#whenever i stayed at my grandma’s house as a kid she used to tuck me in so aggressively that i could not fucking move. that flat sheet

[fingertipsmp3]

I will really watch a video of someone’s ✨sleep routine✨ which is essentially them straightjacketing themself and be like “oh I should try that” as if I don’t lie awake seething if I don’t have full range of movement

[suncakie]

—they threw kids in the dustbin! Inarizaki x gn!reader

Day twenty-five

31 Days of Haikyuu [🏐]

Warnings. not proofread, Kita has canonically one older sister one and younger brother both of them are ageless and nameless so these are made up, fluff, Atsumu Whining.

Notes. I have no idea how to end this, but, the faster i finish these fics the faster i can write my abandoned wips>:D(ps. this is gn!reader, if i used he/him, she/her pronouns don't hesitate to tell me, ill fix it right away)

Atsumu had a wonderful idea to break in Kita's humble abode dressed up as Santa as a surprise, It does not go as planned.

Atsumu had his wonderful idea to burst into Kita's home while wearing santa outfits, with him of course being santa while the others are the reindeers or elves, saying he has to be the one who will give gifts to nice kids because he's nice.

Osamu would've made an arguement right then and there if it weren't for Suna stopping him in doing so, You on the other hand only smiled mischievously while all of you agreed to his decision.

The three of you, Aran, Gin and you were in charge of the costumes while the three of them were in charge of the gifts, of course with Aran, you and Gin's list of gifts already at their hands.

Being the most respectful and thoughtful person in the universe, Both Gin and Aran didn't attend the morning practice once to join you in asking permission to Kita's grandma about your plans to only be surprised that they would be staying at his parents house during the holidays.

Deciding to actually go to Kita's humble abode with the help of his Grandma which you theee now call Yumie-san out per request and get scolded whenever you accidentally call her Obaasan.

Knocking on the door, The said parents greeted the lady as they gave eye contact to the three of you, Yumie-san Explaining why the three of you are here.

Once inside(with Yumie-san's bags) you three explained how you wanted to surprise Kita by giving out a show by acting as santa during midnight, as though listing what the three of you needed and the permission to use the chimney and splatter snow everywhere on the ground. Of course with the thought of cleaning the mess afterwards.

They agreed of course, its very rare to have your child's friends act as Santa, heck, they could also help out with his younger brothers View on Santa.

Realizing how there are supposed to be more gifts than usual, you excused yourself from the group to dial up Osamu about this knowledge and the other information the three of you have gotten. On the other hand, The father explained how the chimney haven't been cleaned for a while now as its not that used with the heater running, the older male suggested to clean it before the plan but both Gin and Aran refused to and said not cleaning the chimney is a better idea and they will clean the mess afterwards.

I mean, Atsumu is the only one entering the chimney.

The day has finally came, the inarizaki group chat has been loud since 11pm, the others who aren't able to join the surprise chatting away in the group chat while the reindeers in the surprise also joined in the fun so that its not that suspicious.

Surprisingly, their parents allowed them to not be at home during midnight, saying its only a once in a life time opportunity as long as they go home after and not get hyperthermia.

Kita's phone has been blowing up nonestop, he doesn't even check as he tucked in his younger brother to sleep, saying that Santa come until he sleeps. Walking out of his younger brothers room, Kita looked by the presents under the tree trying to see what gift will be presented as "santa"

"Where's the santa gift?" Kita glanced at his father while crouching down the tree, looking at the different labels finding the specific gift.

His father shrugged as a response, making himself busy in his phone "how about ask your sister? Maybe she still has it hidden" Kita nodded and headed to the kitchen, where his Grandma, mother and older sister stayed cooking food for later.

"Onee-san? Where's Satoshi's Santa gift?" He peaked his head at the corner as his older sister hummed in confusion "I thought oton is the one who will provide the gift?" Kita frowned at his sisters response as he explained how he already asked him and directed him to her.

"Oton! Shin-chan is asking where is Sato-chan's Santa gift!" A soft mumble of 'its not with me!' Was heard as his sister frowned, "maybe we could improvise with something else?"

Suddenly a noise of complaint rang through the walls of the humble abode, alerting both the siblings as the parents and grandma ignored it and continued with their work, like this is a normal thing to happen.

"WHY IS IT SO DIRTY?!" A familiar voice whined as a thump was heard at the living room, both the kita siblings rushing towards their in both curiosity and fear.

Right below the chimney, a fat inflated guy sat their with a pout, wearing what seems to be a red and white cotton wear, while Shinsuke and Shinya stood there, brows furrowed as their father casually took a glance at the boy.

Sipping on a coffee cup, he scrolled through his phone, as he glanced at the kicked puppy at his foot "You look cleaner than last year, did you request your elves to clean our chimney?"

"HUH?! YOU DIDN'T CLEAN THE CHIMNEY?!" The santa starred at the older man in rage until a group of five bursted through the door, three of which wore a reindeer costume and the other an elf.

"I'm sorry for him today, he's been climbing in and out chimneys the whole hour" a familiar silver hair man covered the mans mouth, an apologetic look on his face while the other elve nodded at him.

"We're just gonna put these gifts here, is that okay?" A man in a reindeer costume with well rested eyes pointed under the tree, a bag of what seems to be gifts in his back as the other reindeers just placed the gifts under the tree, which seemed too many for a child.

"Yes of course" the older man nodded as Kita's grandma went to the five, a plate of cookies and milk on a tray. "Here you go, Sato-chan baked these" a smile was on her face as the other elf who just scolded 'santa' thanked the old lady and handed them down to each of their co-workers.

On the other hand, the two siblings blinked in surprise and in confusion at this communication, this is normal? Since when did this walmart santa came in the house with talking reindeers?

Not until Kita had finally registered the familiar voices, a disgusted look was on his face when he faced 'santa' surprising not only 'santa' himself but also most of the people in the room to see him with such emotion.

Relaxing his face back he stared at 'santa' before speaking "Atsumu, who let you in?" The blonde blinked and confusingly before pointing towards you, Gin and Aran, who sat comfortably right beside the tree with Suna and Osamu.

"They said its fine to go through the chimney" Kita nodded and went ahead to the five of you, tapping you on your shoulder as the conversation halted "y'know you can be sued by trespassing our property without permission right?"

You blinked once, then twice, before backing away with a hiss, The four laughing at your reaction while Kita looked at you confused. "I never knew Elves sound like cats" Suna mumbled as he stared at the recording button on his phone, Osamu nodding right beside him.

"We got permission from your parents and obaasan" Aran turned to Kita after confirming you wouldn't answer his question. A faint sound of "I told you to call me Yumie-san!" Was heard as Aran raised his hand and apologized.

"Hm, Otosan why didn't you inform us?" Kits turned to his father, who was taking pictures on his Polaroid camera. "They said they wanted to surprise you, didn't you get surprised?" A smile was on his father's lips as his own slightly twitched upward, a longingful look on his eyes as he slightly looked down.

A voice of excitement suddenly snapped Kita to his senses, more or likely, it alerted the whole household, a smaller version of Kita squealed as he giddly ran towards the walmart Santa, slightly frowning when he realized the santa costume was fake.

Atsumu frowned at the boy, slighly sweating bullets as he signaled his fellow friends for help "Santa, did you go to the gym?" The kid blinked and stared at the blonde.

"Well yes! Santa decided to go to the gym" you said patting the boy on the shoulder as he turned his attention to you, doe eyes looking directly at your, if looks could kill you would be dead on the floor.

"[Name]-chan?" You blinked at the boy, starring at him while the others starred at the two of you in confusion "you know them little boy?" Suna, in a reindeer costume kneeled next to you, a grin on his face.

The little boy nodded and side hugged you "mhm! They helped me with bullies!" Osamu grinned behind you, touching your shoulder "never knew you fight off kids now [name]!"

You huffed as you shrugged off the greynette's hand, patting the smaller boy's shoulder "It was a coincidence"

The boy ran to Kita, pointing at you while you helped up a pouting Atsumu, telling him he is a very bad Santa "Shin-nii! They're the one who threw the kids in the dustbin!"

The whole house halted in sync, slowly looking at you while you paused in place, like those horror movies once they realize the ghost is in the room, you stood up straight, staring at father Kita dead in the eye "I can explain"

Day 25

@suncakie 31 days of Haikyuu

[allthingsfangirl101]

Secret Talent-Link Larkin

I walked out of the house, fixing my backpack strap. I nervously tucked a piece of hair behind my ear when I heard the neighbor's front door open. I glanced over to see Link fixing his hair in his reflection. I quickly looked away and started walking to school with my head down.

Link Larkin and I have lived next to each other our entire lives and gone to school together since preschool. Our parents are really good friends so we've hung out a little, but whenever we did hang out, it was never just us.

He's nice to me when our families have dinner but that's it. As soon as we go to school, he acts like he doesn't know me. It only got more over-the-top when he started singing and dancing on The Corny Collins Show.

It hurt at first, but as we've gotten older I haven't cared. Instead of focusing on him trying to save face at school by ignoring me, I focused on surviving the other kids.

At school, I was known as the intelligent mute. I could answer any question the teacher had, but I could never answer it loud enough for the whole class to hear. They called on me when no one else would answer it and they needed some participation.

By the time Link and I got to high school, he was the singing and dancing star while I remained the smart mute. I was also the student aid for the choir teacher, often playing the piano for her. When it comes to singing, I freeze in front of a crowd. Piano on the other hand is different. With the piano, the focus isn't on me; it's on whoever's singing.

During my lunch, the choir teacher allows me to come in and practice the piano. I looked over my shoulder to check that no one was here before starting to rehearse one of my grandma's favorite songs. My grandpa asked me to play it for her birthday next month and I was still shaky on the bridge.

Wise men say, Only fools, only fools rush in. Oh, but I, but I, I can't help falling in love with you.

Shall I stay? Would it be, would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in love with you.

Like a river flows, Surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes, Some things, you know, are meant to be.

Take my hand. Take my whole life too. For I can't help falling in love with you.

I jumped when I heard a music stand being knocked over. I looked over my shoulder to see Link standing in the doorway with one of his friends from the show behind him.

"Link," I gasped.

"Wow," he said with a small chuckle. "You sound amazing."

I bit my lip, my cheeks burning as I reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Thanks," I stuttered, barely a whisper.

"I didn't know she could sing," Link's friend laughed as if I wasn't within earshot. Link looked over his shoulder and glared at his friend, making him drop his smirk.

While Link was focused on shunning his friend, I grabbed my backpack and slipped out the other door.

                                * * * * *

I quietly hummed to myself as I walked home from school. I had just turned onto our street when I heard someone calling my name and trying to catch up to me. I turned, my heart jumping into my throat when I saw Link jogging towards me with his signature Camera Ready smile on his face.

"I'm glad I caught up to you," he said when he stopped next to me.

"What are you doing?" I stuttered. "Don't you have rehearsal or filming or something?"

"They had to push it back due to a lighting problem," he shrugged.

I tightened my grip on my books, clutching them closer to my chest as he continued to smile at me. I glanced over at my house, wishing I had gotten a few feet further and he wouldn't have caught up to me.

"Listen," he said, slightly clearing his throat. "I'm sorry about what Bryce said at school. That stupid comment about you being Little Mermaid who just got her voice back from the evil Ursala. It wasn't funny."

"It's fine," I cut him off.

"No, it's not," he sighed. "He shouldn't be making those comments. It was rude and. . ."

"Really, Link. It's nothing," I tried to laugh off. "It's not like I haven't heard those kinds of comments before."

"Wait, what?" He asked, concern consuming his face.

"Nothing," I quickly said.

"What did you mean 'those kinds of comments'? Have people made those jokes before?"

"You mean the Little Mermaid jokes?" I scoffed. I tightened my arms around my books and looked away from him. "I've been hearing myself being compared to her ever since the movie came out."

"I'm sorry," he said softly. I could tell he was about to grab my hand so I quickly turned on my heel and started walking to my house. I chewed on my bottom lip when he ran to catch up to me.

"Y/N, don't you think we should talk about this?"

"What else is there to talk about, Link?" I sighed. "It's not like we're. . ."

I quickly stopped talking when I realized what I was about to say to him. I glanced over to see him figuring it out without me saying it. He reached over and grabbed my hand, stopping me.

"Y/N, not like we're what?" He asked slowly. I expected him to release my hand, but he didn't.

I opened and closed my mouth, hesitating. I sighed when I realized that he already knew the truth so I might as well say it.

"Not like we're close, Link."

"We're close," he shrugged, laughing a little. His smile fell when he saw the look on my face. He cleared his throat, finally letting go of my hand. "I mean, I know we don't spend a lot of time together, but it's not like I ignore you. . ."

My heart sank when he dropped his sentence.

"Y/N," he sighed.

"It's fine," I interrupted him. "It's never bothered me that we weren't close. When I said that, I just meant that what people say about me at school shouldn't concern you. It's not your job to protect me from childish insults."

"Still," Link said softly. "They shouldn't be treating you that way."

"But they do," I shrugged. "And it's not your job to stop them."

                                * * * * *

I was rehearsing the choir's set during lunch when I heard the door open. I looked over my shoulder, my fingers hovering over the keys.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked softly.

"I wanted to talk to you," he smiled. "Is now a good time?"

"I guess," I shrugged as I turned around on the piano bench. I bit my lip when he walked over and sat next to me.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked as I played with my fingers.

"I wanted to talk to you about your secret talent."

"My what?" I stuttered, looking up at him.

"You don't just play the piano," he chuckled. "I heard you singing yesterday. You were amazing."

"Thanks," I blushed, looking back down at my fingers.

"How come you don't sing more?" He asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked, going back to stuttering.

"Your voice is beautiful, Y/N," he smiled. "It should be shared."

"Shared," I repeated, my voice barely audible. "You mean. . ."

"Why haven't you ever auditioned for the Corney Collins Show?"

I started laughing but quickly stopped and cleared my throat. I looked away and went back to chewing on my bottom lip and nervously playing with my fingers.

"Why was that so funny?" Link asked, his voice softer than before.

"I just meant. . ." I stuttered.

"Why is the idea of you joining the Corney Collins Show so funny?"

"Well. . . I'm not really. . . I'm not the performing type," I finally got out. "You were born to be in front of the camera. I'm more the type to be behind it."

"That's not true," Link said to try and lighten the mood. "I think you would steal the spotlight."

"I never would," I said as I stood up and instantly straightened my skirt.

"Y/N."

I gasped when he stood up and grabbed my hand, spinning me back towards him. The way he was looking at me made my stomach do flips. Looking into his blue eyes gave me butterflies like I'm never had before.

"If you're nervous about not fitting in with the rest of the cast, your voice would fit in really well. The girls might take some time getting used to you but the boys, well, the boys would warm right up to you. But don't worry about them. I'll keep them away from you. I think the audience would eat you up."

"Link, just stop," I said forcefully as I pulled my hand out of his.

"Y/N," he said slowly. "I didn't mean to. . . I was just trying to. . . Why do you keep such an amazing talent hidden?"

"There's a reason singing is a secret talent of mine," I said my voice slightly breaking. I cleared my throat before adding, "And besides, not all of us are born to be in the spotlight."

                                * * * * *

The next day at school, I avoided Link as much as I could. We don't have any classes together so other than the hallway, I knew I wouldn't run into him. I made sure not to walk by his locker and avoided his usual route to class.

At lunch, I debated eating in the library but at the last minute, I decided to eat in the lunchroom. I had barely sat down and gotten my lunch out when I was no longer alone.

"What did you mean?"

His sudden voice made me jumped. I looked up and watched speechlessly as he sat across from me. I looked behind him to see everyone from his show watching us. My cheeks burned when Amber glared at me.

"What?" I stuttered, finally looking back at Link.

"The other day," he began to explain, "you told me that there was a reason singing is a secret talent of yours. Why is that?"

I opened and closed my mouth, unable to find the strength to tell him the truth. Right when I finally got up the nerve, I glanced over at Amber again.

Her glare made me shake my head and look down at my hands. Link turned around and made eye contact with Amber. Her glare quickly lifted and turned into her innocent/flirty face.

"What did she do?" He asked before looking back at me. "Y/N, does your secret talent being a secret have anything to do with Amber?"

I bit my lip when Link stood up. I fought the tears as he reached down, grabbed my hand, and pulled me up.

"What are you. . ." I stuttered, finally looking at him.

"Come with me," he whispered.

I watched as he grabbed my stuff along with his. I didn't object as he grabbed my hand, instantly intertwining our fingers. He led me out of the cafeteria and through the school. The closer we got to the library, the more my hand burned.

"What are we doing in here?" I asked as he led me through the library, to the back where our librarian set up a small reading nook.

"This is your favorite place," he said with a small chuckle.

"How did you know that?" I asked under my breath.

"It looks like the one your dad built you in the window," Link said, his cheeks slightly changing color. "You used to sit there all the time and read until your parents dragged you out of it. I used to. . . I used to watch you."

"You watched me?"

"I know how that sounds," he stuttered. "It was just so interesting. While I was practicing my dance moves and stretching my vocal range, you were always reading a book. I used to wonder if you'd ever run out of books to read."

"I hope not," I chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. He looked up at me and smiled. I felt my cheeks burn the longer he stared at me. I looked away and played with my fingers.

"What are we doing here, Link?"

"Does Amber have anything to do with your secret talent being a secret?" He asked his question again.

"Link," I started to say but he interrupted me.

"Did she do something?" He started to ramble. "Did she say something? What could she possibly say or do that would lead you to hide your amazing talent? I mean, I've never heard anyone sing as well as you do. All the girls on the show combined can't sing as well as you can. Amber is the only one who would ever try and manipulate or sabotage you. Is that why? Did she. . ."

"Link, stop." I cut him off. "You're really making a bigger deal out of this than you should. It happened years ago."

"What happened?"

"It has nothing to do with Amber," I tried to reassure him. "I mean, yes we were in the same voice lessons growing up, but she didn't do anything. It happened when we were twelve."

"What?"

"When I sing in a choir or with other people, I'm fine. But when I sing on my own. . ." I cleared my throat, the memories and the embarrassment coming flooding back. "It was my first solo. Amber and I had been going head-to-head for this solo. When we found out that I got it, she was furious. Every rehearsal she would tell me that I was going to blow it. Well, the night of our performance finally came and. . . She was right. I blew it."

"What do you mean?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I looked up, expecting Link to be laughing, but there wasn't an ounce of judgment in his eyes as he waited for me to continue.

"I went up to the mic and our pianist started the song. When it was my cue to sing, I couldn't. I opened my mouth, but for the life of me, nothing came out. I saw everyone staring at me, waiting for me to start singing, and all I could hear was Amber's voice telling me that she knew this would happen. Next thing I knew, I ran off the stage. I didn't wait for the show to end, I had to get out of there. I grabbed my stuff and started walking home."

Why was I telling Link Larkin this story?!

"What about your parents?" Link asked, sounding like he wasn't sure this question was okay for him to ask. "Weren't they waiting for you in the audience?"

"They were," I sighed. "My dad actually caught me down the street. They took me home and I went straight to my room. They didn't ask any questions, they didn't give me a lecture, they didn't push me. They allowed me to lock myself in my room until I was ready to come out. The next day, my mom asked if I wanted to go to the party my voice group was having but I didn't. She didn't ask why. Instead, she asked if I wanted to continue my voice lessons. After a lot of thought, I decided not to. I shifted my focus to the piano."

When I stopped talking, I waited for Link to say something about it, but he didn't say anything. I could tell he was thinking about everything I just said.

"Is Amber's comments the reason you didn't go back to voice lessons?"

"Not fully," I shrugged. "I was embarrassed but. . ."

"But you were worried about Amber saying, 'I told you so'," he finished for me. I bit the inside of my cheek as I nodded. He sighed as he reached over and took both of my hands in his.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to pressure you. It's just. . . I've been thinking a lot about you."

"You have?" I asked, my voice soft.

"Yeah," he chuckled, his cheeks turning pink. "Ever since I heard you sing, I can't seem to get your voice out of my head."

"Link," I whispered as I slowly pulled my hands out of his.

"There's something I have to tell you," he said eagerly. "Ever since we were kids. . .  I always wanted. . . I was worried you thought I was just your parents' friends' kid. . . So I never. . ."

"Link," I cut off his rambling. "You aren't making any sense."

"I've always had a crush on you," he blurted out.

My heart jumped into my throat as I tried to study my neighbor. My mind went all over the place as I tried to digest what he just said.

"I've had a crush on you ever since we were kids," he continued. "I know we didn't spend that much time together, but I noticed how cute you were and how kind you were, and soon I wanted. . ."

"Wanted what?" I barely asked.

"I wanted to be more than just your parents' friends' son."

"You wanted more?"

My breath got stuck in my throat as he grabbed my hands, slowly pulling me closer to him.

"Want," he corrected as he leaned in.

I let out a shaky breath as he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. Our lips didn't start moving in sync, they just pressed together. Link slowly broke the kiss, instantly looking into my eyes. Before I could stop myself, I let go of his hands and wrapped my arms around his neck.

I hesitated for only a second before standing on my toes and pressing my lips back to his. I felt him smile as he wrapped his arms around my waist and started kissing me back.

We broke apart when the school bell rang. I felt a blush creep onto my face as I stared into his eyes.

"We're umm. . . We're going to be late for class," I whispered.

"You're right," he chuckled. I smiled when he still hadn't let me go.

"And we should probably go before the librarian finds us," I added. Link laughed as he slowly let me go. The second his arms were unwrapped from around my body, he grabbed my hands and intertwined our fingers.

"Before we go," he said softly, "I'm sorry for pressuring you into joining Corney's show. It's none of my business why you don't want to perform. What is my business is what happens with you and me."

"You and me?" I asked under my breath.

Link reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear as he nodded. My smile fell when I realized who I was talking to and what we were talking about.

"Are you sure?" I stuttered.

"What?" Link chuckled. "Why wouldn't I be sure?"

"Well, because," I stuttered. "You're Link Larkin, the best male dancer on the Corney Collins Show. Why would you want to be with a girl who has stage fright?"

"That's not what I see," he smiled. "I see the girl next door. The girl who I spent way too much time staring out my window and watching her read. The girl who I'd see in the hallway and wish I had the guts to talk to. The girl who I've had a crush on since we were little."

"Link," I stuttered as I tried to walk away.

He shook his head as he pulled me back into his chest. He instantly leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was soft and gentle. When he broke it, his Camera Ready smile was there.

"You and me, Y/N."

"But Amber. . ."

"Forget about her," he said instantly. "What other people say, doesn't matter. What does matter is what we want. And I want you, Y/N. So what do you want?"

I bit my bottom lip, looking into his eyes. As I stared at him, I realized that all the snap judgments I've made about him since he joined The Corney Collins Show were wrong.

Before I could stop myself, I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his. Link smiled as he let go of my hands, wrapping his arms around my waist, and kissed me back.

I broke the kiss, slowly lowering off of my toes. Link smiled down at me as he subconsciously tightened his arms around my waist.

"You," I whispered. "I want you, Link."

He let out a relieved chuckle as he pulled me closer. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. Our lips immediately started moving in sync as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

We broke the kiss when we heard voices walking into the library. I slowly unwrapped my arms from around him, chewing on my bottom lip.

"We should go," I said, barely audible.

Link smiled as he nodded. We hesitated before finally pulling away from each other and grabbing our backpacks. I was just about to walk out of the library when Link stopped me. He grabbed my hand, instantly intertwining our fingers.

"I won't let anyone come between us," he said, looking down at our hands. "If anyone, and I mean anyone, says something about you or how you're quiet, I'll handle it."

"Link," I tried to calm him down.

"I mean it," he said, looking up at me. "I won't let anyone say we aren't good for each other."

"Promise?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Link leaned down and pressed his lips gently to mine. He broke the kiss and smiled at me. This wasn't his Camera Ready smile. It was his real one.

"I promise."

undefined

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Nineteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: another chapter where the girls are clowns and cassian worships nesta's every breath 🙄 i promise some variety is headed your way soon

***

Gwyn adamantly refuses to accept any gifts for her birthday, much to Emerie’s irritation and Nesta’s relief. No amount of love for her friends can make Nesta enjoy the turmoil of hunting for the perfect gift, and she happily shows up at Gwyn’s apartment that night with nothing save for an overnight bag.

Gwyn easily has the nicest home out of all three of the girls, and it makes Nesta feel oddly proud to have a financially stable friend. Nesta herself has been flacking on her legal consultant duties to Night Court Inc., choosing to make do with the money she’s already earned while focusing on school.

Once they’ve all changed into sleep clothes and are settled around the living room coffee table with a cupcake and a glass of wine each, Gwyn pulls out a brightly colored bracelet-making kit with a sheepish grin. “I found this while I was looking through my childhood things,” she says, opening the kit. “You guys aren’t too grown for it, are you?”

“Depends,” Emerie hums, leaning over to get a closer look. “Is it Rainbow Loom?”

She gets her answer when Gwyn dumps out bundles of multicolored string instead of rubber bands onto the table. Looking disappointed, Emerie plucks up a handful of string. “Fine, I guess I can make do.”

Nesta licks cream cheese frosting off her thumb. “How do you make them? The bracelets?”

She’s met with two dumbfounded stares. “Have you never been to a thirteen year old’s slumber party?” Gwyn says.

“...No?”

When Gwyn and Emerie keep staring, Nesta feels the need to add, “I’ve never been to a sleepover. This is my first.” She was never one to be invited to sleepovers or social gatherings; even when she made acquaintances in middle and high school, they were just that—acquaintances.

“That’s… actually kind of sad,” Emerie says. Gwyn elbows her hard, making her yelp.

“I never thought of it that way,” Nesta says, shrugging. Though maybe it’s because a lot of things about her childhood were sad; it isn’t like she kept count of it all.

“Well, you can learn how to make bracelets now,” Gwyn states, taking out a little plastic baggie and emptying it out onto the table. Small silver charms scatter everywhere. “Everyone gets three colors and one charm.”

Nesta leans forward, making out the different charms. She spies one in the shape of a book, and another in the shape of a dove, and one in the shape of a music note. She snatches up the eighth note before anyone else can. Gwyn takes the book for herself, and Emerie considers the selection of charms before picking a dagger-shaped one. They prepare their string next.

“Now, we can either braid them or knot them.” Gwyn demonstrates how to do it either way, Nesta watching closely before imitating her. She braids the strings of her bracelet as best she can, her cheeks turning red with frustration whenever she spies one of the other girls’ perfect knots. Her half-eaten cupcake is forgotten as she tries to get her bracelet to stay together.

At one point she just has to accept the shoddy work she’s done and tie the bracelet off. She checks to see if it fits on her wrist.

“Now everyone give their bracelet to the person on their left,” Gwyn declares.

Nesta clutches her sloppily-made bracelet to her chest as Emerie responds, “What?”

“So we can wear each other’s bracelets,” Gwyn explains. “And carry around a part of each other all the time.”

“If I had known we were gonna be sentimental, I wouldn’t have picked the cute charm,” Emerie grumbles. Nesta agrees, but Gwyn just clicks her tongue and starts switching bracelets around. In the end, Nesta has Emerie’s dagger bracelet, Gwyn has Nesta’s music note bracelet, and Emerie has Gwyn’s book charm.

Nesta wiggles her bracelet on and turns her wrist over in the light. “That was fun,” she decides. “What happens next at a sleepover?”

“Next,” Gwyn says, “we exchange our most embarrassing secrets with each other, and then we do each other’s hair.”

Emerie shakes her head. “Okay, now I’m really too old for this. Anyone want to watch a movie?”

Gwyn nudges Emerie. “I’m the old one here, and it’s my birthday.” She raises her pert chin in a way that doesn’t look very grown up at all. “What I say goes.”

Emerie flicks up an eyebrow and stares in challenge, which Nesta interrupts by saying, rather exasperatedly, “I’ll go first, then.”

She digs around in her head for something embarrassing enough to be socially acceptable, only to realize that although a lot of embarrassing things have happened to her before, none of them are secrets. She finally settles on an admission. “When I was a kid, I had a thing for breaking and entering into rich people’s empty houses and hanging out in them. Does that count as a secret?”

Gwyn gapes, laughing in disbelief. “Are you going to leave it at that?”

“That actually sounds fun.” Emerie swirls her wine. “Why’d you stop?”

Nesta had almost forgotten. “I got caught.” She remembers the terror of being fourteen and fleeing past cherry blossom trees on her bare feet. “The owner’s family showed up early to vacation one year, and I never risked going back after that.” She shrugs. “Who’s next?”

Gwyn raises her hand excitedly. “I used to be a hardcore Gleek. Like, I had a closet full of Glee memorabilia.”

Nesta doesn’t quite know what to say. Emerie winces. “Maybe you should’ve kept that one a secret.”

“It was only one facet of my entire theatre kid personality. Should I tell you about the rest?”

Emerie raises her hands in surrender. “Please don’t. I’ll go next if it makes you stop.”

Gwyn laughs and Nesta perks up. “What’s your secret?” She hopes Emerie will finally admit to filling their shared Kindle account with lesbian spanking fiction.

But Emerie suddenly gets serious, clearing her throat and fingering the stem of her wine glass. “I might have the worst secret,” she says awkwardly. “I haven’t been honest with you guys.”

Nesta straightens, and Gwyn looks intrigued.

“In my defense,” Emerie says, “I never expected all of us to end up hanging out this much. Before Nesta and I became friends, all I did was show up to school to kick rich kids’ asses and make career connections.”

“Spit it out, Emerie,” Nesta tells her.

So she does. “I’ve been lying about my age.” Her cheeks turn red, either from alcohol or embarrassment, Nesta doesn’t know.

Nesta furrows her brows. “You’re not twenty-four?”

Emerie shakes her head in guilt.

“How old are you, then?” Gwyn says.

Emerie mutters something too low for them to hear. When Gwyn tells her to repeat herself, she says, too loudly, “Twenty-eight.”

She’s met with silence, and then—

Gwyn starts cackling, nearly keeling over. Nesta can only stare in shock. “Why would you—?”

“Because school is a shark tank,” Emerie says. “Everyone else went there straight out of undergrad, and I had to work four jobs for four years just to afford tuition. Being old at Prythian means being poor.” She quietens, looking down at her brown hands twisted together. “And by the time we started to get close, it felt too weird to bring up. So… I’m sorry?” She looks up to see if Nesta is upset.

Nesta doesn’t know what to feel, but Gwyn seems to. “You called me old,” she accuses. “You’re nearly a grandma!”

“Were you going to lie about your age forever?” Nesta interjects.

“If I had known there was going to be a forever, I would have opened up a lot sooner,” Emerie defends.

Nesta drops her head onto the table and covers her ears with her arms. “This is so weird,” she says against the wood of the table, her voice muffled. “I can never look at you the same way ever again.”

“That’s fair,” Emerie says cautiously. “But are you really mad?” Nesta feels a hesitant hand touch her shoulder.

“I need time to process,” Nesta says from her cocoon. Suddenly she hears a hum and a click, and her cocoon gets even darker. Gwyn and Emerie make twin sounds of surprise.

Poking her head up, Nesta blinks to find total darkness in the apartment. The heater has stopped running, leaving behind a quiet stillness.

“Shit,” Gwyn curses, fumbling with her phone. The flashlight turns on, lighting up her face. “I swear I paid my electric bill.”

“I don’t think it’s just you,” Emerie says, getting up to look out the window. “Look, the whole street is out.”

By the time they gather some candles and light them, the apartment has dropped twenty degrees in temperature. Nesta shudders, wishing she’d brought some warm pants with her.

“Let me get us some blankets,” Gwyn says, running off to the linen closet. Emerie and Nesta huddle together on the couch while they wait.

“So you’re really not mad at me?” Emerie asks, hope in her voice.

“Not mad,” Nesta says. “But I think we all lost a little respect for you back there.”

Emerie smiles. “Just a little?”

Gwyn comes back then wearing a thick sweater and carrying a pile of comforters. “I got a text from the landlord,” she says, unceremoniously dropping the blankets onto the couch. “Ice took out the power lines in the whole neighborhood, and we’re not getting any electricity until morning.”

“But it’s negative temperatures outside,” Nesta protests. “We’ll freeze to death.”

“Not if we all cuddle.” Gwyn tries to beam at them, but the effort is futile. “I’m sorry, guys,” she sighs, plopping onto the couch beside Nesta. “This is a terrible birthday celebration.”

Nesta wraps an arm around Gwyn and tucks her into her side, soaking up her warmth as Emerie spreads a heavy comforter over all of their legs. “What are you apologizing for? You did nothing wrong.”

The girls sit in silence for a few minutes until Emerie speaks up. “I wonder what Mr. Madani is doing right now.”

“What?” Nesta frowns.

“He’s probably all alone in his fancy heated cabin, unaware that you’re stuck in the cold dark.” Emerie suddenly smacks Nesta’s arm. “Hey. Why are we freezing our asses off here when you practically own that cabin?”

“I do not practically own that cabin,” Nesta splutters. “And this is Gwyn’s birthday. Why would I take you to Cassian’s place on her birthday?”

“Exactly!” Emerie says. “It’s Gwyn’s birthday, and she deserves better than this. Can’t your boyfriend be a little charitable and share his nice house with us?”

Nesta turns to Gwyn for help, but Gwyn just says carefully, “...Is it a big cabin?”

Emerie nods fiercely, pulling out her phone. “Eris has a picture of it from New Year’s on his Instagram. You wouldn’t believe how much money these Night Court execs make.”

Nesta makes pointed eyes at Gwyn. “You really want to spend your birthday with two strange men?” Cassian and Azriel aren’t exactly meek, nonthreatening men either—at least not at first glance. Considering the state Gwyn was in just some weeks ago, this doesn’t sound like a good idea at all.

Gwyn sounds wary but open-minded when she says, “You trust them, right? And it’s not like we’re going to let the guys join our sleepover. We’re just going to have a warm place to stay while we wait for my power to come back.”

When it’s phrased like that… Nesta purses her lips, thinking.

“Fine,” she finally decides. “Let’s go.”

***

Nesta strips off her jeans almost as soon as she enters the cabin. Much to Cassian’s pride and pleasure, this leaves her wearing only one of his old sweatshirts. Meanwhile, Gwyn and Emerie stand around awkwardly in the middle of the living area without knowing what to do next.

“Make yourselves at home.” Cassian grins at them. “Do you need anything? Food? Drinks?”

“Stop worrying,” Nesta groans. “We don’t need to be mothered.”

“I totally hear you,” he nods. “I’ll make cookies.” And maybe some hot drinks. It’s supposed to be a birthday party, after all.

Just then, Azriel appears at the top of the stairs in a dark hoodie and sweats. He’s halfway down the steps when he notices the living room full of girls and promptly turns around.

Cassian calls his name before he can escape. “Want to help me out in the kitchen?”

“No, thanks,” Az says over his shoulder, leaving Cassian alone to play host.

While Gwyn and Emerie admire the cabin (“There’s a gym down the hallway and a library upstairs,” Nesta points out to them), Cassian gathers baking ingredients in the kitchen. He rarely eats desserts or junk food, much less makes them, but surely he can manage a snack for the girls.

When he returns to the living room half an hour later with cookies and mugs of hot chocolate, the coffee table has been moved out of the way and replaced with a spread of blankets and pillows. The fire crackles hotly enough that Gwyn and Emerie have joined Nesta in discarding any extra clothing articles, and they all cheer from the couch when they spy the food.

“Goddamn,” Emerie whistles at the platter of cookies on Nesta’s lap. “Nesta told us you were a catch, Mr. Madani, but she didn’t tell us she got the full housewife package.”

“Shut up.” Nesta shoves a cookie into Emerie’s mouth and passes Gwyn some hot chocolate. Any toughness vanishes when she looks back at Cassian. “Thank you,” she mouths, and he answers by smoothing out her ponytail.

Satisfied with his work and feeling guilty for crashing the girls’ fun, he’s about to call it a night when he feels a tug at his pants. Nesta is looking up at him with eyes that ask him to stay. Cassian glances nervously to Gwyn and Emerie, who are arguing about what movie to watch from his extensive streaming collection, and glances back to Nesta. Are you sure? he asks her silently.

She nods, but it isn’t until Gwyn says, “Just sit down, you’re blocking the TV,” that he indeed sits his ass down on the floor by Nesta’s feet.

A short tug of war between Gwyn and Emerie results in Emerie getting the remote. She blows a hair triumphantly out of her face. “No Planet Earth documentary for you, then,” she says.

Gwyn sits back, grumbling, “You’d think I’d get treated better on my damn birthday.” Nesta adds, “I like documentaries.”

“You’ll like The Proposal even more,” Emerie refutes, scrolling through the TV.

The smell of melting chocolate chips must invade the rest of the cabin, because not long after the movie begins, Cassian catches Azriel sneaking downstairs. As subtle as a shadow, no one even notices him until he plucks up a cookie from the side table by Nesta.

She slides her eyes over to him without turning her head. “You look like a punk with your hood up,” she snorts. “What are you, fifteen?”

From the floor, Cassian withholds a sigh.

Az shoots her a dark look, clearly not appreciating the attention brought to his presence. “Don’t be a little shit,” he warns in a low tone. He reaches for another cookie and Nesta bats his hand away. “Those aren’t for you,” she hisses.

“Can we please not—” Cassian tries.

Az glares and goes for the cookie again. Nesta smacks him back, which results in a slap fight that is only interrupted by Gwyn pleading, “Guys, we’re missing Sandra Bullock!”

Nesta pulls away, looking apologetic, and Az flushes pink. “Sorry,” he mutters. But he snatches up three cookies with a final look at Nesta and goes to sit in the armchair on the other side of the room.

Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie get cozy once more, quickly forgetting that Az is there. Emerie stretches her brown legs out across Gwyn’s lap like a cat. Nesta drapes her own leg over Cassian’s shoulder without warning. He turns around to meet her eyes, surprised, but she’s already intently focused on the movie. Smiling faintly to himself, he reaches up to brush her skin. It probably looks to everyone else like she owns him head to toe.

One thing Cassian quickly learns about the girls is that they simply can’t sit still. Even Nesta is more restless than usual, and she nearly kicks Cassian in the head more than once while readjusting herself on the couch. Emerie moves to sprawl on the rug. Gwyn sits upside down and watches with her head dangling off the seat.

As for Cassian, he loses all interest in the movie once Nesta joins him and Emerie on the floor, unable to contain her emotions from the couch. He glances between the movie and her face to find what’s making her so giddy, but it’s only the two main characters getting ready for a shower. He lifts a brow in amusement for no one to see, but settles back to watch her face in the glow of the dying fire. He’s waiting for her smile.

Because when Nesta really likes something, she’ll smile, and when she smiles… Everything scrunches up: her nose, her eyes, her cheeks.

On the TV, a naked Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock collide into each other, toppling to the floor. Nesta’s grin makes an appearance, and she slaps Cassian’s thigh in excitement, hard enough to hurt.

He hisses in a sharp breath, but doesn’t say anything or look away. He thinks he might have to kill anyone that refuses to protect the smile on her face right now, no matter who it is.

Once the scene changes, he walks two fingers up her leg to get her attention. “Nesta,” he whispers, unable to help himself.

She glances at him for half a second before looking back to the movie. “What?”

He opens his arms and gestures her closer. Come and let me hold you.

Nesta makes a face. “Don’t embarrass me in front of the girls.”

Cassian’s lips turn down. “You don’t mean that.”

She does. To prove her point, she crawls closer to Emerie and settles down next to her. Gwyn joins them on the floor, and they all huddle together.

When he catches Az staring at him with a hint of revulsion, Cassian coughs off the yearning and rejection and glares right back.

After the movie finishes, Emerie victoriously crushes an empty can of beer in her fist. Cassian has no idea where it came from. “More Sandra!” she demands.

It takes three more movies before Emerie is knocked out cold on the arrangement of blankets and pillows on the floor, Gwyn with her. Nesta eventually came back to Cassian and fell asleep with her arms wrapped around his waist, and Azriel passed out sometime after Miss Congeniality, curled up in the armchair with his fist propping up his head.

Now, Cassian carefully untangles Nesta from himself, nudging her towards Emerie instead. In her sleep, Nesta turns over to clutch the other woman’s arm and mumbles something unintelligible.

Cassian props a pillow gently beneath her head and picks up another one, throwing it harder than he needs to at Azriel’s face. “Get up,” he hisses.

Az jerks out of his sleep, looking around the dim room in confusion. Cursing lowly, he pushes himself out of his seat and scrubs a hand through his hair. “What time is it?”

“Three.” Cassian pulls a comforter over Nesta and Emerie’s shoulders.

Az crouches and picks up the other side of the comforter, adjusting it over Gwyn’s body. Cassian thinks he might see a frown cross his face for half a second, but then Az is standing up and brushing off his clothes.

After turning off the TV, the guys head for their rooms. “I didn’t think three grown women could be so... much,” Az says as they climb up the stairs.

Cassian huffs a laugh. “We were like that when we were younger, too.”

“Yeah, but we were teenagers.”

They reach the hallway. “I don’t know about the others,” Cassian says thoughtfully, “but Nesta never got to be a normal kid.” She barely got to be a normal adult. And in a couple of short years, she’ll be working her ass off at some prestigious firm and won’t have time for simple things like sleepovers anymore.

Cassian selfishly hopes he can give Nesta all the normalcy he can before that happens.

***

a/n: i’m gonna do my best in future chapters to give cassian depth beyond just his relationship with nesta 🥴 but first, be on the lookout for a gwynriel bonus scene :)

tags: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara9 @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad

[ditch-witches]

asa butterfield x reader

request: wasn’t requested, but we wrote this in march and decided to post. we’re opening our inbox to other actors and characters, so feel free to send us a request :)

warnings: mentions of sex (slight), crude language, a family gathering

word count: ~2000

Your grandmother threw open her front door, hair in curlers to match her fuzzy pink slippers. Her face brightened at the sight of you, yet once her eyes fell to Asa it was like you were last year's ham. She nearly hooted in excitement before throwing her arms around him and dragging him inside, Asa’s face furrowing as he looked back at you. You smirked slightly, hanging your jacket on the already full coat tree by the door and kicking off your shoes before meandering through her gigantic house in search of your boyfriend. There were various cousins sprawled out around her living room and hanging out of the archway to the kitchen while watching whatever sport was on TV. 

You furrowed your brows at the group and half of them pointed down the hallway where a round of hollering and an old crackly radio was sounding off. You nodded and moved in the direction they sent you, turning a few corners before going through the sliding glass door in the back, spotting Asa being shown off to several of your uncles from different generations and your older cousins by your small grandmother. You sighed, coming out from behind them and capturing the attention of the group who greeted you with smiles and a few pinches on the arm. The stereotypical conversation questions were thrown around briefly: How is school? How’s the job? Are you hungry? 

Some of the guys were talking to Asa and shaking his hand a ridiculous amount until you finally had enough. “Oma, maybe you should go get ready?” You suggested, finally taking hold of Asa’s arm to pull him from her grasp. She inhaled sharply as if forgetting she was walking around in a housecoat while her guests continued to fill her house. You were sure Asa would already be overwhelmed, him being whisked off was not what you had expected, but he remained smiling, talking to whoever started conversations with him. You couldn’t really believe it but Asa was prospering. 

Before you knew it, the two of you were sat beside each other at a long table of most of your cousins, separate from the massive group of adults, passing food amongst yourself and talking over the polka music that seemed to always be playing from the radio in the living room. You leaned over to Asa as he passed you a basket of rolls. “Are you all right?” You whispered, passing the food again. 

He smiled at you slightly, his icy blue eyes seemingly lighting up even more. “Never better. Relax, okay?” He mumbled, sending you a wink. You hadn’t realized how tensed up you were as you dropped your shoulders at his words. If you weren’t surrounded by family members, you would have kissed him. The meal went on without ripples, listening to how people were doing in school and sitting through several of the members of the family closer to your age tell embarrassing stories about yourself to Asa like it had happened last week, not when you were three and still wearing Garanimals. 

“You’re Asa, right?” One of your middle school aged cousins asked from across the table. She put her chin in her hand, her makeup more intricate than you ever could master. He shook his head hesitantly. “You’re probably so good you don’t use protection. Am I right?” Her almost seductive glance and question made you choke on your water and Asa’s mouth dropped open a bit as the man beside her cackled heavily. 

“Oh, my God,” you breathed. “You can’t say that,” you hissed and she shrugged. 

Her eyes trailed him from across the table. “I don’t hear a ‘no’.” 

You groaned, telling Asa to ignore her through gritted teeth. “You should always use protection,” he answered instead, attempting to hold back his own laugh as you kicked him under the table, sending the man next to her into even greater fits of laughter. 

“Are you staying at oma’s tonight?” Another asked, thankfully one that hadn’t heard the previous topic. 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, debating if it was too late to get a hotel. “No, I haven’t drawn a card yet…” You mumbled, trying not to alert Asa beside you. 

Your actions were for nothing as he piped up. “What is drawing a card?” 

At his question, several of the cousins attempted to answer at once, urging you to let him be the one to draw this time and you shook your head. “My grandmother has a deck of cards that have locations written on them and whenever there’s a family gathering, you draw a card to figure out where you’re staying. It’s because my dad’s generation all fought over who was staying with Uncle Mike,” you answered, closer to his ear to combat the several voices. “But we should just get a hotel room-” 

“That’s breaking the rules and you know it!” Another cousin yelled, pointing his fork at you. 

You shook your head. “You’re a grown ass man and you still want a shot at staying with Uncle Mike?” You almost snapped, making him shrug. 

“You’re just pissed because you never get it!” He snapped back. 

You shook your head almost dramatically. “What if I didn’t want to stay with Uncle Mike?” 

“Liar!” 

“I like staying with oma!” 

He sent you a sarcastic smile as if to call your bullshit. “Fine then, we’re taking bets on who has to sleep in the tent.” 

You had almost forgotten Asa was there until he piped up. “I have ten on you then,” he quipped and your heart slightly fluttered at him as your cousin pointed to him, leaning over the table aggressively to shake Asa’s hand as the other cousins began saying it was other people. One got up to grab an old pad of paper to take down the bets and you pinched the bridge of your nose between your index finger and thumb. Asa was loving every minute of this. 

After dinner, half of your great uncles were passed out on the couch and your grandmother was shuffling her beat up deck of cards, long past the date it should have been retired. Your heart began to beat slightly, the adrenaline rushing through you as you thought about the bets that were made and the possibility of having to sleep outdoors. You sat on the couch, watching closely as the deck was brought around, shuffled and fanned out for each of the kids. Meanwhile Asa leaned his elbows on his knees, playing Cat’s Cradle with one of your younger cousins. Your leg rested against his as you focused on the cards, maybe it wasn’t the chance that you would have to sleep in a beat up old tent, but rather the rush of competition. So far, most of the spaces in the upper level of your grandma’s house had been taken as well as the spots in your cousin’s. Uncle Mike’s had yet to be completely claimed and the tent still hung in the air. 

The deck came towards you, your grandmother swooping down slightly for the cousin that was entranced by the string game. She drew a card: the top bunk of one of many stacked beds at Uncle Mike’s. Her older brother cheered, knowing that you now had an even bigger chance of getting the tent. The deck was offered to Asa, your grandmother raising an eyebrow. “No, I don’t trust him,” you quickly stated, ignoring his sarcastically hurt expression. The deck was turned to you. “I love you, but you have some of the worst luck.” Your mind raced at what was left and then you realized that Asa would be sleeping with you. Then you prayed to whatever higher being could help you to not give you an upper floor. “We have a lot riding on this,” you muttered as she fanned the cards for you. You drew your card, quickly turning it over and snapping it around towards your cousins who all groaned at the fluent, swirling writing your grandma was known for. 

“Are you kidding!” 

“How?” 

“Fuck! I could have bought a ton of M&M’s with that money.” 

Your grandma whipped around to the last cousin to speak, yanking on his ear quickly and hissing, “Halt deinen Mund!” He put his hands up in defense looking at her with wide eyes and you smirked. 

“Yeah, Halt deinen Mund,” you mocked and she snapped her fingers at you, making you close your mouth quickly before she moved on. You all broke out into a fit of giggles silently, relieved that no one had the tent yet. The one who made the bet with Asa was who you hoped would get it, in all honesty. You finally let out a breath, relaxing completely. 

You snuggled into your seat, crossing your legs and throwing an arm around the section of the back of the couch where Asa was sitting. He leaned back, tucking under your arm slightly, raising an eyebrow in your direction. “And where did we get?” 

You handed him the card. “Oma’s back basement room. There’s a waterbed, but other than that, it’s a win.” 

He chuckled, flipping the card between his long fingers. “That could be fun,” he whispered slightly and you pushed his face away with your hand as he laughed. As the party died down enough that people were heading to their designated spots or out back to set piles of leaves on fire, you and Asa grabbed your bags and headed through the maze of a house to your room for the night and possibly the next. It really depended on how much Asa could actually take of your family. 

Your room was just off the retro bar that was always used around the winter holidays. You thanked whoever was looking out for you up above as you threw your bags down on one of the dated couches and peaked into the newly renovated bathroom. “So, how are you feeling?” You asked, putting your hands on your hips as he slipped his sweater over his head and readjusting his t-shirt. 

“I’m exhausted,” he stated, biting back a wide grin before plopping down into the middle of the bed, it sloshed around under his movements and he giggled slightly before laying back. You perked an eyebrow. “I’m ready. Fuck me on a waterbed,” he jeered, smirking up at you. 

He tucked his arms beneath his head, and you sent him a tilted expression. “You are so strange.”

[amanda-glassen]

My Love, My Life

For the “My Love, My Life - ABBA” square of @storiesofsvu​ fall bingo.

Characters: Olivia Benson, Serena Benson

Serena reflects on the past 18 years the night before Olivia moves to LA for college. (The Wonder Years universe)

Serena woke up to her four-year-old daughter’s hand on her face for the second time that night. They knew Charlie was old enough to sleep in her own bed, but Jamie didn’t have the heart to say no to her whenever she stood in the doorway clutching her Chucky doll and asking if she could sleep with them. Charlie may have looked like Serena and acted like her, but she and Jamie had a bond that Serena felt she wasn’t always a part of. The closeness Jamie had with Charlie is what Serena had with Olivia－her big baby as she affectionately called her, her big baby that was leaving home in less than eight hours.

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, Serena kissed her sleeping daughter on the cheek and walked down the hall to Olivia’s room. There were two large pieces of luggage and a carry-on bag propped up against the wall, ready for her flight. Olivia was only taking her clothes and the plan was to buy everything she’d need for her dorm when they were over there. Her room would remain the same and Serena didn’t know if that was a source of comfort or if she’d spend hours crying on Olivia’s bed when she was gone.

Olivia may have been eighteen and going off to college but when Serena saw her fast asleep that night holding onto her stuffed t-rex, all she could see was the little girl who would give her kisses when she tucked her into bed each night. 

I held you close to me

Felt your heartbeat and I thought I am free

Oh, yes and as one are we

In the now and beyond

Nothing and no one can break this bond

Scenes from Olivia’s childhood started playing in her mind and, when she closed her eyes tightly, she could swear she had been transported to their old apartment. It was small and humble but that tiny apartment held the happiest moments of Serena’s life because as long as she had Olivia, she had all she needed. She could smell five-year-old Olivia’s strawberry-scented children’s shampoo and feel her heart beating fast as she held onto her. Her little girl had had a nightmare and was depending on her for comfort and protection. 

“It’s okay, baby,” Serena told her as they sat in the rocking chair and she attempted to rock Olivia back to sleep. “Mommy’s here. I’ll always keep you safe.”

Her tiny hand clenched Serena’s tank top as she started to calm down. “Mommy, I’m a big kid now. I don’t wanna be scared like a baby.”

“Everyone is afraid of something, Ollie girl.”

“Even you?” her daughter looked at her, wide-eyed.

“Even me,” Serena smiled.

“Are you afraid of the boogeyman?”

“No,” Serena tickled her, causing Olivia to giggle. “The boogeyman and I are best friends. I send him after your uncle Kyle all the time.”

“Mommy,” Olivia continued to giggle. “What are you afraid of then?”

“Hmm,” Serena gently bit her lip as she tried to think of what she was afraid of. “You know that really grouchy professor who gave Mommy a bad grade? I think I’m afraid of her.”

“What about the monster under the bed?”

Serena absentmindedly twirled one of Olivia’s curls around her finger. “Oh that monster. Remember that time we went to Grandma and Grandpa’s house by Lake Tahoe and I sprayed you with that stuff to keep the mosquitos away? Well, how about if I make something for you to keep the monsters away?”

“Okay.” Olivia laid her head on her chest. “Mommy, can I sleep with you tonight? And tomorrow we can make monster spray?”

“You can sleep with me anytime you want, baby.”

That night she cuddled Olivia close in her bed, making sure to stay awake until she knew her little girl was fast asleep. “Mommy, you’re my hero,” her daughter said in a sleepy voice. “You’re the most bravest mommy in the whole world.”

But thirteen years later, as she stood in the doorway of her daughter’s room, she no longer felt brave. What her daughter couldn’t comprehend during the conversation they had when she was five was that Serena’s biggest fear was the day Olivia grew up and left home. 

I am invincible, how could this go wrong?

No, here, here's where we belong

I see a road ahead

I never thought I would dare to tread

For the first time since she became a teenager, Serena climbed into bed with Olivia and held her as close as she could from behind. Instead of strawberry shampoo and bubble bath, she smelled the remnants of Olivia’s cologne and some Dove men’s lotion.

“Mom, are you sniffing me?” Olivia asked, half asleep.

“You don’t smell like my baby anymore, but this scent is still comforting,” Serena said as she nuzzled into the back of Olivia’s neck. 

“Mom, I’m eighteen now. This is weird.”

“Olivia Margaret!” Serena raised her voice. “Do you know how long I was in labor with you?”

Olivia turned around to face her. “You see, I asked Grandma about that and she said you actually weren’t in labor that long and once the drugs kicked in, you were practically numb from the neck down. You can’t use that on me anymore. Charlie was the difficult labor. Why don’t you use that on her instead?”

“She’s only four,” Serena chuckled. “There’s no fun in guilt-tripping a four-year-old. She already believes everything I say. Your sister is in that innocent phase of life where she believes in Santa and the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. Give it five years. I’ll start guilt-tripping her then.”

“That’s some A+ parenting, Mom,” Olivia said jokingly. “Why do I feel like Charlie and I will be explaining all of this to a therapist someday?”

“Because you will, Olliegator. Just like I did and my mother and grandmother did before me. Face it, baby. Crazy runs in the family. That and alcoholism.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Olivia rolled her eyes. “And, Mom, you’re still cuddling me.”

Serena held her even tighter. “It’s your last night at home. Either I cuddle you now or I walk into your dorm room when your roommate is there and say ‘Where’s my Olliegator? Where’s my kisses?’ in a really annoying tone of voice.”

“I’d like to think you were bluffing, but I know you’d do it, so I’ll just let you cuddle me.”

For a few moments, Serena was able to bask in the feeling of holding Olivia one last time before she moved. Finding out Olivia had gotten a softball scholarship was one of the proudest moments of Serena’s life until she realized it meant her baby would have to move to LA. Her parents lived in Beverly HIlls and her sister lived in Santa Monica, neither of which were far from Olivia’s school, but even if she knew they’d watch out for her, nothing would ever compare to her knowing Olivia was safe in her bedroom down the hall.

“I’m worried about you living on your own. Grandma and Grandpa live two miles from your school, why don’t you just live with them? At least I know you’d be safe. What if your roommate is some crazy person?”

Olivia scoffed. “As opposed to the crazy woman I live with now?”

“Smartass.” Serena playfully pinched her.

“Ow!” Olivia rubbed her arm. “For a tiny woman, you’re really strong.”

“Strong enough to lock you in this room so you can’t leave me?”

“Mom!” Olivia groaned.

“I’ve had eighteen years to prepare for this and I’m still not ready,” Serena admitted. “I know you’re an adult now and you’ve worked so hard to get where you are, but I don’t want you to leave home.”

Now it was Olivia’s turn to hold her close and she couldn’t help sobbing into her daughter’s shoulder. “Mom, I know this is hard, but everything is going to be okay. Remember when I had that really bad nightmare and I called you the bravest mom in the world? I still think that’s true. Everything I’ve accomplished is because of you and how brave you are. What you went through when I was conceived. Dealing with that trauma plus preparing to have a baby when you were only 21. You graduated from college and then went on to get your PhD all while being a single mom. For the first twelve years of my life, it was just the two of us and I still don’t know how you managed to do it all. You’ve taken care of all of us; let us take care of you now.”

“I love you, Olliegator.”

“I love you, too, Mom,” Olivia said as she placed a kiss on her cheek. “And, yes, I’m leaving home but I’m never leaving you.” 

Flying to LA was like flying home for Serena. Her mother picked them up from LAX and they stopped at a store to shop for bedding and a few things to get Olivia through the first day in her dorm.

“Tomorrow, we’ll go shopping for some decorations and some other things to make the place feel like home, okay, Ollie?” Olivia’s grandma told her.

On the drive to Olivia’s school, they passed by all of Serena’s favorite places to visit as a child. The little bakery where Olivia had her first ice cream sandwich was just a couple of blocks away from the campus and, when they drove by it, Serena had to swallow hard so as not to cry. 

“Mom, can we get an ice cream sandwich sometime before you fly back to New York?” Olivia asked, which made Serena feel like she was gonna cry all over again.

“Yes, of course, Olliegator. We can go anywhere you want.”

There were three generations of Benson women in Olivia’s dorm room; Serena and Mrs. Benson took to making her bed and organizing her desk while Olivia unpacked her clothes and hung them up in the closet. They were there for two hours, mostly stalling for time until they could no longer put off the inevitable. There was another fifteen minutes of goodbye hugs and kisses on the cheek with Serena trying her hardest not to let Olivia see her cry.

“I’m still gonna see you tomorrow before you fly back, right?” Olivia asked her with that same pleading look she had as a child.

“Just call me whenever you’re ready.”

“And you’ll be back next month for Parents Weekend?”

My baby already misses me. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything and I know your sister is gonna put on the hoodie you bought for her as soon as I get back and ask if it’s time to go to your school,” Serena said as she held her close. “If you ever feel lonely, your grandparents are just a couple of miles away and your aunt Lexie is in Santa Monica and you can always call me. I don’t care what time it is, Ollie. Just call me whenever you need me.”

When they were outside, Serena couldn’t help turning around to look at the building her daughter would call home for the next nine months. It was so full of life and Serena knew her daughter was going to have a good time and make a lot of friends, but this building wasn’t their house and Serena wanted nothing more than to get Olivia and take her back to New York. I can’t do that to her. She worked so hard to get here and I owe it to her to let her be happy.

Yes, I know don't possess you

With all my heart, God bless you

You are still my love and my life

“It’s okay to cry, Ser Bear,” Mrs. Benson said as she hugged her. “I know I did. What you’re feeling right now, I felt 22 years ago when I dropped you off at Columbia. I kept asking myself why couldn’t you just go to UCLA or USC or, hell, I’d have settled for somewhere in northern California, but you worked for years to get into Columbia and you were so excited. I know I broke your heart so many times when you were growing up. I didn’t want to add that to the list and letting you go ended up being the best thing for you. Look at the woman you’ve become. You’re excelling in your career, you’re a wonderful mom, and you met and married Miss Tall, Dark, and Handsome.”

Feeling the comfort of her mother’s arms made Serena unable to stop her tears from flowing. “What if she never comes back?”

“No matter how old she gets, she’s always gonna need you,” Mrs. Benson said as she dried her daughter’s tears. “Kids always come back, baby, even if it’s just for a while. You just have to let them know there’s always a road that’ll lead them back home again.”

[redhawtriot]

Problem Child (MHA Headcannons)

I work a lot with kids and teens and was literally a teenager a few months ago myself lol, so I know just how much of little shits they can be.

I always see such cute stories and headcanons with fathers and their sweet adorable children/babies, but what happens when they get older and less… adorable?

Well…

HnM💕

undefined

💥Bakugou: 

Bakugou’s teenage daughter is probably his carbon copy. The proud attitude and sassy wit would be praised and held on an adorable pedestal when she was a little girl, but when she becomes a teenager, it is not nearly as cute.

“What the hell!? Get out of my room, dad!” She would scream at her father as he barged in her room, “It’s like you never learned how to knock!”  

He would instantly get triggered by her loud mouth, “It’s my damn house. I can go wherever I want, whenever I want!” he would scream before something shiny on the corner of her nightstand caught his attention, “What’s that.”

His daughter would immediately scramble to conceal the golden package, “None of your business,” she tucks it in her drawer.

“No! What the fuck was that?!” He has a slight idea of what it might be but he prays to god that he is wrong as he storms over to her dresser and rips it open.

“Dad!” his fifteen year old daughter shrieks as she feebly attempts to slam the drawer back shut-- not caring at all about Bakugou’s fingers, “The fuck’s your problem?!”

Bakugou’s rigid arms would hold the drawer open as his eyes blankly stare at the horror scene in front of him, “W-what are you doing with condoms?!” His eyes are wide. 

“Fucking figure it out! God!” His not-so-little girl finally slams the drawer back shut, effectively snapping him out of his daze.

He rips his furious eyes toward her direction, “YOU ARE NEVER LEAVING THIS HOUSE AGAIN, YOU HEAR ME?! GET USED TO THESE WALLS BECAUSE THEY ARE THE ONLY THING YOU’LL SEE FROM NOW ON!”

“The fuck I am!”

His significant other would have to spend the next few hours talking him down from killing every single boy his daughter had ever come into contact with.

He wouldn't be able to look his daughter in the eyes for the following days, but sooner or later he got over his anger and even eventually talked to her about more effective forms of birth control. (God was that a spectacle)

Todoroki: 

Probably going to be a super passive parent, especially with his teens. He doesn't want to be overbearing and controlling like his father was.

His teens might learn to take advantage of this. I could see his kids going to him if the other parent says no to something. This would probably lead to a lot of confusion within the Todoroki household. Lol

He isn't a complete idiot though, he would get wiser to his teenager’s antics and eventually put his foot down.

Or... at least attempt too.

He would probably be a huge softy for his kids and end up giving in to them regardless. 

Izuku: 

He would for sure be a helicopter parent. It would be touching and adorable for him to cry when his son leaves for his first day of Elementary school, but it would be less cute when he is a whole ass teenager and he still wants to drop by his middle school to “check in on him.”

“Dude… is that your dad. Again?” one of his son’s classmates would point out to him as he gawked at the hoard of paparazzi in school’s front entrance. 

“Please, god no,” Izuku’s son would cower into his arms at his desk.

However, he knew that he would have to confront his father sooner or later, “Dad! What are you doing here?”

“You left your applesauce on the kitchen counter this morning, I just thought I‘d stop by and bring it to you while I was on patrol today, son.”

Fucking applesauce!?!

The younger Midoriya would have to fight the urge to face-palm, opting for a heavy sigh instead, “I’m not five years old! I don’t need my dad to drop off snacks for me!”

The sudden outburst would slightly wound the fragile father, “Y-you’re right…” Izuku would immediately understand the new boundary and respect it, “Sorry son, I-I’ll just go then,” he would still hand the sauce over to his son.

As he turns to leave his son would feel a pulse of guilt, “Wait… Thank you… Just stop breathing down my neck so much, okay?”

“Alright!” The apology would fill the father would a sense of vigor. He would turn back around to leave on a much happier not until--

“Oh, wait!” Izuku almost forgot something! “I LOVE YOU, SON!” he shouts from across the courtyard. 

Giggles from the other kids could be heard as his son ducks shamefully into himself, “L-love you too…dad...” the boy’s face falls into a deep shade of red as people stare at him. 

Shinsou:

He would never mind control his children, but he would be lying if he said that it wasn’t tempting every now and then.

He would probably be the type of person that prefers smaller children to teenagers for some reason. As the feeling of being needed diminishes and his children grow more and more independent, he would begin feeling a little left out of their everyday lives.

He would for sure be the type of person that tries to hang onto his children's childhoods for as long as he can. The first time that his kids go out “without” parental supervision to like the mall or movies, or something, he would secretly tag along. 

He would leave after he felt comfortable enough.

Holy shit! If he got caught though? 

His kids would probably never let him hear the end of it. I feel like he would be very embarrassed because everyone would would be able to see that he did it for him and not for his kids lol.

“Awh, dad you just want us to stay little forever, don’t you?”

“I was just trying to make sure that you guys would be okay,” he would immediately retort, as if the speed of his response could cover his obvious lying. 

“Apparently we weren't the ones needing to be checked up on! You okay?”

He really wasn’t okay.

Why do kids have to grow up so fast?!

Kirishima: 

Will be very straight up and direct with his children. He will always tell them when they are not being their best selves.

Even though he is probably the most supportive guy in the world, his son will still probably hide things from him because his overwhelming positivity and wish to better himself and others can be.. well... a bit much. 

“LET”S GO GET SOME REPS IN!” Kiri would burst into his 16 year old son’s room, but finds that he is on the phone with someone, “Who’s that on the phone?”

The boy would immediately hang up the phone and stare wide-eyes at his father, “Uhhh... grandma?” he obviously lies. 

“Huh. But your grandma is in a different time zone... it’s 3 am for her...” Kirishima would bait his son to tell the truth. 

Knowing that he had been caught and that there was no backing out, he would reluctantly tell the truth, “It’s... my boyfriend.”

“BOYFRIEND?! Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone, son?? Have em over tonight! I’d love to meet him! I bet he’s great! Does your mother know?! I’ll call her as soon as I can and let her know the great news--”

“No, no, no! Stop!” the young boy would frantically interrupt, “Uh, Thanks... but h-he’s not coming over, could you... get out of my room please?”

Kirishima would turn a little red at the realization that he had gone a little off of the deep end, “Oh... okay... Sorry for that,” he would nervously laugh as he backed out of the room, “I guess I did get a little ahead of myself, huh?”

“Yeah...” His son would purse his lips as the two made awkward, prolonged, eye contact. 

“Okay.... Well, you want the door open or shut?”

“Shut would be fine,”

“Alright,” Kiri would begin shutting the door only to stick his head on one more time,“Love ya.” he would softly speak into the room. 

“Bye...” as soon as the door is shut his son flops tiredly onto his bed.

Kaminari:

He would always be a teenage boy at heart so him and his kids would actually get a long very well—maybe too well.

He would catch his children trying to sneak out of the house and set up little boobie traps for them outside of the window they sneak out of. He would never tell his s/o about them sneaking out because, hey, if they avoided his boobie traps, they probably deserved it!

When his kids were caught they usually wouldn’t even want to go out anymore as they were typically covered in syrup, or blasted with paint-balls, or soaking wet with tomato sauce or some other random thing.

Every now and then, when his kids would successfully pass a boobie trap, however, he would up his game.

This leads to the game always evolving.

His kids respect the hell out of him, because they love him so much, but this little game they have going with him is too fun to give up!

Iida: 

He had always been told that he was a bit overbearing, and would wanna correct that about himself before he had children.

Iida would be the type of father that would read up on parenting magazines, so he wouldn’t be too authoritarian and would like for his kids to make the right decisions on their own… but damn was it hard for him to just sit back and watch.

He would be walking by, when the sight of his daughter relaxing on the living room on her phone would catch his attention. She has a series of textbooks sprawled out in front of her, but is paying them no mind. “Sweetheart? Shouldn’t you be studying right now?”

“Yeah, probably. I’ll get on it in a minute…” she would absentmindedly reply as her eyes stayed glued onto her phone. 

“Okay…” he would reply as he continued doing whatever it was he was doing before he got distracted; however when he passed by the living room again, he noticed that his daughter was still in the same position that he had left her in,  “Ahem!”

The young girl knew well what this meant as she looked up to acknowledge Iida, “Yes, father?”

“There’s no time like the present, you know,” he reminded her. 

“Thanks… I’ll remember that,” even though she knew exactly what he had been trying to imply, she looked back to her phone in a small bout of rebellion. 

This would be the last straw for Iida, “I know that you are a fine student and all; however, I just think that you should—”

“FINE,” she would loudly sigh as she throws her phone to away to the couch, I’ll do my homework right now!”

“That’s my girl!”

“Of course,” she would smile back with just a hint of resentment. 

[jokertrap-ran]

(未定事件簿) 莫弈 SR [松雪童话] [Tears of Themis] Mo Yi SR [Snowy Pine Fairytales] Card Story Translations (Part 2)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mo Yi’s Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Check out Chapter 1 of Mo Yi’s Private Story here!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / SMS

Demon King: Squeak—

As if answering my doubts, Demon King slowly relaxed again. It even slowly reached its forelimbs out to tentatively touch Mo Yi's fingers.

MC: (Oh… It looks like it really isn't as terrified anymore.)

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

He slowly moved his arm closer to being Demon King closer to him.

Maybe it felt appeased, for its bushy tail started swaying back and forth, as if to express how close it felt to him.

MC: Just like back when I first saw it, Demon King really seems to have taken a liking to you, Dr. Mo.

Mo Yi: Yes. Judging by how it's behaving, it looks like it trusts me quite a bit.

Mo Yi warmly returned the small creature’s gaze, the warmth within his golden eyes akin to the warm rays of the winter sun.

It wasn’t piercing, but warm, and comfortable. The sort of warmth that made me sincerely feel at ease from the bottom of my heart.

MC: (Maybe… Maybe this is why Demon King’s willing to get closer to Dr. Mo.)

Now, both the silver-coated woods and Mo Yi’s own silvery hair reflected a plethora of wonderful colors as the sun’s rays fell upon them. Adding onto the scene was the cute Demon King, forming a picturesque scene full of warmth that made people unwilling to disrupt it.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Demon King gradually got used to its surroundings. It looked at Mo Yi, before turning towards me, who stood beside him.

MC: Now that we’ve found him, we should hurry and bring him back. I’m sure the little guy’s anxiously waiting for its return.

Mo Yi: Yes.

Mo Yi gently gestured to Demon King to enter the pocket of his coat; it cocked its head, as if pondering. Following that, it followed the path down the sleeve of his shirt, eventually jumping snugly into his coat pocket.

Only a furry little head could be seen peeking out from his pocket, alertly surveying its surroundings.

MC: How wonderous… It looks like it understands you...

MC: Unless... Are you also capable of reading the minds of little animals?

Mo Yi laughed, but made no comment.

Mo Yi: It’s nothing all that strange. I think that it has just gotten used to listening to people since it's been living together with humans for so long.

MC: You do have a point there.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

And that was how we brought Demon King back to Snowy Pine Village. It had stayed quietly inside Mo Yi's pocket the entire trip back, never once making another attempt to escape.

It was already getting late by the time we returned to the village.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Location: Snowy Pine Village

The boy had long since been waiting for us at the village entrance, exclaiming in joy the moment he saw us.

Little Boy: Yay! You've brought Demon King back!

We had only just stopped in front of him when Demon King leapt onto his hand, affectionately pawing at his face.

Mo Yi took out the whistle and returned it to the boy, who carefully tucked it away.

Little Boy: I just knew that it'd come back as long as you blew that whistle! This is mom's whistle; it really likes mom.

Mo Yi: Keep a close eye on it and don't let it run off again.

Demon King: Squeak squeak sque-squeak!

Little Boy: Demon King says thank you!

The boy didn't sound as guarded as before anymore, and his expression had also softened a tad.

MC: You're welcome, Demon King.

MC: But can you really communicate with it, little buddy?

Little Boy: Yeah! Demon King knows lots of super spells, so of course it understands what I say!

Spells? I immediately asked him the question that had been festering at the bottom of my heart.

MC: About that, could you tell me why you named it Demon King? There must be some special meaning to that, right?

Little Boy: Because Demon Kings are great! The Demon Kings in fairy tales always know everything and they even have spells that can control time!

Little Boy: As long as I have Demon King's spells, mom and dad can come back!

MC: …...

So Demon King's name simply originated from his own innocent fantasies; but I never thought… That it actually had some sort of special meaning.

Speaking of which, I haven't seen this child's parents at all up, and even his guardian never made an appearance up till now. Maybe it's really just like I deduced earlier...

I was just mulling over the thought when I suddenly caught sight of an old grandmother with a walking stick coming towards us from the village.

Grandmother: Little Meng, have you found Demon King yet?

His grandmother had a full head of grey hair and appeared to have some difficulty walking despite being supported by a walking stick.

The boy hurriedly dashed towards her to provide support.

Little Boy: I found him. You're not fit to be out here, Gran. Why did you come back outside?

Grandmother: You didn't come home after such a long time and I was getting worried about you, so I came out to have a look.

As she spoke, she Mo Yi and I standing to the side.

Grandmother: Did you guys help him find Demon King?

Mo Yi: Indeed. It only took little effort.

His grandmother looked kindly at us for a while before waving towards the boy.

Grandmother: Alright, you go off and play first. I want to talk to this brother and sister for a bit.

Little Boy: 'Kay! I'll go bring Demon King home first.

Watching the little boy leave with his squirrel in tow, his grandmother turned to us with an apologetic smile.

Grandmother: Sorry, little Meng must have caused you guys much trouble.

MC: I see, so he's called little Meng?

Grandmother: Yes, little Meng is just the nickname that his mother gave him; he's my grandson.

Grandmother: How do I address the both of you?

MC: I'm (Y/n), and he's Mo Yi. We're here to celebrate Christmas.

Mo Yi: Sorry for not formally giving you an introduction earlier; that was rather rude of me.

Grandmother: You are too humble.

Grandmother: Haa, it's not often that people come by these parts, and young people like you are an even rarer occurrence.

Grandmother: Both of his parents aren't here together with him, you see. So, it's only us, a grandma and her grandchild, living together like this… Thankfully, he still has a squirrel to help ease some of his boredom.

MC: ……

She sighed, speaking to us solemnly.

Grandmother: Young lad and miss, I have something to ask of you, but I don't know if you'll agree to it.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆  

Location: Snowy Pine Village

Grandmother: Young lad and miss, I have something to ask of you, but I don't know if you'll agree to it.

Mo Yi: Your tone has taken a serious turn. I take it that whatever you're going to tell us now has something to do with little Meng?

Mo Yi: Go on. We'll definitely help you out if it's something within our ability to.

Hearing this, little Meng's grandmother looked at Mo Yi in surprise, but was also thankful that he was willing to lend an ear.

Grandmother: Alright then, I'll get straight to the point. It's going to be Christmas very soon, so… Could the both of you celebrate this festival with him?

Grandmother: Like setting up a tree or something or decorating the house with him…

Grandmother: I'm not too familiar with these foreign practices and there are very few youngsters in this village, so he's literally unable to find any playmates.

Grandmother: Oh, you can just celebrate the occasion at my place. There's no one else other than me and that child.

MC: Of course, we can do it! We originally came here to celebrate Christmas anyway!

Grandmother: I'm really thankful to the both of you… His parents would celebrate it with him in the past, but they're no longer here together with him anymore… Haa...

MC: About that... Sorry, but could I ask where his parents went off to?

Mo Yi: Please be assured, we only want to understand little Meng a little better in order to celebrate this festival with him.

Grandmother: Of course, it'd actually not anything worth hiding.

Grandmother: We're a small village and we can't plant anything when it's snowing during winter, so our economic situation hasn't been very good.

Grandmother: The youngsters of this village went out of town to work, so that they could earn a living. His parents were the same.

Grandmother: A few years ago, his parents were still not that busy and could afford to come home for the New Years. It was also then that his mother brought Demon King back.

Grandmother: His mother told him that the squirrel was his "Christmas present", and even made a small red ribbon for it.

Grandmother: The three if them lugged a huge tree back from the forest and hung colorful little things on it. It was shiny and pretty nice-looking.

Grandmother: Foreign festivals like this are much more popular in the city, and that was also when I first learnt about this "Christmas" that they spoke of… Haa...

Grandmother: Not to mention that he was beyond happy. This child, he'd always be so elated whenever his parents came home that he'd giddily go along with whatever without so much as a peep... 

MC: I see, no wonder he...

His grandmother continued speaking, sighing, and shaking her head again as she did.

Grandmother: But his parents have only been getting increasingly busier with their work these past two years. So much that we now saw neither hide nor hair of them, and phone calls only come once in a blue moon…

Grandmother: At the beginning, he'd always pester me, asking me when his parents would return. I'd always tell him soon, but even he stopped believing me after the nth time.

Grandmother: Eventually, he started talking to the squirrel and would disappear along with it in tow time and time again. He even gave it such a weird name according to a book.

Grandmother: Haa… This kid was so cute back then that it's laughable, but now, he doesn't care about anyone but that squirrel of his.

Grandmother: But we can't blame his parents for this either. I mean, who would be willing to work all day every day outside like that? If it wasn't for me and this child...

She had only spoken halfway before breaking out into a fit of violent coughs.

I hurriedly reached forwards to gently pat her on the back. It was only after a while that her coughing fit calmed.

MC: Are you alright!?

Grandmother: ...Cough, cough. I'm fine, it's just one of the woes of sickness that come with getting old, just that it gets worse as time goes on.

Grandmother: I'm afraid I can't celebrate this festival with him even if I wanted to…

She gradually lowered her voice, her eyes filled with an inconsolable sadness.

MC: ...Granny, you...

It was hard for me not to feel a little depressed at the thought of spending a lonely Christmas alone.

Noticing how I was acting unnaturally, Mo Yi gently patted my arm and walked up to the elderly woman.

Mo Yi: ...I understand. You wish for us to spend Christmas with him, to let him revisit the warmth he shared with his parents back then.

Mo Yi: All thought there is no way that we can compare to his actual parents themselves, I'm willing to give it a try for him.

Grandmother: Young lad, young miss; you're both really such kind Samaritans.

After having finished speaking, his grandmother moved to give a shaky bow whilst trembling at the effort. Mo Yi hurriedly went to support her back up.

Mo Yi: Don't worry about it, we're only doing what we can to help.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆  

Location: Country Villa

That day, we had another long talk with his grandmother. The sky was almost completely dark by the time we returned to the Villa.

I stood in front of the window and gazed out at the quiet snowy night in this mountainous village, yet my heart refused to settle no matter how long I stood.

MC: ...I'm sure little Meng is sad, deep down in his heart.

Mo Yi came up from behind, gently placing a blanket over my shoulders. Warmth flowed from my shoulders to the depths of my heart.

Mo Yi: The temperature by the window is lower; don't catch a cold.

MC: ... Thank you, Dr. Mo.

Mo Yi: Still thinking about little Meng?

MC: Yeah… Just like we've seen in the day, they aren't the only ones. This village is filled with lots of elderly and children who are dependent on each other…

I purposely made a point to observe how things were like in Snowy Pine Village ever since we left little Meng's house.

MC: From the looks of things, it really seems like this village is filled with those that have to be left behind.

Mo Yi: Yes; many of the villagers have left to work elsewhere, leaving parents who are getting on in age along with their children, which has caused this phenomenon of a left-behind village.

Mo Yi: Children who grow up with the lack of parental care will be more prone to mental problems, especially the younger ones.

Mo Yi: I will apply for care assistance once we return. I'll also make sure to write up a report about this and send it to the organizer of the Seminar.

Mo Yi: They are currently preparing for a "Plan to care for left-behind children", and I hope this village will be included in it.

MC: That's great then.

Mo Yi: But it'll still be a lot harder on the children since their parents are not with them.

MC: …...

MC: (Come to think of it, I haven't… Seen my parents in a long while too...)

Upon hearing little Meng's experiences in the day, I couldn't help but to imagine how my parents spent every festival together, alone, after I had left. Whether it be the beautiful memories of spending Christmas together with my parents, or whether it be the loneliness that came after from being alone; I had experienced them both.

I tried to hold it back earlier while we were still in front of little Meng's grandmother, so it didn't show; but now, I felt a little taken with my thoughts since the memories had surged back into the forefront of my mind.

Mo Yi: (Y/n), you seem to particularly understand little Meng very well. Did it remind you about your own parents?

I couldn't hide it myself anymore when faced by Mo Yi's eyes that overflowed with warmth.

MC: Nothing really escapes you, Dr. Mo… I don't even remember when I'd mentioned them around you.

Yes, perhaps it had been something that I had just happened to bring up one fine day; but yet, he had remembered it all so clearly.

He was quick to notice fluctuations in my mood, comforting me immediately, just like how he did in the day.

MC: Sorry for making you worry.

He gently held onto my hand, his low voice sounding crystal clear by my ear.

Mo Yi: Not at all. I simply pay more attention to the people and the things I keep close to heart.

Mo Yi: Emotions have to be let out. Not only will it be hard on you if you suppress it, but you might even fall sick from it.

Mo Yi: You don't have to put up facades around me. You can tell me; be it sadness or when you're feeling at a loss.

Mo Yi: There's no need to feel sorry or sheepish that you might be troubling me with it. I'm willing to listen to whatever you may share, regardless of what it may be.

MC: ……

Mo Yi: Alright. It's not early anymore so you should retire early for the day.

Mo Yi: I really look forward to decorating the Christmas Celebration venue; for little Meng, and also for you.

That night, I slept very soundly.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆  

Location: Country Fair

The next day, we went to the nearby fair, just as little Meng's grandmother had told us to, and bought a wide variety of things that included decorations and presents alike.

Looking at the dazzling array of small trinkets, I totally immersed myself in the festive atmosphere as I went on quite the shopping spree.

MC: We've bought everything we need! I think they'll definitely like them!

Mo Yi took the many bags of decorations that I held, big and small ones alike, and handed me a cup of hot drink.

Mo Yi: How about we pick out gifts for each other too, (Y/n)?

MC: Of course; I was just about to ask you what you liked!

Mo Yi: How about this then? We'll split up and go search for our gifts, then we'll keep it secret and take it out together only on Christmas Eve.

Mo Yi: Just think of it as something to surprise the other; how does that sound?

MC: Sure, sounds really interesting!

Mo Yi: You don't have to spend too much effort looking for a gift for me, so just choose anything that you like.

Mo Yi: It's the thought that counts; I'm sure I'll like anything you give me.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆  

I spent the next few days thinking about what present I should get him for Christmas, until the I saw a wood carving of a squirrel set out on an old craftsman's storefront.

A lightbulb lit up in my head and I asked the craftsman to customize a wood carving of a squirrel for me; one that wore Mo Yi's glasses on it.

With his expert craftsmanship skills, the squirrel that wore gold wire-framed glasses turned out looking utterly adorable and intelligent.

When I first saw the finished product, I just couldn't put it down as I stared at it in awe, already a little reluctant to give it away as a gift.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆  

Location: Country Villa

MC: It's really cute! I can't wait to see the look on Dr. Mo's face when he sees it.

MC: I wonder what present he prepared though...

───⋅𝕿𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊…⋆⋅☆

[ballerinaroy]

Hello love your work, would you be able to do a fic about Ron coming back from a particular brutal Auror mission and he's in shock almost (Think Thousand yard stare and hand trembling) Maybe Rose comes to greet her daddy and is surprised by his odd demeanor?

Omg thank you so much! This prompt about broke my heart so repaying the favor here. 

~~~

He’d only stayed on with the Aurors to keep himself sane. The few months he’d tried stepping away he’d pestered Harry into madness trying to stay up to date until the Head Auror himself had to stage an intervention.

“Either in our out Weasley,” Gawain said harshly. “I can’t risk my Aurors for your own peace of mind.”

So they’d come to a compromise. Not all the time. Sometimes not even months at all. Mostly fieldwork, keeping an ear low to the ground from the twin’s shop or sometimes asking someone out for a drink just to figure out what they knew. The part of the job he’d enjoyed.

Then of course there was Harry. The real benefit of his arrangement with the ministry was that he could still be there for his best mate. Completely. Gawain never asked him to go on a mission again but whenever Harry even whispered that Ron was needed he was always ready.

He’d do anything for Harry. Always had. Always would. Even the impossible.

It had been a bloodbath…no that wasn’t a strong enough word it had been….God. Days spent in hiding, blinded, bleeding, not knowing if he’d make it out not knowing if he’d been made, if Harry…if they knew…if Hermione and the kids were in danger…God he’d never forgive himself if Rose or Hugo…

“It’s okay,” Hermione whispered as she shook him awake the dozenth night in a row. “It’s okay, you’re home. It’s okay.”

He blinked at her, bolting up in the bed and wiping the blood from his chest frantically. He could hear himself grunting as he scrubbed at his skin it was turning raw it was…

“It’s just sweat,” Hermione whispered tugging at his hands. “Ron, breathe, come back.”

He looked down at his hands but they weren’t stained with red. Panting he looked up at her, a worried look on her face.

“It’s okay,” she whispered again, holding her hands out in an open position as she crawled out of the bed and over to him. “It’s okay, I’m here. We’re fine.”

He should have quit a long time ago.

~~~

The kids had been staying at Hermione’s parents ever since he’d been found. Their whole lives he’d gone away for days at a time. They thought it normal to be staying with relatives while their mother worked.  

Too young to understand what it meant for their father to be in the hospital

“Daddy!” Rose squealed, her voice an impossible pitch. “Daddy you’re home!”

“Rose,” Hermione hissed, grabbing their daughter’s shoulder before she could fling herself at him. “Remember what we talked about?”

Rose pouted but stayed back, smiling at her father. “Daddy, grandma took me to the art museum and out to tea and-“

Her voice quickened with excitement and the words became jumbled, a story about a painting, no a statue, no a big ball of-

Ron closed his eyes against the noise, words floating to him, pulling him back. Red. His ears began to ring. Red. A painting, no, red like the-

“Ron,” Hermione whispered and he opened his eyes. Rose was staring at him differently now, confusion littering her face.

“That’s nice,” he managed, but could not force his cheeks to arrange into a smile.

Rose looked up at Hermione, worried.

“Why don’t you go to your room Rose?” Hermione instructed their daughter, bending down and managing a teasing look. “I think I saw a special surprise on your bed.”

Rose’s face light up and she, distracted, ran from the room. Ron listened as her little feet echoed down the hallway and heard her excited gasp as she spotted the stuffed dragon on her bed. Her little squeal made him wince.

“Is it too much?” Hermione asked quietly. “Because my mum said she could take them both again and I can still get to school if I-“

“It’s fine,” Ron replied, standing up and walking out the door.

~~~

He hadn’t meant to stay out long but when at last his stomach grumbled with hunger he looked around to find the street lamps had already kicked on. He looked around, not entirely sure where he was, didn’t recognize the park, or the bench he’d been sitting on.

He’d left the house to get a breath of fresh air and then-Ron supposed he’d been walking for a while.

Disappointment sunk into him as he stood in the kitchen. Dinner already eaten and put away. Down the hall, he could hear the sounds of their nighttime routine taking place without him. Brushing teeth, using the toilet, and then quiet playtime or a story before bed.

Lately Rose had decided she was too old for someone else to read her a bedtime story and had begun arranging her stuffed animals to have an audience. Ron could remember all the times he had stood just outside her doorway, listening to her recant the stories they had told her.

He snuck towards the bedrooms, listening to Rose’s little voice, pausing in places as they did so Hermione might read a word to her.

“And then the- do you remember what this word is mummy?”

“Hmmm,” Hermione said, presenting to ponder. “B-e-a-r-s,” she read-out-loud. “Be-ar-s. Bears.”

“Oh, thanks you,” Rose said in a perfect imitation of her mother.

“And then the bears lived happily ever after.” Rose finished. “The end.”

“Oh, thank you for the story,” Hermione said and then the soft sound of her kissing Rose’s head. She gave an exaggerated yawn. “I think I’m all ready for bed myself.”

Ron listened as she stood, putting the book back on its place on the shelf and then back to Rose’s bed to tuck her in a final time.

“Mummy?” Rose asked quietly. “Is daddy okay?”

“He just went for a walk Rosie,” Hermione explained. “He’ll be back soon.”

“Oh,” Rose answered and Ron could picture perfectly her little frown. “He seemed sad.”

“Do you remember how we talked about daddy getting hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Well, when we get hurt it can take time to feel better. It’s like when we get sick. We time and quiet to make the bad feelings go away.” Hermione explained. “And we can help daddy by telling him we love him and keeping our voices down.”

“And he’ll feel better?” Rose asked in a sleepy voice.

“Yes, he’ll feel better,” Hermione said, “Now go to sleep. We’ve got to get up for school in the morning.”

He pictured her bending down to kiss her temple. “I love you.”

“Did I scare her?” Ron asked Hermione as she emerged. 

She shook her head, unsurprised to find him standing there. “No, she’s just worried about you. She’ll be okay.”

Ron blinked a couple of times, staring at the wall their daughter lay on the other side of. “Maybe I should go away, for a little bit. Let you and the kids-”

“Please, don’t say that,” Hermione said quickly and for the first time she looked terrified. “Please don’t even think it.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for all of you.”

“Then don’t suggest it again,” Hermione begged. “I need you, here.”

She reached for his hand and gave it a little squeeze though his fingers did not respond. “Please, Ron, I’m okay, Rose is okay. We’ll be okay so long as you stay here.”

          My ask box is open for prompts!

[myownsuperintendent]

Fic: “Through the Years”

Scully, Mulder, Emily, and William experience life as a family through the years. Family fluff. I moved Baby #3 up five-ish years to make it less ridiculous. Rated T for mild sexual content. Also here at Ao3.

.....

They come up the stairs to her apartment, Scully carrying the bags. “This is it,” she says. “This is…this’ll be home.” Emily doesn’t say anything; she’s been quiet since they got on the plane this morning. Scully tried talking to her, pointing to the clouds and the tiny houses below, telling her about the fun things they’d do once they got to Washington. Eventually she let her sleep. She knows this won’t be perfect, not all at once. But she can’t help it: she has so much hope.

“Do you want to go in?” she asks. “See your room?” Emily nods, after a moment, and Scully unlocks the door and goes in.

Emily’s room should be ready, even though Scully’s been staying out in California with her. They ordered furniture from a catalogue—she let Emily pick out her new bed and sheets—and they packed up the things from Emily’s old room and had them shipped. She wanted it to be here for Emily when they arrived. Mulder’s been a help to her with all of it; he came over to her place to supervise the delivery. “Everything accounted for,” he told her over the phone yesterday. “I didn’t even injure myself setting up the bed.”

She laughed. “Thank you,” she said. “Really, thank you so much for…for everything you’ve done.” She hasn’t said anything to him, but she is worried that this will change things between them; she knows she won’t be able to travel as much, for one thing, and so the way they work will have to be different. She worried he might resent that, but so far there aren’t any signs of it; he seems as excited about the new direction her life is taking as she does.

“It’s nothing, Scully,” he said. “Any way I can help. Let me know.”

“Thank you,” she repeated, softly, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

And when she opens the door to what used to be a spare room, a place for her to store extra books, it’s Emily’s bedroom: everything they picked out is there. The new sheets are on the new bed, Emily’s picture books and stuffed animals are on the shelves, and there’s a night light on the wall. “Here we are, sweetie,” she says. “What do you think?”

Emily goes over to the bed. “What’s that?” she asks.

Scully looks; there’s a teddy bear sitting in the center of the bed, along with a little book. A card is propped against the bear. “Looks like it might be a present for you,” she says. “Should we read the card?” Emily nods, and Scully opens it. “Dear Emily,” she reads. “I hope you like your new room. Since I missed your birthday and Christmas this year, I wanted to give you some belated presents. Maybe I’ll see you soon. Mulder.”

Emily’s already holding the bear. “What’s belated?”

“It means late,” Scully explains. “Since it’s after your birthday and Christmas.” He didn’t have to get Emily presents at all, of course. He didn’t have to, but he did.

“Can we read the book?” Emily asks.

“Sure we can,” Scully says. She takes a seat on the bed, and Emily leans against her; she’s shy sometimes, but she seems to like this kind of proximity when Scully is reading to her. They do that a lot, because sometimes it’s the simplest way for them to be together: one that doesn’t bring up any troubles or uncertainties. The book Mulder gave Emily is called The Little Fur Family, and it has a fuzzy cover, which Emily touches gently while Scully reads.

When the book is finished, Scully shows Emily the rest of the apartment; Emily follows her, still not saying much. She carries the bear under her arm. “His name is Buttons,” she says, while they’re eating supper (Scully really needs to get groceries, after a month and a half spent in California, but luckily she found a box of macaroni and cheese in the cabinet).

“That’s a good name,” Scully says. “Would you like to call Mulder after we eat? I want to tell him we’re back, and you could tell him that you named Buttons.”

“Okay,” Emily says.

Mulder answers quickly when she calls. “Hey, Scully,” he says. “You home?”

“We’re home,” she confirms, looking down at Emily, who is sitting next to her on the couch. “Thank you for setting up the room. It looks wonderful.”

“Really, it was no trouble,” he says. “Glad to do it. Did Emily see her presents?”

“She did,” Scully says. “She has something she wants to say to you.” She hands Emily the phone.

“Hi,” Emily says, her voice coming out whispery. “Thank you…The bear’s name is Buttons.” She seems to have run out to things to say now; she looks up at Scully questioningly, and Scully takes back the phone.

“She really likes them,” she says. “Thank you so much, Mulder. You really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he says. “She deserves them.”

Scully smiles. “Well, thank you. I want to…I think we’ll take the next couple of days to settle in, the two of us. But after that…we’ll see you soon?”

“Of course,” he says, and she’s happy, when she hangs up the phone.

Emily wants to read The Little Fur Family again before bed, and Scully reads it to her before tucking her in, pulling the new comforter gently up under her chin. “Sleep well,” she says. “You remember where my room is?” Emily nods, sleepily. “Well, I’ll be right in there if you need me. I’ll leave the door open.” Emily nods again. “Good night, Emily. I love you.” She hugs her daughter tightly. She still can’t believe it all.

“Good night, Dana,” Emily says, in her soft voice, and Scully kisses her cheek and turns out the light.

It takes her a while to settle down—aside from the events of the day, her body’s still on California time—but she’s asleep herself when she hears Emily’s voice, suddenly. She sits up, trying not to panic, and turns on the light next to her bed; Emily’s standing next to it, crying. “Dana,” she says, “I had a bad dream.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Scully says, jumping out of bed, stooping down next to Emily, putting her arms around her. “It’s all right now. I’m right here. I’m right here.”

“My mommy…” Emily sobs, in the most heartbreaking voice Scully has ever heard.

“I know, sweetheart,” she says. “I know it makes you sad.”

She walks Emily back to bed, tucking her in again, drying her tears and stroking her hair. “I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep again,” she says. “How does that sound?”

“Okay,” Emily says, still with a choke in her voice.

“I’m right here,” she says again. “And I love you so much.”

She lies down next to Emily, although there isn’t much space on the little bed. She strokes her hair back and forth, humming a lullaby off-key. She isn’t sure when Emily falls asleep. At some point she falls asleep too.

.....

Scully’s mom called to say that she’ll be late—there’s a lot of traffic—so the three of them are waiting in the living room now. Emily’s huddled into a corner of the couch. “Where are you going?” she asks, not for the first time this afternoon.

“To dinner, sweetie,” Scully says. “But you’ll have lots of fun with Grandma. And we’ll be back later.” Mulder nods.

“Why can’t I come?” Emily asks.

Scully isn’t sure what to tell her. She kissed Mulder for the first time a month and a half ago—on this very couch, while Emily was sleeping down the hall, after the three of them had spent the day together—and since then the two of them have been, well, dating she guesses is the word for it, although it feels a little simplistic considering the history of their relationship. So far it’s going well. More than well. But she hasn’t wanted to tell Emily yet, just in case. She knows it’s not a good idea to introduce things like this into kids’ lives too quickly. And that’s even in cases where those children haven’t already gone through a lot of upheaval.

So she just says, “Mulder and I are going to spend a little time just the two of us. Because we’re friends and—”

“Mulder’s my friend too,” Emily says. “Aren’t you?” she adds, quickly, glancing up at him.

“Of course I am, Em,” he says. “What I think your mom is saying—”

“Why don’t you stay here anymore, then?” Emily asks. “Why don’t we all play together? We used to, and now…now we don’t!” And she bursts into tears then, her face pressed against the cushion. “Why doesn’t Mulder stay?” she asks again, sobbing.

Scully scoops her up, feeling horrible. Emily has a point: it used to always be the three of them, whenever Mulder came over, and now it isn’t, not always. She’d thought they were still spending plenty of time together aside from their dates, but apparently it isn’t enough for Emily. She’d thought she was protecting Emily from change; instead, she’s just made it worse.

“Oh, Emily,” she says. “I’m so sorry. Don’t cry, sweetie.”

“We didn’t mean to make you sad, Em,” Mulder adds, hovering over them, looking as upset as she feels.

“Why…do you…eat dinner…without…me?” Emily asks, in between sobs.

Scully makes a snap parenting the decision, the kind she’s had to make a lot of since last year and doesn’t feel used to yet. But she’s hoping the truth will be less painful for Emily. “Emily, Mulder and I…we’ve been going on dates. Do you know what that means?”

“No,” Emily says.

Scully tries to think of an explanation that will be within Emily’s frame of reference. She’s seen a number of Disney movies, which have probably been her biggest exposure to romance, but they tend to go for the love at first sight angle. But she can’t think of anything better, not quickly enough, anyway, with Emily still crying in her lap. “You know in Beauty and the Beast,” she says, “when they eat breakfast together and they play in the snow? And then they dance?” From the way Mulder is looking at her, she guesses she sounds insane.

But Emily latches on to the explanation. “Oh,” she says. “So it’s like falling in love?”

“Well…” Scully begins. She hasn’t used that word yet, with Mulder. She’s thought about it, but she hasn’t said it out loud.

Emily hasn’t stopped talking, though. She turns to Mulder now. “Do you love Mommy?”

Scully’s breath catches. But before she can say anything, tell Emily that she shouldn’t ask that, Mulder speaks. “I do.”

“Oh. That’s good,” Emily says, although Scully’s only dimly aware of it. “But why does that mean we can’t have dinner together?” She wipes her eyes.

“We…we can,” Scully manages. “We just…we didn’t tell you everything before, because we thought it would be a surprise for you.”

Emily looks at her, her head tipped to one size. “No,” she says, finally. “Not a surprise.” Scully is beginning to get a little annoyed with this kind of reaction. Her mom (“Well, it’s about time, dear”) was one thing, and Skinner’s knowing look when he bumped into them holding hands last weekend was another. But to have her four-year-old daughter tell her that it’s not a surprise…At least Emily looks happier now, though, and Scully gives her a hug.

“How about we stay home tonight, after all?” she says. “And when Grandma gets here, we can all have dinner together.” She gives Mulder a half-apologetic look, but he doesn’t seem upset at all. And looking at him makes her think of what he just said. He loves me, she thinks. She has to tell him; she can’t let him think it’s all on one side. But there’s Emily sitting right in between them.

She gets her chance soon enough, though. Her mom arrives, and Emily wants to show her the drawings she did in preschool that day, and Mulder offers to help Scully make dinner. He follows her into the kitchen, standing close to her as she takes vegetables out of the refrigerator and pasta out of the cabinet. “I didn’t plan to tell you like that,” he says. His voice is soft, almost self-conscious.

She turns and smiles at him. “I’m not complaining. Maybe Emily knows how to run this thing better than we do.” She steps up, takes his hand. “I love you too,” she says, the words coming out in a breath.

“Yeah?” he says.

“Yeah,” she says. “Really.” His smile makes her feel warm. And she stretches up and kisses him, fairly chastely since her mom and Emily are right there, but hoping he’ll get the intention behind it. From the way he holds her, his arms tightly around her waist, she thinks he does.

Emily comes running into the kitchen then. “What are we having?” she asks.

“Spaghetti and vegetables,” Scully tells her.

“You want to help me and your mom?” Mulder asks. He hoists her up into the air, and she shrieks with joy. Scully knows how she feels.

.....

Mulder hears the door creak open, and Emily bounds in, landing on the foot of the bed. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Emily,” Scully says. “Remember that talk we had? About knocking?” They’re both fully clothed, because they know she’ll forget, but they’re hoping the message will sink in one of these days.

“Sorry,” Emily says. “I did remember. But I was just excited for today.”

“So’re we,” Mulder says. He ruffles her hair as she slides up to lie between them.

“What time are we going?” she asks.

“Our appointment’s at eleven,” Scully says. “So we have three hours.”

“That’s so long,” Emily says, pouting. “Three whole hours?”

“It’ll go faster than you think,” Mulder says, even though he secretly agrees. “Should we get up and have breakfast?”

Making breakfast distracts Emily a little, although he can tell that she’s still excited; she bounces up and down and pours extra maple syrup onto the pancakes. Scully catches his eye and smiles, and he smiles back at her. Emily’s right. It’s a momentous day.

They’re out of the house at last, in the car, driving to the courthouse. They’ve all dressed nicely; he’s wearing a suit, and Emily is wearing the blue dress they got her for the wedding. She’s still smiling, although Mulder’s a little nervous, and he thinks Scully is too. He doesn’t know why they should be—they were told that this second hearing was largely a formality—but maybe because it means so much. They each take one of Emily’s hands as they walk into the courthouse, and she looks up at them. Her face is serious now; maybe she’s caught the mood.

But everything goes as it should, as they’ve been told it would. They leave the courthouse with a copy of the adoption certificate: his name is on it, listed as Emily’s father. She’s already been calling him her dad since he and Scully got married, but it means something that now it’s official. They all feel it. He stoops to hug Emily before they get back in the car, kissing the top of her head.

They go out for lunch afterwards, and they get ice cream too; that’s part of his job as Emily’s dad, he thinks, buying her ice cream. She sits by his side in the restaurant booth, scraping the bowl with her spoon, and leans against his shoulder.

When the waitress brings the check, he says to her, “Would you mind taking a picture of the three of us?”

“Sure,” she says. “Not at all.”

They hang it on the refrigerator, the picture of him and Scully and Emily, all sitting together, all smiling. A family in print.

.....

William’s the most incredible thing Mulder’s ever seen—and he’s seen a lot of incredible things. He’s been alive for twelve hours now, and the novelty hasn’t worn off one bit in that time. He can’t take his eyes off his son, a tiny bundle in Scully’s arms.

“Hi there,” Scully says to William, who’s staring up at them both. His eyes are blue. “Do you know that we love you more than anything? Because we really, really do.”

“Your mom’s right,” Mulder says. William yawns, and he marvels. “He just…he’s amazing, Scully.”

“Isn’t he?” She looks exhausted and overjoyed.

Maggie stayed with Emily overnight, but they should be on their way to the hospital now. Mulder wonders how Emily’s going to take to her brother. A part of him can’t imagine anyone not adoring William, but he knows that Emily’s been anxious about not being the only child anymore. Especially during the last few months of Scully’s pregnancy, she clung to the two of them, wanting seemingly constant attention. “Will you love me as much as the baby?” she asked, only a few days ago, and even though they told her that of course they would, trying to reassure her with hugs and soothing words, she still looked unsure.

There’s a tap at the door to the hospital room. “May we come in?” Maggie’s voice.

“Yes, come on in!” Scully calls.

The door opens, revealing Maggie and Emily, who’s clinging tightly to a bunch of flowers. “Mommy! Daddy!” she says. “I missed you.”

“We missed you too, sweetie,” Scully says. Mulder takes William, and she holds out her arms. “Come here so I can give you a hug.”

“Gently,” Mulder adds, as Emily runs towards her mother. She stops for a minute and then slows her steps, giving Scully a careful hug.

“We brought you flowers,” she says, as if just remembering; the bouquet is a little crushed now from the hug, but Scully takes it anyway, smiling.

“They’re so beautiful,” she says. “Did you pick them out with Grandma?” Emily nods, and Scully kisses her cheek. “Well, thank you both so much.”

Emily’s looking up at William. “Is that him?” she asks.

“Yes,” Scully says. “That’s your brother. Do you know what his name is?”

“William,” Emily says. “Grandma told me. After she talked to Daddy on the phone.”

“That’s right,” Scully says. “Do you want to say hello to him?”

“Okay,” Emily says. They all crowd around; Mulder moves, carefully, to sit on the bed next to Scully and Emily, and Maggie comes by too, wanting to get a look at her grandson.

“This is William,” he says, softly. “William, this is your grandmother. And this is your big sister, Emily.”

“Oh, he’s so sweet!” Maggie exclaims. “Look at that face! I think he looks like you, Dana.”

“I think so too,” Mulder says.

Emily is staring. “He’s so little,” she says finally, in a soft, awed voice. “I didn’t know he’d be so little.”

“Well, he’s brand new,” Scully says. “Not even a whole day old. Do you want to say hi to him?”

“Hi,” Emily says. Her voice is still soft, almost a whisper and very, very gentle. “Hi, baby William. I’m Emily. You’re so, so little.” She looks up at them. “His hands are so little.”

“They are,” Mulder says. “If you touch his hand with your finger, he’ll grab it.”

Emily looks astonished. “Will he, really?”

“Try and see,” Mulder says.

Emily places her index finger gently against William’s hand, and his own fingers curl around it, gripping tightly. “Wow,” she says. “Wow.”

“Would you like to try holding him for a little bit?” Scully asks.

“Oh,” Emily says, “oh, could I?” There’s longing in her voice.

“Why don’t you sit in the chair,” Mulder says, “and I’ll bring him over to you?” Emily nods quickly, taking a seat in the chair next to the bed, and Mulder hands her William, carefully, supporting her arms with his own at first. “You have to keep one hand under his head,” he tells her. “Like this, see?” Emily nods seriously, mimicking what he’s doing. Even when he takes his arms away, he hovers near the chair. Emily’s right: William is so little, and so precious.

“I’m your big sister,” Emily is saying to William. “Your big sister. And I’m going to take care of you. Because you’re so little.”

So far, so good, Mulder thinks. She doesn’t seem like she’s upset about William being here. He looks at Scully, who’s watching Emily hold her brother with an incredible smile on her face. He bends over to kiss her cheek.

They go home from the hospital the next afternoon. They settle William into his crib, and then Mulder helps Scully get settled too, putting her things away for her, arranging her pillows until he’s sure that she’s comfortable. “Mulder,” she says. “You don’t have to do all of this.”

“You just had a baby, Scully,” he points out. “Two days ago, in fact. You know, I couldn’t do what you did.”

“Yeah,” Scully says, grinning. “I don’t think that’s physically possible.”

“You know what I mean,” he says. “You’re incredible. A force of nature. And you deserve to rest now. While William’s sleeping. You will rest, won’t you?”

“Yes,” she says. “I’ll rest. Since William’s sleeping, and all.” He can tell she’s tired from her voice, from the way she settles back on the bed. He leaves her to sleep then, thinking he’ll look in on William. He wants to make sure everything’s okay with him.

As he heads toward the nursery, he can hear Emily’s voice. Hoping she’s not waking William up, he opens the door carefully. William’s awake, but he’s not crying or fussing, just staring at his sister. She has her face pressed up against the bars of the crib, and she’s reading aloud. Mulder can see the book in her hands. The Little Fur Family.

“Em?” he says. “What are you doing, sweetie?”

She turns to look at him. “I’m just reading to him. To keep him company. He likes the book.”

Mulder smiles at her. “Can I sit with the two of you?”

“Yes,” Emily says, and Mulder takes a seat in the rocking chair, his eyes on his children. Emily finishes the book, closing the covers carefully. “I can read you another book later,” she says to William. “I have a lot of good ones.” He blinks at her, and she turns to Mulder. “Daddy?”

“Yes, Emily?”

“I really love him,” she says. “I think I’m going to love him forever.”

“Me too,” Mulder says. He stoops down and hugs her. “And I’m going to love you forever too.”

They sit quietly in the nursery, the three of them, until Scully comes in to join them.  She feeds William, then, while Mulder gets dinner together for the rest of them. He’s tired too—he can feel it, somewhere in the back of his mind—but right now he doesn’t care.

.....

It’s one of those days when William just keeps fussing and fussing. Emily usually likes to play with him, but not right now, not when he just cries whatever she does. Mommy says that he might be getting new teeth; she’s trying to get him to stop crying by giving him things to chew on. But Emily’s tired of it, right now, so she goes to see if she can find Daddy.

She finds him sitting on the back steps, looking out at the yard. She sits down next to him. “Hi,” she says.

“Hi, Em,” he says. He doesn’t look at her when he says it, so she tries to figure out what he is looking at. The flowers, she thinks.

“Are those the ones you planted?” she asks. “For…for Samantha?” She isn’t sure if she should say Aunt Samantha, because Samantha was Daddy’s sister and that would make her Emily’s aunt, if she were here, but Emily never met her. She died a long time ago, she knows. That’s why Daddy planted the flowers when they moved into the house, earlier this year, and Mommy helped. They planted them at the house, because Samantha was dead but Daddy didn’t have a cemetary to visit for her, like you do with most dead people. Emily couldn’t see them then—they were just seeds—but now she can; they’re bright yellow ones.

Daddy nods. “Yes.”

“They’re pretty,” she says. “Do they make you sad, though? To look at?” His face looks a little sad.

“The flowers? They don’t make me sad, exactly,” Daddy says. “They just make me think about Samantha. And that makes me sad, sometimes. Because I miss her.”

Emily nods. “I’m still sad when I think about my other mommy and daddy, sometimes,” she says. “Even though that was a long time ago too.”

Daddy puts an arm around her. “I think we all feel sad,” he says, “when we think about people we miss.”

“Was it a really long time ago?” Emily asks. “When she died, I mean.” She thinks it must be, because she’s seen a picture of Daddy with Samantha, and he was only a kid in it. An older kid, but still.

“Yes, a long time ago,” Daddy says.

“How old were you?” Emily asks.

“Well, I was twelve the last time I saw her,” Daddy says. “And she was eight then.”

Eight’s not a lot bigger than Emily. She doesn’t really like to think about it. “Did you play together?” she asks. “Like me and William?”

“We did,” Daddy says. “Sometimes we’d play outside, on nice days like this. That’s why I decided to come out to look at the flowers. Just to remember her. Just to think.”

Sometimes people like you to be quiet when they think, Emily knows. “Do you want me to go back inside?” she asks. “So you can think?”

He smiles at her. “No, that’s okay, Em. You’re not keeping me from thinking.”

They sit and look at the flowers together then. “I think they’re really pretty,” Emily says. “I bet she would like them so much.” Daddy doesn’t say anything. “Would we all play together?” she asks. “If she were here?”

He smiles at her, but his eyes look sad. “I bet we would,” he says, and he hugs her tight.

She hugs him back. “It’s okay to be sad,” she says, because Mommy and Daddy tell her that sometimes.

“Yeah, Em,” he says. “You’re right.”

They sit there for a while longer, and when they go back inside she gives William a hug too. Because he is her brother, even if he fusses a lot.

.....

It's been a busy several weeks. They’ve both been swamped at work, and then the kids have been passing a series of bugs back and forth between them. Scully knows it’s entirely out of their control, but after the third week of sniffling and coughing she wondered if they were doing something like licking the walls in the school bathrooms. Childhood illnesses are something she’s equipped to deal with, and she’s very grateful that her children are facing nothing worse, but that doesn’t make it any more fun.

She’s barely had any time to spend with Mulder, either, outside of the daily round. They’ve been tag teaming work and childcare and housework (the latter pretty minimal at this point), but something’s had to give, and unfortunately that something’s proved to be them as a couple. They’re too exhaused, most nights, to do anything more than smile at each other over the dinner table and then fall asleep as soon as their heads touch the pillow. She remembers days in the office, in the car together, in motel rooms, when she was sure she was going to die if she didn’t get to touch him. Now she’s got the chance, and she doesn’t have the energy to take advantage of it.

She tucks in Emily one night; she thinks Emily’s getting over whatever she has, although she doesn’t want to count on anything by now. “Are you feeling any better, sweetie?” she asks.

“I think so,” Emily says. She still sounds congested, but not as much as she did yesterday.

“Well, I’m sure sleep will help you,” Scully says. “Good night, Emily.”

“Good night, Mom,” Emily says. Scully turns out the light and leaves the room.

Mulder’s sitting on their bed, working on something on his computer. “Hey,” he says, when she comes in. “Just trying to get this lesson plan done. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says. She opens her drawer to look for pajamas. “I’m behind on that too.” She sighs.

Mulder looks up. “You doing okay?” he asks. “I mean, I guess none of us are doing great right now, but under the circumstances?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she says. She flops down next to him, just for a minute, and promises herself she won’t fall asleep in her clothes. At least tomorrow’s Saturday, thank goodness. “I just hate feeling like I’m dropping the ball.”

“You’re not dropping the ball,” Mulder says. “Life happens to everyone.”

She knows he means it. She knows she should accept the comfort. She thinks it’s probably easier to extend yourself that kind of grace when you’re not trying to be a woman in a workplace that’s still dominated by men. When your male students don’t talk to you with condescenscion. When you’re not being told what you have to do to be a good agent and what you have to do to be a good mother and finding impossible gaps in between them. She knows if she told Mulder this he would listen. But she doesn’t feel like it.

“I guess,” she says.

“Also,” he says, “I know we haven’t had much time to think about it, but do you have any ideas about what you want to do next Sunday?”

Sleep for fifteen hours, she thinks. “Is something going on next Sunday?”

“Yeah,” he says, “our anniversary.”

Shit, she’s an idiot. Add good wife to the list of impossible roles she’s trying to play right now. “I lost track of the dates. Sorry.”

“Hey,” he says. “It’s okay.” He kisses her cheek.

“It’s not okay,” she says. “I just…I wish we had more time for us.”

“We’ll get through this,” he says. “The kids are getting over their…whatever it is they have this time. And then we’ll catch up on work and…we’ll get through this.”

She knows he’s right, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. “I’ll think about next Sunday,” she says. “Try to come up with something.”

“Surprise me,” he says. “You’re good at that.”

“You’re good at it too,” she says. He’s never stopped surprising her, in all these years together. That’s one thing she can be glad about.

They don’t talk about it more right then, because they’re still exhausted. He finishes up the lesson plan, and she puts on her pajamas, and they both fall into bed.

Scully does try to think about their anniversary though, in between all the other things that make up her day. What she’d really like would be just for the two of them to have some time alone together, some time to relax and enjoy each other—that seems special enough right now. Maybe she can enlist her mom, she thinks, get her to take Emily and William for the day. She calls her, in between classes, and her mom says she’s happy to do it, that she’d expected to be asked, even. So that’s one part of the problem solved. Now she just has to figure out what to do with the rest of the time, if she should plan something or just let it unroll spontaneously. She doesn’t want to half-ass things, but then sometimes the spontaneous days, with the two of them, are the best ones.

She doesn’t have that much time to dwell on it over the course of the week, though. Emily and William are both healthy again, back in school, but that means extra time to devote to catching up on the work she let slide when they were sick. In her spare time, she wonders if Mulder is planning anything. It would be nice to let someone else do the work for once. Still, she wants him to know how much she appreciates him too.

And before she knows it, it’s Saturday night, and she still hasn’t come up with much of anything. At least she has the babysitting locked down. “My mom’s going to watch Emily and William tomorrow,” she tells Mulder. “So we can have some time alone.”

“Yeah, I know,” Mulder says, and, in response to her inquiring look, he adds, “I called to ask her, and she said you’d already arranged it.”

“Oh,” she says. “Great minds think alike, I guess.”

“Absolutely,” Mulder says. “Do you have a surprise planned for tomorrow, Scully?”

“Sure,” she says. She doesn’t add that if there’s a surprise, it will be a surprise to her, too. He smiles at her. She’s afraid he’s planned something elaborate, something to which anything she can plan in the next few hours won’t possibly measure up.

When he’s gone downstairs to look for a book, she digs through her underwear drawer—maybe there’s something she can wear in there, something special that he hasn’t seen in a while. They don’t often have time to make an occasion out of sex these days; of course, it’s still enjoyable when it’s not an occasion, but since it’s their anniversary, well, she wants it to be at least a little special. A lot of what she finds is depressingly practical, but near the bottom there’s a black set…She’s not even sure when she got it. But it’s pretty. Lace trim, red ribbons at the hips and the cleavage. She picks it up, looks at it. She likes what she sees. She wants Mulder to like her in it, but she thinks it might make her feel good too.

She stuffs it back into the drawer when she hears Mulder coming down the hall, but she’s smiling now. At least she has something planned. Even if it’s not elaborate, it’s special.

Her mom picks the kids up late in the morning, and then it’s just the two of them.

The energy feels different, as soon as the door closes. A day for her and Mulder, with no responsibilities. She feels like a kid playing hooky. She feels delicious. She feels like she wants Mulder to find out what she’s wearing under her t-shirt and jeans.

She thinks he feels the same, from the way he’s looking at her, and that’s before he presses her back against the wall and kisses her. She kisses him back, abandoning herself to it. Today she wants to be exhausted again, but only in the best way.

“So I have to admit,” Mulder says, drawing back from the kiss, “that I didn’t come up with much of a surprise for today. Because I just wanted to spend time with you.”

“I want that too,” she says. “Mine’s only a little surprise. But I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure,” he says. “Right now, I want to take you upstairs and make love to you. How does that sound?”

“I like what you’ve got in mind,” she says.

“And we can do that until we get tired of it,” he says, “or until our limbs don’t work any more. Whichever comes first.”

“I don’t think,” she says, “that I’m going to get tired of it.”

He half-carries her up the stairs.

This is what she needed, Scully thinks, as they kiss and kiss and kiss. As they pull at each other’s clothes; she tugs his shirt off and runs her hands down his chest, and he grabs her shirt too, pulling it over her head. And then he stops and looks.

“Scully,” he says. Just that word, just her name, but that and his look are enough. Even before he says, “God, you’re so beautiful.” And he says that again, when he has her jeans off and he’s looking at her. And “You’re so fucking sexy.”

They make love until she feels boneless, utterly sated, more content than she’s been in weeks, and so full of love for him. Then they drag themselves down to the kitchen, where they make a meal out of various leftovers. It’s not exactly a fancy anniversary dinner, but Scully can’t think of anything she’d rather do than be here with him. From the way he’s smiling at her, she can tell that he feels the same.

“So I did get you a little something,” he says, when they’ve finished eating. He opens the freezer, takes it out, and presents it to her. Rocky road ice cream, the good brand, the kind she doesn’t keep in the house because she knows one of two things will happen: the kids will eat it before she gets a chance to, or she’ll have to scarf it down to keep that from happening. But the kind she likes the best.

“Thank you,” she says. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says. “And hey…I wanted you to know that I’m proud of you. You do an amazing job with everything, even in crazy weeks like this one.” He smiles at her. “You deserve to feel good about that.”

She didn’t tell him how she was feeling in so many words, but he knew. She doesn’t answer him in so many words either, but she kisses him long and slow.

She eats the ice cream right out of the carton; she offers Mulder some, out of obligation, but he doesn’t take any, except for a little that he licks off her lips. “What time is your mom bringing the kids back?” he asks.

She looks at the clock. “Around seven, I think. She said she’d give them supper. We still have a few hours. Back to bed?”

“You read my mind,” he says.

They make love again, and then they doze next to each other, which is almost as pleasurable, in its own way. She’s so happy they had this day for just them. But she’s truly happy, too, when the doorbell rings and they go down to hug their children hello.

.....

Emily’s really good at baseball. She plays with high schoolers, a lot of the time, even though she’s only in middle school, and she’s the shortest one and the only girl, mostly. She’s William’s favorite baseball player. He likes some other ones too, but Emily’s special because she’s his sister and he actually knows her. The other baseball players he likes he only gets to see from far away.

He also gets to play with her. Even though she’s so good, she’ll always play catch with him. She can throw the ball really fast, he’s seen her, but when they play together she throws it slowly so he can catch it. She helps him practice hitting too, and she’ll run around and catch the balls he hits, even though a lot of them don’t go where he means them to go, and sometimes she has to run a really long way.

“It’s okay,” she’ll tell him. “That’s why you practice. I had to practice a lot, to get to where I am.” Sometimes when Emily says things like that, their dad says that she’s twelve going on twenty-five. William’s not sure what that means, but he thinks it’s a good thing, because he always smiles when he says it.

William wishes he could be as good as Emily, even though she tells him she wasn’t that good when she was six. Everybody in their family likes baseball. They all like to watch it, but William’s the only one who can’t really play it. When Emily practices with just their mom and dad, they can go fast, but when he plays with them, they have to go slow. Emily’s a lot older than him, and mostly he likes that because she can teach him things and stick up for him and they don’t really fight a lot. But sometimes he wishes he could be bigger, so that he could be good at things like she is.

They’re playing catch together in the yard one day when their dad comes outside too. “How’s it going?” he asks them.

“Good, Dad,” Emily says. “I’m trying to show William how to throw the ball overhand. Want to show Dad, William?”

So he tries, but the ball doesn’t go where he wants it to go. It almost goes into Emily’s face, but she ducks. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s hard.”

“That’s okay, Will,” Emily says. “You just have to keep trying.”

“You’ll get it soon, buddy,” their dad says. But William doesn’t know if he will or not. He knows Emily says she had to practice a lot to be good, but he doesn’t remember her ever not being good.

“I guess,” he says softly. They play for a little longer, and then Emily says that she has homework to do, and she goes inside. William sits down on the steps.

His dad sits down next to him. “Everything okay, Will?” he asks.

“I wish I could be good at baseball,” William says. “Everyone else is.”

“You’re still learning,” his dad says. “What matters is that you have fun with it. Do you have fun playing?”

William thinks about it. Sometimes he does, but sometimes he doesn’t, because it’s hard. “I guess I do,” he says. “Usually.”

His dad looks at him for a minute, and then he squeezes his shoulders. “You don’t have to play if it’s not fun,” he says. “You can take a break.” But that just makes William feel worse, like his dad doesn’t think he should keep playing. Because maybe he’ll never be good like Emily. He just shrugs then, and he stays sitting there while his dad goes inside. He bounces the ball up and down, and then it rolls away.

He's watching it when his mom comes outside. “Hey, Will,” she says. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” William says.

“Your dad told me you were feeling a little sad,” she says. “About baseball.” She sits down on the step behind him, and he leans against her legs.

“Emily is so good at it,” he says. “And you and dad are good too. But I’m not.”

She smoothes his hair. “It’s hard sometimes, when you’re younger,” she says. “I remember when I was your age. I wanted to be able to do everything Bill and Missy could do.” That’s her older brother and sister, William knows—Uncle Bill in California, who they sometimes see at Christmas and Thanksgiving, and Aunt Melissa, who died before William was born. “You know how we moved around a lot, right?” William nods. “Missy was so good at making new friends, wherever we went. I wanted to be able to do that too.”

“So what did you do?” William asks.

“Well, I sulked some of the time,” his mom says, and she laughs. “And then I tried to copy whatever she did, but that didn’t work so well either. And finally…I tried doing things I was interested in and finding people who liked to do them too.”

“And that worked?” William asks.

“It did,” his mom says. “Much better than trying to be exactly like Missy.”

William can tell she’s trying to tell him something. “I don’t want to be exactly like Emily,” he says. “It’s just that she’s really good, and I think…I think that’s nice.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” his mom says. “It’s good to have things you want to do, Will. But you shouldn’t get down on yourself if they don’t happen exactly like you expect them to.” She kisses the top of his head. “And there can be different ways of playing baseball. Just like there can be different ways of making friends.”

William doesn’t understand that. There’s a way you’re supposed to play baseball; it’s in the rules. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“Well, think about it,” she says. “First of all, you can play lots of different positions, right?”

“Right,” William says.

“So you might be better at one than at another,” his mom says. “And then there are different reasons you can like to play. Like Emily likes to play with her team. And I just like to play with you and Emily and your dad, so I can spend time with all of you.”

That makes sense, William guesses. “Are you saying I should just play at home?” he asks. “Instead of on a team?”

“Not exactly,” his mom says. “If you want to be on a team, I think you should keep practicing for that. And I’d be happy to help you. But if you’d rather just play with us, that’s okay too. It doesn’t mean you can’t be good at baseball. Or that you can’t love it.” He looks up at her; she’s smiling. “One of the reasons I love baseball is because your dad showed me how to play it. And that’s a really good memory for me. It might not be the reason anyone else loves baseball, but that’s mine. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

William thinks about it. He thinks about going to a baseball game for the first time, with his mom and dad and Emily, and eating lots of popcorn, and all of them wearing matching baseball caps, and cheering so loud. He thinks about Emily playing catch with him, every day sometimes, in the summer. “Yeah,” he says. “I understand.” And he hugs his mom. She hugs him back.

.....

The first time Scully went away for a conference, after they had the kids, she called at least twice each day to check in, to tell them she missed them. (Mulder would make fun at her, if he hadn’t done exactly the same thing.) Now, when Emily’s sixteen and Will’s ten, she’s a little bit more calm about it all. She’s away until Saturday; today’s Thursday, and she told them she’d call this evening, and Mulder doesn’t expect to be hearing from her ahead of schedule.

When he gets home from work, he decides to ask the kids if they have any ideas about what they want for dinner. “Pizza,” Will says. He’s doing his homework at the kitchen table.

That sounds pretty appealing. “Good idea,” Mulder says. “Do you know where Emily is? I’ll check with her too.”

“She went up to her room, I think,” Will says, and, as Mulder turns to go, he adds, “She was mad about something.”

“Mad about something?” Mulder asks. “What do you mean?”

Will shrugs. “I don’t know. I asked her what was up and she told me to leave her alone. And I didn’t even do anything.” He looks faintly injured.

“It’s probably not anything you did,” Mulder says. “Thanks for letting me know, though. I’ll check on her.”

He heads upstairs to Emily’s room. The door is pulled closed, and he knocks. “Emily? It’s me. Can I come in?”

“Okay,” she says, and he opens the door. When he sees her face, he can tell that Will was at least partially right: she’s definitely upset about something. He doesn’t think she’s mad, though. She looks more sad.

“Are you okay, Em?” he asks her. She shrugs. “Is something bothering you?” She nods, after a minute. “Want to talk about it?” She’s getting older, and he might not be able to help solve her problems as easily as he once did, but he’ll always try.

“I don’t know,” Emily says. “I’d kind of…I’d rather talk to Mom about it. It’s that kind of thing.”

He’s not one hundred percent sure what that means. “Okay,” he says. “You can talk to her when she calls tonight. Are you all right physically, though?”

“Oh, yeah,” Emily says. “It’s not about menstruation, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He has to smile when she puts it like that, because it was one of the things he was thinking, and because she sounds so much like Scully. “Good to know,” he says. “Well, then…”

“It’s about a boy,” she blurts out, as he’s hovering between staying and going.

“Ah,” he says. He hopes the boy in question hasn’t broken her heart. It seems so early in life for that to be happening, although a part of him knows that he thinks that because she’s his daughter and he wants to keep her safe and happy.

“Well, sort of,” she says. She doesn’t say anything more, but the way she looks at him makes him think that she wants to talk now, not wait until the evening. Scully’s not here, though, so maybe he’ll have to do.

“You sure you don’t want to talk to me?” he asks. “I know some things about boys. As they were when I was one, anyway. Maybe they’ve changed since then.”

Emily almost smiles at that. “I don’t think people really change in how they act,” she says. “Okay, well, it’s…there’s this boy at school. And we’re in a lot of classes together. And we talk sometimes. And…I kind of like him.” The words are soft, like an admission, and Mulder nods, trying to look as understanding as he can. “So we have the spring dance coming up next month, and I thought I would ask him if he wanted to go together. I mean, why not, right?”

“Good for you, Em,” Mulder says. She’s braver in some things, at sixteen, than he’s ever been.

“So I asked him today,” Emily says, “and he said no.”

“Just like that?” Mulder asks. “Just ‘no’? What’s the matter with this guy?”

“It wasn’t just no,” Emily says. “He was nice about it. He just said he was sorry, but he didn’t feel like that about me. I’m not mad at him or anything.”

“I get why you’re upset, though,” Mulder says. “Still, you should be proud of yourself for asking him. That kind of thing’ll stand you in good—”

“That’s not exactly what I’m upset about,” Emily says. “I mean, I am disappointed. I’m just…I was talking to one of my friends after and I started wondering about why. She was saying…well, that maybe it was because of what I’m like in class.”

“What you’re like in class?” Mulder asks.

“Yeah,” Emily says. “Because I always answer a lot of questions. And I talk a lot, when we have discussions. And she said it’s not that boys don’t like it when girls are smart. But they don’t like it when the girls are smarter than them. And that’s just…I mean, I’m not going to stop talking in class. That would be an idiotic thing to do. But I just wonder if that means I won’t ever get a boyfriend.” She’s biting her lip now. She looks young, and confused, and sad.

So maybe Emily’s not mad, but Mulder is. “What kind of friend is this?” he asks. “To tell you something like that.”

Emily shrugs. “She’s not my best friend or anything. But she didn’t say it to be mean. She was being honest.”

“Well, maybe she thinks she was,” Mulder says. “But Em, that’s not something you should be worried about at all. You will meet plenty of people who will love how smart you are. Guys included.”

“How do you know?” Emily asks.

“You’d say your mom was pretty smart, wouldn’t you?” he asks, and Emily nods. “And that’s one of the reasons I fell in love with her. One of many reasons,” he adds. “And if you love someone who’s smart, like that, you can have much better conversations, and…I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t want to be with someone smart.”

“Yeah, but you guys are older,” Emily says.

“That’s true,” Mulder concedes. “And I will admit that a lot of people in high school don’t really know what they want or where they’re going. But some do. I know you’re one of them.”

“Sometimes, I guess,” she says.

“Sure,” Mulder says. “It’s not always simple. But you were brave enough to ask that guy. And you know you’re not going to stop talking in class, no matter what anyone says. Those things are important, Emily.” She’s watching him, listening. “I bet you’ll meet other people who know those things too. And if you don’t…you won’t be in high school forever, either. There’s a lot more out there.”

“Thank God,” she says, and he chuckles. She smiles too.

“Your mom and I are really proud of the person you are,” he tells her. “And you should be too. Don’t waste your time with anyone who acts like that’s not good enough. Okay?”

“Okay,” she says, and she hugs him spontaneously, which she doesn’t do as often as she used to. “Thanks, Dad.”

“What I’m here for,” he says. “Will and I were thinking about getting pizza for tonight. How does that sound to you?”

“Good,” Emily says. “Can we get extra cheese?”

“Absolutely,” he says. “And you can talk to your mom by yourself tonight, if you want to. Will and I will go, after we’re done saying hi.”

“Thanks,” Emily says, and then, after a minute, “I already feel a lot better, though.”

“I’m glad,” he says.

.....

Emily and Will have been sitting in the diner all morning, and even though it’s not crowded or anything, the waiter has been giving them looks. They’ve tried to keep ordering, but there’s a limit to how much you can eat (at least Emily thinks so—she’s not sure about Will, but she feels like it would be irresponsible to let him have a third plate of bacon). And she’s already too amped up for another cup of coffee.

“How much longer do you think it’s going to be?” Will asks.

“I don’t know,” Emily says. “These things take a while.”

He’s quiet, fiddling with his utensils. “I hope Mom’s okay.”

“Mom will be fine,” Emily says quickly. “She said everything looked really good at her last appointment, remember? She wouldn’t lie to us. And she’s got good doctors. And she’s got Dad.”

“Yeah,” Will says. “But still…it’s hard, right? They say it’s hard and it hurts and…” He looks worried.

“I know,” Emily says. “I’m sure she’s…it’s not like a fun day or anything. But she’s done it before, right? With you.” Not with Emily, herself; she knows the whole story now, and sometimes she’s mad about it, but it’s never made a real difference in how she feels about her relationship with her mom, with her dad, with Will, with this baby who’s coming into the world today. “And she was ready to do it again, so that must mean something.”

“I guess,” Will says. “Do you remember it? When I was born.”

“I wasn’t there,” Emily says. “I was at home with Grandma. I don’t think I was worried about Mom or anything. Too young, probably. I was just worried that Mom and Dad were going to love you better than me.”

“They do,” Will says, and she makes a face at him.

“But I came to see you all the next day,” she says, “and I liked you a lot better than I thought I would. And Mom was fine. And she’ll be fine today, too.”

Will nods. “Can we get pancakes?” he asks, after a minute.

She doesn’t feel like arguing with him right now, and besides, pancakes sound good. “Sure.”

“Aren’t we supposed to smoke cigars?” he asks, when they’re eating. “While we’re waiting for the baby. Don’t people smoke cigars?”

“Well, we shouldn’t smoke cigars at all, because it’s disgusting,” Emily says, “but I think that’s for after the baby anyway. And it’s for the dad. He’s supposed to give cigars to people, or something.” She laughs. “I can’t really picture Dad doing that.”

“Nah,” Will says. He pours a lot of maple syrup onto his pancakes. She does the same.

It’s mid-afternoon and she’s lost track of how many meals they’ve had when her phone rings. She sees it’s their dad and grabs it. “Hi! Is the baby here?”

“She’s here,” their dad confirms, and she knows he’s smiling, even though she can’t see it. “She and your mom are doing great.”

“Who does she look like?” Emily asks.

“She’s got your mom’s eyes,” he says. “But brown hair. You can decide for yourself what you think.”

“So we can come over?” Emily says.

“Yeah,” he says. “We can’t wait to see you both.”

“We can’t wait either,” Emily says, and they say goodbye.

She fills Will in while she’s paying for a truly outrageous amount of food, and then they walk over towards the hospital. There’s a florists’s on the way, and they stop there; Will says they should get blue flowers, because their mom likes blue, so that’s what they do.

They make their way in by the visitors’ entrance. Their dad texted her the room number, with directions, and they find it pretty quickly. Will’s carrying the flowers now, so Emily taps at the door. “Come in,” she hears her mom’s voice say, and they do.

It was strange, finding out she was getting a little sister now, when they’d only be in the house together for ten months or so before Emily went off to college. She was excited about it, but sometimes she wondered if she’d be able to be close to the baby the way she was close to Will.

But when her mom says, “Here she is,” and they go over to look at the baby, she decides that was silly. It might not be exactly the same, but she knows she loves her little sister. She knows she’s excited to have her in her life.

“Hi there,” she says. “Hi, sweetie.” She touches one of the baby’s hands.

“Wow,” Will says. “She’s so little.”

Their dad laughs. “That’s what Emily said when she first saw you,” he says.

“Mm-hmm,” their mom says. “Doesn’t seem that long ago, does it?”

“Are you okay, Mom?” Will asks.

She smiles at him. “I’m great, sweetheart. Thank you for asking.” She touches the baby’s head, and she looks so happy.

“Did you figure out the name?” Will asks. They’ve been going back and forth about different ideas.

“Yes,” their mom says. “Susanna.”

“Hi, Susanna,” Will says. Susanna yawns. They stand together and watch her.

[simplyslytherin]

Concerning Severus

Number 12 Grimmauld Place wasn't one of Claire's favorite places in the world. Sirius her distant cousin was pleasant enough company, he did love the children and Arthur especially loved when "uncle doggy" came out to play. However, it was the confused calculating look he gave her whenever he heard her call for Severus, her two year old that made her not want to vist much.

"Sirius just ask," she said while playing with Severus's hair. He looked remarkably like Jacob for some reason.

"Why name your boy after Snivellus?"

"He was my head of house."

"From what Harry has told me he is the worst professor of the lot and that's including the ones that tried to kill him,"

"He's strict. Not evil. He would never hurt a student."

"That's not what Harry said he tried to murder that Neville boy's toad."

Claire started to shush Severus he was waking up, "Accio blanket," tucking the blanket around her son, he stopped moving and went back to calm slumber.

"Even if he did do that he wouldn't of killed the toad, he would of found a way to revive it."

"Claire why are you so insistent that Snivellus is a good person?"

"I owe him my life," she looked at Severus moving his blond bangs away from his eyes, "he saved me and helped me start my life with Ben. He is a good man. Why would he help us if that wasn't the case?"

"Let me guess Snivellus used the imperious curse on your father to let you get your things and helped you move out. Oh, and he even let you stay at his house while you completed healer training!" Sirius laughed his sarcastic tone dripping from everyword.

Claire glared at him, "if you wake my baby up your not gonna like what happens Sirius."

"Fine, fine what did he do?"

"He sent some owls for me."

"Sent some owls thats ridiculous! Anyone could do that,"

"Sirius your father had a pensive, right? Go get it please."

He left and return with it a short while later. "I don't see how this will change my opinion on Snivellus."

"Give it a try," she gathered up Severus and started extracting some memories, "I think this should be enough," she tipped the memories into the pensive.

Sirius looked very skeptical but obliged anyway entering the pensive. Claire followed carrying Severus.

The memory was crisp and clear she could see the bags under professor Snapes eyes as he left his classroom. He walked briskly and Claire motioned for Sirius to follow her. Professor Snape rounded a corner clutching his head slightly. He opened a door suddenly to reveal a frazzled crying Claire.

"Miss Reyes, I thought I made it clear that you had to maintain control of your emotions so you wouldn't be accadently attacking other legilimens! As much as I enjoy mental images of you torturing that Skeeter woman, I must insist-"

"She just issued our death warrant." Claire said simply resignation in her voice.

"I beg your pardon?"

Silently she handed him the copy of the Evening Prophet. On the top of the newspaper it read: "old sins rectified as former deatheater's daughter dates muggle born boy!"

The article continued with several quotes from Claire about how supportive her father in particular was, "mum took some time to come around but daddy liked him instantly," one quote read. However, the most damaged part Claire thought was the photo, she and Ben were outside of Honeydukes, she tripped leading to him catching her. The position was very intimate until Ben let her go and stole some of her Fizzing Whizbees as a prize she stole some of his licorice in protest.

"He's gonna kill us both," she said after Professor Snape folded the newspaper, "seven years of keeping Ben safe only for it to be blown by that woman! Mum already said not to send anything by owl or he would have it intercepted, I just have to sit here like a good girl until my execution,"

"That will not happen," Snape said. "We will not let it happen. Expecto patronus," a silver doe burst out of his wand and ran into the castle, "Miss Reyes come with me we have much to do," he swept away Clair following him. "You are friends with the Weasleys, correct?"

"Yes"

"Good," the sliver doe had appeared again and he directed it with his wand and once more it tore through the castle.

"Miss Reyes, contact Mr Copper."

"Expecto patronus," a small sparrowhawk burst through and landed on her arm. "Professor are we meeting in your office?" Snape nodded, "Go find Ben and tell him to meet in Professor Snape's office, its important," she lifted up her arm as the patronus flew away.

The memory faded and she and Sirius found themselves, her younger self, Ben, Mcgonagall, Snape, Dumbledore, and Mr and Mrs Weasley in Dumbledore's office.

Suddenly the fire place light up and out stepped a older witch, her hair looked like she had just enough time to pull it up and she looked uncharacteristically rumpled.

Professor Snape put himself infront of Claire in a protective motion. "Get out of my way let me see my daughter!" She yelled. Ben had jumped up and moved Claire behind him. The woman quickly pushed past Snape and Ben. She took Claire's face in her hands and began inspecting. She moved her hair checked her neck and even lifted her sleeves inspecting her fingers and wrists.

"Mum what are you doing?"

"Looking for cursed objects, your father probably sent one already, I was able to do a lot but that man is stubborn." She finally finished her inspection turning to the stunned faces around her.

"Mum just leave him."

"You know why I can't."

"But-"

"Professor Dumbledore, please save my daughter."

A stunned silence crossed the room.

"Severus, will look after her, Lilith."

Lilith turned around and looked at Severus, "please protect my baby, I can't lose another one. I just can't"

The memory faded to show professor Snape and Claire in his office at the end of the school year, "you will need to use floo power instead of taking the train back home. No doubt your father will be waiting for you on the platform. This," he said producing a small key, "is to your new apartment in London, the lease is under my name, as far as anyone is concerned you are my niece and I'm renting the property out to you. You will stay with the Weasleys for a time before moving there."

"But what about healer traning my father could come to that."

"Professor Dumbledore, has made aragements for him to be unable to enter. And wherever you work, be it Saint Mungo's or for some quidditch team, we will put things in place so he cannot get to you."

"Thank you professor, is there any way I can ever repay you?"

"Yes, there is, be happy with him. Be happy and start a family and you must complete your healer training. Miss Reyes if you ever need anything please owl me."

"Thank you Professor," Claire said a pleased smile on her face.

""Severus,"

"Thank you Severus."

"Your welcome, Claire."

The memory ended and she and Sirius exited the pensive.

"He did all that for you?"

"He did."

"And all he wanted was for you to be happy?" The shock in Sirius's voice was evident.

"Yes, he seemed quite pleased when I completed healer traning top of my class and even more so when we sent him a wedding invitation," Claire had busied herself with making Severus more wrapped up in his blanket.

"How did he react when he found out you named your boy after him?"

"I was quite pleased Sirius," Snape's low drawl startled them both.

"Hello Severus, " Claire greated warmly, "would you like to hold him?"

"Certainly. But he won't be scared by a stranger? "

"He knows who you are,"

"How old is he now?"

"Almost 2," Claire handed Severus to Snape and he smiled.

Sirius looked back and forth between them like they had lost their minds.

Ben appeared with two small children holding his hands, "Mummy!" The little girl said running to Claire.

"Rowan, did you have fun with daddy?"

"Yeah, Artie busted his nose running into a door," she giggled. Claire's head snapped up to took at Ben.

"I fixed him up, he's just embarrassed," Ben said and true to his word Arthur was buried behind Ben's leg.

Molly's voice called out "lunch is ready everyone!"

"Kids go wash up and make sure you say hello to grandma Weasley," Ben told them. Little Severus was waking up so Snape handed him to his father, "will you be joining us for lunch Severus?" Ben asked pleasantly.

"I suppose I will."

[angelamoores]

Friends Don’t Kiss

this is the second part in the Friends Don’t series and it’s almost double the length of part 1 oops. tagging: @mychenrymadness @chenoahchantel @up-the-tube @ginger--binger @ciara-knightly @rorythevambire @cactus-con @charlottepage let me know if you want to be added/removed

In the days that followed, Charlotte and Henry spoke more and ‘acted less weird’ on Jasper’s request. However, things were still off between them, neither of them willing to make the first leap in fear that their feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated. When Jasper asked what the worst that could happen was, either of them would reply with some variation of ‘I don’t want to ruin our friendship and make things awkward’, failing to see the irony in the fact that it was precisely what was already happening. 

It was just a normal Wednesday in the Hart household. Henry’s parents were both out and his sister was off somewhere with some girls she didn’t really like, leaving him and his friends in the living room doing homework after work. He and Charlotte were perched on opposing ends of the couch whilst Jasper had opted for the purple armchair near the mantlepiece. 

If asked he would deny it, but a part of him had chosen to let them sit near each other, hoping it might lead to them at least acknowledging each other outside of courtesy. It wasn’t like the idea of his two best friends dating each other didn’t scare him. He didn’t love the thought of them leaving him out, or having to pick up the pieces if it all came tumbling down. But right now, anything seemed better than the overwhelming silence between them. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the vibrations of a cell phone which he soon realised came from his back pocket. He lifted it to see the call was from his grandma and knew then what was about to happen. He spoke to her, answering when appropriate in a script he’d learned over time, as he begun to round up his stuff into his backpack. 

Henry had been struggling with his English assignment and hadn't noticed the phone call at first. But he caught a glance at Jasper’s face, and recognised the words that would come out of his mouth before he said them. 

“I gotta go, my grandma fell and she can’t get up.”

They both gave a knowing nod in response, but it wasn’t until moments after he’d left that they realised they were now alone. It wasn’t really that big of a deal. At least it shouldn’t have been. They were friends, this was definitely not the first time it had just been the two of them alone in Henry’s house. Why were they acting so weird, dammit?

Three minutes passed and still nothing but silence. ‘This getting ridiculous!’ Charlotte thought to herself. Slowly, she let herself look up from the AP biology homework she had finished a while ago and had just been pretending to read over. At the other end of the couch, Henry was sat with one leg tucked up, the hood of his grey hoodie pulled up past his ears, but not so high she couldn’t see his face. She took this opportunity to study him. The way whatever had had a hold on his hair in the beginning of the day had been defeated by the passage of time, allowing loose blond curls to flop onto his tanned skin. The all too familiar expression of frustration on his brow, the one he made when the words just weren’t registering.

Henry had been young when he was diagnosed with dyslexia, it had been obvious to everyone but him. Reading, writing and spelling never came naturally to him.  Sure, he had never excelled academically, but there were plenty of other things he was good at. Not that this was overly reassuring when he had a paper due the next day. 

Maybe the familiarity of the situation made it simple. Or maybe Charlotte’s need to help her best friend was stronger than any little crush could ever be. Either way, it was easy for her to shuffle to his end of the couch and place a hand on his shoulder. “Here, Hen. You dictate, I’ll write.”

They spent hours on the sofa, Henry either dangling upside down, sideways or practically any other option other than just sitting like normal person whilst Charlotte wrote out his words for his assignment. At some point, he had received a text to say that his parents had decided to stay at his grandparents’ over night. At some point, they had both passed out in his living room.

It was almost 1am when a noise woke Henry up. His house had been broken into enough times to leave him paranoid, so he was relieved to see it was only his notepad that Charlotte had nudged off the cushion in her sleep. He tried to keep still, realising that her head was in his lap, leaving her laid out across the entire couch. 

He grabbed his phone from beside him as quietly as he could muster, scrolling through the hourly “I’m still alive, Henry, calm your tits” texts from Piper that he insisted she send him whenever she was staying out overnight. His parents might have been naïve enough to believe her when she said she was sleeping over at a friend’s house - hell after five years they hadn’t even noticed he was a superhero- but he knew she was really at parties or galas or whatever the hell else her celebrity status got her invited to. There was nothing to say she was home, though, meaning they still had the house to themselves.

He put his phone back down and turned his attention back to his best friend. He knew it was weird to watch her sleep and he swore he was going to stop after a second. She just looked so peaceful. It wasn’t really until then that he realised how much stress and worry her usual expression carried. If the last couple years of crime fighting had been hard on him, the constant fear that every time she watched him and Ray go up the tubes it might be the last was tearing her apart on the inside. It was no business for kids, though they hardly felt like kids anymore.

“Whatcha thinking about?” She asked raspily as she awakened, still dazed from sleep.

Not wanting to get into what had left him so deep in thought at this hour, Henry let a lazy grin creep across his lips as he glanced down at her lovingly. “Just Nacho Ball.” 

Charlotte rolled her eyes and elbowed him lightly in the side. “Believe it or not, I just had a rather elaborate dream about their jalapeño poppers.” That had by no means been the only notable thing from her dreams last night, but her stubborn unwillingness to make things weird again pushed that thought aside.

He let out an airy laugh, throwing his head back against the cushions. Sometimes, he thought that Schwoz had secretly hooked up their brains to think alike; though if he had, Henry would probably have made some better life decisions. 

But whilst they were on the topic of food, he realised neither of them had eaten since lunch. And no one was home to stop them them from getting fast food in the middle of the night.

“Hey, isn’t there that twenty-four hour Nacho Ball a couple blocks away?” 

Charlotte nodded, before realising what exactly he was suggesting. “Hen,” she whined, everything that could- and probably would- go wrong already playing through her head.

“Char,” he mimicked, accompanied by pouty lips and puppy dog eyes.

“It could be dangerous.”

“I’m Kid Danger for god’s sake! Plus you have that laser Ray makes you carry in case of an extreme emergency, which won’t happen. Stop overthinking this.”

“Well,” she said, stalling as she was running out of arguments, wondering why exactly she was even fighting it, “it’s cold.”

“You can borrow that one hoodie of mine that you like.”

And with that she sat up from his lap and ran upstairs to his room. Henry shook his head with a smile, moving to put on some sneakers. Charlotte took her assumed position as The Sensible One very seriously, but she was still just a teenager with a rebellious streak and a appetite for adventure like any other.

“You coming, Kid Dork?” She questioned from his front door, somehow downstairs again without him noticing. He only laughed, grabbing his keys from the mantle before following her out into the night.

…

If it had been late when they left, it was an ungodly hour in which they returned. They walked hand in hand down the sidewalk, for safety of course, having a petty debate over what was truly the best breakfast cereal of all time. Henry had been making a pretty heated argument in favor of Cinnamon Toast Crunch when they reached his front porch. At some point it had rained a little, so both had their hoods up, though each had a few curls peaking out the front.

Charlotte had wound up with her back against the door, Henry facing her, standing a little too close. He had finished his point, but she was too caught up in the moment to counter it. There was nothing on her mind other than the way he was looking down at her, the glint in his eyes and the hint of a smile on his lips. She felt as if he was only getting closer, it took her moment to realise that he was. And suddenly she really didn’t hate the thought of it.

“Henry?” 

At the sound of his name, he pulled away so fast that Piper had to place a hand on his shoulder to steady him. Charlotte almost hit her head on the door at the realisation they weren’t quite alone in the night.

“Yes. It is me. Your brother. Henry,” he clarified, scratching the back of his head, as if everyone present wasn’t already aware of all the information he had given. Under slightly different circumstances, Charlotte might’ve laughed.

“I know who you are, dummy. You look surprised I’m back, did you not get my texts?” Piper asked, also a little shellshocked about the sight she’d walked in on. He could tell by her outfit that she’d been at a party, probably with some socialite she’d met online. He didn’t remember getting any texts about her return, though come to think of it he hadn’t even glanced at his phone once the entire time they’d been out. There hadn’t been a need.

He shook his head in response before unlocking the door and heading inside, pretending he desperately needed to use the bathroom. 

“Hang back a sec, Char,” Piper requested, dumping the gift bag she’d received from the party on the ground beside her. 

Charlotte swallowed hard, but obeyed. She hadn’t really talked about her feelings out loud properly before. Jasper- bless his heart- had tried his best, but at the end of the day he was still just a boy. This was different.

“So those dreams you mentioned, they were about-?”

“Your brother.” She filled in slowly, fiddling with the sleeve of Henry’s hoodie.

“Huh.” It was all Piper could seem to manage for the moment, taking a seat on the step of her porch. Charlotte sat down beside her and they both stared out into the night.

Piper knew she had no right to be mad. Charlotte had always been Henry’s friend first. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been told the truth at first, she could understand why. Really she was just surprised she hadn’t seen it before, the way her brother’s face lit up at the mention of her name, the way they both looked at each other, the sheer amount of time they spent together. 

The thought of her with Henry would take some adjusting to, but it was already written, it had been destined to happen. Right from the start. Mainly, she was happy. Piper had no shortage of friends, but Charlotte would always be her favorite. And now, she would probably be around even more.

“Henry better not mess this up, because I really love you,” she spoke finally, her words decisive.

Charlotte smiled in relief, terrified that she might’ve just lost her only female friend. She engulfed her in a hug, returning the sentiment.  

“But Piper?” She pulled away and turned to face her younger friend. “We’re just friends, dreams are weird,” Charlotte insisted, reusing Henry’s words from the week before. 

Piper shook her head in exasperation. She may have been younger but she was hardly the clueless one in this conversation. “Friends don’t kiss.” Her friend was about to remind her that they hadn’t in fact kissed, but she acted like she hadn’t noticed. “But don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”

“Girl code?”

“Girl code. Now get inside, it’s like 4 in the morning and we all have school tomorrow."

[littleindigochildx]

I think daddy is sick ♡ [drabble]

“Daddy?”

The seven year old said as she stood next to David’s bed shaking him to wake him up. It was almost one in the afternoon. He never slept this long, especially when he had the kids for the weekend, but they had been awake for hours and he had yet to grace them with his presence. “Daddy, why are you still sleepin’?” Savvy asked while checking to make sure he still had a pulse..Something she learned from her mother.

His room reeked of vomit and alcohol. There was a half-empty bottle on his nightstand from the solo party he had after Timmy and Savvy went to bed. Things had been this way for a while. “Are you sick?” The seven year old questioned. David groaned in return and rolled over. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with his children, he was just too hungover to get out of bed. His head was pounding...A sensation that was only magnified by Savanna’s not-so-quiet-tone. “I’m fine, Savvy…” He mumbled, but it was clear to her that he wasn’t. “Go find your brother and play.” He instructed, but Timmy was already busy with a video game. She was hungry and it was past lunch time. “We want lunch, daddy…” The little girl said softly. Her request was met with silence. She couldn’t tell if David had fallen back to sleep or if he was just ignoring her, but she took his lack of a response as a sign that she and her brother were on their own for lunch, just as they had been on their own for breakfast.

“Timmy...I think daddy is sick.” The little brunette furrowed her brow as she took a seat beside her brother. “He won’t get out’a bed even though it’s lunch time.” A pout was ever present on her face when she stayed with their father...Not because she didn’t want to be there, (which she didn’t) but because it was no longer fun for them to spend time with David. “I wish mommy was here…” Savvy admitted out loud. Victoria always knew what to do. She always knew just how to make them feel better when they were sick so Savanna thought she could make David better too. “Do ya think we need’a get him to a doctor?” The little girl asked. Timmy paused his game to look at his sister. “Dad is a doctor.” He reminded her. In his eight year old mind he thought that meant David was incapable of getting sick, especially since Timmy couldn’t remember a time when he had actually seen his father sick. “I know, but…” Savvy sighed. “I think he has a really bad tummy ache. He got sick in his bed like that time I had a tummy bug.” Timothy seemed more interested in his game than the conversation. He loved his dad, but this version of David was already getting old.

“What does mommy do for us when we are sick?” Savanna asked. Timmy looked up at her again. “She always makes soup...and tea…” He saved his game since it was clear to him that his sister wasn't going to leave until they talked this out. Savvy had his attention now and if David was sick, he needed them to take care of him. “She also gives us that special juice and some medicine.” He added. Savanna was already on her way to the kitchen to see what they had in terms of food she and Timmy could prepare unsupervised. “Mommy said we’re not’a ‘loud ta use the stove...Cause we could get burned. Think cereal will make daddy feel better? He can have some’a my Lucky Charms.” Savanna suggested with a shrug. “Cereal has too much sugar. It’ll make his stomach feel worse.” Timmy replied. “We can make him toast. I know how ta use the toaster...Mom didn’t say we couldn’t use that.” He reached for the bread and took the butter out of the refrigerator. “Timmy. I wanna help.” The seven year old insisted. “You can get dad some juice. Just try not to spill.” Savvy nodded. She was pretty good about not spilling as long as the container wasn’t too full. “What’a ‘bout medicine?” Neither one of them knew the first thing about medication. They knew where David kept his, but they also knew they weren’t allowed to touch it. “I don’t think he needs that.” Timmy finally said. “Some toast and juice should be good.”

Once the toast (that Timmy burned slightly) was ready, they carried it to David’s bedroom to give it to him. “Daddy…” Savanna whispered. “We brought stuff for your tummy.” She placed the glass she was carrying on his night stand. “Mommy gives us this when we are sick.” Savanna explained. David groaned something inaudible and Timmy put the plate with toast beside the juice. “It's not workin'..." Savvy frowned before she was struck with an idea of her own. "Stay here...I got one more idea.” Savanna told her brother.

She disappeared out of the room to head for her own. There was one thing (besides Victoria) that always made her feel better when she was sick or when she was scared. Teddy. She grabbed him off her bed and took him with her back to David’s room. Carefully, she climbed up beside him and placed a loving hand on his cheek. “I bringed this for you. Teddy always makes me feel better cause he smells like mommy’s perfume and he is the best at cuddlin’.” She tucked the well loved stuffed animal into David's arms and she kissed his head. “I hope he makes you feel better too, daddy.”

Timmy had already gone back down to his game, but Savanna stayed with her father. She even fell asleep for a little while but stirred when David began to show signs of life again. He even took a bite of the toast Timmy made for him. It was soggy from the butter, and ice cold, but he was appreciative.

“Daddy, are you feeling better?” She asked through a yawn. David nodded. He looked like Hell and desperately needed a shower, but at least he was awake and upright. “Thank you for taking such good care of me, princess.” He kissed her head. “Daddy is gonna take a shower and then you, your brother, and I are gonna get something to eat before I take your back to your mom.” David ruffled his daughter’s hair and gave her a reassuring smile. He still felt like death warmed over him, but he knew he had to get out of bed. He had to step up and be the father his children deserved before he lost them to DC entirely. “Go on. You two pick a place to eat and I’ll be out in a couple minutes.” He leaned in and kissed the top of Savanna’s messy hair one more time.

David winced as he got out of bed. Hopefully the extra strength Tylenol he had would get rid of his headache. He wasted enough of his children’s day by staying in bed. He wanted to make it up to them by treating them to dinner...Anywhere they wanted to go.

----------

It took David close to an hour to shower and make himself look presentable. He was still visibly hungover, but he was feeling a little better. When he emerged from the bedroom Timmy and Savanna were coloring quietly together. He watched them for a minute...They were still so young and innocent, but somehow they seemed to be more grown up than he was. These quiet moments together were fleeting and now he understood why Victoria wanted to quit her job as a nurse and focus her time on them. She was an incredible mom raising incredible kids who would change the world someday.

“Daddy, are you better now?” Savanna asked when she noticed him standing there. She lifted her completed masterpiece for him to see. “I drew us.” She beamed proudly. “You, me, and Timmy. We are swimmin’ at the beach by grandma and grandpa Thorne’s house….Just like we used ta do. You’re teachin’ us how ta surf.” Savanna explained. David took the pictures to get a better look. His youngest was very talented. Her art was better than most adults. She definitely inherited her gift from Victoria, as she did most things. Aside from her blue eyes, David wasn’t sure what qualities of his she actually had. “This picture is beautiful, princess. I’ll hang it on the fridge so everyone can see it.” David told her. “You two get your shoes on if you want to go eat.”

Timmy couldn’t hop up fast enough. David wasn’t sure if it was because Timmy was excited to spend time with him or if he was that excited to eat, but it made him chuckle softly. “We wanna go to Dave & Busters, dad. We wanna play games!” The eight year old said enthusiastically. There was a D&B the next town over. David had taken the kids there a couple of times before. Each time they left with their arms full of toys and his wallet a couple hundred dollars lighter. “I just need’a grab somethin’ real quick.” Savanna said once her shoes were on. There hadn’t been a need for weekend bags since David moved into a house closer to Limbo. He had clothes, shoes, etc for them, but there were still items Savvy brought with her whenever she stayed. She couldn’t go anywhere without Teddy or the butterfly blanket she and Victoria made last fall. She quickly stuffed the items in her empty book bag and headed back down to the living room. “Now we can go.” She grinned. David took the bag from her to put in the car and he locked the door behind them as they exited the house.

“Daddy…” A voice piped up from the back seat. “You must be feelin’ much much better. This is the most we seed ya all weekend.” Savanna smiled, but her words broke David’s heart. His kids wanted to spend time with him. He was beginning to realize how selfish he was being by spending their weekends together in bed with a hangover instead of making new memories. “You know what Savanna?” David made eye contact with her through the rear view mirror. “Daddy isn’t completely better, but I promise…” He looked back to her for a second, then to Timmy, They were both watching him with big doe eyes and hanging onto every word he said. “No more staying in bed all day. When you two come to my house, we’re going to have nothing but fun. Scouts honor.” He promised them both.

Fulfilling his promise would take more than just crossing his heart. David knew that. He needed help...He couldn’t get well on his own.

----------

8:00PM

Dinner had run a lot later than anticipated. The kids were supposed to be back at Victoria’s no later than 6, but they were having so much fun and David was trying to make up for lost time with them. He cleared it with Victoria before extending their curfew and by the time he showed up at her house both kids were fast asleep in the back seat of his car. He considered waking them, but decided it would be better if he carried them in. There were some things he needed to talk to Victoria about anyway and they needed their rest.

“We’re in the driveway. I’m gonna need a hand.” David sent in a text to Vic before he shut the engine off and climbed out of the driver’s seat. He figured he’d take Timmy, since he was the heavier of the two, and he would come back to help Victoria with Savanna if the little girl’s dead weight was too much for the brunette to handle on her own. “Sorry we’re late...I just wanted to make tonight a special night for them…” There was more he wasn’t saying, that much was obvious, but he felt it was best to wait until after the children were tucked in to explain himself.

David carried Timothy to his room as carefully and as quietly as he could. The boy’s shoes and glasses were removed once he was placed in his bed. “Goodnight, sport.” David whispered as he kissed Timmy’s head and turned off the light. Victoria was tucking Savanna in, but David made sure he kissed her goodnight as well. He wouldn’t be seeing them for a while...Not until he got the help he desperately needed.

----------

“I wanted to talk to you before I go…” David turned on the porch with his hands in his pockets. He hadn’t been able to make eye contact with Vic until now. The wounds were still too fresh and (despite everything) he still had feelings for her. “I’m going to need you to keep Timmy and Savvy for my next couple of weekends with them.” He could tell she was confused by the way she furrowed her brow. “I need help, Vic...I want to be a better father for them, but I can’t do that without help.” It wasn’t easy for David, aka Mr. Perfect, to admit that he had faults. Especially to Victoria. “I’ve been looking at a couple of 12 step programs...In patient…” He was sweating, but he wasn’t sure if it was from nerves or alcohol withdrawal. “...They deserve a better dad. I can't be that person for them if I keep going down the path I'm on.” David wasn’t sure what else to say. He certainly wasn’t looking for any sympathy, he just wanted Vic to know that his kids meant more to him than anything else in the world. Even more than his reputation and the love he had for his job. “I need to do this for them.” He fumbled with his car keys. “Please tell them that I love them and that I’ll see them as soon as I can.”

David turned to head down the stairs and back towards his car, stopping half-way to speak again. “Our kids are pretty perfect, Vic.... I know I have you to thank for that.” He forced a smile and got in his truck without another word. He had a rehabilitation facility he needed to check into if he planned on fulfilling his promise to his children. Waiting wasn't an option. He had to go tonight.

[phoenix-downer]

Shooting Star

For SoKai Week Day 5 - Childhood times. Day 4′s prompt will come tomorrow instead because I need a little more time to finish it.

“Riku, look! A shooting star!”

Sora scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as his legs could carry him across the bridge and through the Seaside Shack. If he could catch that star, his wish would come true. Or at least that was what the stories said.

He burst through the door and almost lost his balance on the sand. Running barefoot on it was a lot harder than running on the path, but he didn’t care. He was gonna catch that star, no matter what.

“Sora, wait up!” Riku called, racing after him.

“Hurry!” Sora shouted back. “Almost – there!”

He ran across the water’s edge with Riku right behind him. The star shone bright up above them now. It shone so bright Sora had to cover his eyes.

“It’s following us!” he said. And in the next couple of seconds, something really weird happened. There was a bright flash and a loud boom. Sora went flying backwards, right into Riku, and they crashed to the ground with a painful thump.

“Ow…” Riku grumbled.

“Sorry!” Sora sat up and rubbed his head, freeing Riku to sit up, too. It took ages till he could see again, but when he did, his mouth dropped open.

“A girl?”

But that didn’t make any sense. Riku and Tidus and Wakka had all said shooting stars were magic rocks. No one had told him that they really had girls inside of them.

But it was a girl lying on the sand near them. Her hair was red, redder than Selphie’s even. It was as red as the crabs he and Riku liked to catch in the pool by the Secret Place. He didn’t know people could even have hair that color.

Staring at her in wonder, he crawled to her side on his hands and knees. Her eyes were closed, and her face was half buried in the sand. A soft light glowed off the necklace around her neck, but she wasn’t moving.

Frowning, he bent over and waved his hand in her face. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Grandma…” she murmured, and her voice was sad and scared.

“Grandma?” Sora repeated.

“Do you want your grandma?” Riku asked. “We can go look for her for you. What’s her name?”

The girl’s eyes fluttered open. They were kinda blue and kinda purple, like that one color on the rainbow. Indigo? Yeah, that’s what it was called.

No one around here had eyes like that. Maybe she really was a star.

“Are you okay?” Sora asked again. She just looked at him, and her eyes were big and scared. Sora didn’t know why. The beach wasn’t very scary, and he and Riku were just kids. She shouldn’t be scared, really.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sora said, holding out his hand.

“You’re safe,” Riku added. “No one’s gonna hurt you.”

Sora smiled and nodded. His mom always told him it made people happy when he smiled, so maybe it would make the girl happy, too.

She stared at him, and that scared look in her eyes went away. Her hand was shaking, but she took his, and her necklace glowed again. She looked from it to him, and he smiled even bigger.

“See?” he said. “You’re safe.”

She smiled back, and maybe she really was a star, because her smile made him feel all warm inside. But her hand was cold like she’d stuck it in a bucket of ice water. He frowned and rubbed it between his to warm her up.

“Riku, she’s really cold.”

“Hang on, I’ll go get my dad,” Riku said. “Stay here.”

Her eyes followed Riku as he went to the dock and untied his boat.

“It’s okay, he’ll be back,” Sora promised.

She looked up at him again, and she was shivering all over, even though Sora was trying to warm her up.

That wasn’t good. Sora frowned again. He didn’t know what to do. Whenever he was cold, his parents gave him a blanket, but there weren’t any blankets here.

Wait. In the shack there were lots of extra blankets and sleeping bags and tents and camping stuff.

He stood. “Wait here, I’m gonna—”

“Don’t go!” The girl sat up and grabbed his shirt. Sora knew he’d done something wrong because her eyes were sad again.

He didn’t like it when she was sad, so he sat back down and held her hand again.

“Okay, I’ll stay here till Riku’s dad comes.”

“Ri-ku,” the girl said, rubbing sand off her cheek.

“That’s right, Riku. He’s my best friend.” Sora smiled. “And I’m Sora.”

“Sora.” She curled her fingers more tightly around his hand, and her necklace glowed again.

“Yeah. What’s your name?”

She touched her necklace. “Kairi.”

“Kairi,” Sora said, trying the sounds out. “Like the sea.” It was a pretty name, but it didn’t sound very star-like. “Where’s your home?”

“Home?”

“Yeah. Where are you from? You fell out of the sky, so that means you’re from somewhere else, right?”

He’d never seen anyone fall out of the sky before, and he wanted to know where she was from. But her face scrunched up and her eyes watered, and Sora knew he’d said the wrong thing again.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t cry!” But that just made her cry harder.

He scratched his cheek, not really sure what to do. Then he thought of that time when he’d tripped on the road in front of his house. The scrapes on his knees had been scary. They’d hurt so much he couldn’t stand up, and he’d cried till his mom had come out of the house and picked him up and carried him inside to the bathtub.

She’d said all sorts of nice things as she washed his knees and dried them. He’d gotten to wear blue and red Band-Aids after that, and she’d even let him eat ice cream every day till his knees were all better.

He didn’t know why Kairi was sad, but maybe holding her and saying the nice things his mom said to him would help her, too.

He put his arms around her. “It’s okay. I’m here now. I’ll make it better.”

It worked. Kairi stopped crying. He held her like that till Riku came back with his dad and a bunch of other grownups. By then she was asleep and didn’t hear him say goodbye, but that was okay. He could talk to her tomorrow.

As his mom and dad tucked him into bed that night, he asked if all stars had girls inside of them.

“Girls? Oh no. Stars don’t have girls inside of them,” his dad said. His voice was serious but he was grinning.

“Really?” Sora asked. “I thought they were just magic rocks, but then Kairi came out of that shooting star Riku and I saw.”

His mom kissed his forehead and tucked the blankets around him. “Maybe she did.”

“Do you know what stars really are though, Sora?” his dad asked.

“No, what?”

“They’re other worlds,” his mom said, a faraway look in her eyes, her voice the same as when she read him his favorite stories.

“Other worlds?” A picture of a big white and gold castle floating in the sky flickered through his head, but then it was gone.

She nodded. “At least that’s what the stories say. Remember the one I told you about your name?”

Oh, that was one of his favorites. He always loved it when his mom told him that story.

“Yeah,” he said. “You said all the worlds share the same sky. You named me after that story, right?”

His mom smiled. “That’s right.”

Something was still kinda bugging him, so he decided to ask about it. “If Kairi came from a falling star… then does that mean… her world fell, too?”

His mom and dad looked at each other, and it was a long time before his dad said something.

“We don’t know what happened to Kairi. But we do know she needs friends. Will you be her friend, Sora?”

“Sure.”

He didn’t tell them, because if you told anyone your wish, it wouldn’t come true. But what he’d wished for when he saw the shooting star that night was a friend. He and Riku were best friends, but he wanted another friend he could play with when Riku was sick or busy and when Tidus and Wakka and Selphie were playing their own games.

And Kairi did become his friend. As the weeks went by, she played with him and Riku more and more. The sad look left her eyes, and the day she smiled again, Sora smiled, too.

Before long he had trouble remembering what life was like without her. He didn’t want to, either, because now he knew magic was real. It was real and it had red hair and indigo eyes and a big smile.

As the years passed and they grew older and he realized how much he didn’t know about the worlds, about reality, about Kingdom Hearts, he held onto one truth:

Kairi’s heart might have sought the light in his the day Radiant Garden had fallen, but it was in his own darkest moments, his lowest of lows, that she shone most brilliantly.

She was the shooting star that lit up the night sky, after all.

Just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who has liked and reblogged my stories for SoKai Week! I really appreciate it!

[allthelittlethingsihavetosa-blog]

#ItsJustAFleshWound {w/@HardGuytokill}

Piper   ::I looked over the Jones and Warners notes on files, they lacked so many things. Like what was actually asked and to who. Where her parents were, the fact that the man they were talking to was actual Miranda’s step father, so her real dad was out there somewhere with her maybe. Who knows, no one had questioned him. Had they bothered to look at up her mothers name they would have found previous cases of abuse and would have learned that her grandmother had custody. That was more than likely where she was. My eyes rolled instantly as I picked up the phone and dialed out her number, we were on speaking terms but Gwen and I weren’t friends. It rang one to many times for my liking and when she did answer her voice gave way more than she wanted it too::

Hey Gwen, It’s Piper.  I’m just calling to check in on you and Miranda, you two doing alright? Apparently there has been some trouble with her parents again and I’m  just making sure she’s ok.  ::There was a long, long pause before she spoke again, her voice trembling but still firm. “We’re fine, Piper, just came in from playing outside so please excuse my breathlessness.” She even chuckled nervously, anything to distract me from the truth, but I couldn’t just charge in because my gut told me something was off. “Miranda is doing fine, we both are. She’s been asking about you a lot…” The phone hit the floor and someone cried out NO before it cut off entirely. That was all the proof I needed before I was on my feet, already tucking my gun into it’s holster and reaching out for my cell to call Riggs for backup. I popped into the Chiefs office on my way out to give him the heads up to send back up:: I’ll need it, but keep them a block away, he sees any sign of them and everyone in that house is dead. I’ll head in with Riggs, see how far I can get, if I can’t get far I’ll just call and leave the line open. That will be the sign to send everything in. Don’t do /anything/ until then.

One look from the Chief Rowland and I knew he both hated and accepted what I had said, I didn’t wait long enough to hear any complaints he had to say, Anger was already coursing through my small frame as my fingers flexed over the wheel, Riggs was meeting me there. He was closer than I was, he was meeting with some contact getting information on another case we were working on. It seemed to be his thing lately to get info on the seeder side of things and I wasn’t about to deter him from that especially when his info was proving positive.

Riggs. -This was my new routine drowning my memories in booze and feelings in random women, while dodging my partners questions with bullshit like I was getting intel on the gangs shipments of drugs or more. I hated that I was lying to her. Hated that I was putting her life in danger every time we went out but that was just the way it was. She knew parts of my life but she didn’t know all of it, I kept it that way so she couldn’t give me that look that my father in law gave me. The one that was filled with pity and regret for allowing his daughter to marry me. I slammed back another shot, waving the glass at the gorgeous blonde behind the bar- Another beautiful. -FUCK. - Maybe hold off on that. But I would like your number for after this is finished, what time do you get off? -She grinned, I leaned over the bar and smirked sliding my card across the bar- Call me, I’ll get you off after you’re finished you’re finished your shift. I’ll even use my cuffs. - One wink later she tucked that card in her bra and I was out the door towards my car to drown myself in some cologne. A little visine to the the eyes and Piper would never be the wiser when I arrived at our meeting spot. Why couldn’t this just be an easy day. I deserved it, didn’t I?-

Piper: ::I parked about a block away then waited for Riggs to arrive, I was already wearing my bullet proof vest making sure that my weapons were loaded. I tucked two back up cartridges into my back pockets just in case then stood there waiting as always for my “partner”. Ten bucks said he was at some bar drowning whatever issues he had to whoever would listen instead of doing the same to the people who wanted to help him most. I groaned loudly. There were so many of us that wanted to help him but he never let us in close enough. I shook my head focusing again on the case, my phone held the layout of the house, it was simple. Once inside you walked into the living room, on the left was a wall and behind that was the kitchen. If you continued about twenty steps you turn you hit the hallway continue down there you would pass Miranda's room first and then her Grandma’s. Gwen usually stayed on the couch when she stayed over so I was willing to bet money that was were they were gathered right now. Riggs and I would have to go in the back and work our way forward to the living room.

A smoke bomb would just cause chaos, which of course Riggs would love but someone would end up shot and casualties were not an option. Not even to Miranda’s father. Jason, he was nothing short of a jackass abuser. He spent more time in jail then he did out of it. Coming out more dangerous every time he came out of the system, whatever he had going through his mind this time wasn’t good. Maybe it was drugs? Money? Fuck, money for drugs? I just needed this to go smoothly. Just as I was pulling my hair up into a ponytail Riggs pulled up behind me, pulling off his shades as he made his way over::

Riggs:   -Pulling the car to a stop I admired how gorgeous my partner really was in that moment, how hadn’t someone taken advantage of that? She caught me, fuck. How she went from a beaut to a staring demon surprised me. I got out and made my way over, chuckling- You really think Jason is this fuckin’ dumb, Pipes? Stupid enough to put his daughter in danger? He knows you’d find him of all people, you’ve been protectin’ that girl since birth. -I watched her body tense even her jaw as she gazed out at the house, muttering something about men under her breath- I’m just askin’ is all. How we goin’ in?

Piper: ::Sometimes Riggs astounded me, why he always had to question everything made it really hard not to shoot him in the foot. So very fucking hard.:: Why? I have no clue but we are here for a reason, Riggs, maybe he wants money? Drugs or worse. I don't know. That’s why we are going in quiet. You really think having the whole station here would be a good idea? ::I threw up my hands in sheer anger, I hated when I was questioned, especially when I knew I was doing the right thing.:: We are going in the back, you’ll wait five minutes before coming in quietly behind me. Just give me enough time to talk to Jason and see if I can get him off the edge before you come charging in ok? You think you can handle that? And don’t think I can’t smell the booze, Riggs, I need you to focus. Please. ::I practically begged the last word, he was the only backup I had, really the only person I really trusted within the force right now. I let my eyes close so I could collect myself before I closed the trunk and opened them enough to find his.:: You ready?

Riggs:: -She was pissed. It was more than plastered all over her face it was now showing in her actions and words. I fucked this up. Listening was my only option now.- Follow in five minutes after you. If I hear anythin’ that leads me ta thinkin’ any of y'all are in danger I’m comin’ in, Piper. Five minutes or not. -She shot me a look that would have killed if it could but she understood what I was saying, she knew the the rules. She wasn’t about to risk shit.  We made our way down towards the house, creeping along the bushes that lined the house until we were in the backyard. All seemed relatively quiet except for the yelling coming from the living room. Jason was screaming up a storm, smacking someone around that was for sure judging by Miranda’s cries to stop. At least he hadn’t made it to her yet.- You  have 3 minutes, Hart. That’s all I’m givin’ ya

Piper:: ::My heart sank the second I hear the screams mixed with Miranda’s cries, it was already to late for somethings. Too late to stop him from beating someone I wagered was Gwen.:: Wait here, I’ll take the three then come in. Just don’t charge Riggs for the love of god. ::I flashed him a glare before I gave the handle a turn and stepped him, my gun already drawn. Making my way around the house was made easy by the numerous visits I had made to Miranda and her grandmother, we’d made a connection when Gwen was arrested the first time and the little girl would call whenever she was in trouble. Trouble being anything from it’s hot to I can’t find my grandma. This is why I hated that she was in this situation. My back slid along the wall until the scene came into view. Jason had Gwen held up by her hair both her eyes a bright almost shining purple, lip bloodied and swelling. Grandma’s had been obviously been hit as well but she was now curled up in the corner beside Miranda. Poor girl had tears streaming down her cheek, sometime during this all she had peed her pants and was desperately trying to hide it. I was made the second she saw my face::

“PIPER” ::Miranda stood up to run and that’s when Jason pointed his gun her way, instantly grandma grabbed her leg and pulled her back::

{She moves and I will end her, Piper, without a second thought} “NO” ::Screamed Gwen trying anything to get loose now, she bit and clawed at any part of him she could.::

Come on, Jason, what the fuck? This isn’t you. You’ve never put her life on the line before, why now? ::I kept my gun trained on him while slowly moving myself between Miranda, grandma and himself:: What gives? Tell me and maybe we can talk this out. You know me, know I would do anything to help your kid and family. So talk to me. Tell me what’s happening. ::He paused a moment glancing down at Gwen, I didn’t know what he was thinking or what was going on in his mind just that he was still. My eyes wavered between his movements and the gun, then suddenly it dropped, the butt of his gun hitting his ex in the head. She was down in an instant. Still breathing but unconscious. There was a shrill, high pitched scream to my left:: “MOMMA”

JASON! I’ve given you a chance ::I stepped in closer completely forgetting about Riggs:: Put down the gun now.

{What are you going to do, Detective, shoot me in front of my kid? You really want to traumatize her further? You’re too soft for that shit. That’s the whole problem with you bitches. Too fucking soft. Gwen was a fucking bitch, couldn’t handle any fucking thing. She owed me money, owed the gang money and she blew us off to visit the kid. She was supposed to ask my mom for money, was supposed to meet up last night with it, She didn’t . She knew what would happen. Miranda will make a lot of fucking money for us.}

::I gasped, shaking my fucking head at what I was hearing. I stepped in one step closer unsure if I could keep myself from slapping this asshole with my own fucking gun:: You are ..there are no words for scum like you. Drop the gun, get down on your knees and put your hands on your hea…

Riggs: -I heard what was happening before I even went in, fucking Hart. She had no control before she even went in. Jason had it all. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.Now she needed me to save her. I peek around the corner to see Gwen down, Miranda in her grandmas grasp and Piper in a full showdown with Jason. This was going to end one way and it wasn’t with my partner getting injured, it was with the perp getting one in the chest. At least if things went my way. I walked into the room slowly, neither seemed to notice until I called out- On your six, Hart. Jason I’d listen to her, I can take you out right here and now. Drop it. -He only seemed to grin darkly, Piper shifted a single inch and took two shots. One ripped through her side while the other buried itself in her abdomen. She turned to look at me before her hands covered the wounds, next she dropped to the floor. Miranda was in hysterics- Fuck. -This time there was no second thought, Jason knew it was over he dropped the gun and got down on his knees and instantly his hands were lifting to settle behind his head. I didn’t give two shits. I shot before he had his secondhand lifted, I kicked him back watching as he began to bleed out, the put the gun back in his palm.

Next came calling in the calvary- I need an ambulance to this location, Harts down. Suspects down. I repeat. I need an ambulance for Hart. ASAP.  -I was at her side before I finished, adding pressure to her wounds- Come on, Piper, you won’t give up this easy darlin’. I know you got some fight in you. -I barely heard what she said as people began bursting through the door- “I said…..don..t….bust in -She blinked a few more times and we lost her. The paramedics pushed me out of the way yammering about iv’s and shit I didn’t understand, soon enough they were gone with her in tow. While half the squad watched all wondering whether she would make it or not but we all knew it would heaven or hell would have a hell of a fight on their hands. She wasn’t one to go down easily-

[dreamlimmie-archive]

stars & abandoned (2019, 2020)

-- stars --

Caesar wasn’t prepared for what he found. No knowledge in his mind’s world could have conjured up something like this. To think that this would happen, or to even think about it at all was taboo. So he kept it to himself.

As he and his four-year-old brother Busby were playing outside in the backyard, their red ball flew across them and into the bushes.

“I’ll get it!” Caesar called.

He ran past his mother’s garden into the thick brush. It scared him a little. There were no lights in there; nothing large and heavy like the lamps that hung from the thing he knew as his heavens.

He dug around, searching left and right to find his ball. What he found instead made him gasp.

How could that be? He moved closer to get a better look.

Caesar’s eyes weren’t lying. He really saw what he saw. In a protective cover that wrapped around the dome he lived in was a tear. The very bottom was ripped in half with one flap blowing in the wind, exposing something sitting outside. He didn’t see much other than an obsidian ground and lava that dared to break in. He turned to the right, found his ball, then left.

“What took you so long?” Busby asked. He already left to stand by the patio door as his mother called him in for dinner.

“Sorry.”

Caesar and Busby headed indoors and ate their dinner, having the usual conversation at the table.

How was school? It was fine. What did you learn? Nothing much.

“Nothing much?” Caesar’s strict father pulled his glasses off and placed them on the table. He frowned as he waited for his son to answer, but he was in another realm.

What was outside the dome? He didn’t even know there was an outside to begin with. He’d only heard of it whenever his grandparents visited. Something about the world setting on fire. It all sounded like fiction to him, and his parents waved it off as such.

“Caesar,” his father spoke again. “What are you staring off into space for?”

“Oh,” he dropped his elbows off the table. “Sorry, I’m kinda tired.”

“Maybe you should rest,” his mother said.

“Yeah.”

And that was that. Caesar washed his plate and rushed upstairs, quietly shutting the door behind him. He gazed out the window to where the tear was, but the bushes blocked it. It was tiny, after all. Only at twelve years old, he still had a lot of growing to do. Only he and his brother could fit into those bushes and see through that hole. He would have to go back outside.

So he waited. He sat at his desk and tried to do his homework, but he couldn’t focus. Thoughts of lava and boiling grounds flashed through his mind. He even mistakenly wrote a word down as “lava” then erased it. Nobody could know that he knew. And he knew that because of how hushed those conversations he heard were. Like the adults didn’t want him to know or hear about it. And when he asked about it, they would just sigh and ignore him. Not even a simple ‘you’ll know when you’re older.’

So he kept it to himself… and he waited some more.

After three hours of sitting at his desk and staring at the wall, Busby and his parents were in bed and fast asleep. He snuck outside through the patio door and dove back into the bushes. There was no mistake. What he had seen earlier was not a hallucination. It wasn’t him just going a little wild from being afraid of the dark. It was there. The tear in the protective cover that wrapped around the dome he lived in. He approached it. He saw the obsidian ground and the lava again, but that wasn’t enough for him. He lifted the flap up and stuck his face against the dome glass.

He gaped and covered his mouth with both hands. Leading up a trail of lava stood a volcano, leaking and threatening to erupt. Then he gazed up. He found the true show of the night.

Caesar wasn’t sure how to react. He had heard of the volcanos. He’d heard of the things that contributed to the ruining of his planet. And what he heard of the world setting on fire was confirmed. But he never heard of something like this. Twinkling orbs illuminated the red heavens. It was nothing like the dark dome with heavy lamps hanging from its ceiling. No, this was natural. This was nature. It was everything he had never experienced. And he desperately wanted to know what those were called. The orbs. He had heard that the heavens were called the ‘sky’ once. Maybe that was what his hushed grandparents referred to. But he never heard the word for those precious twinkles. So he gave them a name himself.

The Lights.

He loved the Lights. And an unspeakable desire lurked closer to him, but he pushed it away. No. He couldn’t think like that. Such thoughts would get him in trouble at best, killed at worst. But how nice would it be to go out and touch the Lights? With enough ladders, he could touch the lamps. But that wasn’t as exciting. It almost looked like the Lights were too far for him to graze. And that fueled his craving. Before he could let it consume him, a noise came from the lawn next door. Someone walked through, crunching the leaves underneath. He couldn’t get found out, so he rushed out trying to make as little noise as possible in the bush.

Caesar looked up at the windows of his house and saw them covered. Good. No one had woken up or noticed he was gone. He ran back into the house and threw himself under his covers, thoughts rumbling in his mind. That night, he finally realized the difference between the dome and real Estia.

There are the lamps, and then there are the Lights.

☆

Caesar let his arm fly around a canvas as he hurried to paint the sky. He didn't have much time in painting class and he wanted to capture that moment while it was still fresh in his thoughts.

“What are you drawing, Caesar?” Dempsey asked. He sat next to Caesar in each class everyday. “A bunch of scribbles won't get you a good grade. We're big kids now.”

He sighed and ignored him. If only Dempsey knew what he saw, he would've kept his mouth shut; and probably his distance, too. But it was his secret. There was no way he would tell anyone--not even his best friend--about this. He got lost in his art when it came time to paint the Lights. He carefully placed each one where he thought he had seen them. He wondered if he should draw the volcano, too.

Caesar reached for the brown paint and began the outline of his volcano. He drifted the brush downward, adding the orange lava. He then moved to place the small red flecks--

“What in Jerlin's Dawn are you doing, Caesar?!”

He froze. The brush grazed the canvas. He couldn't look behind him. He had never seen Mr. Brimsy angry before. Grumpy, yes. And if his ugly face said anything, he was sure his teacher was a monster when mad.

“I said, what are you doing?!” Mr. Brimsy now faced him. He was right. He'd never seen someone so livid. His nose scrunched to his eyes and a pink flush rose to his ears. “Answer me!”

Caesar swallowed. “I'm painting. Just like you asked, Mr. Brimsy.”

“Not that! Your painting, Caesar. Where in Estia have you seen this?”

“Nowhere, Sir. It was in my dream last night.”

“I am calling your parents this instant. And you will be staying in my class for lunch.”

Now Caesar's fear flared. Sprinkles of anxiety flowed in, just like the specks in the lava. He was sure to erupt any moment. He had to act quick.

"What did I do wrong? It was just a dream! I don't even know what this is."

“I will not tell you what this is in front of the class. But it is very inappropriate. You should not be seeing anything like this.”

“It was a dream.” Now Caesar was really hoping Mr. Brimsy would disappear. How would his parents react to this?

“You don't dream about things you've never seen.”

Caesar swallowed. He had seen through his lie. But what did he know? He hasn't seen the hole in the dome cover. Has he? He has no proof.

“We dream of unicorns and we’ve never seen them before.”

But his words were for naught. Mr. Brimsy had already stomped away to pick up a phone, flinging it off the desk so hard, as if it had been glued together.

The class stared at him as he gripped his jeans and watched Mr. Brimsy punch in a phone number.

☆

“We received a call from the school,” Caesar's dad said. He had just gotten back home and dropped his backpack on his bed when his father appeared behind him.

“You scared me!” He cried.

“What was this about an inappropriate painting?”

He hesitated. The canvas sat tucked in between his arms, the Lights and volcano dug into his chest.

“I don't know. I--”

Before he could answer, his mother rushed in. She wore the same confused expression.

“Caesar! How do you know?”

“Know about what?”

He knew he had to do anything to keep his secret. Even if it meant lying to his parents for the first time in years.

“Show us the painting.” His father pointed to the canvas.

He knew there was no way out of this. Caesar thought of a hundred new lies to tell as he uncovered his art. But he would never tell them about the hole he found.

His parents exchanged a confused glance for a second, and Caesar thought he got out free. Maybe they've never seen it in person. But then his mother gasped.

“Where have you seen this?!”

“In a dream!” Caesar shouted back. “That's what I told Mr. Brimsy but he didn't believe me.”

“I'm not sure I believe you either,” his father folded his arms. “How can you dream about something you've never seen?”

“That's what he said too,” Caesar turned to set his painting down by his bed. “I don't know. We've never seen unicorns but we dream about them. I just remember Grandma and Grandpa talking about the outside world, so I must've dreamed about what they said.”

“I knew we shouldn't have invited my parents over, Iori. Now they've stuck weird ideas into his head...” His mother muttered, but Caesar heard it even over the sound of his heart pounding.

“Darling, there's no such thing as the outside world. That's just a tale your grandparents told you to get your creativity sparking... And I see it already has... You should be proud of your gorgeous painting. But forget about there being a world outside of here. Jerlin's Dawn is the only place in Estia, okay?”

But I saw it...

“So then why did you ask me ‘how did you know?’ What did you mean, Mom?”

Her jaw hung open for a second before she smiled. Caesar's father didn't look pleased at all, though.

“Nothing. I thought your teacher was talking about something else.”

“I already know where babies come from.” It embarrassed him to say that, but at least the topic had changed. He wasn't in trouble, and they still didn't know.

“Right. I forgot.” She grinned like it was all just a joke and like she was glad they changed the subject, too. “Well, you should do your homework now. I'll call you down when dinner is ready.” She left his room quickly, but his father stayed for a moment.

“Who did you say was your art teacher? Mr. Brimsy?”

“Yes.”

“Old people are quite odd, aren't they?”

No.

“Yeah.”

No, they weren't.

They knew so much more than Caesar did. They must've even seen the outside world... lived in it. He couldn't imagine it. Not with all that lava on the ground. He knew then that there was a reason he lived in a dome. And he knew that his eyes weren't lying. They were more honest than his parents. He knew what he saw, and he was going to see it again that night.

☆

Caesar gazed over his shoulder at the window of his parents' bedroom. Their cream colored blinds shown under the heavy lamps. He wondered what they would’ve looked like under the Lights.

The bush he had jogged toward last evening stood in front of him over the freshly mown lawn.

This night, he sprinted for it. The thirst to see those Lights again overcame him. And to see that gorgeous volcano again. To feel like he lived on a real planet.

He stretched around for the flap, heart sinking when he couldn’t find it. What happened? Did someone find it and tape it back? Pushing himself forward with his arms, he drew closer to the edge of the dome.

Caesar sighed with relief when he found the slight crack of light coming through. The cut had just been pushed back by the wind. He pulled it up and peeked through again, gazing out.

And then up.

And then he screamed.

Caesar threw the flap back. He bruised himself as he thrashed his arms backward, hitting them against the dome.

How?! What in Jerlin’s Dawn was that…? It couldn’t be… That would go against everything he had known. Seeing the Lights was one thing… but this was something completely different.

Caesar had grown up thinking that the edge of the dome was the edge of the universe. He couldn’t go past it because there simply wasn’t anything beyond what he knew. That was it. That was the end of the universe. And all of the people in Jerlin’s Dawn were everyone that existed in the existence of existence. But this…

He swallowed a frightened lump and inched closer. Maybe his eyes had been lying to him that time. After all, excitement did make him see things. He was sure that when he lifted the flap, what he saw would be gone.

But it wasn’t.

And his eyes weren’t lying.

Four feet away from Caesar’s face stood a person. A boy, no more than a year older than him. He looked so different from everyone he met. This boy had no shirt, and wore a piece of leather around his waist that reached his knees. Dirt and scars scattered across his face and arms. His feet sunk into the lava. Its steam rose into the air; up to the Lights.

Caesar’s eyes cautiously moved up to look at the boy’s face. He wore the same confusion. Deep auburn hair fell over a golden brown face and matching eyes. His hands balled into fists, as if he’d just gotten out of a fight with someone. Was he mad at Caesar for pulling back so suddenly?

Not like I care. He didn’t know anything about his boy, just what he looked like. But the way he stared back at him kept him from looking away. They were shocked by each other’s existence.

Caesar broke the awkward staring contest by glancing over at the volcanos and the Lights. It was what he was there for. But he couldn’t focus on them. They weren’t as enticing as they had been last night.

He looked back at the boy, who still studied him. A minute passed before the stranger crossed his arms over his chest, fists still tightened. He bowed his head and closed his eyes. Caesar couldn’t tell what that gesture was supposed to be, but he felt it was something very respectful.

The boy opened his eyes again, pursed his lips, then turned around to walk away. His feet dipped in and out of the lava with ease, but they were blackened and chipped. Caesar had only read about lava in books he stole from his parents’ room when they were at work during summer vacation. All he knew is it was hot. Really hot. Hot enough to kill someone. And yet this boy ambled through it like it was a soft carpet.

He shook his head and threw the flap back down, then sat up and stared at the dome. He didn’t get what he had come for that night. Instead, it was something more wondrous. A person… Life outside of the dome. Caesar started to suspect that the Lights and the volcanos weren’t the universe. Instead, he was on the same planet as them. And he was on the same planet as another boy who existed outside of Jerlin’s Dawn.

Caesar stood and pushed through the bushes, earning some cuts from the thorns. He gazed at them proudly. They looked almost like the scars that boy had.

☆

The next day in writing class, he couldn't hold himself back. Caesar knew that he shouldn't allow history to repeat itself, but Mrs. Keeler was much nicer and understanding than Mr. Brimsy. She never called anyone's parents no matter what vile things they did. He felt bad to take advantage of her kindness like that, but he couldn't stop himself.

Just like the brush on canvas, his pencil drove over the lined paper like a chased car. He wrote and wrote and wrote about a boy who escaped the dome. About a boy who found freedom. About a boy who met his new best friend outside the dome.

He knew that Mrs. Keeler would read their stories during lunch, but he wasn't worried at all. No one would know. Just him and his writing teacher. He ended the story with the boy and his best friend running off into the woods. Caesar had no idea if there were any forest areas out past the dome. Probably not. But he didn't care. All he cared about was escaping that dome and running off to wherever with that boy from last night.

He knew nothing about him. And yet he knew everything. He wrote his last sentence in time for the lunch bell, slapped the paper down on Mrs. Keeler's desk, and ran ahead to catch up with Dempsey.

“What did you write about?” His friend asked.

“None of your business.”

Dempsey rolled his eyes. “I wrote about construction workers who find a lot of gold under the ground and then everyone in Jerlin's Dawn becomes super rich.”

Caesar knew he had to go along with what he used to believe. After the incident in Mr. Brimsy's class, Dempsey looked at him in all sorts of weird ways.

“Haven't we already found everything there is to find underground?”

“Whatever. It's just a fiction story. It'd be awesome if it were real though, right?”

“I guess,” Caesar's shoulders slumped. He couldn't care less if officials found a monster underground. He wanted to see what was out, not in.

Ten minutes into his lunch, the principal's voice boomed through the overhead speaker.

“Caesar Vi, please meet with Mrs. Keeler. Caesar Vi, please go to Mrs. Keeler's room.”

Dempsey dropped his sandwich. “What did you do now, man?”

Caesar shrugged and lied. “I don't know.”

He cautiously exited the lunchroom, trying not to grab any attention from his classmates. But most of them had already turned to stare at him.

Mrs. Keeler sat on her desk with his paper on her lap. She gazed up with concern when the door swung open.

“Caesar?” She murmured.

“What's wrong?”

He knew obviously what was wrong, but he didn't expect Mrs. Keeler to see it as wrong. Not to the point of getting called by the principal.

“Your paper, darling. It's not wrong... Well, I'm not sure how to put this. Your writing was incredible. I felt as you did. You made me feel the anguish of being trapped. But that's what made me worried. Is this how you truly feel, Caesar?” Her voice was soft and genuine, unlike Mr. Brimsy's threatening tone. It made him want to tell the truth. At least, almost all of it.

“Don't you think it's weird that people say there's nothing outside of this city? That sounds like a lie.”

“I suppose you have a point. But isn't Jerlin's Dawn where you want to be? All of your friends and family are here.”

Caesar didn't say anything. He saw by Mrs. Keeler's stare that it may have been better to lie than to stay silent.

“I'm sorry I bothered you while you were eating. You can go back to lunch now. See you tomorrow.”

Her voice had gone from kind and understanding to aloof and almost disappointed. As if he had betrayed her. And in a way, he guessed that he did.

Mrs. Keeler must have thought Caesar didn't care about her or about anyone in Jerlin's Dawn. That wasn't true. Not entirely. He just wanted to be free, that was all.

But what he didn't yet realize was that leaving the dome would mean never returning.

☆

Caesar had it with everyone. He was done with his mom and dad who acted like everything in the world was fine. He was done with Dempsey and how obnoxious he was about the whole situation. Why was he even friends with him? Dempsey wasn't even nice.

He stomped his way to the bushes that night again, ready to escape the dome even if just by sight.

Caesar pulled up the tear, half-expecting to see the boy nearby. He screamed and bumped his nose against the dome when he found a face pressed against the glass, staring at him with big brown eyes. The boy was there, alright, and he had been waiting.

He couldn’t hear it, but he saw the boy shut his eyes tightly and let out a long laugh. They smiled at each other for a while, like they’d been friends since the beginning of time.

Caesar felt awkward staring at him, so he looked around, and the boy followed his gaze.

He looked at the Lights--the beautiful globes that led to places he couldn't even imagine. He looked at the volcano--the thing he'd only read about in a book once, one his parents forbade him to read.

As Caesar pressed his face and hands against the glass, the boy reached over and “touched” his hand with Caesar's.

He gazed down, and something swirled in his stomach. Caesar had never felt anything like this before. He'd never felt so close to anyone before. Not to Busby or Dempsey. Not to his mother or father. Not to his playing cards or baby blankets or framed autograph from his favorite baseball player. It was like the suffocating world behind him evaporated and he only knew that boy. He didn’t even know the volcanos or the Lights. Just him.

He felt like he knew his name, his past, how he loved his parents and they loved him just as much, how he sought adventure and kissed any of those odd creatures that roamed the world outside…

The boy pulled his hand back and stood. Caesar pouted. He didn't want their moment to end so quickly. But the boy smiled at him again and did that same gesture from last night, except this time he didn't turn around and leave immediately. He crouched back down to place his hand where Caesar's was on the other side, and gave a short nod. After that, he left.

It was like he knew how Caesar felt trapped. But the boy didn't pity him. It looked like he understood.

Caesar gazed out once more at the fascinating sight before standing.

He knew what he'd bring with him the next night. There was something he wanted to show the boy.

☆

The day came and went, with Caesar wanting to tell somebody about everything he knew. Busby was too young to understand, and even if he could, he'd probably tell their parents. Caesar decided he didn't want to be friends with Dempsey anymore, so he was definitely out of the question. He thought about Mrs. Keeler, but she glanced at him that day with a pain in her eyes that made him feel like a villain.

Caesar was all alone in the dome. Not in the world, but certainly in the place he once thought was the universe.

He shuffled out of his boots that afternoon and laid in bed until evening.

His father popped into his room, pausing at the sight of his son staring at the ceiling with lifeless eyes.

“Dinner's ready, Caesar.”

“I have homework,” he replied. His monotonous voice made his father hesitate again.

“You're not hungry? Mom's making your favorite tonight.”

“No.”

“Well… I'll let her know.”

Caesar wanted to stop him, because he knew what would be coming next. He wasn't in the mood for it.

And he was right.

His mother burst into the room and ran to his side. “What's gotten into you, Caesar? Did something happen at school? Was anyone mean to you today?”

“Nothing,” he turned to his side to break away from her scrutiny. “Just don't feel well today.”

“If you're sick, I'll bring you some medicine and make you soup.”

He couldn't take his mom's constant attention. He knew that some kids starved for it, but his mother hadn't always been like that. Ever since Mr. Brimsy's call, she'd been hounding him and treating him like she treated Busby--like a baby.

“I'm not sick. I just wanna be alone right now.”

“Alright,” she said with that same disappointment in her voice as Mrs. Keeler.

Caesar shut his eyes tight and curled into his blanket. Finding that tear was the worst the that had ever happened to him. Ever since he changed, so did everyone else. He didn't want to disappoint anyone anymore.

But it had also been the best thing. How could he live his life thinking the dome was his everything? He couldn't. He thought about a miserable life, still being friends with Dempsey, then marrying someone who wasn't even right for him because he thought all the people in Jerlin's Dawn were the only people. It was terrible. It was ugly. And he'd do anything to get out.

The night passed and he checked his clock. It was the same time as usual. He tiptoed to his closet and rummaged through, finding the painting he'd buried out of fear.

Caesar scurried out of the back door, his heart leaping with joy. It was the first time that day he'd felt any sort of contentment.

He moved through the bushes, getting better and better every night at not hurting himself, and positioned his painting on his knees as he sat on them.

He threw open the flap and waited.

Nothing.

No hand, no toes in the view.

Nothing.

Caesar moved to look through and found no one. The boy hadn't arrived that night. Was he just too early? No. Caesar always left at the same time. Maybe the boy was at home sleeping.

Maybe he decided he didn't like Caesar anymore.

No… That couldn't be. But it didn't matter. Now, it was Caesar's turn to be disappointed. He closed the flap and crawled away, not bothering to gape at the Lights he loved so much.

Caesar laid back in bed, wondering where that boy was. He squeezed his head when the most morbid thought crossed his mind. What if he died? No. He couldn't have. Caesar told his head to shut up, but it didn't. And he didn't sleep that night.

☆

The next night, the boy wasn't there.

Nor the next night, or the one after that.

Days turned to weeks to months to years.

Caesar walked home from his first day of senior year, and gazed out into the world. Busby had already started school, and his parents were at work, so that afternoon was his and only his.

The boy never returned, and even five years later, Caesar thought about him every night. But he learned to look at the outside again without expectations. Just enjoyment. He loved this new thing that was just like a Light, but so much bigger. It was red, matching the color of the heavens--the sky. And he liked the little drops of water that fell from time to time, causing steam to rise in the lava.

Caesar wasn't sure of a lot of things at just seventeen. But he was sure of something. The dome was just his temporary home, and he'd step out one day.

-- abandoned --

Caesar Vi was stuck at a crossroads. Flowers blossomed on one side, his family welcoming him with open arms and wide smiles. On the other, dead, whispering trees tempted him to a promised hell.

As his homeroom teacher Mr. Emerson droned on about the upcoming deadline, it hit him. Ticking bombs armed themselves around his body, swelling him. He froze. What would become of him if he moved forward?

Mr. Emerson looked pointedly in his direction and it was like the final split second where one realizes everything is over and the loud honking of a truck approaches.

The only thing worse than murder was this.

“As you all know, this project will be what determines whether or not you get into university. It doesn’t have to be related to the field you want to study, just as long as you can demonstrate to the deans that you are capable of accomplishing great things.”

Some students exchanged smug grins, certain their projects would be the best. Everyone liked Mr. Emerson. Encouraging teachers came by rarely. He wanted the best for all his students, but Caesar knew that sentiment didn’t extend to him.

It wasn’t until his final school year that he realized he was being watched. Every corner he turned, teachers, substitutes, and the principal would quickly twist their gazes away from him.

“You seriously didn’t notice until now?” his friend Dempsey had asked him at lunch one day.

Caesar murmured a weak “no” as he caught a lunch lady scrutinizing him.

“It’s been years, Caesar. Remember the painting?”

Of course he remembered the painting. And the story he wrote. And the angry, disappointed gazes from his parents.

And he was doing it again.

Homeroom teachers would faint with happiness if a student turned in a full-length novel as their final project. Such a feat was a huge deal in Jerlin’s Dawn. Only those who dedicated their lives to writing ever accomplished it.

It was also what could potentially ruin Caesar. But he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t just scrap the three hundred pages he had poured months into. There was nothing else he cared enough to do. No intricate poster boards, murals, or research papers.

Handwritten paragraphs of mountains, lights, red skies, rocky grounds, and boys with shimmering brown eyes flooded Caesar’s notebook.

His routine never changed. Every night, he'd visit the widening gap in the dome and watch the bright orbs dance around.

The scene swirled in his mind when the world around him turned off—when Jerlin’s Dawn was but a morning cartoon dancing past closed eyes.

“What’s got you out of it?” The sound of Caesar’s grandfather Bouwen snapped him back to the dinner table. His younger cousins laughed and whispered. Caesar’s always in another dimension.

“Quiet,” Aunt Marise snapped. Her scowl turned to concern when she faced Caesar. “I’m sorry about those three. I don’t know where they learned to be so rude.”

Caesar shook his head and forced a smile. “I’m just thinking about my final project. It’s due next week.”

“That’s right. You’re graduating soon. Are you almost done with it?”

He hesitated. That story would never truly be complete. Caesar knew about the world outside the dome, but he didn’t know how it felt. What was it like? Hot? Cold? How did it feel to fall asleep under those lights? Were the people out there kind? Would they even understand him?

“Books are hard to write,” Caesar said. “But I think I’ll be done in time.”

“Would you like to see the library?” Bouwen set his fork down.

“That boy can’t go in there,” Caesar’s grandmother Renaya muttered.

“No, I insist. A good writer has to be a good reader.”

Renaya stood, Aunt Marise by her side with a stack of plates. “I want nothing to do with this. You know it’s wrong.”

Caesar furrowed his brow. “What is?”

The old man beckoned him. He followed, leaving his untouched dinner behind. Bouwen fished a keychain from his pocket, and unlocked a door leading to the basement.

Rows of bookshelves lined the walls. A tiny lamp on a desk dimly lit the library. Caesar’s breath caught in his throat. There was no way this many books existed in Jerlin’s Dawn. Not even his school had a library.

“Where did you get all of these?”

Bouwen matched Caesar’s gape with childlike excitement gleaming in his eyes.

“I’ve been collecting books since I was a kid,” he said.

Caesar grazed the spines, dust flying off and staining his fingertips. He landed on a slim book with the title “Stars and Constellations”.

“What do these words mean?”

He froze at the cover art. Those nighttime orbs that dominated his mind for the past six years stared back at him.

Still with a sparkle in his eyes, Bouwen moved to glance over Caesar’s shoulder. His smile fell and his face hardened. He snatched the book from Caesar’s hands and glared.

“Those words don’t mean anything. I shouldn’t have bothered to salvage this book. It only brings bad memories.”

“Salvage?”

Bouwen shoved the book back and turned Caesar toward the stairs.

“Your grandmother was right. I should’ve never brought you down here.”

Before Bouwen managed to push Caesar back up the stairs, he caught one last glimpse of the book.

Stars.

Those gorgeous lights had a name. It echoed in his mind for the rest of the night until he slipped under the covers of his bed, whispering it to himself.

***

Caesar woke up on his last day of school to barking dogs. A pressing thought pushed away his morning grogginess—Mr. Emerson would collect everyone’s final projects and decide the fate of their futures.

Caesar printed his novel while his family busied around. He knew his destiny. It wouldn’t be a scholarship for a writing program. It wouldn’t be a book deal and endless praise. It would be imprisonment or death. Caesar wasn’t sure which one he preferred.

He studied the cover—”My Secret World by Caesar Vi”. A chuckle escaped his throat.

It wouldn’t be a secret anymore. Everyone would know him. They would know what he did. They would know he was a traitor. Grown ups would hate him for defying the world they built. Kids would hate him because their parents did.

Unless Mr. Emerson kept quiet. He could simply tell the school that Caesar was unfit to be a university student. That he was only capable of working jobs society considered ‘lowly’.

But the burden would weigh on Mr. Emerson’s shoulders. If anyone found out he had been harboring a horrible secret, Caesar’s fate would extend to him. Could the teacher that didn’t care for his success cover him like that?

He shoved the novel in his backpack and threw it over his shoulder. It was too late now to conjure up something that proved he was worthy of a good career.

His mother flashed him a smile as he sped out.

“Good luck!” she called. The door slammed her voice out. He couldn’t bear to hear from his family anymore.

Caesar’s heart raced. His backpack bobbed up and down with his quick steps.

Classmates ambled ahead, talking about their big projects. One held a research paper almost as thick as Caesar’s novel. Another held a miniature town model, upgraded buildings forming a future for Jerlin’s Dawn. Caesar swallowed. He would never get to see that.

Students flooded into Mr. Emerson’s classroom, eager to show off their projects. For once, Caesar wished Dempsey was in the same homeroom. His only friend was a nuisance, but he was a friend regardless.

He waited outside for the bell to ring before stepping inside, his classmates too excited about their futures to notice him.

Mr. Emerson raised his arm to calm the commotion. “Once you’ve turned in your projects, you are free to go to the gym and celebrate your last day of school.”

Students chattered again as Mr. Emerson collected a variety of works and placed them around the room. Caesar sank into his seat in the back corner as models, beautiful pieces of art, intricate tri-folds, and essays with laminated covers surrounded him.

One by one, new graduates rushed out to the gym. When Caesar’s eyes refocused on Mr. Emerson’s watchful face, he found them to be the last two in the room.

“Your project?” Mr. Emerson extended a hand.

Fear struck through Caesar’s body. This was it. All the anxiety and dread that evaded him came flying back. His bombs ticked down—inevitable death or isolation only moments away.

Caesar swallowed a lump in his throat. “What if… I didn’t do a project?”

Mr. Emerson sighed, retracting his arm. “Then you don’t graduate. You’ll have to repeat the year and attend a workshop class to ensure you complete a sufficient project.”

The tick tocks stopped. Between his two paths, another opened up. He could pretend this never happened. He could burn the novel in his fireplace and start over. His parents would be disappointed. They’d say he’s a bad influence on Busby.

“What have you been doing this entire year?” they’d ask. But Caesar would get a second chance.

Except…

“You did bring your project, didn’t you?”

His classmates’ projects towered around him. These were people who knew what they wanted to do with their lives from the first day of high school. When it came to Caesar, all he wanted were the stars.

Every story he wrote would be about them. Every painting, all the research, and his models would be that blackened, beautiful ground and the starry, red sky.

Caesar grabbed his novel and let it fall on his desk. “I did.”

Mr. Emerson fell silent, staring at the thick manuscript. He swallowed before taking it, as if it would bite him.

Caesar hoisted his backpack and stood as Mr. Emerson read the title. A knowing glance tied them for a moment.

“I’ll make sure to read this first.”

Caesar paced out of the room. With the gym to his right, he steered to the left and out the exit.

***

With Busby at school and his parents working, Caesar slipped into his room and lied in silence. His family would come home believing he was out celebrating, and go to bed thinking he was enjoying his first day of adulthood.

Instead of lying to everyone, telling Dempsey and his classmates that he was a graduate just like them, he pulled out his typewriter from under his bed and let himself pour out on the silver-ringed keys.

Six years of restriction and repression flooded out of him. He couldn’t see the black words behind closed blinds and doors. Caesar wrote for no one but himself in that moment.

Knowing consequences were inevitable, his hundreds of pages acknowledged limitations. A taboo novel, but only the tip of an iceberg.

Now, Caesar exploded with everything he’d held in. How he couldn’t stand Jerlin’s Dawn. How he hated it and hated the way people looked at him. The attitude teachers had with him felt patronizing and dehumanizing.

He wrote about the betrayal he felt when his grandmother was so eager to hide something from him. How his grandfather turned to stone. How his parents couldn’t truly love him because they only knew a fraction of the person he was. How Dempsey was a shitty friend and could never compare to the chemistry he felt with that boy years ago.

Dozens of pages in, he heard the click of the front door and the sounds of his parents asking Busby how his day was, if he knew where Caesar was, and saying they hoped he was having fun.

Caesar let out a breath that sounded like pained laughter. He really couldn’t stand it anymore.

He shoved all the paper down his trash can—not caring if his parents found it later—and let his body sink below his covers.

Hours ticked by. His stomach growled as he heard his parents laughing with Busby about how proud they were of Caesar. He was finally an adult, they said. Wouldn’t even call home and tell them where he was.

Busby’s evening cartoons mixed with some cheesy sitcom about a family seeing everything Jerlin’s Dawn has to offer. Caesar gripped a fistful of his blanket, anger surging through his veins.

He had to get out. If he heard another word about stupid sports games or the generous governor, he would storm down and give his parents hell. He would end it all himself.

Caesar grabbed his sketchbook and opened the window. Two stories below, a cluster of pillows in the bushes softened his fall.

Sneaking down the stairs and out the back door ended when Busby caught him one night. Despite the soft steps, his eight-year-old ears were sharp.

Busby had threatened to tell on Caesar without giving him a chance to explain. It was then that he realized his parents had turned his little brother against him.

Caesar glanced through the glass sliding doors, his parents’ backs toward him as they laughed at the television show. He set himself upright in the backyard.

If he was going to go, he wanted one last look at the stars. He wanted a genuine drawing of them. It was all he had left before whatever fate met him.

Before he could step forward, sirens blared in the distance.

Caesar froze.

Their sounds rang differently than emergency sirens--this was a police car. Concrete crackled underneath the weight of rolling tires. Caesar saw his parents look up from the television before exchanging a worried gaze.

Three quick knocks on the front door paralyzed him.

Caesar’s father shut off the TV and hopped from the couch. His mother shot a scared glance.

Maybe in the past, before his parents grew suspicious of him, they would have been worried that something horrible happened to him. That he got in an accident with his friends. That he was at the hospital and his condition wasn’t improving.

But Caesar’s safety became a lesser concern, and his betrayal struck more fear. He wondered if his parents would prefer pain over humiliation.

Two uniformed officers stood side by side on the porch. One was a tall, slim man with an angry face, and the other was a shorter woman with a satisfied expression over crossed arms.

His father must have mumbled something, to which the man perked up a slight bit and said, “Good evening. Is Caesar Vi here?”

The officer’s words carried around the porch and to the backyard, sliding down Caesar’s forehead with his sweat.

“He’s not here,” his father shrugged. “He must be out with his friends celebrating tonight.”

“We’ve contacted his classmates already,” the woman said. “They said the last time they saw him this morning.”

“That’s impossible. If he were here he would’ve greeted us.”

“Is there a way you can contact him?”

Caesar swallowed. This was the fate he accepted when he first witnessed the world outside Jerlin’s Dawn. He had long passed the tolerance of a trapped life. If death meant freedom from this cage, he would prefer that over imprisonment.

He slid open the door and stepped inside. “I’m here.”

His mother twisted her neck back, horrified eyes bulging. His father couldn’t turn to face him. Caesar made his way to stand next to him.

“We received a call from someone at your school, Caesar,” the man said, his glare shaping back into place. “This person said that you have violated a very serious and classified law of Jerlin’s Dawn. We’ll have to take you into custody.”

“We’re gonna interrogate you,” the woman said, her smile growing.

“Excuse me?” Caesar’s mother finally stood. “Interrogation? Can’t we just talk to him about it?”

“Caesar is an adult. We can take him into custody and your parental consent will mean nothing. And with a crime this serious, he’s lucky enough to be alive in this moment.”

“Caesar has…” the woman’s brows raised, “...seen a place he shouldn’t have seen.”

Caesar’s mother stepped back. Her face curled into regretful understanding.

“How…?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out. Other officers will be here soon to investigate his room and your property.”

The man moved forward, pulling Caesar’s arms behind his back. He didn’t fight back. If suffering a little longer meant it would all end, he could take it.

Handcuffed, the officers guided him to the cruiser and shoved him into the backseat. He got one last look at his parents before the door slammed--disgust and embarrassment. How could you make us look this bad? his parents' voices rang in his head.

The silent ride brought him further from the outside he’d known and admired. Black tinted windows painted Jerlin’s Dawn the way he had begun to see it.

He closed his eyes to think of the stars once more, but that boy he saw six years ago popped into his mind. Would they meet again on the other side? Caesar shook his head. There was no use in hoping.

Once they reached the station, the officers walked him into a tiny room with only a table, some chairs, and a clock. The woman uncuffed him. “You’re so lucky, you don’t even know it.”

“What’ll happen to me?” Caesar asked, his throat dry and his voice cracking. It made him sound nervous, but being out of the presence of his parents brought back the wind he felt when he handed his work to Mr. Emerson.

“Good question.”

The man shot his co-worker a nasty gaze like her smug attitude was a nuisance to him. He looked back at Caesar, an intense stare unbreaking.

“We’re going to start by—”

The officer gasped. His scowl burned into shock. A needle and syringe jammed into his neck. The woman let go and let him fall onto the ground unconscious. Turning to gaze at Caesar, her confident demeanor melted into something incomprehensible.

She pulled out a strange device and spoke into it as Caesar's heart pounded against his chest.

“We’ve got another one.”