep it so damn freezing in here.”

Galo rose and went to the cabinet, pulling out the soft yellow cloth and helping the socks onto her feet.

“I had planned to split my estate between everyone who showed up, but you’re the only one! So you get the jackpot, you’re welcome!” she said, well, nearly-shouted, as Galo tugged the socks on over the socks she was already wearing, struggling with the tightness. He was strong; daily visits to the gym had his arms thickly muscled, his chest broad, but he wasn’t exactly trying to break his elderly aunt’s foot here, so he couldn’t just shove.

“Thank you, Auntie Bethany,” he said, trying to sound actually grateful and not just tiredly patient. So this was her newest passive-aggressive ploy. After Galo told the rest of the family there was money involved, the others would show up with their plastic smiles and loud voices and then she would get to gripe at how they were only in it for the money, but change the will up anyway to keep them visiting. She liked to play “games” like that. Galo tried very, very hard not to sigh. 

It’d probably keep up after the hospital stay, too, Galo mused as he sat back down in the chair. People showing up to her home with flowers and wine and “earnest” attempts to make sure she was recovering just fine. Honestly, who knew how long she could drag this out? Her poor lawyer. He hoped she was at least paying them well.

The lawyer did, in fact, arrive, and Galo quietly apologized each time his aunt criticized or scolded the poor man.

“You’re uh, gonna need to use my legal name,” Galo said, handing him his driver’s license. “Not the uh, childhood nickname she keeps calling me.”

The lawyer gave him a sympathetic pat, and it was hours after Galo had planned that he finally managed to get out from under his aunt’s endless conversation and go home already. He sighed, dropping his coat on the floor of his small apartment’s entryway. For all that he was competent, intelligent, and good with organizational skills and the like; Galo had not been particularly successful in his life. He was good with people and good with life skills, he just. 

Bluh!

Bluh bluh bluh! Now was not the time for a pity party, or else he’d turn into his aunt. He played an hour of his most recent video game, an open-world with a semi-voluntary plot, before turning in for the night. He should think about investing in a rabbit or something. He could eek out the money, and his apartment got awfully lonely, with just him, a computer, and a potted plant.

In the morning, he knew he should email his family and let them know Auntie Bethany wanted visitors, and she was messing around with her will. He should. A good son, nephew, brother, and cousin would. But then his dad would call him, asking for specifics (it never mattered how many specifics Galo put in the email. His dad would always call and ask for more), and that would mean talking to his dad and he really, really wasn’t ready for that, at the moment. Or at all. He could do it later. It wasn’t like Auntie Bethany was actually dying, after all, she was just up to her hysterics again. And god, if Galo’s sister or brother decided they wanted more than just an email… if they decided to “pop in” after visiting their aunt and gloat to Galo about how now it was their names on the will…

Oh and don’t even get Galo started on what Uncle Mike would do. He was a bigger attention whore than Auntie Bethany.

So he just… didn’t write. Didn’t call. Nothing that big was happening, they could afford to wait a few days before feeding into Auntie Bethany’s weird games. She could probably use a little disappointment for the first time in her spoiled, nasty life anyway.

Galo took a deep breath and covered his face with his broad palm. He shouldn’t think like that. That was uncalled for. Auntie Bethany was a fine person, she was just rude, and loud, and inconsiderate. But she was family. He should be polite. But, still, it would be fine if she had to wait a little while for everyone to get in on her weird ploys.

So imagine Galo’s surprise when the hospital called him after work, letting him know his aunt had, unfortunately, not made it through her surgery.

--

Her mansion (and that’s really the only word that could describe it, though “castle” was more fitting, in Galo’s opinion (it had an estate garden, who has an ‘estate garden’?!?!)) was huge. Galo had made that observation before, of course, every time he’d spent the weekend as a kid and the couple of times he’d visited during a family gathering. He couldn’t really believe it was his. The castle, the pool, the garden, all of her badass furniture he’d been warned to keep off of as a kid, her hella entertainment system that he honestly couldn’t wait to hook his game consoles up to. Didn’t she also own slaves? He wasn’t certain; he tended to get as drunk as possible as fast as possible at family gatherings, in order to survive said family gatherings, but he was pretty sure she’d mentioned putting away her servants for the evenings since they were “eyesores” or some shit. And he definitely remembered her having one when he was a kid, a glass-eyed guy only about a decade older than Galo himself.

Whatever. He unlocked the front door with her keys, attached to his keychain now, and took in the familiar foyer. He should go upstairs and check if her turquoise guest room was the same as when he was younger. It had an en suite bathroom with a bath the size of a hot tub, and it could definitely serve as his new master bedroom. Auntie Bethany’s had been the size of a ballroom, and he really didn’t need all that space (or to sleep in the same bed his dead aunt had slept in, guh).

“Mistress, w--” a thin woman with pale hair and over-wide eyes entered swiftly, then flinched back, grinding to a halt when she saw Galo.

“S-Sir, I’m sorry sir, but our mistress is out at the moment. You will have to visit her at a later time.”

“Oh, uh, I’m, not a home invader,” Galo assured, setting his little potted plant down near the antique vase his aunt had boasted about so frequently. The poor lady was trembling visibly, though he had to give her credit for not screaming and calling the police upon seeing a stranger enter her home. He probably should’ve called out and introduced himself when he let himself in; he’d just been thinking about how Auntie Bethany had kept slaves. “My aunt had a relapse, recently, and was admitted to the hospital yesterday. Uh, her surgery didn’t go so well,” Galo said, rubbing at the back of his neck. He needed to shave down his undercut, he thought rather inanely. “She didn’t make it. I uh, I’m sorta the sole inheritor of her estate? For the time being; at the funeral I’m sure we’ll get into plenty of arguments,” he said with a forced chuckle. 

“My name’s Galo,” he greeted, extending his hand to the woman.

He was a little taken aback when she genuflected and kissed his palm, dropping fluidly and with unexpected grace. “Oh, uh, okay,” he said, cupping her face and stroking a thumb over her cheekbone. Except, whoops, that was the wrong thing to do, he realized, since her face contorted and her whole body locked up.

“Shit, sorry, didn’t mean to hurt you,” Galo said, pulling his hand away immediately. She went down on both knees and pressed her forehead to the floor, further confusing Galo, her movements still fluid as silk.

“I apologize, Master. I reacted poorly.”

“No, no,” Galo rushed to reassure, his words making her flinch. “You’re good, you’re fine, it’s alright,” he tried, and that went over a little better. 

“I apologize if I have angered you, Master.”

“You--didn’t. I’m just, surprised is all.” He bent down and touched his fingers very lightly against the back of her hand, and he noted that she flinched again. Okay. Probably a trauma response. His aunt had likely picked her up from somewhere bad, but that was alright. He had significantly more emotional intelligence than Auntie Bethany; he was better suited to help this kind of person than she was. Would have been.

“Will you tell me your name?” Galo asked, voice intentionally calm and reassuring.

“...” He watched her swallow, his brows furrowing. Did she… not know her own name? “Whatever pleases Master best,” she eventually answered.

“Oh,” Galo said, voice soft and pitying. “No, that’s alright. You can tell me what you’d like to be called.”

“I--wouldn’t, be presumptuous, Master, and put words in your mouth.” Man, she was shaking like a leaf. He would definitely be stuttering, if he was that scared.

But a direct approach clearly wasn’t going to work, here, he couldn’t just do it over and over again and expect different results. He’d come at this from a different angle.

“You’re so obedient,” he praised, stroking a finger down her fingers and along the back of her hand, light as a feather. “You’re very good, you were trained to answer just like that, weren’t you?”

“Yes Master,” she said, sounding relieved. Good. 

“But right now, what I’m asking for is your name. If you don’t like the one Auntie Bethany called you, that’s fine, you can pick something else, but I’m not going to think of one for you, okay? I need you to do that, now,” Galo said patiently, feeling a little silly for talking to a grown adult in the same tone he might take with a crying child, but, well. Trauma response.

“Nyla, Master.”

“Good girl, Nyla.” He heard her breath of relief, and tapped the backs of his knuckles against her hand. “Stand up for me?” he asked, slipping his hands underneath her palms. He rose, and she stood with him, again with that eerie grace, pretty much none of her weight against his hands, although he had intended to help her up. 

“So, is there anyone else here I should meet?” Galo asked, smiling patiently at Nyla who did not meet his eyes at all. “That other guy. Gr… G-something.”

“Greyson, if it pleases you Master.”

“That’s it! He still around?”

“Yes Master. I can fetch the others for you, Master, and bring them to wherever you’d prefer to inspect us.”

“Uh,” Galo blinked twice. Okay. Nyla was clearly going to require a lot of delicacy, and while he was definitely equipped to do that, he wasn’t fast. “Sure, how about you get the others in the--” No, not the living room, the furniture in there was all tiny and mostly just for her weird 60’s aesthetic, “--den.”

He mentally added “den” onto his brand new list of things that made Nyla lock up. He should probably turn it into a physical list, at some point, since he was going to live with her now, and it was important to make note of things like this.

But the damage was done, and maybe this would be a good way to show her his aunt’s den wasn’t like… whatever it was, that she’d experienced before here.

His den. It wasn’t his aunt’s anymore. Auntie Bethany was dead.

It was a weird feeling, he thought to himself as he grabbed his potted plant and went upstairs to the guest bedroom that was, in fact, still just as cool as he remembered it. He set it on the windowsill of his house. It was a weird feeling, a really weird feeling, that someone he’d known all his life was suddenly… gone.

He didn’t miss her. He didn’t like her, and they certainly hadn’t been close. He wasn’t mourning her. But. Hm. His grandparents had all died before he could remember them, so he hadn’t really had a death in the family before. It was strange and almost-melancholy, thinking that his aunt would never again walk through this place. Would never hassle him about his hair at family gatherings ever again, or complain about the TV being too quiet, or eat cantelope with her mouth open.

He shook himself. He had other people to say hello to and introduce himself to. He gave his cheeks two smart pats and left the room, mentally plotting where he would put his own personal effects. And ugh, he had to get rid of that weird hall painting. Actually, why not just do that now; he was there and it was large, but if he gripped under the frame on top he could sorta-shoulder-carry it down the stairs. The weight wasn’t much of an issue. He was a particularly buff stud, after all.

“Oh, there’s more of you than I expected,” he mentioned offhand, reaching the den. Five slaves stood at strict attention, ignoring the human-sized furniture he’d intended them all to sit on, including a girl who couldn’t possibly be older than twenty. He stared at her, a muted horror not quite breaking past the shock. She was absolutely covered in bruises. Some were purple, some yellowing, some bright red and fresh, hardly older than two or possibly three days.

“Oh god,” he breathed, very, very deliberately reminding himself to move slowly as he approached her. Poor thing! Had she fallen? The bruises differed in age too much for that. He reached out a hand to her, slowly, well within her field of vision, but she still flinched.

“Master!” Nyla interrupted before he could touch. “That one is Lilah, she’s the gardener for the estate.”

A little thing like her? The whole estate? Using the machinery needed to keep up with a yard this big, no wonder she was covered in injuries! She was way too small to be handling stuff that could hurt her like this!

“Nice to meet you, Lilah,” Galo said gently, extending his hand again, just as slow and careful as the first time. Lilah sank to one knee, almost as fluid as Nyla, and kissed his palm, which. Alright! Cool! Sure! Maybe Auntie Bethany had gotten Nyla and Lilah together? 

Galo gave her a single, quick pat on her head, not wanting a repeat of whatever distress he’d caused Nyla in the foyer. Lilah was tan and freckled, with sunbleached brown hair, and wow, yikes, she was so small. Galo swallowed and turned to the next person in the lineup.

“Greyson,” Galo greeted with a smile. He looked a lot like he had when Galo was younger, just sorta gaunt now. Reddish-brown hair that was only just starting to sprout a handful of gray hairs, tall and skinny with knobby hands. “Remember me?”

“I do, Master Galo,” Greyson said with a bow, hand raised to his chest, and Galo chuckled.

“Good to see you again, dude. It’s been years,” Galo said, leaving his hands in his pockets. He’d already met this guy, however long ago that it might have been.

“It has, Master, I am delighted to see you again,” Greyson said, monotone and still bowing, but Galo was inclined to believe him. Greyson had always been like this, as near as he remembered.

“Look a little different than last time, huh?” Galo asked with a proud grin. Greyson lifted his head and quirked a very, very small smile of his own.

“I believe you’ve put some weight on, Master.”

Galo made note of how everyone else in the room tensed up at Greyson’s words, but he also laughed. “You bet I have,” Galo bragged, flexing an impressive bicep, before taking a mental red sharpie and writing DON’T DO THAT around the action in big letters. Lilah looked like she might cry.

He’d have to catch up with Greyson later. Or, well, get to know the guy? He hadn’t had much interest in the man when he was a kid, more preoccupied with the pool and old movie collection. He turned to the next person, a man closer to his own age.

“What’s your name?” Galo asked, calm, friendly smile that he used during work on his face.

“Evan, if it please you.” Evan had fluffy dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and strong, handsome features. 

God, everyone here was really formal. Greyson, he got. Again, the man had always been like that, but man. They sounded like they all came out of those weird books Auntie Bethany was always reading.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Evan,” Galo said, doing a little wordplay, and Evan lowered his eyes deferentially. Galo lifted his hand to maybe clap him on the shoulder or rub at his own hair or something, but Evan knelt mid-motion and kissed Galo’s hand and okay! Maybe his aunt had been the one with the hand-kissing-thing after all. That was weird as hell to think about, and Galo was gonna try not to.

“This is Sasha, Master,” Nyla stated when Galo turned to the last person in the room, a woman with thick, curly, dark hair and wide blue eyes. She was pale as a ghost. “If you will allow it, she does not speak very well, and I am capable of speaking for her, Master.”

“Okay, sure,” Galo said, not going to push too hard for information on that. And he wasn’t, like, gonna tell them no, either. If this was what made them comfortable, then alright, he could deal with that. “Nice to meet you, Sasha, you don’t need to kiss my hand.”

Sasha nodded tensely, and ugh, maybe he should have let her? Now she was the odd one out. Well, Greyson hadn’t either, so…

Nope, don’t overthink it. Galo could tell there was going to be plenty for him to overthink, moving forward, and he needed to get into the habit of cutting that in the bud right now.

“Alright, so, nice to meet you all,” he already said that. “I’m new, and I’m gonna be honest, the fanciest thing I’ve ever owned is my computer rig, so I’m probably gonna make a couple mistakes in the whole… running an estate, thing, at first. You’re all allowed and encouraged to make suggestions or tell me if I’m doing something stupid on accident, okay?”

It didn’t look like that was okay at all, but Nyla nodded with a “Yes Master” anyway so eh, Galo would take it.

What should he say now? Telling them they were dismissed would make him feel like a hoity toity jackass, but it also felt kind of lame to just… leave it at that. “I’m also a little slow,” he warned, “so please be patient with me. Sometimes I need an extra couple of seconds to think things through.”

“Understood, Master,” Nyla answered again, Evan swallowing nervously at Galo’s words. Yeah, he was definitely going to have to make physical lists of weird observations. Everyone here looked like they had trauma they were processing. Yikes. His aunt was hardly a philanthropist; why would she take in this many skittish people?

His stomach ended up saving him from further floundering, gurgling loudly. Lunch had been so long ago...

“Master, may we prepare dinner for you?” Nyla asked, swaning down to her knees and bowing her head low. 

“Yeah, actually, that’d be great. I’m allergic to mushrooms so nothing with those, please.”

“Yes, Master. Is there anything you’d prefer tonight?”

Hm. They seemed to like direction, and giving them a solid lead would probably be kinder than forcing them to think for themselves and worry about what he did or didn’t like. But at the same time, he had no idea what his aunt kept stocked.

“How about pasta with white sauce?” he suggested. Open ended, basic ingredients that they were pretty much guaranteed to have, and easy to make. And relatively quick; he was hungry.

“As you wish, Master.”

“Cool. I’m gonna start going through my aunt’s stuff. Lemme know when it’s ready.”

Galo left the den with a “Yes Master” chasing his heels, and rubbed at the back of his neck. Goddamn, these people were not having a great time. But that was okay. Galo was confident he could help.

Next

[omnivorousshipper]

Heyyyy! Can we have The Shaw siblings moving in with their mother and finding out how different life is than with their father. You can add a sprinkle of ✨past trauma✨ if you'd like.

Hey! I think I've done a similar prompt to these a long time ago, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to find it so I can find it for you

Btw. I'm making some lore here. Mama Shaw's first right hand man is name Jules, while second right hand man (so when the Sibs are adults) is named Jeffery and would be played by Colin Salmon (an amazing actor)

Warning: slapping, child abuse

~~~

When Deckard had answered the door one day, he had been shocked to see his mother standing there, a dangerous smile spreading over her face as she took in his bruised face. He has to wonder what she'd do if she found about the bruises and cuts on his back

She had given him a hug, a box of sweets, and asked where his father was. When he said the pub, she had asked if he and his siblings would like to go out for dinner. This had shocked Deckard. His parents had never taken him and his siblings out to eat before

Well, he could remember eating at a restaurant when he was really little, so probably before Owen was born. So, he had readily agreed and rushed to get Hattie and Owen ready

Luckily, the opportunity to do something made them behave as Deckard brushed their hair and got them into their favorite dresses

Dinner was an amazing affair, even if Deckard had to keep reaching over and whipping his siblings' faces of ice cream afterwards

Their mother seemed happy to talk to them and asked all about their school and hobbies. But Deckard couldn't help but see the dark glint in her eyes when none of the siblings talked about their father

When they had arrived home, several men were standing outside, but their mother simply ushered them inside. Standing in the living room had been another man and their father

"Ah, Jules. It looks like you've found my wayward husband." They mother had said smoothly, voice like silk wrapped around a knife. Deckard tightened his gripe on his siblings' hands. "Why don't you take the children upstairs while I have a talk with their father."

Deckard didn't trust this Jules person, but he smiled kindly at them as he gently coaxed them up the stairs. He had a small radio on him and let Owen play with it, the sound loud enough for Deckard not to hear any distinct words out of the shouting below them

Both Owen and Hattie had fallen asleep by the time their mother had come up stairs. Deckard had gotten them into his own bed as he talked with Jules. The man was very knowledgeable about knives

"Dex?" His mother called. She had changed clothes and her face looked recently washed. But his eyes still narrowed on the few drops of blood resting at the base of her neck, even though he couldn't see any cuts on her

"Yes, mum?"

"I want you to help your brother and sister pack tomorrow. I think it's time I let you three spend more time at your grandfather's farm."

Deckard frowned but nodded anyway

---

It had been half a year since that day and Deckard still hadn't gotten used to living in the country. His brother and sister might enjoy running around the large fields and getting dirty, but Deckard found himself missing the busy streets of London

Their grandfather's farm house had gotten a huge improvement as their mother had knocked down the original house and rebuilt it to be bigger and more spacious. Their grandfather was happy to have more room for his grandchildren. Especially with how rambunctious they could be. And with all the parties their mother seemed to enjoy throwing

Which, she was having one at the moment. She had firmly told them to stay out of sight and away from her guests. Deckard had no trouble following that order, but his siblings, that was a different story

He had been so absorbed in a book, he hadn't heard Hattie sneak out of his room. Owen was still absorbed in the football game he was listening to while she had grown bores

Hissing under his breath, Deckard snuck downstairs with her and hoped he would find her before their mother. He finally spotted her at the end of the hallway, just about to peek into the dinning room

He gently grabbed her elbow and whispered

"Hatts, we need to go back upstairs!"

"But I'm bored!" She whined as he pulled her back towards the stairs

"Oh? Now, who would you two be?" A loud voice called out, making the siblings freeze. Deckard swore he almost swallowed his tongue

Turning around, he saw many of his mother's guests peering out of the dinning room to look at them. Their mother looked livid

"My sister's kids." She lied easily. "You know she's always been found of babes."

"You're lucky to be an aunt to the cutest kids!" A woman cooed and waved at them. Deckard smiled politely and nodded

"Sorry, we need to get back to bed." He apologized. "Busy day at school."

With that, he dragged Hattie upstairs and back into his room. He could only hope they hadn't ruined the evening

---

Two hours later, with the guests gone and Owen and Hattie in bed, Deckard was called to his mother's study. She leaned against her large desk and narrowed her eyes as he stood in front of her, head bowed

"Deckard, I remember giving you explicit orders tonight. What were they?"

"Stay out of sight and be quiet." He mumbled

"And then, why did you and sister interrupt my meeting?"

"I didn't mean to," he sulked, raising his head to meet her eyes. That was the wrong move

His head snapped to the side as she slapped his cheek. A sharp gasp left his lips. It wasn't that the slap hurt necessarily; it stung, but he had experienced worse.

It was the shock that his mother had hit him that sent him nearly into tears

"When I give you an order, Deckard, I expect you to follow it to the letter. Understood?"

It took him a few moments to find his voice

"Yes, mum."

"When I tell you to keep your siblings in line, I mean it." She snapped

"Yes, mum."

"Make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Yes, mum."

"Good. Now get out of here."

Deckard didn't waste a second leaving the office, hand rubbing his cheek and ignoring the tears streaming down the stinging skin

~~~

I hope you enjoyed friend!

[thelastspeecher]

Superhero/villain AU - Playdate

I was looking through my AU Word docs for Inspiration for Stanuary, and stumbled across this scene that I never finished.  So I decided to finish this scene.  It stars Emmett McGucket, who sort of inadvertently became the star of the Superhero/villain AU lmao.

Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

              Emmett opened the door to his house.

              “C’mon in,” he said nervously.  Carter punched his arm.

              “You don’t need to be anxious around me, man.  Hell, I’m the one who should be nervous.  I might get to meet a famous supervillain.”

              “…Probably not,” Emmett said, stepping aside so that Carter could come in. “Ma’s at her day job and Uncle Lute got called in to help his crew.”

              “That’s unfortunate,” Carter remarked.  He entered the house.  “Oh, well. At least I get to meet your dad and your sisters.”  He grinned at Emmett.  “I’m a bit curious about whether they’re actually as wild as you say.  I mean, compared to you, just about anyone’s wild.” Emmett flushed.  “I’m just teasing, relax.”

              “Yeah, I, uh, I knew that,” Emmett said weakly.  He closed the door.  “I’m glad your mom said you could finally come over.  You didn’t get lost on the way, did ya?”

              “Nah.”

              “And did you walk or-”

              “I biked.”  Carter eyed Emmett.  “Do you really wanna talk about how I got here, or show off your house a bit?” Emmett smiled.

              “Good point.  My room’s upstairs.”

              “Awesome.  Oh, before you show me your room, my mom told me to bring something over.  Apparently that’s the nice thing to do or whatever. So…”  Carter removed his backpack and dug around in it.  “Ah ha!  Here!” He handed Emmett a large candle. “You can give that to your dad.”

              “When he gets home, I will.”  Emmett brought the candle into the kitchen and set it on the counter.  When he returned, Carter raised an eyebrow.

              “He’s not home?”

              “Nope.”

              “But…he’s a stay-at-home dad.  Where is he?”

              “He, uh, he had to go run some errands,” Emmett fibbed.

              “He’ll be back before I leave, though, right?”  Carter grinned at him.  “I’m starting to wonder if he doesn’t exist or something.  You’re so secretive about him.”

              “Nah, he exists.  He’s just a bit uncomfortable with the whole villain thing,” Emmett said with a shrug. Carter shook his head.

              “That’s so weird.”

              “Hey, Emmett!” a voice shouted from the second floor.  Footsteps thundered down the stairs.  Daisy stuck her head around the corner to stare at Emmett and Carter.  Her eyes widened.  “Ooh, you have a friend over?”

              “Yes,” Emmett said.  “Ma and Dad said it was okay.”

              “Hmm.”  Daisy approached the two boys.  She crossed her arms.  “You’re short,” she said flatly to Carter.  Carter grinned.

              “I’ve seen you guys’ mom before.  I’m not nearly as short as her.  Or as Tsunami.”

              “True.”  Daisy continued to look Carter up and down.

              “Did you want somethin’?” Emmett asked.  Daisy shrugged.

              “Yeah, but since you’ve got a guest, I’ll just harass Emily about it.” She burst into flames and flew away. Carter’s jaw dropped.  He turned to stare at Emmett.  Emmett smiled weakly.

              “I told you my sisters were all elementals.”

              “Yeah, but-”  Carter chortled.  “Man, I wish my family had cooler powers.  When we show off, it’s not nearly as fun.”  Emmett’s smile strengthened.  “Anyways, do you have any fun video games?”

              “I don’t really play many video games, but my dad and Danny like to play Need for Speed.”

              “Hell yeah!  Lead the way.”

-----

              The video game session was interrupted a few times by Emmett’s sisters, who were incredibly curious about his friend and not bothering to be polite about it.  Eventually, Emily settled down in Stan’s favorite armchair in the living room, silently reading a book on pyrotechnics and occasionally glancing over at Emmett and Carter, playing video games from the floor.

              “So, Emily, do you think you’ll be the next Sirocco?” Carter asked after winning yet another round.  Emily shrugged.

              “Maybe.  Depends on when Ma decides to retire.  I don’t wanna steal her codename while she’s still usin’ it.”  Emily turned a page in her book.  “Dunno if I’ll go the full villain route, though.”  Carter whipped his head around to stare at her.

              “What?  You’re thinking about being a non-villainous Sirocco?  That’s insane.”  Carter shook his head.  “See, this is why it was stupid that your parents didn’t send you all to Sycamore Grove. Now not all of you will be villains!”

              “Well, Dad’ll be happy about that, at least,” Emily muttered.  Carter set down his controller and leaned back against the couch.

              “This mysterious ‘dad’ again,” he drawled.  He looked at Emmett.  “Seriously, where is he?  He’s not doing a very good job of being a stay-at-home dad if he’s not home.”

              “He’s got other things to do,” Emily said.  “And we’re old enough to watch ourselves anyways.”

              “Fine, I’ll drop it,” Carter muttered.  He turned his attention back to the game.  “So, Emmett, you said all your sisters were elementals.  Emily’s an aerokinetic, what about the others?”

              “Danny’s a cryo, she gets that from our Ma’s grandma,” Emmett said.  “And Daisy’s a pyro, she gets that from Dad.”

              “Your dad’s a pyro?”

              “Yeah.”

              “Honestly, I didn’t even realize he was a super,” Carter commented.  “Why isn’t he a villain?  He married one and he’s got the right power for it.”

              “Not all supers are masks,” Emmett said.  “I mean, I don’t think I’ll wind up being a mask.”

              “But to marry a mask and not be one-” Carter started.  Emmett paused the game.  He looked at Carter.  “You guys are pretty touchy about this.”

              “Well, yeah,” Emily piped up.  “You think we haven’t heard this same line of questionin’ from Ma’s coworkers?”  After a moment, Carter nodded.

              “Fair point.  So-” Whatever else Carter was about to say was interrupted by a loud crash in the backyard.  “What the hell was that?” Carter asked, getting up.  Voices carried from outside.

              “You almost crushed me there, Pines.”  Emmett and Emily exchanged a look.

              That sounds like Uncle Lute.

              “Excuse me for not having a perfect landing while I’m bleeding out, Gucket,” Stan snapped.  Footsteps sounded on the back porch, which led directly into the living room via a sliding glass door.  The door opened.  “Who put the curtains down?”

              “Prob’ly one of-” Lute started, pulling back the curtain.  He paused, catching sight of Emily, Emmett, and Carter, who were all staring at him.  “Um.” Before anyone could say anything, Lute suddenly tumbled out of sight with a yelp.  “Son of a- Emily, get yer father off me ‘fore he flattens me.” Emily jumped to her feet.  As she went to help, Emmett grabbed Carter’s hand.

              “We should prob’ly go upstairs.”

              “What?  Why?” Carter asked.

              “This seems like something that we shouldn’t-” Emmett started.  Danny and Daisy raced down the stairs.

              “We saw Dad crash in the yard,” Danny said breathlessly.  “Is Ma-”

              “Yes, yer mother’s on her way, but right now, we need to move yer father to the couch,” Lute said, pulling the curtain open.  The action revealed Stan, unconscious and pale, being partially lifted by Emily.  And, to Emmett’s dread, his father was in his superhero outfit.

              “Come on, Carter, we need to get out of the way,” Emmett said, pulling Carter up from the couch and dragging him upstairs.  His power dampener beeped.  Once they reached the landing of the second floor, Carter pulled his hand free.

              “Did you try to control me?” Carter asked quietly.

              “What?  No!”

              “Your power dampener just lit up.”

              “I- sometimes when I get worked up- I still wear the dampener for a reason,” Emmett stammered.  Carter looked back down to the first floor.  “No!”  Emmett’s dampener beeped again, making him grimace.

              “What the hell is going on?” Carter demanded, still looking into the living room from above.  “Is that- is that your mom’s archnemesis?  That looks like Flamethrower.”  Emmett broke into a nervous sweat.  “Why did your uncle bring an unconscious superhero to your house?  And why-”  Carter’s eyes widened.  “Your uncle called him your dad.  So did your sister.  And you said your dad was a pyro, which Flamethrower is.”  Carter swore softly.  “Your dad…is Flamethrower?”

              “Can- can we talk about this in my room?”

              “Yeah.  Sure.”

-----

              Once Emmett had closed the door to his room, Carter looked at him expectantly.

              “Care to explain why your dad is a superhero?”

              “I…I don’t know, to be honest.”  Emmett crossed over to his bed and sat down.  Carter sat next to him.  “I told you the first day we met that I didn’t know how my parents met.  Which isn’t completely true – I know how they met. But I don’t know why they became a couple.  From what I understand, they didn’t get along for years, then, out of nowhere, they became a couple and had Danny and Daisy.”

              “What’s the exact timeframe here?” Carter asked thoughtfully.

              “Pardon?”

              “How long between your parents getting together and your older sisters being born?”

              “I…”  Emmett stared at his friend.  “Are you suggesting that my parents got together because my dad got my ma pregnant?”

              “It’s a possibility.”

              “But how would my sisters have gotten conceived if they were still enemies?”

              “Oh, like you haven’t noticed how steamy some fights get,” Carter scoffed. “You pin your enemy against a wall, their eyes stare directly into yours…”

              “Ugh!  Okay, I get it, just-”  Emmett grimaced.  “Stop makin’ me imagine that happening with my parents.”  Carter snickered.  “At the end of the day, though, the timeline isn’t important, and neither is the way my parents got together.  What’s important is that they’re married and love each other now.”

              “Yeah.”  Carter shook his head.  “That’s weird as fuck, man.  No wonder you’re always so cagey about your dad.”

              “If anyone found out…”  Emmett’s throat abruptly became choked up with fear.  “My uncle told me that, back when Danny and Daisy were still really little, one of Dad’s coworkers found out he married a supervillain.  The coworker went rogue and kidnapped Dad.  My ma rescued him, but it was a big mess.”  Emmett met Carter’s eyes.  “You can’t tell anyone.”

              “What would happen if I did?” Carter asked.  Emmett’s heart broke.  His expression must have shown this, because Carter quickly backpedaled.  “I won’t!  Sorry, I didn’t- I’m just so used to playing devil’s advocate that I said that without thinking.”

              “I don’t know what would happen.  But I would definitely never be able to see you again.”

              “Well, you don’t need to worry, ‘cause I won’t tell a soul,” Carter said firmly. Emmett smiled.

              “Thank you.”  There was a knock.  “Yes?” Danny opened the door.

              “Dad wants to talk to you and yer friend,” she said, looking directly at Carter with a cold gaze.  “Come on.” Emmett and Carter exchanged a look, then stood up and followed Danny downstairs.  Stan was on the couch, still wearing the bottoms to his heroing outfit, with a large bandage over much of his bared torso.  Thankfully, he was now awake and drinking a can of Pitt Cola.

              “Glad yer okay, Dad,” Emmett said quietly.  Stan grinned at him.

              “Takes a lot more than what happened today to put your old man out of commission.”  He looked at Carter.  “Sorry about ruining your playdate with Emmett.”

              “Dad!” Emmett yelped.  Stan chuckled.

              “I’m just teasing, sport.  Seriously though, Carter, this isn’t how I planned on meeting you.”

              “Shit happens,” Carter said with a shrug.  Stan nodded.

              “I like that attitude.”  His easygoing demeanor abruptly vanished.  Emmett swallowed, recognizing the stony expression on his father’s face.  Stan was shifting into what Emily called “take no shit mode”.  “Look, kid, you can’t tell anyone what you saw or think you saw today.”

              “Don’t worry, I already told Emmett I’d keep it a secret,” Carter said. Stan looked at him doubtfully.  “I don’t want to mess up my best friendship. Or anger one of the most powerful families in villainy.”  Stan nodded.

              “Smart.  Even if Angie and I have to go into hiding with the kids, the rest of her family won’t have to.  And you know exactly how dangerous the McGuckets are.”

              “Yes, sir.”

              “You’re giving me your word that you’ll keep my secret identity to yourself,” Stan said.  Carter nodded.  “I need you to say it, son.”  Emmett noted with some amusement that the way Stan said his last sentence reminded him of someone.  He glanced at Danny, who, judging by her expression, had also picked up on it.

              He sounded just like Grampie Gucket.  Carter, somehow not quailing under the force of Stan’s stare, nodded again.

              “I give you my word that I won’t tell anyone your secret identity, Emmett’s dad.”  Immediately, Stan left “take no shit mode” and chortled.

              “You can call me Mr. Pines, kid.  That’s what Emmett’s sister’s friends call me.”

              “Ah.  Okay. Mr. Pines.  Your secret is safe with me.”

              “Good.”  Stan got up from the couch, poorly stifling a groan of pain.  Danny crossed her arms, scowling.  “Princess, don’t give me that look.”

              “You shouldn’t be getting up, Dad.  If you need something, I can get it.”

              “Nope.  No dice.” Stan clapped Danny on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go call your ma to let her know I’m not unconscious anymore.”

              “Are my services as a human ice pack no longer needed, then?”

              “Yes, sweetie, you’re free to go.”

              “Great.”  Danny went back upstairs and ducked into her room.

              “Dad, I think Danny’s right,” Emmett said.  “You should be laying down.”

              “Nope!  You and your little friend can get back to playing.  Whattaya think for dinner?  Spaghetti? I gotta get started soon if it’s gonna be ready at a reasonable time.”

              “You’re making dinner?” Carter asked.  Stan raised an eyebrow.

              “I’m a stay-at-home dad when I’m not getting stabbed by villains.  Feeding my kids is my job.”

              “But you just got hurt.”

              “Eh.  I’ve had worse.”  Stan grinned. “My wife’s given me worse.”

              “Dad!” Emmett whined.  Stan chuckled.  He walked into the kitchen.

              “Why’s there some candle in here?”

              “My mom told me to bring a gift over,” Carter called.

              “Nice,” Stan said.  “Very classy.”  Carter looked at Emmett, amused.  Emmett shrugged.

              “He’s right.  Bringin’ that was pretty classy.”  Carter laughed and punched Emmett’s shoulder.

              “You’re funny, ‘Met.  C’mon, let’s get back to me kicking your ass at video games.”

[bitletsanddrabbles]

WIP Wednesday: Dash it, Jeeves, which way’s the bedroom?

Given that I was just complaining about my inability to find a blue print to Highclere’s upper reaches, it seemed appropriate that today’s snippet be from one of the spots where I most wish I had one. And so we see Bertie Wooster, guest of Lord Grantham, enacting one of his most brilliant schemes ever despite the fact that Jeeves, his  brain clearly starting to go at last, did not see it’s genius and advised against it.

Also, I think every writer should do at least one short piece in the style of Wodehouse at some point. It’s terribly fun.

Cut text because it’s rather long.

As I predicted, Horatio took one look at me, standing in front of his beloved with a carving knife, and leapt to the most dire conclusion. As I predicted, he swiftly moved to protect the delicate object of his affection. As Jeeves had predicted, I seemed to have underestimated the vehemence of his reaction. His face turned a decided aubergine colour. His mustache bristled. I couldn’t swear but that a couple puffs of smoke didn’t go billowing out his nose.

I took a step backward.

He took a step forward. He slowly extended his hands in the general direction of my neck.

I took another step, with him following. It should never be said that Woosters are cowards, but on the third step, me retreating and this lumbering beast coming after, something broke inside me. I dropped the carving knife and bolted. There was a bellow like an irate hippopotamus and the sound of footsteps behind me and I knew, without looking over my shoulder, that the chase, as they say, was on. The halls of Downton Abbey quickly took on the semblance of the Valley of Death and I, without making reply or reasoning why, charged through them. Someone had blundered, and that someone was Bertram.

“Now Horatio, I know what you’re thinking,” I tried to reason as I hastened myself down the gallery. “That can’t have looked very well at all.”

“I’m going to break your spine in five places and then beat you to jelly!” was the well reasoned response.

I decided to save my breath for running. Downton Abbey is a very squareish sort of building. The gallery runs around the periphery so that Horatio and I could have been running in circles, or more to the point squares, all night. Given the floor we were on, that didn’t seem preux to the gently nurtured guests, so when we reached the stairs, I transferred floors as smoothly as possible with the goal of reaching my own room, sequestering myself inside, and locking the door. Perhaps the Girton-Brattle menace would be more inclined to conversation if the option was breaking down a piece of solid oak. It was a sound enough plan, but there were two hitches. The first was that I lost some speed on the stairs, putting my neck in closer proximity to those iron bending hands. The second was that while trying to make up the lost time, I inadvertently turned the wrong direction upon reaching the bachelor’s quarters, thus charging away from my room, rather than towards. It occurred to me to try and correct, but the time I realized my mistake, my pursuer had reached the top of the stairs, so reversing course would have been to deliver myself to the jelly pot.

The next step, it seemed obvious, was to cast around for a hiding place. The problem there was that Horatio was so hot on my heels that he’d see where I had stowed myself and be after me like a dog with a ferret gone to ground. Also, while there were doors aplenty, I had no idea which rooms were occupied and one does not like to simply charge in on a chap while he’s relaxing for the night. As a last resort, I started to cast about for some sort of weapon. I somewhat regretted not holding on to the carving knife. On the other hand, that was a rather short range weapon and would have involved putting myself within grabbing distance, something I was eager to avoid. If I could have gotten in one of the rooms, a fire poker or something of the sort might have been acquired which would have done the trick. As a bonus, I likely could have hidden behind a door, giving me enough cover to spring from behind. I finally spotted a niche in the wall ahead, one of those places where decorations are put to make a place look a bit dressier and, if I remembered correctly, this one housed a vase. Not the ideal means of defense, naturally, but at least something I could lob at the thick skull with enough force to do some useful damage. I could only hope that the vase was not some priceless heirloom, rife with sentimental whatnot. One really does not want to go about breaking his host’s sentimental doodads, but this was an emergency.

I had almost reached my goal when there was a sort of thudding noise behind me and the air was coloured with some less than polite sentiment. Under the oath I thought I heard a polite, “Terribly sorry, sir,” but I didn’t stop to investigate until I had reached the aforementioned niche and was hoisting the previously noted vase that resided there in. Only then did I turn around to see what had transpired. Of course, having missed the actual incident, I had to do some guess work, but what I surmised was as follows:

As Horatio Girton-Brattle had come plummeting down the hallway, intent on Bertram’s demise, Mr. Barrow had stepped from one of the side rooms. In doing so, he had impeded Horatio’s forward momentum, either with a door or his body, in full or in part. Horatio, not thinking clearly, had been so incensed by the interruption, that he had given up his pursuit of yours truly and now had Barrow pinned to the door by his neck. The room beyond that door must have been occupied, because I was aware in a dimmish sort of way of banging from the interior and an indecipherable sort of yelling.

The truly surprising thing was how unperturbed Barrow seemed to be by the whole thing.

“Watch where you’re going, you miserable little worm!” Horatio’s loving words were clearly audible, even at a bit of a distance.

“Terribly sorry, sir,” Barrow repeated. He sounded neither agitated nor particularly sorry.

Apparently Horatio picked up on the lack of true sorrow. I’m not certain, but I think I heard the gnashing of teeth. “I should beat you to a jelly, tripping me like that.”

Now, a mere mortal would have quailed at the thought. There would have been stammerings and possibly pleadings. But apparently this Barrow was made of sterner stuff than most men, because all he said was, “I wish you wouldn’t, sir. It would make a mess of the hall rug.”

It is said that the best of men lead by example. That their good deeds and gallantry will inspire the lesser men. So it was in this case. The words of this butler among butlers inspired me to gather my courage. If he could face down a raging Girton-Brattle, then why not I? It helped that the confrontation had put Horatio with his back to me. It seemed but the work of a moment to retrace my steps and, with one swift motion, bring my weapon down upon the head of this fearsome specimen, hopefully with enough force to incapacitate him. The only cause for hesitation was, as before, the inevitable demise of the vase and my uncertainty as to it’s value. I had no great desire to be thrown out on my ear at this late hour.

My decision was made for me when a noise emitted from Horatio much like I would imagine a pipe explosion in a mechanics factory would sound. That it is to say it was loud, sort of whistling, and seemed to spell doom for any and all near the blast area. Unable to simply let Barrow stand there and be jellied after he had, purposefully or not, saved me, I started forward, vase raised. Fortunately for the vase, and possibly for Bertram, if I’d not managed to connect with enough force, before I arrived a very authoritative, most vexed voice demanded, “What on earth is going on here?”

I came screeching to a halt, the vase being instinctively tucked into a safe place under one arm. I had not immediately recognized the voice. It was familiar, but something about the tone made it so I couldn’t put a finger on the speaker. I was therefore somewhat surprised when Lord Grantham strode into view, his face set with righteous anger. At tea and dinner he’d looked like a mostly mild mannered sort of old boy, perfectly happy sipping his port and playing with the dog. I wouldn’t have imagined him to look quite so much as a big game hunter advancing on an elephant that’s had the poor sense to trample the lion he was hunting, particularly as he was wearing a dressing robe. A short way behind him was a tall, broadish looking chap with an odd gate that I soon realized was due to his leaning on a walking stick. This, I surmised, was Mr. Bates. Behind Mr. Bates shimmered the familiar and trusted form of Jeeves.

If all I had to write in this piece was Bertie’s PoV, I’d probably have finished by now, novel or not. Unfortunately it also requires Jeeves’s PoV which Wodehouse only wrote once and which is really rather slippery to get a hold of. But you need that upstairs, downstairs feel for it to be properly Downton...

[chilling-seavey]

Amoureux (c.s./d.s.) - Chapter Fourteen

A/N Song for this chapter is Slow Dancing in the Dark by Joji. The lyrics are too real for this story and the vibes are immaculate. 

A/N2 This is a bit spicy...proceed with caution...

The ballroom was set up with long tables dressed with white linens and the most expensive china for the dinner party the following afternoon, the butlers spending the entire day preparing the event to be perfect. Daniel was kept out of the palace as everyone knew he would some how cause havoc on the preparations for his own enjoyment – or at least that’s what they expected him to do. Recently, Daniel was too preoccupied to even think about his usual little pranks on the palace workers, too hung up on a certain French princess and how to get his brother gone.

Jonah was supervising the youngest two children by the pond, annoyed that his formal duties now seemed to be down to simply being a babysitter. He was surly not impressed with it. Even still, he sat and read as Anna played pretend among the trees, trying to get Daniel to join who was too busy daydreaming as he stared across the pond to where Christian and Louisa were riding the horses.

“Jonah.” Daniel finally spoke, trying to push his little sister away who was tugging at his arm.

“Yes, Your Royal Highness?” Jonah answered without looking up.

“What would happen if Christian didn’t want to marry Louisa anymore?”

“That is not an option.” Jonah said.

“But what if he said I could marry her instead?”

The older man finally looked up from his book with raised eyebrows and he titled his glasses down his nose to peer over at the boy.

“Dani, please!” Anna whined, smacking her hands against his shoulder.

“Go away, Anna. I’m having a conversation.” Daniel gave her a small shove and she fell backwards onto the grass. She simply glared at him and got up with a huff before stomping off.

“Did he say something to you?” Jonah asked.

“No, no. Just wondering.” Daniel shrugged. “Would I be King then?”

“No. You would not. And Louisa would no longer be on her path to becoming Queen. You would be Duke and Duchess.”

Daniel hummed in response, picking at the grass under his feet.

“You would only be King if Christian abdicated the throne or passed away. You would be next in line to the throne.”

“Oh, I don’t want to be King.” Daniel shook his head as he glanced back over at Jonah. “I’m not stuck up enough for that role.”

“Stuck up? I would not say that one would have to be-“

“Christian would be a good King.” Daniel continued, glancing over at the couple far across the grounds. “I guess.”

“May I ask what is with the sudden inquiries, sir?”

“Nothing in particular. Just wondering.”

“You will be assigned a bride when you turn twenty as well, Your Royal Highness. Do not fret. Your time will come.”

Daniel frowned.

“Daniel!” Anna wrapped her arms around his neck. “Please play with me!”

“Alright, alright.” Daniel grumbled and got himself up from the grass, letting his little sister pull him into the trees to be bossed around to her crazy rules in the newest game she just made up.

~~

Louisa cleaned up from horseback riding in plenty of time for the dinner party, Mary helping her into a dark blue down with a deep neckline and puffed sleeves that sat off the shoulder, her hair set in its usual curls down her back and her bangs tied back from her face with a matching blue ribbon. The Royal Family was led into the ballroom together, standing to welcome each guest to their event before everyone took their seats, Louisa tucked securely on Christian’s arm. At the table, Christian was across from Louisa as usual, sharing his gentle smiles to her as often as he could. Daniel was still on Louisa’s right, just like in the dining room set up, and he had to smother his smug smirk into his glass at the luck of it all, a smug smirk that no one would have caught onto anyway but the secrecy of it all was thrilling.

After his little escapade with the letter, Daniel had expected her to turn him in but her nearly eager response was pleasantly surprising. They found themselves slipping letters under each other’s bedroom doors before supper which was the perfect time to not be caught, giving them something a little daring to read before bed. Daniel and Louisa were both young at only sixteen, both sheltered and unsure of the realities of adulthood, but to them, their few arguable love letters were more than enough to keep the risk of their little ‘relationship’ heightened to the point of exhilarating.

The dinner party was the last place either of them wanted to be really. Christian was head of conversation as his father, the two of them leading a discussion of recent parliamentary goings on, especially regarding America’s Revolution which they were still feeling ripple effects from. Louisa simply focussed on her meal, trying not to let her mind wander too far. It was difficult, however, with Daniel sat beside her, close enough that she could smell his cologne and nearly feel his warmth, wanting to sneak off from the table in the middle of the meal. She could only hope that Christian would turn the attention to her to get her mind out of where it truly didn’t belong.

Her wish was granted as everyone turned to look at her, Christian’s beaming smile making her hesitate mid-bite of her meal.

She glanced around shyly, “I am sorry. What was the question?”

“Are you looking forward to the wedding?” Christian repeated one of the guest’s questions.

“Oh, yes, very much indeed.” Louisa grinned, straightening up in her chair a bit more. Christian smiled at her. “It is hard to believe that the day is almost upon us.”

“Only three more weeks.” The Queen added. The table filled with excited exclamation, all of the guests to be present on the wedding day itself.

Louisa nearly startled at the hand on her thigh and she resisted the urge to look at Daniel in fear of giving him away. The weight of his hand on her lap was comforting and agonizing all in the same and she dropped her right hand under the table to slide her fingers into his. The conversation continued; Christian, as usual, taking the lead as she sat back and simply listened. Daniel kept his hand in hers as they continued eating, Louisa thankful for being left-handed at a time like that as to not be found out by something as minuscule as suddenly switching hands mid meal. She kept her focus on Christian across from her as Daniel’s thumb rubbed soft patterns over her skin. She glanced at Daniel casually, meeting his cheeky smile for a brief second before looking away again.

He gave her hand a squeeze before sliding his fingers out of hers to set back on the table. Louisa couldn’t deny she wished he didn’t move away and it took a lot to keep herself from reaching back over to take his hand again.

The night was long and terribly boring after a while, Louisa and Daniel sitting beside each other in silence, Daniel’s usual remarks too used up to even be funny anymore and they just stared at the wall blankly, offering polite responses and smiles when they were spoken to. When the dinner concluded, the guests were ushered outside to their carriages with formal goodbyes from the Royal Family who saw them off.

Christian and Louisa said their private goodnights to the family once they were back inside and he set his hand on her back as he led her upstairs to bed after the long evening festivities. They stopped outside her bedroom door and he took her hands in his.

“I wish we could have spent more time together tonight.” he whispered to avoid his voice carrying across the hallways and down the grand staircase they were stood nearly right beside. They didn’t notice Daniel watching them from the landing, tucked behind the banister.

“Me too.” Louisa smiled gently, giving his hands a small squeeze.

“You looked absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

“Thank you.” Louisa blushed, welcoming his lingering kiss to her lips. He pulled back just as quickly and she dropped her gaze to the carpet.

“Sleep well.” Christian said, letting his hands fall out of hers as he headed across the palace to his own bedroom.

Louisa sighed deeply and ran a hand through her hair, her expression nothing but uncertainty and a bit of heartache that Daniel caught from his hiding spot. He watched her head into her room and close the door quietly behind her.

Mary was already in Louisa’s room with the fireplace lit and the wash basin and everything prepared for her to get ready for bed. The lady in waiting helped untie the princess’ hair and brush it out in front of the mirror and helped her out of her gown and hung it up as Louisa got into her white nightgown. The women spoke softly about their days and what happened, Louisa talking about her ride with Christian around the grounds and how she was getting more comfortable on horseback and even bit him in a bit of a race although she was sure he let her win. She didn’t feel quite ready to go past a steady trot yet.

When she was washed and changed and ready for bed, Mary said her goodnights and left the princess alone for the night. Louisa glanced around the room for a new letter but found none so she carried her single candle over to her night table and set it down as she got into bed for the night.

She hadn’t even had time to blow out her light before her door was opening slowly. Louisa stayed silent in slight fear as she held the candle out in front of her to try and see through the dark room to who was coming in.

“Just me.” Daniel whispered, shutting the door behind him and rushed over to the foot of her bed.

“Dani, what are you doing here?” Louisa asked softly, pulling the sheets higher over her as she sat in her nightgown. Men were definitely not allowed to see women in their nightwear, and she found herself quite embarrassed as he stood at the foot of her bed with his own candle, staring at her.

“I missed you.” Daniel climbed carefully onto her bed, kneeling on the end with the burning flame held in his hand.

“You should have come earlier. I am in my nightgown.”

“I am too.” Daniel giggled, looking down at himself dressed in his own white bedclothes.

He shuffled up closer and leaned over her to set his candlestick holder next to hers on the bed side table before sitting down next to her against the pillows. The candlelight flickered warm dancing shapes over his soft features and Louisa couldn’t help but let her gaze drift over his face, how his hair was a bit of a mess and falling over his forehead, light eyes wide and full of thrill from the secrecy of his little adventure to get to her, and his lips just as perfect and pink and alluring as always. Louisa took a deep breath and looked forward again, twisting the diamond ring around her finger nervously.

“Are you staying here tonight?” she asked softly.

“If I am permitted by you.” Daniel answered.

Louisa licked her lips as she looked back to him, feeling him close to her as he was curled up facing her on top of her bedsheets. She nodded, biting back a cheeky smile as he grinned at her and shuffled under the blankets with her. A strange feeling was burning in her chest, her eyes drifting past him to her desk drawer that housed his few letters, the words feeling more than a bit of a youthful and silly fantasy now. She felt more drawn to him than ever, shuffling closer to push her lips against his before she could even second guess it.

Daniel raised his hand to her cheek to keep her close, smiling into it as she kissed him strongly, her hand setting against the mattress beside him to keep her upright as she was leaned in towards him. They stayed like that a while, hung up on each others lips like always, until Daniel was slowly sliding an arm around her waist and rolling them over. Louisa fell back softly against the fluffy white bedsheets and down filled pillows, staring up at him with slight uncertainty but still nothing but desire in her face.

“This okay?” Daniel whispered.

She nodded, breathing out a soft, “yes” as she pulled him down to kiss her again.

The feeling of him on top of her was strangely comforting, her arms wrapping themselves around his body to hold him close as he kissed her like his life depended on it. The dark, candlelit room was filled with the sounds of their deep kisses and the ruffle of sheets as they slowly and carefully stripped out of their nightwear.

It was a mess of kisses and soft apologies and awkward shifting and plenty of blissful giggles, the two sixteen-year-olds too wrapped up in their reckless love and thrilling secrecy to even worry about the awkwardness of it all. Their eye contact was nearly unbreakable, their noses touching lightly in close proximity and soft kisses shared when their lips would brush. The candlelight flickered off the diamond ring still on Louisa’s hand that was tangled in Daniel’s dark hair, sending small stripes of warm light across the bedroom walls.

His name falling from her lips was Daniel’s favourite sound, more than any piece by Mozart or Bach or even Boccherini; if only he could have her and her beautiful soft voice, it would be the only music he would need for the rest of time.

Louisa was never one to truly live in the moment, always hung up on one thing or another in the back of her mind, but in that very moment she was only focussed on Daniel and how she wanted nothing else but him.

When the candles burnt out and the sheets and pillows were a mess on the bed, the two young lovers were laid side by side curled up, breathless, in each others’ arms. They shared small kisses and gentle touches, as if they couldn’t still get enough of each other, before finally drifting to sleep.