#i am so normal after that special (lie i cried for half an hour to my friends)

[surreal-duck]

I can't do this.

shoutout to girls who are so emotionally repressed in order to take up the reliable role between their friends to the point of breaking down and exploding from the stress you deserve every hug and comfort in the world

[meichenxi]

tldr; autistic parents are fantastic and fuck you if you think otherwise, signed, a disaster queer adhd daughter

So on the back of a lot of negative stuff I've been coming across recently I wanted to take a moment and talk about my dad. He is autistic and chronically ill, and has been unable to hold a job down since I was eight or nine. He only ever responds with brutal, crushing honesty when I ask him how he is (and as he's chronically ill, the answers are rarely fun); he doesn't have any close relationships with any other adults and is so afraid of crowds he sprints through them leaving the children to run after him as best they can; he very rarely told me I was doing well and never seemed to understand my point of view, much less my mother's; he would never talk about anything other than bloody knitting, rocks or conservation, he could eat approximately 0.5 foods but also had no job to buy anything better; he frequently goes around naked because 'it feels nice' causing me to SCREAM -

He's my favourite person in the entire world.

Growing up, there were so many things he taught me. His special interests were geology, nature conservation, wildlife gardening, taiji, mythology and knitting. When we were kids, we went out for long walks for miles and miles in the drizzling British countryside - when I was young, my brother and mum would lag behind and me and my dad would skip ahead, jumping over the rocks, and he'd tell with great excitement why THAT twisty line of quartz was actually less exciting that this outcrop here; he'd teach me about the Salmon of Wisdom and the folk that live over the sea and never grow old, and impress on me with utter seriousness how I must never tell a stranger my name unless they tell me theirs first; he'd sit down with me and draw patterns for a jumper he was thinking of in the mud with a stick, and then we'd have a sword fight. I never understood half of the things he told me, but listened with wonder, because he was my dad, and he knew everything.

When I was a little older, we made up stories that lasted for hours, and memorised poetry together from Lord of the Rings (because THERE our interests collided with galactic force) and he'd do all of the voices just perfectly. We went one whole summer just quoting LOTR to each other, and it was our little secret: Mum might hear 'Yes,' but only I would hear what came after: 'Yes,' said Frodo, or 'Yes!' cried Boromir. And when I told him my story about a woman who lived in a volcano he listened quietly and told me that that wasn't how volcanoes worked, but that he could help me write it better.

Everybody's autism is different. For my dad, it rendered him completely incapable to work and was paralysing in social situations, but when it was just me and him, he told the most wonderful stories. I wanted to be a geologist just listening to his voice, and then a writer, and then finally someone who understood the land like he did and the sea.

And he made me feel normal. He made me feel heard. With my mum, as much as I loved her, I would get vague noises of assent as she struggled to look after everybody in this damn house, or irritable 'Would you just be quiet for ONE second?' I was a talented kid, and everybody praised me at pretty much everything: but the only person who would consider anything I wrote like it was an adult's writing, with seriousness and criticism, was my dad. He didn't tell me I did well often. Instead he would take my picture, or my writing, and look at it with great seriousness, and ask me WHY the Queen was so intent on kidnapping beautiful princesses in the first place. I could trust him to tell me whether I did something well or not, because he never, never lied. Not to please me, and not to please anyone. It cost him his marriage and his job, but it was a rock of stability in my life : my mother was volatile, frequently furious enough to resort to violence, and she lied and laughed and told us what we wanted to hear, but he was always reliable. If he was angry, we knew.

When I spoke for hours about my languages, he listened, nodded, and then spoke about his plants. It was a perfect give and take because I didn't expect him to care about my languages, and he never expected me to care about his plants. We just cared about the other.

And when I didn't make any friends and couldn't interact with the other children without despair he was always there with a silent offer of a bike ride, or catch in the park. He was always the fittest person I knew, despite his illness. He had lots of grand ideas - once he climbed the tree outside our house and tried to rig up a platform fifteen metres above the ground. After three days he was inconsolable. He wouldn't speak, he just sat there. But a few days later he started drawing up plans and attacked it again, and this time it worked.

My dad is great for a lot of reasons, and difficult for a lot of reasons too. Some of these are just him - but some are specifically related to his autism, and I think it's important that we talk about that too, especially in the context of parenthood. Because we see a lot of positivity about young autistic adults and kids, but older adults are just as valuable and just as in need of support and recognition, particularly because they may have gone through so much. My dad was made to stand in a bucket of urine for three days as a kid to 'pull himself together'. Spoilers: it didn't work.

And I'm not autistic myself, but many of my ADHD behaviours are so much easier around him because he just. gets it. If I don't like a certain food because of the texture, he never buys it again - I don't need to explain myself. We leave all social events early, which is wonderful because he is very stressed and I am either so high on adrenaline I'm in danger of injuring myself or exhausted to the point of not being able to talk. We run through crowds together because he hates crowds and I like the chance to stretch my legs. We don't touch or keep in contact very much, because neither of us see the point or like small talk, and I'm terrible at messaging anyone, but I know (and he knows) as soon as we need each other we're there. We do handstands on the beach together and he points out plants on the way back along with their Latin names. He never bothers me about talking to my friends or stopping clowning and watching my stupid shows or spending ten hours a day on Chinese or Tolkien. He never mocks me for needing space and time after anything. We lie on the concrete together because it's so damned warm and nice and adgshhhhh. We spend hours playing taiji and doing push hands in the kitchen, and our 'love language', if you will, is him trying to throw me to the ground. We both get 100% of our emotional intelligence from books, and in any arguments can use this to great effect. I talk at him for an hour, and then he talks at me for an hour. I know so much about fucking willow trees.

So people who say that autistic parents are cold and incapable of care? My dad was the most sincere, honest and helpful parent a child could have ever asked for. Things were difficult, but it helped me understand that parents too have needs, and that adults are all just grown up kids trying their best. I didn't know why he was different as a kid, and I didn't much care - I just wanted to be a geologist like my daddy.

[harryhandstan]

wonderful and warm

gif credit

I’m so excited to share this piece with y’all for @tbslenthusiast​‘s dad-a-thon!! I’ve been debating whether or not to expand more on I Want Your Belly for a while now, so I’m considering this part two to that, though you don’t really have to read it first to understand this one. Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

thank you @peachybloomss​ and @tbslenthusiast​ for beta reading for me! love y’all both!!

word count: 2.6k

//

You had been adamant about not telling anybody for at least the first two months. 

Your mom’s complications with each of her pregnancies prompted a fear in you that you might share in that gene she carried, so you just wanted to be sure. Make it to your first ultrasound at least to confirm the baby was happy and healthy. Harry, of course, had agreed to whatever it was you felt was best. He wanted you to be comfortable and truth is, all the complications or things that could go wrong, terrified him too.

But the second you put this man in front of a crowd, all his previous filters go out the window and it was slipping from his lips easily, telling the world that you were having his baby. You were angry at first, spending half of the show trying to calm your shaky hands. Honestly, most of it was just nervous energy at the idea of so many people knowing. It was out, and you had no control over the reactions of the millions of people that shared in loving your Harry. He was quick to remind you that you were the one he loved, no one else’s opinion mattered to him and it shouldn’t to you either.

Making such a public announcement meant the news reached your families ears a lot faster than you’d planned too, and you just didn’t want any of them to be hurt that they weren’t told first.

Anne is the first one to contact Harry from his side, promptly inviting you to dinner the following weekend with a small group of Harry’s family. But the closer you get to the day, the more anxious you are and he once again reminds you how much his family adores you already, would now love you even more.

“Even more than they love me now, probably,” He chuckles, taking your hand on the drive to his mother’s house, “Gonna be just like any Sunday dinner at Mum’s, innit? We just have something a little extra special t’celebrate now, lovie.”

Gemma answers the door to let the two of you in and she tugs you in for a hug, pulling you into the house without so much as a glance to her younger brother.

“Nice to see you too, Gem.” He follows the two of you inside, shutting the door behind him.

“Ignore him..someone’s just jealous they won’t be Mum’s favorite anymore.” She giggles, rolling her eyes as she leads you into the kitchen where Anne mimics her daughter’s greeting, scolding Harry playfully that he spoiled the surprise so soon.

By the end of the night, the two of them are already making predictions about what the baby will be, giving family name suggestions, and planning a baby shower for you. 

//

Calling your family was a whole new level of anxiety you hadn’t experienced yet on this journey, and you paced back and forth in front of the desk where your iPad was already set up to FaceTime them. Harry sits on the foot of the bed, waiting for your nerves to settle enough to contact them.

“D’you want me to join you?” He doesn’t look at you, just continues to fiddle with one of the buttons on his shirt.

Your head pops up to where he sits, “Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugs, “S’just..sometimes I think you might still be a bit mad at me. For letting it slip earlier than we wanted. Thought you might wanna talk to them alone first..in case they’re upset with me too.”

“I was never really mad. And I don’t think they’ll be upset..just may take them a little longer to accept that I didn’t tell them before you told everyone. They may not have even seen it yet.”

That was a lie. Your sister had texted you last night saying that she was thrilled to soon have a niece or nephew, but your mom had cried for a two whole days after they saw a clip from the show and your dad refused to even talk about it. Your brother was normally so far out of the loop that you truly didn’t know if he had heard the news, so you make a mental note to call him later too. 

You wouldn’t tell Harry any of that though, not now anyway. Maybe later, when everything didn’t feel so tense. You knew your family wouldn’t be upset forever, they loved Harry almost as much as you did. The joy of having a new baby added to the family would soon override any hurt they were feeling now.

“Harry, whatever they say..this is still happening. I’m still having your baby. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy that makes me.”

The smile he gives you makes your heart flutter, drawing you closer to sit next to him.

“Say that again.”

“What? How happy I am..”

“No, the part before that.”

A giggle works its way up through your chest, a deep blush flushing your cheeks, “I’m having your baby,” You can’t resist, the tune now stuck in your head, changing the lyric slightly to fit, “It’s none of their business.”

“What? S’your family, of course it’s their..oh, right.” He shares in your laughter, melting away any tension that had settled in the room, restoring your confidence that everything would be alright.

//

As many changes as your body had gone through during pregnancy, one thing that hadn’t changed was Harry’s love for your belly. His obsession had grown with each month, constantly finding reasons to be close to you throughout your days spent together. Usually it was a hand nudged gently against the side of your bump, trying to coax the baby to kick or move for him.

Your child already adored the sound of their dad’s voice, would normally start to wiggle around the second Harry would start talking or singing anywhere around you. The first time it happened, the two of you were attending a birthday party for a friend and Harry was halfway across the room, animatedly telling a story to a group of your mutual friends. It was one of the many reasons you had fallen for him so quickly, his ability to have a room full of people so captivated by a tale you were sure they had heard at least 5 times before. 

But he doesn’t seem to care about anyone else’s reactions, his eyes continuously flicking back to gauge your feedback, knowing which parts make you laugh the hardest no matter how many times you’d listened to him tell it. When your mouth falls open with a soft gasp and a hand clutching the side of your belly, he hurries through the ending to weave his way back through the party to you.

“You okay, love? Somethin’ wrong?” The tears falling on your dress don’t match the glowing smile radiating across your face and he’s turning his head amusingly from where he hovers over you.

“Everything’s great, H. Think someone just loves the sound of daddy’s voice.” You take the drink he still holds in his hand and set it on the table in front of you, turning your body to face him and tugging his wrist down to where you had felt the kick moments before, “Say something else now that you’re closer. See if she moves for you.”

“She? You find out somethin’ you wanna tell me, darlin’?”

“No, just a feeling. Haven’t you thought about which you would rather us have?”

He shakes his head no, his eyes bright with a pride you’ve never seen burn so intensely, “As long as you and they end up happy and healthy in the end, s’all that matters to me.”

He scoots his body to sit on the bench next to you, bending his head to speak softly, “Hello, little one. S’daddy. Mummy’s here too. Wanna move around a bit more f’us?”

He rests his head there for a moment, a hand rubbing along the side of your stomach, not caring who at the party may see the two of you or how silly he may look. He looks like a child who’s just been granted his one and only wish when your baby responds, a foot landing against where his cheek is pressed.

“There you are, baby. You kickin’ at me? Cheeky little thing y’are already..just like mummy, huh?” He turns to kiss the spot where the foot had been, ”We’re g’nna have so much fun when you get here, angel.”

//

Harry watches your feet a lot more closely these days.

You didn't notice it at first. But today as you're coming down the stairs, you catch his eyes watching carefully as he waits for you. One of your hands cradles your bump that seems to be growing daily now, while the other glides along the railing to keep yourself steady.

"Am I wearing mismatched shoes or something?" You lean forward in an attempt to look at your feet over your belly, nearly toppling down the last few stairs. The look on Harry's face would have been comical if it wasn't laced with so much fear as he lunged forward to meet you and help you the rest of the way down.

"Careful!" Even with you settled safely now against his side, his voice is full of worry, "Nothing's wrong with your shoes, honey. Just wanted to make sure you made it down safely, know how clumsy y'are."

"You worry too much, Harry. I would've made it down fine if you hadn't been staring at my feet."

"My girl's carrying my baby..m’allowed to worry about you both. Y'sure I can't convince you to stay home and let me do the grocery shopping this week?"

"No, I wanna go. Last time you forgot the bagels."

"Are you ever gonna forgive me for that?" You're glad to see the fear has fallen away from his face as you both reach the bottom of the stairs together.

"Maybe." You shrug, "Might take a few more kisses though."

"Deal." One of his hands comes to rest warmly on the underside of your belly, the other one still supporting the small of your back as he bends down to place kisses across your face.

A kick from within your stomach has both of you giggling and looking down to where it's pressed between the two of you.

"Are you mad at daddy too, hmm? Already two against one around here, I see. Alright then, baby gets kisses too."

//

“Harry will you please get up? We only have an hour to get ready and make it to the appointment. I don’t wanna be late!”

He rolls over, intending to pull you closer to him for a morning kiss, an important part of his usual routine. He frowns when he finds you’re already out of bed, digging through drawers of your dresser to find what you need to get ready for the day.

You haven’t noticed he’s awake yet so you keep encouraging him, “C’mon, made you breakfast. It’s an important day!”

“You’re not allowed to do that, y’know.”

“Do what?” You’re only half paying attention, tugging a dress over your head and scowling at your reflection in the full length mirror when it doesn’t fit over your belly. You quickly pull it back off and toss it in the pile you’ve already tried (and failed) to stretch over your growing bump.

“Daddy’s s’posed to make breakfast for mummy while she sleeps in, not the other way ‘round.”

“Well, mommy was too nervous to sleep in so she’s up getting ready, as daddy should be!” You tug one of your maternity shirts from a hanger in your closet and throw it over your head, declaring to yourself that it’ll just have to do. Thankfully it pairs well with the black leggings you’ve already struggled through pulling on. You plop on the edge of the bed, a deep sigh falling from your lips as you look around at the mess you’ve made of your shared bedroom.

“Mummy needs to relax. She looks beautiful in whatever she wears, no matter what day it is.” He rubs a hand along your back, up to soothe over the pinch between your shoulder blades.

“Nothing fits anymore, swear this belly gets bigger by the day. If I find out today you put a set of twins in me, Styles, you are gonna be in so much trouble.” 

He throws his head back, a deep rumbling laugh erupting from his chest, “Aww c’mon, lovie. Twins would be so fun! Think we’d get lucky and have one of each? A boy and a girl?” He kisses your shoulder.

He’s pulling you in to rest against his chest now, the fabric of his well worn t-shirt cool and soft on your cheek. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss firmly to the top of your head.

“Just lay with me a minute, hmm? Did you get any sleep last night? Felt you tossing and turning for half of it.”

“Maybe a couple of hours. I was too nervous.”

“You should’ve woken me. Hate the idea of you being awake and nervous alone, honey.” One hand trails up to cup your chin, a thumb smoothing over the tension set in your jaw.

“I honestly don’t know how you got any sleep. I wasn’t alone though, I think I kept the baby up half the night too.” You shift to face him, resting your chin on his chest, seeking the comfort of his face, “Are you okay? You’re not nervous at all?” 

“M’fine. What’s to be nervous about? We get to see our baby today, find out what it is. I couldn’t be happier about that.” He brushes a strand of hair softly away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Maybe it’s more excitement than nerves. I just felt..restless. Maybe it’s silly, but I just wanted to look nice today too and none of my good clothes fit me anymore.”

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, baby. But now? I’ve never seen anyone look as gorgeous as you look now. S’important to me that you know and believe that as much as I do. I’ll remind you everyday if y’need me to.”

“You really mean that, Harry?”

“‘Course I do. I know this has been new and scary for both of us, and I’m so proud of you. You’ve fallen into this with such ease and grace, already started gettin’ our home ready for our little one. I can’t wait to see you with them when they’re born.”

“You’re gonna be the most amazing dad. Teaching our child kindness and love, reminding them it’s okay to be whatever they choose to be. It’s important to me that you know how much I adore you and seeing you become the dad you were meant to be? It’s gonna be incredible. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

“Me either. Think I’d be miserable if it were anyone else.” 

“Nah you’d get used to them eventually. Especially if they were having your baby.”

He laughs again, pulling you closer to smush his lips against your temple. 

“Alright, up we get,” He scoots away to push himself up and off the bed, offering you his hands to help pull yourself up, “Let’s go see if our little bub got blessed with your nose or cursed with mine.”

//

You’re over the moon every time you see Harry’s beaming smile when he passes the black and white sonogram photo now proudly displayed on the refrigerator; your son’s nose a perfect mixture of yours and Harry’s.

[permian-tropos]

discourse about fiction? what discourse? I am just a humble fiction writer? anyway I wrote a very short story about dolls

-

Once upon a time there was a little boy and a little girl clinging to each other’s hands as they stood in the doorway of a sickroom, where an old man lay motionless on the bed. A stranger twice or thrice the size of the children in a long dark coat and a black bag full of unspeakably strange tools stood beside that bed, as he’d done every two days out of the last few weeks. This time he said, “There’s nothing I can do for him but close his eyes,” and swept out of the house without another word.

After the funeral, the children were left to themselves for a while and they both found they were bored of the games they used to play. They put away the toys they once loved in an old toy chest and buried them, turning the contents of the chest over like they were tilling a patch of soil. Now on top of the chest, that had once been at the very bottom, was a doll of a man in a long dark coat with a black bag sewn to his hand.

The little boy took the doll with him to play first, out in the sandpit in the park, and when he set the doll into the sandpit, a most marvelous thing happened: it stood upright on its own and with wide button eyes it peered around at the world of giants it had found itself in.

“Who are you?” asked the little boy in amazement.

“I’m a doctor,” said the doll proudly, “and a miracle worker. In fact I’m famous for it; I’m the man who fights Death, the greatest evil!”

“Wow! That’s a good game!” The little boy clapped his hands in excitement and began building a magic city in the sandbox so that the doll would have places to see and adventures to go on. The stories they told were like nothing he’d ever imagined before, because of course this was the first living doll he’d ever owned.

Every day the boy ran out early in the morning to play with his doll, and eventually the little girl felt left out. She didn’t know what was so special about the doll yet, but she knew the little boy was having so much fun, while the games she tried to play alone made her angry for reasons she couldn’t explain. Every night she slept quite badly because she saw frightening shapes lurking in the shadowed corners of the room.

One morning she grabbed the doll out of the toy chest and hid it somewhere the little boy wouldn’t find it, and even though he looked all over and cried and stamped his feet, eventually he got in trouble for making a fuss and had to run off and play with his old dead toys for once. The little girl took the doll with her to the sandbox now, and set it down in the middle of it. She gasped when she saw the doll sit up and stretch its limbs.

“Who are you?” she asked it.

“I’m a charlatan,” the doll sneered at her. “I take my wicked bag of tools to sick people’s houses and I poke them and prod them until I get bored with them, and then I leave them to be buried in the ground. I’m Death’s best friend.”

“That’s just what I thought you were!” the little girl exclaimed, and grabbed him in her fist and shook him vigorously, rattling his button eyes. “You’re the bad thing in our house. But this time I’m bigger than you. I’ll stuff you in a marble bag and won’t let you get out.”

She did just that, and tied the cord tight, and put it in her pocket for safekeeping. She played all day in the sandbox, and found that the games didn’t make her angry anymore. At night, she finally slept without tossing and turning, knowing the bag with the wicked doll was knotted up tight in the pocket of her dress.

Well, eventually secrets come out, and the little boy found that the little girl had hidden the doll in her pocket.

“You’re so mean!” he yelled. “We were having so much fun!”

“I’m not mean! Don’t you know it’s an evil doll, and it brought Death into the house? You can’t let it out. As long as it’s stuck in the bag, it won’t hurt us anymore!”

“It’s not evil at all!” insisted the little boy. “When we play, we’re fighting Death!”

The girl tried to grab the bag back from him. “You don’t know about scary things like I do. That’s why it lies to you and tells the truth to me. Because you don’t know the difference.”

“You’re just jealous! I want my friend back!” the little boy cried, and he pulled the doll out of the bag, but the little girl grabbed it by its legs and hung on tight, and the boy fought her and tried to pull her hair, and she scratched him and kicked his shins, and eventually--

With a loud rip.

Of course, the doll was torn in half.

The children both sat down and cried, not knowing what had come over them, because they’d never fought like that before.

Sometime later, on a windy, gray day, the two of them stood side by side in long black coats, laying flowers on the dry earth in front of a granite headstone.

After the visit, they went behind a gnarled old tree in the cemetery and there they dug a shallow grave with the toy shovel they normally used for the sandbox, and laid the doll to rest in a folded paper coffin.

For days and days the boy was sad and silent and wouldn’t talk to the girl at all, and she felt confused and wretched about what had happened. A plan formed in her mind to mend their friendship so they’d play together again someday. She stole a needle and a red thread from a drawer and snuck them out to the cemetery, then dug up the soil under the shade of that old tree. The doll was where they’d left it, lying in two pieces in its slightly crumpled paper box.

Though she wasn’t very good at sewing, the girl sat for hours and stitched the doll back together, making sure that its top half wasn’t twisted wrong or the stitches were too sloppy. When it was whole again, it had a red scar around its belly. The girl laid it on one of the tree’s bulging roots and waited with bated breath. She was still a bit wary of it, and held the needle like a weapon ready to pin it down if it tried to run away.

But when it finally, miraculously, began to move its arms and legs, she couldn’t bring herself to attack it. She’d never brought something back to life before. She might as well have been playing God. Realizing something so frighteningly vast made her eyes prick with sharp tears.

The doll asked her first, before she could speak, “Why did you sew me up, little girl?”

“What’s the point of you?” she asked. “Why did you lie to one of us? You can’t be all good if you’re a liar, but I feel bad for what I did to you anyway. I don’t know why I feel bad!”

The doll straightened its coat out a bit and then opened up its black bag a crack. A very nasty, scary smell came out of it, and the girl pinched her nose and flapped her hand to clear away the air.

“What’s that awful stuff?” she said.

“That’s Death,” the doll told her. “All that time I playing with the boy, I was going out into the cities he built and I gathered up as many little pieces of Death as I could find. I carried them all inside this bag, but I couldn’t destroy them like I so arrogantly promised him I would. Eventually someone had to seal them away somewhere safe where they couldn’t get out. You did the right thing and so did he. You mustn’t cry, pumpkin. I love you both very much.”

The girl kept crying anyway, not sure if she was sad or relieved. She picked up the doll and hugged it to her chest, and shed snotty tears for a few minutes, before wiping her face and asking, “Why do you love us, though?”

“Dolls only come to life because of someone else’s love,” he explained, long-sufferingly wiping a bit of phlegm off his hair. “Before that we’re just cotton and rags. There’s nothing special or loving about cotton and rags, but think about this: when you wrap them over an open wound, they become a bandage. Things can become other things. Dead materials can turn into loving, living beings.”

Even though she didn’t really understand what that meant yet, she nodded. “What shall I do with you now, though?”

And the answer to that question is really up to you; whatever they thought to do together, it was well worth their time.

[loserholland]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐲

Pairing ➺ Spencer Reid x SSA!Reader

Warning ➺ None really, just flashbacks to episodes from season 7 

Word Count ➺  6,408

Summary ➺  When the Reader needs a date to her sister’s wedding, Spencer volunteers to be her date.

A/N ➺ Please enjoy! Maybe I’ll do a part two, who knows! But the bold text are the readers thoughts (:

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @taronxfiction @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine@spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou @babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland@zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker@jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003@kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles@peterunderoos @jessybellsworld @spider-mendes @ohbabycal​ 

@nerdgirljen​ 

@iloveyou3000morgan @random-things-i-love

*The strike through your name just means I couldn’t tag you, please message me if anything*

☞  Masterlist  ☜

“Shots!” 

Garcia shouted as she placed a the tray onto the table of the booth, it had been one hell of a long week and they finally had a free night. And with a free night meant head to the local bar make it one hell of a night.

Everyone reached for a shot glass whereas Reid raised his glass of Arnold Palmer.

The bar was slightly packed, mostly by FBI agents, the sound of music plus the amount of chatter in the club brought a smile to everyone’s faces. It’s been a while since they had gone to the bar as a team.

The booth was filled with laughter, the team had been talking about anything and everything, passing around jokes about one another.

Originally it was supposed to be a girls night, but the boys had begged that they allow we allow them to join. Well Rossi and Morgan were the ones who pleaded and insisted on dragging Reid and Hotch along.

(Y/N) felt her phone vibrate causing her to bring it out of her pocket wondering who was texting her at this time.

𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘰’𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦?

She groaned loudly reaching for another shot placing her phone face down on the table. Morgan raised his brows lightly noticing her sudden mood change.

“What’s up with you (Y/L/N)?”

(Y/N) leaned back into the booth drawing out a long sigh before answering “Nothing, my sister was just asking who’s my date to her wedding which is next week.” 

Rossi chuckled lightly before asking, “Who’s the lucky fellow?”

Yeah that’s the thing

There was no lucky fellow.

“Funny story..”

The team had just gotten back from Atlantic city. It was one of those cases where Hotch had given the team a long weekend off.

(Y/N) sighed lightly opening the door to her apartment kicking her boots off as she entered and locking the door behind her. Shrugging her coat off and placing it on the coat rack, she walked over to the kitchen placing the stacks of mail she had gotten before coming upstairs. 

After one hell of a week, she opened a new bottle of red wine and poured it into a glass before heading into her room for a nice hot bath.Once she was done relaxing she headed back into the kitchen, sorting through her mail till she stumbled upon a wedding invitation.

𝗝𝗼𝗶𝗻 𝘂𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝗥𝘆𝗮𝗻 𝗔𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗦𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘁 (𝗬/𝗟/𝗡)

“𝘋𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘴”

“𝘙𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴”

“Are you bringing a date?” (Y/N) mumbled to herself as she read the options to check off, of course only Scarlet would want to include that.

Not, number attending but are you bringing a date. Letting out a deep sigh her eyes gaze over to the pictures scattered over the fridge. (Y/N) was the second oldest of four siblings. She was the one out of four siblings to not be:

One- Married

Two-Soon to be married

and Three

Recently engaged.

Without thinking, she grabbed a pen and checked off to where we are now.

Morgan bursted into a fit of laugher before saying in between breathes “So, what I’m hearing is you don’t have a date?”

She glared at Morgan sticking her tongue out at him like a five year old child. It was already bad enough that every time she goes home to visit her family will ask: “Found anyone special?”

“Yeah, I don’t.”

It was a simple mistake, and well that simple mistake left her with no date. The last thing she wanted was to text her sister, “I actually have no date lmao.” because if that were to happen bridezilla would make quite the show. And she’d also never hear the end of that. Now, she has a week to find a date. That can’t be that hard right? Just who?

Morgan could barley catch his breath, (Y/N) kicked his ankle in annoyance “It’s not funny Derek! All I hear from my aunts are, oh you’ll find someone sweetie or you’re getting order you’ll find someone soon enough!” she leaned her head against the wall continuing to glare at Morgan.

“I could be your date.” Spencer spoke up trying to ease the tension that filled the booth.

Emily used her foot to nudge (Y/N) leg, she glared at the woman sitting across from her who wore an amused smile. (Y/N) glanced over at Penelope and JJ who also had the same expression on their face.

His brows furrowed, he didn’t see anything wrong with what he offered so- why was everyone staring?

“What? I-It was a suggestion.. that’s all.” His nose crinkled as he spoke pressing his lips into a thin line focusing his attention to the table in front of him.

Spencer may have an IQ of 187, and (Y/N) may be the youngest and second smartest of the team. These two are blind. Literally blind. It was quite obvious that boy wonder and miss.young and beautiful (well said from the one and only Penelope Garcia) have feelings for one another. 

If there was someone who can talk Spencer down, to get him to bring his walls down, it was (Y/N). Just a few months ago when everyone found out that Emily was in fact alive and not dead, everyone was happy that she was alive but that also came with being questioned by the Senate Committee for our retaliatory action.

But before Emily had came back everyone was dealing with her death differently.

There are five stages of grief:

Denial

Anger

Bargaining

Depression

Acceptance

With those five stages, everyone deals with their emotions differently. (Y/N) and Garcia did as much as they could to honor Emily’s name. Whereas Morgan felt guilty, telling himself he if he were there a second early he could’ve saved her. Spencer took it the hardest, he had gone to JJ’s house crying for almost 10 weeks.

Now with Emily back, the team felt back to normal. Well, some what back to normal. We had been called to Oklahoma, and it wouldn’t be a lie to say Spencer was not Spencer adding into the conversation or throwing in "Did you know.. facts”

He was quiet, distant.

“It’s too late alright!”

“Reid?” Emily spoke only watching as walked away.

(Y/N) looked at Hotch before saying “I’ll go talk to him.” giving her a nod of approval she grabbed one of the car keys and headed out towards Spencer.

Running out she watched as he continued to walk away, “Spencer!” she shouted yet no response.

“Spencer Walter Reid!”

Nothing

“Reid!”

The nearly 6’1 genius continued to walk away ignoring your calls. 

“Hey loverboy! I am talking to you! You know I don’t like being ignored!”

Spencer stopped in his tracks throwing his head back lightly “I don’t want to talk.” he spoke without turning around.

The heels of her boots clicked against the sidewalk once she was next to him she linked her arm with his pulling him towards one of the SUVS.

“Who said I wanted to talk? What if I wanted to get some coffee.”

Luckily there was a coffee shop that was a few blocks down the road, the car ride was silent- comfortable silence. (Y/N) never pushed Spencer to talk, she waited patiently for him to bring it up on his own.

In which, he did.

“I cried.. for ten weeks (Y/N).. ten weeks back to back.”

His voice barley above a whisper.

(Y/N) brought her right hand forward taking ahold of his left giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Spencer, Hotch and JJ kept Emily safe. The less people knew that Emily was alive, the better because Doyle was still out there. If he found out Emily was still alive, he would’ve gone after not only Emily but the rest of the team as well. Trust me, it’s odd to have Emily back I mean we ‘buried’ her for christ sakes. But she’s here, with us again. Not six feet. under. I can’t speak for JJ but, I know she never meant to intentionally hurt your feelings or make you feel vulnerable. We were bound to find out sooner or later Spence.”

Truth be told, (Y/N) hated seeing Spencer sad and angry. Something she never saw all that often but knew him being sad made her feel sad.

They had spent an hour an a half in the coffee shop, now they were walking back into the station. Slowly Spencer had opened up more, she let him go uninterrupted allowing him to speak as she listened.

“Thank you by the way.”

(Y/N) smiled nudging him with her elbow, “Anytime loverboy.”

-

"Look at pretty boy go!” Morgan chuckled raising his enclosed fist towards Spencer who awkwardly fist bumped him back. She watched as he pursed his lip his gaze fixed on his drink avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team and especially (Y/N).

Hotch sighed lightly glancing at his phone before giving Rossi a nod, “I better get going, I don’t want Jessica to stay too late. Have a nice weekend guys, I don’t want to see any of you at the office.” 

It was just fifteen minutes past eleven and everyone was ready to head home and call it a night. Stepping out of the nearly now packed bar greeted by the cool air of Washington D.C. They had bid their goodbyes and headed to their cars. 

All she could think about was what Spencer had said, “I could be your date.” I mean, there is no problem with him being her date right? Beside the fact that you have a huge fat third grade crush on boy genius. 

Once she got home she kicked off her boots padding over to the kitchen for a glass of water placing her belongings on her couch. A loud ding echoed throughout her apartment, it may be her sister again wondering who her date is.

Grabbing her phone out of her purse the notification flashed across the screen:

A message from Scarlet. Swiping her thumb across the screen unlocking her phone to read the message.

𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰? 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦?

𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦?

𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸.

𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘭?

𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰?

𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦.

𝘗𝘴, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦!

“Love you too whore.” (Y/N) mumbled placing her phone onto the coffee table walking away to her room to get changed. Another loud ding caught her attention, “I thought she was going to sleep?” (Y/N) thought to herself.

Instead it was a message from Emily.

𝘚𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘴! 𝘛𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦!!

Plopping herself onto her couch running her fingers through her hair.

He’s awake right? I mean it’s only twelve-fifteen? She held her phone in her hand tapping it lightly against her thigh contemplating whether or not to call him. 

“Just call him.” she mumbled to herself

Her family didn’t have any problems with Spencer. The one thing she’ll never forget is when he had told you father "The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss." The look on your fathers face was priceless.

Besides that her family had no problems with Spencer. They just describe him as being bit awkward and rambles on about well anything. It’s almost been four years since she joined the BAU. She was lucky enough to join at the age of twenty-three. And she’s been with them ever since.

When (Y/N) first joined the team Jason Gideon had just recently retired and David Rossi had returned voluntarily. You know that new kid feeling? New school, fresh faces, no friends? Yeah, that was the was her current feeling.

(Y/N) had barley gotten any sleep the night before. She felt anxious, tossing and turning the almost the entire night only to get about three hours of sleep. She had gotten up thirty minutes before her alarm, and had gotten there thirty minutes early.

Now she was currently sitting in SSA Aaron Hotchner’s office. You’ve heard many amazing things about his team, they are truly one of the best. Brushing her hands against her skirt for what felt like the hundredth time.

Pull yourself together, there’s nothing to be worried about.

“Agent (Y/L/N), would you like to meet the team?” Hotch spoke, (Y/N) turned her attention to the door giving him a nod of approval. Standing from her seat she followed him into the conference room.

“You’ll be fine.”

(Y/N) chuckled lightly, “Sorry, I’m just extremely nervous.” he smiled lightly opening the door to the conference room, the only person she knew was David Rossi, the BAU wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Gideon and Rossi.

“SSA (Y/L/N), this is SSA-”

“David Rossi, I’ve read your books and they are magnificent.” Rossi chuckled lightly sticking his hand out for her to shake in which (Y/N) gladly shook. She had just met one of the greatest profilers of all time.

(Y/N) looked up at Hotch before quickly apologizing “This is SSA Prentiss.” The beautiful raven haired woman smiled “Emily, nice to meet you.” moving to the man standing next to her “SSA Morgan.” he smiled shaking her hand “Derek.”

“(Y/N).” she replied.

“Our Communications Liaison Jennifer Jareau.”

“You can call me JJ.”

“Our tech analysis Penelope Garcia.”

Finally, the last person whom she had grown closes too.

“And Doctor Spencer Reid.”

That was your team. And they were more welcoming than you thought they would be, they were your second family. If you guys weren’t on a case, you’d be at the bar raking up Rossi’s tab. You were able to talk to them about almost anything, if you needed time off Hotch understood.

The first year she had worked with the team, they were very welcoming. Hotch had partnered you with Spencer most of the time, either you two would check out the M.E or stay back at the police department. It was safe to say it was a bit awkward at first when you were partnered with Spencer. But, she wouldn’t have wanted to be partnered with anyone else.

“Hello?”

Shit! He’s awake. Wait, when did I call him up?

“(Y/N)?”

Say something, he knows you’re on the other end of the line.

“Are you okay?’

Are you having a stroke right now? Say something!

“H-hi, sorry to bother you so late.”

It was fifteen minutes to one, did it really take me almost thirty minutes to call him?

“It’s fine, just getting a little bit of reading in. Did you need something?”

She bit the bottom of her lip getting up from her seat on her couch, just say it! Tell him you’d love to have him as a date.

“If your offer still stands.. I’d love to have you be my date.” she paced around her living room. Please say yes, this would be totally awkward if you said no but- you did offer to be my date?

Spencer smiled widely “Yes! I-I mean of course, I mean- I’d love to accompany you.” though (Y/N) couldn’t see him she knew he had his hand covered over his eyes mentally curing at himself.

“Great! I’ll text you the details tomorrow? Thank you again Spencer, I appreciate it.” 

“Y-yeah cool cool, um good night, sleep tight.. don’t let the bed bugs bite.” 

He could be such a dork sometimes. A cute dork. Rambling on until someone says something or he’d catch himself and apologize. Usually the team would exchange looks but, you’d sit there listening intently. It’s amazing that someone so young has already three PhD’s and as the genius said himself “I just keep getting PhD’s”

“Good night loverboy.”

Spencer had his nicknames, from Pretty boy, boy wonder, kid, doc etc.

Loverboy however, kinda just slipped. They had been working a case and Spencer was deep in his thoughts, she had been trying to get his attention for the last five minutes. When she had said it, he cheeks were painted a deep shade of red. Ever since then, the nickname just stuck.

(Y/N) tossed her phone onto the couch squealing loudly, surely enough she knew one of her neighbors would file a complaint against her but she didn’t care. All she cared about was the fact that Spencer Reid was her wedding date, and she couldn’t be more excited.

-

The entertainment capital of the world

Sin city

Fabulous Las Vegas.

Home to Spencer and (Y/N), the two were going to be staying with her parents since they live the closes to the venue. The drive to her parents house meant passing by her high school, and without a doubt she knew Spencer would have something to say.

“Isn’t that your old high school?” 

She glanced at Spencer for a short moment before answering, “Yup, class of 2003.”

About a month ago the team had gone to Boise,Idaho where a serial killer is murdering the survivors of a high school massacre that took place exactly ten years earlier. Hotch had sent (Y/N) and Spencer to examine the crime scene. 

“The unsub has to be tied to the school somehow. Maybe a current student, alumni, or a family member who lost someone?” (Y/N) mumbled as she scanned the crime scene 

“It could be a Slade groupie celebrating his hero. He taped nails to the exterior of the bomb. Specifically to rip open flesh-” Spencer spoke turning his head slightly to see (Y/N) examining the various pieces of nails.

“That’s a Slade detail of Slade’s the unsub copied.”

“Except he tricked Givens into blowing himself up.A groupie probably wouldn’t show that much self-control.” (Y/N) pointed out her eyes looked from the ground to the ceiling.

“But someone with an ax to grind against the principal would. Maybe he’s a surrogate for the tormenters in high school he can’t punish...” he examined the photos he held in his hands, “who were yours?”

(Y/N) chuckled reaching forward to touch the piece of nail in the wall, “I don’t even remember.” she mumbled.

Spencer raised his brow in confusion, “You don’t even remember?” his voice filled with disbelief. He stepped forward still stuck on the subject, “Wait, were you one of the mean girls?”

She turned around in surprise her eyes widened at his question, “What? No!” Okay maybe there were some people she was a bit rude to. That only being her  younger brother who was a freshmen when she was a senior.

“Track star with a full ride scholarship to UNR and was accepted by many universities, one of the valedictorians of her class, and the student body president? That not only screams popular but you could’ve been one of the mean girls!”

(Y/N) gasped loudly walking past Spencer to get to the other side of the room, “Could’ve been, I was actually one of the nice popular girls! I was even friends with guys like you!” 

“Guys like me? I'll have you know that my social standing increased once I started winning at basketball.“ now that was hard to believe.

“Spencer Reid playing basketball no way.” (Y/N) snickered causing Spencer to press his lips into a thin line, “Okay, I coached basketball. I broke down the opposing team's shooting strategy.” Now that sound more like Spencer.

“Is that why Morgan kicked you out of the pool last week?“ Rossi held a BBQ last Sunday, inviting the entire team over and Spencer and Derek were going at it in the pool bickering with one another.

“Yeah. Took him three rounds to realize I was hustling him.”

(Y/N) pulled into the driveway shifting the gear into park, she turned slightly to face Spencer. “Spence.” she whispered, he turned his head in confusion. Spencer had met her family, but he was about to meet MORE of them. As much as she loved them to death, they could be a little too much.

“First off, I wanna say thank you so much for being my date. Second, my family.. they are loud and can get very.. touchy? If you feel uncomfortable in any given moment please tell me because I don’t want you to think you made a mistake by coming.” He gave her a warm smile, placing his hand over her’s.

“(Y/N/N)!” a voice shouted causing (Y/N) to jump slightly pulling her attention away from Spencer. Her mother smiled happily, she was beyond excited to hear that (Y/N) was bringing Spencer as her date. The two exited the car retrieving their luggage from the trunk. 

“Hey mom!” (Y/N) shouted as she closed the trunk watching as Spencer waved hello to her mother.

“Hi Mrs.(Y/L/N).” 

“Oh Spencer! How have you been? Come in get settled Steven and I are treating you two to dinner tonight!” She watched as her mother followed Spencer into the house, it would be an understatement if I said my mom loved Spencer.

I mean who wouldn’t?

Later that night when they had gone out to dinner they just so happened to run into one of her family members that every so gladly invited themselves to dinner. 

And the immediate question was, “So (Y/N), who’s this?” that lead to a somewhat awkward dinner. You know how everyone has that one favorite cousin? Then there was that one cousin that was a tattle-tale and much of a show off? That was the cousin that was at dinner tonight. 

“This is Doctor. Spencer Reid, he’s my partner. I-I mean the partner on my team, a-

“So what I’m hearing is you’re single?” Gwen questioned causing (Y/N) to gasp lightly watching as Spencer shifted in his seat “Um- well yeah but-” his voice had gone up a couple octaves. Drawing his hand away from the table watching as Gwen’s cheeks tinted a deep red.

“Gwen quit it, you’re making him uncomfortable!” (Y/N) snapped annoyed with her cousin’s behavior. This was the last thing she wanted Spencer to feel, uncomfortable. She didn’t want Spencer to think he made a mistake, before she could say anymore he glanced at her for a second before whispering “It’s okay.” If only she could strangle Gwen right here, right now. The table was filled with awkward silence, (Y/N) mother chuckled lightly before quickly changing the subject “So, who’s ready for tomorrow?”

-

The only thing (Y/N) always looked forward to was the reception. Her least favorite part was the ceremony where most of her family members would be asking her one too many questions. She had spent half of her morning mentally preparing herself for what’s to come today. What she was not prepared for was the suit Spencer had worn, well the velvet suit jacket to be exact. It had matched perfectly with the red dress she had worn.

Spencer sat with (Y/N) siblings watching as she chased around her niece and nephews, “I’m gonna get you!” she shouted causing her niece to squeal loudly running father away from her aunt. (Y/N) had always gotten along with kids, they’d easily adjust to her. When they had cases dealing with kids, it would either be Spencer, JJ, or (Y/N) to be the ones to talk to them.

“Remind me, the next time Garcia tries to get me to go to a shoe sale I need to say no.” (Y/N) spoke in between breaths settling next to Spencer, Wonderful tonight began to play bringing almost everyone to the dance floor. She took ahold of his hand dragging him up from his seat, “Spence we need to join them!” 

The sound of his heart beat was music to her ears, beating softly. The feeling of being so close to him, left butterflies in her stomach. It felt so, domestic? It’s not an everyday thing to dance with Spencer Reid.

“Do you see yourself having kids some day?”

(Y/N) pulled her head away from his chest looking up at him with a raised brow. That was a bit out of the blue.

“Just the way you interact with your niece and nephews, you’re good with kids. i’ve noticed that when we work on cases dealing with kids. you’re patient with them.” Spencer glanced down at her, she looks so beautiful.

(Y/N) sighed lightly before answering, “Yeah, ideally... I want to have kids by the time I’m thirty and well, I have three more years to make that happen.”

Spencer hummed at her response allowing (Y/N) to continue.

“My parents... they had told my siblings and I that I would be the first to have kids, and well-“

Her eyes gaze over to her older sister whom was the first to have kids, her beautiful niece and nephew. Seated at the same table her brother whom was recently engaged and his fiancée awaiting their first child.

And now her younger sister wouldn’t be too far behind.

“I’m not a profiler, but aren’t those two completely oblivious about their feelings for one another?” Isabelle commented watching as her sister dance with her date.

“That’s what I was thinking the entire time! The FBI should hire us, we’re good!” Cole exaggerated lifting his hand for Isabelle to high-five.

(Y/N) turned her attention away from her siblings back to look at Spencer. If only she could hear her siblings conversation.

“I’m gonna be the last to get married.” she said with a light chuckle.

There was no one to blame, i mean at this point she was married to her job and she knew the pros and cons. But there’s still time for her, time to find someone, to have kids.

“What about you doc? Do you want little geniuses?”

Spencer sighed lightly moving his right hand that was resting on her waist taking ahold of her left, spinning her around.

He held her hand for a moment swaying the two from side to side, “Of course, as much as I love being a godfather.. I wanna have kids of my own. An entire soccer team as one may say.”

That was something the two had in common, being a godparent. (Y/N) loved spoiling her goddaughter, even before she was asked to be the godmother.

(Y/N) giggled at his response, any woman would be lucky enough to have a child with Spencer. He’d make a wonderful father, he’d be ever so patient with his little boy or girl.

“Well your future wife is in for it.”

He felt a slight tug on his suit jacket, he looked down to see (Y/N) niece Lyrical, “I wanna dance.” the four year old said moreover demanded.

(Y/N) gasped lightly before letting go of Spencer’s right hand and moved to wrap her arms around him.

“No he’s mine.” she joked sticking her tug out at the four year old.

If he was standing in front of a mirror right now, he’d be as red as a tomato.

“No! My boyfriend!” Lyrical huffed wrapping her chubby arms around her chest with a pout. That was something Lyrical basically established during prior visits.

Whenever they’d have cases in Vegas the night before they leave the team goes to hangout with (Y/N) family. Her second family meeting her well family

(Y/N) drew back her arms from him as she looked between Spencer and her niece, “So- who’s it gonna be loverboy?”

Spencer hummed at her question before picking up Lyrical causing her to giggle lightly wrapping her arms around his neck swaying from side to side.

She held onto him, her fingers slightly tugged at the back of his hair. (Y/N) smiled, the warm fuzzy feeling she felt earlier was back again.

If Spencer’s first born child is a girl, she’d have him wrapped around her fingers before she was born.

She walked up to her niece peppering kisses onto her chubby cheeks earning a burst of laughter, the song changed into a more upbeat rhythm causing almost everyone to come to the dance floor.

“So, who was going to tell me they were dating?” Scarlet questioned, walking over to sit at the same table her siblings were seated. Isabelle snorted reaching for the glass of water in front of her.

“Why would we? They aren’t dating.. yet.” Cole answered sarcastically earning a slap to the back of his head. He glared at his younger sister, “I answered your question why did you have to hit me!” Scarlet shrugged lightly taking a sip from her champagne glass.

(Y/N) looked over to her siblings, who were bickering as usual.

“I’m gonna go sit for a bit.” Spencer nodded watching as she walked back to sit with her siblings before turning his attention back to the four year old.

“Woah Lyrical stole your date.” Cole snickered causing (Y/N) to roll her eyes playfully, “I know, better watch out she’s gonna have boys waiting on her beck and call.” The table rose with laughter, as they moved onto a different topic.

It felt like old times, sitting around with her siblings as they talked about childhood memories and embarrassing moments. She needed to come home more often instead of having them fly out to only spend a day or two.

Her eyes gazed over to Spencer and her niece who were stilling dancing, that warm fuzzy feeling. It’s unexplainable. She couldn’t help but imagine, what if. What if her and Spencer do end up together? Oh would their daughter be his princess. He would do anything for her. Whoever get’s to be the future Mrs.Reid would be the luckiest women in the world, his kids would be blessed with such a wonderful dad.

Scarlet looked over to her older sister who was too deep in thought as she watched her date dance with their niece. She couldn’t help but notice the smile that tugged at (Y/N) lips.

“So does that mean you’re next?”

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her train of thought coming to a screeching halt. Next?

“For?” (Y/N) questioned back, unsure of what Scarlet was trying to lead on.

“You and that handsome Doctor Reid.”

(Y/N) eyes widened causing her to shake her head from left to right, “What? No no, we’re just friends.” she tried to suppress the smile that dared to paint over her lips.

Her siblings look between each other before bursting into a fit of laughter, “Sure keep telling yourself that.” Cole spoke in between his laughter.

Y/N rolled her eyes crossing her arms over her chest before responding “Hey! We’re just friends.” 

Cole leaned back into his chair raising a brow at her, “So, you’re telling us you don’t have any feelings for him? Zero, nada, zilch?” she glared at Cole kicking his ankle lightly. He winced at the sudden action reaching down to sooth his ankle.

“I don’t have feelings for him.”

Isabelle rose her brow at her younger sister, “You’re doing that thing.” If there was one thing she was bad at it would be lying. You’d think for a profiler she’d be better at lying and would be able to keep a poker face.

“What thing?”

Scarlet sighed loudly, “(Y/N) you may be a profiler but, we’re your siblings we know when you’re lying.” That only caused (Y/N) to scoff loudly and shake her head at her siblings.

Why are they attacking me right now?

“You cross your arms over your chest and you smile, A LOT it’s kinda no it IS creepy. Plus you get defensive, like very defensive.” Cole pointed out only for the rest of her siblings to agree.

Let’s forget what I said early about visiting more often. They can continue flying out to D.C.

(Y/N) got up from her seat slipping her heels back on causing Cole to flinch slightly, growing up the only boy meant dealing (Y/N) scared him. A lot.

 “I wasn’t going to hit you ass clown!”

Maybe, just maybe she was spending a bit too much time with Rossi.

 “I’m gonna go for a little walk.” 

The three siblings looked between each other. If there was something she knew all too well of doing it was avoiding her feelings. Not opening up to others, building walls high enough so no one can look over and see what she’s feelings or thinking. 

“Don’t close yourself off! Say what needs to be said!”

It felt like deja vu. 

Emily had told her the exact same thing a few days ago.

"Oh my sweet angel face (Y/N)! You and boy wonder are blind!” Penelope slurred as she attempted to place her glasses on (Y/N) face. JJ couldn’t help but laugh at Garcia’s actions.

“My vision is 20/20 as a matter of fact!” (Y/N) answered earning another laugh from Emily, “Pen is right you know? Don’t close yourself off! Say what needs to be-”

“Hey, you missed the bouquet toss.”

(Y/N) blinked a few times before looking up to see Spencer.

“Did you know the tossing the bouquet is a tradition that stems from England. Women used to try to rip pieces of the bride's dress and flowers in order to obtain some of her good luck. Today the bouquet is tossed to single women with the belief that whoever catches it will be the next to marry.”

This was one of the many things she loved about Spencer. The amount of knowledge he holds in that huge brain of his. Usually the team isn’t much of a fan when he rambles on but, you loved it. The way he uses his hands to explain what he was thinking, or how he basically has an answer for well everything.

“Who caught the bouquet?”

He chuckled lightly taking a seat next to her, “Well Scarlet kinda threw it at me and said you know what to do. But your mom made her redo it, got a laugh out of everyone though.”

“Pretty sure you’re suppose to catch the garter.” (Y/N) giggled turning her head slightly to look up at Spencer who was laughing along with her. There was a sudden cool breeze causing her to wrap her arms around her chest.

“I knew I should’ve brought my jacket.”

Spencer shrugged off his dress jacket draping it over her shoulders. It was ever so slightly bigger on her she slipped her arms through the sleeves

“Thank you... and another thank you for being my date. I really hat- dislike attending weddings.”

“Did you know the first recorded evidence of marriage ceremonies uniting one woman and one man dates from about 2350 B-“

Her eyes fell towards the ground in front of her. Fixated on the shoes he was currently using.

The converse she had bought him for his 30th birthday, well belated 30th birthday. Not only was he using the converse she bought him but the mismatching socks as well. The team had been called to San Francisco to investigate a possible Zodiac Killer copycat. There was something up with Spencer however, he was quieter than usual. 

But it was only because he had doubts on why he’s in the FBI, questioning that he should be doing something more in his life with the amount of knowledge he had accumulated over the years. The team didn’t even realize they had missed his 30th birthday, and (Y/N) felt so bad for it. She was the one to always bring in the birthday boy or gal their favorite donuts and a cup of coffee. 

When the team had gotten back to Quantico she had stopped by to get him a new pair of converse and of course mis-matched socks.

“How did I not notice you’re using the shoes and socks I gifted you?”

His brows furrowed,“Is something wrong (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) sighed ignoring his question “I read that a crush only last four months. But if it last longer you are considered to be in love. is that true?”

“Actually, many people often mistake crushes and infatuation with love. The initial feelings of crush and falling in love are very similar. The rush of euphoria happens in both cases. The butterflies, and the feelings of pure joy at the sight of them happens in both cases. It’s easy to see how the two are mistaken for love because the feelings are so intense, but there is a difference. Crushes and infatuation go hand in hand, and are very similar-

He paused for a second catching his breath before continuing, “-a crush is defined as a brief but intense infatuation for someone, especially someone inappropriate or unattainable. Infatuation is defined as an intense but short lived passion or admiration for someone or something.

Involuntarily she rest her head against his shoulder, “What about love?” she questioned. You glanced up for a second watching as his tongue swiped across his bottom lip.

“Love is truly seeing and accepting their object of affection. It’s an intense feeling of deep affection. to be patient and understanding, love is forgiving. It desires a deep connection. When we truly love someone, we see their flaws, and we accept them. there are thoughts of a future together, and realistic expectations of ea-“

JJ sighed, “Just tell him say I love you. Not as a friend. But I love you, on a deeper connection. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I’m in love with you.” her eyes fluttered shut, her heart was pounding in her ears, she felt Spencer tense at what she had just said. Oh god did I make a mistake?

She pulled her head away from his shoulder, tell him why just tell him.

“You’re the most sweetest, yet awkward guy I know. Not only are you sweet, you’re also so smart. I love to hear you ramble on about, honestly anything. You’re so caring, and kind. It hurts me when you beat yourself up, I just want to hug you and tell you why you’re wrong and tell you that I love-” 

Spencer placed his hands on her cheeks pulling her into a slow passionate kiss, everything happened so quickly it took her a moment to process what was happening. Wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss, the feeling was so surreal.

He pulled away slowly his hands still on her cheeks as he rest his forehead against hers, “I love you too.” he spoke as he stared into her (Y/E/C). (Y/N) smiled from ear to ear, stealing another kiss from Spencer.

“Finally!” a voice spoke startling the two. (Y/N) peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see Cole standing there with well the rest of her siblings, oh yeah she was never going to hear the end of this. 

[chidori-mint]

Undercover Mission [Obito Uchiha x Reader]

Pairing: Obito Uchiha x Reader

Warnings: Just angst and FLUFF, swear words

WC: 3.6k

A/N: This is my contribution for the first server collab of Konoha Simps. The theme used was Fireworks. They said that fireworks symbolizes the release of suppressed feelings. A huge thanks to my amazing wifey, @bakubabes-hatake​ for always, always motivating me to write.😘 This song inspired me to write this piece. Find all the wonderful works here! Apology in advance, English isn't my first language but I do hope you enjoy this one! ❤ 

🍭🍡🍭🍡

You can't help but stare at his smile. This man, the one and only man, who can give you this weird feeling, a blissful feeling whenever you're together. This inexplicable joy when he's around. The feeling of love and contentment.

You feel your heart racing as he leans closer to you.

"Obito... I --"

"Y/n?"

That shivering feeling when he uttered your name.

"Y/N?!" You woke up from the loud knock from your door. You knew that voice. Another knock and it made you jump from your bed.

"Y/nnnnnn?! It's me!" Someone hollered outside your door.

With sleepy eyes, you dragged yourself out of the bed to answer the door. The man's eyes grew wide seeing you in your sleep wear -- a white tank top that hugs your perfect curves matched with black tight shorts.

Rubbing your eyes, you asked him "Obito? What are you doing here?"

"Y-you wear that to sleep?!" he stammered as his eyes were still glued at you as you noticed him shaking and sweaty.

"Uhh. Yeah?" you wondered and yawned.

He turned to look away, but his blushing cheeks are still evident.

"Uh, I-I see. Uhm. B-bakashi asked us to meet him in the Hokage's office." stuttering as he kept his eyes away from you.

"Oh, did he say why?" The three of you have been best friends since you can remember. So this is new to you, knowing Kakashi, he hates early morning meetings.

"He just said that it's important. So we gotta head there now, Y/n." He gave a half-smile as he threw his arms to the back of his head.

"You wanna come in while you wait for me?"

He blushed again at your question, "Uhm, you sure it's okay?"

You nodded as you let him in your apartment. "I'm gonna make us coffee, please make yourself comfortable."

  🍭🍡🍭🍡

You entered the Hokage's office and both of you were surprised to see that Kakashi was already waiting at this early hour.

"Sorry for the short notice, but I have a mission for the two of you," he said as he tucked his hands in his pockets.

"Mission? You, idiot! Did they officially make you the sixth Hokage for you to give out missions?!" Obito complained.

"Obito, I am already the sixth Hokage. The Recognition day is just for formality." Kakashi boasted, he really knows how to annoy his best friend. "And anyway this mission is urgent." He declared.

"What kind of mission?" you ask.

Kakashi crossed his arms as he leaned on the desk, "An ancient Scroll of Seals was stolen from the Kazekage. Gaara specifically asked for a skilled shinobi from our village, and he believes that it was an inside job. They already have a suspect actually." He explained.

"You have to go undercover. You can't let anyone recognize you as shinobis." He handed out a brown envelope and Obito took it. "The details about the suspect are all there. Oh, and by the way, you have to go to the Sand Village and act as civilians, more specifically, as husband and wife."

"AS WHAT?!" you both yelled in unison.

"Kakashi, is there a specific reason why we need to go undercover as husband and wife?!" you blurted.

"Y/n's right!" Obito objected, but as you turned to look at him, you noticed him blushing again. "I mean -- we can go as normal civilians, r-right?"

"The Kazekage and three of us are the only ones who are aware of this mission. You can’t speak about this to anyone. He can't seem to trust his subordinates. We still don't know if the suspect works alone or if he has allies within their village. If you go there as a married couple, it'll be less suspicious."

"You idiot --"

"It's okay, Obito. Kakashi's right." You cut him. "I just hope we can make it back before your recognition day."

"Y/n, are you sure you're okay with this?" Obito implored.

"Obito, we've done thousands of deadly missions before." You smiled at him. Yes, you did missions with Obito and Kakashi. This is just a retrieval mission. This is nothing compared to the missions given by the previous Hokages. But this one is different. 

"You can go start packing now if you wanna be back before the recognition day. I want my best friends to be with me on that special day. After all, I'm the Hokage. Right, Obito?" He bragged.

"Whatever you say, you idiot." Obito retorted, "Let's get going, y/n."

"Hey uhm, you go, I still have questions regarding the mission. I'll meet you at the gates?" you asked.

"Oh, okay. I'll meet you there." Obito slowly walked out of the room. You turned to Kakashi as the door shut.

"Kakashi. What was that?" You sounded worried and anxious.

"Hmm? What do you mean?" He walked around the large wooden desk. He turned his swiveling chair and sat lazily on it.

"You know, you can count on me on S rank missions, right? But this? This is just a simple retrieval mission! Why don't you send someone else? Why does it have to be Obito and me? And are you serious with that married couple bullshit?"

Kakashi sighed as you bugged him with your questions.

"You just told Obito you were okay with it, didn't you?"

"I only agreed because I don't want him to think I'm not comfortable doing this with him!" You snapped.

"It's just a cover, y/n. What could possibly go wrong? As you said, this is just a simple mission."

"This is far different from the missions I’ve handled before. You know what could happen if I go on this mission with him! I can't keep pretending, Kakashi. These feelings I have just get stronger every goddamn day." You sighed.

"Then why don't you just tell him the truth?" He asked.

"You think that's easy?" He doesn't understand.

 You give up. You can never win against Kakashi. "Nevermind. See you when I get back."

You headed to the door and left him.

As you walk home, you try to convince yourself that everything will be just fine. As you reach your apartment, you gather all your essentials.

"Two days tops. Finish the job in two days. Then that's it!" you thought.

  🍭🍡🍭🍡

Your journey to the Sand Village was rather quiet. You are not used to this. Obito is usually cheerful, loud, and always giving random compliments about you. But today, he didn't even utter a single word to you. As you reach the Sand Village at past midnight, you both try to look for a place to settle in for the night. You entered an old looking inn and let Obito do the inquiry. Your legs feel numb, your shoulders stiff, you’ve been leaping from tree to tree the whole day. And as you reach the outskirts of the Sand Village, you change from your ninja uniforms to civilian outfits and Obito did the same. He has been awkwardly quiet the whole time.

“We only have one vacant room left, are you going to take it?” asked the young lady from the front desk.

“As long as it has two beds, we’ll take it,” you said, your exhaustion painted in your face.

“I’m sorry, maam but the room has only one bed.” The lady smiled at Obito and it made your eyes narrowed at the young lady.

Unexpectedly, you felt his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, “Doll, it’s okay, there’s no need for two beds.” he whispered in your ear. He's so close you can feel his warm breath on your cheeks. He gave out a chuckle.

You forgot you were still undercover, “Oh yes, so silly of me. Miss, we’ll take the room.”

“Okay, then. Please enjoy your stay!” She handed the room keys.

  🍭🍡🍭🍡

Obito unlocked the door and turned the knob. You followed him as he entered your shared room. You stared at the bed.

“It’s okay, y/n you can take the bed. I can sleep on the floor.” His voice was tight and serious. You study him as he drops his bag on the floor. You felt the cold rush of the wind blowing as he opened the windows. He has been giving you the silent treatment, you so decided to break the ice.

"Obito. Is there something wrong? You've been awfully quiet since we left the village. Are you okay?" You approached him.

"Wrong? No Y/n, nothing's wrong" He denied.

"I'm your best friend. You can't lie to me. I know something's bothering you." You insisted.

"Best friend, huh? Of course. I'm just your best friend. That's why you have the guts to lie to my face. I heard you and Kakashi." He ruled as he turned to face you.

His words shocked you, freezing your body in place. You swallow the building lump in your throat as you pressed your lips together. There's no more point in lying. He knew it. He knew everything.

"Obito, I've been meaning to tell you. Believe me. I have always loved --"

"Just save it, Y/n, please. Let's just get it over with this mission." He walked towards the door.

"I thought you --"

"Well, you thought wrong, princess." He slammed the door shut. Leaving you alone in the dark room.

Tears start to pool in your eyes, your chest feels heavy, it's like the air has been sucked out of the room. Warm tears had started to roll down your cheeks as you slowly sat down at the edge of the bed. You covered your face with your cold hands trying to muffle your cries. You laid yourself in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Blaming yourself for falling hard for your best friend. So this was the price you have to pay. Hopeless love in exchange of friendship. You covered and curled yourself under the sheets. This is just a bad dream. Just. A. Bad. Dream.

  🍭🍡🍭🍡

You stretched your numb arms only to feel that the bed was cold and empty. You slowly opened your heavy and swollen eyes, you searched for Obito, but there was no trace of him.

If it wasn't for the mission, you wouldn't have the reason to get up from the bed.

  🍭🍡🍭🍡

After taking a shower and putting on a nice sundress, you went down to look for Obito. The young lady from last night was back in the front desk.

"Hi! Good morning, uhm have you seen my… husband?" You asked her politely.

"Oh you mean, him?" She giggled.

"Hello, wife." As you face him, he holds your chin and kisses you. As soon as his lips parted from yours, it left you dumbstruck and speechless.

"Shall we?" He winked and held out his hand but you can't help but stare at him. "Y/n?"

"Oh… Yes. We should go." You took his hand as he bid goodbye to the young lady.

"You could at least do your part and act like my wife, y/n." He whispered as both of you exited the inn. "You're good at pretending anyway." He grunted.

You felt another pang of guilt.

"Obito, about last night…"

"Forget it. Not interested, anyway."

You felt embarrassed and hurt. You just want to finish this stupid mission, get back to the village and punch Kakashi right in the face.

  🍭🍡🍭🍡

"I think that's our guy." He signaled. After hours of surveillance, you finally confirmed the suspect.

You both were sitting on a bench, while your guy was eating his ramen not too far away from your position. You both settled on the bench waiting for the man to move. You try to focus on the mission but the flashing images of last night's incident kept replaying on your mind on loop.

"So… How long have you been hiding that from me?" his voice brought you back to your senses as he gazed at you.

"I… pretty much a long time." You confessed. "I wanted to tell you but," You clenched your jaw, trying to hold back the tears from falling "I can't risk our friendship. And, I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it."

There was another odd silence between the two of you.

"This mission is important; we can't let our personal issues get in the way." He sounded stern.

This sudden change from his behavior made it clear to you that he's really not into you. And it rips your heart apart. You sat right next to each other but he still feels like he’s so far away from you. You’ve been dying to grab him right now, to hold him close, to kiss him, and to make him yours.

You get his point, "Of course," you agreed.

The man stood up from his seat and paid the ramen guy.

"Come on, we have to follow him." You complied quietly as you let Obito lead the mission. He rose up and stretched out his arms, "Let's go, princess."

"Wait, does he really have the scroll?" 

You watched him as he activated his Sharingan. "He has the scroll. But wait a minute," he sounded intrigued. "His chakra. It's… weird. It's… familiar."

He tried to study the man. “I mean look at him, who would wear a coat and a hat on a hot day like this?" he muttered as he expressed his disbelief.

The man started walking casually along the busy street of the Sand Village. You both tailed on him while keeping a safe distance. You slowly grabbed Obito's arms, you noticed he became stiff and surprised as you clung on him. "Relax, Obito. Husband and wife, remember?" you quietly reminded him. The least you could do, is to focus and make sure you accomplish this mission. 

“So, Kakashi mentioned that this mission is exclusive for us, right? And that nobody knows about it. Just us and the Kazekage?” he sounded unsure as he kept his eyes fixed on your target.

“Well, that’s what he said,” you confirmed. “Why?”

“I know that this may sound weird but, I have a feeling that we know this guy.” he stated.

Hearing Obito’s theory made you anxious. You both halted when you saw the man turn and entered an inn. 

“Is he luring us in?” you asked. "Why do I have a feeling that he already knows he's being followed?" 

“There's only one way to find out."

🍭🍡🍭🍡

You both entered the building and started searching for the man. You have combed all the rooms in the first floor, but he was nowhere to be found.You both climbed up the stairs as quietly as possible. You reached the first room on the second floor, just when you're about to open the door, Obito clasped your arm and pulled you closer to him. When you looked up at him, he put an index finger to his lips, "Let me," he whispered. 

He grabbed the door handle and slid it open only to reveal a very familiar man.

“YAMATO?!” you both screamed his name. 

His face was as white as the snow, his eyes grew wide as you guys barged in his door. 

“What are you doing here?” Obito asked.

“Did Kakashi send you?” you interrogated him. You rushed towards Yamato as he nervously stepped back.

“Well, I’m on a separate mission actually.” he chuckled nervously as he scratched his head. 

“Separate mission? What mission? I thought Kakashi said that this mission was exclusive for us.” Obito was puzzled.

“Well, uh yes. But you see, Kakashi sent me here to make uh sure that uhm..” he was avoiding any eye contact and was already stuttering. 

“To make sure that what? Spill it now, Yamato before I slit your throat!” you said furiously as you took out one of your Kunai and pointed it at him.

“Kakashi’s gonna kill me...” he muttered under his breath, beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead and upper lip.

“What does Kakashi have to do with this?” asked Obito, who seemed like he still was not getting the point to all of this. Your eyebrows twitched in annoyance.

“I will kill you now even before he gets his chance! Start talking now, you tree man!” you demanded as you inclined your head and gave him a death glare. You are fuming right now, something in your guts are telling you that this was all Kakashi’s stupid idea! 

“Well, you see, Kakashi asked me to help him finish his last mission before he could officially accept the responsibilities for being the Sixth Hokage,” Yamato said, trying his best to stay as calm as possible.

“His last mission?” you repeated as you exchanged glances with Obito.

“He said that both of you were uh…  giving him endless headaches. That you guys should just…” he paused as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Just what?!” you both exclaimed.

“Just date already!” he declared. You froze. How could Kakashi tell Yamato about your secrets? 

“Tch,” Obito snorted. “How would I date her if she likes Kakashi?” He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked away, his words left you bewildered.

“Wait up, you said you heard us talking in the Hokage’s office?” 

“Well, weren’t you referring to Kakashi?” he questioned.

“You idiot! So that’s why you were avoiding me the whole day when we left the village? Because you assumed that I liked Kakashi? You dumb ass! I was trying to confess to you last night but you won’t let me finish!” you cried. 

Your words struck him, his cheeks were blushing crimson again. “Y-you mean --?” swallowing the forming lump in his throat, “the mission was… fake?” he asked, giving you a perplexed look.

“Oh God. You really are the dumbest of all the Uchihas, aren’t you?!” you sighed in exasperation as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Obito,” Yamato butted in, “Y/n just admitted her feelings for you and you’re asking if the mission was fake?” he facepalmed. “Y/n, please enlighten me -- what did he do to make you swoon over him?” he teased.

“Me? Swoon over him?!” a flush crept up your face. 

“For heaven’s sake. You both are dumb, you know? I can’t believe this is what Kakashi has to deal with everyday. You guys are so exhausting. Work this out, you two.” he retorted in annoyance. He collected his things and headed to the door.

Yamato shut the door behind him and Obito did not make any effort to come closer to you and you were frozen from where you’re standing. No one talked. You could cut through the tension with a knife.

“I’m sorry about last night, Y/n. For driving you away…” Obito finally said. “I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

“Okay… How else would you have?” you smiled dryly.

“Princess please, I need you to just listen to me, okay?” he bit down on his lip.

He grabbed both of your hands and brought them to his chest. You could feel his heart pounding below the skin, a very similar tempo to yours. “I like you, wait, no. I love you. The only thing that kept holding me back was that I really thought you liked Kakashi. I confronted him. But he said that you liked someone else, not him. That Bakashi, he should have told me the truth! Y/n, I can’t keep pretending anymore. I can’t pretend that I don’t want to hold you or that I’m not falling in love with you. I can’t and I won’t, not anymore.”

“What?!” Your jaw was on the floor. “You like… me? But last night --”

“Last night was a mistake.” He held both of your wrists in one hand and cupped your cheek with the other. Everything that he had said last night was starting to make sense a lot more sense now. It was heartbreaking, but now it made sense. 

“You were so infuriating, I was trying to tell you that I love you last night,” you said as you leaned into his palm.

“I am not infuriating!’ he denied.

“Okay but you’re dumb!” you jested.

“Okay, I’ll take that. But I know you love me.” his thumb traced your bottom lip, and he moved even closer to you.

Your heart skipped.

“So what are we doing then?” you asked, distracted by his touch on you. “Are we… together? Like, together together?”

“Well if you’ll have me, yes,” he said as his eyes flickered. “I want you, Y/n. Just as you are.” 

“I want you too,” your smile grew along with his.

“I meant what I said, princess. I love you.” his forehead pressed to yours, as you close your eyes in relief.

“I love you too, dumb ass.” you pressed your lips onto his and he took you gladly.

His arms slid around your waist, while the other went back to the back of your neck, to hold you in place as he kissed you like it was his last.

“I’m really sorry about last night, for being an asshole,” he told you through the kiss. It was mostly tongue and teeth, desperate and messy. “ Let me make it up to you, Y/n.”

He was intoxicating and all you could do was nod, your eyelashes fluttering as his lips travelled down your neck, sucking on your skin.

“MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!” Yamato appeared in the window making Obito’s posture straightened. He kept his hands on you, pulling you close to his chest like you were in danger.

“Maybe that’s why Bakashi and this tree boy get along so much,” he murmured.

“Huh, why?” you asked.

“They’re both cockblockers.” he whispered.

“Hey! I heard that!” Yamato narrowed his eyes. “So are we getting back to the village?”

“Uh, we’ll stay a little longer.” Obito replied, as he smirked at you. “I have to make it up to her. We might miss Bakashi’s recognition day though. I plan to ravish my princess and we have to make up for all the times we should have been together.”

[eddieonthemove]

Early months

Finding that pink line on the pregnancy test was a complete surprise for me. It was unplanned, unexpected and to be honest, couldn’t have been more badly timed. Looking back now, the pregnancy itself didn’t get any easier. When people say that pregnant women have this kind of bloom around them, for me it was more of a gloom. I was sick, tired, couldn’t sleep or eat properly, and on top of that serious problems in the relationship and a very stressful job. Not ideal!

When I was 23 weeks pregnant I started showing a tiny bit, although I still looked like I had a bit more for lunch than normal rather than being pregnant. For the coming weekend my partner Ben and I were planning to go to Snowdonia. That didn’t go as planned. Instead, I woke up on Thursday that week and was bleeding a bit. I googled the symptoms and then walked to work as usual, because Google said it can happen. My colleagues persuaded me to call my midwife and then called me a taxi to go to the hospital. I didn’t take my pregnancy notes, I literally thought I would be back at work in a few hours. Instead, after the examination, a doctor sat me down and told me “don’t panic but you’re in labour”. Well, you can imagine I started panicking. At only 23+5 days pregnant.

The following few hours I went from crying, being petrified, calling my parents, wanting to leave the hospital because the doctors were obviously wrong, to being scared that Ben wouldn’t even show up. If I ever thought before that I wasn’t ready, I definitely wasn’t ready for this. I was transferred onto a delivery suite immediately and got a midwife assigned to me. Within a few hours I was given lots of painkillers and other medication to try to stop the labour, as well as steroids for the little one. Ben arrived with a few friends and I basically cried through it.

Many doctors talked to us after that, explained what little chances there were, what were the possible outcomes, and told me I needed to keep the baby (until that point the sex wasn’t confirmed) inside until at least 24 weeks. The people, nurses, doctors, midwifes, and everybody involved were absolutely amazing. Contractions started slowly but surely and by Saturday morning I was praying for whatever to happen to stop this. At that point, we knew it was going to happen that day and I had never felt less ready. I felt like I needed years to prepare for whatever was coming. I needed my parents, who were thousands of miles away. I wanted as much medication to kill the pain as possible, however I couldn’t get any because it was too risky. Another hard thing was deciding about the unborn baby’s life, just in case. Deciding whether we wanted for the doctors to do everything possible to keep the baby alive or to let nature do what was meant to be. We agreed to give it a try but not to push the little one if he didn’t want to stay with us. I had never felt so lonely in my life. We had been waiting until late evening for my water to break, but once it did the rest happened very quickly.

Eddie was born on Saturday, 12th of May 2018 at 24 weeks of gestation, weighing only 640g (1.4 lbs), breach, but despite all that decided to fight his first big fight for life. Doctors asked us if we wanted to see him, I’m not sure if Ben did, but I was so exhausted that the only thing I wanted was to sleep. Eddie went straight into an incubator and got transferred to the neonatal unit. I got morphine and thought I would rest, but hallucinations and sickness followed. In the early morning hours we were woken up to be transferred to a normal room and after a couple more hours of sleep a nurse came to ask if I wanted to start expressing milk. Honestly? That was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t even want to see my baby. The first journey to the neonatal unit was horrifying, all I wanted was to go home and forget about everything that had happened. Eddie was at the far end, where the sickest babies were, and he was also the smallest one at the unit. When we first saw him, he looked like a little alien without any body fat, with see-through skin, red in colour. I felt awful for not feeling the supposedly instant maternal love.

NICU became the place where I spent most of my time and yet the place I hated most. The dim blue lights, the beeping machines, the hushed tones of doctors and nurses, medical language I didn’t understand despite being fluent in English, everything sterile… On top of the early arrival, Eddie had a large haemorrhage on his brain on both sides and was fully incubated. It was a miracle he survived. That day was the beginning of his long journey. I rushed to get home to sleep in my bed and asked to be discharged the same day. The whole thing felt surreal. For the first few days Eddie was doing amazingly well, but then he got sick very quickly. We were scared to be called in every minute of every day. I felt constantly on edge and unable to relax. I would lie in bed clutching my phone, petrified whenever it rang in case it was bad news. Multiple complications, multiple “you should say your goodbyes now”. Every day was a nightmare with so much stress and fear. Expressing milk every three hours became a very hated chore, especially since Eddie couldn’t receive any milk because of so many complications.

Two days passed and it felt like a week, every day dragged so much. A couple of weeks after Eddie was born we were called at night and spent a day and a half on the unit nonstop as everything was pretty bad; even Ben burst into tears once. Eddie proved the doctors wrong and despite all odds he kept fighting and got better again. I had my first skin to skin cuddle with Eddie with about 6 nurses around just to make sure Eddie was ok. I felt like I couldn’t even move or touch my baby. However, I slowly became familiar with the nurses. Their guidance was great and we could have been involved as much or as little as we wanted, or that is at least what they said. Over the time Ben slowly stopped paying Eddie frequent visits, everything seemed to be much more difficult and the mental health of both of us was slowly hitting bottom. I felt so much pressure; I am the mother, I was the one who always had to come and visit. A few times we planned a trip somewhere and some nurses encouraged me to have a bit of a normal life, but on return to the hospital some nurses couldn’t not mention that I hadn’t visited Eddie for a day. I felt like they judged me and wondered how I could possibly dare not to show up for a few hours.

Most days I felt a strong urge to either curl up in a ball or run away and not have to face life as it was. I felt like jumping out of the window. I don’t think I would have done it, but I felt lost, lonely and distraught. I went through days when I hated even the thought of going to the hospital and days when I couldn’t be anywhere else because it was the only place where I felt safe. I needed Ben but he wasn’t able to be there for me. None of my friends understood (and I don’t blame them) but I felt like I was abandoned. I lived for my job and felt like it was taken from me. Everything was falling apart.  Anybody who tried to be there for me was just not good enough. I felt helpless and hopeless. I kept expressing milk and in the first weeks I did so well that even nurses told me I had to store it at home as they had no space left. That quickly changed, because mental health clearly affects everything. SCIPS, a charity that is based in the hospital offered me private counselling, probably because I cried most of the time, not only when Eddie was not well, but even when he was getting better. I started attending weekly sessions and it took a good 6 months for me to realise that this was not my fault. The idea that every woman has a pregnancy that is 9 months long is just an ideal situation, but what happened to us can happen to anybody.

“Life can throw us many curve balls, with children undoubtedly being one of them. Factor into that medical problems, our very young age as parents, my lack of desire to ever be a parent and an unsure future and you have the mother of all curve balls. To say that I dragged my heels at the thought of being a father would be an understatement. It took me a long time to come to terms with it and to accept that, like it or not, I no longer have the choice; I have a son. The whole journey from finding out that Eli was pregnant to Eddie finally being discharged from hospital has been the most harrowing and emotional yet maturing and life-changing experience that I could ever have imagined going through. Despite initial reluctance towards fatherhood, I was amazed at Eddie’s spirit and will to keep fighting. Despite numerous complications and a few near-death scares, he has found a way to pull through, in no small part thanks to all the staff at the NICU and his own stubborn willpower. Eli was and continues to be incredibly brave and has been so strong for both Eddie and me throughout all of this and is the most wonderful mother that Eddie could ever hope for. Even now with a long way to go before he starts to catch up with the development of children his age, he still manages to astonish us with his progress, and always with a smile on his face. The experience of an un-planned, extremely premature birth has without a doubt taken its toll on our mental health and our relationship, and yet the future still seems brighter than ever with such a lovely, happy boy to light the way. Although Eli and I may have not made it as a couple, I feel that we are doing all that we can to succeed at being the best parents that we can to Eddie and now share a special relationship as a family that has brought us all even closer than before. Seeing his progress after a mere two-hour session at the Bobath Centre was incredible, leading us to believe wholeheartedly that they can aid him in his growth and allow him to live a normal life, regardless of his premature birth. Above all else, I am immeasurably proud and grateful that Eddie is as stubborn as his parents with his never-give-up attitude towards life. He has seized every opportunity so far and I hope that he continues to do so for the rest of his life. He may have been unexpected, but the best gifts are always a surprise.”

Ben, Eddie’s Dad

Eddie was slowly getting better and once he was off any help with breathing, it was just a waiting game until he was ready to go home. I gave up on breastfeeding as the pressure of it and the slow decrease of my milk supply was bringing me down even more. Another hard thing on the unit was seeing all the babies come and go. Nurses told me to talk to other parents many times, and I did, I made a few friends, but most of the time I was jealous of their babies’ progress or the support they had around them… Most of the people I met through NICU always come back and look for a reason to drop in and say hi, but the journey through NICU is the one thing I would very much like to forget about. However, I am and will always be so grateful for all doctors and nurses that helped Eddie to fight for his life.

Eddie got discharged on the 12th of September, exactly 4 months after he was born. Ben and I roomed in for the last night, I don’t think we even exchanged one single word that night, now I know that Ben had never been that scared in his life, and I was too. Unfortunately for me, I was the one who had to be ok and strong. It was just expected of me. We were actually lucky, as Eddie didn’t need any oxygen help at home or a feeding tube, and yet it didn’t feel great.

The first few months at home were definitely not a piece of cake, but I guess it never is for any new parents. I can’t say we didn’t go through anything abnormal (apart from using a lot of syringes and medicine every day), just a lot of crying and the usual things that come with a ‘newborn’ baby. I had to take Eddie back to the hospital three times, twice for a bad episode of bronchiolitis (when once his lung partially collapsed) and once for a hernia operation. Apart from that, our Eddie has grown to be a very happy little boy and I’ve grown to love him more than anything in the world. So did Ben, despite all that’s happened. Our relationship didn’t survive, we failed as a couple, but not as parents, Eddie gave us the strength to realise that even when things aren’t going as planned, we can survive.

Eddie’s now 15 months old. He would have been 1 year old on the 1st of September 2019 if he was born on his due date and weighs an amazing 10 kg! He doesn’t roll over much (even though he can do it), he can’t sit up by himself, he doesn’t crawl and is behind with most of the normal milestones. I stopped taking Eddie to baby groups because I couldn’t cope with other children developing normally and felt like I wanted to give Eddie as much as I could to be able to give him a normal life. After contacting Bliss, an international charity for sick and premature babies and Bobath Centre for children with cerebral palsy, Eddie has been admitted onto the Early Intervention Scheme in Bobath Centre Wales and had his first assessment with a senior physiotherapist in August. We will have more sessions to go to and an intensive block every 4 months. It will be a lot of hard work and exercise and we are praying that Eddie will be able to have a normal life one day.

I wouldn’t wish for anybody to have an extremely premature child but I am happy to be the person I’ve become and that’s pretty much shaped by what I’ve been through over the last two years, even though I am still very far away from being ok with everything that’s happened. I have severe panic attacks and strong anxiety, I’ve become terrified of sharing personal things with people around me and I know this experience will affect me for a long time. Writing this story, however, and going through everything again seems to be the right step now, a step forward. All of my family, from my one thousands of miles away to my one here including Ben and Ben’s family and my close friends, we all love Eddie very much and I wouldn’t change that for anything. He is our little miracle!

Eli, Eddie’s mum 

(originally posted on  15th August 2019) 

”We did not know that our son, Ben, and Eli were expecting a baby until less than a month before Eddie was born, so everything seemed to happen incredibly quickly thereafter.  We were very worried when Eli went into labour so early and whilst delighted at the news that Eddie had come into the world, we were also very anxious about not only our first and only grandson being born so prematurely (and all the health issues and problems arising from that) but also the pain and worry that our son and Eli would be going through, given the circumstances of Eddie’s very early birth.  We tried to give as much support as we could, in whichever way we could, but living a 5 hour return journey away meant it was difficult to visit and we didn’t want to get in the way, so texts were the main means of information exchange.  Ben and Eli kept us as well informed as they could, and news that the hospital had told them to go and say their final goodbyes on several occasions was truly heart-breaking, but Eddie clearly had different ideas and decided he wasn’t ready to leave. We first visited Eddie in the hospital incubator when he was 6 weeks old; he was so tiny and so beautiful, we fell in love with him immediately. We were overwhelmed at the wonderful support and care given by NICU and marvelled at Eddie’s fighting spirit. When Eddie came out of hospital, we visited again and the first time we babysat for him overnight, was really truly scary; there were so many things to remember: when to give his meds, when to feed, what to do if he choked, and so forth, but Eli and Ben’s calm parenting (plus the fact they were just a couple of streets away!) put us at ease and we had no problems at all; we thoroughly enjoyed the whole experience as any grandparents would.  When we babysat again a few months later for 3 whole days all by ourselves, we loved every minute of it and just wished we lived closer so that we could help more readily.We know our son was affected very deeply by Eddie’s birth and struggled at first to cope as a father, and although this whole experience has taken a toll on Ben and Eli’s relationship with each other, we still very much see them all as part of our wider family. We have never ceased to be amazed at how wonderful they both are as parents, and at the strength and fortitude of Eddie – he is such a fighter. We are so happy and proud to be his grandparents, and were delighted that Bobath accepted Eddie onto their Early Intervention Scheme so that he can have extra help with his developmental issues; we’re sure this extra help will make all the difference in the world to him in the future.” Anne and Simon, Proud Grandparents

[phoebehalliwell]

I loved your cataloguing all of prue’s potential kids!! Like the detail that went into it is *chef kiss* I can’t wait to see what story you come with with Sheridan and Warren! Also, that post got me thinking, what do you think would have happened had Andy become a whitelighter and come back? How do you think that would have effected his and Prue’s hypothetical kids? Like would one of them been the twice-blessed do you think?

it’s 2.2k under the cut bc idk how to shut up

okay so for a whitelighter!andy & prue i think The Move would be like in the s3 finale the source has tempus reverse time but then like idk knocks out leo or whatever because he knows that without him there both prue and piper will die from their injuries what he doesn’t know is that there’s a certain other whitelighter who will watch from the fringes check in but not interfere for risk of being caught going against the rules but when he sees piper and prue inches from death and no way leo can get to them in time, andy has to make a choice. he has to heal them. oh but now we have the elders all pissy because whitelighters are only supposed to work with their own charges their not supposed to run around freelance healing other people’s charges that’d be chaos so clearly there needs to be some consequences and andy’s ready to like gracefully take whatever’s dealt out to him and prue’s like I Think The Fuck Not and like goes to bat for andy talking about how she would have been dead without him how the charmed ones would be gone without him really rains hell down on the elders so they’re like ᵒᵏᵃʸ ᶠᶦⁿᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷᵉ ʷᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵖᵘⁿᶦˢʰ ʰᶦᵐ ᶦᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒ ʳᵘᵈᵉ blah blah blah so prue and andy talk in the heavens and it’s sorta awkward at first bc prue’s like so. you’re not dead. that’s good. bc you know. you’re not dead. and andy’s like yeah. but like he’s reading the subtext here bc he Knows prue and she’s saying i’m so happy your alive but i’m really hurt that you never told me. that i mourned you and thought you were gone forever but you weren’t you were right there. and andy’s not entirely sure what to say bc like. what was he supposed to do. and he understands how prue feels but he couldn’t have just orbed in like hi i’m a whitelighter and you’ll never see me again it was better for prue to mourn and move on so she that had a shot at happiness but now he’s face to face with her and what i thought it would be better for you? it sounds hollow so instead of trying to explain himself he just says the first thing that comes to mind i never stopped loving you and he’s ready to orb back into the ether or whatever bc while the elders won’t punish him for saving prue & piper they’re still not jazzed and he’s still not allowed to interact with them when prue kisses him and tell him like i lost you once i’m not about to do it again marry me. and like they’re married within the hour bc by now the charmed ones have done this before they can do it on a speed round mode and the elders are like hey we said- and prue’s like sorry i can’t hear you over the sound of holy matrimony suck my balls blah blah blah like end season 3 i’m not sure when prue would have her first child though and if it would predate wyatt bc like. y’know her career’s still very much in its early stages she’s still on the up & up and her and andy haven’t actually like been together in a minute so there’s a lot of catching up to do whereas like piper and leo have consecutively been together longer she’s owned p3 longer than prue’s been a photographer so she’s already p locked in on that & she can do her job sitting down which is a plus. so i think in a whitelighter andy au wyatt will still be born first but patricia will be born within the same year, maybe six months after wyatt and i don’t think wyatt would really be like the twiced blessed bc like patricia would be Right There and he’s just no longer special enough to really warrant a prophecy y’know? i also think in this au it would take longer for prue and andy to move out bc y’know like again they just got andy back but i think she would still be out of the house by the end of season four beginning of season five ish i also think like the thing they really didn’t consider is that their kid’s gonna be half whitelighter so when piper’s like yeah have you vomited orbs yet lmao prue’s like wait. especially bc like andy’s only been a whitelighter for like a year or two and they’re both like oh word what does this mean and like they have leo and sorta piper to answer their questions but it’s sorta like they’ve got this vibe that no matter what happens like we’re in this together we have each other’s back we can do anything real power couple vibe they’re very like sappy like they’re aware they’re sappy & they’re not gonna stop.

& then a bit on sheridan & warren bc in the specific au i’m gonna write them in it still starts the same as it did here but i am keeping prue’s canon death in s3. and so like s4 the twins are still toddlers and i think piper and phoebe would still offer to watch them on like weekdays or whatever bc they still have a bedroom in the manor and jack still sorta lives in a bachelor pad and like the kids do have magic powers and jack definitely is there more and shows up more bc those are his kids and one day he shows up and there’s a demon attack and he like knew prue fought demons but he had never y’know. been in the line of fire so to speak and he’s like does this happen a lot and piper’s like yeah sort of and phoebe’s like there’s no need to worry warren and sheridan are totally safe here and jack’s like really because the scorched wallpaper begs to differ and piper’s like we understand your panic but like we can keep them safe and jack’s like no i don’t think you understand my panic those are my sons they’re my only kids and they’ve already lost prue i’m not. i’m taking them with me. and like the girls get where he’s coming from (paige is also here she just doesn’t really know jack so she’s hanging out with leo in the kitchen like 😐) basically they bind warren & sheridan’s powers and phoebe modifies the dominus trinus (now the dominus dualis ig) and tells jack that when they’re ready this will give them their magic back. and so like he moves them into his place but it’s not built for kids and so he’s on the hunt for a new place but also like a new jobs bc like bucklands blows without prue and almost everything there reminds him of her and he really just needs a fresh start so when he gets a job offer in japan he packs his bags & the three of them are off and then it’s like maybe four years in japan and then we’ll say he goes to new york and that lasts maybe two years and now warren and sheridan are like in elementary school and he knows the hopping from place to place isn’t like good for them and he really needs to settle down for a place that’s gonna be like Home and he knows he has to return to san francisco. so 2007 he’s back in san francisco he does not cross paths with the halliwells again and he sorta feels like he should bc like sheridan & warren Are Witches that’s like part of who they are and like he and prue had agreed before that they would raise them with magic because prue wishes she had known she was a witch she had always thought that had she had come earlier to the craft she could have done more good maybe not lost as many people and jack knows he has to unbind their magic eventually especially bc that was what prue wanted and like prue was always right but like. fuck dude. his kids were wizards. witches, whatever. like how is he supposed to raise kids with magic. like should he just go back to the manor and be like hi raise my magic kids for me he doesn’t want to do that those are his kids he doesn’t want to dump them off somewhere much less the place where their mom died so basically he keeps postponing it he keeps blowing it off and the kids are growing up normal & safe but still it’s gnawing at him bc it’s not what prue wanted and he doesn’t want to send them into the world unprepared and like sheridan & warren are like sixteen now and he’s like fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. what am i doing what am i gonna do i don’t know a goddamn thing so he’s like fuck it. hi god it’s me jack. i don’t believe in you and i don’t really believe in praying but here i am on my knees bc i’m lost. i think i’ve fucked up but i don’t know how to make it better, i want to do the right thing but i don’t even know what that is, would love some like. guidance. or something. i guess. and he like waits because like magic is real so like. hey god. do something please. and nothing happens and he’s like whatever this is why i never went to church blah blah blah That Night he dreams he’s at p3, which is weird because it’s been closed for like eight years and jack hasn’t thought about it in like twice that long but that’s where he is. and it’s like empty and a bit messy like there’s been a concert but now it’s late and everyone’s gone home. everyone except him, and the raven haired woman at the bar. prue. and listen jack doesn’t cry okay he doesn’t saw marley and me and like didn’t even sniffle (lie, he cried) but he sees prue and well uhh he’s crying a lil bc like fuck. he misses her. and he misses her confidence and the way she always seemed to have the right answer and could always manage to save the day and he misses her. and he’s like i hope you’re here to answer my prayers and she smiles at him bc he’s always so glib and stupid and it drives her up the wall but she still loves it about him and she’s like actually, i am. and idk she talks with him and quells his fears and he’s like how do i even bring that up to them he guys you’re wizards -witches. yeah that. like how do i even broach that. and prue’s like get the spell. and be ready. and she just sorta vanishes and he’s like cool are you gonna save the day like you always do but he can already feel she just isn’t there anymore and he’s like okay :/ and he wakes up and it’s like three am and he wants to go back to bed the whole magic thing is just niggling at the back of his mind so he gets out of bed and hunts down his old briefcase he had from all the way back at bucklands and finds just like a blank unlabelled folder and takes a deep breath and in it are some old photos of prue and him from the 90s and a thick folded up piece of paper with a torn edge and he carefully unfolds it and in like a really nice script is the unbinding spell and then like warren and sheridan are like dad? why are you awake right now and he’s like why are you awake right now? and they twins sorta share a look and warren’s like weird dream and sheridan’s looking over his dad’s shoulder and sees the pictures of prue and is like is this mom? and he takes the pictures and jack’s like yeah those are from. they’re from a long time ago. and sheridan and warren are looking at these pictures and like they wanna ask something but aren’t sure how to say it so jack goes first and he’s like your mom wanted you to have this and hands them the spell and they’re like what. is this? and he’s like its a spell. to unbind your powers. magic powers. i know i should have told you earlier and i’m sorry but i- are ghost real? what? like. can dead people... y’know... and jack breaks into a smile bc he’s so glad that they actually got to like. meet prue. have at least one memory of her. and so sheridan and warren take the spell and are like. so do we read it? and jack’s like idk i’m not a witch yeah i guess so y’know  hear now the words of the witches, the secrets we hid in the night. the oldest of gods are invoked here. the great work of magic is sought. in this night and in this hour, i call upon the ancient power. bring your powers to we brothers two, we want the power, give us the power. and like the apartment shakes and idk the lights flicker and the brothers are like cool. now what. and jack’s like i don’t know. guess we’ll find out.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Stinky Love

Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader

ONE SHOT

Warnings: NSFW! Stay safe kiddos! No funny business till you know what you’re doing. Okay?

Word Count: It’s weird. Not bad. Not good weird. But it is weird nonetheless. I might be stuck in the middle. I want to make healthy decisions. The start of it? Hmm...let’s see...today I consciously did not get into hyperactive mode when I had nothing to do at work. I told myself it is okay to rest for ten minutes without thinking of having something in hand every second! Another thing I did was greet the guards at the entrance (Anxiety- 0 Me- 1). Oh aaaand I wrote this! Despite my block. Because someone really special requested it. :D

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"Easy. Easy. Eeeeasy. EEE-"

"SHUT UP, SAM!"

"Okay."

You put your hand on your knees, trying to get some air inside your lungs while the tears basically flew into the relentless wind that tried its very best to crack open your cheeks until the blood gushed out.

"Oh fuck!" You sobbed, not knowing what to do with this poisonous feeling in your gut right before you felt the rush and out came the contents of your stomach.

Sam’s hand was already on your back making gentle upward strokes to get everything out once and for all, all the while trying his best to soothe you through the pain and embarrassment.

"Oh my God ," you cried a bit louder this time.

"Shh," Sam cut you with his soft voice, "it's okay. It's perfectly normal. It could happen to anyone. Not everyone has the stomach for...this. Here."

You took the bottle from his hand and rinsed your mouth of the toxic kick of your insides lingering in every taste bud and stood up straight- measuring the straightness of the spine with the amount your gut could take without throwing anything more out. Once you were sure of it, you sighed with ease and cut a look at Sam.

"I puked. On my shoes. Because I couldn't handle a cable car, Sam."

Sam tried to form words in his mouth but all he ended up doing was making funny faces that had no idea what they were trying to achieve. "Wel- I mean...I'm sure someone else might've"

" A CABLE CAR !"

Sam sighed and took your hand, walking away from the snowy edge towards the gazebo resting on the hilltop that was one way of him sheltering you from the cold winter breeze trying to ruin your perfect cheeks. The wooden chairs had fluffed Tibetan cushions and a corner by the thick cement pillar to sit over the traditionally made mattresses and enjoy the fire from the fire pit kept in the centre of it all. He took you by the corner and sat down with you.

"I am pretty sure something was wrong with that cable car, babe. Even I'm feeling a little weird in the stomach," he assured you and wiped away those precious tears off your face gently, not taking his stubborn eyes off you till he was sure you believed him.

"Liar," you muttered, your voice still broken from all the crying, your body pushing itself closer to Sam, who was more than happy to wrap his arms around you. "Don't you dare tell the rest about this. Or I swear to God, Samuel Thomas Wilson, you will regret it for the rest of your life."

Sam suppressed his giggles but his eyes were giving away the humour they found when those brown eyes saw the cuteness that erupted out of you whenever you threatened him. Hell, he'd been turned on on more than one occasion when you'd been trying to fight him, never taking the situation where it was supposed to go.

"Okay. Yeah. I can promise you that. Sure." Sam shrugged and nodded, his smile growing wider with every second when he could see your nose flare up at the thought of finding your misery so funny.

So he kissed your nose.

"Stop it," you groaned, scrunching your nose, "I stink."

"Oh," Sam tilted his head, "no you don't," and ended up kissing your cheek before moving to your jaw and then down your neck, nearly catching your sweet spot till you wiggled and closed yourself like a touch-me-not at his caress and giggled. " Staahaap ! Stop it! I really do stink." And to not give his sex-brain an edge over you, you got up and stood three feet apart from him, smirking with victory.

Sam exhaled. And for some reason, you could see that familiar heavy gaze in his melting eyes- the very gaze that meant he was wondering, of all the ways to turn you on in such a way that you just couldn't resist.

Oh no.

"Sooo," he nearly whistled the word, "if you don't drink anymore, you won't stop running away from my sloppy kisses."

Okay...this is a trap.

This definitely has to be a trap.

"Whatcha say, Y/N?"

Trap. Trap. Trap.

"Yeah sure. Why not. But I don't see a way of getting out of this stink filled clothes and boots any time soon. We're four hour's hike away from Tony's summer house. And the weather doesn't look like a good time to travel."

You stood there, quite proud of yourself at counting down all the possible ways he could get his expert hands on you- damn those hands, they really know how to work you. There was no way out of here unless by some miracle-

"Friday," Sam announced out of nowhere, lounging back onto the seat, "give us some privacy, would you?"

What?

"Wait-"

"Here you go, Mr Wilson," Friday's voice echoed through the gazebo before you saw walls rising up from the stones in the ground- with fucking windows at that- and tiny partitions divided that space to welcome- out of the ground like some grand revelation- a cosy bed in one corner with a shower attached in the wall across the glass partition. The fireplace crackled to life and warm lights flooded this small yet unimaginably comfortable little place.

"Would you like some music?" Friday asked politely.

"Yes, please," Sam announced, quite proud of himself, "put on something slow and sexy for my woman here."

You looked at him, eyes filled with equal amounts of shock and appreciation.

"You knew ," you mention, "that's why you brought me here."

"It was hard getting some alone time with you back at Tony's place. Of course, I had to get you away from there."

And that's why I love you.

You took a step towards him before going back, making Sam raise his brow in questioning confusion.

"I really want to kiss you right now but I would hate myself if you smell all the vomit on me."

"Okaaaay..." He sang softly while getting up and closing the distance between the two of you, his fingers undoing the zipper of your jacket, "how about we get that stink off you so that I can kiss you as much as I want you."

And as soon as your head nodded an approval, a slow dance began to get you- and him- out of the clothes.

The jacket and sweater were already on the floor when you were moving away from the little living room space towards the bedroom and bathroom space, Sam helping you out of your blue t-shirt- his favourite- and folding it neatly before putting it on the bed.

You, on the other hand, had already got him half-naked, reaching for his belt but not quick enough for he already had his thumbs hooked into your jeans, twirling you to get his hands on your bra, unhooking it to let it go of your breaths, kissing your shoulders as he does so.

"Wha-hey!" You tried to refrain from giving in. "That's not our deal!"

You could feel the vibrations of Sam's chuckle on your shoulder, his hands already done with the jeans, sliding them down your legs with a little help from you. You were throwing the pair away when Sam pressed the shower controls, letting a gush of effectively warmed water hit you with the right amount of pressure. You turned around to catch your boyfriend in his boxers, wiping away his face of the stray water beads before reaching for the shower gel by the slot in the wall.

His hands massaged your muscles in the shoulders, your arms and stomach and then took the help of the loofah to make foam up his work. Soon enough, every last trace of the stink along with fatigue was gone, washed away by the water, the stench of gory sickness leaving you to be replaced by a wave of everything fresh.

It was a task to get Sam away from you just so he could let you brush your teeth- thanks to Stark's complimentary toiletries- but you somehow did escape his arms to get that bit done and wrap yourself in a robe and walk out into the bedroom.

The bed was too enticing after that five-hour hike and your legs did not have the energy to do anymore. Though watching Sam's lusty eyes, you felt he had some other plans.

"Sam, babe, I know this-"

"Shhhh..." He was already on the bed, shushing you by his fingers before planting a light kiss on your lips and planting himself behind you on the bed where you sat. "Let me help you get rid of it."

His hands picked up a slow, sensual pace, grinding his thumbs into your shoulders and back, letting them feel the pain, winding up the fatigue itself before releasing the grip to make everything feel five times lighter than before. Your moans were just a bonus, which, it's quite obvious to say, was turning Sam on, making him leave deep kisses where his touch would leave marks where the pain left and relief entered.

"I-ahh didn't know I could get turned o-oohhh-on by a massage!"

Yup. Your words were becoming an incoherent slur just as time passed by and his hands were finding there way down your waist, forcing you to lie down and let your body enjoy the much-needed love and sweet sweet torture.

"Oh...but I'm just getting started, pumpkin," he announced before slapping your butt cheek and turning you on your back and opening your legs.

"Well, who am I to say no to excellent service," you shrugged and pressed your lips to prevent the cheeky smirk about to land on your face while Sam chuckled and kissed your thighs, leaving wet kisses and nibbles on his way to your core.

His hot breath was your undoing. His touch dropped every last chain of restraint while his tongue called the Goddess of sex to come out and play.

And play, they did. The best concert on your aroused instrument, his tongue the professional conductor, knowing which swing and twirl of his will bring the perfect symphonies out of you, making you writhe under him with rising pleasure that was the quickest high on record.

"Sam," his name was coming out as a breathless chant from your lips, your hands finding his hair while his tried to keep your hips in place. "Please," the Goddess was begging to let the waves rise above the dams to let the floodgates be opened, either way, the high wanted to end with a thundering roar.

The moans grew louder once his fingers found your sweet spots and his tongue worked its magic around your clit. The tightness of your walls around him were telling him to increase the pace, making the Goddess dance with pleasure unknown before. The torrents rose, taking all your senses with them before breaking with a bang, their echoes coming after as Sam made sure he let you enjoy every last drop of nature's nectar.

Breathless.

Both you and him.

He flumped into the mattress beside you, watching your flushed face with a chuckle.

"How ya feelin'"

"...lucky?"

The walls vibrated with his laughter. Sam turned to you, picking the box of tissues- luxurious, of course; thank you, Stark- from the bedside table to help clean up the mess before taking you in his arms and wrapping you both in the duvet.

You kissed him. Once. Twice. Thrice. Okay, just one last time , because the number of kisses you wanted to shower him with was not enough.

"Okay, alright, sweetheart," Sam stated, taking another love-filled kiss from you, "your eyes are half open and you are on the edge of falling into a coma if you don't sleep right this second."

You groan. "Lemme kiss youuuuhhh."

Wrapping you in his arm, bringing you closer to his warm chest, Sam planted a peck your forehead.

"Sweet dreams, honey."

You yawned, tickling his chest with your breath. Your body bringing itself closer to his for the attractive abundance of love and warmth, your lips wearing a smile at the thought of him loving you even when you were a stinky mess.

"I love you, Samuel Thomas Wilson."

"I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N."

[bazzybelle]

Carry On Countdown - Day Eleven

Notes: So… I wrote this story (the first half) during one of my spirals. Go find my WLW fic if you’re that curious, I don’t want to word-vomit about my mental health again. I had originally wanted to just keep the first half, but @fight-surrender helped me to find a little hope (some that I was missing, to be honest).  

Lyrics/title are from the song “Let It Be” by The Beatles. This is my favourite song and never fails to help me cry out my emotions and help me calm down when I’m too in my own head. It’s what’s playing in the background, as I try to make sense of the jumbled words/emotions bouncing around up there. 

Also, a disclaimer, I am aware that everyone’s experience with depression is different. I am coming at this fic based on my own personal experiences and spirals. 

All my love go to @carryonsimoncarryonbaz for talking me through this fic and encouraging me to post it despite its grim tone; to @fight-surrender for listening to me during my thought spirals and for being a beacon during my dark moments (also, for giving me the idea to add some hope/reflection into the story); and to my husband who makes me tea when I’m sad and doesn’t push me to talk about my sadness and has been nothing but supportive though my journey of returning to writing. 

I’m also gonna give love to @giishu and @f-ing-ruthless-baz because my newfound friendship with them has given me life. Thank you.

I’m working at being ok. Love to you all. Be kind to yourselves and to each other. 

If you’re going through a hard time, I send you love and support. My inbox is always open to talk/cry/laugh about stupidities. 

TW: Depression, thoughts of worthlessness. Suicidal thoughts.

Day 11 Prompt: Angst Day

Title: Let It Be

________________________________________________________________

When the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me. Shine until tomorrow, let it be.  

SIMON

It’s better if I lay here on the sofa. 

That way, I can’t muck up anything more than what I’ve already mucked up.

It’s better if I lay here on the sofa. 

That way, I don’t have to see the looks of pity and sadness on Baz’s and Penny’s faces. That way, Baz won’t have to look at me and realize that I’m not worth his time. I’m not worth anyone’s time.

It’s better if I lay here on the sofa. 

That way, the constant light and hum of the television can help numb me of whatever I’m feeling inside. 

Useless, wasted, worthless…

A fraud, a phony, a fake. 

The colours outside my window turn from orange to yellow, to white. Then back to yellow, and orange, and finally to the deep blue of night. The cycle repeats day after day after day. I run the risk of losing track of time completely, if Penny and Baz weren’t here all the damn time.  

And they are always here. 

Always hovering, always asking me questions, always trying to get me to talk. 

I don’t want to bloody talk! I want to sleep. I want to be alone. I want to disappear and no longer burden anyone. 

Maybe it would have been better if the Humdrum had finished me off completely. Maybe it would have been better if I wasn’t around. Penny would be in America, with Micah and Baz would be moving on with someone more worthwhile. They would have moved on and found their place in this world. A world that I no longer belong to. A world that I never really belonged to. 

It was all really a lie, wasn’t it? A beautifully crafted, perfectly executed lie. I was never meant to exist in the World of Mages. I am and have always been, just a Normal. Everything that I felt during the last 8 years of my life have been a part of that elaborate lie.  The happiness, the power, the sense that I was a part of something amazing. All of it was a lie. 

The friendship I felt with Penny, the love I felt with Baz; also lies. Those are the lies that hurt me the most, because they are persistent. They didn’t go away like the other lies. They didn’t go away with my magic. They didn’t go away when The Mage and the Humdrum were defeated. They didn’t go away when I failed to save Ebb’s life. 

Instead, they stick around because they pity me. They stick around because they both made promises to me, and they don’t wish to break them. They stick around because maybe I make them feel better about themselves. If Penny or Baz have an off-day, well, at least they aren’t like me. At least they have their magic and at least they belong somewhere. No matter how much the world hurts them, they will never be as fucked up as me. 

I can hear them now, in the kitchen, making some food. They’re always making me food, trying to get me to eat something. Just the thought of eating something makes me sick to my stomach. The smell is nauseating. I haven’t been able to keep anything down for very long. I mostly just eat the crisps I buy from the corner store and wash it down with some cider. Penny has nagged endlessly at me that I cannot sustain myself on a diet of crisps and cider. It was annoying at first, but now I’ve learned to drown her out. 

A small voice inside is telling me that they’re doing it because they’re concerned for me and that they just want to help. I shut that voice up and insist that they see me as so pitiful that I can’t even cook for myself. 

They’re probably right. I’d probably just end up setting the flat on fire. Let’s hope Baz isn’t nearby if I ever do attempt to cook for myself. 

I know what will happen next. They’ll finish cooking whatever it is they’re cooking. One of them will sit at the table and do schoolwork while eating. The other will sit down on the sofa’s armrest and try to get me to eat something. Then they’ll switch places. That goes on for about a couple of hours, until the food’s gone cold. They’ll then wrap the food up and finally leave me in peace. They’ll study together for a few more hours until Baz decides he’s had enough and leaves for the night. Penny will usually go to bed once he leaves.  

It’s at this time, where I finally get off the couch. I will walk to the balcony of the flat and just stare outside at the other buildings, the sky, the people, and the ground below. I will lean my body halfway over the edge and just stare at the ground below. I’ll stare and I’ll think and maybe I’ll push myself a little further over the edge. Maybe I’ll bring myself closer to the ground this time. Maybe I’ll finally have the courage to let go. Maybe I’ll finally have the courage to finally let Penny and Baz free from ever worrying about me again. 

Or maybe I’ll be a coward and make my way back to the couch. More likely, it’ll be that outcome because I’ll think of their faces and how I just want to see them for one more day. 

But, who’s to say really?

“Snow? Would you like some of this fettucini? Bunce has tried a new recipe and she’s convinced it’s good enough for Ramsey. I personally think she’s daft.” 

So Baz has the first shift today. Very well then. 

Here we go.  

*****

I close the notebook and take a deep breath. The entry I’ve just read was from a very dark moment in my life. Or rather, it was a recollection of a very dark time in my life. I had written it at the suggestion of my therapist. He suggested that I start keeping a journal as a way to track my thoughts. That way, it would be easier for me to isolate the negative thoughts in my head. The belief was that, by isolating my thoughts, it would become easier to challenge them. By writing them down, they become tactile. By becoming tactile, they become easier to fight and replace with more positive thoughts.

I thought it was all bollocks at first and was not very good at tracking my thoughts. That is, until one of my intrusive thoughts settled into my brain and would not leave. It sat there and festered and festered, until it completely took over. That day, I nearly returned to the sofa and threw away everything that I had worked so hard to achieve. That day, I looked at Baz, and thought about the ways he would be better off without me and that maybe I should end it right now. 

Instead of giving into my dark thoughts, I asked him if he had an empty notebook and a pen I could borrow. And because he is an absolute intellectual wanker, of course he had a spare notebook in his bag, as well as a burgundy pen (Baz likes to use non-conventional writing tools. He’s currently very excited about using fountain pens). I could tell from his eyes that he wanted desperately to ask me what was wrong. I gave him a sad smile and sat down at the table and began to write. 

I wrote and I cried, and I thought back to that dark, depressing part of my life. Baz had made me some tea and sat down next to me, rubbing my shoulders and grabbing my hand when I needed it. I continued to write as he brought me some food and reheated my tea when it got cold. I cried, as he held my hand and ran his thumb over my rough knuckles. When I was done, I closed the book and let him hold me. I let him hold me while I cried onto his expensive shirt. 

I now look at the entry and think about how far I have come since not only the day I wrote the entry, but also the time where I felt no hope. It’s been almost seven years since my last year at Watford, and I can’t believe how different my life has been since then. It hasn’t been easy and I still slip up from time to time. 

My notebook has grown into a collection, spanning throughout my experiences volunteering with displaced youth, throughout my work as a counselor, and throughout my decision to go to University, specializing in Psychology. I turn to the framed diploma on the wall (Baz had wanted to get the most distinguished looking frame; I veto-ed it right away considering it was just an undergraduate’s diploma), and to the acceptance letters in my hand. I had gotten accepted into a Master’s program at both University College of London as well as Cambridge fucking University. 

Imagine… Me, Simon Snow attending a University as prestigious as fucking Cambridge. 

Cambridge.

I haven’t yet told Baz about my acceptance letters, but I have been talking about and stressing over this application process for nearly all of last year. I had gotten the letters this morning and I was planning on waiting until he got home before telling him. 

Baz.

I think about Baz and how far we have come as a couple. When I think back to how we went from enemies, to lovers who could not communicate, to now being a healthy stable relationship. I can’t believe it sometimes. We do slip up and we do fight occasionally (rarely… if ever at all), but we always come back to each other. We needed some help in learning how to bridge that gap in communication, but after a lot of work, I think we’re starting to get to a point where we’re just happy together. The doubts about us barely linger in my mind anymore. Now, I just want to focus on making sure that Baz feels happy and secure with us. I do that by letting him know that I love him and care about him and that I will always be there for him. 

We had been living together for almost a year (Penny had moved in with Shepard, after convincing him to stay in London -- like he was EVER going to leave Penny, the man is mad about her) (Baz’s aunt moved in with a Normal woman she had been seeing for years, so she wasn’t upset by the loss of a flat-mate) and I would say the biggest challenge has been learning how balance giving space and receiving love and affection. I would say that we’re not doing too shabby.

As if my thoughts summon him, Baz steps through the threshold of the flat, groceries in his arms. “Hello Love. How was your day?” He asks me. I love it when he calls me that… Love. I’m his Love, and he is mine. I smile and blush. It makes me happy that even after all this time, Baz can still make me blush like this.  

“Hey babe… I uhhh… I have umm... some news.” Baz raises an eyebrow at me. He places the bags on top of the kitchen counter and walks over to me. He places a kiss on my head, when he notices the letters on the table. His eyes widen and he grabs both letters from the table. 

Baz is quiet. I start picking at my cuticles and my leg starts to bounce. Baz looks at me, and it can only be described as a look of complete adoration. Seven years ago, I would have hated that look and fought it. Now, I smile back at him and grab his hand as I nod at him.

“Simon…” he breathes out. He settles slowly into the chair next to me. He looks at me and back to the letters. He gives my hand a squeeze and lifts it up to his face. He gives it a small kiss and nuzzles it softly. “Love, I knew you would make it in… Bloody Cambridge. I am so proud of you, my darling.”

I blush and momentarily look away from him, before I remember that it’s alright to feel vulnerable and that I’ve earned this moment of bliss. I look back at him and I can feel a few tears in my eyes. Baz cups my face in his hands and draws me into a deep kiss. I grab onto his face and I take in everything about him. His scent (still the same combination of cedar and bergamot that he’s always had), the cold of his hands, the softness of his lips. The light hum of his voice as he takes me in as well. He breaks our kiss and places another one on my forehead. 

“Bloody Cambridge…” I gasp out, shaking my head. I still cannot believe it.

“Love… You’ve earned it!” Baz is running his fingers through my hair. I tip my head towards him, enjoying this calming touch.

“Can I handle it?”

Baz barks out a laugh. “You’ve killed a dragon during first year. You defeated a chimera during our fifth. You graduated Uni with honours! You can handle anything and everything!”

“But it’s so pretentious…” I make a face and stick my tongue out in disgust. Honestly, the thought of being surrounded by people who were probably more pretentious than Baz (wait… that may not be possible, no one is more pretentious than my posh boyfriend).

“Simon…” Baz raises an eyebrow at me. “I think you can handle a few pretentious snobs. You won me over without even trying.”

“I’ll be so far away.” I move closer to him and wrap my arms around his waist. Baz pulls me onto his lap and I settle into the crook of his neck. I nuzzle him a little and think about how crazy I’ll be without him near me everyday. 

“I’ll come visit. Crowely, maybe I’ll even move there with you until you’ve done your Master’s.” Baz is lightly scratching my back and I let out a tiny moan. I fucking love it when he does that. I pull away from him for a second and wrap my arms around his neck. I stare into his stormy-grey eyes. 

“I’m fucking terrified.” I whisper. 

Baz’s lips curl up into a gentle half-smile. He trails his fingers over my arms. “And that’s alright. We’ll figure it out.”

“Together?”  

“Together.” 

Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah let it be. There will be an answer, let it be. Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

[nekoabiwrites]

This Day Aria

A fic I planned back when Can Lying Be Good first came out... and I’ve finally written it! I feel vaguely accomplished! I might do a companion part to use the other half of the song because that would be super cute.

As it is based off of the events of A Canterlot Wedding and specifically This Day Aria, the link to the song is right here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UzsxfO7dBlA

AU: Royal Pairing: Royality Words: 1415 Warnings: Villain!Deceit, Patton impersonation, mention of holes in anatomy based off of changeling designs from MLP. Anything else, please let me know!

Summary: The royal wedding is approaching very soon, yet something seems to be up with the prince.

---

“Thank you so much. Yes, of course. Goodbye!”

The door shut with a soft click and the friendly façade melted from the prince’s face, leaving an air of disgust as he looked down at himself. He crossed the room to look in the full length mirror, taking in his appearance.

“How utterly disgusting…” He ran a hand around his face, looking at it from all angles, “So… human.” He wrinkled his nose slightly before sighing and relaxing his posture, “I suppose it just cannot be helped if I want this to go smoothly. Thank goodness they’re all morons.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from the usually high-pitched, soft voice of the prince as it began morphing to an even more sinister tone as the entity’s body completely changed; false yellow flames fanning down along the body in order to remove the princely exterior.

“Ah… much better.” The voice was now more sinister, far eviller than before. The entity stared at his reflection with a much more pleased expression. He ran his hand down the same part of his face as he had done prior, allowing the now claw-like nails to catch on the crevices that were present. The amount of them in the small area almost gave the impression of scales when looked at in the right light and the entity just loved it when people got the shock of seeing what it truly was, not that they lasted too much longer after that.

Another chuckle rumbled through him at the thought. Then the sound of footsteps approaching down the corridor had the entity returning the human disguise back into place, the false flames shifting up his body instead this time. The knocking at the door and the voice that followed had him stilling entirely.

“I have been told to inform you that the wedding is to take place in two hours, Prince Patton. The tailors are ready to help you into your dress, if you are ready for them.”

“Tell them I am ready.”

‘So demeaning to be reduced to the title of ‘prince’…’ The entity thought to himself as the tailors entered the prince’s chambers, the inner voice sounding like his undisguised voice, ‘But it will not be long before I return to my ‘king’ status. Just a short while longer and the plan will be a complete success.’

Not too long after, he was looking at himself in the mirror as the tailors were making their final adjustments. While the entity was still disgusted by the sight of the human he was pretending to be dressed in all white like some symbol of false purity, it did also give him a smug feeling. The plan was working just right, everything was falling into place and no one was even wary of him. Well, almost no one, but it wasn’t like he was going to be able to get out of there any time soon, if ever.

The tailors finally left after ensuring that he was happy with the garment. Once the hallway was silent once more, the entity grinned menacingly at his own reflection, “This is going to be perfect. Oh so wonderfully perfect. After dreaming and planning, ever since I was young, it is finally happening.”

“The best part is that no one is the wiser. They shall treat me like him.” He curtsied sarcastically deep and with an exaggeratedly sweet expression before chuckling deeply with an evil grin, “They will all compliment me on my dress, on my flowers, on the décor. Yet not one of them knows I have tricked them all!” The entity spoke to the prince’s reflection, looking all too pleased with himself.

He regarded himself in the mirror for a moment before continuing his monologue, “The best part is that I don’t care for this dress. I don’t care for these flowers. I don’t care for any of this. Yet, this was all done to my request. All because they just wanted to keep me oh so happy.” He fluttered his eyelashes in false purity before morphing immediately back into the extremely pleased smirk, “All I care for is having this kingdom for my own.”

He spun around in the dress a couple of times, watching it flare out dramatically despite the extremely long train that coiled around his feet. Laughter bubbled up from inside of him, though it came out as more of an evil cackle than anything joyous.

“All this frivolity, all this show. Just for a supposed loving union between two people? It is absolute madness, the lengths these humans will go. Although…” The entity absent-mindedly licked his lips, “I cannot deny that the groom does love the prince with all of his heart. And this love is why I shall lie through each and every vow they ask me to repeat and agree to, especially as I care for the groom least of all. Yet I still need him to be mine and mine alone.”

Another burst of maniacal cackling poured from his mouth. He’d purposefully requested that the palace guards be stationed at the end of the corridor rather than outside his room specifically for the purpose of keeping them in the dark. The entity knew that he’d not be able to contain himself, that he would need to talk to himself about it all, that he would not be able to hold back his laughter for long. Thankfully, he was able to quell it quickly once the sound of a door opening reached his ears.

It was time.

The entity was escorted through the palace, towards the wedding venue. He attempted to keep his expression as neutral as possible, but a small hint of pure confidence and victory did slip through into his eyes. It was especially hard to keep it together once he was with the wedding party, and when entering and walking up the aisle, and during the ceremony.

Everything was going perfectly. It was finally going to happen. He was going to win. The groom was going to be his.

“Prince Patton and Roman Shields, it is my pleasure to pronounce you-”

The large doors to the room slammed open and a long shadow was cast by the figure in the doorway, “STOP!”

The entity was surprised to see the groom’s brother standing in the doorway, finger accusingly pointed in his direction, his usual makeup smudged far more than usual and his long hair a mess of knots. In a moment of frustration, the gentle prince act was dropped as the entity complained about the brother’s possessive nature. He did manage to twist it into a crying act once a couple of the guests clearly seemed to overhear him.

“Why does he have to ruin my special day?” The entity falsely cried, pretending to wipe tears from his eyes.

“Because it’s not your special day. It’s mine!”

Gasps rippled around the room as a dishevelled Prince Patton now stood in the doorway, a fire behind his eyes that no one had ever seen before.

The entity was already prepared to reveal himself, but he had to at least attempt to continue his lie, though all the guest were quickly losing faith and beginning to believe the true prince had been replaced.

“How can there be two of the prince?!” One guest cried out in confusion.

Before the entity could even try to speak, the true prince cut him off, “He is a changeling! He takes the form of someone you love and then feeds off of all the love you have for that person, gaining more power from it!”

The room was turning hostile towards him. The entity knew his time with the disguise was up.

In a bright, exaggerated burst of yellow flames, he transformed fully back to his normal self, discarding the dress for his usual dark attire. Through the back of his caped shirt, two odd pairs of wings sprouted. Somehow they were able to hold his weight, despite the holes that were pierced right through the long, thin-looking appendages. More of the holes that littered his face appeared along other exposed parts of flesh, namely his hands, before he casually pulled gloves out to cover them.

His deep laugh cut through the horrified silence before he addressed the royal before him, “How right you are, my dear prince. And, as king of all changelings, it falls upon my shoulders to find food for all of my subjects and your kingdom harbours so much. We shall feed, devouring it all before you even have the chance to stop us!”

---

My other stuff: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/myworks Mobile Accessible Masterlist: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/post/181954641376/fic-masterlist

General Tag List: @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @didsomeonesayprince @llamaly @justanotherpurplebutterfly  @iaminmultiplefandoms @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @lowkeyvirgilobsessed @louisthewarlock @fangsandrainbows @xxladystarlightxx @sleepyssnail @ao-koshka @notalwaysthevillian @pumpkinminette @doces-e--tuga @coloursintheblur @safesandersides

[xxcrowfeatherxx]

Guys I need to tell you something

I read some fanfics lately with long hair people in it and lemme tell you : they got it wrong XD

I don't mean it in a mean way of course and everyone is different. Maybe they have long hair themselves and their hair is just better then mine. But I wanted to share some thing about my long hair with you. Maybe it helps someone.

First of all : I'm 174cm tall and my hair reaches beyond my ass so it's really long. It's also quite thick and I bleached and colored it multiple times, but keeping it somewhat alive with good products. So listen up now :

Brushing this monster straight out of hell is a task I recommend to do as many times as possible. Or else you get tangles in it. And I mean TANGLES AND KNOTS. Painful ones. The ones who make you look at a scissor for five minutes contemplating with yourself. I went on a short trip once and forgot my brush which is specifically for long hair. Bought a new normal brush and cried constantly for the whole weekend because PAIN. Those Long Hair Brushes have a bigger pad and most often are lined with horse (or some kind of other hard animal hair) to keep the hair from being electrified. It also hurts a lot less to brush your hair with it.

Hair being electrical is a fcking pain. You wearing a dress or some kind of other elastic/plastic related fabric? Your hair will stick to it like a child to candy. Letting your hair flow in the wind won't flow for long because it's gonna stick to your clothes. And it's not just the normal hair which does that. The loose hair which would normally fall to the ground unnoticed will now stick to your back. And let me tell you : It's not funny in public areas.

Getting dressed with long hair is a challenge if you need to close the item at the back. You're in a hurry to get somewhere and wanted to have open flowing hair? Be prepared to get the strands in the zipper 9/10 times. Pullover and sweaters electrify your hair being put on or pulled off. Remember that in sexy times.

Sleeping. With open hair. You will regret it in the morning because tangles. But maybe you had some sexy times or were just too tired to braid it the evening before, rest assured that your hair will remind you of that little failure. I had multiple occasions in the morning when I wanted to stand up and my head snapped back because half of my hair was under my body and I put my whole weight on it. It can also get tangled in all kind of things in the bed and I woke up drooling on it more than once.

Someone sleeps besides you while you have your hair open. So many people think that's sexy for your partner. It's not. They are the big spoon? Constant hair in their mouth and face. Or they lie on it and you wake up because your head is in an unnatural angle backwards.

Washing is a pain in itself and expensive too. First of all you need special products for long hair. I thought for a long time that the labels on the bottles like 'For colorised and damaged hair' etc is just there to make more money. But it actually isn't. I asked my hairdresser and they said that those labels are for real and you should buy those according to your type of hair. SOO buying long hair products. Shampoo, conditioner, hair mask and After Care Mask No Washing Out. And that's the minimum of products of what my hairdresser recommended. I'm an university student so I can't really afford the expensive Label Products, nor the oils my hairdresser uses. I recommend using coconut butter. It's cheap and if you use it once every month its totally enough. Back to washing : it takes a while. Like, A WHILE. Because smearing all these products in and rinsing them takes time and a lot of water. And the fun part comes after - > cleaning the drain. Getting all these juicy slick hairs out of it is a task I could gladly pass to someone else.

Brushing wet hair is so much fun. NOT. It hurts and when you think you're finished you see another tangled spot. The hair turns into gummy while being wet and I don't know why 'till this day. I don't blow it dry if I have the time. Let it air dry if you can and brush it then. Less hurting when the hair is somewhat dry. Also don't rub it dry with a towel. You get a Lions mane and again : tangles.

Sleeping with wet hair sounds nice, especially during hot summer nights. But I wake up most of the time with a headache if I go to bed with wet hair. I don't know why but I met many people who have the same issue. I think it's about the head cooling off too much but I'm no professional in that regard.

Braiding long hair is awesome. You can make all different kind of styles and so many interesting ideas can be done. If someone else does it that is. You doing that yourself looks nice in the Youtube Videos doesn't it? Lemme tell you something about that. It takes time and practise. A LOT. And your arms start to hurt especially if the style is mainly on the back of your head. It's easier to let someone else do it if you can. I've done my fair share of these styles just to be sad at the end because it was loose, falling apart or looked kinda wrong. Other people can help in that regard. Ask them nicely. I met a lot of people and friends who love to play and braid other people's hair.

And because I'm already there : other people LOVE long hair. Many of them at least. I met a lot of people who grab your hair or stroke it without asking you beforehand. I had a teacher in my last school year who grabed and played with my hair every time she saw me. She was a really nice granny so I didn't mind it. But strangers do that too sometimes and it can get annoying.

Sitting in a Café or somewhere similar is nice, as long as the don't have furniture with nails or metal clamps. Long hair loves to get trapped in those and when you want to get up it's a painful surprise.

Windy locations are a hassle. Your hair will whip around like crazy, smacking not only into your face but your partners /friends as well. Braiding helps or some sort of hat if you don't want to brush the hair for hours afterwards. Windy locations can be in cities because of the tall buildings and beaches. There are a lot of these locations you wouldn't think of before.

Salt or chlorine water is my personal enemy. They make the hair dry and its close to impossible to brush it afterwards without you washing if beforehand. Try to wash long hair as soon as you come out of the water and don't plan to go in again.

Hats. They're nice, look nice and keep your head warm. They're also most often not made for long and heavy hair. They either can't hold the weight or they fall off because they don't get a grip.

Last but not least : hairbands. Don't use the ones with metal, they destroy the hair because of the sharp edges. And those cool looking rings of gummy plastic? They get tangles in long hair like crazy, trust me I tried it. The best hairbands are made out of cloth like material and don't bend too much.

I hope I could help you a bit with this. It's different for many people of course. Hair is hugely different regarding your Gens, your living place, how much stress you have and what you did with your hair. Do you color it often or not at all? Do you straighten it with heat or do you completely leave those things alone? There are many factors, but I met some long haired people along the way who started laughing in agreement to many of the things above. I am growing my hair since I am a kid. First because my Mom wanted me to have long hair and later because I started to love it. Maybe I would be happier with short hair who knows. But when I walk outside and complete strangers greet me and are awwing because they like my hair, it puts a small smile on my face.

Hopefully this little something can help you in some way :D

[deusaeverythingcomestoanend]

D. Series: The Pirate

Chapter 22

He drinks blood

It is too late,

To change your fate,

They are doomed to be a meal,

So you will have to deal.

The following day after the wedding it became apparent nothing happened between the two of them. Lady Rebecca left with only one small suitcase of personal items. Half of those items would later be returned to the Estate. 

Godiva was allowed to help Lady Rebecca prepare for her trip. Clement on the other hand was forced to stay as far away from his daughter as possible. The Drataines knew that if he got too close to Lady Rebecca it would raise suspicions from Lord Alfric’s guests. Suspicion they did not wish to provoke if they wanted everything to go as planned. Victory had become their sacrificial lamb. Though it wasn’t as if she was in any sort of danger. She had been married to a man who was four years her senior. Sir Dicun was a rather odd man to begin with. A rumor spread throughout the Estate saying Sir Dicun viewed Lady Rebecca as a child and not his fiancee. Which was understandable to Cronus afterall his sister was still a child.   

The only one who seemed to have any issues with Lady Rebecca and Sir Dicun’s lack of sex life was Lord Alfric. He desperately wanted them to produce an heir as soon as possible. Going as far as saying he would beat an erection out of Sir Dicun if he had to. Thankfully everyone of the Bannister household was no longer present. If they had been to witness such a crude behavior they would have more than likely had the marriage annulled. Which would have gone swiftly considering Sir Dicun had refused to lie with Lady Rebecca.  Cronus sensed that if they returned her his family would be in more peril than they currently were. 

Cronus tried not to be concerned about it too much, he had other things to worry about. He had to go and check with the other Blacksmiths. They were each producing their own pistols and he had to supervise their product. Damn, how he wanted to go and rest just for another hour. Why couldn't he just be a normal child? Why was he cursed in this knowledge? Why did it have to b-

"AAAHHHH!"

Cronus felt his own blood run cold. Yesterday he was sure that he had heard the faint cry of an infant, now it seemed to be that of a woman. He ran towards the source of the scream and stopped dead in his tracks. They had come from one of the wooden doors that lead down into the dungeons. He could hear his own heartbeat ringing in his ears. There was a faint scent of blood coming from within one of the rooms.

"NOT MY CHILDREN! YOU BASTARDS!"

Cronus' eyes widened in shock. He recognized that voice. He could recognize it anywhere. That was the voice of his Uncle Faber. It had to be, there was no mistaking it. He wanted to help them, but what could an eleven year old even hope to accomplish. He moved his hand over the handle and removed his hand in disgust. He stared down at his own hand which was now covered in a dark red liquid. He brought it close to his nostrils and took a whiff. It wasn't wet paint as Cronus had hoped, but blood.

Cronus ran towards the stables. He prepared one of the horses that was mainly used for pulling carriages. He wanted to make sure. He raced towards his hometown. He needed to make sure that they were still there. They had to be. He raced towards the top of a hill and from there he would be able to see the town. What he saw was the last thing he wanted.

The town looked empty. There wasn't a single person outside. He wanted to get closer but stopped himself. Cronus knew he was already in trouble for having taken one of the horses without permission. He raced back to the stables and left the horse inside. He ran to his room and paced the floor to try and calm himself down.

'He took them! Alfric took the Townspeople!' panicked Cronus as he continued to pace his room. 'Wait, why aren't me and my family also in the dungeons?'

Cronus stopped his pacing and sunk to the cold cement floor. What made the Drataines so special? Special enough, that Alfric would have Victory replace his own daughter. The first time they met, Alfric's only intention was to have Victory kidnapped. He even ordered his men to kill whoever got in their way. What changed?

"I killed one of his men... with something only I could make," realized Cronus his eyes widening in shock. "That is why... he took us. As long as he has a need... for me my parents are safe."

Cronus jumped up from the ground. He stormed over to his parent's quarters and banged on their door. They had to get out of there! They needed to get out of there! Godiva took her time in opening the door. Cronus slipped inside and pulled the door shut.

"Cronus, you are as pale as a ghost. Is there something upsetting you?" worried Godiva placing her hands on his shoulders.

"You... are not safe here," Cronus broke down and wrapped his arms around his mother.

"We know," sighed Godiva returning the hug, "but we cannot leave just yet."

"Why not? You have... to leave," sobbed Cronus looking up at his mother.

"Cronus, how many of your weapons have been made?" questioned Clement staring down at him.

"I don't... around twenty, why is this important?" asked Cronus, releasing his mother.

"How many did he ask for?" questioned Clement stepping closer.

"Thirty, but why does that matter?" inquired Cronus feeling rather agitated.

"If we are to leave now, and steal some of the horses. With those weapons we will not get very far," reasoned Clement placing his hands on Cronus shoulders, "even if by some miracle we managed to escape. You are too valuable for him to lose. He would hunt us down to the ends of the world just to get you back."

"Father, he has the townspeople," revealed Cronus biting the inner corners of his mouth.

"How can you be so sure?" demand Clement with fear in his eyes.

"I thought I heard Uncle Faber's scream coming from within one of the dungeons," explained Cronus, "I thought it was just my imagination so I raced towards the stables, and took one of the horses to the top of the hill. You know the one where you can see our home town from. It's empty, there is no one. It seems to have been empty for a very long time. Please, let's just g-"

Bang! Bang! The sudden knocking on the door startled Cronus. He glanced over to his mother. His eyes begging her not to open the door.

"I am sorry, Cronus, I have to," whispered Godiva as she made her way to answer it.

"Go hide under the bed," ordered Clement pushing him back.

"I-"

"Do not argue with me... only do as I say," whispered Clement. Cronus paused for a few seconds before crawling towards the bottom of the bed. He pulled the bed sheets aside and placed them back into place. He could sense his mother opening the door.

"Brutus, does Lord Alfric wish to see us again?" asked Godiva.

Cronus strained his neck forwards and began to breath from his mouth. He did not understand why, but there was something about Brutus that just did not seem right. It was almost as if he wasn't even human. He wasn't a witch, nor a devil worshipper. Brutus was something far worse and Cronus could sense it now.

"I will," complied Godiva doing her best to smile.

Cronus heard the door close behind both Brutus being lead away by Clement. Cronus froze, not daring to move from hiding place. He got a sense that Brutus could return at any moment.

"Ah!" wailed little Ethon from his small crib. He was letting his mother know that he wished to be taken out. Ethon cried only when he wanted something. It all depended on what it was at that given moment. Godiva had figured out what each and every cry meant.

"I see you are awake, Ethon," called Godiva making her way to a fuzzy Ethon, "here I thought, you were going to sleep a little longer."

"Wah," snickered Ethon blowing raspberries at Godiva.

"Are you making fun of your mother, Ethon?" scolded Godiva in a laughing manner. She then picked up Ethon and gently spanked his bottom.

"Did you learn your lesson?" teased Godiva bringing him up to her face. Ethon only laughed in response and covered his lower chin with drool.

"I see, you are just like your father. You think all you need to do is smile and I won't be mad anymore. Well, that is too bad, I am still upset," lied Godiva puffing up her cheeks and turning her head away.

"Wuh," argued Ethon reaching his hand to his mother.

"I am only joking, Ethon," smiled Godiva kissing Ethon's cheek, "you can come out now, Cronus."

Cronus crawled out from under the bed. Ethon's eyes grew in surprise but he quickly reached his hands towards his older brother. He seemed to kick his mother for her to release him. He reached as far as he could in order to win over Cronus' attention.

"Do you want your big brother to hold you? Is that what you want, Ethon?" asked Godiva handing him over to Cronus.

Cronus sat down on the bed with Ethon in his lap. It was hard to believe that he was related to Lord Alfric. Cronus did not understand how someone so charming could have come from someone so vile. He combed Ethon's hair to the side. He looked into Ethon's teal round eyes. Cronus tried to search for any source of evil in this child, but found none. How could he? Ethon was as harmful as a rose petal.

"Mom, how come you and Dad never rush into things? Is it because you are afraid?" inquired Cronus his focus on Ethon's babbling.

"Us afraid?" laughed Godiva hugging her stomach, "no, Cronus your father and I are never afraid. The reason we don't rush into things as you said. It's quite simple we are not stupid. We calculate the risk, if the end goal outweighs the risk then we do it. If not then we wait and keep our mouths shut. We are Dragons after all. You should go now, see what Alfric wants. Keep on manipulating him as long as you can."

Cronus handed back baby Ethon and left the room. His mother was right, now was not the time to run away. As long as he kept Alfric under his thumb things would be alright. It wasn't his job to save everyone, but he could save a few, then that would be more than enough. He paused to get a quick view from outside one of the windows. He looked over at the horizon and imagined what it would be like just be a kid. Wait, he was a kid.

"Cronus, there you are," called Clement walking down the hallway followed by a rather annoyed looking Brutus.

"Father, have you been searching for me?" asked Cronus pretending not to know they had been looking for him.

"No, not me," responded Clement pointing his thumb towards Brutus.

"Lord Alfric, has something he wishes to discuss with you," stated Brutus crossing his arms.

"Why are you so tense? You should try and loosen yourself up," teased Clement patting Brutus' back.

"I prefer not to," groaned Brutus pulling away from Clement's reach, "now, come along. Lord Alfric is a very impatient man."

Cronus followed behind Brutus but being alone with that man made him feel uneasy. He could still hear his own blood pumping in his ears. The way Brutus sometimes looked at people did not seem right. It was as if everyone was food to that strange man. It wasn't long before both Cronus and Brutus were standing in front of the door leading into Alfric's office. Brutus opened it allowing Alfric to walk inside.

"So glad to finally have you here," seethed Alfric rushing over to Cronus.

"Is there anything you wish from me, my Lord," bowed Cronus trying not to show any sign of fear.

"Where have you been?" demanded Alfric his face red with furry.

"My quarters, I needed a moment to ponder things over," reasoned Cronus keeping his head down.

"I see," calmed Alfric backing away, "I forget that you are still a child. Your mind may be able to create such magnificent objects, despite all of that, you are still a kid."

"I am sorry," wondered Cronus facing Alfric.

"Kids usually perform better if there's a reward, isn't that right?" rhetorically asked Alfric a grin forming on his lips.

"I have no idea w-"

"Finish making my weapons before spring, and your family is free to leave," shrugged Alfric.

"Wha-"

"I said, 'Finish making my weapons before spring, and your family is free to leave,'" repeated Alfric, "you better hurry. After all, you don't have all year."

A fire fueled by determination filled Cronus' eyes. He could finish making the remaining pistols all in less than two weeks. At the same time he could work on his God's Armor. For the next few weeks Cronus would over work himself to try and finish his project. When his body protested and demanded for him to rest. He pushed those basic human needs aside for a few minutes longer. On February 12, 1546 Cronus passed out of fatigue in his bed. He felt himself sinking deeper into the soft blankets. Tomorrow he would inform Alfric that he had completed his task.

"We can leave," sighed Cronus in relief as he allowed sleep to consume his mind. He dreamed that he was once again in his home eating his mother's cooking. He laughed when his parents teased his sister about finding her a spouse. Victory turned a dark shade of red and covered her face with her hands. Then he saw the world around him begin to turn pitch black.

Slowly one by one, his family began to vanish. They reappeared and their faces seemed to be covered by a thin fog. When Cronus reached up a hand to try and touch them the fog seemed to only get worse. Bang! Bang!

Cronus heard two distinct pistol shots before he saw his parents pass out next to him. Pools of blood began to form around them. He tried to shake them awake but he fell past them. He could feel himself sinking deeper into the abyss. It felt like he was drowning in murky water, he panicked as he fought to reach the surface.

Cronus jolted up in the safety of his own bed. He was covered in cold sweat, he tried to take in some deep breaths to try and relax. Water, his throat called out for a quick drink. He looked around the darkness in his bedroom and sighed. He slipped on his nightgown and slippers before walking over to the water pitcher in his room. He filled up his cup bringing his heartbeat back to normal.

He was about to crawl back to bed when he noticed that his own room was being consumed in flames. The fire seemed to dance and sway in a manner that made him believe that it was alive. He brought a hand to the hot flames, surprised to feel nothing but cold air. He waited for the vision to fade away. He watched as the flames consumed his room leaving nothing but black smoke behind. It did not stop nor did it seem as if anyone was bothered by it. Almost as if there was no one even there to begin with.

Once the flames were finished consuming the estate everything went back to normal. He pulled the covers of his bed aside and was about to go back to sleep.

"Help!" begged the sound of a woman. Tutt tutt tutt! Cronus heard the running footsteps of someone. Cronus made his way to his door and opened it only a crack. There in the dark hallway he saw a terrified woman rushing towards him. He recognized her as having been one of the nuns that worked in the cathedral of his home town. He wanted to open his door, but what he witnessed made him think otherwise.

It happened so quickly, he backed away and fell down. He saw Brutus appear out of nowhere. He watched as Brutus pulled the woman back into his arms by her hair. He yanked her head back forcing her neck to come forward. Then he sunk his fangs into her neck and began to drain her of her blood. The woman struggled at first to get him off, but as soon as his teeth broke her skin she had no hopes of survival.

Previous Chapter:

https://deusaeverythingcomestoanend.tumblr.com/post/617872284924985344/d-series-the-pirate

Next Chapter:

https://deusaeverythingcomestoanend.tumblr.com/post/618061108847263744/d-series-the-pirate

[lotustories]

Sincerely, Yours.

Lie To Me Sequel

Pairing: Yoongi x F. Reader (maybe others)

Type: angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol use, and vulgar language

Chapter navigation

Chapter 4

The constant shouting from the kitchen woke you up, the boys arguing over something you couldn’t quite hear. You slipped your slippers on and made your way to the kitchen to investigate what they were yelling about. “Stop fucking screaming.” You groaned, rubbing your temples at the headache developing . You saw jungkook freezing at the sound of your voice, his body tensing. “Yoongi wants to go out of town this Friday, it’s game night.” Taehyung argued, your eyes looking at them both and back to seokjin who seemed over the whole thing. “yn hasnt been at a game night in over a year, why is it a problem now.” Yoongi snapped. “Because it’s different and you know that.” Namjoon spoke softly. “Jess wants to go—“ you rolled your eyes as you went to grab coffee for yourself. Yoongi seeing your reaction making him stop to speak to you. “What the fuck was that for yn?” He spoke, eyebrows furrowed. “What was what?” You answered back, your eyes focused on the coffee you were pouring. “You rolled your eyes before I could even say where I was going.” He waited for your answer, “nothing, I just know better than to try and stop one of you from leaving us for your girlfriends.” Your eyes met him and he looked down, remembering the whole fight with hoseok. “If you had a boyfriend you wouldn’t leave him for us?” Yoongi tried to make a point but none of the boys cared for it. “If I ever had to chose between any of you and a man, I’d always chose you guys.” You retorted, Yoongi waving away your response. “You don’t understand, you don’t have anyone to compare this to.” He whispered, your heart clenched slightly but you remained emotionless. “I got into the university yn is at.” Taehyung said with a sad expression. “I was going to tell everyone Friday, but Yoongi won’t be there so might as well say it now.” He shrugged as if the news was unimportant. “That’s amazing, taehyung I told you that your art was good enough!” You hugged him and he held you back. “Don’t do that, don’t make me feel like shit. Jess loves you all, but I want to do something special for her birthday.” Yoongi pouted. “I love her, she deserves that.” You were cutting strawberries and when you heard those words slip from his mouth you accidentally cut your finger. “Fuck.” You cried, seokjin cursing after you as he grabbed the nearest rag to cover your finger. “Are you okay?” Jungkook jumped up, his arm wrapping around your waist from behind to take you to the bathroom. you sat on the toilet while jungkook grabbed the first aid kit to wrap your wound. His hands holding yours gently. “Does it hurt? I don’t think you need stitches.” He whispered as he pressed the cotton ball against the cut. “It hurts, but I’ll live.” You stared up at him, his big doe eyes so focused on your finger. “You still love him, don’t you?” Jungkook didn’t meet your eyes, his finger wrapping the bandage around your wound gently. “I feel like we had different meanings for a break.” You answered and he smiled and closed his eyes while he spoke. “Please don’t use me.” He kept his eyes closed as he exhaled. His hands still on yours, your eyes immediately widening slightly and you lifted yourself up to stand with him. Cupping his face as you made him look at you. “Baby, I would never.” Your hands still cupping his face as he pouted slightly. “Last night, i acted on my impulses and i am sorry if I made you think that i would use you against him.” Your thumb caressing his cheek. “It feels wrong for me, I don’t know if it’s because you dated him or if I’m scared to let myself like you. ” He paused “I just feel bad.” You nodded and smiled at him. “Then I will behave. I haven’t been with anyone since him, you were there and I trust you so I acted, I’m sorry.” You removed your hands from his face and looked at him fondly. “You’re going to make someone very happy one day, you were raised perfectly. I hope you know that ggukie, don’t be afraid to love.” You swiped your fingers underneath his chin. “do not do anything you don’t want to do.” He stared for a moment and have a slight nod. “Thank you.” He smiled at you.

When you walked back to the kitchen seokjin raised his eyebrows, “it took that long to put a bandaid on?” He teases and you shrugged. “We had a very nice talk.” You retorted and he laughed. “Oh really about what?” You walked past him to grab your coffee again. “no more sucking his dick.” You said as if it was normal. A collective sounds of choking on drinks sounding the room. “Yn!” Jungkook shocked at your bluntness. “okay, rewind. Explain?” Hoseok laughed as he looked between the two of you. “You gave him head?” Yoongi asked his voice strained slightly. you looked at him for a moment and then the rest of the boys who stared at you in shock. Poor jungkook eating his food while his cheeks burned a red. You rolled your eyes and sighed. “unimportant now.” You waved them off but they just turned to jungkook. “Explain.” They pushed and he pulled his lip between his teeth as he sighed. “It was when we were watching the movie.” Hoseoks head snapping back to you. “in front of us!” He laughed “technically behind you.” You joked and he snorted. “I already apologized to him, I didn’t mean to use him.” You said ashamed and he smiled. “use me.” Hoseok leaned over, smirking as you glared him down. “I’m still confused.” Seokjin shook his head. “About?” Namjoon answered. “yn sucked Jungkook’s dick, how is that confusing.” They were all too comfortable with each other, poor jungkook looked like he was gonna burst from embarrassment. “but why?” Seokjin added. “Oh my god, because i was horny and jungkook got hot. I would rather fuck him than some random from a club.” You defended yourself and he nodded. “fair enough.” Yoongi laughed a little too loudly, your head snapped to him and you could tell he was pissed. “What?” You glared. “Nothing, just think this is funny.” He shrugged, his asshole persona shining through. “what is?” You were confused, he ran his tongue along his cheek and shrugged. “just that you have no respect for yourself or me to fuck someone not in this house.” You we’re taken back by his comment. He walked off before you could answer but even if he hadn’t, you didn’t have anything to say. “hey, don’t listen to him.” Jungkook spoke up. “You are not the bad guy here.” He had such a sad look in his eyes. “lets go to the farmers market today, I know you love picking their flowers.” Hoseok reached over to hold your hand but you pulled away. “That sounds fun, let me get ready.” You have a half smile and headed to seokjin’s room. You were about to pass the bathroom but Yoongi came out first, standing in front of you half naked as you tried to move past him without saying a word. He grabbed your hand to stop you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” He apologized but you pulled your hand away. “It’s fine.” You refused to look at him, pushing past him quickly to get to seokjins room. maybe staying with them wasn’t the best idea anymore. You put on one of your dresses and pinned your hair back. Taehyung, jungkook, hoseok, and Jimin all ready and waiting for you on the couch. “Oh, all of us?” You questioned as they gave a sigh of relief to see you finally done getting ready. “Where is everyone going?” Yoongi appeared behind you, you moved away quickly and he noticed. His face falling a bit. “Farmers market, yn likes their flowers and funnel cake.” Jungkook chirped. “am I invited?” He asked, Jungkook’s eyes going to you for an answer. “I don’t care,” you shrugged, heading for the door first to get into the car. You sat in the backseat, as hoseok entered to your left and Yoongi on your right. Fiddling with the hem of your dress you waited for everyone to get in. “You look beautiful today.” Hoseok whispered in your ear, your eyes staring at his mouth for a moment before thanking him for his compliment. The farmers market wasn’t far from where you guys lived, it was a short drive, hell you could’ve walked there. You walked down the path with hoseok, resisting the urge to stop at every table.

An hour later, an hour of walking and spending money you shouldn’t have, hoseok had disappeared from you for a moment only to return with a mini sunflower. Your favorite flower. “Young lady, would you like to be painted with your boyfriend?” An elderly lady stopped you, her paintbrush in hands as she stared you down with soft eyes. “Yes, we would.” Hoseok answered before you could correct her, she smiled happily as she led you to the chair. There was only one seat, it was why she picked you two. Hoseok sat down first and pulled you on top of his lap, his hand around you waist as he adjusted you to smile at the elderly women. “Look at each other, please.” She motioned her hands, and you obeyed. Looking down at hoseok as he looked up, something in those romance movies where they feel like nobody else in the world could see them. “How long will this take?” You called out, not moving your eyes from hoseok. “Just hold on dear,” her sing song voice echoed as he smiled up at you. “You seem awfully happy.” You joked, you could feel him getting slightly hard underneath you. “The most beautiful girl in the world on my lap and a nice lady painting me and my ‘girlfriend’” he paused. “I couldn’t be happier.” You can’t quiet remember how long it took, but it was worth it. The painting was beautiful and almost as if it was painted by a famous painter. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful.” You pointed at the photo, careful not to touch any part of it. “She put the sunflowers in our hair.” You pouted, you each had a sunflower on your head. One of the most beautiful paintings you had ever seen. “I’ll ship it to you when you go back to school.” He frowned and then you realized that in a couple of months, you will be gone. Leaving once again, this time with taehyung, but it felt devastating. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He wiped away the small tear you hadn’t realized fell. “I don’t want to go back,” You cried softly. “But I also don’t want to stay.” You hiccuped. Choking on your soft cries as you tried not to draw attention. You could see the boy noticing from a few steps away causing them to walk over. “but taehyung is going and i can’t leave him.” You wiped away the tears angrily. “Hey,” he cupped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to go back, you don’t have to stay here either.” His tone very stern. “You Can live your life, if you want to travel, then travel. This is your life.” He smiles while his thumbs wiped away any tears that fell. “you say how it plays out.” His hands pulled you toward him, his lips pressing to your forehead and then he pulled you into the tightest hug you had in a while. “You okay?” Yoongi stood next to you now, you only gave a small nod before you walked back to the car.

It soon grew dark, seokjin and Namjoon had decided to start a fire in the backyard. Seokjin grilling who knows what and Namjoon drunkenly singing while seated on the pool chair. “We brought veggies if you wanna grill those too?” Jungkook held the bag up and seokjin gave a nod, the youngest running off to the kitchen wash them. “hi guys!” Jess’ voice caused everyone to turn their heads to the living room. She walked over to you, embracing you in the longest hug ever. You hadn’t realized your necklace had gotten caught until she stop mid pull, squealing as her necklace hung to yours. “Ow!” She cried, Yoongi trying to help you both out but the necklaces wouldn’t unlatch. “just break them!” She pulled on hers but it still wouldn’t budge. “No! Do not break mine.” You motioned at the air. “Just unhook mine from the back.” You lifted your hair up and yoongi went to unhook it. His fingertips trailing along the back of your neck while he tried to open the latch. “I’ll try to untangle them.” He said once it was off you, when you noticed his eyes on Jess, you realized he wasn’t talking to you. “I’m going to change.” You whispered before walking away. Changing into something more comfortable, you walked back to the kitchen where Jess sat on top of yoongi. Everyone’s eyes on Namjoon as he told a story. “it was that time yn and yo-“ You cut him off as he nearly exposed your past with yoongi. “your friend Matthew, hoseok. Remember?” You pleaded for him to back you up and he did. Namjoon looking at you both confused but gave a small laugh before continuing his story. “I miss this, i miss everyone together.” Namjoon didn’t even finish his story, he had been blabbering for minutes now but you all let him. The boys somewhat dispersed from the kitchen into the living room or backyard. You were making yourself a drink and hadn’t even realized it was only you, yoongi, and Jess. “I’m going to change. I’ll be back baby.” You could hear her kiss him as you squeezed the lemon into your drink. “Here,” he slid your necklace to you. You had forgotten about it. Slight panic going through you. “You didn’t open it did you?” You asked and he just stared back, shaking his head. “No.” He watched you put it around your neck and gave a soft smile. This was probably the first time you both looked into each other’s eyes in a while. You gave a short nod before going past him, his hand catching your arm making you spill your drink slightly. “Why do you wear it still?” He asked, your eyes staring at him in slight shock. He looked at it. “it doesn’t matter.” You shrugged, his hand never letting go. “You didn’t want me to break it either.” He added, “yoongi it doesn’t matter anymore.” You pulled your arm back but he only held tighter. “Then why wear it?” He was slightly drunk, you could smell it on his breath. “baby, i have to go. my sister and her boyfriend got in a fight.” Jess entered, Yoongi let go and you walked off to the living room, plopping yourself next to hoseok as they watched tv. At some point everyone fell asleep and you wandered off to bed, taking your bra off and pulling the covers off the bed you didn’t even hear the door open and close until you were about to lie down. “Jesus fucking Christ.” You jumped, Yoongi standing at the doorway silently. “You scared the shit out of me.” You furrowed your brows, Yoongi walked closer, slowly. Careful to not scare you. “Why do you wear it?” He asked again. You sighed and rolled your eyes at him. “It doesn’t matter. Go away I’m tired.” You walked toward the door to push him out. “Answer that and I will.” He stood his ground, too strong to push out. “no, now go.” You kept pushing, but still no luck. He kept asking and asking until you snapped. Your voice a low tone, careful not to wake anyone. “Because It’s all I have of you!” He stared at you silently. “How long have you had that?” He asked and you decided to cooperate.

He leaned his back against the door. “you wore a locket of us for an entire year?” He laughed lightly. “What did your boyfriends think of it?” He joked, but you didn’t take it as one. “I didn’t have boyfriends.” Your tone was mean now. You didn’t want to talk about any of this. “wait, what?” His head snapped up, shocked by your answer. “Not one?” And you shook your head, ashamed of the way he was looking at you. “why not?” He added and you rolled your eyes. “I’m not in the mood to talk about this with you, please just leave.” You pushed at him softly, but he grabbed your hand. “did you really wait?” He paused, “like your friend said over the phone.” He whispered. You could feel the tears rising up and you didn’t want him to see. “Yoongi, get out.” You repeated. “we need to talk about this.” He defended and your laugh startled him. “You’re fucking kidding right?” You scoffed, he shook his head but you only grew angrier. “I have been here two fucking months, I have been ignored, I have been hidden from your girlfriend, and you see that i wear a necklace with us inside and now you want to talk.” You shook your head. “get the fuck out.” His eyes turning sad. “Im not trying to fight or upset you.” He stepped forward. “fuck you, fuck your pity,” your hand reached up to the necklace and you ripped it off. “And fuck this necklace.” You started walking to the bathroom and he knew what you were going to do. “Don’t!” He yelled quietly. Grabbing it from your hands as he held it away. “We both don’t like dealing with our feelings, you of all people should understand why I didn’t want to talk about this.” you shrugged. “I didn’t expect anything when I came back. I waited because I never stopped loving you. I’m glad you’re happy, now we have nothing else to talk about.” You calmed down. Yoongi frowning at you wiping away your tears. “give me back my necklace.” You stick your hand out but he refused. “So you can flush it? No.” He stuck it in his pocket and you grew angry again. “Who cares what happens to it, just give it.” He stepped to you. “Why are you so fucking angry, I’m trying to be a good person and talk to you and you’re acting like a fucking child.” He snapped, “I’m not hoseok. You’re not going to be an asshole to me because you don’t want to deal with your fucking feelings.” He snarled, his inches away from yours. “Just go find your fucking girlfriend and give me my necklace.” You fired back, his eyes growing angry. “Go fuck one of the guys.” He fired back. A small gasp leaving your lips “Fuck you!” Yoongi catching your hands before you could push him. “Fuck you!” He snarled, his hands around your wrist tightly. Your faces inches from each other. This fight was no longer about talking. You both could feel the tension, your chests rising up and down as your faces were inches apart. but you were saved by the bell. Yoongi’s phone ran and he let go of your hands to answer. You could hear her voice ring through the other end. Before you knew it he was gone and you were left dealing with feelings you didn’t want to deal with.

Two more months. You just need to make it through that.

[wolfpawn]

Life is a Game of Risks, Chapter 10

Chapter Summary -  Tom and Alexianna meet after their on phone discussion and talk more.

TRIGGERS - Past domestic abuse, Past emotional abuse, Past sexual abuse.

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Tags: @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1

Tom smiled brightly when he saw Alexianna walking towards him. 'Hello.'

'Hi,' she toyed with some of her hair anxiously. 'How was your mum's?'

'It was wonderful, everyone was asking for you.'

'Emma texted me.' Tom smiled at her expectantly. 'She wants to catch up.'

'Are you okay with that?'

'Yes, I am, I just...I don't know how I will deal with the Jonathon thing.'

'You should be honest.'

'Oh, I will be, I just don't know how she will react and I hate the pity.'

'You don't need pity.' Tom agreed, 'Just tell her, before you mention anything that you don't want pity or other comments, that you just want to tell her and to leave it at that.'

'And Lily?'

'She's your daughter, he may have given her some genetics, but she is not his, she is yours.'

'I don't regret her. I regret him, terribly, but not her.'

I would hope not, she's your daughter.' Tom smiled. 'She looks like you actually.'

'She has blonde curly hair.' She held out some of her own brown hair.

'That's not everything, she has your eyes, your smile.'

'She has paler skin than I am.'

'She's a little English rose. With pale skin, Lily is a perfect name. Though I have to say, people associate lilies with death.'

'I named her after my nan.'

'Oh, I recall, she died when you were about...ten, was it?'

'Eleven, so yeah, about then. It drove Marie mad, she always hated Lily.'

'Anything would drive her mad, that's not a feat.' Alexi laughed. 'Where is she now?'

'Daniel has her, he is going to Scotland again tonight, so he is bringing her to the cinema before he leaves.'

'What will you do for a childminder then?'

'I will have to study more at home, obviously, so less coffee shops, but I'll have to bring her with me once a week to get all the downloading done for my coursework.'

'What about cleaning?'

'I will bring her to the houses. She just sits and plays on my phone or colours. I keep a few DVD's ready to occupy her too.'

'You're incredible.'

'I am trying, nothing more.' She dismissed.

'You are doing an incredible job, Lexi.' He opened the door of the coffee shop. They ordered, Tom insisted on paying and sat in a quiet corner. 'I know you probably don't want to rush into her and I meeting properly, but I got her something, I hope you don't mind.'

'Tom, you don't need too.' Alexianna scolded.

'Please, my niece Sophie, she loves hers so I thought it would be nice, I noticed she has everything in this at your place.' He help out the bag he had been holding. Alexianna took it and glanced inside. 'She's a Paw Patrol fan, right?'

'Fanatic is the only word for it, my head is wrecked with it, thank you, you are too kind.' She smiled, looking at the backpack. 'She is going to want that for school.'

'She is starting in September?'

'Stop, she is growing up too fast. She is going to the one just up the hill from us, I was so happy she got there, it's close and it's good.'

'You moved there specifically, didn't you?'

Alexianna shrugged. 'You have to live in certain areas to get into certain schools.'

'Good move.'

'She'll get a good education there. I mean, it's not what I had, but a normal school in a good area is everything she needs.'

'What is she like? Lily?'

Alexianna gave a small smile. 'She is a good child, honestly, she has been since the start. Happy, energetic, bossy and strong willed.' She smiled fondly as she spoke of her daughter. 'She is perfect.' Tom grinned at her expression. 'She was shy with you there, but she is actually that clingy.'

'She loves her mum, you do everything for her and she knows it.' Tom smiled. 'So she never asks...' Alexianna shook her head. 'Surely she has noticed though.'

'I think she has, but she just says nothing. I really don't know what I'll say when she asks about him. How do you tell a little girl her father didn't want her? But I don't want to lie to her either.'

'I honestly don't know.' He took her hands in his, 'But you are so strong, no matter how you approach it, you will still be the sort of mum she needs.'

'Of course, she is my world.' She bit her lip for a moment. A habit that Tom was starting to realise she had. 'When I realised I was pregnant, I cried. I felt so guilty, I didn't want a baby, I felt as though...'

'He could control you more?' Tom assumed, Alexianna nodded.

'He was happy, so much so it weirded me out. He was rarely happy with anything. I thought maybe this was a new him, that he was going to be nice again. When they said it was a boy, he became even nicer, buying all sorts of toys and clothing, soccer jerseys and everything. I was excited to meet "George" in the end, but when George was actually Lily, I realised he was far worse than I ever imagined. He changed the locks and said my stuff was at a Travelodge. He kept everything he got for the baby. I have no idea what he even did with it, but I don't care. Daniel came, helped me out, spent a fortune on Lily and has spoiled her rotten since. I think that's probably why she never asked; she hears what a dad does and thinks Daniel is enough in that role.'

'It is highly possible. I adore spoiling Sophie, if Yakov ever abandoned her and Sarah, I would be there in a heartbeat for them.'

'Yakov?'

'Sarah's husband.'

'Ah.'

'Yes, I just...I cannot believe that your husband...'

'Ex-husband.'

'Yes, that he would do that. I see Yakov with Sophie, my friends with their daughters, I just cannot understand how the hell the gender matters.'

'If you ever figure it out, please, let me know, because I can't understand it either.' Alexianna shrugged. 'It doesn't matter, because even though I didn't realise it at the time, Lily saved me.' he frowned. 'I wasn't strong enough to leave, she got him to and in doing so, stopped me from doing something terrible. She stopped me from staying. You said how lilies are associated with death, to me, it's the exact opposite.'

'She is incredibly lucky to have a mum like you.' Tom smiled. 'And Marie...'

'She sided with him, of course. It was my fault, it's not that hard to just have a boy.' Tom's brows rose. 'Yeah, as though we get a choice.'

'Boys aren't worth the trouble.' he shook his head. 'Look at me.'

'You had your rough patches, but I doubt your mother would ever say you turned out badly.'

'Not to my face maybe, I gave her enough heartache, I still do from time to time.' Tom sighed. 'We all make mistakes.'

'Who are you telling?' Alexianna laughed.

'I hope you that you feel after a while that I can meet Lily, properly I mean. I know that sometimes it is best to feel things out before doing anything like that.' he tried to not feel like he was pressurizing her.

'I hope so too. I think she would like you.'

'I love her assessment of Hook by the way, about him pretending to be nice makes him all the meaner, she is very astute.'

'You have no idea.' Alexianna laughed. 'If I'm honest, I am half worried about getting her ready to meet you, I am also worried about getting you ready to meet her. You cannot BS her or anything, she is just so smart, she notices tiny little things you never will and she will not forgive you if you lie to her.'

'That's fair enough. I want this to go well, I know she is your paramount concern, if she's not happy, this can't work.'

'So you still want this?'

'Yes, I do. Do you?'

Alexianna paused for a moment before nodding. 'Yes, I do.' her smile was faint but it was honest. 'I got a taxi yesterday.'

'You are so strong and amazing.' she blushed. 'How did it go?'

'I think I had two panic attacks, he must have realised I was insane because he said nothing to me.'

'Well good, not the panic attacks, but the fact you took it, it means you are getting more confident.'

'It's your doing. He wasn't as calm a driver as you are though.'

'I am something special.' Tom winked and laughed.

An hour later they rose from the table. 'I cannot believe we finally finished a cup of tea.' Alexianna joked.

'Yes, hopefully we can make an attempt at dinner soon.'

'You'll need to let me know, I need to arrange a childminder. Weekends are harder for me.'

'Okay, next Tuesday, seven o'clock?'

'Say eight, it would be easier if I put Lily to bed before leaving.'

'Of course, how silly of me. I'll collect you if you'd like?' Alexianna bit her lip. 'Stop that, it's not good for you.'

'You're worse than Dan.'

'Good, if we all keep badgering you, we'll get you out of it.' he smiled encouragingly before looking at his watch. 'It's my turn to dart now.'

'I'll see you on Tuesday so?' Alexianna smiled hopefully.

'If I don't meet you beforehand. But Tuesday is a definite. Let me know if you have babysitting issues.'

'I will.' she promised.

Leaning down, Tom kissed her chastely. 'Goodbye Lexi.' he whispered before turning and leaving.

[lbibliophile]

Freak Powers

Dudley’s birthday is always a special day, but this year it has just gone from bad to worse. First there was the missing present, then there was the snake. Now there is a strange woman, with a strange letter, and a claim that threatens to turn the life he has known inside out.

on AO3 2262 words

Dudley glares at the TV. This is not how this day was supposed to go. It is supposed to be his day, his birthday, but this year it has just gone from bad to worse. First there was the missing present at breakfast. Then the freak had to join the visit to the zoo, and made that snake almost eat him. Then there was the aftermath of that, first at the zoo then at home. Now his Dad’s stormed off to the pub, his Mum was too shaken to cook his proper birthday dinner, and his whole evening is ruined. His day can’t possibly get any worse.

A knock sounds at the front door.

“Duddikins, can you please get that. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Dudley grumbles, but hauls himself to his feet. It’s not like he was actually watching the TV anyway, and if it’s a salesperson maybe he can yell at them.

As it turns out, it’s not a salesperson, or if it is, she’s not like any he’s seen before. The first thing he notes is her odd tartan suit, then the grey hair pulled into a tight bun – she’s old, but not old-old. He catches her stern gaze, shining from behind rectangular-framed glasses.

“Dudley Dursley, I presume?”

He gapes at her for a moment. She knows his name?

“Um, yes? Wait, are you here for my birthday?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. Or at least, on a related topic. Are your parents about?” He shrugs.

“Dad’s out, but Mum’s here. Muum!”

Finally his mother comes bustling over, drying her hands on a tea towel.

“Yes? And what do you want?”

“Ah, Mrs Dursley, Petunia. Professor McGonagall.”

She peers at the older woman.

“Do I… know you?”

“We met only briefly, many years ago, however we had a mutual acquaintance. But tonight, I am here on business. If I might come inside to talk to you and your son?”

His mother pauses for a moment, then agrees, settling them in the sitting room before returning to the kitchen to make tea.

Dudley stares at the woman, awkward silence growing.

“You said you were here for my birthday?”

“Indeed. I work at a school, and offers of admittance are traditionally delivered to prospective students on their eleventh birthday. Your mother might have mentioned it; Hogwarts?”

“That’s a funny name for a school, never heard of it. Besides,” he puffs up proudly, “I’m going to Smeltings. Just like Dad.”

Professor McGonagall smiles thinly.

“While I’m sure… Smeltings… would be lovely, Hogwarts caters to students with certain special skills. Tell me, has anything strange ever happened around you, particularly when you are upset or angry? Something you can’t explain?”

Startled by the question, Dudley pauses to think, memories trickling into his mind. Getting frustrated trying to reach a packet of biscuits on the shelf and having the box slide forward into his hand – but surely he just stretched a little bit further. Throwing a tantrum, and having things fall off a shelf on the other side of the room – but it must have been just his feet making the floor shake. Playing Harry Hunting and knowing exactly where his cousin is hiding – but the freak is just predictable like that.

Before he realises it, his thoughts are led into a new set of memories. Harry Hunting again, but his quarry vanishes, only to reappear on the school rooftop. A dropped glass shattering on the kitchen floor, then the shards flying back together and reforming in Harry’s hand. His cousin making a strange hissing sound as a snake slithers through a window that moments ago was filled with glass.

“No, never. That was always Harry.”

Even as he speaks the memories continue to unroll, the scenes detailing the consequences that inevitably followed such incidents. He remembers his father, face purple with anger, throwing his cousin into his cupboard and locking the door. He remembers his mother, shouting about the boy’s freakishness and ‘not in this house, don’t you dare’. He remembers just a few hours ago, and the sound of leather hitting flesh, punctuated by his cousin’s cries of pain.

The blood drains from his face. The freak deserved it, of course, after all he is just that; a freak. But this woman is trying to say that he is a freak too. He backs away from her and her life-destroying letter, shaking his head in denial.

“No. No, it can’t be. I’m not a freak, I’m not. That’s Harry, not me. He’s the one who does the freaky stuff, I’m normal. Mum, please, you have to believe me! I don’t do that stuff. It’s a trick, all that freak’s fault. You have to tell dad that it’s not me, I’m not a freak. I’m not! Never! Not a freak!”

Minerva watches in shock as the boy before her launches into full blown hysterics. She has seen a variety of reactions when muggleborns discover magic, but never something like this. And this was supposed to be an easy visit. A brief thought niggles at her mind and she wonders how Harry Potter fits into this view of magic. The pitch and volume rises and she winces, the light above flickering as the boy’s magic swirls through the room. The letter in her hand starts to vibrate and her eyes widen as she sees the name, one moment reading Mr Dudley Dursley, the next, Mr Harry Potter, and back again. She is drawing her wand, trying to think of the best way to calm the situation when it suddenly stops, the eye of the storm. Then the magic is moving again. Draining from the room, not back towards the blond boy collapsing on the ground, but away, leaving him an empty void to her senses.

Appearing in the doorway, Petunia stares at her son for a moment, lying on the floor, then spins to face her.

“You! What have you done to my Dudders? How dare you! You freaks are all the same, using your freaky powers to push around us normal people. What did you do to my son? Tell me! Undo it!”

Realising her wand is still raised, Minerva waves it at the woman, sending her to lie unconscious beside her son. It is not strictly ethical for her to use magic in such a way, but something is not right, and the woman’s screeching is not helping her to think.

First things first. She casts a diagnostic spell on the boy to make sure he was not harmed by his outburst. Elevated heartbeat, now slowing back to normal, slight bruise where an elbow hit the floor, magic levels… She reads it again. Zero. After a display like that she expected some magical exhaustion, but not to such an extent. Even muggles have some latent power, absorbed from their surroundings, but this boy seems to be actively rejecting it, forcing it away.

She looks down at the letter, somehow still held in her hand. The house address is the same as before, but the first two lines have changed.

Mr Harry Potter The Cupboard Under the Stairs

Only two lines, but the implications… The fact that Potter’s name has replaced Dursley’s. That he apparently spent the previous night sleeping in a cupboard, of all places. That, despite the commotion, he has not yet revealed his presence in the house, although the wards indicate he should be here. Something is not right here; she is missing something.

But there are more urgent matters to attend to before she can focus on finding Potter. She can still feel the last of the Dursley boy’s magic draining from the room, clearly being drawn towards something. And she had better find out what it is. Because with such a strong concentration of magic being uncontrolled like this, it would be far too easy to overload even a previously magical object. And trying to clean up the mess of the aftereffects of that is more hassle than she really wants to deal with. Particularly if she has the opportunity to help stabilise the power and nip any problems in the bud. Of course, if it is a human drawing the magic – either deliberately or unconsciously – it all depends on who and why.

These thoughts in mind, she focuses on her magic sense, following the fading trail back into the front hallway and towards the stairs. Starting to climb, she pauses. The magic is not going up the stairs, but into them. Or rather – she peers over the banister, seeing the expected door just below her – under them.

Walking around to face it, she frowns at the padlock securing the bolt. Depending on what is stored under there (cleaning supplies seems like the most obvious answer, or spare linens), perhaps it is simply to keep out inquisitive ten-year-olds. Merlin knows she understands the challenges inherent in that, but it obviously can’t be that effective if Harry was able to sneak in there last night. However, regardless of its effectiveness on small children, a simple padlock is no barrier to a fully-trained witch on a mission. A quick alohomora, and the padlock snaps open. It is the work of a moment to unbolt the door and swing it open.

Oh.

She sees at last what her mind had been picking at. The source behind all the little hints of not-right.

Yes, there are cleaning supplies on shelves against the back wall, but there are also battered trainers lying on the floor. And the worn blanket is not folded away, but spread over a mat on the floor. And on the ‘bed’… Well. Apparently the lock is not to keep a pair of children out, but to keep one particular child in.

She must make some sort of noise, because the figure curled on the blanket tenses, messy dark-haired head rising from where it was buried in thin arms. Her breath catches as green eyes (so familiar, but not) meet her own. They are red-rimmed from recent crying, the evidence dried on his cheeks. A movement causes his ratty and overlarge t-shirt to slip and she sees the reason for his tears; a swollen red welt curling forward over his shoulder. From the grimace as he moves, it is one of several.

“Harry?”

It is no more than a whisper, but the child takes it as a question, nodding and ducking his head.

“Yes, ma’am. Who- ?”

He cuts himself off, but the half-spoken question is enough to start to drive her brain back into gear. Shocked and worried, she retreats into her familiar Professor persona.

“I am Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” She sighs mentally at his blank look. Given what happened earlier, she doesn’t know why she should be surprised, but it appears that he will need the full Muggleborn introduction in addition to an overview of his specific circumstances. “Hogwarts is a school for learning magic.”

“You can’t say that word! And besides, m- that stuff isn’t real anyway.”

“Let me put this another way. Have strange things ever happened around you, particularly when you are angry or upset?”

“Of course, but that is just my freakishness. I try not to, honest! But it just happens.” Suddenly he gasps. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, a moment ago. Really! But the air got all buzzy, then it sort of filled me up, and I didn’t mean it to, I swear!”

Minerva grimaces slightly. Well, that answers several questions - including where the Dursley boy’s magic went - but it opens the door to a whole slew of new ones.

“That ‘buzzing’ feeling is magic. Hogwarts will teach you how to control and direct it, so you know exactly when and how it is working.” She pauses for a moment, then nods decisively. “Normally, school starts on the first of September, however given the range of circumstances, I believe it would be best for you to gain a head start before the beginning of term. Gather any personal items you wish to keep; you will be returning to Hogwarts with me for the rest of the summer. There is much work to be done, familiarising yourself with your new world before your classmates arrive.”

Leaving the confused – but smiling – boy to his packing, she returns to the sitting room. Looking at the woman still collapsed on the floor she takes a deep breath, struggling to control her emotions, then waves her wand once more. Perhaps she should have just left her there until the official Obliviators arrive, but she feels unable to leave without some comment, and better it comes in the form of words than a curse.

Petunia’s eyes flutter, then open fully, fixing on the witch’s glowing wand-tip.

“Mrs Dursley,” Minerva’s voice is pleasant, but does not quite cover the steel and icy anger beneath, “I apologise, for the intrusion. It appears that you do not in fact have a magical child residing with you at the present moment. My condolences to you and your son. I and Mr Potter shall take our leave.”

A final twitch of her wand, and Petunia falls unconscious again, Minerva already turning away. She collects Harry from the hallway, small and battered bag clutched in his arms, and they walk out the front door.

Some hours later, a pair of strange robed figures appear, the missing family member in tow. They wave around sticks of wood, then depart; leaving memories muffled in their wake.

Dudley’s final gift on his eleventh birthday, is forgetting.