#and he treated her(my grandma's) daughter way better than any of his own kids. so the family hated us for that too.

[unoisveimved-un-proffesional]

My gender complex goes back 3 generations and through two queer women and their family trauma, I feel like I know what I'm talking about. We know a thing or two because we've seen a thing or two.

[helloalycia]

a girl friend // rory gilmore

summary: Rory wants to come out to her grandparents, but you and Lorelai aren't so sure that's the best idea.

warning/s: mentions of homophobic parents and neglecting your kids, kind of a sad one in that sense tbh

author's note: this has been sitting in my drafts for over 2 years! so i thought i would finally post it lol, if there happens to be any rory fans out there still. god knows her character pissed me off post season 2, but that's the beauty of fanfiction, you can write her however you want! it's kinda bad compared to my recent stuff because it's 2 years old, so sorry about that 😂

also in this, just pretend you have a gender neutral name as that's the point in the start. you'll know what i mean when you read lol

masterlist / wattpad

"You guys ready for this?" Lorelai asked as we reached the infamous Gilmore residence.

I glanced at Rory, who reassured me instantly with that beautiful smile of hers. I looked back to her mother and nodded, hoping I looked calmer than I felt.

"I think so," I said, breathing out a little. "They can't be that bad, right?"

Lorelai snorted as Rory shoved her mother a little. They both smiled apologetically before Lorelai knocked on the door, neither answering my question. I didn't feel any better.

Rory and I had come out with our relationship to Lorelai a few weeks ago, to which she was completely accepting of. A little surprised about her daughter's sexuality, but accepting nonetheless. And she didn't seem to hate me which was always a good sign.

Now we were meeting the grandparents. Though, not in the way I expected. Rory wanted to come out to her grandparents as she did with Lorelai, but Lorelai knew her parents better than anyone and was convinced that wasn't a good idea. And with my own personal history of getting booted out the house and practically disowned by my own parents, I didn't want Rory getting treated the same by those she loved.

So, Lorelai figured it was better to introduce me as one of Rory's Yale pals so I could charm them first before revealing the big news. Though I wasn't sure when exactly the 'big news' would be revealed. Either way, I felt a lot of pressure tonight.

Lorelai knocked on the front door and I gulped down the lump in my throat as I waited. I felt Rory's hand slip into mine, squeezing it gently for reassurance. I glanced her way and smiled gratefully, to which she nodded. The door opened though, and her hand left mine.

"...I'll get it myself, it's not like I'm paying you or anything!" the woman, presumably Rory's grandmother, shouted behind her as she opened the door. Her posture straightened up and a smile was on her face as she looked to her family and I. "Lorelai, Rory, lovely to see you again."

"I'm sure it is, mom," Lorelai said with a forced smile, hugging her mother.

"Hey, grandma," Rory greeted with a hug.

As both Gilmores entered the house, I received a confused stare from Rory's grandma.

"Uh, hi," I said, smiling awkwardly. Lorelai said she told her I was coming...?

"Are you Y/N?" she asked, looking me up and down.

I suddenly felt self-conscious. "Yes, ma'am. Y/N Y/L/N."

"Mom, I told you last week about Rory's new Yale friend, Y/N," Lorelai explained to her mother as I stood there, smiling awkwardly.

"But Y/N is a boy's name," she said, looking to Lorelai. "I expected a boy."

Rory, who was blushing a little, said, "Grandma, Y/N can be a girl's name, too."

"But you said 'he' on the phone," she continued to Lorelai. "You gave me the impression Y/N was a boy."

I shuffled uncomfortably and Lorelai seemed to notice.

"Well, mom, you must have misheard because Y/N is a girl and waiting to come in."

Rory's grandma sighed before looking to me. "I guess so. Well, welcome, Y/N. It's nice to meet one of Rory's Yale friends. I'm Emily."

I chewed the inside of my cheek nervously, noting how this wasn't going well and I hadn't even stepped inside yet.

"Thanks, I've heard a lot about you, Emily. Rory speaks very highly of you and your husband." I offered a small smile.

Emily merely nodded and stepped aside to let me in. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief as she closed the door behind me. Rory nodded my way, as if to say 'it's okay', and I found myself stressing just a tiny bit more for whatever was to come.

"Let me take your jackets," Emily said, and the three of us gave her our jackets to hang up. "You can get settled in the living-room for drinks."

"Come on, Y/N, it's through here," Rory said, and I felt a lot more comfortable when she was by my side and we were walking into the living-room. Though, from behind me, I could hear Emily mumbling something to Lorelai.

"I thought Rory was bringing a boy to dinner, you know, like a new boyfriend," she thought she whispered, but I heard loud and clear.

"No, mom, Y/N is just a friend," Lorelai replied, before jokingly adding, "I'm sure Rory won't mind switching sides for your sake, though."

"Oh, don't be so silly, Lorelai," Emily scoffed.

Rory put her hand on my back to lead me to the sofa, and I felt her rub it slightly, with reassurance. She must have heard, too.

We both took a seat as Lorelai did so on the other chair.

"Rory's grandfather is just finishing up a business call and should be down soon. What drink would you like whilst we wait?" Emily said, already at the drinks cart.

"I'll be fine with just a wat–" I began, but stopped when Lorelai and Rory shook their heads frantically. Emily turned around and waited for me to finish. "...just a vodka martini...?"

Emily raised an eyebrow but nodded nonetheless and got to work. I breathed out as Rory squeezed my leg supportively. I wasn't really fond of alcohol, but if it meant winning over Emily Gilmore, then so be it.

"Can I get the same, mom, but with gin instead?" Lorelai asked.

"I'll have something fruity, grandma," Rory added.

It went quiet for a moment, as Emily prepared the drinks, and I sat there trying to think of things to say to Emily at dinner. The little confidence I had left dropped as soon as I walked through the door.

"So, mom, how's the club?" Lorelai made some conversation.

"Doing fine, as usual," Emily responded, sounding a little bored. Though that could have just been her normal voice, I wasn't sure.

She returned and handed out the drinks before taking a seat with her own. An awkward silence took over again and I had to keep a smile plastered on my lips every time Emily glanced my way.

"So, Y/N, what are you studying at Yale?" Emily finally spoke, vaguely interested in me.

Feeling a little relieved that this wasn't a tricky question, I relaxed and answered, "English. I'm hoping to teach it in the future."

"Straight A's this one," Lorelai added with a playful smile.

Emily wasn't amused.

"And how did you and Rory meet?" she asked, though it felt a little like an interrogation. Maybe she didn't like me because I wasn't the boyfriend she expected.

"The paper," I responded with a nod. "I thought it would be fun to join the paper and that's when I met Rory. We worked together on our first article."

"It was about the amount of garbage cans on campus, believe it or not," Rory added with a chuckle.

Emily cracked a smile at this, before saying, "That sounds... lovely. Y/N, do your parents go to the club? I don't believe I'm familiar with your surname."

At the mention of my parents, my smile faded a little and I looked down to my hands. "Um, no, they don't."

"Well, what do they do? I'd love to meet them," Emily continued, and I looked up, forcing a smile.

Rory met my eyes and I saw her watching me apologetically. She managed to rest her hand on mine without Emily seeing and I appreciated her so much at that moment.

"They aren't from around here actually," I said, looking back to Emily and grasping Rory's hand. "They are architects. But yeah, maybe next time they're in town, I could introduce you."

Emily seemed satisfied as she took a sip of her drink. I hadn't seen her so happy all evening as she said, "That would be lovely. I look forward to it."

I nodded, flashing Rory a reassuring smile so she wouldn't be worried. My parents wouldn't dare meet Emily. Or Lorelai. Or Rory for that matter. They wouldn't even see me anymore. Not since I came out to them.

"Ah, I think I hear Richard now," Emily said, standing up. "I'll go see what's keeping him."

I nodded her way, noticing she was warming up a little now, as she left the room.

"Gosh, Y/N, I'm sorry about that," Lorelai apologised instantly. "I know that must've been hard..."

I shook my head. "No apology necessary, Lorelai. It was obvious she would ask about my parents. But it's fine. Eventually I'll tell her the truth, but right now, this is okay."

Lorelai nodded, but watched me with sympathy. Rory did the same and I resisted the urge to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Girls! It's lovely to see you both again," a male voice boomed from behind us, and we all stood up. It was Rory's grandfather, Richard, followed by a smiling Emily.

"Hey, dad," Lorelai greeted, hugging him. Rory did the same and then Richard looked to me.

"You must be Y/N, Rory's Yale friend," he said with a smile. "It's nice to meet you."

He put his hand out and I shook it, saying, "You too, sir. You have a lovely home."

"Call me Richard," he insisted. "And thank you, dear.”

"Dinner is ready, so if everyone could make their way to the dining room," Emily announced.

"Come on," Rory said, tugging at my hand and leading me to the dining room. I couldn't help but smile lovingly at her excitement, though my nerves still remained because so far, the night wasn't going to plan, and I knew that there was a chance it could just keep getting worse.

Thankfully, it didn't, but it wasn't a knock out either. Rory's grandparents were polite, making chatter about Rory and Yale and our degrees, and Emily eventually got over the fact that I was in fact a girl and not a boyfriend she could meet. Unfortunately for me, she did talk about boys and if I was seeing anyone, and I had to somehow tell her that I was solely focusing on my studies and couldn't in fact introduce Rory to any potential bachelors. It wasn't a fun conversation, but it moved on quite quickly.

After a pleasant-ish evening, the night came to an end and I was glad when we said our goodbyes.

"You handled that like a pro, kid," Lorelai complimented once we were by her car. She slapped me on the back gently, adding, "Even I couldn't put up with her talking about the club for that long."

I let out a shaky breath. "Thanks. She was as tough as you said she'd be."

Rory laced her fingers between mine, squeezing gently and flashing me a reassuring smile. "You did good. Thank you for coming tonight."

"Thanks for having me," I said with a small smile.

It was a tough night in more ways than one, but it was all worth it if there was even a slight chance that Rory could be comfortable amongst her family.

————————

"Rory."

She hummed as she continued typing away at her laptop, but didn't look away from the screen.

"Rory."

"One second..."

"Rory."

She didn't respond, so I sighed dramatically and rolled over, so I was under her arms. We were both sat outside, laying down on our stomachs, her writing an article and myself reading a book. I was getting kind of bored though and wanted some attention.

I looked up at her chin, hoping the discomfort of me being below her would get her attention, but still, she barely mumbled a response as she continued typing away.

I sighed again and slipped out from underneath her, before laying directly on top of her back and hugging her tightly. She let out a little chuckle and finally looked over her shoulder.

"You okay back there?" she asked teasingly, to which I hummed in response.

"I'm bored," I said, not moving from my spot. "Love me."

There was a pause before suddenly she had turned us both around so she was laying on the grass and I was on top of her. She smiled from below me, her blue eyes sparkling in the sun.

"I always do," she said, before pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

I smiled down at her, admiring how beautiful she looked, before sitting up and pulling her up with me. She leaned against the tree and motioned for me to sit before her. I crawled over and she held me from behind, resting her chin on my shoulder. I relaxed into her embrace, sighing contently.

"A quick break never hurt anyone," she spoke, adding, "and I'll never get anything done if you keep bugging me, so..."

"You love it." I laughed, craning my neck to kiss her cheek.

She smiled against my shoulder. "I know."

A peaceful silence enveloped us as we looked out onto the Yale campus. Students were milling about between classes, lecturers were strolling by without a care in the world, even some parents were about, probably to check in on their beloved children. Which reminded me...

"Your mom knows about us," I said and felt Rory nod.

"She does. Remember? We went over together and told her?"

I pursed my lips and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I know. What I meant to say is, that's really cool of her, you know?"

I still wasn't over it, even though it had been a month or so since we told her.

"She's a cool mom," Rory replied, and I could tell by her voice that she was mildly confused.

"Yeah, she is," I agreed, especially because it wasn't easy knowing whether or not your girlfriend's parents would accept the fact that their daughter was bisexual.

"I'm glad you brought that up actually," Rory started, sounding serious all of a sudden, "because something has been on my mind since we told my mom."

I swivelled around so I was facing Rory to give her my full attention. I nodded to show I was listening.

Rory appeared nervous as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and avoided my eyes. "I think I wanna tell my grandparents. About us."

I bit my lip as I tried to suppress a frown. We'd already been through this.

"You sure about that? Lorelai said we should wait and–"

"But we've already waited!" she said with exasperation, before sighing. "I'm sorry, it's just, we did it how my mom said to. Introduce you as a friend and let her warm up to you. That dinner was a few weeks ago, Y/N. What's changed?"

I took her hand and stroked it gently. "Rory, I know, but if Lorelai thinks they need time, maybe they do. She does know them best after all."

Rory nodded and her eyes flickered to our hands. "I know... I just hate lying to grandma."

I smiled sadly. I hated that she had to lie, too. But I also didn't want her to ruin this one chance she had to tell her grandma and possibly lose her. I knew firsthand how that felt and I would never wish it upon Rory.

"It'll be okay," I reassured her, pulling her in for a side hug and kissing her on the forehead. "Time is what's best right now. Your grandparents love you and I'm sure they'll be fine with this."

I felt Rory nod her head on my shoulder and took this as the end of the conversation. I worried for her though. Would her grandma be okay with us?

————————

I was searching through Rory's drawer for some batteries for the TV remote when finally I came across some lying on her desk. I shook my head at how obvious they were and how I hadn't noticed, then replaced them in the remote.

"Rory, I found them!" I called, waving the TV remote in the air and heading to the living-room. But I stopped when I saw Rory shaking a little, tears coming from her eyes.

"Oh my god, Rory, what's wrong?" I asked, rushing over to her side on the couch.

She smiled through her tears, wiping away at them and shaking her head. "Nothing, nothing. Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."

"Rory," I began, rubbing her arm and grabbing a hand that was wiping her cheeks. "Come on. Don't hide your feelings."

She sniffled and looked down hopelessly. "I don't wanna make a big deal over this," she admitted, her voice shaky and hoarse.

I held her cheek and lifted her head so her glassy eyes met mine. "You can tell me anything," I told her knowingly.

She licked her lips and took a deep breath. "Okay... well... my grandma, she– she found out about us."

My eyes widened. "What?"

Rory frowned, more tears rolling down her cheeks. "She found out a few weeks ago. Apparently someone's parents at Yale saw us and word got out to grandma. My mom told me grandma knew and doesn't want to speak to me."

I frowned, my heart sinking. "Rory, no..."

"I– I thought–" she swallowed the lump in her throat, "I thought if I gave her time, she would finally speak to me. But she hasn't. She just keeps ignoring me. I've tried calling, texting, even emailing! But she won't reply. Y/N, she doesn't– she doesn't lo–"

"Don't say it, Rory," I cut her off, wiping away at her tears. "She does love you. She's just confused, probably.”

Rory's lip trembled as she looked down. "Why? I don't understand. I'm still me."

I pulled her in for a hug and kissed her cheek. "You are. She just doesn't see that yet... I'm so sorry for this, Rory. I didn't think she'd find out so soon. You should have told me this sooner."

Rory squeezed my hand. "I'm sorry, I know. I just didn't want to upset you..."

I forced a small smile. "I'm a big girl. I can handle it."

Rory smiled too and her eyes flickered to my lips. Before I knew it, she had leaned forward and kissed me gently, lovingly. 

"I'm sorry for worrying you," she said when pulling away. "I just can't deal with grandma ignoring me like this. I miss her."

Rory pulled her legs up on the couch and cuddled into my side. I held her close, letting her know I was there, and wondered what I could do to help. I hated that her grandmother was acting like this. I couldn't watch Rory go through what I had. Maybe I could speak to Emily somehow, get her to change her mind...

————————

I chewed on my lower lip as I waited for someone to answer the door. I was stood outside the Gilmore residence – Emily and Richard's – hoping I could talk to Emily for Rory's sake. Rory didn't know I was here and I honestly just hoped I didn't make things worse...

Finally, the door opened and revealed a maid. She was different to the one who served at dinner last time I was here. I recalled Rory saying how Emily went through maids quickly, though.

I shook my head, realising I was distracting myself, and smiled at the maid.

"Hi, I'm here to see Emily Gilmore," I said politely, ignoring the knot of nerves in my stomach.

The maid nodded. "Your name?"

I couldn't say my name because I knew Emily would slam the door in my face instantly. Or, well, she'd get her maid to.

"Oh, she'll know when she sees me," I said, forcing a smile. "Tell her it's a surprise."

The maid shrugged and disappeared for a moment. I didn't hear much, apart from Emily complaining about how surprises weren't respectful or mature. Her complaints neared the door until finally, she was stood before me.

"Hey, Mrs Gilmore," I greeted with a small smile.

Her gaze narrowed before she said, "Rita, you're not to let this girl in my house. Understood?"

The maid, Rita, nodded frantically as Emily backed up, but before Rita could shut the door on me, I jumped through the gap.

"Emily, please, just hear me out," I begged the older Gilmore as she glared in my direction.

"You can't just break into people's houses like this!" she exclaimed before clenching her jaw. "Leave this instant, Y/N."

She turned on her heel and marched away, but I only ignored the maid and followed behind her.

"I need to talk to you about Rory," I began quickly.

"Don't say another word!" Emily interrupted me instantly, turning around and making me stop at her abrupt halt. "I don't want to hear whatever you have to say. Or whatever she's made you say. I want you gone."

"Rory didn't send me here," I got out before she could say anything else. "I came to ask you to forgive her. Speak to her."

Emily narrowed her eyes again. "You don't come into my house and tell me what to do."

"Emily, she loves and misses you so much," I said, hoping her attention would stay on me. "This isn't her fault. She's still the same Rory, whether she likes girls or not. I–"

Emily groaned aloud before marching away again. I rolled my eyes and began to follow closely behind.

"You have no right to be here!" she shouted, making her way into the empty kitchen.

I ran a step after her and stopped before her, making her listen to me.

"You are the only family Rory has aside from her mom," I rambled out quickly. "She looks up to you, Emily. And you can't shut her out because she's bisexual. My parents, they... they kicked me out because I'm gay. They don't want to know who I am anymore. I only go to Yale because of a scholarship, but I still have to work 2 jobs just to stay there. I have no family anymore. I only have Rory. And the last thing I wanted was for her to lose her family like I did."

I hid my hands behind my back before Emily could see them shaking. I needed her to see my confidence. I had one chance.

Emily avoided my eyes, but I could tell I'd made her think.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you and your family, Y/N," she started, and I was hopeful for a split second, until she said, "but you don't get to dictate what happens in my family. This is between Rory and I, nobody else. Not even Lorelai. Now you need to leave before I call the police on you."

My heart sank to my stomach as she turned around and began to walk away.

"If I break up with her, will you speak to her again?" I asked, swallowing the lump that was beginning to form in my throat.

Emily paused and I stopped breathing for that moment.

"You know where the door is, Y/N," was all she said, before leaving the kitchen.

I took that as a yes and sighed shakily. It wasn't difficult to see what I needed to do now. I couldn't let Rory lose her family because of me.

————————

"Rory, it's important and I need to see you in person," I said into the phone, "where are you?"

Rory sighed over the phone. "I'm in Stars Hollow. I... I felt a bit down because of everything happening with grandma and I just needed a break with my mom."

I breathed out quietly. Of course.

"Okay, erm, can I come over?"

"Of course," she said, almost sounding a little relieved. "I miss you."

I smiled sadly. "I miss you, too, Rory. I'll see you in a bit."

The drive to Stars Hollow wasn't exactly the easiest thing I'd done in a while. Rory was hurting already and I was just going to make things worse. For now anyway. Eventually, they'd get better.

When I arrived at Lorelai's, I saw her mom was home, too. Great. Now she's gonna hate me, too.

I didn't even need to knock on the door because Rory had already opened it and pulled me inside.

"I'm glad you're here," she said, though it was slightly muffled because she was hugging me very tightly, her head tucked into my shoulder.

I returned the hug and savoured it, not knowing whether it would be my last. "How are you doing?"

She pulled away and smiled a little. "Better now."

My stomach was twisting with guilt as she dragged me to the living-room.

"Where's Lorelai?" I asked as we got comfortable on the couch.

Rory pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them as she said, "I kinda pushed her upstairs when you arrived."

I chuckled quietly. "Wow. I'm sure she loved that."

Rory chuckled, too. "Yeah, well she's been with me all day, so I think she's glad for the alone time."

My smile faded and I looked down as I was reminded why I was here.

"So, what was so important?" she asked curiously.

I blinked and tried to think back to what I practiced in the car. "Erm, well, okay... you know about my parents."

She seemed confused. "Yeah."

I avoided her eyes as I spoke, unable to meet them without feeling immensely guilty. "They've shut me out and well, I have nobody else."

"You have me," she cut in with concern, leaning forward to grab my hand and rub it with her thumb. "You know that."

I frowned. This was too difficult and getting harder the longer she stared at me with those big blue eyes of hers.

"Rory, I don't want you to have to choose between your grandparents and me when it comes to it," I came right out with it, letting go of her hand. "I can't let you go through that. Not because of me."

She frowned and shook her head. "Y/N... what are you talking about?"

I took a deep breath, trying to stop myself from tearing up, but it was too late. My vision was blurring.

"You love your grandma and she loves you," I explained. "I'm nobody. The nobody that is getting in between that. I don't want to watch you lose your family like I have. You don't deserve that. And I don't want you to have to make the choice between me or them when it comes to it. So, I'm taking the choice out of your hands."

Rory was clenching her jaw and staring back at me with watery, darkening eyes.

"I'm breaking up with you," I said, hating that my voice broke. "We're... we're over."

She didn't respond at first, her eyes were just piercing through mine emotionlessly. For a second, I thought she might have not heard me, but that was impossible.

Eventually, she shook her head. "No. You're not doing this. You don't get to do this."

I blinked and my tears finally escaped, making me suck up a deep breath. "Rory, I'm sorry."

She smiled sarcastically through her tears and I knew a rant was coming. "You're not leaving! You're not. You're just not. You can't just make my decisions for me, Y/N."

I breathed out and stood up, about to speak, but she stood up, too and glared at me.

"Why are you doing this?! You're doing what she is doing! Shutting me out!"

"Rory, please," I begged, holding her to hopefully calm her down, but she shoved me away.

"Don't 'Rory, please' me!" she mocked. "You're being so selfish right now! You know I love you and– and– I can't believe you!"

She crossed her arms and tried to contain her cries, but I could see it was getting too much for her.

"I know you hate me, but–"

"Get out."

"Okay, but I'm sorry, Ro–"

"I said get out!" she shouted, pointing to the front door. "You wanted to leave, so leave!

"Rory, I'm so sorry," I apologised, guilt eating away at me as I saw her face covered in tears. "Please understand, this is for the best."

"Get out!" she screamed, shoving me back. "Now! I don't want to see you!"

I backed up, turning around to leave, when I saw Lorelai stood at the bottom of the staircase. She looked between me and Rory, momentarily shocked.

"I'm sorry, I had to," I whispered to her, before walking to the front door.

I opened it to leave and felt my heart shatter into a million pieces when I heard Rory sobbing.

"She left, mom," she cried as I was shutting the door. "She gave up."

I closed the door and stopped for a moment, trying to wipe away my tears, but they just kept coming.

I wished at that moment, that I had my own mother to hold me and tell me it was going to be okay.

————————

Rory hasn't spoken to me since I broke up with her a week ago. I didn't expect her too, I guess, I'd broken her heart. But I missed her like crazy.

I hadn't seen her around campus, though she could have just been avoiding me. It felt strange without her there. I loved her and she was suddenly gone. It wasn't right.

Except it had to be done. I hoped her grandparents were speaking to her again. I really wished that this wasn't all for nothing. Because if Emily still wanted nothing to do with Rory, then I had just abandoned the girl I loved when she needed me the most.

I was trying to focus on some English homework I had when there was a knock on my door. I was kinda glad for the interruption because my mind was in shambles and I couldn't think without the Gilmore girl roaming my mind.

I opened the door and almost choked on my own spit when I saw who it was.

"Rory? What are you do–"

She cut me off by moving forward and pressing her lips against mine. I was surprised, as I expected her to hate me, threaten to set my flat on fire, or come yell at me some more, but here she was, kissing me.

I closed my eyes and kissed back, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her close. I had missed her so much, even if it had only been a week, and I wished I could have stayed like that forever. But she came for a reason and we both needed air.

She pulled away breathlessly and had tears slipping from her eyes, but a giant grin was on her lips.

"I love you," she spoke, resting her hand on my cheek and meeting my eyes. Not an ounce of hatred lay in her eyes, just love.

"Rory...," I began, but didn't know what to say.

She dragged me into my flat, shutting the door behind us, and pulled me into a hug.

"You fixed it," she said, not helping with my confusion. "My grandma is speaking to me again."

I smiled, feeling relieved. "Rory, oh my god, that's amazing!"

"I know," she said, intertwining her fingers in mine and holding them there. "It's because of you. She said you spoke to her. I can't believe you did that."

I felt my cheeks growing warm as she laughed, a bright, contagious laugh that I couldn't imagine hearing again until now.

"She didn't stop speaking to me because I'm bisexual, or because of you," she explained further. "She was upset at me for hiding this from her. And not trusting her to love me for who I am. She hated that she found out through other people. She thought I didn't trust her the way she trusted me."

I bit my lip to contain my happiness for her. "That's amazing. I'm so happy for you, Rory."

"You told her about your parents," she said, with disbelief. "You did that and she realised what she was doing to me. We talked it through today and made up. She doesn't care who I'm with, Y/N."

I smiled when she took a step closer to me, trying to contain my tears of joy.

"I'm so sorry for hurting you," I said, not tearing my eyes from hers. "I truly thought that was the only way. I didn't want you to go through what I did."

She used her hand to wipe away a stray tear of mine. "I know. And it's okay. I'm sorry for what I said to you, how I reacted. You were hurting, too. I just didn't see that."

"It's okay," I forgave her instantly, knowing none of us meant what happened. "...I missed you so much, Rory. I– I thought I'd never be with you again."

"Same here," she said, before chuckling to lighten the mood. "But I'm here. And you're here. And I love you so much."

"And I love you," I said, unable to contain my happiness. "Can I call you my girlfriend again?"

Her eyes flickered to my lips. "You technically never stopped, so..."

I laughed and moved forward to kiss her, hoping she knew how much I loved her and how I would do anything for her to be happy.

[peachtree-dish]

A Te Che Sei Il Mío Grande Amore

Chapter 3: Senza che tu mi dica niente tutto si fa chiaro

Luglio 01, 1969

Luca’s birthday rolled around faster than anyone expected, the day arriving with clear skies and high temperatures. Luca awoke to his mother’s voice echoing through their home as she prepared breakfast. Stretching, the fifteen-year-old shook his nonna as gently as he could to wake her. She grumbled at his attempts and swatted at his claws.

“Nonna,” he sighed, shrugging with a smile and swimming into the kitchen to greet his parents. During his time in Porto Rosso, Luca enjoyed every moment he could swimming and spending as much time in the water since he couldn’t do as much in Genoa. He, along with Giulia and Signora Mia, had snuck to the shoreline in the early hours of the morning every few weeks or so just so Luca could refresh his scales and get the nutrients he needed. It was especially necessary when the temperature had become too cold and made him lethargic and ill. Luca shook his head softly, sending bubbles rippling above him in search of the surface. Signora Mia had been just as kind as Massimo, and just as headstrong in a lot of ways. He made a silent promise to call her with Giulia to make sure she was doing well, even if he were sure nothing could fell the infamous Mia Berni.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Daniella kissed Luca’s cheek and handed him a plate full of seaweed and fish flank on his way to the table. Returning the sentiment, the youth sat beside his father and informed his parents that grandma had decided to sleep in a little longer.

“Ugh, she does this every time. MA!” Daniella shouted in frustration, only to be startled by her own mother swimming around the corner.

“You’re being dramatic, dear. I only do it when I think it will annoy you.” The elderly sea monster smiled toothily at her disgruntled daughter who muttered, “Which is every day,” and finished setting the table.

“So, how does it feel to be another year older, son?” Lorenzo floated a piece of fish to his mouth and chewed animatedly, his gaze never leaving Luca’s. Luca shrugged in response and picked at the seafood drifting across the coral table.

“Not any different than last year, honestly. I still feel like I’m fourteen, so nothing special.” He slurped the seaweed into his mouth, much to his mother’s chagrin, and instantly missed the taste of pasta.

“Fifteen is a pretty big deal, though, you’re becoming a young man and that means changes and more responsibility.”

“I hardly think now is the time to discuss any of that at the table.” Luca’s grandmother scoffed before he could reply.

“What, it’s just the basics; Longer tail and fins, not to mention attracting the pretty lady gills, eh?” Lorenzo nudged Luca in the side who nearly choked on his food and spluttered white bubbles over the table, his scales flushing darkly.

“Lorenzo!” Danielle cried, her claws slapping the table in mortification.

“What? We were around his age when we met. If I remember correctly, you thought I was quite the catch.” He batted his eyes at her, pursing his lips teasingly.

“I was young and silly; I didn’t know any better.” Try as she might, Daniella couldn’t stop the smile that threatened to break her scowl. She busied herself by shredding the fish flank and wrapping it in seaweed. Undeterred, Lorenzo lifted from his chair and leaned in closer, trying to further fluster his wife.

“Yeah, maybe, but you still accepted my courting pearl after the Spring Swim Festival.” Lorenzo pulled a reluctant Daniella out of her chair and began to lead her around the room in spins and pivots, grinning madly as she shrieked with laughter. Luca watched with a mixture of amusement and confusion, his discomfort fading as he pushed the idea of ‘lady gills’ far from his mind. When he peered at his grandma, she appeared nonplussed and continued munching on her food although a genuine smile lifted her aging scales.

“You were skinnier and more handsome then, of course, she fell for you.” Lorenzo pouted at his mother-in-law and led both he and Daniella back to the table.

“I simply grew into my man body,” He emphasized his point by sticking his gut out even farther and patted it proudly. The table burst into laughter and Luca quickly finished eating after, his stomach nearly as full as his heart.

After he finished, he turned to his mother and asked, “Is it ok if I go visit Alberto and Giulia for the afternoon?”

Daniella conceded with a content nod, “Just don’t forget about our dinner tonight at Massimo’s, we don’t want you kids to be late.” Luca agreed cheerfully and kissed each family member on the cheek before swimming out the entrance.

“Hey!” Luca turned mid swim to see Daniella at the entrance. “I love you.”

“I love you too, ma!” Grinning, Luca took off, the water gliding past him as he made his way to the surface and his friends. As he leaped through the blue waves, he imagined he was like the superhero from the newspaper comics that Giulia and Mia both read. Pointing both fists forwards, Luca broke the surface with a whoop, water streaming behind him like a cape.

When he arrived at the Marcovaldo residence, the only beings there to greet them were Machiavelli and a few of his kits, each of whom wanted his attention and brief affection. Finding some of his spare clothes in the drawers of Alberto and Giulia's shared room, Luca quickly left the house and wandered the streets, eager to find his friends. Judging from the sun, he knew the morning fishing trip had come to an end not too long before which should mean Giulia, and Alberto was out delivering. Walking through the town square, Luca waved to a few of the patrons he recognized, mentally wincing as he remembered his first attempts at greeting Porto Rosso’s patrons. If anyone had been the stupidi, it had been them.

Chuckling as he went up the city’s hill, Luca caught sight of two familiar heads of curls along with two faces he was not expecting. Tensing at the sight of Guido and Ciccio, Luca prepared himself for a fight and made to run the rest of the way before he heard laughter. Guido was laughing at something Alberto had said and lightly touched his shoulder. Somehow, the movement was worse than if he had punched Alberto instead. A dark and ugly feeling reared its head within Luca’s belly, causing his face to burn and his hands to clench. Clenching his teeth, the young sea monster marched up the cobblestone pathways, intent on not showing his discomfort.

“Ciao,” he muttered shortly, arriving beside Alberto, and instantly causing Guido to lift his hand from Alberto’s shoulder. Giulia nodded hello from her seat on the bike as Alberto wrapped an arm around Luca’s shoulder.

“Oh, hey Luca,” Alberto cheered even more so upon seeing Luca. “You remember Guido and Ciccio, vero? I helped their families in the off-season while you were away.” Luca looked at the two teens who stood abashedly in front of him and offered his hand after a moment of hesitation.

“It’s good to see you both again,” Not, he thought as he shook the brunette’s hand. Ciccio spoke up, his round features coloring.

“We realize we never officially apologized to you before you left, si? We’re really sorry about last summer, Luca.”

“Si, Ciccio, and I were very foolish and ignoranti, we hope you can forgive us, and we can start again.” Guido smiled warmly, his gaze sincere. Taking a deep breath, Luca felt his earlier feeling of… whatever it was, fading away. If Alberto and Giulia both felt they could trust these boys again, then he could follow their lead.

“Lo apprezzo. I know being around Ercole wasn’t the easiest either, it’s all water under the bridge now anyway.” He smiled genuinely this time, heartened when the two ex-henchmen immediately relaxed.

“Bah, no lie, I’m so happy to be rid of that jerk,” Guido nodded at Ciccio who nodded and twisted his hands anxiously.

“He ate so much of my family’s bread,” Ciccio whispered horrified, his gaze wide. Giulia shared a weirded-out expression with Alberto who only shook his head.

“I didn’t know your family baked,” Luca interceded, ignoring his friends’ lack of subtlety Snapping back to the present, Ciccio grinned widely showing his perfectly white teeth.

“Oh, si, Pasticcini al sale Marino is the pride and joy of Porto Rosso and my family. Our baked goods bring customers from miles around; you should see the line of people who want to buy my mother’s Sfogliatella.” He leaned in conspiratorially to whisper, “My siblings and I have been helping since we were little, so only we know the recipe.” He puffed his round chest out proudly, only to be poked by both Alberto and Guido.

“Knowing a recipe and following it correctly are two different things, Ciccio. Your batter was not very good the last time you tried to make Bombolini.” Guido teased and Alberto nodded knowingly.

“I still don’t know how you mixed up salt and sugar,” the older sea monster screwed his face in disgust, remembering how the supposedly sweet treats and mistakenly been made with copious amounts of salt. “Seriously, Ciccio, even the ocean’s not as salty as those things were.” Ciccio pouted good-naturedly as the group laughed.

“It’s still not as bad as the time Guido set the auto garage on fire,” the blond argued mildly to which said boy grimaced.

“I thought we agreed to never speak of that again; I thought my papa was going to skin me alive.”

The teens chatted a bit more and Luca began to warm up to the two boys who had hurt him so much the past year. Perhaps, he reasoned, they had been good all along and had simply needed the chance to prove themselves.

Bidding Guido and Ciccio farewell, Luca joined Alberto and Giulia as they made the rounds. Luca asked a question that had been on his mind since arriving in Porto Rosso.

“So, whatever happened to Ercole? I haven’t seen him since we’ve been in town.” Alberto placed the cash from his previous sale into the leather pouch of the cart before answering.

“Honestly, the guy kind of disappeared after the race. I think he was embarrassed enough to keep his head low for a while, but other than that, I’m not sure. Maybe he left?” Giulia thought for a moment, her gaze focused on the road ahead.

“Maybe, I don’t think he went away to university, but he could have. His family is really wealthy, so they could afford it no matter the grades he got.”

Luca kicked a pebble, his thoughts skipping back to that one word: university.

“What’s the point of grades anyway, doesn’t that, like, stress you out more?” Alberto mused.

“It certainly does for me,” Giulia huffed. She bid Buongiorno to a young mother who bought the last of their fish and both Luca and Alberto filled the empty space as they headed back down the hill.

“I think it’s mostly competition, to see who really wants to be an academico or no,” she contemplated. “Sometimes if you have really good grades, the universities will pay you to study in their schools. That happened to mama when she moved to Genoa.” Alberto winced slightly at the mention of Giulia’s mother, the story of her separation from Massimo fresh in his memory.

“I wonder if I was good enough, they’d do that for me?” Luca hummed, his eyes following the drains that spread across each building they passed.

“Well, duh, they’d be stupid not to; you’re better than good enough right now,” Alberto bumped his shoulder with a smile. Luca blushed and tossed his friend a grin.

“Hey, happy birthday by the way. It’s about time you got to my age,” the older boy winked and wrapped his arm around Luca again, causing Luca’s skin to hum with energy.

“Oh, yeah! Are you excited for tonight?” Giulia asked over her shoulder.

“Thanks, you guys, really,” Luca felt warmer with Alberto’s arm around him, and he was sure it had nothing to do with the afternoon sun. He wondered briefly if said boy could feel how hard his heart was pounding. “Should I be excited, I thought we were just having dinner?” Luca asked, brow furrowing in confusion. He twisted around to face Giulia as she pulled into the plaza and made her way towards the small coastal home. Alberto lifted his arm when Luca turned away, causing him to feel its loss.

Giulia glanced at him and grinned excitedly. “Papa saved some fireworks from the Festa Della Repubblica since we were in Genoa, and he wants to set them off for tonight.” Luca gasped and jumped in his seat.

“Santa mozzarella! Are you serious?!” He shared an animated glance with Alberto who smiled as he hopped off the cart.

“Of course! I mentioned to him how much you had enjoyed the fireworks during Vigilia di Capodanno last December. He decided that would be his gift to you this year.” Giulia locked the bike and carried their bag of earnings inside, the two boys following after her.

Inside they found Massimo at his stove, his presence filling up the majority of the room. He turned to greet them as they entered, placing a kiss upon Giulia’s curly head.

“Buon cumpleanno, Luca. May you live to see many more,” Massimo rumbled fondly, patting Luca on his checkered shoulder. Luca returned the sentiment and wrapped a short hug around the large man, his arms too small to wrap fully around him.

“Grazie, Massimo. For your wishes and for your surprise gift,” Luca pulled away while Massimo smiled happily, his eyes disappearing behind his bushy eyebrows.

“Giulia,” Massimo chided lightly, turning to his daughter who was counting out money, “I thought we agreed to keep it a secret until after dinner?” Giulia smiled apologetically.

“Scusa, papa, we were just too excited,” She and Alberto began counting the coins on the table while Massimo ushered Luca over to the stove.

“Come, Luca, you will help me prepare dinner,” Massimo handed him a bag of clams and ordered him to wash them thoroughly in the sink. Luca would be the first to admit he was not a cook, but Massimo was gentle in his orders and easily guided Luca in making a perfect pasta dinner.

Once the Paguro family arrived along with Ciccio and Guido, once again to Luca’s surprise, the night was filled with much laughter and filling food. The linguine pasta alle vongole was instantly a hit and paired nicely with the red wine Ciccio had brought on behalf of his family. To the teens’ disappointment, the adults were adamant that they were still too young for alcohol. At one moment, Lorenzo laughed so hard, he inhaled his pasta and sent part of it into his nose much to the delight of the children. After dinner, the group trouped outside with fireworks and dessert in hand. While Massimo and Lorenzo set up the fireworks near the edge of the waterline, Daniella, Giulia, and Ciccio helped serve gelato and watermelon.

With a happy sigh, Alberto nestled himself into the sand alongside Luca, happily chewing on the red-fleshed fruit. Luca’s eyelids were drooping as his body felt full and warm, accompanied by his own friend’s radiating heat. His gaze lingered as Alberto licked gelato from his lips, the cream dripping from the corner of his mouth. Forcing his eyes to look anywhere else, Luca shifted closer to Alberto. Instead, his gaze landed on his father asking animatedly about the fireworks in Massimo’s hand, the larger man looking both confused and entertained by Lorenzo’s energy.

“I know I already said it, but happy birthday,” Luca dragged his eyes back to the tanned boy next to him and smiled. He jumped slightly at the first explosion, watching in delight as the light of the fireworks made his friend’s skin glisten with multicolored hues.

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” He replied easily. Neither made comment as their arms brushed or as their hands splayed out behind them with barely any space between. Up above the merry group, bright color after bright color bloomed across a starlit sky, the stars twinkling their own delight.

[emma-nation]

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU)

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: This is my first RES fic, so I'm sorry if I mess it up a bit. English is also not my main language, so a mistake or two may happen. I hope you enjoy it :)

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Eastern Europe - July, 2009

"If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?"

Mother closed the book, placing it on the bedside table between Auryk's bed and mine. Then, she lowered herself and kissed my forehead like she did every night. Her long, blonde hair tickled my face and left a trace of her sweet lavender fragrance in the air. I giggled.

"Good night, sweetheart," she spoke.

"Good night, momma."

"Cherish your last night as a six years old. Tomorrow you will become a..."

"Princess?!"

"A seven years old girl. The prettiest girl in the village."

"Pffft," Auryk let out a displeased grunt from his bed, covering his head with the pillow to avoid listening another word from the conversation.

"And you too," mother sat by his side on the bed and repeated her nightly ritual of kissing his forehead to wish him a good night too. "You'll become the most handsome and brave warrior in this village. Do you understand?"

"I hope so. Good night, mom."

"Good night, buddy."

Mother left the room, leaving us both in the dark. However, we couldn't sleep. Not because we were thrilled about our incoming birthday party as any regular child, but because we knew our lives were about to change. Seven years old was the age every child from our village was introduced to the truth and started being trained to fight the evil that haunted our lands. Auryk and I spent minutes, or maybe hours, in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Leena?" He was the first one to speak. "Do you believe a spell can broken? I mean, like a curse?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I answered, feeling my thoughts starting to drift away. "Maybe we're doomed after all. Or... we could learn how to love the beasts."

The birthday parties always happened during the daytime, rules of the village. We could no longer be outside after 6 PM. Mother got help from the other women to prepare the treats and organize the decorations. Auryk was disguised as a pirate and I... I was Belle, from the Beauty and the Beast.

"So, what do you think you will be getting this year?" My best friend Elena asked while we were playing with our dolls. She was about two years older than us.

"I don't know," I shrugged. Being a merchant, my father always returned home with the most unusual gifts: a magical music box, a voodoo doll that had a life on its own or a fragrance that chased away the monsters - and everybody else too. "A new book. I'm hoping for a new book."

It was only by the end of the party Adrian Novak made his entrance. That was the mystery about him. Nobody knew when he would show up, or if he would show up at all. He still had that same annoying smirk on his face. The corner of his mouth holding a cigarette. The months away made his beard grow longer, as well as his dark hair. In the sunlight, the scar above his eye was even more visible.

"Auryk," he shouted, "come here, son. I've got something for ya."

My twin brother, who had been climbing trees with his friends stop frozen in spot for a second. I couldn't tell if he hated or feared that man. Maybe both. He slowly followed father's command, approaching him cautiously.

"Hi, dad."

"Happy birthday, son," father ruffled his dark straight hair with his strong and calloused hand. "It's about time you grow up."

He handed my brother a large package. From our experience, we knew exactly what it was, a shotgun.

"T-Thank you, dad."

"I'll be spending some time at home. Tomorrow we'll start practicing."

Auryk consented. He shot me a quick glance. From our twin bond I could tell my brother was far from happy. When he blew his candles that afternoon, he didn't wish for a weapon. We wished to be a normal child.

"What did you get, Leena?" He asked once we were locked in the safety of our bedroom.

"Pencils and a drawing book. Dad thinks I'm talented."

Not really. Adrian Novak would never allow his daughter to hold a shotgun. That was, according to him, 'a man thing'.

"Good, at least one of us got what they wanted. Happy birthday, sister."

"Happy birthday, brother."

4 Years Later - October, 2013

It wasn't easy to be the weakest of the twins. Although he was born first, Auryk was the tinniest. The one who was always getting sick or getting injured. The one who couldn't hit a single fucking target when he had the alcoholic breath of his father on his neck.

He aimed for a crow, sitting still on a fence. How hard could it be? Even the eldest man from the village could do any better than that.

BANG! He shot again. And missed.

"Again?!" Adrian angered, shoving him hard on the shoulder. "What the hell is your problem, kid?"

"I don't know, okay? This gun... it's heavy!"

"Heavy? And why do you think we've been exercising for all these years, huh?! We do not live in Disneyland, Auryk. We need to fight monsters, abominations. Someday I won't be home and you need to be prepared to protect our people. Do you understand?"

Tears started forming in the corners of the boy's blue eyes. He couldn't cry. Not in front of him. Crying was a sign of weakness and he couldn't be weak. Not right now. Auryk started to think about all the things he could be doing. He thought about the ocean, as he had seen on TV and books. He could feel the warmness of the sun on his skin. The sand between his toes. His mom and sister were also there, of course - they'd carry them with him everywhere. And he would study Math and Physics. There would be no guns, no monsters, no blood, only numbers, only formulas, only theories. He smiled. He no longer felt like crying.

"I'm sorry, dad," kindness was always the answer, his mother said. "But this isn't for me, you know? I don't like it. I... Remember that boarding school my teacher mentioned? I thought maybe I..."

His words were interrupted by a hard slap on his face. Auryk could taste a small amount of blood coming out from his lower lip.

"So that's what you want? To become one of those little fancy fags? Maybe you're not my son after all."

Adrian started walking away, leaving his son alone, sitting on the floor.

"I AM!" Auryk yelled, enraged. "I am your son."

"Then prove it."

"You shouldn't take so hard on him," Savannah poured her husband a cup of tea. "He's just a boy."

"He's eleven years old, for god's sake," the husband punched the table strong enough to make it shake. "He needs to man up a bit. You should stop spoiling him."

As I left my bedroom I found my brother sitting on the stairs. He didn't have to be so close to listen to the conversation between our parents, father's voice was loud enough to echo through every wall of our small and cozy home.

I sat down by his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Maybe you should do it, Leena. You'd do it better, I know."

"I'm not so sure. Remember when I tried to shoot a scarecrow and almost shot that old witch?"

"Come on, you aimed on purpose! I know."

Auryk finally let out a small laugh at the memory.

"You're good at everything, Leena," he spoke fondly. "You're an extrovert, you're everybody's friend, you can cook, you can draw and paint... you're a true artist. I'm a mistake."

"You're not a mistake, Ryk," I pulled my brother closer, resting my cheek against the side of his face. "We're only at the wrong place and you know it."

Going back to our bedroom, we pulled from the drawers the postcards our grandma Louise sent us from San Diego. Mom had been born in California and lived there her entire life, until she met father during one of his trips. God knows what made her fall in love with that man. Adventure? Danger? I expected better from myself when I turned eighteen. Otherwise, I'd never want to fall in love. Love could be my ruin, just like my mom's.

"Leena..." Auryk held the postcard tightly, "do you think... if he died... do you think mom would take us to nana's home?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I didn't want to think of my father's possible death. But I also dreamed of a better life. "Maybe."

"What the hell?" Father's voice in the kitchen made me jump in fear. I knew that tone. I grew up used to that. Something was wrong in the village. We had to hide.

"To the basement, now!" He emerged at the bedroom, holding a rifle. "Lycans were seen surrounding the area."

We barely had any time to react, mom came and dragged us both to the basement. Father left, carrying his arsenal of weapons as usual. There were other hunters in the village but we always knew how badly it could end. Somebody could always get seriously hurt. Or worse.

The basement had been carefully prepared for that kind of situation years before. It had a big bed, two armchairs, a heating source, some stored food and a shelf. Mom sighed and forced a smile.

"So," she walked to the shelf, "what is it going to be today?"

"Frankenstein," Auryk suggested. My brother loved mystery and horror. As if his life hadn't enough of it.

"Romeo and Juliet," I spoke. There was something about forbidden romance that always caught my interest.

"Okay. I... I'm gonna say a prayer and you two can read the books you picked by yourselves. What do you think?"

"Great!"

Mom kneeled down by the bed's side, holding a crucifix. I could join her if I wanted to, but I'd rather watch in silence. I grabbed my book, sitting on one of the armchairs and pretending to pay attention, while I tried to distract myself from the fact my father could be the Lycans' next prey. Or all of us, if they managed to break into our house.

"Leena?" I woke up hours later with my mom shaking me. "Leena?! Where's Auryk? Where's your brother, Leena?"

I had no idea. I had fallen asleep and apparently, so did mom. She checked for the basement's door, it had been locked from outside.

"No..." she tried to force it open. "No! I can't be..."

All Auryk had to do was to successfully kill and take a Lycan's carcass as a trophy to his father, right? That was what that old douchebag wanted him to do, to prove his courage, his manhood. We had his shotgun, a binoculars and a knife, that should be enough, but first, he needed a good plan.

Looking down to his hands, he had the most perfect idea. Without thinking twice, he sliced a cut through his palm, letting some blood pour on the ground. Then, he found a tall tree. He climbed it and observed. The smell of blood his trail left behind should be enough to attract a creature.

"Come on... come on..."

From a distance, Auryk could hear the sound of destruction and death. There was a battle going on somewhere nearby. Once again Lycans should have found a family or a group of hunters.

And then, he could hear it. The heavy footsteps, the screeching sounds, the sniffing. The mutant creature was only a few meters away from the tree. He aimed, but it was still too distant. He needed to move to a closer branch.

It all happened in one second. He was almost there, reaching for the spot he had picked, but his weight was too much for the tree's branch. In a blink of an eye, he was lying on the ground. His vision was blurred. His head hurt intensely, as well as his arm. It was broken for sure. He possibly had a concussion too. He tried to stand up and run but his legs wouldn't follow his commands. The Lycan was coming straight at him.

"AURYK!" His mother screamed behind him. "NO!"

Time seemed to freeze in that fraction of second. How did she manage to escape the basement? How could she have found him?

But without hesitation, Savannah threw herself on top of her son, protecting him from the jaws and claws of the monster. Auryk couldn't see much, but he could smell it. He could feel it. Blood. There was blood everywhere. He couldn't tell who it belonged to, he or his mom's.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A fast sequence of shots suggested the hunters had found them. The creature stopped moving, stopped howling. It was finally dead.

"M-Mom... it's dead. We... We're safe."

She didn't answer. Instead, he heard another familiar voice.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" It was from his father. "Savannah! Savannah!"

"D-Dad..." Auryk tried to speak, but the words got lost along the way. "I... I..."

Adrian lifted him by his jacket, holding him inches above the ground.

"YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED YOUR MOM, YOUR STUPID BASTARD!"

"I..." tears streamed down the boy's face, his injured brain trying to process what had just happened. "I'm sorry.'

After he was thrown back to the ground, he was hit with a hard kick on his stomach. He turned his head around to notice a small figure hiding behind a tree, watching the whole scene in pure horror.

"L-Leena..." he muttered.

"This is all your fault, Auryk. You're a disgrace to this family."

And then, he passed out. Rumors said he was unconscious for days or maybe weeks. When he woke up, he wished everything had been a nightmare.

Present Days - July, 2021

Nobody mourned Adrian Novak when he died. Not his children. Not his village mates. No human being would ever feel any sympathy for a man who abused and blamed his eleven years old son for his mother's death. It had been two years since Adrian left this world and I couldn't feel any more free.

"Hey," I left another message on my brother's voicemail, "in case you've forgotten it's our birthday today. I'd like to have my twin home, you know? Call me when you get this message."

It was useless, I knew. Auryk would only pick up his phone when he wanted to. Or when he was too drunk. God knew where that guy would be at that time, probably waking up at some girl's bed or getting some rest from... working.

After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I checked the door's mat. Bills, bills, newspaper and... California Institute Of Arts? I remember having an argument with Auryk about this matter at some point. He wanted me to fill the application and send them my portfolio. I insisted we had no money, not even to pay for the tuition. I won - I always win every argument by the way.

"Your damn son of a..." I placed the envelope on the kitchen's table. I was a coward, I confess. However, I didn't know which pain was worse - to be sure I wasn't good enough or to be sure I was, indeed, but I'd never have money to leave that hellhole. Anyways, I decided to leave it alone. I had more important things to do.

My morning routine: to go to the middle of the woods and do some training. My father used to say fighting wasn't a girl thing, but I was no regular girl. And never in this life I'd allow someone to tell me what to do.

After running, climbing and doing a set of push-ups, it was time for combat training. Travelers from abroad taught me some different set of moves, I'd like to think I created my own fighting style. I was also very good with knifes, daggers or any kinds of short blades, they were useful during a close distance combat. My shooting was a work in progress, once or twice I'd miss the center of my handmade targets.

Then, like everyday, I'd go back home, shower and follow to my shift at the village's pub.

"Hiya, Leena," Gustav greeted me when I arrived. "I heard today is a special day... the day a little girl..."

"NO!" I stopped him. Gustav was my best friend. We had known each other since we were children and somehow, he liked to make my birthday a special - and embarrassing - event.

He placed a handmade fairytale-like book on the table. There were some edited pictures, mixed with some messed up drawings about my birth and childhood. He called it 'The Princess Who Carried The Light'.

"God, you're soooo stupid..." I rolled my eyes and moaned, before wrapping him into a very tight hug. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know. You'd probably marry me, if you weren't into girls."

We laughed together, as Olga, our boss emerged from the kitchen, bringing a cake with nineteen candles.

"Here's to another year," the older woman opened a wrinkled smile, "make a wish, my darling."

I fell pensive for a moment, besides having my twin brother back home, safe and sound, what else could I wish for? California, that scholarship, a new life... that's for sure.

"I wish for... a new life, a new adventure," I pronounced aloud while blowing the candles.

"Careful," a male voice spoke behind me, "words have power, little sister. You may get what you want."

"Ryk!"

I jumped straight to my brother's arms. I could swear that in only a few weeks he had gotten a little bit taller, and stronger too.

"I wouldn't miss my own birthday, right?" He smirked. "So, where's the cake? Please, chocolate... tell me it's chocolate."

"Your silly boy," Olga spread some icing on his nose. "Of course it's chocolate, as you love. And with cherries too."

Auryk responded with a satisfied smile. Olga and her husband, Kristoff, were those responsible for taking care of him after the Lycan attack, years ago. They sort of adopted him like one of their biological children.

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed taking a closer look at Ryk's forearm. He had gotten a tattoo. I hadn't been informed of those news either. Apparently, my brother had more secrets than I could even start to imagine. "This is... new. It seems like my kids are really growing up."

"And only now you noticed that, Olga?" Gustav joked.

Olga shook her head, grinning at herself and returned to the kitchen. The customers were starting to fill the pub. I stared at Ryk again, wondering what other secrets my brother could be keeping.

"So, what does that mean?" I pointed to his newly gotten tattoo, a strange and ancient symbol it seemed.

"Protection from the evil. This is what we need the most in our lives, especially in a place like this. What reminds me -" we turned around, taking a small box from the pocket of his jacket. "Your gift."

I took the black velvet box from his hands, it contained a golden necklace with a magenta gemstone as pendant. My blue eyes drowned themselves in the stone. It had a mysterious glow. Something hypnotizing. Something magical.

"Whoa..." was everything my mouth could pronounce. "And I bought you an Astronomy book."

Auryk stood up from his chair and went behind me, taking the necklace from my hands to wear it around my neck himself.

"This is supposed to protect you from any supernatural and inhumane beings. I won't lose you to them, Aleena. Not like I lost mom."

"Ryk, I... I can't even thank you enough."

"You don't have to. Just... stay alive."

First, I was overflowing with happiness. It either had to do with the fact my brother was home, alcohol, or both. Also, Olga should thank me. Most of the costumers of the day only stopped by the bar because of me. They absolutely loved me and knowing it was my birthday, they had to come and see me. A few of them even gave me some extra tips or a small gift, which was even greater.

"Okay, party girl..." Auryk helped me to get inside of the house as I tripped over the door mat. "Time to go to bed now. Don't you think?"

"Come on, Ryk! Have some spirit! You're home, Olga gave me the day off tomorrow, I earned some money..."

"You told Mrs. Hansen you secretly had a crush on her daughter during Middle School, you danced on top of a table, you're gonna get a hangover..."

"Party pooper!"

I threw myself at the couch. Auryk stood in front of me with arms crossed, looking like a father about to give his child a lecture.

"What?!" I yelled. "It's not like you've never been drunk before. Remember when you stole Adrian's..." I started to laugh, remembering the episode.

"When you were going to tell me about this, Leena?" He showed me the envelope. The Art Institute envelope. The one I had been struggling to open.

"Oh! I forgot. My bad, I didn't open it myself yet. I probably didn't get in anyways."

"You did."

I did?

"It's not like we have money to pay for my tuition. Also, how are we supposed to move to California, Ryk? I work at a pub and you..."

"I've gotten more than enough for that. You know that getting out of this place has always been the plan, since we were children. Leena, I've done some big jobs those last few months. I have the money to grant us a comfortable life in California."

"Smuggling, Ryk!" I raised my voice, saying aloud the information that was supposed to be a secret or not. "You've been stealing to grant us this life."

My brother stared at me in silence. I couldn't tell if he felt offended or embarrassed about my words.

"I'm getting out of here, whatever it takes," he ran a hand through his dark hair. "And you are coming with me. In two weeks, we move to United States for your enrollment."

"But..."

What I was trying to protest against? Leaving the village and starting a new life with my brother was everything I always dreamed.

"Look, I promise you," Auryk placed both of his firm hands on my shoulders, "once we settle down, no more smuggling."

"Okay," I sighed. "We leave in two weeks then."

There was a loud knock on the door. Being drunk as I was, I figured out I should have forgotten my purse at the pub. Or it could be a neighbor with some very stupid emergency.

Auryk opened the door and there was a strange looking man standing there. We wore sunglasses and a hat, behind his back he was carrying a giant hammer. According to the rumors and stories I heard from my parents, that was one of the Lords of The Four Houses, Karl Heisenberg.

"Auryk Novak?" He asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me, kid. You've gotten yourself in big trouble."

[katnissmellarkkk]

Okay, so I wanted to get this out, like twelve hours ago, buttttt Tumblr is having issues with me today and it wouldn’t let me. So anyways, better late than never! 

This is a Christmas-y oneshot, set years Post-Mockingjay, with their first toastbaby. It’s completely canon-complacent and focuses on their lives and family after the war. It got way longer than I intended. Actually, originally, it was meant to be a Thanksgiving oneshot but uh... I took too long so it’s not Christmas. Only they call it Yuleday here, because I can’t imagine Panem calling it Christmas, idk why. Anyways, please read and enjoy! 

Oh yeah, and thank you @rosegardeninwinter for writing the song Katniss sings to her daughter in here!

Summary : Everlark spend Yuleday with their daughter and the rest of their blended family. 

The sticky vanilla liquid drying against the counter clings to my forearm. I wrinkle my nose slightly, the smell of vanilla too strong for my liking.

No, I prefer the smells of cinnamon and pine and fresh baked bread, I think to myself, as I watch my husband slip on a oven mitt and pull out a new loaf.

The kitchen is much messier than Peeta typically allows it to get, but he didn't have the time this week he anticipated he would to bake for our family's impending visit.

I lean unconsciously closer to the baked good, my mouth already watering at the sight. "Katniss," Peeta warns while he places a cake pan inside the oven, his voice growing stressed. "Be careful of the door." He gestures with his chin to the white-hot contraption just inches from my legs.

I roll my eyes at his fretting and pick up a piece of bread from a loaf we never finished last week. "Don't worry, I've been married to a baker for a while," I reply coyly as he begins to stir white, creamy homemade frosting around in a bowl. "I'm used to getting burned every so often."

It's his turn to send me a look now. "Yeah, because you forget to put a mitt on when touching the rack."

"Hmm, funny, my husband said at the time it was his fault for not warning me how hot it was," I shoot back as I dig my finger into the frosting bowl and pop the sugary substance into my mouth.

"That's sanitary," he deadpans and pushes me away from his workspace playfully.

"Oh, come on," I implore, pressing my hands against his chest as he tries to move me out of the kitchen and towards the living room. "Don't you ever sample your treats while making them?"

"No, Katniss," he replies, trying to remain serious but I see a smile peaking through. "Because I'm a professional."

I go to make a comment, pointing out every time before he's been less than professional in his workplace—with me, in particular. In the back room, with the most counterspace—when he leans down and plants a kiss on my lips. More than likely to shut me up.

"Yeah, this is sanitary," I tease against his mouth when we break apart ever so slightly.

Peeta leans back a little, keeping his chin still pressed against mine. "When have we ever cared about sanitary?"

I smirk up at him as his hands find my hips tenderly, his fingertips gliding underneath my shirt, touching the edge of my stomach. His lips find mine again or mine find his, but either way, in a matter of seconds I'm opening my mouth to let his tongue enter, eliciting a loud moan from him when my teeth graze his bottom lip.

"Mmm," he whispers when he pulls back again.

"Mmm?" I repeat, chuckling. "That's the best you can do?"

He tightens his arms around my waist, holding me to him. "I was about to say, I do enjoy taste testing my own frosting that way."

"Well, as long as you had a reason for invading my mouth."

"Like I said, I'm a strict professional."

Before I can reply back, there's a loud knock at our front door. Followed by another and then another, growing more noisy and cacophonous with the passing seconds.

Neither of us make a move to get the door. "Are you sure we have to invite Haymitch?" I inquire, my voice very serious.

"I believe I left that decision up to you, my love," Peeta replies cheekily, planting a small kiss on my nose.

"I can hear you two," Haymitch barks from the other side of the door before he knocks again, just as loud, and then rattles the doorknob. "Let me in, I'm freezing," he demands gruffly.

Peeta opens the door with a sardonic look, revealing our grouchy mentor and, at his feet, our tiny daughter, bundled up to keep from the cold. "Put a coat on, Haymitch."

"Why would I do that? I was coming here to sit by your fireplace all day anyway."

"Mommy!" Indigo shouts and races her chubby little legs in a beeline to me.

I scoop her up easily, having missed her for the entire forty-five minutes she was away from me. "Did you have a good time helping feed the geese?" I ask, in a tone I would have found absolutely embarrassing three years ago. I never even spoke to Prim in that tone.

"No, I hate them," she proclaims, very seriously, before laying her head against my shoulder exhaustedly. "They're very demanding cree-ters," she explains.

I nod, petting down her long, dark hair, moving it out of her little face, giving me access to the stunning blue eyes Peeta gave her. "They are very demanding creatures, aren't they?"

"But someone has to help Granpuh," she adds on the end, very matter-of-fact.

I shake my head at that, hoisting her higher on my hip. "I think Haymitch takes care of himself just fine, Indigo," I murmur sternly, as my old mentor passes by me, his eyes falling on the frosting bowl still sitting on the counter where we left it.

"Excuse me, Sweetheart. It's Grandpa to her," Haymitch corrects gruffly, pointing to my child.

Peeta hums as he leans against the doorframe, his shirt tightening up around his shoulders as he stretches his neck. "Katniss, remember when you were pregnant and Haymitch swore our kid wouldn't call him Grandpa?"

"I seem to remember that well."

"Yeah, well I seem to remember you saying no one is ever calling your daughter Indy and yet, here we are," the older man reminds me and all levity is gone from my face instantly, only to be replaced with irritation.

Three years ago when I gave birth, me and Peeta both agreed on the name Indigofera. Or, more like, he agreed because I liked the name.

I never expected to have a child. I spent majority of my life swearing I'd never procreate. The world I grew up in, the only world I knew, was nowhere I'd allow a child to grow up in. Not if I had any control of over.

Not when every year from the age of twelve to eighteen, my child could be stolen from me, could be taken away and tossed into a dressed up cage, forced to fight to the death, likely die on national television.

I'd never allow my child to live in that world.

That sentiment only grew stronger once a child of my own was no longer just a vague image, but a living, breathing, loud little being.

The idea of my Indigofera being subjected to the world I knew, the world that fell apart almost twenty years ago now, is beyond devastating to me.

I still wonder sometimes how Peeta ever was able to convince me to have a child.

As I think of him, he's right beside me, saying something quippy to Haymitch, before pulling Indigo out of my arms and unzipping her coat. I watch on at their exchange as she puts her tiny little hands on his cheeks, telling him happily about her time with Granpuh and the geese. I watch as Peeta's eyes brighten when he looks at her, I watch as she smiles more and more with his encouraging nods, prodding her to keep talking. I watch as she squeals out and laughs when he tickles her and kisses the side of her face.

And I still wonder, how on earth he convinced me to have a child.

But I'm thankful every day he did, from the bottom of my heart. That little girl is the most important being in both our lives and, though I had no idea at the time, we were not complete without her.

"Daddy, I'm hungry," Indigo complains as he starts to pull away, very obviously intending to head back to the kitchen and finish up baking and frosting.

"We're going to eat once Grandma and the others gets here, Bean," I promise, stepping in to scoop her back up.

"They're so slow," Indigo says, with no shame or remorse in her voice for the blunt statement.

"Indigo," Peeta chides gently. "That's not a nice thing to say."

"It's kind of true," I add sheepishly after a moment, agreeing with our daughter.

My husband just rolls his eyes at me now. "You're a bad influence on her."

"Oh, give me a break, Peeta!" I exclaim defensively. "You gave her chocolate pancakes for breakfast today. I think you're the bad influence."

"I made them for you too, Katniss," he reminds me wryly.

"That's a little different-"

"Hello," Haymitch interrupts as he plops down on the sofa, his usual spot in our house. "Some of us would like to eat Yuleday Dinner tonight."

"And?"

"And that's not going to happen if we don't let the boy work, Sweetheart."

The boy. Haymitch never did get new nicknames for us, despite Peeta being a man, a husband and a father for quite some time now.

Peeta hauls Haymitch up by the arm from his seat. "If you're going to be in my house, you're going to help me with dinner," he says firmly and Indigo giggles against my neck, watching her daddy drag her grandpa into the kitchen.

Haymitch being grandpa was only ever meant to be a joke. Neither me nor Peeta ever intended for Indigo to actually view Haymitch Abernathy as her grandfather.

Though it makes sense. He's been a constant in our lives since we were sixteen. And even when me and Haymitch are at each other's throats, he still shows up here, sitting on the couch, expecting dinner, at least once a week. He regularly shows up at the bakery Peeta runs now almost entirely on his own, asking for free samples. And he still loves our daughter like his own flesh and blood.

The only true gripe I have about Haymitch and Indigo's relationship is the nickname Indy. I knew when we named her Indigofera, after the mysterious plant that my father used to jokingly say was about as real to us as unicorns—the color plant was all but extinct long before I was even born—that her natural nickname would be Indigo. Peeta himself says we gave her a mouthful of a name, choosing to go as far as adding in a middle name that we both lacked ourselves. But something about the nickname Indy is extremely unappealing to me.

And as her mother, as the person who grew her and carried her inside me, and loves her more than all the things in the world combined, I think I should have final say on what she's called.

I'm abruptly pulled out of my thoughts by a soft, little hand pulling my tangled hair. "Mommy, what time does Finn get here?"

Of course, that's who Indigo is focused on. It's not just my mother arriving today to join us for our Yuleday Dinner. It's everyone that me and Peeta consider family.

Including Annie and Finn, her child with the sensual, alluring, kind-hearted Finnick Odair. The child who has taken after his father in ways that seemed unimaginable.

Indigo knows, even at three-years-old, that we always treat Finnick's memory with respect. We never forget him or anyone else that ever helped us make the country a safe place.

Of course, she's too young to fully understand. What she understands is Finn, who at eighteen, has all his father's looks and charm, is her suto-cousin, is her playmate and brings her presents. And as far as I'm concerned, that's all she needs to understand.

"In an hour," I reply gently, bringing myself back to reality. Pushing her dirty hair back, I lean my nose against her's, letting my eyes grow bigger. "You know what that means?"

She lets out a loud shriek of excitement and all but kicks her way out of my arms. "Bath time!" She yells as she propels herself excitedly towards the stairs, going on all fours to struggle her way up independently.

I stay inches behind her, making sure I'm able to catch her if she should tumble, but the precaution isn't necessary. Indigo gets to the top stair and takes off running towards the bathroom down the hall.

"Lots of bubbles," Indigo commands in a very serious tone as she watches me pour a cap full into her bath water.

I remind myself for the thousandth time to send Effie a thank you note for bath bubbles she sent weeks ago. My old escort is one of the few people I haven't kept in close contact with over the years and it's no surprise really. Me and Peeta never stopped looking at the Capitol with disdain, perhaps even more so after the war, and Effie, even with a good heart deep inside, is Capitol, through and through.

But she's still sent sporadic gifts here and there over the years. She's still called Haymitch dozens of times since the end of the war. She's still kept her mouth shut about Indigo's existence for the last three years and for that, I am indebted to my old escort for life.

Peeta and I agreed early on in my pregnancy that Indigo would never be property of the Capitol. It didn't matter how much safer the world was now, or how many new faces have come along for people to fawn over in the last eighteen years, or how adorable Indigo is, we both vowed with everything we had that no one outside our family and friends and community would know of her birth. If I did anything in my life, it would be protect my child.

The way I failed to protect my sister.

Even almost twenty years later, the memory still stung. The image of my sister being blown apart, right before my eyes, is permanently ingrained in my mind. I still wake up from nightmares, reliving Prim's last moments alive before the bombs took her away forever.

But the once searing pain had faded into a dull ache, a deep imbedded hurt that never went away entirely but instead became a part of who I was.

I help Indigo into the tub and instantly get to work, washing her up as she splashes around and plays with her bubbles. Technically Effie sent them to me, along with a lot of other useless items that I all but threw out immediately, but they were better used for Indigo. Whereas I saw the impracticality in many of Effie's gifts, Indigo saw a new luxury, a new toy, a new activity or adventure she could have.

It's the Peeta in her. It's his appreciation for beauty that he passed down to our daughter.

I've told him countless times in the last few years that if she turns out to have a massive spending addiction or have desires to live a luxurious life, it's all on him.

"Alright, eyes shut," I warn dramatically, waiting for her to cover her big blue eyes with her tiny palms before dousing her head with water.

After she's dried and dressed she runs into the kitchen barefoot and immediately flings herself onto Peeta, gripping his prosthetic leg. "Daddy, look how clean I am!"

He chuckles as he finishes wiping the counter off before scooping her up. "Imagine how clean you could be every day if Mommy didn't take you to the woods to play in the dirt?"

He's teasing me and I know it, but I still shoot him a dirty look. "She gets dirtier in Daddy's kitchen than the woods."

"Dirty? From baking?" He directs the questions towards the three-year-old in his arms. "No!"

Indigo gives him a shy smile before a loud giggle escapes and nodding her head, affirming his point. "See," he points out, gesturing to her grinning face.

"Daddy is the bad influence around here," I say as I pull her from his arms.

"Only because Mommy corrupted me," he says back as he moves to grab the broom, the last step in his clean up routine before the rest of our guests arrive.

He leans around me and Indigo to grab the cleaning device, before not so subtly sneaking a kiss on his way back. I just look to our daughter and, indicating to her father with my chin, wrinkle my nose dramatically, causing her to laugh more.

"Mommy's mad at you," she informs him, finding this very humorous.

"Hmm, is she?" Peeta asks, as if he's shocked by the news.

"Yes," I affirm. "For implying I dirty my child, when it's you who covers her in flour and cake batter every other day."

"Oh, well, Indy, whatever will we do to gain Mommy's forgiveness?" He isn't gaining any sort of forgiveness from me by using her annoying nickname. Still he pretends not to notice my narrowing eyes, as if after eighteen years he doesn't know me like the back of his hand.

"Bake her somting!" She exclaims, clapping and excited again. She's always excited. I'm not even sure if she's mine some days with how enthusiastic this little human can be.

"Hmm, I could," he agrees, but then dramatically he gazes around the kitchen, as if seeing it for the first time. "You know what though? I just cleaned it all up in here. So I guess I can't bake Mommy something. I guess I'll have to try other methods."

As if he planned it the entire time—which, without a doubt, he did—Peeta leans in gently and starts pressing kisses to my skin, right where my jaw meets my neck. I resist at first and so his lips move upwards, towards my forehead, towards my nose and then my chin.

"Okay," I relent, laughing in spite of myself, batting him away. "Okay, you're forgiven." I reward him with a smile as he moves his lips from peppering my face to my mouth itself. He only gives me a chaste kiss, since I'm holding his daughter, but it's enough to make my stomach flip like it did on the beach, when we were seventeen.

We were also in a death match, neither of us intending to live through the following day, but that fact somehow has separated itself in the almost twenty years since the war from the moment between me and Peeta, and for that I'm grateful. I'm grateful for my mind compartmentalizing itself, for the horrors witnessed and forever printed inside my head somehow shifting away from specific moments in the games, moments I can now look back on more fondly than when I was seventeen.

I look at Peeta again then, as he gives me a sweet smile and turns away to start sweeping the floor, to rid it of the thick layer of flour split while baking, and I'm suddenly intensely grateful for the last eighteen years. I'm suddenly intensely grateful for the almost two decades he's given me, that had been the best years of my life.

Of course, the little squirming creature in my arms have only made the years better, and I kiss her face gently, murmuring softly, "Let me braid your hair," against her little pink cheek.

She obediently sits in front of me and starts humming as I comb the knots from the long dark locks she inherited from me. "What're you singing?" I ask, smiling, already knowing what song she's trying to hum.

"Bloo sky," she replies simply, before going back to humming again to herself. I smirk softly, waiting for her to ask me to take over.

And, of course, with the predictability of a three-year-old, Indigo turns around abruptly after a long moment of silence with a frazzled look overtaking her big blue eyes. "Mommy?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Can you sing bloo sky? I can't 'member all the words."

My smirk turns to a full on smile now, as I begin to twist her now soft and silky hair into a braid. "Don't let your mind be troubled, dear. Don't you get lost in fear. For through all the storm clouds and darkest days, I promise I will be here."

Indigo beams at me, tipping her head back to watch me sing before her own little voice, lisp and wrong words and all—though, I have inexpressible pride that her melody is perfectly on pitch—joins in with me.

"And a blue sky will come shining through. And a blue sky just for me and you," I sing as she accidentally says too instead of through. "Through all the storm clouds and darkest days, there's a blue sky for just me and for you," we finish.

"And for Daddy," Indigo suddenly asserts, like she forgot him until now.

I laugh gently. "Yes, but that won't fit the rhyme."

"What's a rhyme?"

"Nevermind, Indigo." I can barely hold back a chuckle as I finish her braid, tying it with the band around my wrist. Since she grew hair long enough to get caught on things, I've always made a special point in carrying extra hair ties for her, everywhere we go.

"Sweetheart, am I expected to go grab our guests in my car? Because I don't have enough room so someone's going to have to hang onto the bumper-"

"Don't worry, Haymitch," I cut off, laughing again, at the image of him attempting to gather up our blended family and friends in what he refers to as a car. "And I didn't miss you saying our guests," I add, turning away from my child to give him a look.

"I helped the boy clean the kitchen, I get to take ownership over the guests as well."

"Grandpuh?" Indigo's little voice peeps. "I wanna go for a ride before Finn gets here."

"Finn?" Haymitch picks. "Every person you've ever met is coming over today and it's Finn Odair you're excited to see?"

But Indigo adores—and I mean, adores—Finn and he's always been so good with her, more patient than any typical teenager is expected to be, and his arrival is all she's really thinking about.

"Haymitch, stop giving my daughter crap and take her for a ride in town," Peeta calls from the kitchen, evidently by the clanging noise, putting away the last of the dishes. "Hurry up too, I don't want her out there when the crowd comes in."

We never allow Indigo out into town during the busy times a day. During the times when the crowds, even here in the once decimated Twelve, grow too large for either Peeta or my liking. Too many opportunities for a stranger to grab her, too many chances for her to get lost, too many things could go wrong. Too many dangers exist for a three-year-old, even in this world that is miles better than the one we used to know.

Peeta and I do our best to put the past behind us, but we both still have times when the memories of war and bloodshed and cruelty creep in, and it's on those days all I can imagine is the world shifting again, some sort of disorder or disarray ruining the peace that will always feel foreign to me. It's on those days all I can see is the games coming back, is someone taking Indigo from me, putting her through what no child should have to endure, her sweet, little innocence being ripped away violently. Someone taking me or Peeta from her, her pure heart being hardened, the blue eyes that sometimes I swear I could see my sister in turning ice cold.

It's on those days I shut and lock the doors, I refuse to open the blinds, I refuse to let my daughter out of my sight. It's those days I beg Peeta not to run to the bakery, to just stay with us, to just not go where I can't see either of them.

It's on those days I plan what I will do if the world does fall to its knees again, if my worst fears when even thinking of the abstract idea of having a child come to life. I never tell anyone of these thoughts, but on the days Peeta has a flashback or can't sleep, on the days when he feels like he’s still seventeen, locked inside Snow's mansion, a tortured shadow of the wonderful boy with the golden heart, on the days he paints horrific images he'll never let our daughter see, I know he makes his own plan too.

As always, Indigo breaks me out of my thoughts as they run dark, jumping up excitedly, ready to go for a ride in Haymitch's car. It's actually more resemblant of a cart, with just room for three people if you squeeze, and no doors in sight. But she loves it and it makes her happy and after everything else, I know I can trust Haymitch with my child.

I fix her little green overall dress, straightening her dandelion patterned shirt underneath. "Don't let Haymitch get your dirty," I instruct very clearly.

"Yes, Mommy."

"And don't mess up your hair."

"Yes, Mommy."

"And don't be too long."

"Yes, Mommy."

"And don't talk to strangers."

"Okay, can I go already?"

Both Haymitch and Peeta laugh at me and it takes all my restraint not to say something profane in front of Indigo.

As soon as they leave, I get to work, helping Peeta straighten up the house before our guests arrive.

As I'm finishing fluffing and re-arranging the pillows, two warm hands come into contact with my waist. "Excuse me, sir, I'm working right now."

Peeta's arms wrap entirely around me now, his lips on my neck. "Don't worry, I know the boss. She'll... understand."

"Will she?" I cock an eyebrow at him teasingly.

He nods confidently. "She rather enjoys activities such as these."

I'm about to coyly ask what activities he's implying when his lips trail up further, finding residence closer and closer to my mouth.

His lips have just contacted mine when I whisper breathlessly, unable to stop myself, "the second our daughter leaves, you just can't help yourself."

His kiss turns to a laugh. "She does tend to take up a lot of the bed space. We have to catch these opportunities for us when we can."

I chuckle in response, because it's true. As much as we both love our child—more than words could ever say—lately, her fear of sleeping in her room down the hall has meant we've gained a new, invasive bedmate.

"That we do," I agree, smirking now as I fiddle with his sky blue collar that matched his eyes. "I see had a wardrobe change."

"Mhmm. Thought I would look nice for Yuleday."

"Is there someone special you're expecting to see? Someone you want to dress up for?" I tease, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my lips to the center of his chest, right at my eye level.

"There is, actually," he affirms slyly. "Two people, in fact. Both women. One a little smaller than the other. Both have dark hair and loud voices—"

"Excuse you?"

"Both have me wrapped entirely around their fingers," he adds, full on smiling now.

"Good save," I retort, about to turn away when I feel his hands grip the underside of my thighs and hoist me up against him.

I pretzel myself around his body, unable to help the girlish noise of surprise that slips out as he holds me in his arms. "We only have maybe ten minutes until Indigo and Granpuh," he imitates his three-year-old, but his nose teasingly presses against mine and his voice is very suggestive, "come back. We should... make the most of it... before we have to entertain guests all day."

I return the glint his eyes, my desires in line with his. Our lips meet halfway in the minimal space still remaining between us, and we waste no time before our tongues begin to intertwine, twirl and gently twist.

I feel his hand sliding up my ratty, torn shirt, just barely crossing over my stomach to my ribs when a knock at the door suddenly catches us off-guard.

"Haymitch isn't usually back this fast," I say as Peeta—very reluctantly—sets me down.

But as soon as the words slip from my lips, a thousand thoughts race through my mind.

What if Haymitch had lost Indigo somehow, in the crowd that always grows large on Yuleday? What if someone took my baby? What if she's scared and can't find me and I don't even know it yet because I let an old drunk man take her out of my sight? What if she fell out of Haymitch's cart and smacked her head on the town's icy cobblestones? What if the car spun out and hit a tree and now one of our neighbors is coming to tell us the grave news?

I'm holding my breath, my heart suddenly beating a million miles a second, as my husband pulls open the door.

Behind the door is not Haymitch nor a random member of our community. It's Delly. Delly Cartwright-Bagley and her husband and three children in tow.

A half hour early.

I can't help the reaction that slips from my lips, the stress of my fears overpowering my filter. "Would it have killed you to show up on time?"

Peeta shoots me a look but I ignore him. Delly however is unfazed by my irritation. As is her husband, Kanon.

"Happy Yuleday, Katniss!" Delly beams and pushes her plate of frosted cookies into Peeta's hands to hug me tightly. "And we only showed up early because your husband invited us to," she adds, talking too loudly into my ear.

My eyes narrow at Peeta but he's clearly just as unhappy with himself, since now our plans have been interrupted.

"I said they could come early and help," Peeta defends slightly, just as Delly's husband notices the button I must have unknowingly undid.

"Mmm, well you two could go upstairs while we finish getting everything ready for the rest of the guests," Kanon teases, ruffling Peeta's conspicuously tousled hair as he leads the three young ones inside from the cold.

Delly pulls back from me then and leads her eldest, Evelyn Malia Bagley—but, much like with Indigofera, is known solely by Evie—to the kitchen, with a high level of familiarity.

The confidence inside my house is only natural at this point, considering the relationship with our family and Delly's has grown much closer than I ever could have anticipated.

Delly is Peeta's childhood best friend, and therefore after the war she was one of the biggest supporters and greatest confidants to him in his darkest hours. The times I couldn't do anything, because I was the source of his fear, of his anger or his pain. 

Or rather, Snow made him believe I was.

Delly's presence in Peeta's life was far more helpful than any over the phone therapist could have ever been, and for that I am eternally grateful. However, I never expected her to be a close friend to me as well.

Begrudgingly on my part some days, but it was fact. If I ever needed anything, if I was having a hard time, if I ever wanted to talk with someone besides Peeta—which is rare but happens every so often—I'm still shocked to realize Delly Cartwright-Bagley is one of the first people I'll turn to. I’m still shocked to realize the girl who once had baby fat and yellow hair, who sat two rows ahead of me in school and chewed her bubblegum obnoxiously loud, is one of my closest companions. 

She's surprisingly more understanding and wise underneath her overly perky personality and boisterously loud voice.

And, of course, the man she married also helps the equation. Kanon is a kind, tall man, a few years older than the rest of us. He's rather quiet but will poke a joke at someone he knows well enough. He's hardworking and loyal and intuitive.

He's the exact opposite of Delly, which sounds like it should be a recipe for disaster but in reality has proven to be a wonderful occurrence in everyone's life.

After all, we all let out a sigh of relief when she could quit working at the medicine factory.

For all of Delly's good qualities—and there are a great many—she's not exactly an ideal factory worker. Or manual laborer. Or cleaning personnel.

When Delly took over operating the counter at Kanon's Candy Store, which unlike the bakery, is more of a novelty than an essential, everything sort of fell into place.

"Aunt Katty!" I hear a small voice shriek, pushing her older brother out of the way to sprint into my arms.

I barely have time to catch little Kendall, Delly's youngest child before she’s flung herself onto me with a force only her mother could have matched.

"Hi, Sweetie," I all but coo, disgusting even myself a bit.

I hug her almost as tightly as she hugs me, and I intentionally ignore Peeta's smirk in my direction.

Okay, so I'm not the most subtle about having a favorite out of Delly's litter. But Kendall is only three months different in age than my Indigo, so I have the excuse of spending the most time with the little wild, rambuctious thing.

Although my child is by far the ringleader in their friendship. A fact I try not to think of too often, as I could easily imagine a multitude of things Indigofera could get into if I don't keep a close eye on her.

"Where's Indy?" Kendall asks as I cart her to the kitchen. She's the only one I let that nickname slide with.

"She went for a ride with Haymitch."

Speaking of my child only increases my anxiety for her whereabouts. I suddenly regret letting my old mentor take her at all, as my gut continues to constrict painfully, thinking of every scenario in which she could be taken away from me. Forever.

My only job, the only one I truly cannot live with the idea of failing, is keeping my daughter safe.

I failed once before to protect someone I loved more than my own life. Twice, I correct myself, looking at Peeta, who's now guiding five year old Rhys by hand to the kitchen.

I cannot fail Indigofera, like I failed both Prim and Peeta.

Delly senses the tension building inside of me as I come to stand beside her, Kendall still on my hip. "Haymitch would never let Indigo get hurt," she says without preamble. To her credit though, she says it quieter than her typical range of volume. "C'mon. It's his granddaughter."

The four of us laugh, the fact that a little person with giant blue eyes and a constant pair of messy braids is what entirely melted Haymitch Albernathy's heart still laughable three years later.

I let Kendall down and watch as she and her siblings begin to set the table dutifully, with more order and structure than I had at their age.

I feel the everlasting anxiety that's making a permanent home inside my gut suddenly release, like a knife being pulled out of a stab wound, as Indigo's voice fills the room.

"Mommy!" She yells, racing into the kitchen as fast as her little legs can carry her. "Look at what Gamma Sae gave me," she exclaims, holding up a stuffed bear for me to see.

I don't acknowledge the toy or her hair that's coming out of the braid I only just did, or even the grass stain on her dandelion patterned shirt. I just yank her up into my arms and squeeze her tight.

I should be ashamed of myself, that my three-year-old knows when I've worried or been in distress over her, but all I am is awed when she lays her little head on my shoulder and whispers softly, "I'm okay, Mommy. Granpuh wouldn't let anything hurt me."

There is an awkward pause in the room for a moment, only noticeable to the adults. I don't know if it's because they understand my anxiety—Peeta, at least, typically does—or if it's because they think I'm insane, but no one speaks until Indigo shuffles herself downwards and immediately tackles Kendall, excitedly showing her the stuffed animal Greasy Sae gave her.

Delly, as per usual, breaks the silence. "You know, if you two ever want to finish the... activity you were engaged in when we showed up, I will gladly take care of Indigo for an afternoon."

I roll my eyes, long past the point where Delly could make me blush with her innuendos. "I'll keep that in mind."

Peeta is chuckling as he finishes drying off a now clean cooking bowl. "You're a more appealing babysitter than Haymitch," he says, his eyes falling on the older man, who's standing with the kids now, not-so-subtly keeping closer to Indigo, as he isn't too fond of most children in general.

"You sure we wouldn't be ruining your fun?" I tease now, looking at Kanon, who's arranging the cookies they brought onto a different plate.

"Katniss, we have three kids," Delly all but deadpans. A rarity for her. "All under eight years old. One more won't make a difference."

Kanon speaks up then as me and Peeta snicker. "We also learned to be faster," he adds slyly, looking directly at me. "The joy of having a few kids. Makes you a better multi-tasker."

"I so miss when you used to be quiet," I say in a monotone as the doorbell, that no one uses, unexpectedly rings.

"Peeta, how many people did you invite early?" I snap.

He holds up his hands defensively. "No one else, I swear."

"Sure."

But when I open the door, revealing my mother, Annie and Finn, I know he's got to be telling the truth. He wouldn't have invited my mother early for anything. The tension that existed years ago is all but gone—especially since Indigo's birth, the event that drew us closer than we had been since I was a child—but still, Peeta remains cautious. When it comes to my mother, he leaves her visitation completely up to me.

Her husband, Rod Marin, doesn't attend our celebration however. I don't know if it's the chilly reception he may or may not receive from me, or if it's the fact that my mom doesn't want to bring Rod's daughters with them, but either way, she has attended our home alone for the last five years and, as selfish as that may be, I prefer it this way.

Still, I greet her warmly. "Hi, Mom," I say as she hugs me tightly.

"Sorry we're a little early, honey," she professes as she steps into the house that was once her home too.

"That's fine," I assure, even though I'm not dressed or ready yet.

Annie is next and she instantly throws her arms around my neck. "I missed you," she murmurs in the sweet, gentle way she's always had since I met her in District Thirteen.

"We missed you too," Peeta calls from around the corner as he comes into our eyesight, holding a very excited Indigo in his arms.

"Finn!" She screams as she all but launches herself away from Peeta and into the eighteen year old's arms.

"Hi!" He exclaims as he catches her and swings her upwards, returning the overzealous squeeze she's giving his neck. "How's my best girl?"

"She's gweat!" Indigo beams and my heart melts a little, watching her with the boy who looks so much like his father. The boy who's always been such a joy in life. The boy who saved his mother eighteen years ago, who has been nothing but respectful and kind and funny to me and Peeta, who has shown incredible maturity at such a young age.

Then again, at his age I had already been through two games and a war. Peeta had already been hijacked and fought his way back. I'd already lost my little sister. Me and Peeta had our toasting at only a year older, at nineteen. Maybe eighteen isn't a young as it seems to me now, looking at youthful Finn, who I watched learn to walk and talk and swim and tie a knot.

Or maybe I was just as young when all that tragedy occurred. Maybe I just felt older because of the circumstances in which I was born, because of the world in which we lived.

I shake my head slightly, trying to shake the bad thoughts away.

"Indy, guess what?" Finn prompts enthusiastically—but not without shooting me a teasing glance, knowing my distain for her nickname.

"What?"

"I brought something."

"What?"

Both Peeta's and my curiosity has been peaked now, just as much as our child's. Annie's hesitant glance, that looks both hopeful and apprehensive, only fuels my confusion more.

"Well, there's a new tradition in some of the other districts that I think you'd find fun," he explains, but his eyes flicker to me and I raise an eyebrow, wondering what he could be suggesting. "You see you cut down a tree—or sometimes people in One or Two buy a plastic tree—and then you bring it home and decorate it."

Indigo claps her hands together, too excited and too precious for me to disappoint her. "I want to do it!" She yells, with an exuberance only a three-year-old could possess. "Kenny, we're gonna decorate a tee!"

I hear a variant of what being exclaimed in the other room, where my mother, Haymitch and the Bagley's still are.

"Where do we buy decorations?" My child asks, abruptly serious, the details of this tradition becoming clearer in her little mind.

"Indy," Finn quickly tries to corral. "I brought decorations with me, but we need a tree and..." He hesitates, looking at me now.

"And?" She prompts, confused.

"We have to ask your momma if it's alright to get one. Since it's her house we'll be doing this in." He winks at me, then turns his eyes pleading, half mocking me.

Indigo doesn't have to even feign the look, she naturally inherited that sweet, wide eyed, begging glint. Either from Prim or Peeta—probably both—and I'm powerless against it.

"Fine," I relent dramatically. Indigo rewards me by jumping from Finn's arms to mine and kicking her little chubby legs excitedly. "But not until after dinner," I condition.

"We should probably go get the tree now though?" Peeta suddenly speaks up, looking at the clock on the wall. "Before it gets dark?"

I shoot him a glare over Indigo's head. "It won't get dark for hours. And why do you seem not surprised by this?"

Peeta shrugs too innocently and when Annie giggles and nudges his shoulder, I realize they had been conspiring behind my back.

"Daddy is definitely the bad influence around here, Indigofera," I declare, as my husband walks closer to us, leans down and kisses my hair.

"We love you," he says teasingly, against my crown. "Even if you are a stick in the mud sometimes."

Before I can respond, likely with a snappy comment, our daughter pops her head off my shoulder. "Daddy, I want to pick out the tee."

Of course she does. That girl has been in charge of us since the day she was born.

"Okay, Bean. Ask your mother if it's alright," he tells her, but it's just a formality at this point, as to not ruffle me further. She's his kid too, he can take her to get a tree if he wants.

"Mommy, can I-"

"Yes," I say exasperatedly, giving Peeta a look as I hand him Indigo.

"Don't worry, Sweetheart," he whispers, leaning down and touching his nose to mine. "I'll take care of our girl."

"I know," I sigh, because I do know that. I've never not trusted him with our child. Even if I prefer to keep them both here with me. Even if I'd have preferred to keep her inside of me, where I knew I could protect her always.

I can't keep the smile off my face though when he pecks my lips unexpectedly and then my nose. "We won't be long."

"Better not be," I call as he grabs their coats and carries my little girl out the door, following behind Finn and Kanon and the Bagley kids. "Or else I'm eating without you."

"Same here," Delly calls from the kitchen, though they probably can't hear her.

"Go change," Annie suggests, touching my messy braid gently. "I'll go help Delly and your mom."

I shoot her a grateful smile and make my way upstairs. In the years since the war both Annie and Johanna have remained, shockingly—maybe only to me—constants in mine and Peeta's lives. They both returned to their home districts, but through visits and telegraphs and phone calls, even just for Jo to call me an idiot, they both became a part of a new blended family I didn't even know was being created.

Though I am grateful now for it. Beyond words. As neither me nor Peeta can offer Indigo any sort of extended family, her having Johanna, Delly, Annie and their families somehow fills the space left empty from the loss the war gave us.

As if on cue, just as I'm thinking of her, I hear a loud rapt on the bathroom door and know Johanna has arrived.

"Come in," I yell as I pull on a dark green—which for some reason is an acceptable color on Yuleday—sweater and push a brush through my hair viciously. I'm just moving on to rebraiding it simply when Jo enters.

"Hello, Brainless," her voice rings out as she steps into the bathroom.

"I'm shocked you knocked."

"I didn't wanna see you indecently."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Probably won't be the last."

We both let out a laugh and—pretending to be at least a little begrudgingly about it—embrace for a moment.

"Missed your stupidity these last couple of months," she murmurs as she pulls back.

"My stupidity? You once almost shot an arrow at Haymitch."

"You thought that was an accident?"

I can't help but snort as I turn back to the mirror and finish up my braid. "How's Christopher?" I ask, my tone a little more serious.

But she just shrugs, her gaze focusing now on Indigo's tiny comb. The one with the diamonds that Effie sent and Peeta insisted we keep.

Christopher is the man Jo, almost against her will, fell for almost two years ago. She refuses to commit to him entirely, especially since he has a son not much older than Indigo and that prospect alone terrifies her, but when Peeta visited her last year he told me that Christopher and his son, David, without a doubt live in that house with her.

"I can't believe you keep stuff from Effie Trinket?" Jo segues gracelessly. "Especially for a three-year-old."

"Blame Indigo's father. Both for her love of fancy things and his compliance in letting her have them."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, because you make sure she only gets the bare necessities."

"Okay, who's side are you on?"

"The one who makes the dinner around here."

"I hunt it."

"He stuffs it and bakes it."

"This feels personal. Is this because I didn't save you any pumpkin cake or sweet nut bread from Harvest Dinner?"

"Now that you mention it-"

Johanna is abruptly cut off by the sound of a yelp. Only, instead of the sound being a distress call or a bone chilling cry, it's one of excitement.

"Johanna Mason, get down here!" Annie yells, way too excited to be beckoning Jo of all people.

She rolls her eyes—a little too good-naturedly to be as annoyed as she'd like for me to believe—before exiting the bathroom and heading down to greet Annie at the bottom of the staircase.

I chuckle to myself, marveling at their odd friendship, before brushing my teeth and washing my face and heading down to join them as well.

I almost run headfirst into my husband as I walk by the front door. "That was quick," I note breathlessly as Peeta catches me by the waist, burying his now chilly face into my neck. Probably more for warmth than romance.

"Hmm, Indy-Indigo," he corrects himself humorously. "She is very decisive. Saw the tree she wanted and looked at no second options."

I wrap my arms around his neck and peer over his shoulder. "And where is the little decisive thing now?"

"Having a snowball fight with Finn and Kendall in the snow. You'll be happy to know your daughter is winning."

I roll my eyes. "Of course she is. Well, I guess we better start the fire to warm her up when she's done."

"Hypothermia would be a bummer on Yuleday," he agrees cheekily.

"For us more than her."

"Pretty much."

Inside the living room, Kanon and Haymitch—but mostly Kanon—are finishing setting up a newly trimmed tree, right by the back door.

"Sweetheart, it's your dream," Haymitch taunts. "Having part of the woods in your house."

"Did he knock a few back on the way to grab a tree?" I ask Peeta quietly, as he wraps his arms around my waist from behind.

"Probably. I was busy watching the four little ones, I didn't have time to monitor an old man too."

"Should have put Finn on Haymitch watch."

"You know, I can hear you," our old mentor barks as Kanon finishes putting up the tree.

"Indigo!" I hear my mother exclaim, as the front door opens again.

I spin around in time to see a little person, shorter than all the other kids, practically dance her way into the house. "Gamma!"

"Hey," I halt her, pulling away from Peeta. "Let's not track snow into the house, baby."

Delly and Annie both help dust off the other three while I pull Indigo's scarf, boots, hat, gloves and coat off and toss them all aside carelessly. Much to Peeta's dismay, as he sees the snow fly all over the entryway.

"Let's not track snow into the house, baby," he imitates.

"Shut up."

As soon as she's free from the white frozen slush, she launches herself towards my mother. "Hi!"

"Hi, sweet girl! How'd you like playing in the snow?"

"It was fweezing. But I beat Finn and Kenny at our snowball fight so it was worth it." She smiles up at my mother proudly and for a moment, Indigo looks exactly like Peeta and I am amazed at that fact somehow. Considering, at first glance, she's all me besides the eyes.

Except sometimes she looks at me and I see my sister at her age, so deeply ingrained in her eyes, in her mannerisms, in her voice, that I'm taken back to being child again myself.

"You're a little messy," my mother also notes, pushing back the hair that has fallen from her braid.

"Well I like to play so, things happen." Her little shrug is one of the most endearing things about her.

"Your mother also loved to get messy."

I furrow my brows. "I was always very clean, Mom."

"Oh I doubt that," Peeta disagrees and has the audacity to laugh, standing right beside me now. "You aren't even very clean now."

I turn to him, pressing my face close to his, trying to look threatening as I push my nose against his. "I will get you."

"Oh, please do," he eggs on, his smile turning into a grin.

"I have a bow, I could literally-"

"Is dinner almost ready yet?" Rhys, Delly's only son, complains.

Chuckling slightly, I pull my face away from a still smirking Peeta. Thankfully, no one else noticed our exchange, aside from my mother, who's too polite to do more than smile.

"Yeah, Rhys, dinner's all ready," Peeta says, putting his hand on the back of the little boy's head and guiding him to the table.

Dinner is only slightly chaotic. Four kids under eight-years-old, a teenager who can match Haymitch's humor effortlessly, Jo and Peeta and I swinging insults back and forth like compliments and then Annie, who's quiet and blissful spirit can't be tempered for anything in this world on holidays, and my mother, who feigns oblivious to the chaos surrounding her, all adds up to an interesting affair. Add in the stupid stray cat my daughter adores meowing at the back door and it's practically a circus.

But it's a circus I have found myself loving, more and more, since Indigo joined us. Since I somehow made the most beautiful and intelligent and spirited human being, somehow the dreary outlook I used to hold on this new post-war holiday has turned to excitement.

Maybe it's the fact that eighteen years have passed since the war that stole my sister from me. Or maybe it's that I'm looking forward to who's here now, who's experiencing this holiday with me, who I get to share this day with and witness their enthusiasm.

My daughter.

I never thought, in a million years, I'd have a child of my own. I never thought once that she'd come to exist, that I'd feel safe enough or strong enough or brave enough, to bear bringing something to delicate, something so wonderful and precious and breakable, into this world.

But she has lit up my life in ways I didn't even imagine possible. I thought I was happy, blissfully happy most days, with Peeta. And I was. But that was before I saw what life was like with Indigo and now I can't even picture how miserable and downcast this day would be without her.

As the sky begins to darken outside and Peeta stands up to light candles along the windowsills while Kanon adds logs to the fireplace, my child suddenly starts squirming in her seat. "Can I decorate the tree now?" She asks as I wipe her face with a cloth napkin.

"In a minute, Bean."

"I want to now!" She whines as I scrub the leftover food that didn't make her mouth off her cheek.

"Indigofera," Peeta says in a warning tone.

"I wanna decorate the tree right now," she says in a slightly quieter voice.

"Okay," I murmur, smiling slightly as I drop my hand from her face and let her go. "Go decorate, Sweetie."

With my consent, she practically flies out of her chair and—nearly knocking Evie over—pushes her way to the bag of ornaments Finn brought from Four.

"She didn't get a nap today," I explain to Johanna and my mother, who watched the almost tantrum unfold.

"You were the same," my mother replies and then chuckles. I toss her a look, before I spot Finn lifting Indigo up to place a trident high upon the tree.

My eyes aren't perfect but from where I'm sitting I can make out the name Finnick Odair gracefully carved underneath and my gaze falls on Annie.

She offers me a knowing smile and shrugs. "He wanted to handmake the ornaments himself. Meaningful ones you can't just buy. I wasn't going to discourage him."

I nod, a feeling of pride for some strange reason flooding me. I didn't raise Finn. The indefinite length of my sentence to Twelve was never revisited and, in truth, I had little reason to care enough to fight it. But it did mean I wasn't able to make it to Four, to see my mom or Annie and Finn at my own whim.

But Annie has always made a point to come here, every so often since the war ended. She's written letters and called and sent photos, consistently, for so many years that I've lost track. They were both here the day after I had Indigo. They've never missed any of our birthdays. And I've watched that boy, with his father's tan skin, bronze hair and sea green eyes grow into a man who'd make Finnick proud.

And it's nearly impossible for me not to feel so sort of pride in him as well. If for nothing else, the way he treats my daughter. Always patient, always kind, always ready to play.

"Where'd he get this idea?" I ask, if for no other reason, just to change the subject before I get visibly sentimental. "To decorate a tree, I mean."

Annie's expression shifts and changes slightly. "Coral McGonigill."

Johanna's ears almost noticeably perk up. "Is she is his new flavor of the month?"

"Well, she's lasted for several months," Annie corrects, but doesn't seem too enthusiastic of this girl.

"Do you like her?" I ask, my brow furrowing. I don't even want to imagine my child dating. The idea of her spending time alone, with anyone I don't personally know already drives me nearly to the brink of insanity, but to add in teenage impulses and hormones? My skin is crawling at the thought and I feel a wave of nausea come over me suddenly.

Before Annie can answer though, Haymitch is cutting into the conversation.

"Look at you guys," I hear him guffaw over my shoulder. "Gossiping like old ladies."

Jo throws her fork in his direction, barely missing her target. His left eye and cheek. "Hey, hey, hey," Haymitch bellows now. "Not in front of the children."

"I agree with Haymitch," Delly calls from behind the tree, where she's helping Kendall hang up a pink squirrel ornament.

"Of course you do," Johanna mumbles, loud enough only I can hear, and I have to repress a laugh.

All levity though slips away from my features as I watch Finn hand my child a new ornament. I feel Annie's eyes on me, apprehensive and a little fearful.

The ornament is an angel. It has blonde hair and blue eyes and my sister's exact nose and mouth. She's wearing a skirt and blouse, both pure white, to perfectly match the halo floating above her head. But the skirt is untucked in the back, giving her a duck tail, and it's this fact that registers in my brain. It's this fact that makes me realize that the ornament is Prim, even before I read the name sprawled across the bottom.

Peeta's staring at me now too, but it's my mother that grasps my hand. Our eyes barely meet for a second but we both understand what the other one is thinking.

She should be here. She should be helping decorate the tree. She should be playing with my daughter, who she'd surely love.

But she isn't. Because someone I trusted may or may not have built bombs that killed her. Because a vindictive woman thought that killing her and dozens of other children was the only way to win. Because I was too stupid for too long and didn't see what the real plan was, even as it sat right under my nose.

But she can be here now. If there's anything I learned from Indigo, it's that someone can exist, even in a small part, inside another person. It's that life doesn't have to end at death, as long as someone is around to remember them.

"That's a beautiful ornament, Finn," I say, as evenly and as kindly as I can.

He takes my other hand, his eyes sweet and gentle. "I made it for you. I thought..."

I nod, even though he doesn't finish his sentence. "I know. Thank you."

My mom keeps hold of my palm underneath the table for minutes after everyone else has moved, and even with the issues that still lie between us, I give her fingers a squeeze. Because she's the only one who really understands my grief.

I watch on as the kids decorate the entire tree, top to bottom, with shaped ornaments, ranging from plants to flower to boats to berries to pastries. And a loaf of bread, which Peeta finds particularly funny.

At the end though, all that's left is a large star, clearly meant to sit at the top of the tree. "What is this?" Evie asks Delly, turning it over in her hand.

"That goes on top of the tree," Annie explains, gesturing to the point of the pine near the ceiling.

"How do we get up there?" Rhys asks, stealing the star from his sister, his little eyes confused. "Daddy isn't even that tall."

"Someone's gotta lift us up to the top," Kendall states, munching on something I hope came from her dinner plate and not the floor.

"My daddy can lift me up there!" Indigo suddenly exclaims and reaches her grabby little hands for the star.

Rhys, however, jerks it out of reach automatically. "Why do you get to do it?"

"It's her house," Delly chides her son sternly.

"And she's the youngest, Rhys," Evie says, in a tone that clearly imitates her mother. "Give her the star."

He does so reluctantly and I'm glad that moment passed by quickly, before I had the chance to tell Rhys—as much as I care for him, and I do, deeply—that he better give my kid her star.

I don't even care that this isn't my tradition to start with. My house, my rules. My kid puts the star on the tree, end of story.

"Daddy!" Indigo squeals as Peeta scoops her up in his waiting arms. "Lift me," she commands, holding the large tree-topper with both hands.

Kanon and Haymitch start directing her, as her little eyes can't see to the top, even with Peeta lifting her as high as humanly possible. But when she gets it into place, she grows so excited that her limbs start flailing.

"Look, Daddy! I did that!" She says once he has her on his hip again, pointing to the star she just placed.

"I saw," he enthuses, brushing back the long, dark hair that's almost entirely out of her braid. "You did good!"

And if I thought my heart was melting before, with Finn and Indigo, it explodes when Indigo puts her tiny hands on Peeta's face and turns him towards her. "I love you, Daddy."

His eyes are awed and grateful, as this was all he wanted for years. For years upon years, he remained patient and understanding when I said I wasn't able to give him a child. When I explained all my reasons to why I didn't want a family. He always was respectful of my wishes and of my feelings.

But I saw it in his bright blue eyes, the ones he passed down to our daughter. He wanted a child so badly. He wanted this, this love that Indigo so easily has to offer, that we effortlessly shower her in.

It took me fifteen years to realize that perhaps I wanted it too. Perhaps my fear was overshadowing me from what I truly wanted. Perhaps it was better to have a child and do everything to keep her safe, to fret and worry in addition to love and adore her, rather than to never know that kind of love at all.

"I love you too, Indigo Sky," he murmurs back softly, before she leans in and kisses him.

I feel my mom squeeze my hand again and I know it's not out of sorrow this time, but out of joy. Joy that her child was able to have a family full of so much love. A family so similar to the one she had decades ago.

I squeeze her hand back, feeling horrific now for how angry I was with her for so long. I don't know who I'd be or what I'd do if someone took Peeta or Indigo from me.

"I think Mommy needs to admire the tree," Peeta says, eyeing me conspicuously.

I stand up, looking at the decorations admiringly. Of course, this tree was mainly decorated by young children, so the majority of ornaments gravitate towards the bottom or are clumped into one place, but still, I tell Indigo how pretty it looks and how good of a job she did.

My eye still catches on the Primrose Everdeen angel, hanging right in the center of the tree, and I have to force myself to refrain from tracing the face on it. The details are even more impressive up close and I wonder if Finn has become an artist or if his girlfriend is the talented one.

Just as I'm about to say something, anything really, to take my mind off my deceased sister, a meaty smell fills the air and my stomach lurches without warning.

I propel myself towards the kitchen sink and lose majority of what I just consumed at dinner.

Behind me, I hear a small commotion. Peeta telling Indigo to go to Finn, Delly and Kanon keeping their kids back, Annie and Johanna saying something to Haymitch.

My mom's hand comes in contact with my cheek, feeling my face and pushing the hair that fell from my braid back behind my shoulder. "What happened?"

As I'm about to answer, Peeta comes up to stand on my other side, one hand subtly turning on the water to flush out the sink, while the other rubs my back soothingly.

"I don't know," I croak, as puking always makes my throat raw. "I just smelled something like meat-"

"Told you it was Haymitch's fault," Jo cuts in, clearly speaking to Annie.

"I only asked if this bird was still good," the old, paunchy man defends himself, holding up some game I shot a while back.

"Well, if it makes Katniss throw up just by smelling it, I'd say no," Finn says.

"You don't have a fever," my mother notes, but her eyes are still confused. Though, I will say, not as worried as I thought they might be and for that I'm glad. The last thing I wish to do is ruin everyone's holiday, especially when I've only just started to enjoy this festivity in the last few years.

"I'm fine," I insist, pulling away from both my mother and my husband and wiping my mouth on a cloth quickly. "Seriously, I'm fine."

"Okay, but still sit down," I hear Delly say and I roll my eyes but do so anyways. Because I'm genuinely tired, not because anyone told me to.

"I'm fine, Indigo," I promise when I spot my daughter's scared eyes, still being held in Finn's arms. "I'm just tired."

Peeta follows me to the couch and, even though I wish to refuse out of embarrassment, when he offers me a fizzy water and starts subtly massaging my back, I can't help but lean my head into his chest gratefully.

I still fight the urge to fall asleep right there though. I still conjure up as much willpower as I can to stay alert, to watch Indigo and Kendall play with their stuffed toys, to listen to Finn and Haymitch shoot smart remarks back and forth, to listen to Annie and Jo catch up or my mother and Delly share stories of their vastly different lives.

By the end of the night though, when it's way past all of our bedtimes, as people start to filter out, planning on catching the late night train or taking a shortcut to their houses here in Twelve, my eyelids begin to involuntarily droop.

"You can sleep," Peeta whispers against my forehead. "I'll take care of everything else."

I want to turn down his offer, to say I can help clean up and put Indigo to bed. But when the last of our guests dissipate and Indigo, exhausted herself, climbs into my lap and curls up against me, I lose the battle and doze off right there on the couch.

Hours must pass, because when my eyes crack open again, the flames in the fireplace have been put out, the entire kitchen and living room are clean, and my child is missing.

Of course, those are the first words out of my mouth. "Where's Indigo?"

"I tucked her in. She's in her own bed tonight," Peeta promises, pulling my arm up to wrap around his neck. "I told you I'd take care of everything."

"You didn't have to..." I mumble sleepily as he lifts me up against him.

"Shhh, just go to sleep," he whispers, his lips pressing against my neck then collarbone. "Just rest, Katniss."

When I wake up again, the sun has already risen in the sky. Thankfully though, my child hasn't yet.

Peeta is alert already, propped up on his elbow, when I open my eyes. "Hey," I rasp, my voice not working yet.

"Hey, beautiful," he greets softly and I roll my eyes at the compliment. I do appreciate hearing it though, despite the years we've been together and how some things can lose effect over time. Peeta's little comments and gestures still haven't. They still mean more to me than I'd ever admit.

Now that I'm fully awake, I feel a small bit of embarrassment creeping back in. "Sorry about last night."

His blonde brows twist with confusion. "You mean getting sick? I don't think that's anything for you to be sorry about, Katniss."

"It was just strange," I note, more to myself than to him. "I just smelled the meat Haymitch found and for some reason, my gag reflex couldn't handle it."

The look that crosses his eyes is sly and reserved and I must still be a little foggy from exhaustion, because it's a rare time where I don't understand what he must be thinking.

He changes the subject abruptly anyway. "Did you have a good time yesterday?" He asks kindly.

"Yes," I reply, maybe a little begrudgingly. Considering for years I complained that I hated this newfound holiday, it is both a joy and a joke to Peeta that I look forward to this day now.

"Good," he replies and kisses my forehead, then my mouth warmly. "I like it when my wife is happy."

"Your wife is always happy when she's with you."

He moves back a little to smirk. "Me too."

I can't help teasing him though. "You're always happy when you're with you too?"

"Yes, Katniss, that's exactly what I meant."

I lean up then and kiss him again, this time with more passion. It's a real testament to our marriage that he can still conjure up butterflies in my lower stomach, after almost two decades since we had our first kiss-our first real kiss-in that cave.

"Thank you," I whisper softly as we break apart.

His eyes flicker lightly with confusion. "For what, Sweetheart?"

"For everything. For Indigo and the life we have. For the last eighteen years," I profess, genuinely. Words have always been difficult for me, and they still don't flow at the slightest slip of my tongue, but it's easier now. It's easier with Peeta, just the two of us, and the strong foundation in which our relationship and life is built upon.

Words for him, however, have always come as easy as breathing. "You have made my life so wonderful," he murmurs and tenderly kisses my lips one more time. "Thank you."

Weeks later, the source of my mysterious illness, my nausea and exhaustion, is discovered when we find out I'm pregnant again.

[prorevenge]

Depth form the grave, a story of money.

My grandma told me this story recently about how her brother got his ass kicked from the grave.

Sorry for the bad English, I do not write it very well and I have dislexia. So sorry if I butch the text.

So this is the scenario: My grandma comes from a family of 5, 4 girls, 1 boy.

My great-grandfather (Henk) was ecstatic with the boy, we will call him Jack.

One more important thing is that my great-grandfather ran a very successful company that made high-end clothing and bathroom silks/towels/bathrobes. He made a fortune with his company and made sure everyone who worked for the company got his fair share.

He also looked after the family, all his children got a education, all his children got the chance to get their driver's license. It was in the 1960s so it was a big deal back then, they were the first in my home time with a car, radio and tv.

My great-grandfather treated everyone equal , that changed when his first and only son was born, he already had 4 girls and now finally a son. The road map was laid out for him, he would be the heir to his company.

So began the upbringing of Jack, he was let's say a kid with a mouth. This wasn't bad perse, the thing was that his father allowed it. Jack got kicked from his first school, jack got caught for shoplifting, Jack got kicked from his second school, Jack got caught joyriding and so on and so on.

Henk did not sit Jack down and told him the severity of his actions but he would shrug it and tell his wife(great-grandmother) Anna that it were just childhood quirks. Anna tried to make something out of Jack but it was a lost cause.

Jack became 18 and Henk decided that it was the time too introduce him into the company, the company did better than ever and the whole family was involved.

Jack began at the bottom of the ladder and had to work his way up, this is were Jack began to "shine". With shine my grandmother meant that her brother was not a bright light at school but he was a hard worker and had a nose for business, not so much for people.

Jack was being a ass as per usual and got married to his first Karen, his first wife was a, Karen . She wanted to start her own company and her Father in law Henk wanted to retire. She pushed Jack to take over quickly and push the rest of the family out, Jack listent to her and talked to his father how he was ready and how his sisters and their husbands were tearing the company apart if they would stay in their leadership roles.

The thing was that only one daughter an son in law were involved in the company at this point(1980). My grandmother oversaw the seamstresses and the quality department , and my grandfather oversaw the financial and the supplier's. Karen wanted full control and started a little fire in the family, she spread a rumor that grandfather stole from the company.

I do not know what transpired but in the end my great-grandfather bought out all the family and Jack bought out great-grandfather. The company was Jack and Karen's company now and things went tits up pretty quickly. Seamstresses quited, bills were not paid and Jack had to take a loan from great-grandfather. The family company was barely scraping by and Karen left Jack because he could not provide for him. It became apparent that Jack could not make it work and was looking for a way out . After a while great-grandfather had seen enough and bought back the remnants of his company and sold it too a bigger company that wanted to expand. This made the wealth he amesed even bigger, he did set up different banking accounts for his children and said that if someone was in need they could take money form that account.

He told Jack his cut was smaller as he was the reason he sold the company and that he was let down by the carelessness his son had run his company into the ground. Jack was angry and told his father that he could had make it work if he had more time. It remained a sour point between the two of them

Things went well for a while but Jack married a second time with a women named Helen, Helen like Karen wanted her own business. Jack agreed and took money from the account in order to start Helens company. The business was a little barbershop and ran pretty well, they were spending their money on luxury and did not save anny money.

After a while my grandmother got a call from her little brother Jack if he could store some good in her garage. My grandfather did not trust Jack and told him No and grandmother did not agree but they agreed to it. A few weeks later Jack got caught for "possession of stolen goods and drugs smuggling". It was not a surprise but none the less a let down for my great-grandfather Henk, this time he would not help Jack and told him that he would no longer stand behind him.

After a few years Jack got out and was again a divorced men, he married again and divorce another 3 times and each time he gave these women a business and live lavishly, new cars, big House's, expensive vacations.

He drained his money and robbed his emergency bank account dry, he loaned a lot of money from great-grandfather and soo on.

In 2013 great-grandfather befell ill , it was clear that he was not gonna make it and took his final days in stride. At this time Jack became very buddy buddy and started to help great-grandfather sell some stuff, at some point my grandmother sat down with her father and asked him were the money went for the sold stuff and great-grandfather told her not to worry about it, he took care of it in his will.

After his 95 birthday he passed away quite and in peace.

After her funeral they all went too listen to the will of their father, all except Jack who had given a power of attorney to my grandmother to sign the will in his place. All the children get their fair share but at the end the notary public tells them to signe the papers and the inheritance is completely theirs.

At some point my grandma called my dad, she has inherited some collateral papers, all sorts of papers that stated that someone owned my great-grandfather money. My father said that she has to call a lawyers office to get the money from these papers.

A few days after this call to the lawyers office my grandmother gets a call from her brother, why was she taking his money from the inheritance. My grandmother tells him she has inherited some collateral papers and that she wants too get the money from them. Jack was furious and told her that that was illegal.

Jack was wrong, great-grandfather had documented every penny his son had loaned from him and constructed his will in such a way that the rest of his children could get that part of their money from there money drain of a brother. Also great-grandfather found out Jack stole from him. You see Jack was putting the money he made from the sold stuff on his own banking account instead of giving it to his Father.

After this ordeal Jack has not contacted my grandmother or his sisters, he has since then paid everything back and has never seen a penny from his inheritance. Great-grandfather has confided in a letter why he did this, he was done with his son, all the lying , the careless things he had done to his company, all the money he had blown and not taking any responsibility. He gave his final lesson to his son from the grave.

(source) story by (/u/IAmWeasel93)

[adashelbysgirlfriend]

Polly’s Daughter - Headcannon

request ; Hey! Would you consider making headcanons for being Polly's lost daughter and how she would react to the daughter just appearing one day telling her that they just told Polly that she's dead to keep her away? And how Polly would react and treat her afterwards + how the rest of the family would? 💜

i think this is a genius idea tbh; mainly because i refuse to believe in a world where Anna Gray isn't alive. I just need Polly to be happy? i don't think thats asking too much. So yer, thank you for this - you've fuelled my domestic fantasy where Polly has a full family and is never sad again. This one also hits hard for me because my mum was adopted as a baby, and I've always grown up wondering who my biological grandma is - so however you are and wherever you are granny i hope youre rocking on and having a good old time!

i kinda wrote this from like the readers point of view? i don't know why i just liked the flow better that way. Anyway, i hope you like it! and NEVER hesitate to send in a Polly related request because i ADORE the woman. Iconic. 

i feel like she’d grow up dreaming of a your mum coming to find you 

because you were a few years older than 

but with every birthday and Christmas without so much as a card, it would kinda harden you into hating Polly for leaving you like that 

being moved to Australia and completely giving up on her ever trying to find you 

trying really hard to not repeat your mothers mistakes

being as responsible as possible

finally ending up with a family that keeps you around long enough for you to build up some sort of trust system and being a second mum to their other kids

you'd found out your mother was looking for you and freaked the fuck out

shock turned into anger

the woman who left you, didn't love you like any decent mother would, now wanted to meet you on her terms

absolutely not 

no way

especially when you heard that the Tommy Shelby of Small Heath was the one putting feelers out for you 

but being brought up in the care system (or lack there of it) had made your mind somewhat deviant and street smart 

you also knew quite a few undesirable members of society, some of which had a level of power

it wasn't hard for them to formulate a fake paper trail 

and just like that, Anna Gray was officially dead

you stayed in Australia but never felt settled again after that 

as you got older, became an adult, the earlier anger turned into hurt

why had she left you?

why did she want you back?

i feel like these emotions would brew for a while but it would take a personal event to make you finally snap and want to go find Polly

you’ve always been careful with sleeping with men and not becoming a mum yourself so young but like you end up a month late for your period and are convinced   you’re pregnant

queue storm of Angst 

never feeling so close to understanding your mums decision as this

you go to the doctors and you aren't, but it sticks with you

or maybe its just when you have to leave your new family and move out alone, you realise how hard it is to be by yourself in the big city and also how much you need family

you go to Birmingham a month later

youre SHIT scared

and not just because youre well aware of the status your mothers family has

massive fear of rejection 

youre well aware of the time thats passed in-between her looking for you and you actually showing up

 what if she doesn't want to see you anymore?

what if she does but youre just not what she expected and she doesn't want to know you?

standing on her doorstep for like a good half hour before knocking

which alerts the boys that something fishy is going on 

her coming to the door and you just standing there like a lemon with no clue what to say even though you've been literally planning this moment for as long as you can remember 

finally getting the words out and making Polly the speechless one

she definitely doesn't fully believe you 

she wants too, with her whole heart, but she doesn't think its possible for you to be alive so she thinks its some sick joke by one of their enemies 

she definitely slaps you

you slap her back obviously 

she's crying and shouting and you’re crying and shouting

everyones confused

Tommy and John coming out to break up whatever going on

“who Tommy?! who would send some whore and have them to pretend to be my Anna?”

“Oh IM the whore? who left who? i can't believe i even bothered coming all this way, all you've ever been is a disappointment, i wish i was dead so i never had to meet you “

Tommy and John feeling like they are watching Polly fight with Polly 

“Pol, its her” 

“How! How can i be her Tom?!”

“Just look at her Pol” 

“Holy shit Pol, its definitely her” - John ever so eloquently adding in his two cent 

ending up inside with Polly

the lads being nervous to leave you two together just incase you fight again but her sending them away

as soon as you start talking instead of shouting, she can take a proper look at you 

and bOY do you look like her

it makes her feel warm and violently sick all in one

she probably actually has to excuse herself to vomit

she just needs to hold you 

its a bit uncomfortable and awkward at first but then it all hits you at once and you can't stop yourself from sobbing 

she's sobbing too 

fuck me man everyones sobbing tbh

just sitting like that for hours, until you have no more tears to cry

“well lass, you’re far too skinny” 

feeding you 

drawing you a bath

putting the fire on for you 

making sure she sets up a bed for you so you’re comfortable and i don't mean calling the maid in to do it, she wants to do it by hand so she knows its perfect

it taking a long time for you to trust her fully 

but Polly literally doing everything she can to show you she will always regret losing you that day

finding out it wasn't her fault

“I didn't want to lose you, you or Michael, they took you away but i never ever stopped loving you. I thought about you every morning when i woke up and every night before i went to sleep, even after i thought you were gone’

meeting the boys properly 

Tommy is cautious of you at first, not wanting to see Polly hurt but he grows to trust you and love you in his own nonchalant  way 

John and you being a comedy double act, you get his respect from day one for straight up fighting Polly fucking Gray in the street, and everyone else enjoys seeing him be torn apart by your humour 

Arthur sees you as his little sister, would protect you with him whole life

Michael doesn't really remember you that well, but you grow to become siblings again

Ada has you over for sleepovers at least once a week, and youre even trusted to look after little Karl for her, she loves you and is the big sister you never thought you needed, but she also respects you for what you've been through and is always checking in and making sure youre okay and reminding you that youre part of a family now

Finn is probably the first ti accept you because its Finn guys, what an angel we STAN 

it definitely takes a while, but youre glad of the day you stepped foot on Polly doorstep

and none of them can imagine life without you now.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

In Corners

Calum never though he’d be a dad like this. But when it comes to his daughter, he’s always in her corner. Always and forever. 

What happens when you put together H’s love for angst+ Single!Dad Calum+ Coming Out?

This. This is the product. 

CW: Mentions of Death and health issues. Coming out. Some slight mentions of homophobia. Anxiety. 

Enjoy my masterlist

Feel free to support me on Kofi.

****No one has my permission to post this fic, including translations. Copyright be-ready-when-i-say-go, 2020.******

_________________________________

Calum shouldn’t have sat down. That is his mistake. He figures he wouldn’t fall asleep. Not this fast, of course. That will always be false hope. That will always be him giving himself too much credit. If he sat down too long without anything to do, especially in the comfy single seater, it would be game over for him. He has an hour before he has to pick up Ariyana from Elizabeth’s house. He dropped her off earlier in the afternoon and said he’d be back to get her before dinner time. 

And after running errands, first to get groceries, then take the dogs to the vet, and be home for the cable company, all Calum really wants is a nap. Just a quick one. That’s all it’ll be. Half an hour and then he can head out to get her. The both of them can decide what to get for dinner, if they’re going to cook or if they’ll give in and order a veggie pizza. There’s nothing like just sitting with a couple boxes of pizza and piling plates with maybe a slice too many and dancing from the counter to the kitchen table to keep any slice from sliding off. 

He feels his head fall forward on his neck and he snaps up. It takes him a moment, realizing he’s slumped down in the living room. Glancing up at the clock, he’s half an hour late. “Shit,” he exclaims, bolting up from the seat, grabbing his keys and wallet. The door is a slamming thud behind him and his keys jingle as he works to get the right one in his fingers.  

Inside the car, he pulls up Ari’s number and sets the phone into the hook on the air vent so he can drive and have both hands free. It rings and rings. Just as the back tires hit asphalt, she picks up. “Fell asleep again didn’t you, Dad?”

“I keep telling you that seat has some sort of magic in it. I’m on my way.”

She laughs. In the background, Calum can hear Elizabeth’s mother, her voice soft and sweet. “He’s on his way. Thanks, Mrs. Banks,” Ariyana says. “Want me to call in the veggie pizza?”

“Please. I’m sorry, baby girl. Should’ve set an alarm on my phone.”

“It’s alright, Dad. I lost track of time too. I’ll call it in.”

“Love you. Thanks.”

“Of course. Love you too.” 

It still blows Calum’s mind that for the last fourteen years it’s been just Ariyana and him, and somehow he’s managed to do the whole Dad thing well. Ariyana isn’t his kid, an apparent fact when she stands next to him at the grocery stores when they go shopping together or when they go out to the movies, on the rare occasions that Ariyana doesn’t think Calum’s lame. Her much darker than his own, almost like her skin swallowed up the night sky. 

But he wouldn’t trade it in for the world. Even though it meant he lost one of his best friends along the way, complications post-birth seemed to just linger and linger on until they unfortunately claimed Ariyana’s mother, Jazmyne. But both her and Calum knew things were going south fast. They both knew that one day would be her last and when Jazymyne told Calum that no matter what happened to her, she wanted him to take care of her baby, he agreed without hesitation. Ari was close to a year old when her mother died, leaving Calum to the wilds of parenthood alone. 

He was there for everything before that. When Ariyana first kicked in the womb. When the doctors let visitors in, he was the first to hold her. He watched her crawl for the first time, attempting to keep up with Duke who was shockingly good with a baby. Maybe it was because they were kindred spirits. All he did was sleep and eat all day and Ariyana as a baby did the same. He has so many pictures of Ari and Duke at his place on the couch, fast asleep, when Jazmyne had doctor’s appointments or whenever she was just too physically tired to do much of anything. Calum always kept his doors opened. He loved, and still loves, Ariyana, so there was never a problem when he got to watch her for a couple hours. 

Ariyana had a game she liked to play, especially when she was being put down for a nap, where when she finally could support her upper half, she would hide her face in Calum’s chest and then push up. He would kiss her forehead or cheek and she’d giggle before hiding her face again. It would go for ten minutes, a cycle of their version of peekaboo and kisses until sleep finally overtook her right there on his chest and Calum would be left, hearing the echo of her sweet giggle, the way only a baby can laugh, with one hand on her back, keeping her secure to his body.

Calum feels the tears filling his lower lashes and tries not to think too much about how much Ariyana has grown up since then. How at almost 25, he became a dad to the sweetest kid in the world. And it might not have been under circumstances that he would’ve liked, or ones that he would’ve expected, but he couldn’t deny the blessing Ariyana was in his life. So how much complaining could Calum really do?

Turning the corner onto the block, Calum can see Ariyana and Elizabeth standing on the front porch, huddled together. And almost, as the sounds of his tires rolling over of the street, are fire, they jump apart. Elizabeth falls into the swing and starts rocking as if she were doing it the entire time. Calum knows. He suspected it long before when suddenly Ari talked about Elizabeth all the time. They stayed after school a lot, on homework as the excuse. But Calum never pushed it. 

Instead, Calum parks. He opens his door just as the front door opens and Elizabeth’s mom steps out waving. “Thank you again, Jodie,” Calum calls out as he stands behind the opened driver side door. 

“Anytime. You know Ariyana’s welcome over literally whenever. Maybe next week, girls, we can do that candle thing I was showing you guys.”

“Mom,” Elizabeth groans. 

“What? It looks fun,” Jodie defends. It’s easy to see the relation between the two of them. Elizabeth getting her mother’s dark and wild curls. “You guys said you wanted something to do the next time you hung out? I figured what’s to lose by learning how to make candles?”

“Yeah, but they’re in those elementary school milk cartons.”

Jodie shakes her head. Her gaze lands on Calum and they both share a knowing look before Jodie turns back to Elizabeth, hands up and palms out. “Well, think about it then. Maybe we can find some other craft. Doesn’t have to be candles.”

Both girls are glancing at each other, communicating something and Calum has a good idea what it is. But with a small wave and smile, Ariyana steps down from the porch and over to the passenger side of Calum’s SUV. They both climb inside, doors closing at the same time. “Pizza should be done by the time we get there,” Ari says, sliding the seatbelt across her. 

“Cool. Tomorrow, I’ll cook.”

“You mean, tomorrow you’ll attempt to cook but I’ll have a take out place on standby.”

“My cooking’s gotten better over the years.”

“I’ll give you that,” she laughs. Then falls silent, mostly car rides are full of her talking about her day, asking questions, making terrible puns about the street names. But now, she fiddles with her phone, staring out of the window as the world passes by them. And she questions for a brief moment if they are passing the world by. Because it feels like it, as she sits next to her dad. 

Ariyana knows about her mother dying, she knows about Calum adopting her because of her mother’s wishes. She’s grateful for it. She can’t imagine what her life would be like if it weren’t for Calum, if she wound up with someone else, if she wound up with her grandmother, who lived back in the South. Calum never kept her family out of her life, but it’s always a question that plagues her. What would her life be like if things had been different? What would she be like if her grandmother took her in? Would her grandmother dress her up every Sunday like she did to her mother? Would she be eating oatmeal in the mornings with bacon on the side and just on the other side of the kitchen table a Bible would sit? 

She’s not sure why her mother didn’t leave her to her grandmother. Though she’s asked Calum several times, he never really answers it. Her grandmother never treated her badly. When she spent the summers at her house, running through the neighborhood with the other kids, and they scrambled to be inside doors or on porch steps as the streetlights came on, her grandmother would always be waiting, hands on her hips, with a shake of her head. ‘Cutting it close, like you gunnin for trouble,’ her grandmother would always say. 

But on the table would be her plate for dinner. Her aunts and uncle would always hook her up with the latest sneakers. Ariyana learned how to walk not to put creases in her shoes. She spent many nights sitting in her mother’s childhood room, cleaning sneakers with toothbrushes. She stared up at peeling wallpaper, feeling the soft pressure of reassuring hands on her shoulders. No one else would be in the room with her. 

And Calum never sheltered her from any of that. He took really good care of her and she never felt like she couldn’t tell him anything. She never felt like there was a disconnect. Until now. Because in her soul, deep in her gut, she knows that she wouldn’t have to worry about this with her mother. Her mother would just get her. There was nothing else in the world besides a mother’s love. Or maybe Ariyana just yearned for her mother right now that it made it seem like that. Maybe all she wants right now is that soothing touch, like when Grandma’s worn leathery palms would cup her cheeks and every ache was soothed. Every worry was squashed in just one touch. 

“I’ll be right back. Don’t drive away now,” Calum teases, sliding out of the truck. 

Ariyana finally notices that they’re pulled up right in front of the doors of the pizza shop. She nods, glancing over to Calum. Does he know? Is he going to flip? She hopes he wouldn’t. Ariyana hopes that the track record of telling Calum major news proves accurate for future reactions. Like shockingly, he didn’t flip a lid when she was near failing trig. Mostly because she was too busy passing notes to Elizabeth. But she covered that up by saying the teacher just taught it in a confusing manner and Calum asked her if she wanted a tutor. That was all. He encouraged her that she could always try the subject again in the summer or maybe again once school started, but he didn’t give her a spill about how failing classes would never get her into college, or never help her make a living in the world. 

But almost failing trig and having to tell him this, the truth, admitting that even she’s not sure about the label--that could never compare. 

The car door opens and Calum slides the pizza onto the floor to keep it safe. Just as he gets into the driver seat, Ariyana speaks. “Can we go visit Mom? Like after dinner or whenever it really works?”

Calum nods. “We can go right now if you want. I have blankets in the back. Make it a picnic.”

“Those are the dogs blankets but sure, they’ll suffice.”

“Hey, now, the dogs don’t complain about those nice soft blankets.” He says it on the shot to make her laugh. He can tell something in weighing on her mind. That’s not his Ariyana but sometimes things are just hard to express verbally. He gets that. 

“They lack the ability too. So…” she laughs, watching as Calum makes a dramatic show of rolling his eyes and sighing. 

The smell of cheese and marinara sauce fills the car. There’s not even the radio playing. Calum lets her have control most of the time. According to her, all he ever plays are the throwback jams. Though occasionally in her shuffle she slips in one of the songs he’s mentioned or played before. She only puts the ‘good ones’ on though, her exact phrasing when Calum brought it up once. 

Upon arriving at the cemetery, Calum pauses, watching Ariyana slip out of the car. She skirts around to the trunk, pulling out the blankets. “Trunk water?” she asks, referring the case of water Calum keeps in the trunk. Mostly for emergencies and because he’s had a case always on hand. 

“I got it,” Calum returns as he grabs the pizza. He wants to ask if everything is okay. If there’s anything he needs to do, or anything she wants him to do, but he’s not sure if the question warrants verbalization. Something is not okay. Something is going on. Though he doesn’t want to push her at the same time. 

Walking over the grass, Calum doesn’t even take note of the headstones that lead their way. Most of the time he does. Most of the time he hates coming here. He never really thought he would’ve griefed a major loss in his twenties. He didn’t think life would be that cruel to him. Yet it had. Yet, he buried her six feet deep, let the oak be a barrier between her flesh and whatever creatures lived in the dirt. But this whole row, the plot they had to pick out together while Ariyana was still much too young, still a babbling baby on one of their hips. Calum can’t remember anymore the specifics. 

This whole trek though shows him he’s not alone. Many others have had those same feelings. Many others have cried a flood of tears before him and he can only hope those that cry for him don’t feel too burdened. He hopes that they know his life began and had to end too. It’s at the plot as Ariyana starts to unfold the blanket that Calum wonders if she wants to go to stay with her grandmother. Before she spent a lot of summers there because Calum had to go for a tour, but even during her Christmas breaks, she asked to go more often. Because he has to leave during the school year too sometimes, Ariyana stays with Luke’s wife and their kids. It works out, never find the fact that they have to make it work. 

“Do you want to live with your grandmother, Ari?”

Ariyana looks over to Calum, her brows pulled in together in confusion. “Did you nap so hard, Dad, that you lost your marbles? I love Grandma Gigi. But no, I don’t want to live with her.”

“I just--you’ve been quiet. Like something’s wrong. And I didn’t--I didn’t want you thinking that you couldn’t talk to me about whatever it is that’s going on. I know it’s not easy when I have to travel so many months at a time. But like, if you wanted something more stable, I don’t fault you. I wouldn’t be mad.”

Their blankets are straightened out and Ariyana places her arms under the boxes. “It’s crazy, yeah. But let’s be real. I have like four rooms at this point, one at every uncle’s house. Birthdays are like, insane when we all get together to have a party. And I like it, just us. Besides you don’t flip like Grandma Gigi about curfew. Though her cooking is better.” She sees Calum’s faux offense and quickly adds on, “But I do love you. You taught me how to ride a bike. You’re there to help me study when I can’t decode Shakespeare. You paid for me to learn how to fail at tap dancing.”

“You were getting better, sweetheart.”

“I was awful, Dad. And you taught me how to play football and helped me make junior varsity. There’s no one else that could’ve done all that.”

“You were an easy baby. A difficult teen. But an easy baby.”

“I won’t take offense at you calling me difficult. For now. It might come back up in other later arguments.”

Calum laughs, nodding his head towards the ground. “Believe me, I expect it.”

They finally sit, the pizza still warm as they take their first bites. Ariyana really asked to come out here because maybe she could tell Calum without actually having to say it. Maybe her mother would give her strength even beyond the grave. It would be like, coming out to both the people she cared about the most, at the same time. She wouldn’t have to do this over, and over, and over. Except her uncles of course. 

Grandma Gigi is going to be a whole other battle. That will have to be a battle she’ll have to fight when it comes up. Right now, she has to tell Calum. With nothing but crust in her fingers, she looks over to Calum. “Dad,” she starts. She’s never called him anything other than that, though she knows he’s not her biological father. She’s never known him as anything other than that. She’s never known him as anyone that would freak, or stop loving her, or shun her for anything. 

“What’s up, baby girl?” If Ariyana doesn’t want to move in with her grandmother, Calum’s at a loss. He just wants her to be happy. And healthy, of course, too. But seeing her torn up like this makes his gut constrict. He’s only been able to stomach one slice thus far. 

“Have you ever known you were different? Not like you suspected or you were guessing. But you just knew.”

It clicks. Like the switch of a light being turned on, Calum gets it. He exhales, reaching for another slice of pizza. “Well,” he starts, holding the slice on his fingers as he chews over the right words. He stares down at Jazmyne’s headstone. What do I tell her? You’d be so much better at this. He doesn’t want to start out with the ‘whole everyone’s different’ thing. It feels contrived, like he’s trying to weigh his own struggles against hers. All he wants to do, at a moment like this, is let her know he’s listening. He’s picking up the clues. “There’s nothing wrong with different, ya know? Different is good.”

“You don’t think different is like, wrong? Like, there’s a ‘normal’ that everyone’s used too. And different is scary. But is it wrong, ya know?”

There’s no use in trying to beat around the bush anymore. Calum swallows down his bite of pizza resting it on the cardboard box on the side where none of the other slices rest. He looks over at her, as she picks at the dog fur coating her black jeans. “Who you love or find attractive isn’t wrong. It may be different from what others expect of you or what others deem is right. I don’t care who you love. I love different. I accept different. I respect different and that means I love you; I accept you. And it also means I respect you too.”

Almost like a popped balloon Ariyana sighs. All the tension from her shoulders drop. “Was it that obvious?”

“I know when someone’s smitten when I see it.”

There’s a moment, where they both sit, watching the setting sun. Ari’s glad that it went well. That she doesn’t have to hide or fear anything. “You didn’t even let me say it, though,” she points out. “Like, I had this whole speech prepared and everything!”

Calum laughs. “Okay, let’s redo.”

“No, it’s too late now,” she huffs, holding her arms across her chest. Her laughter is bubbling in her chest and escapes her in tufts. “But, in all honesty, thanks. For understanding. I was kinda scared.”

Calum nods. “I understand. But I don’t want you to be afraid of telling me things. I’m always in your corner, Ariyana. Always and forever.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

With empty boxes collected and the blankets folded back up, Ariyana looks down at her mother’s gravestone. “I hope you understand, Mom. Love you.” The car ride is DJ’ed, like usual, Ariyana’s playlist and things are easy again. 

It’s about a week later as Ariyana gathers her books from the dining room table for school, when she notices a tiny pride flag pinned to the front pouch of her backpack. She didn’t buy that. Not even in her venture to the mall with Elizabeth last Saturday and they stopped at a small kiosk that was selling a bunch of pins. Elizabeth bought one, if she remembered correctly. But not her. 

“Ready to go, Ari?”

“Dad, did I buy that pin?” she asks, pointing to her brown canvas bag. 

“If it’s too much, you don’t have to leave it there. But I know you’re into pins now.” That explains it. He bought and pinned it there. And if she knows anything, inside will be a bottle of orange juice and some candy, in case she needs the sugar boost during the day. She hates that he does it, but as of late, she’s needed then more and more. 

“When’s my doctor’s appointment again?”

“Tomorrow, Tuesday. 1:30. I’ll be there to get you before your lunch time.”

“I’m going to miss trig.”

“You mean you’re going to miss Elizabeth,” Calum corrects, shouldering the loaded up backpack. 

“No, I’m failing trig, not failing in my relationship.”

“Smart ass,” he laughs as they shuffle out of the door. “C’mon. You’ve got a test first period and you’re not being late as an excuse.”

“Oh, c’mon, Dad. It’s World History. I can ace it in my sleep.” 

It’s true, but still, he’s not going to risk it. Ariyana plays with her phone, mostly texting but Calum’s not shocked. When his stops in the parking lot, the buses are already lined up and unloading. Ariyana grabs her bag, but not before leaning across the console and kissing Calum on his cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Kick ass on that test. Don’t be afraid to go to the nurse’s office or call me if you feel another dizzy spell, okay?”

“I won’t.”

“Tell Elizabeth I said hi, alright?” 

Ariyana can’t stop the smile as she shuts the door. The window already rolled down. “You love having that power, don’t you?”

Calum laughs, leaning forward into the steering wheel but not pressing down on the horn. “C’mon your pops has to have a little fun, ya know.” 

She rolls her eyes, wishing she could seriously be upset. But instead, all there is is elation. She calls out another ‘love you’ and then starts towards the front doors. Right on the curb is Elizabeth, waiting for her. Their embrace is quick and they shuffle inside, hand in hand. There’s a moment, where there’s a small pause, Ari showing off the pin and Calum can only grin watching them. “You’re probably already seeing this Jaz. But God, she’s growing up fast. Her first girlfriend. Like, fuck, I’m getting old. So old, but I hope you’re proud. I hope she’s everything you wanted in a daughter. I hope I’m doing you proud.”

Calum knows he’s been watching too long when the buses start to leave. But part of him is worried. Afraid that he’ll pull out of the parking lot and she’ll wind up in the nurse's office waiting for him to rush to get her. He’s worried that he’s going to pull off and when he comes back she’s going to graduate. It might be her second year in high school but it already feels like with every blink she keeps growing up. He can’t stop her. He can’t keep her as that babbling baby on his chest who’d laugh at the raspberries on her cheeks. 

It’s on the drive back home, when there’s no music, no laughing from his right. When it’s just him and the road and the breeze floating in that he feels something on his cheek. It’s warm for a quick moment, even tinkles, and then gone. It’s not a bug, not some stray piece of hair. It encompassed his whole cheek and he thinks it was Jazmyne, cupping his cheek, like she always did before she’d pinched his cheeks. It never failed to annoy him. 

A tear slips from his eye. At the last red light before turning into his neighborhood, he doesn’t stop the ones that overflow the waterlines of his eyes. “I know you’re there.”

Tagging: @5-secondsofcolor @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles

[sistersofthelightforce]

Facing Facts: The Mother

Anakin never asks about bringing his mother back. He’s not sure he could face her and tell her exactly what he’s done.

He would love to see her again, would love for her to meet her grandchildren.

Anakin watches Padme spar with Luke one day, and accidentally hitting him on the arm too hard. Luke cries out in pain and Padme immediately drops her saber, running over to him.

“Luke!” Padme kneels down next to him. “Where does it hurt?”

“I’m fine, Mother, really,” Luke reassures her. They can both see him gripping the side of his arm.

“Does it hurt here?” Padme gestures to where Luke is gripping.

Luke nods stiffly. “I’ll be fine, Mother, it’s nothing.”

“Let me see it.” Padme pries Luke’s hand off of his arm. There is a deep gash in his arm, and it must be stinging. “Oh Luke, here.” Padme places her hand on the gash, and when she lifts it, the wound is gone.

“Thank you,” Luke murmurs.

Padme cups the side of her son’s face tenderly. “If anything hurts, you tell me, and I can make it better.” None of them point out that Luke is an adult, or that he can look after himself. Padme never got to raise her children in peace, and now she wishes to make up for that.

Padme loves her children desperately, and no one would dare to take that from her.

Luke leans into her hand and smiles. “Thank you, Mother.”

Anakin watches Padme embrace her son and kiss his forehead. It reminds him so painfully of his mother that it hurts, and Anakin has to turn away.

Anakin misses his mother so much but he could never look her in the eyes and call her “Mom” knowing all the blood he has on his hands.

He’s started doing weekly “meditation sessions” with Queen Karee (please, if I can call you Anakin, you can call me Karee) now.

They’re not like meditation sessions back at the temple, sitting still and trying to become a part of the force. It’s so different. Sometimes they talk, often they do sit down (but never sitting still. Karee is incapable of that). It feels like, instead of trying to be a part of the force, walking alongside it, being a companion to it instead of being a servant to it.

“Tell me about your mother,” Karee demands one day, when they’d been sitting in silence for a few minutes. Karee had told him once before “talking about something is meditation because it lets everything you’re feeling out into the force.”

Anakin looks over at her sharply. “Why?” He knows that he can ask why, and she’ll tell him why. Karee is nothing if not honest.

“Because I know she was important to you, and I know family is important to you. So tell me about her,” Karee explains. He understands then. He’s seen her with Master Unduli, he knows that family is important to Karee, who has a kid and adores her two younger siblings.

“Well, when I was really young, it was just me and her. I was all she had and I know she did everything she could to give me the best.” Anakin chuckles lightly. “She’d always encourage me to play with the other kids, get away from my tinkering. But she’d always cover me when I accidentally took a part that was important to Watto.”

“You have a lot of happy memories with her then?” Karee asks warmly.

“Well, obviously not all of them were happy, we were slaves after all. But Watto never beat us too often, and I was too young when we were owned by Gardulla to remember much.” He looks over at Karee, who he knows understands. She was a slave herself, as a child.

“But you always knew you could be sold off at any point,” Karee mused.

“Exactly,” Anakin replies. “I know she was always terrified I’d be sold. But when the Jedi came along, told her of my potential, she thought that was where I’d belong.”

Karee looks at him gently. “Do you resent her for that?”

Anakin rapidly shakes his head. “No.” But then he thinks for a moment. “I don’t resent her for it. After Ahsoka left the Order, I was devastated, but I knew it was what she had to do. I imagine sending me away devastated her too, but she thought it was the best life she could give me.”

“I heard she was freed, and got married.” Karee studies him, watching his reaction carefully.

“I would have been delighted to hear that in literally any other circumstances, but I was fearing for her life and wanting to save her,” Anakin retorts, his voice sharp.

“My apologies, Anakin. I should have been more sensitive.” Karee looks genuinely sorry, which surprises him. She’s usually quite an off-handed person when it comes to saying something harsh.

“I suppose you want me to talk about what happened to her, and what I did afterwards,” Anakin mutters.

“Only if you want to. I won’t push you,” Karee says firmly. He knows she knows about the raider village. Padme probably told her at some point.

“I kind of regret it now, not as much as I feel like I should. But everything just hurt so much and I decided they had to pay. So I killed them all. I still hear their cries now,” he admits.

“I understand,” Karee replies softly. “I understand the anger. I doubt I would have killed them, but I certainly wouldn’t have let them get away with it.”

Anakin wonders if that moment was the start of his fall. Maybe if he’d talked to the council asked for help-

“Stop that,” Karee interrupts.

“What?” Anakin has no clue what she’s talking about.

“Stop the what-ifs. You cannot undo the past, only make up for it. And I’d say you’re doing your best,” Karee tries to reassure him. It doesn’t work.

“Why didn’t you punish me?” Anakin asks abruptly.

It’s silent for a moment.

“Don’t you understand, Anakin?” Karee replies quietly. “This is your punishment.”

“How? How is having my kids, my brother, my wife, having all of this, my punishment?” Anakin demands, not understanding at all.

“What happened the first time you saw Ahsoka again?” Karee asks.

“She ran away.” Anakin doesn’t understand how this is relevant.

“And when you saw Obi-Wan?” Karee says as if repeating something obvious.

“I begged him for forgiveness, and he said he couldn’t give it to me,” Anakin replies.

“And when you saw Padme?” Karee repeats.

“She stormed out, refused to even look at me-oh.” He gets it now, he thinks.

“The best way to punish you, Anakin, was to make you face the consequences of your actions. You had to face those destroyed bonds, and had to face that the people you love hated you. You had to become a better person for them, Anakin, and that was the best way to punish you.” Karee looks more serious than he’s ever seen her, and he once again sees the wise young leader she’s had to be.

Anakin is ready, a long while later. Karee can sense it, he’s sure, because she approaches him quietly one afternoon after a mission debriefing.

“If you like, your family can take you to Tatooine?” She offers quietly. “There will be rooms ready when you get back.”

“Yes. Please,” Anakin replies. “Thank you, thank you Karee.”

Karee smiles, and places a hand on his shoulder. “It’s no problem, Anakin.”

When Anakin returns to his rooms, his family are already there waiting for him.

Padme grabs his arm. “Let’s go, Ani.”

He doesn’t understand when they end up in the middle of a sand dune, his family appearing right behind him.

“What are we doing here?” Anakin asks quietly.

“I know this place, my Uncle Owen told me about it. It used to be a Tusken Village, then one day everyone in it was just suddenly dead,” Luke says from behind him.

Anakin looks over at Padme in both shock and horror.

“There’s something you have to do first, Anakin.” Padme holds out her hand and kneels, her other hand reaching out into the sand.

Anakin takes her hand and kneels down beside her.

“Reach out into the force, and find as many life forces as you can find. Treat them like threads, and pull them back,” Padme instructs. He can feel Ahsoka and Obi-Wan reaching out behind them. He assumes Luke and Leia aren’t trained enough in the force to help.

He does as he’s told, and he can feel the threads. He reaches out and pulls them, feeling someone help him pull them. He can’t tell who it is, but he feels their love for him, and that’s enough.

“Open your eyes, Anakin,” Padme murmurs quietly.

Anakin opens his eyes.

The village is visible again, and the inhabitants are standing once more. The villagers shriek at him threateningly.

“And with that, let’s go” Padme grabs his arm and suddenly they’re by his mom’s grave.

Luke stares at the house, and he sees Obi-Wan step over and put an arm around his shoulders.

Padme kneels down by the grave and puts Anakin’s hand on the stone. “She’s there for you, just reach out.”

Anakin reaches out, and, yes, he can feel his mother’s thread. Padme helps him grab it and pull.

When he’s certain they’ve brought her back, he still doesn’t open his eyes.

“Ani?” His mother’s voice makes him feel like he’s going to collapse.

When he finally opens his eyes, his mom is kneeling next to him, that familiar worried love in her eyes.

“Mom.” He leans forward and sobs into his mother’s arms like a child.

It feels so wonderful to be held by his mother again, feel her hush and soothe him.

When he’s finally done crying, he pulls them both up and smiles, wiping his eyes.

“Oh!” His face lights up. “This is my family.”

Anakin turns around and gestures to Ahsoka. “This is my eldest daughter, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka waves shyly, and Mom smiles warmly. “Lovely to meet you, Ahsoka,” Mom says kindly.

“And these are the twins, Luke and Leia.” Anakin gestures to the twins. Leia waves and Luke steps forward.

“Grandma Shmi, it’s wonderful to finally meet you,” he says shyly, and Anakin almost pulls his son into a bear hug, but Mom beats him to it.

When Luke steps back, Anakin gestures to Padme. “This is my wife, Padme.”

Padme nods her head graciously. “Wonderful to see you again.”

Mom looks between the two of them. “Oh! How wonderful!”

Padme beams and Anakin smiles.

Then he turns to Obi-Wan, who had taken a step back at some point. He pulls his brother forward and smiles. “And this is my brother, Obi-Wan. He taught me pretty much everything I know.”

Obi-Wan looks over at him with a little shock (and a little of something Anakin can’t describe), then smiles and holds out a hand to Mom. “Lovely to meet you. I assure you I was not the one who taught him his reckless flying skills.”

Mom laughs and shakes Obi-Wan’s hand. “Of that, I am certain. No one has ever been quite as reckless as my Ani.”

“Except maybe Snips over there,” Anakin quips, and Ahsoka laughs.

“No, you definitely win that title, Dad.” Ahsoka comes over and leans on him, and Anakin wraps an arm around her.

Anakin sees Luke say something quietly to Obi-Wan, who gently taps Padme on the shoulder.

“We have some more people to bring back, it seems,” Obi-Wan declares.

Everyone looks to Luke.

“Could we please bring back Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru and Grandpa Cliegg?” Luke asks quietly.

“Of course!” Padme springs into action, Ahsoka dashing to be by her side.

The next moment, Owen, Beru and Cliegg Lars are in front of them. They run to Shmi, hugging her, and then Anakin goes through the same introductions all over again.

Anakin tries not to wonder how the kriff he’s supposed to tell his mother what he's done.

The moment comes a lot later, when he’s having one of his bad days. Someone had yelled at him in the street, told him he should be imprisoned.

He’s sitting in his chambers, trying to calm himself down. He just wants one day where some stranger on the street doesn’t look at him like Vader.

He understands why, of course. Anakin knows he probably ruined many people on Iith’s lives. Most of them are those killed by the Empire, seeking refuge until the Sisters can be declared to the world.

He probably put his saber right through some of them.

Anakin’s practising the breathing techniques he’s seen Padme use with Ahsoka when Mom comes in.

“Ani?” She asks, sitting behind him.

“Mom, Mom, I’m so sorry. I’m-I-” He leans on her, taking shuddering breaths.

“Ani, whatever do you have to be sorry for?” Mom inquires gently.

He looks up at her and shakes his head. “So much, Mom, too much.”

Anakin tells her everything, and her face doesn’t change, not when he tells her about the younglings, or about leaving Ahsoka on Malachor. Not until he tells her about saving Luke on the second Death Star. Then, she smiles.

“I’m gonna be better Mom, I’m gonna make up for it, I swear.” Anakin doesn’t even realise he’s crying until Mom reaches out and wipes away his tears.

“Anakin,” Mom says firmly. “I know you. I know you are doing everything in your power to make up for what you’ve done.”

“I am Mom, I am,” he promises.

“Exactly. I’ve seen you with your family. If you can make it up to them, you can make it up to anyone.” She holds out her arms. “Come here.”

Anakin falls into her arms and shudders.

“You’re getting better, Ani. And they’ll help you. We’ll help you,” Mom reassures him.

End of series

[rachelkaser]

Stay Golden Sunday: On Golden Girls

Blanche’s rebellious grandson visits, and the Girls help straighten him out. Also, we get more information about St. Olaf.

Picture it...

Blanche is upset and a wreck -- and not, as Dorothy initially assumes, because she has cellulite. Her daughter Janet is attempting to fix her ailing marriage with a second honeymoon to Hawaii, and Blanche will have to look after 14-year-old grandson, David, for two weeks. Dorothy initially grouses about having a teenager in the house while she’s studying for a French exam, but they all agree to help Blanche look after David, including taking him to see Rambo.

SOPHIA: I sat through it twice, you’ll love it. He sweats like a pig and doesn’t put his shirt on.

The next day, the girls prepare for David’s arrival, while Sophia complains about having to put up with Dorothy snoring. Blanche comes home in a panic, saying David never got off the plane. A police officer arrives with David moments later and says he stowed away on the plane while it went onto the Bahamas. David talks to the girls for a grand total of two minutes before skipping out to go hang out a burger joint, despite Blanche’s pleas for him to stay. Sophia says Blanche should have smacked him for his disrespect, but Dorothy thinks the St. Olaf story Rose was about to tell would be punishment enough.

At night, Dorothy is trying to study while Sophia goes about her very noisy toilette (which for some reason involves patting Nivea onto the backs of her hands and immediately scrubbing it off with tissues). Dorothy can’t study with the noise, so both of them turn in for the night. They argue over the amount of topical ointments Sophia’s wearing, and the hacking sounds she makes as she’s sleeping. Dorothy reminisces about how she would crawl into bed with Sophia when she was a kid and had a nightmare. They bid a fond goodnight and finally settle down.

Suddenly, loud music booms through the house, waking everyone up. They run to the living room, where David and a few other teenagers are listening to rock music on a stereo. Dorothy sends the strangers on their way and tells David to clean up. David starts to throw what can best be described as a hissy fit over not being able to have his new friends over, and starts to mouth off to all of the girls. As soon as he gets into Sophia’s face, she lands his with a resounding slap. This quickly shuts him up and sends him running from the room.

Blanche goes to check on David, who’s still reeling from Sophia’s smack. He says he wants to go home, and when Blanche tells them he can’t because his parents aren’t there, David says it’s no different from when his parents are there. He breaks down and tells Blanche how his parents neglect him because they’re always fighting, and angrily rebuffs Blanche’s attempts to comfort him.

The next day, the girls give Blanche a collected list of chores David can start doing. Blanche isn’t sure how it’ll help, but Rose and Dorothy talk about how the chores they did growing up gave them a sense of responsibility. Blanche realizes the way she raised Janet -- not having to do anything, just as she was raised -- may have contributed to David’s current behavior, and decides she’s going to make up for these mistakes by doing what’s best for him.

ROSE: Did they have chores in Sicily? SOPHIA: Are you kidding? They invented chores in Sicily. Crossing the street without getting pregnant was a chore in Sicily. DOROTHY: Rose, never mention Sicily.

One night, Dorothy catches David trying to sneak out and asks him where he intends to go and what he’s going to do. David doesn’t have an answer, but protests all the work he has to do. Dorothy accuses him of wimping out and says life is going to get a lot tougher than some chores at his grandmother’s house. David finally opens up and talks about how upset he is. Dorothy reminds him that he’s surrounded by people who care about him and he’ll always be welcome, good-naturedly negotiating a chore exchange and cheering him up.

Some time later, the girls are having dinner with David, celebrating Dorothy passing her French exam. They also toast David’s improved attitude. He says that it “hasn’t been half-bad” and earnestly asks the girls to let him live with them permanently. Sophia hustles him out for ice cream and tells Blanche to call his mother. Blanche gets Janet on the phone and says David’s so happy at her home that she’s going to keep him. While we can’t hear Janet, she naturally protests. Blanche acknowledges she can’t keep him against his parents’ will, but gives Janet a stern warning about the consequences of neglecting him further.

BLANCHE: If you and Michael don’t straighten up and given that boy the love and attention he deserves, I will kick your uppity butt ‘til Hell won’t have it again!

The girls say goodbye to David, who’s going to join his parents in Hawaii. Blanche tells him to give his parents a chance, and Dorothy reassures him that he’ll always have a place with them. After he’s gone, the girls hope he’ll be okay. Sophia, meanwhile, will be happy not having to live with Dorothy’s infamous snores anymore.

“What are you trying to do, pickle yourself so you’ll live to be 100?”

I’m swiftly going to run out of ways to say “this is the first time the girls do X” but it’s the first season, so there are a lot of first times. While this isn’t the first time we’ve seen the girls with one of their offspring, this is the first time we’ve seen them do some parenting and discuss parenting.

ROSE: I just fixed a special treat for David. It’s the same little afterschool snack I used to make for my own son: A triple-decker BLT, a hearty helping of homemade potato salad, and a great, big slice of double chocolate fudge cake. DOROTHY: Oh, where was he going after school? The electric chair?

It’s actually kind of heartbreaking that it’s in a case of child abuse that we get to see them show off their parenting skills -- but I do appreciate that they cut David some slack and get to the root of his issues. I think a lesser show would just have the rebellious teenager “learn something” from his grandma and her friends and shape up, but Blanche instead gets him to open up about the real problem, which is that his parents are too wrapped up in their own problems to take care of him -- not to mention, as Blanche keeps mentioning, his father’s a Yankee.

I mean, this poor kid is so emotionally starved he thinks his parents would be thrilled to get rid of him -- and that’s unambiguously shown to be their fault, not his. Dorothy’s little speech challenging him not to give up on the people who’re actually making an effort to help him is a believable exchange between a teenager and a teacher. Fun fact: Billy Jacoby, the actor who plays David, was 16 when this episode aired.)

While I know it couldn’t happen within the confines of the show, part of me wishes he really could live with Blanche and the girls. I’m not sure if it was not as common for kids to be raised by their grandparents in the late 80s, but it certainly wouldn’t be unusual today. Still, if anything, this is the first time we get an idea of how hands-off a parent Blanche was, and how much she’d like to make up for that -- that’s definitely something that’ll come up again later in the show. 

For what it’s worth, she strikes me as one of those people who’s a better grandparent than parent, but she does do some parenting in this episode: namely, her harsh correction of Janet, who’s too wrapped up in her own problems to take care of David. Blanche may not approve of Sophia’s more brutal forms of correction, but her going off on her daughter was no less impressive than that slap.

Now I’m gonna go on record to say I disapprove of hitting children. While I don’t have any of my own yet, I don’t believe children should be hit on the face or anywhere else as a punishment or preventative measure -- nor should anyone, if I’m being honest. However, I will say that I don’t think that’s what Sophia was doing. Her smack was more akin to when you slap someone who’s hysterical -- David was clearly whipping himself into a froth and any attempts to talk him down or intimidate him weren’t working, so Sophia administered a little… percussive intervention to bring him back down to earth.

Like Dorothy says later, it comes from a place of caring, and I think Sophia of all characters knows when something like that will help rather than hurt... melon baller notwithstanding. I do appreciate that Dorothy and Sophia’s interactions, both when they’re arguing and when they’re sharing fond memories, shows a healthy dynamic between parent and child to contrast what poor David is going through. There’s not much of a B-plot to this episode aside from Dorothy’s French exam, and much of it centers around the single scene of the two arguing in bed, but it’s by far the funniest scene in the whole episode.

Having watched all of the episodes up to this point -- and spending roughly a week over-analyzing each episode -- I think this is the first time we’ve ever gotten some true St. Olaf stories. Given that Blanche, Dorothy, and Sophia have their assigned “tasks” in the episode, the writers decided to give Rose the job of adding a little color and humor to the episode.

They do this by having Rose describe some stories from her home life on the farm, including Alice, the cow you had to milk while sitting on a stool -- as in, she sits on the stool. It’s our first indication that something isn’t quite right about the place where Rose comes from, though we only have her responsibilities as a child to go by. It’s not going to be the last time we hear about it, by a longshot, but it’s a great teaser of the sort of bizarro logic that St. Olaf runs on. And I really want to hear now what the heck happened to Alice that she had to sit on a stool.

By the way, the title is a reference to On Golden Pond, a film which also features a teenage boy bonding with grandparents -- and part of me wonders if this whole plot happened because they just couldn’t resist the reference to another well-known “Golden” thing.

Episode rating: 🍰🍰🍰 (three cheesecake slices out of five)

Best part of the episode:

BLANCHE: Is that all you Italians know how to do -- scream and hit? SOPHIA: No, we also know how to make love and sing opera.

[shadowthrone-ammanas]

Drabble request: Snatcher decides hes now mu's dad, buts shes kinda angsty and awful and she really doesnt want to have anything to do with him, so snatcher tries really hard to get her to trust him (I love your writing btw

Thank you for the request! I used this as an excuse to break out my ‘Mu is Snatcher and Vanessa’s great-granddaughter’ AU idea I came up with when I learned that Mu and Vanessa are voiced by the same person. I probably never would’ve gotten around to writing it on my own because it was going go be fairly long. This is really only the setup to it, minus what would’ve been the prologue, but it does lead to what is basically your request. I might try to do a disjointed continuation of this sometime in the future if I ever find the time because I really like this AU.

Great-Granddaughter

It might’ve just been a coincidence, probably was in fact, but the child currently trespassing into Subcon Forest looked almost exactly like an older version of Lucy. The most prominent difference was the mustache, implying at least one of her parents was from the island. But the resemblance was uncanny and made Snatcher uncomfortable.

If he didn’t know better, he’d suspect that maybe the kid was related to Lucy. But Lucy had been killed by Vanessa along with the entire kingdom. That bitch had certainly been crazy enough to kill her own daughter, especially since she’d wanted a boy so she could name him ‘Lukas’ after Snatcher’s real name. Her disappointment about getting a girl instead had led to Snatcher being Lucy’s primary caretaker. So Snatcher had always assumed, Vanessa had killed Lucy when she’d frozen the entire kingdom despite having no confirmation because what else could’ve happened?

So, the little girl in the red hood certainly couldn’t be related to Lucy in anyway despite the strong resemblance and fact that enough time had certainly passed for Lucy to have grown up and have kids of her own and for those kids to grow up and have children of their own. Besides, resemblances didn’t travel through the family that long. … Except sometimes they did because Vanessa had looked just like the portraits of her grandmother when she was young. Also, blond hair like that was royal lineage thing so maybe…

Nope, not possible. He wasn’t entertaining that idea anymore. It was a coincidence, a disconcerting one but nothing more. … But now Snatcher would have to eventually end up killing a child that looked similar to his long dead daughter, wasn’t that just peachy? Could he even bring himself to do that? … Only one way to find out.

She soon stepped into one of his traps. He let her squirm in the net a bit before dragging her into his pocket dimension, freeing her.

“AHAHAHAHA FOOOOOOOOOL!”

“That’s not scary,” the girl said with a scowl before he could say anything more. … What did she mean it ‘wasn’t scary’? It was very scary, that’s why he did it. “And neither is whatever this place is.” She gestured vaguely around her. “Purple fog is even less scary than a cliché haunted forest.”

“You’re lucky I’m in a generous mood today kid because otherwise I’d kill you for that.” Would he though? He’d never killed a kid before and even up close the resemblance to Lucy was still strong – not as strong but still just as undeniable – and he didn’t like it. “Though it’s less a generous mood and more a need for a new contractor to do my dirty work. The last one lost his head in an unfortunate accident. So instead of eating your soul and tossing you corpse into the swamp, I’ll offer you a job.” He snapped his fingers, making a contract and quill appear before her.

She frowned at it. … What would he do if she didn’t sign? He’d have to kill her, right? Because that’s what he did with people who refused to sign his contracts. But… would he be able to so with her? He’d have to kill her eventually anyway regardless for intruding into his forest but he wanted to put it off at least. Give him some damn time to get over how much she looked like his daughter.

After what felt like ages but was only seconds, she looked back up at him. “If I sign it and get rid of the fire spirits or whatever, will you let me continue to the manor?”

Treasure hunters had come into the forest, looking to loot the manor tons of times before but that’s not something children did, right? “Why would a child want to go to the manor? You’re aware it’s dangerous, right?”

“I don’t care. My grandma said she’s from there, that she was royalty or something. So I’ve inherited the crown and the money and all the stuff and I need it for something. Don’t ask what it is because it’s none of your business. Now, if I do this,” she pointed to the contract, “because you’re too lazy to deal with your own damn pests, will you let me go to the manor without bothering me anymore?”

Snatcher struggled to keep a straight face. “Uh… sure.” Anything to get her to go away right now because what the fuck?

With a huff, the girl signed the contract. It automatically disappeared in a puff of smoke. Snatcher snatched up her soul, “For safe keeping,” he said before dropping her from his pocket dimension like a hot potato before she could even try to say anything.

He summoned the contract back to read her signature. ‘Mu’. There was no way that could be her real name, right? Not that it mattered, she could’ve signed with a scribble and it would count because the contract was magic. So it wasn’t something to be concerned about.

Nope, instead he was concerned about what she’d said about her supposed grandmother. Either Mu herself or her grandma had made the story up. Which, didn’t matter because either way it was a lie, possibly based off the fact Mu looked like she had Subcon royal blood in her so presumably her elders might too.

It was all just a big coincidence and he didn’t like it. There was no way Mu was his great-granddaughter, it just wasn’t possible. … It wouldn’t hurt to look into a little more though, right? Just to rule it out completely. After he did that, he’d carry on with things like normal, treat her like any other contractor. … What if she was his granddaughter though? What would he do then? … He’d figure that out if and only if that was the case. It probably wasn’t so it wasn’t something he needed truly consider.

For this request event.

[hardforbenhardy]

the perfect gift | benxfem!reader

summary: the first time ben is meeting your parents, and you are nervous. but not as nervous as you are to give ben his present

warnings: intense fluff so prepare yourself coz ben is a d o r a b l e in this

based on two prompts: "that's what your wearing?" and "i tested positive"

word count: 4.5k

thought i'd do a little christmassy themed oneshot considering it was ... yakno... christmas; it’s been in my drafts for a while so there’s no better time than the present (no pun intended😊) i had fun writing this so i hope you have fun reading it! :)

Christmas had always been the same; through the 27 years of your life, you stuck to your traditions. You would always spend the time with your whole family, with the traditional Christmas roast and gift-giving. You loved it; you were extremely close with all your family, and spending time with them was always cherished since it only happened twice a year. However, there was one part that you couldn't stand. The worst part of it all was the fact that every year you were the only adult who was yet to find a relationship. All your siblings, your parents, aunt and uncles, grandma and grandpa, even some of your older cousins; they were all coupled up. You had even tried to convince them one year that you had finally found yourself a man; of course, you had simply bribed your best friend to pretend to be your boyfriend for the one day. He, however, was not as good of an actor as you thought he would be - caving in after only 3 hours in the household by accidentally spilling that he was in fact gay.

Though, this year you didn't have to pretend; you had finally found a man who you truly loved. He was the spitting image of what you considered perfection and you were sure he was the one. You and Ben had taken your relationship quite quickly, you had only been together for 10 months and yet you had already moved into a house together and adopted a small puppy. Though, you didn't see it as a particularly bad thing; you knew for certain that he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, the man you wanted to start a family with, grow old with. And you were also pretty certain that you were that woman for him; I mean, that's what he told you every single day. Every morning as you sat around the table to eat your breakfast; every lunch time when you'd facetime him from the office; every evening when you were snuggling in bed and he just had to mention it, which of course often led to more. You were absolutely hooked onto him, like a baby to a bottle; you simply couldn't resist him. So showing him off to your family was assuredly what you were most looking forward to this Christmas. You had already met Ben's family, and so it was now his time.

The two of you were about to leave to drive down for Christmas Eve, and the nerves were beginning to set in; what if they didn't like Ben? What if they thought you were both moving too fast? What if the nieces and nephews didn't want to play with him? What if they all took one glance at Ben and thought he could do better? You saw Ben as an angel, but you didn't know about them; after all, your mother had always wanted the perfect step-son.  She had been pretty adamant about it from the start. Nevertheless, you brushed the nerves off and paid attention to curling your hair. Your concentration was broken, however, by the sight of Ben entering the bedroom in the reflection of the mirror in front of you. You grinned widely at the sight before you, or rather behind you, as the strapping blonde man strode in wearing what you noticed to be a rather formal suit considering the fact you were only attending a Christmas dinner with your family. In fact, it was extremely formal considering the fact you were only attending a Christmas dinner with your family; meaning you couldn't help but giggle.

"That's what your wearing? Baby, we're going to my parents for Christmas, not a wedding!"

"What? I wanted to impress them!" He exclaimed rather seriously, which made you chuckle before standing up off the little stool to walk towards him to give him a small peck on the cheek; which funnily made him blush like a madman. That was something you loved about Ben; he seemed like every day he saw you was as if he was seeing you for the first time again. Somedays, he acted like a horny teenager who couldn't resist your touch. Other days, he acted like you were made of glass, as if you were the most precious, fragile thing on the earth which led to being peppered with little kisses and hugs of every form whenever he saw you. And other days, he acted like he was made of glass, and would blush or smile every time you even placed a gentle finger on him; and you had a strong feeling, this was one of those days. "I mean, what if they don't like me, or they don't think I'm good enough for their daughter? What do we do then? Because I love you, I really really love you and I want to spend my whole life with you but I can't do that if your family doesn't like me because-“

"Baby, I know they're going to love you, okay. Maybe not as much as I do, but trust me; my mum is going to take one look at you and she'll treat you like the son she never had. You look gorgeous, and as much as I am admiring the way you look in this suit, you need to change. Swap the shirt and tie out for a tshirt, and the tapered pants for some of your nice jeans." you encourage him, stroking his upper arm lightly and smiling up at his face which looked extremely defeated. You could sense the anxiety emanating from his body, he was just as nervous to meet your parents as you were for them to meet him. But you didn't tell him that, because you didn't want to worry him anymore than he already was. He simply nodded, taking a deep breath and unsleeving his arms from the blazer so that he could unbutton his shirt. You pushed his hand out the way and did it yourself, after seeing the way his hands were pretty much shaking. He still preoccupied himself, beginning to pull his trousers off to fasten the pace, as he knew you needed to set off soon to make it in time.

Once he was dressed in more appropriate clothing, which you deemed suitable for a first impression, you were finally able to leave for your parents. The car journey over there was a little less stressful, as Ben had began to calm down and forget all about his little moment in the morning. However, as you stood outside your parent's house, your own nerves began to set in. You had arrived a lot later than you expected to, having been stuck in traffic for a lot of the journey. Your hand trembled as you went to ring the doorbell, Ben stood a step behind you so that your parents would be able to greet you first. The door swung open after a few seconds, revealing the bright cheery face of your mother.

"Darling, hello! It's lovely to see you! Come in, come in!" she cheered, stepping to the side to allow you and Ben to enter. You gave her a warm hug as you walked in, in which she responded with a small kiss to your temple. Your father entered the room too, a smile emerging on his face, and you couldn't help but laugh as you noticed the apron he was wearing; it was the same one he wore every single year, with an awful christmas pun which to be honest was not a suitable apron to wear around children.

"Mum! Dad! I've missed you so much! Sorry we were late - the traffic was awful" you squealed, pulling your dad in for a hug as well, until you looked to the side to see Ben standing there incredibly awkwardly as you greeted your parents. "Mum, Dad, I'd love for you to meet my boyfriend, Ben"

"It's nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs LN. Thank you for having me, especially during a time which is meant for spending time with family" He greeted, holding his hand out to shake my fathers, but rather he pulled Ben in for a hug. You then realised you had completely forgotten to mention to Ben quite how open and friendly your family were, meaning he had quite a shocked reaction to the sudden embrace.

"Please, call us Lydia and Michael. And you are part of this family Ben; any friend of YN's is a friend of ours, lovie. Now why don't the two of you head up to your room and settle down - that way, you'll be awake in time for tomorrow morning when the kids come up and completely wreck your lie-in!" Your mum whisper-yelled, chuckling as she handed your suitcases over to your dad to help you haul them up the flights of stairs to your old childhood room that you and Ben were planning to stay in for the next two nights. Admittedly, you were a bit embarrassed considering you knew your mother hadn't changed anything about your room since you were 18 and moved out to University, so you were in for an awkward and humiliating moment when Ben first saw the posters of Roger Taylor and Queen all over your wall like you were some kind of crazy fangirl. Which, of course, you were but you didn't even think about having to explain that until now.

After a good 10 minutes of Ben laughing at your seemingly-passionate devotion to the band, you had finally settled down in your bed, which was thankfully a double. It was rather cold, being wintertime, so you and Ben were cuddled up extremely close together under bundles of blankets in an attempt to keep some warmth between you. You spent a majority of your nights curled up like this, Ben's touch providing a haven for you. And just like every other night, you ended it with the same words.

"I told you they'd love you, you practically had my mum wrapped around your finger!" You grinned, poking Bens stomach jokingly as he released a low chuckle at your point. He knew you were right, because you had mentioned that your mother was often more removed from people if she didn't like them.

"Okay, okay; I was worried for nothing, I'll admit it! But I had every right to be!" He defended himself, his warm breath on your shoulder sending shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but cuddle closer, wrapping your arms around his torso and place your head in the nook of his shoulder.

"I know, I know; I really do love you Ben"

"I love you too"

*****

You were woken by the feeling of a small body pouncing onto your stomach, shouting and cheering filling the otherwise silent room; "Aunty Yn, Unca Bwen! Wake up! It's Christmas Day! And Santa's come!"

You chuckled, partly at your nieces urgency to get downstairs and open some presents, but mainly at Ben's low groan at being woken at 7 in the morning. Your heart softened at her reference to Ben being her Uncle, and not just a random man who had joined the family for the day. You urged the 4 year old to move off you so you could climb out of bed, grabbing the dressing gown screwed up in the floor and pushing your arms through the sleeves. "Lilah, give us 10 minutes and we'll be right down, okay?"

"Okay!" She squealed, wrapping her tiny arms around your legs before running off to shout to her brother Jackson that you'd be down in "twen" minutes.

"Baby, wake up" You whispered, shaking Bens arm lightly and kissing his forehead, only to hear him grunt and roll to face the other way. "Tired"

"So am I, but it's Christmas hun; come on, I want my presents!" You giggled, giving him a shove and jumping out of bed to tie the newly-clad gown. Ben pulled himself off the mattress and lugged over to the en-suite bathroom, mumbling that he was taking a quick shower before they head down. In the meanwhile, you busied yourself with helping your mum out in the kitchen to prepare Christmas dinner.

"Is Ben not joining us this morning?"

"He's just taking a quick shower, he'll be down soon" you explained, chopping the veg; you found yourself grinning at the mention of his name. Of course, your mother noticed this.

"You seem perfect for each other, you know. He seems like a very lovely lad too; your father and I are very happy you have found yourself someone" She smiled, elbowing your side a little which made you chuckle and grin widely; you were extremely happy that your parents actually accepted Ben into the family so unquestionably, and liked him. "So when can Michael and I expect more grandchildren!"

You saw the question coming; there was no doubt that your mother loved being a grandmother to Lilah and Jackson. But they were getting older now, Jackson being 7 and Lilah being 4, and Lydia desperately wanted a baby to care for. So, your next words came like a haven to her.

"What if I have reason to believe roughly 9 months?" You mumbled, placing your hand on your stomach and looking up at your mum with nervous eyes. Her own eyes widened in shock and happiness, taking in your words.

"You mean? You're pregnant?" She whispered, not wanting the rest of the house to hear. You nodded, worried your mother would think you and Ben were moving too fast, having only been together for roughly 10 months. "Darling, oh my gosh, that's amazing! I'm so happy! Does Ben know?"

"No not yet; in fact only you know. I was planning on telling him today, and the rest of the family, but I'm seriously beginning to second guess everything; what if Ben doesn't want the baby? I mean, we're not even married and Ben is always away for press tours and filming. What if he thinks we're moving too fast? I don't want to scare him away-" You stumbled, tears beginning to brim your eyes. Whether it was the hormones or your nerves you didn't know; but it was most likely a mixture of both. Your mother hushed you, rubbing your arm in a way to calm you down as she understood you tended to over worry about a lot; and of course, this is an extremely reasonable thing to worry about.

"Lovie, look; you will not scare Ben away. I see the look of lust in that boys eyes when he looks at you, and I can tell just how much he really loves you. This is a big thing, of course it is, but you need to tell Ben; whether you plan on keeping the child or not. He deserves to know, and if he turns you away then he was never a gentleman to begin with. You have this whole family to support you the whole way, but at the end of the day; it is both yours and Bens decision" She comforted, her words calming you a little as you realised she was right. You couldn't just not tell Ben, it was his child and you were a couple. And, to be completely honest, you were excited as hell to start a family with the man you considered the love of your life. The only reason you were hesitant with this was because you and Ben had literally never spoke about having children or starting a family, so you didn't have his opinion on the matter to fall back on. The moment between your mother and you was interrupted by the man himself, hugging you from behind and pressing a small kiss to your neck.

"Hiya love, everything okay?" He muttered, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you continue to chop the carrots as you were before the conversation with your mother. You hummed, leaning back into his touch, hoping he hadn't heard the previous conversation between you and your mother. You felt the smile on his lips against your skin, and he tucked his head into your neck.

"Why don't you go and meet my siblings huh? I'll be in in a few minutes, just finishing up with this" You suggested, to which he nodded and placed a small kiss to your temple, before walking into the living room to join your family. You could hear the loud voices of your older brother, Sam, and his wife greeting Ben from the other room, and painfully worried that Ben wouldn't get too nervous as your brother tended to be quite boisterous at times. In fact, your whole family did; which was extremely different to Ben's family who were much more calm and collected. Although by the sight you received entering the room a few minutes later, you were immediately filled with joy; the sight of Ben sat on the living room floor, cross legged, with Lilah on his lap and Jackson sat beside him, as he read them a story Lilah had begged him to. You were a little confused as to how he was getting on with them all so well; Lilah didn't usually warm up to people so well unless she had been properly introduced. And your mum was usually very judgemental of your boyfriends that you had brought home before. And your brother was often extremely protective over you. And your sister would most likely try to steal any guy you brought home and have him for herself.

You can't help but admire the way he is around the 2 children; it's as if he's done the whole parenting thing before. Lilah was smiling so widely, you thought her face was going to get permanently stuck like that. The two were amazingly engaged as he spoke the words on the page, acting out the story with little actions and different voices,  making sound effects when needed. Your brother's wife, Sophia, walked up to you with a small grin on her face before mumbling "You've got a good one there, don't ruin it" in your direction as she passed by to enter the kitchen. At the sight before you, you realised exactly how correct she was. You had got someone in your life who you could never lose; you'd be a fool to ruin what you and Ben had. So of course, you began second guessing telling him the news once again. If you told him the truth, he may leave and then you've lost him for good. But seeing just how well he was around the children and how engaged he was, you actually considered that this was a good idea.

The time came to finally exchange presents; no doubt after the children had nagged the adults for 20 minutes straight, asking "when can we open them?". The children spent the most time opening presents, getting excited after each one and showing it off to every single adult in the room. You were sat on the small armchair; well Ben was, and you were perched on his lap, an arm around his neck and head rested on his shoulder. You were admittedly beginning to grow impatient at telling Ben the news; as much as you didn't want to tell him, waiting to do it was becoming painful because it only gave you more time to re-evaluate your decision. Thankfully, your mother had finished giving everyone her gifts, so it was the end and you could give Ben his. You rushed out of the room to where your coat hung up, pulling out a small box that was wrapped in paper and had a bow placed on the top. Ben noticed the box and furrowed his brows, even more so when you went to hand it to him.

"YN, we agreed we weren't doing presents this year?" he questioned, hesitantly taking the box from your hand, almost as if he expected it to explode in his hand. You nodded your head a little, understanding his confusion. Honestly, you forgot that you had agreed to not give each other presents this year because you had spent quite a lot of money so far on your relationship, first buying the house and then investing in a pet.

"I-I know, but you wouldn't have got any other gifts, and I think you'll like this one" You mumbled, urging him to open it and trying to hide your nerves from Ben as you knew he had a strange talent of noticing when you were hesitant to do something. He was like a human radar; he knew when you were happy, sad, angry, nervous, excited. He had a mental notebook of all your habits for each emotion, so he could probably tell that you were absolutely bricking it right now. But you assumed that he just thought this because you were nervous he wouldn't like the gift; which you were, but he didn't realise why. He took his sweet time opening the present, unwrapping it slowly considering he had all eyes of the room on him at that moment, alongside the glare of a camera that your mother had pulled out in excitement of the moment. As he opened the flaps to the small cardboard box underneath the wrapping paper, his eyes widened and his whole body froze. You can't deny, so did yours. He slowly pulled out the small stick out of the shadows of the box to reveal two small pink lines on the small screen.

"A-are you... is this real?" he mumbled, looking up to meet your eyes. You saw the tears beginning to pool at the bottom of his eyes, and you saw a glint of happiness. You nodded, awaiting his reaction.

"I tested positive."

You didn't know if this was a good reaction or a bad one because he didn't really show much emotion on his face. That was until a giant smile stretched across his face and his hands dropped the box so that he could wrap his arms around you. It was rather sudden, but he took you into the tightest hug you'd ever felt; his head rested against your shoulder and you felt the tears of joy seeping into your jumper. You obviously hugged back, relieved that he was actually happy about this.

"I-I'm gonna be a dad? W-We're gonna be parents?" He continued questioning, unable to believe any of this was true because he didn't think contentment like this could exist. You could barely speak your own words, only having the ability to nod and cry as well as Ben.  The whole family was now cheering with you, Lilah jumping on your lap to give you the biggest hug she possibly could, exclaiming that she couldn't wait to have a little cousin she could play with. Well, you assumed that's what she said, considering most of her words were indistinguishable.

"I can't believe this, this is the best day of my fucking life. God, we're gonna be parents in 9 bloody months, love. I love you so much, and you too" he gushed, tears brimming in his eyes once again and also yours. He bent down and gently kissed your practically-non-existent bump as he whispered "and you too" and you couldn't help but admire how well he took the news; you certainly didn't expect this much of a reaction from him and you felt a little stupid for ever second guessing yourself. Of course, being the bundle of nerves Ben tended to be, started questioning everything; "How far along are you? Have you been feeling ill? Because I'm sorry if I haven't been much help to make you feel better but I don't recall hearing you being sick of anything in the mornings so I don't know-"

"Ben, I've been fine so far; I'm only a month along and I've only had two instances of morning sickness, both of which you weren't home for so you don't have to worry. I suppose I've felt a little under the weather recently but nothing that I couldn't cope with." You explained, which brought comfort to Ben as he knew you weren't suffering too much in the time being. Though, he had heard of how harsh pregnancy can be for some women and he prayed to the Lord that you would not be one of the small percentage.

*****

After finding out the exciting news, Ben had been non-stop protecting you like you were a piece of glass; not that he didn't before, he just did it a lot more intensely now. Every time you tried to sit down or stand up, he would help you so that you didn't 'strain your back'. Every time you went up the stairs, he would walk right behind you. Every time you yawned, he asked if you wanted to go to bed and insisted you had an early night so that you and 'bean' were well rested. Oh yes, and he had nicknamed the growing child 'bean'. You, thankfully, now found yourself wrapped up in the covers of your duvet after a long Christmas day and could not wait to fall asleep. Ben had jumped in beside you and cuddled close so that he could rest his hand on your stomach and head on your shoulder. You were so close to being asleep, until Ben decided to create conversation.

"You know, I thought your boobs had gotten bigger, but I didn't want to mention it in case you thought I was complaining" He mumbled into your neck, which woke you up immediately. You slapped his arm and chuckled loudly, making him wince in pain a little.

"They've also gotten a lot more sore so no touching. And alongside that, I constantly need to pee, very gassy and am continually getting mood swings; so good luck for the next 9 months because you're officially dating a zombie" you countered, making him chuckle gleefully. He didn't care how disgusting or gross you may have seen yourself; you were still beautiful to him and he was going to let you know that every day.

"A gorgeous zombie who I love very very much and is literally bringing my child into the world; with my help, of course." He smirked, making you roll your eyes because you completely understood what he meant by 'his help'.

"I'm so happy that your happy and I can't wait to have a family with the love of my life"

"And I can't wait either" He grinned, feeling happiness he had never felt before in his life. Now, all he had to do was propose; luckily, he'd been planning it all along

[amintyworld]

The Last Visit

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Characters: Marinette/Ladybug, Adrien/Chat Noir, Emma Agreste, Louis Agreste, Hugo Agreste, Daniel Agreste, Juliette Agreste, Nicky Agreste.

TW: Implied Major Character Deaths, Dying, Sickness. (Let me know if I missed any!)

Marinette breathed slowly as she lay on the bed, looking out the windows with a smile. The pure autumn breeze swept through her greying locks, and she closed her eyes for a moment. "Beautiful day, isn't it Adrien?"

The room was silent. "Yeah, I thought so you silly kitty." The wind whipped the older woman's hair back and forth. 

"You know Hugo's a fighter now, on the front lines? He sends me letters everyday, to make sure I'd never worry. You know how I worry, cat."

She paused. "Louis took up the bakery - hopeless romantic, that boy. Clumsy, too." Marinette laughed. "Emma's settled down, got married a few months after we got the letter. I… I know you wanted to be there."

The older woman took a breath.

"It's funny, you know. You left so quickly, yet I know you're still here. I guess you kept your promise, kitty." She swallowed. "I'm sorry that you've waited so long for me. But, I'll get to see you soon, you know. The doctors can only do so much about age." A tear slipped down her cheek. 

She wiped it away with her finger slowly as the hospital doors opened, and she shifted in her bed to better sit in it. A nurse gave her a small smile. "Visitors, Ms. Agreste."

A small child ran up, jumping on Marinette, throwing their small arms around her neck. "Grandma!"

"Nicky!" An older woman, with long golden hair and blue eyes scolded the little tyke. "Grandma Marinette can get hurt easier than we do. Be careful."

An older dark-skinned teen with black hair and green eyes entered quietly, hands inside her jean pockets awkwardly, staring toward the floor. After the girl filed in a dirty blond haired boy with an earbud in, texting on his phone. He looked up and smiled at his little brother as he awkwardly tried to hug carefully.

"Sorry we're a bit late, Mom."

"No worries at all, Emma. I know you're very busy these days." Marinette said, smiling warmly at her daughter, and helping the smaller toddler down from the hospital bed. "Goodness, you're getting so big!" She said to Nicky, making the toddler smile, a few of his teeth missing.

"Momma says that I'm getting so big, that I need new clothes soon!" The tyke said, smiling once more to his grandmother.

"Oh really?!" Marinette said, giving the toddler a warm smile. "Hey, you know what? I think that there's some ice cream in the kitchens. Why don't you guys go grab some and leave me and your Mom to chat for a bit. My treat." 

"No, Mom, it's okay. You don't have to-"

"I insist." Marinette said. 

The older brother, Daniel, took the twenty dollars from his grandmother and gave a smile. Marinette smiled. "Tell Melissa I sent you, alright?" She put a hand to the side of her mouth as she whispered. "You'll get hot fudge."

Nicky's eyes were wide, chanting as he left the room, his brother guiding him out with a chuckle, their sister tagging quickly behind. "Hot fudge, hot fudge, hot fudge, hot fudge!"

Once out of earshot, Emma let out a happy sigh. "You're really good at spoiling them."

"What can I say, it's a talent." Marinette laughed. "How's Hugo and Louis?"

"I haven't gotten any messages from Hugo in a few weeks, and Louis…" They both sighed in unison, saying the next part together: "...still in love with that barista."

Emma's face turned serious. "Sorry Elliot couldn't come today, he's just so busy…" She trailed off. "Mom, remember how you and Dad met? How, Dad was in love with Ladybug, and you were in love with Adrien?"

"Yes, of course." Marinette said, looking at her daughter's focused face.

"How did you know?"

"What?" Marinette asked.

"How did you know you were in love with Dad?" Emma asked.

Marinette breathed, thinking. "Well… there was something about… about the way he was. When we wore those masks, we were us, truly us. I always knew that your father would be there." She paused. "Even after I'd rejected him over and over, he was still the same. He was my partner, and he was also my friend." She reached up to touch her earrings. There was no need anymore - but she still wore them, just because she felt as if she took them off, she'd be losing a part of herself. 

"Even if I hated him, even if the world was falling before us, even if I had caused it - he wouldn't leave my side. After the reveal, everything just locked into place. He had always loved me, even when I didn't love him back." She smiled. "I realized that if I didn't have that, if I didn't have him - I wouldn't know what to do."

She sighed. "I would… I wouldn't be able to carry on without him."

Emma looked to her mother, smiling. "Like, he was a part of you, and if you took that part away, you'd never be the same again."

"Yes." Marinette said. "Is… is this about Elliot?"

"No…"

"Emma Elizabeth Argeste." Marinette said sternly.

"He's just been in the office a lot lately, and I've just missed him. It's… it's nothing."

Marinette smiled fondly, cupping her daughter's cheek in her hand. "Honey, if you miss him, if you feel like that part of you is missing - that's love." Marinette breathed in a bit deeply and coughed for a while, in a coughing fit that rattled her body.

"You alright, Mom?" Emma said, clearly concerned. 

"I'm fine." She said. "Just old."

"You know what Dad said about going off to fight - how he was fighting to make sure that you got to live to see so many amazing things, to watch me, Louis, and Hugo grow." Emma said. 

"Seems everything he wanted came true." Marinette smiled. "Did you bring the miracle box like I asked?"

The faded ladybug spotted oval container was plopped on her hospital bed table. She opened the top flap and took out the two familiar boxes. "There's something coming, Emma. People are going to need Ladybug and Chat Noir again."

"What?" Emma said. "But… But how? And more importantly, who?"

"I have some ideas." Marinette said. "Tikki!"

The red and black kwami rushed out of Marinette's purse quickly. "Tikki, I… It's time." 

"What? Marinette, no!" Tikki said. "You… you can't!"

"You need to go to your new miraculous holder." Marinette said. "A new Hawkmoth could emerge at any moment, and we need to be ready." 

"Marinette!" Tikki said, crying, flying to her master's side. "You were the best Ladybug I ever had."

Marinette smiled. "You were the best kwami I ever had. Promise to help the kid?"

"Of course." Tikki said.

"Look out for the doofus. He's…he's a bit of a mess, and, after changing schools - he needs a friend." Marinette said, Tikki's small head pressed against hers as she reached for her earrings. "Goodbye, Tikki."

"Goodbye, Marinette."

Marinette quickly took off the earrings as Tikki vanished into the box. She slowly set the earrings inside, closing the lid.

-------------------

"I won't be a good guardian, Mom! Please, pick someone, anyone else!" Emma cried.

"You will be a great guardian, Emma." Marinette said, holding her daughter's hand in her own. "Someone needs to look out for them, hm? I could think of no one better. They'll get over their heads - keep them safe, and keep them in line."

"But… but-" 

Marinette only smiled at her daughter. "You've got a pure heart and a good head on your shoulders. If Hawkmoth could be defeated once, he'll be defeated again. Find someone for the cat miraculous - good of heart, and kind - a sense of humor of course!" Marinette laughed. 

It seemed ages ago when she and Chat had finally recovered the miraculous, only to find it missing within a few days. It was a great tragedy, but Adrien had assured her they would get it back - all it took was to wait for the villain to appear again.

"I know that you can do this, Emma." Marinette said, cupping her daughter's cheek with a smile. "You are the best parts of your father and I - we're so proud of you. I'm sorry you have to work to fix my mistake, but I don't have much time left. I love you, and I believe in you." Marinette smiled, coughing for a bit before continuing, her voice extremely hoarse.

Marinette's smile was replaced with a stern look. "Now, go give that villian exactly what they deserve, okay? A nice smack to the side of the head would do nicely to knock some sense into those brains of theirs." Marinette said, making Emma giggle and smile.

"I promise, Mom."

"I love you, Emma." 

"I… I love you too, Mom."

-----------------

As the visit was ending, Marinette was walking the family to their car when she fell on purpose, knocking into Daniel as he caught her and she quickly slipped the earrings into his bag. She had to admit, it was a bit of deja vu for her as she remembered Fu doing the same thing to her not too long ago.

"Oof, I'm so sorry, must just be my hip." Marinette said. Her grandson gave her a smile. 

"Be careful, Grandma." Daniel called. "We don't want you to take a spill. You should go rest up that hip though."

"Will do, Danny." Marinette smiled. She couldn't help but see so much of herself in her grandson - the determination, nervousness, awkwardness, the hidden confidence behind his eyes.

As everyone was in the car and driving away, Marinette said a silent goodbyes to Plagg and Tikki. Emma had tucked the miracle box under some cloth and crochet yarn determined to keep her promise to her Mom.

That was the last time anyone had seen Marinette before she had passed away a few days later, still staring out the window, smiling. Her thoughts were only to Adrien, and she could swear she saw a bright light with Chat Noir holding his hand out, with the biggest smile. 

"My lady, you're finally here-"

[kate-sinclaire]

moving on (Levi x mc)

Book:
 Mother of the Year Pairing: 
(Levi x mc) (Jessica Day) Rating:
 Mature; ends with a sex scene.

TAGS: @furiouscloddonutpeanut

Summary: Jessica Day goes to clean up yet another mess left by her ex-husband after the confrontation between him and Levi. I won’t say more than that because that would be spoiling. Enjoy :)

Disclaimer: All characters minus my own belong to Pixelberry Studios. Jessica Day is primarily my own character, but she also has ties to PB as well. The image does not belong to me, it was found here.

Author’s Note: This takes place in Chapter 5 after the Levi and Guy confrontation. It literally broke my heart that MC didn’t stand up for him further or go talk to him afterward. So, here it is. I’m going to be making this a series, so the prequel to this chapter will be written next. Of course, this isn’t a canon scene, and the other ones that I’ll be writing likely won’t be, either.

--

Jessica stared at her ex-husband with what could only be described as pure hate. “What?” he asked, glancing at his girlfriend for support. She didn’t give it, but rather looked at Jessica with a soft amount of sympathy (which was almost worse).

“That wasn’t nice, Dad,” Zoey chimed in, smoothing out her dress self-consciously. “Levi is cool. He taught us how to make Ruga-aruga-roogo-” she paused and took in a breath. “He taught us how to make his grandma’s cookies. And he calls me Rocket.” Jessica smiled proudly, pulling her daughter in a gentle side hug.

A flicker of rage darted across his features. “You let him near my daughter?”

“How about you go inside and work on your homework?” Jessica suggested coldly, flashbacks of all the angry arguments and screaming matches replaying vividly in the back of her mind.

Zoey nodded in understanding and disappeared behind the door. Jessica’s eyes flashed to Guy. “You’ve got some nerve showing up after all this time and lecturing me on parenting,” she snapped, closing the distance between them.

“Jessica-”

“No, you are not going to interrupt me,” her finger jabbed at his chest, the anger of the past four years bubbling to the surface. “And you are not going to regard Zoey as your daughter now when you were developing a fucking food app while she was crying herself to sleep every night wondering what she did wrong for her daddy to leave her.”

“You are being-”

“I told you not to interrupt me,” she practically growled, staring directly into those emotionless eyes; the same eyes that had so obviously enjoyed toying with her and beating down her confidence day after day over a span of years. The same ones that watched as Zoey attached herself to his leg, begging him to stay. “You may have been able to control me when we were together, but you sure as hell don’t get to control me now. I will see who I want when I want however I want, especially when they make my daughter happy. Is that clear?”

“You need to-”

“Is. That. Clear?” She was fuming, her hands were shaking, and she was sure that her face was a tomato red, but she didn’t care. Part of her wanted to murder him right here in this hallway, but then she’d go to prison. Mom’s don’t have rights in prison.

“Crystal,” he seethed.

“Good, now get out,” she ordered, but not before looking at Faye and plastering on a friendly smile. “It was lovely to meet you.”

“You too,” she repeated, clearly shocked and a little afraid. “Come on, sweetie...let’s go...” Watching as they walked away, Jessica slowly opened the door from behind her and slid herself in, her heart pounding hard against her chest.

She tapped on Zoey’s shut bedroom door and let herself in. She was doing homework. Of course, she was. “Hi pretty girl,” she murmured, leaning on the

Zoey’s eyes flashed over, and she offered a nervous smile. “Are you mad at me?”

“What?” Jessica sat down on the edge of Zoey’s bed and rested her hand on her knee. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I was happy that Daddy came back,” she replied, setting her textbook aside. Guilt welled up in Jessica’s chest.

“Sweetheart, I know you love your Dad. And I know you love me. Just because you love both of us doesn’t mean you love me any less, does it?” Zoey shook her head and swiveled beside her, wrapping her arms around her mom’s waist.

“I just don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t,” Jessica promised. “I will never ever be mad at you for loving your father. Just because I’m angry with him doesn’t mean that I expect you to feel the same way.”

“I love you, Mama.”

“I know you do, and I love you back,” she smiled, brushing a strand of Zoey’s hair out from her eyes. “Now, you finish your homework and treat yourself to a cupcake when you’re done. I’m going to have Alma come over so I can see if Levi’s okay.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Daddy was really mean to him.”

At least they agreed on that. “Yes, he was. I’ll be back soon, okay?” After letting Alma in and thanking her profusely, Jessica knocked on Levi’s door. It took a minute before the guitar music stopped, and the mechanisms of the door began to shift.

“Hey,” Jessica offered weakly.

“You didn’t have to check up on me,” he sighed, clearly embarrassed with the situation. “I’m fine.”

“Maybe I didn’t come to check up on you,” she countered with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow. “What? Maybe I came to fix your oven this time.”

“Do you even know how to do that?” he chuckled, the light coming back into his brown eyes.

“Ah, you got me,” she grinned. “Can I come in?”

“It’s a mess,” he warned but stepped aside anyway. “Do you want anything? Coffee? Tea? Uh...” he paused, checking a relatively empty cupboard. “Whiskey?”

“Yes, that. So much that,” she replied, taking a seat on a barstool. He nodded and slid over a glass for her and then pulled out one for himself. She winced as she allowed the fiery liquid to coat her throat. “I heard you playing.”

“Yeah? I’m sorry,” he scoffed.

“Don’t do that,” she murmured. His eyes gazed behind her, the light gone again. She placed a hand over his, and he looked over, surprised. “Don’t let that walking talking douchebag get to you. He’s destroyed way too much confidence in his life already.”

“Thanks, Day,” he replied, running his hand through his hair.

“Zoey stuck up for you, you know,” Jessica mentioned. His expression softened as a smile tempted his lips. “Said that you’re real cool.” Aaaand there it was. It sent butterflies in her stomach, something she hadn’t felt in years.

“I mean, I am pretty cool,” he laughed, taking another sip of his drink. “She’s a sweet kid. Nothing like her dad.”

“I like to think she takes after me,” she winked, prompting another smile.

“I think that seems the most likely,” he agreed, his eyes gazing into hers before glancing down at their still entwined hands. Every logical part of her told her to pull back, to back off, but she held herself there and watched as Levi ran the back of his thumb over her knuckles. “So, you heard me play.”

“I heard you play,” she confirmed, her eyes watching as he made his way from behind the kitchen counter to only inches away, his hand still holding hers.

“It sounds a hell of a lot better when there isn’t a wall between you and the guitar,” he murmured, his eyes glancing from Jessica to the bedroom. Her heart raced at the subtextual offer and she bit down on her bottom lip in a vain attempt to contain herself.

“Then what are you waiting for?” she whispered, allowing him to wrap her arms around his neck as he lifted her up from the stool and pressed her thighs to his waist. For a moment they just breathed each other in, taking in each other’s gazes and the heat of their emotions.

And then he kissed her. Hard.

His tongue explored and sought, and his spare hand ran under her shirt, feeling, and molding. She let out a moan as he pinned her to the wall, his lips tracing her neck urgently and passionately. She felt him harden underneath her as his hand moved down her abdomen.

“Bedroom,” she whispered. “Please.”

He chuckled a little and obeyed, sweeping the pamphlets of music and his...guitar? Did he just toss his guitar on the ground? Before she could inquire further, he slid off her underwear and eagerly made his way up her thighs, kissing and sucking. She let out another moan, guiding his head as he worshipped her.

“L-Levi,” she stammered, kissing him aggressively as he moved to her lips. Somehow her dress and everything else was off, and she was on top, taking off his shirt and fumbling with the buckle of his pants.

“Oh Jessica,” he groaned, flipping over and quickly putting on a condom. “You’re so beautiful, oh my God.”

“More,” she begged, unable to control herself as the pleasure built up. Her hands roamed his ab muscles, and he shuddered. “Please.”

“Jessica,” he purred as he filled her, running his tongue along her neck. She shook, her nails scraping his back which only sent him over the edge. “God, yes.”

“Levi,” she murmured/whimpered.

--

When it was all said and done, Jessica lay wrapped in Levi's warm embrace. She glanced up at him, and he smiled sleepily as he ran his fingers up and down her arm. "That was..."

"Amazing," he finished, kissing the top of her head. "It was amazing."

"It was," she agreed. "Didn't hear much guitar playing though."

He chuckled. "Maybe another time."

"I'd like that," she replied, feeling at peace for the first time in a long time.

"Me too.”

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

Keep Your Eyes On Me Part 9

Ya’ll, I went back to school. And school is kicking my ass. And so I’m treating myself. And this is the absolutely self indulgent happy ending and for all intensive purposes, Neveah= Naboo. Because when I saw Episode 1 of Star Wars I was like THAT, I WANT TO LIVE THERE, THAT’S NEVEAH in my mind anyway. because I’m weak for that architecture and it’s just SO PRETTY. And looking at pics of Charlie Hunam with kids has me feeling some kind of way because I mean LOOK AT HIM. So precious. Anywho. Thanks to @waiting4inspiration for hosting this. I’m looking forward to seeing your 3k writing challenge and if you do something like this again, TAG ME. also @the-immortal-marshal wanted to be tagged as well. Enjoy. 

Part 9

You were halfway there when you had your first contraction and you faltered and freefell a good couple hundred feet for a moment before you gained control and climbed back to altitude again. 

“Oh no.” You realized when another contraction hit and your water broke. 

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck, not yet baby, don’t come yet.” You begged as you held your belly and did your best to keep flying, flying harder and faster than you had ever flown before- before you reached a sonic boom, that was sure to gain some attention before you mentally screamed out to Bjorn who woke up from a sound sleep to go outside and search the sky but because it was pitch black, he couldn’t see much but he was ready to catch you. You did your best to slow down so you didn’t crush Bjorn but you did fly straight into his arms and he did fall backwards to the ground but he caught you. 

“I got you Baby,” Bjorn grunted as he held you tight as your wings folded back into place before half the order jumped into a circle around you. 

“Zara, we gotta go, we gotta get back, you can’t give birth here.” Muse said as she tried to help you up but all you could do was get on your hands and knees as another contraction hit. 

“I’m not leaving without Bjorn!” You cried as you reached out and grabbed a hold of him with an iron grip. 

“Ok,” they agreed before they put a marker on him and transported you, Dyre and Bjorn back to the launch pad, your family and a medical team already waiting for you before your wings receded back into your body and you hit the button on the cocoon around Dyre so that it revealed him strapped to your chest before the straps were cut off and he was handed off to Bjorn as he was told to follow you as you were put on the gurney and wheeled to the medical wing. 

“Mom!” You cried out in relief as she came and took your hand and squeezed it. 

“Hey sweetie, I’m here, we’re all here.” Your mother reassured you, having had the surprise of a lifetime when Morgan had called your family and let them know you were pregnant after Sephira ensured the pregnancy, that was months ago in the jump but for them, it was a matter of hours in the present.  

“Mom, meet my husband Bjorn.” You introduced as you gestured with a laugh. Never thinking you’d say those words in your life. 

“Hi, I’m Ziri, Zara’s mom, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Your mom chuckled as she greeted Bjorn while she kept in step with the bed before you were wheeled into a room. 

“Ok, we got to get her cleaned up and prepped.” Dr. Fabian ordered before your mom let go and kept Bjorn back. 

“Ok, she has to get washed and prepped, you need to cleaned up too, so here, I’ll tade you these for him, hey sweetie, I’m Grandma!” Your mother greeted Dyre excitedly as she traded Bjorn a bag of clothes for Dyre before a nurse took him to a bathroom where there was a tub of hot water and soap so he could get washed up and cleaned up and thankfully there were picture diagrams of how to get dressed in the clothes provided and just after he got out the room, your family was waiting for him to greet him properly yet their excitement could hardly be contained, knowing it would take someone exceedingly special for you to settle down with. They had also cleaned up and changed Dyre into some new baby clothes as your family passed him around to greet him and love on him before they brought him and Dyre back to your room where you had just gotten an epideral to help with the pain and you were dressed in a hospital gown and much calmer and much more at ease now. 

“Hey,” you greeted Bjorn with a relieved smile as you reached out to him and he came over to you. 

“Are you ok?” He asked. 

“Oh yeah, I’m fine, I got an epideral, I’m much better now.” You answered before the anestesiaologist explained to Bjorn what an epideral was. 

Your family and Bjorn waited patiently for your labor to progress and after it did, you gave birth to your son- Rowen. Who was practically perfect. 

After a few days of recovery you took your new family home to your family’s estate and Bjorn was in a constant state of awe of how magnificent everything was and how nice and welcoming your family was. The dragons were very eager to see you again and see your sons and Bjorn and Bjorn was blown away that such great magnificent creatures acted like puppies towards him and Bjorn was all too happy to learn how to fly them and was a natural and he happily gave up his old life to stay with you because once he laid the foundation back in his time, his presence was no longer needed. 

Your wedding to Bjorn was the most beautiful in the order and it seemed all of Neveah was in attendance and the sister estate next to your parents’, so that you had your own space while still remaining close- you moved into it right after and it seemed to be filled to the brim with gifts that took forever to go through and you thought your fingers were going to fall off from all the thank you cards alone and a few years after that, your daughter was born, Astrid. And life with your family was all you could ask for. You had a husband who truly loved you and was never abusive to you and treated you with loving respect and kindness always. You had two sons who were as thick as thieves and while they got into plenty of mischief, they were good boys and Bjorn was an amazing father and was completely wrapped around his daughter’s finger. 

Once all your children were in school, you prepared yourself for going back into the field. Working out and getting back in shape and rehoning your skills while Bjorn settled into fatherhood and his new life being a dragoner- better than you would have thought he would but he was especially resilient.  

But as Dyre got older, he looked more and more like Ivar. You could see it in his smile, in his eyes, also in his personality. He was too smart for his own good but it was tempered with the sweetness Freydis had. Because while he looked like Ivar, his personality was more like his mother which made him the favorite by his classmates and popular in school and good at sports while Rowan was the first of his kind since no other agent had been able to conceive while the serum was injected and active. Thankfully he didn’t have any adverse affects, he took after his father in looks and personality while Astrid was a beautiful blend of both Bjorn and you.  

And then one day, you moment you were secretly dreading happened. 

“How come I don’t look more like Dad?” Dyre asked as the two of you were preening your dragon, Bora-Bora, rubbing special oils into her scales so that air and water alike glided over her body easier and made her faster than the wind- in the stables as you paused and gauged whether or not to tell him the truth before you realised he would find out sooner or later. 

“Because Dad isn’t your biological father.” You confessed. “The more you grow the more you’ll recognize that you don’t take after me or your Dad, but you do take after your biological parents quite a bit.” You revealed. 

“Who were they?” He asked curiously, having suspected something like this for a little while now. 

“Ivar the Boneless and his first wife, Freydis. You are their firstborn son, you were born as Buldur Ivarson. Freydis is not really mentioned in the sagas if you look him up. I was on a mission to protect Dad and when your mother gave birth to you, you were deformed and because of your deformity, your biological father rejected you and abandoned you in the forest, thinking it was more merciful to let you die young than have you live in agony, there was no way for you to survive without intervention, so I intervened. I used every tool in my arsonal to save you and heal you and it was the best decision I ever made. Dad and I love you very, very much and you are just as much our son as Rowan is. That’s why Dad abandoned his old life in that time to come with me to the present, to be with us. Because I was taking you here with me one way or another, even if I had to smuggle you in.” You explained. 

“Well can I ever go with you and meet him?” Dyre asked. 

“Maybe when you’re a little older. But I would not advise you to get any closer than we are to Midnight.” You said as you nodded over across the barn to Bjorn’s dragon Midnight who was this super dark inky blue dragon with a purple shimmer to his scales as Bjorn and Rowan were doing what you were doing to him what you and Astrid was combing the long fur on a silky dragon in the middle of the barn as the other dragonlings gathered around her, like puppies. 

From then on you could tell Dyre was researching all he could about Ivar the Boneless and when he found a picture of him that you had taken with your contacts, his breath crashed from his chest, he looked just like him but soon he ran out of information and you could tell he wanted to know more. 

“Come on, you’re coming to work with me today.” You told him one Saturday morning before he got his things together and came with you into the Order’s headquarters where you took him to your bay and he looked in awe at everything. All your clothes for all the different time periods, all your armor, all your weapons and technology and even the new advancements that had been made over the last several years before you showed him the feeds you had gathered on your last mission and had built a little movie for Dyre to see when it was time for him to learn the truth about himself and you sat with him and watched for hours. Watching Dyre watch it and react to it. 

He started crying when he saw what he was born as, touching his face and realizing how it had changed, how you had changed it and him and saved him. To hear Ivar’s speech to him was both beautiful and heartbreaking. To see how Ivar was with Freydis, sweet and loving one moment and violent the next. How convoluted he was and how he had his head so far up his own ass he honestly thought he was a god. It was madness. To see the scene unfold of Ivar strangling his own wife, Dyre's birth mother enraged him. But that's where the feed ended. 

“After this moment, he disappears from the record. No one knows what happened to him. He most likely slipped away in a disguise. He probably lived for a little while longer but….we just don’t know.” You informed him. 

Dyre nodded in understanding and the ride home was quiet as he contemplated everything before you reached over and held his hand. 

"Thank you." Dyre said quietly. "For showing me, for saving me." Dyre added as he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of your hand while your heart melted before you mirrored his actions. 

"You're welcome. Please know that I would do it a thousand times over, a million times, a billion times. Because I love you and you are my beloved and precious son. And I will always love you and be here for you." You vowed. 

“Ok.” Dyre nodded.

[freebooter4ever]

my dad group texted my brother and i, highly unusual, and i think jordan was weirded out too cause his response was equally short and confused. on the list of things my little brother and i have never discussed, our dad’s relative interest or lack there of in our lives is pretty high. dad’s been messaging me since october, asking about stuff like where my next living plans are (which he has never done since i first moved out age eighteen), and i’ve only been vaguely responding to the point blank questions cause its just. so. weird. i think my grandpa’s death has shaken dad’s worldview a bit more than he’s been letting on.

he alienated my brother and i pretty much immediately after his secretive marriage to the bottle blonde rich bitch when i was 22. he kicked my brother out as soon as jordan turned 18, and when i discovered this by coming home one summer and seeing jordan wasnt in the house, i got so fucking mad that it was the first time i ever had a full out screaming match at my dad. and apparently this display of anger was when rich bitch decided she didn’t like me (probably valid, but also ironic because pretty much from birth it was known in my entire extended family that dad and i were almost identical personality wise, and both of us have tempers where we will not get mad at anything but frustration will build up and up until on the rare blue moon it boils over, and oh boy. watch out. those moments were the only times i was ever scared of my dad as a kid and i think it only happened twice in my entire life)(if she thinks im crazy when im angry, she should see my dad)

but i was crazy mad because while i was lucky enough to be put in therapy due to attempting to starve myself into non existence at age 13 (many many sessions of ‘family’ therapy with me in the center of a long couch silently trying to pretend i was invisible and my mom two feet away at one end and dad on the opposite end of the couch, and my mom doing all the talking, ranting and raving about how im starving myself to punish her. and then the therapist kicking both my parents out and trying to convince me to say a few words, and her finally getting me to realize that how my mom treated me was not normal and not something i needed to put up with if it made me sad and scared, and then the therapist realizing that i was still too sad and scared to confront it, and her and i coming up with a compromise where we would tell my mom that i was just ‘really attached’ to dad’s house and it wasnt that i was terrified of living with my mom or liked my dad better, it was that i just really liked living in one place instead of out of a suitcase and moving every week), and so had both the therapist and my dad supporting me when at fourteen i finally said enough was enough and demanded that my dad get full custody so i didnt have to spend every other week with my abusive mother anymore - while i got out of that situation, my brother didnt. i tried, he knew that it was my decision to live full time with dad and i made it clear he could do the same, but just as it was a given that i was identical to dad’s personality, my brother was identical to mom’s so i think he was more attached to her than i was. either way, he always refused and insisted on continuing to live between both of them. after i hit driving age, my dad transferred responsibility to me for shuttling my brother to and from my dad’s house to my mom’s apartment. dad’d lock himself in his room, or go to the gym, and i’d turn on an endless rotation of star wars movies for jordan and i to watch before i had to take him to his next week’s place (phantom menace was our favorite cause darth maul was just cool ok, dont judge).

anyway, the last day i ever stayed at my moms house, my brother was there. and i must have been twenty or twenty one because he would have only been around seventeen. but even at seventeen he was well over six foot five cause he got all the height in the family which was totally not fair but thats besides the point. so while i was there my mom flew into one of her alcohol induced rages, and took it all out on my brother. i had intellectually figured that all the anger my mom used to take out on me had then transferred to my brother once i stopped living there every other week, but up until that point i hadn’t actually seen it. she started shoving him, and punching him, and not enough so it would hurt much, because as i said he was well over six feet and she was barely five six, so he could pretty well block any thing she dished out. but he was cornered, and he looked scared. and i was hiding useless on the stairwell, crying, and begging mom to stop. and it only stopped cause jordan managed to slip out the front door and once he escaped mom went back into the kitchen, still yelling and angry. and i took the chance to grab my school bag and leave in solidarity. and my brother and i stood there awkwardly on the porch, me still crying, and him smoking and trying to look cool and not like he just got chased out of the apartment by a woman half his size. and i promised him we wouldnt go back until she calmed down, and that she was being unreasonable and he didnt deserve any of it, and id figure out somewhere to go. and we started walking down the sidewalk, but not together because we were never that close. he wandered off somewhere to smoke. and that’s as far as i remember.

this day came up in conversation with my grandma in the months after grandpa’s death, during one of our many three am can’t sleep conversations in grandma’s kitchen (grandma would wake up, i’d hear her get out of bed and wake up too. she’d make herself tea and eat some graham crackers and we’d sit together at the table feeling the third empty chair like an ache). grandma brought it up, because apparently, even though i cant remember this at all, i had my no/kia brick phone in my school bag (a minor miracle because i hated carrying around cell phones for the longest time), and i actually called grandma. and grandpa and her came to pick me up, and they found me sitting on a wall a block away from my mom’s apartment, and then we drove around till we found jordan, and then we all went back to my grandparent’s house. after bringing this up, grandma then, completely unprompted, told me something that child me thought about regularly - she said that even though her mom died when she was 8, leaving her to help raise her two younger siblings, grandma thought in some ways it was easier than what my brother and i went through with the divorce and my mom leaving. i used to regularly - not wish my mom dead, exactly - but wish i could pretend she was dead, rather than her just not being there anymore. especially since, when i was suddenly thrown into being her sole emotional and physical punching bag now that dad wasn’t filling the role anymore, a lot of the times being around her post divorce was not a good thing. (I cut off all contact with my mom finally at age 25 and haven’t looked back)

so yeah, i was fucking pissed that i had worked so hard to try to mitigate the damage i caused by leaving jordan alone with my mom for pretty much the entirety of my high school years...only to have my dad kick him out barely a few years after i left for college and thus putting my brother at my mom’s mercy. ostensibly my dad kicked my brother out because of his drug addictions, but my brother was the most mild mannered addict i’ve ever known. the worst thing he ever did was steal a couple hundred dollars from me, but he never got violent, he never got angry. other people got angry at him. my aunt once tried to fight him in a hospital elevator because he sold my cousin heroin or meth or some shit and my cousin ended up impaling a knife in his chest in front of my grandma, which is a whole nother story. but jordan was only nineteen when that happened. my cousin? thirty six. and a long time violent and angry drug addict with a record (he threw a book at his professor’s head and got kicked out of grad school while on cocaine once, which is how he ended up back in washington state and needing a new drug dealer - hence my brother suddenly getting involved) (same cousin later flew into a drug fueled rage in his forties and almost beat his girlfriend to death) (my brother was long since clean by then and had nothing to do with our cousin getting drugs at that point)

all this to say my dad’s rich bitch new wife didn’t think a drug addict and mentally ill artist fit into her picture perfect family, so dad started making it clear we were not welcome at family functions unless we complied with very strict rules. ironically, jordan was let back into the fold first partially because i can hold a grudge for a very long time and i was very very terrified of my mom and dad was the sane stable one and i had trusted him to take care of everything even without me there and dad had failed pretty spectacularly at that. im still bitter at my dad for his secret marriage and subsequent moving into her million dollar mansion and throwing my brother out. but also partially because jordan started following all of dad’s rules, got himself cleaned up (he moved in with his girlfriend, and i think being out of mom’s house had a lot to do with getting over his addictions), started studying computer science, found a really good software engineering job, suddenly dad approved of him. i also partially antagonized rich bitch wife by doing silly things like wearing black leather pants and the most provocative clothes i owned whenever i went over to their house. rich bitch was a very simple narrow minded person with a lot of prejudices. i imagine i was not seen as a good influence on her two younger daughters. and eventually they stopped seeing me altogether. even when i was living in washington for all of 2017 - the only time i ever saw dad was when he’d come visit my grandparents alone. the day before i took grandma on the train to move to ohio, we were supposed to all have dinner together at our family’s favorite place to eat out - crossroads mall - and the rich bitch refused to show up. that’s how petty she is. she also is so dumb she’s under the delusion that kids get into drugs if they don’t have dogs (????) so that’s why she forced my dad to get a dog for her spoiled brat youngest when the girl went into high school. my dad dislikes animals, so i will say one of the highlights of this marriage is seeing my dad become a dog person. the rich bitch and her daughters mostly ignore the dog, but my dad is so attached to max that he even lets the little puppy sit in his lap while driving. anyway, anyone who thinks dogs are the sole answer to preventing drug addictions can go to hell.

yeah, blah blah blah, to sum up its WEIRD for my dad to suddenly be texting my brother and i unprompted, and asking me about my life and my plans. i dont really know how to deal. i miss him. he was always the closest person in my life to the point where even when i moved away for college, i still assumed after i graduated i’d just move back in with dad so it was only four years being gone, cause why would i ever want to live anywhere else?. i kept thinking if i could hit some level of success that he would approve of, that maybe eventually i could become somebody his rich bitch wife would associate with. but that never happened, obviously.