#i tend to get overly attached and ride the up and down waves to the extreme when it comes to experiencing new media for the first time

[give-soup-please]

"is it depression, or am i between hyperfixations?"

-the title of give-soup-please's latest autobiography

[hollandroos]

The Price We Pay | Four

Summary: A one night stand was all it took for your entire life to change. You're shoved into unknown territory, agreeing to fake date the prince long enough for his parents and the media to get off of his back only there are a few issues... one of them being that you really can’t stand each other.

Series Masterlist

Words: 4.2K

Warnings: None!

Moodboard by @marvelousxtsh

-

“I thought I told you just to dress casually?” You taunt.

Tom steps out of the car– the passenger seat to be correct because after half an hour of back and forth you finally made him agree to drive, claiming it’d be a waste of time to get a driver. Though a part of you wondered when the last time he drove was and if it’d be safe.

But you were still alive, even after the painfully awkward drive between games of Ispy.

He shrugs, brown curls slicked around. “I wanted to make a good first impression.”

“Tom, sweatpants and a hoodie would have been fine. You could scare them off in that.”

His eyes widen, immediately going to stare down at his outfit– maybe it was a little over the top but truth be told he had no idea about your family and where they came from. He feared underdressing and hadn’t debated overdressing in the slightest.

“Fuck, really?”

You tug him forward by the front of his coat, pulling it off of his shoulders. Beneath was a white dress shirt tucked into his pants and you undid the top button, puffing out the collars. You throw the jacket into the front seat of the car and Tom grimaced at the way the material creased, buttons knocking against the dash.

“That’s a little better, you look good like this.” You felt a little proud and he smiles, glancing around for cameras but he finds none– in fact, he finds no one. Your childhood home really was in the middle of nowhere. “Just c’mon, and remember to relax, my family is nowhere as intense as yours.”

God, were you going to kill him–

He shoves the thoughts to the back of his brain. “S-should I hold your hand?”

“Yeah, we want to pull this off don’t we?”

He takes your hand into his own, intertwining your fingers together. The action was probably the closest you’d been since that night and it bought Tom a sense of comfort, reminding him that he wasn’t alone in this– so he began rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Oh yeah, by the way, I have four siblings.”

Maybe you should’ve told him soon– about Kenny who was only a year younger then you and Carley who was eighteen, then there was Louis and Marcus who were fifteen. But Tom never asked.

Four? Tom had none.

He stands startled. “What–”

“Y/N!” A shrill voice calls and you smile at the two twins that raced towards you, one with ponytails and the other a set of muddy shorts.

They were loud and extremely clingy. Personal space didn’t exist and showers were the enemy– even after a day of helping in the backyard.

You turn to Tom and give him a lopsided smile, small crinkles forming beneath your eyes. And rather sarcastically, you kneel. “Welcome to my life, your majesty.”

-

From there, Tom watched you interact with your four siblings, each of a different age except the twins with completely different personalities. You were right, they were loud and it came as a shock to him.

But he sort of liked it.

The prince was used to hundreds of hallways, the only noise being his own two feet padding against the marble ground as well as his men or the grandfather clocks singing a chorus every hour. Here, you had to speak up to be heard and shout across the table which at the palace would’ve been considered rude– here it was the only way to get your thoughts out.

Louis and Marcus had easily gravitated towards Tom and Carley had clearly tried to suck up the prince and he found it amusing. He allowed them to play around in the fairly expensive ride and even gave each of your siblings a box of chocolates as a ‘hey, I’m suddenly dating your sister please like me’ gift.

Kenny didn’t trust the man one bit.

But he watched you interact with each of the kids like they were your own and he briefly remembered you mentioning the hours you’d spend taking care of them when your mum was at work, making their favourite lunches and playing games to pass the hours.

It was a softer side he was pleased to see.

He watched you smile, corners of your lips turning upwards as they fill you in on everything you’d missed like Kenny moving jobs and their science project at school.

Tom had never had that, the comfort of another sibling. From an early age, he was in the classroom learning how to be a prince– the best kind of prince in fact. He wasn’t learning how to balance books on his head but laws at the age of nine. He had maids and cooks and teachers and busy parents that never ceased to forget about his existence.

But it doesn’t take him long of sitting around an overly crowded family table, much smaller then his own for him to realise that someone was missing.

“Where’s your mum?”

You leave the other kids to discuss whose turn it was to do dishes, ignoring your own stomach rumbling. “Right about now she’ll be at work but she’ll be back by dinner to meet my handsome boyfriend, she’s very excited.” You watch his face change. “Yes, Thomas, the people here do have to work long hours to get by.”

“I knew that! I did, I just thought they finished around three you know…” He feels a wave of awkwardness wash over him and fiddles with his fingers. “I don’t think your brother likes me very much.” He nods towards Kenny.

And of course, you being as uncaring as you turned straight to your younger brother. “Ken, what do you think of Tom?”

His face hardens. “I’m undecided.”

The comment makes Tom tense and if his heart wasn’t pounding before then it most definitely was now. He couldn’t put his finger on why he felt so nervous about this. If anything he must’ve been more nervous then you when you met his parents but he wasn’t sure because to this point in time, you’d done a beyond amazing at keeping your feelings hidden.

Tom felt like he’d barely peeled back one layer of many.

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” You try, taking his hand into your own and giving it a squeeze once more. “The others love you.”

It was a small action but one that made Tom’s heart run miles.

“Tom!” Carley says, staring between the two of you. She interrupts your small– barely there but there nonetheless moment. “Did you know that you’re the first boy she’s bought home in… probably forever?”

Toms' eyes widen, finding your suddenly fearful gaze. “Really?”

“Okay that’s not true–” You tense, sending her a threatening glare. But your sister only shrugs, a teasing smile making way on her face. She knew what she was doing and you hated it.

“We all didn’t think this day would come but here it is.”

Your grit your teeth and unknowingly squeeze Toms hand a little harder. He notices. “This is why I didn’t fuckin–”

“Tell me more, I want to know all about Y/N.” Tom interrupts, feeling your grip loosen. “What was she like as a child? did she listen at school?”

-

After half an hour of hearing all about your interest without your consent, your siblings all decided to scatter. Some went off to play with friends, some went to their room to do homework and one of them was apparently working out.

You didn’t know when your sister got so productive.

You and Tom wondered around the property, introducing him to your long missed farm animals. You watched his face change to disgust as he stepped over manure and puddles, nearly laughing at the way he seemed nearly unsure of every single step.

Of course, there were animals at the castle but nothing like this.

He didn’t tend to go around to the pens but seeing the pigs at yours– leaning down to pet them and nearly being shoved back when they rammed into his legs was surprising but made him laugh nonetheless.

And the cows– he loved the cows. There were two of them, Betsy and Bucky and without hesitation he pets the both of them.

“Originally we were going to sell them to the slaughterhouse but we grew too attached, mostly me but the younger ones did too of course and we managed to convince mum to keep them. So now they’re like our pets.” You smile, running a hand over Betsy's back.

Bucky moos at Tom.

“They’re adorable.” He smiles, stepping in what was either mud or cow manure. Tom only screws his face up for a second but quickly gets over himself. He had promised to give this a try and he wasn’t regretting it yet. “Do you have chickens?”

“Lots of them. When we were kids it’d be a race to see who could get the eggs first.” You smile at the memory.

“And here I thought you were a towns girl but you’re really a country girl at heart.”

“And here I thought you were an asshole prince, I guess only one of us was right with our assumptions.” You smile cheekily.

The two of you continue to walk around the place slowly, making sure to take it everything from the surprisingly blue sky to the grass that flattened beneath your feet with every step and the smell– because the smell wasn’t the best but the amazement in his eyes was definitely worth something.

“We haven’t actually had a proper moment to talk.” He mutters, stuffing his hands into his pant pockets. “I mean there was that first night, we were drunk. Then we were rushed then my parents were involved.”

“Have we not?”

“Nope.” Tom shakes his head, the two of you continue to walk around the property. “I hope you know that I appreciate what you’re doing for me. Seriously– it means a lot. I know it probably wasn’t easy to give up work and going from being… you, to headlining the papers.”

“Work was easy to give up, my boss is an ass and it really wasn’t easy have those out there.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Are you going soft on me?”

“I’ve always been soft, you just push my limits.” Tom teases, taking his hands out of his pockets.

You snort. “I do?”

He ignores the moment his hand brushes against yours.

“You have attitude, you’re feisty, no one’s ever spoken to me the way you do before and it’s– it’s different.” He shrugs, voice reaching a new pitch.

“I’m just real, Tom. I’m not going to start kissing your feet or beg you to love me. You’re a man with a crown and that crown means barely anything to me.”

“You see me as a person.” He highlights.

“You are a person. A person that annoys me to an extent.”

You come across the mud puddles you used to push your siblings into when you were a kid.

“Why do I annoy you so much?”

You don’t have an answer to his question at that moment.

So you shove him.

You watch him hit the ground with a gentle thud, mud splattering up and staining the end of your pants but he looked worse.

“Are you fucking serious?” He hisses.

You cover your mouth, trying to prevent him from seeing the smile that took place and the giggles that threatened to spill. You didn’t even care about how threatening his words sounded.

He looked a right mess. Mud stained Toms pants and right up to his waist, hands planted in the mud were a sticky brown and the frown on his face only topped it off. Dirt clung to his coffee brown curls.

You didn’t even take a second to think about how expensive his clothes were before you threw him into the giant puddle of mud or how long it’d take to clean his outfit, you purely focused on the amusement you felt the moment he hit the mud and the look of pure shock and disgust on his face when he realised that he was now coated in the mess.

“This isn’t funny!” He snaps, screwing his nose up at the god awful smell. “Get me the hell out of here or I swear–”

Tom stops, cutting himself off as he sees you clutching your stomach, laughs slipping from your lips. He watches the way your eyes screw shut, strands of hair falling over your face as you lean forward to grip the post for support and you hurl over just enough to take hold of your lower stomach.

“You just– you look so funny right now. You got such a shock too oh my god.” The words came out between laughs and gasps for air, there was even a single tear.

Then he had an idea– one that he knew could either get him into trouble or extend the fun and of course, Tom wanted to extend the fun.

“Can you help me out?”

He sticks a muddy hand out and you wipe a stray tear away, still trying to get your breathing back as you clasp your hand in his. All you thought he was going to do was push himself up, not pull you in.

“Tom–”

Then you were in the mud too, landing right on top of him. Your hands sunk into the muck which was anything but warm, coating themselves in the dirt before a heavy gasp left your lips, spots of mud decorating your cheeks.

Your laughs stopped, mouth falling open and shut like a fish as you took in the sight of your clothes lathered in ick and it stunk– dear god it stunk but not even a second later you took a hand full of dirt and dropped it on Toms clothed chest, turning the white tee a deeper shade of brown. You shouldn’t have been surprised and if you were watching instead of laughing then you would’ve seen him pull you in.

Still, the thought doesn’t plague your mind for too long because seconds later your hands are back in the mud collecting another handful.

“You’ve started a war you won’t win.” He threatens, a smirk forming on his features. Dirt sits at the corner of his mouth.

“Try me, Holland.”

He dumped mud directly on top of your head, strands of hair now highlighted the same colour of the muck you were still sitting in, back coated too from rolling off of him. Instead of getting annoyed, your chest erupted in giggles.

You felt like a child again, throwing mud back and forth with your siblings when your parents weren’t watching and Tom felt like… he felt like a different person. Because the prince would never do something this dirty just for fun.

With mud slathered all over his hands, Tom places one hand on your cheek gently creating a handprint on your face. You were both covered in the stuff. Your clothing may as well be thrown out and your hair would need some serious care but the smile on both of your faces was enough for it to be worth it.

The sun beat down on the two of you as you continued to layer each other in mother nature's gift, screwing your noses up at the sight of each other but that didn’t stop you.

Tom felt his cheeks flush at the sight of you so carefree but doubted it was noticeable beneath the mud. He basked in your giggles, the way your eyes squeezed shut as you wiped any dirt away from your eyes. You were happy and so was he.

There was no camera flashing or expectations to be held. It was just the two of you like it had been the first night and Tom had to stop and realise- this was the girl he’d spent the night with, giggling over glasses of wine and cheap alcohol.

It was carefree, bittersweet.

Then you were sitting there, both winding down and panting, the odd laugh still slicing through the silence and neither of you could even think about what you’d be going back to tomorrow. The next news line or obstacle you’d have to overcome was forgotten.

“What do we do now?” You sigh, taking in the site of both you and Tom covered head to toe in mud. If your mother were home, she would have lost it with both of you. You’d both be in the corner.

You looked the same way you smelt.

Tom screws his nose up, trying not to laugh at the sight of you with mud prints on both cheeks. “We smell disgusting.”

“Come on, we’ll use the shower before my family gets home– and not together!” You offer, beginning to force yourself out of the muck, noticing how his face changed from suggestive to blunt.

He felt something new.

“Damn it,” Tom mutters under his breath, fighting to urge to pull you back in. He didn’t want to go too far. “It was worth a shot.”

“Keep trying, maybe one day you’ll get there.”

That newfound feeling was hope.

-

The shower was… difficult to say the least.

You had to stand and watch the clear water turn a sickly shade of brown as it hit the floor and ran down the drain, clumps of dirt and shreds of grass following closely behind. It made you grimace but lathering yourself in the coconut scented soap and finally feeling clean again was worth it.

You step out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped just above your breasts and hair down naturally wet after the shower.

Tom glances up once– only once, then he directed his gaze back down to the book he was reading. It was clearly one from your bookshelf and by the looks of things he looked pretty into it, or at least he was pretending to be.

Your bookshelf was full and he wondered if you’d ever actually read a single one of them or if they were just for display.

It wasn’t the book in hand that shocked you but the fact that he wasn’t staring you down, his eyes weren’t filled with a certain hunger and instead they were focused on the pages of the teen romance novel. He was showing basic respect and it shocked you.

“Aren’t going to look? I’m practically naked?” You taunt, reaching into one of your draws. The plush, white towel rides up your thighs.

He shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the pages. “I’m not that bad, you know?” Tom chuckles. His hair was still wet from his own shower, hanging over his forehead in unkempt curls, wet and a darker shade then normal.

“I had a hunch,” You shrug. “Just a little bit surprised is all.”

He wore your brother's clothes, simply a plain grey tee and jeans and you’d admit that you thought he looked better in actual colours but he also looked good in the more– normal, everyday clothing.

And actually seeing him fitting in with your family made your heart flutter, stomach twisting and churning.

It actually felt weird to see a boy in your childhood bedroom– a boy that was used to so much more then a shoebox-sized room and a single bed. He was probably shocked by the little amount of furniture because of course you didn’t have a three-person couch in the corner or your own fireplace for when it got really cold.

But he did fit in, you knew that much.

You duck into the bathroom to throw your clothes on and put your hair up in the towel to dry it off, not wanting to deal with pesky drops of water running down the back of your neck and walk back into your bedroom. He was still in the same place.

“My family should be back soon and we could get going if you want?” You offer, tugging the oversized shirt down your thighs.

Tom glances up, placing the book down beside him. “Why don’t we take your mother's offer and stay the night? I mean I can take the couch and we can just head back tomorrow. It’s what? Half five anyway and the ride back would easily take an hour.”

“Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Yeah, if you want to that is.”

You furrow your brows, silently pleased that he had put that offer on the table. You had missed your family and staying a night would do you good. Maybe it’d do Tom some good too.

“Okay, Romeo, we’ll stay here tonight and be on the road by eight tomorrow?”

“Eight sounds good.” He smiles innocently, legs folded on the bed crisscross and you notice a scarred line down one of his temples beneath the light, a little imperfection that you wouldn’t have normally noticed.

There were those few exterior imperfections that you’d picked up on like that scar and his eyebrow– the one that was a little wonky compared to the other and his height you’d picked up on. He seemed to want to be taller then he was.

But you didn’t have an issue with any of it.

Of course you had your own flaws too and even thinking about them made you want to duck cover and hide. But Tom was slowly picking up on them. He’d be lying if he said he minded.

That night Tom slept on the couch in the living room with a selection of sheets over the top of him and a woollen duvet. For someone who had never slept on a couch in his life, he slept like a baby and you? You spent a solid hour staring at the ceiling before finally drifting off.

Tom felt a sense of comfort, draped in not only the blankets but a sense of comfort. He didn’t worry that people were watching him– attempting to pry out a secret or expose him to the world and he slept soundly that night.

-

It was a seven am wake up.

The sun streamed through the thin blinds, pulling Tom from a rather deep sleep and quite literally, forcing him out of bed. He wouldn’t admit that he fell from the bed with a tumble, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

He neatly folded the blankets given and straightened out the pillows, making the place look presentable and sat and waited for you to come in. He flicked through papers, tried out different seating positions tried to force him back to sleep before he heard the living room door open and stumbled up, turning to see you looking beyond tired– he feared to ask why.

You grumbled a good morning, hugging the fuzzy robe to your chest and trudged to the kitchen. Tom followed loosely behind much like a lost puppy.

“So, the plan today? We leave at around eight and you dropping me straight home? Because I’m tired and don’t feel like dressing up for your parents again– as fun as it was prancing around in a dress last time.” You laugh lightly, voice slightly raspy.

But Tom doesn’t mind it.

“Yeah I can drop you straight home, we can try and avoid the paps but there is something I need to ask.”

For some reason he felt nervous to ask, utterly unsure as to what your answer would be. Of course you’d only known each other for just over a week but the media had suspected around a month or more.

And as a royal things were expected to move fast.

Then your mother walks in.

“Morning you two.”

Your mum sounds as tired as ever, the bags under her eyes evident and hair thrown around messily– much like yours. She wasn’t cherry, never being a morning person but you knew that she was happy to have you back even if it was just for one night.

Tom tenses.

“Morning Ms. Y/L/N, how’d you sleep?” Tom wraps his arms around your waist as he asks the question, pulling your back flush against his chest making you too look like a real couple. You tensed at the sudden physical act of affection, nearly dropping the butter knife but don’t.

It wasn’t the question he wanted to ask but It was one that made him look respectful. You feel his lips ghosting across your temple and for a moment bask in his gentle touch.

“Not well, Marcus kept me up in the night again.” She sighs, “I did sleep a little better though knowing that my daughter was back under my roof.”

You smile, though deep down you felt bad about the lie that you were carrying out. “You know you can come and visit me anytime you need to get away? I’m sure Kenny wouldn’t mind looking after the younger ones for a night or two.”

You’d completely forgotten about Toms question.

“You know I couldn’t, sweetheart, not when you’re finally really starting to live. You have a boyfriend now! And a prince too, that’s incredible.”

You feel a pang of guilt, the product of lying to the women that raised you and only manage to smile awkwardly. So you turn to Tom, craning your neck.

“Oh hey, what did you want to ask me?” You divert attention from her recent comment, feeling a stomach ache coming on.

He blinks a few times, feeling your mums warm gaze on the pair of you. “There’s a gala… yeah, a gala next week and I was wondering if you’d like to come as my date–fake date of course!”

You smile and take hold of his clasped hands– it added to the act. “As long as Harrison does my outfit again then I’m game.”

A gala meant being out in public with Tom as his girlfriend.

Please remember to reblog or send me an ask telling me what you thought of this chapter!! One reblog goes a long way :-)

PART 5

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[catsdaydreams]

Return of the King

Chapter 1 of Positive. This is an AU where Kendra(MC) never goes to Cordonia, Liam never actually tells her he is a Prince, and he loses his virginity at his bachelor party, with Kendra. 

Catch up Here. 

Requested Tag list: @ladynonsense @drivenbyfantasy @marcela13mars @hopefullmoonobject @hhiggs @madaraism @topsyturvy-dream @mfackenthal @decisso @boneandfur @kawairinrin If I missed you let me knowww.

I tend to keep all of my MC names the same for the books, so TRR MC will always be Kendra, because its an Alternate Universe of the same story. Ya feel? 

Also timeline for y’all because my TRR timeline looks a lil different: I have always thought social season = 1 year. Engagement tour = 6 months, but of course our king has duty’s so there is a 3-4 month lapse between the end of the social season and the beginning of the Engagement tour. There’s also a 6 month period between the boys in New York and the start of the social season. This is the same for all of my TRR AU’s unless specifically stated otherwise.

So, the crew would be in New York Roughly 2 and a half years AFTER the first time they meet MC. 

I rolled in annoyance as my alarm went off again. 6 am every day, I got up and got ready to go to work. It had been over 2 years since I had last stepped foot into the bar that I had met Liam in, choosing instead to opt for a job with a more comfortable wage, but less flexibility. I let the silence of the morning seep into my soul as I packed two lunches. One for me, and one with much smaller portions.

I walked across my small town home and peeked into my sons room. He stood in his crib waiting, a big smile plastered onto his face showcasing the adorable dimples on either cheek. “Good morning, Cadence.”  I smiled. His tiny hands griped the side of his crib as he peered at me excitedly, waiting for me to pick him up and let him out. “Mama!” He squealed, his young voice dragging out the word, as a toddler often does.

I put him on my hip as I turned and grabbed his outfit for the day, a light romper and a pair of tiny sneakers. “Are you ready to go bye bye? We’re going to go see your friends at daycare!” I asked, as I pulled on the last of his clothes. He excitedly ran for the door, trying and failing to turn the knob. 

I grabbed our food for the day and my coffee and helped him down the stairs and into my car, strapping him into his car seat. 

Two years ago after I had learned I was pregnant with a strangers baby, one who had to return home for an arranged marriage, I panicked. I waited until I could see a doctor and heard the undeniable heart beat before I called my dad in tears and explained the situation. 

My father and I both tried for the duration of the pregnancy to locate Liam, but to no avail. I couldn’t remember the country he claimed to be from any longer, and he had no face book, left no email or phone number, I had no way to track him down. I had resigned to being a single parent with the father never knowing he had a child out there, and once the baby came, I no longer cared. 

Delivery and pregnancy both were relatively simple, and I gave birth to a healthy 8 lbs little boy at 2 in the morning on August 18th. He shifted my entire perspective. Being a mother was hard enough, but being a single mother proved to be impossible without some form of help. My dad moved into the city to help me keep an eye on him overnight while I worked, but it was blaringly obvious that I needed a better job.

So I searched, finally landing a paralegal job at a large firm in the city. The hours were long, and the work was tedious. But it allowed me to have nights and weekends with my son, and give me enough money to get into a house with a yard and afford daycare. I was okay on my own, and I didn’t mind much that I was alone as I didn’t have to argue with someone on how to raise my child, or have to compromise on behavior. My life was actually pretty spectacular. 

I dropped my son off at daycare and pulled into work with just enough time to clock in a few minutes early. I sat down inside of my cold grey cubicle, pictures of my father, Cadence and I littering the walls and attempted to eat what was supposed to pass as a breakfast sandwich

“Hey Kendra!” I heard Shelby’s overly excited voice from the other side of the thin wall. I internally groaned. Shelby meant well enough, but she was a horrible gossip and spent more time talking than she did working. Her blonde hair was pulled into a slick ponytail as she rounded the corner into my cubicle. She adorned an abstract colorful shirt paired with sleek grey pants, and her brown eyes were alight with excitement. 

“Hey Shel.” I said, trying to enjoy what was left of my breakfast, “Have you heard the news!!” I sighed placing down my sandwich and turning to face her, bracing myself for whatever longwinded story was about to come from her mouth. “What news?” I asked flatly, though she didn’t seem to notice. She squealed excitedly shoving her phone in my face, “The King of Cordonia is here on his engagement tour! He’s so cute!” She said, her phone pulled up to a TMZ article. “You realize he’s engaged yeah?” I pointed out with a laugh as I scrolled through the article. My interest peeked as I recognized the countries name. 

My heart froze as I realized why the name was familiar. Liam! He had been from Cordonia! I quickly handed back her phone as I powered on my own computer. “What is it?” She asked, sensing the change in my demeanor. “Cadence’s dad. I just remembered, he was from Cordonia too!” She gasped, “No way! What a coincidence, Cadence looks just like this guy too, let me show you a picture of King Rys.” I attempted to ignore her as I pulled up the search engine, but the smiling blonde immediately drew my attention.

“There’s no way.” I breathed, staring at a picture of Liam. It was certainly his face, but his eyes held a coldness I didn’t recognize/ I grabbed my jacket and my lunch, “Shelby I have to go. Cover for me?” I said over my shoulder as I raced out of the office. I pulled up any information I could about the Kings visit, according to TMZ he and the other tour members showed up last night, and were seen at the very same bar we had met at.

Hes looking for me, I realized with a start. I then headed over to the bar to see who had been on shift last night. My old manager was there when I stepped inside, “Kendra! My good friend, I was just about to call you!” I frowned. Ymir hated me, and nothing brought him more joy than my two week notice. I peered at him apprehensively, as he fished a note from behind the bar. “Here! This is from your friend with lots of money. You should bring him back around here again, they all tip very well.” He said, his Spanish accent contorting the words.

I shook my head, now I get it. Liam must have left a note for him to get in touch and Ymir wanted his business, he thought I could probably bring them all back. I mumbled a thanks as my hands shook as I opened the envelope. I expected a phone number, or address. Instead there was an invitation for the United Nations party tonight.

A sticky note was attached, written in Liam’s scribbled writing. 

By now I am sure that you have realized why I had an arranged marriage, I would like to see you again if you are in New York and I beg for your audience tonight. ~Liam. 

Later that night I paced the apartment, waiting for my dad to arrive to watch Cadence for the night. I debated on bringing him with me. His green eyes peering through his un-tame able blonde locks.  No, I decided. I wasn’t ready for that. I wasn’t ready to share my little bug. “Vroom vroom” He said, with a big smile holding his truck up to me. 

“Yes, bugga, vroom vroom!” I said with a laugh, as I ran the truck back and forth over our rug. His ever present beam filled my heart with an inexplicable joy. A resounding knock came from the door, interrupting our play. I crossed the living room and opened the door, greeting my father. 

“Hey Daddy.” I said, welcoming him with a hug. “Pop pop!” I heard my sons shrill call of joy as he raced around my legs and into his grandfathers open arms.

“So, have you decided if you are going to tell him tonight or not?” My father said, cutting to the chase. He was nothing if not a blunt man, I suppose I got it honest. “No.” I replied. “What if he tries to take him? He clearly has the means too.” I said, resuming my pacing. My dad blocked my path and grabbed my shoulders. “And what if he doesn’t? Doesn’t this man deserve to know he has a son? Doesn’t he deserve to share the same joy that you have just from knowing him?”

I pouted at him, but I knew he was right. It would be wrong of me to keep this secret from Liam. I knew in my heart what the right thing was to do, but as I watched my son play on the rug, his little heart so full of innocent and joy; I thought about the possibility of having him taken from me and it felt so soul crushing. To not be there for his sleepy greeting, or his sloppy kisses, or to watch him discover the joy of life and remind me that there was more to this world than I could see. It was terrifying. 

The Uber outside honked. I frowned at my dad, “I told him you would likely need a ride.” My dad said with a shrug. He had known I was getting cold feet even without talking to me. “Sly old coot.” I said, as I grabbed my jacket and made my way to door. He smiled, my son in his arms as they both waved at me, “Say bye bye, mommy.” 

“buh-bye!”

The ride to the UN party only allowed for me to stew in my fears longer. The car pulled around to the front of the party, where press stood documenting each guest. I smoothed out my lavender floor length tulle dress as I stepped out. Feeling the weight of my dangling fake crystal earings sway with the movement. My chocolate colored hair was wrapped into an elegant bun, and my make up was soft, aside from the sharp winged liner on my eye lids.

I kept my eyes on the door as I approached and produced my invitation to the people at the door. They nodded me through, not giving me much time to process if I wanted to turn around. My heels clicked on the smooth marble floor beneath me as I took in the sight before me. Walking through a 2nd set of open ornate double doors. People of all walks of life mingled as the soft music played. circular tables were strewn about decorated with beautiful cream table cloths and gold roses. 

I realized quickly not to touch anything, as I probably couldn’t afford it. I searched the room quickly, but didn’t see Liam. I found the place holder that had the same number on it as my invitation and took my place at the table, noting the empty five seats around me. A server brought me a glass of white wine and I sipped on it slowly.

The crowd finally began to be seated as it neared to less than five minutes before the appetizers were brought out. There were numerous speeches none of which I cared to pay attention to, sinking further into my wine. There were two boys, and three other girls seated at the table with me, all of them speaking a language I didn’t know. 

At one point one of the men turned and attempted to ask for my name in english, to which I simply smiled and nodded my head as if I didn’t understand. He quickly abandoned his attempt and resumed talking to his friends. My anxiety was high, I was surrounded by food I couldn’t afford, a language and people I didn’t know, and my gracious host was no where to be found. 

An hour dragged by, the meal finished and servers dragged the tables to the outer rim to make a dance floor, which most of the populous took full advantage of. One of the men seated at my table even began break dancing.  I snorted into my wine, feeling the warm buzz of intoxication. A hand entered into my vision field, outstretched. 

I looked up and felt my stomach leap into my throat. Liam. 

“Care to join me for a dance?” He said, hand waiting. I frowned and pulled my arms closer to my chest. “Bold move for an engaged King.” I seethed. I hadn’t realized how angry the whole situation made me until I saw him. Here he was, not a care in the world, and the last few years had been rough for me. I spent countless nights without sleep, comforting my loving son through his sickness, his teething, his injuries. I loved my son very much, but parenting was hard, and I had done it alone. And here he was enjoying balls and feasts, with all the money in the world. 

He was royal, and I was not, and he had no clue about Cadence and it left me wondering what his motives were in inviting me to this party in the first place. I took a long sip of my wine. He frowned at me, “It’s just a dance, I didn’t mean any harm.” He said, settling into the seat next to me. “What’s wrong?” He stated quietly. 

I rolled my eyes, the alcohol spurring the anger, “I know the deal was no contact information but you could have at least said, ‘Hey, by the way, I’m a king.’ On the ferry ride back to your taxi.” I said sarcastically. He nodded, “ah.” He said, taking a sip of champagne. “You’re angry I didn’t tell you I was a prince. Would you have changed the terms then? Used our bedding as leverage to extort money? Or just bragging rights?”

I turned to him, eyes wide as I noted his dark expression. Anger laced through his voice like a striking cobra, directed at me. “Excuse you Liam. I just don’t like being blindsided.” I huffed, “I’m not sure who you think you are talking to with that tone, but it sure as hell isn’t me.” 

Liam sat in silence for a moment, “King Liam.” he corrected before he stood abruptly, “I need you to come with me, I have something I need to discuss with you.” He said coldly. I scoffed at him, “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Rage and pain coarsed through me. I was hurt at his implication, but also felt the familiar tinge of guilt. He was right, together we were just Kendra and Liam, why should it matter now if he had been a prince. We both knew what we were getting into when we agreed on a week and then never speaking again.

So why did it feel like such a betrayal, an intrusion on something private. Something ours. “It’s a legal matter.” He said, his eyes burning. My heart quickened, as I stood to follow him. There was no polite outstretched hand, or elbow as I was accustomed to with Liam. He was angry, and I understood his thought process. His title shouldn’t matter unless I wanted to use it for personal gain.

I followed him out of the ballroom and down twisting and turning hallway before he hesitated on a door handle. “Liam” I said, pulling on his elbow, “I’m sorry, you’re right. It shouldn’t matter what your title is. It just startled me to find out from the media instead of you. It felt like...like an intrusion. A betrayal.” I said. Liam and I had promised long ago to just be forward with our feelings, and I hoped that he still understood that.

He ran a hand through his hair, “Sorry, it’s habit for me to watch myself around people. Everyone always wants something for you, rarely do they want you.” 

My expression softened, “Liam, I wanted you. I hate that you had to go, but I understood. I wish things had been different.” I admitted. Liam smiled, “In a different life, perhaps you would be on this tour with me.” He said, his eyes twinkling as he opened the door. 

“But in this life, you are not. Which means, I need you to sign this.” He said walking to a side table as I realized we were in a suite. He pulled papers and a pen from the side table, and handed them to me. I looked over it, but in my drunkenness I couldn’t focus long enough to understand it. “What is it?” I slurred. Liam gave me a sad smile. “It is a Non-disclosure agreement. It prevents you from being allowed to discuss our time together, or go to the press.”

I frowned, “Right, of course.” I said, sitting to keep my balance. Liam sighed, “how much have you had to drink.” The irratation from earlier made its reappearance. “Don’t patronize me, King Liam.” I said, pouting. “You always were a lightweight,” he muttered clearly annoyed. “Hey whats your malfunction.” I said, my words biting. He gave me a pointed look.

“You can’t sign a legal document while intoxicated. It would get thrown out in the court.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “here, just write down your address and I’ll drop it off in the morning. I noticed you moved.” He said. “Yeah, I needed the space for...” I trailed off. I couldn’t tell him about Cadence, I didn’t have it in me. Liam cocked his head, “a dog.” I lied. 

I then realized that if he saw my house the chances were high he would see Cadence too and I wasn’t ready. My brain knew I would have to tell him eventually. But not right now. I sat at the edge of the bed as I pondered what lie I could give him to keep him from asking for my address. I could fake sobriety, but he would see right through it. My mind kept spinning while Liam sat quietly and studied me. 

I looked up at him through my lashes, deciding to derail the subject completely the only way I could think too through the wine filled haze. “What are you staring at?” I asked. He was leaning against the bedpost. “You are still the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.” He said wistfully. I frowned, deeply, but couldn't keep the blush off my cheeks. “Liam, arranged or not, you are still an engaged man.” He let out a bark of a laugh. “Yes, but no.” He explained. He motioned around the room. “This is my suite, do you see any of Madeline’s clothes in here?” I stared at him. 

He chuckled, “Things are different in Cordonia, political marriages are allowed to be open, so long as both partners agree. Madeline has made it very clear she has no desire to pursue a romantic relationship.” he sighed. “It appears she has a romantic connection to someone at court already.” I stood, unsure of how I wanted to proceed. I wanted to stay, but I knew I should head home.

Liam had only brought me there to sign legal paperwork, and yet my gut told me there was more. Perhaps Liam was forcing himself to be extra cold, I couldn't tell, the wine impairing my senses and I had also never seen him in this setting. I stood, and brought our chests together, “does that mean its okay if I-” He leered down apprehensively, “Kendra what are you doing?” He said cutting me off. Yet he didn’t move.

I peered up at him, “Do you miss it at all?” I asked lust lacing my voice as I remembered the week we spent pent up in my apartment. I hadn't touched anyone since, and I had the sneaking suspicion he hadn’t either. “Miss what?” He asked, still not moving away from me. I could have imagined how he seemed to almost lean into me. I smiled at him through my thick lashes, and pulled on his lapels. “The way we felt together, skin on skin.” I said, lightly breathing.

He was definitely leaning into me, “We shouldn’t.” He said, his voice suddenly deeper. I frowned, “I’m sorry.” I said beginning to lean back. He put his hands on my hips and kept me flush against him. “Don’t be. I really do need you to sign the NDA.” He said huskily. I nodded, “I will.” He studied my face for a moment before bringing his head down to kiss me. 

His kiss was soft, and sweet. His lips pressing on mine gently, and I could feel my knees weakening as I melted. He gently pressed me onto the bed. I could see the hint of a smile on his lips, and I could feel his quickly forming erection through his pants.

I moaned at the touch, he groaned, “I love it when you moan.” He breathed. “Can you stay tonight?” He said, kissing into my neck. I nodded, “I have to send a text.” I said, pulling my phone above my head, away from Liam’s gaze, as he planted kisses down my neckline. He pulled my dress down my hips and off by the straps as I giggled and let my dad know not to wait up for me. His response was almost immediate. 

Condoms, Kendra. Cadence doesn’t need siblings.

I snorted, locking my phone and putting it face down on the nightstand. Liam looked at me hungrily, “I miss your body. I miss your laugh, I didn’t realize how much I missed you Kendra.” Liam muttered pressing kisses up my stomach. He rolled off the bed and pulled a shirt from his luggage. 

I looked at him confused as he handed it to me. He smiled, “I haven't seen you in almost 2 and a half years, and we aren't doing this while you’re drunk.” He said, dropping his voice and laying next to me. 

I agreed and we layed together comfortably, catching each other up on our lives, minus Cadence of course. I would tell him soon, just not yet. We laughed, and talked, and reminisced for hours, finally falling asleep tangled in each others arms. 

Next

[allonsysilvertongue]

Summer Nights

Summary: At six year old, Effie Trinket was convinced that the eight year old boy with dirty blonde hair who often jostled her roughly when her mother was not looking and made her run after him in the summer heat was the best friend she needed. The same could not be said for Haymitch Abernathy.

Hello everyone, this is a hayffie au. I have done a gifset many many years ago of Haymitch and Effie knowing each other from a young age but I never did write it until this idea popped into my head about a week back. I know it sounds odd but I hope you'll give it a chance, and we can have a chill ride with the story.

Anyway, hy headcanon has always been that Effie's always six years younger than Haymitch but for this story, I have decided to shorten the age gap otherwise it'll be just creepy and I have also scaled down some timelines.

Chapter 1 – What’s the deal, Mr. and Mrs. Trinket?

Haymitch Abernathy stood by the porch, watching the car drive into the compound. As it made a turn to park, the young girl caught sight of him. Her face bloomed into a smile and she waved enthusiastically through the window.

He waved back with a grin, one hand still clutching on to his younger brother.

Next to him, his mother stood tall, dutifully waiting for the guests’ arrival.

“Hello,” Effie Trinket walked up to them.

At six year old, Effie Trinket was convinced that the eight year old boy with dirty blonde hair who often jostled her roughly when her mother was not looking and made her run after him in the summer heat was the best friend she needed. Everyone has a best friend so she was entitled to one too.

On her eighth birthday, he was still her best friend despite having already made other friends in school. It was just so unfortunate that he lived so far away and they only get to meet during the summer.

When Effie turned nine and her family made the trip down to the other end of the country where Haymitch stayed, he gave her a box. In it was a bracelet made from macaroni shells he had sneaked from the kitchen and painted over the winter.

“My birthday is over,” she told him.

“I know,” he said. “But I don’t get to see you until summer so there.”

She kept it safe in her nightstand drawer back home, too afraid to wear something so fragile lest she broke it.

At that age, Haymitch was her only male friend. It meant none of her other friends in school believed she had a friend of the opposite gender since they had never meet or seen him before. It made her mad when they started referring to Haymitch as her imaginary friend. He was as real as them, but so be it. Perhaps it was better that they had never and would never meet him. He was dear to her and the last thing she wanted was to have anyone coming to steal her best friend away like they had taken Valeria from her.

Haymitch on the other hand was quite well known in the district and had friends everywhere – girls and boys alike. He made the effort to introduce her to some of them if they happened to come around to the Village when she was there. Sometimes she was scared that he would rather spend his summer with them but he was always there to accompany her.

By the time Effie turned eleven, she thought that the now thirteen year old Haymitch Abernathy was the handsomest boy she ever met, a little rude lately but still very handsome.

“Hey, Effie,” he winked in her direction.

Rude, she thought, for him to take the liberty of using that moniker that only her grandmother called her by and only when they were alone together.

She had told him that fact one night under the startling brightness of the stars and he had declared it to be much better than Euphemia.

“Good morning, Haymitch,” she greeted him by his given name because she knew that he detest being called ‘Mitch’ and while she could have easily just call him by that to irritate him, she was fortunately raised with impeccable manners.

Haymitch flopped down on the seat next to her, immediately reaching out for the chocolate croissant he was so fond of.

“Now children,” Lysandra Trinket addressed them and from the corner of Effie’s eyes, she could see Haymitch wrinkled his nose at being called a child. “What are you both planning on doing today? Do tell so I may arrange my day accordingly…. Haymitch? I do hope you will have something interesting for my daughter today.”

That usually meant that her mother would rather have Effie’s day occupied so she would not be bothered for the rest of the day. Effie didn’t mind it that much. Haymitch was often very good at keeping her busy from morning till dinner.

Effie turned towards Haymitch expectantly. He paused in the middle of taking a bite from his half eaten croissant.

“What do you wanna do?” he asked.

“It is a hot day, isn’t it….? Swimming will be fun.”

There was a laugh threatening to burst from that annoying grin on his face that Effie was quick to get a word in before he could speak.

“I have had swimming lessons so I will not be drowning. Father made sure,” Effie huffed.

He smirked in her direction.

“Sure,” Haymitch said with a chuckle, clearly remembering the incident last summer when she had waded into the deeper end of the pool after he issued a challenge and nearly drowned. “We’ll swim.”

It was only half past ten in the morning and already, the sun was beating down on them. She already felt sticky under her armpits from the sweat. It was disturbing to know just how much she could perspire by just having breakfast outdoor.

Effie grew restless waiting for Haymitch who had disappeared right after breakfast claiming he had some homework to do. From her experience, he knew he was likely doing homework for his friends. She could never understand why he would allow his friends to pile their homework on him but when she had asked once, he said he had his reasons.

“What time are we going swimming?” she asked, opening the door to his room.

“Later,” he answered without even looking at her.

She huffed in annoyance. “When is later? It is so very rude of you to just keep me waiting…”

The only reason Effie indulged her parents in this annual summer trip all the way in this sleepy, quiet coal mining district was because of Haymitch Abernathy. Her father’s reason was solely for business while her mother, as advised by her therapist, needed the quiet reprieved every once in a while from the city and the media for all the fame attached to her name. Otherwise, Effie highly doubted that Lysandra Trinket would even agree to spend her summer here.

“Ten minutes,” he answered curtly.

Without an invitation and because she knew Haymitch wouldn’t mind, Effie sat perched on the edge of his bed. He was hunched over the small study table, scribbling on a note book.

With an impatient sighed, she flopped down on the bed unceremoniously. It earned her an amused glance from him.

“Don’t let your mother see you,” he commented, turning back to his work.

“Work faster then, before my mother catches me like this. Ladies do not behave this way and you will be sure that I will blame it on you.”

He frowned but otherwise did not respond. He hardly ever did when she pulled that card on him. At that age, she barely gave it much thought, simply assuming that like everyone else, he was afraid and wary of her mother.

“When I see you again next year, you will already be starting high school,” she remarked, staring up at the white painted ceiling. “Will you be working at the mines? Father said you will eventually.”

He stiffened, his pen poised in mid-air.

“Not yet.”

His answer was curt and his tone warned her not to pursue the topic any further.

It was odd, she thought. He didn’t seem proud of the mines like she figured he would be.

Why wouldn’t he be proud of the coal mines?

His great-grandfather who was amongst the first generations to settle in this district town years earlier had sold a large hectare of land to the Trinkets. The land was turned into a coal mine managed solely by her family.

The mine was what gave this town their livelihood and since it was his family’s contribution, Effie, without truly understanding the full history, thought that it was something he should be proud of.

Back in the city, in the Trinkets’ mansion, her father always talked about the Abernathys as if they worked for him but whenever summer came around and they took a vacation in the Abernathy’s house - a house that Haymitch’s great-grandfather received as part of the land deal - her parents often treated his family as though they were friends.  Her parents’ dual behavior confused her greatly but adults, in general, were confusing. All she knew was that Haymitch is her friend and she is his, which was why she was willing to wait for him.

Effie Trinket hardly ever sat around idly waiting for people.

“Alright, come on,” he declared finally.

He grabbed the towel that was hanging around the bed post and waited until she left his room before he closed the door.

The pool was small by Effie’s standard – a grown man could only complete five broad strokes before reaching the end, which was admittedly deep as she discovered the year before. She had seen more impressive pools in the city, in other mansions and apartment buildings. When she had asked her father about the Abernathy’s pool, Stephen Trinket had scoffed derisively and claimed that they were lucky to have it in the first place. Her own grandfather, Matias Trinket, had commissioned the pool to be made for the Abernathys as a New Year gift one year when the coal mine brought in profit above the expected margin.

Of course, she had then asked Haymitch about it but he waved her question away. At times, his reaction to her questions made her form the impression that he didn’t quite like this house that his family got from hers, and she could never understand the reason for it.

“So you only learn to hold your breath and float around like a hippo?” he snorted after watching her for a few minutes.

“Do not be rude!” she snapped.

They tended to get into stupid arguments simply because he was overly frustrating and rude. She wondered if thirteen year old boys all behave like jerks.

“I’ll show you,” she turned her nose at him and proceeded to do a few breast strokes and back strokes.

He mockingly gave her a standing ovation complete with an overdramatic bow before he settled down at the spot on the grass where two overlapping tree branches provided him some shade.

“You said you’ll swim with me,” she pouted.

“I swam with you,” he replied without taking his eyes off his book. “Now I’m reading. Shush.”

“You are so boring. Really, what is so interesting about the book?”

“I’ll find out if you let me read but it’ll still be more interesting than watching you swim,” he quipped easily.

Effie ignored him after that. She practiced her moves and when she needed to catch a breath, she ended up watching him. Haymitch was on his stomach, half-naked except for the shorts he wore to swim. The sun had long dried his skin but his hair was still damp, making it looked darker than normal. Once in a while, his finger would turn a page from his book and depending on what he was reading, his brows would crease slightly as he concentrated.

“Why are you staring at me?”

She blinked.

“I wasn’t,” she denied and promptly disappeared under the water.

When she emerged, he was standing at the edge of the pool looking down at her. She didn’t realised he had grown this tall until now when she had to tilt her head back to look at him.

“I have to go to town. Get some things for mama for dinner.”

“I will go as well,” she said without missing a beat. “I do not want to be left alone. What would I do?”

By the time that summer ended, Effie’s skin had a healthy tan to it, she had gotten so much better at holding her breath under water and the one thing she was most proud of was that Lief, Haymitch’s baby brother, no longer cried when she held him.

“See you next year, Effs,” Haymitch said.

She hugged him tightly.

“I’ll miss you,” she whispered into his shoulder. “I am already counting down for summer next year.”

He released her with a smile.

Effie got into the car that would bring her family to the train station back to the city, feeling a little forlorn that time seemed to have fly past. She gave a final wave to Haymitch, his brother and his parents. They were standing in front of the wrought iron gates at the entrance of the village and as the car continued to travel, Haymitch and his family became smaller and smaller before they eventually disappeared from her line of sight when the car rounded the bend.

“You had a word with them, did you not?” her mother spoke.

Effie raised her head, thinking it was her that her mother was addressing.

“Of course,” Stephen nodded.

With that, Effie went back to staring out of the window, her hands folded nicely on her lap. The train journey back was the least favourite part of her summer.

“I made it clear that we will not provide any further finances to the mine than what we already have,” her father continued. “They are to make it safe for the coming inspection.”

“What about production?”

“I have explained that it should be maintained and if targets are not met, there will be consequences.”

Her mother laughed a little that and Effie cringed at the pitch.

“That would explain why Lachlan did not look particularly happy the past two days,” Lysandra commented.

“Be that as it may,” her father replied nonchalantly. “He has two sons to feed and put through school, and an entire town depending on him for their livelihood. He will come through.”

As curious as Effie was, her mother had always told her not to poke her nose into other people’s business, especially theirs. Whatever it was between her parents and Haymitch’s parents was their problem, not hers nor Haymitch.

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Play Date

Play Date Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Kidge; minor Hance Summary: Years after disbanding from Team Voltron, they still like to get together to catch up and enjoy a meal together. Especially now that they have little ones to look after. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more. AN: I have no excuse for this; I just really wanted to write some simple domestic fluff.

When her family came in to meet the newest member of their clan, her brother had taken one glance at her son before he laughed and asked, “Are you sure you didn’t just clone Keith?”

Pidge had looked at him with a grin that screamed murder, gently bouncing the blanketed bundle in her arms, and sneered back, “Cloning doesn’t typically involving tearing from your V to your A over eleven hours of labor, Ass Hat.” That had gotten a good round of laughter from her parents, Matt had looked mortified, and Keith had hidden a smirk of his own by gently taking their son to check his diaper.

She wasn’t exactly sure how likely it was for a child to look so much like one parent and barely resemble another – and she wasn’t exactly interested, admittedly, – but there was no denying that Kaden was Keith’s son. Not only had he inherited his father’s looks, but he had also gotten some of Keith’s little quirks. Kaden tended to be relatively quiet around most people but he would babble quite insistently for she, Keith, and Grandma Colleen – whom had wept in glee when her daughter told her that she was one of her grandson’s favorite people to talk at – whenever they were around. The only time he ever seemed to get particularly fussy or noisy about wanting anything was when he wanted to be cuddled (which was another shared aspect with his daddy, though she was nice enough to not call attention to the fact in front of their friends and family).

Many a time he had made loud, grousing noises at Pidge from his spot in his playpen until she plucked him out and let him snuggle up with her.

That wasn’t to say that he hadn’t inherited anything from his mother, though; he had inherited being a naturally quick learner from Pidge herself. Despite him being just shy of hitting the eleven month mark, Kaden was already progressing much faster than other infants his age. Though most of what he said was just cute baby gurgling, he had gotten good about saying “Dada”, “Mama”, “No”, and was trying to figure out how to say juice, coming out as “Uce”. He had become an avid crawler – starting to get pretty good at standing up so long as he didn’t try to actually walk - which had reminded them that they needed to finish baby-proofing the house.

One week after putting in all the child-locks, Kaden had crawled over to Keith and plopped one of the outlet covers on his foot, wearing a proud grin and babbling excitedly at his success.

This had forced them to buy what Keith referred to as The Baby Dome – a playpen – to keep him corralled and safe while he played. Pidge had done her research on what would be their best option when selecting a playpen, and found that buying the kind that locked together while being easily taken apart by an adult with the comprehensive skills to know they could do so would be their best investment. They could link the pieces together to create a spacious circle of safety for their son while having the ability to take the gated pieces apart and use them to just block off certain danger areas once he got a little bigger. It also worked out because it was decently sized and made corralling the tiny tots easier for pay dates.

“Two babies go in,” Keith said in an ominous voice as Hunk had set little Raya inside with Kaden, “one baby comes out. These are the rules of Baby Dome.”

“Commence the battle!” Hunk declared dramatically, karate chopping at the air. The two babies settled beneath watched him curiously, both smiling.

“Hunk, I swear by all that is holy, no underground MMA fights using our daughter!” Lance called back with a scowl from the entryway to the kitchen, floral printed baby bag on one shoulder and his arms swamped with grocery bags.

“Aw, but Lance~!” Hunk started to playfully sing back.

“Don’t you ‘Aw, but Lance’ me! There is a reason I don’t want her going to daycare!” He barked back as Pidge approached to take some of the bags, snickering to herself at his overly venomous tone.

“You’re really that paranoid?” She teased.

“Considering the article I read last week? About that actually being a thing? Bet your bottom I’m concerned about it!” He huffed as they unloading everything on the counters.

From the kitchen, she could hear Keith and Hunk fussing about to get the kids comfortably settled in the front room while their parents prepared dinner, the familiar jingle of Bubble Guppies piercing her ears. They tried to get together at least two weeks for dinner and catching up – especially since they now had kids – and took turns on who hosted. Despite not being a fan of doing the clean-up, Pidge preferred when they met up at she and Keith’s home, since it was more convenient for Kaden. “You’re kidding, right?” She asked while putting two of the grocery bags in the fridge.

“Oh, I wish I was! I figured you would have heard about it on that breast feeding group you follow, though,” Her said, setting a bag of potatoes on the kitchen table before heading back to rummage through the cabinets for the potato peelers. Despite them both have a Kitchen Aid and the attachment for peeling fruits and vegetables, Lance insisted that it was better to peel the potatoes by hand. Something about the quality of the flavor or something.

“It’s actually a pretty crazy story; my cousin sent his kids there so we got to hear a lot about what all was going on. Lance was hounding them for all the details,” Hunk chimed as he and Keith cut through to the backyard.

“I need to know what kind of things to be on the lookout for, Hunk. That way I can be sure that Raya never gets involved in dangerous stuff like that,” The other huffed lightly, dragging the kitchen trash can over and setting it between Hunk chuckled and leaned over, pressing a small kiss to his forehead, before heading out to the back patio.

Pidge settled into the chair across from Lance and chuckled. “The steaks are done marinating but they’re still in the bags I put them in,” She said to Keith as he opened the door. She started opening the bag of potatoes and flashed Lance a curious glance. “So what was that all about? This underground MMA thing with toddlers?” She asked.

Lance blinked then nodded, grabbing a potato and starting to peel it as he started to tell the story.

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

Kaden Kogane was upset.

He glanced briefly at the television at the sound of singing and movement of little kids with colorful fishy tails before looking over towards the kitchen through the bars of his little play area. Mama and Dada had left him in here with his toys and a little girl – he knew he’d heard her name before but didn’t really remember – and then gone to do something else. He wasn’t really sure what, but he recognized the bags that the little girl’s dadas had brought with them. He had heard Mama and Dada call the place the “Grocery Store”. He liked going there because if he was well-behaved, Dada would take him to ride on the big plane while Mama paid for the food.

But that led him back to remembering that he was upset.

Right now, he was upset because he wasn’t getting what he was owed. Kaden had a certain amount of time he liked getting cuddles in a day. He figured that it was probably about eleven-bajillion and one hours of a day that he got cuddles from his Dada and Mama. He had not reached that quota that day, though, and it seemed that they would be busy for too long doing whatever they were doing. If that was true, he might not even get his cuddle quota met for the day at all. And he simply couldn’t let that be the case.

He grabbed the sides of his play area and hoisted himself upright, the little girl making a curious cooing noise at him from around the blanket corner she’d started chewing on. He chose to ignore her in lieu of implementing his current plan. He walked his way along the play pen so that he could peer into the kitchen and see Mama, settled at the table and talking with another adult. Dada was heading outside carrying a few bags in his hands. He looked up at the play pen and stared for a minute. He remembered watching Dada pull them apart and put them back together like his building block toys. Mama and Dada always told him he was a good, smart boy so he was sure he could figure out how to take it apart too.

It took him longer than he would have liked, and he nearly gave up at one point, but after a lot of struggling, he had forced the two linked parts to separate, leaving it cracked open so he could get out. He grinned excitedly and started wobbling his way out, feeling confident. He wobbled and fell back on his diapered tush, blinking and looking back towards the kitchen. Mama was still there talking. He huffed quietly, determination rushing through him, and focused on his goal.

He hoisted himself upright again, glanced down at his little feet, and started trying to take a few steps.

Kaden made it to the entryway to the kitchen before Lance noticed him, gaping while waving one hand at Pidge and pointing with the other. She peered over her shoulder before gasping in delight. Her little boy was walking! “Kaden,” She cooed warmly, scrambling out of her seat to kneel down with her hands out to him.

He giggled and continued his path, wobbling a little bit as he went. “Mama,” He said excitedly as he got closer. He teetered back, nearly falling with Pidge leaning closer to try and grab him, but he instead stepped back and regained his balance. He then scrambled forward into her arms excitedly, squealing as Pidge scooped him up into her arms and stood back up.

“My sweet little man! You’re so amazing, baby!” She beamed, twirling him around and giving him eskimo kisses. Lance chuckled as he watched them before his eyes widened, realizing that if Kaden was out, then the gates of the play pen were wide open for Raya to get out. He threw down the peeler and potato he’d been working on to rush into the other room. Pidge shifted Kaden a little closer to her and glanced outside. “You want to show Daddy your new moves?” She mused.

He bounced in her arms excitedly and she grinned widely. She walked over and quietly slid the door open, peering out. Keith was at the other end of the patio, chatting amicably with Hunk as they flipped the steaks. She then gently set Kaden down just in front of the small step the sliding door rested on, pointing him in Keith’s direction. Kaden looked up at her, a wide three-toothed grin that warmed her heart, before looking back over at his Daddy’s turned back and starting on his way.

Pidge stayed close by, watching him as he took each wobbly step and making sure he didn’t fall. He was grinning and giggling excitedly, getting louder and louder with the closer he got. He was nearly at Keith when his dad finally heard him and turned around curiously, gaping widely as he looked between Kaden and Pidge, crouched and slowly creeping a few paces behind him carefully. He then laughed and knelt down like she had before. “Come here, little guy! You got this!” He said, voice soft but excited.

In response, their son squealed and picked up his speed, stumbling right into his Daddy’s waiting arms. Hunk cooed softly at the sight. “So cute!” He mused before turning his attention to the grill, taking over the cooking while Keith coddled his boy.

Pidge stood upright and walked over as Keith played with Kaden, bringing him in for a quick peck before tossing him lightly in the air. She leaned over to press a small kiss to Keith’s cheek before letting her head rest on his shoulder and her hand rub up along his back. Keith settled Kaden against his hip, their matching indigo eyes sparkling in delight, before he looked over at Pidge. “Taught him a new trick, I see?” He teased.

She chuckled and shook her head without lifting up from his shoulder. “Not at all. He waddled his way out to me all by himself and then I figured he’d want to show you, too,” She hummed.

He blinked and looked down at her, brow creasing. “But he was in the play pen. How did he…?” He trailed before looking down at their son in awe.

“He figured out how to open it himself. So we’re going to have to retire the play pen early and just start blocking off areas. And then hope he doesn’t figure out how to undo that in less than a month,” She glanced over at Kaden, still grinning and giggling like mad. She reached over and gently stroked his cheek, smiling when he reached up and set his little hand on top of hers.

“I guess this is the end of Baby Dome,” Keith said, feigning disappointment. She snorted and bopped his hips with hers lightly.

“At least it had a beautiful last go, with one of the competitor’s tearing the Dome down with his bare hands,” She teased.

“A fitting end to such a brutal and intense facility,” Keith chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of Pidge’s head and then turning to press a kiss to Kaden’s forehead.

[hunter-the-sad-skeleton]

Spoiler!

Thanks Totally Not Me Since Whenever I Reblog Ask Game Stuff Nobody Tends To Send Stuff In!(No Name Mocking, They’re From A Country With Long Names Ya See!*Joke Joke Joke*) Going Under Read More Because I Couldn’t Find Just ONE Small Section I Wanted To Share!

Gianna got up after Hunter and Mae left, going to grab the mail, finding a letter with question marks riddled over it. Gianna’s eyes shrank, hiding the letter as she put the rest of the mail on the dining room table, returning to the couch with the letter, cutting it open and reading the contents.

“Greetings and salutations, Nightstorm! I noticed you were new here, so I saw it fit that I send this letter to you as a means of welcome!” Gianna rolled her eyes at the overly formal introduction. “But also as a means of warning.” Gianna did a double take, continuing to read.

“By the question marks and other clues, you probably know that I am The Riddler(Pleasure to meet you, Nightstorm!), so you know my schtick by now; riddles!” Gianna read on.

“So here is my first riddle to you; ‘keep your family close, and your ______ closer.’. Apologies about not making an appearance last night, villainy is quite busy work, you know! Hopefully soon we get to meet in person! -The Riddler.” Gianna finished reading and folded the letter back up, putting it in her backpack. She thought the riddle over in her head.

“Keep your family close, and your what closer….?” Gianna muttered to herself.

“I’d assume he means ‘enemies’.” A voice said. Gianna nodded, doing a double take and spinning to look at the window. “Sorry, I would have knocked, but I wasn’t sure if you were the only one home.” Batman apologized.

“Oh, it’s fine!” Gianna forgave. “Why did you come here in the first place, anyways?” Gianna asked.

“I saw Riddler drop by, so I wanted to make sure everything was okay.” Batman explained.

“Oh! That’s nice of you!” Gianna beamed.

“I wanted to make sure there was no trouble.” Batman shrugged.

Gianna nodded. “How’s the leg?” Batman asked.

“Oh! It’s fine!” Gianna nodded.

“That’s good. Just a sprain?” Batman asked.

Gianna nodded. “Yeah, just a small sprain. Not supposed to move much.” Gianna huffed. “Thanks for asking, though…!” Gianna smiled slightly.

“No trouble, Nightstorm.” Batman said.

“Wait, how did you-” Gianna started.

“Your height and build is the same. Besides, you spraining your leg at the same time as Nightstorm? Too scary of a coincidence.” Batman explained.

“Well, I can trust you to not tell anyone, yeah?” Gianna asked. Batman nodded.

“I know how important it is to keep your identity secret.” Batman nodded.

“Thanks…” Gianna smiled slightly.

Batman nodded. “Just be careful. The Riddler can be dangerous if he chooses.” Batman warned.

“Right, thanks.” Gianna acknowledged. Batman nodded.

Gianna hummed, reading over the letter again. “What do you think, Bats?” Gianna asked. No response. “Bats?” Gianna asked again, turning around to find he had left. “Huh….Guess I’m on my own.” Gianna said, shrugging. Gianna got up, hobbling to her backpack, considering her options. She eventually came to a conclusion, pulling out her Nightstorm suit, going to the bathroom to change before Mae and Hunter got back.

(Later)

Nightstorm grappled onto a lamp post, swinging up to a nearby roof, almost collapsing as she landed on her leg that she had sprained the night earlier. “Ow….!” Nightstorm winced. Nightstorm got up swiftly, limping to a good vantage point. “Anything going on…?” Nightstorm winced, kneeling on her good leg.

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” Batman asked. Nightstorm spun around, almost falling off where she was sitting.

“You scared me!” Nightstorm snapped.

“Apologies. I didn’t know how to announce my presence without startling you.” Batman said.

“NOT giving me a heart attack when I am sitting on the EDGE OF A VERY HIGH UP BUILDING?!?” Nightstorm squeaked.

“How?” Batman asked.

Nightstorm waved her hands around in the air. “Knocking on something?!” Nightstorm sputtered.

“I’ll remember that for later.” Batman said. “Anyways, about you resting, you should really stay off that leg. We don’t want it to get worse.” Batman said.

Nightstorm sighed, rolling her eyes. “I can take care of myself, Bats.” Nightstorm groaned.

“Are you sure?” Batman asked. “I won’t hold your hand if you don’t need it.” Batman said.

“Yes, I’m sure! I-Was that a joke about my height?” Nightstorm asked, offended.

“No, I’m just saying-” Batman started.

“I’M just saying that height isn’t everything, Batsy!!! Height isn’t indicative of your skill, Batsy!” Nightstorm growled.

“I wasn’t saying that it WAS, Nightstorm.” Batman scowled.

“Really? Are ya sure about that? Cause it REALLY sounds like it WAS what you were saying!!!” Nightstorm snapped.

“You’re twisting my words.” Batman frowned.

“Am I?!?” Nightstorm snapped.

“Yes. I was just asking if you wanted help.” Batman scowled.

“You phrased it as if you were talking to a child.” Nightstorm frowned.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Batman scolded.

“It sounded like it. Just because I’m younger than you DOESN’T mean I’m a little kid!!” Nightstorm growled.

“I don’t see you like that.” Batman frowned.

“It sure sounds like it you little-” Nightstorm started.

“Alright you two, break it up, no need to fight with each other!” Robin said, swinging over between the two.

“He started it.” Nightstorm said.

“And you didn’t need to continue it.” Batman lectured.

“Oh really?! Says he who reaches above five foot three and a HALF!!!” Nightstorm shrieked.

“No need to yell!” Robin said.

“Okay, how tall are you?” Nightstorm asked.

“Five four, why?” Robin asked.

“HALF AN INCH!!!!” Nightstorm snapped. “HALF AN INCH TALLER!!” Nightstorm squeaked.

“No need to get so worked up over it…!” Robin winced.

“Everyone’s taller than me except Mae….! I get looked down on like a kid…!!” Nightstorm groaned.

“Hey now,” Robin said, getting down to eye level. “That ain’t true!” Robin smiled.

Nightstorm frowned. “You’re proving my point.” Nightstorm grumbled. Nighstorm sighed, dragging her hands down her face. “Ugh…..! I don’t want to be seen as a kid…!!” Nightstorm sighed.

“I get that, but getting snappy at people over height doesn’t quite help your case.” Robin said.

“I know, but it just...Gets old after ten times.” Nightstorm grumbled.

“Just gotta tell people ya don’t like it is all.” Robin shrugged.

Nightstorm stumbled for words. “Buhduhbuh what do you THINK I do?!?” Nightstorm gawked.

“How do you tell them?” Robin asked, crossing his arms.

Nightstorm looked down, breaking eye contact and mumbling something. “I couldn’t hear that, would you mind repeating?” Robin asked gently.

“Snapping at them….” Nightstorm frowned, face heating up in embarrassment.

“And how do you think that makes them feel?” Robin asked.

“Not good…” Nightstorm frowned. Nightstorm shook her head. “Before snapping, I warn them to stop once or twice…!!” Nightstorm frowned.

“Do you?” Robin asked.

“Yes!!” Nightstorm pepped.

“Do you?” Robin repeated.

“Y...Yes…!” Nightstorm stuttered.

“Truly?” Robin asked.

“.........No……..I stay quiet about it….” Nightstorm said, ashamed.

“And how do you think they feel about you snapping at them out of the blue?” Robin asked.

“Besides, it’s never ‘good’ people!” Nightstorm objected.

“How do you think they feel about you snapping at them for no reason?” Robin repeated.

“........Not good….” Nightstorm mumbled. Nightstorm shook her head. “What is this, group therapy with Batman and Robin?!?” Nightstorm squeaked.

“No, not really, we just-” Robin started before getting cut off by a clunking sound. Nightstorm rushed to check it out.

“What is it?” Robin asked, peeking around Nightstorm. Nightstorm held up a tin can with a piece of paper attached to it.

Nightstorm plucked the paper off, reading over it. “A trail, a union, together tied. Come across me and you will find, you cannot change the course I'm on, without me you cannot travel on. What am I?” Nightstorm read.

“Huh….” Robin hummed.

“Railroad tracks.” Batman said.

“Why railroad tracks?” Robin asked.

“The old Gotham Railroad Tracks…!” Nightstorm and Batman said in unison.

“But why would Riddler go there?” Batman asked.

“Suddenly took an interest in trains or history?” Nightstorm shrugged.

“Why not go take a look?” Robin asked.

“Yeah, that would be our best bet.” Batman nodded.

“See ya there.” Nightstorm said, pulling out her grappling hook.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride there?” Batman asked.

“Nah, no thanks. I prefer to swing; the wind feels nice on the face, despite the mask!” Nightstorm declined. Batman shrugged.

“Suit yourself.” Batman said, walking off.

(At the railroad tracks.)

“Another piece of paper…!” Nightstorm said, dropping down from the rooftops and snatching up the small piece of paper.

“What’s it say?” Robin asked.

“It says….” Nightstorm hummed, before gaining a confused expression.

“What is it?” Robin asked, confused.

“I sound like ‘wrap’, but start with the letter of a beverage. What am I?” Nightstorm read.

“Coffeerap?” Robin said, confused.

Nightstorm read it over again, eyes shrinking again as she registered. “Tea.” Nightstorm said, fear creeping into her tone.

“What?” Robin asked.

“Tea wrap?” Batman said, registering what it meant soon.

“It’s a trap!!!” Nightstorm said in a panic before everyone was tapped in some form of holding.

“How right you are, Nightstorm~!” A Voice chimed.

“Who’s there?!” Nightstorm called, looking around.

“That is indeed the question, my dear~!” The voice hummed.

“Nygma.” Batman scowled.

“Right you are, Batman~! But also not, seeing as Nygma is a shadow now, and The Riddler has taken front stage~!” The Riddler laughed.

“Wait...Nygma...Like...Edward Nygma?” Nightstorm asked.

“Ah! So you’ve heard of me~?” Riddler asked.

“Well, yeah, your puzzle games are really good! Even back home!” Nightstorm gawked.

“I’m glad to hear~!” Riddler laughed.

Nightstorm shook her head. “No matter, why are you stealing so much metal?!” Nightstorm demanded.

“Oh, Batman! You may have to replace your little songbird with this one~!” Riddler joked, patting Nightstorm on the head. “SHE asks all the important questions~!” Riddler smiled smugly.

“Don’t patronize me.” Nightstorm bit back. Riddler pulled back as though just bit.

“Charming little one, isn’t she?” Riddler sneered.

“I’m not little!!! Everyone keeps saying I’m little, but five foot three and a half is not little!!!” Nightstorm snapped.

“Oh! That little half inch is keeping you from the same height as the little Songbird~! How adorable~!” The Riddler taunted.

“I’ll bite!!! Don’t think I won’t!!!” Nightstorm threatened.

“Nightstorm, calm down. Threats won’t get us out of this.” Batman said.

“It makes me feel good!!” Nightstorm snapped.

“My my, Nightstorm~! Are you sure you aren’t a villain~? You fit THAT bill better~!” Riddler hummed.

“No! I’m NOTHING like you, coward!” Nightstorm growled.

“Nightstorm, CALM. DOWN.” Batman warned.

“If you were two more in number, you could have her be the dog of your team.” Riddler grimaced.

“Hey!!! I’m not-” Nightstorm started.

“CALM. DOWN.” Batman growled. Nightstorm immediately fell dead silent.

“Oh my! Seems someone hates getting people upset!” Riddler teased.

“Listen, Nygma-Riddler-whatever your name is now-We can get you the help you need.” Batman said.

“No.” Riddler started.

“Who needs help anyways? Too much effort.” Riddler and Nightstorm said in unison. Both were surprised.

“You too?” Riddler asked.

“I’m supposed to be the one with poor communication skills!” Nightstorm yelped.

Riddler shook his head. “We’re getting off track. Nightstorm, you and I haven’t ‘properly’ met before, so allow me to introduce myself~!” Riddle hummed. “I am the Riddler; one of Batman’s greatest-” Riddler started.

“And least common.” Batman added.

“-Adversaries.” Riddler finished, frowning.