#and my aunt's wife is a grandma of at least 3

[dreamcatcheresss]

I'm a logical person, but...

Let me share some strange experiences related to death.

My aunt told me that after her mother's (my grandma's) death she saw a small cloud of fog materializing at home and disappearing suddenly. I need to make clear that no one was smoking and there is no fire place or kitchen near by this place. I wonder how to explain this.

After my father had died my mom got a phone call from HIS NUMBER! At least that's what she told me. His phone was turned off and at home. No one could have used it. She checked the number but... it was too late to pick up the phone. The only way I can explain this is that she was confused and mixed up numbers... or it was something or someone else.

In the night of death my father was in the hospital. My dog started howling at 3:00 AM and didn't want to stop. Later we got a phone call. It was the hospital and we were told that my father had passed away at 3:00 AM. Coincidence? Maybe.

My mom saw a friend standing in her bedroom in the morning and in the next moment he was gone. The man was wearing the bra of his wife. Later my mom found out that he had died before. He used to fool around wearing his wife's underwear. There is no reason for my mother to imagine him like this at that time. So... wasn't it imagination?

The last weeks I've been thinking over and over all there situations. There are more experiences and some of them you can explain easier. You can also explain these, but they give mixed feelings. I think I want to believe that there is something we don't know about, but I also want to stick to facts. In the end I don't know what to think about it.

Feel free to share some stories and experiences. I'm not judging. It's important to me to talk about such things.

[talesofesther]

It's kinda tough to come in the search of.. unburden, I suppose. I talked to you a little while ago, about some friends and unfortunate things. I wanted to ask, again, how's everthing going.

I am going to use you as my personal... therapist, lol, and take what you said as that I could text here in your requests whenever I needed to, you know, speak about these things.

Things with my best buddy didn't get any better, to be honest.

I still adore them, and I would still kill or be killed for them, but to be honest, knowing that they don't seem to even care at least partially how much I do care for them is dragging me down. Feels almost like a betrayal, you know. I was so careful, building this friendship of mine. Careful of hurting them, of scaring them off, of making them feel comfortable and safe. Turns out, they never seemed to reciprocate those kind of things.

And I am just noticing because I am a clueless idiot. To be honest I've always been kind of.. not dumb, but you know, I just don't take hints haha. I am kind of dumb, actually. It's not even their fault, really, it's mine. That's the worst thing. I could never blame my guy for that. I do love them, still, and I still, as said, would do anything for them. So, guess I have that figured out, even though it still hurts like hell. But to be honest, it's not that bad. It would be worse not to have them at all.

Perhaps they don't adore me as a friend as much as I do adore them, but that's okay. It still brightens my day a little to see them, even if all I can think about is how clear it is that they don't care that much for me, and that I am the blindest person on earth.

About my other friends - haven't talked to them since they haven't talked to me. I am not gonna be the one who runs behind them even when I didn't do anything to deserve this. Not anymore. Not me asking what's wrong, what did I do, when even I don't know what could I have done. It's not fair that I respect them and love them and they just exclude me of their lives, and like if I am some kind of love sick puppy I go behind them like a dog, tail between it's legs.

Today I got this notice, though, from my grandma. I don't have the best relationship with her. Things have been tough with her. But I love her and respect her.

She told me that uh, my mentor is dying. From cancer. She has a 25cm x 15cm tumour, and little ones spread all across her body. Ironic as it is, it's almost 25th of the month; the day when my great grandmother passed away from cancer. The woman who raised me.

This uh, mentor, she used to coach me. I was an athlete. I started when I was 3 years old. I did it for over 10-12 years, with the same woman, going to competitions with her all the time. Now we don't see eachother often, but turns out, I'll never see her again, haha! yeah, go ahead, Mila, joke about your trauma, you lil' asshole.

She is in the hospital right now. Getting treatment. To give her a decent life quality for the time she has left. And I am so, so fucked up. Everything, everything I thought I might have left in the past is just resurfacing right now and I feel so damn stupid cause hell, I can't be that fucking stupid. I don't know how to get over things, and it just makes me feel pathetic. Cause let's be honest, after all, I kind of am.

Everything reminds me of everything and even the slightest thing makes me think and think and think and I feel like I can't breathe. Like if someone has a hold in my heart and is squeezing and squeezing and squeezing and at some point that hold is gonna make it all explode.

My uncle, through my grandma, gave me his backpack to use temporarily yesterday (mine broke and I've been using it anyways for almost a week). That's the closest approach I ever had to him over what? one? two years? I haven't even counted them, to be honest. He abused his wife. My aunt. My grandma made me watch, or well, listen to the audio of the video that she recorded and used in the court after that. He sexually abused her there, and I still can't get over it even if it shouldn't be my place to be mad, but I just can't, because I can't forgive that. That and the fact that it brings me back to times that I don't want to revive. And yet, here we are, and all I can do is go back again and again even if I don't want to.

I can't trust him. Worst thing, is he's been nothing but kind to me all the meanwhile. He used to be my heroe, you know. Someone I loved. Like my father, just that he didn't leave for cigarettes haha! He actually was someone I looked up to. A safe place with my aunt, you know. Someone I trusted, who I actually saw as a father. Even when things got a little hard with my mom he and my aunt would be there. But I just keep going back to my aunt crying, to the own fear I felt when I was in that situation, and when he brushes it off, all I see is a hypocrite. He told me himself of when he hit her. That he knew it wasn't okay. But he never said anything about the other things he did to her.

He used to come home, tell me his version of the story. I felt disgust. Because I, myself, heard the story from my aunt after she reported him.

My grandma didn't stand up for my aunt. She said she would, that what my uncle did was wrong, but first time I said something and laughed bitterly when she defended him she jumped at me. She defends everything and covers him up like if she herself didn't make me listen to that freaking video after she took me outside crying to tell me that her son was a abuser. Of his own wife.

Everything just bottles up and I don't know how to let go.

My mother told me she would talk to me when she is home and I am kind of scared she is gonna kick me out of the house again and I am so, so tired of everything. But it's okay. I'll get out of this.

Guess I just need to put all my shit together, get a job and keep going. It's not like she has the balls to kick me out of the house. Right? my birthday is close though! another day closer to death, yay 👹👹!! and I'm also getting a drivers license, courtesy of my grandma! she always gave the best gifts, even if she sometimes is.. well. You know, family. Everything's gonna be just fine. Everything's gonna get better, I'll just work and try everything I can (that is, if someone finally hires me cause damn, I've been loking for a job for months). I can do this. Or at least, I hope so.

Well, I'm not feeling like if I am going to explode now! I mean still I do, kind of, but not as much, even it it's still there. Guess talking about this really helps after all! have a good night, pal. You know, you don't have to answer. You can just leave this hanging around if you wish, or delete it. It's not a big deal, you don't need to bother yourself with this kind of stuff after how kind and attentive you've been. Take care!

Hello, honey, I'm sorry I took a while to answer you, it's been a busy few days.

But let me tell you one thing first, I wish with all my heart that I could give you a hug right now, genuinely, I just want to hold you and tell you everything is gonna be okay. So imagine I'm giving you a big hug right now, okay? <3

This situation with your friends genuinely breaks my heart, because I've been there, I know how you feel. I've had, and still have, so many friendship that meant the world to me, only for me to realize later that I'm just an afterthought to them. And it hurts, it hurts a lot. There's nothing worse than loving someone and feeling like not even a fraction of that love is being returned to you.

I'm sorry this is happening to you, honestly no one should have to go through something like that. Friendships are not meant to hurt. But I know that, eventually, you'll find someone who appreciates you the way you deserve.

I'm also so sorry about your mentor, I've lost family to cancer and it is such a horrible disease, it's something I wouldn't wish for anyone to go through. Again, feel yourself hugged by me.

And about your uncle. For me, that kind of thing is simply unforgivable, nothing less. I would never be able to see past it. So don't feel bad if you can't forgive him either, and don't feel bad for feeling disgusted at what he did; any sensible person would feel disgusted. It is not your obligation to forgive him, much less accept what he did. Though I understand the struggle, especially if he was someone you looked up to. I'm so sorry you're going through this.

Lastly, you're not dumb, you're not pathetic. You're someone who's going through so much shit they don't deserve to go through, and yet you're doing a damn good job of handling it.

Everything will get better, I promise you.

As always sweetheart, I'm here whenever you need to talk. Know that there's someone out there who cares about you and loves you very much; and that's me. <3

[stewardofningishzida]

Some Reflections

This is for whoever needs it right now. I see you and although I cannot promise to know exactly how you’re feeling since everyone’s situation and way of processing things is different, I can at least say that I’m familiar with your situation and fully empathize with it. We may not know each other, but I still care and wish you the best of life, health, safety, and success. Recalling the memories included in this post hurts. They’re still raw and painful, but I’m going to do my best for you. Admittedly, it’s not easy.

TRIGGER WARNING: Homelessness, loss, death

When we first lost our home, it was a horrible shock. Seeing the notice on our door, even as a teenager, I could already have some basic concept of “this is very bad”. My stomach practically dropped to the sidewalk and when I looked at my mom, she looked as if she had been slapped in the face. We both went inside, having just gotten back from picking me up from school, and I followed Mom to her room where she sat on the bed staring at the paper. Then, she burst into tears. All I could do was watch while trying not to throw up at first. Then, I reached over and gently tried to awkwardly comfort her.

This new ordeal freshly after her father (my grandfather) died of cancer and my aunt had burned to death in a house fire the same year. To make it even worse, my dad had been laid off at work, struggling to make ends meet. It got so bad that we couldn’t use the heater because it broke and we couldn’t afford to fix it. So, we heated up bricks in the oven, wrapped them in newspaper, and slept with them in the beds. He got a letter about refinancing the house, but it turned out to be a scam…That’s how we lost the house. We knew we were screwed, but at least we were still together.

When packing, we only had 3 days to leave. So, we threw as much as we could in some boxes and had them taken to either a storage unit or to my grandma’s place. Still…We had to leave a few things behind. When we first moved into my grandma’s place, we all slept in the living room. My mom and dad were on the couches and I was on the floor. After a few nights, Dad decided to switch with me. All the while, my grandma began asking (after only a few days, mind you) when we would be leaving. The only reason she took us in was because my uncle talked her into it. He wanted to help, but only had a small apartment with his wife and kid. So, no room. She had a house to herself since her husband had died. So, my uncle told her to share.

Dad claimed it would just be for a few months and then we’d go. Then those months became a year…My grandma is not a patient woman. Dad was in a job again, but it barely paid enough for health insurance, let alone a new house. I was still in high school. So, I couldn’t do much besides finish my classes. Mom was at the breaking point because she had recently become the primary target for intense verbal abuse from my grandma. She would call us “poor”, give us flyers for local homeless shelters, tell us to get out if we were not going to do anything, etc. The screaming fights would happen almost every day. So, Mom couldn’t do much either. It was not a pleasant situation, but it was at least better than the street. Dad eventually got a job with a bit more money. So, we started looking. At this time, the housing market was starting to rise again. Awful timing.

Whenever we did get a bit of extra money, it was nice, but not nearly enough to get out of our situation. So, instead, we would save part of it and use part of it to travel. A brief respite from my grandmother. We visited many national parks, countries, etc. Sometimes, it was a business trip meant for my father and Mom and I would tag along while Dad could write off some of it as traveling expense to the company. When we couldn’t afford that, we would simply go for long drives on weekends to get out of that house. Being out in nature wasn’t just a nicety. It was a necessity just to stay remotely sane and have some semblance of peace, if only for a few hours.

This salary vs market treadmill effect kept going on and on for years. Dad would get a better-paying job, the housing market and prices rose. Over and over and over. The fights and verbal abuse continued. I got into college and offered to work, but was told to focus on my studies so I could graduate and get a good-paying job right away. So, it continued for 11 long years. At this point, we had become so jaded that that we were about to give up. Everything was expensive and no matter what, the goal posts would just get moved again. Then…At a restaurant, Dad got a phone call. It was the realtor we had contacted before. We got a house!

After all of the heartbreak and disappointment, it didn’t feel real. Even after we moved in…It still didn’t feel real for months afterward. As though we might wake up back at my grandma’s place and the nightmare would continue. Now, we’ve come to terms with it. Though still sometimes it feels dreamlike. Every day I wake up and we’re actually HOME, I’m grateful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I suppose that basically what I want to say is to please stay strong and know that you aren’t alone. A lot of the time, good things such as a change in fortune happen on their own time. Though the wait can be excruciating. Just…stay safe, appreciate the ones who really care about you, know that you are seen, and maybe occasionally take time to clear your head somewhere peaceful. It may save your life.

[theninjasanctuary]

Some progress, as in, I still don't have the washer because I wasn't home on Thursday, neither was the boyf; and on Friday when I asked the boyf to stay home specifically for this, the deliverers never showed. So still hand-washing in the hottest week of the summer, but at least it is fixed? Somewhere out there? Monday delivery, which I'm now hoping for, is inconvenient as well, but I can do the work meeting online.

Nothing in the mail has been delivered either, but should be, possibly also on Monday, adding to the inconvenience.

Anyway. Haven't worked, but there's a reason, my grandma would have turned 100 this Friday and hence my mother and her surviving sister planned a party and I had to help prep; however, probably due to the heatwave, the night before my aunt had what seems to have been a minor stroke. She is mostly fine physically, but having problems with remembering some words and they're keeping her in the hospital for the time being. The party wasn't entirely cancelled, as it was too late to cancel some of the catering, so we hung out with reduced numbers of extended family in the garden under the massive maple tree. It was really nice, just like old times. Saw my uncle's older daughter for the first time, she's 3 and a half, but as the uncle's ex-wife lives next door to my mother and is a busybody and of course a mortal enemy of the new woman, basically his new family is excluded until the ex dies, I'm assuming. The weird, and I imagine, extremely annoying from the ex's POV part is, the new child looks creepily similar to their now adult son (while neither look that similar to their father). Ofc my mother was being sugary sweet to the new niece, who seems like a nice, chill child overall. Who even knows if or when I'll see her again. Not that eager to meet the new woman either tbh, it seems weird that my uncle is with someone my age.

[graypatches]

imma vent in the tags real quick🥴

[talesofstyles]

Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain. 

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder. 

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment. 

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car. 

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.” 

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later. 

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald. 

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.” 

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later. 

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks. 

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off. 

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.” 

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors. 

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve. 

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING. 

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head. 

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her. 

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals. 

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom. 

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife. 

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process. 

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop. 

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache. 

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink. 

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers. 

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest. 

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room. 

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward. 

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket. 

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages. 

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side. 

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket. 

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door. 

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.” 

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going. 

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him. 

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear. 

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat. 

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes. 

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt. 

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige. 

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down. 

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.” 

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching. 

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In the Neighbourhood

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, very lightly edited

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After your grandmother breaks her hip, you volunteer to look after her as she recovers but her neighbour is a bit too friendly.

Note: @lokislastlove​ thinks I won’t call her out anymore but I’m calling her out and you should too. Always blame her.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your grandmother’s house never changed. Nestled between two larger homes and with grass as green as the next, it was as perfect as any along the suburban sprawl. Inside, the same framed pictures of your mother and your aunt and uncle, those of you, your siblings, and your cousins, and family members you only saw at reunions. All of them far away. All of them keeping her company only in the still images. None of them coming to care for her; none but you.

You didn’t mind so much. With two degrees under your belt, you were ready to start your novel as you pondered a third. Your online transcription job was easy enough to travel with and you loved your grandmother. The least you could do was help her out in her recovery. A broken hip but otherwise okay. She couldn’t do much from her wheelchair and you feared a worse injury if she tried.

You moved in on a Sunday. The family next door, the Barbers, were the perfect picture of a suburban clan. Andy introduced himself and his wife, Laurie, and their quiet son, Jacob. Then they asked if your grandmother, Lucille, was coming to their barbecue that afternoon and invited you along with her. Your grandmother confirmed that she didn’t want to miss out on Laurie’s potato salad because she’d tripped on a rug.

So you wheeled her over, careful as the grass slowed the chair, and you angled her through the open gate. You seemed to be the last to arrive. The air smelled of searing beef and swirled with the buzz of voices. You stood behind your grandmother’s chair as you looked around nervously and a plump woman with short curly white hair approached.

“Darla!” You grandmother greeted. “You’re back from your little getaway.”

“Arn was keen to come home,” The woman smiled up at you and back to your grandmother. “I heard you had a bit of an incident.”

“Oh, still spry, but the damn doctor has me ‘takin’ it easy’,” You grandma sneered. “I’ll be up at it before long. This is my granddaughter, you remember her, don’t you?”

“I do,” Darla smiled though you barely remembered her. “So sweet of you to come down to look after our Lucille.”

“It’s nothing,” You said. “I owe her. I spent too many holidays on campus.”

“That you did,” Your grandmother chided. “But do go on and socialise, dear. There must be someone here your own age. Or closer to. You can’t be lettin’ yourself get caught up with us old biddies.”

“I’m fine,” You chuckled. “Really.”

“You go. Get something to drink.” You grandmother snapped her fingers. “Mingle!”

You huffed but left her with Darla and another woman, you were certain her name was Betty, passed you on her way to join them. You looked around. The wives were in their clusters and the men drank from brown bottles as they laughed and talked about sports. You didn’t know about children or baseball. 

You went to the end of the table, just by the barbecue, a cooler open and waited as a young boy claimed a can of Orange Crush. You reached inside and took out a grape soda. The lid of the barbecue closed and you turned to face its master; Andy smiled as you blinked at him.

“That’s the kid’s cooler,” He said. “There’s a mini fridge in the garage if you want something stronger.”

“I’m good with this,” You cracked the can. 

“I thought you were a college girl,” He said as he set down his long spatula.

“Graduated.” You assured him. “Never was big on the scene though.”

“Really?” He lifted a brow. “I kinda miss it.” He stepped around the barbecue, closer to you. “It was a while ago now but it was fun. You know,” He put his hands on his hips as he looked across the yard. “I was in a frat with Carson over there,” He nodded to skinny man holding a bottle of water amid the sea of brown glass. “We got in quite a bit of trouble. Maybe I wrote a few of my exams drunk but didn’t do much harm.”

“Oh yeah?” You said dully. “What do you do now?”

“Law. Assistant district attorney.” He preened. “But don’t worry, I can still have fun.”

He winked and you squinted at him. He was an old man trying to relate to a youth. There was what, ten, fifteen years between you? Wasn’t that much, really, and yet it was.

“Legal fun,” You suggested.

“Well, the immoral isn’t always illegal,” He mused. “So… Miss Graduate, you have a job lined up?”

“I work online for now but I’m writing, too.” You shrugged. “Nothing fancy but it’ll do for the time being. Until my grandma’s better.”

“That’s a nice thing you’re doing,” He said. “You know, not a lot of people I know my age would drop everything to go care for family.”

“Least I can do,” You sipped from the can. “She always did make the best lemon meringue. It has its perks.”

He chuckled and backed up as he grabbed the spatula again and opened the barbecue.

“Offer stands,” He called over the smoke. “Beer’s in the garage.”

“Thanks,” You smiled and slowly walked away. This was like that party you’d spent hiding on the porch; awkward as hell.

🏡

The first two weeks passed swiftly. You woke up, made breakfast for your grandmother, her usual oatmeal and tea, then you spent a few hours working online, then lunch, an hour of writing, a walk through the neighbourhood, some alone time, dinner, and then some nightly crime dramas with your grandmother. Each day was identical to the last and you felt the vaunted slog of suburban life.

It was Saturday. You needed to get out. Your grandmother even encouraged it. A few hours at the bar, drinking, dancing, you returned with a guy, Gabe, you met there, hushing him as you snuck him in the front door. 

The house was dark as you climbed the stairs carefully and ushered Gabe into your bedroom. You closed the door and grabbed him as you stumbled to the bed. It was messy, hurried, and desperate. Entirely regrettable as you laid staring out the window at the sky after. You didn’t have time to ask him to leave before he started snoring.

You slept for a few hours and woke as the sun began to rise. You poked the stranger you knew as Gabe until he woke up and you threw his clothes at him before you dressed. You peeked into the hall and waved him out behind you. You led him down the stairs and to the front door. He left you with some empty nicety and you hid your wince. It wasn’t your first one night stand but it was definitely the worst.

“Fun night?” You turned as Andy descended the steps of his porch and opened his car door.

“You work on Sundays?” You grumbled. You hoped he hadn’t seen your regret walking away.

“Not usually but I got some hours to make up.” He dropped his briefcase in the back seat and closed the door. “I know that guy. Pretty sure he’s still on probation for the molly he was dealing at the mechanics.”

“Ugh, no.” You covered your face. “You saw?”

“I got a bit curious as I was finishing my coffee.” He pointed to the window with lacy curtains. “Great view just above the sink.”

“So you’re one of those neighbours?” You crossed your arms.

“I seem nosy but really I’m just looking out for you.” He opened the driver’s side door and planted his hand on the roof of the car. “Look, you don’t know the people around here. I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, I won’t be seeing him again.” You retreated to the door and stopped there. “Boring, to say the least.”

“Heh,” Andy scoffed. “Really?”

“Not that it’s any of your business.” You rolled your eyes and stepped inside, closing the door with a snap. You went to the bottom of the stairs and looked up. “Hey, grandma,” You called as you began to climb. “You ready to get up?”

🏡

At the end of the next week, you took your grandmother to her check up. Her recovery was on track but she had a long way to go. The doctor was optimistic that at her next appointment, she’d be ready to use her walker more often.

As you helped her out of the car and got her settled in her chair, you ignored the roar of the mower in the next yard. You’d seen Andy as you drove up. He was pushing the machine back and forth across his already perfectly manicured yard; shirtless. As you turned to push your grandmother up the walk, you couldn’t help but notice that he was in great shape for his age. For any age, really.

“Hey,” He yelled over the motor and shut it down. “How’s it going, ladies?”

“Andy,” Your grandmother chimed. “Great! Doc says I’m doing well.”

“Mmhmm,” You mumbled, still slightly embarrassed over your last interaction with the man.

“Well, seeing as I’m already out here and you already had such a busy day, I could do your lawn while I’m at it?” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and you quickly tore your eyes away from his chest. 

“Oh, you’re too sweet,” Your grandma giggled. “It’s so hot out here.”

“I don’t mind,” He insisted. “Laurie’s gone to see her parents with Jacob so I’m just trying to keep myself busy.”

“Twist my arm, why don’t ya?” Your grandmother shook her hand. “Fine! Sweetie,” She reached back and tapped your hand. “Let’s go make some lemonade for this young man so he doesn’t overheat.”

Andy smiled and you nodded at him awkwardly. You wheeled your grandmother up the newly installed ramp and inside. She ordered you to the kitchen and directed you to the lemons hidden in the crisper.

“The juicer is just under there.” She pointed to the cupboard, “And you’ll want to add some sugar.”

“I know how to make lemonade, grandma,” You said as you pulled out the pitcher.

“That Andy’s a nice man,” She said. “So helpful… handsome too. It’s too bad you’re so young… and he’s so married.”

“Stop,” You warned. “You said the same thing about your doctor.”

“Yes, but he’s a doctor. He’s rich.” She snickered. “And not married, just not into your type.”

“Grandma,” You snipped. “Really.”

“I don’t know how your mother ended up with you.” She said. “She was such a little troublemaker.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard,” You said as you washed the lemon juice from your hands and added water and sugar to the pitcher. “I think her stories were more a warning.”

“Too smart for your own good,” She tutted as you mixed the lemonade.

You went to the cupboard and grabbed some ice cubes from the freezer as you set a glass on the counter. You poured the lemonade and gave her a sour look. 

“You think you can look after yourself for a few minutes?” You asked dryly.

“Girlie, I was taking care of you while you were in diapers,” She narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, how the tables have turned.”

“I don’t wear diapers,” She hissed as you neared the door. “Yet.”

You went out the front door as Andy pushed the mower across the yard just along the walkway. He stopped and looked over at you. He shut down the motor again and neared you as you came down the steps to hold out the glass. He thanked you and took a big gulp before he handed it back.

“You know, I didn’t mean anything,” He said. “The other day. Sometimes… I say stuff without thinking.”

“It’s… whatever.” You shrugged and set the glass on the rail of the porch. “No hard feelings.”

“I just got a hot tub. Just gotta hook it up and it’s ready to go.” He said. “You should stop by later. Get a soak in.”

“No, I don’t think so.” You stood at the top of the steps. “I don’t wanna leave grandma all alone. She wants to watch Casablanca tonight. I promised we would.”

“Maybe another night.” He offered. “You work so hard. You deserve a break.”

“Maybe,” You said evasively as you turned and crossed the porch. You glanced back as you opened the door and he was still looking at you.

“Lemonade’s good.” He smiled. “Thanks.”

🏡

You finished lunch and left your grandmother to her puzzle at the dining room table. You went upstairs to change the shirt you’d spilled mustard down; it was all you could smell. You tore off your shirt and tossed it on the bed. You rounded the bed to the dresser that sat just below the window and opened the draw. Movement caught your eye and you looked up across the space between yards.

Andy’s eyes met yours through the windows. You’d never realised they were adjacent, let alone so easy to see through. He wore a towel around his waist, freshly showered and his gaze strayed for just a moment. You blanched and pulled out a shirt and covered yourself with it. He smirked and tilted his head. Then he winked and a shiver went through you.

You grabbed the curtain and closed it so forcefully you nearly bent the rod. You backed away and put the shirt on properly. Surely, he was being funny. A tense, awkward moment. What else could he do but make a joke? Well, it wasn’t a very good one.

🏡

You stayed inside for the better part of a week. Aside from your walks with your grandmother and a trip to the grocery store, you kept your curtains closed, and hid yourself away. Maybe you’d built it up in your mind but you were just set off-kilter by the wordless interaction. Since, you felt as though you’d been walking a tightrope, too afraid to look down.

But that night, your grandmother wanted to sit outside. It was warm and the nights were shorter; later. You wheeled her out, a book on her lap, and as you made to skirt back inside, he appeared. Andy had impeccable timing. It made you wonder if he was watching you; if he had been for much longer than you knew. Well, now you were just being paranoid.

“Hey,” He stood at the edge of the yard. “Beautiful night.”

“Sure is,” You grandma replied. “I’ve got a new book and I’m ready to enjoy the breeze.”

“Oh, a new book? What’s it about?” He asked as he neared tentatively.

“Another scary one.” She cracked the cover. “Or so I hear. Skinwalkers taking over a whole city.”

“Ah, spooky,” He commented and looked at you. “And you?”

“Writing. Inside.” You said evenly.

“I figured since it was so nice, I was finally gonna try out my new Jacuzzi,” He said. “I just… I did promise you a soak so I thought maybe--”

“Eh, I don’t know.” You neared the door. “I really should try to get some writing done.”

“Nonsense, dear,” Your grandmother intoned. “You’ve been on that computer all day. You should go, relax.”

“Really, I--”

“Laurie might join us. She’s inside doing some work.” He piped up. “She wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Go on! I’m getting sick of ya anyway,” Your grandmother snorted. “You could stand to loosen up.”

“Grandma,” You huffed.

“Go get changed,” She ordered and smiled at Andy. “She’ll be over shortly.”

You blinked and tried to hide your irritation. You went inside before Andy could notice and you stormed upstairs. You weren’t even sure you’d packed a suit. You searched through the dresser. The curtains were still drawn tight. You found your old pink bikini with the white flowers. Really? It had to be that one?

You changed, reluctantly. It couldn’t have covered less of you. You found a tee shirt and pulled it over. You descended the stairs again and stepped out on the porch.

“Thanks for that, grandma.” You scowled.

“I can see why you were never popular,” She laughed. “Go. Have fun. This old lady can handle herself.”

You stomped down the steps beside the ramp and stopped at the border of the yards. You sighed and went to the gate, it was open in expectation of you. You heard the whir of jets before you entered. Andy was just beside the hot tub, testing the temperature with his hand as you stood across from him. He looked up and gave a crooked smirk.

“Andy,” The back door opened and Laurie appeared. “Oh, hey.” She smiled at you before turning back to her husband. “I’m gonna pass. Gina’s not going to make it in tomorrow so looks like I’ll be up all night.”

“Damn, that’s too bad,” Andy said. “More tub for us I guess.”

“Yes, love you too,” She said dryly. “You enjoy yourself. And don’t leave that thing on all night.”

“Yes, honey,” He said before she shut the door. “Love you.”

You swallowed. Your mouth was dry. Maybe you had been a bit presumptuous. Andy climbed into the jacuzzi and lowered himself into the warm water with a sigh. You hesitated to get closer but you did. He watched you, expectantly. You grabbed the edge and tried to will yourself in.

“You’re wearing that?” He nodded to your tee.

“Yeah,” You lifted your leg over the side.

“You don’t gotta be shy,” He grinned.

You paused and frowned at him.

“I’m joking,” He said. “The other day. That was… funny. Bad timing.”

“Mhmm,” You drew your other leg over and carefully sat.

“You met any more cute guys?” He asked suddenly. You squinted.

“What?” 

“Not much to do around here, you know? Pretty boring.”

“No. I don’t--” You sputtered. “I don’t think it’s a very good idea. Once my grandma’s better, I’ll be going.”

“Still, it’s lonely.” He said softly. 

“What do you care?” You asked, harsher than intended. 

He was quiet. He leaned back and looked over at the house then back to you. He exhaled and spread his arms over the edge.

“So… that toy you hide in your night table? You always use it or you ever just… feel yourself?”

Your heart sank. You felt as if you would choke on air. Had you imagined his words?

“What did you just--”

“Took you long enough to catch on,” He said. “Got a good view of you when I can’t sleep but… not anymore. Too bad.”

“Andy,” You stood and the water splashed around you. “You-- You’re-- Laurie, she--”

“I haven’t fucked her in months. This is what she does.” He sat forward and caught your hand. “She works. All the time. I try and she… just doesn’t want to.”

“Let me go.” You struggled with him. “You’re disgusting. You’re married!”

“Me? Fucking awful some young girl strolls into town and tries to seduce a married man? What would grandma think? And Laurie? She’s not one to sit back and be humiliated.” He tugged on you. “I have a reputation around here. You’re just a stranger, and apparently one, who fucks strangers.”

“What are you talking about?” You nearly slipped as he spun you back to him. “You’ve been watching me and--”

“I’m just a neighbour looking out for you,” He pulled even harder and your feet slid across the bottom of the jacuzzi, forcing you to catch yourself on him. “Like I do all my neighbours. They would confirm as much.”

“Get--” You grabbed his arm as it snaked around you. “Andy! Laurie--”

“Doesn’t give a fuck and if she came out, well, she’d only realise what’s she’s pushed me to.” 

You wriggled as he held you to him. He drew your leg over his so that you straddled his lap. You pushed on his chest and grunted.

“You keep it up and everyone will hear. Even sweet old nana.” He snarled. “I saw you looking at me that day… when you brought me lemonade.”

“No, no,” You rasped.

“I’m old, not that old,” He purred. “As you can obviously see.”

“Let me go. Please.” You begged. He was too strong and your arms only ached from pushing against him. “Andy--”

“Shhh,” He grabbed your chin with his wet hand and pulled you close until your lips almost met his. “In this town, rumours travel. It might be old news that you left a bar with that dumb kid but now, it’s evidence.” His hand slipped down your neck and squeezed. “Such a bad girl.”

“No one would--”

“They have no reason not to believe me,” He rolled up your wet shirt with his other hand. “Annie across the street, she likes gossip. She’s seen you flirting with me, at least that’s how she told it to Laurie but you know, my wife just laughs it off. And now she’s no doubt seen you come into my backyard in just this.” He pulled your shirt higher. “And her mind is going wild.”

“I can’t--”

“How long did he last? A minute? Less?” He snarled and his other hand slipped down to draw your shirt up. You kept your arms down as you tried to resist. “Bet you could wait to use your little toy.”

“Stop,” You pleaded.

“Get your arms up.” His voice was deep and dangerous. “And stop your whining.”

You stopped and stared at him. His blue eyes burned into yours and sent a shiver through you. His fingertips pinched your hips as they crawled under your shirt and he pushed it higher.

“You don’t shut up and someone will hear, sweetie,” He warned. “Up.”

He tugged until you raised your arms. A wave of bile rose in your chest and you let him peel away your wet shirt and reveal the skimpy bikini beneath. He dropped the cotton over the side of the tub and his hands grazed the triangles of your top.

“Cute,” He hummed. “You hiding this from me?”

You were quiet, sickened. With him, with yourself. You knew you couldn’t fight, wouldn’t. You remembered the barbecue and how you’d been the odd one out. Recalled how Andy had talked to almost every person there. Everyone loved him and no one knew you.

“Mmm mm mm,” His fingertips walked around your neck and he picked at the knot behind your neck. The straps loosened and he let your top fall and expose your chest. 

He bent to bury his face against you and nibbled along your tits. You looked, startled, to the back door. It was still shut. A light glow from a bedroom above and the distant beat of music escaped through the slightly opened bedroom window. Another light died on the first floor and was replaced by a second on the top floor, reflecting against yours on the other side. 

You quivered as Andy took a nipple in his mouth and sucked. You felt it in your core as his hand cupped your other tit. He reached beneath you and played with the edge of your bottom. He drew you back as he leaned against the side of the tub and lifted his pelvis, and you with him. He tugged on his shorts and sat back down.

You felt hollow and a cloud of panic filled your stomach. You struggled against you and he bit you. You squeaked as his teeth threatened to break the skin and stilled. He parted and looked up at you.

“Be a good girl,” He felt beneath you and began to stroke himself.

“Please--”

“Shhh,” He turned his hand and hooked his fingers in your bottoms, pulling them aside. “It’s okay, sweetie.” He rubbed his tip against your folds. “It’ll be good.” He drew you to him and angled you over his dick. “Better than ever before.”

He forced you down and your lips formed an o as he entered you. You latched onto his shoulders without thinking and he pushed you to his limit. His lips and teeth returned to your chest as he once more began to toy with you. You quivered as he began to rock your hips.

The water swished around you, swirling and slapping against your skin. You held your breath as you tried not to cry out. You hissed as you dug your nails into his shoulders and let him guide you. Despite yourself, despite everything, it felt good. It felt wonderful. He was right and you were weak.

“You like that?” He nuzzled your throat. “Is this what you think of at night, huh?”

You bit your lip as he kneaded your hips and kept your moving.

“I think of it all the time,” He muttered. “All the time. Maybe…” His breath caught and he groaned. “Maybe I could offer to take you grocery shopping, hmm? We could have some fun in the car…”

“Andy…” You whimpered. “No, we can’t-- not again…”

You grasped his wrists and tried to push yourself off of him. A semblance of sanity returned to you as you looked him in the face. His eyes were dilated and dusky. He was entranced; incorrigible. You struggled as he held you down.

“This is wrong--”

He shoved you off him as his lip curled. You stumbled back and caught yourself on the other side of the tub. The water splashed as he stood behind you and grabbed your arm. He turned you over and pushed you over the siding, a jet blowing against your pelvis.

“Doesn’t feel wrong to me.” He growled.

He held you down with a large hand between your shoulders as he pushed your legs apart with his knee. He pressed against you and searched for your entrance, swiftly impaling you. You choked down a mewl as your hips crashed into the wall of the tub. He leaned his weight on you entirely as he rutted into you without relent. You were certain someone would hear the clapping of flesh or the stir of water all around.

“You’ll do what I want, when I want,” He sneered. “And from what I can tell, you’ll like it.”

“Andy--” Your voice fizzled as the pressure mixed with the steady stream of the jet as it hit your cunt. 

You held in a moan as you hung over the side of the tub, the blood pounding in your head as you panted wildly. You covered your mouth, afraid you would cry out as the coil inside you twisted and twisted. Your legs quaked as you orgasmed.

Andy’s hand gripped your hips and he pulled you back against him, again and again, using your body easily. You slid back and forth over the side and he bent over you, crushing you against the tub. He growled in your ear and his thrust jolted your body.

He pulled out suddenly, still looming over you as he stroked himself against your bikini and pressed his damp beard to your cheek as he shuddered. His hot cum spilled out onto the wet fabric and dripped down your thigh as he eased himself through his climax. He sighed and pushed himself from atop you, falling back into the water heavily.

You stayed as you were for a moment. Stunned. Shakily you stood and fixed your top and pulled your bottom straight. You couldn’t look at him. You climbed out of the tub and walked unsteadily across the grass.

“Ah, that was relaxing,” He said. “Come back anytime.”

You ignored him and continued onto the gate.

“Oh, and it’s supposed to be a cool night,” He called after you. “You should keep your window open.”

You slipped through and the gate creaked behind you and closed with a metallic click. You shivered as you kept to the side of your grandma’s house and entered through the back. You didn’t want anyone to see; you were certain they would know if they did.

[belovvved]

!!Emergency!! Unsafe Housing Situation/No Transportation!!!!Help a Non-Binary Artist achieve relative comfort!!!

I wish that none of this was real, and that I don't need help. I don't even know where to begin. But I'm trying to open up, I can't keep trying to do everything alone.

PLEASE BOOST... if you cannot donate or help me find resources in my city (San Antonio, Texas)

CASHAPP: $citrinebat ZELLE: freedumb210@gmail.com

Any advice or resources will be much appreciated.

I grew up never speaking out because I would always get silenced, my parents are good at manipulating others to believe that they are decent people. I am not welcomed or safe at home.

Basically, I was born to two teenage parents that weren't ready to have children or mature enough to be with each other.

I grew up seeing my mom get abused by my dad verbally, physically, and emotionally. I would always stick up for her, and so the relationship between my father and I has never existed... In fact he hates me for being outspoken, and protective. My mother takes out her stress and abuse on me too. She's tried drowning me when I was 8 and I found out later from my aunt. My mother has Stockholm syndrome, she even went so far as to take a felony for him and has not had a job in years.

It has been my whole life, and I'm the oldest out of 5 including myself. Many times I've tried helping my mom, only to have her hurt me again in some sort of way- by going back to my dad, borrowing money, gambling, drinking etc. She never admits her faults, and plays victim which is something I am not trying to do.

I still cannot believe that this is what has become of the family I romanticized. I've discovered that my parents, and brother are severely mentally ill- my parents take prescription pills that aren't theirs... some of which I do not know completely. My brother has become psychotic and has black-out rages where he hurts someone in the family or breaks things around the house.

In the past I always had to lean on other relatives (now passed) for support or past partners- (which I do not want to do anymore).

I left as soon as I graduated from school in 2018 (Summa Cum Laude). I wanted to pursue going to art school or architecture. But I couldn't due to the fact that my dad sold drugs and his taxes weren't accepted in FASFA. I had to wait until I turn 21 to file independently but even when this came around (Oct.2020) I wasn't prepared in anyway possible to pursue higher education.

-Things in the past were manageable, because I had my Grandma who supported me in everyway possible while she worked two jobs. She took me and my 4 siblings to and from school. While my parents stayed at home sleeping. She did everything she could for us, and then in 2019 she was diagnosed with cancer and died within 3 weeks, inside of the home I am currently living in.

She bought me a car before right before she died- which my mom used whenever she wanted to in order to escape from my dad momentarily. It had 56k miles at first and I never got to drive it until 100k+ miles. By the time I got it back, my mom cracked the windshield and stained the interior. It got repoed after 3 months of me using it because my grandfather left the country in 2020 to pursue his new wife (in her 20's) and his new family. He stopped paying on the car without telling me, and didn't transfer the title to me, so I had no way of preventing anything.

My only source of transportation was taken from me in March 2021. So I lost my job, my car... and I need help because I have to start all over.

I currently live at my Grandma's house where she passed away inside of the living room. The a/c has been broken since last summer (2020) and there is no heat or hot water and I just endured that during the Texas Winter Storm.

Whenever my Grandfather returns from out of the country I will have to find a place to stay but that means making 2-3x the rent and having a job for at least six months. I cannot return home because my brother is a reflection of my abusive father and I DO NOT FEEL SAFE being around him.

My brother has broken a window on me, physically has hurt me more than once. My dad calls me a whore + so many other worse things. My mom borrows money from me and gambles, and drinks. Just uses me to babysit and has made me quit my art internships in Highschool to babysit while she goes out with friends at the bar

I have been trying to sell art, and nudes in order to get a car... so that way I can try having a job. I have facial piercings and tattoos on my hands so everything is difficult.

The only thing I am at fault for is my way of coping. It's hard to foresee a future for yourself when you're living with trauma...

I didn't want to believe that my parent's don't care but after losing my job and car in March 2021, my mom has not since checked up on me or asked if I was okay. In fact has asked me to borrow money, (she usually doesn't pay back) My dad fixes A/C for a living, and has not fixed the A/C for me since last year.

My mental health is starting to take a toll on me lately and I don't want to end up in the Psych ward again..... Luckily I have a few really amazing, supportive, loving friends. But everyone has their own lives and I can't depend on anyone. I wish I could be the person helping them.

I don't want to take from others who cannot give. I want to be able to have transportation, pursue school, and also feel comfortable and safe where I am living. Past partners know where I stay, and so does my abusive brother and I live in fear of them coming over uninvited.

Please help me get to a place where I can truly grow, and flourish. Please help me feel unashamed about speaking up and asking for help. My dreams are to start a nonprofit for domestic violence victims, foster animals, and start or be apart of a printing press for creatives.

I sell art and make music in my freetime. I lost my only support system a little over a year ago and since then it has been super difficult trying to do things on my own, and I'm tired of depending on sexual partners for help (+ experiencing rape/sexual trauma), as a NONBINARY person being perceived as anything less than a soul is painful.

You can support me by commissioning or purchasing art here. Or donating anything will help- everything goes to my phone bill, food. I am on my last $500. I am really worried because lyfts and ubers add up, and I am uncertain of when I can find a job that will hire me due to my self expression.

Thank you for reading.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Unexpected Part 4

Harry Potter Marauders Era Post-Hogwarts 

Link to Part 3 

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M 

____

The sound of someone knocking on the bedroom door roused from your deep sleep. You heard Regulus groan beside you as he lifted enough to look at the clock.

“The fuck?”

Regulus grumbled. Who the hell was waking him up at 7:30 am when Halley was sleeping?

“What?”

Regulus snapped. The door opened and James stepped in with his hand over his eyes.

“Do you two have clothes on?”

“No.”

Regulus replied, with a grin. The more that he could make James uncomfortable the happier Regulus would be. He wasn’t a fool. Regulus knew that James was still pissed over you running off and getting married. For the few days that the three of you had been staying with James and Lily, James had barely said 4 words to you and it was beginning to annoy Regulus. He made a mental note to talk to James later.

You, meanwhile, gave your husband a small displeased expression as James spoke again.

“That’s just great. I really don’t want to be in here but Reg, your mother is here and we don’t know what to do with her. She’s trying to tell Sirius that he’s doing everything wrong with Halley. They are about to fight. Not to sound concerned but I would pay to see it but I don’t want my kitchen destroyed either.

Regulus quickly got up in search of his abandoned pants. This was the last thing that he wanted to deal with. He needed some form of caffeine before dealing with Walburga or Sirius.

“Fuck shit crap...what the fuck is she doing here?”

James, who had turned around, shrugged.

“We wondered the same thing. It's kind of funny though. Halley is looking at your mother like she hasn’t seen anything like her before.”

Regulus sighed.

“Because she hasn’t. Y/n and I don’t act like raving lunatics around her. Whether you want to believe it or not, but we used to live a very drama-free life. I knew this would happen. We would tell her and she is just going to show up at random times. Who the hell comes visiting at 7:30?”

“You drama-free? Forgive me for not believing that. As far as your mother, she’s been here since 7.”

James clarified. For once, James had to agree with Regulus on something. When James opened his door that morning to see Walburga Black on the other side, he had to make sure that the world hadn’t ended. James was under the impression that Walburga never wanted to see him again. After all, the horrible woman screamed it at his face when Sirius ran away and James was not the least bit upset.

Regulus turned.

“7? Normal people are sleeping at 7...oh wait...this is my mother that we are talking about...carry on. You said that Sirius has Halley?”

James nodded.

“He’s protecting her like a little piece of gold. I think it's annoying your mother and that is what’s the best about it. She wanted to hold her and Sirius told her that his turn wasn’t over and she has to wait in line.”

You ran a hand through your hair trying not to sigh. This was going to a giant mess!

“I got this,Y/n.”

Regulus muttered as he pulled on a shirt and stormed downstairs. If his mother thought for one minute that she was going to sink her claws into his daughter, she had another thing coming! The last thing that Regulus was going to let happen was Halley have a horrible childhood like him. He would die before that happened.

It's a good thing that we willed Halley to Sirius. I could rest in peace knowing that she is safe with him. I will rest better knowing that James also doesn’t have her.

Regulus thought with a pleased smile. The two of you had sat down one night after Halley was born and decided “who do we really hate the most?” Regulus thought the whole thing was rather amusing until you made the comment,

“We need to decide who would be best to raise our child if something happens to us. Do you really find our child’s security a laughing matter?”

The two of you had come to an agreement that Halley would go to Sirius since James and Lily had Harry to worry about. Of course, James and Lily could be involved as they liked in their niece's life but Regulus was adamant that Halley went to Sirius and you agreed.

Walburga looked up when Regulus stormed into the room. She automatically frowned at her youngest son’s disheveled appearance. Regulus’ curly hair was a mess and his shirt was untucked. Walburga hadn’t seen her son look this bad in ages. If Walburga wasn’t hell-bent on holding her granddaughter she would make a comment about Regulus looking sloppy.

“Regulus, make your brother give me the baby.”

Regulus’ attention went to Sirius who sat at the table cuddling Halley. Without saying anything, Regulus eagerly took the cup of coffee that Lily was holding out to him. He didn’t turn to face his mother who looked like she was about to blow a fuse over being ignored. It vaguely reminded Regulus of Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. If she started screeching, “I will not be ignored” Regulus wouldn’t be able to fight the urge to laugh at her. What was she going to do, after all? Send him to his room?

“Regulus, you are ignoring me.”

Walburga snapped. Regulus shook his head and pointed to the cup of coffee in his hand.

“See, he has to have the motivation to deal with you too. He’s just too nice to say it.”

Sirius commented. Walburga huffed as she sat back down at the table. Her dark eyes were focused on her eldest son and granddaughter.

“You should have socks on the baby. She’s going to catch a cold.”

“It's warm in here.”

Sirius muttered.

“Sheesh mother, would you sit down and take a pill or something? It isn’t like we are going to let her crawl through a puddle of bleach or something. We aren’t heathens.”

Walburga rolled her eyes before standing up and turning back to her youngest son.

“We are having dinner with our whole family tonight. Bring your wife and the child...and for Merlin’s sake brush your hair. You look like your father did after Sirius was born...I swear a woman has a baby and the father goes to pieces.”

Regulus finally had enough coffee to be able to process his thoughts clearly.

“I haven’t gone to pieces, mum. I was asleep. It's barely 7:45...most people are sleeping.”

Walburga put on her sweater with a disapproving scowl that used to send Sirius and Regulus running. Her face reminded Regulus of the time that he had caught the living room drapes on fire.

“I’m sure your wife wasn’t sleeping. You should help her with the child.”

Regulus groaned.

“Mother, I swear to god...it is too early and I haven’t had enough…”

Sirius jumped up and tugged Regulus after him.

“Happy family time is over mother. They will show up to your cult dinner later. Try not to ruin him any more than you already have.”

“You’re not coming, are you?”

Walburga questioned. She didn’t want to deal with Sirius more than she had to. If she dealt with him too much then she could develop feelings for his sassy sarcastic self and she didn’t want anything to deal with that. She was catching enough feelings being around Regulus and Halley. Adding Sirius to the mix would be a disaster!

“Not in a million years.”

Sirius replied before leaving the room muttering to Halley about her family being crazy and to not listen to anything that anyone told her.

“I’ll tell you all about the cult when you get old enough to understand. Your crazy grandma is an alcoholic and needs her special cider to function.”

Regulus shook his head before turning back to his mother who looked ready to start yelling. The fact that Walburga Black wasn’t screaming spoke volumes about her actually want to be involved in Halley’s life.

“We’ll come, mother.”

That evening you stood beside Regulus as the two of you stared at the front door of 12 Grimmauld Place.

“Why are we doing this again?”

Regulus questioned. You sighed as he snuggled Halley closer to him.

“We are being good people and Halley deserves to know both sides of her family.”

Regulus didn’t make any facial expression before turning to you.

“We can just tell her that my family is a bunch of shady characters that she really doesn't need to know. Hell, Sirius can back us up on that one. Halley has your family and she has Sirius...that's enough from my family. She doesn’t need to grow up witnessing these psychos in action.”

Before you could respond the front door opened. Orion stood on the other and smiled seeing Halley in her father’s arms.

“There you two are. We were wondering what was taking so long. Now let me have her.”

You watched as Regulus made a pained expression the moment that his father snatched Halley from him. Orion spent the next few moments smiling down at her as Halley started tugging at the buttons of his vest. ‘

Regulus silently prayed that Halley would start pulling hair that night. That would be one hell of a way to make an introduction into the family...giving someone a new bald spot.

“Come on it. Everyone else is here.”

Regulus reached over and wrapped his hand around yours. You couldn’t help feeling sad when you noticed the dark expression on Regulus’ face. It was the same expression that he had the day before. You assumed that this would be a normal thing anytime that the two of you were in the Black family home.

Multiple sets of eyes rolled up when you stepped into the room with Regulus. You knew a few of the people already. Narcissa and Lucius were looking at the two of you with wide eyes while Bellatrix scowled in your direction. The horrible woman almost made a comment but was stopped the moment Narcissa elbowed her in the side.

Walburga smiled before turning to Druella.

“I assume that you haven’t been told but Regulus and Y/n married not long ago. This is their daughter Halley.”

Regulus hated the way that his aunt and cousins were looking around at each other as if saying,

How is he still here? How is Regulus still with us? What was Walburga thinking?

Walburga turned back to her youngest son with a pleased smile.

“Sit down.”

The next half an hour was the tensest of your life. While Walburga had been overly nice to you the day before, tonight she was in a constant conversation with her sister-in-law. Tonight, she was clearly showing the true colors that Regulus mentioned to you before.

So much for being hopeful….

You thought as Narcissa turned to you. She gave you a sweet smile.

“Halley is a darling little girl. How old is she?”

“Four months.”

Regulus replied. Narcissa again smiled ignoring her cousin’s careful gaze. Regulus wasn’t about to let his guard down. He didn’t care how sweet Narcissa pretended to be. Regulus wasn’t as concerned about Narcissa as he was Bellatrix. His older cousins’ cold gaze was locked on the two of you.

“She’s the same age as our Draco. How wonderful they are the same age! Did you have a hard time with the pregnancy?”

You shook your head before putting your drink down.

“Not at all. A little morning sickness but that was it. Her birth wasn’t bad either.”

Your eyes flickered over to Regulus who had a small smile on his face.

“I think we both did well.”

Narcissa’s mouth dropped.

“You mean, Regulus stayed in the room with you? He didn’t leave?”

You immediately realized just what Draco’s birth was probably like for Narcissa. She was probably in some cold sterile room all alone. “He was with me the whole time. He may have been a bit traumatized but he did just fine.”

Narcissa immediately glared at Lucius. The man was giving Regulus the biggest “fuck you” expression imaginable.

“I think that you and I will have a talk later.”

Both Lucius and Narcissa sat hissing at each other quietly for the next fifteen minutes. You leaned over to Regulus.

“I think I just caused a rift between them.”

Regulus smirked. He couldn’t give two shits as to what was pissing Narcissa and Lucius off. They could get hit by a bus for all Regulus cared.

Bellatrix, who had been listening quietly, the whole time was finally beginning to have enough. She wasn’t thrilled with the fact that Regulus brought you home. Since when was he allowed to go marry whomever he wished? Bella didn’t have that luxury nor did Narcissa or any other woman. Regulus probably got to do as he wished because he was a male.

Stupid double standard.

Bellatrix muttered before turning to Narcissa.

“Regulus was always the weak one. Now look he’s gone and knocked up a blood traitor.”

She said it loud enough for you to hear. You had to stop yourself from turning to hex the bitch. If you needed another reason to hate Bella. She had given you one. Clearly, she knew nothing about her cousin. Regulus was anything but weak.

“Reggie, can we go home now?”

You whispered in his direction. Regulus’ eyes turned in your direction. He had somehow started talking to his father.

“Soon.”

________

@amelie-black @truly-insatiable @lucasfilms77 @realgaytrash @fandomsxxregulus @spiderxalmighty @jessyballet @knreidy1 @rubyroscoe1 @acciosiriusblack @quuenofblacks @hazncalsgal @bennyberry @criminalyetminimal @whymyparentscheckmyphone @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @fandom-trash-worth-it @hankypranky @summer-novak @shaylybaby2032 @marichromatic @maggioli-m @emiwrites3reads @stuckinsaudi1 @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner

[peralta-guaranteed]

Family day playing hooky hc

(this turned into another fic. Apparently I don't make the rules anymore)

Read on AO3

It's the beginning of a long summer. Both kids are home - well, not really, since Amy has signed them up for several activities all around the city. Today is arts & crafts time at the children's library wing, Jake notes as he checks their shared calendar before the morning meeting. But they are home, insofar as Mac's school is closed for the summer holidays, and so's Maya's kindergarten. They drop them off at their daily activity in the morning, and the rest of the time they're at his mom's, who's been happily overfeeding them and entertaining them as the proud grandma she is. Or they drop them off at Gramma Peralta’s first, and she drives them to whatever place they were signed up at. It's a pretty good routine, and he's proud of Amy having found so many things for them to do that seem right up their alley, judging from their excited stories during dinner and the ever growing collection of handmade gifts on their living room shelves.

But they're home for the summer, and Jake and Amy have to sit at the sweltering precinct, slogging through paperwork and a dull week of almost no new cases. It's really not fair, Jake thinks. He remembers his summer days with Gina, when Nana would hand them both a couple of dollars and tell them not to be home until sunset at least. They can’t do that, obviously - Mac and Maya are still too young, and Brooklyn has definitely not gotten any safer since his early teens, when it was already questionably sketchy for him and Gina to stalk around the neighbourhoods and buy cheap ice cream and soda at random bodegas. He also remembers those few rare days when his mom would get a day off that did not need to be spent on catching up on housework, or when his dad would finally show up for more than one day and they could plan a little trip (which would actually take place at least 50% of the time). He remembers the aquarium and the zoo and the natural history museum and Central Park and Coney Island.

And they could absolutely do that, he realises, so the decision is pretty much made before he’s even set his bag down at his desk. But he’s patient enough to wait through the morning meeting - blessedly short, because nothing new has come up anyway, and they’re all told to finish up the paperwork and start on re-organising the evidence room. Jake supposes it’s a generally good thing that crime seems to slow down in the summer heat a little, but that’s not really why he’s so happy right now hearing the captain tell them to ‘find something to do anywhere’. He certainly knows what he wants to do already.

Amy’s morning meeting must’ve been just as short, because she’s already at her desk when he jumps down the last steps of the stairwell to her floor. Her uniformed officers mostly give him a quick nod or smile as he passes - it’s not a rare thing to see Detective Peralta come by to visit his wife outside of break times.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.” He smiles at her, and she rolls her eyes with fondness. The title is still pretty new, and he loves to remind her of it any chance he gets.

“Hey babe. We’re not due for lunch for another 4 hours, you know that, right?”

“Yeah there’s no way I’m waiting that long.” He’s still smiling wide, and when she looks up from whatever paper she’s been filling out, she instantly recognises that mischievous glint in his eye.

“What are you planning?”

“Let’s bail the kids out of the library and go somewhere fun. Coney Island? It’s all open since last saturday I think.”

“We have to work, Jake.” Amy levels him with one of those ‘please be a grown-up’ looks, but she knows they seldom get results.

“Do we, Ames? Do we really? Because Holt has us organising the evidence room. I have literally zero open cases on my desk. And how far ahead are you with all your paperwork and organisation?”

She looks sheepishly at the very small stack of papers on her desk.

“About two weeks, I’d say.”

“And you’re saying we can’t take one day off? Just one day of family time? Getting cotton candy and taking Mac on an actual roller coaster now that he’s tall enough and winning a new teddy for Maya because you’re an ace at the fake shooting range?” He wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis, and Amy stifles a snicker. It’s too bad her husband knows exactly how to win her over for most of his childish endeavours.

“I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to take some personal time right now. We’d still have to convince Holt-”

“On it.” Jake slaps her desk in excitement as he gets up, ready to race upstairs and sweet-talk Holt into giving them the day off (or rather, annoy him into it). Only Amy Santiago would request permission from her boss to play hooky, of course, but there’s no way he’s not going to indulge her.

It’s not even fifteen minutes later that he’s back downstairs, his bag already on his shoulder, almost pulling her out of her chair.

“Got the go-ahead, so let’s go!”

“Give me five minutes at least to brief Gary, and change out of my uniform before I leave.”

He sighs and thrums his fingers across his thigh, but obediently watches her talk to her ‘own Amy’, eagerly taking notes about the few things they actually have to remember to do. He refrains from pushing her forwards by the shoulders as she heads to the locker room, deciding to pack up her purse instead (he knows the layout perfectly by now - the calendar and pen goes next to the baby wipes, and the glasses case has to be by the little box of healthy, kid-friendly snacks). But the moment she returns in one of her signature flowery blouses, he grabs her hand and drags her out of the precinct so fast she can barely protest.

-+-

The drive to the library is equally as quick. Amy only manages to slow him down once they step into the actual building, reminding him of the library rules of being quiet and calm.

“Lieutenant Santiago!” The librarian behind the desk greets her - she’s well-known around these parts, obviously. “Back so early? Isn’t your mother-in-law picking up the kids later?”

He should probably call her to tell her about the change of plans, Jake thinks as Amy explains and asks if it’s possible to get Mac and Maya packed up and ready to leave already.

It’s absolutely possible, of course, and Maya proudly shows them the pipe cleaner and yarn figurine she’d just finished making as the kids librarian leads them out to the main floor. Mac, a few feet behind her, seems wary as he hugs them hello.

“Did something happen?” He asks into the hug, quietly, and Jake remembers with a twinge in his heart that the last time someone picked him up unexpectedly early from football practice, it was aunt Rosa, taking him and Maya to the precinct until Amy brought Jake back from hospital after getting knifed by a perp.

“No, buddy, this is a good surprise.” He hugs him back extra tight, ruffling his hair for good measure, and silently cursing his line of work being so shit sometimes.

Mac smiles back at him, luckily, but there is still a bit of hesitation in his eyes, and Jake’s excitement about his own idea of playing hooky falters for the first time. Maybe they should’ve just let the kids enjoy their crafts and grandma-time, and planned a proper day out for the weekend-

“Grandpa Holt gave us today off.” Amy explains as she steps up to the two of them with Maya by her side, and that title still sounds a little weird even years later. “So we thought we could all go out for a fun day at Coney Island!”

The squeal Maya lets out certainly changes Mac’s smile for the better, even as it is quickly shushed down (they’re still in the library after all!), and they’re soon dragged outside to the car by their kids the same way Jake had dragged Amy out of the precinct.

“C’n we get hotdogs?” Maya asks as she clicks her seatbelt closed and Amy smiles at her through the rearview mirror.

“We sure can!”

“Can we go on all the rides?” Mac joins in, and Jake is glad to see there’s absolutely no hesitation on his face anymore.

“All the ones you’re old enough for, sure.”

The questions and cheers and excited chatter keep up during the whole drive, even as Amy calls Karen and barely gets a word in, between the happy interruptions shouted from the backseat, and it takes a lot more to actually keep them together as they step on the boardwalk, Maya already running left to some game parlour while Mac races on ahead to the first ride he sees.

-+-

The rest of the day does not slow down in their whirlwind. Mac decides after three roller coasters that maybe he’s had enough (and Jake is glad they didn’t go through the food stalls before it), but he spins Maya around in the teacups ride like only an older brother could. The ice cream after is well deserved, seeing how sweaty and exhausted they are already, and gives them more than enough energy to hit literally every game they can see. Jake can watch Amy calculating the vast amount of money they’re spending in tokens, but she’s also the first one in line once they reach the toy-shooting range, winning Maya a unicorn plushie and Mac a knock-off superb-man figurine (his wife is a goddamn sharpshooter and he’d be lying if that wasn’t a turn-on). The third shot earns him a wacky pair of sunglasses that make both Amy and Maya giggle in that way he loves the most, and he refuses to take them off for any of the silly pictures they take in front of cutouts, wall art and weird statues.

He’s pushed them up into his hair by the time they get hotdogs (3 for him, 2 for Mac, one each for Amy and Maya), because the sun is already starting to set and he can barely see. Maya begins to shiver as they stroll down the quieter parts of the boardwalk, so he buys her one of those kitschy animal-hoodies all the stalls are touting (they know their clientele too well), and of course Mac immediately needs one too, so now there’s a tiny tiger and a slightly larger dragon running in front of them with cotton candy sticking all over their hands and faces.

Amy slides her arm around his waist as they slow their steps a little to let the kids go ahead, and he lays his across her shoulder as she leans into him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had more fun playing hooky.” She mumbles, and Jake laughs for a second.

“Amy Santiago, are you telling me you’ve played hooky before? I am shocked. Here I thought I’d married an upstanding girl.”

He gets a soft punch to his side for that before she leans back and whispers.

“Actually, you’ve made me play hooky before, remember? But we didn’t exactly go to an ‘amusement park’…”

“And yet you’re saying this has been more fun. I see where I stand.” He pouts before grinning again, and leans down for a soft kiss. (He definitely remembers the last time they played hooky now.)

“Sorry, babe.” Amy smiles as she looks at Mac and Maya again, currently busy chasing each other and dueling with the sticks left over from their cotton candy. “But this has been such a great day.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna make for one hell of a memory, I hope.” He follows her eyes forward, thinking about that short moment with Mac at the library earlier today. Amy hadn’t heard it, he’s sure, but the look on her face as she pulls him to look at her with a hand on his cheek tells him she knows his thoughts well enough.

“Hey. No sad thinking allowed on such a fun day, okay? We had a great time today and we’re gonna have so many more great days in the future.” She’s still smiling, swiping her thumb across his bottom lip, where he’s sure some cotton candy is still left clinging. “We could take them to the zoo next week.”

“Santiago!” He gasps again. “Are you insinuating-”

“On the weekend.” She leans up to kiss away the last bit of sugar on his mouth. “Like the upstanding girl you married would do, obviously.”

He laughs into the kiss even as he pulls her closer, and it’s only Mac and Maya, running back to them with news of another stand they’ve discovered selling funnel cakes, that makes them break apart again.

-+-

Later, after Jake’s carried a sleepy Maya up to their apartment, and she and Mac have barely had enough energy left in them to brush their teeth and wash their faces free from all the grime and sugar that’s covering it, he falls down on the couch as Amy checks on them one more time to see both fast asleep before the lights are even out.

“Do you feel as tired as the kids?” She says in her deep, sing-song voice that sends goosebumps up his spine, just as much as her hand raking through his hair does as she stands behind the couch.

“Well, it’s been a pretty long day. But I do have more sugar in my system to keep me running, I guess.” He tries to sound nonchalant, but then she leans down to nip on his ear and ‘nonchalance’ is the last thing he’s thinking of.

“Then how about we save time between now and bed by showering together?” She whispers, and he lets his head drop back to actually look at her.

“We have never saved time in the shower together, babe.”

She only smiles at him while humming an M-hm before heading for the bathroom, and he definitely doesn’t waste any time following her.

[grandthedaughter]

INFODUMP ON THE SPOP AU SO AT LEAST MY RAMBLINGS AND STUPID DOODLES MAKE A LITTLE SENSE

So the whole au was made around “Hordad” (Whoreduck) and his bastard twins catboy/catgirl, Void and Nullia (whomst belong to @smolmaplesyrup, love you hun), then it kinda evolved from there, with Hordak having a grandchild, Entrapta being added to the mix because OBVIOUSLY we need Entrapta, come on people. Also there’s Maxime, my mvp, who now takes Adora’s place. I don’t think Catra has a crush on her, and if she does, that’s very sad for her because Maxime actually doesn’t like her, like, at all.

Quick tidbits on the main bastards that belong to me, aka Max and P-M:

Maxime joined the Rebellion mostly because she realized how unethical what they were doing was. Pretty much the same realization as Adora had in the show. However she doesn’t stay because of the power of friendship, she’s actually very much done and annoyed with most of the Princess Alliance, and has a strong dislike for Perfuma and Mermista, and resents Glimmer too in the events of season 5. Mostly for their treatment of Entrapta, but also in general for being horrible at their jobs of reigning monarchs, who are supposed to take care of their people. And not, like, throw sleepovers during formal strategic meetings.

She also had a small crush on Prime, but Max is a being powered by pure unadulterated wrath and so, despite the very uncomfortable tension (Prime totally knew she had a crush on him, come on, it’s practically Prime’s kink to make people uncomfortable), she was mostly good at staying focused on her duty to uh stop the dude from killing everyone. Also she told his wife to divorce him, but she didn’t. Betcha the widow thing stings even more than a divorce would have, Marbles.

Post season 5 she mostly spends her time in Dryl helping with the clones’ rehabilitation. She’s made of 99.9% anger, but the percentage that is left is raw nurturing instincts and the moment she saw those poor clones huddled together in fear at her sight she felt like she was going to cry. 

(Obviously there is much more information to her but I’m making a “short” resumé.)

As for P-M, she’s Hordad’s grandbaby, the catboy (Void)’s adoptive daughter. He literally just waltzed in one day with a baby he found on the floor and then he and his dad got into a match of “I’m keeping it” “No you’re not” “Yes” “No” until Entrapta and Nullia basically saw them arguing and decided “hell yeah an opportunity to gang up on someone” and took Void’s side.

Cute fact, Hordak chose the baby’s name. Because the other three were terrible at it (shoutout to chewed-up-bubblegum-sr, you are canon in my heart). Her actual name is Primrose.

She’s two in the first season, and five by the end of the show’s runtime, since it takes place over the span of 3-ish years. She has some very rudimentary magic powers by that age, and can conjure a small orb of light, which she mostly uses as a night light. But growing up, those will because way more powerful (bask in the light of Primrose).

Maxime was very much conflicted about leaving her unofficial niece behind in the Fright zone, but she reasoned that P-M was safer with Hordak than she’d ever be with the Rebellion (and she’s not wrong, like, come on). She’s also the reason Max is so hellbent on saving Hordak from Prime; she doesn’t want to come home and tell P-M she couldn’t save him.

(Also goddamn, imagine your grandpa’s “brother” sees you, your dad, your aunts and your grandma and goes “eww dude gotta get purified, what the fuck did you create” like wow thanks dude I’m five)

[mordoriscalling]

Stay or Sail Away (5/6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  (@geraskier-trashh​ @negativenuggetz​)

A/N: oh lord this wasn’t supposed to be 3k words long XD Hope you like it tho!

***

It was a bad idea to tell Geralt not to wear all black. Well, the scarf is grey and the coat and the shoes are black, but they don’t matter. Geralt’s just taken them off to reveal a three-piece suit and a shirt with two top buttons undone, the clothing in a deep, navy blue colour. His eyes stand out beautifully against it. Geralt in navy blue makes Jaskier want to weep and it’s only half-past noon. To add to Jaskier’s tragic swoon, Geralt’s hair is braided away from his face into a lovely plait at the back of his head (which Jaskier suspects is Ciri’s doing). It just shouldn’t look as good as it does. Geralt is so stunning today that words other than what the fuck do not begin to cover it.

Not to blurt out that in lieu of a greeting, Jaskier spreads his arms wide and exclaims, “Ahoy, captain!”

Geralt snorts with disgust. “Never say that again.”

Jaskier laughs out loud. “Come in, come in,” he says as he ushers Geralt into the living room, “make yourself at home. Are you hungry? It’s last chance for a snack before I put on some eyeliner and we’re off!”

“Eyeliner?” Geralt repeats with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, to finish off this look!” he replies as he gestures at the floral Gucci suit he’s wearing. The outfit’s actually demure considering his usual fashion choices. Bright colours and ridiculous patterns are his go-to but today is the first day of his life when he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. Much. “Help yourself with something from the kitchen if you want,” he says over his shoulder, already leaving for the bathroom.

The makeup takes just a minute or two – eyeliner application has become much less of dark magic with practice. He decides to put on some pretty pink lip gloss as well because, although he’s going to spare his family today and won’t flaunt his queerness at them, he still has to do something. It’s not at all because he hopes his fiancé might like it.

(Geralt’s suit)

(Jaskier’s suit)

When he strides into the living room, he poses like a model and asks, “How do I look?”

Geralt, who sits on the couch, stares him up and down. His gaze almost makes Jaskier blush, so does his smirk. Both border on appreciative. “Really good,” he says.

Since Jaskier expected some mean comment, he almost topples over in shock at the compliment. He sputters, definitely flushing a bit, but quickly re-establishes a working link between his mouth and his brain. “Of course I do, darling,” he replies with a wink. Geralt smirks in that sexy way again. Jaskier has to give himself a good mental shake to stop staring. Clearing his throat, he starts thinking out loud, “So! Have I got everything for the party? I’ve got Geralt, and then the present, and then... Ah! The rings!”

Jaskier sits down next to Geralt and pulls the box out of the pocket of his jacket. Raising the lid, he reveals two rings seated within, one silver and one gold. “Should I kneel?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Geralt growls.

Jaskier laughs with delight, then takes out the silver ring and passes it to Geralt. It’a simple but chunky band with tiny engravings. Jaskier figured Geralt wouldn’t appreciate anything too showy. Geralt takes it and inspects what’s engraved on it. “What kind of flowers are those?” he asks.

“Buttercups,” Jaskier explains, “That’s what my name means. My grandma always told me I’m a jaskier.”

Pretty but poisonous. It’s extremely fitting.                                    

Geralt only hmms and slides the ring on his finger. It’s a perfect fit but it’s no thanks to Jaskier’s genius deduction or anything; he simply knew Geralt’s ring size because Geralt told him. After their phone conversation regarding ring preferences, family drama and other things, they kept talking. Geralt even began starting conversations by himself – he’d send some texts about Ciri like “Ciri says hi” or “Ciri’s playing that song again”. It made Jaskier melt every time.

“Look what you bought me in return, darling,” he says, smiling excitedly, and puts on the gold ring. It’s much more flashy than Geralt’s – a signet with a three-dimensional head of a wolf. “White Wolf” is apparently Geralt’s nickname and a pseudonym of sorts. Wolves are his favourite animals, too.

Jaskier holds out his hand, putting it next to Geralt’s on the couch, and admires the rings on their fingers. “They suit us,” he says quietly

Geralt hmms. “They do.”

The drive is two hours long. Geralt insisted on driving even though it’s Jaskier’s car. Jaskier has a suspicion that driving is an excuse not to listen to him as he’s going over the essential family drama, but it’s mostly for his own sake anyway. He just wants to delude himself that Geralt will be well-prepared for everything and all will go smoothly. They will be fine. They must.

When they pull up in front of Jaskier family’s mansion, panic and second thoughts wash over him alternately in cold and hot waves. As they walk out of the car and Geralt hands him the keys, Jaskier hides within himself and observes the reality unravel a sense of detachment. He doesn’t want to be a part of the upcoming disaster.

“Ready?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier only looks at him helplessly. Geralt offers him his arm and Jaskier takes it like a lifeline. He clutches on it, the touch grounding him, as they walk towards the front door silently.

“Should’ve guessed you were rich,” Geralt remarks as he takes in the mansion looming before them.

“My success in music is all my own,” Jaskier replies feistily, “it took me ten years.”

Geralt wisely doesn’t say anything else and Jaskier settles down, letting out a shaky breath. He always gets very defensive of his achievements. Sis parents paid for nothing; he never asked them to. He hates that people assume differently.

The entrance hall is empty when they invite themselves in, but not for long. Just as they manage to take off their coats, they hear someone coming down the stairs. Jaskier looks up to see Rozalia, his older sister. She’s only one year older than him but doesn’t look a day over thirty. In appearance, she’s all mum: luxuriant dark locks, cat-green eyes, tan skin, and regal features.

“Julek!” she exclaims with a smile and rushes down the stairs into Jaskier’s open arms. They laugh when their bodies collide.

“Hey, horror sister!” Jaskier says, the words their special greeting.

“Hey, wild brother!” Rozalia replies, as tradition commands.

When Jaskier releases her from his embrace, he goes on to introduce Rozalia and Geralt to each other.

“So this is your fiancé,” Rozalia drawls after she and Geralt shake hands, clearly amused, and looks Geralt up and down. “Holy shit. I can see why you kept him a secret.”

Jaskier purses his lips, putting a possessive arm around Geralt’s waist. “Roza, you’re married.”

Rozalia only smirks, then turns on her heel and starts walking down the corridor towards the living room. “Everyone! Julek’s here!” she announces loudly.

“Julek?” Geralt mutters to Jaskier as they start following Rozalia.

“Diminutive of Julian,” Jaskier explains quietly.  

“Sweet.”

“Shut up.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

Jaskier snorts under his breath but doesn’t reply. The sensation of detachment from the reality is there again and Jaskier doesn’t fight it – the distance between him and everything else wards off the impending panic attack.

Like in a dream, he sees his other sister Amelia, who’s five years younger than him, marching towards them, her mop of short golden curls bouncing up and down as she walks. With her sweet face and wide blue eyes (just like Jaskier’s, which they both got from their dad), she looks like an angel. (Spoiler alert: she’s not. She can be the worst. That’s kind of the youngest’s privilege, though).

When Amelia hugs him and Jaskier introduces her and Geralt to each other, he’s still in a daze. Amelia walks on his side as they all enter the living room, chatting about something to him, but he doesn’t really hear it due to the ringing sound in his ears.

“Jaskier?” Geralt’s voice rumbles.

Jaskier looks into the sun-like, concerned eyes. The warmth calms him down. 

He takes in everyone in the room: his parents, Alfred and Wanda. Amelia, Rozalia and her husband Silvio. Dad’s brother, uncle Konrad, with his wife and son Ferrant. Mum’s sisters, aunts Maria, Hanna and Anna with their husbands. All watching Jaskier and Geralt expectantly.  

Jaskier puts on his best smile and lays a hand on the small of Geralt’s back. “Everyone, this is Geralt Rivia. A Royal Navy commander,” he says and observes, delighting in the array of shocked reactions his family display. “My fiancé,” he adds with pride that he doesn’t even have fake.

A round of introductions follows. Geralt shakes everyone’s hands and says nice things like “honoured to meet you finally”, “Jaskier told me so much about you” and “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you earlier”. It’s actually pretty convincing, Jaskier has to give him that. Still, it doesn’t stop one of the questions Jaskier dreads the most.

“But why didn’t you tell us anything, darling?” his mum asks as everyone sits down at the table in the dining room.

This is it, Jaskier thinks mournfully, this is when it all goes to hell. At least Geralt sits next to him. It would be a quick departure – Jaskier will just grab his fiancé and run out of the house.

“Exactly,” Amelia seconds, her slender arms crossed before her chest, “it isn’t like you. You would tell the whole world about your engagement in some wild Twitter thread.”

Shit. She got him there. “W-well, I...”

“I asked him not to,” Geralt comes to the rescue. At the confused looks from everyone around, he goes on, “Not until I go on at least one more deployment and Jaskier’s absolutely sure he wants this. He should have it easier in case he changes his mind. Fewer people know about it, less painful it is to announce.”

Jaskier’s dad frowns. “But why do you assume he’d do that?” he inquires, regarding Geralt with suspicion.

“Being in a relationship with a marine officer is hard,” Geralt replies with a heavy sigh and makes a dramatic pause. Jaskier’s family looks at him with almost bated breath but he takes his time, the bastard. He already has them hanging off his every word. “My deployments are rarely shorter than nine months long,” he confesses ruefully.

A stunned silence falls over the room. Jaskier’s family stare at him with disbelief – they all know Jaskier wouldn’t be able to survive a relationship like that, not with how needy he can be.

Of bloody course Geralt would take it too far at the very start.

“But I’m stubborn!” Jaskier exclaims as cheerfully as he can, “Won’t have anyone else but Geralt.”

“Well, that’s all you,” Amelia says, and Jaskier heaves a sigh of relief.

It’s not that Jaskier doesn’t appreciate Amelia’s inquisitive mind. She’s always had the tendency to analyze and look into everything until every fact and detail adds up. Her character makes her the perfect heir to the family business, which she’s agreed to gladly. Ever since she made that decision, Jaskier choosing music is much less of a painful topic for their family. And so, Jaskier certainly values his younger sister’s nature of constant question-asking, but not in moments like this.

Amelia appears to already know what is going on here and Jaskier only prays she’ll be nice enough not to delve into it too much. Maybe some warning glances from Rozalia and begging ones from Jaskier will stop her. Maybe.

Food is served, alcohol starts flowing. Jaskier’s family begin asking Geralt about himself but Jaskier always tries to twist the conversation so that questions about their relationship don’t come. Until they do.

After they sang dad happy birthday, told him their wishes and gave him the gifts, it’s time to eat the birthday cake. Just when Jaskier puts half of his slice on Geralt’s plate (he doesn’t even like cake), Silvio asks, “When did you two meet?”

Geralt and Jaskier share a look. Jaskier opens his mouth to answer but it’s Geralt who says, “It was two years ago. I walked into a bar where Jaskier was playing. He asked me for a review of his songs after his performance.”

Geralt has the audacity to smirk at him so Jaskier, just to be a little shit, adds, “In three words or less!”

Geralt doesn’t appreciate this contribution judging by how he narrows his eyes at him. Jaskier knows they’re treading a dangerous ground – in their stupidity, they didn’t discuss the details of their “first meeting”. Geralt started it, though.

“And what did you say?” Silvio questions.

“That they don’t exist,” Geralt replies without a beat, still staring Jaskier in the eye.

“Whaaat don’t exist?” Jaskier’s father says what Jaskier himself almost blurts out.

“The creatures in his songs,” Geralt explains.

The affronted noise that leaves Jaskier's mouth is beyond his control. “It’s folk! The genre allows for fantastical elements like that!” He huffs. “But you know, Geralt with his commander mind always wants the facts and only facts.”

“So you don’t like Julek’s singing?” Rozalia asks Geralt.

Geralt denies this with a shake of his head. “Jaskier sings beautifully,” he replies, “Like a siren.” He lays his hand on Jaskier’s and looks into Jaskier’s eyes. “My siren,” he adds quietly.

Jaskier has to gape a little. He barely restrains himself from mouthing are fucking serious? because, really, Geralt can’t just say things like that. When he regains his composure, he decides to be mean. “I told you not to call me that, dear heart,” he says, “Not exactly flattering. Sirens lured sailors to their demise.”

Geralt does that lethally adorable head tilt and answers, “Still would go for you.”

He can hear aunt Maria cooing in the background, bless her heart, but Jaskier almost doesn’t register it. His attention is fully on Geralt – there’s something new in his gaze, beneath the teasing glint. Something guarded, tentative and true. Jaskier cocks his head to the side just a little bit. Geralt notices the question in the gesture (they’re really getting good at reading each other, aren’t they?) and answers by raising an eyebrow, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Jaskier experiences the feeling of a thousand butterflies fluttering their wings in his stomach when he understands – it’s an invitation. He accepts.

Geralt’s lips stretch into a small smile and he squeezes Jaskier’s hand on the table, intertwining their fingers together. Jaskier’s heart almost gives out and he grins, giddy like a teenager who’s just found out their crush is reciprocated. It’s not that far off from the truth anyway.

Uncle Konrad asks Geralt about the Navy. The two of them start discussing working in the army but Jaskier only half-listens, too focused on cherishing the feel of Geralt’s palm engulfing his. Until Geralt takes his hand away, that is.

With a displeased grunt, Geralt takes his phone out of the inner pocket of his jacket. The screen displays an incoming call. “I should take this,” he says apologetically and quickly walks out of the dining room.   

The moment Geralt leaves, the assault is unleashed upon Jaskier. His family bombard him with so many questions and remarks at once that he only hears what Rozalia sitting next to him says. “Didn’t know you were into older men,” she comments, swirling the wine in her glass innocently.

“He’s forty!”

She frowns. “Then what’s the deal with the hair?”

Jaskier freezes in panic. Fucking hell, what is the deal with the hair? He has no idea. Geralt refused to answer his questions. “W-well,” he stutters out, “it’s really... uhh...” He clears his throat. “Not my story to tell. Geralt doesn’t like to talk about it.”

Rozalia hums, an amused twinkle in her eyes. “How mysterious.”

“He sure does seem mysterious,” uncle Konrad chimes in, “And...”

“Quiet?” Ferrant suggests.

“Taciturn?” Silvio supplies.

“Closed off?” aunt Hanna adds.

“Why are you saying it like it’s a bad thing?” Jaskier cuts in, interrupting this merry-go-round offering of adjectives before it spirals into everyone calling Geralt a brute.

“It’s not,” aunt Anna reassures, “It’s just that... I’m sure I’m not the only one wondering how on earth the relationship is even working with him being like this and you being, well...” she trails off and gestures at Jaskier with her fork. “You.”

“Frist off, I’ll take this as a compliment –”

“Of course, dear.”

“ – and secondly, even though we’re different, our differences only keep things... interesting, if you get my meaning.” Jaskier throws in a telling wink, and his uncles chuckle.

“Julian!” both his parents cry out, scandalised.

“Honestly,” Jaskeir goes on, unmoved, “deep down, he and I are quite the same.”

“Indeed?” Amelia asks, “Is he also a bastard at heart?”

“Yesss!” he hisses out, wildly pleased. Sometimes he loves Amelia’s analytic mind.

“He actually seems like a sweetheart,” his mum says, warming Jaskier to his very heart. He loves his mum so much – she always sees the best in people.  

“He’s both, really,” he replies, “He’s certainly a sweetheart to his daughter.” Jaskier delights in shocking his family once again. Then, an idea pops up in his mind, “If you ask him about her, he’ll open right up.”

Before anyone can ask anything else, Geralt returns. After taking one look at him, Jaskier knows something is wrong. There’s tension about him but his face is a blank mask. 

“Something wrong, love?” Jaskier whispers, barely realising that he even said the endearment.

“Work,” Geralt grunts.  

“Geralt,” Jaskier’s father says, “Julian tells us you have a daughter?”

Geralt face lights up immediately. It’s such a charming sight. Jaskier’s chest constricts with how everything in him screams and begs don’t ever go. 

“Yes,” he answers and launches into talking about Cirilla – how old she is, where she goes to school, what she likes doing. How she loved to paint her little hands on the walls when she was six. Soon after that, everyone shares funny stories about children, either their own or themselves as kids.

Jaskier zones out a bit, too busy wondering why Geralt took his hand away when he reach for it.

Later, Jaskier’s parents invite Geralt to stay for the night, which makes the fake-fiance scheme a success; they wouldn’t allow someone who they thought to be a stranger to sleep in their house.

Geralt doesn’t take them up on their offer.

TBC

Part 6

***

A/N: Rozalia is the Horror while Jaskier is the Wild ���� (Amelia is the nasty angel baby. They adore her for it. Must protecc).

(Also, I love making up OCs, can you tell? XD)

[pl-panda]

Damienette arranged marriage: part 18

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Part 12 Part 13 part 14

part 15 part 16

Part 17

Damienette arranged marriage: part 18

NEXT

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“I think it will be best if I tell the truth.” She looked at Damian for a moment, but then returned her sight to Marinette. “It has mostly to do with your grandma. My mother had two daughters actually. Me and my sister. Her name is Sandra Wu-San, better know as Lady Shiva”

“What the fuck!?” Was Damian’s reaction.

---------------------

“Judging by Damian’s reaction, I guess she is not that popular…” Marinette stated, having no idea who was this ‘Lady Shiva’ beyond apparently her aunt.

“She is…” Her mother started, but this time it was Tom who stopped her.

“Sandra is an assassin, much like your husband.” He glared daggers at the boy, who felt shiver going up his spine. Perhaps it was because they were Marinette’s parents, but this two scared him on equal level as his father on bad day or angry Alfred. He’d only seen the butler in foul mood once. He could not really remember what caused it, but there was no stopping Alfred then. 

“Ex-Assassin Papa. Damian is a good person.” Marinette defended him. Sabine was about to say something, but the girl had none of that. “Damian is honest, caring and loyal. He was willing to give up his freedom to protect me and he tried to fight an akumatized Chat Noir to buy me time to escape.”

“Wait. Chat Noir got akumatized?” Her mother asked bewildered.

“tt. Yes.” Damian answered. “That moggy decided that he no longer wants Ladybug and instead went after An… Marinette” Luckily for him, neither of the parents acknowledged the nickname he started to give his wife.

“He probably got akumatized over something else and it just appeared this way…”

“As if!” Her father shouted. “I knew that boy would only bring trouble. If I get my hands on him, I…” Tom stopped himself before he said too much. His daughter might have been married (he still had hard time believing this was real), but she was a child nonetheless. “then I will hand him to Sabine!” He finally declared. It was not like he could invent any worse fate for Chat Noir anyway.

The mother in question turned to Damian with her cold stare. “I want you to be honest with me young man. Did that mogger do anything to my sweety?”

“He kissed her.” Damian answered truthfully.

“Tom! Get me my bag!” Sabine shouted. 

“Maman! It was because of the Akuma! You can’t go out and try to skin him alive…” Marinette tried to defend her partner. And I just thought I dissuaded one former assassin from extracting vengeance. She thought to herself.

“Oh Sweety! It doesn’t make it right.”

“Maman!/Mrs. Cheng.” Marinette and Damian exclaimed at the same time. Girl allowed her boyfriend/husband to speak first.

“While I would be more than eager to assist you in the hunt for the rascal, I believe the priority here is Marinette and what she wants.”

“Huff. Yes. You are right boy.” Sabine was not amused, but she gained some respect for the boy. He was considerate about her daughter’s opinion. At least that was a plus.

“I have one question.” Damian noticed that she relaxed a bit and decided to test his luck. “Sabine Wu-San was declared dead almost quarter a century ago. How is that you are here.”

“Well, I think I owe Mari this story and you are not leaving any times soon.” The last part held a underlain threat that he better stayed and explained himself thorough. She heard the retelling of the events from month before, but she still had more than a handful of questions for the boy. The kind that she would ask when Marinette went to bed. 

“You don’t need to Maman.” The girl quickly sputtered.

“It’s okay sweety. Given the situation you should probably know.” Sabine reassured the girl and took more comfortable position on the couch. “Well… My sister and I were raised to be perfect assassins. We were practically born into the League of Assassins. By the time I was twenty, I already mastered most of the conventional martial arts and weapons. But it was not what I wanted. I wanted out. I wanted freedom. I didn’t want to be just a killing machine.”

“Mmmmffffmfmf” Talia gave another muffled sound. This one was even more angry, but nobody cared what she 

“Oh! Shut up you murderous… “ Sabine stopped herself. “Would you cover your ears sweety? I must tell Talia some words that should not be said in presence of such sweetheart.” Marinette wanted to frown, but Damian took the chance and came closer to her and put his hands on either sides of her head. He scowled when Tom did the same for him. Both teens could see Sabine yelling something at the tied woman, but they didn’t hear anything. It lasted for quite a bit before finally much more cheerful woman gestured Tom that she was done.

“You feeling better Maman?”

“Yes Sweety. Where was I? Right. When I was twenty I run away. I faked my own death to make sure I was left alone.”

“I remember. That was the first time Lady Shiva emerged.” Damian recalled what he read in his father’s files when he was bored. “She was out for revenge. She was mercilessly tracking all people who had any connection with the case.”

“Yes.” Sabine admitted sadly. ‘It was almost two years before she found me.”

“So she knows you are alive?” Damian implied.

“Yes. Sandra is sweet once you get to know her. She comes on my birthday or at least send an overly expensive piece of weaponry. I keep it all in ‘The bag’.” Sabine chimed happily. “If she ever happens to be in Paris we make sure to go out for a coffee and catch up. 

“Maman! Why didn’t I ever meat Aunt Sandra then?”

“You did once. She posed as Wang’s assistant, remember?”

“That was her!?” Marinette remembered hazily that about four years ago Uncle Wang was accompanied by some woman who claimed to be there to deal with the press and the likes. 

“Yes.”

“Miss Cheng.” Damian started with a bit of a hesitation. “Are you aware that your sister had a daughter?” He asked unsure whether this was appropriate or not. His human skills were already put to the test here.

“Excuse me, but could you repeat?” Sabine asked befuddled. 

“Cassandra Cain. She is the daughter of Lady Shiva and another Assassin David Cain. At the moment she lives with my father in the Manor.”

“Oh…” Marinette watched as her mother was completely at the loss of words. “Excuse me why I go make a call and yell at certain family member. Damian. Be so kind and ask your father if it would be okay for me to meet her.”

“Will do madam.” The young Wayne actually smiled. He always respected Cass and was happy that maybe the girl would find some of her family. 

The happy atmosphere was broken when suddenly Talia crashed the chair she was tied to and freed herself.

“You are all in. So. Much. Trouble!” She spat through clenched teeth. 

——————————————————————————————————–

Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell  @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin @novicevoice @justafanwarrior @eliza-bitch @schrodingers25 @tired-butterfly @toodaloo-kangaroo

[sparklyicecube]

Scorching Romance

I JUST FINISHED ONE OF THE BEST MANHWAS EVER AAAAAH

Why you should read it: a review? Suggestion? Anyways.

Name: Scorching Romance

Status: Completed!!!

Length: 90episodes (pretty long but it’s worth it I swear)

Genre: Highschool romance

Quick summary:

‘Cursed girl who is constantly hot meets cursed boy who is constantly cold.’

Ok so:

Despite the ‘cursed’ parts we honestly don’t have magic running rampant in this place besides the fact that our two main characters genuinely feel really hot and cold to the point that Ember (the girl and hot one) can heat stuff up and give burns with body temperature, but mostly it is set in our normal universe. The start of the whole thing is pretty slow-paced with me not really that invested, but not turned off by anything. It gets reaaally action packed eventually and I nearly cried ahahahah.

The author is genius. The characters are honestly not one-dimensional, no matter what the story tries to trick you into believing, and the best part is that they introduce sooooo many characters in but by the time the story ends, there are virtually no loose ends and you are invested in all their stories. They don’t take advantage of misunderstanding nearly as much as they could realistically actually do and it will make you squeal!

I would say the overall theme of the entire thing is forgiveness and owning up. The amount of times someone said sorry for doing something awful and I genuinely believed them, because that ‘sorry’ just held all that weight.

Ten outta ten would recommend!!!

Spoilers from this point on! (I rant about my feelings on it down here)

OKAY SO THEY ARE SO CUTE I SHIPPED THEM SO MUCH AND AAAAAAAAA

I loved the dynamic between them and I love how they ended up being really truthful to each other and Aspen didn’t lie even though he thought about it :...) they’re so sweeeet

I looked at the chapter number when their curses broke the first time and was like waiiiiit. I then also wondered whether the rest would be just fluff scenes (not that I’m complaining) but the author really said “BUCKLE UP IT GONNA GET SERIOUS”

The author put so many references to little things that happened and tied everything together so nicely??? Also Trevor, idk when I started rooting for you but you were real. You and Moxie should get together. (You will never make it as a kpop idol because your bullying scandals) 

I think overall, I really liked how it all came together and ended?? They even had that Rocky dude go with someone else??

The forgiveness/repenting aspect of the entire thing was really amazing. Aspen kept saying ‘sorry’ for so much at the start and throughout, yeah he was genuine but he was also overusing it. Later on, ‘sorry’ became such a powerful word that was used in such serious cases, like when Harry’s grandma cursed Ember or when Monica burned the place down.

Can we talk about Harry???

HARRY is BEST BOY

At the start, even though I knew that it was Aspen and Ember I was like ‘does Harry sorta like Aspen though?’ and low-key shipped it but then he said ‘he’s too good for you’ and there was the whole “I DO NOT LIKE ASPEN” when being bothered by Ember and I think that is actually really sweet. We never get the answer to why he sticks with Ember, well, at least not explicitly, but we definitely know why. 

1. He and Ember were childhood friends, he saw her deteriorate to such a serious state and is willing to stick with her because they’re friends (serious state being both her heat and her temper as he sees how she did actually attempt to be nice to people only to be backstabbed)

2. She’s been there for him when very few people have. When Aunt Monica left him Ember was right next to him, that makes them very close and also feel like they’ve been through a lot, and so are willing to stick to each other more.

Harry not having any romantic interests in Ember or Aspen just makes him so much more appealing, he teases them, is there for them, and we can see how amazing he is and without having any romantic unerlying agendas! Love fuels a lot of stuff in this manhwa but so does platonic love and I love that for him. I also don’t think Megan deserves him, because she is too immature and honestly, still hasn’t figured out love yet. (Especially with the ‘buying him ice cream was worth it’) like GURL have you SEEN his HOUSE he does not need a sugar parent. Even until the end she eats ice cream with him, which just shows she can’t open up to him and she was honestly pretty childish thoughout the whole thing. Either way I love how the author baited us several times with Harry for us all to be like ‘Could it be??’ and then ‘I knew it.”

AMBER AND ASPEN”S RELATIONSHIPPPPP

I love how the whole thing played out to be honest. At the start, I didn’t like Ember’s attitude, or Aspen’s attitude but they both grew so much as people and their character growth through was just so amazing! You could see so many parallel’s where Aspen stands up for himself, where Ember is more restained, it’s *chef’s kiss* amazing!

One of the best bits was when Aspen couldn’t bring himself to lie to Ember, which was what I feared. It seemed like the worst misunderstanding ever but Aspen managed to trust Ember enough and vice versa, showing how far they’ve come. The two of them are now able to banter and converse freely, which both of them trusting in their love and relationship so much! 

Aspen trusting Ember was the bit thing I think, if he couldn’t trust Ember they would keep having these issues, but Ember had grown to be more trustworthy and Aspen had grown to be stronger and have better self-confidence.

At episode 64 or smth where Ember’s curse broke and I thought ‘are they going to have another 30 chapters of just fluff?” (not that I’m complaining), and they didn’t, but the fluff they did have was so cute!!! Also when Ember collasped and hugged Aspen after ‘faking’ a relaspe *sobs* it was so cute :.)

This next part will be a collection of little observations I found (there are probably still more) that I though were super cool!

1) Aunt Monica’s cigareete. We see her throw it as a little thing like a (I’m leaving/I’m outta here) thing when we first find out that she was Harry’s aunt, then we later find out that Harry’s grandma cursed Ember because of a fire from a cigarette butt from him. At that point no one realises what happened yet. Then she has an epiphany when some person from some car throws at her when it’s all dramatic (I thought that was Lucifer or someone going to burn her originally but it was just a random person) and then we find out it was all her! We even find out that the fire happened on the day of her leaving and no one realised! Anyways...

2) Hypnosis. Monica says in her little ‘angels club’ thing that they must wear sunglasses all of the time lest they hypnotise people. I read that, realised that Lucifer was from there, then went ‘wait a second...’ because Lucifer hypnotised Moxie!!! Several times!!! Cool easter egg I love

3) Remembering things. Aspen didn’t remember Monica from when he was so young, only his mom did, because Aspen was 1. Young and 2. Monica didn’t have much of an impression on him. I like it when author’s decide how much people can remember because let’s face it, even when we’re not children we don’t remember what we ate yesterday morning. Also, Ember not remembering that Monica told Harry to think of her as his mom. Same logic, Ember was young and it had waaaay more of an impact on Harry than anything. More than that, Monica left the next day and it would seem like an irrelevant detail technically.

4) Names. I love how they actually tied in names with meanings, it made it so easy to remember the names and it also made it not really weird and obvious (I’m looking at you J.K. Rowling) but integral to the story. One could predict what role they had in the story by their name. Rocky’s name particularly threw me off a bit, because I could tell it was based off the ‘Rocky mountains’ but was unsure of whether that was related to ‘cold water’ and just decided that it was, but it wasn’t as Aspen’s. Making him just ‘water’ was really nice because it gave us reason as to why Ember seemed to be helped by him but also make him just out of the picture as well.

5) The ice storage. Making the bodyguards faint and be cold too, especially wen they didn’t really coma (or at least, the second one) because we knew you had to go in involuntarily to no be in coma, very good detail.

6) Aspen still having the misunderstanding that Ember was up on that roof saving him to this day because it was never disputed. Ever.

There are totally loads more than that but I need to re-read it a few more times to spot them I suppose!

I think the only hing I want more content of in the whole thing is from Aspen’s dad. His guilt after what he heard his son and wife went through, his bonding with Aspen, him and his family, I feel like that was the only thing that was left unfinished and that I’d want to see more of. 

Finishing it off with a- how are you reading this part??? You must really like reading me ramble. Anyway, that might or might not be all from me on Scorhing Romance, I’ve been getting into manhwas lately and especially finished ones (bcs duh) so these rants might come in a bit more frequently but who knows.

Bye!

[vegetacide]

TaG: Bloodlines (Part 6)

Veg • notables: Little something for Fluffember .. works for several prompts... Brothers,  warmth and together...

Any errors in this are strictly my own

Ty to @gumnut-logic and @scribbles97 for the brainstorming help and the encouragement.

Previous: Part 1 | Part 2 Bit 1 & Bit 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Rating and General warning: Mature content head. If you are not a fan of medical issues of a female nature in relation to pregnancy please proceed with caution.

Characters: Virgil, Kayo, (V/K)  Scott, Alan,  John, Gordon and Grandma.

Location: TaG-verse AU | Tracy Island

E N J O Y

8-8-8

Part 6 - Keluarga

The flight home was thankfully an  uneventful affair.

Kayo had fallen asleep almost as soon as the jet’s door had been closed and Virgil had been by her side holding her hand the whole way back to their island.

When the island finally came into sight there was a collective sigh of relief. The stress of everything having sucked the energy right out of all of them and home meant safety, comfort and more importantly; sleep.

Tucking Kayo safely back into their marital bed saw Virgil relaxing for the first time since… well since he’d woken up that morning..God, had it only been twelve hours ago? It felt like a lifetime and the exhaustion weighed on him furiously.

Not that he would be able to get much sleep tonight.

Leaning over his sleeping wife,  he adjusted the sheets and brushed her forehead with a kiss.  She stirred slightly and turned into him, always one to seek his heat even on a tropical island and her eyes blinked open myopically.

“Shhh,  it’s okay.  We’re home.  Go back to sleep.”

Kayo snuggled further under the covers and quiet ‘Love you’  drifted his way as he emptied his pockets of his ID, wallet and personal communication.

A light knock on their door, had him turning and he toed off his boots to muffle his movements before he traversed the short distance.  Opening it he was only mildly surprised to find his brothers on the other side..  All of them.

Holding up a finger he glanced back into the room to make sure everything was in order and that Kayo would have everything she needed. Not that it looked like she would be rising anytime soon.  The whole affair of the day had done her in.

Truthfully, he was happy she was finally getting some rest even if it was ordered and dismantling Shadow had been in his back pocket as a way to convenience her.

Surprisingly though after going through all the details with his family when they were discharged, Kayo looked like she wasn’t in the mood for any more lecturing so the Shadow card hadn’t needed to be played.

She’d barely moved since they’d left the hospital except when he’d move her.   He’d woken her up long enough to pour a drink of electrolytes down her throat and a protein bar into her belly and she’d been out again barely after swallowing the lot.

An uncomfortable trip to the bathroom later which his Grandmother had seen to though he had been hovering just outside the door in case he was needed.  A change of clothes and into bed she went. Out like a light again before her head even hit the pillow.

He was done in himself but his brain was running in circles which didn’t look like it would be giving up anything time soon. So the company just outside the door was a welcome distraction.

Satisfied that his wife would be alright.  He set his comms to alert him if she woke up and carefully crept out the door.

“Hey Virg,”  Alan whispered, stepping up to his brother and giving him a hug.  “How’s Kay?  She gonna be alright?”

Virgil hugged his brother back,  taking the opportunity to ruffle his hair while he was at it.

Alan grumbled at the action and wiggled away.  Smoothing his hair back into place as soon as he was free  and Virgil couldn’t help the smile that upturned his lips at the disgruntled look his littlest brother shot him.

“Hey Space Case.  She’s sleeping but Doc said she’ll be alright. She just needs to get some rest.”

“Looks like you could use some yourself.”  Gordon observed and moved in for a hug as well.

“Thanks, Squid.  Glad you noticed.”

“Well someone has to keep you honest and Kayo..” His eyes did a sweep of him from head to toe. “Well, she’s blinded by all that muscle."

The swat Virgil sent the aquanau's way as easily dodged as he danced out of reach.

Laughing as he used Alan as a human shield who protested loudly at being manhandled,  he tossed out  “All that bulk is slowing you down,  you should lay off the protein shakes.”

Virgil just rolled his eyes.  Trust Gordon to do whatever he could to lighten the mood with whatever tomfoolery he had at his disposal.

It was at that point that he noticed John standing in the back of the crowd of brotherly forms.  “John, when did you get here?’

John just shrugged,  “Not long ago.  I came as soon as I could but that storm system off the coast made taking the elevator down impossible.

“It’s good to see ya in the flesh.” Virgil smiled, stepping forward enveloping the communications expert in a hug. John’s hugs were rare but the returned squeeze was given freely, a testament to the support system his brothers were offering.

“You too, brother mine.”

Scott stepped up next, though he’d been at the hospital with the couple. “Anything you need, let us know.”  He offered and the round of hugging continued.

“I know and I appreciate it.”

He could always count on his family when the chips were down,  there was no doubt about that.

Scott released him, one hand giving his shoulder a squeeze and tipped his head towards the door at Virgil’s back. “Doc’s made arrangements to come out in a couple weeks' time.  Just had the call come through with the details. Shouldn’t be a problem getting him out here for it.  Between us and Aunt Val we have plenty of pilots who can give him a lift.”

“Great,  I’m sure Kay will be thrilled.” The hand on his shoulder squeezed again and Scott gave him a knowing look.

“She’s a fighter.  Hates being benched just as badly if not more so than we do.”

“That’s what I’m worried about..”

“Meh don’t worry about it.  With the Great Doctor Sally Tracy with her sights set on her,  Kayo doesn’t stand a chance.” Gordon piped up.  “Trust me on that one. She’ll be lucky if she can manage to wiggle a toe without Grandma noticing.”

“Well she had to be super vigilant with you, Gordo. We still have no clue how you managed to change the electronic audio to Spanish from the couch.”

Gordon stood up taller,  primped in all his mastery of everything prankster.  “Trade secret. If I tell you, I would have to kill you.”

This time there was no dodging the swats directed at his head from three older siblings though Alan yet again shrieked in protest as he was tossed about like a sac of meat. 

Sally was a practical woman with simple tastes and simple pleasures.   A night of bridge with the girls at the local social club,   bocce ball every other Tuesday with fellow medical alumni and curling once a month with her bereavement group who had become like an extended family to her after her husband had passed.

Simple things, never extravagant.

She grew up with the mentality that to get what you wanted took hard work and determination.  Blood, sweat and tears was her motto through her years of medical training and her intern placement in one of the busiest hospitals in the U.S.

She’d worked hard to get where she was today despite the trials and tribulations of being widowed, dealing with her own grief and that of her son’s and taking charge of his young brood while he wallowed in his pain.

She didn’t fault Jeff for his actions,  she understood them intimately.  She’d lost herself in taking care of the boys to help keep the pain at bay.  Oftentimes pushing them just as hard as she did herself. In the end though despite the odds, she thought everything had turned out all right.

Was the road easy?  No.  Far from it.   Was there things she wished she had handled differently?  Of course.  Her son disappearing into a bottle of despair being one of them.  But the boys had been raised well by their dear mother even if only for a short time.

The eldest who remembered her memory took that care, love and devotion their mother had been known for and poured it into the younger two.  Doing everything within the power of their shattered world to keep the family in one cohesive piece even when their father was absent both mentally and physically.

They’d survived and come out the other end stronger than anything she could have imagined and she wasn’t afraid to admit it and how proud she was of every single one of them.

And true form when one of the brothers stumbled the other four were right there to steady him and get him back on his feet. Providing whatever support that was needed in their own individual ways.

When others would bolt,  her boys rallied.  Diving in head first to shore up whoever was in need.  It’s what made them great at what they did. That core strength of love and support radiated out of everything they touched and because of that they’d helped more than she could count.

Here she was,  coming to check on her adoptive granddaughter and her loving boys where right were she expecting them to be.  Standing as a unit outside Virgil’s door.  Surrounding him and holding him up with hugs, pats on the back and caring words.

She stopped and kept back a few paces, letting them have their moment and watching all the love. They deserved this moment cause they were few and so far in between.

Rescuing the world didn’t leave much time for brotherly interaction and these precious moments needed to be cherished.

Leaning against the wall, she allowed a soft smile to grace her lips.  Something in her movement must have alerted her boys though because no sooner had she settled than one by one they turned her way.  Not surprised in the least to find her there.

She looked at them, taking in the details of the men they had grown into and she locked the details away for safekeeping.

Scott with the little licks of grey at his temple a sign of the stress the last years had put on them all but his eyes sporting the beginnings of laugh lines.

Virgil,  his quiet nature and artist spirit.  Steadfast even with his wife just feet away resting with their babe growing in her belly.   As worried as he was for he felt things more deeply than all of them he put on a brave face. Not wanting youngest brothers to see him waver even though she knew he was.

His eyes spoke volumes.  She could see the exhaustion and fear in them but even so he graced her with a small smile in return.;

John, her star baby.  When had he come down?  Shocked, she frowned slightly as she took in his uniform. He’d need to wear that for a while until he acclimated to Earth’s gravity again.. A downside to living in the stars so far away.   How he managed the isolations, she had no idea. He’d grown up in a house so full of life until there hadn’t been but he’d silently held on.  Striving to be the best at what he did.  

Next was the vivacious Gordon.  Beams of sunshine in his hair and mischief in his eyes.  He’s seen and done a lot in his short life. Days so dark with despair as his broken body healed.  She’s spent many an hour sitting with him in the VA hospital watching and keeping him company as his body painfully knit itself back together again after every surgery but for all of it. He never complained with the exception of food.   Just grinned and bared it though she could see the cracks.  He'd come through it all, scarred and sporting a motley collection of surgical steel plates and bolts and kept on smiling.

And lastly her baby boy,  Alan. Her rocket man.   He’d missed so much in life.  A normal childhood, school, friends and typical boyhood misadventures.  First date,  prom, graduation but he’d still done the family proud and held his head up high.  He flew the stars and was living a dream most kids his age could only dream about.  A tender age but the top of his field and he got to fly a rocket ship.  What kid wouldn’t love that? 

Her boys.  No, her men.  Through diversity and trauma they all stood tall and together.

Pushing away from the wall she went to them and was lost in a sea of hugs.

8-8-8

TBC

NEXT

[carolineworld]

April 10th

Summary: How can a random day change your whole life so drastically? It can be for the best or for the worst, but it’s certainly something that will be with you forever. Senne knows so well what I’m talking about. This is his story.

It was a chilly Saturday morning in early April. The sun was just about to come out, but Senne has been awake for so long, even before the sun. It was pointless trying to get back to sleep when his mind was going nuts, and even more, when going back to sleep meant nightmares after nightmares. This bloody day is cursed, it is for him.

April 10th, what a double side weapon. The day that changed his life forever. The day he obliviously jumped into that car without knowing that that was going to be the end of everything he knew and loved. The day he got severely injured and the day he lost his beloved sister. After that day everything was different for him. His relationship, his family, his actions, his fears, his whole identity, it all changed on that damn car. 

April 10th not only is the worst day of his whole life, but it’s the day where the world gave him the greatest gif he could imagine.

When Senne met Zoë he knew from the very first moment that she was special, and she was going to show him a different side to everything, a better world, and a better version of himself. He never knew what love was until he met her. Zoë was the best blessing the world could have given him and he couldn’t be more thankful for her and the new man he was because of her. Their relationship is not perfect, even to this point it’s not, but is the most truthful way to love somebody, and it’s the greatest decision they made. They’ve been together for ten years now, five of those years as a happily married couple, and they couldn’t ask for a better life. It was never easy, but the solved every problem and celebrated every win, and after so long they can proudly say they’re down forever.

April 10th is the day Zoë and Senne received the greatest gift they could get. When they got married, and after some years in pure bliss, the question of a child started to pop in their heads, helped by Amber having a child with Aaron and Robbe and Sander thinking about adoption. Coming from much fucked up families and extremely distant parents, with all the problems, issues, and fears that caused in them, the thought of actually becoming parents themselves scared the young couple. It was something they, as a couple, never thought about, at least not deeply and considering every option or issue. But the subject was in the room and it was becoming bigger and bigger till the point where they couldn’t ignore it anymore, and after very long talks and a few meaningless discussions they decided to try, without any pressure, to have a child. 

Zoë’s pregnancy was smooth, happy, and easy. It was the announcement of the year, and the child that was coming into the world was going to be so loved, with all its new uncles, aunts, and cousins that it was going to have. The surprise came when they discovered that it was going to be the first girl of the new generation of the group, after Amber and Aaron’s baby boy Adam and Robbe and Sander’s baby Willem. 

Initially, the new De Smet family member was going to be named Louise, just like the only family member Zoë appreciated, her grandma from her mother’s side. It was a beautiful name everyone liked, but something was off for Senne. 

He’s a smart guy. He graduated university with a major in architecture, he has a job as an architect and interior designer in one of Belgium’s best construction companies, and to do that he knew you need math. So when he did the math, and Senne realized that baby Louise was coming mid-April, he panicked. They have been told that the baby could come early, the day it was supposed to come, or even a few days later, as it was unpredictable to know exactly when the birth could happen. So far in the pregnancy, everything was going just as planned, but when Zoë’s water suddenly broke on April 9th late at night, five weeks earlier than expected, Senne realized that the date that ruined his life could dramatically change.

On April 10th, 2027, Amelie Loockxs De Smet was born, at 5:29 am. The name change wasn’t Senne’s idea. Through the whole birth, he tried to be as helpful as possible, reassuring the incredible job Zoë was doing and even getting emotional once he saw her in his arms. But when the baby fell asleep and it was just the two of them, Zoë brought her newest idea. 

She’s also very smart, too. She graduated from university with a major in journalism and a minor in law, and she knew her husband better than she knew herself, so she knew exactly what day it was. Ever since she knows him, she knows April 10th is a tricky date for him. The days before and after the 10th he shuts down in all ways possible. He doesn’t communicate, he turns cold and unreachable, he pulls all his walls up. She being pregnant changed nothing in his grief mechanism and she wanted to help too, so the idea of changing the name of the baby as a tribute to his late sister wasn’t too bad for her. Of course, the conversation didn’t go as Zoë planned, as it was such a tricky subject to touch, but once Senne thought about it instead of shutting down, he realized it was the best decision.

Senne believes in destiny, in fairy tales. He told Zoë that at the very beginning of their story. He felt that when he met Zoë, when he asked her to marry him and when she told him she was pregnant. In those three moments in his life, he knew that that was written for him. 

His sister was his first true love, the first time he discovered trust, love, and to care for someone, and he lost that too soon. Luckily, he found the love of his life, his stubborn and perfect Zoë. And now, on April 10th, coming full circle, that caring and protective love he felt with his sister was now a full force with his daughter, Amelie. 

Three years later, on April 10th, 2030, his baby girl Amelie turns 3. She’s a smart kid, she recognizes her name whenever she sees it written, she can understand bigger things now, and the conversation of telling her the meaning behind her name and her birthday is up. 

Zoë is upfront on telling her, she’s sure Amelie will understand, but the fear and memories that come back haunt him. It doesn’t matter how many hours he spends doing therapy, how many times he speaks about it, with Zoë, Milan, Luca, Robbe… it doesn’t matter because it still hurts like the first day.

The sound of little feet on the ground makes him smile. His baby girl is as curious and impatient as her mom, and he knows it’s a matter of seconds till she comes to their room and starts screaming. Quickly checking on his beautiful wife and he cannot contain a smile when he sees her happily sleeping, unaware of the almost three hours he’s been awake. A question pops in his head, “do I wake her up with the fear of she getting mad at me before Amelie does it, or do I let her sleep for two more seconds before the hurricane we have for a daughter comes in and scares the shit out of her?” He has two seconds to think of what should he do, but Amelie is faster than his mind and out of nowhere, and with a very loud scream, their baby girl comes into the room shouting “it’s my birthday, dada”, waking her poor mother and making him laugh.

Fifteen years after his little sister’s death, and three after the birth of his precious daughter, Senne can say that April 10th is the best and worst day of his life. He knows his sister is looking after him, his wife, and his kid, and he knows that his daughter is a gift from her. It was written, and he wouldn’t change a thing.

1387 words.