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giggles-and-freckles · 3 years

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my fic masterlist

decided to do this for my own sake more than anyone else’s because sometimes I have to make sure the idea I get at 3am isn’t one I’ve already written hehe. anyway, a lot of these are on my ao3, but I’m also going to try and track down some of my TuMbLr-eXcLuSiVe fics, too. I’ll update this as often as I remember (so, uhhh–)

In-Progress: Not On A Consistent Updating Schedule Bc Abi is a Mess ™

midst of the mind – Anakin has always had a pretty good understanding of his feelings, even if he's not particularly disciplined in acting on them. But things surrounding the Chancellor seem to be off and Anakin's determined to get to the bottom of it. With a little help from his friends.(or: fix-it ROTS fic where Ani, Obi, and Padmé take down the Chancellor one fake smile and late-night tea party at a time)

evermore – "dreamscapes and tragedies and epic tales of love lost and found" within the lives of our favourite space fam. (or: TAYLOR SWIFT LITERALLY OWNS MY SOUL, OKAY?) (unrelated one-shots based on taylor swift songs ha)

filling the gaps – after the horror of Naboo, Obi-Wan has flipped from Padawan to having a Padawan in a matter of hours and he's not sure how much longer he can pretend like he's okay. thankfully, this one spunky youngling who keeps popping up in the corners of his life seems to know what to do. (or: baby!Soka unknowingly helps new Knight!Kenobi figure things out and braids his hair along the way)

Obi-Wan & Ahsoka: Best Father-Daughter Duo In The Galaxy According To Me (because let’s be honest...that’s why I’m here) (tagged: #obi & soka)

filling the gaps – *in-progress multi-chapter* after the horror of Naboo, Obi-Wan has flipped from Padawan to having a Padawan in a matter of hours and he's not sure how much longer he can pretend like he's okay. thankfully, this one spunky youngling who keeps popping up in the corners of his life seems to know what to do. (or: baby!Soka unknowingly helps new Knight!Kenobi figure things out and braids his hair along the way)

playing catch – Ahsoka finds an old friend on Tatooine and has lots of questions. they cry a lot. obi-wan tells some white lies. they get the hugs they need. (Obi-Wan & Ahsoka reunite on Tatooine)

all too young – during a bout of insomnia while on Onderon, Ahsoka gets some advice and insight about her Master. (or Obi-Wan hears Ahsoka laugh for the first time and they get to have a snuggle and he absolutely spends the entire next day training the rebels trying not to cry thinking about it every dang time he sees her.)

hologram heart-to-hearts – we see Obi-Wan and Ahsoka have a conversation via hologram in the final season of tcw, but what if there had been...more?(three-parter) (basically Obi and Soka keep in touch after she leaves the Order and there’s...a lot of emotions involved)

little love – a sort of follow-up to hologram heart-to hearts; Ahsoka sticks her nose into the wrong Alliance meeting and discovers a certain Jedi is alive and on Tatooine of all places, so she places a long-distance call.

bad days – Ahsoka tries to squeeze out of her Grand Master exactly what happened on Mortis. and, as always, Obi-Wan is powerless to deny her anything, no matter how painful that truth may be.

sleeping with monsters – Ahsoka is having a hard time sleeping after her time on Felucia, so Obi-Wan offers a solution.

chance meeting – Obi-Wan is up late researching for his Master in the archives when a certain sneeze–and pair of big blue eyes–catch his attention.

‘drooping eyelids’ prompt fill – Ahsoka and Obi-Wan have a conversation about attachment while Anakin’s missing. they (plus Anakin) get some platonic cuddles.

‘dancing’ prompt fill – they attend a senatorial gala without Anakin because he’s feeling grumpy grump after deception arc fall-out. Obi realises that there are still things to be thankful for.

sorrow – Ahsoka feels the full weight of loss as she clutches her Grand Master’s dead body. (deception arc FEELS!!!!)

‘I do not pretend to set people right, but I do see they are often wrong’ prompt fill – *trigger warning: death of children; Obi comforts Ahsoka after they witness an atrocity of the highest order.

the silence between — Ahsoka gets assigned to the 212th as her Master recovers. Unwanted quality time with her Grand Master doesn’t go as planned.

untitled ‘Obi & Ani role reversal au’ ficlet — Padawan Obi-Wan pays a visit to his best pal Ahsoka in the crèche.

‘falling asleep on each other’s shoulder’ prompt fill – the summary says it all. fluff!

'I don’t wanna die’ – Obi-Wan comforts Ahsoka in her pain. *tw: implied major character death

‘I made tea’ – Anakin is off-world so it’s up to Obi-Wan to take care of his sick grand-padawan.

sorry for the soup – post-deception arc. Ahsoka stops by Obi-Wan’s quarters to check-in.

Obi-Wan & Anakin: The Early Years (tagged: #obi & ani)

figuring it out – Anakin learns waking Obi-Wan up can sometimes be a good thing and Obi-Wan learns that maybe everything's going to be okay. (padawan!ani & new dad knight!kenobi)

if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more – Anakin overhears a conversation he wasn’t meant to hear and lashes out in response. lots of hurt is uncovered and Obi-Wan hears some hard truths from his Padawan. angst, angst, angst...but with a hug.

reading lessons – the team takes a trip to the archives to find some reading material. Anakin is adorably insecure.

cold – Obi-Wan and Anakin have their first solo mission, but in typical Kenobi & Skywalker fashion, it does not go as planned. Exasperated Obi-Wan and Won't-Shut-Up Anakin are put to the test by deep space and a completely out-of-fuel ship. (or some more fluff where padawan!ani and new knight!kenobi get to try and figure out how the heck this master-padawan thing WORKS. hint: it's not easy!)

playing hooky – angel baby Anakin breaks Obi-Wan's heart and it's not for the last time...womp wooooomp.

like you – sweet, angel baby Ani gives himself a haircut and Obi-Wan deals with the aftermath. (I’m copying and pasting most of these summaries directly from ao3 and cracking up because I called Anakin a sweet angel baby in two in a ROW hahah)

fun? – the Jedi Council gives Obi-Wan his newest orders as a young Jedi Knight and he struggles to understand them. he was instructed to take his new Padawan and...have...fun?

go away/please stay – Obi-Wan has been disappearing for solo missions more and more often and Anakin's starting to wonder if it's more than just on request of the Council. (or: can you say TEEN ANGST!)

‘forehead kisses’ prompt fill – Anakin stumbles upon his Master having quite the nightmare, so he handles it the way his mom always handled his own nightmares. with patience and affection.

unnamed NAP TIME fic – Obi-Wan gets home from a solo mission early to find his bed occupied.

‘sweets’ prompt fill – Anakin gets a little ambitious with his choco-ball indulgence.

‘fuzzy socks’ prompt fill – years after arriving at the Temple, Anakin still hasn’t quite adjusted to the cold. Obi-Wan gets him a gift to help. (really just an excuse for some obi ani banter)

‘snowball fight’ prompt fill – Anakin takes his boredom to the next level, much to his Master’s chagrin.

untitled Anakin sickfic bc I’m not feeling very creative right now – the team goes on a mission but Anakin gets sick. Obi-Wan is ultimate mother hen and Anakin makes an observation.

got germs – sickficlet where both of our best boys are sick.

you’re okay – just some classic protective parent!Obi-Wan and teenaged son!Anakin post disaster.

‘you lied to me’ – angstpril day 13. Anakin really wants to go to Ilum and make his lightsaber...but is met with disappointment.

random sickfic – because we all know Anakin is the most annoying sick person in the world.

don’t struggle – the ship is crashing, as usual. but this time, Anakin’s seatbelt is stuck. *tw: implied major character deaths

relic – sith!Obi au. *tw: major character death

aspectabund – Anakin’s eyes betray him and his Master.

Obi-Wan & Anakin: Brotp But Also Idiots Who Don’t Know How To Communicate (still tagged #obi & ani)

define ‘attachment’ – while the dads esteemed Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker wait for Ahsoka to wake up, they talk about attachment, worry, and that time Ani caused an accidental security breech at the Temple.

favourites – Obi-Wan has been tasked with telling Anakin of his special assignment to keep an eye on the Chancellor, but he gets sappy and sentimental in the process because these conversations are hard.

after all these years – Obi-Wan tries to talk to Anakin, but it doesn't go well. does this sound familiar OR WHAT? (post-decpetion arc angst)

brilliant – Anakin is having a difficult time adjusting to his new mechno-arm for one very specific reason. (the boys communicate properly in this one and even get a hug as a treat!)

sober words said aloud – Anakin's meeting with the Council is interrupted by his highly intoxicated–and wildly affectionate–Master. (crack fic turned fluff)

‘you’ve been crying, I can tell’ prompt fill – Anakin makes the mistake of checking in on his Master after a particularly grueling mission. it doesn’t go well. (or: Obi-Wan loses his sh!t)

going somewhere? – Obi-Wan catches Anakin on his way out for a midnight rendezvous with a certain Senator. Anakin makes a quick decision and chooses Obi-Wan. sweet words are exchanged on a sentimental walk.

shaking hands – in the immediate wake of Ahsoka’s departure form the order, Anakin...isn’t okay. Obi-Wan tries to do something about it. (post S5 angst)

untitled platonic tired cuddles/back scratching fic – Anakin resorts to an old tactic to make his Master rest.

sun shine on – Obi-Wan and Anakin take a little trip to Tatooine to visit Shmi’s grave. (post-ROTS fix-it au of sorts)

pushing it too far — Obi-Wan calls Anakin for some help when he takes ‘intel’ too seriously and ends up drunk on a street in lower-level Coruscant.

whump prompt fill – Obi-Wan looks after Anakin after a near-miss. They talk.

‘was it another premonition?’ – Obi-Wan dreams of Luke. He wakes up to Anakin.

post-mortis angst – Anakin remembers. *tw: implied suicidal thoughts

angstpril: ‘you have to let me go’ – Anakin and Obi-Wan are stuck in a pit. only one of them can make it out alive. *tw: implied major character death

role model – post-deception angst. Obi and Ani talk. it doesn’t go well.

here either way – conversations about mental health. *tw: panic attack

hiraeth – Obi-Wan walks alone. *post ROTS

Anakin & Ahsoka: Dream Team Sharing One Single Brain Cell (tagged: #snips & skyguy or (for the really angsty) #its crying about snips & skyguy hours)

that one person – (my first fic!) Anakin gets assigned to lecture a class of younglings, but he's not the only one who doesn't want to be there.or Ahsoka Tano is done with Jedi sh!t and tries to leave, but this time it's just a classroom and not the entire Order and there's a lot less tears and pain.

here and now – the Force has tried to swallow Ahsoka Tano three times. it's hard to be the last one standing. (or Ahsoka feels the death of three important men in her life and is tired of being left behind) *tw: major character deaths (canon compliant and not depicted, only mentioned)

whumptober: crying – Anakin comforts a distraught Ahsoka after her disaster mission over Ryloth.

reaching out – Anakin is always there...until he’s not. Ahsoka reflects on how different it is fighting and living without Anakin at her side. (angst)

help would come – Anakin and Ahsoka get stuck on an ice planet and things get dire. I chalked this full of parallels to the final conversation between Ani and Luke bc I love pain, I guess?

whump: ‘i’ve got you’ – Anakin pulls Ahsoka from a nightmare.

zen!Anakin ficlet — Ahsoka visits Anakin in his new job as Galaxy’s #1 Dad (well Plo Koon still exists so maybe #1.5?).

right as rain – Ahsoka insists she is fine when she is distinctly not.

snoozeville – Anakin and a few boys of the 501st find their Commander catching some extra z’s.

stitching up – Ahsoka performs some in-the-moment surgery for Anakin and he tries not to scream. *tw: field surgery

‘platonic spooning’ prompt fill – do I need a summary after that?

sad hours: dancing – Anakin and Ahsoka dance in the aftermath of tragedy.

rainy ending given to a perfect day – Anakin and Ahsoka take a trip into downtown Coruscant.

Anakin and Padmé: Abi Tries and fails To Write Romance (tagged: #anidala)

not enough – Anakin has a hard time with the Mortis fall-out. Padmé doesn’t know how to help someone who doesn’t want it. some painful connections between Ahsoka and Shmi are made. (angst, no happy ending, trouble in paradise)

I will not have this baby in a jail cell – some fluff, some crack, some Anakin-being-so-proud-of-his-badass-wife.

marcid – domestic fluff in which Padmé almost shoots him. ha. oops!

rubatosis – angsty anidala hours. Anakin can’t go to sleep.

Obi-Wan and Satine: Abi Tries and fails some more To Write Romance (tagged #obitine)

don’t go – Obi-Wan makes a choice. *year on the run timeline

that’s mine – some happiness AU obitine. waking up next to each other. laughing. all the sappy stuff.

accidental keldabe kiss – all the ridiculous tropes I love with our favourite pining idiots. it’s the ‘kiss me so they don’t see us!’ trope!!!! *year on the run timeline

you’re shaking – Satine knows Obi-Wan more than he’d like. *year on the run

Anakin, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Rex, Padmé: Space Found Family In Whatever Form It Comes

i want your midnights – the gang attends a New Year's banquet (read: party) and Padmé surprises them all with her midnight kiss.

flair for dramatics – when the gang gets their ship stranded on a desert planet, Anakin and Ahsoka get creative as they try to keep spirits up and minds off the sweltering heat. Obi-Wan questions his sanity. (crack fic turned fluff)

nothing a cup of tea can’t fix – when Anakin shows up to Obi-Wan's quarters in the middle of the night, the Jedi Master knows something has gone awry. answering Anakin's desperate cry for help, Obi-Wan is reminded of how very, very prone to dramatics his former Padawan and Grand Padawan are. (or: Ahsoka gets sick and Anakin flips his shit.) (sickfic)

in the sandstorm – when Tatooine's weather takes a turn for the worst, Ben Kenobi finds a young boy in need of shelter and some lessons on how wonderful his dad had been. (luke and obi-wan hurt/comfort)

remembering hurts – Rex and Ahsoka strive to survive on the snowy moon in the days after Order 66. tensions are high and emotions are volatile.

balter – disaster trio dances at a senatorial ball.

reunion – au where Anakin doesn’t completely turn to the dark side but everything up to and including Mustafar (except for the last like...five minutes) happens. Padmé has the twins, Obi-Wan is overwhelmed, Anakin is a mess. they’re happy...or at least, they will be soon.

‘cookies’ prompt fill – disaster trio makes cookies for the crechelings for Life Day. (just fluff and banter)

first ever codywan! – Cody does some bedside vigil for a hurt Obi-Wan. :’)

transponster – disaster trio is tired and delusional. Rex and Cody want Jedi to have some kriffing self-preservation.

one final salute — Obi-Wan and Cody get trapped. Obi-Wan’s luck is running out. (angst? angst.)

codywan whump – Cody saves Obi-Wan’s life. again. (more fluff than whump)

girls’ night – Ahsoka hangs out with her mom pal Padmé.

driving lessons – Obi-Wan and Anakin teach Ahsoka to drive. ha.

affectionate obi – the kids get Obi-Wan a puppy. fluff!

sorry I don’t speak idiot – Rex and Fives deal with a drunk Echo :’)

post deception disaster trio sadness – Ahsoka tries to keep Obi-Wan company in the aftermath of Rako Hardeen...but Anakin isn’t playing nice.

verklempt – Ahsoka and Yoda talk about being chosen. and Ahsoka finds out maybe she hasn’t been left behind afterall. *pre-TCW

apricity – disaster trio have a picnic at the temple! just pure fluff.

pyrrhic – codywan but make it angsty. some battles are won at too great a cost.

disaster trio sickfic – two Jedi dads and their (sick) daughter :’)

‘you’ve been here this whole time?’ – newlyweds anidala (but shh, Obi-Wan doesn’t know that! yes he does, everyone does.) are there when Obi-Wan wakes up and he ownders just what he did to get so lucky.

Febuwhump 2021: A Foray into Hurting the Characters I Love the Most

mind control – Anakin’s narrative as he fights Ahsoka on Mortis. sad boy hours. a lot of insecurity happening here.

‘I can’t take this anymore’ – during the Obitine (plus third-wheel Qui-Gon) year on the run, Satine gets tired of Obi-Wan trying to die for her. a bit hurt/comfort, a lot sappy.

imprisonment – on their first mission together, Obi & Ani get captured. Anakin learns how Obi-Wan feels about tight spaces.

coma – post deception arc. Obi-Wan goes into a coma after a particularly intense conversation with Anakin. Anakin tells Obi’s unconscious body how he’s feeling. angst, angst, angst. there’s your warning.

‘take me instead’ – Anakin escorts Padmé on a diplomatic mission but things get dicey and quick decisions must be made. Anakin isn’t the only one in this relationship willing to be an idiot for the sake of *love.* (or: another attempt to write Anidala in a convincing way because they give me a tough! time! so this time make it...dangerous)

insomnia – Anakin overhears a late night holo-call and learns that his Master has a...friend that is a girl???? and is pretty???? but also that his Master may need some fixing and he thinks he may just be the nine-year-old for the job.

poisoning – Ahsoka gets drugged and Anakin gets...er...angry. (read: dark)

‘hey, hey, this is no time to sleep’ – as Ahsoka and Anakin wait for help, Anakin tells a story. an ancient monster in the heart of Tatooine...waiting for it's day of reckoning. (or: Ahsoka gets dehydrated and Anakin can't deny his hurting sister/padawan anything so he talks a little bit about home.)

buried alive – Anakin reflects on some things as his Padawan tries to rescue him from the rubble. angst!!!!!!!!!

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know’ – the Council loses a planet and Obi & Ani get tasked with finding it, but after nine hyperspace jumps and a painful discovery, Obi-Wan teaches his former Padawan one more lesson. (or: the boys talk about failure and feelings when Obi-Wan finds out Anakin's mechno-arm has been causing pain for a couple years)

hallucinations – Ahsoka tries to fix things. it doesn’t work. (post-order 66) angst

‘who are you?’ – Anakin and Ahsoka rescue Obi-Wan, but things aren’t okay and Obi-Wan doesn’t recognise Anakin. (or: Obi is tortured for information about the fall of the Republic before it happens and goes a bit mad bc of it)

‘I didn’t mean it’ – Obi-Wan learns how cold and unfeeling his young Padawan thinks he is and has a rough day. angst

burned – Anakin mourns the loss of his Padawan in a tactile way. Obi-Wan watches. (or: Anakin throws Ahsoka’s Padawan beads into a fire)

‘I wish I have never given you a chance’ – Obi-Wan is reminded of his own incompetence through a vision form his old master.

you have to let me go – Ahsoka has one heirloom: a hologram of her old master as a padawan. but it’s time to let the past go and step into the future, with help from an old friend.

#my fic #maybe I'll go give creative names to some of these prompt request fills someday but #probably not #anyway I definitely should have been doing things other than making this tonight but HERE WE ARE #:)#also at the time of me typing this I have 49 fics listed on here #which is so crazy to me #bc I just started writing in september and if you had told me I would have 50 fics in five months I would have laughed at you #and its so fun and cringey to look back at some of these #its only been a few months but my writing has CHANGED #(hopefully for the better?)#anyway yay! an organised archive!#sw fanfiction

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dracosaurusrex · 3 years

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Bookworms (Draco x Reader)

Summary: Where Y/N and Draco discover that there’s much more to each other than what meets the eye.

Word Count: 11k

Genre: Fluff (slight angst in the beginning); enemies-to-friends-to-lovers ; No Voldy AU

TW: Self-harm but it’s not too much.

A/N: Hi friends! I want to say that I don’t really know where I was going with this, but that would be a lie. So a couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine (we’ll name her @minty-malfoy) posted a tag thread and one of her responses involved her wanting to own a bookshop. It got me thinking of a bookshop romance and ugh YES. With dark academia, how could I not? Fast forward to last week, I ask her for a favor without realizing it was her birthday, and I felt so embarrassed LOL. So, yes, this is your gift my friend. I hope you enjoy it. Keep shining like the light you are!

Besides that, I genuinely hope that if you come across this, you enjoy this big chunggus of a oneshot. I apologize if it’s slow at some parts. I also didn’t proofread the end. I should probably shut up now before I start questioning my writing omll

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Written in pages bound by leather covers are worlds that bring you out of your own. An adventure. An escape. Within that escape sprouts myriads of emotions and thoughts, but what you value the most amongst them all are its gifts of perspective and solace.

Y/N Y/L/N lived the majority of her life with her mother. Her father, who was an auror, passed when she was young, leaving them to surmount the challenges of the world alone. Together, they owned a decent bookshop in Hogsmeade. Its shelves lined the walls, occupying the entire expanse from the floor up to the ceiling. Within them were books of varying genres, filling your senses with the soothing aromas of old parchment, sounds of turning pages, and the feeling of warmth and coziness. To others, this little shop was known as Avenoir Books. However, you knew it as home, your safe space, your comfort zone.

Your mother was the one responsible for introducing you to your love for reading. Growing up, you’d recall the sound of her voice as she read to you--the way that it cradled you with reassurance when times got rough. She always managed to disguise her worries, yet in moments when she thought she was alone, you had witnessed her at her lowest points. It was only within your knowledge that you knew life was difficult, for your mother would shield you from the problems that reality had actually presented to you. She carried the weight of both your worlds on her shoulders, giving you protection by surrounding you with new ones to step into as you sat yourself in the confines of your cozy shop. It was because of her that reading became your refuge, and it remained so when you went away for school at Hogwarts.

Your mother’s resilience fueled your desire to become strong, to become great, to create a new life where you wouldn’t have to see her cry in secret. She was the reason you had been sorted into the Slytherin house in your first year, and she was also the reason why you’d been so successful within your 4 years of schooling by far.

You were a quiet Slytherin, mostly keeping to yourself while observing those around you. The most interesting and exasperating individual of the entire student body was a proud and arrogant boy, Draco Malfoy. He had never picked on you, but there were countless times you had witnessed his relentlessness with others, especially with the Golden Trio. Each and every instance increased your despise for him, furthermore deepening your ardent desire to keep your distance. However, it seemed that the universe had other plans for you today.

Weekdays kept you immersed in bulky textbooks--notes constantly jotted down through endless heaps of parchment. On weekends, however, you swapped your robes for a work apron, helping your mother around the shop. She’d situate herself by the counter and typically manned the ground level, while you’d be propped on a sliding ladder, managing books that sat on shelves higher up. You had a system in Avenoir Books. Customers would typically roam about the main floor, which was occupied by books from famous publishers and authors. However, for books that were more obscure or specialized, customers would head to the counter and gain consultation from your mother. In return, she’d direct them to you, prompting you to slide amongst the shelves in search for the requested titles, genres, or authors.

The store typically had a steady flow of people passing through. You have come across many different personalities and backgrounds throughout your life. Today was quite different, however. The bustling noises slowly died down upon the entrance of a pair of notorious figures, the air suddenly becoming tense. There stood Lucius Malfoy. His chin was pointed up, platinum locks flowing over his shoulders, walking stick in hand, his eyes scanning the shop with a pompous expression on his face. Standing to his side was Draco. He maintained the same look as his father, which soon featured a scowl as it managed to grace his face.

You heard the older man mutter, “Let’s get this over with, Draco.��

The two made their way through the vicinity as gazes were trained on them. Even you stopped what you were doing to observe their actions. Lucius approached your mother, who gave much effort to keep a welcoming smile plastered on her lips.

“Mr. Malfoy, what brings you the pleasure of stopping by?” Her tone was sweet and quite inviting, although it didn’t do much to shift the man’s attitude.

“You have quite the selection here at Avenoir--I’m impressed.” His tone on the other hand was laced with a tinge of venom and arrogance. Lucius' eyes kept trained on the expanses of shelves until they landed on you.

“I assume that’s your daughter, Y/N? Draco’s told me much about her.” You couldn’t decipher whether he meant well, moreover what Draco could’ve possibly said about you to his father. You weren’t aware that the boy even knew of your existence since all you did was keep away from him at all costs.

Your mother responds, “Yes, she’s a fifth year at Hogwarts. I assume your son’s the same?”

“You’re not wrong. Although, that’s not what I’m here for…” As Lucius continues his consultation with your mother, Draco takes the liberty to browse through the various genres of books featured on the ground floor. You don’t move from your position, rather you keep your gaze on him, observing his reactions. He picks up a familiar script. It’s a muggle book entitled, The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa. You witness him flip through the first couple of pages before focusing in on the first chapter. Slowly, you see the scowl begin to leave his face--the tension between his eyebrows dissipates, his lips release the frown that had situated itself there, and his eyes take on a more solemn and concentrated expression. It contrasted greatly to the image he maintained at school. You realized then that when he wasn’t so obnoxious and loud, Draco was actually quite handsome.

“Draco, drop that filthy muggle book!” You weren’t aware of Lucius approaching until the snake embellishment that topped his walking stick violently landed on the boy’s shoulder. You saw him wince in pain as he dropped the book, rubbing the area to soothe the harsh sensation. Before you could react, your mother calls out to you.

“Y/N, Alchemy, Argo Pyrites.” You broke out from your daze and simply nodded in understanding. The duo now had their eyes on you as you charmed the ladder to take you to the location of the book. You actively scanned the spines for the targeted title, releasing a small “aha” when you find it. Once it’s in your hands, you blow off traces of dust and ensure that the book is in mint condition. It doesn’t take you long to make your way down. As you do so, you approach Lucius and lend the book over. He takes his time to check for any disparities before meeting your gaze once again.

“Y/N is it? Pleasure to meet you.” His tone was anything but kind, but you go along with it, doing your best to maintain courtesy.

“Pleasure’s all mine Mr. Malfoy. It’s very kind of you to stop by.”

“Certainly. Draco, say goodbye to your friend, let’s get going.” Draco looks at you from top to bottom before releasing a smirk. With a quick raise of his eyebrows, he turns around and follows his father out of the shop. You watch their figures disappear into the crowd before making your way to your mother.

“Draco seems like a nice boy, doesn’t he?” You scoff and cross your arms in disagreement.

“Oh please. ‘Nice’ is the last thing he’ll ever be.” She gives you a knowing gaze.

“Did you see how his father hit his shoulder? Even I was shocked. That poor boy never saw it coming.” You recall the pained expression that Draco had on his face. You supposed his parents imposed their pureblood supremacist ideals on the boy’s choice of interests as well.

“It’s not like he doesn’t deserve the pity, mother. You should see him at school. Obnoxious! Rude! Arrogant! He bullies others mercilessly!” You expected her face to contort in disgust and disappointment, but she only gave that familiar motherly smile.

“We can’t always assume the extent of a person’s character based on what they show, darling. Similar to how we should not judge a book by its cover.” She emphasized the last point knowing that you would understand. You could never fight your mother. Despite the difficulty of getting to where you were in life, she always embodied grace and wisdom through it all.

She spoke again, “Did you happen to see the book he was reading?”

“It was The Memory Police.” You couldn’t understand why she asked. She approached the book that Draco had dropped and picked it up. When she returned, she looked at you expectantly.

“You’re going to see him again this Monday, are you not?” You nodded, “I want you to give this to him.” Your eyes widened.

“Mother, I couldn’t possibly-”

“No excuses, Y/N! A kind gesture never hurt anyone.” Her tone softens, and you knew you couldn’t say no.

“The look he had on his face reminded me of you when you were younger. Do you remember?” You only sighed, remembering the relief you felt when you cozied up to a book. She continued, “He seemed more peaceful having a little bit of time to escape don’t you think?” Your shoulders, which were once tense, dropped.

You groaned, “Fine! I’ll do it.” Mother, 1, Y/N, 0.

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Throughout the remainder of the weekend, you thought of ways you could slip the book to the platinum-haired boy without having to actually confront him. You couldn’t understand why your mother wanted to reach out to him so bad. Never in your entire life have you seen her extend that much sympathy to a customer before. Ever! That boy is a git. A rich one at that! Everything was practically given to him on a silver plate. Why would he care so much about a measly book?

These questions roamed through your mind as you packed your school bag the following Monday morning. The book was settled on top of your desk, staring and waiting for you to pick it up. With dread, you reluctantly take it and place it into your bag. With one last look in the mirror, you grab your things and make your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. As you enter the massive room, you take a seat by yourself in the Slytherin table. You took a glance to find a familiar blonde mop of hair. All of his friends were there in their usual spot with him being the only one absent, which was weird because he never skipped breakfast. Wanting to get your mom’s task over with, you approach the group. They were chattering amongst themselves, not noticing your presence.

You cleared your throat, grabbing their attention, “Um, hey. Do you happen to know where Malfoy is?” They only looked at you in awe.

“The famous Y/N actually speaks? Didn’t think I’d ever hear a word come out of you.” The girl, Pansy, pointed out. You rolled your eyes.

Another girl, Daphne, kicked the prior’s ankle, eliciting a loud yelp from her. She spoke out, “I’m sorry Y/N. He said he’s not feeling too well, so he’s cooped up in the dorm.” You appreciated the softness of her voice in contrast to Pansy’s strong tone.

“Why do you ask? You never talk to him.” It was Blaise’s turn to chime in.

“I have some business with him.” You stood there, feeling the awkwardness creeping up. Your fingers were twirling the ends of your hair and you casted your gaze elsewhere. They just stared at you, still comprehending the sound of your voice.

“Well?” You asked.

“Ah, yes. He’s in dorm 7.” You nodded your head in appreciation and turned around to leave. You had about an hour before class, giving you ample time to make the delivery and go about with your day. At least that was what you thought.

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

Once you enter the Slytherin common room, you make a turn towards the boys’ dormitories. As you take the stairs leading to it, you’re met with a corridor that takes a close resemblance to the girls’. Doors were lined on either side with numbers used to differentiate them--Draco’s room was located all the way down the hall. Oddly enough, the closer you approached it, the more nervous you felt. You never imagined yourself stepping into this part of the dungeons, moreover doing so to drop something off for a boy you despised. You yelled at your mom internally for putting you through this.

The distance between you and the door kept shrinking, and as you drew closer, you began to feel strange. Something was off. The uncertainty looming in the air grew thicker until you finally found yourself standing in front of the room. Before knocking, you press your ear against the entrance. There was complete silence. You also notice that the door was not closed all the way. The animosity you felt towards the boy was gradually replaced with worry and concern.

“Malfoy? Are you in there?” You ask hesitantly. There was no response.

“Draco?” You press your ear further into the door in hopes to pick up any sign of his presence. When you received none, you pushed forward, entering the room with caution. You were met with the sight of a half-made bed, Draco’s robes and uniform laid out on top. His desk still had books turned to different pages, accompanied with an open ink bottle and quill left upon pieces of parchment. All these things, yet still no signs of the Malfoy heir. You stood in your place for a moment, trying to concentrate on his whereabouts. However, your thoughts were interrupted by the subtle sounds of sniffles. Your eyes widened as your focus redirected to locating its source. It was then that you noticed another door leading to what you believed was the bathroom. The noises became more prominent as you walked towards it. You felt nervous and uncertain about what you were going to find. As you wrap your hand around the knob to open it, your eyes widened at the sight of the boy grabbing his wrist, which was dripping with blood. On his side was a razor blade.

You gasped as his eyes met yours, your heart breaking in the process. In front of you wasn’t the same bully everyone knew. No. In front of you laid a half-naked Draco whose eyes were filled with what seemed to be hopelessness, defeat, and fright. Tear stains stroke his cheeks, his eyebrows furrowed with pain. His hair stuck to his forehead as sweat accompanied his tears. The hand gripping his wrist was stained with blood, its pressure only forcing the flow to increase.

“Draco!” You didn’t know what overcame you in that instance. You frantically threw your bag off your shoulders and proceeded to kneel next to him, taking in his wounded arm. The boy retaliated.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” His voice was defensive and strained, but it didn’t faze you.

“I’m trying to save your sorry arse! Look at how much blood you’re losing. Merlin!” You returned a gaze that matched the intensity of his. The concern in your own tone heightened as you dug into the pockets of your robes in search of your wand.

“I don’t want to be saved! Don’t you get it? Leave me alone!” He wriggled in your grasp, only inducing you to tighten the grip you had on him. He gasped at the stinging sensation, tears streaming down his face. Tears began to fill the brim of your eyes.

“Stop spewing nonsense, Malfoy! I can’t leave you and I won’t!” The pained expression on your face caught his gaze. Tears had already spilled over. “Please, Draco. Let me heal you.” The boy stopped his protests upon hearing the desperation that was laced in your voice. You used the back of your hand that was gripping your wand to wipe the tears off of your face. After calming yourself down, you hover your hand over his gashes to perform the healing spell, a serious expression now spreading across your face.

“Vulnera sanentur.” His blood begins to retract back to its origin, the rate of its flow slowing down.

“Vulnera sanentur.” Your wand continues to trace Draco’s wounds. The traces of residue begin to disappear. Draco looks at your concentrated face and then turns his gaze back onto his wrists.

You perform the incantation for a final time, “Vulnera sanentur.” The cuts disappear completely and you let out a sigh of relief. You cast a look at Draco’s stunned face before scanning his shirtless torso. It was also filled with scars that were most likely left to heal on their own. The frown on your face grows as a rush of thoughts suddenly occupy your mind. How long has he been doing this to have this many cuts and scars? Draco, behind his arrogant mask, was alone. You didn’t need him to vocalize that fact for you. It was written across his face. The expression glossed over his eyes longed for the company that he never truly had.

In that instant, you knew your mother was right. You really can’t assume the extent of a person’s character based on what they showed.

“Would it be okay if I took care of you for a bit? I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone like this.” Your voice was soft as you released small hiccups signalling the end of your crying. Draco, who has no energy to object, simply nods. Your thoughts drift to your mother and how she was strong enough to carry both your burdens. As you recalled the love she gave you, the sour feelings that you had towards the boy faded. At that moment your only task of importance was to clean him up.

It was silent the entire time. You picked Draco up and propped him up onto a stool. He did nothing but keep his gaze on you as you walked to and fro in the bathroom. You took a face towel that was hanging on the side of the sink and wet it with cold water. You then wring the towel of excess water and wiped his face. The streaks that the tears made disappeared. You proceeded to his forehead, getting rid of the sweat and pushing his bangs upwards. You then began to wipe his neck, making sure that there was a comfortable distance between you two.

“Chin up.” You demanded. He obeyed, and you wiped over the expanse between both jaws, his throat, and down to his collar bones. You yelled at yourself mentally to focus on the action instead of the curves and crevices outlined by his skin. Luckily, you were able to keep a straight face, making no sign of being flustered whatsoever. You step back to wet the towel again before proceeding to wiping his shoulders. At this point, you began feeling warmth spreading across your face. Draco let out a small laugh.

“Like what you see?” He asks with a broken voice. You snickered at the way he managed to be funny at a time like this.

“I’m only being nice, Malfoy. Don’t let your head get big. Not that it hasn’t already.” You say, giving a coy smile. You gulp discretely as you make your way down his chest. His eyes never leave you. You purposefully wipe that area much faster to prevent you from blushing even more. Once you get to his wrists, you rub circles on the area where the cuts used to be before running the towel over it and to his hands.

“How do you feel?” You ask.

“Better.”

“Good. Cup your hands for me please.” He follows your instruction once again. “Aguamenti.” A stream of water flows from the tip of your wand and into his palms.

“Drink up.” He remains obedient. Once he finishes, you pour in water once again, having him repeat the act. You feel at ease as he gulps the water down. His body still looks limp, and his face still gaunt, but it was a huge improvement considering the state he was in when you walked in.

Your gaze settles on the floor and the stray blade, both covered in dried blood. “Tergeo.” You mutter, cleaning up the mess.

You point your wand to the blade, “Evanesco.” It disappears in an instant. You turn back to Draco. You wrap your arm around his torso and bring him close to you to help him maintain his balance as you step out of the bathroom.

“Where do you keep your sleepwear?” You ask. He points to the cabinet, and you go forth to take out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. You hand him the articles of clothing and turn around to leave him to change.

He laughs, “You’re silly you know? You’ve already seen me half-naked, yet you turn around.” You only shrug and chuckle before turning around to meet his gaze. He leans on the side of the bed, arms crossed.

“I have yet to ask, Y/N. What brought you here in the first place?” You were so absorbed in healing and cleaning Draco that your initial purpose for coming over flew past your mind.

“Oh yes,” You pick up your bag that laid on the floor, and rummaged through it before pulling out his copy of The Memory Police.

“Mother saw how peaceful you looked when reading this book at the shop. She heavily insisted that I bring it to you, saying that you can use an escape too.” You lean on the space beside him as you hand him the book. His eyes widened as he cautiously took the book out of your hands, as if his father would appear right this instant. He scanned the cover, and flipped through the pages, his eyes glossed with disbelief. The sight of him like this made you imagine how much of his life had been kept in a cage. Wealth did not serve as a basis for happiness. You could only guess how much expectations were held for the Malfoy heir.

“My father would object to me having this.” You nodded in understanding, rubbing his shoulder to comfort him. He looks up at you.

“I won’t push you to tell me the reasons why you decided to harm yourself, but I’m certain that you need a break from whatever bothered you in the first place. Please, keep it. My mother will nag me without end if I don't deliver it.” He smiles.

“Thank you. I mean it.” Your jaw dropped. He rolled his eyes.

“Draco Malfoy actually knows how to say ‘thank you’.” You say, mocking a look of disbelief. He scoffed and his scowl reappeared in an instant.

You raised your arms in defense, “What? You can’t blame me.” You both share a laugh before silence overtakes you once again. Your head faced downward, and you kept your sights on your shoes.

“Thank you for letting me take care of you. It frightened me to see you like that.” You fumbled with your fingers.

“It’s a miracle that you came, Y/N. I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself if you hadn’t yourself.” You smiled. You were appalled with the fact that there was a soft side to the boy. You looked at him, remembering the comfort that you found in your mother’s love through books. In that moment, an idea sprung forth in your mind.

“Ever since I was young, it was only me and my mother. Father passed when I was 2, and we were left alone to face the world.” You looked at him to find that his attention was on you. You continued, “There were plenty of times I felt hopeless and scared, but it was the comfort of her voice that washed that feeling away. She’d stay by my side at night to read me books, and she always managed to take me to worlds that detached me from the reality that we lived in. She told me that Avenoir, besides it being a bookstore, was established to become my safe space, my comfort zone, my refuge, if you will. She’s why I love reading.” You took Draco’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“And I want to extend that to you. Please feel free to come by whenever okay? We’ve never been that close, and you have been pretty gittish, but no one deserves to feel alone.” You gave the boy a reassuring smile.

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Draco gazed at his hand, which was still squeezed in yours. He then shifted his view back to the smile on your face. Y/N Y/L/N, the most reserved and studious Slytherin in their year, surely had a lot to say, but it was surprisingly the most relief he has felt in a long while, if ever. She gave his shoulder a little squeeze before picking up her belongings from the floor. Before she left his dorm she faced him once more.

“Will you be okay on your own?” She asks. Draco nods and gives his signature eyebrow raise. She chuckles.

“If you need anything, I’ll be in my dorm. I don’t plan on going to class today.” As he watches her leave, he notices the warmth that spreads over his chest. He brushes it off before flopping on his bed and immersing himself into the world of the Memory Police. For once in his life, he manages to escape the burdens of his family name. He escapes the burdensome fear of being considered a let-down to his parents. He escapes the rabbit hole of expectations, worries, pressures--the need to be “perfect” Draco. He finds an escape from the reputation that he upholds through you. Furthermore, he finds himself desiring more of your company. Because of this, he moves from his bed, with his book in hand, and strides into the girls’ dormitories. He never got her room number, but when he sees an open door, he automatically assumes that it’s her inside. Without thinking, he barges at the sight of her stunned face.

“Draco? What’s the matter?” The boy takes a good look at Y/N’s space. Her bed is made neatly and is stationed against the farmost wall in front of a large window. Her table is positioned at the end of her bed. There were a number of small bookcases that cover a majority of the perimeter of the room. It’s cozy.

He takes a moment to compose himself. “Is it alright if I can stay with you? Just a little longer?” The girl gives him a confused look, but agrees nevertheless.

“Sure, close the door.” He does as she says, and looks around. Her dorm truly reflected her personality. Her words break him out of his daze.

“You can sit on the bed if you’d like.” As he gets himself situated, he observes her. Y/N was known for her hardworking nature, and mostly stayed away from socialization because of it. In that regard, she never really had much to say unless she was answering a question during lectures. She doesn’t say much once he’s situated. Instead, she quietly turns back to her desk to focus on her note taking, actively highlighting important bits of information from her books. Draco was amazed to say the least.

“Y/N, why is it that you study so much?” He asks. Her gaze remains rooted to her work as she finished writing up the last sentence before gazing up at him. She grins.

“I’m working hard, so I can earn enough to give my mother a better life.” She says simply.

“Is the life you have right now not enough?” He doesn’t mean to come off as ignorant or insensitive, but he asks out of pure curiosity. Y/N only rubs her chin to think of a proper response.

“Don’t get me wrong, we’re both happy. I just suppose it would be nice to know that she wouldn’t have to worry about her resources. Life was always uncertain before opening Avenoir. I remember how she would hide away to cry so I wouldn’t see her tears. I felt helpless and I couldn’t do anything about it. I hate being weak because of that.” Draco simply gawked at her. The availability of resources has never been an issue for him; it felt like a slap on the face seeing how hard Y/N worked for that level of accessibility.

“I feel like a lot of people have been gawking at me today. Stop it.” You chuckled as you scratched the back of your neck, recalling the reactions of his friend group as you held a conversation with them.

“You’re surely something else, Y/L/N. That’s all.” Y/N only smiled as she removed herself from her desk. She pulled a random book from one of her shelves and sat herself next to Draco. Together they get lost within their own worlds.

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There was a mutual feeling of friendship that emerged between you and Draco. However, the both of you never bothered to make it obvious in the presence of others. Actions so far were limited to discrete nods towards each other in the hallways. Nevertheless, you were content. You didn’t see him constantly, but you heard people talk about him and how he hasn’t been teasing or picking fights with students as much as he did in the week prior. It was a change you were surprised with, but one that you were pleased to hear about regardless. Besides that, you still kept yourself to your own tasks throughout the remainder of the week. It was a set cycle, which involved going to lecture and studying within the confines of your room. Although, you had to admit that you enjoyed the blonde’s presence, and secretly wished that you’d spend more time together.

The weekend arrived, which meant you’d resume your work at the bookshop. The day flew by fast. Customers came bustling in by the hour that you never had much time to talk to your mother while you were working. As you waited for demands to trickle in, you occupied yourself with another book, The Happy Prince by Oscar Wilde. It was a pleasant book about selflessness, however you found your mind drifting off often. When you weren’t reading, you kept your eyes peeled for the entrance, hoping that a certain boy would come in. However, no sign of the Malfoy heir showed as hours passed. Your hopes soon depleted. Giving up on the chances of him coming, you resumed your reading.

It must’ve been about 20 minutes after 3 o’clock when your mother calls you from the counter. You heeded her request and made your way down the ladder. Behind her are large boxes filled with new books that were to be stored on the higher shelves. As you drag them to the base of the ladder, your back bumps into something hard.

“I’m so sorry! Are you al-” As you turn to identify the person you collided with, your eyes widened at the sight of Draco. Your heart skips a beat as you scan his appearance. He sported a black turtleneck that fitted securely around his torso, which was paired with dark plaid pants, and black leather chelsea boots. Rings adorned his fingers, and his platinum locks are slightly disheveled from the wind. He looked delicious rather expensive.

Draco was just as shocked when he realizes that it’s you he bumps into. You weren’t wearing anything fancy as he was--just a simple white shirt, straight jeans that ended just above your ankles, faded white sneakers, which was all adorned by the work apron that wrapped around your waist. Your hair was tied into a loose bun that settled at the nape of your neck with some stray strands framed around your face. It contrasted to your typical appearance at school. He preferred you in casual wear much more than in uniform, but he wasn’t going to admit that.

You straighten your posture, “Hey! What brings you here?” The boy in front of you rubs the back of his neck bashfully.

“I just wanted to spend time here. You offered on Monday.” His timidness made you smile.

“You’re definitely welcome to stay-” You were interrupted by your mother’s gleeful shout.

“Draco! It’s so nice to see you! Please do make yourself comfortable. I assume Y/N delivered the book safely?” You rolled your eyes and let out a groan.

“Yes, mother. I did.” She only laughs in response. “I extended an offer to have him hang around if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all! Would you like some tea, dear?” The warm welcome fills the boy’s heart.

He gives a polite nod, “That would be lovely, thank you.” He looks to you with amusement plastering his facial features.

“Would you like some help?” The smile that you give to him in response makes his heart flutter.

“I’ll be okay. Like what mother said, please make yourself comfortable.” You reassured him, before urging him to follow you to the back of the shop. Past the counter is a corridor that leads to a small outdoor patio. Fairy lights are strung on the edges of the fence that borders the space, and a table for two is set near the entrance that goes back into the store. As the sun begins to set, the small set up becomes even more charming.

“It’s not much, but this is us.” Your arms spread as you step towards the center of the patio. Draco looks around and then back at you.

“It’s lovely.” He states with a happy grin stretched across his lips. The space doesn’t hold the same grandeur as his manor, but within the small and cozy confines, he feels safe and content.

“I’m glad to hear that. Take a seat! I still have work to do, but I’ll be clocking out soon. Stay as long as you’d like!” The joy in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed. It’s quite difficult to suppress the emotions after the anticipation that has built up throughout the day. With your spirits lifted, you return to work. The load of the boxes don’t seem as heavy as they used to.

Draco sits around in silence for a bit with his hands clasped together. The thought of being within your personal space makes his knees bounce up and down as he waits for his tea. Wanting to release his nerves, he explores the compound a bit more. He steps into the corridor, taking notice of the way it’s decorated. Pictures of you and your mother grace the walls. The sight urges him to look out in the front of the shop. He catches you piling books in your arms before making your way up the ladder. In doing so, he takes note of your focused face, the furrowing of your eyebrows, and the slight parting of your lips. Your eyes blazed in determination, sparking that particular warmth in his chest again. Draco tore his gaze from you and redirected it to the photos mounted on the wall. One that caught his interest was of you on your mothers back. Your small arms were wrapped tightly around her shoulders as your small face peered over her with a small toothy grin. He notices the light in your eyes. It had remained the same ever since. He stares at the photos for a couple of minutes.

“You found our pictures!” Your mother comes up from behind him, startling him slightly. She responds to his reaction with a hearty chuckle as she worms her way through the corridor, Draco following closely behind her. They sit across from each other, and the boy watches her as she sets a cup before him. She takes the tea pot and pours the liquid carefully.

“How do you like your tea, dear?” She asks.

“Slight cream, no sugar, Mrs. Y/L/N” Your mother looks at the boy. His shoulders are stiff and he’s tense all over. His hands look clammy. Basically, Draco looks nervous.

“I don’t bite. Don’t worry, love. Relax.” She gives the boy’s hand a reassuring squeeze. It was much similar to the feel of yours. He relaxes a little bit, adding cream to his drink.

“Y/N speaks very highly of you.” He states a matter-of-factly.

“Is that so?” A smile appears, “How’s my daughter at school?”

“She’s a really hard worker. Everyone knows her for her intelligence, but she is rather quiet. Much different than the way she acts here. She is so vibrant.”

Draco takes notice of the surprised look in your mother’s eyes, “Oh my dear, if I’m being truthful to you, it’s been so long since I’ve last seen her vibrant side shine through. She’s more demure in character. It’s not common for her to act that way.” Draco didn’t completely understand why, but hearing those words made his heart skip beats. He didn’t respond for a bit, allowing her words to sink in. Out of nowhere, Y/N calls out to her mother signalling the completion of her task. Her head pops from the door frame, and she glances at the tea briefly before shifting her view to the boy.

“Y/N! Why don’t you give Draco some company and have some tea? You can go to your room after!” You cough, but merely nodded in response. You seat yourself in the chair that was once occupied.

“How’s work?” Draco asks. He takes the kettle and pours you a cup.

“Busy as always, but it’s a pleasure to be here.” You thank him for the tea and proceed to adding your preferred amounts of cream and sugar.

“You look handsome today, by the way.” You took a sip of your tea so you wouldn't see his reaction. The boy only beamed.

“You look pretty too, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle as you set down your cup.

“You’re telling me that when I’m dressed in a t-shirt and some ragged jeans?” You didn’t really know what kind of answer to expect. For the most part, you felt average in your get up. He, on the other hand, looked like a model.

“Yes I am. You are pretty.” You only smile at your feet and thank him. The boy was charming without the pompous get up. Ever since that Monday morning, you began to develop appreciation for this genuine side that he showed you.

As time passed, your mother closed up the shop. Both you and Draco offered to help her, but she denied almost immediately. Instead, she insisted that you take the boy up, causing you to palm your face in embarrassment. However, you eventually agree and lead the way. Within the corridor were stairs that led to a second level. You and Draco climb them and turn to the first door on your right. Your room was slightly bigger than the one at school. It was furnished in a fashion that was similar to your dorm, but there were a lot more books--this time stacks of them could be seen littering the floor.

“Did you bring your book?” He nodded and fished it out from his back pocket.

He briefly scans the room, “Did you read all of these?” You nod with an embarrassed smile.

“I bet you’d love the library in the manor.” Your eyes widened at the sound of it. A tinge of excitement sprouted from your gut as you begin to imagine its vastness.

“I don’t think you’re wrong. I bet it’s quite the sight!” Delight could be heard from your voice. Draco only tries to suppress a smile.

“Maybe one day.” He mutters to himself, hoping that you didn’t hear. However, when he looks up, he’s met with your wide smile. He blushes immediately and curses under his breath.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll pretend I didn’t.” You wink at him, and pull out your book. You flopped on your bed, patting the space next to you. When he situates himself by your side, you begin to pick up where you left off, already pushing the outside world aside. Draco sits with his legs crossed, and copies your actions. Silence fills the both of you as an hour passes. However, he’d take opportunities to sneak small glances at you once in a while. Your focus on the pages never shifted. If anything, the furrowing of your brows deepen as you turn with every page. With his curiosity getting the best of him, he leans closer to you to see what was so interesting. His actions don’t go by unnoticed, though. As soon as you felt his knee come into contact with yours, you realize how close he has gotten since you started reading.

“May I help you, Malfoy?” You ask, slightly amused.

“What’s your book about?” He asks. You tense your brows as you come up with an answer, not wanting to spoil anything.

“It’s about the friendship between a statue of a very selfless prince and a swallow. What about yours?��

“I’d never thought I would like fiction, but I do like this one. It’s about a girl who protects a person who can remember.”

“Remembers?”You ask with genuine curiosity. Draco nods, his eyes expressing the interest he has for the novel.

“Things on the island vanish, and the majority of the people have no recollection of it after it disappears. The people who show any signs of remembering get taken away.” Your interest for the plot increases

“That sounds very interesting. Do you think we can trade when we finish?”

“I think it sounds like a plan.” You stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before a snapping noise is heard. Suddenly your hair loosens, and you realize that the rubber band holding your hair together gave out. Draco looked at you with an eyebrow raised. As you reach to pull the remnants of the tie away, your hair frees itself. Some strands framed your face, while the rest flowed over your shoulders and covered the expanse of your back. You run your fingers through the front and they fall into curtain-like waves. Draco on the other hand is taken aback at your sudden change of appearance. Prior to getting to know who you were, nothing much was thought of you with the exception of your brains. Besides that, you were rather plain looking, always having your hair up in a braid or a ponytail.

It was a seemingly natural reaction to let your hair simply flow. You really didn’t think much of it. But, when you met Draco’s surprised look, it was your turn to raise a brow at him. He really didn’t know what overtook him, or why these particular words fell out without thinking, but both hearts were racing and ears turned warm after he spoke out.

“Merlin, Y/N. You’re bloody gorgeous.” It caught him off guard. Your expression was the only thing that made him come to terms with the reality of it.

“I- You- You weren’t supposed to-”

“Thank you.” Draco’s jitters stopped in an instant when he saw the way you smiled up at him. Noticing the silence that settles in, you quickly think of something to break it.

“Should I wear it down at school? I’ve been thinking about it. It’s time for a ch-” You were startled by how quick his response was.

“No! Absolutely not!” He speaks frantically.

“-ange. Okay, then. Sheesh.” You both just laugh at his sudden outburst. Draco’s, however, was a nervous one.

After a couple more minutes of reading, a savory aroma fills your senses, and your mother calls out to you both for dinner. The food was pleasant, but it was the actual state of togetherness that lit Draco’s heart. Although the warm feeling of you and your mother’s company was foreign to him, he was glad to have been able to experience it. The entirety of his stay lifts a huge weight off of his shoulders. Moreover, he begins to acknowledge the budding emotions that he feels for you. He felt each beat of his heart more profoundly within the small moments that you shared, with every glance that he took, and with every laugh that spilled from your lips.

You stare up at the clock, taking note of the time. It was already 7:30 PM. Curfew was at 9:00 for fifth years.

“Mother, I think it’s time that we get going. I’ll see you next week.” You notify her of your departure as you help clear out the table.

“Oh, it’s that time of the day already? Very well then. I’m so glad you stopped by today, Draco. You’re welcome here anytime. Let me see the both of you out.” After you give her a hug, you make your way to the main room of the store. Draco thought you were going to exit, and was brought to confusion when you suddenly stopped in your tracks.

Draco clears his throat, “So, do you know how exactly we’ll get back?” It was already late and the boats that transported students to and from Hogsmeade were closed for the day.

“Are you a fan of portkeys?” You ask. Draco’s eyes widened.

“Have you created an illegal one?” When you don't answer, he just laughs. You rummage through your bag, picking out a random book. When you open it, there’s a postcard with a picture of Hogsmeade on the front.

“It’s a touch-activated one. It goes straight into my dorm.” You look up at him to see a devious-looking smirk plastered on his lips.

“You really are something else.” He whispers. You roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Let’s touch it on the count of three, okay? 1...2...3.” At the touch of the object, Draco felt his body get sucked into a bind, lights flashing, and your surroundings blacking out until it wasn’t. He kept his eyes shut the whole time. The entire instance occurred for a second. When you arrived at your destination, you felt fine, having gotten used to the uncomfortable sensation resulting from the mode of transportation. The boy who isn’t as experienced, however, didn’t find himself so lucky, and opted to lay down on your bed for a moment, closing his eyes to regain his strength. As you gave him time to rest, you took the opportunity to change into something more comfortable, taking advantage of the fact that he wouldn’t be aware of you doing so.

When he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by the familiar confines of your dorm. They roamed around until stopping at your changing figure. You had slipped on a jumper, which was paired with loose fitting sweats, the waistband wrapping securely on your hips. The only source of light was that of the moon as it radiated through your window and onto your bedroom floor. It casted a surreal glow upon your features, and Draco couldn’t help but stare.

“Would you like some water? I know the experience could be unpleasant.” Your voice was soft and was followed by the sound of your melodic giggle.

“Y/N, you’re mental if you tell me you do that every week.” He says astoundedly. You nod with a grin and shrug your shoulders as you passed him a cup of water. He takes it gratefully and gulps it down as you sit on the edge of your bed.

“You should probably get back to your dorm soon and take some rest. Do you need any help?” He shakes his head, but is betrayed by his body as he stumbles out of your bed. With quick reflexes, you hold him steady, allowing him to regain his balance quickly.

“Are you sure?” You ask doubtedly. He reassures you by straightening his posture and flashing a smile. You return it as you walk him to the door. He stands in the hallway, facing you as you lean against your door frame. You rushedly look left and right to ensure no one was looking before shifting your attention back to him.

“It was nice having you today. Mother was really happy you came by.”

“How about you?” The boy catches your gaze once more. You only looked at him with a raised brow, queuing the need for clarification.

“How do you feel about my company?” What he asked caught you off guard, but you couldn’t deny the joy that you felt being around him. The comfort you felt from reading alone didn’t compare to the calm silence that situated you both when you did it together. It was the simple yet overwhelming feeling of contentment--the feeling of someone entering your heart silently, gently, and with a rush all at the same time. Pure bliss was what it was, but you couldn’t formulate the words when he asked you. The boy smirked at your lack of response. Instead, he bent over to meet your eye level and leaned in. You held your breath within your throat as he drew closer, ultimately shutting your eyes in anticipation for who knows what. Draco noticed the slight change in your body language and softened the look in his eyes. His orbs, which were once filled with amusement, were now filled with adoration. He looked at your expression, before reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You opened your eyes, meeting his gentle gaze. Shocked, Draco backed away, shoving his hands into his pockets.

He stammered, “Y-You had something on your ear.” A flush had spread over his cheeks.

“Oh, is that so? Were you able to remove it?” You ran your fingers through your hair, oblivious of his frantic behavior. In your mind, you only wish it could’ve been more.

“Y-yea!” A nervous laugh leaves his lips. After he recollects himself for a few more seconds he says, “We should do this again sometime.” To which you happily agree.

You both bid each other ‘goodnight’. As you close the door, you lean your back against the wall, and slide down to the floor. You took note of the way your heart began to race when you recalled the events of today. The sound of his laughs, his subtle attempts to get close to you, his expression of interest towards the things that you treasured. Your image of Draco had begun to transform right under your nose.

Little did you know that as the boy walked back to his dorm room that night, the same thoughts ran through his mind. Although he was tired, he would constantly think about the way you looked when you were working, or when you were reading, or how your hair came undone. Moreover, he felt safe within your hospitality--it wasn’t forceful or intrusive, it just flowed naturally. This small escape made a huge improvement from the broken state you found him in that Monday prior. That night, as he laid in bed, he read his book peacefully until sleep took over his consciousness, filling his rest with dreams of reading with you by his side.

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

It was a brisk Sunday morning when you found yourself at the Great Hall for breakfast. You were always one of the earlier students who came right when the doors opened. By the time you got yourself situated, only a few students trickled their way into the massive room.

Your hand took hold of your book as the other filled your mouth with food. Your concentration blazed as you immersed yourself into the world of the Oscar Wilde that you didn’t realize how filled the hall became once you put your book down. The reason for you doing so stemmed from the sound of a presence that sat before you. You never had company when you ate, so when you looked up you were surprised to see Draco settling in the seat in front of you. Murmurs from other students could be heard at the peculiar sight.

“This seat isn’t taken I presume?” He asks. The typical Malfoy smirk graces his lips as he lowers himself down.

“Not at all.” You respond simply. You look around with a weirded expression. People had their eyes on the two of you. One in particular caught your attention. It was Astoria Greengrass, also dubbed as the Slytherin princess. She had an annoyed look on her face, but you brushed it off, turning back to the boy in front of you.

“Aren’t your friends waiting for you?” You nodded towards the familiar group of people.

“I can’t read around them. They’re too loud.” Once the statement leaves his lips, he pulls out The Memory Police and finds himself in the same stature you were in previously. You smile inwardly before taking a few bites of your food. It’s silent and you can still feel the lingering stares around you. They begin to get annoying after a while.

“Leave them be. They can stare all they want, but I’m not moving anywhere.” He says as though he read your mind. He glances at you from the top of his book, but his tone remains unfazed.

“How’d you know?” You inquire.

“You have ‘uncomfy’ written all over your face, Y/N.” He keeps his gaze stuck to his book while stuffing a piece of scrambled egg into his mouth. You narrow your eyes at him before slowly opening your own again.

“What are you planning to do today?” He asks suddenly. You look up to see that his eyes never left the page. Your look at your own, except you’re not reading this time.

“Probably read at the lake, go to my dorm and read some more.”

“Do you do anything else besides read?”

“I study.” You could feel his eyes roll.

“Besides that.” You lower your hands seeing that you aren’t getting anywhere with the plot.

“What else is there to do on Sundays?” You laugh, “Well what do you plan on doing today?”

Your conversation gets interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. There stands Astoria Greengrass, arms crossed with an envious expression on her face. She looks at you then to Draco.

“Hey Dray. I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out with me at Hogsmeade today?” She asks with a sickly flirtatious tone. She squeezes his shoulder while you just roll your eyes and look away to mentally gag.

“You must be blind to notice. I’m preoccupied if you can’t tell.” The sound of his tone is cold, much akin to the one he uses when he’s bullying someone. However, a smirk sneaks up to your lips as you keep your gaze lowered. The girl only scoffs before turning to you.

“Cute little book you got there Y/L/N. You always have your nose buried in one, don’t you? What’s that one about this time?” You take note of her condescending voice, which slightly pulls on your nerves.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Greengrass? Sorry love, I’m too preoccupied to explain.” You wiggle your book at her before getting up. You throw the boy your version of his eyebrow raise before turning to leave.

“I’ll see you around ‘Dray’.” You say, imitating Astoria’s tone. You looked at her from head to toe and scoffed as you walked out of the hall. You couldn’t be bothered to deal with the likes of her. For the most part, giving her any piece of your energy was not worth it. You find yourself walking down the corridor before hearing the sound of someone running to you. You stop in your tracks and turn around to see the familiar platinum-haired boy.

“You need some company at the lake?” He asks. Your face, which was once filled with annoyance, releases its tension, and transforms into a gentle smile.

“I don’t need it, but you’re free to come along if you’d like to.” You turn your back quickly before getting a response out of him. He follows you.

Throughout the walk, Draco notices that your hair is up in a braid again, smiling as he reminisces the sequence of events that occurred the night prior. Could you have kept it up because he said so? Such thoughts filled his mind with interest. The events that happened in the hall also made him wonder. He had never seen you agitated before.

“I never thought you’d respond like that.” He says to start up conversation.

“To Astoria?” He nods.

“Not worth my time or energy. I may be quiet, but I’m not a pushover...Dray.” You tease him with the nickname, although he doesn’t mind it when it comes from you.

“It sounds better when you say it.” He says, making you shake your head in response.

“I was about to choke myself. Merlin, did you hear the way she said it? It’s enough to make your ears bleed. Bloody hell.” The way you release your frustration gives the both of you something to laugh about. That familiar feeling of comfort overcoming you both once again.

“Do you think she’s going to approach me again?” You ask.

“Knowing her, she might.”

“Merlin, avada me now.” Draco only laughs louder at the sound of your displeasure. By the time you reach the lake, the sun is seen casting its rays upon the water. Clouds are still in the sky, but the overall scene is bright and beautiful, assuring that it was going to be a good day.

You sit on a patch of grass that meets the sand, while Draco assumes the seat beside you. Before you could even begin to read, the boy takes the opportunity to ask you another question.

“How far are you from finishing your book?”

“I’m almost done. Give me a few minutes and I should be finished.” His eyes widened slightly

“Fast reader aren’t you?”

“No, well, maybe. There are more stories in this book. The Happy Prince so happens to be one of them.” He nods, allowing that particular conversation to end. He lays down on the grass, ready to read in the process, but is caught staring at the expanse of your neck. Your braid reaches the middle of your back, swaying in the wind. When he takes sight of the band that holds it together, he reaches out, hoping that you won’t notice, and pulls it off. He swiftly drops it to make it seem like he hasn’t done anything, so by the time you turn around to identify the cause of the loosened sensation, he already has the book propped on top of his legs, gazing at the lines with much concentration.

“Did you see anything?” You ask with a raised brow. He simply nods, trying to hide the smirk on his face. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you though.

“Draco. Was it you?” When he doesn’t respond, you laugh.

“You’re such a git.” Your fingertips trace the sand to locate the rubber band, but the boy stops you before going any further. He wraps his hand around your wrist, while catching your gaze.

“It looks better down.” He says firmly.

“But you said-”

“I don’t want you letting it loose for others to see. In front of me is fine.” He holds your gaze for what seemed to eternity before slowly loosening his grip on your hand.

He then proceeds to ask, “Can I touch it? Your hair?” You smile and nod at him. He takes the opportunity to scoot closer behind you. After he situates himself at a comfortable distance, he reaches out to your loosened braid, and gently runs his fingers through it, breaking it up entirely. Your strands are soft in his touch, and the light from the sun only emphasizes how shiny it is. You pay no mind to the boy’s doing. Instead, you continue reading while he plays with your hair.

After 15, perhaps 20 minutes of reading, you finally finish your book. It is then that you notice that he’s still stroking your locks. Slightly amused, you look up from your book and decide to tease him for a bit.

“Are you having fun back there?” Your question is accompanied with a giggle.

“Most fun I’ve had in years.” Sarcasm laced through his voice. “Can you teach me how to braid?” Your head turns back, but you’re only faced with a serious expression.

“What’s the sudden interest?” As you ask your question, the breeze picks up, eliciting a shiver out of you. It takes a second for Draco to notice how thin your clothes were.

“Why don’t we go inside? It’s warmer and you can teach me how to braid your hair.”

“You’re so insistent, aren’t you?”

“Not insistent, just ambitious.” You rolled your eyes as he lifted you from the ground.

You both make your way to the dungeons, taking the familiar route that leads to his room. You don’t protest the destination as much, only being grateful that it was warmer than the harsh change in climate outside of these walls. You can’t help but recall how much has drastically changed since the week prior, but it warmed your heart knowing that there was more to Draco than what meets the eye.

As you enter the dorm, you take notice of all the luxurious details that embellish everything from his furniture to the style of his clothes. It was much more put together since the last time you found yourself there. The crisp scent of apples filled your nose, allowing yourself to ooze into the comfort of the environment. You show no hesitance to flop on his bed, seeing as he has done so to yours a number of times already. While doing so, he discards his robes and hangs it over a coat rack. The sight of you brings out a small smile from him as he claims the seat next to you.

“Now, where were we?” He asks. You proceed to sectioning your hair into two parts. You hand him one, which he takes gently all while focusing his concentration on the demonstration you show.

“Okay, so we start off with three sections…” He does as you say.

“Now I take this, and flip it over this section.” He repeats. Only the sounds of his breaths can be heard.

“Now you do it to the other side, and repeat the pattern.” As you demonstrate with your strands, a shocked expression fills his face as he tries to repeat your actions. He gets it eventually, although his braid is much messier and unkept in comparison to yours, which is tight and neat. A familiar scowl appears on his face, but you try to keep your laughter in. In all fairness, he really was trying.

“Here. Take all of it. Try braiding my hair.” You run your fingers, deleting both your work and his, and turn so that your back is facing him. You keep your sights set towards the window, as he begins to work his way through your hair. He starts off by combing his fingers through your locks, which felt annoyingly good. He then proceeds to repeat everything that he has learned within the last five minutes. Him doing so only proved how quick of a learner he was. Silence filled you both, and as time drifted on, you ended up dozing off into sleep. It is only when Draco finishes that he notices you. He tugs at his final product slightly to see the expression on your face, but in doing so, you fall onto his chest as soft snores find their way out of your lips.

“And she calls me a git. Look at her sleeping while I handle her hair.” His eyes soften at the gentleness of your own expression before he scans the way your arms have wrapped themselves across your waist. Ensuring that you were sound asleep, he carefully reaches for your hand, forcing it to open as he slightly interlaces his fingers with yours. He takes a moment to comprehend the situation, his face warming up when he realizes that your back is slouched against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, and one of his hands clasped delicately into yours.

It’s when his eyes land on your resting face once more that he recalls all that you are, all that you have shown him. He then envisions the long-term, imagining all he has yet to discover about you. The care that you’ve shown him by far is more than what anyone has done throughout his life. He revisits the week before when you mentioned reading as a way to escape. Now that as he has you lying against him, he thinks of the possibility that his real escape is actually you. His mind finds pleasure in that thought, and it only makes his heart race when he thinks about what could possibly happen between you two tomorrow, or the day after that, a week, month, year. What answer would he receive by then? He isn’t even sure if you’d say ‘yes’ to an offer in a relationship, especially knowing how focused you are with your school work. Ridding the thoughts for another time, Draco slowly lays his back down against the mattress, bringing you carefully along with him. Your legs become entangled with his. His hand never leaves yours.

Ensuring that you were certainly asleep, he whispers softly to the air, “I think I like you, Y/N.” He wraps his other arm around you before falling into a peaceful slumber.

A/N: I don’t think this is the end, but that’s not the point! I hope you enjoyed it :) Any feedback is very much appreciated hehe.

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy imagines #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #slytherin imagines

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salthaven · 4 years

Text

An Odd Day for a Normal Girl

@soap-lady I’m not quite sure I did this right, and I wrote this in an odd haze of ‘what’s the most ridiculous way Marinette could end up dating her crush, who is also a superhero, to the point where she questions life’ and this mess of like 3k words appeared so...here we go? Thanks for the prompt, haha!

An Odd Day for a Normal Girl

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a normal girl with a normal life. She goes to school with her best friend who’s a model, she designs for superstars, and she’s head over heels for one half of the Parisian superhero duo that saves the city on a weekly basis. Just like any average girl.

Okay, so maybe that’s not quite normal. Maybe Marinette should explain a bit. Maybe…

So basically, there’s this crazy guy named Hawkmoth. He wants the Miraculous- those are magical pieces of jewelry, no she’s not crazy- of the Ladybug and Black Cat. Those two are in use, being held and wielded by Scarlet Lord and Chat Noir, two heroes who protect civilians from danger and stop the Akuma- Hawkmoth’s monster villain guys- from destroying everything. Understood? Great.

So Marinette may or may not have a crush on Scarlet Lord, but she has good reasons! The reasons: He’s kind, polite, charming. (Not to mention he’s literally saved her life over twenty times by now.) So maybe she’s a bit of a damsel in distress, she can’t help how she turns to mush when he looks at her! And God forbid if he protects her, her brain practically shuts off from the overheating of her face. She’s lucky that she doesn’t know the boy behind the mask, she’d die on the spot from embarrassment!

(It doesn’t help that all of her friends encourage her feelings. Even Félix, her normally calm- albeit rather easily flustered- friend when it comes to matters of the heart, encourages her ‘pursuit’, as he calls it.)

Speaking of the blond, Félix is the cousin of Marinette’s best friend- Adrien Agreste. Local heartthrob and Paris’s sunshine child, Adrien is the poster child of the perfect son. He’s smart, fluent in multiple languages, great at fencing, and has a natural knack for physics. He’s a model, with good looks and a father who is a king of fashion. He’s the stereotypical rich kid- until people look away. Then he’s punning away, sneaking off in little acts of rebellion to hide in Marinette’s house where they play Ultimate Mecha Strike and eat pastries until their fingers are sore and their stomachs are full.

Oh, and what’s more? Adrien is Chat Noir, holder of the Black Cat Miraculous. His ‘kwami’, as he calls it, accidentally outed himself when Marinette brought up cheese pastries for the first time.

Of course, this naturally means he’s become Marinette’s wingman, determined to get his best friend together with his partner in crime- er, uncrime? Partner in defeating crime? Marinette isn’t good at making up names...but she is good at designing.

Which brings up the last thing. Marinette wants to be a designer, that much everyone knows. She’s done work for Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and a few others by now. She’s been praised by Audrey Bourgeois and Gabriel Agreste...and she works under Félix’s mother, Amelie, as an intern.

(She’s still not convinced that Félix didn’t pull a few strings. ‘A keen eye for talent’, sure. Marinette is still grateful and honored, of course.)

So yeah. A normal life, right?

But that’s enough about Marinette. For now, she needs to get to school. If she’s late,

Félix and Adrien will make fun of her for the rest of the day. “She can already hear Félix’s exasperated, “How can you even do this? You live right across the street!” paired with Adrien’s giggles.)

Luckily, Marinette gets to class a few minutes before the bell, giving her time to sit in her spot behind Adrien and pull out her stuff. Félix is already in his spot beside her, reading his book. He looks up at her with a small smile and approving nod before turning back to his reading. Marinette doesn’t try bugging him, she knows just how much the blond likes his quiet time before class starts.

The other blond, however, does not want quiet in the morning, and is quick to turn around in his spot to beam up at her, accidentally knocking Nino a bit with his sudden turn.

“Marinette!” Adrien cheers. “How have you been? How was your night? Anything interesting? Ooh, did you start working on that new design you were telling me about?” He’s practically bouncing in excitement, and Marinette can’t help but giggle as she nods.

“I’ve been good, my night was good, and yes. I’ve started gathering all of the fabrics that I’ll need for my Scarlet Lord design. I think I’m going to make it the dress, rather than the suit.”

Félix’s head jerks up at Marinette’s words. “You’re making a Scarlet Lord themed dress?”

“Yeah?”

Félix’s face turns oddly red as he nods stiffly. “I see. Tell me how it goes?”

“Sure?” Marinette blinks, confused by the sudden awkwardness in Félix’s posture, the stiffness that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“Thank you,” he says, and then turns back to his book.

Odd.

“Anyways,” Adrien sighs out after a moment, cutting through the silence, “I still think you should make a Chat Noir design.

Marinette snorts. “Okay, Adrien. Maybe I’ll make a skirt one day?”

“Or a hoodie!” Adrien leans further over his chair, eyes bright. “You could give it little cat ears.”

“Absolutely not,” Marinette says teasingly.

“Why not?”

“Simple. I’m not a furry like Chat Noir is.”

Adrien sputters, face pink. “Chat Noir is not a furry.”

“He wears cat ears. And a tail.”

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Adrien,” Félix interrupts, setting his book back down. “He wears a bell.”

Marinette laughs at the wounded expression on Adrien’s face. “See? Félix gets it.”

“W-well, Scarlet Lord is a buggy, so-”

“A what?”” Félix cuts Adrien off again, nose curled in disgust.

“A buggy. You know, the insect version of a furry. Even weirder,” Adrien sniffs with disdain. “And you guys think Chat Noir is weird.”

“Scarlet Lord is not a buggy!” Marinette says with a huff. “He doesn’t wear fake antennas or anything! The guy doesn’t even have wings.”

Adrien smirks. “Marinette, you’re even weirder than Chat Noir or Scarlet Lord.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you have the biggest crush on a buggy.”

Marinette feels like her face is up in flames as she tries to respond. She’s too busy sputtering to see how Félix blushes and looks away.

Luckily for Marinette, the Akuma alarm goes off. (Okay, maybe that isn’t something to feel lucky about, but Marinette lives in an odd world!) With the alarm, Adrien jolts in his seat, quickly dashing out of the room with a rushed excuse of, “Gotta go bathroom bye!”

Marinette snorts, missing how Félix slips out right behind his cousin as she turns to face the class.

“Where’s the Akuma?” She asks Alya, who’s already pulling up the news. The aspiring journalist always seems to know what’s up, and clears her throat after a few seconds.

“Heading this way. Another love Akuma, apparently he got rejected and doesn’t want anyone else to feel the same. Name is Bleeding Heart.” Alya’s eyes widen. “Oh shit! Guys, he’s outside the school.”

Marinette gulps, hearing the sudden loud and heavy footsteps that only an Akuma can have. In a flash, she’s jumping up. “Everyone, we need to move,” she urges, but it’s too late. Suddenly, the door is being slammed open, and the class gasps.

Bleeding Heart smiles, and Marinette shivers at the pure glee on his face that contrasts with the dark blue tear tracks that fall down his face. He turns his head slowly, eyeing everyone in the room before chuckling.

“Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match,” he mutters to himself, then nods. “Of course! For you, I’ll find the perfect pairings. After all, nobody should ever feel how I have.” Nodding once more, the man lifts both of his hands, forms finger guns, and ‘fires’. Suddenly, red strings shoot from the tips of his fingers, one latching onto Max, the other hitting Alix. Bleeding Heart snaps his fingers, and the ends remove themselves from their fingers and fly to their other half, tying together in a heart-shaped knot.

Marinette feels her eyes widen as Alix and Max turn to each other with love-stricken smiles.

“Alix,” Max says, stepping closer, the string retracting with every move. “I know there is a ninety nine point nine percent chance that I feel this way due to Bleeding Heart’s attack, but the point zero one percent moves me to confess that I have fallen in love with you.”

Alix blushes, moving closer as well. “I love you too, nerd.” They’re right in front of each other, and then they’re leaning in and-

Marinette looks away as Bleeding Heart fires again, quickly latching Sabrina and Kim together.

“Brains and brawns, a perfect pair!” Bleeding Heart cheers as he snaps his fingers. Then he turns again, and his grin turns into a beam. “Oh, look at you two! You’ve already found your match, how sweet!”

Marinette spares a glance back, and sees how Rose cowers behind Juleka, the goth holding a protective stance in front of the blonde. Both blush, but neither correct the Akuma. Which is smart, because he quickly moves on to find a new target.

His eyes lock onto her, and Marinette tenses.

“Little dear, you’re so lonely! We simply must find you somebody to call your other half! Let’s see, who might it be?”

“I believe you should let her choose for herself,” Scarlet Lord’s voice rings clear through the air, and Marinette feels her heartbeat racing as he steps closer.

“You!” Bleeding Heart cheers. “You must be her other half!” He raises his fingers, and Marinette feels her eyes widen.

“Don’t waste your time, they’re already an item,” Chat Noir says cheekily as he tosses his baton at the Akuma.

“They are?” Bleeding Heart asks, eyes showing distrust and hope all at once.

Marinette freezes, mouth open but no response coming out. Part of her screams to say yes, because they can’t risk her being attached to Scarlet Lord. He’d be slowed down in battle by their string, and if he was forced to love her, that’d be a distraction. And yet another part of her yells no, because it feels selfish to force Scarlet Lord to pretend, to play into a false relationship with her. Because it wouldn’t feel fake, even just for the few minutes, for her. Marinette knows her feelings, knows she’d-

“We are,” Scarlet Lord says calmly. “And I don’t appreciate you threatening my dear.”

Marinette feels her face heat up at the gasps around the room, and shrinks in on herself.

“How precious,” Bleeding Heart cooes. “What a shame that I have to take your Miraculous now.” Then he leaps at Scarlet Lord, hand outstretched. Luckily, Scarlet Lord is as quick as he is smart, and jumps out of reach, swinging his yoyo to knock the window open before pulling Marinette to his side.

“Let’s go, love,” Scarlet Lord says, and then he’s racing to the window and leaping out, pulling them away from danger. The wind races through Marinette’s ears as the classroom becomes farther and farther away, and Bleeding Heart becomes a spec chasing after them, Chat Noir behind him, trying to distract the Akuma.

When they’ve gained enough distance, Scarlet sets her down. It’s only now that Marinette sees how red faced the hero is.

She has no doubt that her face is matching.

“Thank you,” Marinette breathes out. Scarlet, somehow, turns even redder.

“Of course. I couldn’t let you get hurt, my dear,” Scarlet says softly, and then he looks away. “Your...friend was live streaming, wasn’t she?”

Marinette blinks, then gasps. “Alya? Oh, oh no…” Knowing the journalist, Alya had likely started recording the moment Bleeding Heart entered the room...meaning the whole city would soon know of Marinette and Scarlet Lord’s ‘relationship’. “She probably was.”

Scarlet nods. “I see.”

“I’m sure that we can explain what happened later!” Marinette says quickly, although her heart squeezes. She tries to push away the odd hopefulness in her heart as she continues. “They’d understand! I mean, we haven’t been seen together in public often-”

“I’ve saved you at least twenty times by now, my dear,” Scarlet Lord corrects. “And you’ve helped me in battles with my Lucky Charm-” a flash of light, and a tube of spotted lipstick falls from the sky, “multiple times. Oh, shit.” Scarlet Lord glares at the object in his hand as if it offended him, then sighs. “I have a feeling that if we try to explain it away, the people of Paris will only believe I am trying to protect you from harm.”

Marinette frowns, eyes scanning the city. (It’s to watch for danger, she tells herself, not because she’s too scared to look into Scarlet Lord’s eyes and see annoyance or, worse, indifference.) “I suppose you’re right. So...what should we do?”

“Well, we can always pretend to be dating,” Scarlet Lord suggests. “And after a few weeks, if you’d like, we can break it off. Say that it was too dangerous, that it’s too risky to try.”

“Right. You’re right, it’d be stupid to continue,” Marinette agrees, and a little bit of her heart cracks.

“I’m sorry,” Scarlet whispers, so soft that Marinette almost misses it. “I know this must be...upsetting.”

Marinette forces herself to laugh, blinking away tears that spring forth as she thinks of the irony in her life, that she’d be stuck fake dating her crush, and accidentally rejected without ever confessing. “Why would it be upsetting?” Marinete asks, facing him with a forced grin. “I mean, who else gets to claim they’re dating the Scarlet Lord?” She looks away, the grin falling. “Let’s...let’s go defeat the Akuma. Maybe he’ll...maybe he’ll be distracted if he sees us acting like a couple?”

“Of course,” Scarlet Lord agrees, and then, as if in a story, his yoyo begins to ring. He answers it, Chat’s face filling the screen.

“Hey, are you two done talking or whatever?” Chat asks, leaping behind a building before glancing away. “Because Bleeding Heart is getting real pissed that I won’t stand still long enough for him to pair me up with anyone, and I don’t exactly have someone to claim as my secret girlfriend right now!” The words pierce Marinette’s heart, and she shifts uncomfortably as Scarlet Lord sighs.

“We’re on our way. Where are you, Chat Noir?”

“I’m on the- oh shoot!” Chat jumps out of the way as a red string flies past him. “Gotta go, check my location, bye!”

The call ends.

“Let’s get to the fight,” Scarlet says lightly, and then he pulls her to his side once more before swinging off…

Bleeding Heart is easy to deal with. Sure, Scarlet ends up having to run off and detransform right after they get there (thanks again, Lucky Charm), but when he comes back he’s fierce and fast, taking the Akuma down with ease. The moment Miraculous Ladybug is cast, Marinette finds herself backing away from the fight. Of course, life isn’t quite so easy.

“Miss!” A reporter cries out, darting over to her. “How does it feel to be dating one of the heroes of Paris?”

A second man shoves a microphone in her face, adding on, “How long have you been dating? How did he ask you out? Is it hard to date when one half hides behind a mask?”

“Do you know his identity?” A third person questions, more following suit, and Marinette feels herself freezing once more.

But then Scarlet lays a hand on her shoulder protectively, and Marinette leans into his hold. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t interrogate my dear,” he says, voice icier than she’s ever heard, and the reporters freeze. “Our love life is private, and the details are for the two of us to know.” He glares at the reporters, then turns to Marinette. “Would you like me to drop you off at home, love?”

Marinette blushes scarlet, shaking her head slowly. “I, I should head back to class.”

“Of course. Allow me to be of service.” With a soft smile, he lifts her up gently before heading off.

Marinette tries to ignore how her heart sings while her stomach drops. It’s all too much.

He reaches the school too fast and yet all too slow, and sets her down as gently as possible, making sure that she regains her footing on the ground before letting go of her completely. Marinette backs up, trying to head back to class, to pretend that this day hasn’t been mortifying and painful, that she won’t cry from embarrassment and heartbreak later on.

“Thanks,” Marinette says, then rushes inside. She misses the look of longing on her hero’s face.

It’s worse at school, with her classmates over the moon by the sudden news.

“I thought you just had a crush on him!” Alya exclaims. “I had no clue you were dating!”

“We wanted privacy,” Marinette forces the words out, trying not to find joy. She’s disgusting, leeching happiness out of this mess, isn’t she?

Adrien smiles apologetically, and Marinette sighs. She can’t blame him, he was just trying to help. She smiles back as best as she can, and he seems to slump in relief. Then class resumes, and Marinette uses the last of her willpower to focus on the lesson and ignore the looks she’s getting from her classmates.

She misses the way Félix watches her, eyes soft and searching for the right answer. She just keeps her eyes on the board...

-----

Marinette sighs as she curls up deeper into her blankets, eating cookies as she tries to ignore the day’s events. But how can she? How can she, when her crush is being thrown into her face in the worst sense of irony to possibly exist? The world must hate her, if it’s playing with her head so cruelly.

A knock sounds through her balcony door. Huffing, Marinette rolls over in her bed. “Go away, Chat! I don’t want to talk right now.” She may have forgiven him for causing this mess, but she can’t just-

Another knock, this one louder. Eyes narrowing, Marinette shoves the blanket off and stands up. Pushing on the trapdoor, Marinette says, “Chat, I’m serious! I really don’t want to talk about this whole mess! Can’t you just-” Scarlet Lord’s eyes meet hers, and Marinette stumbles, barely catching herself. “Leave?”

Scarlet Lord smiles, albeit rather awkwardly, and holds out a hand to her. She takes it numbly, face heating up. “I figured that you’d like to talk about all of this. Unless you’d prefer that I leave you alone for now?”

Marinette lets go of his hand and leans against the railing, inwardly cursing her increasingly red face. “No! No. We can talk right now.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, eyes searching for any signs of doubt. “You seemed rather against the idea, although you did seem to assume I was Chat Noir...why is that?”

“Oh!” Marinette looks away, missing how his eyes follow hers. “Chat comes around a lot.”

“Does he?” His voice isn’t quite so soft now, almost… jealous? No, there’s no way. He’s probably just upset that Chat is wasting his time with supposedly random civilians...even if Marinette is their most common ally.

“Yeah. He, uh, he called me the little sister he never had,” Marinette says with a small laugh. “It’s odd, calling a superhero a sibling, but I guess I’ll be claiming I’m dating you, so it’s not that odd now?” Marinette sighs, wistful. “I never thought I’d end up fake dating someone.”

“Neither did I,” Scarlet admits. “But I’d like to talk about that.”

Marinette nods. “Right, of course.” She shifts, glances to him, then glances away once more. “I thought we figured it out back on the roof though? A,” she swallows, “a few weeks, then we’ll call it off publicly. Right?”

“Right,” his voice seems strained, probably from the tangible awkwardness Marinette is radiating. “I’d like to apologize. For all of this. I don’t know what Chat Noir was thinking when he suggested that.”

“He was trying to keep you safe,” Marinette says, pretending that she doesn’t know Chat’s real motive- being her wingman. “If you didn’t agree, Bleeding Heart would have tried to connect us together. You would’ve been stuck to me, and I would only slow you down.”

“I’m sure we’d find a way to beat him. Two heads are better than one, aren’t they?” Scarlet chuckles, then sighs. “No matter the reason, I am sorry that all of this has happened.”

“I get it,” Marinette blurts out, ignoring how his words stab through her heart. “Don’t wanna be stuck with the clumsy girl who always ends up stuck in battles, yeah? It makes sense, I understand completely. I should be the one apologizing.”

“Marinette,” Scarlet says, hand reaching out and grabbing her shoulder, turning her gently until she’s facing him. “I’m only apologizing because you’re in danger now. I would hate to be the reason you get hurt. You’re important to me, do you know that?”

Marinette blinks. “I am?”

He smiles. “It’s hard to see a pretty, talented girl and not fall for her.”

Alright, it’s official. Marinette has to be dreaming, or she’s stuck in some kind of story. There’s no way- what kind of- wha-

“Me?!” Marinette gets out, voice high and face burning.

Scarlet Lord nods, hand slipping down from her shoulder to take her hand instead. “My dear, I’m not blind, nor am I a fool. I know that Chat Noir has been trying to set us up...and I wouldn’t be against it.” He squeezes her hand, and Marinette’s heart jumps. “You’re a wonderful girl, Marinette. But…”

“But it’s dangerous. Because I’m a civilian, and you’re a superhero,” Marinette says, and Scarlet Lord nods. “So that’s it.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Huh?”

Scarlet smirks, and oh mon Dieu Marinette is a goner. “Picture this. The next few weeks, we try to work things out in public. We make a big show of it, we’re not comfortable with all eyes on us. We break it off, deciding that it’s best to end things before the public becomes worse.” He chuckles. “And as the public tries to focus on the sudden breakup, they’ll become distracted when they see me flirting with a new teammate that I’m bringing in soon, and I’ll earn her love and we’ll make it very public. Since she has a Miraculous and a secret identity, everything will be alright.”

“I see…” Marinette swallows, unsure where the conversation is going. “And who...who’s the new hero?”

“Well, my dear,” Scarlet Lord says, and then he’s holding out a foxtail necklace, “if you’d truly like to try giving this bug a chance, then the new hero is you.”

-----

Marinette is a normal girl with a normal life. She goes to school with her best friend, who is a model and a superhero, she designs for celebrities, and she’s dating one half of the original superhero duo. Oh, and she’s now a superhero herself, but that’s just an average day in the life of Marinette “Kitsune” Dupain-Cheng’s life.

#ml fic #felinette #idek man i just vibed

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jubans · 4 years

Text

title: pinky promise pairing: chigasaki itaru/fem!reader rating: g (general) premise: promises were made to be kept, but damn did itaru have a sharp memory.

Back when you were still a kid, you had a peculiar friend.

Your fathers were best buddies in college and your mothers got along just as swimmingly as well. Whenever either couple would go out of town, the other would follow suit—both parties bringing along their young kids so they could bond with one another.

Itaru was a quiet boy. The first time you met him, he was like a hermit that couldn't be coaxed out of his shell. Eventually, you gave up on trying to get him to play house with you; retreating to the living room with a gaming console in hand. You've been wanting a Gameboy for a while now, and your father did love spoiling his little girl. While you were in the middle of catching your first Pokémon, however, you noticed that Itaru was watching you play over your shoulder, interest sparkling in his pretty eyes.

"Itaru-kun, do you play Pokémon?" you wondered, hoping he'd finally open up to you.

The young boy nodded timidly. "My Gameboy is in my backpack..."

And that's how you started growing closer than you'd initially expected. You challenged him in Pokémon battles every chance you got, but Itaru defeated you every single time. Something about IVs and EVs, he said. But you didn't really care about those. You just wanted the pretty looking Pokémon on your team.

In your usual outings with his family, Itaru would often play off-handed pranks on you—putting weird bugs he found behind your dress, spitting watermelon seeds at you, and even pushing you into a shallow part of a lake. But despite his outlandish behavior, you didn't cry about it like most girls your age would when a boy was being mean to them. You returned his mischief sevenfold in your own way, and that only made your parents think what a lively duo the both of you were.

But like most childhood friendships, it didn't last as long as you'd liked.

With your father having gotten an opportunity to work in America, that meant you had to move residences. The news was hard to take in at first. You grew up in Japan. All your friends were here! And what will happen to Itaru when you were no longer there to keep him in check? But, you've always been more understanding than most children. You accepted it faster than your parents had anticipated.

One day, you decided to tell your him about your sudden moving-away with a proposition that would ensure he wouldn't step out of line while you weren't around.

"We're going to get married someday, right Taruchi?"

Itaru blinked at you in nonplus, surprised by the strange nickname. "Taru...chi?"

"Itaru Chigasaki!" You giggled, clapping your hands together in unhinged glee. "It's my nickname for you, so no one else is allowed to call you that, 'kay?"

He spared you a small smile. Even at a young age, he already looked breathtaking. Eyes of carnelian and hair spun from almonds and vanilla—there was no reason for you not to crush on the boy who lived the next door over.

But then, he did something you've never seen anyone else do with you before. He held out his hand, holding up only his pinky, as he gazed at you expectantly. You craned your head to the side, not knowing how to react. Itaru laughed softly before taking your small hands in his own, manipulating your right hand's fingers so that you were doing the same gesture he was.

"We'll pinky promise on it," he said, entwining his stubby finger with yours. "It's a promise that we can never ever break. No matter what."

"You promise to marry me when I get back?" you asked, curling your own pinky as well.

He snickered. "I'd hate to be stuck with an old hag like you, but if you insist..."

"Hmph!" you simpered, folding your arms across your chest as you turned away from him. "I'm only eight, Taruchi!"

"You'll be eight-y when you return," he retaliated.

You spent the afternoon trying to beat Itaru in another Pokémon battle, but he came out victorious as usual. Just before you could start up another match, however, his mother told the two of you that they'll be attending an event hosted by the company she works for, and that you could come back and play tomorrow again.

"See you soon, old hag," Itaru imparted, waving a hand goodbye as you stuck out your tongue to blow a raspberry at him.

Stupid Taruchi. Why do I even like you?

"Mom, was it really necessary for me to fly back to Japan for this?" you groaned into your cellphone, asking the question for the hundredth time.

Your mother merely tutted at you from the other end of the line. "You know how much your father loved the MANKAI Company, sweetie. We even flew here a week early so he could take a peek at the final rehearsals."

"Yes, I know that part of the story," you sighed as you slowly unpacked your things from the single duffel you brought. "But why do I have to tag along? I had to find a substitute for all my classes this week, and I think the head professor will give me a piece of her mind when I get back to California."

"I'll have your father talk to her, then." The sound of her laughter was jeering in your ears. Why your mother had always been so carefree was a mystery to you. "Unwind a little, sweetie! I think you're going to want to see one of the new Spring Troupe's actors."

"What?" Your tone came out exasperated, but at the same time, your eyes were trained on the ample view of Veludo Way from your hotel room.

Your father used to be one of the members of the original Spring Troupe back when you were still a kid. Though he was one of the most academically proficient professors you knew today, he always had an unbridled passion for theatric arts. But with how swamped he's become with his work at the university you both teach in, him flying to Japan to watch amateurs stage a production was the last thing you think he would do.

Lost in thought, you didn't realize that your mother had been telling you something over the phone.

"Anyways, if you want to see him, I got us tickets for the closing night this Saturday." Your mother sounded disappointed for some reason. "The earlier showing dates sold out by the time we bought them."

You didn't even bother finding out who this so-called actor she was pertaining to, your mind too preoccupied with the lesson plans you forgot to leave to your substitute. With an exasperated groan, you pulled out your laptop from your luggage, booting it up. You loved your mother too much to point out that she could have just told you to fly over here at a later date so you could minimize your absences.

"Sure, Mom," you relented. "Do you want to grab some dinner later?"

"No way."

Eyes of carnelian. Hair spun from almonds and vanilla.

"No. Way." You had to physically look away from the stage to contemplate for a moment. Was that... Was that who you thought it was?

From your right, your father spared you a sideways glance, confusion painting his features. "Hm? Something the matter?"

It's him. The boy with the pretty eyes and the smile that masked his mischief. Itaru. Taruchi.

"I-It's nothing, Dad," you reassured, forcing yourself to train your eyes on the scene playing before you. "I just remembered I haven't started formatting my midterm exam yet."

"Oh, don't fret about work here," he chuckled, gaze trained fondly on the stage. "Plays are where the actors give it their all to put a smile on people's faces. I've always wanted to see you up on stage, but what kind of father would I be if I imposed something you didn't want?"

His words made you relax back into your seat, watching as Itaru's character, Tybalt, conversed with one of the leads on-stage. He delivered his lines so naturally, like the character was moulded to fit him in particular. He looked so...different now, too. Itaru had lost the fat in his cheeks—angular cheekbones taking its place instead. His voice was set into a much deeper tone, given that he was probably in his mid-twenties, just like yourself. Who knew a gamer shut-in like himself would pursue theater, of all things?

"It's nice to see good old Chigasaki's son up there, though." Your father smiled. "That kid was almost like a son to me."

The scenes breezed past before your eyes, each one leaving you at the edge of your seat. Their twist on Romeo and Juliet was comical, to say the least. But each time Itaru stepped under the spotlights, you noticed the strain in his movements. Whenever he had to walk to the opposite side of the stage, his steps came off a bit wobbly. This was a critical scene where Romeo and Tybalt were going to duel to the death, too.

When you spared your father a wary look, the set in his brow told you that there was definitely something up.

"Boy's got a sprain," he concluded. "Goodness. He should've known better than to perform with that dead weight dragging him around."

You frowned. "Then Taruchi, I mean, Itaru should—"

"Tybalt, stop! The battle's over!"

Romeo's little ad-lib caught the attention of the audience, no one daring to draw a breath to see how things played out.

"Lower your blade!" he shouted, voice carrying the emotion in his eyes.

Even Itaru was taken aback by Romeo's resolve. His mouth twitched into a smirk that reminded you of the days he would show you the stag beetles he's caught over the summer to freak you out. You haven't even said two words to him fifteen years later, but somehow, you knew that he hadn't changed. Not one bit.

"(Surname)-san, hello!"

A woman that seemed right about your age greeted your father with a shake of hands once the two of you arrived backstage. Your mother had insisted that she would wait for the two of you at the parking lot as you gave your congratulations to the actors. So here you were, standing awkwardly behind your father as he animatedly conversed with the said woman, who seemed to be the director of the show.

"Kid, as much as I'd like to tell you about your dad, it isn't my place to tell," your father chuckled.

She sighed. "Ah, that's what Yuzo-san told me, too..."

"Say, this is quite out of the blue, but my daughter here wants to have a word with one of your actors. Itaru, to be precise."

Wait, what?

"Oh, sure!" The director nodded, twisting the knob to the dressing room behind her before you could even protest. "Itaru-san, someone wants to talk to you!"

"Oho? Itaru-san has stans?"

"Fans. But you're not too far off, huh, Citron?"

"Wah! Itaru-san is so popular!"

"Tch. As long as it's not her, I won't complain..."

The sound of cheerful laughter hit your ears, and the next thing you knew, he emerged from the doorway—still in costume without a single hair out of place. Itaru grew up to look like one of the princes in the fairytales your mother used to read to you, and it grated on your nerves more than it should. How could the kid with the most rotten attitude you've seen be blessed with a growth spurt like this?!

Too busy wallowing in your own frustration, it took you a moment to register the utter shock on Itaru's face once his vibrant eyes landed on your father. But when his gaze shifted to you, his lips parted in muted surprise before spreading into a disbelieving smile.

"So you finally thought about coming back, huh, old hag?"

Before you could even think, you seized the collar of his costume with your fist, familiar irritation festering in your chest faster than you could blink. "It's the first time we meet in fifteen years and that's your opening line?"

Itaru hollered loudly at your aggression, but the gesture didn't even faze him one bit. Maybe it was because he stood about a few inches taller than you now. Nonetheless, he held your hands in his own—holy shit they were smooth—before prying off your hard grip on his clothes.

"Ah, Izumi!" your father called out to the director. "I want to discuss something about the MANKAI Company and how I might be able to pitch in. Itaru-kun, you can keep her occupied for the time being, right?"

"What? Dad, don't leave me with hi—"

"She's in my care," Itaru spoke over you, a gloved hand going up to ruffle your hair.

As you watched your father and the director disappear right down the corridor, you gulped when you felt Itaru's piercing gaze on you. Turning around, you saw that his lips were still affixed with a condescending smirk, like he had some dirt on you that you didn't know about. Slowly, you backed away from him, but the hallway was cramped and you ended up with you in between the wall and the man in front of you.

"So," he began before he braced his palms on either side of the wall, trapping you in place. How could someone who had the regal air of a prince look at you like a wolf in sheep's clothing?

You felt your heart racing hummingbird-fast in your chest, breath hitching when he leaned in to ask:

"When's the wedding?"

#a3!#a3 #act! addict! actors!#act addict actors #a3 headcanons #a3 fanfiction #chigasaki itaru #itaru #itaru chigasaki #itaru x reader #a3 x reader #fluff #itaru fic

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lemonz-and-limez · 4 years

Note

Hello! I love your writing so much! Truly, you’re one of the best writers out there. If it’s not an inconvenience, can you please write something with pregnant Amy and daddy Sheldon? Whatever you want! Have a nice day!

A/N: Thank you for being so patient with me dear. I hope this turned out ok 😊

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay by yourself?” Sheldon asked as he helped Elliot put his shoes on.

Amy, who had just started her third trimester of pregnancy, sighed from the bed. “Sheldon, I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “It’ll be good for you and Elliot to get out of the house.”

Sheldon rose to his full height and turned to face her. While her first pregnancy had been smooth sailing, her second had confined her to the bed. And he doted on her like crazy. Sheldon was aware of the complications that her age could present, as was Amy, so, even though it was difficult, they put up with whatever they had to do to ensure a healthy pregnancy.

“Alright,” Sheldon conceded, but then quickly added, “but if you need anything, call me. Please.”

Amy smiled back at him. “Okay.”

Sheldon was nervous. He had never really taken Elliot out by himself. Sure, they were just going over to Howard’s so that the kids could play together, but that didn’t make him any less anxious. He loved his son, but Elliot was much more of a mama’s boy. What if he wasn’t able to handle him if Amy wasn’t around? Or what if Elliot didn’t listen to him? The boy was three years old, and still, Sheldon didn’t know what he was doing.

It was almost as if Amy could sense his panic. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Don’t make a bigger deal of this than it is.”

Sheldon shot her a grateful smile before checking his watch. Leonard would be there any moment to pick him up. “Thank you. We should get going, though.” Sheldon said. He turned his attention to his son. “Elliot say bye to your mother before we leave,” he told the boy, gently nudging him forward a little.

It was rather adorable how the little boy scrambled forth quickly and up onto the bed, falling into his mother’s open arms. Amy kissed the top of his head and ruffled his hair. “Have fun, you two,” she called out after them as Sheldon took Elliot’s hand to leave.

Sure enough, Leonard was waiting for them outside. The new house that he and Amy had moved into was not far the Wolowitz’s, but with Sheldon still not able to drive and Amy on bedrest, Leonard was back to driving Sheldon around.

“Hey, Sheldon,” Leonard greeted as Sheldon opened the back door to put the car seat in. “Do you need any help?”

Sheldon glanced at Leonard for a moment. He knew his best friend was probably only offering out of curtesy but did he really think Sheldon wasn’t able to put a car seat in? “No, I got it,” he replied. After all, he had seen Amy do this multiple times. Even though it took him a few tries, he eventually managed to lock the seat into place. He helped Elliot up into the car before he slid into the passenger seat next to Leonard.

The short drive was filled with the chatter of Elliot and Isaac, Leonard, and Penny’s child. Sheldon filled in his best friend when he asked how Amy was doing, which took up most of the drive, considering they only had a short distance to go. Silence fell over the car when Leonard pulled into the driveway, though. Both of their sons were just antsy to get inside.

As Sheldon fumbled with the seatbelt to get Elliot out of the car, Leonard was already walking up to the house with Isaac.

“Daddy?” Elliot asked, and Sheldon met his gaze. “Why does Isaac get to go in?”

Sheldon was getting frantic now, why wasn’t this stupid belt coming undone? A small hand came into view and almost expertly undid the mechanism. Sheldon looked at Elliot, astonished.

“Mama says it gets stuck,” the little boy explained, rolling his ‘s’ like a typical 3-year-old.

Sheldon tried to brush off the incident as he walked hand in hand with Elliot up to the house. Howard was standing in the doorway, waiting to greet them. “Hey, Sheldon,” he smiled, stepping aside to let the duo in. Howard quickly turned his attention to Elliot. “Hey, little man!” he exclaimed, giving the boy a tiny fist bump.

“Hi, Uncle Howard,” Elliot giggled, delighted to be in the presence of his favorite pseudo uncle. Anyone was better than Georgie, Sheldon supposed. Elliot had taken a particular liking to Howard even when he was still baby. Maybe it’s because the engineer had been a father longer, or Elliot could somehow sense the close bond Howard had with Amy and therefore felt safe around him. Whatever it was, it delighted Sheldon to no end to see Elliot so happy. Even if it was with Howard.

“Michael and Isaac are already out in the backyard,” Howard said as Elliot haphazardly kicked his shoes off. They landed in two different spots, and, despite Sheldon’s protests, Elliot made a dash to the back of the house without straightening them out.

Sheldon pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He was sure that Elliot was just looking forward to playing with his friends, but he would have listened if Amy was there. Maybe he would talk to him later about it. When he wasn’t under the scrutinizing gaze of Howard and Leonard, who was watching from the living room.

Sheldon ignored the questioning look Howard was giving him and walked past him to where Leonard, Stuart, and Raj were congregated. “Hello,” he greeted quietly.

A chorus of ‘hi’ and ‘hello’ followed. As he sat down in the armchair adjacent to the couch, Leonard handed him an Xbox controller. Sheldon eyed it for a moment and looked around the room. “Shouldn’t one of us be out back watching the kids?” he asked nervously as he took the controller anyway.

Howard shrugged him off. “It’s alright, Bernadette is doing some work on the porch, so, they’re not alone.”

“So, nobody is watching them?” Sheldon was incredulous.

“I just said Bernadette was out there,” Howard argued, but Sheldon didn’t listen to him because he was already on his way outside.

Sure enough, Bernadette was busy with her work. Engaged in an obviously heated phone call with someone from work, paying the children no mind. The children who thankfully were not getting themselves into any trouble. Yet.

Leonard and Howard came marching out behind him. “See, Sheldon, I told you they were fine,” Howard said.

“Sure, they’re fine now, but what about when they decide to start playing around with that hose?” Sheldon pointed to the item in question that had been left out by the side of the porch. “Or what if they decide they want out of the back yard? Our kids aren’t stupid, I’m sure they could figure out your dinky little lock over there.”

The engineer sighed loudly beside him. He was annoyed, Sheldon knew that by now. “Geez, Sheldon, no wonder Amy needed a break. You’re such a worrywart.”

Sheldon turned his head sharply. What was Howard trying to get at by saying that? He was just concerned about his child’s safety, was that really so bad? Even Amy had called him overprotective at times, but to Sheldon, there wasn’t a price to put on safety. Would Elliot think he was hovering, though? Would his underdeveloped brain misconstrue Sheldon’s worry as mistrust? That could lead to problems down the road… if Elliot thought his father didn’t trust him.

Just as Sheldon opened his mouth to say something, Bernadette hung up the phone and, surprisingly, came to his defense. “Howie, leave him alone, he’s got the right to be worried about his child,” she scolded, and Howard immediately softened.

“I’m sorry, Sheldon,” Howard apologized, albeit hesitantly. “I just think you need to relax a little. The kids are safe here.” He tried to be reassuring, and he tapped Sheldon’s shoulder. However, he retreated right back into the house.

“He’s right,” Leonard said, coming to stand beside him as the two watched the kids happily run about the yard. “They’ll be okay.” Then, Leonard too walked back inside.

Sheldon couldn’t take it. There was no way he would be able to calm down, not when he was second-guessing every decision he made in regards to parenting. Ever since Amy went onto bedrest two weeks ago, he had been in charge of most things around the house. Especially when it came to taking care of Elliot. Sheldon never underestimated how hard Amy worked for their growing family, but trying to take on two workloads was really putting things into perspective for him. Amy was doing her best to cheer him on, but every day presented a new challenge. And every day ended with the same question… did I do good enough?

Maybe coming over to Howard’s wasn’t the best idea. Sheldon always knew his friends didn’t think the best of him. And he was okay with that for many years. But then a five foot four hurricane came waltzing into his life and waking up his dormant emotions. Amy had turned him into a full-blown family man who provided for his kids and had a life insurance policy. Now, he cared what his friends said about him and what they said about his family. Being questioned about his abilities as a father stung, especially when he was questioning the exact same things himself.

He really shouldn’t care what Leonard and Howard’s view of him were anyway; he didn’t care before after all. Elliot was his son, not theirs. He should never have to explain himself to anyone other than his wife.

“Elliot!” Sheldon called from the porch. When the boy turned to look at him, Sheldon beckoned him to come over to him silently. Suddenly Elliot was in front of him, his eyes asking for an answer as to why his father interrupted his fun playtime. Sheldon knelt down to be eye level with Elliot. “I’m going to be inside with my friends, you’ll be okay out here with Aunt Bernadette?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Elliot said, the innocents of childhood giving away his sincerity.

Sheldon nodded curtly. “Alright then, go have fun.”

Elliot smiled widely at him and bounded back towards his friends.

Just as Sheldon was about to rejoin his own companions, he noticed Bernadette eyeing him curiously. “Yes?” He asked.

Bernadette shook her head. “Nothing. Just never thought I’d see the day where Sheldon Cooper was a concerned father. You’re doing a good job, Sheldon.”

Sheldon tried to ignore the backhanded compliment and just smiled at her. How little did his friends believe in him to make them all think he would end up a horrible father?

It didn’t matter. Amy’s opinion mattered, not theirs. He kept repeating this over and over again. Because maybe if he told himself this enough, he would actually start to believe it.

He went back inside to the living room where his friends were finishing up a round of their video game. There would have been a time where that would have angered him… the fact that they started without him. However, since becoming a parent, he had learned to overlook tiny inconveniences like that. Sheldon still had a hard time with things not being a certain way, but it was one thing that got a lot easier when Amy went on bedrest. He simply had more to do and didn’t have time to worry about such mundane things, such as his friends starting a game without him. And he really thought his friends would take notice of his personal growth.

Yet, as he sat down, Raj quipped, “what? No lecture about us starting without you?”

“I had to talk to my son, I think that trumps missing a round,” Sheldon shot back, reclaiming the armchair.

Raj nodded. “Fair enough,” he conceded.

Leonard and Howard said Nothing, and Sheldon assumed it was because they understood what he was going through. Or at least that is what he hoped to be true.

While the five men played their video game, round after round, Sheldon left himself slightly tuned in to whatever was happening outside. His quote-unquote “Vulcan hearing” finally served a good purpose. For the most part, the children seemed to be having a good time. They would go quite sometimes, and Sheldon wasn’t able to hear them, he could only trust Bernadette’s watchful eye.

Every once in a while, they would have to break for one of them to use the restroom. It was to be expected with how much soda they were all drinking. Sheldon was already working on his 3rd.

“So, Sheldon?” Howard asked as he set his glass back onto the coffee table. “What are you gonna do once the baby is born?”

Sheldon crinkled his eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Leonard and Howard shared a look. One Sheldon wasn’t so sure he was fond of.

“Well,” it was Leonard who spoke this time. “We’ve noticed you have been having a hard time recently, you know, with Amy on bedrest and all. How’s it going to work when your daughter is born?”

“It’s hasn’t been that hard,” Sheldon protested. “Besides, once Amy is able to be on her feet again, I’m sure it will be manageable.”

“Yeah, but she is going to be busy taking care of a newborn. Doesn’t really open up much time for her, does it?” Howard’s question was rhetorical, Sheldon knew this. But again, he didn’t know what Howard was trying to imply.

“Howard, I gotta be honest, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sheldon admitted. “I am still Elliot’s father; the baby being born isn’t going to change that. Besides, Amy and I have already discussed what our plan is after the baby is born.”

“And?”

Sheldon sighed. Why were his friends pushing this so much? “We will both take our respective 6-week maternity and paternity leaves and care of our children!” his response was almost forceful; he was going on the defensive. “Then we will decide what our next course of action will be depending on our circumstances.”

The foursome sat there in silence. Sheldon was angry. And confused. Was Amy this worried about his abilities as a parent? Because his friends seemed to be given that they looked for every opportunity to question him.

Sheldon looked down at his shoes. “Why do you keep bringing into question my abilities as a father?” he asked quietly.

“We’ve known you for a long time, Sheldon,” it was Leonard who spoke now. “We’re sure you’re a great father, but change has always overwhelmed you and…”

“Oh, I see,” Sheldon interrupted. “This is about my train trip back in 2014.”

“No!” Howard protested. “Leonard is right, Sheldon. Change has always overwhelmed you, and with Amy on bed rest, you’re in a vulnerable place right now. We just want to make sure you and your family is okay.”

A recollection of Sheldon’s childhood appeared in his mind. His own father’s death, how he grew up without him. How distraught his mother was. That loss almost tore apart his family. Despite his imperfections, and there were many, George Cooper was a man who devoted himself to his family. Yet, in the end, Sheldon still had to grow up without him.

Would he follow in his father’s footsteps? Would the stresses of responsibility consume him and drive him away from Amy and his children? Sheldon had promised himself that he wouldn’t be a father who abandoned his children. But was Howard right? Was he too overworked and overwhelmed to see it already happening?

No. He needed to shake the thought of even the possibility from his head. Amy would never forgive him if he even hinted that he had thought about it.

“Sheldon?” Howard’s voice broke him from his musings. He continued when Sheldon looked up at him. “We didn’t mean any harm, but we just wanted to let you know that if you guys ever need help, we’re only a call away.”

Raj and Leonard nodded, agreeing with what Howard said. Even though they have been secondhandedly judging his parenting style all day, their support warmed him a little bit. It was nice that they still cared for his children, Sheldon supposed. Would they ever learn to stop throwing jabs at him, though?

As Stuart reappeared, the men carried on with their video games. And Sheldon didn’t win a single round, despite being a pro at the game they were playing. His mind was somewhere else, and he couldn’t care less about coming in 3rd place almost 5 times in a row.

The day went by fairly quickly, to Sheldon’s surprise, it was 3PM before any of them had even realized. The children had pretty much kept to themselves all day, except for their brief lunch break. When Howard, Leonard, and Sheldon went back out to the yard, they found that the boys had pretty much tuckered themselves out. Who knew what they were doing out there all day, but at least they appeared to have fun.

As Leonard was saying goodbye to Howard, Sheldon was helping Elliot with his shoes again. He knew he should have pushed Amy harder for the Velcro sneakers, but that woman was insistent on getting lace-up. But, shocker, Elliot had no interest in learning how to tie them.

“Still haven’t taught him how to tie them, I see,” Leonard observed as he stepped up behind him in the entryway.

Sheldon shot him an irritated look. He wasn’t in the mood for his friend’s judgment anymore. “Well, he’d rather learn about chemistry than learn how to tie his shoes. Can’t really blame him, science is always more interesting.” Sheldon smirked up at Elliot, who perked up when his favorite subject was mentioned.

“Chemistry, huh? I’m surprised you’re not more up in arms about it not being Physics,” Leonard replied.

Finishing the last loop on the tiny shoes, Sheldon stood up and turned to face his best friend. “What’s important is seeing my son happy. If that’s chemistry, then so be it.”

He gave the shorter man no opportunity to respond and turned his back to him once more. Elliot was tired, he needed a nap, and more so than ever, Sheldon wanted to be home.

The car seat gave him a lot less trouble the second time around now that he knew what he was doing. Helping Elliot get in and out of the car took much less time than before. And Leonard didn’t even ask once if he needed help. Sheldon took that as a win.

“Daddy?” Elliot’s small voice asked as Sheldon worked on getting the seat out of the car. He made a noncommittal noise in response to his son as he unhooked the last latch. “I’m tired, can you carry me?”

Sheldon bid Leonard and Isaac goodbye before responding to his son’s query. Elliot did look dead on his feet, and Sheldon genuinely did not believe he would be able to walk himself upstairs to his bedroom. Instead of verbally telling him he would, Sheldon simply bent down and picked up his son. His small head rested against Sheldon’s shoulder as he walked them into the house. Sheldon set the car seat down next to the front door and began climbing the stairs.

He helped Elliot into his PJs and tucked him in for a much needed short nap. The kid was out before his head hit the pillow.

“Hey, you’re home!” Amy exclaimed as he walked into their bedroom. “How was your day?”

Sheldon plopped down on the foot of the bed. “Well, Elliot wore himself out playing with Michael and Isaac. He’s down for a nap right now.”

“Sounds like he had fun then?” Sheldon could almost hear the smile in her voice. Elliot’s happiness brought her Nothing but joy.

“He did.”

“And you? How was your day?”

Sheldon pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was… alright. The guys and I played video games all day.”

Amy’s foot nudged him, urging him to look at her. “Sheldon, what happened? You sound tense,” she observed.

He reached beside him and rubbed her ankle softly. “Nothing happened,” he lied. “You know how it is with the guys sometimes, we bust on each other.”

“And that’s alright, but you seem bothered by something. Was it something they said?” Amy asked softly, her comforting voice soothing him a little.

‘Yes, it was something they said. It’s what they were all implying.’ Sheldon thought.

Pivoting his body so that his leg was under him and he was finally facing her, Sheldon still didn’t meet her eyes. “It wasn’t so much what they said as it was what they were eluding to.”

“And that was?”

“That my parenting skills are lacking,” he bluntly stated. Because that’s what it was. Even if that wasn’t what his friends were implying all day, that is how it was perceived.

Sheldon waited for a response from his wife, but she was dead silent, waiting for him to continue. “I mean it wasn’t like they stated it outright, but they kept asking things like what we’re gonna do after the baby is born? And how you are going to handle having to raise two children as if I am not going to be here. Maybe I’m reading too much into it,” Sheldon dismissed. He didn’t want to dwell on what they said. Mostly because he was afraid Amy would confirm what they said.

“No, you’re not,” Amy told him. “They have no right to ask you those kinds of questions and imply that you are a bad father because that is not true.”

“Isn’t it, though? I mean, Elliot prefers you over me any day. Doesn’t that say something about my abilities as a father?”

Amy sighed, her eyes pitying him. “No, Sheldon, it doesn’t. It’s scientifically proven that children depend more on their mothers during their developmental years. Elliot being more attached to me has nothing to do with your parenting abilities. Despite that, that doesn’t mean Elliot doesn’t love you.”

Sheldon stayed quiet for too long because Amy kept talking. “Did you know, when I take him shopping with me if he sees something he knows you like, he always asks if we should ‘get it for daddy’. He does it all the time. That new Flash shirt I got you a few months ago? Elliot picked it out for you. Because he knew that it is your favorite superhero. Elliot loves you, Sheldon, he just has a different way of showing it.”

He had no idea. Sheldon knew Elliot had a heart of gold, something that he openly displayed for Amy on a daily basis, but he was always much more reserved towards Sheldon. But Amy was right, in his own special way, Elliot did show him his love. It just wasn’t as apparent right now, maybe when he gets older, it’ll be a different story.

Sheldon remained quiet for a moment. “I suppose I know why Elliot prefers you over me, but in general, I’ve been questioning myself as a father.”

Amy put on her worried face again. “Why? Has something been bothering you?”

“I second guess everything I do. Every little thing in regards to Elliot, I am always asking myself if it was the right thing to do. Am I too protective? Not protective enough? Did I discipline too much or too little? It’s been a lot to handle since you went on bedrest,” Sheldon confessed, keeping his eyes low.

“Sheldon, why didn’t you talk to me about this sooner?” Amy asked. “I could’ve calmed your worries.”

Sheldon shrugged. “I thought I could handle it on my own. You’re growing an entire human; I didn’t want to burden you with my insecurities.” He looked up at Amy to gauge her reaction. She looked concerned for him. “They didn’t bother me that much, honestly, until they were all but confirmed by our friends today.”

“Well, our ‘friends’ will be hearing from me about how they treated you today,” Amy spat angrily, her eyes remaining soft for him. “For the record, you can burden me with anything, Sheldon. Especially when it comes to our son. I don’t like that you’ve been feeling insecure about it and not talking to me. You’re going to burn yourself out.”

“I know,” Sheldon said. “But I thought I could handle it on my own. When I heard what our friends said, I started to wonder if you felt the same way… that I am a bad father.”

Amy lurched forward too quickly for someone on bedrest. She reached out to him. “Of course not! I think you’re a wonderful dad, Sheldon. You go above and beyond for Elliot, and I have no doubt you’ll do the same for this little one,” she said, pointing to her ever-growing stomach. “It wasn’t fair for your friends to bring your parenting into question like that. It doesn’t concern them. How we decide to raise our son is between you and me, no one else.”

Sheldon smiled gratefully at her. How she could calm him down so easily was still a mystery, but he loved it when she did. He tilted backward to lay back on the bed. Amy, who was still sitting up, gently ran her fingers through his hair. Something she’d learned relaxed him very much.

Something was still troubling him from earlier, though. His established reputation as a flight risk and the lingering fear that he would one day abandon his wife and children.

“Amy,” he spoke quietly, getting her attention again. “Howard indirectly brought up that time I ran away on a train back in 2014.”

The fingers in his hair tightened into a grip suddenly. Sheldon knew that was still a sore spot for Amy. “What does that have to do with anything?” she asked as she loosened her hold on his tresses.

Sheldon gulped before he spoke. “Well, he was saying he was worried that I would be too overwhelmed with all the changes that will occur when the baby is born. Howard never blatantly said he was worried I would run away again; I did that on my own. I mean, I already have a history of fleeing when things get too hard. What if I decide to do that again in the future?”

Amy’s hand stopped moving altogether this time. She wasn’t responding, and to Sheldon, she appeared to be thinking. His nerves couldn’t handle it, and he started rambling. “I know I shouldn’t even think like that, and you’re probably mad at me for doing so. How could I even think about leaving? I grew up without a father why would I even consider the possibility that I could do the same to my own children? How-“

Amy silenced him with a finger against his lips. “Shhh, it’s okay, I’m not upset.” She told him.

“You’re not?”

“I’m not because I’m not worried about that, Sheldon. Do you know why?” He shook his head. “Because you’re not the same man you were back in 2014. You’ve grown a lot since then, Sheldon.” Amy said, smiling now. “I didn’t marry a flight risk. I married a man who learned from his mistakes and grew as a person. You’re going to get overwhelmed, and you’re going to be stressed, that’s parenting. But I’ll be by your side to help you, just as you will be by mine. We’re partners in this. You felt alone when you ran away in 14’, you’re not alone now. And that’s why I am not worried about you getting on a train and leaving me forever.”

He sat up to her eye level, truly at a loss for words. “I love you,” he said, unable to find anything else to express his admiration for her.

She smiled at him, just like she always did when he said the three magic words. “You are an amazing father, Sheldon. When you’re down on yourself, I know it can be hard to remember, but I am always here to talk to if you need reminding.”

Sheldon nodded. “Thank you, Amy,” he whispered and leaned down for a chaste kiss.

“You’re welcome,” she hummed. “I am still going to call Penny and Bernadette, though. I will not tolerate people being unnecessarily mean to my husband.”

Sheldon waved his hand in protest. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do,” Amy insisted. “They wouldn’t hesitate to call me and rake you over the coals if you did what they did today. I won’t stand for the constant meddling in our relationship anymore. It’s hurt both of us on one too many occasions, and that needs to stop.”

She was right. Their friends had been putting in their two cents about their relationship since day one. And they’d both enabled it for too long. Their children are where they were drawing the line.

“Alright, you do what you need to do, Amy. I will stand behind whatever you tell them,” Sheldon affirmed.

“I will call them tomorrow, right now the baby just wants to cuddle,” Amy smirked.

Sheldon raised an eyebrow at her. “The baby does, or Mama does?” he playfully asked.

“Would you believe me if I said both?” Amy pouted her lips slightly, doing that pleading thing she knew he couldn’t resist.

Sheldon sighed theatrically to keep up with the playful mood that had suddenly been bestowed upon them. “Well, I suppose I really have no other choice, do I, Dr. Fowler?”

Amy shook her head as she worked to lay down. Sheldon knew better than to ask her if she needed help. In both of her pregnancies, Amy had pretty much insisted on remaining independent up until it was no longer physically possible. Just like with the car seat, even though it took her a couple of minutes, she eventually got there. On her side, facing him, basically using him as a human body pillow. He didn’t have a problem with it, whatever made her the most comfortable.

“You do realize Elliot is going to wake up soon?” Amy told him after a few minutes in comfortable silence.

Sheldon nodded against his pillow. “I am aware. But we haven’t had much time alone since you went on bedrest, I’m kind of just trying to savor it.”

She brushed his brow lightly, swooping back his unkempt hair. “You’ve been working hard, Sheldon. I’m really proud of you.”

“For what? I’ve just been doing my job, taking care of Elliot.”

“Exactly,” Amy responded. “You’ve stepped up and been such a good dad, Sheldon. I always knew you could do it. That’s why I am proud of you.”

Even when his friends all thought he would fail, Amy knew he had the capacity inside of him to succeed. Amy always believing in him. Even no one else did.

There were a few peaceful moments where they just laid there, side by side. Reconnecting as husband and wife. Just like it used to be before Elliot flipped their world upside down in the best way possible.

Sheldon never wanted it to end, but the little pitter-patter outside the door put a kibosh on that real fast. And Elliot’s mimic of Sheldon’s knock killed any magic left from the moment.

Amy gave him an apologetic smile. He knew she would get up if she could, but right now, whatever Elliot wanted was his responsibility.

Swinging the door open, there stood his son clad in his superhero pajamas, teary-eyed. “Hey, what happened?” Sheldon asked worriedly, kneeling down to his level.

“I had a nightmare?” Elliot confessed in a little voice. He was reaching his arms out towards his father, asking silently for some comfort.

Scooping Elliot up into his arms, Sheldon patted his back and hushed him as the little boy cried in his shoulder. Amy was watching concerned from her place in the bed.

“You want to lay with Mama for a little while?” Sheldon offered, and Elliot nodded immediately. He set the boy down on the bed and watched Elliot hastily scramble over to his mother. “Gentle,” he reminded Elliot as he relaxed in Amy’s embrace.

“I’m going to go get dinner ready,” mouthed Sheldon, already making his way back to the door. Amy acknowledged him with a thumbs up and turned her attention back to Elliot.

He stopped in the doorway and watched the pair for a moment. Sheldon didn’t think this was ever something he would have. A wife and two kids. Sheldon also didn’t think it was possible for him to be this genuinely happy. Yes, he had his insecurities and doubts, but Elliot made him smile every day.

Amy caught his eye as he continued to watch the scene in front of him. And when she whispered, he almost didn’t pick it up but was glad he did.

“Good job, dad.”

Even if their friends never thought he was good at the whole parenting thing, Amy did, and in the end, hers was the opinion that mattered.

A/N: I’d like to personally thank DrummerGirl66 for helping me out with this one. She gave me the inspiration for this…. Thank you again, love *hugs*

I hope you all liked this one, it’s been a while since I have done a prompt :)

#shamy fanfic #shamy

107 notes · View notes

simply-ellas-stuff · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on Zack Snyder's Justice League because I watched it

The opening sequence, bc even tho the repeated scream audio was stuipid this opening was better

The new meeting between batman and Aquaman - that drawing on the wall in the og was unnecessary

Diana's extra badassery

The design of Stephen Wolf, because now he actually looks scaryish

The Queens emotions about losing her sisters of Themyscira - QUEENS DON'T JUST SEND THEIR PEOPLE INTO BATTLE EMOTIONLESSLY THESE SCENES WERE NEEDED - FUCK

THE BIGGER WITH IN THEMYSCIRA WHY THE FUCK DID THEY CUT THAT OUT?! - oh right, its because the previous director is sexist as fuck,

Stephen Wolf's Daddy Issues because that's fucking hilarious

Bruce explaining his want to find everyone bc of his promise

The close up on the fly things because that actually made it scary

THE FUCKING LIGHTING CEREMONY IN THEMESCERIA HOLY MOTHER FUCKING SHIT

Diana's extra badassery after getting the Arrow because WHY THE FUCK WAS THAT CUT?! This explains SO MUCH about how Diana knows SO MUCH about a time she wasn't alive in and I have NO FUCKING CLUE why it was cut!?

Arthur Curry is a Stripper - Confirmed!

Arthur and his trainer talking, but idfk why they kept the bubble thing Although I do like that they clarify that it's not just Mera who can do that bubble thingy

The scene between Stephen Wolf and the stone-wall dude person was cool and it explained why Stephen Wolf was so desperate

Zeus, Ares, and Artemis prepped for battle along with Poseidon in the flashback was FUCKING AWESOME!!! Diana's Aunt as well, the shows of the Green Lanterns, and the ring returning to the planet [Although they should've named Artemis, bc she can easily be mistaken for Athena - Also; Artemis' roman equivalent in the goddess Diana ]

Darkseid being in the flashback, which explains a lot

The Gods vs Darkseid was FUCKING AWESOME

Barry's awkward rambling after running into Iris

ALSO IRIS FUCKING WEST!!!

The Big Belly Burger Reference, nicely done

My dad says Iris' car is beautiful

BARRY SAVED IRIS BITCHES

The slow-mo crash gave me anxiety

My dad says, "I know you got all the time in the world but c'mon this is ridiculous" about that scene then "That beautiful car..."

THE SCENE WITH STEPHEN WOLF AND THE ALTLANTIAN MAKES EVERYTHING MAKE SO MUCH MORE SENSE BECAUSE HOW THE FUCK DID STEPHEN WOLF KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THE MOTHER BOX IN ATLANTIS

Do. Not. Make. Diana. And. Bruce. Romantic. Don't. Fucking. Do. It.

The use of slow-mo is kind of redundant

Victor being fucking AMAZING even tho he's getting in trouble at school

Victor and Mama's discussion gives some life to the 2-Dlike Cyborg from the og movie, WHY THE FUCK WAS IT CUT?!

Victor's inner-world where he's still fully human

Barry being sarcastic as fuck towards his father lmfao

"Very attractive Jewish boy"

The reference to Grodd YAAAAAAAS

I still hate that Barry's lightning is blue and not red

The explanation of the Speedforce and Snacks

"What are your super powers again?" "I'm Rich" Still one of the best lines

I love Diana's shirt in the scene with Alfred

"Looks like you have a date, Ms. Prince" lmfao - Unless his name is Steve, I doubt it

I feel like Victor and Diana would be a good brother/sister duo, ngl

Burying the fucking box at your mothers grave was the stupidest shit I have ever fucking seen Victor.

COMMISIONER GORDON HELL YES

Barry's utter fail at being normal around Diana

The underwater click-like dolphin speak was cool, but still kinda dumb knowing that later Aquaman speaks underwater just fine - ngl

Nice Liquidkinetics, Mera. Amber you're still a cunt.

Also, Mera says her parents died - Wasn't her father alive in Aquaman??

Victor seeing the bat-signal explains how he knew how to find them, honest

The badass entry of Bruce, Diana, and Barry makes me laugh

Barry is far too close to Bruce

Victor scared Barry LMFAOOOO

If Victor's father is the head of STAR Labs where the fuck is Harrison Wells?????

THEY LEFT BARRY BEHIND, ASSHOLES

Diana's annoyance at Barry running ahead is such a Mom thing

Stephen using the bug thing makes SO MUCH MORE SENSE

Diana trying to make a plan and it getting ruined fits with the exasperated Mom theme she's got going on.

THE SONG HEN DIANA GOES AGAINST STEPHEN WOLF, THE FUCKING VOCALS ALONG MAKE ME HYPE AS SHIIIIIIIIT

"I Belong To No One" I FUCKING LOVE IT

HEEEEEEEEELL of a push Barry lmfaooo

"Thank you Alfred" "Don't mention it" Mans is bored of your shit

"Sword Lady" LMFAOOOOOOO

Diana's x-move thing against Stephen Wolf YAAAAAAAAS BITCH

Diana saving Barry's ass - Accurate!

Victor taking over the Crawler makes more sense this way, honest

OKAY YOU AN ACTUALLY SEE AQUAMAN IN THE WATER AND IT MAKES IT MAKE SO MUCH MORE SENSE

That jump onto the crawler was smooth as fuck Diana!

Stephen Wolf getting visions from the boxes also explains a lot about some shit

"I know the requirements, I wrote them" Suuuuuuubtle lmfaoo

Victor brining the box them also fits better

Why is this Stone looking mother fucker speaking Latin?

Hello Darkseid, you look particularly dramatic this evening

Victor's explaining how he knows about the box makes a lot of sense, why was this cut again??

Actually explaining the fucking Mother Box was Helpful

Mrs. Kent and Lois having a heart to heart holy shiiiit

Martha talking about how Clark's death was drowned out by Superman's - wooow

WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH MARTHA'S EYES IS THAT J'ONN J'ONZZ?! THATS THE MARTIAN MANHUNTER HOLY FUCK IT'S J'ONN J'ONZZ

Ironic that Ezra-Flash's hero is Superman while Grant Gustin's hero is superman lmfao

Diana and Arthur chatting was cute, the quote was awesome and the Atlantians totally copped that quote from the Amazonians

Alfred being a sarcastic fuck is my favorite

Alfred being the voice of reason, as always

Arthur helping Barry pick a hat is AMAZING

Diana telling the boys to change, mom or big sister?? lmfaoo

Barry's social awkwardness gives me second hand embarrassment

This little infiltration arc makes SO MUCH more fucking sense

Every one being suited up and triggering the alarm is amazing

Mr. Stone fucking trusting his son is my faaaaaavorite

THE SUITS ACTIVATED AND CAME OUT WHEN CLARK WAS MOVED PAST THEM DUDE WTF

IS LOIS PREGNANT?!?!?!

Barry looks like he's about to throw up

BARRY HAS ALREADY TIME TRAVELLED THAT LINE SHOULDVE BEEN KEPT IN

Arthur being antsy about not doing the resurrection makes so much sense

VICTOR SEEING A POSSIBLE FUTURE IS THE BEST SHIT

I love vision-Diana's Norse burial

EVIL VISION-SUPERMAN DUDE CMON

THE MISUNDERSTANDING MAKES THIS WORSE AND BETTER AT THE SAME TIME

HE REVERSED TIME WHEN HE RESURRECTED SUPERMAN WHAAAAAAAAT

The Military arriving was a sensible addition

The fancy ass dramatic ass arrival of Aquaman, Wonder Woman, Flash, and Cyborg when Superman gets to the monument is hilarious

Victor loosing control is the woooooorst

The Lasso of Truth almost got through to him but he's a stubborn fuck

Superman functioning in Flashtime is something I will never understand

Yeah lets shoot at the guy whose indestructible, right

"you should probably move" LMFAOOOO

Batman v. Superman part 2 insert eye roll here

headbutts like children - and that's cheating on the playground Clark.

Heat vision makes so much more sense than "do you bleed?"

Lois coming in cluuuuutch

I like Lois' appearance better than Alfred bringing her, it fits Lois better

Arthur and Barry now have rivalry lmfaooo

Mr. Stone being obsessed with the mother box is annoying as fuck

Mr. Stone is an idiot and he should've fucking left the box alone

That was a horrible death why was that necessary?!

Arthur being a pessimist in this movie is honestly hilarious, tho why is he anti-love??

Barry being surprised at Batman's richness is never not funny

"I'll take that as a yes" okay Clark, don't show off

IS LOIS PREGNANT OR NOT?!

"Its really me Ma" Best scene of the whole fucking movie

Barry and Arthur heart-to -heart "I thought you didn't car" "I never said that" BUILD THIS FRIENDSHIP

BRUCE TELLS DIANA OF THE VISION

Bruce talking about faith never bodes well

THE QUEEN LOOKS BEAUTIFUL

"uh with the power of love" "Barry" LMFAOOOOOO

THE KRYPTONIAN SUITS LOOK AMAZING

Since when does Superman have Geokinesis??

I LOVE HOW BOTH OF HIS FATHERS ARE TALKING TO HIM I FUCKING LOVE IT

THE SUIT UP SCENE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME IT LOOKS AWESOME

"just have to knock a little louder" Well, that's one way to knock Bruce

Nice crash boy

Straight up sounded like "Loud and queer" lmfaoooo

Diana leading the teeeeeeeaaaam Hell Yes!

I do miss the "I think we're all gonna die" lasso-Arthur scene tho. it was stupid - but funny.

DIANA COMING IN FOR THAT SLICE AND DICE BAYBEEEEY

THE TEAM SHOOOOT YES totally taken from Marvel but fuck did it look good

"you really are out of your mind" says the idiot who talks to fish

"not done yet" vs "your welcome" I like the second one better

Glorious hair Arthur lmfaoo

Fucking chair eject

NICE SHISH-KA-BOB ARTHUR FUCK

Alfred doesn't even fucking blink when Clark arrives

ARTHURS TRIDENT DOES THE WAVY THING ON LAND TOO BROOOO

Oh yeah, step back for the demi-god princess

DONT PISS OFF DIANA AND DO NOT USE HER FAMILY TO FUCK WITH HER IT NEVER ENDS WELL

The familiar flash buildup power ring will never not make me happy

Daaaaaayum Diana!!

Nice catch Arthur

Diana knows her mother and sisters are alive bc they sent the arrow to her, so why is he even trying it??

NICE SAVE SUPERMAN!!

"Not impressed" Smooooooth

THAT FINAL BATTLE IS FUCKING AWESOME

TIME TRAVEL

BADASS DIANA WITH THAT DEPCAPITATION

You sent Today at 5:44 PM

Them all standing there was straight up "Fuck with us, I dare you"

The epilogue was great but that dream was confusing, are we doing Alt-universe shit??

MARTIAN MOTHER FUCKING MANHUNTER BITCHEEEEEEEEEEZZ

IS LOIS PREGNANT OR NOT?!

#Justice League #Justice League Snyder Cut #Snyder Cut

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chroniclackofselfpreservation · 3 years

Text

The Side Character

Summary: Bel-Imperia spends the evening with her friends. Or, a smattering of Early Modern characters meet up for drinks.

Word count: 1,353 AO3 link

Includes characters from: Hamlet, The Spanish Tragedy, The Merchant of Venice, and Doctor Faustus.

Note: Initially, I wrote this for my Early Modern English Literature class, and found it again going through my stuff. You don't necessarily have to have read the plays to understand what's going on, it just adds more context. It's more a commentary on the role of women in early modern literature.

Rain spattered the concrete with a heavy thrumming, soaking the hem of Bel-Imperia’s trench coat and the edges of the hood she’d thrown up over her auburn hair. Neon lights reflected off the oil-slick streets, and exhaust permeated the air.

The bar was only three blocks from her house and calling a cab seemed like a waste of money, even with the weather what it was. The crowds that usually shoved their way down to subway stations and across crosswalks had thinned somewhat in the cold wetness. Bel-Imperia could almost imagine she was alone. No ghosts. No blood spattered knives.

Just her and the pigeons.

She arrived at The Side Character far faster than she’d hoped. Her nose wrinkled at the face of the establishment, all peeling paint and greasy windows. Reaching out, Bel-Imperia grasped the rusted handle and tugged. The door’s loose hinges whined and wedged into the door frame, jamming it shut. The metal of the handle squealed and pulled free from the deteriorating screws. She stumbled back off the front step, looking at the rust-covered thing in her hand in exasperation.

She knocked and waited.

Before long, someone pressed their face to the warped glass set in the top half of the door and a smile broke over their face. It was Ophelia.

Bel-Imperia gave a half-hearted wave, feeling a bit too much like a wet dog waiting to be let inside.

Ophelia rammed her shoulder into the door and it popped open, hanging from the doorframe like a loose tooth.

“Hey, Bel! Glad you could finally make it,” she said, stepping aside and letting her enter. “Portia and Bassanio are already here,” she added in a hushed tone. Bel-Imperia shared her wary look for just a moment. They were fighting again, then. Not that she was particularly surprised. It was probably about that whole ring fiasco again.

The Side Character was as run down inside as out—creaky wood floors lacquered with spilled alcohol and the occasional vomit stain. Amber hanging lights swayed whenever the upstairs tenants plodded around. A small stage made of plywood and boxes crouched in the corner, supporting a glossy-eyed Helen of Troy at the microphone, crooning some nameless love song no one was really listening to. She recognized a few faces, but Ophelia tugged her out of the doorway before she could name them.

She led Bel-Imperia between the scattered tables to the corner-booth where Portia and Bassanio sat, pointedly not talking to each other. Ophelia scooted next to him and Bel-Imperia resigned to sit next to Portia. The woman was prickly on a good day and had already looked over her soaked outfit with a disgusted sniff.

“Um, hey Bel,” Bassanio said, closing a fist around the napkin he’d reduced to pulp with his fidgeting. “You look cold.”

“Why don’t you offer her your jacket?” Portia snipped.

Bassanio set his jaw. “We walked from the cab to the bar. You were outside for all of ten seconds.”

“You still could have offered.”

“I’m fine, Bassanio. Thanks,” Bel-Imperia said, shucking off her wet coat and placing it between her and Portia.

Polonius approached the table, a pad of paper in his hand.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ophelia groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“Greetings, random customers,” he said, wiggling his graying eyebrows. He looked to Ophelia and feigned surprise. “Daughter! What are you doing here?”

“Wishing I was dead already. Let the waiters do their jobs, Dad.”

“A father should relish the opportunity to serve his daughter and her friends. Such are the wild, wanton days of youth, right? That reminds me, Portia, I’ve something to say about you and Bassanio here—”

“Dad! Are you serious?”

“You’d do well to give this man your ear more than your mouth. Don’t be too hasty in turning your heart away, my dear.”

Portia bristled. “Excuse me?”

Bassanio began shredding another napkin.

“We’d like the Cajun fries, Dad. Okay? Can you do that?” Ophelia pleaded. Bel-Imperia glanced at Portia and, despite her dislike for the woman, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of empathy. She’d had old men tell her how to love properly too many times to count.

“I’m just giving some valuable advice, but fine,” Polonius said, then turned to Bassanio. “You tell me if Hamlet shows up, son. I don’t want him anywhere near my daughter.”

“We get it!” Ophelia cried, shoving her father away with an arm. “Sorry, guys,” she muttered, massaging her temples when he was finally gone.

“As if Hamlet would be caught dead in here,” Portia scoffed, picking at the paint on the table.

Ophelia lifted her face off the table, somewhat hopeful. “Do you guys want to go to The Heroes’ Tavern instead? Let’s go. Coming to my dad’s bar was a mistake.”

Bassanio looked up, panicked. Antonio worked there and had yet to find out that he’d gotten back together with Portia after their fling. Bel-Imperia shifted. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“Yeah,” Bassanio muttered.

“Everyone knows The Heroes’ Tavern isn’t exactly female-friendly,” Bel-Imperia continued in a low voice. “We’re better off staying here.”

Ophelia looked around, realizing no one was on her side. “What? They don’t—I mean there isn’t anything stating that, is there?”

“Might as well,” Portia said.

Ophelia pouted. “Well, what about Helen? She’s been in there tons of times, I’m sure she could—”

“No,” Bel-Imperia said, and the table went silent. She’d spoken too harshly again, but she knew that the only reason Helen got inside was because Faustus liked her just a bit too much.

Portia fidgeted and changed the subject. “Me and Nerissa had to cross-dress just to get through the door.”

“You what?” Ophelia snorted.

Bel-Imperia forced a smile, also wishing the subject would change. “How’d they catch you?”

“Nerissa curtsied to the bartender.”

Laughter erupted across the table, and Bel-Imperia noticed Bassanio’s shoulders relax. Across the bar, Helen finished a song, met with a drone of chatter and laughter rather than applause. The woman readjusted the microphone with a slender hand, cuffed by a purple and gold band. She met Bel-Imperia’s gaze for a split second, and a ghost of a smile passed over her face at the laughter emanating from her table, but it disappeared instantly and she started the next song.

“Move over,” a voice hissed in her ear and snapped Bel-Imperia out of her thoughts. It was Wagner.

“Come on,” he said desperately. “I can’t handle the Disaster Duo and their never-ending stream of bad jokes.”

Bel-Imperia slid over. “Who, Robin and Rafe? I think they’re charming.”

Wagner slapped the table, the purple and gold cuff around his wrist jingling. “They want me to join their little comedy routine. No one takes me seriously around here.”

Portia cocked an eyebrow. “You’re a magician who performs party tricks.”

“I’m a sorcerer,” Wagner said, expression darkening.

“I’ve heard it both ways,” Portia said lightly, shrugging.

Bel-Imperia inspected the cuff on Wagner’s wrist. The letters CM were embossed on it in twirling capitals. The same as Helen, and Robin, and Rafe. All of Marlowe’s underlings wore them. The mark of entertainers and comedians, not to be confused with side characters, least of all heroes and protagonists. In the case of Marlowe’s men, however, no one envied his protagonist.

No one envied Kyd’s either, but at least he didn’t brand Bel-Imperia and the rest of her troupe with their status. She’d even managed to get into The Heroes’ Tavern once, but only because Hieronimo offered to sneak her in.

Reynaldo passed their table in a waiter’s uniform, dropping a plastic platter of Cajun fries between them all absently.

Bassanio sat up, hold a sagging fry up like a champagne glass. “Who needs those protagonists, anyway?” he said, then motioned for the rest to follow his lead. They all selected a fry.

“What’s a tavern without a woman?” he declared as someone would a wedding toast. Ophelia giggled as everyone tapped their fries together like fancy glasses.

A pretty successful one, by the looks of it, Bel-Imperia thought, making sure to keep the comment to herself.

#shakespeare #early modern literature #thomas kyd #christopher marlowe #the spanish tragedy #the merchant of venice #hamelt #ophelia #portia #bassanio #bel-imperia #doctor fasutus #fic #fanfiction #fanfic #modern au #misogyny #tw misogyny #nicowrites

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preparetosufferemotionally · 3 years

Text

Home, Part four: First Impressions, Round Two

Remile and Prinxiety and hinted Logicality

TW: Unsympathetic Patton, child abuse, using others to get revenge, Remus, toxic relationship, abuse in general, cursing.

The school day started like normal. A loud bell rang, and chatter filled the halls with endless noise. Lockers slamming, teachers scolding about the dress code or other nonsense, and the general aura of chaos. Ah, school. Remy hated it.

He hated it, and then he saw Emile, standing in a corner, talking quietly to some people. Remy leaned forward to eavesdrop, fully prepared to turn away if it wasn’t something Emile related.

“I can’t believe he did that to you. He should get suspended!” One of the girls fumed. Emile shifted uncomfortably.

“It's fine, really. It wasn’t anything too bad. He just grabbed my arm.”

“Emile, that counts as assault.He could be arrested for that!” Remy lowered his eyes guilty. Not his finest moment.

“Yeah seriously, that's not right,” a person added.

“Plus, it wouldn’t hurt for him to finally have a taste of his own medicine,” a boy muttered. Emile exhaled.

“Look, it's very kind of you, but I’m fine. Besides, if you believe in exacting revenge on him, please leave me out of it. I’m not going to be the reason someone else suffers…” Emile trailed off. No one but Remy seemed to notice. The group wandered off, annoyed. Emile hugged himself, and sat down in front of his locker, reading. Remy stepped forward.

“Hey,” Remy said quietly, almost apologetic. Emile jumped, turning around.

“It's you,” He whispered. Remy shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down.

“It's me,” He admitted. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened yesterday. I got upset and I acted out of control and-”

“Oh it's not a big deal, it's fine, it's fine, fine fine,” Emile whispered quietly. Remy looked at him, concerned as he muttered fine over and over again.

“No, it's not.” Remy ran a hand through his hair, nervous. “You reminded me of someone I once knew, and I-” he paused, debating what he should say. “I lashed out, because that person hurt me.” Emile looked at him in confusion and hurt, as though he believed it to be his fault.

“But you knew my name.” Remy laughed slightly.

“Everyone knows your name. Just like they all know mine.” Emile still looked at him, confused.

“Even if that was what happened, who could hurt you?” Emile asked. “People come to me remedy broken hearts you destroyed, so how could someone have hurt you?” Hurt and a twinge of resignation flashed across both faces. Remy took a deep breath.

“They didn’t mean it. I’m pretty sure it was someone else's fault. But I couldn’t see their puppet strings. And I couldn’t understand the world wasn’t just made up of good and evil,” Remy said quietly. Emile watched.

“Why do I feel so sure I know you?” He muttered, half to himself, half to Remy. Remy whispered quietly.

“You did once.” With that, Remy walked away, leaving a surprised and confused look on Emile’s face. He entered the english classroom.

As usual, the first period teacher was late again. Bored, Remy scrolled through his phone, checking his instagram. Unsurprisingly, pictures of exes popped up. He wondered if he should like a picture of them, just to make them think. But for Remy, it felt too cruel. He decided to leave those people and their broken hearts in peace. Then the door swung open.

“Hey kids, Mrs. Harwood is on maternity leave, so I’m your substitute for the next few months.” Remy inhaled before he looked up. Please don’t be who he thinks he is. “Please put your phones away, and then we can start the lesson.” Remy put away his phone, but not before taking a quick picture of a smiling Patton Hart.

Somewhere in the back row, a strangled gasp of surprise exited someone’s mouth. And if Remy had to bet anyone else, anyone who might be affected by the presence of Patton Hart, it was Emile Hart. Patton Hart clapped his hands, still smiling brightly.

“It's lovely to meet such amazing students. My name is Mr. Hart, and I hope to get to know you all better as the school year continues.” The students whispered, some laughing, some uncaring, but none as surprised as the unlikely pair, separated by a row of seating. “Alright, I’ll call attendance now. Oh and any pronouns you want me to use, just let me know! Anthony, Kyle?”

“Here,” The boy who was talking to Emile said. Remy nearly slapped his head on the table. Oh, that was the one who used to have internalized homophobia!

“Conner, Mia?”

“Present Mr. Hart.” Patton paused after her name, eyes almost narrowing in surprise.

“Empire-black, Jeremy?”

“Thats me Mr. Hart. But call me Remy if you would. Thanks, teach,” Remy said, leaning back on his desk nonchalantly as though he didn’t remember any of the childhood catstropes. As though Patton Hart wasn’t the reason he lost his best friend. Patton stared for a second, and then he cleared his throat, continuing. Remy pushed up his sunglasses, running a hand through his curly black hair, a trait which both his fathers contributed to.

“Of course, I’ll write it down. Now, Gronsanki, Nyx?”

“Here!”

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

The bell finally rang, ending the class. Remy started to leave when Mr. Hart stopped him.

“Mr. Empire, come here please.” Remy sauntered over, faking confidence. He saw Emile still frozen in the back of class.

“Yeah teach? I have to leave soon, or I’ll be late to my next class.”

“I’m sure that won’t be an issue for you,” Mr. Hart said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.”Take a seat.” Remy sat down reluctantly.

“So, what's happening, teach? I didn’t do anything in your class yet.” Mr. Hart kept smiling, the smile cold and unforgiving.

“Did I teach you in preschool? Your name sounds familiar.”

“Not sure teach, can’t really remember things until you’re at least seven you know.” Remy shrugged, adjusting his leather jacket. “You might know my dads. The local author and illustrator duo? Ring any bells?”

“You are so like your father,” He muttered, almost hissing. Remy heard.

“Sorry, what was that teach?” Mr. Hart stood up, smiling brightly again.

“I think I’ve seen your father around. You resemble him quite a bit.” Remy quirked a smile. Liar.

“Aww thanks teach, I’m touched. Now can I get going? I have chemistry next period, and I can’t be late.”

“Of course. Have a good day. And please, do be careful.” Mr. Hart smiled. Remy did finger guns.

“Yeah, you too teach.” He stepped out of the classroom, and ran to chemistry, sending his dads and uncle the picture and a text.

Meet my new substitute.

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

“I AM NOT BEING HELD BACK ANY LONGER ROMAN! THAT BITCH IS GOING TO DIE! HE THREATENED MY SON!” Roman was desperately trying to stop Virgil from storming down to Sanders High School, and failing miserably. He stood in front of the door, his small angry husband about to attack him and break down the door.

“He didn’t threaten him, Virgil.” Remy walked in from the living room, shrugging.

“He kinda did dad.” Roman looked at him, exasperated.

“You aren’t helping!” Roman face Virgil. “He never made an outward threat to him. And if you storm down and deck him, YOU look guilty, not him.”

“Why do we keep stopping Roman? Why can’t we fucking give that bitch what he deserves.” Roman sighed. He was getting tired. He just wanted to protect his family. But he knew Virgil did too. And sadly, this was the one sore point.

“Fine. But we aren’t going to attack him. We will go about it in a legal setting.” Virgil stared at him.

“You mean, sue him?”

“Basically, yeah.” Virgil exhaled.

“Alright. Then we need our evidence. I’ll see what I can find.”

“I’ll get Remus on the science side of things.” Remy tapped Virgil on the shoulder.

“Hey pops, what should I do?” Virgil sighed.

“Just try to go to school normally. But if you do get pulled aside by him again, have your phone record the entire conversation, just in case, alright?” Remy nodded.

“Alright.” Virgil turned to Roman, watching Remy leave.

“It's time that he gets what he deserves.” Roman smiled, as Virgil hugged him. Maybe they could win this time.

#emile sanders #logicality #remy sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #prinexity #sanders sides #logan sanders #toxic relationship #toxiclogicality

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talesfromatabletop · 4 years

Text

RP Headcanons: DC Edition, pt 1

Batfam

Bruce cares, tries, and fails, but generally keeps trying for his kids.

Baby Terry McGinnis is the cutest thing ever and his dinosaur t-shirts reinforce this.

Slade Wilson - terrible person, great assassin, loving (if strict) parent.

Dick and Bruce fight constantly! Once Dick gets mad about something, everything makes him more angry until he and Bruce eventually resolve the first problem. It's sometimes big stuff... sometimes really petty shit.

Steph loves waffles. She will trade Tim for a 4-stack with chocolate chips.

Everybody wants to pair with Bruce on Gotham patrols. He gets the best fights and he brings snacks in the belt - it's a 50/50 if it's protein bars or trail mix, though.

Nobody wants to pair with Bruce on Gotham patrols. He won't let you make Social Media posts or stop for a hotdog at Rico's corner stand.

Jason and Dick actually fight a lot, still. Jason knows how to push Dick's buttons and he uses that as a self-defense tactic when he doesn't want to talk. ("Get Dick mad and he won't ask if I'm okay!")

Cass loved Steph before Steph loved Cass. Stephanie figured it out... eventually.

Lucius Fox only helps with the really weird shit because Bruce trades him Alfred's secret holiday recipes sometimes. Alfred's recipes are the true treasures of Earth.

Duke does his best not to get swept up in the weird, wild lives of his batsiblings tbh.

Tim doesn't babysit, he gets babysat.

Ace is the Good Boy™ but he will try and take Krypto down.

Titus is trained, we swear, but he's goofier than a ferret on drugs sometimes. 10/10 derp.

Sometimes Dami gives Batcow walks through the garden to help her relax.

Every Batfam member will stab the other for the last piece of Ma Kent's apple pie. Even Alfred.

Superfam

90s Kon and YJ Kon both deserve to exist. What better combo than the Insta-famous, outgoing showboat and the blunt, introverted buffbaby?

YJ Kon is way more of a "Conner" than 90s Kon. 90s Con is now "Carter."

Carter + Tim = Flashy Disaster Couple

Conner likes Wally's freckles.

Ma and Pa Kent accept any and all grandkids, time-travel or dimension-hopping be damned because "They're our boys, now, Clark, of course we want to see them!", and there are family trips to the farm.

Clark will bribe his friends and teammates with his mother's cooking. He can't bribe with his own, though, because he's terrible at it.

Jon would happily fly to Gotham for dinner before eating what his father burned made for them.

Krypto would probably go, too.

Clark doesn't know what to do with all of his sons but at least they aren't like his cousins.

"It's not about whether the boob window would look good or not, guys! It isn't happening!" is still something he's had to say before, though, and Clark's mildly ashamed of it.

With three superboys up to bat, the real issue is that none of them want to share the name. Jon had it first and that's fine with his brothers, really. Conner looks and feels like practically an adult, so he's meh about it. Carter wants something catchier to say. The result? Superboy, Kon and Rao.

Jor-El had a conniption when Carter named himself "Rao" as a hero. "You named yourself after OUR GOD?!? You disrespectful little-!"

Lex thought it was hilarious.

The boys are constantly in the background of Carter's posts and there's a few Insta vids of Lex trying and failing to hide that he's mildly amused by his son's shenanigans.

Flashfam

Barry is face-blind (has prosopagnosia). He can gradually memorize specific elements of a person's face ("Uh... Ollie's hair is like mine, right? So he's blond! And I know he has facial hair.") but has trouble associating them together unless he's had long periods of exposure to the person.

Wally is a nervous bundle of anxiety. All of the time.

Barry is practically incapable of looking on the dark side of things, and tends to believe the best of people - this extends to his villains.

Cisco is his bro, Caitlin is like the ditzy aunt, and Harrison is the exasperated father-figure that just wishes his kids didn't drink so much coffee.

Speaking of coffee - Barry doesn't drink it on the job. It makes him antsy.

Captain Boomerang - Digger, to his friends - is always on the edge of getting out of the game. Raising Owen ("Little Diggs") is a higher priority than his Rogues work. He waivers between retirement and always that "last" job that'll set him up to take care of his son.

Little Diggs is too pure for this world, and a fan of Flash even though he knows his father is a villain.

Wally isn't as forgiving with the Rogues as Barry is. This is especially true for Heatwave, Glider and Cold, since they've all double-crossed the Flash before.

Cold isn't fond of Kid Flash. Barry earns his respect and, in some ways, his admiration - this doesn't extend to Flash's smartassed sidekick.

Lisa and Mick are a surprisingly functional duo despite their dysfunctional dynamic. Lisa is generally in charge in their relationship, and Mick knows Len would ice him if he ever raised a hand to Lisa.

Len and Mick are best friends, despite the friction from their clashing personalities.

Lisa keeps pushing Len to either date or pick a favorite hooker - anything to get him laid and chilled out for once.

Len is practically addicted to puns. Not even just cold- or ice-related puns, either! He will make puns out of anything when given an opportunity, and genuinely is amused by them.

Arrowfam

Oliver is never in control of his daily life. He's barely in control of his personal choices most of the time.

Felicity runs it all - the team, the company, organizing his assignments from the League... everything other than doing the hard stuff herself.

Ollie really is a capable hero, but he doesn't believe it. He also doesn't particularly believe that the League needs or wants him there, but couldn't tell you why exactly they keep him, then, if questioned about it.

Roy has totally given up the flash and mystique of heroism tbh. Trucker hat? Check. Bow, arrows, and backup guns? Check. Flip-flops? All the better to chase people with. The slapslapslap of justice will strike terror in the hearts of muggers everywhere.

Oliver spoils Lian relentlessly.

Artemis is glad to avoid the weird shit that Roy and his clones get up to when Ollie isn't paying attention. She's never been more thankful that she isn't one of the adopted sidekicks.

Jim: Big, friendly, easily guilt-tripped, the pretty one.

Will: Mature, down-to-earth, does the guilt-tripping, the mom/dad friend.

Roy: Trash, amger!!!, can't be guilt-tripped but can be blackmailed, has no clue what he wants in life yet.

Lian will either murder you in your sleep or you are now a member of her family. There is no in-between.

No pets. Ever. They will get shot with an arrow by accident and nobody in the house is willing to deal with that emotional burden.

Oliver wants exactly 0 people in the "Arrowfam" but will kill you and/or himself over losing any member of his Arrowfam.

#dc comics #headcanon #dc headcanon #there is so much more #snippets with Azzy

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 4 years

Text

BTS DRABBLE

Anon Request: Dad!Bangtan, your kids play your pets

Tags: BTS, BTS Drabble, anon ask, anon request, pets, dad!bangtan, my work, dad au, husband au, jin x you, yoongi x you, hoseok x you, namjoon x you, jimin x you, taehyung x you, jungkook x you

Genre: Fluff

Title: A Kid’s Best Friend

KIM SEKOKJIN

“Okay, now remember, you have to be very gentle.” You cautioned, as you watched your daughter sit down, cross legged, on the floor of the living room.

“I know, mom!” She exclaimed, slightly exasperated, as she watched her father reach into the large cage that filled one corner of the room, and bring out one of the sugar gliders from inside.

“She’s always careful.” Jin said, as he gently encased the small, furry animal in his hands, and carefully walked over to where your daughter was sitting. He offered you a slight smile before sitting down beside her, holding out his hands, cupped around Odeng, as he said to her, “Okay, just like we practiced. You ready?”

Your daughter nodded, holding her own smaller hands out beneath her father’s, her eyes sparkling, her mouth held in a line of concentration, as she waited for him to place the sugar glider in her own outstretched palms.

Slowly, Jin lowered his hands to hers, and opened his fingers, allowed Odeng to settle onto her hands. You smiled as you watched her hold the animal, clearly so excited she could hardly stand it, but being extra careful not to move too quickly or do anything to scare him. She glanced up at her father, now leaning back on his hands and watching the two of them with a small smile on his lips, and she allowed herself a grin as Odeng snuffled around her fingers. “He’s so soft.”

The baby, perched on your hip, catching sight of the furry creature in his sister’s hands, let out a loud squeal and kicked his legs against you, reaching out with chubby fists toward the sugar glider. Slightly startled, the tiny animal scurried up your daughter’s arm and settled on her shoulder, looking out from beneath her dark hair at the room with wide, shiny eyes, its nose twitching.

She reached up to lightly stroke its head and back as she looked at her brother, asking curiously, “Mom, can I share with him?”

You shook your head, as Jin chuckled at his daughter’s question, and then said, “No, baby brother is too little. He’d be too rough with Odeng. So only you can hold him now.”

“Because I’m gentle and careful?” She asked again, not looking at you as she continued to pet the sugar glider with gentle strokes of her finger.

“Yes.” Jin said, as he stood, careful not to scare Odeng, as he said, “Now. Do you want to feed him some vegetables?”

“Yes!” Your daughter exclaimed, grinning up at her father as he went into the kitchen to find something for the sugar glider to eat.

MIN YOONGI

“Jagi, come here.”

You heard Yoongi whisper to you from down the hallway, and you sighed, pushing yourself up from the couch as you made your way down the hall toward where he was standing outside your daughter’s bedroom.

Reaching him, you playfully muttered, “This better be good, Min Yoongi. I just sat down.”

He grinned at you, briefly, before he motioned toward the cracked door of your daughter’s room and said, “See for yourself.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you stepped past him and peeked in through the open doorway, your eyes adjusting momentarily to the darkened atmosphere of the room, before you glanced toward your daughter’s bed.

Lit up by the soft glow of her nightlight, you saw her sleeping form, slumbering peacefully beneath the blankets, and then you noticed what Yoongi had been losing his mind over.

Next to your daughter, curled up happily in her arms, her dark head of hair resting on his body, was Holly.

“Shut up!” You whispered loudly, pulling back just enough to look at Yoongi, your eyes wide, as he raised his eyebrows at you and his lips tilted upward into a smirk, as if to say ‘I told you so.’

Taking one more quick glance back through the cracked doorway, you watched the small poodle and your daughter sleep, curled up with one another, both content, before you pulled back again and met your husband’s gaze. “But Holly always cuddles with you after we put her to bed!”

“Right?” He pulled on your arm, dragging you back toward the living room and away from the sleeping duo, so that you could talk normally and not have to worry about waking them. “I mean, I’m not surprised honestly. Ever since she started to walk and understand things more, Holly has gotten really attached.”

“Wow.” You sank back down into the couch, your husband sitting beside you, putting an arm around your shoulders as you said, still a little in awe, “I knew they loved each other, but betraying you to cuddle with someone else? That’s low, man.”

“I mean.” He chuckled slightly, as he pressed a kiss to your head. “I’m a little sad, but I’m sure I’ll get over it, seeing how cute they are.”

“Guess I’ll just have to be your cuddle buddy from now on.” You glanced up at him, grinning, before pecking him softly on the lips as he pulled you closer against him to rest your head on his shoulder, his arms going around your waist.

“You’ll do, I guess.” He said, amusement in his voice, as he kissed the top of your head once more.

JUNG HOSEOK

“Mommy, mommy! Watch this trick we taught Mickey!”

You heard the twins calling loudly from the living room, and you smiled to yourself, as you wiped your hands on a dishrag, leaving the prep for dinner as you entered the other room to see what they wanted to show you.

Hobi glanced up as you entered, a box of dog biscuits sitting in his lap, and flashed you his wide grin, as he patted the couch beside him. Sitting down next to him, you tossed your legs over his lap and then turned to the twins, as you asked, “Okay. What did you want me to see?”

“Daddy taught us how to make Mickey do a trick!” One of your sons said, as he beamed at you, motioning to the small dog sitting on the floor at his feet.

“Wanna see?” Your other son asked, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet as he waited, a trait he had clearly inherited from his father, who couldn’t hold still even when asked.

“What’s this trick you taught them?” You glanced over at your husband, and he raised an eyebrow at you, his hands massaging your calves, a look of amusement on his face as he met your gaze.

“It’s a surprise. You’ll just have to wait and see.” He said mysteriously, as he grinned at you, before reaching into the box of dog treats and handing one cookie to each twin. “Okay, boys. Show mommy. Just like I taught you.”

The boys nodded, their faces suddenly serious, as they turned to Mickey, who at the sound and smell of treats, had gotten to his feet, wagging his tail lazily behind him as he looked up at the twins, his mouth open in a large grin, his tongue lolling to one side.

“They’re pretty serious about this.” You murmured to Hobi under your breath, watching the twins get ready, as you held back a laugh at their expressions of concentration.

He nodded, and then motioned for you to watch, as one of your sons held out his biscuit and said sternly, “Mickey. Mic Drop.”

The dog instantly laid down, his focus still on the boy before him, as your son laughed, and patted him on the head, giving him the cookie. The dog took a minute, crunching up the treat, before the other twin stepped forward, and pointing his free fingers like a gun at the shitzu, yelled out, “Pointeu Jojun Chwal-jeung!”

Mickey quickly rolled over, all four legs up in the air, and held the pose, his pink tongue lolling out of his mouth, as he waited for his treat and praise.

“Good boy!” Your other son said, as he rubbed the dog’s tummy, and Mickey jumped to his feet, rewarded with another biscuit.

“You taught the dog tricks to the words of your songs?” You asked Hobi, glancing over at him in exasperation.

“Cool huh?” He nodded, grinning at you, before he gave the twins high fives, ignoring your laugh as you rolled your eyes at them, happily congratulating each other on tricks well done, Mickey bounding around at their feet.

KIM NAMJOON

Getting out of the car, the baby held on one hip, as you grabbed the diaper bag with your other hand, you addressed the two older girls, as you said, “Now remember. What don’t we do in grandma and grandpa’s house?”

“Play rough with Rapmon.” Your oldest daughter sighed out, holding her younger sister by the hand as they both excitedly danced in place, wanting to run ahead to see their grandparents.

“That’s right.” You said sternly, as Joon came around from the other side of the car, his hands filled with suitcases.

He offered you a smile, his dimples dotting his cheeks, before he crouched down in front of his daughters, pinching both of their cheeks and making them giggle as he said, “You can play with Rapmon. He’s always excited to see you. But just play with him outside, okay?”

The girls nodded, and he stood up, confident they had understood your admonitions, as he motioned toward the house with his head and said, a smile in his voice, “Now go. I bet grandpa and grandma are dying to see you.”

You watched your daughters run to the house and push through the front door, as you let out a sigh, adjusting the baby on your hip as you walked beside Joon up the pathway. “Tell me again why we travel with three kids?”

He laughed, transferring one of the suitcases to his other hand so he could put his arm around your shoulders, kissing your cheek fondly as he said, “Because. We’d be stuck at home with them if we didn’t.”

“Fair point..” You laughed at his joke, glancing up as the door to the house swung open once again, and your daughters came barreling back into the front yard, Rapmon hot on their heels.

The girls laughed and chased each other, as the large white american eskimon bounded after them happily, barking and jumping up on them when given the chance.

“Hey, Eomma. Appa.” You heard Joon say, and you glanced away from the kids to see your husband’s parents in the doorway, smiles on their faces.

“Let me see this one.” Your mother in law reached out to you, and you gave the baby to her, as she cooed at him and pinched his cheeks, making him giggle as she talked to him in a soft tone.

Glancing over your shoulder again, you couldn’t help but smile as you watched your daughters throw an old tennis ball to Rapmon, who happily chased it, and then brought it back, dropping it at their feet, just so they could throw it again.

They had been begging for a dog. Maybe it was time.

“They love that dog. You should take him back with you.” You turned to look at your father in law, who was standing beside his son, one hand on his shoulder, a grin on his face.

“I don’t think our apartment has room.” Joon laughed, and winked at you, as you shot him a grin, the girls screaming and Rapmon happily barking in the background.

PARK JIMIN

You sat on the couch, your son nestled at your side, as he watched, with wide eyes, as his father set down the pet carrier in front of you.

Jimin smiled over at him, his full lips curved softly, as he moved to unlatch the door of the carrier. “Remember buddy. Kitties don’t like loud noises, So we have to be quiet and gentle okay?”

You felt your son nod, his hair brushing your arm, as he watched his father finally open the pet carrier, and reach inside, bringing the cat out and into his arms.

You smiled, watching your husband cuddle the cat to his chest momentarily, brushing his face across its soft head, as it purred and settled into his arms. When your friends had gone out of town, and needed someone to petsit, Jimin had jumped at the chance. You didn’t own any animals of your own because of his allergy, but that wouldn’t stop him from taking advantage of the opportunity when it presented itself.

“Chim, did you take your allergy pill?” You asked, as he finally looked up at you again, one his hands stroking the cat’s soft ears.

“Yes, baby.” He rolled his eyes slightly, but in a fond way, because he knew you were just looking out for him.

“My turn?” Your son asked from beside you, looking between the cat and his father, as he outstretched his arms.

“Yeah, buddy.” Jimin laughed softly, before bringing the cat over to the couch and carefully lowering the furry animal into his son’s lap.

The cat instantly snuggled into his lap, as you son carefully began to stroke its back, and then looked up at you with wide eyes as he said, “It’s making a funny noise”

“That’s called purring.” You said, reaching out your own hand to stroke the soft fur, the rumbling of the cat’s chest loud in the quiet room. “It means he likes you!”

“Oh!” Your son exclaimed, his attention dropping back to the cat, as he continued to pet down its back in rhythmic strokes.

“Do you remember what his name is?” Jimin asked, settling into the couch on the other side of your son, watching him with proud eyes as he interacted with the cat.

“Marshmallow?” Your son hesitantly asked, his fingers pausing only momentarily on the cat’s long white fur.

“Yes! Good job, buddy.” Jimin praised him, as he ruffled his hair, before glancing over his head at you, a smile spreading across his face as he said slyly, “Baby, look how good he’s doing. Maybe we should get a cat.”

You laughed. “Don’t push your luck, Park Jimin.”

KIM TAEHYUNG

You stopped stirring the pot in front of you, readying dinner for the evening, when you heard screaming and laughing coming down the hallway from your bedroom.

Sighing, knowing something was going on that maybe shouldn’t be, you wiped off your hands and headed down the hall, entering your bedroom amidst sounds of chaos as you called out, “What is happening in here?”

Pausing in their activities to look at you, your daughter and son, huge smiles on their faces, laughter still evident in their voices, yelled out, “We’re jumping on the bed?”

“Oh, are you?” You leaned against the doorway, surveying the scene before you, hands on your hips, as your gaze went to your husband, also crouched on your bed, and only looking slightly guilty as you asked, “And did daddy say you could do that?”

“Yeah!” Your son yelled, throwing himself into the air and flopping down onto his back, as his sister followed suit, giggling as she began to bounce around the large mattress again.

“And Tan is jumping too!” Your daughter screamed, breaking into laughter as the small dog, who you hadn’t noticed until now, leapt after her, trying to playfully nip at her ankles as she bounded around the bed in circles.

“Babe.” You said over the kids yelling and Tan’s happy barking, shooting Tae a warning glare as he came to his feet and crossed the room to you.

“Babe.” He repeated, coming to stand behind you, his arms going around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

“What possessed you to let them do this?” You asked in annoyance, watching as the kid’s continued to trample around the bed, running into each other and bouncing and flopping down, as Tan chased after them, barking and yipping and bounding, a ball of fluff in motion.

“Come on, babe. We’re just having fun. You should join us. Try it. Have fun.” Tae teased in a low voice in your ear, nipping your earlobe slightly and making you jump.

“Okay. Fine. But you’re the one who has to make the bed after this.” You wagged a finger at him, before turning back to the kids, ignoring the triumphant grin that spread across his face at your words.

“Okay, move over. Mommy’s coming on the bed too.”

JEON JUNGKOOK

“Guys, come here! I brought you a surprise!”

You looked up from playing with the younger of your two sons on the living room floor at the sound of your husband’s voice echoing into the apartment, your older son instantly forsaking his toys and running over to his father, throwing his arms around his legs as he asked excitedly, “What is it, daddy? What’s the surprise?”

You smiled to yourself, turning your attention back to the toddler sitting beside you. You already knew what the “Surprise” was that Jungkook had brought for the boys.

“Well.” He crouched down in front of your son, tousling his dark hair, a childlike grin on his face as he said, “Grandpa and grandma are out of town. So they asked if Gureum could stay with us. Is that okay with you?”

“Gureum gets to stay here? And sleep over? And play with us?” Your son could barely contain his excitement, as he bounced on his feet, his father reaching back through the open door way to pull a pet carrier into sight.

“Yes!” He laughed, opening the carrier, as the small, older dog walked out, his tall wagging in lazy circles, as he surveyed the apartment.

“Yay!” Your son was instantly down on his knees in front of his father’s childhood dog, petting his silky head, as he kissed his nose and said, “Gureum! You get to stay here and play with me! Come on!”

Standing up, your son ran down the hallway toward his bedroom, the dog following after him at a slightly slower pace, tail still wagging in a even fashion.

Jungkook threw himself onto the couch, lying on his stomach, as he let out a long sigh. You glanced over at him and offered him a smile, as you said, “Your surprise went over well.”

“Yeah, I thought it would.” He grinned at you, and reached out with one hand to squeeze his younger son’s cheek, who was too busy building a block tower to notice the dog or his father.

“Daddy!” You heard your younger son call from down the hallway.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Can Gureum sleep in my bed while he’s here?”

He glanced over at you, one eyebrow raised, as if in question, and when you nodded, he called back to his son, “Mom says yes.”

You heard a loud whoop come from down the hallway, and you both laughed at your son’s excitement.

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