#He sets up playdates with Box Lunch

[topguncortez]

The Origin of Honeybee

pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader (OC: Bea Clark) word count: 3.5k warnings: angsty, smutty, language, teen pregnancy, religious trauma themes Bob & Bea Masterlist | Opposites Attract Masterlist

It was a fairy tale love story. The two high school sweethearts who were never seen apart. But, it had started before that fateful day in junior year when Bob found the bravery to ask you out officially. He knew you were going to be his from the first day you walked into his father’s 5th grade classroom. You had started the school year late, beginning in October. Your mom had taken over for a teacher who decided to quit during the school year. Mr. Floyd had introduced you to his class, and Bob couldn’t take his eyes off you. 

You were mesmerizing, your eyes hidden behind a pair of blue glasses, your hair in pigtails which you had fought your mom on saying that they made you seem too little kiddish, and the most noticeable, a bright pink cast on your right arm. You had taken the only open seat, right next to Bob, by his father’s desk. You two didn’t say anything, paying attention to the math lesson his dad was teaching. It wasn’t until you went to lunch, you sat at the only empty table, opening your purple lunch box and pulling out the PB&J your dad had packed. Bob walked over to you, you looked up at him,

“Can I sit with you?” He asked shyly and you nodded. He sat across from you, opening his Superman lunch box. The two of you sat in silence for a couple moments, eating your home lunches until Bob spoke up. 

“I’m Bobby,” Bob introduced himself softly.

“Beatrice, but everyone calls me Bea,” You said.

“What happened to your arm?” He asked.

“Fell off a four wheeler at my grandma’s house,” You said wiggling your fingers, “They had to put a metal rod in,”

“Are you serious?” Bob asked, his blue eyes wide. 

“So serious,” You said with a smile. The two of you didn’t separate for the rest of the day, getting to know one another. At the end of the day, Bob walked over to you, he didn’t say anything but held up a black magic marker. You nodded and held out your casted arm, and in very scribbly handwriting Bob wrote his name.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

It was from that point on, the two of you were inseparable. No one ever saw Bob without Bea, and vice versa. They had moved on from playdates after school, to begging parents and older siblings to take them to the roller rink, to sneaking sips of alcohol at Bob’s older brother Ben’s legendary bon fires. You were lucky to have someone by your side to battle that awkward first of high school, where everyone was starting to change, but they never seemed to change. The only change was that Bob’s father had died your freshman year. You sat by his side the whole time during the funeral, holding his hand and occasionally wiping a tear from his face. 

“Have you been asked to homecoming?” Ben asked you, as he sat on the couch in the Floyd family basement. 

You shrugged, you were shy, no one had noticed you outside of your friends. You had gotten braces over the summer, and were constantly checking the wires on your teeth in the screen of your phone. You had also started the joyous life of being a woman. Puberty had hit both you and Bob. You guys had now started to move into that awkward phase of life, where you were trying to figure out what was happening and if you found someone else attractive or if it was just the newly released hormones.

“Well since it’s your first homecoming, I’ll take you. . . and Bob.” Ben said and glared at his younger brother who was setting up his model train set. 

Bob was thankful that Ben had asked you to go with both of them. It made it easier for him to suppress his feelings a little longer. The only person who he confided in about how he felt was Ben. Bob wasn’t jealous of your relationship with his brother, your and Ben’s relationship was brother-sister. You constantly butt heads but would make up with a joke or buying the other food. Ben had purposely ditched the two of you at Homecoming to dance with Megan Stevens, making you and Bob have to not only talk to each other alone, but dance with each other too.

Freshman year fall faded into the summer, and the boys were busy working on the ranch. You hardly saw the two of them unless you were helping their mother Elizabeth cook dinner, or they needed your help with something. While Bob was sweating in the sun every day, you tried out for the cheer team and made it. You had fallen in love with the varsity quarterback, Logan Brooks, and had decided to join the cheer team. You got your braces off and had figured out a good hair care routine. Your new found confidence was radiant, and the boys could see it.

Much to Bob’s dismay, you had started to slip away from him, spending more time with your new cheer friends and boyfriend. Bob had fought his shyness and stood next to his older brother in the front row of the stands during every football game. Ben knew that Bob didn’t care much about the team, but was there to watch your bright smile as you cheered along the side lines. 

“I don’t even understand football,” Bob said.

“It's easy,” Ben said, explaining the game to him, but Bob absent mindedly nodded along, his eyes looking at you cheering in front of him. 

“If you don’t ask Bea to prom this year, I’m gonna ask her,” Ben said, snapping Bob out of his daze.

“What? Why would you do that? And what makes you think she won’t go with Logan?” Bob said.

“Cause Logan’s eyes aren’t staring at Bea’s ass right now,” Ben said and pointed towards the quarterback, who’s eyes were looking at another girl. 

Bob grimaced and frowned. He saw the way you smiled and hugged Logan’s sweaty frame as he walked off the field after winning. Bob also saw the way Logan was looking at another girl from the other team, as you talked to him about how good he did during the game.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

“I don’t even know what I did wrong?” You cried, rubbing your nose with a crumbled up Kleenex. Ben was standing in the doorway to his and Bob’s room, as you sat on Bob’s bed. Some sad song was playing on the record player and Bob was handing you more Kleenex. 

Logan had started to be secretive and distant. He was constantly on his phone, hiding it from you. The nicknames and PDA had stopped, and so did most of the daily conversations between the two of you. It wasn’t until you went to deliver him some cookies for his birthday that you had spotted the white BMW in the driveway. He opened the door, shirtless and light bruises covered his abs and collar bone. He didn’t even have to say anything, but you knew. Logan had called out to you as you threw the cookie dish at his car and flipped him off walking away.

“We should go egg his house,” Ben said, “Or go all Carrie Underwood with a Louisville slugger,”

“Ben,” Bob said and shook his head no, “He’s an idiot, honeybee.” The nickname that Elizabeth had given her years ago fell so easily from Bob’s lips, “He didn’t even realize how lucky he was to have you,” You looked up at Bob, those E/C that he had fallen in love with wet with tears. He sat next to you on your bed, his arm thrown around you, while Sam sat in your beanbag chair, “You want to watch a movie?”

“Tommy Boy?” You asked, it was your favorite movie, you could almost quote it word for word.

“Well, thank you both for the invite but I gotta go pick up Olivia for our date,” Ben said, winking at his younger brother. Ben came and kissed your forehead, “It’ll all be okay, Bea. But if you wake up and see my face on the front page for egging or slashing a hole in all four tires, it was for a good cause,”

You laughed at the boy and Bob said goodbye to his brother. You two settled in, watching the movie. At some point in time you had both fallen asleep, but when you woke up, Bob’s arms were wrapped around your waist and your head was on his chest. It was then that you realized that you were falling in love with your best friend.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

There was an obvious shift between the two of you. Everyone could see it, Bob’s siblings, Ben, your parents, Bob’s mom. It was just a matter of time until you two could see it. You both felt the love you had for each other, but both were too stubborn and scared to act on it. It wasn’t until you brought home another boy that Bob knew his window of opportunity was closing. So while you were walking around, pacing the basement floor ranting about whatever his name was, Bob stood up.

“Bea, he doesn’t deserve you. None of them do,” Bob said, “Does he even know your favorite flower? Or what color do you prefer of your favorite flower?”

“No but-“

“It’s orange roses,” Bob said, “You said you hate the cliche white and red, that you prefer orange but will settle for yellow. You fell in love with them when your grandma accidentally planted an orange rose bush when she got sick with dementia. She tried to dig them up, but your grandpa told her that they were unique and beautiful just like she was. You said that was the moment you believed in true love.”

You looked at Bob, his honey brown eyes staring into yours. Your body moved quicker than your brain, and you grabbed his face, connecting your lips together. He grabbed your hips, pulling you into him as you both melted into the kiss. It was like time stopped, and fireworks exploded behind you.

“Ah!” Ben yelled, opening the basement door, “Mom! It’s happening!” He smiled and ran over to go get his mom, leaving the two teens who now had deep red blushes across their cheeks.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

You and Bob seemed to be even closer than ever before. Like always, where anyone saw Bob, you were surely to follow. When they told their friends that they had finally started dating, everyone let out a sigh in relief followed by a “finally”. It seemed as though you and Bob were the only ones who were oblivious to the love that you both had for each other. 

Prom was supposed to be the most important night of a young girl's life, but you were absolutely terrified. You had been hyper fixating on your dress and thinking of all the things that can go wrong when you put it on. Your mother did your hair, deciding to curl it and leave it down. Your dress was black, you went for simple (partially because it was what you could afford). Bob was just as nervous as you as he sat on your couch, your dad staring him down. He held onto the plastic box with your corsage with all his might. He was sure that he was sweating through the rental tux. The moment he heard your mother come down the stairs and he stood up, his blue eyes going wide. 

“My god, honeybee,” Bob sighed out and your father glared at him. Bob walked from the couch over to the bottom of the stairs and held his hand out for you. You smiled and took his hand, “You’re gorgeous.” 

“Thank you,” You said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “You clean up nicely.” 

“Oh, Bea, be nice to that boy,” Your mom said, “Get close for pictures!” 

You probably took a thousand pictures in front of your fireplace. Your face was hurting from smiling so much. Bob had spent all morning cleaning his truck so you didn’t get your dress dirty. He helped you get into the old Ford, making sure that no part of the dress would get stuck in the door. Your mom smiled fondly at the two of you as you drove off. 

“They’re going to get married someday,” Your dad muttered and looked at his wife, “He looks at her the way I look at you.” 

“I know,” Your mom said and kissed her husband. 

You and Bob danced until your feet hurt and he ended up carrying you in his arms back to his truck at the end of the night. There was too much excitement in the air to just go home and go to sleep, so instead, Bob drove you out to the old Oak tree in the middle of his family’s ranch. The night was clear and you could see all of the stars from where you laid in the back of his truck. He put a blanket down so you wouldn’t dirty your dress and you would be somewhat comfortable. 

Though stargazing only lasted so long, and soon enough you were in a heated make out session in the back of Bob’s truck. His hands were grazing all over your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Your hands tugged on his long locks, his curls curling a bit under his ears. You loved his longer hair, you thought it made him look perfectly older. 

“Bob,” You moaned as he kissed your neck. 

“Yeah?” He asked, grinding his hips into yours. 

“Make me yours,” You said barely above a whisper. Bob pulled away from you and looked at you. 

“Are-are you sure?” He asked, caressing your cheek, “We don’t have to do anything just cause it’s prom night. Hell, that’s such a dumb-” You cut him off by kissing him. 

“Bobby,” You said, holding his jaw with your hand, “Make me yours.” 

“Don’t gotta tell me twice, honeybee,” Bob said, his voice a bit raspy as he leaned back in and kissed you. You guys fell into a frenzy of roaming hands and kisses, stripping each other of your clothes. You guys looked at each other, having to see each other naked and being intimate for the first time. You laid under Bob, eyes roaming all over his body, “You are even more perfect than I imagined,”

“You imagined me?” You smirked and Bob blushed.

“Once or twice,” He said and leaned in to kiss you, “Do you want to do this?” He asked you again, his blue eyes full of love.

“Make me yours, Bobby.”

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

You had been sicker than a dog for nearly three weeks. Bob was starting to worry when you missed yet another day of school, but you were just too weak to even climb out of bed. He had gathered your homework and planned on stopping by to give it to you after school. But the frantic text from you had him rushing into the parking lot and speeding to get to you. 

You were sitting on the couch in tears when he arrived, your mother and father sitting across from you. Bob felt like he just walked into the middle of an intervention, the air was thick with tension. He called out for you, but you shook your head and your father stood up from his chair. 

“Robert Floyd,” Your father’s voice was gruff and all Bob could do was nod, “You got my little girl pregnant?” Bob’s head snapped to you and you seemed to be crying harder than before. 

“I’m so sorry,” You cried and Bob looked back at your dad and nodded. Your mom let out a gasp and left the room quickly, not being able to look at you any longer. 

Your father ran a hand down his face and then put his hands on his hips. His eyes looked at you, “Get out of my house, Beatrice.” 

“Daddy,” You stood up from the couch.

“Wait, Mr. Clark-” 

“You disobeyed the bible!” Your father’s voice was loud and rattled you to your core. Bob watched as you began shaking like a leaf in the wind, “I will not have a sinner and a bastard child under my roof! Look what you did to your mother!” Your dad pointed to the direction your mother went crying, “Gather your things, and get out of my house.” 

Your father stormed out of the room, leaving you and Bob alone. Bob quickly rushed to your side and wrapped you up in his arms. You held onto him tightly, afraid he might disappear on you. Sobs racked your body as Bob tried to shush your tears. 

“Shh, honeybee, breathe,” Bob said, rubbing your back. He couldn’t help the tears welling up in his eyes at the sound of your cries. He wasn’t 100% sure what was going on other than the fact that you were possibly pregnant and your parents had just kicked you out. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” You said and Bob pulled back from you. He gently held your face in his hands and wiped your tears away with his thumb, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, Bobby, you have to believe-” 

“I’m not blaming you for anything,” Bob shook his head, “Is what your dad said true? You’re pregnant?” 

You nodded and sniffled, “I haven’t been feeling good for weeks, and I missed my period. I drove to Davis to the drug store and got a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, quit apologizing, alright,” Bob said and kissed your forehead, “We’re gonna get through this, together. I’m not leaving you.” 

“What about the Navy? Bob, you have been dreaming of that since you were a kid.” One of  the first things Bob had told you back in the fifth grade, while you dangling upside down from the monkey bars was that he wanted to join the Navy. His dad had been in for a couple years to pay off his student debt, and he loved it. Bob had grown up watching air shows in Virginia beach during the Fourth of July. 

“I’ll figure it out. Whatever you want,” Bob said, and took both your hands in his, “You and this baby are my future, okay,” You nodded and bit your lip as brand new tears threatened to spill. 

“I have no place to go,” You cried and Bob shook his head. 

“Yes you do,” He said, “What do you need? I’ll go get it.” You rattled off a couple items that you can think of off the top of your head and Bob ran up to your room and packed you a bag. Your parents were hiding in the kitchen, far away from you and Bob. They must’ve really been ashamed of you if they couldn’t even say anything as Bob guided you out to his truck. 

The ride to the Floyd ranch was painfully silent. You looked out the window the whole time, resting your hand on your stomach. Bob would steal glances over at you every once in a while. You had stopped crying which was a plus, but your cheeks and nose were still red. When you pulled up in front of the old farmhouse, Bob jogged around to your side of the truck and helped you out. He held your hand the whole time as you walked into the house, the smell of dinner hitting both of your noses. You both could hear Elizabeth Floyd yelling at her younger kids, and the squeals of children running around. 

“Allison Floyd, if you don’t stop messing with your sister!” Elizabeth’s voice was firm as you and Bob walked into the kitchen. She took one look at you and knew what was going on. Call it a mother’s intuition. 

“She needs a place to stay. . . for a while,” Bob said and Elizabeth nodded. 

“You can take Benny’s room down in the basement,” Elizabeth said. You nodded and took your bag from Bob’s hands and made your way down to the familiar room that the eldest Floyd child once inhabited. When you were out of ear shot, Elizabeth looked at her son, “Her parents found out?” 

“Yeah,” Bob said, placing his hands on the back of the chair in front of him, “Kicked her out. I didn’t even know until I got there”

“And what are you gonna do? You gonna step up?” 

Bob nodded, “Of course. That’s my baby. I’m not gonna leave her high and dry. I’ll do whatever she wants to do.” 

“You better not, Robert Floyd. I raised you better than that. Now,” Elizabeth said and walked over to the pantry. Bob watched her a bit confused until she walked out with a sleeve of saltine crackers and a ginger ale, “Go give these to her. Poor girl looks like she hasn’t kept anything down in days.” 

Bob nodded again and took the items from his mom’s hands, “How did you know?”  

Elizabeth sighed, “Cause I had that same look on my face when we told your grandparents I was pregnant with Ben. Now go on, no time for questions.” 

“Thank you,” Bob said and went downstairs to find you.

[j0hnj4ej3n]

mark: childhood best friends to lovers

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: none :)

Notes: this is Mark's part of 'nct dream as love tropes', enjoy!

You’ve known Mark for more than half your life and you’ve been best friends ever since you’v met back in kindergarten. 

The very first time you remember talking to him as a kid was when he asked if he could take a turn at the swings. Mark has always been a nice boy, a little shy but super cheerful. You told him that you would have just two more swings and he can have his turn. So he waited patiently by you while you went back and forth on the swings two more times. “Okay, you can use the swings now!” You told him as you tried to get down. Mark very nicely held the metal chains of the swing to keep it still so you could get down safely. But once you got down, another boy shoved Mark out of the way and got onto the swings. 

Mark looks shocked but said nothing, his lips turned into a pout and his eyes glistened with tears. “Hey! It was Mark’s turn to play!” But even before the other boy could respond, Mark ran away to hide his disappointment. You followed after him and found him sitting by the sand pit by himself. “Sorry Mark,” you said as you squat beside him, trying to stare at his face to see if he was crying. He rubbed his eyes with his tiny fists and mumbled out a soft, “It’s okay.” You quickly thought of a game you could play together instead since you felt bad and suggested, “Mark, do you want to play hide and seek with me?” His head shot up and he looks at you with his big doe eyes before a smile appeared on his face. “Okay! I’ll hide and you seek!” 

From then on, the two of you were inseparable. The worst part of your days back then was having to go home because that meant you couldn’t play together anymore. Your parents loved the friendship you two had and would even set up playdates on the weekends. 

The two of you would do everything together. In school, you would sit together during class. Play together during playtime, eat together and even shared what you guys brought for lunch. During the holidays, your parents would take turns to bring you guys out. Your parents brought you and Mark to the zoo once. And Mark’s parents’ brought you two to the carnival. 

Eventually, you both attended the same middle school and your friendship had never been stronger. Despite being in different classes, Mark always waited for you to walk back home together. And you always looked for him during lunch to sit with him and his friends. Mark’s friends loved to tease that you were his girlfriend, which Mark would deny with pink cheeks. You never said anything, because truth be told, you did have a little crush on him. Mark grew up to be so cute, his eyes were still so big and sparkly, they would crinkle up when he laughed. His smile was the cutest you’ve ever seen and he was still always so so nice to you. 

But one time, Mark came to you to tell you about his crush on this girl in your class and even asked if you could help to pass her the chocolates he got for her on Valentine’s day. You did help him but the fact that he had a crush on someone else made you so upset you ignored him all day. You sat by yourself during lunch and even when Mark came to talk to you, you picked up your tray and left. Mark was genuinely so confused, he even felt a little sad since his best friend wasn’t talking to him anymore. After school you tried to take the bus home without him but Mark was already waiting outside your class as usual. You tried to walk away when Mark caught up to you, “Y/n, wait up! D-did I do something? Why are you ignoring me?” 

You took the box of Ferrero Rochers you bought for him for Valentine’s day and shoved it into his hands before you stomped away pettily. You prepared a gift for him as his best friend and instead of doing the same, he only asked for you to help him hand a gift to his crush. You were disappointed and angry. “Y/n! Stop!” You hear Mark calling out to you from behind but kept walking. You hear his footsteps behind and in a few seconds he caught up to you. As he stood in front of you, panting, he hands you a single red rose, wrapped in brown paper. “Happy Valentine’s day y/n.” You took the rose from him and you immediately felt guilty for ignoring him all day. “Please stop being mad at me, I’ll give you flowers every Valentine’s day if you just stop ignoring me…” Mark pleads as he stares at you with his cute boba eyes and you replied with a simple, “Okay.” 

The two of you are in highschool now. Mark’s grown even taller and even better looking in your opinion. His cheekbones became more defined, his voice broke and is now deeper. He finally learned how to style his hair properly after deciding to grow it out. But overall, despite his appearance, he was still the same, gentle, loving and cheerful Mark Lee that you’ve grown to love. 

The only problem is, your current boyfriend doesn’t like him very much. All your life, you’ve always done everything with Mark but things have been different ever since you started dating. You really like the guy, he treats you really well but if there’s anything you wished he was better at was getting along with Mark.

Mark has been nothing but nice to him but your boyfriend treats him coldly. He admits he’s jealous of your close friendship with Mark. So Mark makes an effort to keep a distance from you, but you hate it. It feels wrong and even though you really like your boyfriend, your mind never fails to drift to thoughts of your best friend who you know misses you too. 

You eventually broke up with your boyfriend, you were crushed. But Mark was with you through it all, like you were during his first break up. “There’s lots of fishes in the sea y/n. You’re one fish closer to the right one~” Mark tells you and you laugh for the first time that evening. 

It’s finally prom night and your date is waiting for you downstairs. 

[4:23pm] mark 🩵: [image attached]

[4:23pm] mark 🩵: i’m prom ready, about to go pick rachel up 

[4:24pm] you: damn, you look great mark!

[4:24pm] you: [image attached]

[4:24pm] you: i’ll see you there! jaemin’s waiting for me 

[4:25pm] mark 🩵: you’re beautiful y/n 

[4:25pm] mark 🩵: mum specifically requested for us to take pictures

[4:26pm] mark 🩵: so excited to see you later 

[4:27pm] you: whatever mama lee wants, mama lee gets <3 

And even though you both had a date for prom, you had more pictures with Mark Lee in your gallery than you had with your date. At the end of the night, you had your last dance with Mark, his hand on your waist and your hand in his. Mark’s date ended up leaving with her friends to the after party. Jaemin stayed till the end to take a few more pictures with you, leaving after giving you a kiss on cheek to pregame with the boys. 

Mark very kindly offered to take you home before joining Jaemin and the boys since you were never one for the party scene. “It’s fine Mark, I can get home on my own.” “No way I’m letting you go home alone, come on, it’s getting late.” Your feet started to hurt so Mark let you wear his shoes well he held your heels and walked only with his socks on. 

“Is it weird if I said you looked really good today?” Mark starts and you chuckle at his question. “Well, I actually tried to look good today so… hopefully it worked.” “I mean, I-I’m not saying you look bad on other days. You’ve always been pretty, it’s just… ah whatever, you know what I mean…” You begin to laugh because you can tell Mark is flustered but you thank him anyway. “You look really good yourself, I think our pictures turned out great. Mama Lee would be proud.” Mark shakes his head as he laughs, telling you how his mum sent a bunch of heart stickers when he sent her the pictures you two took from this evening. “She gave me so much shit for not taking you to prom,” Mark tells you. “Really?” “Yeah, I told her Jaemin asked you first and that you already agreed, so I couldn’t ask you.” “Wait… you were going to ask me to prom?” You asked and Mark rubs the back of his neck. “I was… but my own friend already beat me to it, so I backed off.” “Your mum’s right, you should have asked sooner. Jaemin doesn’t stand a chance against you,” you told him teasingly. “Oh shut up, you’re making me regret not asking you for real now.” 

The two of you finally reach the front of your house and were about to part ways when Mark speaks again. “You really looked beautiful tonight, I mean it,” Mark looks down at you, his eyes gazing into yours and you had to look away before you start blushing. You don’t know if it’s the suit or the fact that you’ve liked Mark for years but your heart is starting to do that thing again, the one where it tries it’s best to beat itself out of your chest. “Thank you… you should get going or the party’s going to start without you.” Mark sighs like he doesn’t want to leave and he looks like he wants to say something but is holding himself back. You can tell because he always makes this face when he’s unsure if he should speak his mind. “What is it?” “W-what?” “You want to say something, just say it…” Mark chuckles at the fact that you know he so well and because he’s nervous. 

“Since I didn’t get to take you to prom…” “Uh huh?” “May I… Um… is this weird?” “Mark Lee… are you asking me out on a date?” “Will that be bad?” Mark asks, half laughing, half about to shit his pants. “My best friend? Of more than a decade?” You feign a face of judgement. “O-okay sorry I-” “I’ll consider it if you ask me properly,” you cut him off before he actually thinks you’re serious. Mark sighs in relief before he brace himself to ask you, “my dearest best friend…” “Go on.” “May I take you on a date? Say, tomorrow.” “Sounds perfect.” You say as Mark hugs you, laughing as he does so and you hug him back tightly. “Okay you better go before the boys give you hell for running so late.” “Alright, I’ll pick you up at 6 tomorrow, okay? I’ll see you soon,” Mark says excited as he kisses you on the cheek, waving you goodbye as he makes his way back to the after party.

[anonymouslymadebydesign]

I have a request please!

Could you write about Eddie dear and Frank frankly taking care of a regressed reader?

(Headcannon or fanfic I don’t mind!)

Sorry I didn’t notice I got an ask !! Im still getting used to Tumblrs interface, especially since it’s so different on my phone than my laptop (╯‿╰,)

Absolutely ! I’ll do headcanons since everything is so new, but I hope you enjoy it anon ! Hope you don’t mind that I like writing reader as a fellow puppet of the Neighborhood.

Synopsis : Frank and Eddie take care of you during dinner time and tuck you in for bed

✿ ⌂ ✿ ⌂ ✿ ⌂

✿ Just like Julie, you would consider yourself pretty good friends with Frank. You trusted him more than anyone else in the Neighborhood. So when he finally made it official with Eddie, you were over the moon for him! Now you had two besties to hang out with

✿ Most everyone knew you age regressed occasionally, heck, some of your fellow neighbors did as well ! Sally, for example, regressed like you do and made for wonderful playdates

✿ When Frank had suggested that both him and Eddie act as your caregivers, you hesitated. On one hand, it would be awesome having not one but TWO caregivers. On the other hand, you felt rather shy opening up to Eddie in such a vulnerable state.

✿ In the end though, you agreed. Frank had said that he spoke with Eddie before approaching you about it, and that the mailman was more than excited to partake. “I think it would be fun!” He had said

✿ Franks home is a nice little two bedroom house with a little office he kept for all his insect stuff. Especially his display of butterfly shadow boxes. The spare bedroom was originally a guest bedroom but doubled as the space where you and Frank would hang when regressed

✿ As the afternoon turned into evening and Eddie’s shift ended, little you and Frank waited patiently (albeit excitedly) for the mailman to come home. Dinner was around the corner and Frank had already set the table, your own colorful plastic plate and cutlery set out as well.

✿ “I’m home!” Eddie announced loudly as he entered the house. He set his satchel and hat off to the side. “Sorry if I’m a little late, I got lost delivering some of the last packages.”

✿ “Welcome Home.” Frank greeted him as well and went to give his hello kisses. You giggled at their interaction from your place at the table. “Dinners ready whenever you are.”

✿ You couldn’t help the giggles that seemed to spill out of you as you watch the two dot over eachother. It was enough to catch Eddie’s attention. “Now what this over here? Looks like someone has a case of the giggles.”

✿ “Papa gave Daddy kisses.” You said gleefully behind your hands. Eddie left Frank’s side to come over to you as he enveloped you in a hug.

✿ “And Papa gives kisses to littles too!” He said giving you quick smooches to both your cheeks. His hands found their way to your sides and before you could register what he was doing, he began to tickle you. This sent you into a raging fit of laughter, absolutely shrieking before Eddie took mercy and took his place at the table.

✿ Dinner went by normally. Frank put your food on your plastic plate, with dividers, and poured your favorite juice in a sippy cup. Eddie talked about his day and how it went and in turn ask you and Frank how yours was.

✿ “We played with Sally at her house and for lunch we had sandwiches that Miss Poppy made. It was really yummy. Then we had nap time and daddy read me the hungry caterpillar, it’s my favorite bug book.” You rambled off when it your turn to talk about your day. It was like that as everyone finished their food as Frank and Eddie started taking plates and washing them.

✿ Frank had been to worried in the past that you might accidentally cut yourself with something sharp while helping with the dishes, so he asked instead if you didn’t mind getting into your pajamas for the night. “I’m sure papa would love to see your new jammies we got from Howdys.”

✿ The idea of being able to show off your new pjs was more than enough motivation to leave to two in the kitchen as they cleaned. When you came back, they were finished and had put most of everything away.

✿ “Papa!” You had practically shouted as you came into the living room. “Look at my pjs! The stars glow in the dark!” They were indeed cute pajamas. They had a solid blue background with white stars scattered about in various sizes.

✿ “Come here,” Eddie patted the space between him and Frank on the couch. You gladly wiggled in between them to cuddle. “Why, these look spectacular! You’ll have to show me them glowing when it’s bedtime.”

✿ As you snuggled between your caretakers you felt sleep slowly but surely creep its way up as you began to yawn. Surely closing your eyes just to rest them won’t make you go to sleep. Besides, papa is telling a real interesting story (that you aren’t following) to daddy so of course you’ll stay awake.

✿ In all honesty, you only lasted for roughly half an hour, and that’s being generous. The sun had set long ago and the hour was late. “Oh dear,” Eddie said, suddenly dropping his voice to a whisper. “I believe they’ve fallen asleep.”

✿ “So they have.” Frank whispered. “Here, why don’t we take ‘em to bed.” He gently pried himself away from you, moving ever so slowly in order not to wake you. Eddie scooped you up in his strong arms, trying his best not to stir you, and carried you to the guest room.

✿ While Eddie tucked you into bed, Frank grabbed one of your stuffed animals and expertly slid it between your arms. You moved a little but it was to grasp the toy and hold it dearly. Frank plugged in a nightlight on the opposite side of the room before tiptoeing out, Eddie leaving right behind.

✿ Even though Frank had left you a nightlight, he flipped the hallway light on and left the door open a creek. He knew that you hated wondering around in the dark in case you needed something in the middle of the night.

✿ “Goodnight sleepy bug.” Eddie whispered to your sleeping form before finally taking his leave and following Frank upstairs and to their bedroom.

[thehangeddemon]

Museum Playdate || Theo, Devlin, Charles, & Rory || September, 2021

Charles: Charles watched his son wolf down his third bowl of cereal with fond amusement, sipping slowly at his morning tea. This was a rather late start for them, most of the school's residents having long-since breakfasted. He pulled out his mobile as his daughter slipped silently into the kitchen and made a beeline for the bread box. They were cutting it close.

{Text: Theo} We should be set to leave, soon.

{Text: Theo} Can you make it here, or do you need us to come by?

Theo: Theo finished packing the soft-sided cooler containing everyone's lunches (for later in their adventure) and glanced at his phone as it buzzed. Then he shrugged said item over his shoulder and headed for his son's room.

{Text: Charles} We can make it to you, we'll leave in just a few minutes.

"Dev, you all ready to go?" Theo asked as he knocked on Devlin's door and stepped into his son's room.

Devlin: "I can't find my shoe!" Devlin shouted as his papa walked in.

He was only wearing one sock and every pair of shoes he owned had been thrown all over the floor in his search while Ethel watched from the window seat.

"Can Ethel come to the museum too? She'll be quiet!"

Charles: Reading Theo's reply, Charles encouraged his children to finish their breakfasts. Their uncle and cousin would be there shortly and Cynthia's hair was still a mess.

{Text: Theo} See you soon!

Theo: An endeared smile passed over Theo's lips, and he set down the cooler so he could help out his son.

"I'm sorry sweet pea," he said as he walked up to Devlin's bed. He patted the edge, motioning for him to take a seat, "museums don't allow dogs, even ones as smart, and well behaved, as Ethel." Theo retrieved Devlin's sock, handed it to him to put it on, and a moment later he fished the missing shoe out from under Devlin's bed. "Your sneaker, fair prince!" he teased, giving Devlin's side a playful poke. Then he assisted where he could in the last steps of dressing.

Devlin: He frowned as he put on his sock. "Why? Is it because she's big? She won't chew on anything! Right, Ethel?"

The massive dog just stared and rested her head on the nearest stuffed animal. She was the picture of innocence.

Devlin giggled, sticking out his foot so his papa could put his shoe on but insisting on tying it himself. The only thing left, after asking one more time to bring Ethel along, was his jacket.

Theo: "It's because not all dogs are as good as Ethel, and the people that work at the museum don't know which dogs will be good or bad. So they only allow dogs with very special training inside, just to be safe," Theo slipped the shoe onto Devlin's foot, and while he tied it Theo retrieved his jacket.

A chuckle followed Devlin asking about Ethel one more time, but Theo shook his head. Then he grabbed the cooler and offered his hand to his son. "Ready?"

Devlin: Devlin was thoroughly unimpressed with these museum people and their rules and thought they should change them. He'd be sure to tell them when they got to the museum.

"I'm ready!" he exclaimed, taking his Papa's hand. "Bye, Ethel! We'll bring you a present!" Because Daddy always said you had to bring presents when you went on a trip for everyone who didn't get to go.

Theo: Theo nodded as Devlin took his hand.

"We certainly will," he agreed, and a dark smoke began to rise from beneath both of their feet. A visual effect that wasn't necessary to teleporting, but Theo always added it for Devlin's enjoyment. The smoke circled up and around them, Theo closed his eyes, and when they opened the smoke faded, leaving them standing in the entryway of the school.

"Shall we check the kitchen?" Theo asked Devlin as he fished out his phone to text Charles.

{Text: Charles} We're here! Where should we meet you?

Charles/Rory: His mobile buzzed in his pocket, but Charles didn't bother to read the text. He'd felt Theo's and Devlin's presences as soon as they'd arrived. He gave his son a mental nudge and carried on with his task.

Rory's head poked in through the front door just behind them, all smiles to see his cousin. "Hey, Dev! Hey, Uncle Theo!" he greeted, just a hint of his father's accent creeping into his cadence. "Daddy said to tell you he has to get the car. Aaaand did you want some breakfast? We have cereal and muffins and stuff."

Theo: "Hello Rory," Theo smiled to himself as he noticed the shift in Rory's cadence, and he looked down at Devlin as he nodded.

"I think that'd be great, right Dev? I think I'm hungry for a muffin."

Devlin: "Hi Rory! I want a muffin too. Take this first." He reached into his pocket and offered his cousin a smooth gray stone. Remembering this had taken priority over nearly everything else. "I got it from the creek! You can paint it! I got one for Cynthia too."

Another dive into his pocket revealed a similar stone, this one already painted with little starbursts of color. For demonstration.

Rory: Rory's smile was dazzlingly wide. It was the perfect present. "Cool!" He was already thinking of about a million things he could paint on his rock. He was half tempted to ask daddy if they could wait long enough for him to start on it, but he could already guess his answer. Instead, he shoved the rock into his pocket. "Thanks, Dev! Come on, let's get breakfast." Never mind that he'd already eaten. He felt very grown-up being the one to lead Uncle Theo and Devlin to the kitchen, pointing out the basket of assorted muffins on the counter. "What kind do you want?"

Theo: Theo followed along with a smile, letting Rory lead them to the kitchen for some breakfast. Theo picked a chocolate chip muffin for himself and set it to the side. "Rory, where might I find your dad?" he asked and glanced around.

[ronnie-azumane]

Flower Rings

Hello everyone! I'm here with another Anisylum collab! This is the first time writing for my OG anime husband, so please go easy on me. But yeah! I hope y'all enjoy and check out the other works from the other creators participating!

CW: Abuse/beating, fluffy hurt/comfort, ATTACK ON TITAN MANGA SPOILERS, mentions of trauma, suicide, and death.

Life in the ghetto wasn’t a walk in the park. Sure, life could be worse, (Y/N) could be going hungry at night, slowly turning into skin and bones. (Y/N) could be shivering the night away in a flimsy tent with a single blanket to keep warm.

Although it’s a little hard to be grateful for what you have when it feels like the oppressor is always watching your every move.

It doesn’t take a genius to see the lack of justice in these ghettos provided by the Marleyan regime, however, young (Y/N) didn’t pay attention to her oppressors as much, they’re only a child after all. Why would they even want to be concerned about politics when the neighbors are playing a game of kickball?

Almost like clockwork, every week at precisely 5pm, the children born in the ghetto would gather in a courtyard and play kickball, with the ball being an old ball accidentally thrown over the fence years ago and the bases marked by old linens.

Kids of all ages gathered as usual at the court yard to divide out the teams and begin their game of ball. (Y/N) wasn’t the youngest there, but at seven years old, they were still young and scrawny, so it was no surprise that (Y/N) was one of the last ones picked.

(Y/N) sighed in relief, however, when they saw that Reiner was on their team. Reiner was three years older than (Y/N), and pretty much tied to their hip. Since both their mothers were friends growing up, they always had playdates together, playing with various figures and creating these elaborate plots to go along with them.

“We’re on the same team? Yes!” Reiner celebrates, jumping around excitedly as any ten year old would.

“You’re only celebrating because you’re too chicken to face me,” (Y/N) teased, sticking their tongue out.

A succession of ‘am not’s and ‘am to’s was promptly stopped when one of the older kids shouted that the game was about to start. Team Black would be kicking first while Team White would pitch.

(Y/N)’s favorite part of the game was kicking, so finding out that the Black Team was kicking first was music to their ears. They ran to the line, getting as close to the front as they could. Reiner held back, as he preferred catching the ball and running fast to get someone out.

(Y/N) was finally up to kick. Team Black had an out and kids on second and third base. If they scored, their team would get their first point.

The ball bounced a slight bit as it made its way toward (Y/N). (Y/N) wound back their leg and hit the ball back, aiming in between the second and third base. The ball flew and (Y/N) sprinted to first base.

What (Y/N) failed to realize was that Jameson, the eight year old boy that had a personal goal of making every day miserable for (Y/N), was waiting by first base.

As they ran toward the base, Jameson positioned himself to where his foot would ‘accidently’ get in the way of (Y/N)’s footing. Sure enough, (Y/N) stepped on his foot, causing them to lose their balance and fall to the ground before hitting the base.

“What the hell, (Y/N), you stepped on my foot!” Jameson shouted, landing a kick in (Y/N)’s side. (Y/N) yelped in pain as they curled into themself.

“You put your foot there on purpose,” (Y/N) sniffled as pain-filled tears leaked from their eyes.

“So what if I did? You still should have avoided it,” Jameson landed another kick to their side.

Reiner, who was zoned out looking at a bee buzzing around, snapped back to reality when he heard (Y/N) yelp in pain in the distance. Before he could think, he found himself running over to the two and punching Jameson square in the face.

Before Jameson could retaliate, Reiner picked up (Y/N) from the ground and ran away from the game, carrying them on his back. Deciding it was not worth the effort, Jameson let them run off as he got back to his game, but not before the team captain of the day switched him to outfield as punishment.

With (Y/N) on his back, Reiner ran to their self proclaimed happy place, if you could call anywhere in the ghetto happy. Near the entrance gate, there was a patch of grass where wildflowers grow, giving them a taste of the natural world that was unknown to them within the walls of the ghetto. He set them down and plopped next to their shuttering frame.

“How are you feeling, (Y/N), are you hurt? Do we need to go to the doctor?” Reiner asked.

“I’m hurt, but I don’t want to go to the doctor.”

“Are you still afraid that the doctor is going to give you a shot?” Reiner teased.

“Shut up! Needles are scary!” (Y/N) whined, causing Reiner to giggle.

Soon enough, the pain in (Y/N)’s side began to fade, and they focused themselves on making a flower crown while Reiner watched the Marleyan soldiers outside the gate train.

“My mama wants me to be a warrior, but I’m not too sure that's what I want to do,” Reiner sighed, lying all the way back on his back.

“How come? Isn’t becoming a warrior one of the best things an Eldian can do for Marley?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yeah, but that would mean I would have to work really hard, while buttheads like Jameson would get to play and make fun of you. It wouldn’t be fair!”

“Why are boys like Jameson so mean anyway? My mommy told me that it just meant that he liked me, but why would someone be mean to someone they liked?” (Y/N) asked.

“Is that a thing?” Reiner asks.

“That’s what mommy says,” (Y/N) finished their flower crown and unceremoniously flopped it onto Reiner’s head, earning a giggle from him. “I wouldn’t want to marry a guy like Jameson, I would want to marry a guy like you, Reiner, who’s nice to me.”

“Then how about we make a promise?” Reiner asked.

“A promise?”

“Yeah, like, we promise to marry each other now, and once we get big we actually do it?” Reiner’s cheeks were now bright red.

“Yeah! I like that! I promise to marry you, Reiner,” (Y/N) extended a pinky out.

Reiner crudely plucked a flower from the ground and tied the stem around (Y/N)’s finger. Reiner’s fingers were chubby and unskilled, so the flower ring didn’t turn out as pretty as the crown, yet (Y/N) still stared at it.

“And I promise to marry you, (Y/N).”

XXX

Reiner ended up joining the Warriors a few years later, to the dismay of (Y/N). The flower ring had since shriveled up beyond repair, but (Y/N) refused to let go of their promise, thinking that if the flower stayed in their possession, it would guarantee Reiner’s safe return home.

However, the mission that was estimated to take the four warriors a year or two to complete turned into a major failure with rumors stating that only one of them was making it home. However, (Y/N) didn’t have the time to mourn her lost friend, Marley was still causing conflict in both the battle front and the home front.

It wouldn’t be until after the Rumbling ended when (Y/N) would meet up with Reiner again. He was in the area negotiating peace with some other nations, and decided a late lunch and catch-up session with his childhood friend was in order.

“So, how was going through puberty like on an island without modern medicine?” (Y/N) asked shamelessly.

“What happened to hello?” Reiner asked, causing (Y/N) to erupt in laughter.

“I’m just sad I didn’t get to witness voice-crack Reiner,” (Y/N) wiped a tear from their eye, causing Reiner to groan.

They then began to catch up, retelling all their experiences from the past thirteen years. Reiner went into detail as to what it was like training with the man who almost killed all of humanity, his trauma, and even his suicide attempt while (Y/N) retold moments of agony in the ghetto, their dad getting drafted for one of the countless wars, and even confessed that they and Jameson dated at one point.

“You! And him!” Reiner stuttered.

“Apparently my mom was right, Jameson pretended he hated me because he couldn’t decipher his own feelings. Dumped his ass a while ago though, he started spending all his money on alcohol.”

“So I’m assuming you’re not seeing anyone?” Reiner asked.

“Not at the moment, why do you ask?”

“Well, (Y/N), I may have had ulterior motives to this lunch,” Reiner pulled out a small box from his pocket and set it on the table, inviting (Y/N) to open it up. Inside was a ring, with the centerpiece shaped as the flower that he tied onto (Y/N)’s finger all those years ago.

“What is this?” (Y/N) stuttered.

“You probably don’t remember, but one day, I gave you a flower ring with a promise. I’m sure it’s long gone by now.”

“Yeah, lost it in the rumbling. Are you really proposing to me right now?”

“No no no! This is just a reminder of that promise we made that afternoon. That promise helped me push through all the hardships I faced,” Reiner flailed his arms a bit, getting slightly flustered.

“So, a promise ring?”

“I promised I’d marry you, didn’t I?” Reiner asked as he pulled out his pinky. Smiling, (Y/N) slipped on the ring and interlocked their pinky with his.

“You did, Reiner, you did.”

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

Bring your Daughter to Court Day and Dad Friends

Summary: Rafael tries to multitask, miscommunicating the date he direly needs a sitter to Lucia, which means Catalina has to accompany him to court last minute. He manages to maintain his serious demeanor as well as he can, rewarding the well behaved little one with ice cream and a trip to the park. Suddenly, Rafael realizes he doesn’t have dad friends, and the opportunity arises to gain one. 

Pairings: Rafael Barba x OC

First Part - Second Part -Third Part - Fourth Part - Fifth Part - Sixth Part

A/N: This installation also partially based off of @teamsladsandgents​ ask a couple weeks ago that Down A Sitter was based on.

How had his mother forgotten she was supposed to babysit? Apparently, it was because Rafael Barba sent March 18 instead of 8, probably while he was making Catalina’s lunch and thinking that was the time for an email. Now, his mother was in Florida with Enrique, and he was without a sitter because Rebecca, Al, and Rodney were on the trip together. He could probably take her to Olivia’s, have Lucy watch her, but there wasn’t time to do that and make it to the courthouse. Lucia lived too far away. That left him with one option, and it was one he wasn’t sure he liked.

It was another defense case, a pillar of the community who killed his daughter’s abuser. It was all heat of the moment; the bastard had shown up on his step looking for Brendon’s daughter, the one he’d raped and left nearly dead. The other women? The ones he hadn’t dated? They hadn’t been lucky enough for the nearly. In minutes, he’d shot him, calling the police on himself. Olivia had convinced him to take it. And now it looked like he’d have company.

“Mija, how good can you be if papi brings you to work?” Her eyes lit up as she looked up at him.

“I can be so good, papi! I’ll help.”

“I’d just need you to be very, very quiet. That’ll be the best.”

“But I want to help.”

“You have to protect papi’s briefcase,” he fibbed, thankful selective defense work meant he just needed the file within it.

“I can,” she nodded seriously. He fastened her into her car seat, kissing her forehead and getting to the courthouse. He was grateful he could transition the necessities to a less full suitcase, leaving behind spare pens and pads of paper and only taking the file, a couple of pens, snacks, a bottle, the ipad, and her coloring book and box of crayons. Consolidating made him feel less messy. Most people at the courthouse didn’t know the dad side of him, and even as he relaxed, he hadn’t quite shaken the reputation he earned as a prosecutor. Now, he was clad in one of his dark three piece suits with a bright tie and suspenders, just like everyone was used to, the same briefcase in his hand. What they weren’t used to was the little girl with his eyes settled on his hip, clad in bright pink leggings and a white sweater with her arms wrapped tight around her father’s shoulders.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked, brow raised as he shifted Catalina to walk through the metal detector. Her blanket was clutched in her hand from the car still, and she held it from the floor, carefully walking through.

“Cute kid,” the guard asked. This was one who’d been here forever, and he seemed surprised. 

“Thank you.” He picked Catalina up again, briefcase by his side. He’d developed more muscle definition in his arms than he’d ever had since Rebecca went back to work. Catalina refused to walk, and he enjoyed fatherhood too much to make her. 

“If you’re good until we leave, we’ll get the biggest sundae you’ve ever had, mija,” he reminded her during an empty stretch of hallway. Catalina nodded seriously up at him, and he smiled more fondly than he intended, nodding to his client. He’d sent a text of warning, but the older man just gave him a grin.

“Taylor was a daddy’s girl too. Thank you, Mr. Barba. I know you could have tried to continue this.”

“I don’t want to draw this out for you anymore, I assure you. If it means unorthodox company, so be it. We may be waiting for a while.” 

He settled the coloring book on his briefcase, and Catalina sat on the bench beside it, using it like a makeshift desk. He entrusted Brandon to watch her while he stepped to the clerk.

“How long is the wait running for The People vs Aerie?” he asked, and he remembered why he didn’t like this one.

“Who’s the cutie?” she asked, popping her gum as she slowly looked at the docket.

“I asked a question,” he said impatiently. He didn’t want this day to be about his child. He wasn’t even sure he liked sharing her with work. The divide, save the friendships he’d made, was too deep. Fin, Amanda, Liv, and Carisi were one thing. Everyone else? He was fine without them. 

“Geeze, I’m just wondering if she’s your niece or somethin’. It’s hot seeing a man with a kid.”

“She’s my daughter. Her mother is out of town and there was miscommunication with the sitter.”

“I didn’t know you were married, counsellor.”

“Please just give me an estimate.”

“Couple hours. I’ll bump you as far up as I can.”

“Thank you.”

He turned to see Catalina chatting happily to Brandon, and he thought it might be a blessing she was here. Brandon hadn’t been handling things well. Sure, he was handling things better than Rafael had; he let his wife and daughter be there for him. But he was also treating himself as less worthy now, grappling with the reality that he’d ended a life even if he didn’t regret doing it. He’d confided in Rafael as they prepped that he worried he was never going to be good again. That’s when Rafael did something that confirmed the change in him: he was vulnerable with him. They talked about something not many people had in common. Ending a life changes you, and though they did it for different reasons, both felt they’d done what they needed. 

“She’s smart as hell,” Brandon chuckled, watching Catalina color. “And looks exactly like you.”

“I’m very fortunate. Her, not so much,” he joked, hand resting on her back as he sat back down so she was between the pair of them. 

“Cute co-counsel,” Carisi said, stopping by. 

“Mr. Sonny!” Catalina grinned, and Rafael almost grinned. Carisi, while Rafael would always give him hell, attended their church, was overall a good guy and attorney, and had become one of Catalina’s chosen few during playdates with Jessie and Billie Rollins. He’d even been babysitter one Saturday night to give Rebecca and Rafael a night off, so he was developing soft spot for the young ADA. 

“Cat!” he grinned, leaning down and hugging her. Catalina didn’t let go, and Sonny put his briefcase down to hold her for a minute. “What are you doing here?”

“Protecting papi’s briefcase!” Catalina spoke well for her age, but he was going to miss the staccato of her toddler chatter. Carisi and the abuelitas and the squad could all understand her easily. They all had enough experience with kids. There had always been a delay between her words and his replies at first. Words would break up or run together, and he’d have to process things. Now it didn’t matter how she strung the noises together; he got it as easily as Rebecca.

“Wow, big responsibilities, kiddo. I gotta go to court. I’ll see you soon, okay?” he grinned, ruffling Catalina’s hair before she climbed back to the bench and leaned against Rafael. He was proud that his daughter hurried to his side when she wanted protection from the strange place and people around them. It made him feel like he was doing something right. The clerk, as annoying as she was, did get them moved up, and Rafael carried Catalina in, setting her on the bench directly behind his seat. After a few moments, she got nervous, standing and leaning against the bannister as everyone got settled. Rafael quietly urged her to sit as everyone settled in, looking over the file before him. She didn’t, looking around at the busy courtroom, and he set his mouth in a line, picking her up and fighting the urge to smile as her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her head came to rest on his shoulder.

“Do you need a continuance, Mr. Barba?” the judge asked. He’d been in front of this judge before. Last time, it was as a prosecutor in the Martha Hobbs case. He supposed that was why there was a tone of amusement in his voice. There goes whatever reputation he had left, but it didn’t bother him like he expected. 

“Not at all,” he said breezily. Suddenly, he realized he’d perfected that parental stance. The one where fingers laced around the toddler on his hip, but he could still take back a hand to turn pages and write notes. He’d always thought it was some kind of magic when Liv did it with Noah. “Shall we move ahead with Mr. Aerie’s arraignment?”

“Of course. Nothing unusual here.” Rafael fought the urge to roll his eyes, cutting his eyes to the ADA for this case covering a laugh. He was just glad it wasn’t Carisi this time.

“He’s weird,” Catalina whispered, well aware of how to keep her voice quiet enough only her father could hear her. He squeezed her gently, the corner of his mouth tugging up. Soon enough, Brandon was being escorted to pay bail, and Catalina had commented on the whole affair. She’d done much better than he’d expected, so he knew he’d be taking her for ice cream. His biggest worry had been the courtroom with it’s crowded benches, but she’d settled in just fine on his hip. 

It was still strange to him the way he could be a source of comfort for her, and he felt the weight of responsibility in the best way. She trusted him implicitly, looked for him when she needed comfort. Sure, she’d leave his side for a friend, but she’d always want to come back and climb onto his lap. It struck him again how unimaginable his father’s behavior was. In fact, he’d thought about it a lot as he took care of Catalina, especially the past few days with Rebecca gone. His first instinct with her was never anger. Occasional frustration with a tantrum, but she was learning to understand the world and needed him to make some part of it safe and consistent, not scary and volatile.

“Bye Mr. Aerie,” she said softly as they parted ways, Brandon’s wife ecstatic to get him home. Taylor was still in the hospital, and they’d be spending the night by her side. This case made him wish he could keep Catalina with him forever, safe from the kind of people he’d seen in his tenure at SVU. She wrapped around his knees on the steps of the courthouse as he answered questions. Media moved on, and they didn’t want to examine him anymore. They just wanted the statement and to follow Brandon into the waiting car. He would’ve held his daughter close, but he didn’t want her face plastered on the news. Rafael didn’t leave the Aeries until the SUV’s door closed, Catalina’s hand held in his. Once they were gone, he scooped her up and started towards the ice cream parlor he knew was only a couple of blocks away.

“You were very good today, mija,” he smiled gently, kissing the top of her head. “I think we ought to go for a walk and get you some ice cream.”

“Really?” she asked, and her smile was wide enough he could not say no if he wanted.

“Really,” he nodded, laughing as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Gracias, papi!”

A long time ago, he would have tried to maintain the composure and seriousness from inside the courthouse until he was far from where anyone could see him this relaxed. Now he was adjusting his briefcase, as his daughter told him all about what she wanted on her ice cream. She wouldn’t take a nap that afternoon after the amount of sugar he was about to give her, but he had a feeling the grin he’d get, her face covered in melted chocolate and ice cream, would be worth it.

“Ms. Olivia!” Catalina’s voice made him follow her gaze, seeing Liv making her way to the courthouse. 

“So that’s how you got Brandon moved up the docket.”

“I added a one to the date when I texted mami to babysit while Becs is gone,” he said, mouth set in a line again. He didn’t like the fact this story was both unavoidable and going to be told forever.

“So Cat got to come to court?”

“Al and Rodney are with Becs. Mami is in Florida.”

“I was so good,” Catalina said proudly. “And Mr. Brandon got bailed.”

“Recognizance didn’t work?” she asked.

“He has the means to flee. But the bail is minimal. We’re going to get ice cream.”

“Because I was so good,” Catalina added, face serious as she nodded.

“You were, mija. Say bye to Oliva.” 

Soon, they were sitting at a table in the ice cream shop, and there was far more ice cream in front of Catalina than Rebecca would ever approve of. He’d originally said one scoop, any toppings, but then she asked with wide eyes if she could get three flavors. Normally, he’d try to say no, but not today. She’d been good at the courthouse, plus he was the one she inherited her sweet tooth from. They’d gotten four scoops and every topping she wanted with an agreement she’d share with papi. He’d almost teared up when she said I always share with papi. Almost. But now he was taking a picture of them together, trying to decide how much he hated that he took selfies now. But, he only took selfies like this, of him sitting in a low booth with Catalina beside him and the massive sundae between them. Surely, that didn’t count? He sent it to Rebecca anyway.

Guess who was an angel in court. We miss you, mami.

Certainly not the hot one. Proud of her. I miss you both terribly.

What time do you get home tonight?

Eleven. The boys are dropping me off. And I’m guessing that sugar means you’ll both be up.

I’ll be up either way. Te amo, hermosa. I hope the trip has been good to you.

I love you, handsome. It has been, but I miss my family.

“Should we video call mami when we get home?” he asked when sticky hands had been cleaned as they walked back to the car. He saw familiar faces passing them by, giving nods as they approached the courthouse they’d parked near. 

“Yeah!” she nodded eagerly, and Rafael could see the energy hitting her. 

“Or maybe we call her from the park? Then you can play! Run around and swing and slide.” He was humming each activity, pressing kisses to the top of her head. He hadn’t taken her to Central Park yet, and he’d been to the Billy Johnson Playground on the east side with Olivia and Noah when she’d needed a friend. It looked like an old part of the nature around it, making him think of the stories Catalina was so fond of. She liked gnomes and cottages in the woods lately, and the little park fit right in. Plus, the focus was more on what she could run on and climb, but still with the swing he could push her on when she got tired. When she did get tired, he could rest with her at the little gazebo and feel secluded and out of the city.

Maybe they needed a vacation.

“Yes!” she giggled, hugging his neck. He smiled, stopping at the car to order an Uber. To and from court was all the driving he intended to do. He traded his briefcase for the diaper bag, leaving his vest and blazer now that the day had warmed up and tucked one of the blankets Rebecca insisted was in case of emergency in the diaper bag. 

“We’re going to a really special park.”

“Why’s it special?”

“You know the pretty one the zoo is at?”

“Yeah?”

“Papi knows a cool playground there. It looks like gnomes live there.”

“That is cool,” she said, her excitement apparent. He loaded them into the car, ever grateful to not have to drive, and tipped generously when the driver was kind enough to drop them off away from the zoo. As soon as they were in the park, Catalina wanted down, her hand in his as they walked along the path.  When they got to the little gazebo, he stopped, and Catalina looked up at him quizzically.

“Want to call mami from here?” She lit up, pulling herself to stand on the bench he sat on. Rebecca was packing up, he knew, so he wasn’t surprised when she answered quickly, blowing her hair from her face. When she fully registered it was them, she grinned. 

“Mama!” 

“Catalina!”

“Becs!”

“Raf!”

Rebecca was relieved to see the day really must be going well. Catalina was giddy, blue from what Rebecca guessed was cotton candy ice cream staining the cuff of her sweater as she pushed her hair back. Rafael was smiling, the one that showed his teeth and crinkled his eyes. They still hadn’t been home, but the image of Rafael in the dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his tie and suspenders featuring the same shade of pink as their daughters pants was perfection. She wasn’t sure he realized how often he did it, but she didn’t want him to stop matching their daughter so she’d never tell. 

“You guys seem like you’re having fun! Maybe it’s good papi can’t type.” This time Rafael laughed because he was kind of thankful for his snafu. This weekend was only his third or fourth time out and about with Catalina for more than a trip to the park or run to the grocery store. This weekend, they’d gone to a museum and church on their own, and now they were having another daddy daughter day. He liked it. 

“Papi and I had...lunch....that wasn’t ice cream. And now we’re at a special playground!”

“The Billy Johnson Playground at Central Park. I’ll take pictures for you, mami.”

“You two will have fun. You’ll have to show it to me one day.”

“Secret park!” Catalina said seriously and his smile grew broader, arm around her middle. 

“Maybe we can show mami this part before?”

“Deal.” They said their goodbyes soon enough, Rebecca heading to the airport. He watched as Catalina walked just a couple of steps ahead, looking back over her shoulder to be sure he was there. Her eyes lit up when she saw the park, and Rafael was glad to see there were other kids her age there. They hadn’t quite found her a group of friends her own age; Fin’s grandson, Jaden, was one of only a couple, and Rafael didn’t know the other two well. He stayed close to her as she hurried to the climbing set, taking pictures and sending them on to Rebecca. Mostly, moms and nannies were there, and he felt slightly out of place. When he was in groups of parents, he always found himself wondering who knew. Shifting awkwardly, he nodded towards them and went back to watching his daughter with a fond smile.

She’d found two sisters, one her age and one who looked to be about five. The older girl was helping the younger two navigate the playset, leading them to slides and climbing nets easily. Each time Catalina looked unsteady on her feet, which was often given her age, he wanted to scoop her up, but apparently it was important to let her take a tumble or two. Rafael didn’t like that idea or the fact that they had to keep bandages in the diaper bag. Luckily, the time she did fall, landing on her rear with her legs out, the older of her new friends laughed and helped her up. 

“I’m guessing white sweater is yours?” a man asked, and he chuckled. 

“Yeah.”

“Her new friends are mine. Flower pants and leopard dress.”

“They made friends fast.”

“Is she into princesses and fairy tales?”

“Yeah. Especially gnomes right now?”

“Sarah is my eldest. She’s obsessed with Fairies.”

“Makes sense. Catalina like fairies too.”

“She and Megan look the same age?”

“Two and a half?”

“Right on,” he chuckled. “I’m Hank.”

“Rafael. I think we’re the only dads here today.”

“Yeah. It’s normally just me during the day when we’re here. I’m a writer, so I can stay home while my wife’s at work. You’re all dressed up though. I’m guessing this isn’t your normal day?”

“I’m an attorney, but I work from home.”

“How does that work?” 

“I work with the Innocence Project. Meetings with defendants are Mondays. I can do the paperwork and brief writing from home. Then court when needed. I take defense work on occasion, like today. Sitter fell through so Cat had to come. My girlfriend is a teacher, and she snuck off with her friends for a long weekend.”

“My wife’s a school librarian. We picked those educators, huh?”

“Apparently.” It felt so normal to be talking to him, and Rafael thought to himself maybe he could have a dad friend now. His friends from Harvard and the DA’s office and SVU had kids, but they’d always have been work colleagues first. There was no erasing what they’d seen together, the tension over cases, the Householder case. Hank seemed nice enough, and they had similar lives. At least they could team up on park trips since it turned out their usual stomping grounds overlapped. 

God, Hank looked like a writer though. He had on a thick flannel over a t-shirt, and tattoos peaked out of the rolled up sleeves. Slim fit jeans and black sneakers, the cool kind not the functional kind, just rounded it out. He was tall and lanky and younger than him, and Rafael suddenly felt he could be Catalina, Megan and Sarah’s grandfather. Hell, he technically could. Still, he was new to this, and he supposed most men in their fifties weren’t settling down with a partner for the first time and raising their first child. Besides, Hank was probably still a little older than Rebecca.

“Megan scraped her knee,” Sarah said, running over to the two men, followed by Catalina holding the hand of teary Megan. 

“Shit-”

“Dad, that’s a bad word.”

“Shoot,” Hank corrected. “I forgot the bag.”

“I’ve got bandages. Princess ones,” Rafael said, digging the box from the diaper bag. “There’s neosporin in there too.”

“Thanks.” 

Catalina climbed on Rafael’s lap, and he could tell by how she laid back against him that he had succeeded; she was tired out. Rafael didn’t want to go yet, able to hear Hank saying they’d head home once Megan was patched up. Was making friends as an adult always so much like asking for a girl’s number was when he was younger? He hadn’t been a dad for long, only a few months. Maybe having someone other than Rebecca he could call during tantrums and long days would be good?

“Hey, before everyone heads out, maybe we can all meet at the park again sometime? The girls seemed to really get along.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Hank said, digging out his phone and handing it to Rafael. “Put your number in. I haven’t made many dad friends who aren’t also writers or don’t have traditional office jobs. We’re both basically house husbands.”

“Yeah. And it’s hard.”

“Easier than it was two years ago though, right? Five’s even easier.”

“I actually only found out I was a dad in December. It’s a long story. But it’s easier now than in January.”

“We’ll delve into that at the park later this week?”

“Perfect. Do you take insurance?”

“As long as you’ve hit your deductible. Send me the pictures of the girls, okay?”

“Will do,” he nodded as they walked towards the sidewalk. He’d ordered an Uber to take he and Catalina back to his car. Soon enough, he was cooking her dinner, watching her dance around the kitchen to the soft jazz he was playing, and Rafael was grateful for the break from Disney. Not having Rebecca’s return each evening made him appreciate even more how much she’d had to do to keep their daughter happy and healthy and safe for the last two years. He needed the time he’d had to heal, but he often wished he could go back and be here to help sooner. It was his own fault. Instead of pressing the guilt down like he used to, he let himself acknowledge it, tucking it to the side instead as he settled a bowl of macaroni in front of Catalina. Once she was tucked in, he put his feet on the coffee table, working on his laptop and only pausing to send Hank the pictures he’d snapped of the girls playing. He heard Rebecca at the door at eleven, just like she’d estimated, and he hurried to meet her. 

“Heya, handsome,” she grinned, and Rafael could feel the stupid grin split his face.

“Welcome home, hermosa,” he beamed, pulling her in and kissing her deeply. 

“Missed me?” she teased as she smoothed his hair.

“Terribly,” he nodded. “I’ve been spoiled to see you every day.”

“It seems like you and Cat had a good time though?”

“Yeah. We went to the Children’s Museum Saturday. Then Sunday was mass and lazy movies. Today was hectic, but good.”

“Yeah? You two seemed happy at the park. And ice cream for lunch.”

“We had a lot of fun at the park. She made friends with two girls, Sarah and Megan. They have a playdate Thursday.”

“Oh yeah?” she chuckled. “You finally click with the playground moms?”

“Hank. He’s a writer, and his wife is a school librarian. His girls are two and five. He’s home with them most of the time.” Rebecca couldn’t help but grin at how he tried to pretend it was just convenient. 

“That’s cool. I bet it could be nice talking to non-police or court affiliated people, hm? Maybe you two could grab a beer sometime.”

“We’ll see. He’s surprisingly nice to talk to. Sarah and Megan have the same tantrums.”

[nerdyfangirl67]

Now I Know - Criminal Minds Reader Insert

Pairing: Hotch x reader

Warnings: language, slight angst, fluff, wide range of emotions expressed by reader in the letters

Word count: 2248

A/N: This is a sequel to If You Only Knew, set in the future when Aaron finds the letters the reader wrote. The reader is married to Aaron now. And my requests are always open so feel free to send me some!

Aaron is cleaning out the attic and finds the box of letters the reader wrote for him during a relationship break. He reads them and finds out how the reader truly feels

AARON’S POV

It was one of those days when I didn’t know exactly what to do with myself. I had fixed the squeaky step leading up the front porch, replaced the garage door light, and even cleaned the gutters. And it was only one in the afternoon and I wasn’t sure what else to do for the day. 

On any typical day off, Y/N and I would be spending time doing something with Jack. Today though was different. Y/N was out with Garcia and Prentiss on a much-needed girls’ shopping trip. Jack was over at a friend’s for a playdate and wouldn’t be back until Y/N picked him up on her way home. 

After a quick lunch of a PB&J sandwich with a side of a macaroni salad Y/N had made the other day, I decide to head up to the attic and clean out some of the many boxes that had been pushed aside and forgotten when we had moved into the house.

Pushing open the attic door sends up a dust cloud, causing me to have to wave my arms around like a mad man to clear the entry as I let out a harsh cough. Once the dust clears, I trudge up the rickety stairs, my eyes scanning the room as I reached the top. There were quite a few more boxes than I had anticipated, all strewn haphazardly across the floor. 

Heaving out a sigh, I move forward, examining the boxes and decide to start with those marked miscellaneous.

Two hours and six boxes later and the attic looked no cleaner than it had when I started. I start looking for the next box of seemingly random crap when I come across a small wooden container, resting atop a large cardboard box with Aaron written across it.

Curiosity had me stepping forward to grab the wooden container. Intricate designs were carved into the top of the container and a small gold latch held the lid closed. I trace a gentle hand across the top before carefully opening it. 

I pull out a thick bundle, quickly realizing that it was a stack of letters wrapped in gold and silver tissue paper. I slowly unwrap the paper, careful not to tear it. 

Written in thick, black ink and staring back at me is my name and the address of my old apartment. No name is in the left upper corner, leaving me with a mixed feeling of confusion and curiosity. 

After deliberating for a solid five minutes on whether I should open the letters, as all were addressed to me, none of which had a return address, I decided to go for it.

I grab the top letter of the stack and neatly open it. A glance at the paper tells me that it is from Y/N, dated four years ago.

Aaron,

I don’t have words that will ever truly tell you what I feel.

How could you do this to me? To us? I’ve spent the last year falling a little bit more in love with you every day. And I love Jack as if he was mine. He feels like he is.

But you threw that all away. You told me I deserved something, someONE, better and then walked away with my heart.

You are the sun to my moon. How in the hell am I supposed to be me without the biggest part of me?

I hate what you did. I hate that I can’t make myself go into work because I’m afraid that I might run into you. I fucking work in an entirely different unit, on a completely different floor, and yet, your presence hangs over that building like a shadow.

I hate that I let myself become someone who didn’t know who they were without their partner. I hate that I’m constantly looking at the door, hoping you’ll walk back into my apartment, pull me into one of those bear hugs I love, and tell me it was all a mistake and you’ll never leave again. But the thing that I hate most is that I am still in love with you. That’s what I hate the most.

You ripped my heart out and walked away, leaving me a blubbering mess. 

How could I ever forgive you?

Y/N

The letter leaves me breathless. She never told me how she felt during that almost two-month break. And I can’t believe that I ever let her feel that way. 

It takes me less than a second to rip open the next letter, much more destructively than I had the first.

Aaron,

It hurts so bad. I feel like I’m slowly dying and I can’t bring myself to care. It’s like I was flying and then you brought me crashing to the ground. Hard.

Whenever you speak, I hang on to every word, as if I was drowning and your words could save me. Well, I’d do anything not to have clung so tightly as you ripped my buoy out from under me and let me drown.

That’s what I’m doing, drowning. 

How can I ever live life without you, when I know how good it was with you?

I know it’s all cliches, but that’s how you make me feel. Like a protagonist at the end of a cheesy rom-com, running away with my prince to live happily ever after, except I don’t get my happy ending.

Gosh, it hurts so bad, the pain of losing you. You were my everything and it turns out, I was more of your nothing.

She didn’t sign her name at the bottom of this one. Combining that with the dried, smeared ink on the page and it becomes apparent that she was crying so hard that she couldn’t finish.

A lump settles in my throat, making it hard to breathe as the guilt consumes me. I’m slower this time, as I move to grab another one, afraid of finding out how much I truly hurt her.

Aaron,

I miss you.

And I will always love you.

And if I can’t make you as happy as you make me, then, as much as it will hurt me, I hope you find someone who will.

With love always

Although this one is short, the profoundness of what was written is clear. 

She had been willing to give up if she knew I wasn’t happy with her, no matter how much it hurt her.

I open another, ready to see more of what she wrote in these letters.

Aaron,

The past couple of nights I have been having the same dream.

It starts normally. I’m in the kitchen, making breakfast on what I assume is a Saturday morning. Jack comes barreling into the room, excited to help make pancakes. You come in a short while later, much slower and quieter than the first Hotchner did.

In your arms is our four-month-old son, whom you had grabbed from the nursery on your way downstairs. Jack is rambling about a dream he had as he starts pouring a bag of chocolate chips into the pancake batter. I smile at you, which you return with a silent ‘I love you.’

The scene changes and instead of being in the kitchen with the three of you, I am in my bed, waking up to light shining through the crack between the curtains. I roll to my right to find another person in the bed with me.

At first, I think it’s you, with the dark head of hair peeking out from under the quilt. I move my hand to trail through it, realizing it is not you. At all. 

My hand, which I had quickly removed upon coming to the realization it wasn’t you, causes the person next to me to stir and turn over, revealing someone nondescript, someone who wasn’t you. I scramble out of the bed, finding that this isn’t the home that I had just been in with you and Jack and our new son. 

I scramble towards the door and fly down the hallway, only stopping to open the doors along the way. None of the rooms I open have any evidence of you or Jack existing. There are no pictures, no children’s toys, no red ties casually strewn across the back of the vanity chair, no case files scattered on a bedside table, nothing. 

I soon come to the realization that you don’t exist in this version of my life, which absolutely breaks me. I can’t even imagine a life where I didn’t have you or Jack at least as friends. 

I couldn’t be happy in this version of my life and I know it. That’s what makes this dream a nightmare. The fact that it shows me what my life could very much end up like if I don’t fight for you, or for Jack. 

I don’t want to share my life with anyone but you Aaron. Forget the idea of ‘you deserve someone better’. That doesn’t matter to me because all I want is you. YOU are perfect. YOU make me a better person. YOU make me want to strive for a life full of laughter and love. 

No one but you.

Y/N

This letter truly makes me realize what could have happened had Y/N not come to my door, had she not fought for our relationship, for me. 

I reach for another one, but just as my fingers grasp it, I hear a car pull up in the driveway. A glance out the window tells me it’s Y/N and Jack.

I set down everything that had been in my lap while I was on the floor and hurry down the stairs to the kitchen. I manage to beat you there and I lean back against the kitchen island as I wait.

Jack comes rushing into the room and excitedly starts telling me about his play date. I admit I was only listening half-heartedly as I watch Y/N enter the kitchen. She has several different bags in her hands, yet she doesn’t seem to be struggling.

I listen to Jack for a while longer before I send him to pick up his room. Although Jack’s room wasn’t the neatest, I mostly sent him there to get a moment alone with Y/N, who had just returned from our bedroom after dropping off her shopping bags.

I stand fully and call out softly across the kitchen. “Come here, Y/N.” I open my arms up, inviting her in for a hug.

She doesn’t even question my request. Rather, she sets down the knife she was using to prep for dinner and steps into my embrace.

I pull her as close to me as I can, wrapping one arm around her waist and another up to pull her head into my chest.

I simply hold her, the feelings that came when reading those letters rising and falling within me. I don’t know how to bring up what was in those letters, but I know I have to. Not only because me reading them was a violation of her privacy, but also because what she wrote about in those letters was something I had never known about, something she never talked about with me.

“Y/N,” I murmur as I pull back just enough to look her in the eyes, her Y/E/C that always seemed to pull me in. “I found the letters you wrote and put in the attic.”

As I watch her, I can see the moment she realizes exactly what I am talking about. Her eyes widen and she moves back a step. She opens her mouth to respond, but I place a gentle hand on her face.

“I never realized how I had made you feel. I always thought that I was doing what was best for you. You didn’t deserve a man who works all the time, who can’t leave the job at the office, who brought home the darkness and evil he saw every day. I thought you deserved better than that.” I pause, brushing away the lone tear that was trailing down her face. 

“I realize now though, that despite what my intentions were, I still hurt you. And it kills me that I can’t go back and take that hurt away or keep myself from doing what I did.” I step closer to her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“What I can do is promise you that I will never let you feel that way again. I promise you that I’ll tell you how much I love you and how important you are to me everyday.” I finish my impromptu speech, watching her as she looks at me.

She doesn’t say anything for a while, which honestly scares me. But then she is throwing her arms around my neck, pulling me down to her lips. 

The kiss is hard and short before she puts her head on my chest. “Thank you Aaron. I know what I said in those letters and a lot of it came from deep down in me.” She presses a kiss to my t-shirt covered chest. “And to me, you’re perfect. You always have been and you always will.”

A feeling of contentment and happiness bubbles in my chest. And I know that whatever happens, as long as I have her by my side, I’ll be able to get through it.

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Home - Part 5

It had been a couple of weeks since Jack had turned up out of the blue, i had stayed with Bucky and the kids for a week while Bucky had a restraining order sorted out. I was back home now but not before Bucky had arranged for a state of the art security system for the house (which Steve came round to install), i had tried to tell him a standard alarm system would be fine but he insisted that i had this one.....I would even get alerts on my phone if anyone was detected approaching the property.

It had definitely put my mind at ease about being home alone.

Thursday night i was at the Barnes residence later than expected, Bucky had been held up on a case he was working. Allie had been unusually quiet tonight, every time i asked if she was okay she just nodded and after dinner she took herself up to bed.

It was nearing midnight when Bucky finally got home, i had been asleep in the armchair with the chunky blanket over me but woke up hearing the front door close. Bucky walked in looking exhausted but still gave me a smile when he locked eyes with me.

"Hey doll, I'm sorry its so late. You didn't have to wait up you should have gone to bed"

"I was going to but i wanted to talk to you about Allie" i told him rubbing my eyes trying to wake up.

"She okay?" He asked looking worried, i nodded quickly as he sat on the table in front of the armchair i was in.

"She's just not been herself since i picked them up from school. She's been so quiet all evening Bucky and thats just not like her..... she had dinner then took herself to bed. I tried asking if she was okay and all i got was a nod"

"That does sound odd for Allie, i'll talk to her in the morning"

"Okay, well i'll just do their lunches then I'm gonna turn in for night" i said throwing the blanket off and getting up.

"I'll help you with that, get it done quicker".

I made the sandwiches while Bucky grabbed the fruit packs and juice boxes.

He zipped up the lunch bags after adding the sandwiches i made and put them into the girls school bags. I was wiping down the side when i heard Bucky mumble "shit" under his breath.

"Everything okay?"

"I think i know whats got Allie acting like she is..." he said handing me a sheet of paper from Allie's bag.

'Mother Daughter Picnic' was written at the top of the page signed by Ms Harper for tomorrow!

"Is this a yearly thing?"

"No, they've never had one of these before"

"This woman is crazy! She doing this because you turned her down?"

"I have no idea" he run a hand through his hair "i'll just keep Allie home from school if you dont mind having her?"

"I dont mind at all Bucky you know that. Or i could go with Allie?" I shrugged, this woman was really pissing me off!

"You'd do that?"

"Of course! Ms Harper already thinks we're married so why not" i chuckled rolling my eyes "i dont want her thinking she's got one over on you either"

"Im sure Allie would love having you there with her Y/N" Bucky smiled.

"Do you think Steve could watch Rosie while i do the picnic with Allie?"

"Yeah not a problem, i'll call him in the morning get him to swing by"

"Sounds good, well I'm gonna go get some sleep...good night Buck" i smiled before turning to head up to my room, he grabbed my hand stopping me as i passed him and pulled me in for a hug.

"Thank you doll, you dont know how much this means to us. Your amazing" he kissed the top of my head and took a step back "goodnight Y/N"

"Goodnight" i replied quickly feeling my cheeks burn and went up to my room before he had a chance to see the effect he had on me!

"Allie, baby i saw a letter in your bag about a Mother Daughter picnic at school today" Bucky said at breakfast the next day, she nodded sadly not looking at any of us.

"What would you say if Y/N went with you?"

She looked up with wide eyes at me then Bucky "really?"

"If thats okay with you sweetheart, i'd love to come to a picnic with you" i smiled at her, she broke out in a huge smile climbing down from her chair and running over to me.

"Thank you Y/N" she squeezed me tightly back to the happy Allie we were used to.

She leaned back and placed her little hands either side of my face and smiled "I love you!"

If it was possible my heart would have melted right there!

"Awww Allie! I love you too sweetheart" i smiled at her.

"I love you too Y/N!" Brooke added not wanting to be left out, i chuckled before smiling over at her.

"I love you too Brooklyn James, i love you all"

I caught Bucky smiling at his girls then at me, i quickly returned his smile.

"Okay, i gotta go my girls" he got up pulling on his suit jacket "Steve will be here at 11am to watch Rosie"

"Great"

"How about i swing by the school and pick you girls up today?" Bucky suddenly added like it was the best idea he'd ever had.

"You having a early day?" I asked sounding surprised.

"Yeah, i'll be there to pick you and the girls up" he smiled kissing Rosie and Brooke on the head then coming over to where Allie was still in my lap to kiss her, he surprised me when he kissed my head too.

"See you girls later, love you" he called leaving the dining room, and with that he was gone.

"Okay, lets get you guys to school".

Steve was at the house at 11am as promised, i didn't have to be at the school til 12 so we sat and had a coffee and a chat while we waited. When i told Steve id have to walk to the school because Bucky had insisted on picking us up afterwards, he offered to drop me there instead saying he didn't want me wandering alone.

"So, Mother daughter picnics huh?" Steve said teasingly and wriggling his eyebrows as he drove me to the school.

"Yep looks like it" i nodded " i love the girls, id do anything for them.... even going to mother daughter picnics organised by bitter old bitches"

"Ms Harper definitely fits the bitter old bitch title" Steve laughed "she's liked Buck since high school! You'd think she'd get over him already.... i mean his not even that great" He rolled his eyes playfully making me laugh.

"Thats a lie and you know it, your both great guys"

"Aw thanks Y/N!"

"Shut up Steve, dont make me take it back"

"Oh no you can't take it back now"

"Fine!"

"But in all seriousness, you and Bucky seem to be getting along well...."

"Yeah of course, it'd be kinda awkward if we didn't being as I'm there with kids all day" i scoffed.

"Seems like a little more than a work relationship though"

"Well its not" i shook my head looking to Steve "do you think im sleeping with him or something?"

"No! no of course not..... are you? I mean it'd be totally okay of you were..."

"Im not! God Steve...." i huffed as he pulled up out the front of the school "i can't believe you would ask me that"

"Why? Its not such a crazy thought! I think your good together, and i haven't seen him this happy in a very long time....I think a lot of that has to do with you"

"Your crazy!"

"Tell me you dont have feelings for him then..."

"Shut up Steve" i threw the door open "im late now! Thanks!" I turned to check on Rosie she was still fast asleep in the back seat "dont be bringing this shit up to Bucky!" I closed the door and marched into the school.

I followed the signs for the picnic around the outside of the building that then led onto the playing field where benches had been set out. All the benches were filled with moms and smiling little girls, then i spotted Allie standing on her own away from everyone with Ms Harper! I jogged over only to hear Ms Harper make a comment to Allie about having no mom and that she shouldn't here at the picnic!!

I saw red!! The anger was raging through me, but i knew i couldnt make a scene here infront of everyone.

"Allie!" I called to her so she knew i was there and hadnt let her down! Her little face lit up and she flew into my arms.

"Im so sorry I'm late babe, you can blame Uncle Steve for driving like an old woman" i smiled at her before turning to look at Ms Harper.

"Ms Harper, id like to say its nice to see you again but i dont like to lie infront of my kids" i felt some semblance of pleasure from the worried look on the womans face.

"Allie why dont you go find us a seat, i'll be right there"

"Okay" she said happily running off towards the benches. Once she was far enough away i turned my attention to Ms Harper.

"I heard what you said to Allie you spiteful bitch! I get your not happy that Bucky isn't interested in you but guess what? You dont always get what you want!! And you cannot say that shit to a five year old!"

"I was only telling her the truth! Her moms dead! Why should she be here?"

"Shes got a mom you stupid fuck! Im her mom got it??! I already warned you about messing with my kid.... your lucky theres people here because god help me you would be on your fucking ass by now if they weren't!"

I turned to go find Allie but stopped to look back at Ms Harper "oh and you should probably start looking for a new job, I'm not letting this go and I'm sure my husband wont either when i tell him the vile shit coming out of your mouth"

"But i....." she started to say with wide eyes.

"Have a good afternoon Ms Harper" i called back in an over the top happy voice as i approached the benches and found Allie.

The picnic was lovely, we were sat with some of Allie's friends and their moms who Allie introduced as Josie and her mom Kylie, Emma and her mom Rachel and then Nell and her mom Nessa.

They were all lovely and very welcoming, the afternoon flew by and playdates were arranged, I'm sure Bucky would love that!

2:45 came around and the picnic was over, i took Allie's hand and we made our way out front to wait for Bucky. To our surprise he was already outside waiting for us leaning against the side of his car, he greeted us both with a smile.

"Hey girls"

"Hey yourself" i smiled at him as he scooped Allie up into one arm and draped the other over my shoulders placing a kiss on the side of my head.

"How'd it go?"

"It was so much fun daddy! Y/N met my friends!" Allie told him sounding so happy at how the afternoon went.

"She did?" He asked matching her tone and smiling. I spotted Ms Harper hovering over near the gates looking towards us and frowned.

"You okay doll? You look like your ready to murder someone" Bucky asked as his arm slipped down to wrap around my waist.

"Maybe because i am! I need to talk to you about Ms Harper....."

"Okay" he nodded then turned to strap Allie into her booster seat while we waited for Brooke to come out. Once he was done he closed the car door and turned me to face him so i had my back to Ms Harper the super bitch!! He held one hand against the side of my face making me look up at him, it would look pretty intimate to anyone watching and that was the whole point.... right?

"What happened?" He asked calmly and i couldn't help but wonder how long he'd keep that calm look about him once i told him what she had said.

"I was a little late getting here because Steve was driving like an old woman..." i started to say, i wasn't about to tell Bucky i was late because Steve was questioning mine and Bucky's relationship!

"When i got here Ms Harper was standing away from the picnic with Allie.... as i got closer i heard her telling Allie she shouldn't be at the picnic because she doesn't have a mom!" I closed my eyes trying to fight back the anger once again "how could someone say that Buck!"

I could feel the anger vibrating through Bucky but he just pulled me into his arms, my arms wrapping around his waist.

"I think we should report her Bucky, she cant get away with saying these things to Allie!"

"I agree doll, this has to stop. I'll make an appointment to see the principal”

"I can come with you if you want? Tell him what I've heard her say..."

"Yeah okay, id like that"

"I should tell you now, i threatened to knock her on her ass.... i kinda lost my shit with her" i admitted and Bucky just chuckled dropping his head to my shoulder.

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[theunmappedstar]

I dare you to give some random badboy au headcanons

so, i’m sorry, but “random headcanons” turned into “here’s the beginning of highschool badboy au plot that i have stuck in my head”... so... enjoy.

Sophie meets them because she joins Foxfire’s photography class as an elective. She has a group assignment that she has to complete, which requires her to take some photography scavenger hunt. She’s given a piece of paper with a list of different prompts she has to use to take pictures. (She’s mostly intrigued by the “street photography” bullet point).

Sophie gets paired up with Biana. They make quick friends and decide to divvy up the work - but this is also how Sophie learns about the boys.

She’d heard a little about them prior, but Sophie tended to only dip her toe into the gossip sparingly, so she doesn’t know exactly what’s up with these dudes

Sophie finds out that Biana is related to Fitz. Biana’s actually a real chatterbox when it comes to her family, so over the next week Sophie’s filled in on the majority of the timeline. (Also, the fact that everyone seemed to know of it, but her made Sophie feel really out of the loop and unpopular, but.)

The Vackers are a very wealthy and influential family. Biana’s parents naturally expected the most of their kids. Unfortunately, that only ended up dividing them. The three siblings weren’t very close when they were younger, but at least they talked - they barely interact normally anymore, according to Biana, focusing solely on their own lives and work. Alvar’s long since graduated, but Fitz and Biana are still held to their parent’s high expectations; they feel pressured to somehow reach above Alvar’s already-tremendous feats. Biana says even though it was rough, she never really saw it as a competition like her two brothers did. But that doesn’t mean she liked it, either.

Anyway, Fitz got so fed up with it and after a blowout, he managed to fall into what the Vacker parents love to call the “wrong crowd.”

The “wrong crowd” happens to be two kids - one from Foxfire Academy and one from a neighboring not-so-pristine school called Exillium.

Sophie’s interested as to who the two kids are, naturally, so she asks.

She almost immediately regrets that decision because as it would turn out, she knows those two kids.

Or, at least, she used to.

The first, Keefe Sencen, was surrounded by a lot of talk in her grade because of how he’d managed to skip a year when he was younger - and now Sophie finds that he’s apparently close to having to retake a year, since his grades have started to slip. She’d only seen him a couple times in elementary and had been paired with him for projects a staggering record of two times, but that didn’t mean he was one she would forget. (Those two group projects had been hell for her. He’d messed around with her so much and made her so frustrated and flustered and urg she hadn’t known how to act around a boy so obnoxious-but-cute).

Sophie doesn’t know if she’s surprised or not to find out that he managed to flip into the resident bad boy

The second one, Tam Song, happened to be a childhood friend (or she assumed that was the same Tam Song. There couldn’t be that many Tam Songs in the world, right?). She’d had a couple playdates with him before his parents had moved him and his twin sister away. She found out years later from her parents that the Songs had been having financial troubles and could no longer afford to be in the neighborhood/attend the academy

Sophie is baffled that the three managed to get together and start a reputation for themselves, no less

Sophie’s also baffled that they’re so well-known and yet she hadn’t really heard a thing about them; seriously, how unpopular was she?

When she relays the info to Dex and Marella at lunch, they tease Sophie that they’ve been waiting for it to hit her for years.

“...Why do you think we sit alone?” Dex asks.

Honestly, Sophie never really bothered to think about it. “I don’t know.”

Marella just snort-giggles. “Listen, you’re really smart, Sophie: you could build an entire AI system if you put your mind to it. But sometimes you lack a little thing called common sense.”

She doesn’t know whether to be offended or flattered.

She chooses to be flattered.

In the following days, Biana and Sophie get to checking off the to-do list for the assignment. Sophie’s first one requires her to take pictures of the interior of the school. She knows full well she could use her press pass to take pictures of the empty hallways during school, but that would require setting a time up with teachers, which would mean talking to teachers, which required basic social interaction... which.... was not very appealing and definitely not on Sophie’s list of Things I Want To Do.

She instead decides to stay after school for half an hour and take pictures.

She’s meandering around, snapping pictures here and there, trying to find out which angles would make the pictures less boring when she’s startled by a voice.

Sophie nearly drops the camera and whirls to find a boy sprawled across the bench outside the principle’s office. It takes her a moment to recognize him, but it eventually floods her brain.

Surprise, surprise - it’s Keefe Sencen.

He’s changed a lot since she last saw him. Granted, she last saw him when they were, like, six, but she lets herself be shocked.

Keefe’s got the whole getup. Ripped jeans, black tee, jet-black leather jacket... And he wears curiously, Sophie notices, an abundance of chains. Specifically, those rapper chains that dangle around your neck.

Sophie doesn’t realize that he’s called for her until he does it again. He’s asking what she’s up to, walking around with a camera like that after school.

She doesn’t know why, but “Yearbook” stumbles out.

She is not in Yearbook. She’s in Photography - close, but not quite it.

Keefe seems to feed off of her being flustered. It looks like he seriously enjoys it. he goes on to ask her what she’s got to take pictures of

She can’t really speak when he stands, hands shoved in his pockets, looking like that, so she just... hands the list over to him.

He quirks a brow and muses about the student/faculty box that has yet to be checked and he asks why she’s saved that one, since she’s been at school all day.

“Well, I... don’t really know how to casually approach someone and ask for a picture.”

It’s true. Everyone’s moving so fast and about their day during school hours and it’s especially hard to catch anybody after school.

Keefe just shrugs. “Then, you don’t have to.”

It takes her a second to realize what he means. He’s offering to let her take a picture of two of him.

It seems like a good idea. He’s right there and she can get it done and over with, but something about lifting the camera and snapping some shots of Keefe Sencen... Having to go home and know that she has access to pictures of him that she herself got to take...

He seems untouchable, is the thing. It seems like this is something that shouldn’t be happening - like he should have shooed her off like she was some human scum. It seems like they’re on two different levels. She’s the weird kid nobody really strives to talk to and he’s the boy that everyone’s terrified and annoyed (but secretly impressed) of.

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

Keefe interrupts her to assure her he doesn’t mind. He does ask if it sounds a little too self-centered, though, the way he just offered himself up for grabs.

Sophie’s not really listening because she’s too mesmerized by him combing his hands through his hair.

She kinda just blinks and mumbles some incoherent reply while trying to set the camera up. Her hands are super shaky and Keefe notices. Sophie stiffens when he outstretches a hand and asks if he can see the camera

“Um,” she starts, forcing herself to look at him, “I don’t think I should. I don’t own this and if it gets damaged-”

“Relax,” he murmurs. He retracts his hand instantly. “I was just asking. I took photography - I’m interested what camera they’ve given you. It looks different from the one I used; which seriously sucked, by the way.”

He pauses for a second to look her up and down. It makes her squirm, feeling on fire.

“And the pictures don’t have to be of me, right? They can be of students, if I’m remembering the guidelines correctly.” He waves the paper in his hands before reaching out to give it back to her. “And you, Miss...”

When Sophie recognizes he’s asking for her name, she blushes. “Sophie.” She plucks the paper from his hand.

He gives a swirling hand gesture, like he’s prodding for more.

“Foster,” she contends.

He nods, satisfied once he has her last name. “Foster,” he repeats, then continues, “Well, you’re a student, if I do say so myself. So, that means...” He lifts up his hands, pretending like he’s holding an imaginary camera. He pretends to adjust the lens and focus on her, finger hovering over the imaginary button that would take the imaginary picture.

He smirks. “Need a smile there, Foster,” he beckons.

She’s pretty sure she can’t get any redder. “I’m not really photogenic,” she argues, reaching forward to beckon his fake camera down.

He relents and let’s his hands drop, but his smirk remains. “Sure.”

She doesn’t really know what to say after that, so she hands him the camera with a mumble. Keefe eagerly takes it in his hands (which makes her notice the rings he has littered on his fingers) and he starts flipping and fiddling.

He says some random model name to her which she doesn’t really pay attention to. She only snaps up when his meddling ends and he asks, “Hey, by the way, how’ve the group projects been going?”

His smile seems more tender. More reminiscent. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, which makes Sophie realize he remembers her. And, in turn, he remembers those god-awful projects they were forced to endure together.

She’s pretty sure she turns redder than her rosy skirt. “You remember that?” she mumbles.

Keefe chuckles. “Remember? Can’t really forget.” He taps his temple. “Also, anything that involves a cute girl is immediately filed to the front of my brain.”

Sophie’s so struck by the compliment that she nearly grazes over his first fact. How had she managed to forget he had a photographic memory just like her?

She doesn’t quite know how to respond, but she manages to pull a smile and mumble something about needing to get to work if she wants to finish the project. Surprisingly, Keefe just smiles back and offers her the camera. She makes sure not to graze too much of his skin as she takes the camera from his hands, shaking. She thanks him and turns to bolt away as fast as her legs can carry her (because she knows she’s on fire and she knows he can see it and oh god-) when his voice slows her down.

“I’m serious about that picture thing, Foster. If you need any help, I’ve got time.”

She stops in the hallway to look at him. Sophie raises a slow eyebrow and gestures to the office. Her hand is unsteady, but she’s proud when her voice doesn’t shake. “You seem pretty busy to me.”

Keefe laughs. “Nah, this is normal. But I can find a way to make some time for you.”

Sophie’s sure he says something more along the line of, “All you need to do is ask,” but she’s pretty sure the entire world has become a blur. in a flash she’s said her goodbye and she’s speed walking out to Dex’s car (he offered to drive her home after school, that day. He does it whenever he has time, actually. They live in the same neighborhood, which is pretty convenient, given they’re best friends and adoptive cousins).

Dex can see she’s off her game, but he doesn’t delve into it. The car ride home is pretty quiet.

Also when Biana and Sophie see each other in class the following day, it’s pretty hard for Sophie to come up with an excuse as to why she doesn’t have that many photos. She promises that she’ll stay after school again to try and make them up.

She does.

And that’s when she meets Fitz.

Sophie doesn’t really know how it happened. She avoided the area she’d seen Keefe in at all costs, snapping pictures literally anywhere else she could find, but somehow she wound up outside on the curb. And somehow she ended up wandering through the mostly-empty parking lot, snapping pictures of the parking spaces that the seniors had decorated (every year the graduating class got to customize their parking spot with spray paint). And wandering through the parking lot taking pictures led to her spotting a few sleek bikes.

In hindsight, Sophie thinks she finally understands what Marella meant by “you’re smart but you have no common sense,” because she walks up to the bikes. They’re against the curbside parking spaces, so Sophie steps up on the sidewalk and begins observing the shiny vehicles.

She’s never really been keen on motorcycles (the idea of getting one kind of terrifies her) but she has to admit that they look good.

And Sophie, lacking that beautiful common sense, snaps a picture.

She barely holds back the squeak when someone behind her asks what she’s up to. Sophie turns around to meet two boys in leather jackets. They’ve both got dark heads of hair, but one is noticeably lighter. And the darkest sported silver-dyed bangs.

She’s pretty sure her insides shrivel. It’s them, there’s no denying. Her photographic memory compares Tam’s aged features with the ones from his youth, seeing how his soft face had turned to hard-and-handsome lines. And she can see the resemblance to Biana in Fitz’s equally-charming face.

(Also, the more that she thought about it, she’d actually been put against Fitz during one of the stupid elementary spelling bees. She severely prayed he didn’t remember her as spelling bee girl.)

“Sorry,” she apologizes sheepishly. She lifts the camera. “Photography. I can delete it.”

She should have asked before doing that. She seriously should have asked. She feels like she’s been caught and she’s considering turning tail and running when they shrug and tell her it’s fine. She’s pretty sure she’s dreaming when she gets asked if she at least liked the bikes or if it was just for the assignment.

She says it was for the assignment, but she does like them.

Fitz smiles at her for the first time and Sophie’s legs become jello. 

Shit, how can someone look that nice while smiling?

But it doesn’t last too long because Tam asks who she is and where he’s seen her before. His head is tilted at her, dangly earrings twirling with the motion. Sophie can tell he does recognize her, at least a bit. All eyes are on her, so she feels a bit squirmy mentioning how she knows Tam, but once she does, his eyes light up and his eyebrows launch.

“Oh, Sophie. Shit.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Shit.”

Years later, it looks impossible to imagine that they’d ever been friends. They were so... different from each other, now.

They all start making semi-awkward conversation, discussing the school year and Sophie’s photography anything random they can come up with when Keefe rolls out of the school.

“Foster?”

She waves. “Oh, um. Hey.”

Keefe reaches his friends and his eyebrows crunch. He asks if they know her. Tam shrugs and says they knew each other when they were little, but they haven’t seen one another in years. Fitz admits Biana’s mentioned a Foster girl, but he doesn’t know her (Sophie’s pretty sure she’s dead. She didn’t know Biana talked about her at the house, even if it was something like measly dinner small talk.)

Keefe turns and grins at her, seeing the camera in her hand. “Yearbook again?”

She flushes. “Photography, actually.” Seeing his confusion, she continues, “I don’t know why I said Yearbook, yesterday. I’m in Photography, not Yearbook.”

Shockingly, Keefe just snorts. He muses that she’s something else before waltzing over and outstretching his hand. Sophie hands him the paper chock-full of guidelines again. Keefe starts muttering that she has a lot more crossed off than yesterday.

“You’ve still got a bit to go,” he points out.

Sophie just kinda nods. She’s mostly focusing on not letting her knees buckle in front of all of them. Her hands on the camera are sweating. It’s weird, how she’s managed to get caught in this situation. Everyone steers clear of these three, she knows, but now she’s somehow stuck in normal conversation with them. About photography, no less.

Keefe spots the street photography point and hums. He points to it, showing her the paper. “That seems interesting.” He meets her eyes. “Gonna take me up on my offer, yet, Foster?”

She swallows. “Oh, uh, street photography isn’t here, it’s-”

“On the street,” Keefe agrees, handing her back the paper. He shares one glance with his friends before meandering to his bike, slinging his leg over the seat.

Tam huffs a short laugh, grinning like he understands before he goes to hop on his own ride. Fitz is the last one behind, hands shoved in his pockets, just standing and smiling in amusement.

“You’re free, aren’t you?” Keefe implores. “We can make it quick. Drop you off back here - or wherever.”

Sophie chews on her lip. It is a tempting offer. She doesn’t really have a ride into the city planned, so it seems like the perfect opportunity. One quick ride, a few pictures, and she can leave. But that also means getting on a motorcycle. Which. . . kind of terrifies her.

“One ride, Foster,” Keefe promises, seeing the way she’s staring at the bike. “Does fifteen minutes sound good?”

Fifteen minutes is definitely enough time for her to get in a crash. Fifteen minutes is also definitely enough time for them to murder someone, but Sophie tries hard not to think about that.

Especially not when Keefe shrugs off his jacket and tosses it to her. Sophie catches it with a gasp, thankful that she doesn’t drop the camera. “Um,” she starts.

She cuts herself off when Fitz goes to his bike and pops open a back storage compartment. He snatches out a spare helmet, then waltzes back up onto the sidewalk next to her, reaching out his to trade the camera for the helmet.

Sophie swallows.

Seeing how nervous she is, he smiles, making a short nudge with his chin in the direction of the bike. “It’s up to you,” he promises.

“You won’t get hurt,” Keefe also assures. “You’ve got jeans on. And you wear that jacket and the helmet, you’ll be fine.”

She doesn’t like the fact that she has to take those precautionary measures in the first place. But, she guesses it’s just what one has to do. It’s like wearing a seatbelt in a car. This is the motorcycle’s seatbelt.

Sophie hands Fitz the camera and takes the helmet. She slips on the jacket, ignoring the heat that runs through her body at how nice it feels - and how Keefe looks at her.

Sophie clears her throat and puts the helmet on. Her fingers fumble horribly with the straps around her chin and no matter how much she tugs, she can’t get it right. Fitz has to come back over and help her, laughing gently. He narrates to her how to do it as he cinches it up for her with diligent fingers, smiling.

Sophie, however, is anything but smiling when he pulls away. There’s only one step left - to get on that bike with him, hold on tight to his waist, and pray that they don’t take her to some secondary location.

Sophie makes sure to look him in the eyes to know she’s serious. “You kill me, I kill you.”

Fitz chuckles. “Noted.”

[violentmouths]

It's a Dat- I Mean Playdate

So I made @birdgirl69 wait long enough, here is the chapter to this odd book. Lemme tag the homies...

@clevermentalitybeliever @lessy86 @thedyingmoon @lunafreyastrophywife @krazy06

And let's begin

***

Chapter 4: Grocery Shopping

I rise the earliest, and because of this behavior, it means I have to make breakfast. He rolled Dante, who was still laying on me from last night onto the mattress, and quietly went downstairs to the kitchen.

To get through making breakfast I'd usually turn on the vinyl and play the Ride of Valkyries, gently humming the song as I continued to cook. From the moment Nero and Vitale walked into the kitchen, I was done making their breakfast; Okayu (rice porridge) with pickled plums.

"Morning dad..." Nero grumbled, scratching his head as he say down at the dinner table, "Morning Father." Vitale grunted, stretching his arms out as he walked towards the table as well, "Morning you two." I mumbled, looking over my shoulder before walking over to the table with their food, placing it in front of them.

The boys looked down at it, watching the stream rise and dance before their little eyes, Vitale took the first bite, smiling at his meal "Delicious as always, father!" He muffled, his mouth was full and I could see the mushed up food which left me disgusted "Chew, swallow, then talk Vitale." I instructed, Vitale swallowed his food before looking down at his bowl again "Pardon me, Father..." he said quietly.

What was their deal with thinking I'm always grouchy and will hurt them the second I get?!

NO!

Dante walked into the kitchen, not acknowledging us until he looked into the refrigerator "Mornin' guys!" Was all he said, still looking for something in the fridge "Morning Dante, what are you looking for? Breakfast is right here..."

"I don't wanna eat that shit, Verg."

"Watch your language, Dante. There are children here."

"Sorry, what I meant to say is... I don't want what you just cooked, I want cereal."

I rolled my eyes at this, "Then you're going be crying about how you're hungry in half an hour..." I groaned. "Actually, I'm gonna to complain now... There's no milk." Dante argued, opening the freezer as he closed the refrigerator door.

"And no icecream either!?" He yelled in panic, Vitale and Nero chuckled under their breath, continuing to eat their porridge. "Who eats icecream in the morning?" I asked, running my fingers through my hair. Dante's stupidity, was the kind that leaves you breathless. I'm absolutely happy- no, relieved that he didn't have children of his own. "No milk, no icecream... This house is boring!" Dante yelled at the top of his lungs "Yet you still live here..." I trailed off "Eat our food." Nero continued for me "Watch our TV." Vitale chimed in, Dante was at a loss for words as we tore into him. "Still boring." Dante stated, Nero, Vitale, and I sighed "I'll go and get some milk and icecream, Nero would would you like to accompany me?" I suggested since my first son was done with his breakfast "Sure dad." Nero muffled, food was still in his mouth which made me turn away "Swallow then talk, Nero!" I grumbled.

I had to wait a while for Nero to get ready, so I stood by the door, looking around and silently breathing. The sounds of pitter patter coming down the stairs was from none other than Nero, who had his shoes already on. "Brushed your teeth?" I asked, "Yeah dad." He replied, smiling up at me, I smiled back as I placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him outside. It was a beautiful day for a walk, seeing the colors again, feeling the cool breeze against my body. How could you not enjoy it? Nero grabbed two of my fingers making me look down at him, he wasn't looking up at me, just at what was on front of us.

In the grocery store was cold and quiet, the only sound you could hear was from the carts squeaky wheels and the music on the radio.

"Come Nero, let's make this quick." I whispered, gripping his hand tightly, we quickly made our way over to the dairy aisle, grabbing a carton behind the first one because I never trust the first one and it always look like it's on bad shape.

"Don't forget to buy cereal for uncle Dante, dad." Nero advised, I looked down at him and nodded.

"Thank you for reminding me Nero, we would have heard him complain for days on end." I groaned,taking his hand and going towards the cereal aisle.

I swear the moment we got to the cereal aisle I felt my stomach churn as Nero's face lit up, not only did Dante love cereal but Vitale and Nero did as well; it wasn't healthy and doesn't fill their stomach up for hours, hence why I never let them eat it. That's why I cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinner. "Dad can I-" "Go for it..." I interrupted, and within two seconds Nero ran down the aisle looking at every box of cereal, I rolled my eyes at this.

I hate cereal.

Something pushed me from behind making me lunge forward, I slowly turned my body to see a bunch of cereal boxes stacked high, I looked back down the aisle to see Nero still looking around for a certain cereal. I turned back around to see the cereal boxes backing away just to push into me again, I moved out of the way as the cereal boxes went backwards then went past me.

I watched the stacked cereal boxes go down the aisle only to discover that a small child was holding them. They were wearing a white sweater with blue writing on it and blue overalls, even their shoes matched with outfit. They had slightly curled hair and from that moment on I knew who it was; Dante Sirene, son of Alexandra Sirene.

If he was here, she had to be too; but I didn't want to go looking for her. That's creepy.

I smiled as he walked past Nero and went right. I couldn't help it, something about the quiet child made me happy, perhaps it was because they were silent, independent, talented, and intelligent.

Perhaps it was because they weren't my own and made my children look like animals. I was too busy looking down the hall that I didn't even notice that Nero walked up to me.

"All set, dad." He said holding up two boxes of cereal, I looked down as Nero continued to hold up the boxes "Alright, we can continue shopping." I advised, placing a hand behind Nero's back, steering him down another aisle.

Nero and I went to the frozen food aisle and grabbed a tub of strawberry icecream, and I kid you not, the little quiet child was in the aisle, searching for something. He later on opened the door, grabbed a bunch of boxes, and stacked them on his head. The child walked away from the frozen aisle and disappeared, leaving my son and I alone to grab the things we need.

Every aisle we went down, the child was there. But once we went to the produce aisle, the little boy wasn't there; he must've not liked vegetables. Or perhaps he was too small to be seen.

"I'm just going to grab some vegetables and fruit and after that, we can leave." I explained looking down at Nero, who looked back at me and nodded. Walking towards the vegetables, I grabbed potatoes, carrots and corn, but the moment I got to the broccoli, someone grabbed the same exact one I did.

I slowly turned my head to see a blonde woman eyeing the broccoli, she blinked about two times before she turned her head towards me. Her eyes widened the way moment she saw me, "Oh my, what a surprise meeting you here." The woman's voice was filled with joy yet it wouldn't go over an indoor voice.

Alexandra caused me to smile without doing anything, she had on a light blue dress with white flowers printed all over it, her hair was still in a messy bun and still filled with little red roses.

"I had a feeling you were here, your son was in some of the aisles by his lone some." I replied, pointing a thumb behind me, Alexandra leaned to the side before straightening her posture. Staring at me with half lidded eyes, her lips curved into a smile.

"Oh yes, my little helper. He always comes back to me after he gets what we need." She explained, looking around for her son, who appeared out of nowhere with packages of instant noodles stacked high. He threw the packages until the shopping cart behind his mother, then stood next to his mother, staring at us "Nero this is Dante Sirene, the child you're going play with tomorrow." I explained, crouching down to Nero's height, Dante Sirene stared at us blankly before holding out his hand for Nero to shake. Nero took Dante Sirene's hand and shook it "Nice to meet you, Dante." Nero said shyly but Dante Sirene didn't respond right away, he took his hand out of Nero's as he rolled his eyes "Pleasure is all mine, chamaco." He groaned.

He must've been having a bad day.

Alexandra frowned at Dante before looking at me "Forgive my son... Dante, des excuses au garçon." She snapped at her son, she was speaking french?

Dante Sirene looked at his mother before looking at Nero "Madre fina, excuse my attitude Nero, I'm not fond of talking..." He sighed looking down at the ground.

Why were they speaking two different languages?

When I first saw the child, he was sand sculpting in the sandbox with his little sister, now he's talking to his mother in Spanish. This child is interesting. "N-no worries." Nero stammered, getting nervous of the boys stare. I didn't see it before but the child's eyes were terrifying; the irises were blue, but the scleras were black! And the way he shifted them made it hard to look. I slowly looked at Alexandra, who started to smile sweetly at me.

I can't believe I'm saying this but, I, Vergil Sparda, am scared of this family.

[vex-bittys]

It Starts at Home: Drabble Request

An AO3 request for a Mamba unintentionally bullying his shy, timid teenage owner. 

Every weekday, the Mamba’s teenaged owner came home from school looking stressed out and exhausted. They would greet him, then go to the fridge to make a sandwich for them both to share. The Mamba always supervised the sandwich-making; if he didn’t, his owner put strawberry jelly on the sandwich. The Mamba preferred grape jelly. Something about the rich purple color appealed to him.

One day, his painfully shy owner brought home another student from school to work on a project together. The other human had a Papython, and the Mamba’s owner suggested that they play together. The Papython bounced with joy at meeting a new friend, but the Mamba was reluctant. He glared at the Papython while his owner gathered the ingredients for their after school sandwich, almost missing the strawberry jelly set out on the counter.

“The Vile and Venomous Mamba does not need playdates arranged for him,” he hissed loftily at the Papython and his owner. Turning to his own teenaged human, he spotted the strawberry jelly already being spread onto a slice of bread. “Grape!” he snapped indignantly, not realizing that his owner’s hands were already trembling from nervousness at having another person in their home.

The knife clattered to the counter, and the Mamba’s owner fled, dashing upstairs to their room to hide behind a closed and locked door. The other teenager stood in the awkward silence of the kitchen, unsure whether they should leave or wait.

The Papython whirled and faced the Mamba, hands propped on his tail where the hipbones would’ve been on a regular skeleton. “How could you treat your owner like that?” He hissed in outrage.

“You have no idea how I treat my owner!” retorted the Mamba.

The Papython’s skull tilted slightly, and his bony brows rose in surprise as the startling truth dawned on him.

“You don’t know them at all, do you?” the Papython asked with a pitying expression. “Maybe you should ask them why they need to come straight home and eat a sandwich every day. Maybe you should ask them what kind of jelly is their favorite.”

The Mamba vibrated with raw fury. Fortunately for the Papython, his owner decided it would be better to leave. That foolish human probably though their hisses and chirps were a friendly conversation and didn’t even know how close their precious Papython had come to receiving a nasty bite. The other lamia’s words made him think though. He decided to go upstairs and check on his owner.

The timid teenager sat on the floor next to their bed, forehead resting on their knees as they quietly cried. He’d only asked for grape jelly. Why would they cry over that? How stupid! The teen noticed him watching, and they quickly sniffled and wiped away their tears. With a sigh, the Mamba dragged a box of tissues over to them and waited until they dried their tears and blew their nose to speak.

“Why you make sandwich after school?” No point in beating around the bush. The Mamba had to know what the Papython was talking about.

His owner heistated. “Well… it’s just… there are some guys… at school... and sometimes… well… they take my lunch,” they finally admitted.

The Mamba’s jaw nearly dropped right off of his face. How dare these other humans take his owner’s lunch! “Why you not stop them?” he asked, imagining all kinds of scenarios that involved biting or punching the bullies.

“There’s no point. It’s easier to just let them do it.” The teen shrugged listlessly as if it were simply a fact of life to have one’s food stolen.

The Mamba narrowed his sockets. He had an inkling where this conversation was headed. His owner was shy. His owner was timid; they never stood up for themselves… even to him, it seemed. “Tell me truth?” he ventured.

“Always,” they promised.

“What kind of jelly you like?”

His owner refused to meet his eyelights. The Papython had been right! “Oh, I like any kind really…”

“Truth!” insisted the Mamba.

At first the Mamba thought they weren’t going to answer, but after a long, long pause, they blurted out “I really don’t like grape! Strawberry is my favorite!”

The Mamba nodded. “Go make sandwich. Strawberry jelly this time. No grape!” It was the shy teenagers turn to nod.

A Mamba couldn’t be truly strong and proud without an owner who could be strong and proud as well. It would be his duty from now on to help his owner develop the confidence they deserved to have as a Mamba owner! Today, they started with jelly choices; tomorrow he planned to go to school with his owner to let those bully kids know that his owner’s lunch was off-limits!

Nobody would ever treat his owner poorly again if he could help it. Not their classmates, and certainly not their lamia!

More Drabbles | INDEX | Read on AO3

[westallenfun]

Barry and Iris Get Married, at five.

Westallen Secret Santa gift from @abbeyb77  for @carni611

For reference, it’s 1994.

Joe was on the sofa reading the newspaper and drinking a coffee one August morning when there was a small knock at the door. Joe got up and went over to answer the door. He wondered who it might be, since Iris had already gone over to Barry’s house for a playdate. Much to his surprise it was Barry and Iris standing there with a stack of hand drawn flyers.

“Hi Barry, Hi Iris, what are you two up to this morning?” Joe asked.

“Hi daddy,” Iris said. “We brought you a invitation. Barry and me are having a wedding this afternoon and you’re invited.”

“Are you?” Joe asked, feigning surprise, “Who’s getting married?”

“Us,” Barry said, “but just for pretend. We have to be old to get married for real. Mom said so.”

Joe glanced up. Nora waved to him from the end of the walk.  He looked back at Barry and Iris.

“Do you have things all planned out yet?” Joe asked them.

“Not yet,” said Iris, “but Mrs. Allen says she’ll help us after we finish handing out our invitations.”

“Oh yeah, I mremembered,” Barry interjected. “Mom and dad want you to come over.”

“Can I come with you?” Joe asked.

“Okay,” Iris said, “but you have to stay with Mrs. Allen. We want to do it all on our own.”

Joe grabbed his keys and locked the door behind him. Barry and Iris ran ahead shrieking and Joe caught up with Nora who was waiting for him.

“So where did this whole marriage thing come from?” Joe asked. “I didn’t even think Barry noticed Iris was a girl.”

“We were watching The Sound of Music on TV the other night,” Nora explained.

“With or without the Nazism?” Joe asked.

“With, but the network trims a lot of it away for time. He was quite enthralled by the wedding scene though; he asked about a hundred questions about it.”

Barry and Iris went up to another neighbour’s house and knocked on the door.

“I wasn’t in the room when it started this morning, but he was telling Iris about The Sound of Music when I went to make them some lunch. I don’t know what he said, but I heard Iris say ‘I want one!’ from the kitchen.”

The bewildered old lady took the invitation from Iris with a pained look of confusion then closed the door.

“When I called them to the table they brought a list Barry had started with ‘burry nd irys’s webbing’ written across the top.”

This time Barry and Iris talked to another one of their playmates who seemed vastly uninterested.

“I been to a real grown up wedding,” she said, “They’re boring!” And with that, shut the door in their faces.

Barry looked a bit crushed, but Iris rebounded. “She’s gonna miss cake!” Iris exclaimed like it was a scandal, and she pulled Barry along to the next house.

“It was a to do list according to Barry. Church, bride, husband, dress. I helped them to expand it to invitations, bouquet, dress, suit, and reception. They decided to make invitations and hand them out first.”

“If they’re handing out invitations, where are they getting married?”

“Our living room. Barry wanted to have the ceremony performed by Mr. Dinosaur and Iris did not object.”

“When this afternoon are they getting married exactly?” Joe asked.

“Four. I figure that gives us a few hours to pull a few things together. Henry is watching the cake while it’s in the oven, and when the invitations are out Iris can stop on the way home and get some Queen Anne’s lace and daisies for a bouquet.”

Barry and Iris knocked on the door.

“Hi Mrs. Abbot, is Claire here?” Barry asked.

“Sorry kiddo, she’s at her grandma’s this weekend,” Mrs. Abbot replied.

“Thanks anyway,” Iris said.

Barry ran back down the steps and stopped to hug Nora.

“Are Grandma and Grandpa T coming mom?” Barry asked.

“Yes sweetheart, daddy’s going to pick them up later. Are you almost done handing out your invitations?”

“Yeah. Only Jessie’s house left.” And with that Barry and Iris bounced off down the street to hand out their last invitation.

***

At three thirty the assembled crowd for Barry and Iris’ wedding consisted of Nora, Henry, Nora’s elderly parents, Joe, and their ninety year old neighbour Mrs. Morrison. Mrs. Morrison handed Iris a small hand wrapped gift, which Iris quickly tore into. Inside was an old small metal toy iron and an equally elderly tea set made out of tin.

“My daddy bought those for me when I was your age, Iris, back in 1908, and I was blessed with three sons and five grandsons but no little girls to share them with. Every married girl needs a strong iron and a good set for tea. Will you take care of them for me?”

“Say ‘thank you’ Iris,” Joe whispered behind her.

Iris hugged Mrs. Morrison. “Thank you,” she said.

“I’ll go put those aside, Iris, do you want to go with Mrs. Allen and get your veil on?”

Iris nodded and wandered off to find Barry and Nora. Joe thanked Mrs. Morrison for the gift and went off to get his special surprise for Iris.

***

He approached Henry and Nora Allen with a small jewelry box and pulled them aside.

“I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon, and I’ve decided it’s the right time to pass this on to Iris,” Joe said. He opened the box and showed them a small ring on a chain. “This belonged to Iris’ mother, Francine. I thought Barry might be able to give this to Iris during the ceremony.”

Nora looked misty eyed. “That’s beautiful Joe, I’m sure Iris will feel truly blessed one day to have something that belonged to her mother. I had brought along a few costume jewelry rings with me, I think the simple gold band would work for Iris to give to Barry.”

“I’m going to go set up the camera, hon,” Henry said, giving Nora a kiss and setting off with a camera bag in tow.

“I’ll go and set up our bride and groom, do you want to take the rings and the music and announce their arrival?” Nora asked.

“Absolutely,” Joe replied. “Where’s the music?”

Nora handed him a ‘My First Sony’ cassette player. “Barry chose the music. I have no idea what song he picked, so brace yourself for what a five year old thought should play at a wedding.”

***

At four, the camera was rolling and Barry and Iris were waiting to make their entrance. Nora nodded to Joe, so he stepped in front of the crowd.

“Uh, thank you all for coming here today to celebrate the union of Iris Ann West and Bartholomew Henry Allen. Following the ceremony there will be cake and lemonade in the kitchen.”

Joe balanced the tape player on his hip. “Ladies and gentleman, may I present the bride and groom!”

He pressed play. As Barry and Iris walked arm in arm, the titular song from Beauty and the Beast played. ‘Always musicals with that boy,’ Joe thought.

Iris was wearing her favourite dress and a plastic tiara over a simple white veil. Barry was wearing a fancy hat and black suit jacket over a striped tee and a pair of track pants.

Joe cut the music and Iris and Barry giggled as they exchanged silly promise vows and spoke with ‘minister dinosaur’. After that they paused and Henry prompted them to exchange rings.

“… As a peromise of my friend…ship to you,” Barry repeated.

He put the necklace over Iris’ neck.

“I give you this ring as my friend to you,” Iris repeated from memory, and put the ring on Barry’s finger.

“I now pronounce you bride and groom, you may kiss the bride,” Henry supplied.

“Ewwwwww, gross!” Barry and Iris exclaimed, making faces and sticking their tongues out. The grownups laughed.  Henry directed them to walk back down the living room and everyone clapped and cheered.

‘What a beautiful wedding indeed,’ Joe thought.

[fulldreamsahead]

Look Who’s a Homeless Toddler

Look out world, because last night I had the wildest dream that combines a few classic sit-coms and movies into the ultimate reboot. If you loved Look Who’s Talking, Home Alone, or Tokyo Godfathers then I have a dream for you. 

We start with a pair of toddlers (we’re talking kids who can just barely walk, but not really talk) that are Roseanne Barr and John Goodman. I’m filling in the role of Roseanne, but I’m operating it in a video game third person camera angle. The two of us are on a playdate and my older brother Kevin MccAllister is babysitting us. In the beginning of the dream I never get to see Kevin, he’s instead talked about. He’s apparently being quite cruel to us, taunting us, and generally being a nightmare of an older brother, so toddler John Goodman and I decide we’ve had enough so we run away to the streets of NYC. Did I mention that we can barely speak, like toddlers, but there is a running narration like in the Look Who’s Talking movies where we can communicate only with other toddlers in full adult voices? 

If this has captured your attention, head below to read the rest of the dream. 

There’s a short skip to a few weeks later and we are living like the homeless toddler kings of the city. The majority of my dream involves us going on our daily routine, but we keep almost getting caught by another homeless toddler that is like a male version of Fran Drescher. We know if we get caught by him that his nasally voice will chew our ears off. He’s caught our sight and he keeps calling out to us and trying to toddle after, so we duck into the only place we might have a chance at losing him: a homeless shelter for children (an orphanage?!). Unfortunately, he follows us in and we both take shelter by pressing ourselves up against an employee entrance that is a small alcove. He’s calling out to us, but this is a dead-end and we start to panic. We back up as much as we can and in doing so we get a peek through a crack in the door to see there are employees working at small desks inside. I try the door to find it open and we storm inside, closing it behind us. A woman with gorgeous box braids glares at us and we plead with our hands (adults can’t hear the narration) for her to please let us stay and we gesture to who is outside. She recognizes boy Fran Drescher and takes pity on us by calling an organized lunch. Within minutes a bunch of homeless children have swarmed the center and we use the cover to sneak away from Fran. 

In the process of ditching Fran we unfortunately have been picked up by Kevin, who has been tailing us all along.  This is when I get my first real glimpse of Kevin and unfortunately this isn’t the Kevin you know and love; instead he has been aged up to 15 and is by all accounts the stereotype for ‘douche.’ He has his hair slicked back, his fingers are dripping with gold rings, he’s got white boat pants and shoes on and a black polo shirt with the color popped up. We run down the streets of NYC to get away from him and slip out of the crowd into a local bodega. As we peruse the produce, I tell John Goodman that we need to find out where Kevin is crashing and ransack his place. John Goodman thinks this is a bad plan that is both mean and will get us caught, but I dismiss him angrily in a very typical Roseanne fashion. We separate in a huff and the dream slips into a comical montage where toddler Roseanne is buying groceries from the bodega. Apparently the two of us would beg on the street and we had about $50 saved up. I watch in the third person view as toddler Roseanne buys a random combination of things like one whole eggplant and a jar of horseradish. As I’m getting close to the register with my little hand basket of random items that I can barely hold because I’m a toddler, I see a little souvenir stand with an advertisement for mini white fur trees in glass. The name is bizarre to me because it’s an oblong snow globe type paperweight almost that is full of water and placed inside is a drooping flower. Here is a quick approximation of what it looks like: 

The souvenir seemed really significant and, while I’m talking to myself via narration, a stock boy catches sight of me staring at it. He explains to me that this is a special souvenir of the city that represents the famous white fur trees of the fall and if you can keep both flowers alive then you will have great luck. I fumble with my toddler hands/reach to bypass the first few on the shelf because the flowers are already dead before I find one that has one flower that is close to death and another that is alive. This reminds me of my situation so I throw it into the basket and get to the register. The set up is a counter, the register itself, and then a coffee machine (the kind in convenience stores where you push the button and it spews out a premeasured amount of one flavor). I gesture to the lady to get herself and the stock boy some coffee and thankfully she understands. I buy my weird toddler foods, the coffee for the employees and then I wave my hand for her to keep the crumpled up money change I’ve dropped onto the counter toddler style after she tells me the grand total is $45. I’m struggling with the two paper sacks everything was bagged in when I hear the cashier give the stock boy his coffee and make conversation by talking about a new viral puppy video. 

The stock boy comments that he hasn’t seen it because it’s gross and the cashier insists that he watch it. As I’m leaving I catch a glimpse of the phone and see some very familiar hands dripping with gold jewelry. I have an epiphany moment and run outside to find John Goodman waiting for me. He tells me he is sorry and I tell him we have no time for that. He takes a bag and I catch him up on the situation and that I have an idea where Kevin may be. John Goodman is confused, but I tell him we have to go so we toddle away. As pro-homeless toddlers we go to a particular spot that I can only reason would be big enough for Kevin to film such videos.  We arrive at a small homeless encampment that is in an empty space behind a subway station. Since it’s daytime the makeshift beds are lined up, but most of the occupants are out. I locate a patriotic looking Montana themed duffle bag and I yell out, via narration, that that’s the kind of sack Kevin would have. I set our grocery bags down and run over to the duffle and start ripping through it, only to find diapers and the like. The owner of the bag is two kind gay men with a baby who are horrified with what I’ve done. Via narration Roseanne cracks a really inappropriate joke about how gay men should have better taste before she runs off to scan more beds. We locate a similarly patriotic white duffle bag that is the size of a sleeping bag, but is tented so that a person could get inside and have some headroom like a capsule hotel. The white bag with it’s red and blue detailing has a gold zippered lining so I tell John Goodman that this must be it. This time we carefully open the bag to find a bunch of baby puppies on one side, squirming and not even old enough to have their eyes and ears open. They are in a basket and there is a heating element next to them. On the far side of the duffle is a camera set up with some residue in the shooting area. John Goodman reaches for it only to recoil on how squishy it is. Other homeless people are curious and start gathering around and murmuring. We find out that Kevin has been earning money while on the streets by shooting scat videos with poop made by these stolen puppies. The police are called as Kevin shows up and is captured before he can get us. John Goodman and I high-five and go to gather our groceries from where we had left them at the mouth of the encampment. We say we can finally go home, but Roseanne cracks a joke about what we’d do with all this food and a laugh track rolls. 

[charlottegracetaylor]

Best Friends Forever Ch. 1

A Bellarke slow burn. I haven’t dabbled in fanfiction for about a decade, so this may be a little rough.

{Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3}  {Chapter 4} || {read on ffn} {read on ao3}

Gatorade.

Bellamy stared at the text message that interrupted his reverie. Every day during his lunch break, he hid away in his office to do some recreational reading. In a way it was cathartic. Teaching mythology to a bunch of uninterested college kids day in and day out really took a toll on him; aside from the fact that most of those students only took his class to fill their credits, he knew he didn’t have their respect. Having graduated only six months ago, his students were at most only 6 years younger than him and consequently regarded him more as a peer than as a professor. The number of young ladies knocking on his office door to ask for extra tutoring with insinuative winks and flirtatious giggles far outweighed the number of students who sought him out for real help.

Gatorade and saltines.

Gatorade and saltines and Coke.

Two more buzzes and he closed his book with a sigh. He picked his phone up and read the newest messages. A grocery list from his sister. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and snorted a silent chuckle.

I told you you’d get sick. Should’ve worn your coat like I told you. It’s JANUARY, O.

Octavia was a grown woman, but he would always be her big brother and she would always be his responsibility. Their father walked out on them when they were too young to remember, and their mother worked her ass off to give them the best life she possibly could. But when Octavia was thirteen, their mother was diagnosed with advanced ovarian cancer. Bellamy started working at the library in the evenings and on weekends; when he graduated high school five months later, he got a promotion and a full-time position. After their mother died and a social worker tried to put Octavia into foster care, Bellamy took matters into his own hands. He met with an attorney, picked up a second job, and spent an entire weekend making repairs to both the inside and the outside of their house. The judge granted him custody, and he was able to take Octavia home. He was the only male figure in her life, as their mother chose to focus all of her energy and attention on them rather than dating, and so in a way he had always had a hand in raising her.

I’M not sick, jackass. Clarke is. If you’d rather come hold her hair back while she pukes, be my guest, and I’ll run to Walgreens.

But it wasn’t just the two of them. Octavia’s best friend Clarke had become a part of their family many years ago. The two girls had been friends since they met at a skating rink when they were ten years old. Clarke’s mother had gotten hired as a surgeon at the county hospital, so she and her fiancé, Marcus, packed everything up and moved across the state to start their new lives as a family. Octavia had skated right over to Clarke, who’d been standing alone in the corner, and pulled her by her hand out onto the rink. They skated together all evening, and by the time Bellamy told Octavia to change back into her sneakers to go home, the girls had become best friends.

Over the years, Clarke and Octavia became inseparable. Playdates turned into sleepovers. Sleepovers gradually lengthened from one night, to two, to eventually a week or two at a time over summer vacation. They were together for the good, the bad, and the ugly. And by default, Bellamy was also there. The older the girls got, the closer three of them became. The day Clarke turned 18, she threw all of her belongings into the bed of her old pickup and moved into the Blake residence. She and her mother hadn’t seen eye-to-eye for years, and naturally the Blakes, her chosen family offered to take her in.

Shit. Is she okay? Is it the flu? Has she checked her temperature? I’ll get something for a fever just in case. Better safe than sorry.

Relax, big bro. I have things under control here. Clarke’s in good hands.

Octavia, just last week I heard you suggest that Jasper treat a head cold with Dulcolax.

That boy has always been full of shit.

Bellamy chuckled and slipped his phone into his pocket. Hearing students start to file into his classroom, he grabbed his lecture notes and headed out of his office for his last class of the day.

***

“Gatorade. Saltines. Coke. Gatorade. Saltines. Coke.” Bellamy mumbled Octavia’s list to himself as he walked through the store, and added a “check” into the list as he dropped each item into his basket. Halfway to the cash register, a sign by the pharmacy pronouncing that it wasn’t too late to get a flu shot reminded him that he wanted to grab something for Clarke’s potential fever.

“Too many options,” he grumbled under his breath as he stared at an entire wall of cold and flu medications. A hundred different pills, liquids, teas, powders, and creams stared back at him. Fifteen minutes of reading packages and an internal debate about trying to get Clarke’s advice later, Bellamy finally decided on a box of Tylenol Cold + Flu and some Theraflu tea. He also decided that once Clarke was better, she would be selecting a variety of over-the-counter medications to keep at the house for the next time one of them got sick. After all, she was the pre-med student.

***

“O,” he called as he gently kicked the door shut behind him. One hand hung his keys on the hook by the door while the other hand deftly dropped his laptop bag onto the floor but kept the Walgreen’s bag looped over two fingers.

“Shh!” Octavia came scurrying around the corner with a finger to her lips. “She’s asleep. Poor girl’s been sick as hell all day. She skipped class this morning.”

That rang a note of concern in Bellamy. Clarke hadn’t missed any school since the day he met her. Though if his face showed any worry, Octavia didn’t notice. She was slipping her coat on and reaching for her purse on the entry table. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah,” she said distractedly, digging through her purse to find her car keys. “Lincoln’s making me dinner, but I’ll be back after to help take care of Clarke so you can get some work done.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a half hug and told her to drive safe before she pulled the door shut behind her with a soft click. He kicked off his shoes and padded into the kitchen, grateful that his socks silenced the usual slapping sound of his feet hitting the tile floor. The bag rustled loudly in the silence of the house. He poured some of the Coke into a glass and left it sit on the counter to go flat.

***

Just over an hour later he glanced up at Clarke from his spot on the recliner, a finger holding his place in his book and his glasses perched on his nose. She was starting to stir. Her eyelids fluttered open and immediately the harsh lamplight assaulted her senses, causing her to groan and snap her eyes shut again.

“Sorry,” Bellamy whispered as he leaned over to flick off the lamp. He stood up slowly, being careful to minimize the creaking from the old recliner. His book fell between the armrest and the cushion, the page he was on completely forgotten. Walking around the coffee table, he leaned down and felt Clarke’s forehead with the back of his hand. “Definitely a fever,” he muttered. “Headache. Body aches too, I’m guessing?”

Clarke grunted in response and threw her arm over her eyes. The only light in the room came from the setting sun peeking through the blinds, but it was still too much for her tired eyes. She heard Bellamy’s soft footsteps retreating into the kitchen. Though she knew he was doing his best to keep quiet, the whisper of his jeans brushing against the kitchen floor sent an irritating pain through her ear and straight to the knot behind her eye.

“Take these,” Bellamy whispered. She peeked through one eye to see her best friend had returned. He was holding a glass of water in one hand and offering her two small yellow caplets in the other.

“Thanks,” she whispered, then tossed back the pills and chased them down with the water. She felt him lift her feet and slide down onto the end of the couch. “Miserable, Bell,” she whispered moments before sleep claimed her again.

“I know, princess,” he whispered back with a sigh. He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and threw it over them, her ankles crossed and resting in his lap. He leaned his head back and watched her sleep for a few minutes before sleep claimed him as well.

***

He woke to a kick in his stomach as Clarke wrenched herself into a sitting position. Her head was nearly between her knees as she vomited into the trash can Octavia had grabbed from the bathroom and left beside the couch. Within seconds, Bellamy had pulled her hair away from her face and started rubbing soothing circles on her back.

When the dry heaves and post-vomit body spasms subsided, Bellamy leaned back into his corner so Clarke could lay down again. “Feeling any better?”

“Headache’s gone.” Her voice was raspy, but she was glad the sensitivity to light and sound was no longer a problem. “Just wish my stomach would settle now.”

“I may be able to help with that.” He stood slowly and gently laid her feet on the couch. He crossed into the kitchen with long, purposeful strides. “Flat Coke always works,” he called over his shoulder.

Clarke sat up and took a couple deep breaths, hoping the movement wouldn’t bring on another bout of vomiting. “Old wives’ tale.”

“I’d say homeopathic remedy. Old wives’ tales typically don’t have any truth to them. Flat Coke always works.” She took the glass from his hand and made a show of taking tiny sips, before he felt the need to remind her that ‘it only works when you sip it.’

Clark snorted and rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing homeopathic about Coke, Bellamy. And anyway, flat Coke is like a placebo. It’s purely psychological.”

“Then I’ll just take that glass back and you can wait for your immune system to do the job itself.” He reached out for the glass with no real intention of taking it from her, but she swatted his hand away just the same with a murderous glare in her eyes.

“You wanna die today, Blake?”

Bellamy chuckled and leaned back into his corner of the couch. “Get over here, Griffin. We should have enough time to watch an episode of How the Universe Works before O gets home.” He stretched his arm over the back of the couch and reached for the remote on the end table while Clarke snuggled into his side. She rested her head on his shoulder and pulled the blanket over both of them.

It was one of their favorite shows, but even it was no match for Clarke’s flu. The voices coming from the TV combined with the Tylenol that was still in her system lulled her to sleep before the first commercial break. Bellamy tilted his head to the side and peered down at his best friend. He wished there was more he could do to make her feel better. He always prided himself on how well he took care of his girls, but unfortunately the flu was just one of those things he couldn’t protect them from.

Clarke twisted a little in her sleep, subconsciously moving closer to Bellamy, and Bellamy’s body automatically twisted to accommodate her without his mind even registering it. He pulled the blanket up over her shoulder and gently laid his cheek against the top of her head.

***

Octavia expected Clarke to still be asleep when she got home. She tiptoed through the entryway and peeked into the kitchen. She had expected Bellamy to be cleaning up from dinner, but she saw neither a dirty dish nor her brother. Walking past the living room to creep down the hallway and check their bedrooms, a mop of black curls on top of the couch caught the corner of her eye.

She was not surprised to see her brother and her best friend sleeping together with a forgotten docuseries droning on the TV. This was a regular occurrence in the Blake household. She wasn’t even surprised to see them cuddling under the blanket Grandma Blake had made for Bellamy’s tenth birthday.

Back in the kitchen, she scribbled staying at Lincoln’s tonight, pizza tomorrow on me xo O on a sticky note before tiptoeing back out the front door and locking it behind her.

[momtemplative]

Dog Days.

The “dog days of summer” refer to the weeks between July 3 and August 11 and are named after the Dog Star (Sirius) in the Canis Major constellation. The ancient Greeks blamed Sirius for the hot temperatures, drought, discomfort, and sickness that occurred during the summer.

Temperatures have been in the 90′s for over a week now, and they anticipate another solid two weeks of the same.

In our home, we’ve concluded that the most successful way to overcome this heat is to be soaking wet, as often and for as long as possible. We bought a cheap, blow-up, 6 x 8 feet pool in May and it has saved us nearly every day since it’s inception on our back deck. We fill it with hose water from the deepest frozen bowels of another world and erect two umbrellas so we need not wear sunblock. We can create an outdoor environment where we are shivering on a 100 degree day! That feels like power, like we’ve outsmarted yet another restriction that has been placed upon us during the pandemic. Go team!

(And yes, in spite of pools and parks now being open, we consider COVID to still be very much happening and prefer to err on the side of no crowds.)

Our sanctuaries are shrinking, but I raise my hands in praise that we still have sanctuaries at all. The vast out-of-doors (as Governor Polis likes to refer to it) is so much a hotpot of swelter by mid-morning that the kids and the dog are instantly miserable. Opal (sensibly) refuses to voluntarily subject herself to the heat. 

Nope, she says, No-can-do. I’ll get a headache.

Ruth will excitedly agree to a walk, then start complaining by three houses down, and plop down on the sidewalk, refusing to go home, petrified with indecision and frustrated with all hot things. (A few days ago, she sat on an ant colony between the sidewalk cracks—that got her up and moving right-quick!) So, I’ve stopped offering walks by the time the sun has slurped up the dew from the grass.

Step into our backyard during the meat of the day and you risk a face full of brightness like a sledgehammer. Our benevolent, Great Eastern Sun turns aggressive during these summer months, dis-regulated like a mommy bird force-feeding her young. By this point in July, only the most hardy of our plants survive. The many backyard quadrants we curated early on during quarantine—the sandbox, the ninja-course in the Russian Olive tree, the swingset and slides—are all simply too burny right now to enjoy during the thick of the day. We lack mature trees in the back, so it is a sea of steamy heat while the sun is a glaring bulb overhead.

When Ruth drops something over the railing, we all silent-scream NOOOO as if that item will be lost to the ground-is-lava recesses of the backyard until the sun sets and we can retrieve it without being bombed from above. There goes Barbie until after dinner, honey.

The shade and the sun take on a Marvel Comic strip nemesis quality. There can be only one. When a cloud moves in overhead, we comment on it until it passes, as exciting as the Goodyear Blimp.

Oooh, what a difference! Amazing! We going to get rain? I felt a breeze!

Ruth says, Is it nighttime?

No honey, just a cloud.

The gaping canvas of a hot summer day can feel stretched and pulled in all directions—more proof that time is not linear. And each of these lengthy days that we organize to the best of our ability, and with the resources we’ve got du-jour (how we slept, how the body feels, the emotional barometer of the house between young-ones...) eventually slip by as another box, then a row, on the calendar. Some are chunky with challenge and discord, others silky-smooth with ease, most are a combination of it all. 

We whittle new routines into the wood that is daytime, footholds to keep us from having to start from scratch every single morning. Right now, we are on COVID schedule 24b (roughly): the Dog Days Edition. 

Opal has her own things, especially in the morning. Ruth needs a block of full-engagement playtime early on, otherwise she is left in a state of wanting for the rest of the day, like a dolly with a talk-mechanism malfunction—PLAY WITH ME PLAY WITH ME PLAY WITH ME!!! 

Granted, she will do this anyway, (especially now, having no playdates with friends) but it’s much easier for me to draw a clear boundary once we’ve had our special together-moments. We may be on the deck early in the day for playtime, this and that, and Ruth may dabble in the pool, but we’ve gotten into the rhythm of having our official coming-together-pool-time be right after lunch and before afternoon chill time. (Shout out to Jesse who gets to join on weekends.)

As we chew our food, we all start to itch for the frigid water, our date with the polar melt that awaits just passed the sliding glass doors. 

Tiny cheap Walmart pool? No. It’s a world of wonder.

Opal loves to do running jumps into the pool, ending with a combination of grace and fumbling chaos (and, pray-god, NOT a trip to the ER). She warns Ruth, but every time, Ruth clutches her dolls as they are hit with the swells and yells Oh-PAL!!! 

We just found an old boogie board in the garage which Ruth adopted with hilarious seriousness, using the wristband and adopting a surfer’s stance as if she’s gazing into the distance at the waves. She essentially just sits on it, climbs on it, yells at it, repeats. It works as a fantastic lifeguard boat for dolls that have fallen in the water, which then turns to a pontoon-type boat that gets scooted from one end of the pool to the other. 

There is crawling and dancing (always, music) and running in circles. There is a game called Leg Swing, which is clumsy and never successful, but one of Ruth’s faves. Many of Ruth’s indoor toys have made it into the pool and are now filled with an ominous sloshing sound of water. Our patios table is a collection dismembered doll parts, an attempt to dry out the innards. 

There is the Bug Rescue Society. Last week, Ruth rescued a wee, harmless flying thing from certain death in the water, then it befriended her and refused to leave. This is a kid who screams at the sight of an ant, but this bug was special. She named him Pascal and played with him for over a half-hour, no exaggeration. She took him on tiny boat rides and let him crawl on her hands and eventually settled to rest on a towel in the sun with Pascal next to her. I was sure he was dead, but upon closer inquiry, no, he was choosing to be there. 

And lately, Opal and I (and Jesse, when he can join) have taken to doing a full-in-plunge upon entry, which is more than a pleasant shock to the system. I had a strange stomach thing last week—woozy and nauseous—and it was hijacking my mood. (And, when I’m with the kids all day, every moment, I am like a mommy mirror to two smaller mirrors and—like it or not—my mood SETS THE TONE.) I did a full plunge into the icy shallows of the pool, which consists of me sitting down then lying back in one fell swoop since the water is just deep enough for me to put my entire head under. I was utterly healed—body and mood, cleansed and hungry.

I have started taking my woes to the dipping pool—the neck-tightness, the overwhelm, the stressors and emotions of the moment, whatever is there—and the instant my body is covered in that alarmingly frigid water, all the negativities dissipate and we are all kid-screams and raucous silliness. 

Our tiny pool is a poetic reminder of what happens when you appreciate what you have right now. Last year, it may have felt pittly, pathetic. Now, it shines forth like a beacon of reprieve. 

And no matter where we were earlier that day— regardless of morning meltdowns or grudges—or where the rest of the day has to take us, for that instant as we emerge onto the blessed deck in our suits and with our drinks and towels, we are all in complete, joyous alignment.

Then, we are cold. Ruth is blue-lipped, shivering and chattering. Physical sensations, I repeat, that feel victorious in the face of these high-caliber pandemic Dog Days. 

The party moves indoors to a warm bath—an even smaller body of water!—where Opal and Ruth warm up and play, amiably or not. Either way, we are on the smooth, familiar trajectory into the rest of the afternoon. 

July 14, 2020

[breakfastatwonhos]

Monsta X as Dads

Shownu

Awkward Dad Jokes

all the kids love going to his house cuz snacks and a swirly slide inside the house??

always asked to chaperone things at the school functions 

makes funny faces to get his kids to cheer up 

SO MUCH PATIENCE

takes any opportunity to dance with his kids 

“Jackson, you can’t keep saving the fish from drowning”

Hoseok

certified helicopter dad

loves to brag on his child at any chance he can get 

follows all his kids on social media and comments on every post

“This looks so good!” 

“You’re so cute! Look at my daughter!”

sets up playdates with all the moms in the neighborhoods 

weekend trips to Grandma’s cafe

Pancakes with faces every morning for breakfast

Minhyuk

loves blanket forts and movie nights 

especially on school nights

vice president of the PTA

ALWAYS at the school doing something for his kids 

has pictures of his kids everywhere, even has a mug with their pictures on it

Leaves cute notes in their lunch boxes

“Daddy loves you” he says as he cries when they go to school 

Kihyun

President of the PTA 

disciplines with his facial expressions

lowkey/highkey threatens the people who bully his children

“he did what?? LET ME TALK TO HIS MOTHER”

does all the baking for school fundraisers

loves to gossip about other moms

“seriously who still store buys their cookies??”

Wakes the kids up at 6 am if they forget to do the dishes

Hyungwon

Actually makes children sleep at sleepovers

Brunch and Brinner are things because no one gets up before 12 on the weekends and breakfast is the easiest to make

Always late for school 

Kids are always dressed nicely 

Aesthetics

never goes to PTA meetings because hes binge watching Netflix with the fam

Loves museums because they are quiet and take minimal effort

Lowkey goofy and plays with his kids in the ball pit at Chuck E Cheese

Jooheon

Always matches with his kids

A L W A Y S

actually checks under the bed and the closet for monsters

gives them hugs and kisses whenever he can

embarrassing dad at all the school functions

secretly follows his kids when they go on dates

Dresses up for tea parties and princess play time 

Changkyun

doesnt know what discipline is

encourages free expression at all times

“Why should I stifle their creativity??”

Always brings his kids and their friends lunch 

made up their own way to say “I love you”

Has all the newest games at the house

“listen, dont tell your mom but...”

they’ve got all kinds of pets