#me kicking down the door: HEY I WAS TAGGED IN THIS IN EARLY DECEMBER BUT SHHH IM CATCHING UP@@@@

[stargirl-in-dilfspace]

Look After You (Christmas Fic) - Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader

[moodboard for moodboard’s sake]

Summary: It’s the first time you’ve had Frankie home for the entire month of December, and you have some exciting news for him.

content/warnings: fluff, established relationship, reader & frankie are married, they have a daughter, girl dad frankie, classic christmas (no sad beige bullshit here), reader is pregnant, pregnancy announcement, their daughter is rambunctious & sweet, daughter is named Valentina (Val for short), Santiago appearance, alcohol mention (santi and frank have a beer lol), these two are so sweet you wanna throw up [2k-ish words]

a/n: okay first fic on tumblr, this feels weird. and yeah it’s wayyyy too early for Christmas but i hate that it’s snowing where i am and im pretending im happy about it (aka writing fics about Christmas) let me know what you think!!! <3

Christmas had stopped being a time to relax a long time ago. Even more so once you had your daughter. And your husband. But, Frankie was plenty of help, this evening, among many others, he’d offered to completely take over the bedtime duties for Valentina, that you normally split 50/50, so you could have some time to yourself, which you opted to wrap gifts.

It was the 23rd, and the wrapping was a little late admittedly. He’d offered everything under the sun, a hot bath, a home cooked meal, etc. You’d chosen to wrap gifts. This was the first year you got to spend the entire month with him. And Val was three. You settled down on your bed, with a bunch of gift bags, wrapping paper and a few bows. The gifts you planned for your daughter on your left, and a few for your husband on the right.

By 7 o’clock, you’d wrapped everything. Gift tags were what you had left. In your hand writing, you started to write your first name. On your daughter’s gift. You silently laughed at yourself, trying again, with a different tag, addressing it to Val, from Mama.

You’d never get used to it in the best of ways.

You smiled at the tag, feeling stupid. Stupidly happy. The amount of joy that children got out of Christmas, would last forever, and seeing the joy from your daughter made all the work worth it.

Then you got down to your husband’s little stack. A few useful items he’d asked for, a book he’d wanted, and a framed photo of the two of you. One from the day you told him you were pregnant with Val. Taken on a digital camera, he’s smiling wide, genuinely, while you press a kiss to his cheek. He had been trying to find time to get all the photos printed off the camera and frame some, specifically that one to put on his nightstand. You wrapped that last.

Cause that wasn’t the only part of the gift. You had a letter, and more importantly, a pregnancy test.

A positive pregnancy test.

You looked at it for a moment, you only found out a few days ago, and decided you’d surprise him on Christmas Eve, with the photo.

A swift knock was put on the bedroom door, to which you hid everything at your side, throwing your sweater over it. “Francisco Morales if you walk in here you may not live to see Christmas Day.” You call out, in a joking tone, as the door cracked open.

“Hey there, Mrs. Catfish.” You place the voice immediately. Santiago. “Heard you were wrapping gifts in here?”

“Yeah, you’re safe.” You chuckle lightly, standing up off the bed to hug him as he stepped in to greet you. “What’re you doing here?” You wrap your arms around him with a smile on your face.

“Holy…shit.” You furrow your brows, hearing his tone as you pull back, following his gaze. Fuck. “Looks like it’s Mama Fish of two.” He chuckled, looking back at you with a smile before you shushed him quickly.

He got a kick out of the nickname he’d come up with when he’d found out about Val.

“Yeah, looks like it.” You smile, the reality kicking in a little. “Frankie’s supposed to find out Christmas Eve so keep it zipped.” He chuckles again, taking it to heart.

“How far along?” He asks as you made an effort to finish putting everything neatly into its little box, and labeling it with his name.

“Four weeks. Only found out on the 19th.” You say quietly, stuffing presents into the closet, behind some storage boxes, stacking a few spare blankets over it for good measure.

“Damn.”

“Don’t even do the math, Santiago.” You warn with a fake scowl.

“Guess me taking Val for the weekend paid off.” He jokes as you shoot him a look, opening the door and leading him back out into the hall to the living room to find Frankie.

The Christmas lights on the tree were plugged in, blues, red, purples, oranges, greens, yellows…you’d refused to give in to the sad beige trends, you wanted your daughter to have the Christmas you did. Full of life and color, and strange ornaments with memories and crafts and photos. Frankie was in the kitchen in the fridge, digging for drinks.

“You found her?” He calls to Santi, to which he replies with a simple “yep.” “Either of you want a beer?” He asks, Santi gave you a look to which you held up a finger in warning.

“No, honey, just water for me.” You reply, and he came into the living room a few moments later, two beers and a water. You thanked him and smiled, sitting down next to him on the couch while Santiago sat in one of your armchairs.

You spent the rest of the evening talking, catching up and laughing. Your daughter slept like a rock, and eventually you checked on her, making sure she actually was asleep. She was the spitting image of both of you, snoring softly. Your pride and joy, you never thought any man would ever make you feel safe and loved enough to have a child, a home.

The last two weeks, you’d been watching Christmas movies with Val and Frankie, curled up on the couch, as she got all excited about Christmas, and winter, and presents.

Last night, she’d begged to make cookies she’d found in an old cookbook of yours. Gingerbread cookies the three of you decorated to look like each other, accompanying the little house she decorated. She passed out from a sugar high on the couch between you and Frankie at only 6 in the evening. A miracle, for a girl like her. He’d talked to you about how much he loved the two of you, quietly playing with your hair, for almost an hour before you both fell asleep.

By the time Santiago left, you both were tired, like average toddler parents were. You drag a blanket from the back of the couch, pulling it up and over the two of you, curling up with him for a minute.

“Good day?” Frankie asks, like clockwork each night he wanted to hear what you had to say. His eyes reflect the Christmas lights, and somehow every ounce of admiration and love he held for you.

“Good day. Got all the presents wrapped.”

“I’m glad, all ready for Christmas?” He rubbs your arm, pulling you closer.

“Very. You?” You look up at him, hand finding his soft brown curls, you see him wear more frequently now. Standard Oil practically owned his head of hair until you came along and convinced him the curls and little grays were perfect to you.

“I think so. Wrapped your gifts last week.” He grins down at you, hand falling at your waist, fingertips grazing your back and pulling you just a bit closer. You smile at him, God, you love him. His eyes shine a little more in the light of the tree, pulling you up to kiss him sweetly, your hand pressed gently to the side of his face.

“I love you.” You murmur, reaching just a bit farther up to press a kiss to the tip his nose, one of many things you adore about him.

“I love you, hun.” He kisses your cheek in return, letting you rest on his shoulder, just against his neck. You play with the hem of his shirt, yawning slightly. “How’s a hot shower and bed sound?” He asks with a slight chuckle, you can feel it deep in his chest, with his heartbeat. The one he knows beats just for you.

By the next evening, dinner is served, chicken (considering your daughter won’t touch turkey), mashed potatoes (her favorite), and green beans (cause somebody needed her greens.)

“Mama, do we get to open presents tonight?” Your daughter asks, her spoon spinning around in her potatoes.

“Only one, since Santa hasn’t come yet, sweetheart.” You grin, watching her take another bite, smiling at you and Frankie.

“Do you think I’ll be able to hear the reindeer? When he’s on the roof? Cause I can’t see Santa?” Val asks, pulling her hair out of the little ponytail done by Frankie from earlier when she’d “helped” him outside shovel the snow on the sidewalk, messy from her little hat.

“I don’t know about that…but I heard Santa has been leaving behind something extra special if we leave him some milk and cookies tonight.” Frankie smiles, explaining to his daughter what she could expect if she tried to stay in her bed and sleep.

“Hmm…I think we should get to bed soon, Val cause Uncle Santi called before dinner and told me Santa had already come to his house.” You hum like it's nothing, and your daughter shoots up, finishing the remainder of her plate, and Frankie smiles at you.

“Can we go get my pjs? And brush my teeth? I wanna go to bed!” Val forgets she could even have one present tonight.

She takes Frankie’s hand, tugging it a little, watching you for approval. She drags both of you, through her bedtime routine like you usually have to do for her. You kiss her goodnight, and tell her Christmas will be there the sooner she goes to sleep, and that you love her. You lean on the doorframe, watching Frankie talk to her, telling her goodnight and that he loves her.

Your hand finds your abdomen without really thinking. Jesus Christ do you love him, and God are you glad to be the one having his children.

You quickly tuck both hands in the pockets of your jeans as he turns to you, walking out with you. He takes your hand, leading you back to the living room.

“I’ve got something for you.” You say softly, he presses a kiss to your head. You reach under the couch, as you’d hidden it earlier in the day, and he chuckles a little. You hand him the box and settle with your legs over his lap, he brushes your knees with his free hand. He looks at you to see if it’s okay to open, his hands making the box look much smaller than it was. You nod, encouraging him a little, a small smile on your lips.

He shakes off the top, pushing back the wrapping and looking at you, a large grin on his face, taking up the photo frame, setting the box beside him. He pulls you in tightly, still holding the framed photo. “I’ve been meaning to do this, this is amazing, thank you-”

“Frankie, I’d take another look in the box before you thank me, honey.” You joke slightly, he lets go of you, giving you a confused look, taking the box back up, taking back some more of the wrapping, he looks back up at you, his eyes wide, and you don’t even know how his smile got better. He wraps you up in his arms again, pulling you up to hold you as close as he can.

You’re every good piece of him, you’re the one thing he could ever dream to have.

“We’re having another baby!” He’s impossibly happy, excited and holding you tight, kissing you repeatedly before you can even say another word. “I’m a dad, again…” He lets you go a little to look at you, glancing down at your stomach, and back to your eyes. “Thank you…”

Those big, brown eyes and that smile, that got you here in the first place.

You’re smiling, blushing with how excited he is. He pulls you back in, once again, elated, with little tears at the corner of his eye, holding you close. The only place he wants to be.

“I- I’m only four weeks. Only found out a few days ago, just wanted to surprise you.” You stumble over your words, and he kisses the side of your face, still holding you but loose, so you could breathe, and he could look at you.

“It’s amazing. It’s more than amazing, it’s the best fucking Christmas gift.” He grins at you, hands rubbing your arms up and down as if to warm you. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Francisco.” You just about melt into his arms, his comfort the same as a blanket while it snowed outside.

He made you happier than you could’ve ever believed you deserved, let alone believed you would find. And yet, he reminded you somehow everyday of how much he didn’t deserve you.

[lichsent]

TAGGED: @breselin​ Thank U I’m So Damn Organized TAGGING: listen man im like 5 years late akskskssk

LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE.

NAME.          mannimarco EYE COLOUR.           initially a honey gold but after his “ascension”, an icy blue that looks almost white. HAIR STYLE/COLOUR.           an intense ghost white. somewhat long, ending at his shoulder blades while stray locks frame the front of his face. HEIGHT.           6'6′’ CLOTHING STYLE.           he hardly changes his clothing style, so it’s usually the same. this consists of a mixture of armor and cloth, styled after old-styled daedric armor that signals his once-affiliation with molag bal with little homages to his altmer culture. he adorns himself in dark colors, preferring many shades of black with accents of blues and greys. occasionally he will wear white, usually with the intention to stain it later as a sort of “show” of his powers’ aftermath. BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE.           his eyes are the first thing people tend to notice. 

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

YOUR FEARS.           he hardly has any fears. the closest to this feeling would be discomfort towards past events (such as involving his past partner and molag bal’s treatment of him.) and the concept of losing control. he once had the occasional night terror of being totally and utterly alone, but he’s uncomfortable with considering this as a fear. YOUR GUILTY PLEASURE.           nothing is... exactly a guilty pleasure to mannimarco. intimacy, perhaps? YOUR BIGGEST PET PEEVE.           self-righteousness. people that lack goals. those that try to “stand up” to him but lack the prowess to properly back their selves up. he doesn’t even offer these sorts a second glance, merely smiling bitterly at them as a warning before proceeding further. YOUR AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE.           retain control. he still plays with the idea of ascending to becoming a daedric prince himself but has since dropped taking this idea as seriously after his resurrection.

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP .           hard to say. it’s all a cluster within his mind as he thinks too much/ THINK ABOUT MOST .           too much yet too little at the same time to say. THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED .           depending on the circumstances, it is either sephiroth or hardly anything at all. he prefers to clear his mind before heading to bed. WHAT THE BEST QUALITY IS .           his odd charisma and ambition. he’s capable of reeling others over to his side without much persuasion, but it’s entirely possible for him to persuade others if necessary. he also refuses to accept defeat, always parsing through multiple routes and potentials within his head.

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES.           single. TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED.           both. respected. BEAUTY OR BRAINS.           brains. DOGS OR CATS.           no preference. if he had to pick, cats.

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU…

LIE.           how do you get through life if you have not lied at least once? BELIEVE IN YOURSELF .           yes, unconditionally. BELIEVE IN LOVE.           he’s uncomfortable with this question. WANT SOMEONE.           yes, but he’ll never say it out loud unless he’s asked.

LAYER SIX: EVER BEEN…

BEEN ON STAGE.           yes, but only because his minions see his throne as a stage and he begrudgingly goes along with this idea. DONE DRUGS.           no. CHANGED WHO YOU WERE TO FIT IN.           only on the surface in order to climb up the social ladder or increase his chances of attaining true power.

LAYER SEVEN: FAVORITES

FAVORITE COLOR.           black. he’s grown somewhat accustomed to blue thanks to a certain brat man, though. FAVORITE ANIMAL.           he’s always been a fan of gryphons, those native to summerset. FAVORITE MOVIE.           movies hardly interest him, and he’ll most likely just watch whatever is required of him. FAVORITE GAME.           chess.

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

DAY YOUR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE.           inapplicable. he doesn’t speak of it nor does anyone know of it. HOW OLD WILL YOU BE.           he doesn’t reveal his age to anyone, and the most that is known is that he will be, at least, in his thousands. AGE YOU LOST YOUR VIRGINITY.           when he was in his late forties to early fifties. DOES AGE MATTER.           yes, always. he uses age as a determinant of one’s “experience” and “intelligence” in many scenarios.

LAYER NINE: IN A PERSON

BEST PERSONALITY .           independence. he can overlook a lot of things in a person as long as they show strong and stalwart independence, because he does not wish to engage in babysitting a, what he personally sees as, child. BEST EYE COLOR .           it does not matter. BEST HAIR COLOR .           no preference on color. he just prefers for something to grab onto. BEST THING TO DO WITH A PARTNER .           wordless evenings with sincere actions sprinkled throughout. he does not like to talk during these moments as he’s concerned that it will crumble the moment he opens his mouth.

LAYER TEN: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I LOVE.           sparingly. I FEEL.           greedily, hungrily, ravenously. cruelly. I HIDE.           artfully. I MISS.           rarely, but it is somewhat unavoidable. I WISH.           for nothing but to be the last.

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖      

Chapter 36 - December Sacrifice.

Episode 3. *Across town, someone was having a less relaxed time* Dalton: *He nearly fell into the house as he unlocked the front door, managing to drop a couple of books and a bag of something on the ground, before nearly stumbling over it all* SHIT! Malou: *She looked at him with a raised eyebrow from her spot on the couch, and quickly sat up* Do you need help with that? Dalton: No *he sighed heavily* I've been like this the whole fucking day! I'm all over the place! I just feel like everything is slipping through my fingers! I broke two cups already, I missed a deadline, AGAIN! I nearly ran out in front of a car, I stepped into a puddle, and my parents called me about 30 minutes ago, and reminded me that my ex and I were invited for dinner tonight! And I'm so stressed out I had forgotten all about it, and now I can't cancel cause dinner is already cooking! Malou: *She quickly got up and rushed towards him, scooping everything up in her arms* Dalton... sit down! *she nodded at the couch* You can barely breathe right now. Dalton: I'd love to sit down, Malou! But honestly, I don't even have time for that! I have to somehow wrap up these books, it's early Christmas gifts, or they were supposed to be! I haven't even showered yet and I need to be out of the door in 20 minutes MAX! Preferably 15! Malou: *She sighed soft* Sit. Down. I'll wrap the books, and I'm sure your parents would rather having an alive less clean son, than a clean dead one who stressed himself into a heart attack! Dalton: *He sighed soft and kicked his shoes off, dragging his feet to the couch, then threw himself on it*

Malou: Good, thank you *she smiled warmly* Just tell me how to wrap them, please.

Dalton: The two big one’s for mum, the other one is for my dad.

Malou: And should I put tags on them?

Dalton: ........... no, just some paper, that would be fine.

Malou: Okay *she nodded lightly and headed upstairs, quickly finding her Christmas papers, ribbons and other gift wrapping stuff. She quick but firmly wrapped the books, making sure everything was neat and pretty, just the way she liked it. She had always loved to wrap gifts, and make them look as pretty and inviting as possible. To her it had always been half the fun of giving gifts. She decorated the wrapped books with silky ribbons, and each got a small fresh pine twig, for extra festive flair. When she was done, she found a couple nice gift bags in her stash and slipped the books into each. She then walked back downstairs, placing the gift bags in front of Dalton on the table.* How's that? Only took 5 minutes.

Dalton: *He looked at her surprised and sat up, peeking into the bags.* How did you do all THAT in such a short time? They look incredible! I don't think they have ever gotten such nicely wrapped gifts from me before! *He chuckled* not even professionally wrapped! They're always way over the top! You made them look so elegant and warm. Very festive, yet simple.

Malou: *She smiled soft* Thank you, I'm glad you like them.

Dalton: You really have a flair for anything creative, don't you?

Malou: *She chuckled lightly* what's up with the flattery?

Dalton: *He sighed deep* Please come with me? I can't deal with dinner right now on my own, having to answer all the questions. If you're there, it's a nice distraction from what else will easily be the main subject. And we already talked about you meeting them anyway.... please? *He looked at her with the cutest puppy eyes*

Malou: *Feeling all fuzzy and warm inside* I don't know, Dalton...I don't like the idea of showing up unannounced, and I know very little of them. Having to eat dinner with them the first time I meet them...*she shivered* Uuuh! I don't know! I'm not even dressed for something like that! *She looked down herself, just wearing the usual old flannel shirt*

Dalton: You look fine!

Malou: Absolutely no! *she chuckled soft*

Dalton: Hey! Look at me! Someone told me not to shower! And I think that someone should support me now and show up with me unshowered too! *he grinned cheekily*

Malou: Oh no no no! Don't look at me like that! *She chuckled warmly*

Dalton: *He grinned even wider* Come on! Just a quick dinner and we're out! I'll pay you!

Malou: *She laughed amused* And what do you have to offer as payment?

Dalton: Whatever you want... name your price!

Malou: *She squinted her eyes* Anything?

Dalton: A-ny-thing *he nodded slow and kept grinning*

Malou: *She squinted a bit more* ..... fine! But I WILL run upstairs and at the very least throw something on that isn't stained, and brush my hair!

Dalton: 10 minutes!

Malou: I thought you already learned I only need 5! *she pointed her tongue at him, the quickly ran upstairs*

Dalton: You forgot to tell me what payment you want *he yelled after her and chuckled*

Malou: Oh you're definitely going to pay! I'll figure something out! *she yelled back and rushed into her room, slamming her door after her* Shitshitshitshitshit!!!! *She stormed to her closet* Okay, no time to impress, just pick a safe choice, throw on a bit of mascara and some perfume, grab a brush and get out of here! *She quickly found a casual yet pretty sweater, a pair of nice jeans, a necklace and put it all on. She quickly got both concealer and mascara on, brushed her hair, and even made a quick tooth brushing before quickly spritzing a bit of perfume on, rushing out the bathroom door* SHIT! *She quickly rushed back in, grabbed a male perfume and hurried down the stairs* How's the time?

Dalton *He chuckled lightly and got up, grabbed the bags and walked over to the front door* You're just fine, we still have approximately 4 minutes to get our overcoats on and head out the door, I think we will make it *he chuckled lightly* Cab will be here in a couple minutes. I already called.

Malou: Phew! *she chuckled lightly* Ah! *she reached the male perfume to Dalton* as a cover for the missing shower!

Dalton: *He smiled bright and chuckled* What would I do without you?

Malou: She chuckled shyly and shook her head* you know, I ask myself daily!

Dalton: *He burst out a light chuckle and grabbed the perfume, quickly spraying some on, then placing the bottle on the hallway bench, grabbing his boots* Thank you, and thank you for coming, you look really nice.

Malou: *She shrugged lightly* Better than before at least *she took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves and grabbed her boots*

Dalton: It will be fine. They are my parents. They raised me. Which means they can't be THAT bad.

Malou: Is this supposed to help me? *she chuckled nervously*

Dalton: Well that's what I was aiming for *he chuckled lightly* they're very much like me. Down to earth, enjoys music, drinks a lot of wine.

Malou: *She shook her head lightly and grabbed her jacket, quickly getting it on*

Dalton: Ready? *he asked as he got his jacket on*

Malou: Mh-hm... as ready as I'm going to be *she said in a nervous voice, while binding her scarf*

Dalton: *he nodded soft* You'll do perfectly fine, I promise.

Malou: *She took another deep breath, nodding nervously*

Dalton: Hey *he smiled soft* Is it too much? .... you don't have to come if *he suddenly got interrupted by the taxi honking on the street*

Malou: It's okay.

Dalton: Are you sure? *he smiled soft and concerned* I don't want you to feel overwhelmed or forced.

Malou: I don't feel forced... and I'm gonna be overwhelmed and scared no matter when I get to meet them... this way might actually be the best one... cause if I had known beforehand I would have worried for days or weeks!

Dalton: *He nodded lightly* They're nice, and you don't have to act a certain way, they don't put high expectations on people, trust me, they are just as easy going as me... more or less *he chuckled lightly* okay I'm far worse, but they are still very down to earth

Malou: *She shook her head lightly but couldn't help but chuckle* let's just go before I chicken out!

Dalton: *He nodded confirming and grabbed the gift bags, opening the door*

Malou: Wait! *she quickly grabbed another scarf and wrapped it loosely around his neck*

Dalton: *He smiled warmly and chuckled lightly* You're very thoughtful, thank you.

Malou: *She nodded lightly and shy* Go on before the taxi honks again, I'll lock.

*As they got out of the cab, she looked nervous at the big house*

Dalton: It's alright *he smiled at her warmly as he stopped next to her* You'll do just fine. You'll see! I believe in you! *He smiled soft* Come on.

Malou: *She nodded lightly and took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves*

Dalton: *As they walked up to the house, he walked straight in, quickly kicking his shoes off* Hey! Mum! Dad! Where are you guys? *He yelled loudly*

Malou: *She looked a bit nervous around, as she quickly kicked off her shoes was well, not wanting to stand and fiddle with that, while everyone could be looking at her.*

Dalton: MUM?!?? *He chuckled lightly and took his jacket off, hanging it on the wall, then smiled soft at Malou* can I take your coat?

Malou: *She blushed lightly and quickly let her jacket slide off, handing it to Dalton* Thank you.

Dalton: *He grabbed the coat* They must be in the kitchen, judging by the smell, let's go find them.

Malou: *She followed Dalton quickly, observing the beautiful house lightly as they made their way through it, the smell of delicious food only growing stronger*

Dalton: Mum! *He chuckled lightly as they walked into the kitchen* You didn't hear us?

Una: Oh! I didn't see you guys! *she quickly turned around, then looked a bit confused as she spotted Malou* Oh you brought a friend instead of-

Dalton: Yeah, and gifts *he quickly handed her the gift bag, to try to skip past the slightly awkward situation* There's one for you and one for dad!

Una: Oh! *she chuckled warmly and quickly hugged her son* Thank you darling, you shouldn't have! *he voice remaining welcoming, cheerful and warm*

Dalton: *He smiled a bit forced at her* Malou wrapped them.

Una: Oh! You're Malou! *her smile getting wider as she clearly recognized the name*

Malou: *She smiled nervously, yet relieved that there seemed to be some sort of recognition, a sign that Dalton at the very least had mentioned her before*

Una: *She quickly handed the stirring spoon to Dalton and dried her hands in a towel* Stir the gravy, will you? *She quickly stepped towards Malou and reached out her hand* I'm Una, it's very nice to meet you, Malou!

Malou: *She smiled as polite as possible* It's very nice to meet you too.

Una: I had imagined you completely different, so I apologize for my surprise.

Malou: *She chuckled nervously* that's okay, I hope I don't disappoint?

Una: No, not at all my dear, not at all! *she smiled warmly* My husband, James, is in the garden, he likes to spend his time out there before dinner on most days *she looked back at Dalton for a brief moment, then returned to Malou*  Would you please *she grabbed a bottle from a table next to her, pouring some in a glass* take this to him and tell him dinner will be done in 10 minutes? *She smiled soft and nodded towards Dalton*

Dalton: Mum, I'm right here! *he chuckled soft and shook his head, then looked at Malou* You don't have to. I mean, he doesn't bite... but she's just trying to get you out of the kitchen so she can interrogate me... it's fine, Malou knows the gist of it all, I don't mind

Malou: It's fine *she smiled politely at Una and picked up the glass*

Una: And what will you drink my dear?

Malou: Another wine would be nice, thank you.

Una: Oh she's so polite, Dalton *she smiled brightly* you should bring more people like her home *she glared soft at her son, chuckling lightly as she quickly poured another glass for Malou. Just through the dining room there *she nodded ahead of them* you'll find the garden door easily.

Dalton: Really, you don't have to *he smiled apologizing*

Malou: *She shook her head lightly* It's okay, I have wine.

Una: *She chuckled warmly* And she has spirit too!

Malou: *She chuckled lightly and quickly left the room, instantly spotting the garden door as she stepped into the dining room, taking a deep breath. So far so good. Una seemed very friendly, and oddly enough Malou wasn't as nervous as she had imagined. So she quickly made her way to the door, and slipped out into the garden*

Dalton: She does *he smiled soft, still looking in the direction Malou had disappeared*

Una: *Observing her son, then grabbed the spoon* Don't burn my gravy now!

Dalton: what? *He looked back at her questioning.

Una: So tell me... what's going on with you and-

Malou: *She spotted Dalton's dad quickly and walked towards him, holding both glasses up in a greeting manner as she stopped in front of him* Malou.. I brought wine.

James: *He chuckled surprised and grabbed the glass she held towards him* A young, beautiful woman, bringing me wine... Christmas certainly comes early this year! *He reached his hand out, greeting her with a firm handshake* I'm James. Quite a nice hand shake you got there, firm, determined.

Malou: Thank you *she smiled warmly* A grand uncle taught me. As he said, if you want to give someone your hand, you gotta mean it. There's no reason to offer a wet news paper, no one wants to shake hands with that. Keep it firm, confident, and keep eye contact.

James: That is very true *he nodded agreeing* I suppose you're Dalton's new friend?

Malou: Yes *she smiled softly and sipped her wine, trying to calm her nerves further, although James already seemed to be her cup of tea*

James: and since you're here with wine, I assume that means my wife has kidnapped the boy for a talk?

Malou: *She nodded lightly* She says dinner will be ready in 10 minutes.

James: Ah! Just time enough to grill him with the duck!

Malou: *She chuckled warmly*

James: Cheers!

Malou: Cheers *she smiled friendly as she cheered her glass against his, and sipped her wine again* So duck?

James: Yes... do you like duck?

Malou: I absolutely love it! But it's been too long since I last had it!

James: What? They don't serve ducks where you're from?

Malou: *She chuckled warmly* Oh yes they do. But not where I ended up.

James: I welcome you back to life then! *he smiled warmly and cheered her glass*

Malou: *She chuckled warmly and sipped her glass* Thank you, James.

[misslilli]

Hope you guys are not too busy with Fictober 😄 thank you, as always, for your amazing feedback!

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 26 - A Pivotal Peppermint Mocha

[ DS ]

He respects my wishes, of course he does, and I don’t see him before or after Thanksgiving break, except for a few glimpses from afar, across the school yard or at the farmer’s market. As time passes, each time I see him, it gets less and less painful and my funk begins to lift. My kids at school breathe a sigh of relief and my friends stop tiptoeing around me. The nights get easier, too, and I manage at least a few hours of shut-eye.

I just got home from school, a little earlier than usual and I can hear the girls chatting and laughing in the kitchen.

“…and then Squirrel rolled her eyes and said: ‘But Felix, that’s impossible, no-one can stuff 100 marshmallows into their mouth, not even your dad!’ I get such a kick out of this kid, he insisted over and over again that Moose could do it and he’ll prove it to her. You should’ve seen the exasperated look on Squirrel’s face!”

What the hell? That conversation is eerily familiar because I’ve just had it this morning at recess. Why the fuck are they referring to us as Moose and Squirrel?

They jump about a mile as I step into the kitchen, guilty looks plastered all over their faces. Sarah, who just told the story, starts to speak first. “Uuuh.. hey D, you’re home early…” My hands on my hips, I give them each a long, hard stare.

“Who. The Fuck. Are Moose and Squirrel?” They share a look I can’t decipher and Holly pulls out a chair.

“You better sit down for this, D.” I do as I’m told and glance around the table, waiting for someone to start explaining what’s going on.

Sarah and Holly both make it clear by silently staring at Alex, the calm one of our group, the one they trust can explain in a way I won’t kick their asses afterwards.

Alex folds her hands in front of her and takes a deep breath. “Okay. I’d like to preface this with stating that everything we did was done with love and because we care about you and your happiness.” ‘Oh goody, I can’t wait to see where this is going…’

“We’ve been talking about Moo- Mulder a lot at our Friday night dinners and we could tell that you liked him. When nothing happened and no-one made the first move, we thought we’d give fate little pushes in the right direction.” I stare at her, starting to panic.

“Oh God, what did you do? Is anyone else in on this thing? Is he in on this whole thing?”

“No, no, no-one knows except for us. And Miss Hannigan, but only because we needed her help with the costumes and we swore her to secrecy.” I snort, you can’t swear the town gossip to secrecy.

“So the Halloween costume was your doing? That we went to the town fair in a couple’s costume?” Alex nods. “What else?”

“Just little things, I swear. Remember when we were at the Farmer’s Market and we all had various errands to run? We saw Felix and Mulder were heading over, so we scattered to give you some alone time.” Which led to our first quasi-semi-let’s not call it a date-date, yes I remember.

“So what’s the Moose and Squirrel business then?”

“Well, since it was all a secret operation, we needed codenames. Sarah came up with a play on the first letters of your last names and we thought it was cute, especially since there’s such a big height difference between these characters too. This was how Operation: Bullwinkle was born. Of course, after the basketball fiasco, we called it off… are you mad, D?” I sit in silence for a while, taking in the things my friends came up with to set Mulder and I up.

They eye me anxiously, trying to gauge my reaction and if they should run for cover right about now.

“No, I’m not mad. It was actually a really clever secret operation and I’m kind of sad it didn’t work out the way we all wanted.” Holly lifts her shoulders, relieved that I understood that they didn’t mean to cause any harm.

“Never say never, D.”

—————

[ FM ]

My mom has taken Felix with her while she’s out grocery shopping, which gives me a good part of the afternoon to leave the house and roam the streets. A good way to clear my head. It’s the first week of December, but New England hasn’t been graced with snow yet, just a misty cold that seeps into your coat and straight through to your bones.

My hands are freezing because I forgot to take my gloves, so when the green logo of the local Starbucks catches my eye, I go in to warm up and get a cup of coffee.

Usually, I avoid this place like the plague, I don’t possess the fast decision making skills required to choose from the 999 combinations, just to have a cup of freakishly overpriced coffee.

I can barely get through the door, the place is jam packed and soon, I can smell why. Peppermint Mocha season starts today. The prospect of standing in line for hours almost makes me turn back, but something stops me from leaving.

Most of the people are holding a cup in their hands gleefully already, so I push my way through the crowd to where the line starts. When I reach it, I find myself dumbly staring at the back of a fiery head of hair, a shade I’d recognize anywhere in the world and in the most crowded places.

Shi-hit, does this break the ‘giving space’ rule? No, I’m just getting a cup of coffee on a cold winter day, no big deal. I don’t even have to talk to her. Yeah right, who am I kidding?

—————

[ DS ]

I’m way too excited about the start of Peppermint Mocha season, so here I am, in a place packed with people, patiently waiting in line to finally get my hands on that glorious to-go cup of Christmas Spirit.

I’m next in line when the person in front of me turns a little too quickly, making me take a step backwards to let them pass, bumping into the person standing behind. I mumble a “I’m sorry!” over my shoulder and freeze when I hear a familiar voice respond with an “Don’t worry about it.”

Counting to ten in my head before I turn my head, I come to face with a grinning Fox Mulder, who adds “Fancy bumping into you here!” His silly pun elicits the first genuine smile I’ve given in weeks.

“Technically, you didn’t bump into me, I bumped into you.”

He grins even wider and nudges my shoulder with his index finger. “There. So, I’m new in town, what’s good here?”

I order my Peppermint Mocha with sweet cream foam and an extra espresso shot while he pretends to gag, he orders his black coffee to my snort and the barista’s comment on what kind of first name ‘Mulder’ is. We move to stand at the end of the counter to wait for our coffees.

“Sometimes, I just want to tell them my name is Bob, just so I don’t have to explain Mulder or Fox to another barista.”

“Don’t ask me how many time’s I’ve been Donna, Danny or Dinara and one time, Daniel. I think they do it on purpose. At least yours is easy to spell, Eff - Oh - Ex.”

“Oh I bet you were a regular hit at the spelling bee, with those mad skills of yours!”

“I’m a woman of many talents, Bob.”

The barista calls out our names, ‘Peppermint Mocha for Daisy, black coffee for Mouldy’ and we reach out to accept our respective cups. Pushing out way to the crowd, we continue our conversation.

“Daisy? That's not even remotely close to my real name… but Mouldy is freaking priceless!” Her giggle at their slip up almost makes it worth it to have a shitty first name.

“Yeah, yeah, make fun of the guy with the funny name. I kind of like Daisy, though, it’s a pretty name!”

I’m so happy to see that we turn to head in the same direction, strolling along the crowded sidewalk, sipping our coffee. I have to walk pretty fast to keep up with his long strides.

“It is, yeah! So tell me, Eff- Oh- Ex, how much flak did you have to take way back in the day, when “What does the Fox say?” came out?” I shudder at the memory.

“They didn’t tease me with it. Much. Just a lot of ring-ding-dingalinging. It became a thing in my friend group, whenever they asked me something, they’d add ‘So what does the Fox say?’. It went on a long time and they still do it sometimes, when we get together, just to drive me nuts!”

“I hope for your sake that Felix never discovers that song, he’d have a field day!” Oh God, she’s right. Must keep him away from it at all costs. At my panic face, she laughs an evil laugh. “We do listen to a lot of music at recess…”

“Oh no, you wouldn’t!” I point an icy finger at her. “Promise me you wouldn’t!”

“Well, it does have a lot of educational material in it, with all the animal sounds…”

“I’ll have you know that you hold my sanity in your hands, handle with care!”

“I hear they have a lot of fun pills at the asylum, maybe I’ll come visit so you can sneak me some!”

We come to stand at the junction where we have to part ways and she raises her cup.

“Have a good day, Mouldy!”

“You too, Daisy!”

—————

[ DS ]

I think about the strange but fun encounter all the way home, the world didn’t end like I thought it would when we met again and it was a rather pleasant conversation. Like a conversation between long-time friends, even though friendship is not exactly what I’m looking for here. But it’ll have to do, for now. It’s just nice to talk to him again.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Secret Santa

For @thatesqcrush​​​’s Holiday Bingo!

Warnings: MANY. NSFW. Sexual assault (explicit about the immediate aftermath), trauma, angst, insecurity, eventually fluff. 

Today my brain really wanted emotionally fragile traumatized Barba who has a crush on reader but doesn’t know if they’ll ever see him as anything but broken now. Also it’s Christmas. 

Follow-ups: Te Quiero, Just Hold Me

Rafael Barba x Reader

3,000 words

Your ideal boyfriend would feed you chocolate like grapes in one of those ancient Greek paintings.

It was just an offhand remark you’d made at the bar one night in response to Rollins’s tipsy line of questioning about the perfect man. ADA Barba didn’t usually go out to socialize with the SVU squad, but he knew you were going to be there, so he went, too.

And not just any chocolate—no. Real, seventy-percent dark chocolate, single-origin beans. You preferred the fruity undertones of Madagascar cocoa, but were interested in exploring.

That was why Barba was carrying a box of expensive chocolate under his arm that night as he walked toward the 16th Precinct. He only agreed to participate in the SVU’s Secret Santa hoping he might get you, and was thrilled when he did. After a little trading. He knew Sonny would want Rollins, so it was easy to shuffle a few names around without making his own intentions obvious.

He bought a sampler box of fair-trade cocoas from around the world. The tag included a joke about feeding them to you, if you wanted. This year, Barba promised himself, he was going to admit his feelings for you.

Maybe it was foolish. You could have anyone. Why would you choose the cranky old lawyer? But he saw the approving way your eyes caught on him sometimes, when you didn’t think he was looking. The eternal pessimist in him said you just enjoyed his colorful ties, but it was enough to give him hope. The starved optimist whispered promises in his ear that this Christmas, he wouldn’t have to be alone.

Maybe this was the year he would fall asleep with a warm body tangled pleasantly around his as snow fell over the city.

That was what he was thinking about when it happened. The theoretical conversation with you distracted him from his surroundings, turning his cheeks pink from more than the early December chill. He didn’t hear the footsteps behind him until there was a sharp pain at the back of his head.

The box of chocolates slipped from his hands as he hit the ground, and rolled into the gutter. The flirtatious tag soaked with half-frozen slush until the ink blurred and ran.

***

When Barba didn’t make it to the Secret Santa exchange, you worried. But only a little. Olivia was sure he was just running late. Barba was always getting caught up with something or other, either being dragged into a meeting, or simply letting his social life slide in favor of working late.

When Liv’s call went to voicemail, you really started to worry. At least enough to call his office and find out he left for the night over an hour ago.

That nagging worry was confirmed the more you tried to find him, and turned into terror as it became an investigation. The ADA was missing. Security camera footage from a local bodega showed him being struck over the head with a bat and dragged into a van by three suspects.

One of them was identified as Jeremy Jones, a man whom Barba had tried to convict for a series of brutal rapes against closeted gay men. Ultimately, he was charged with manslaughter for the death of one of his victims. He served only half of a paltry six-year sentence and was released on good behavior that week. Apparently, Jones held a particular grudge against the openly bi prosecutor who tried to convict him of a hate crime. And he had made a few friends in prison.

The manhunt lasted three days, and the entire time you felt sick. Every hour—every minute—you didn’t find him was another minute god knows what was happening to Barba. If he was even still alive.

Only one of Jones’s victims had died, you tried to calm yourself. Of a heart attack. Barba was strong. But Jones wasn’t acting alone this time.

You felt sick.

After three days and a shootout with the NYPD, you found where Jones and his gang were hiding out.

You were the first one to discover the basement door, to kick it open.

You found Barba handcuffed to a bed, naked and beaten. His wrist was a horrible red-purple bruise where the metal dug in. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, though he seemed to be conscious. You radioed in for help and rushed to him, holding his head up, praying he was responsive. He yelped at the touch, recoiling from it. The cuffs rattled on the metal headboard.

“It’s OK. Shh. Rafael. It’s me,” you soothed, sitting at the corner of the bed beside him. “It’s the NYPD. We got them. You’re safe now. OK? They’re gone. The paramedics are already on the way.”

His eyes cleared, focused on you for just a moment. He seemed to recognize you—to understand what was happening. His mouth opened and almost made words, but only a dry rattle came out. His lips were swollen, and cracked with dehydration. Tears started rolling down his face, then. Dark, coppery dried blood covered the inside of his legs, pooled on the mattress, and bright red fresh blood streamed down over it.

He’d been missing for three days. Three whole days.

It was bad. He was in bad shape. You prayed the paramedics would get there soon. For the quick-witted prosecutor to be rendered unable to speak, his hair disheveled and plastered to his head with blood and fluids… For anyone to have done this to him… You tried to stay calm to help him be calm, but you were boiling over with rage and guilt.

It was your fault for not finding him sooner. For not being a better detective. For not worrying the second he was late.

Heavy footsteps pounded down the basement stairs and every muscle in his exhausted body went rigid. His free hand clung to you, nails digging into the skin of your palm.

“It’s just the paramedics.” You covered his hand with your own, squeezing. “They’re going to help you. I’ll be right here. You’re going to be OK, do you understand?”—his eyes were so blank and unfocused you weren’t sure that he did—“We found you, and… and you’re going to be OK now. We’re going to fix this.” Your voice was shaking.

It was a good thing the paramedics came in and took over before you started crying. The way his hand tightly held yours, not wanting to let go, wrenched your heart, and you needed to take a few minutes before you could be a detective again.

***

Barba was in the hospital for a week before being released. You went to see him, but were told he wasn’t taking visitors.

A week before Christmas, he reported to work.

A whole group from the 16th Precinct went down to 1 Hogan Place to welcome him back. He looked at home in his office, where he was supposed to be. His suit was as sharp (and loud) as ever. His hair was made without a strand out of place. You were relieved to see he was himself again. But his eyes were still haunted, and he flinched when Sonny knocked too loudly on the door frame.

He gave a weary smile, thanked everyone for their support, and sent everyone away except Liv.

Including you.

Your heart sank at the blow-off. You knew he’d weaseled half the precinct into trading Secret Santas until he got you. That had to mean you were special to him, the same way he was special to you.

Barba meant… more than you’d like to admit. It started so small you barely noticed it—that you were more inclined to go to events if Barba was also going. That you were always on his side during controversial cases, and even when you disagreed, you were more inclined to hear out his opinion than if he were anyone else. Then Rollins had a few tequila shots and started talking boys, and how the perfect man didn’t exist.

When you thought about the perfect man, only one person came to mind.

And you hadn’t had a chance to talk to him.

You knew he was going through something difficult, but that was why you wanted to be there for him. You wanted so badly to be part of his inner circle, like Liv—one of the people he leaned on instead of sending away.

You tried his office again the next day, by yourself. He avoided you, claiming he was busy with backlogged paperwork. The day after that, he legitimately wasn’t there—at the hospital for a follow-up—but never returned the message you left with Carmen.

On Christmas Eve, you tried again during lunch break. The lights were on in his office, but Carmen said he wasn’t there, sympathy in her eyes. He was there. You both knew it. He just didn’t want to see you. That night, you left him in peace. He would be spending Nochebuena with his mother, and you had plans of your own.

But on Christmas morning, you knew he wouldn’t be working all day. Neither were you.

You sent him a text and said you were coming over. He never responded, but an hour later, you knocked on his apartment door, anyway.

Footsteps slowly approached the door. A shadow fell over the peephole, and you grinned nervously, giving a little wave. The deadbolt slid open, then the door chain, and finally it opened to a tense lawyer, well dressed even on his day off in a cashmere sweater and chinos. Dark circles ringed his eyes from lack of sleep.

“Detective. H-hey. It’s not a good time. I’m… busy.” The flush in his cheeks rose, and he seemed eager to retreat back inside.

“You owe me a Christmas present!” you blurted out. It was juvenile. You knew the moment you opened your mouth it sounded like something a toddler would say, but at least it stopped him from closing the door on you.

He blinked. His chin tipped up just slightly in that haughty way that always preceded a cutting bit of sarcasm. “…Excuse me, I what?”

“It’s Christmas. You were my Secret Santa. So you owe me a gift.”

Realization dawned over him, along with the memory of everything that had happened the night he was meant to give you your present. His face fell.

“I… I’m sorry. I lost it.”

His eyes took on a dull, far away look, and you instantly regretted bringing it up. Of course that would be a painful memory. Fuck.

“It’s OK!” you took a step toward him, and he took one quickly back. Shit, you shouldn’t have done that, you scolded yourself. His face grew hotter, and he seemed humiliated with himself. “I-I mean… for the gift. All I want is to talk to you. For a minute. That would be plenty of a gift, if you could spare it. I just want to know how you’re doing.”

“I wish everyone would stop asking me that,” he snapped.

“Well, I haven’t had the chance yet. It feels like you’ve been avoiding me. I just wanted to know if… if we’re OK.”

He paused. He didn’t answer immediately, but his expression softened. “I… I haven’t been…” He sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair. His jaw kept working, lips reshaping themselves of the cusp of words, as if he were trying to continue, but couldn’t find the right ones. The words that would make sense, and explain everything—that would click together like a jigsaw puzzle and make everything better.

“I just thought that we were… friends. And… I was worried about you… And now I’m worried you’re pushing me away. I know we’re not as close as you and Olivia… but…” Your head hung low. “Did I do something wrong?”

Barba turned away. He wrapped a hand over his face, fingers shielding his eyes from you. “I know you were the one who found me,” he groaned miserably. “I didn’t want you to see me like that. You of all people… Because now you’ll never be able to look at me without part of you always seeing me… like that. Like a victim.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is, and you know it!” he snarled, surprising you with the sudden rise in volume.

He was seething, hurting, and you wanted to reassure him that you would never see him as less because of what was done to him. You laid a hand on his arm to comfort him, and he jerked away.

“Stop that! See? You’re doing it. Treating me like I’m… broken.” His whole body seemed to deflate, to shrink into itself. “It’s too late,” he croaked, a wistful smile cruelly turning the corner of his lip. “I’m never going to be whole in your eyes now.”

“Of course you are,” you said gently.

He gave a sharp, nasal huff. “Not like—ugh, never mind.”

“Not like what?”

His eyes met yours—green and turbulent as the ocean. There was a harrowed desperation in the creases of his forehead, the little wrinkles under his eyes deepening. “Like someone you could… Forget it!” He looked away, blinking rapidly.

“Barba… did you want to… Do you like…?”

You had a hopeful spark, an idea of what he was trying to say, what was bothering him, but you were afraid to say it and be proven wrong. You searched his face, inching closer. He looked horrified, like you were calling him out rather than hoping for it to be true—rifling through the sock drawer of his emotions.

No. You had to be the open one. He had too much to worry about already. You had to take the risk with your feelings.

“What I mean is… Please stop me if I’m out of line, but, Barba… no, Rafael… I like you. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I kept hoping you’d say it first, in case I was imagining things and you didn’t feel the same way. Then you disappeared, and…” Your breath caught in a tightening throat. “I thought I’d lost you forever. When we found you alive… Whatever you think changed with how I see you, all I was thinking was how happy I was you were alive. And that I’d get another chance to tell you how much I care about you.” Tears were rolling down your cheeks by the end, drying your eyes on your sleeves to no avail.

He had turned completely toward you at some point during your confession, no longer half-hiding his face. Some of the remaining distance between you had disappeared, too. His hands softly came up to press your upper arms. Even through your puffy winter coat, you could feel how big and strong they were. His haunted green eyes searched you closely, looking for any sign you weren’t serious. That this wasn’t real. That maybe it was just pity. But you could swear there was a hint in them, too, of a stunned, timid sort of hope. 

You swallowed, meeting his deep gaze. “And I really want to kiss you now… if that would be alright.”

“I… I’d like that.”

Though he trembled slightly, his breathing was soft and steady as you leaned toward him. The kiss was gentle and easy, starting with foreheads touching, noses brushing against each other. Then lips, delicately ghosting over each other. His were still healing, tender where they were split. You let him close the final micron of distance, pressing the warm fullness of his lips against yours. His hand caressed the side of your face, and his thumb delicately brushed the hair at your temple.

“Can we go slow?” he breathed as he pulled away, though not far. He kept his hand on your face, the other about your waist. “I know I just said I’m not broken…”

“But you need time. I understand. Trust me.”

The corners of his eyes wrinkled in a melancholy smile as he stroked the side of your face longingly.

“I’m comfortable with whatever pace you want to set. Whether it’s holding hands, or… just talking. So long as I can keep spending time with you. I missed you. That’s all I need to be happy—just getting to be around my favorite counselor.”

He leaned in and kissed your forehead. “You know… you’re my favorite detective.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged, grinning. “What about Liv?”

“She’s a lieutenant.”

“Ack! Got me on a technicality!”

“There’s no such thing as a technicality in law,” Barba smirked, playfully smug.

You snorted. Cheeky bastard.

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Rafael, you can kiss me as many times as you like.”

His mouth melded against yours more confidently this time. More insistent, and yet more vulnerable, a soft groan reverberating in his throat. Just once, his lips parted yours, and his tongue darted out, tasting the opening of your lips before retreating shyly back. You let him lead, and didn’t push for more. You meant it when you said just being near him, part of his world, was enough.

He invited you inside.

If this was to make up for your gift, he owed you more than just a minute of conversation, he said, smiling. For the rest of the day, Barba turned his tidy, tiny Manhattan flat into a cozy winter refuge, complete with hot cocoa (spiked with spiced rum, of course), warm throw blankets, and an endless marathon of holiday movies to watch while snuggling on the couch.

It was the best Christmas you could remember, especially when, before the sun had even begun to set, Barba fell asleep holding you. The worry lines carved into his face smoothed out as he breathed steadily. He looked so peaceful, you didn’t mind being trapped on the couch until he woke up.

Maybe, you thought, those dark circles could start to fade.

[bangingoutthetunes]

Snowfall.

A drabble in which you walk home with your boyfriend in the snow and get to cuddle + braid his hair. 

Word count: 2.3k

tags: hair braiding, fluff, bokuto is a human puppy 

~

“Come on, (name)-kun! It’s literally so cold out here I might die!” Kotarou pulled your hand forward and you almost tripped at the sudden jerk. He looked back over his shoulder, puppy-dog eyes wide and shining. A cheerful grin had found itself onto its face at your smile. 

“It’s not like I want to be out here in the cold, Kou! I just need to catch my breath, we’ve been running for the past ten minutes and although you’re wearing pants, I’m wearing a skirt and tights. Gimme a break!” If just for a moment, you felt burningly jealous of the pants the Fukurodani’s boys uniform required; they would’ve definitely kept you warm. Panting from the exhaustion, you trembled in his grip a little bit. He walked over to you and pulled you into his chest, chin resting on your hair and arms wrapped around your waist. He smelled like soap and vanilla and like the best parts of cold December afternoons. 

Peering to the left of his arm, you took in the scenery around you; snowflakes had begun to blanket rooftops and adorn the naked trees, minivans would drive by full with mothers and their children’s friends, bike riders would exhale dragon puffs of condensation, and some other classmates were huddling at a corner shop to pick up some hot chocolate and coffee to continue on their way. 

Having moved from the Miyagi prefecture in early March of this year, you hadn’t gotten to experience snow in a small town on the outskirts of Tokyo. This was of the first times you got to enjoy the gentle fall of friendly snow without having to worry about negative repercussions, and in this moment you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else or with anyone else than Bokuto Koutaoru, the six foot puppy that wanted to take you to his house through the long route so you could catch sight of all the wonderful sights his town had to offer. It was bitter cold outside, but the warmth inside of your chest, slowly spreading to your limbs, was enough to keep you running. 

“Are you ready to keep going, princess?” he mumbled into your forehead, absentmindedly doodling on your back with his mitten-covered fingertips.  

“Yeah, I’m all warmed up now!” You smiled into his chest, burying your nose into his vest and planting a kiss there as a silent thank you. 

“Great, because tag,” he booped you on the forehead with his index finger and stepped back,” you’re it! Last one home owes a cherry soda!” He laughed, brilliant like the sun stretching its fingers through the clouds. The corners of his eyes crinkle and he wrinkled his nose,  clearly pleased with himself. 

“Oh, it’s on!” You chased after him, having committed the route to memory from walks home so many times before. You ran at a quick pace, but your legs were so much shorter and his training was so much more intense that you could barely stay at fifteen feet behind him. Damn  him and his stupid volleyball captain gig! 

He slowed down, if just for a moment, to let you catch up to him. He stretched his hand out to you, beckoning for you to hold it. “Come on, let’s get there quicker!” Once you laced your fingers into his own, he yanked you forwards. In no time, you made it to his doorstep. He fished for his keys in his coat pocket and unlocked the door with his left hand, tugging you into the warmth as soon as the door flew open. A gust of hot air flew out of the house, peppering your face in kisses and very welcomed heat. Kotarou stepped inside, and you followed suit behind him, the two of you placing your bookbags on the floor. You began to kick your uniform shoes off when he sneaked up behind you, wrapped his hands together at your belly and pulled you up into the air. “H-hey!” He laughed at your surprise and pulled your back into his chest,  waddling with you towards his room. 

“Give me a sec, I’ve just gotta get the door-” he placed you down on the flooring while he fiddled with the handle and the door slid open at the kick of his foot. He ushered you inside. “Come, sit on the bed! Get comfortable and change out of the uniform, you’re probably freezing right?” Concern laced his voice as he walked over to where you sat and he cocked his head to the side. “I think I’ll get into something more comfortable, thank you baby!” You reached over to grab his hand and gave it a kiss behind his knuckles,  and you could swear you saw him shiver from the ghosting of your lips. 

“You’re welcome! I’ll be back in a bit, I’m just gonna get some clothes from the dryer and bring us some snacks. I went out with ‘Kaashi the other day and we picked out some things for you!” Before he walked out of his room, he turned back to wink and blow you a kiss. You giggled at him. God,  you’d be damned if he wasn’t the cutest thing to walk this earth. Stretching your arms above your head and wiggling out of the cold, you looked around his room to try and figure out where exactly he had his pajamas. You took a shot at his dresser, and it took a bit of digging but you found the perfect outfit: an oversized grey shirt with old sweatpants would do just fine to warm you up. You slipped out of your blazer and wiggled the skirt off while admiring the decorations in his room; he had some volleyball posters, some framed pictures of him with his sisters, and atop his dresser you saw some papers that made your heart flutter; he had your first movie ticket, Weathering With You, framed and the post-its you’d slipped into his locker decorating the outside of the frame. To the left, he also had a printed out picture he took of the two of you on his phone while you shared a chocolate ice cream cone (with extra sprinkles, of course). 

You’d been to Koutarou’s house before, but you hadn’t gotten the chance to walk around his room; since his parents were out working, you’d come after school (on the rare days he didn’t have practice) and cook with him. One of your favorite memories of trying to cook with him was when you tried teaching him how to finely dice scallions; the poor boy couldn’t cut thinly if his life depended on it, and whenever he saw the knife get close to his thumb he would flinch. 

You wiggled into his shirt and plopped onto his bed. He had a plush vabo-chan and a horned owl plushie resting in between his pillows. You kicked his throw blanket up so it could cover your legs and shut your eyes for a bit, nothing on your mind except for your angel’s smile and his kisses peppering your forehead. You could feel yourself slipping into a comfortable vibe and it was so nice to be able to rest your body after running in the snow for such a long while. At a knock on the wall, your eyes fluttered open and your gaze traced your boyfriend’s form, hair damp (but drying) against his forehead, long-sleeve shirt tight against his chest, eyes blown wide and smiling, and packs of sour gummies and dark chocolate in his hands. He bumped his body against the light switch to turn the lights in the room off, allowing only the soft glow reflected from white snow to enter from his window.

He ran over to the bed and threw the candies at its foot as he wrapped you in a bear hug. “You look wonderful in my clothes, baby!” He chirped, voice dripping with adoration, as he admired you in his clothes. He was so warm and soft against you, and you wrapped your hands together at the base of his neck and pecked his lips. They tasted like hot chocolate and chapstick and felt surprisingly soft for the cold weather. Even if his lips were chapped, you still wouldn’t have wanted to kiss anyone else’s. You pulled away from the kiss to gaze into his eyes, color reminiscent of sunflowers and sunshine, and your heart fluttered in your chest as his gaze lidded and his eyes smiled. 

“What do you want to watch, princess? After all, movie night was your idea!”

You thought for a second, “Hmm, I saw that there was a cool documentary on netflix about international chefs! We could learn a thing or two from it so we can cook the best meal ever, right?”

He threw his head back in laughter and scooched closer to you on the bed, wiggling his feet beneath the blanket and pulling it up so it could cover the two of you.  He turned the TV on, remote in hand, and clicked through the buttons until he saw the Netflix app. Flicking over to the Documentaries, he paused when he saw some about food. “Is it the Street Food one?”

“Yeah, baby. We can watch a couple of episodes, the order doesn’t really matter anyways.”

“Cool! I want to watch the one about Argentina! I’ve heard they have amazing steak down there.” For some reason, you hadn’t expected his favorite food to be steak and instead for it to be something more like pure sugar. It had nothing to do with his energy level…

In spite of the absolute fact that he was always riled up and lively, in this moment with his head rested on your right shoulder, he looked at peace. His eyes were glued to the screen (or so you thought, because his gaze was really fixed on your arm as he tried to count all of the freckles there), his breathing was even, slow, and his fingers were gently grazing against the side of your left arm. He really did look like an angel, a piece of expired heaven that fell into your lap and promised to be forever yours. You smiled down at him in a lazy fashion and bent your neck to give him a kiss on his scalp. It smelled crisp and clean, and your belly fluttered when he looked up at you from quirked eyebrows. His hair looked amazing when it was down and, if anything, you almost preferred it to the spiky owl look. 

He shifted his weight so he could instead lay his head on your lap. You laced your fingers into his two-toned hair and lightly scratched his tresses. He had been gifted with many things, and among them was a thick head of hair; his locks were silky and plentiful; every meander of your fingers led to more strands  resting between them. He seemed to lean into your touch and sighed contentedly when you scratched at a spot at his head that was left of center. He really seemed to like when you would twirl his locks on your fingers, and it made you wonder…

“Kou?”

“Hmm?”

“Could I braid your hair?”

He let out a hearty laugh and turned his head to look up at you. “I’d love nothing more, (name)-kun. Go ahead.”

You sighed, running both hands through his scalp and feeling the silk slide in between your knuckles was so unexpected but so so welcome. He leaned into the touch and tilted his head forward to let you play with more of his hair. 

“(name)-kun, it tickles!” He laughed at the foreign sensation and his eyes crinkled shut. He was the sun. 

Scratching his head with your fingerpads, you ran the fingers of your right hand up his arm to let him know that he was safe and that the  new sensation was just that, something he should begin to get used to. He leaned into your touch, trusting, peaceful, calm. You separated three locks in between your knuckles and began to twist the center and right pieces together. Then, you twisted the right and left ones together, then the left and center. It was difficult because of his shaggy layered haircut, but you could tell from his staggered breathing and the nuzzling of his nose into your thighs that he was absolutely loving this. The first braid looked so pretty because of the contrast between his black roots and silvery locks, and you took a scrunchie from your wrist to tie it in place. Granted, it took five twists and the braid looked SUPER clunky, but you felt like that gave it so much charm. You tugged on the hair behind his right ear and began to weave it together like Arachne weaving her master tapestries, and braid begot yet another until the right side of his head was all tied up in a knot that you would (hopefully) be able to detangle. Hair tucked behind his ear, you noticed that he had a dusting of freckles on the pinna that trailed down to the nape of his neck. The black dusting of freckles against pale skin looked like stardust. He was beautiful. 

His breathing steadied, and it seemed like he had fallen asleep at the behest of your touch. A smile was painted onto his face, his nostrils flared and his lips half-parted as if he were having a pleasant dream. This was too much, it was too cute. You shifted around for your phone and took a picture of him in your lap, face glowing from the chatter and brightness of an argentine street restaurant. He looked perfect. You sent his phone the picture and saw it buzz on the bed, screen illuminated with a picture of him giving you a kiss on the forehead. You began to smile, and a look out the window proved that the snowfall had gotten heavier.  Your own exhaustion from the day began to settle in and take you prisoner. In between the soft whirr of the heating, Kotarou’s steady breathing, the soft background noise of steak sizzling and Spanish chatter, and the delicate dance of the snowflakes outside, you began to slip into a peaceful slumber. This would be the first of many naps with Bokuto to come. 

[avengersassemble-fics]

Stark’s Girl

Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader

Summary: Tony Stark is a good man. He has lost his entire family yet lives his life devoting himself to helping others. Steve Rogers never knew the secret that Tony has kept since his parents death long ago, but it finally comes out, and everything makes a little more sense. Things change for the billionaire, playboy, philanthropist when someone he thought long gone, has been alive this entire time. And Steve has to learn how to keep his secret from everyone around him, without hurting those he cares the most about.

word count 3.4k

an: wow hey lol yes another steve fic, but different then i’ve done before. did the reader go through trauma? yes. but i still want her to appear strong. in control. for now aha. hope you enjoy!

part 01/015 “two peas in a pod”

next part

If you knew Tony Stark then you knew there was one thing that you could not talk to him about. And that was anything having to do with his family. If you even tried to mention anything about that fateful day in 1991, Tony would leave and ban them from ever interviewing him again.

Especially if they tried to mention his younger sister. God forbid anyone tried that.

“No, we’re done here,” he’d say before walking off the set, his team (Pepper at the time and Happy) would follow behind him, and that reporter would never step near Tony Stark ever again.

Tony never spoke of his family, to anyone, besides maybe Pepper as their relationship developed. But it was December now, and Tony’s demeanor seemed to change the more the month passed. He grew more quiet, not being as snappy as he normally was, and secluded himself from group activities. This time around, he was focused heavily on work, and the other Avengers only saw him when there was a mission on hand. Recently, with the news that Hydra was embedded deep within SHIELD, that’s what they were being sent out to do: take out Hydra bases.

Steve Rogers was concerned for his friend. He had only seen Tony this way once before, but what he couldn’t figure out was why he would get like this. One day, he tried to ask Natasha about it. She shook her head, and told him not to ask, especially don’t ask Tony. He understood, but the information finally let itself out one night.

The Avengers tower was home to a few people on the team when they were in New York. One night, in the early morning of December 16th, there were loud crashes coming from the common area. When Steve came down the stairs, a glass cup flew into the wall between the two elevators on the floor. It shattered, rippling in the air as Tony was going on a tangent.

“How could, how could that even happen! The car losing control my ass,” he slurred. Pepper was there as well, trying to calm him down, but Tony paced back and forth in front of her. Pepper’s eyes met Steve and she extended a hand out for him to stop where he was. Steve stopped his movements, staying on the stairs, Natasha had ended up behind him, watching in silence.

“My parents they didn’t,” he hiccuped, “they didn’t have to take her with them! I said I could, I could take care of her.” Tony paused for a moment, looking into Pepper’s face. Pepper could see the tears in his eyes, but Steve would never admit that he could as well.

“If my father had just listened to me, she’d be here with me. She’d be alive, Pepper.” the last part kind of came out as a whisper. She said something quietly to him, and Tony let himself fold into her arms, and soft cries filled the room. Natasha placed her hand on Steve’s shoulder, motioning for him to follow her back upstairs, away from the scene unfolding before them.

That was when Steve learned that Howard and Maria had also had a little girl, who was with them when the crash happened. She was only fairly young when the crash happened. Natasha told him that Tony and his sister were really close when Tony was home from his schools, two peas in a pod, at least that’s what she read in the past, not that Tony would ever speak of it. Natasha also told him that if he were ever to mention it, the outcome would not be good.

Steve looked into it a bit more, and with each piece of information his heart dropped further into his stomach. Howard and Maria welcomed you into the world as a healthy baby girl, and Tony was seen carrying you into the family home a few days later. Over the next few years as Tony grew older and went to several ivy league schools, he would come home most of the press that was released was of him spending time with his little sister, whose face was blurred in every photo. They were extremely close. Steve had to close his computer, and try and move on with his day with that information running rampant in his head. He could never tell Tony about that day in 1991. For Tony’s sake.

It was spring now, Tony returned back to his normal self but now knowing what he knows, Steve looked at him a little differently. From what he read, he had never seen Tony as intimate with anyone before (with no offense to Pepper), and that changed some of the things he said to his friend.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Tony said, snapping Steve out of his thoughts.

“I’m not looking at you in any way,” he replied earning a grin from the man close to him.

“You look like you’re falling in love with me, but you’re too scared to admit it because I’m your boss. Have you ever seen Two Weeks Notice?”

Steve shook his head a slight smile crossing his lips. They were headed on a quick mission, get in, get out, and kick some Hydra ass, they as in Steve, Tony, Natasha, and Sam. This was their third base this month alone, but with the rate they were going there weren’t going to be many left in the Hydra channel.

“Alright boys, we’re reaching the drop point in a few minutes,” Natasha said from the front of the quinjet. Tony was quick to release his buckle from his body, and stood to move near his suit.

“Well that’s my cue,” Tony commented walking backwards into his suit, “try not to miss me too much Steve,” his words turned more automatic as he stepped back into his suit and it closed around him. Steve rolled his eyes, and Tony shockingly put his hands over his heart as if he was shocked. But then he wiggled his fingers at him, and Natasha opened the back of the plane and Tony dropped out of it flawlessly.

“He’s in a good mood today”, Sam commented, as he was strapping his Falcon wings on.

“He sure is,” Steve replied, and nodded at his new friend who followed Tony’s lead, disappearing into the air.

“I’m bringing her down,” Nat called over the wind. Steve released himself from his constraints and slid his helmet over his eyes. He took the time to tighten his gloves as Natasha lowered the plane to the ground. There was gunfire nearby, some ricocheting off the metal exterior. 

“Always making a mess, you boys,” she said in a joking manner, walking past Steve ready to fight. 

It was supposed to be an easy job. Get in, get out, take out the bad guys. That was always Tony’s tag line for these kinds of missions. This time though, there were more Hydra agents than anticipated, which could only mean one thing.

They were hiding something.

“These guys are really starting to piss me off,” Tony commented over their com links, and without hesitating, “Jarvis claims there to be possible hostage inside.”

“Romanoff and I will storm the building,” Steve managed between throws of his shield, ricocheting off an enemy and back to him, “watch our backs until we give you word to join us.”

“Sure thing, Cap,” Sam replied in his ear. Natasha nodded her readiness to Steve, and he kicked the door in, using his shield to cover them. He moved first, each foot softly moving in front of the other. They were like lions looking for their prey.

The first man that tried to come around the corner, Nat was on him like a predator. Her moves were swift and like fluid, knocking them out and leaving them on the ground. But they pressed on, glancing around corners before making their moves. They needed to find the hostages and get out of there. Carefully, Steve moved into the door frame of a room.

The lights flickered, and there were shuffling noises deeper inside. Steve narrowed his eyes as he tried to focus on the shadows, Natasha behind him felt the wall for any sign of a light switch.

“Bingo,” her sweet voice said, pressing it on and the lights coming to light. As their vision adjusted, Steve lowered his shield a bit. His gaze was on three individuals. Each cowering around one another, they had their arms wrapped around their legs and into their chests. He looked back at Natasha, and nodded for her to proceed. She seemed to be good in these cases. Nat put her gun back into her holster and moved around Steve and edged to them slowly.

“Target acquired, you can join us,” Steve radioed to everyone else.

“I’m thinking we should do Chinese after this, anyone else?” Tony asked in everyone’s ear. Steve shook his head, replacing his shield onto his back.

“We can talk about it later, Stark.”

Natasha was busy trying to get close to the three people on the floor, who had all but pressed themselves into the wall they were against. She could only focus her attention on one at a time, but Steve kept an eye on them as well from a distance.

Tony and Sam joined them shortly after. Tony’s suit opened automatically as he rubbed his wrists cooly.

“SHIELD eta is three minutes, hope you’re making progress over there Romanoff,” Tony expressed, earning a glare from the red head.

“Shut up, Tony.” she replied.

She had wrapped a blanket around one, who had finally averted their eyes from the ground and met hers. She promised each one a life of peace now. They were there to help. The last one she edged towards, was pressed against the wall, knees scooped to their body. Hair laid all around their face, covering their face from her view. What Natasha didn’t know was they could see everything.

Natasha tried to peer into the curtain of hair, hearing faint words leaving their mouth. But with Tony’s incessant talking, she couldn’t make it out.

“Guys-” he called over her shoulder, not earning a response. She glared and spun around on the floor.

“Guys!” she exclaimed, making the three men jump. They looked her way and saw her scowl, and mumbled apologies. She turned her attention back to the third hostage.

She could see the outline of a face now, they had lifted their head slightly. Eyes peered ahead past her, focused on something or an object behind her back. She could make out lips moving, and she tried intently to listen.

Bubba. Bubba. Bubba.

Was Natasha hearing that right?

“Bubba,” she repeated, and the voice she once heard fell silent. But someone behind her stirred.

“What did you say?”

Tony had stepped forward, earning a look from Steve and Nat turned around to look over her shoulder.

“They’re saying bubba, it’s a term mainly used in the south which means-”

“Brother,” Natasha and Tony said at the same time. Steve had never seen Tony so pale in the face. Natasha’s eyebrows were furrowed in a brow before her head snapped back to the source of the voice. Her bottom lip trembled a bit as she looked back to Tony. He had taken a number of steps towards the cowering person, and Natasha backed away.

“Oh my God,” Steve mumbled to himself, watching it all unfold.

Tony kneeled before them, careful of his next movements. His forehead felt hot and his hands were trembling. But he couldn’t deny the tiny word that filled air between them.

Bubba.

Tony was careful with his trembling hand he reached forward, his hand gently moving the person's hair. He was holding his breath as he did, pushing the hair back as he tried to get a look at their face. Their face would tell him everything he needed to know. His hand was nearly cupping their cheek now, and the person let him lift their face up.

Tony gasped. He stared at a face he hadn’t seen in years. He was starting to worry that he would have forgotten what they had looked like. Their eyes had locked with his, the same beautiful color he could remember from his teenage years, but filled with fear and tears. He quickly placed his other hand on their cheek, rubbing his thumbs along their skin.

“(Y/N),” he breathed out. A tear fell down your face, and he pulled you into his arms. He crumpled to the ground and let you sit in his lap, cradling your head on his shoulder. Behind him the rest of the team looked on, Natasha had her hand over her mouth and Sam looked on in bewilderment. Steve on the other hand was quick to take one of the blankets they were using to wrap the hostages and made his way over to Tony. He also was watching your movements. Most of your face was hidden by Tony’s shoulder, but he could see your eyes staring straight ahead and brimmed with tears. As he approached your eyes shot to him, and Steve nearly faltered. Your (e/c) struck him heavily, filled with something other than sadness and the only word he could describe it was deadly.

You detached yourself from Tony as Steve came near, hunkering back to press against the wall. One knee was pressed to your chest while the other kneeled to the ground, watching Steve’s movements. Tony quickly grabbed the blanket from Steve’s hands, and the sound of SHIELD arriving behind them filled the empty halls.

“It’s going to be okay,” Tony whispered, and placed the blanket around your shoulders.

-

Tensions had never been that high. Not since SHIELD fell.

Because of the victims they found, they had to be brought to a safe SHIELD facility to begin reconditioning. That’s what they called the process of beginning to heal these people from the torment they had to endure. When they would get onto the large quinjet (a bus they said), the victims were carefully given a sedative, and would sleep for the next day. That gave the agents time to put them into their own rooms and check every vital sign that they could run. Assess their health and try to find out who they are.

When they would wake up someone (a psychologist or similar) would go in and start talking to them, and analyze their reactions. From there, they hoped to learn anything about what had happened to them, and try and rehabilitate them.

But in this case, Tony wanted to be apart of every step. The doctors on the other hand thought it would be best to have someone else go in when you first woke up. Tony would then call them an idiot and Steve or Natasha (most of the time both) would have to step in and calm him down.

“Tony you have to listen to them,” Nat would say.

“How is someone else going to evaluate my sister? I know her better than anyone else,” he replied.

“But Tony.. She’s gone through an extremely traumatic event, she isn’t going to be the exact same.” Steve would remind him.

Tony would then get frustrated and storm away. Several hours into the ordeal and Pepper was arriving on the scene. Tony and her were alone for a few hours, well into the night and weren’t seen again until the morning. The next time Steve saw him was before you were expected to awaken, and Tony looked tired. But in all honesty so was Steve. Neither had slept all night.

“I’ll only agree to this on one condition,” Tony said. The doctor looked annoyed but allowed him to continue, “I want Steve to be the one to talk to her.”

Steve stood a little straighter at that. He wasn’t 100% surprised but he was still taken aback. He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

“Of course Tony,” he replied and Tony smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Rogers.”

Inside the room you slowly awoke, eyes fluttering open as you fought your way out of the sleepiness. The room was bright, making you quint for a moment as you regain your composure. You sat up fully, almost robotically as someone on the other side of the mirror would note, and the blanket that was covering you fell. You looked down at the clothing you were in, a long sleeved shirt and some soft pants, and you threw the blanket off the rest of your body. You didn’t like unfamiliar places. You carefully swung your legs over the edge of the bed and pushed yourself to stand.

The last 48 hours were still a bit hazy. You had returned from an intel mission, being ushered inside to the dark and dank building and into interrogation. They believed that you had blown your cover and contacted someone from your past. They knew who you were, and you knew as well. But you wouldn’t dare try that. You weren’t stupid. You were always watched when they sent you out. No matter what you collected from them, or who you killed for them - there was never to be trust in your case.

But who would blame them. If you were alone, you would have tried to flee back to America in all honesty. They had tortured you for hours before throwing you in with the others. Each cowering against that wall as you were all watched. And that’s when the attack happened. But you truly never expected to see Tony.

You turned around the room, wondering where he was. Your thoughts were cut short when the door opened suddenly, startling you. You were quick to hunker back onto the bed, in that crouched position and protecting your back by pushing against the pillow on the bed. Your eyes locked with the man who walked in.

Tall, broad, and handsome. But a stranger in ways. You didn’t know him personally, but could remember the stories your father would tell Tony and you when you were younger. He walked in and it felt like he could command a room, and he did. His eyes didn’t break your gaze either as he made his way to a chair on the other side of the room. He sat down, hunching forward to rest his elbows on his legs.

“How are you feeling,” he asked first. You had never been asked that. Your eyes scanned him up and down, he noticed easily, not that you tried to hide that. You were assessing him. He knew that. You chose not to answer. He didn’t let that affect him though.

“My name is-”

“Steve Rogers,” you finished. He nodded, hearing your voice fully for the first time. It was distinct, strong in a way he didn’t know how yet, but laced with something sweet. He nodded at you though.

“Do you know who you are?” he asked.

Your eye twitched a bit, a reaction you couldn’t control. You broke your eye contact with him to glance at the two-way mirror and then to your hands. One laid on your leg that was close to your chest, and the other on your thigh. You didn’t answer but nodded in response.

“What’s your name,” Steve pushed. You shook your head ironically.

“(Y/N) Stark,” you said, and looked back up to meet his eyes, “I could never forget.”

Steve nodded, sitting back in the chair and motioned a hand to you, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“Not particularly, but I don’t have much of a choice do I?” You asked. Steve didn’t reply to this, instead he threw a glance at the two way mirror as if searching his reflection for an answer. You moved to criss cross your legs to sit more comfortably, and grabbed the pillow to place in your lap. Steve’s eyes met yours again but this time they looked different. 

They looked vulnerable. You inhaled and sighed deeply and cast your eyes down to the ground, and Steve leaned forward and rested his arms on his legs. He wanted to show he was listening and that you could trust him, but a part of him knew that you may not feel that right now, but he wanted someone else to know that. Someone on the other side of the glass. The two people in this quiet room had the same objective. They wanted to show Tony that they could be strong for him.

[piripaprika]

Snowfall (Bokuto x Reader)

A drabble in which you walk home with your boyfriend in the snow and get to cuddle + braid his hair.

Word count: 2.3k

tags: hair braiding, fluff, bokuto is a human puppy

~

“Come on, (name)-kun! It’s literally so cold out here I might die!” Kotarou pulled your hand forward and you almost tripped at the sudden jerk. He looked back over his shoulder, puppy-dog eyes wide and shining. A cheerful grin had found itself onto its face at your smile.

“It’s not like I want to be out here in the cold, Kou! I just need to catch my breath, we’ve been running for the past ten minutes and although you’re wearing pants, I’m wearing a skirt and tights. Gimme a break!” If just for a moment, you felt burningly jealous of the pants the Fukurodani’s boys uniform required; they would’ve definitely kept you warm. Panting from the exhaustion, you trembled in his grip a little bit. He walked over to you and pulled you into his chest, chin resting on your hair and arms wrapped around your waist. He smelled like soap and vanilla and like the best parts of cold December afternoons.

Peering to the left of his arm, you took in the scenery around you; snowflakes had begun to blanket rooftops and adorn the naked trees, minivans would drive by full with mothers and their children’s friends, bike riders would exhale dragon puffs of condensation, and some other classmates were huddling at a corner shop to pick up some hot chocolate and coffee to continue on their way.

Having moved from the Miyagi prefecture in early March of this year, you hadn’t gotten to experience snow in a small town on the outskirts of Tokyo. This was of the first times you got to enjoy the gentle fall of friendly snow without having to worry about negative repercussions, and in this moment you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else or with anyone else than Bokuto Koutaoru, the six foot puppy that wanted to take you to his house through the long route so you could catch sight of all the wonderful sights his town had to offer. It was bitter cold outside, but the warmth inside of your chest, slowly spreading to your limbs, was enough to keep you running.

“Are you ready to keep going, princess?” he mumbled into your forehead, absentmindedly doodling on your back with his mitten-covered fingertips.  

“Yeah, I’m all warmed up now!” You smiled into his chest, burying your nose into his vest and planting a kiss there as a silent thank you.

“Great, because tag,” he booped you on the forehead with his index finger and stepped back,” you’re it! Last one home owes a cherry soda!” He laughed, brilliant like the sun stretching its fingers through the clouds. The corners of his eyes crinkle and he wrinkled his nose,  clearly pleased with himself.

“Oh, it’s on!” You chased after him, having committed the route to memory from walks home so many times before. You ran at a quick pace, but your legs were so much shorter and his training was so much more intense that you could barely stay at fifteen feet behind him. Damn  him and his stupid volleyball captain gig!

He slowed down, if just for a moment, to let you catch up to him. He stretched his hand out to you, beckoning for you to hold it. “Come on, let’s get there quicker!” Once you laced your fingers into his own, he yanked you forwards. In no time, you made it to his doorstep. He fished for his keys in his coat pocket and unlocked the door with his left hand, tugging you into the warmth as soon as the door flew open. A gust of hot air flew out of the house, peppering your face in kisses and very welcomed heat. Kotarou stepped inside, and you followed suit behind him, the two of you placing your bookbags on the floor. You began to kick your uniform shoes off when he sneaked up behind you, wrapped his hands together at your belly and pulled you up into the air. “H-hey!” He laughed at your surprise and pulled your back into his chest,  waddling with you towards his room.

“Give me a sec, I’ve just gotta get the door-” he placed you down on the flooring while he fiddled with the handle and the door slid open at the kick of his foot. He ushered you inside. “Come, sit on the bed! Get comfortable and change out of the uniform, you’re probably freezing right?” Concern laced his voice as he walked over to where you sat and he cocked his head to the side. “I think I’ll get into something more comfortable, thank you baby!” You reached over to grab his hand and gave it a kiss behind his knuckles,  and you could swear you saw him shiver from the ghosting of your lips.

“You’re welcome! I’ll be back in a bit, I’m just gonna get some clothes from the dryer and bring us some snacks. I went out with ‘Kaashi the other day and we picked out some things for you!” Before he walked out of his room, he turned back to wink and blow you a kiss. You giggled at him. God,  you’d be damned if he wasn’t the cutest thing to walk this earth. Stretching your arms above your head and wiggling out of the cold, you looked around his room to try and figure out where exactly he had his pajamas. You took a shot at his dresser, and it took a bit of digging but you found the perfect outfit: an oversized grey shirt with old sweatpants would do just fine to warm you up. You slipped out of your blazer and wiggled the skirt off while admiring the decorations in his room; he had some volleyball posters, some framed pictures of him with his sisters, and atop his dresser you saw some papers that made your heart flutter; he had your first movie ticket, Weathering With You, framed and the post-its you’d slipped into his locker decorating the outside of the frame. To the left, he also had a printed out picture he took of the two of you on his phone while you shared a chocolate ice cream cone (with extra sprinkles, of course).

You’d been to Koutarou’s house before, but you hadn’t gotten the chance to walk around his room; since his parents were out working, you’d come after school (on the rare days he didn’t have practice) and cook with him. One of your favorite memories of trying to cook with him was when you tried teaching him how to finely dice scallions; the poor boy couldn’t cut thinly if his life depended on it, and whenever he saw the knife get close to his thumb he would flinch.

You wiggled into his shirt and plopped onto his bed. He had a plush vabo-chan and a horned owl plushie resting in between his pillows. You kicked his throw blanket up so it could cover your legs and shut your eyes for a bit, nothing on your mind except for your angel’s smile and his kisses peppering your forehead. You could feel yourself slipping into a comfortable vibe and it was so nice to be able to rest your body after running in the snow for such a long while. At a knock on the wall, your eyes fluttered open and your gaze traced your boyfriend’s form, hair damp (but drying) against his forehead, long-sleeve shirt tight against his chest, eyes blown wide and smiling, and packs of sour gummies and dark chocolate in his hands. He bumped his body against the light switch to turn the lights in the room off, allowing only the soft glow reflected from white snow to enter from his window.

He ran over to the bed and threw the candies at its foot as he wrapped you in a bear hug. “You look wonderful in my clothes, baby!” He chirped, voice dripping with adoration, as he admired you in his clothes. He was so warm and soft against you, and you wrapped your hands together at the base of his neck and pecked his lips. They tasted like hot chocolate and chapstick and felt surprisingly soft for the cold weather. Even if his lips were chapped, you still wouldn’t have wanted to kiss anyone else’s. You pulled away from the kiss to gaze into his eyes, color reminiscent of sunflowers and sunshine, and your heart fluttered in your chest as his gaze lidded and his eyes smiled.

“What do you want to watch, princess? After all, movie night was your idea!”

You thought for a second, “Hmm, I saw that there was a cool documentary on netflix about international chefs! We could learn a thing or two from it so we can cook the best meal ever, right?”

He threw his head back in laughter and scooched closer to you on the bed, wiggling his feet beneath the blanket and pulling it up so it could cover the two of you.  He turned the TV on, remote in hand, and clicked through the buttons until he saw the Netflix app. Flicking over to the Documentaries, he paused when he saw some about food. “Is it the Street Food one?”

“Yeah, baby. We can watch a couple of episodes, the order doesn’t really matter anyways.”

“Cool! I want to watch the one about Argentina! I’ve heard they have amazing steak down there.” For some reason, you hadn’t expected his favorite food to be steak and instead for it to be something more like pure sugar. It had nothing to do with his energy level…

In spite of the absolute fact that he was always riled up and lively, in this moment with his head rested on your right shoulder, he looked at peace. His eyes were glued to the screen (or so you thought, because his gaze was really fixed on your arm as he tried to count all of the freckles there), his breathing was even, slow, and his fingers were gently grazing against the side of your left arm. He really did look like an angel, a piece of expired heaven that fell into your lap and promised to be forever yours. You smiled down at him in a lazy fashion and bent your neck to give him a kiss on his scalp. It smelled crisp and clean, and your belly fluttered when he looked up at you from quirked eyebrows. His hair looked amazing when it was down and, if anything, you almost preferred it to the spiky owl look.

He shifted his weight so he could instead lay his head on your lap. You laced your fingers into his two-toned hair and lightly scratched his tresses. He had been gifted with many things, and among them was a thick head of hair; his locks were silky and plentiful; every meander of your fingers led to more strands  resting between them. He seemed to lean into your touch and sighed contentedly when you scratched at a spot at his head that was left of center. He really seemed to like when you would twirl his locks on your fingers, and it made you wonder…

“Kou?”

“Hmm?”

“Could I braid your hair?”

He let out a hearty laugh and turned his head to look up at you. “I’d love nothing more, (name)-kun. Go ahead.”

You sighed, running both hands through his scalp and feeling the silk slide in between your knuckles was so unexpected but so so welcome. He leaned into the touch and tilted his head forward to let you play with more of his hair.

“(name)-kun, it tickles!” He laughed at the foreign sensation and his eyes crinkled shut. He was the sun.

Scratching his head with your fingerpads, you ran the fingers of your right hand up his arm to let him know that he was safe and that the  new sensation was just that, something he should begin to get used to. He leaned into your touch, trusting, peaceful, calm. You separated three locks in between your knuckles and began to twist the center and right pieces together. Then, you twisted the right and left ones together, then the left and center. It was difficult because of his shaggy layered haircut, but you could tell from his staggered breathing and the nuzzling of his nose into your thighs that he was absolutely loving this. The first braid looked so pretty because of the contrast between his black roots and silvery locks, and you took a scrunchie from your wrist to tie it in place. Granted, it took five twists and the braid looked SUPER clunky, but you felt like that gave it so much charm. You tugged on the hair behind his right ear and began to weave it together like Arachne weaving her master tapestries, and braid begot yet another until the right side of his head was all tied up in a knot that you would (hopefully) be able to detangle. Hair tucked behind his ear, you noticed that he had a dusting of freckles on the pinna that trailed down to the nape of his neck. The black dusting of freckles against pale skin looked like stardust. He was beautiful.

His breathing steadied, and it seemed like he had fallen asleep at the behest of your touch. A smile was painted onto his face, his nostrils flared and his lips half-parted as if he were having a pleasant dream. This was too much, it was too cute. You shifted around for your phone and took a picture of him in your lap, face glowing from the chatter and brightness of an argentine street restaurant. He looked perfect. You sent his phone the picture and saw it buzz on the bed, screen illuminated with a picture of him giving you a kiss on the forehead. You began to smile, and a look out the window proved that the snowfall had gotten heavier.  Your own exhaustion from the day began to settle in and take you prisoner. In between the soft whirr of the heating, Kotarou’s steady breathing, the soft background noise of steak sizzling and Spanish chatter, and the delicate dance of the snowflakes outside, you began to slip into a peaceful slumber. This would be the first of many naps with Bokuto to come.

[wherevermyway]

be your confessional (1/?) // minbin // 18+

chapter one: cherry-flavoured nicotine series navigation: [desktop] [mobile]

⚠ POTENTIAL TW: READ WITH CAUTION! ⚠ pairing: lee minho x seo changbin rating: explicit! 18+ warnings/tags: obsessive compulsive disorder, cults, religious guilt, internalized homophobia, past sexual assault, cheating, smoking, tattoos.  word count: 4,032 also on AO3

originally posted: 27 december 2020

It's been ten years since Changbin left the cult he was born into. He's been desperately trying to become a normal member of society, but sometimes it proves to be difficult. He has a normal office job, a normal roommate, and a normal life. At least he was trying.

this fic sounds a lot darker than it is. most of the dark things happened in the past and is briefly discussed/observed.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are  interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do  not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of  the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable,  please stop reading now.

“Would you stay still? The Mark is going to come out imperfect if you keep moving.”

The voice felt like nails on a chalkboard, making Changbin nauseated just hearing it. He couldn’t help but twitch as the tattoo machine etched black lines into his skin, black ink and blood blending as the tattooist wiped at his chest.

To most sixteen-year-olds, getting a tattoo so early was a sign of rebelliousness, something to be envied by others. To Changbin, however, this was not a tattoo he would wear with pride. The X, surrounded by four triangles and enclosed in a circle, was something he felt shameful over.

“The X means you are nothing. You must follow the four principles: morality, service, responsibility, and submission to be whole, much like the circle. That is The Mark.”

The words hurt more than the tattoo being carved into his sternum. Everyone in their fellowship was forced to get The Mark at sixteen, if born into it, or when they were deemed worthy after joining.

Changbin didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be marked with a brand that rendered him unworthy, as nothing more than a pawn to some bullshit deity that some power-hungry man came up with fifty years ago. He loved his parents, he truly did, but he never understood why they fell for the words that The Leader spat out every week. The Leader wasn’t even charismatic; perhaps his parents were just vulnerable and stupid.

It didn’t matter.

“Wear your Mark with pride, Son,” The Leader whispered in his ear, continuing to dig his nails into Changbin’s wrists. “You are one with The Universe, one with Us, one with Me. Together, we are one in responsibility.”

“One in morality,” the tattooist nodded.

“One in service,” his father continued.

There was a pause as Changbin tried to choke back tears. He knew he had to complete the oath, but the lump in his throat and the burning of the skin on his chest made it difficult. The Leader cleared his throat, digging his nails into Changbin’s skin further, until he cried out and shook his head. “One in submission!”

One in submission.

Fuck submission.

Changbin nearly fell off of his bed as he thrashed awake. He was unable to make sense of his surroundings, trying to calm his rapid breathing and focus his eyes on something, on anything. He hated this nightmare; it haunted him for years, and they were increasing in frequency again.

It was irrational, but he needed to make sure. Changbin kicked his sheets off of him, untangling his legs from the prison his sheets tried to trap him in. As he made his way to his feet, he tore off his shirt, haphazardly throwing it somewhere across his room.

He needed to make sure.

Moving towards the washroom was mechanical, automatic. He did this so many times, waking up in the middle of the night to run off and check his skin. It was 37 steps from his bed to the sink. 37 steps to security.

Step 35: collide with the door.

Step 36: turn the light on.

Step 37: stare at the tired reflection in the mirror.

A wave of relief washed over Changbin as he stared at the dark raven that sprawled across his chest, wings touching the tips of his shoulders and the open beak pointed up towards his left shoulder. It held a deep meaning to him, but it was more important that it completely covered up that stupid fucking mark.

It hid away the years of guilt and shame, the obsession and compulsion that came along with conforming to each intricate, demanding rule that the cult ordered. The years of pain would never be totally washed away, but it was getting easier with each passing day.

“Hey,” a tired voice from the doorway startled Changbin, causing an electric jolt to course through his body. He turned his head over his shoulder and stared, blinking a few times to make sure it was really his roommate, Jisung, standing there.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he sleepily mumbled, nervously rubbing the tip of his shoulder with his thumb as he nibbled on his lip ring.

Jisung leaned up against the door, running his fingers through his vivid red hair. “You didn’t. I was already awake. Besides, it’s almost 5:30, so I figured I’d just get up and deal with the day.” They stared at each other for a moment, before Changbin turned back to look at his reflection in the mirror.

“You ever think it’s gonna stop, the nightmares?”

“Dunno,” the redhead shrugged as he met Changbin’s eyes in the mirror. “It’s been awhile since you woke up like this, though. You gonna be okay when it comes up?”

It hadn’t been long since he woke up like this, it had just been a while since Jisung woke up to Changbin acting on his compulsion. The black-haired man sighed, biting at his lip as he ran his eyes over his skin. “I’ll get over it. Hopefully he gets what he deserves.”

Jisung took a step forward, softly gripping Changbin’s shoulder and smiling at him in the mirror. “I know you will, but don’t be afraid to lean on me, dude. I’ll be here to help you through it, I promise.”

“Thanks, man,” Changbin smiled back, then looked down to his hands, staring at the hangnails and scabs that had littered his fingers. He wanted nothing more than to tear into his skin and tear away the imperfections that he had created during one of his episodes. The momentary lapses in rationality, where he would ferociously tear his nails apart, rip off hangnails, the lapses were the only thing that made the intrusive thoughts stop.

“You wanna hit the gym early? I know you’re not gonna go back to sleep any time soon, so might as well be productive with our time.”

“Yeah,” Changbin sighed, looking at himself in the mirror one more time before he turned the light off. “Might as well.”

Ten days until the hearing.

“Good morning!”

Fuck. Changbin tried to stealthily roll his eyes as he walked into the office. He hated the paralegal, Lee Minho. Minho was everything Changbin was not: nice, loveable, innocent, and a good church boy who was pure. Everyone loved Minho, because he was safe, an easy pill to swallow. Changbin was not an easy pill to swallow; he was covered in tattoos, ears decorated with jewellery, hard around the edges, and abrasive to most people.

“Yeah,” Changbin grunted, trying to avoid saying much else as he made his way to his office. It was too early to deal with someone so chipper, not without copious amounts of caffeine.

“Wait!” Minho called after him, and Changbin didn’t bother to hide his disgust as he stopped. He heard the shuffling of papers, and then Minho was suddenly by his side. “Mr. Bang is away from the office today, and he told me to pass off some of the Dawson v. Doebring case off to you.”

“Walk and talk, then,” Changbin didn’t bother waiting for Minho to follow him. “If Chan’s out, that means we’re busy today.” There was an itch under his skin as he lost count of the steps from the front door to his office, and it made him tense.

There was a bit of a squeak that came from Minho as he followed Changbin to his office. “I’ve got your back, Mr. Seo.”

Changbin couldn’t hold back a groan as he stopped dead in his tracks. He hated when people addressed him by his last name. “Stop calling me that,” he took a step closer, getting into Minho’s face. “I keep telling you, only address me as Changbin.”

“But,” Minho started, nervously backtracking his words incoherently.

He looked at Minho with a pleading gaze, trying to not seem vulnerable. Part of him wanted to tear into Minho because they did this every week, but the pitiful look that Minho had painted on his face made Changbin feel like a horrible person. It felt like he was yelling at a child for something stupid and only out of frustration. “Please, just… don’t call me by my last name.”

Minho nodded his head and bit his lip.

“Thank you,” Changbin sighed, turning on his heel and beelining towards his office.

“Sorry, Changbin,” Minho said, curling into himself a bit as he trailed Changbin.

The younger man shrugged as he sat down at his desk. “Don’t worry about it, Minho. Just…” he let his voice trail off as he looked down at his stacks of paperwork. There was a lot to do before he was going to be absent for several days due to the hearing.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear me. The leader deserves to die a slow, and painful death. Fuck this goddamned cult!”

That had earned Changbin a slap across the face from his father.

“Blasphemy is a sin, Changbin.” Despite being furious, his father’s voice was exhausted. He tiredly grabbed a black book off of the table and passed it to the young man. “You should be grateful that The Leader accepted you back into his embrace after the stunt you pulled.”

Changbin shook his head, grabbing the book his father offered and tossed it across the room, colliding against the vase on the dining table. “He should be fucking grateful I didn’t take this to the cops.”

Another slap to the face.

The younger man licked his teeth and shot an icy glare towards his father. “You know this isn’t right. You’re really going to side with that fucking monster over your own son?”

There was a painful silence that lingered in the air as they stared down one another, until his father broke the tension. He didn’t look like he wanted to say the words he had been thinking, but he repeated them anyways, his voice empty and distant.

“One in responsibility, one in morality, one in service, one in submission.”

Changbin didn’t bother. He scoffed as he took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re as much of a monster as him, you know?” His mother sat on the couch, curled up into herself as she stared off in a dissociative trance, trying to remove herself from the situation. “You’re going to actively defend and dismiss the things your beloved leader has done to me? Did you forget that I’m your fucking son?”

There should have been a slap, but Changbin’s father just looked down. His expression was hard to read. There was a look of shame and a look of remorse, but his eyes were dead.

“Get out of my house.”

Changbin’s mother lifted her head, opening her mouth to say something, but nothing came to fruition.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Changbin shook his head. “I’m not living with someone that doesn’t stand up against their son being abused and assaulted for years by some fucking psychopath that thinks he’s a god.”

“Come back here!” His father demanded, but Changbin was having none of it.

He turned on his heel and tried to remain composed as tears rolled down his face. “You’re both dead to me. I hope that, when this whole fucking cult gets torn apart, you both come down with it all.”

It had been ten years since he had seen his parents last, and he would be seeing them again in ten days.

“You’re making your fingers bleed,” Minho’s voice pulled Changbin back from the depths of his memories. “Are you okay, Changbin?”

No, I’m not okay. Never have been.

“It’s fine,” he grumbled, grabbing a tissue from the box on his desk. “Sometimes happens when I think too hard.” Ten days. He was still partially lost in the abyss of the past, and he was afraid he’d never fully shake the vise grip that the cult had around him.

Minho frowned, setting his notepad and pen down on the desk in front of him. “Can I ask you something kinda personal?”

No. I don’t want you to know anything about me.

“What is it?” He blotted the tissue around his fingernails until the blood was mostly gone, then dropped the tissue in the bin.

The older man brushed his brown hair away from his eyes, and sat forward. “Is law school really worth it? How did you know it was right for you? Like, I see you and Mr. Bang spend months over these cases and part of me is interested in applying, but...”

Fix the imperfections.

Changbin stood up, trying to fight the urge to pick at his fingers. “Can this wait a minute? I need to go wash my hands off.”

Minho nodded his head once. “Sure, sure. I’ll finish making notes on this file.”

127 steps from his desk to the washroom. He counted every step mentally as he walked. Anything to keep his thoughts away from tearing the flesh next to his fingernails off in nervousness, not until he was alone.

Step 126: open the door.

Step 127: scan the room.

It was an additional three steps to the third sink. Three was a good number.

Changbin ran the water a bit too cold for comfort as he stuck his hands under the faucet, ravenously tearing at his hangnails, pulling them off and turning the porcelain of the sink a shade of pink for a split second. The blood would drip down, then rapidly desaturate and dissolve into the water.

Fix the imperfections.

He hated these thoughts. Sure, the medications he had been on helped, and the therapy appointments he sometimes went to had helped him with better coping mechanisms, but this was the only thing that made sense to him, that actually felt like there was a payoff of serotonin. Changbin didn’t tear into his skin because he liked it — it hurt, actually, and it was incredibly uncomfortable — but because his brain told him he had no other choice.

“Obsessive-compulsive disorder isn’t uncommon in cases like yours,” his therapist told him. “Children develop coping mechanisms like skin picking or excessive handwashing amongst other things to gain control in their lives when things don’t make sense and they don’t have a way to express that in a healthy manner. Anxiety disorders are common: obsessive-compulsive disorder, alcohol and/or drug use and abuse, eating disorders…”

“Fuck that goddamned cult,” Changbin whispered under his breath, his voice laden with venom. “Fuck that man, fuck my parents. Fuck all of them.”

He let the water wash over his hands until his hands started to shake from the cold. Anything to numb the pain.

“You look pale,” Minho had, again, given Changbin an unwanted statement, and the younger man gritted his teeth as he bit his tongue.

Fuck you, too, you prudish brat.

“How’s the case review?” He deliberately ignored the concern Minho had as he sat at his desk, clasping his hands together and resting his chin against his fingers.

Minho batted his eyelashes a few times, giving Changbin a look of worry. “The case review is fine, but I don’t know if we’re going to have this ready by the end of the week.”

“Guess we’ll have to work harder.”

The men sat in silence for hours, poring over their evidence for the case. When Changbin could fully immerse himself in a case like this, it dampened the intrusive thoughts in his head. He felt somewhat normal for a little while, and it was a welcomed change.

“It’s half past two, Changbin,” Minho whined, looking up from his paperwork. “Can we take a break for now?”

It took a moment for Changbin to pull himself away from the paragraph he was on, taking a highlighter to some of the words. “I assume you want to get something for lunch, right?” He didn’t bother looking away from the document, because he didn’t want to look at Minho’s sad eyes.

“That’d be nice, yeah.”

“Then go,” Changbin shrugged.

“You should eat something, too.” Minho leaned in on the desk, trying to get into Changbin’s line of sight. “Maybe take a break from all of this.”

“Fine,” Changbin sighed, grabbing his glasses off of his desk and adjusting them on his face. “Chan said I should be nicer to you, anyways. How about that French place down the street?”

Minho’s smile was soft, genuine. “That sounds perfect.”

Changbin hated the fact that Minho was so nice. It felt fake and unwarranted. He saw a lot of his younger self in the way that Minho acted: fake kindness, putting others before himself, a general sense of being lost. He knew that the other man was deeply wrapped up in some sort of religion that took up all of his time outside of work.

It wasn’t obvious until Changbin watched the way he talked about his fiancée. It felt like she was a prop or a chore: just another thing for Minho to deal with.

“Hey, congrats, man!” Seungmin, the other new paralegal, had excitedly shouted one day a few weeks prior. “Finally settling down like a real adult, huh?”

Changbin poked his head out of his office door, ready to scold the paralegals for being so loud, but the look on Minho’s face distracted him. For someone being congratulated, he looked incredibly uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” he had meekly said, sinking into his shoulders a bit as he darted his eyes around. “She’s great. My parents have been pushing me to bite the bullet for months now, and this weekend seemed like it felt right.”

Doesn’t look like it feels right.

Changbin stood in his doorway, observing the two of them chatter back and forth, watching the discomfort on Minho’s face every time Seungmin asked him questions about his fiancée. It was like he was trying to talk with a wedge of lemon in his mouth: constantly scowling and wincing.

“We’re gonna get married in a few months,” Minho said with a sigh. “Her parents want a winter wedding, and my parents just want me to get married.”

Seungmin shifted his weight to the other foot. “Dude,” he folded his arms, his tone turning more serious. “You sure about this?”

Minho shrugged. “Yeah. It’s what I’ve gotta do. Nobody else in my community waits this long to get married and start a family.”

Community.

Changbin tried to stifle a scoff with a fake cough when the two men noticed him standing there. “Sorry, I wanted to offer congratulations. I was also looking for the corporate notes for the Smith v. ParaCorp case, Minho.”

“Oh,” Minho nodded, his face flushing as he scrambled around his desk. “Yeah, I’ve got them somewhere, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Changbin shook his head and turned to walk back to his office. “Just have them on my desk in a couple of hours.”

As much as Minho annoyed him, Changbin felt somewhat bad for him. He didn’t know the specifics of what all Minho was involved in, but it sounded deep-rooted and like he was stuck. Chan told him to try and be nicer to his paralegal, but sometimes annoyance won out over niceness, but he was at least trying.

Somewhat.

“So,” Changbin dug into his jacket and pulled out his vape cartridge as soon as he and Minho were outside, “how’s the wedding prep going?” He eyed Minho out of the corner of his eye as he inhaled, the cherry-flavoured nicotine cloud leaving his lips a moment later.

It was a rude question to ask, given the circumstances, but he wanted to try and confirm a theory that was burning in the back of his head, under the guise of caring about Minho’s personal life.

A theory that was slowly unravelling to be truth. Minho shrunk a bit, kicking a stray rock down the sidewalk as they walked. “It’s,” he paused, tucking his hands into his pockets, “I guess it’s going? Maria and her family are working on most of it.”

Go figure.

“You don’t seem very excited for a man that’s about to get married.”

They walked in silence for a bit. 40 steps from the entrance to the curb. The stoplight ahead of them was red, and cars rushed past them as the air lingering between them went stagnant.

“I’m not excited about it.” Minho’s voice was quiet, almost too quiet for Changbin to pick up on. “Not at all, actually.”

The younger man took another pull from his vape, then rolled his tongue over the stud in his lip. He should have pretended like he didn’t hear Minho, but curiosity always got the better of him. “Wanna talk about it? Sworn to client confidentiality.”

Minho scoffed, anxiously tapping the toe of his shoe against the ground. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t love her, do you?” The light turned green, the orange hand turning into a white stick figure, but neither of them moved.

The older man looked up, his eyes glistening a bit as they stared forward. Some stranger walked past them and flipped them off, but neither of them paid the stranger any mind. “Are you actually supposed to love someone you marry, or is that some sort of fairytale? All of my friends are married and secretly miserable.”

“Dunno,” Changbin sighed, sticking his hands into his pocket as he stared at the light turn into a flashing hand. “Never been married. Never planned on it.”

“Why are you asking me this, anyways?” Minho turned to look at Changbin, a disgruntled look on his face.

“Why did you answer me?” Changbin tilted his head a bit to the side, looking at Minho with indifference. “I figured you wouldn’t say anything if you didn’t really want to talk about it. To answer your question, though, it’s been bothering me since you announced your engagement. You looked uncomfortable when Seungmin brought it up.”

Minho didn’t answer Changbin, instead taking a hasty step forward as soon as the light flashed back to a white stick figure.

“Wait, Minho!” Changbin reached out, practically ripping Minho’s sleeve off of him as he pulled him back from the road right as a car ran a red light, nearly running into Minho. The force of the pull knocked them onto the sidewalk, causing Changbin to land hard against the ground, barely missing his head colliding into the concrete.

Minho awkwardly laid on top of Changbin, staring down at him with terrified eyes. He grabbed the sides of Changbin’s neck and panicked. “Oh my goodness,” he whined, “Changbin, are you okay?”

He’s cute from this angle. Fear looks good on him.

“I’ll be fine,” Changbin says, unsure of where to place his hands. He’d never been this close to another man his age. It never hit him before, but Minho was good looking. Had he not been the pure, innocent church boy type, he would have been Changbin’s type. Minho, however, was innocent and literally planning a wedding that was coming up in a few months.

“Changbin,” Minho whispered, his cheeks turning a shade of crimson. There was a strange tension between them, like the air around them was full of electricity and they were being pulled together. Minho dug his fingernails into Changbin’s neck, slowly bringing his head in closer.

Don’t kiss the church boy.

He knew where his hands needed to be. Changbin brought his hands up to Minho’s head without even thinking twice, pushing aside the intrusive thoughts running through his head. The warmth of the older man was intoxicating as he brought their lips together.

Minho responded in kind, pushing a bit further into the kiss. They were getting strange stares, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the euphoric energy that danced around them as they kissed. He pulled away, then pressed his lips to the older man’s three times in total.

Stop kissing the engaged church boy.

Maybe he would make it six times.

Don’t kiss the engaged church boy who is probably heavily traumatized.

Nine times. Three times three for good measure.

Changbin had just literally fallen for the church boy, but he felt like he was potentially metaphorically falling for him now. Fuck the intrusive thoughts.

[heartofether]

Bonus Episode #3 - Leave a Message TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or go to our “Listen” page if you’re on desktop.]

VAL

Hey there! Val here with a couple of special announcements before our third bonus episode. First off, our season two release date has been set and will soon be announced. Before then, however, we have an abundance of teasers and bonus content coming your way. Be sure to follow us on Twitter and Tumblr to keep up with all of our new releases.

Second, do you want to talk to other Heart of Ether fans, either about the show or whatever else your heart desires? We now have an official Discord server! We have automatic roles, specialized channels, daily quotes and question of the day, and in the future, we may use it to host special events. The invite link is on our socials and our Carrd, and we would love it if you joined us!

Last but certainly not least: we all like tea, right? What about podcast-themed tea? That’s right, you can now buy The Heart of Ether-themed tea with the help of Adagio Teas! (not sponsored, just using the service) A portion of the proceeds will go to The Trevor Project, which helps provide crisis intervention and suicide prevention for LGBTQ+ youth. The link to browse our tea collection will be in the description of this episode, or on our socials if you want to look there.

Right, I’m done with my rambling. Here’s another bonus fluff episode—and this time I at least 90% mean it! Talk to you soon!

AUTOMATED VOICE

Please state your message.

[THEME MUSIC PLAYS.]

[THE DIALOGUE THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE EPISODE IS SLIGHTLY MUFFLED, AS IF THEY ARE SPEAKING OVER THE PHONE.]

ROSE

Hi! This is Rosemary Quinn. Unfortunately, I’m not able to return your call right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Have a lovely day!

[PHONE BEEP.]

IRENE

Hey, it’s Irene. I just wanted to check and see when you’d be coming over? Text me and let me know if you have an estimate.

Oh, and my dad is going to the store, so I know you mentioned wanting to make brownies? Did you mean, like, from scratch or is just a box mix fine? ‘Cause I’m good with whatever. Just text me what you need, and I’ll ask him to pick it up. See you later! Bye!

[PHONE BEEP.]

IRENE

Hey. It’s Irene. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Thanks.

[PHONE BEEP.]

ROSE

Hi, Irene! I’m sorry to call, but you said you were having some issues with your texts, so I thought this would be a safer bet. Are you available after school today? If you don’t mind, I could really use some help with the chemistry homework. You seemed to at least kind of understand it, or maybe you were just pretending like the rest of us were. [SHE GIGGLES.]

I also just am not super fond of Mr. Morrison. Nobody is. I mean, I try to be nice to him, nicer than most other students, and I think he likes me for that. It doesn’t mean he’s actually willing to be helpful, though. I think he sees me as some sort of air-headed bimbo, which is both misogynistic and presumptuous. Olivia told me he might be retiring, though, so fingers crossed?

Anyways, would we be able to meet up and work on it together? I’ll buy you a coffee for your time. Just let me know! Oh, and no need to call me back, we’ll see each other at school most likely. I just thought I’d call and ask before I forgot. I’ll talk to you later, bye!

[TWO PHONE BEEPS.]

IRENE

Hey, are you still at the school? I try to have school spirit—sometimes—but events really aren’t my thing. Maddy seemed to be into it, though, so I figured you might still be hanging out with her.

Anyways, if you decide you’re done with it, I was thinking about going to Sonic and it’d be great if you tagged along? It’s not the same when I go by myself. I’ll pay, obviously, since I’m the one inviting you. Call me back if you’re interested, and we can work something out. Alright, bye.

[TWO PHONE BEEPS.]

[THERE IS THE SOUND OF DISTANT CONVERSATION AS ROSE TALKS]

ROSE

Hi there, Maddy just wanted me to tell you that when you get here, make sure you go through the back door so you don’t disturb her grandparents. They’re not in a great mood tonight. You’ll have to hop the fence, but if you need help, I can go down there. I’m excited to see you! Bye!

[TWO PHONE BEEPS.]

[THERE IS A SLIGHT BREEZE HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND.]

IRENE

Hey there, I just wanted to apologize for leaving in such a rush. It was just a lot, and I didn’t really, well. I honestly didn’t feel super welcome there? That’s not your fault, though. It was everyone else.

It just—I don’t want to sound rude, but it doesn’t feel like our “group” actually cares about me a lot? I mean, maybe it’s because of my interests, or because I don’t dress or act like stereotypical straight girls do. I’ve known them all since freshman year, but honestly? You’re the only one I’ve ever really clicked with.

They like you, though. Everyone does. I don’t mean that in a snarky or jealous way. Just in the way that…well, you’re Rosemary Quinn. Everyone wants to be your friend, I guess. You just have that aura.

[A BEAT, THEN, EMBARRASSED] God, I’m sorry, that’s such a weird thing to say. I’m really not good at this whole friends thing, huh? I’m surprised you’ve stuck around for this long. I called you to apologize—now for multiple things it appears—but also to tell you that if you’re looking for me, I went to the park. It’s like a five-minute walk from Maddy’s house, and I have my board with me, so that helped.

I’m sure you’re not looking for me. You’re probably having fun at Maddy’s birthday party. You texted me to ask if I was okay, though, so I guess that’s why I called. You always do. You’re the one person who’s consistently cared, who’s always checked in on me when my social anxiety kicks in and I decide to leave early. Is that how you are with everyone, or…?

Jeez, I’m sorry, I’m rambling. Just, sorry for running off, I’m at the park sitting on the swings if you need me. Bye.

[TWO PHONE BEEPS.]

IRENE

[SOMEWHAT DESPERATE] Hey, it’s Irene. Please call me back. I— [SHE HUFFS.] I really think we need to talk.

[TWO PHONE BEEPS.]

IRENE

[DEFEATED] This is my third time trying to call you. At this point, I’m pretty certain you’re actually ignoring me.

I’m not mad, Rose. I promise I’m not. It was—it was nice! I liked it. Really liked it, actually, um. But you ran off to go home before we could really talk about it, and now it really feels like you. Well. Like you didn’t mean to, and now you regret it.

[SHE GROANS.] I’m not saying that to guilt trip you. I mean, maybe I’ve got it completely wrong. Maybe you’re scared that I didn’t like it, which isn’t true. Which would mean that we’re just walking in circles around each other, worried about what the other thinks. It would be funny if I wasn’t so worried about you.

[A BEAT, THEN] Do you wanna know the truth, Rose? I’ll tell you.

[SOFTER] Do you remember when we were building snowmen back in December, outside of the school? You made one named—god, I don’t remember. Was it Queen of the Valley? Some sort of royalty. You always come up with such extravagant names for things, it’s…

Anyways, you said what would make it perfect is if it had a crown to wear. By some absolutely absurd coincidence, I had a paper crown in my locker. I had learned to make them during study hall when I got bored. The school was still open, so I ran back inside through the empty hallways to go grab it.

When I came back outside, you grinned, your cheeks rosy and your hair still a mess from the wind that had only just died down. You took the crown from me, and you looked me in the eyes, giggling. You said, “I could kiss you right now.” Then you ran to give her majesty the crown.

And I didn’t say it. Of course I didn’t. I was too scared of that feeling I felt. I felt so warm, even with a blizzard on the horizon, and that terrified me. I wanted you to kiss me, though. I wished so badly that you had, it physically ached.

I gazed at you there, as you placed the paper crown upon the Queen’s head, Maddy rolling her eyes, but still smiling. In the moment, though, I hardly processed she was even there. I didn’t even process the groundskeeper glaring at us, or the cars driving past as teachers left for the day. As I stared at you, it was like you were the only thing I had ever known, and all I remember thinking was, “This is what will destroy me. This will be my downfall.”

[A PAUSE, THEN, HOPEFUL] But maybe it doesn’t have to be. Because you did kiss me, in the end. I’m glad you did.

Call me back, please?

[TWO PHONE BEEPS.]

[THERE IS BACKGROUND NOISE HEARD AS ROSE STANDS OUTSIDE OF HER HOUSE.]

ROSE

[SINKING INTO DISAPPOINTMENT] Hi, Irene! Just, um…just making sure we’re still going to the dance together. I’m outside my house waiting. My mom’s starting to get pretty upset with me for not being gone already, and just uh…standing here like an idiot. Won’t let me come back inside, though, because she thinks that if I’m not out here, you’ll—actually, I won’t try to understand her reasoning. I haven’t been able to for the past sixteen years.

But, um…please let me know? I’ll be waiting. Goodbye.

[TWO PHONE BEEPS.]

[IRENE IS HEARD DESPERATELY TRYING TO GET HER SHOES ON AND GET OUT THE DOOR.]

IRENE

Rose, I am so, so, so sorry I’m late. I promise, I’m on my way, I’m literally—

[HER DAD CALLS OUT, MUFFLED BY THE DOOR, AND SHE CALLS BACK]

IRENE

Yeah, I’m coming!

[THEN, AS SHE'S HEARD RACING ACROSS THE CARPET] I don’t wear makeup very often and I kept messing up my eyeliner and by the time I looked at the clock—I’m sorry. I have no idea how I’m supposed to make this up to you, but I’ll be there as fast as I can, okay?

[MUTTERING, CURSING HERSELF AS SHE PACKS HER BAG] First dance I get with you and it’s the only one I’m late to. Of course it is.

[SHE'S HEARD WALKING OUT OF HER ROOM, THE DOOR OPENING.]

IRENE

Okay, I’m going outside now. I love you. See you soon.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[THIS TAKES PLACE SECONDS AFTER THE LAST ONE.]

IRENE

[SLOWLY] So. I just told you I love you. I didn't mean to, but if you feel that way, too, then great. If not, then just pretend it was a slip of the tongue and we can spend the rest of the night pretending it never happened! Yeah. Um. Yeah. See you soon.

[TWO PHONE BEEPS.]

[THERE IS AMBIANCE OF THE CAFE AND PASSERBYS AS ROSE TALKS.]

ROSE

Hi, I’m outside of the cafe now! I haven’t ordered yet, so we can go in together.

[A BEAT, THEN, SOFTER] I brought something for you. Early this morning, when dawn was just barely teasing the sky, I couldn’t fall back asleep. I have no idea why I woke up in the first place. Maybe my muscles knew something I didn’t. I decided to slip out through my bedroom window, though.

If my mom noticed, she hasn’t told me yet. She knew I was going out today, but I’m sure I’ll still come home to her sitting on the couch intently, giving me that look she always does. I don’t care. She can do whatever she wants.

I got on my bike and I rode out to the park—not the one we usually go to. This one is in the opposite direction. It’s much vaster, less playset and more nature. There were flowers that had just started blooming. I picked some with the gentlest hand I could manage. I wish I had thought to bring scissors, but I hope the flowers will forgive me for my carelessness.

I thought long and hard before picking each one, making sure the colors matched just right, that the sweet scent they produced was in perfect harmony. I tied them with a ribbon I had around my wrist, and sealed it with a kiss, just for you. It took me all morning.

[A BEAT, THEN, SHE GIGGLES] Oh, wait, I think I just saw you pull in. Okay, I’ll talk to you in a second—

[TWO PHONE BEEPS.]

IRENE

Hey. Just wanted to make sure you got home safe. I love you. Call me back when you hear this, okay?

[TWO PHONE BEEPS.]

ROSE

[LAUGHING] God, I must have just missed you. Yes, I got home safe. Thank you for checking, dear. Sir Griffin the Third says hello!

[TO SIR GRIFFIN THE THIRD] Hey, look, it’s Irene. Say hello!

[IRENE SHIFTS. SIR GRIFFIN THE THIRD IS HEARD PURRING. HE GIVES A SMALL MEOW.]

ROSE

[GIGGLING] I’ll talk to you later, I love you!

[TWO PHONE BEEPS.]

IRENE

[HER VOICE CRACKING] Hey, I just saw your texts about your mom. Are you okay? Do you need me to come pick you up? You’re more than welcome to spend the night at my place. My dad said you can stay as long as you need, so don’t worry about that, okay?

I wish I could do more to help. I wish I could make her stop. Have you told your aunts about some of the stuff she’s done? They sound like good people, from what you’ve told me. I know they live far away, but still, they might be able to do something.

Right, um, just let me know if you need me to come get you. I love you. Bye.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[THERE IS RUSTLING AS ROSE LOOKS THROUGH HER BAG.]

ROSE

Hi, I’m sorry to bother you. I just wanted to check, did I lose my bracelet at your house? I can’t find it anywhere. It’s the one you gave me, and I really, really don’t want to lose it. It’s like a good charm for me. Please text me if you find it. If not, it’s okay. It might just be somewhere I haven’t checked yet. Thank you, honey. I love you. Goodbye.

[TWO PHONE BEEPS.]

[THERE IS THE SOUND OF HER CAR ENGINE, ALONG WITH SOFT GUITAR PLAYING OVER THE SPEAKER.]

IRENE

Hey, I’m parked outside! It’s okay if you’re not done yet, I can wait. I know you like to take your time getting ready for dances, and it definitely pays off. You’re gonna look beautiful regardless, though, so just come out when you’re ready. Love you!

[TWO PHONE BEEPS.]

ROSE

[TIRED] Hi. I’m sorry to call you so late. To be frank, I didn’t expect you to pick up at all, but I know you’ll hear this in the morning. I hope you’re sleeping well, by the way. I— [SHE YAWNS.] I can’t sleep. That’s not unusual, but I’ve just been thinking a lot.

Do you remember when you fell in the creek? It was late autumn, and even though I pulled you out just seconds after, your teeth were already clattering. I wanted to cry, you looked so miserable, but you acted like it was hardly a big deal.

That one coffee shop was the closest warm building, so I had to take you there. One of the baristas brought out some towels for you, and even gave you a free hot coffee. I should visit them again one day, if they still work there. Maybe bring them a thank-you gift.

Anyways, I gave you my jacket, which you almost refused because you didn’t want me to be cold, but I honestly didn’t even notice it. Once we were almost certain you weren’t going to catch frostbite, we went back to your car and drove back to your house.

On the way there, while we were at a stoplight, you looked at me and said, “I’m just happy it wasn’t you.”

I laughed and said, “Well, it feels like I was in there with you. I got chills just looking at you.”

You said, “Is that how relationships work? We feel each other’s pain?”

And I said, “What happens when one of us dies, then? Will the other die, too?”

And you said, “I hope so. I can’t imagine life without you.”

“But what if you could just live your life for me?” I said. “If one of us dies early, the other should have to live double the life to make up for it.”

You hummed, and then said something I’ll never forget: “I may continue living, but that doesn’t mean I’ll like it. Life is so wonderful when you’re in the world.”

And I should have told you, then, that whatever wonder I bring is only because of you. Every time you smile, or say something stupid, or brush your hair out of your face, there’s a bit more color in the world. I think our colors bleed together, then. You are a universe in my hands and I love you more than both of our lifetimes could ever contain.

And I didn’t have the words to describe it all until right this moment. I couldn’t afford to forget.

So, I love you. In this life and the next. Goodnight, dear.

[TWO PHONE BEEPS.]

[IRENE'S DAD IS HEARD TALKING ON THE PHONE IN ANOTHER ROOM. ON THE MIC, IRENE IS HEARD QUIETLY CRYING. THERE ARE FOOTSTEPS OUT IN THE HALL. THE DOOR OPENS.]

DETECTIVE

[DISTANT] Ms. Gray, could I please speak to you?

[A PAUSE AS IRENE SOBS.]

IRENE

[QUIET, SHAKILY] Please pick up.

[PHONE BEEP.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Today's quote is: “Foul smell of the things that we do to escape There is no glamour in this. No rock and roll. This is just endings. This is just grief.”

Kate Tempest in Hold Your Own, 2014.

[OUTRO MUSIC AND CREDITS PLAY.]

[sadaboutniall]

something about you;

introduction | masterlist | tag | wattpad

Twelve. December, 2010. 

He arrives back into Mullingar in the front seat of his dad’s car, backpack on his lap, heart in his throat. The village is fully dressed up in Christmas cheer: lights strung across the high street, tree sparkling in the village green, carolers making their way from door to door. It all looks fake to him somehow, like something in a movie. Something he knew once, but doesn’t anymore. 

It’s been five months since he’s been here. Now, he’s got a fortnight at home before he heads off to Los Angeles with the boys to start recording their first album. He can’t even begin to wrap his mind around the fact that he’s going to California to record an album, but that’s just the way his life is now: something no one can wrap their minds around. He remembers a million years ago, in this same car, staring out the window as Greg drove them to Lough Ennell, dreaming of being in California. He’s got a first-class ticket to LAX dated two weeks from today.

He goes through the motions most of the day: spending time with family, letting his gran kiss his face, answering infinite questions about what it’s like living in London and how tall Simon Cowell really is. By the time he leaves to head over to Mully’s he’s exhausted, happy to have the 25 minute walk in the biting December air as a way to wake him up. He shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his new puffer jacket, takes the long way to Mully’s, and tries not to think about anything. 

Everyone’s there when he arrives and lets himself into the basement: Mully and Emilia curled up together on the basement couch like they were that Halloween a million years ago, Nicky and Gilly kicking a football back and forth in front of the TV as they each sip a beer, Deo standing in front of Mully laughing about something Niall can’t quite make out. And Isla, too, on the couch next to Emilia, the two of them talking animatedly, Isla’s hand coming up to cover her mouth as a smile stretches across her face in response to whatever Emilia’s just told her. Niall’s heart tugs in his chest, splutters and stops, and Isla looks up at him.

‘Hey, you,’ she smiles, stands up to give him a kiss and Niall wants to say no, sit down, the least he can do is bend over to kiss her, but she beats him to it, up on her tippy toes to press her lips against his before he can even step across the room. She kisses just the same as she did when he saw her last, two months ago in London, and it makes him want to cry. 

‘Ah, superstar’s here,’ Mully’s saying when Isla pulls away. ‘Rich and famous now mate, you couldn’t bring us some cans?’

‘They don’t pay me,’ Niall says, and it’s half true. The money will come after the album, though he has no living expenses right now, with Modest! paying for everything. Appearances on TV shows pay a few hundred quid each, and he’s put most of that away for Christmas presents for his family and Isla—a few cans wouldn’t have been a bad idea though, he realizes belatedly. It’s kind of the least he can do. 

Mully’s laughing though, and so is everyone else, and Niall knows it was a joke, lighthearted taking the piss the way his friends have always done, but something about it is sitting like a stone in his stomach, curdling uncomfortably. He’s different, now. And his mates are too.

Everyone looks different: Mully’s hair is getting longer and Gilly’s shaved his head and Deo’s gotten taller and Mia got new glasses, cute, round ones that really compliment her face. Isla’s different too—her body feels new when he touches her, and there are freckles in spots he doesn’t remember, places where he used to leave his own marks on her skin.

Sometimes, Niall thinks, his life has taken to feeling like a movie montage these days, a supercut of moments rapidly changing around him. It’s all snapshots set to weird background music: laughing all night with Harry and Louis and missing four calls from Isla in the process, waking up absurdly early to go on the radio and sleeping all afternoon so that when he does try to call Isla that night she’s fast asleep, fans outside screaming his name, strangers asking questions about his girlfriend back home. He tries to keep Isla out of it, to protect her privacy, but doing that makes him feel like he has to bury her sometimes, to keep her at arm’s length to keep her safe. 

They just keep missing each other, even though they’re on the same time zone and only a short flight apart. It feels like millions of miles, like a whole different world, like every time he goes to touch her hand she drops it, or like every time she leans in for a kiss he turns his head. 

He’s sitting next to her now and that feels good—his thigh pressed against hers, his arm around her shoulders, her laugh in his ear—but he knows. And he knows she does, too. 

-- 

Isla comes over on Boxing Day. She looks so pretty bundled up at his door and all he can think about is how ridiculous it is that she makes him feel so much—that there are girls lined up screaming his name every time he goes outside in London, and yet that doesn’t even come close to how Isla, standing at his door in sweatpants, makes him feel. 

Up in his room they kiss on the bed, hands under clothes, lips and teeth sharp on skin. He feels so comfortable with her underneath him, so safe, so sure, and he doesn’t want it to stop, even though he knows it has to. It’s biting at the back of his mind as he presses his tongue between her lips, as he gets his hands on the soft, maroon lace of her bralette, as she arches her back against his hips and tugs gently on his hair and whimpers in his ear. It’s the sound of his name on her lips that pushes him over the edge, that sets the rancid feeling in his stomach up to the ‘Impossible to Ignore’ setting. This isn’t fair to her. He sits back on her thighs, still straddling her, and scrubs a hand over his face. 

‘Isla,’ he starts, already breathing a little too heavily.

‘Are you gonna say it now?’ Underneath him, Isla scooches up the bed a little bit. She’s just in her bralette and sweatpants, slung low so he can see her hips. 

‘Yeah,’ he takes another deep breath. ‘I think I have to.’

‘Okay,’ Isla’s voice is soft but sure. ‘Just let me sit up?’

He swings his leg over her body and together they get reseated, Isla criss-cross-applesauce with her back against his headboard, him with his shins pressed against the side of her thigh, his back against the wall. 

‘I’m going to America next week,’ is how he starts. 

‘I know, I’m excited for you.’

‘There’s going to be an eight hour time difference between us.’

‘That’ll be tough.’

‘Yeah. And I’ll be working a lot, like. Writing the album and recording it and practicing my singing. And they think there’s gonna be a tour, too, around America and Europe, after the album. I don’t think I’ll have, like, a lot of spare time? I think it’s going to be pretty full on, from here on out, and I just… I don’t think it would be fair. On you.’

‘I agree.’

‘And I—wait, what?’ Niall stops, entire prepared speech thrown off the rails. 

‘I agree,’ Isla’s looking at her hands, picking at her nails. ‘I agree that it wouldn’t be fair on me. It wouldn’t be fair on you either, Niall. I love you, but you’re not here anymore. And that’s not your fault, and this is what I want for you. It’s just, like. There’s no room for me on the plane, you know? Sold out show.’ She looks up at him then, a soft, sweet smile on her face and his heart swoops dramatically and gives out. His next breath comes out shaky. 

‘I love you so much,’ he tells her. ‘I can’t imagine I’ll ever stop.’

‘Ah, sure you will,’ Isla’s smile is sad, her voice strong. ‘Think of all the models you’ll meet.’

‘Don’t care about them.’

‘You will,’ she laughs a little, sniffles a little more. ‘You’ll forget about me.’

‘I don’t want to hear you say that,’ Niall shakes his head. The thought of that makes him want to scream, run, go back in time and un-do it all. It feels violent, the idea that he could ever forget about loving Isla. ‘It’s not true.’

Isla doesn’t press it. Instead, she reaches up to wipe her eyes and says, ‘I got you a Christmas present, though. If you want it before we break up officially.’

‘Christ,’ Niall laughs, biting back his own tears. ‘You’re so—I got you one, too, hold on.’

He scrambles off the bed and fishes the gift out of the back of his closet, while Isla does the same, rifling through her bag. Back on the bed Isla goes first, handing him a small gift bag stuffed with red and green tissue paper. She tells him it’s not much but Niall knows without opening it that that can’t be true—that anything she gives him is coming along to America, to Europe, everywhere. 

It’s wrapped up neatly inside the bag: a new, leather guitar strap, embossed with his initials and a series of numbers he doesn’t recognize. He blinks back the wetness in his eyes, as Isla reaches over and runs her fingers over it. 

‘Coordinates,’ she says, fingers brushing the numbers. ‘Latitude and longitude for Mullingar.’ 

‘Isla,’ when he looks up all he can see is her, brown hair falling over her collarbone, lips chapped from his own against them. ‘Isla, this is too much.’

‘Wasn’t that expensive,’ she’s whispering, matching his tone. ‘Just wanted you to have something to remember this all by.’

Niall shakes his head, rolls his lips into his mouth. ‘Fuck’s sake, petal. You fucking nailed it.’

Isla laughs, hand coming up to cover her mouth and all Niall wants to do is kiss her, pull her into his lap, hold onto her, onto this moment, onto this spot, forever. Instead, he passes her the bag he’d been hiding behind him, hands shaking with nerves. He’d gone to Harrod’s for the first time in his life to buy it for her, spent hours wandering around a department store he had never even dreamt of being able to afford. Isla eyes the bag with surprise, knowing. 

‘Harrod’s? Niall…’ 

‘Just open it, will ya?’

She giggles as she does and Niall can see that her hands are shaking too, that she’s feeling just as much as he is. His heart is in his throat watching her carefully undo the immaculate wrapping he’d paid extra for, watching her wriggle the top off the box, watching her face as she realizes what’s inside. She whispers his name and he almost cries, has to take two deep breaths to keep himself from breaking down. 

‘Can I help you put it on?’ his voice drops back down to a whisper and Isla nods, holding the necklace out for Niall to take. It’s even more delicate than he remembers: a thin, silver chain, a tiny, solitary pearl placed in the middle. She turns around and lifts her hair up so he can clasp it, so he can watch as the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up at the touch of his fingers, at the brush of his breath over her skin. He gets it clasped easily, despite shaking hands, and then he bows his head and presses his lips to the back of her neck, soft, precious, and whispers against her skin, ‘it looks beautiful on you.’

‘You haven’t even seen it yet, you liar,’ she says, voice thick as she holds back tears.

‘Don’t need to see it to know,’ he presses one final, firm kiss to the back of her neck and then Isla drops her hair, turns around, and he was right, of course. It fits perfectly, falling so the pearl sits right in the hollow of her neck, sparkling against her skin. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants to keep himself from touching her. Deep breath, then, ‘so, that’s it, then?’

‘I guess so,’ Isla swallows thick, smiles sad. ‘Thanks for being the best first love I ever could’ve hoped for.’

Niall’s mouth feels dry, tears pricking at the back of his eyes and rising in his throat, threatening to spill over any second now. He doesn’t know how much he can say without breaking down, without making this worse than it needs to be. ‘I love you so much,’ he gets out on a sad laugh. ‘Even right now when we’re breaking up, I love ya.’

‘I love you too,’ she reaches up to run her fingers over the necklace, her eyes flickering down to Niall’s lips and then back up to meet his, wet with tears. ‘Can I say one last thing as your girlfriend? Before we call it?’

‘Anything.’

‘I just kinda wish you’d have let me come before you decided to stop and break up with me. A little annoyed about that, actually.’

Shocked, Niall snorts out a laugh, and Isla does too, the two of them matching each other until they’re both doubled over with it, laughing, crying, a mess of tears and snot and butterflies in their stomachs, hearts in their throats. Niall wipes at his eyes, collects himself as best he can, and tries it out: ‘I mean. I think I can do something about that, if you want? One last time, like? Before we call it.’

Isla rolls her lips in to hide a smile, but her dimples give her away. Confident, she steps forward, traces her fingers over Niall’s lower stomach, the shadow of his abs, the waistband of his joggers. ‘For old time’s sake,’ she smiles. ‘Before we call it.’

####

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[gothpanda]

A Little Bit of Attitude Ch.27: Christmas

WORD COUNT: 7.2k

A/N: Enjoy! Comments are highly appreciated! ❤️

WARNINGS: none

TAGS: @madamsixx​ @emariehorror​

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Previous/Next 

December 11th, 1982

"I still don't get why you wanted to eat in your shit apartment when we could've gone somewhere," Sammi complained, twirling her plastic fork to capture linguine noodles in the carryout plate. They sat beside each other on the old sofa, Sammi praying it wouldn't break again. Nikki swallowed his spaghetti, kicking his feet up on the grimy coffee table. "Because maybe I just want to be in a quiet place for my birthday," Nikki answered with a smirk.

"Oh, is that why you abandoned the guys in San Diego?" Sammi asked, matching Nikki's smirk. "To be in a quiet place eating Italian food… with me?"

"Exactly. Besides you can admit you're happy to see my face. I won't tell anyone,"

"Shut up. I was happy because you surprised me at work. It's not like I miss you or anything," Sammi mumbled, smiling shyly away from Nikki. The two ate in silence with the music playing at low volume, songs range from 79 to this year playing on loop. 'Waiting for a Girl Like You' began playing, gaining Nikki and Sammi's attention, passing glances at each other.

"This is a cute song," Sammi admitted, placing her food on the coffee table, standing up as she walked over to the small kitchen sill.

"Of course you'd like the love songs," Nikki teased, sipping on his cold beer.

"Oh shush. You write love songs all the time too. They're just disguised as heavy rock for the tough boys," Sammi said over her shoulder.

"You aren't wrong but don't be telling that to magazines when we're famous,"

Sammi unzipped the dividing pocket of her black purse, slowly taking out a tiny red gift bag. Sammi looked at Nikki continue mindlessly eating, thankful he didn't notice anything. Sammi held the bag behind her back, standing right in front of Nikki with a dopey smile that made Nikki raise an eyebrow.

"Whatcha doing?" Nikki asked. Sammi whipped her arms forward, holding the gift bag between the two of them.

"Happy birthday!" Sammi exclaimed.

"You got me a present?" Nikki asked, putting his cardboard plate down as he took hold of the present.

"Well yeah I had to or else I'd feel bad,"

"You didn't even know it was my birthday 'til a few hours ago," Nikki said with a smile.

"And who's fault is that, Mr. Secretive?"

Nikki shook his head, removing the white tissue paper to find a flat navy velvet box sitting at the bottom. Nikki threw the gift bag aimlessly, scrunched eyebrows as he opened the box, revealing a black onyx crystal stone pendant. Nikki carefully pulled out the necklace, admiring the silver rope chain for it. "Wow, Sam. This looks pretty cool. When and where did you even get this?"

Sammi sat right next to Nikki. "As soon as I got off work. There's a cool witchy hippie store that opened up. The guy who sold it to me said the stone is supposed to absorb negativity and turn it into strength and protection. I just thought it looked cool," said Sammi, shrugging her shoulders. "Do you like it?"

"I love it. Thank you, Sammi," Nikki said, smiling dearly at Sammi, glancing down at her lips. He didn't know if he should kiss her, not know what to do in general with the young girl. So instead, Nikki gave her a hug and kissed her temple. "I hope this gives me all the protection I need,"

December 13th, 1985

Covina, California

Sammi looked down into the boiling pot of water, checking to see if it appeared perfect for the macaroni noodles she needed to pour in. Shrugging her shoulder, Sammi grabbed a bowl of uncooked noodles, pouring in carefully, and adding salt into the water. She turned the timer for 8 minutes beside her then paid attention to the ground beef that was beginning to sizzle on her left, stirring it to not burn any sides. The onions were already entirely browned to Mrs. Bass's liking, reminding Sammi to sprinkle in the proper seasonings for pastitsio before the beef was too cooked. Sammi grabbed the salt and pepper shaker, shaking both vigorously as the meat was folding in on the skillet.

"Don't forget the cinnamon before the tomato paste," Mrs. Bass said behind Sammi, smiling at her daughter as she entered the kitchen. Sammi looked over her shoulder, matching her mother's smile and reaching for the pantry's ground cinnamon to her right.

"I won't. I am your only child that in fact knows how to cook," Sammi said to Mrs. Bass as she put a measuring cup of water by the stove. Mrs. Bass kissed Sammi's cheek in gratitude for helping make the Greek lasagna, knowing how long it took to cook the special dish. Simultaneously, Sammi poured in the cup of water and tomato paste into the ground beef, giving one final stir of everything before letting it simmer alone. Mrs. Bass looked over Sammi's shoulder to see if everything was going smoothly, knowing she could trust Sammi to make dinner.

"I know but I have to still be a mother and tell you what to do. I already shredded the cheese before you came," Mrs. Bass said, stirring the boiling pasta. Suddenly the backyard door in the kitchen opened fast, Athena walking in with a somber face. She didn't appear to be in the mood for a family dinner, wanting a stiff drink in her hand.

Mrs. Bass smiled when seeing Athena, opening her arms for a hug. "Athi! You're early,"

"Hey, Mama," Athena said, kissing her mother on the cheek but no smile to give. Sammi leaned against the kitchen island, smiling at Athena but not getting one in return. Athena only glared at Sammi, inching closer to the stove to see what was cooking. Sammi only kept her polite smile until Athena walked out into the living room without another word. Mrs. Bass acted as if nothing was wrong, getting the béchamel and cheese from the refrigerator.

"Hi to you too, Athena!" Sammi shouted from the kitchen, facing the stove to turn off a burner, carefully grabbing the boiling pot to drain out the pasta. Mrs. Bass scrunched her eyebrows together, studying Sammi's face.

"Is something wrong between you and Athena?" Mrs. Bass asked, spreading a thin layer of butter on the deep casserole dish, waiting to assemble it. Sammi just shrugged her shoulders, passing the macaroni noodles to her mother.

"She's just mad I didn't tell her about my little field trip to Vegas, and I think something went wrong in her love life," said Sammi, pouring in the ground beef then macaroni into the deep dish.

"In that case just give her some space if she's hurt about love. But also don't mind her moods just because you didn't say something to her," Mrs. Bass said, waving her hand in a shooing motion, almost like Athena should let her anger go. Mrs. Bass added the last touches to the pastitsio, putting it in the hot oven to cook for nearly an hour. "You have your own life. You can do whatever you want,"

"Yeah I know. She's just being a brat to me for not telling her," Sammi said, washing her hands. Mrs. Bass tried to withhold a chuckle, wiping her hands from any food on them.

"Be nice to your sister! She's the only one you have forever. Now go relax while I make a salad for everyone," Mrs. Bass ordered, pointing for Sammi to leave the kitchen. Sammi followed her mother's words, slowly strolling into the living room. Athena sat alone with a magazine in her hands, the television playing Three's Company in low volume. Sammi dropped herself on Mr. Bass's recliner, tucking her legs under herself, hitting her chin on her knuckles as she looked at Athena. Athena could obviously hear Sammi and feel her presence, peeking over the corner to see her sister stare.

"What?" Athena barked, looking back at the gossip magazine to only see Motley and other bands spread out the pages. Athena rolled her eyes at Nikki's picture, tossing the booklet on the coffee table.

"Nothing, nothing. I just wanted to know what was going on with my sister. Especially since you didn't bother to say hi to me," said Sammi.

"Maybe because I have nothing to say to you. Ever thought about that?"

"You're seriously going to be mad at me forever? Because I don't really care at this point,"

"Of course you wouldn't care. You're as selfish as your stupid boyfriend," Athena accused, lowering her voice so their mother wouldn't hear. Sammi only frowned and rolled her eyes, slumping more in-depth into the recliner.

"At least I have something with someone," Sammi mumbled, staring at the tv.

"Oh fuck you," Athena said, folding her arms to her chest. Sammi glared at Athena, hugging her arms like her sister.

"I'm not selfish because I hang around with Nikki. I don't have to tell you everything,"

"You said you were done with him," Athena pointed out.

"And you've said Emma was being overly dramatic about your relationship," Sammi rebuttal.

"Are you only on her side to get back at me? Why are you even bringing her up?" Athena asked, narrowing her eyes to Sammi.

"Karma tastes so good right when a sibling doesn't shut up about your love life? And no I'm not. She was my friend first before your girlfriend, or should I say ex-girlfriend,"

"You're such a bitch," Athena mumbled. Sammi shook her head, taking a deep breath in.

"Again, are you going to be mad at me for not telling you about Vegas?" Sammi asked.

"Again, you said you were done with that guy,"

"You are so annoying. Can you just answer the question,"

"I'm mad you don't tell the truth to us anymore. We were so good for a moment and then you did a 180 again. Except for this time where you have us around," Athena said, grabbing the remote to change the challenges. Sammi blinked for a moment, scrunching deep between her brows.

"What?"

"Tommy and I finally had you being on our side where we told each other everything like it always was. Remember? Right before you became a selfish brat in high school. Then all of a sudden when you get with him, you do 180 and keep secrets,"

"You're one to talk about being a brat. Aren't the older siblings supposed to be the more mature ones?"

"Whatever. How about you just stop talking about him okay? Because trust me no one wants to fucking hear it," Sammi stared at Athena for a moment, bouncing her leg up and down fast.

"His name is Nikki," Sammi said before marching out of the living room and heading up to her old empty space. She shut the door and fell on the naked bed, closing her eyes as she sighed out.

*

Dinner was relatively quiet for the Bass family. Mr. and Mrs. Bass sitting at each head on the table while Sammi and Athena were across from one another. Sammi and Athena didn't want to look at each other, looking down at their food or their respective parents. Mr. Bass went on about co-workers who couldn't do their jobs right while Mrs. Bass gave her little advice. It wasn't until Mrs. Bass brought up the question of her husband's Christmas schedule that Sammi's ear perked up, remembering what she needed to do.

"Um I'm glad you brought up Christmas, Mama, I need to tell you guys something," Sammi said, wiping away any food from the corner of her mouth. Her parents and Athena's eyes were all on her. Athena frowning deep while their parents kept no hard looks, only curiosity on them.

"What is it, Sammi?" asked Mr. Bass.

"I'm not gonna be here for Christmas," Sammi said, pressing her lips together. Her eyes shifted to Mr. and Mrs. Bass, eyes shot up while Athena frowned deeper.

"Oh? And where will you be?" asked Mrs. Bass, holding her hands together on the table with amusement.

"Idaho," Sammi smiled, taking another bite of the food she cooked tonight.

"And what's in Idaho? Or who for that matter?" Mr. Bass asked, smiled. Athena dropped her fork and knife on the plate, crossing her arms tightly against her chest.

"Nikki invited me to spend Christmas with him and his grandparents. They live in Idaho in the middle of nowhere. You guys aren't mad I'll be missing Christmas, right?" Sammi said with worry.

"Oh no, Sammi! It'll be fun! You'll get to have a white Christmas for once," Mrs. Bass says, reaching over to squeeze Sammi's hand. "Of course I will miss my little lovebug. We'll have a personal Christmas for when you come back,"

"Do you have enough warm clothes? I wouldn't want you freezing up there," Mr. Bass asked, taking a bite of his food. "Open land near Canada is just the perfect place for snow,"

"Yes I do. Nikki warned me to buy a lot of winter clothes. He said it can get to 7 degrees. I bought a whole bunch of coats for the trip,"

"Wear extra socks. If you have the flu when you get back, I'm going to have a word with Nikki," Mr. Bass with humor, pointing his fork at Sammi as he looked over his glasses.

"And when will you be leaving? How long are you going to stay over there?" Mrs. Bass asked.

"The 23rd. It'll give Nikki enough time to rest from his Florida flight and pack again. He wants to stay until the 30th so we don't deal with crazy airport traffic on the way home," said Sammi, glancing up at Athena as she ate her food.

"Sounds like a good plan. Hopefully, you two don't get any delays from the weather," Mr. Bass said. Sammi only smiled and continued to finish her food, glancing up to see Athena sulking in her seat.

"You don't think it's weird that Sammi's going to spend a holiday with him? She's supposed to be with family. Not a random guy," Athena said, pursing her lips out and sucking her teeth as she glared at Sammi. Sammi matched her sister's eyes, keeping a tight grip on her fork. "I mean you two haven't even met him,"

"He's not a random guy. We've met Nikki before on a few short occasions. Seems like a nice young man. Quiet but still nice. And I trust Sammi's decisions to be around him," Mrs. Bass said.

"See Athena? People like Nikki," said Sammi, sucking her teeth.

"And Athena be respectful. Nikki is your brother and sister's closet friend, you can to say his name," said Mr. Bass

"But I don't like him! And I don't like Sammi ditching us to go and play house with a rock star," Athena barked in Sammi's direction.

"Athena!" Mrs. Bass shouted frowning.

"I'm not playing house! Nikki's grandmother said he could bring a friend and he asked me,"

"A friend or a girlfriend? Because what grandmother just suggests that unless Nikki talked them into it?" Athena asked.

"Nikki isn't my boyfriend. And it's called being nice and hospitable to their grandson. Something you know nothing about with your ugly attitude," Sammi said.

"Samantha, that is enough," Mr. Bass uttered under his breath.

"And when did Nikki ask you? Was it in Vegas or maybe another time you snuck away to see him without telling anyone? Was it after Tommy caught you two in the elevator together or before?" Athena asked.

"Why should I tell you? I thought you didn't want to hear it?" Sammi said in a mocking voice.

"And I told you to stop talking about it! No one cares!"

"Fine then bud out of my life and shut up!"

"Fine!"

"Girls!" Mr. and Mrs. Bass yelled in unison, causing each daughter to look at one parent. "You two shouldn't be arguing like this. Athena, apologize to your sister," Mr. Bass told Athena.

"What? Why?!"

"Because you're being rude to Sammi about matters that do not involve you. If she wants to be around Nikki, then leave her to it. You shouldn't be giving relationship advice in the first place," Mr. Bass said, pressing his lips firmly together.

Athena rolled her eyes. "No. I'm not apologizing for giving my opinion about Nikki,"

"Athena, you have the right to an opinion but your father is right. It's her and Tommy's decision to be around Nikki. If your sister wishes to spend her time with that boy, then that's just how it's going to be," Mrs. Bass advised in a soft voice.

"You two don't even know him! He's not good! He's crazy and mean to everyone!"

"Jesus. You sound just like Amanda," Sammi mumbled, pushing herself out of her seat and grabbing her half-finished plate.

"Well, maybe she had some points!" Athena shouted out to Sammi as she left the dining room. Sammi threw away the rest of the food in the trash, trying not to drop the glass plate in the sink, keeping in mind how it could break. Mrs. Bass cautiously walked into the kitchen, placing a hand on Sammi's shoulder. Sammi only stayed looking out the kitchen window, trying to eavesdrop on what her father was telling Athena.

"I know it may seem like this can last forever, but Athena will come around," Mrs. Bass reassured.

"And what makes you so sure of that, Mama?" Sammi asked, meeting her mother's gaze.

"Because she's your sister. You only have each other,"

"Yeah well I'm not going to hold my breath," Sammi said, turning on the faucet for warm water and began washing the dishes.

December 23rd, 1985

Van Nuys, California

Sammi yawned out loud, laying down on Nikki's clean sheets as she waited for the man to finish packing his winter bag. Nikki smirked at Sammi's sleepiness, beginning to feel the excitement of spending almost a week with his two favorite people, well three. Nikki grabbed the checklist he wrote down on the plane, double-checking in his mind that everything was already packed.

"Excited to see your grandparents?" Sammi asked, resting her head on a pillow. Nikki sat down by Sammi, moving his suitcase to the middle of the bed.

"Yeah. I haven't seen them in what feels like forever. Especially spending a Christmas with them. Are you still nervous about meeting them?" Nikki asked, laying against the silk pillows.

"A little bit. I know you said that they'll love me but I've never met someone else's family like this,"

"Oh come on. You've done the whole meeting the parents with your old boyfriends before?"

"Not really. Hate to break it to you but I rarely had boyfriends in high school or even before I met you,"

"Bullshit! I don't believe you,"

"I'm serious! Vince has been my only real boyfriend, and I barely even saw his family when we were together,"

"Damn. Well if it makes you feel better, you're my only girlfriend meeting Nona and Tom. Also the first to meet Deana but she doesn't count for shit," Nikki said, scrunching his brows together at Sammi's quizzical grin. "What?"

"I'm your girlfriend?" Sammi asked, raising an eyebrow. "This is news to me,"

Nikki rolled his eyes, clearing his throat as he looked away from Sammi. "I think it's pretty clear to everyone that you're my girl. Don't act so surprised,"

"Okay! I won't act surprised. Boyfriend," Sammi said with a shit-eating grin.

"So what was little Sammi like in high school to not get a boyfriend?" Nikki asked, pinching Sammi's cheek. Sammi playfully shoved Nikki's hand away from her, acting annoyed even when not.

"Almost like when you met me except quieter with way less attitude. I just studied. Played volleyball. Stayed with my clique all four years. Worked when I was bored and wanted money. I had guys to mess around with but it never lasted more than 2 months," said Sammi. "What about you? What were you like in high school? I bet you had girls throwing themselves at you, wanting to try a bad boy out," Sammi asked, resting on her stomach.

"Well remember, I didn't finish high school. Mainly I would get into fights with guys who stared me down, and steal their girlfriends when they were bored. Be around random guys who didn't want to be in school. That's it. You think we would've hung out in high school?"

"Nik, we're five years apart. We wouldn't be in high school together, that would be illegal,"

"Can you just answer the question without pointing out the obvious, Ms. Bubble Burster?"

Sammi rolled her eyes. "Fine. No, I don't think we would have in high school at all. I hung out with the popular sporty girls whose favorite pastime was being judgy. I would've stayed far away from you unless you became friends with Tommy. Maybe have a secret crush on you,"

"Ouch. Why don't you rip my heart out while you're at it? Right after I called you my girlfriend", Nikki asked, clenching his chest, making Sammi laugh at him.

"Oh shush you'll be fine. Just wait until we're both in Idaho and you'll forget about it," Sammi said, crawling over to kiss Nikki lightly on the lips.

"Speaking of which, I should call the cab already. Are you sure you've packed one hundred percent?" Nikki asked, pushing himself off the bed and zipping up his filled suitcase.

"Yes I am. I'm not going to be freezing my ass off the entire time we're there. I'm ready to sleep for the entire plane ride," Sammi said, stretching her arms over, walking over to Nikki, where she wrapped her arms around his waist from the back. Sammi pressed her chin on Nikki's back, hopeful that the few days can make Nikki forget about the little thing that strained them. He hadn't spoken about it when they called each other, but Sammi told herself that Nikki was a big boy who could take care of himself. She just needed to keep telling herself that.

Middle of Nowhere, Idaho

Sammi held her breath as Nikki drove down the dark, icy roads, scared whenever the rental pick up truck felt like it would skid off into the snowy fields. Nikki knew how to go in this weather, but it didn't stop Sammi from her fear, Nikki glancing every so often to see Sammi's face. He laid a hand on her thigh, whipping his head when Sammi winced away from his touch.

"Both hands on the wheel," Sammi pointed, frowning as she looked out to the white surroundings. Nikki wanted to object but still listened, placing his hands at ten and two.

"Babe, I've driven down these roads more times than you can count. The truck has its brand snow tires and the roads are clear as day," Nikki reassured. "We're going to be fine,"

"That still doesn't ease my mind. You're driving in the dark. And aren't you scared about the black ice?"

"Nope. I'm driving at a nice and for once slow speed to be careful. Besides we're not that far from Tom and Nona's place,"

"How can you even tell? Everything looks the same," Sammi said, changing the radio when static began playing.

"Ya see here city girl, you have to look at the trees and other things to know where you are. You recognize the landmarks of everyone's farm," Nikki said with what Sammi thought could be an Idaho accent. Sammi rolled her eyes, trying not to giggle at being called a city girl, knowing it would encourage Nikki.

"We get it, Country Boy, this isn't L. A or California anymore. The place where there are buildings and people. Maybe even some street lights to see what's going on,"

"Exactly. This country boy knows where we're going. Plus, I gave my grandparents a wood carven sign last Christmas to put in their entranceway," Nikki smiled almost cocky, laughing boyishly at Sammi's annoyed face.

"You're such a little shit," Sammi mumbled, taking off her seatbelt and scooting close to Nikki, putting her head on his shoulder. "Wake me up when we're there,"

"Alright, Sleeping Beauty,"

*

"There's my son! Tom come on, they're here!" Nona yelled out into the two-story farmhouse, standing on the brown wooden wrap-around porch. Tom pushed open the fence gate door, zipping up his heavy coat. Nikki drove through the bumpy pathway that Tom cleared up, laughing every time he and Sammi jumped in their seats. Nikki pulled up close to the front porch, flipping off the ignition, headlights turning off. Sammi jumped out of the pickup, eyes looking down with amazement at her boots, stepping onto the ankle-deep snow. Sammi tried to walk on perfect balance, realizing how difficult it was to maneuver on the ice. Nikki helped by lacing his mitten fingers around Sammi's hand, smiling at Nona and Tom.

"Hi, Nikki!" Nona said in excitement, giving Nikki a big hug on the porch steps patting his back to get rid of any fallen snow. Nona quickly took note of Sammi, wanting to match the same affection she had to Nikki for Sammi, but waited for Nikki to introduce the girl. The couple finally took cover under the porch, Sammi keeping quiet with a soft smile. Tom gave Nikki a quick hug, wanting to head inside to feel the fire he just started.

"Hey, Nona. Hey, Tom. There's someone I'd like you to meet," Nikki said, squeezing Sammi's hand. "This is Sammi. My girlfriend," Sammi waved at the older couple, nervous but noticing how they both smiled happily at the two.

"Hi! It's so good to meet you two. Nikki's said so many things about you guys," Sammi said, reaching out for Nona's hand. Nona shoved Sammi's hand away, wrapping her in a tight hug, cupping her cheeks to look at Sammi.

"Well aren't you just the prettiest. I'm happy to finally meet you," Nona said, kissing Sammi on the cheek. Nona almost passed Sammi to Tom, the older man hugging the small girl at a fast speed. "Nikki has said some things about you too. How about you ladies head inside, Nik and I will get the luggage," said Tom, squeezing Sammi's shoulder.

"Are you sure? I don't mind helping Nikki out myself," Sammi asked as Nikki and Tom carefully stepped down on the frozen steps.

"Oh don't be crazy, let the men do the heavy lifting. I'm sure you're starving. I have chicken pot pies staying warm in the oven," Nona said, softly holding Sammi's arm, leading her into the country style home. The house felt warm, cozy with old wooden style furniture and a brick fireplace. Nona pointed at the coat rack near the door as she disappeared in the kitchen, Sammi scanning the home. It was decorated for Christmas, a green garland wrapped around the staircase with lights. The smell of pine-scented the front of the house, the Christmas tree decorated with white and red bulb ornaments in the living room corner. The gifts Nikki sent out a week before already arranged perfectly under the tree. Sammi sat down at the dining table right in front of the kitchen, peeking over to see if Nona needed help with anything. The chicken pot pie smell wafted through the air, making Sammi's stomach rumble with hunger. Nona placed a hot ramekin on the placemat in front of Sammi, setting an olive green cloth napkin and silver fork.  

"Thank you, Mrs…?"

"You don't need to finish Mrs part, just call me Nona like everyone else. Would you like some iced tea to drink?" asked Nona, fixing her circle-shaped glasses.

"Oh no, I'm good for right now. Thank you so much for dinner. It smells amazing," Sammi said, crack opening the pastry pie crust with the fork, hot steam escaping its shell. She blew on the food in an attempt to cool it, not wanting to burn herself. With one bite, her eyes shot wide to Nona, chewing the juicy chicken.

"Wow, this is really good. I've never had chicken pot pie before," Sammi said, wiping her mouth with the napkin.

"Really? What does your mom cook for you and your siblings then?" Nona asked, placing the rest of the chicken pot pies for Tom and Nikki, sitting right by Sammi.

"She's from Greece so basically every kind of food from there. But I'm definitely adding this to my list of recipes when I get home," Sammi said, taking another bite of food as she could hear Nikki and Tom walk into the home.

"So I assume you're a little chef," Nona asked. Sammi nodded with food in her mouth, looking up beside her when Nikki and Tom entered the dining room. Nikki sat right by Sammi, taking off the wool gloves and breathing to warm his fingers up.

"Nik, you didn't tell me Sammi liked to cook. I'm going to have fun with her on Christmas eve dinner," Nona said with a smile, walking into the kitchen to quickly grab a jug of iced tea. Nikki only began eating, starving from the lack of a proper home-cooked meal that belonged to Nona. Tom started to eat at his own pace.

"That's because Sammi only cooks when she wants to be nice to me," Nikki said, taking another piece of chicken pot pie. Sammi stuck her tongue out at Nikki, making Tom chuckle a little.

"Sounds like Nona when I first met her. She'd only make her specialties when I'd bring her flowers as a thank you," Tom said, grabbing the iced tea that Nona offered him.

"That's because it rarely happened," Nona teased, admiring the happy people eating the food she prepared with love. "The food turned out great for everyone?" Nikki, Sammi, and Tom all nodded in silence, enjoying the savory, creamy dinner.

"Like always, Nona," Nikki said, earning himself a kiss on the crown of his head. "You're not gonna eat?"

"Oh don't worry about me, Nik. I'll be fine," Nona said, sitting right next to Tom.

"So Sam, tell us a bit about yourself? Do you work or are you in school or both?" Tom asked, sipping on the iced tea. Sammi wiped the corner of her mouth, standing up straight in her seat.

"I was in school. I graduated in May and decided to take a year off. I'm actually a secretary at Elektra. Nikki's manager helped me get the job," Sammi answered.

"What degree did you graduate with? Nikki's went on about how you're a smart girl," Nona asked, smirking when Nikki glared at her with subtle annoyance.

"Biology with a minor in Chemistry. I was aiming to become a vet, but I'm not so sure anymore,"

"Well don't worry about not being sure, you're young. You have a whole life ahead of you to decide what you really want," said Tom.

"And with smarts like yours, you'll be just fine!" said Nona, slowly collecting Tom and Nikki's empty plate. Immediately Sammi jumped from her seat, tucking her and Nikki's empty glasses between her arm, grabbing empty ramekins. "Oh, you don't have to clean up, Sammi!" Nona said, about to take the dirty dishes from the young girl.

"I insist, Nona. Take it as my way of saying thank you for letting me in your home," Sammi said, smiling at Nona as the two walked into the kitchen. Sammi carefully laid the ceramic dishes into the sink, looking around for any dish soap.

"It's Tom's turn to load the dishwasher, sweetheart. You can just leave dishes there," Nona said, placing the glass cups and the other dishes. "I'm glad Nikki is looking good after the whole Deana incident. He does look a bit skinny though," Nona said, pouring a glass of iced tea for herself. Sammi leaned against the sink, folding her arms as she remembered the event and let out a sigh.

"I really didn't know how to react when I saw her. I'd never seen Nikki look so shocked and numb before. He broke a whiskey bottle right in front of her," Sammi said, looking down at her winter boots.

"Nikki had a right to be shocked and angry. She may be my daughter, but sometimes I just want to shake her for treating her son so poorly. He's lucky you were there," Nona said, giving Sammi a quick sympathetic grin. "Nikki needs someone there to lift him up. I know he can be a little hard on himself,"

"Well, I'm happy to be there for him. But can I ask a question?" Sammi asked, Nona, nodding for approval. "How was Deana like with Nikki when he was younger? He hasn't really told me anything. It's kind of like pulling teeth with him sometimes,"

"Deana was like a swing with Nikki. She'd say how much she loved her son but then leave him here or put him on a bus by himself. Nikki always wanted to be with her, but I think once he turned a certain age, Nikki could see the truth. So he didn't want to be around her,' Nona said.

"And what about his sister or 'half' like how Nikki always says?"

"Oh, she'd stay with Deana. We rarely had her stay with us like we did Nikki. But of course, if you ask Deana about any of this, she'll say that Tom and I convinced Nikki to be mean to her. All we did was just remind Nikki the door was always open when he wanted to getaway. I love that boy like he was my own son. He pretty much is our son,"

"I think it's amazing how much you both raised Nikki. I know it's made me realize how lucky I am to have my mom and dad,' Sammi said, smiling with sad eyes. Nona patted Sammi on the arm, leaving her cup in the sink right on time for Nikki and Tom to enter the kitchen. "Nikki, perfect timing. I was just about to take Sammi to the living room, and show her some of your baby photos," Sammi shot wide with a grin at Nikki, seeing his frown of embarrassment.

"Uh, I don't think Sammi wants to see any old photos of me," Nikki objected, sliding his arm behind Sammi's back, escorting her out of the kitchen. Sammi turned on her heels, stopping Nikki with a hand on his chest.

"Oh no, on the contrary, Sammi would love to see old photos of you," Sammi said, smiling at Nona. "Come on, a few photos of baby Nikki. Please?" Sammi asked with puppy dog eyes to Nikki.

Nikki huffed out. "Fine, but I'm showing them. Don't want you pulling the ones I hate out of thin air," Nikki told Nona, guiding Sammi out of the kitchen. Tom smiled at the two, kissing Nona on the cheek.

"Does she get the grandmother's approval?" asked Tom, starting to set up the dishwasher.

"I think she does. I can already see a difference in Nik," said Nona.

Nikki and Sammi walked into the cozy living room, freshly vacuumed carpet and Santa Claus statues placed randomly. Sammi sat down on a soft brown loveseat, taking off her heavy boots, glancing at the many framed photos scattered around. The fireplace began losing its flame, Nikki chucking in another log to keep the warmth going, shuffling the burning pieces with the fire iron.

"Oh my god, look at you!" Sammi exclaimed, seeing a yearbook photo right on the fire mantle. Nikki appeared around seven years old in the picture, giving a tiny smile to the camera in his best attire. His hair looked like it was ready for the military, a short blondish square buzz cut that showed Nikki's big forehead. Nikki withheld a groan, wanting to chuck the photo in the fire. "Aww, you're so cute! Nice hair cut by the way," Sammi teased, poking Nikki with her elbow.

"You can thank Tom for that. I hated when my hair looked like that, and it looked like that for years," walking down the mantle to show more photos of young Nikki (or Frank).

"But why? It looks adorable on you," Sammi said in a mocking tone, smiling at Nikki. Nikki pushed up his black hair away from his face, facing Sammi to show his bare forehead. Sammi's loud laugh escaped her lips, finding Nikki's embarrassment amusing to her. Nikki glared right at Sammi, cocking his head to one side. "Does this answer your question? I have a big ass head if you haven't already noticed," said Nikki. Sammi balanced on tippy-toes, kissing Nikki right in the middle of his forehead, then a kiss on the lips. Nikki blushed, dropping his hair, tickling Sammi's face.

"I like your big head. It adds character even though we all know you have plenty of that," Sammi said, stepping away to continue the galley of Nikki. Sammi could see Deana in some of them, looking like a normal mother with her parents by her side.

"Yeah yeah. Keep complimenting me, and maybe I'll upgrade your Christmas gifts," said Nikki, rolling up his sweater's sleeves. Sammi smirked and raised an eye, strolling her way right to Nikki, placing her chin on his chest.

"Well, I like your big head. And I love your big rough hands. And I especially love your big hard-"

"Nona! Tom!" Nikki shouted, hugging Sammi around her shoulders as he smiled at his grandparents like a little boy almost getting caught in mischief. Sammi hugged Nikki, trying not to turn crimson red from the thought Tom and Nona heard her, smiling at the two. "We were just talking about going sledding tomorrow,"

"Tomorrow is perfect for sledding. You can show Sammi the hill you and I would always go to when you were young," Tom said, relaxing on the floral velour recliner.

"That sounds like a great idea, but it's getting late and we need to tell you two about the room situation," Nona addressed, shifting her eyes Nikki and Sammi, pushing up her glasses. Nikki scrunched his eyebrows at Nona, Sammi staying silent. "Now you two aren't married and will be sleeping under our roof. So Nikki you'll be in your old room upstairs, and Sammi in our guest bedroom down here," Nona said, resting her hands on her hips.

"Oh come on, Nona. We aren't going to mess around, we're adults, not teenagers," Nikki objected, pursing his lips out.

"It's alright, Nikki. This is your grandparent's house and they have rules, so we have to follow them. That's just the way it is," Sammi reassured Nona, patting Nikki on the chest. Nikki scoffed, shrugging his shoulder as he let his arm fall from Sammi's frame.

"It's settled then. Sammi, come with me to the room. Nikki, be a gentleman and bring in Sammi's suitcases," Nona said, looping her arm around Sammis and pulling her into the hallway, smiling at Nikki. Nikki only huffed, looking at Tom raise his hands as if he was clueless, enjoying every second of the family.

*

The guest bedroom was small, reminding Sammi of her bedroom in her first apartment. The double bed was placed against the wall, a white iron bed frame that looked as old as the house. An oak armoire facing the door, where Sammi had her suitcase hidden away, stood in the corner. Sammi was already beginning to fall into a deep sleep, the moonlight cascading against her skin from the small window. A soft creak sound slowly made Sammi wake up, barely opening in her eyes. Then a male body jumped on the bed, hiding under the cover. Before Sammi could make a sound, Nikki covered her mouth, quietly laughing at her surprised face.

"What the fuck, Nikki?!" Sammi whispered, feeling Nikki wrap his arms around her waist.

"What? I got lonely up in my room. I missed having a warm body next to me. I haven't had one since Vegas," Nikki whispered, hiding his face in the nape of Sammi's neck, leaving tiny pecks.

"Nik, I don't want to get in trouble with your grandma. We're not married, remember?" Sammi reminded Nikki, bringing his face back to her line of vision.

"And whose fault is that huh? I did ask, remember?" Nikki asked, mocking Sammi's tone, kissing her on the lips. Sammi chuckled at Nikki, feeling her cheeks turn pink. "You have to admit it's fun sneaking in like this?"

"Whatever. You can stay, but make sure you wake up early to go back to your room," Sammi said, cuddling deeper into Nikki's chested, smelling his cologne on his long sleeve sleep shirt.

"Yes, dear," Nikki said, relaxing for some sleep.

December 25th, 1985

Christmas morning

"Okay, we got one last present under the tree! Who's the lucky winner?" Tom announced to the small group, all wearing their pajamas still. Nona in her recliner, while Nikki and Sammi sat on the floor by her. Everyone had been given an equal amount of gifts, five from each person with the added 'Nikki  and  Sammi' to Nona and Tom. Tom grabbed the small red metallic present, reading the name tag from arm's length. "To: Sammi, From: Nikki. Merry Christmas, Princess," Tom readout, shuffling through the torn gift wrapping, passing the box to Sammi. Sammi scowled quizzically at Nikki, ripping the pretty wrapping without a care of how lovely it looked. A thin black velvet box was revealed, making Sammi question more. Nikki only gave a smile, feeling prideful at what he got her. Once opening, Sammi gasped as she saw the necklace. A beautiful black heart pendant on a thin silver chain with tiny red rubies outlining the heart. The stone was custom made to be in the shape it was; Sammi carefully pulling out the necklace to hold for everyone to see. Nona was fast to recognize the stone, glancing at the necklace Nikki was wearing.

"That's cute. You two will be matching," Nona said, smiling proudly at Nikki.

"Do you like it?" Nikki asked, delicately taking the necklace from Sammi, clamping it around her neck.

"Yes! It's so pretty!" Sammi gleamed, kissing Nikki on the cheek and hugging him tightly.

"Now you'll also have powerful protection," Nikki said. "Merry Christmas,"

"Thank you," Sammi smiled, touching the necklace as she noticed Nona and Tom looking lovingly at the pair.

"Well if that's all for gifts, I'm going to start breakfast! Hope everyone is ready for pancakes!" Nona announced, carefully getting up from the recliner. Tom immediately helped at her side, taking hold of one arm. Nikki noticed the slowness of his grandmother but knew she wouldn't have admitted to anything.

"And don't worry Sammi, I'm helping out this time," Tom said as the old couple left to make breakfast.

"Are you loving Christmas so far?" Sammi asked Nikki.

"Yeah I can honestly say this has been the best Christmas I've had. I'm happy you're here to celebrate it with us," Nikki said, kissing Sammi on the lips and holding her hand.

"Of course. Maybe next year, Nona and Tom can come down to L.A for a 'warm' Christmas. Have them see your growing goth castle," Sammi suggested.

"I would love that," Nikki smiled, sighing out loud with contentedness, bringing Sammi into his chest as they watched the snowfall from the window. Everything felt perfect.  

[avasharpe]

Sugar and Salt

Chapter: Eight of Ten

Summary: The Lance-Sharpe household and Sara’s belly is getting bigger. Ava and Gary make room for Sara, Sin, and the new baby and the rest of their family learns about their secret.

Fandom: DC’s Legends of Tomorrow.

Relationship: Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe and Amaya Jiwe/Zari Tomaz.

Characters: Sara Lance, Ava Sharpe, Sin Lance, Gary Green, Amaya Jiwe, Leonard Snart, Quentin Lance, Dinah Lance, Dot Heyward, Nate Heyward, Hank Heyward, and Kendra Saunders.

Chapter Rating: General Audiences.

Additional Tags: Bakery and Coffee Shop, Mutual Pining, Non-binary character, Trans Character, Fake Marriage, But Real Feelings, Food.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

……………………………………………………………………

“Hey,” Ava said as she swung open the door to greet Sara and Sin. Sin gave her a wave before running off to find Gary and Sara let out of breath as she stepped past her into the house.

“We have got to tell the kids today,” Sara said, spinning around to look at her as Ava closed the door.

“What? I thought we agreed on next week. I know we’re into the second trimester now, but we just have one more week left of school and then we’re in the clear,” Ava said, crossing her arms as they stood in the hallway.

“Well, we’re going to have a hard time keeping this from them,” Sara said as she pulled up the black blouse that hung off her frame to reveal her baby belly, not a bump, a full belly, that rounded out from under her ribs.

“Your showing!” Ava instantly smiled as she walked up and put her hand on Sara’s belly. 

“Yeah,” Sara said, breaking out into a smile as well. “I noticed that I was showing last week, but since then, they’ve just gotten bigger.”

“Yeah, that’s partly because it’s your second,” Ava said, still marveling at their baby.

“I never got this big until I was about fifteen weeks along with Sin. Hey, do you still have that bouillon chicken base from the soup you made last weekend?” Sara asked, turning away and already heading towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s in the fridge,” Ava said, dutifully following her. “Well Gary was bigger than Sin so this one is bound to be bigger too, but hopefully not by much.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I can’t believe he was over nine pounds, I got so big with Sin and she was only seven pounds. I can’t imagine how big I’m going to get with this one, and there is no way I’m pushing out a nine pound baby.”

Sara opened the fridge and started rifling around as Ava smiled down at her belly. It was obviously there and was definitely noticeable as Sara had a flat stomach before. 

Sara found the jar of bouillon and turned around to grab a spoon from the drawer. She spun off the top and sank down to sit on the floor up against the cabinets. Then she grabbed a large spoonful from the jar, stuck it into her mouth, and sighed in content. Ava made a face, not knowing how Sara could eat the salty chicken flavored seasoning, but also knew how crazy pregnancy cravings could be. 

“How are you doing Sara?”

Sara sighed and looked up at her. “I’m pregnant.”

“I know,” Ava gave her a little smile and sat down next to her on the floor. “Anything else?”

“Well, I’m not throwing up anymore and now I eat everything in sight, but then I get heartburn. I’m getting big and I’m so hormonal. I bought a pair of compression socks because I’ve got Varicose veins,” Sara lamented as she swirled her spoon around the jar. “And I’m dizzy and I keep forgetting stuff and things, and with you and me and the kids. It’s just a lot right now.”

Ava put her arm around Sara’s shoulders. “Whatever you need right now, I’m here for you. I’ll get you a whole truckload of tums and those compression socks that are super cute. I’ll keep you steady, I’ll write you notes and set reminders, and I’ll help you in any way I can.”

Sara gave her a small smile and leaned her head against Ava’s shoulder. They sat against the kitchen cabinets until Sara’s ass started hurting. Ava pulled Sara into her lap and wrapped her arms around Sara’s waist, holding on to her as Sara closed her eyes. Ava thought she would fall asleep until Sara turned and looked up at her.

“I just can’t keep this a secret from the kids anymore. I hate lying to Sin about why I’ve been acting differently and why I’m sick. This morning, they asked me why my stomach was so big and I just froze. I wanted so badly to tell them the truth, but I didn’t. Instead, Laurel just told them that it was because I’ve been eating too much ice cream. I don’t know, I just want everything to be settled. I want us to be a family and I just, I don’t know.” 

As Sara spoke she cradled her belly and Ava put a hand over hers. “Also the nesting instincts have kicked in early and they are strong! I got out Sin’s old clothes, the bassinet, I even bought diapers, and I bought a set of mountain pictures to hang in the nursery. So I hope you like them because that’s our theme.”

Ava listened as Sara lamented to her and waited until she was sure Sara was done speaking. “I get it. I also kind of got a little carried away when I was cleaning out the spare room this weekend.”

“You got excited,” Sara said with a knowing smile.

Ava smiled down at her and their wonderful little surprise. She had forgotten how exciting it was to have a baby and she had gotten a bit swept up in putting together the baby’s room the past few days. She had brought out all of Gary’s old baby things into the new baby’s room. 

“Can I see it?” Sara asked, setting her snack down.

“Of course and I have a surprise to show you as well,” Ava said, getting up and holding out her hand to Sara who rejected it. 

With one hand on the counter and the other cradling her belly, Sara got up by herself. “I’m not helpless yet.”

“I can’t imagine you ever being helpless.”

Sara just smiled at her and put the chicken bouillon away. Ava made a mental note to break out a new one before she started on dinner that night. She led Sara up the stairs and down the hall. They passed Gary’s room and peeked in on him and Sin setting up a Lego City. 

When they got to the door, Ava had Sara close her eyes. Ava put an arm around her waist and led her into the middle of the room, where Sara could get a view of everything.

“Okay, open them.”

Sara opened her eyes and looked around the room. Ava had bought out the old rocker and placed it in the corner, there was a little bookshelf, and a bare white crib was up against the wall. She had opened a few boxes of old baby clothes and the few toys that she had and put them on the shelf. It looked like the beginnings of a nursery and the photo of all four of them that hung above the crib brought it all to life. 

The photo was one that Ava had captured rather spontaneously while the four of them were at the park last weekend. Both Gary and Sin smiled up at the camera as Ava and Sara stood behind them. They each had one hand on each kid’s shoulders and one hand on Sara’s belly. Sara walked up to it and put her hand over her mouth and Ava could see the tears welling in her eyes.

Ava came up behind her and put her arms around Sara’s waist. She pulled her blouse and put her hands on her belly, cradling it. Sara’s belly was just big enough to fit in both of her hands. 

“It’s us as a family, all five of us.” 

“Yeah,” Sara whispered as she stared up at the photo.

They stayed like that, staring up at the picture, and Sara put her own hands over Ava’s. They had only just agreed a few weeks ago that Sara and Sin would move in with her and Gary before fall. Ava had also cleared out the other guest bedroom for Sin and made space for Sara in her room. The kids already knew that they were dating and the four of them were all getting along better than they could have imagined. 

“Hey Ava, can Gary and I go jump on the trampoline?” Sin called out as they came barreling down the hallway and into the room with Gary behind them.

Ava quickly removed her hands from Sara’s belly, but Sara’s sweater stayed up, leaving the very evident bump. There was no hiding it. With all of the baby clothes, the crib, and Sara’s belly, it was obvious. 

“What’s all this?” Sin asked, looking around the room and then over at them. 

“Yeah, Mama?” Gary said, stepping into the room and picking up one of the toys on the shelf. “Why do you have all this baby stuff?” 

Sara looked over at Ava and Ava looked back at her. “Sin, Gary, we have something to tell you.”

……………………………………………………………………

Sara sat down on the coffee table in the living room with Ava next to her. She took a deep breath and thought about what to say. Ava’s knees bounced and Sara put a hand on her knee, soothing her. Ava glanced over at her and Sara gave her a reassuring smile, hiding her own nerves. 

“Gary, Sin,” Sara started, unsure how to break the news to them. She had just blurted it out to Ava, but she didn’t want to shock them.

Ava looked over at her and squeezed her hand. Sara nodded and took a deep breath with her as they turned back to the kids.

“You two know that Sara and I were dating before we told you guys about us. We wanted to make things work out between us so that we knew for sure we could all be together,” Ava said, as she talked in a steady clear voice.  “But that’s also because we’re going to have a baby, and you two are getting a new baby sibling. Since we’re having a baby, things are going to change around here.”

Ava explained it so well and Sara just watched her talk. She had this whole big speech that she had more or less come up with on the spot, and it was perfect. Sin and Gary seemed to take things in strides and nodded along at certain parts, but looked confused at others, so Sara jumped in and added to Ava’s explanation. They both talked together and parented together for the first time. It came so naturally to them and Sara took a second to smile over at Ava. They were officially a team, and soon they’d be a family. 

“So, because the baby needs both of its Mom’s, we need to live together when the baby comes in December. It wouldn’t be right away, and we’ll see how it goes. We want to do this because if we live together, we can take care of the baby and you and Gary. You both will get the same amount of time with your new sibling and you can get some special time with each one of us. We don’t want either of you to feel left out.” Sara explained to them as she put a hand on her belly now that she could without worrying about what Sin or Gary would think.

The kids seemed to be in a bit of shock as they just sat and looked up at both of them with different expressions. Sara watched each of them process it at different rates, before Gary smiled widely, while Sin still processed it. 

“A baby?” Gary asked as he wiggled with excitement.

“Yeah, bud a baby,” Ava said, with a nod that matched his excitement. 

“Wait, so we have to move in with Ava and Gary?” Sin asked, throwing out their hands. 

“It wouldn’t be right away, probably in a couple of months, but I’m telling you now because I want to know if it would be okay with you?” Sara leaned forward to hold Sin’s hands. 

“Would I have to share a room with Gary or the baby?”

“No, we have enough bedrooms so there’s one for you too. I actually cleaned it out and was wondering if you wanted to pick out a color for it?” Ava added, looking over at Sara briefly.

Sara nodded and they both looked back at Sin who was doing some more thinking. 

“I don’t know.” 

“That’s okay, honey,” Sara said, giving their hands an extra squeeze. “We can try it out and see how it goes okay?”

Sin nodded and sat back against the couch. 

“How did the baby get in your tummy?” Gary asked, his question like a record scratching.

“Did you have sex?” Sin asked, Sara had given them the sex talk, along with the period and babies talk a couple of months ago.

“What’s sex?”

Ava looked over at her with wide eyes and Sara met Ava’s anxious expression with a shrug. Sin was old enough for the talk and Sara had told them that it was an adult act. But, she was never one to beat around the bush when it came to how bodies worked. 

“It’s a grown-up thing,” Ava said as she struggled to find the words to explain it. 

“Like kissing?” Gary asked, tilting his head as his eyebrows knitted together. 

“Yes,” Ava said, smiling as she relaxed, leaving her explanation at that.

“No,” Sara interrupted, she could tell where this was going and watched as Sin and Garry got more and more confused. “Do you remember when I said that not every parent wanted their kids to know about it until they were ready?”

“Yeah,” Sin said with a nod, seeming to understand it more. “We were talking about delaying puberty hormones for me too.”

“Mama you take hormones because you used to be a boy,” Gary said, the look of confusion was gone and he seemed to be happy to understand what they were talking about.

“That's right,” Ava said, reaching over to grasp Sara’s hand and smiling as she whispered ‘thank you,’ to her. Sara nodded and they turned back to the kids together as Ava spoke. “I'm transgender which means that I take hormones to help me feel more like a girl.”

“But that still doesn't explain why the baby is in Sara's tummy?” Gary said, with a shrug. 

Sara and Ava smiled and Sara pulled up her shirt and pointed to her baby bump. “The baby is growing in my uterus, here. Right now the baby is still very small, about the size of a pear. They need to be inside me to grow. Like how a plant doesn't come out of the ground until it's ready, the baby won't come out of my uterus until they grow big enough to live outside of me.”

“Oh,” both kids said as they sat back, seeming content with everything Sara and Ava had said. 

Sara looked over at Ava and Ava nodded at her. They both let out a sigh of relief, having done the hard part of all of this. 

“Do you guys have any more questions?”

“What’s sex?” 

“I’ll tell you later Gary,” Ava quickly said, silencing everyone including Sara with a look.

Sara sighed and leaned forward towards Sin. “Do you have any questions kiddo?”

“No, I think I get it.”

“Good.”

“That’s great,” Ava said, clapping her hands together. “But remember the baby is still a secret, so we’re not going to tell anyone right away.”

“But Auntie Laurel knows, so it’s okay to talk to her about this,” Sara added as Ava looked over at her surprised. “She fingered it out when I threw out her candle.”

“Wait, so is Sin going to be my sibling?”

“Kind of, if you want them to be,” Ava said, with a smile, and Sara could see how happy she was that their family was coming together.

“They can be your sibling like the baby or you could call them your Nibbling like Aunt Laurel calls you her Niblett,” Sara offered Gary the options as he smiled.

“Like a chicken nugget?” Gary asked with a giggle.

“I mean, not really,” Sara said, trying to think of a better way to explain it to him, but Gary and Sin broke out into giggles and fell back onto the couch.

“Gary I’m your nugget. Bak bak.”

“Well, then I’m going to eat you!” Gary declared, opening his mouth wide and pretending to bite at the air above Sin. 

“Bak bak.” 

“Nom nom.”

Ava looked mortified, but Sara couldn’t help but laugh as well. She got up and joined them on the couch, laughing and playing alone, by clucking at Sin. Ava let her embarrassment go and sat next to Sin, joining in on the fun. Sin would bak and Gary would open his mouth to bite the air and even Sara joined in with a cock-a-doodle-doo and Ava pretended to bite at Sin and Sara. 

The giggles seemed to never end because as soon as things settled down, one of them would start it all over again. Eventually, they sat down together. Sin leaned against Ava at one end of the couch and Ava put her arm around them. Sara laid down on the other end and Gary crawled over to lay next to her and put his hand on her belly. 

“Hi baby, I’m your brother Gary and I love you,” Gary said, leaning down to kiss her belly.

Sara couldn’t hold back the tears that streamed down her cheeks and Ava looked up at her and rubbed her leg. She put one hand on Gary’s head and reached out to hold Sin’s hand as well. 

“The baby and I love you too Gary,” Sara whispered to him. “And Sin, we love you, and we love you too Ava.”

Ava paused and tears collected in her eyes too. It was the first time Sara had said that she loved her and Sara didn’t just say it to her, she said it to Gary too. It was all that Ava could have ever wanted.

“I love you too, and I love you Sin and you too Gary,” Ava said, never taking her eyes off of Sara, but reaching out to give both of the kid’s hands a little squeeze.

“Mama, you didn’t say I love you to the baby,” Gary said, sitting up and looking pointedly over at her. 

“And I love you too baby.”

Sara looked up and caught her eye as she smiled and brushed away her tears. Ava loved this woman, so much that it took her breath away and she loved the family that they now had.

Sara’s phone dinged and she looked away to read it. “Hey, do you want to meet my Dad at lunch next week?”

Ava paled, oh boy there was no way they were keeping the baby a secret. Not at the rate Sara was growing and with both kids knowing. So she would be meeting her girlfriend’s father while said girlfriend was visibly pregnant with her baby and both of their kids were bursting with excitement for a new sibling. Ava bit her lip and caught Sara’s eye. Sara looked over at her and she knew that it would mean the world to Sara if they met. 

“Yeah, just so long as he doesn’t yell at me for getting you pregnant,” Ava said, patting Sara’s legs. “And it would probably be good for you and Sin to meet my family as well.”

“We could meet everybody’s family all at once for a big family reunion,” Gary said, getting excited again and jumping off the couch to go grab one of the family photos Ava had on the mantle. 

Sara looked over at Ava a little apprehensively, and Ava shared in her worry. “We’re both adults and we have a plan. We’re not rushing into this and they have to be excited for a new grandbaby.”

“Yeah,” Sara nodded, still not completely sure about this, but on board with the plan.

“Yeah,” Ava nodded as well. “What was the worst that could happen?”

……………………………………………………………………

“Over here Papa,” Sin said, waving him over and Sara looked up to see her dad excitedly walking over to them.

It had been a few weeks since they had agreed to meet up with their families for lunch, and the day was finally here. They had arrived at the restaurant and had been seated in the backroom allowing for the private announcement. 

Sara took a deep breath and put a hand on her belly before moving it away. She had to remember that she couldn’t do that for the rest of the night until after they had announced it, as it was a dead giveaway to her pregnancy. She instead got up and greeted her father after he pulled Sin for a Papa bear hug and said hello to Laurel. 

“Hey Dad.”

“Hey sweetie,” Quentin said, leaning in to hug her.

“Hello Mr. Lance,” Ava said, holding out her hand for him to shake. Ava got up and stood tall next to her.

“You must be Ava,” Quentin said, looking her over with scrutinizing eyes as he shook her hand with a firm grip. 

“Yes sir,” Ava said, shaking his hand, probably with the same amount of force that he was using. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Ava. I’ve heard that you’ve been good to my daughter and grandchild,” Quentin said, as he gave her an approving nod and Sara let out a breath of relief.

“Well, they’re easy to be good too,” Ava said, looking over at Sara fondly, before putting her arm around Gary, who had shrunk back into his seat. “And this is my son Gary.”

Quentin gave him a more laid back and happy smile as he reached over to shake Gary’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you Gary.”

Gary smiled as he shook Quentin’s hand and relaxed against Ava’s side.

“Mom’s here,” Laurel said, giving them a heads up and they looked over to see Dinah walking towards them.

“Grammy!” Sin shouted, getting up and running over to her as Dinah crouched down and held her arms wide open for her grandchild. 

Sara always felt better when her mom was around. Growing up, Sara had always been particularly close to her Mom. Dinah was more accepting of Sara’s wild ways, letting her daughter experiment and make her own path. Dinah made it a point to visit them at least once a year. However, since she had moved to Central City after the divorce, Sara hadn’t seen her as often as either of them liked. So Sara was happy to have her back for a few days.

After having a little moment together, Sin and Dinah made their way back to the table where she quickly greeted Laurel and then Sara with a hug. As always Dinah took things with ease and greeted Ava.

“You must be Ava. I’ve heard such wonderful things about you from Sara and Laurel,” Dinah said, pulling her into a hug. 

Avis gave Sara a nervous smile over her shoulder but seemed to relax in Dinah’s arms.

As quickly and as warmly as she greeted Ava, Dinah also greeted Gary, holding out her hand for him instead of a hug as he had eyed Dinah warily. “And you must be Gary, Sin said you’ve been a good friend to them and that you enjoy magic.”

“Yeah, do you want to see this card trick I learned?” Gary said, instantly warming up to her.

“I’d love to,” Dinah said as he sat down next to Sin and Laurel.

Quentin quietly nodded at Dinah and they both exchanged a cordial hello. As both Dinah and Quentin settled at the table and Gary began to show him the card trick, Sara and Ava secretly shared a look. Ava smiled gently and she reached over to take Sara’s hands and put it over her belly. It was an action that eased both of their worries and Sara felt the baby flutter inside of her. 

“Two down,” Sara whispered to her.

“And two to go,” Ava whispered back, looking past her and waving to Dorothy and Hank as they walked into the restaurant. 

Both Sara and Ava got up at the same time to greet them. Sara straightened out her dress and tried to smile naturally. 

“Hello dear,” Dorothy said as she greeted Ava, pulling her in for a hug and a quick kiss to her cheek.

“Hi Mom,” Ava said, quickly pulling back and reaching out to shake Hank’s hand. “Hello Hank.”

“Ava, it’s good to see you, honey,” Hank said with a warm greeting, despite their formal handshake.

Sara stood nervously next to Ava and watched her parents greet her before they finally turned to her with warm eyes.

“Mom, Hank, this is Sara,” Ava said, introducing her and putting an arm around her waist.

“It’s so nice to meet you Sara,” Dorothy said, pulling Sara in for a hug.

“It’s nice to meet you as well Mrs. Heyward,” Sara said, trying to breathe as Dorothy squeezed her a little too tight.

“Oh please call me Dot. I’m only Mrs. Heyward at school,” Dot said, finally letting go of her and pulling back to smile warmly at her, putting Sara at ease.

“Sara, it’s good to meet you,” Hank said, holding out his hand for her to shake. He gave her a firm grip and a tight smile that Sara was expecting, given what Nate and Ava had said about their father. That he was a very formal man, but with a soft side that he reserved for only in private.

“It’s nice to meet you too Mr. Heyward,” Sara said as she retreated to Ava’s side. “Ava always speaks very fondly of both of you.” 

“Oh yes and Ava has said such nice things about you as well,” Dot said leaning back against Hank and putting a hand on his chest. “Hasn’t she Hank.”

“She has,” Hank said, merely acknowledging it.

Dot sent Sara a knowing smile and a wink, before going over and saying hello to Gary and Sin. Sara and Ava introduce both sets of parents to each other and so far everyone seemed to get along as they all sat down at the table. Ava pulled out Sara’s chair for her and Quentin noticed. He caught her eye and gave her an approving nod, to which Ava smiled and nodded back. 

“Where is Nathaniel,” Hanks said, looking around, as the waitress came over to take their drink orders.

“He is on his way Dad, everyone is a bit early.” Ava explained as she pulled out her phone to send Nate a quick text. 

“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute,” Dot said, as she sent Hank a look. 

Ava gave them a nervous smile and Sara put her hand between Ava’s shoulder blades, gently rubbing up and down.

“So Ava,” Dinah said, looking over at her pointedly. “Sara said you were Sin’s school teacher. Is that how you both met?”

Sara could see how the smile Ava had put on her face betrayed how nervous she was. “Actually we met at the bakery, two mutual friends of ours were getting together and Sara was kind enough to hang out with me.”

“That’s so sweet,” Dot said, putting a hand on her chest and tilting her head to smile at them. “Ava mentioned that you were a partner in the business, Jiwe’s Bakery, yes.”

“Yes, I run the business side of the bakery for Amaya Jiwe,” Sara replied, matching Ava’s nervous smile as she spoke.

“A small business, that’s a good nice stable job I’m sure,” Hank said in more of a questioning tone.

“It is,” Dinah answered for her. “And it pays more than a teacher’s salary I’m sure.”

Hank looked like he was about to reply with another quip, but Ava managed to cut them off. “The Star City school district pays quite well actually and if you’re asking whether I am financially stable I assure you I am.”

“Okay,” Sara said, holding her hand out before this turned into a full on argument. “Let’s just clear a few things up. Ava and I are both financially stable enough to provide for each other and our children. We have seriously considered this relationship and how it will affect our children. We’re both equally committed to each other and we love each other very much.”

The last part was said as Sara reached over to grab Ava’s hands and held it on the table. Ava looked at her with soft eyes and the first genuine smile Sara had seen since they had sat down. 

“Well, I guess that settles it, for now,” Quentin said, taking a sip of his water as the waitress came back to pass them around.

“I suppose so,” Hank said, as both of their families exchanged a mutual nod of agreement, and Sara and Ava let out a sigh of relief.

“Hey,” Nate said as he approached their table and leaned down to give Dot a quick kiss before he sat down. “I hope I didn’t miss anything.”

Sara couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in her throat and quickly hid it as she took a drink of her water. Everyone settled in and the rest of the meal went off without a hitch. Both of their families got to know each other as they talked and laughed and exchanged family stories. Ava looked over at Sara, putting an arm around her chair, she pulled her close and reached over to put a hand on Sara’s belly, under the table. 

When the waitress came and took away their plates, Sara and Ava gave Laurel the signal to take the kids for ice cream at the place across the street.

“Alright, who wants ice cream?” Laurel asked, standing up and grabbing her purse.

“I do, I do,” Sin said, jumping up and down in their seat.

“I can have two scoops, right Mama?” Gary asked, looking over at her. 

“Yes, I said you could baby,” Ava said smiled over at him as he wiggled with excitement.

“I think I’d like some ice cream too,” Quentin said, getting up from his seat.

“Actually Dad, why don’t we let Laurel and the kids go grab ice cream for us?” Sara said, trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing. Of course, her Mom picked up on it and sent her a questioning look, but grabbed Quentin’s arm and pulled him back down.

“Sara is right, let’s go,” Laurel said, ushering Gary and Sin out.

The mood in the room immediately shifted as Laurel and the kids walked out of the restaurant and then both sets of parents immediately turned their eyes to Sara and Ava. Ava took a deep breath. They had both agreed to speak together to both of their parents and had gone over what they would say on the phone the night before.

“Sara and I wanted you both to meet so that we could all get to know each other as a family, because we are going to be a family.” Ava began as she nervously looked between Sara’s parents, her own, and Nate who seemed to be stuck in the middle. 

“It wasn’t planned, but Ava and I have chosen to do this. We’ve fallen in love and are ready to have a family together.” Sara continued where she had left off and put a hand over Ava’s on her belly.

“Sara, sweetie,” Dinah interrupted her. “If you two want to get married...”

“It’s not that Mom,” Sara said, looking over at Ava who nodded at her. “I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby and co-parenting together.”

The silence that filled the room could have been cut with a knife. Even Dinah, who was never one to judge her daughter, sat in silence as she absorbed the news.

“Oh my God, congratulations,” Nate said with a large smile blooming across his face. He immediately got up and went over to wrap them both in a hug. 

“Thank you Nate,” Ava said as she and Sara let themselves smile and enjoy Nate’s enthusiasm. 

“This is so exciting! A new niece or nephew!” Nate said as he looked between both of them. 

“It is very exciting,” Dinah added as she stood up and walked over to them. “And as adults, I trust that you both know what you’re doing.”

Sara got up as her mother walked around and felt the stress fall off of her shoulders. No matter what, if Sara knew she had her Mom on her side, everything would be okay. Dinah pulled her in for a hug and when she pulled back, Sara pulled at her dress to outline her belly. Dinah gasped and placed her hand on her belly. Sara glanced up to see that everyone was looking fondly at her baby.

“Dinah is right. These two are both adults and they haven’t taken this lightly. We should trust them and support them,” Dot said, getting up and walking over to hug Ava and Sara as well. 

Ava let herself melt into her Mom’s arms. When she pulled back, she looked over at Hank and Quentin who seemed to still be mulling over the announcement.

“You both have thought this through?” Hank asked, looking over at them. 

“We have,” Ava answered, putting her arm around Sara's waist.

“Sara, can you promise me you won’t run out on my daughter?”

Sara glanced over at Ava and Ava knew from the loving look that Sara would never do that to her.  

“I can promise you that I love your daughter very much Mr. Heyward and I know what it takes to raise a child, as I have one of my own. I would never willingly abandon either of them.”

Hank gave her one of his signature approving nods, as he was never one for hugs.

Quentin was the last one to get up and walk around to them. 

“I want you to take care of my daughter and grandbabies,” Quentin said as he gave Ava a hard look.

“I will. I promise,” Ava said with a nod as she looked over at Sara with a fond smile.

Quentin’s hard look fell as he smiled and pulled both of them in for a hug.

“I suppose I shouldn’t judge, you’ve got everything figured out and I can see that you're not rushing into this,” Quentin said putting a hand on Sara’s belly. “Besides how can I be anything but happy when you're giving me another grandbaby.”

Laurel, Gary, and Sin came back at that moment, with ice cream across their faces. Quentin pulled his hand back and ruffled Sin’s hair as they handed him the ice cream. 

“Did you tell them about the baby?” Sin asked as Sara grabbed a napkin to wipe their face. 

“We did,” Ava answered with a smile as she did the same with Gary.

“I’m gonna have a new niece or nephew!” Nate said, practically bursting with excitement. 

“Or nibling.” Laurel added matching his smile as Quentin and Dinah looked over at her with the same amount of surprise that they had for Sara and Ava, and Laurel just shrugged. “Sara was terrible at hiding it.” 

“Yeah, I’m going to be a big brother,” Gary said standing up tall and proudly until Ava wiped his face.

“And I’m going to be a big chicken.” Sin loudly proclaimed to the whole restaurant. 

……………………………………………………………………

The doorbell rang and Sara smiled as she swung open the door to see Mick, Lisa, Lita, and Sin piled to the small hallway.

“Hey you, Sara said, putting her arms around Sin. “Did you have a good time ice skating?” 

Normally Sara would have gone with them to their ice skating rink, but with Laurel and Tommy off on a picnic lunch and Ava and Gary at some magic show that Constantine was putting on. Sara opted to spend the afternoon getting back into her workout routine and doing some sparing with Kendra. Something she had finally been able to do now that she was fifteen weeks along and in the second trimester. 

“Yeah, I was practicing going backward, but Uncle Mick made me wear too much protective gear and I couldn’t see,” Sin said with an eye roll. 

“Yeah, because protecting your head is such a drag.” Sara laughed and sent Mick a wink as he just smiled and nodded his head.

“You should have seen the butt pads your dad made me wear when I first started ice skating,” Lisa said, turning around and mimicking the butt pillow, earning a laugh from everyone around her. “Overprotectiveness runs in the family.”

“Yeah, well there’s a good reason for it,” Sara said as she took the backpack from Sin’s shoulders. “You guys are always getting into way too much trouble.”

“Trouble is part of the fun,” Lita said with a smile.

“We should get going. You said you had a summer reading list to start,” Mick said, putting a hand on Lita’s shoulders.

“Ugh, summer homework is the worst!” Lita scowled as she crossed her arms.

“We should do some reading too kiddo,” Sara said, as she ran a hand through Sin’s helmet hair. 

“Having your teacher date your mom is no fun,” Sin said as they scrunched up their face.

“Yeah, I’m out,” Lisa said, holding up her hands. “There’s a reason I went to Nationals and not college.” 

Sin turned and hugged Lisa, who gave them an extra squeeze and a wink before she pulled back and hugged Sara.

“Bye Sin,” Lita said, as they did, their special cousin’s handshake ending in a fist explosion.

“See ya kid and take care Blondie,” Mick said, with his usual nod of approval and gave her belly a little pat.

The little baby in her belly kicked and fluttered and Sara put a hand on her stomach, feeling them wiggle around. They all looked down at her belly and Lisa made little grabby hands before putting her hands on Sara’s belly. Lita did a modified version of the cousin’s handshake with her belly and Sin joined her for the last fist bump and explosion. Sara was relieved that they were so excited about the baby. They were also so supportive of her relationship with Ava and it meant the world to her.

“Bye!” Sin yelled after them with a wave, watching until they disappeared onto the elevator.

“It sounds like you guys have fun,” Sara said, as she shut the door and they walked back into the apartment.

“Yeah, but do I have to read?” Sin asked as they knelt down to take off their black converse.

“Why don’t you bring out your book and we can start reading together,” Sara offered, with a yawn and Sin nodded, before running off to their room. 

The sun streamed in through the windows and the heat seemed to seep in through the bricks. Sara propped up a box fan in the window and set it to blow on the couch as she sat down. It was one of those lazy Sundays where all you wanted to do was nap, but they had a book to read, so Sara settled in.

As she waited for Sin, thoughts of Leonard filled her mind. Now that she was pregnant again, she couldn’t help but remember what it was like when she was pregnant with Sin and the memories of Leonard that came with it. He was so sweet with her and helped her out with everything, from late night food runs, to doctors appointments, and getting the nursery put together. He would massage her feet and hold back her hair as she was sick. Leonard took care of her, and after she gave birth to continue to take care of her and Sin. Leonard was so in love with both of them and they were his world. 

Sara still dreams of him sometimes, and she often dreamed of the last day they were together. The way the waves sounded as they hit the rocky coast, the way they curved around the corners, the way the engine revved, and the way Leonard smiled over at her. 

He picked a spot just against the cliffs where they could watch the sunset and pulled her into his lap. She still remembered the way that he smelled, like wind and sea salt with touches of his cologne that lingered on his collar. She remembered the way he held her, whispered in her ear how much he loved her, and how much she meant to him. Sara felt like they would be together forever. He looked at her like no one else did. 

They stayed there till the night grew dark and he drove slowly around the curves as they drove home. He told her to go to sleep and relax, he’d carry her into the hotel and promise to wake her up if her Dad called about Sin. She drifted off, but the next thing she knew they were rolling over the road. She remembered how the blood was everywhere, and the car seemed to be smashed around them. She remembered how his arm was bracing her against the seat. She remembered screaming, trying to get him to wake up, but no matter how loud she screamed he didn’t wake up.

“Mom, Mom.”

Sara startled awake and sat up. She looked over to see Sin just standing next to her, looking just as frightened as she felt. Sara leaned forward and wrapped her arms around them, trying to hold back the sobs that shook her body. 

“I’m okay, it’s okay baby,” Sara said, she didn’t want to frighten them and took several deep breaths, to try and calm herself. “I’m sorry I scared you. It’s okay.”

“Did you have a bad dream?” Sin whispered as they patted her back. 

Sara took a deep breath and squeezed Sin a little tighter. “Yeah baby, but it’s all over now and it was just a dream.”

Sin nodded and wiggled out of her arms. “I’ll go get Leo.” 

They quickly rushed off and then came back with Leo the lion and the picture frame of Leonard and them that sat on their nightstand. 

“Here, Leo will scare all the nightmares away,” Sin said, as they crawled back into her lap.

Sara laughed as she placed Leo on her chest while holding the picture. Sara turned so they could both hold the lion and look at the photo. 

“Your Daddy was the best at scaring away the nightmares, wasn’t he,” Sara said as they looked down at the picture and Sin gently outlined his face with their finger.

“He still is,” Sin said, hugging Sara tighter. “Daddy will always watch over us and keep away the nightmares.”

“That’s right.” 

Sara held Sin and just watched them for a moment. Sometimes missing him felt like an ache in her soul. Having Sin around made it feel both better and worse. She had the best reminder of him and a lifetime of things he would never see them do. 

She barely even knew when the door to the apartment opened. She just assumed it was Laurel getting back, but was greeted by Gary rushing up to them. He leaned down, half falling on them, to wrap them both in a hug.

“Hello.”

“Gary, remember what we said about personal space,” Ava smiled as she walked over and picked Gary up, tickling his sides. 

Sara looked up at Ava and smiled, happy that she was there. Yet, Ava seemed to freeze at the sight of them and stared down at the photo in their hands. 

“Who’s that?” Gary said, pointing at Leonard in the photo as he wiggled out of Ava’s arms. 

“That’s my Daddy,” Sin said proudly. “He used to run a figure skating rink with my Aunt Lisa. He took her to nationals and he taught me how to ice skate. This is Leo, a part of my Daddy lives in him and he scares away the nightmares.” 

“Cool, it’s like magic.” 

“Yeah.” 

Sin and Gary continue to talk and Sara looked up at Ava who seemed to close herself off. She briefly caught Sara’s eye as she walked away. “I should get going on dinner or something.”

Sara just nodded, knowing Ava needed time. It was easier for her, Ava’s ex-wife was the bad guy and Sara didn’t have to like her. Ava’s past was all said and done. Even if they did have to see her again, Sara knew that she didn’t have to play nice to the girl who broke Ava and Gary’s heart. 

Things with Leonard were different. Leonard was part of her and he was Sin’s dad. He would always be a part of their family. She and Ava had talked about it before, but only briefly and Ava seemed to deal with Leonard as if he was just a piece of her past. Sara decided just to let her deal with it on her own, with Ava knowing that Sara loved her. 

……………………………………………………………………

A few nights later they were all over at Ava’s place getting ready for bed. Sara stopped the dryer and pulled out two warm blankets for Sin and Gary. She quickly wrapped it up to hold the heat and walked down the hall. Gary was in his room with Ava who was helping him pick up the last of his toys. 

Sara opened the blanket, coming up behind him to wrap it around his shoulders. Gary cuddled into the warmth and gave her a hug.

“Thanks Sara, goodnight,” Gary said, turning around to kiss her cheek and pressing an extra kiss to her belly. It was something he had started doing after they told the kids and something she was still getting used to. “And goodnight to you too baby.”

Ava put the box away on the shelf and tilted her head as she smiled over at then. Sara smiled at her as Gary untangled his arms from her waist and crawled into bed. 

“Goodnight Gary,” Sara said, leaning down to kiss his head. 

“Ready to be tucked in?” Ava asked, already pulling the covers up to his chin. 

“Yep.”

Sara smiled at them and let them say goodnight to each other, going off in search of Sin, who was probably still in the bathroom. Instead, Sara heard Sin’s voice coming from the baby’s room. The room was dark as Sara opened the door and peeked in. Sin was standing in the crib and had put something into the corner of the framed photo of them.

“There you go Daddy, now you can watch over all of us at Ava’s house,” Sin said, looking up at the photo, it was the one from the frame on top of their dresser of Leonard sitting at his desk at the ice rink. “Today I played with Gary and we made a huge fort. Then we watched a movie and we had s’mores in the backyard because Ava has a campfire pit!”

Sara let Sin have a moment alone as they talked with their dad. It was something they often did, mostly before they went to bed and especially when they were missing him. 

Sara didn’t realize she was holding the blanket tightly up against her chest until Ava put a hand on her arm. She turned to look at Ava and let go, taking a deep breath. She went to put her arms around Ava, but she stepped away and just looked down. Ava gave Sara’s arm another squeeze and nodded her head, before walking away towards their bedroom. 

Sara took a step to follow her, but she wasn’t sure what she would say. So she decided to put Sin to bed before she talked to Ava. Sara peeked in the door again and wordlessly walked in greeting Sin with a smile as they turned around. She walked over to Sin, putting the blanket around their shoulders and hugged them close. 

“Hey Mom, I was just telling Dad about the s’more you made and how gross it was,” Sin said wrinkling up their nose. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Sara said as she bopped their nose. “Besides, I ate much worse things when I was pregnant with you.”

“Ugh like Broccoli,” Sin said, sticking out their tough and doing a full body wiggle.

“Yeah, I ate all that Broccoli and you still don’t like it,” Sara said, giving them an extra squeeze and tickling their sides. “Are you ready to go to bed, or do you want to keep talking to your Dad?”

“I’m ready,” Sin said as they turned around to look at the photo and leaned in to kiss it. “Goodnight Daddy.”

Sara smiled and blew a kiss to the photo as well. “Goodnight Len.”

Sin turned back and hugged her. They tried to put their weight on her and make Sara carry them, but Sara put her hands on their waist holding them into place. 

“Sorry kiddo, I’m already carrying one baby. I can’t carry you too,” Sara said with a frown as she pulled back. 

“Sorry Mom, I forgot,” Sin looked down and let go of her.

“It’s okay,” Sara said as she put down the side of the crib.

Sin crawled out and Sara put her arm around them as she let them down the hall back into Gary’s room, where he was already snoring. They hadn’t set up the bedroom for Sin yet as the grey paint, a compromise from black, was still drying. Sara pulled Sin in as she climbed into bed and lay down next to them. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t hold you like this.”

Sin smiled and snuggled close to her, wrapping the blanket around both of them. Sara ran her fingers through their short black hair. When they were a baby Sin would only fall asleep in either Sara or Len’s arms. They wanted to spend the entire day being held and Sara carried them around in a wrap for the majority of their first year. She was so honored to still be her kid’s safe space and she would never pass up the chance to hold them. 

Sara stayed with them and held them until they fell asleep. Then she slipped out from their arms and put a pillow into the space she previously occupied. She ran her fingers through their hair one last time and pressed a kiss to their forehead before she left the room.

Sara walked down the hallway and popped into the nursery seeing that the light was on. She paused to see Ava standing in front of the crib looking up at Len’s photo. She snuck up behind Ava and wrapped her arms around their waist. Ava didn’t jump this time, but she did startle and looked back at her before leaning in and holding Sara’s arms around her waist.

“Sin wanted their Dad to watch over the new baby too.”

Ava reached up and took the photo out, before turning around and handing it to Sara. “You should give it back to Sin. I know how important the picture is to them, besides this is our baby, we’ll watch over them.”

Sara just shook her head, she untangled herself from Ava and put the photo back. “Yeah, but Leonard is Sin’s father and he’s a part of their family, which makes him a part of our families.”

“Sara, he may be Sin’s father, but he’s not a part of our baby’s family. You, me, Gary and Sin are,” Ava said, grabbing the photo again and handing it back to Sara.

Sara looked at the photo and then looked over at Ava as her eyebrows knitted together. “Ava...”

“I get it Sara. I don’t mind Sin having Leonards’s photo in their room and stuff, but this baby is yours and mine alone. We’re going to be a family just the four of us.”

Sara gave Ava a hard look and put Leonard’s photo back in the corner of the picture, before crossing her arms and standing in front of the crib. 

“Len is a part of our family and when you committed to having a family with me and Sin that includes Leonard in whatever capacity Sin wants. This isn’t just about you and me is about Sin and I won’t force them to keep their father to themselves. If they want the photo in the nursery with the baby, then that’s where it’s going to be.”

“Sara, that’s not what I asked,” Ava said, trying to walk up to her and reached out to her, but Sara turned away.

“That is what you asked. Look Ava, we both have a past. We have past relationships that still affect us. We both have baggage.” Sara said, throwing up her hands, she hadn’t realized that she had raised her voice and took a deep breath. “You have Gary’s mother and I know that you’re not as open about her with Gary. I don’t even know her name. You don’t have any pictures of her up and I respect that, but Leonard is a part of my family and a part of Sin. I won’t erase that.”

Ava looked down and crossed her arms as well. “Things with Gary’s mom and I are completely different. She chose to leave and have nothing to do with me or Gary.”

Sara took a step towards her. “I know, but that doesn’t mean Gary doesn’t want to know about her. Sin wants to know about their father. I won’t keep Leonard from them and neither should you.”

Ava looked up and unfolded her arms, taking a step towards her. Sara reached out to hold Ava’s hands and gave them a squeeze.

“You and me and Sin and Gary and this baby,” Sara said holding Ava’s hand and putting it on her belly. “Are a family and nothing is going to change that. But our past led us to this moment and they are still a part of us. They deserve whatever place we choose to give them. Please let me and Sin have this place.” 

Ava moved her hands to hold the curve of Sara’s belly and looked up as she felt a drop of water. Sara had silent tears falling down her cheeks as she looked down at their hands. Ava reached up to hold Sara’s face and Sara leaned into her, wrapping her arms around Ava’s waist. 

“You’re right,” Ava whispered in Sara’s ear as she brushed away her tears. “I’m sorry Sara, I shouldn’t have tried to take Leonard away from you and Sin.”

Sara just nodded as her tears fell. Ava rubbed her back and let Sara cry as she led her out of the room. She led Sara down the hallway and into their bedroom, sitting down in a chair, and pulling Sara into her lap. The tears slowed and Sara’s breathing became even again, and she pulled Ava’s hand back to her belly.

Ava took a deep breath trying to settle her own nerves as she reached over to her nightstand. She opened the drawer and pulled out a photo, handing it to Sara. 

“Her name was Anna. She was a realtor and we met when I was house hunting back in Fresno. She was wild and spontaneous. She was never one for marriage and a family but she did it for me. I thought she would be happy but, I guess domestic life was too boring for her.”

“She said that?” Sara said, looking down at the photo of Ava with her arms around Anna as they both laughed in the photo. 

“When she left, I threw out everything that reminded me of her. I just felt so angry. I got rid of everything except for a few photos of her and Gary and this.” As Ava spoke she looked at Sara rather than at the photo.

“Does Gary know about this?” Sara asked, turning to look up at her. 

“Sort of,” Ava said, with a shrug. “He knows what happened, but he’s never really asked many questions about her.”

“I won’t tell you what to do with this,” Sara said, handing her the photo. “But if you want to give her photo to Gary I’d understand.”

“She doesn’t deserve a place in his life. She made that very clear on the day she left,” Ava said putting the photo away and shutting the drawer. “But I think Gary deserves to know more about her.”

Sara just hummed and nodded against her shoulder. They sat in the moment together letting themselves adjust and take in the emotions of the night. Ava noticed that Sara started to drift off and picked her up again to lay her down on their bed. She quickly changed and brought over a pair of pajamas for Sara, and Ava helped her change. By the time she crawled back into bed, Sara was asleep and Ava pulled her against her chest before she turned off the light. 

Ava thought about what Sara said as she lay awake. Sara was right, despite how much Anna had hurt her, she was Gary’s mother. He at least deserved to know more about her and when the time came, if he wanted to reach out to her, she would let him. 

She turned and looked out at the stars that glowed against the black night. A gentle early summer breeze came in through the open window and she caught a glimpse of the Moon. Ava was never one to believe in heaven or hell, but as she looked up she thought of Leonard. 

Leonard was a piece of Sara and of Sin, without him, they would have never met. She would have never had the family that she had today. She didn’t have to compete with him and as she looked up, she thanked him for the family she had now. Ava held Sara tighter and put a hand on her belly as she thought about the two perfect kids sleeping down the hall, she knew she was never letting go. 

[ladynestaarcheron]

Like Pristine Glass - Chapter Twelve

ao3 - ff.net - masterpost

(tagging these cuties: @humanexile @skychild29 @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @candid-confetti ​ @rhysandsrightknee @missing-merlin @azriels-forgotten-shadow @books-and-cocos @sezkins79 @city-of-fae @someonemagical @dusty-lightbulb @messyhairday-me)

this has been delayed far too long, so i’ll leave a note at the end.

---

 November 5 - 4 years after

 Nesta cannot fight the broad grin on her face when she wakes to find her sons back in full health. She’s happy they’re better, and thrilled to have her daughter back in the house. She rushes through her day at the shop and still can’t help herself; she leaves to the nursery at three fifteen. She tries to make the walk as long as possible, stopping to chat with Aysel along the way, but arrives at twenty to four. She won’t take them out early, as that would probably only upset them. But it feels like too long since she’s had all of them together, to herself, that she only barely manages to stop herself outside the building.

       “Oh, hello, Nesta,” she hears behind her.

 She turns. “Hello, Classia.”

 “All alone today?” she asks cheerfully. “Me too, Ulvi’s at the boutique. I’m rather miserable with numbers, you know.”

 “So I’ve heard.”

 “How are the boys?” she says, tone more sympathetic.

 “They’re here today!” Nesta can’t keep the excitement out of their voice. “And Avery’s coming home!”

 Classia blinks, unused to seeing such enthusiasm from Nesta. “Oh, where was she?”

 “Cassian had her. At Miri’s house. I didn’t want her to get sick,” she says, hurriedly adding the last part. That’s the last rumor she needs spreading around; she is dividing up her children between herself and her...their father.

 “It’s wonderful that he’s here, then,” she coos. “I know you’ve had such help from the whole of Sugar Books and Zeyn and Adil and Miri especially, but it’s not the same as a partner, is it? To share the emotional burden?”

 And that is enough to wipe the smile of Nesta’s face, but not enough to completely dim the light inside her at the thought of holding all three of her children in her arms again.

 He’s been here over a week. Probably the longest he’s been away from his duties as General Commander… ever. She knows it’ll end soon, which is why she is forcing herself not to let him share the emotional burden. Sure, he can love them and he’s been a great help with the boys these past few days, but      she is the primary parent and caregiver.

 The timer on the locked gate to the nursery finally ticks four and swings open; she is the first through it and to the door. Nicky sees her first and runs to hug her. She bends down and catches him, then Avery and Ollie follow, all of them laughing through their chatter and blissfully, blissfully, normal-temperature.

 “I missed you three,” she says to them, a bit muffled as she drops a kiss on the top of Avery’s head.

 “Where’s Appa?” Nicky says.

 “I missed you, Ava.”

 “I missed you too, Ollie!”

 “Where’s Appa?” Nicky asks again, more insistent, squirming out of Nesta’s grasp.

 She lets them go. “At home. Come on, let’s go.”

 They held hands as they walked, Avery and Nicky on either side of her, and Ollie holding Avery’s hand. She’s more tuned into their conversation than normal, having missed the sound of their little voices together.

 She’s so engrossed in them, watching them, she doesn’t notice Cassian before them until Nicky calls his name and breaks free from her, running and leaping into his arms.

 “Hi,” she says to him when they get closer.

 “Hi,” he says, putting Nicky down and taking hold of Ollie. “I didn’t realize you had already picked them up.”

 “I missed them,” she says. Oddly, she feels a little guilty. “I was bringing them straight home.” It’s not stealing his time from them, but it feels that way.

 But he grins easily. “Straight home?”

 “I want to go to the park!”

 “I also!”

 “Home first,” Nesta says firmly, ducking her face into her coat and fiddling with the buttons. “We’ll go later.”

 “Mummy’s rules,” Cassian says to them, looking down.

 “I’m hungry.”

 “We’re almost home,” she says, picking up her face now the burning has faded. “Come along.”

 Cassian moves closer to her. “Could we have dinner together? Tonight?” His voice is low enough that she knows only she can hear it.

 Her throat tightens. She doesn’t open her mouth for a few moments, afraid of what she might say.

 “Sure.”

---

 November 14 - 1 year after

 Somehow word had gotten around, in this tiny, gossiping town, and by the time Nesta came back to her room at the inn, everyone knew she was pregnant.

       Brilliant. Perfect.

       They were being whatever their definition of tactful was, she knew. Which wasn’t very impressive. But she could hardly blame them, could she? She imagined a pregnant, Other female from Prythian was hardly something that shook the rumor mills of Sugar Valley every day.

       No one was malignant. No one said much of anything, really—not to her, at least. But everyone at the bookstore smiled at her more often. Zeyn kept offering her water. Miri had urged her to sit while she sorted the books—here, she’d be happy to help!

       The healer, Amorette, was competent enough. She had explained her options to her, which weren’t anything novel. She could either terminate the pregnancy or give the child away to someone else.

       She couldn’t have the thing herself. That much was clear.

       And so Nesta wasn’t particularly worried. This was unfortunate, sure. And emotionally disturbing and physically a nuisance. But nothing to write home about.

       She should write… to her sisters. In general. Not about this, of course. This was nothing. This was… not her child. And so not their business, as it was barely hers. Either all this would be over in a week, or she’d be carrying someone else’s child, and that didn’t concern her sisters.

       It certainly didn’t concern Cassian. This was… no. No reason to say anything.

       She didn’t want other people’s opinions getting in the way of her own, after all. She needed a quiet room to keep a clear mind and make her choice.

       Her room in the inn was nearly silent. The only noise was the scraping sound her nail made as she ran it over the coin.

       Because that, it appeared, was what it would come down to. A coin toss.

  Would she spend the next nine months creating life? Building a whole new person, half herself, half… Illyrian? With dark hazel eyes and wings and curls like hers and maybe some warm brown skin, the shade between theirs...?

       Or would she… move on?

 Yes, that was a nice way to put it.

 She shut her eyes tight, ridding the image of a child from her mind by counting upwards by seven. It was too much. Little hands, little toes, little… kicks… inside her.

 And that nearly made her decision. Pregnancy was gruesome. She didn’t want that. A whole other person inside of her she had to take care of? Clearly, Nesta wasn’t even good at being around people next to her. For just a few hours a day. She couldn’t do this.

 And then… for what? For giving it away?

     Of course, she told herself immediately. You can’t be a mother.  

 That much was true. Certainly not alone. It took a village, didn’t it? And while Nesta did stay in this small town, well… she didn’t really have it, did she? And she didn’t have… anyone. To be with.

     Coward, a voice inside her head jeered. She ignored it. She didn’t owe this to Cassian. She was—hurt. And angry. He didn’t need to be privy to any of this.

 She wasn’t ready. She couldn’t be a mother alone. She probably couldn’t be a mother ever. She was broken inside. She thought she wasn’t, for a while… that he had helped her get fixed… but no matter. She would go to Dadashov, schedule an appointment, and… all would be done.

 A few weeks, at most. She would go through the procedure, spend a few days at home, and then go back to the bookshop. Continue her new, quiet life as an archivist.

---

 December 6 - Year of

 Cassian knew he had his work cut out for him this time.

 He had to be smart. He couldn’t sneak up on her like he had at Emerie’s shop—that was miserable. But he also couldn’t give her too much time to… well… run away. But after nearly a week in one of the rebelling camps, with his days occupied with strategy alongside Rhys and his nights taken up only by her image in his eye, he felt he knew what to do.

 He waited until an hour they both knew she would be home and awake. Too late to be working, too early to be asleep. He made no effort to hide his steps to the house, and made enough noise as he could while still  in the realm of conceivability while opening the door. He did so slower than usual, giving her ample time to hide in her room.

 He didn’t let the unmoved chocolate bar on the kitchen counter deter him as he made his way to her door.

 He knocked twice, and said—cheerfully, normally, “Hey, Nesta. I’m back!”

 And then he waited.

 He could practically feel her incredulous look through the door—she thought he was stupid, she thought he must be joking—but all that didn’t matter, because she opened the door.

 “Hello,” she said carefully, her face devoid of any real emotion. That same detached politeness they had shared last week; as if they were neighbors and he had knocked on her door to ask for a cup of sugar.

 “How was your week?” He could feel her bemusement in his bones, along with slight suspicion. But ever the cards-player, Nesta’s face betrayed nothing.

 “All right. And yours?”

 “Long,” he said, grinning. “I’m exhausted. Join me for dinner tomorrow?”

     This threw her off-guard, and she narrowed her eyes a touch. “Sure,” she said.

     Sure. A resounding success, he thought. Now she would be there. All he had to was not fuck it up.

---

 November 5 - 4 years after

 Perhaps they had not had enough running around time today at nursery, Nesta thinks as she watches the triplets run themselves ragged at the park. Or they’re just excited to be playing together again.

       “Good to see them all together, isn’t it?” Cassian marvels, throwing himself on the bench next to her, echoing her thoughts.

       She nods and doesn’t say anything else. He sits with her for another few minutes, until he joins the triplets again and she watches them until the sun has nearly set, and calls them to walk back home.

       “We were having so much fun at the park, Mummy, do you remember?”

       “Yes, Nicky,” she says, unbuttoning his coat as Cassian herds Avery and Ollie inside. “It was seven minutes ago.”

       “I had so much fun!”

       “I’m glad. Take off your boots. Ollie, you too.”

       “I’m not tired.”

       “Yes, you are. Upstairs, let’s go.”

       “I can give them their bath,” Cassian says.  “Why don’t you get started on dinner?”

       Nesta glances upstairs to wear the children are climbing together. “Sure,” she says, and turns to the kitchen.

       Cassian always eats at least twice what she does, so she prepares four times what she would for herself. She works quickly and sets the pot to keep warm on the stove when she’s done, and goes upstairs to the children’s room.

       She hears them laughing before she enters the room. Pushing the door untill it’s slightly ajar, she leans against the wall and watches them. He’s wrestling all three of them, with Nicky latched onto his neck from behind, and Avery and Ollie on either arm. They’re so… like him, she thinks. Avery and Ollie’s eyes, Nicky’s hair. And their wings. How had she ever managed to look at them and think they were all hers?

       It scares her and she’s not even sure she likes it. But there’s no more denying it: he’s a part of them. Just as much as she is.

       He catches her standing there and grins at her. “All right,” he says. “Time for bed.”

       They tuck them all in, and Nesta starts on the story Ollie chooses, but they’re all asleep before she finishes, truly beat from their time at the park. She and Cassian creep out together, careful not to stir them.

       Cassian pours her a glass of wine in the kitchen as she ladles out dinner. She takes a large swallow before she says, “Now what’s this about?”

       He laughs. “Don’t fear the worst. It’s not the end of the world.” But his smile fades. “I… have to go back tomorrow.”

       Something inside Nesta sinks. “You’ve been here long,” she says.

       “Not long enough,” he replies. “And I’m going to come back as soon as I can. You know that. You know that, don’t you?”

       “I do,” she says truthfully.

       He relaxes for a moment. Then he tenses and says, “I wanted to ask you something.”

       Nesta raises an eyebrow as she takes a bite of pasta.

       “I want you to think about coming over for Solstice. To Velaris.”

       Nesta cocks her head. Lets out a dark laugh. “You…cannot be serious.”

       “Just think about it,” he says, raising his hands. “And really think about it. I know you… I know how you feel about Rhys and Mor. But they’d love them, if you’d let them. And they really want to. And your sisters,” he adds, and she does appreciate that he pretends not to see her flinch. “They miss them. And you. Just… think about it. Sleep on it.” He swallows his own forkful of pasta, then he says, “How are things at the store?”

       Which is kind of him, she supposes. Or… perhaps kind is not the right word. But she likes that he approaches the topic and then switches to one she is more comfortable with without making her respond. “Not the best,” she admits. “Adil and Miri came back. No brilliant authors just yet.”

       “Have you signed anyone?”

       “Three,” she says. “Two from Leyla and one from Maz.” She rolls her eyes. “As if Maz’s author is going to be any good.”

       “Zeyn’s not back yet?” he asks casually.

       “No,” she says, keeping her voice even.

       She’s not gone so long without talking to him since she moved here. It’s jarring. She feels she’s done something wrong, even though she knows she hasn’t.

       “Well, maybe he’s got ten authors in tow.”

       Nesta scoffs. “You sound like Adil. He’s being so weird about it all.” Although, privately, Nesta wonders if she’d be the same if not for Cassian’s money.

       “I really don’t want to see anything happen to this shop,” she says suddenly. “Adil was… he helped with all of this, you know.”

       “I know,” he says, nodding solemnly. “I owe him so much.”

       He had truly taken her in his care; giving her that job, helping her buy the house. She hates seeing him so stressed over this.

       Perhaps, she thinks wryly, he would like her to go to Velaris. See if she can find some authors there.

       She's still too upset with her sisters to know if she’d go there right now for them. But she’d definitely go for Adil.

---

 November 15 - 1 year after

 The quiet of the bookstore was not the bliss she once might have wanted; it is—she cringed as she thought the word—pregnant. She knew they were all awkwardly tiptoeing around her, unsure of what to say.

       “Nesta,” Zeyn said, approaching her for the umpteenth time that day.

       “I’ve said I don’t want tea, Zeyn,” she said through gritted teeth. Really. Courtesy was one thing, but Nesta never liked hovering. No one liked hovering.

       He laughed. “No, I know. I guess I’m annoying you.”

       “No, of course not,” she said flatly, making him laugh again.

       “I’m sorry. It’s just… you probably know how fast the rumor mill turns here. And. Well. We’re… the whole shop, we’re here for you.”

       Nesta restrained a roll of her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. As if no one had ever been pregnant before. “But I think I’ll be fine.”

       “Of course. Just, you know. You think you’re alone here, but you’re not. We’re a community.”

       Nesta picked her head up from the book she was spining. She narrowed her eyes a bit, taking in his earnest expression. The slight nervousness alongside the warmth in his brown eyes. “Thank you,” she said again, more easily this time.

       He grinned. “Can I… I mean, you’re probably. Well. Would you like me to show you around Sugar Valley? Have you been to Jamal’s?”

       “No,” she said, vaguely aware that he was talking about a diner, and then      very     aware that he was asking to take her out to dinner. “But I won’t be able to go out any time soon,” she said hurriedly. “I’m very busy.” She snapped her book shut and turned without waiting to hear anything else, walking briskly to the back room. She gave no sign she heard his “oh, all right, another time, then!” as she left.

       Neighborly pleasantries were one thing. Agreeing to go to dinner with a male was quite another. She wasn’t nearly there yet.

---

 December 7 - Year of

 Emerie nodded slightly to Nesta as she walked in the door, in their typical morning greeting.

       Nesta didn’t nod back today. Instead she said, “I’ve agreed to have dinner with him.”

       Emerie’s lips parted slightly. “Oh,” she said, after a beat of silence.

       Nesta glared as she forcefully took off her cloak. “That’s all you have to say?”

       She blinked. “What do you want me to say?”

       “I don’t know,” Nesta gritted. “Something useful, perhaps?”

       Emerie’s lips quirked upwards a bit, while squinting her eyes, which Nesta very much didn’t like. Her sister’s looked at her like that, whenever they weren’t taking her seriously. “Well, why did you agree to dinner?”

       “I don’t know. He asked. It was… strange. It was cordial.”

       “You like cordial.”

       “It was fake cordial.”

       “You’re fake cordial.”

       “That’s not how I want to live my personal life.”

       “He’s a part of your personal life?”

       “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, pulling some folded climbing pants off a shelf to re-fold. She was very skilled in hiding her emotions and managed to keep her face turning the burning crimson her heart was trying to color, with the sudden rush of blood to her cheeks.

       “Are you scared of him?”

       When Nesta picked her head up a minute later, Emerie was still looking at her expectantly. “No,” she said finally, unsure of if it even counted as a lie or not.

       Emerie was quiet for a few minutes, too. Then she said, “Just… remember what I told you. About my… cousin.” When Nesta didn’t acknowledge her, she said, “I hated him for not fighting for me. But… not enough to wish him dead. And now he is.”

       Nesta bit back her Yes, I remember your riveting tragedy, because she liked Emerie and she did feel for her. Emerie was perhaps the only person alive whom she could stand right now. Instead she said, “If we’re smart, we’ll start selling light wear next month. Others will start in February. We should be ahead.”

       And the day passed as slowly as she could stretch it, painstakingly laying out the details for every day of sales for the next six weeks, but evening fell before long, and since she made the mistake of telling Emerie about her dinner plans, she kicked her out before the sun had truly set.

       She took her time walking back, going as slowly as she could without truly terrifying the young Illyrian female walking hand in hand with a child. Nesta wasn't sure if it was her own. The pair walked in front of her, and the girl kept turning her head, discreetly trying to tell if Nesta was still there. Following her. Hunting her, perhaps. The thought made her scoff.

       Other girls had always been intimidated by her, she thought. Even when she wasn’t trying to make them feel so. Elain once told her she stood too straight and narrowed her eyes too much.

       But she couldn’t help it, even when she was very young. It was just her natural posture, her face. Up until now, she had been perfectly pleased with everyone steering clear of her, but now it was ridiculous. She’d never killed anyone.

       The walk was not long enough and Nesta found herself standing in front of Cassian’s house. She gave herself a few moments of lingering outside before forcing herself to go in.

       “Good evening,” she said as she walked in the kitchen, stiffly, in that same odd tone they had used yesterday.

       He looked up from the pot he was stirring and grinned at her—wholly unlike anything from their exchange yesterday. “Hi, Nesta.”

       She bit the inside of her cheek.

       “Sit down,” he said cheerfully. “Please. I’m just about done.”

       “All right,” she mumbled, sitting at the table. He set it. With… mats. She didn’t even know he had mats.

       “Here we are,” he said, bringing over two dishes. She narrowed her eyes when she saw them. Duck and a sweet potato casserole. He was clearly trying to get in her good graces.

       But what was this new tactic he’s using?

       He took her plate and scooped too much food onto it; she’d never be able to eat that much. But she took it from him anyway. He poured her a glass of water.

       This was too odd.

       “How was your week?” he asked her.

       “Fine,” she said after a beat. “Yours?” She stabbed some of the duck with her fork and twirled it.

       “Long, as I said.” His expression turned more serious. “And I didn’t like how we left things.”

       Nesta froze. This was not fake cordial. This was entirely too confrontational.

       “I know you won’t forgive me any time soon, but can you let me try and make it up to you?”

       She wanted the earth to swallow her up or some bird to crash into the house and carry her away—some Illyrian, maybe. The hope and sadness on his face was entirely too real, disorientingly different than what she was expecting and had prepared for.

       Her eyes darted around the room—then at her own hand when he covered it with his.

       “I’m really going to try, Nesta,” he said, voice low.

       “Try what?” she said, finally finding her voice. It didn’t sound as scared as she felt, which she considered a win.

       “To do right by you,” he said.

       Nesta’s eyes dropped from his face back to their hands. He still hadn’t let her go.

       She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she said in a small voice, “How?”

       Here he grinned again. “We can start with dinner.” He took his hand back and began to eat, watching her intently.

       After a few seconds, Nesta did too, trying the duck. Lemony, which she wasn’t expecting, but… she liked it.

       He could tell. She looked at him and she knew he could tell.

---

hey guys!

first i want to say i hope you're all keeping safe. i know it can be hard to stay in your home--work, necessities, just cabin fever--but it's so important. for your safety and your weaker loved ones and even young and healthy people because actually, we are not immune.

i have been thinking about you guys. i really hope this fic has managed to give you a bit of escapism, or comfort, or anything to take your mind off the trauma of day-to-day life in a global crisis. i really am going to try to update much faster to do the smallest thing i can to maybe make someone just a bit happier in these rough times.

lastly, i want to say to those of you who mostly read fic: write some! even if it's horrible and you don't want to share it with anyone ever! with so little we can do safely (my country has restricted movement; no one is allowed 100 meters away from their house), creating is one of the few active, productive things left. so write. or draw. something that isn't passive enjoyment. keeps your soul healthy.

i love you guys. stay safe. stay healthy. stay home.

---

Chapter Thirteen

[strangerontheotherside84]

Wild Child (Billy Hargrove x Reader) part 5

Hey everybody thank you all so much for your nice feedback. I originally just wrote this story for a friend and didn’t think that anybody else would give a shit about it tbh. Which is also the reason why there is no regular uploading schedule and I am super shit at this whole tagging stuff…

Tagged-list: @speedmetalqueen @charmed-asylum

Warnings: language, mention of abuse, blood, mention of drug use

„Honey, I’m home.“ you shouted dramatically as you entered the small house, kicked of your boots and walked down the hallway into the kitchen.

You had actually been surprised to see lights burning inside the house as you arrived, your uncle didn’t mention that he was going to be home for dinner. Well now you at least had someone to share that frozen lasagna with. „Woah uncle Lou what’s that smell? Did you find out about the magical effects that spices have on pre-cooked food or-? Oh…“

You stopped at the sight of your uncle sitting at the kitchen table with your next door neighbour Ms Johnson, both of them looking very caught. And what you had mistaken for a very upgraded frozen lasagne seemed to actually be a real home-cooked meal. Well….you had definitely crushed their date.

„(Y/n)….I didn’t expect you to be home this early…I met Helen uhm Ms. Johnson at the garage and she suggested to cook dinner for us.“

„Yeah no worries.“ you laughed. You knew very well that Helen and your Uncle had a thing for each other. Nobody needed their car to get fixed that often. She would also regulary pretend to check up on you to see if your uncle was home. Once you even caught her, leaving the house through the backdoor early in the morning. They were acting like teenagers which to be honest was kinda cute.

„Wait a minute..“ you began, suddely realizing something, „Why did you think I wasn’t going to be home for dinner? I only had class until 2.“

„Well…school called.“

Oh fuck. Shit shit SHIT. Of course they did. How could you be so stupid?

„Well about that….“ you began laughing nervously, „I can only say it propably wasn’t as bad as it sounds.“

„What exactly?“ your Uncle was raising his voice at this point, but no matter how hard he tried…he was really bad at this whole strict-parenting-thing, „The part where you got sent to detention for almost getting into a physical fight with a boy OR the part where you got expelled for, and I quote their words: innapropriate actions with the exact same boy.“

„Well what can I say….I might have lost my temper a bit.“

„A bit?“ he was raising his eyebrows at you.

„Yeah ok maybe a little bit more than that. But I can assure you that I’m fine again. Also, innapropriate actions sounds like we were sacrificing children. It was just…oh nevermind. I’ll leave the two of you alone now“ you smiled at him and Helen, who was visibly uncomfortable with the whole situation.

„Where do you think you’re going?“

„To the lake. To think about my mistakes and nothing else of course…maybe god will end my suffering and let me drown.“

„(Y/n)!“, your uncle moved his eyes towards Helen, indicating that she wasn’t used to that level of sarcasm, „Also don’t you think, that after being expelled from school not leaving the house would be a more fitting idea?“

„Oh come on Uncle Lou…we both know that you don’t know how to punish me for something like that. And trust me I am already punished enough since I will forever have to remember making out with the biggest dickhe- uhm jerk in town…also…don’t you think it would be better if I was gone so the two of you can continue to do whatever needed to be done before I got home?“

„Fine fine fine. Get lost you little shit.“

„As you wish, sir.“ you grinned, „Bye Helen, feel free to use the front door this time.“

„(Y/N)!..I’m sorry Helen..she is….an idiot.“

„True. It runs in the family though.“ you yelled as you grabbed your stuff and made your way towards the front door.

-

You lit a cigarette, deeply inhaling the smoke only to release it into the crisp air within seconds later.

You had always enjoyed spending time at the lake.

Especially at night, there was something very soothing about this kind of solitude.

You were the only one present, as usual. Which might have been due to the fact that it was already december and pitch black outside.

But actually people didn’t really go here anymore no matter what time of the year it was. Not since they found that body which turned out not to be Will Byers, last summer. People thought the lake had been infested with some kind of supernatural bacteria, some even claimed that it was haunted.

„Well if you’re here lake-demons. Now would be a great time to drag me into the water and let me vanish from the surface of the earth.“ you mubled while flicking a stone into the dark water, watching the circles it created on the black surface.

The sound of a car stopping and a door being slammed shut in the distance suddenly pulled you from the thoughts circling in your head. Pretty weird that someone would be out here at 9pm on a monday night. Might be Chief Hopper? He would regulary pick you up at this place, when you were trying to get away from your mom and her shitty boyfriend.

But nothing followed that noise, which left you diving deep back into your thoughts once again.

You just couldn’t understand what had happened only a few hours ago.

Why WHY would you decide to kiss that walking trashbag of a human? And why the fuck did it have to feel so damn good? Worse enough that Billy already thought of himself as the hottest shit in town…why did it have to be true?…Well only kinda. It was just a few seconds of making out, which fair enough even the biggest looser would have been capable of.

Holy shit you didn’t even want to think about what you would have done if Mr. Jenkins hadn’t stopped you…but on the other hand you had the feeling that you would think about that a lot in the next few days.

Ok you really needed to stop that. NOW.

In order to not act like some horny piece of shit anymore you decided to walk around for a bit. Sitting on the freezing stones in front of the water was getting way too cold anyway.

You moved slowly on the slippery pepple stones, your eyes trying to focus in the foggy darkness. How good that you knew this place by heart and didn’t park your car too far away. You were already pretty close to the road as your eyes catched the sight of an unfamilair figure. Looked like somebody had parked their car right here in the middle of nowhere.

Please don’t let this become the next underage make-out hotspot. Isn’t Lovers Lake enough?

There clearly was somebody sitting on the hood of the car, looking rather wasted to be honest.

„Hey is everything alright?“ you asked as you approached the dark figure.

„Yeah..everything is just great.“ even though his voice sounded exhausted and faint you realized immediately who you were talking to.

„Hargrove? Are you following me or what?“ you groaned, „Is there really not enough space in Hawkins for the two of us not to meet every other day?“

„Look (y/l/n),“ Billy began, his husky voice sounding even weaker than before, „I appreciate your overall dedication to being an annoying bitch 24/7 but please, not now. Leave me the fuck alone.“

This made you very suspicious. „You sure you’re alright?“ you moved a few steps closer towards him „Holy shit dude what happened to your face?“.

It wasn’t a secret that Billy would regulary get into fights, but he would usually emerge from those as the winner. But today? The whole left side of his face was bruised, blood dripping from his eyebrow and the corner of his mouth.

He quickly faced away from you, wiping his palms across his face. „I said go away. Everything is fine.“ he growled, his voice now almost back to it’s usual low thick sound.

„I would believe you if your face didn’t look like it was hit by a fucking truck. And trust me I don’t like you enough to pretend that I care. But you look rough.“

„Well you seem to like me enough to not leave me alone.“ Billy taunted you with a grin on his face which quickly turned into a painful groan.

„Alright that’s enough let me see that.“ You took a seat next to him, carefully touching his jaw, turning his head towards you. He flinched as your fingers moved across his black and blue cheek. „Doesn’t seem to be broken..but still…who did that? Did you screw somebody’s girlfriend?“

„Doesn’t matter.“ Billy mumbled, trying to avoid eye contact.

„Well I’m not a big fan of the cops but don’t you think your parents will call them when they see you like that?“

„Nope.“

„..or maybe at least want to know what happened?“ you continued.

„Nope.“

“..or wanna know who did that?”

“Nope.” Billy seemed to be getting more and more fed up with you at this point.

„Well can you at least tell me then?“

„YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENED?“ Billy suddenly facing towards you, screaming at the top of his lungs, made you jump a little, „I GOT EXPELLED FROM SCHOOL BECAUSE OF SOME STUPID BITCH AND THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR NOT BEHAVING AT MY HOUSE! AND NO THEY WON’T CARE WHO DID THAT BECAUSE THEY ALREADY KNOW!“

Billy was looking furious, breathing heavily, his whole body shaking with anger. His breath created little clouds in the cold december air and you thought that you could see tears shimmering in his piercing blue eyes before he turned away from you again, smashing the hood of his car, screaming with anger as he jumped onto his feet.

„Fuck…I’m sorry…I didn’t know.“ „Oh really? Thought you knew absolutely everything about me and how much of an asshole I am.“ Billy growled, still facing his back towards you as he lit a cigarette.

Yeah you deserved that one.

„Well I seem to be just as big of an asshole at this point.“ you mumbled as you reached into your pocket, „Here…guess you need that more than me.“ without waiting for a response you placed the joint from your pocket inside Billy’s left hand. He looked up to you slightly confused. „For the pain…if you need anything else..my Uncle’s secret girlfriend is a nurse. I’m sure I could get you some harder drugs.“

“Thanks…but please (y/l/n) leave me alone now.” the curly haired boy’s voice was back to that faint husky state from before, his body still visibly shaking.

“Yeah whatever I was just trying to be nice.” you mumbled not really knowing what to do. You really didn’t like him enough to be any more supportive than gifting him your last bit of weed.

“I don’t need you to be nice to me.”

“Don’t be such a bitch, Hargrove.”

„Leave me alone. And don’t even think about being nice to me just because you feel sorry for me.“ Billy snapped, pushing you aside as he walked back to his car and drove off into the night.

What a dramatic bitch.

[dothwrites]

spn advent calendar--eggnog

I’m a little behind on these, I beg your forgiveness! Now, see my Christmas innuendo puns and perish!

Pairings: Established Dean/Castiel, Gabriel& Dean& Castiel

{Read on Ao3}

---

Dean and Castiel don't live together. It's still early in their relationship, which is what Castiel says, and Dean signed a two-year lease on his townhouse a year ago, which is what Dean says. Those reasons are both crap is what Gabriel says, which begins a long series of whining complaints from Gabriel. "What do you mean he doesn't live with you?" The look on his face looks more akin to if Castiel had just drop-kicked a puppy. "The hell have you two been doing?"

Castiel rolls his eyes. "Living our lives? Working at our jobs? Having fantastic, mind-blowing--"

"La, la, la, can't hear you," Gabriel trills, hands over his ears.

Castiel's eyes might fall out of his skull with how frequently and how violently he's rolling them. "Please don't pretend to be prudish now. Not thirty minutes ago, you were asking if Dean had 'trimmed my tree'." Castiel makes sure to punctuate the words with finger-quotes. "Which, why you would use that as a euphemism, I don't even know."

That conversation leads into Gabriel throwing out as many Christmas related double entendres as he can--Is Dean making your herald angels sing? Is he making you O Come O Come Emmanuel? Are you rockin' around his Christmas tree? That leads to Castiel storming into his room, muffling a scream of frustration in his pillow, and texting Dean.

You have to come over tomorrow night. Otherwise we'll be talking to each other through a glass wall and a phone connection for the next 10-25 years.

shit babe can we just leave for the bahamas instead

I can put a mortgage on my house if you're serious.

no it's too sunny there and i peel like a lobster. make sure you have stuff for fettuccini alfredo tomorrow

---

So Dean comes over the next night. Castiel meets him outside, slipping out the door before Gabriel scents his departure. He slams into Dean with the force of a five car collision, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist and burying his face into Dean's shoulder. To his credit, Dean absorbs the hit, and returns the embrace, albeit with a little less force.

"That bad huh?" Dean's voice is a low, comforting rumble against Castiel's chest, and if he could, Castiel would wrap himself up in that voice every night.

"He won't stop making Christmas puns," Castiel murmurs. He nuzzles into Dean's shirt and breathes in the scent of him. "When he's not doing that, he's singing Mariah Carey Christmas songs. He sings Michael Buble."

"Jesus babe." Dean's fingers slide up the back of Castiel's neck to card through his hair. "Pack a bag. You can stay with me for the rest of December. Gabriel can't find you there; he doesn't know where I live."

"You sure about that Dean-o?"

Castiel's grown to hate that voice. He pulls away from Dean, just enough to glare at Gabriel through one, slitted eye.

Gabriel dangles off the front porch, Santa hat askew on his head and an overflowing cup of eggnog slopping over his fingers. The heavy scents of rum and cinnamon accompany him as he pours himself down the steps to stand next to them.

Castiel tries not to mourn as Dean pulls away, leaving nothing but a single arm around his waist. Faced with the typhoon of Gabriel, Dean valiantly tries to rally. "Hey Gabriel." He bares his teeth in a proximity of a grin. "You haven't been keeping close enough tabs on us to know where I live."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Gabriel says. An edge slides through his smile. "I've got a lot of money and a lot of free time."

The moment has all the potential to turn nasty, which is why it's a relief when Gabriel belches. He holds out his cup to Dean, a sloppy grin on his face. "Eggnog?" he offers.

Dean raises a brow. "Not from that cup," he says, his eyes flicking back and forth from the cup to Gabriel's face.

"Right," Gabriel drawls, turning a two syllable word into one that has seventeen. "I forgot, Cassie's the only one that you're swapping spit with these days."

A low growl starts in Castiel's chest and settles in his throat. "Gabriel, Dean's here to make dinner for us. Can you please not antagonize or disgust him while he is doing that?"

"Come on in," Gabriel says, a king welcoming a vassal to his castle. Except it's Castiel's house. He should be the king. "Can I get you some eggnog?"

Castiel watches as his cousin leads his boyfriend into his house. Gabriel even pauses at the door to allow Dean into the house first, flashing up a thumbs-up behind Dean's back. Castiel rolls his eyes and follows them into the house.

"So Dean, now that you're ringing Cassie's bells, I feel like you're part of the family," Gabriel says, with an uncompromising arm around Dean's shoulders. "Come, share in the Milton family tradition of eggnog." Castiel is aware of no such tradition. "Do you like your eggs nogged Dean? Can I nog your eggs? Does Cassie give you a good nogging for your eggs?"

---

Tags under the cut--

@screamatthescreen @queenvee08 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @homeriics @dizzypinwheel