#Dad E will sit and have his afternoon coffee

[dersitedreamr]

John is sort of mouse-like in the sense that he’s one of those kids who never shows his face downstairs unless its dinner time but his dad can always hear the faint sound of him scuttering around in his room ….

#John #Just like … pitter patter of his foot steps… #Hes lured out of his room by the smell of hearty broth and soups #or Anything starchy #Dad E will sit and have his afternoon coffee #In silence in the living room #And just hear the sound of john sort of walking around his room…

[happiest-hotch]

Deserving

Summary: Aaron has a rough day being a dad, and you reassure him that he is very deserving of your family

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Angst/Fluff)

Word Count: 2.3k

Life with three children is not always easy. It's crazy to think it's been over a year since you and Aaron went from having two kids- Jack and your daughter, Eden- to three, adding sweet baby Noah to the family.

Mornings, although they've become a well-oiled routine, are always a challenge, but they're a satisfying one to complete.

Today, Aaron's slightly changed the patterns. Without an early morning budget meeting, mountains of paperwork, or active case, he's home until a 10 am call time for a case briefing at the BAU, which is very rare for a weekday.

So, instead of breakfast duty, you're taking the first shower while he handles getting everyone fed. 

You don't doubt his abilities, but your morning showers are always quick and effective, as opposed to your relaxing nighttime ones, which, when you're lucky, take place with Aaron, so you're dressed and ready for the day quickly. However, the glorious difference of having someone else there is that you don't get interrupted once. 

The chaos quickly catches up when you walk downstairs and hear your sweet baby boy crying loudly, very unhappy.

Aaron's frantically trying to calm the tear, offering him different types of cereal as a substitute for his toast and every juice in the fridge as he deduces the cause of an early morning crying fit. Jack looks done with his younger brother, sitting at the kitchen island with his hands over his ears, which makes it difficult for him to eat. He'd love a momentary reprieve of being able to travel two years back in time. He adores his younger brother, but you're not totally sure he wouldn't send him back for some momentary peace. As for Eden, she's nowhere to be found.

You spot the problem in a second, walking over and kissing the top of Jack's head before ruffling his hair affectionately. "Can you stop him now?" He implores.

Aaron looks at you with similarly pleading eyes, ready to admit defeat. 

You take the plate from in front of the toddler, open the cupboard and take a different one out before you switch the food over and slide the new plate across the countertop.

In a second, his tears stop, and he digs into his toast like nothing has happened. The tears on his red hot cheeks dry as he eats happily. With a look of thanks, Jack digs into his breakfast.

"He doesn't like the blue plate." You explain to Aaron.

Your husband frowns, as confused as you were when you first noticed the quirk. "He eats off it every night." You've even learned to bring it to Rossi's for your fussy baby. 

"Only at night and occasionally afternoon snack." You report to him.

Aaron's heart sinks, and the fact he doesn't know that about his own child hits him deep down. It's no secret that he's not always there, physically much less than most dads, and it weighs heavily on him.

"Oh." He lets out, trying to mask the disappointment he feels with himself. He turns around, grabbing your favorite mug. "Coffee, baby."

You smile, kissing his lips before gratefully taking the mug. "Thank you." You glance around the room again, not seeing a four-year-old coming running into the room. "Where's E?"

Aaron quickly puts down his mug. "Shit." 

Jack chuckles at his dad's unusual swear before looking down at his oatmeal when Aaron glowers at him. 

"It's okay." You place a gentle hand on his chest. "I'll sort her." With a quick kiss on Noah's forehead, you leave before Aaron can stop you. 

Her great drama of the morning is an easy fix when you brush through her hair with the detangler meant for dry hair, not wet. She didn't inherit straight hair like her older brother and dad, and she wants to keep her hair long, which means it gets knotted overnight. You don't blame Aaron for the hiccup. He can't have known when you're the one who usually brushes his hair- his specialty being braiding- and the bottles look identical aside from the tiny writing, which you know he can't see because, although you wouldn't tell him, he probably should be wearing reading glasses. 

"What's wrong?" Aaron asks, his voice laced with panic when his head peaks around her door. 

"You're done, baby." You tell her, letting her climb off the chair and go to brush her teeth. You walk over to Aaron, hoping to provide some relief that nothing is wrong and that his children are just as dramatic as he is. "She only uses the one in the bathroom if her hair is wet. When it's dry, it's the one at her dressing table." You love your boys, biologically related to you or not, so much, but you love having a girly girl. Aaron's out of his depth. Even learning to braid took effort and nights of practicing on your hair, but he succeeded. As ill-prepared as he feels for the future, you know he'll always try for his baby girl. It's something you adore about him.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes sheepishly, looking down at the carpet.

You wrap your arm around his waist, and his arms hold you tightly, both of you appreciating a quick hug in the hallway. "You can't expect yourself to be perfect."

But you are. Aaron doesn't say it, but it's on the tip of his tongue. 

"Go get ready." You instruct him. "I'll hold down the fort." 

You're always holding down the fort. "Okay." He agrees, only leaving your side after taking a long kiss that he feels undeserving of. 

Aaron's packed Eden and Jack's lunchboxes, which you're sure he's added loving notes to.

You get Noah changed for daycare, making sure he's got an extra change of clothing in his bag since he got paint all over his spare shirt.

Then you place him in front of the TV to watch cartoons with his siblings. Jack's too old for them, but he's such a good big brother that he never complains.

Your next task is packing lunch for the person who overlooked packing it for himself, writing him a note that you hope makes him smile. 

He's also effective at getting himself ready, often having to do it quickly and in the middle of the night without enough sleep, and he's finished quicker than you were. 

Aaron surveys the scene in the living room when he comes downstairs to find it quiet, much different from how you had. "How are they all ready to go?" He asks, and you see confusion where he's plagued with self-doubt.

"You did a lot of it." You assure him, aware your role this morning was fixing mistakes. "Are you taking Jack, and I'll take the other two?"

He's quiet for a second, brain buzzing away inside his head. "Yes. Yeah, that works." He agrees. 

You notice those little details, but it's easy to assume it's about the incoming stress of his workday. "Okay, well, I love you."

That gets a quicker reaction. "I love you, too." He says, cupping your cheeks to kiss you sweetly. 

"Team Hotchner?" You offer out a fist bump. 

Aaron takes it with a chuckle that momentarily halts his frown. "Team Hotchner." He turns to the living room. "Jack, you ready?"

He nods, high-fiving his sibling before tossing his backpack over his shoulder and walking to the door.

"Love you, and have a good day." You tell him, pulling him into a side hug. 

He hugs you properly. "Love you too."

Then two of your favorite people are out the door to continue their days, and you turn back to the other two. "Alright, babies, let's go."

~

Jack fills Aaron in on what's going on at school, or- as Aaron profiles it- everything minus the social aspects. 

They pull up to the drop-off zone, and Aaron stops, knowing Jack has grown past wanting his dad to walk him into class. "Have a good day, bud." He says. 

"Uh, Dad?" Jack starts awkwardly. "Did you bring lunch money for me?" Nope. Aaron didn't even know Jack's been buying his lunch. "It's just Y/n always-"

Aaron nods, fishing out his wallet from his pocket. "Y-yeah, of course." He answers. 

Due to how infrequently he pays in cash, the only notes he has are $50s, probably- and hopefully- not what you give Jack each day. 

He hands it over, and Jack scrunches his nose. "This is way too much." He states. 

Thankfully, Aaron thinks quickly on his feet. "Treat your friends." He offers.

Jack grins, knowing he has permission to carry such a large sum of money to a 13-year-old. "Awesome. Thanks, Dad." 

Then he's gone, and once he's out of eyesight, Aaron throws his head back against the headrest, hitting the steering wheel in frustration. 

He runs a hand through his hair, feeling utterly useless and like he doesn't have enough of a purpose in the family you've built together. Although you've always treated Jack like your own, you know his son better than he does, and that's a warning sign that he can't ignore. It doesn't feel like it was together when he thinks about it. He was just there while you effortlessly did it all.

It's a bad day at work. It starts before he gets there, and it doesn't get better. The silver lining is there's no case that the team can't consult on from Quantico. Still, he can't bring himself to return home when he should. It gets later and later, and his thoughts spiral as he looks out across the dark bullpen and feels like he's 12 years in the past when he was losing Haley because he couldn't be a dad or a husband. He's trying to be different, better, learn from his mistakes because he doesn't get another shot, and he can't stand the thought of letting you down. He's surprised he even got a second chance.

By the time he gets home, the kids are in bed. Jack's light is still on, but the house is silent. The TV's on low, but you're paying more attention to your phone than it. 

"Hey, baby, long day at work?" You wonder, not at all sounding mad about it. 

Aaron feels like he needs to be punished, yelled at, and made to sleep on the couch, but he's met with understanding. 

"Mhm." He answers, dropping his briefcase in his office and his keys on the side table.

"There's dinner in the microwave." You continue talking in your lighthearted tone. 

It's wrong to be short with you, and he hates himself for it. "Thanks." 

It's a pretty obvious sign.

You know something's wrong. 

He thinks he's good at hiding it, but he's not when your focus is solely on him. 

You're patient, letting him take your time as you put your phone down and wait until he's sitting next to you on the couch after eating. 

"What's wrong?" You ask. 

Aaron can sense your watchful stare and acts like he's focused on the TV. "Nothing." 

"Aaron Hotchner." You warn. "I would appreciate your honesty. Whenever you're ready." 

God, he loves you. There's nothing he's done in his life to deserve someone as understanding as you. "You're the definition of a supermom." He tells you. "I'm not jealous. You keep everything running smoothly here, and any stumbles you react to with so much grace. But I'm failing." You hate that he thinks that of himself. He's not perfect, but neither are you or anyone. One thing Aaron isn't doing is failing. "I barely know anything about our kids, stuff I should know, and I would know if I were a good dad. The thing is, I'm never here." Before you can dispute the claim, he continues. "I'm not, Y/n. If it's not casework, it's paperwork, but I'm never here as much as I should be. I don't deserve any of this."

You hate seeing him like this, having talked himself into his feelings all day. "Aaron." You coo, cupping his cheeks and trying to wipe up his tears. "Baby, you're allowed to make mistakes. Our kids love you and think you're the best dad in the world." You assure him. "Jack has looked at you like you're a superhero since I met him, and E and Noah do too. Every time you're away, they know you're out there saving people."

"You really think so?" He asks. "All of that?"

You nod, brushing your nose against his gently. "100%. There's never been a doubt in my mind that you deserve this family. You've got to believe me." 

A flicker of a smile lights up his face. "I do." He decides. 

"Did you eat your lunch?" You wonder. 

Aaron's unsure where it came from, but he sheepishly looks away from you. "I didn't."

You hit him lightly on the chest, scolding him for not eating. "Then you didn't see the note I added." 

"What did it say?" He asks, more excited knowing he's not in trouble.

You debate making him wait until tomorrow, but he needs to know. "Thank you for being the best dad ever to our kids. I love you." You recite.

It seems too convenient, and he frowns. "Really?"

"I think it's a soulmate thing." It's the only explanation you can come up with, having not known this morning that his stress was because he was worried about not being a good enough dad.

"I love you." He says, closing the small gap between you to kiss you.

You go in for another kiss once he pulls back. "I love you, too." You remind him. "Bedtime?" You ask when he yawns. "Then you can have another shot at perfecting the morning routine." 

He nods, grateful for everything. "Let's do it."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner au #aaron hotchner one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds family #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst

[rainisawriter]

To the Hot Springs! – Tsuji (PSF #18)

PSF Ficography | H&F Flash Ficography

Genre: Fluff, slice of life, romance

Prompt: “Did you plan for this to happen?” (@flufftober) / Fall Bucket List: Drive-in movie with all the blankets (@slumberpartybingo Fall Flash)

Word Count: 3,170

Pairing: Reader x Tsuji

World: High&Low

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You wiped off the counter with a hum, listening to the music that was playing softly from the jukebox in the corner. When the bell above the door chimed, you looked up to greet the customer only for a bright smile to come to your lips.

Tsuji smiled at you as he approached the counter, settling down on the stool. “Afternoon, love.”

Shibaman sat beside him, sending you a nod of acknowledgment before picking up a menu.

“Good afternoon,” you replied, reaching across the counter to press a kiss to his lips. He followed you when you started to pull back, making you chuckle. “The usual?”

“Please.”

“Need a minute, Shiba?”

He glanced up from the menu and nodded. “Yes, please.”

“What do you want to drink?”

“Coke.”

“Got it.” You grabbed a slice of apple pie for your boyfriend and two cokes for both of them. 

“Thank you, love,” smiled Tsuji, taking the fork you offered. He had been on the fence about trying out an American diner and the food it offered, but that was thrown out the window when you got a job there. He wanted to support you and, to his surprise, the food was quite good.

Your eyes scanned his face and knuckles before returning to the task of wiping down the counter. “I’m surprised you managed to make it here without getting into a fight.”

“You have no faith in us,” he pouted. “We don’t go looking for fights, they just find us.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” you smirked. “Everyone wants a piece of you, hm?”

His lips twitched up but he chose not to reply out of respect for his best friend sitting next to him, something the tall boy was grateful for.

Shibaman pushed the menu toward you, tapping on one of the pictures. “Is the chicken bake good?”

“Very,” you nodded. “The chicken is breaded with parmesan and garlic herbs. It’s one of my favorite dishes.”

“I’ll try that, then.”

“Okay! Do you want anything else, baby?”

Tsuji hummed as he chewed his pie, glancing at the menu. “I’ll take the same thing since it’s your favorite.”

You chuckled at his reasoning, scribbling the order onto your pad before ripping out the paper. “Josh, got a new order for ya!”

Josh appeared in front of the window to the kitchen, grinning as he took the slip of paper. “Coming right up!”

Josh was the owner’s son who had been tasked with running the place when his dad was out of town. Technically, he could have hired someone to work the grill but he adored making the food for his customers. People seemed to enjoy it, as well, so there were no issues.

His dad moved to Japan five years ago so his wife could be closer to her family. He always dreamed of opening up his own diner and he was sure bringing a diner specializing in American food would be a great idea. It certainly wasn’t as successful as he had been hoping, but he got just enough business to get by, though it probably helped that his wife and second son also had jobs.

Tsuji finished his pie, crossing his arms on the counter and watching as you worked. “Are you free this weekend?”

You paused, going over your schedule in your head. “I work Friday and Sunday but Saturday is free. Why?”

The two boys exchanged a look which you missed since you were brewing fresh coffee.

“Shibaman and I wanted to go to the hot springs. Can you get the weekend off and take us?”

You smiled at him. “Yeah, sure. It sounds fu – ow!” You hissed in pain when hot coffee poured onto your hand because you hadn’t been paying attention. 

Tsuji didn’t hesitate to jump over the counter, gently taking your wrist and pulling you over to the sink to run cold water over it. “You need to be more careful, love,” he scolded you softly, brow furrowed in worry.

Seeing him like this filled you with warmth. “Now you know how I feel every time you come back injured.”

He knew you had him there so he pouted, pushing your shoulder lightly with his own. “Does it hurt?”

“Only a little.” You tugged your hand from the water to inspect it. The skin was darkening but it didn’t look too bad. “I heal quickly, don’t worry.”

“Order up!”

You pushed your boyfriend toward the break in the counter. “You’re not supposed to be back here, shoo.”

“Don’t you shoo me,” he pouted, reluctantly returning to his seat.

You set their food in front of them, sending Tsuji a look when you noticed his boot print on the counter. He gave you an innocent look before shrugging, acting as if he had no idea how it got there. You just shook your head, grabbing a rag so you could clean it off.

The bell above the door chimed and you looked up with a smile but it quickly fell when you realized who had just entered. 

“Howdy, darlin’,” Kaminari tipped his cowboy hat at you before settling down at the counter, eyeing the two boys sitting a couple of seats down. For some reason, he believed himself to be a modern-day cowboy, descended from some famous gunslinger who had come to Japan to start a new life.

He was also in love with you, constantly flirting and attempting to shower you with gifts that you politely refused each time. He knew you had a boyfriend but he didn’t care.

“The usual?” You forced a smile, trying to keep your annoyance hidden by a cheery tone. He didn’t seem to notice, though Tsuji certainly did.

“That’s right, darlin’,” he grinned, eyes sparkling. “Ya know me too well.”

‘Kind of hard not to when you come in here every day and order the exact same thing,’ you thought, scribbling the order onto the notepad before handing it over to Josh. You poured the fresh coffee into a cup, careful not to burn yourself again, before handing it over to him. He liked it black, ‘like the souls of his enemies,’ he would always say.

Whatever the hell that meant.

When you set the cup down, he noticed how red your skin was and he grabbed your wrist with a frown. “What happened, darlin’?”

Your eyes fell to Tsuji, worried that he might start a fight. He was glaring at Kaminari’s hand, gripping the fork so tightly that you worried it might bend. As badly as he wanted to beat this guy into oblivion for having the nerve to touch you, he knew this job was important to you and he didn’t want to be the reason you got fired.

“Let go,” you ordered firmly, attempting to pull free from his grip.

His frown deepened and he reluctantly released his grip before leaning forward, his voice lowered. “Was it them delinquents that did it, darlin’? I can take care of em for ya.”

Tsuji scoffed, turning his attention back to his food.

Before Kaminari could speak, you replied, “I wasn’t paying attention and burnt myself. No big deal.”

“Ya gotta be more careful, darlin’. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be marred with scars or burns.”

You rolled your eyes at him, the comment annoying you more than it should have. Probably just because it was him who said it. 

Shibaman raised his empty glass. “Can I get a refill?”

You smiled at him, thankful for the distraction. “Of course!” 

Kaminari scoffed. “Ya could say please, boy.”

Shibaman quirked a brow at him but said nothing, finishing off the last of his chicken. You set the refilled drink down, grabbing Kaminari’s plate when Josh set it down on the kitchen window.

“Thank ya, darlin’.” He tipped his hat. “Ya know, you should consider hirin’ a security guard for this place.” His eyes flickered to the duo. “To keep the ramble out and keep ya safe.”

“I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself, thanks.” You held back a scowl, heading over to the register when an elderly couple approached. It sat diagonally from where Tsuji was sitting.

“Ya say that, but Sword district ain’t a place for people like you.”

You handed the woman her change, feeling your eye twitch despite the smile on your face. You had no intention of engaging with him or his stupid comments.

“I mean, look at ya. You’re so pretty, darlin’. You don’t look like a fighter.” Kaminari shook his head, stuffing his mouth with fries. That didn’t stop him from speaking, though. “Ya look weak and people will take advantage of that. I’m currently available, ya know. You should tell Josh to hire me so I can keep ya safe.”

‘Not a chance in hell,’ you thought, sending him a blank look. “Sorry, we’re not hiring.”

“Shouldn’t ya ask Josh that?” He quirked a brow, glancing toward the kitchen window. “No offense darlin’, but you shouldn’t be making those decisions.”

You offered him a mocking smile. “It came from Josh himself.”

He didn’t seem to believe you, glancing at the kitchen again but Josh was nowhere to be seen.

Tsuji shifted when his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. It was a new message from Todoroki, informing him that a group of guys were looking for them and headed his way. He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he stood up, pulling his wallet from his pocket.

You didn’t even have to ask, choosing instead to offer him a smile. “Be careful.”

“Always,” he smiled back, resting his hand against the side of your neck to pull you closer. You knew what he was doing and didn’t hesitate to meet him halfway, his lips claiming yours. 

You tilted your head to the side, running your tongue along his bottom lip as your fingers played with the front of his jacket. Shibaman looked away, nose wrinkled in disgust. Kaminari was staring at you in shock, his fork falling from his fingers and clattering to the counter.

Tsuji nipped at your lip, giving it a tug as he pulled away. “Call me if you need me, love.”

“I will. See ya, Shiba.”

The taller male offered you a smile as he headed for the door, Tsuji right behind him. You couldn’t fight the grin that took over your lips as you placed the cash into the register. Kaminari could only stare at you as you grabbed their plates, taking them into the kitchen so they could be watched.

Josh was squatting down by the door, hiding beneath the window. When he saw you, he whispered, “Is he gone yet?” 

“No,” you scowled, carefully setting the dishes in the sink. “Can’t we add a ‘no fake cowboys’ rule?”

“He thinks he’s a real cowboy so the sign wouldn’t apply to him.”

“‘No cowboys allowed,’ then.”

“That’s exclusionary. Dad would never go for that.” 

“It’s just one person, I think the business will survive.”

Josh just sighed, leaning back against the wall. “Come get me when he leaves.”

“Sure, boss.” You sighed as well, forcing yourself to go back out into the dining room. To your relief, Kaminari was gone, a wad of cash sitting behind his half-eaten food. With a shrug, you dropped the cash into the register before taking his plate into the back, letting Josh know that it was safe.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You pulled up in front of Tsuji’s apartment building, tapping the steering wheel in time with the beat of the song playing softly through the car. You sent him a quick text letting him know you had arrived. He said he would be right out so you preoccupied yourself by scrolling through social media, smiling at cute cat pics and memes. 

Tsuji tugged open the passenger door, leaning down to look at you. “Pop the trunk.”

You quirked a brow at him, glancing at the large duffel bag around his shoulder and the suitcase in his hand. “Babe, we’re only going to be there two days. Isn’t that a bit excessive?”

“Nope,” he grinned, standing up and heading toward the back of the car. You shook your head, opening it for him so he could put the bags in. He settled himself into the seat beside you, pecking your cheek. “Let’s go.”

“What about Shibaman? Where is he?”

“Didn’t I tell you?”

“No?”

“He ate something bad last night so he didn’t want to come.” He said it nonchalantly, focusing his attention on the radio rather than you in case you realized something was up.

“Poor Shibaman, I hope he feels better soon,” you frowned, putting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb. You felt bad for him, but part of you was happy about the development. It had been a long while since you were able to properly spend time alone with your boyfriend.

Tsuji connected his phone to the radio, bringing up the Spotify Playlist he had made for the trip, mixing songs that both of you liked. The first song was one of your favorites, bringing a smile to your lips.

You couldn’t sing well, but that didn’t stop you from belting out the lyrics as if your life depended on it. Tsuji laughed at your enthusiasm before singing along with you.

It took the entire day to reach the hot springs, night beginning to fall as you pulled into the parking lot. You parked the car and frowned, glancing around at the empty lot. 

“Are you sure they’re open?”

He sent you an innocent look, opening his door. “They should be. I’ll check.”

You hummed, eyes following him as he approached the doors, giving them a tug. They were locked, the lights inside turned off. He jogged back to the car with a frown.

“They’re closed.”

“Didn’t you check to make sure they would be open?” 

“…no?”

You sighed, crossing your arms atop the steering wheel. “What do we do now?”

Tsuji pretended to check his phone. “There’s a motel a few miles down the road.”

“We don’t have much of a choice, do we?” You put the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot, following Tsuji’s directions without a second thought.

“Pull in here,” he pointed toward a dirt path on the right side of the road.

“Are you sure?” you glanced at him with a frown before looking at the road. Tall trees lined either side of it, nearly bare as their orange leaves covered the ground. “This looks sus as hell, Tsu.”

“You don’t trust me?” he pouted at you, amusement dancing in his beautiful brown eyes.

“I trust you, I just don’t trust Google maps.” Still, you did as he told you, turning down the path. It stretched on for about five minutes before opening up into a large clearing, trees surrounding it like a barrier.

Rather than a motel as you had been expecting, it was a drive-in movie theater. A large screen sat at the back of the clearing, a ticket booth sitting at the end of the path and connected to the room where the projector was set up. No one was there so you assumed it was also closed.

“I think you got your directions wrong, babe.”

“I didn’t,” he smiled at you. “Go park the car in front of the screen.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you did as he asked. “Tsuji, what -“

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, hopping out of the car and jogging over to the projector room, disappearing inside. An image appeared on the screen and your eyes widened with joy as the Nightmare Before Christmas started to play.

Tsuji appeared at your door, reaching in through the window to press the trunk button before disappearing behind the vehicle. You got out and followed him, watching as he pulled out about a dozen blankets from his bags.

You put your hands on your hip, sending him an accusing look. “Did you plan for this to happen, Tsuji?”

He sent you an innocent look, but the wide grin on his face gave him away. “I don’t know what you mean, love.”

“You knew the sauna would be closed and Shibaman isn’t actually sick, is he?”

“Fine, you caught me.” He closed the distance, hands finding your hips. “I just wanted to surprise you for our anniversary.”

“Our…” you paled, shoulders tensing. 

“Oi, don’t tell me you forgot,” he pouted. It wasn’t annoyance or sadness dancing in his eyes, though, it was amusement. You never even remembered your own birthday so he had honestly expected this.

“Baby, I am so sorry! I’ve been working so much lately that I completely forgot! Oh my god, I’m terrible, I’m so so -“

He cut you off with his lips, cupping your face. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against your own, voice soft. “It’s okay, love, I forgive you. I know how hard you’ve been working, that’s why I wanted to prepare this for you.”

“Thank you so much, Tsuji. God, I love you so much!” You threw your arms around his neck and he chuckled, squeezing you tightly.

“If you love me, help me carry the blankets.”

As if to reinforce his choice, the cold autumn wind picked up, bringing goosebumps to your exposed flesh. Both of you grabbed a pile before he led you to the hood of the car. You watched as he set up a makeshift bed atop the hood with his pile before disappearing back into the car to fiddle with the radio.

The movie started to play through your speakers and he turned it up so you could hear it outside of the car, opening the windows to assist with this. You carefully climbed up onto the hood, nose wrinkling when you felt the metal shift beneath you. 

Tsuji joined you, leaning back against the windshield before pulling you against him. Most of the blankets you had been holding were used to support his back, acting as a pillow, while the thickest blanket was used to cover both of you.

You hummed, arms wrapped around his slim waist as you inhaled his scent. He had started using a pumpkin spice-scented cologne because he knew you loved the smell. “How did you manage all this? It couldn’t have been cheap.”

He hummed, running his hand up and down your back. “Shibaman’s aunt is dating the owner. It took a lot of bribing but they finally agreed to let me have the place for the night.”

You chuckled, sending him a grin. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you love it,” he grinned back.

“I really do,” you agreed, leaning up to claim his lips before shifting so you could see the screen. “Did you bring any snacks?”

“…”

“Oh my god, Tsu, you forgot the snacks, didn’t you?”

Tsuji scowled at the screen, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. “Damn it, I knew I was forgetting something.”

You just laughed, patting his stomach comfortingly.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

-> High&Low/Rampage Taglist: @kiraaaeon, @simpforchuchu, @star2fishmeg, @thatpoindexterpixy @manhwabtch

-> General Taglist: @asterhaze, @mrskenpachizaraki

#flufftober2023 #day 18 #high&low #tsuji #high&low tsuji #high & low #high and low #high & low the worst x #fanfiction #fanfics #oya koukou #slumberpartybingo #RFO - PSF #RFO - PSF23 #rains ficography #fallflashspb #RFO - SPB

[ghostie-luther]

Hello! I loved reading about your modern, adopted au, TMNT 2012 VERSE, headcanons! I was wondering if you could do some more headcanons for everyone? I'm hooked on your headcanons and AU :3

Hi hello!! I'm so glad you like them!! And ABSOLUTELY!!

Leo

Leo was gifted a sword by splinter when he was 12. It's nicknamed Mochi and its absolutey gorgeous.

It was locked away for a couple of months when splinter found Leo trying to show off to Raph by trying to play in real life fruit ninja.

Watermelon UP THE WALLS

(And lemon juice in his own eyes. Lesson learned).

His favourite hairstyle is a messy half up half down look. He wants to grow it out a little though as its just under his ears at the minute and wants to dye the underneath white!

However it's normally just swept across his forehead and styled neatly.

Hes the poster boy for golden child.

Does most of the housework.

Suuuuper into acoustic guitar though he can't sing for his life, and normally gets mikey to pick up the slack for him in that regard

His bedroom is the second cleanest, and it's literally so minimal. Like. Not even that. It's nearly completely plain.

The only thing he has on his walls is the rack for his sword.

Wants to be a sensei when he's older!

Loves loves loves kids

Second most empathetic out of the kids (Mikeys the first).

Hes normally the one to calm the others down when they're painfully reminded of their past.

With Raph, he never says when somethings bothering him, but he has tells. He explodes more, he's rough with the others, he goes a deadly quiet, and he comes home later everyday somethings amiss. With Raph, the best thing to do is to put him in a headlock and sit on him until all the fight goes out of him. They never talk about it, but Raph'll tap his leg and theyll give eachother silent fistbumps before going their separate ways.

With Donnie he'll notice the genius staying up later and later, multiple unfinished coffee cups and eyebags galore. In these phases Don's usually too out of his staring at his computer screen, fingers twitching without touching the keyboard, to notice Leo wheeling him away and putting him to bed, turning off his alarms and calling him in sick to school.

Mikeys tell is his body language. The boy wears his heart on his sleeve. He doesn't often have bad days (that they notice), but when he does, it's an instant tell. His lip will quiver, his chin wobble, and his eyes will brim with tears doing the most mundane, normal things. He'll be slow, and often excuse himself to bed early and reemerge late into the afternoon. Like he's exhausted. These days Leo will wrap him up firmly in a hug, deposit them both on the sofa, and cuddle with eachother while watching movies. It's the only cure that works with him. Human contact.

(Leo's own tell is when he gets stuck in his own head. Why can't I help them? Can I be as good as my dad? Do I offend them with my perfect life? Why can't I get my grades up? Why can't I perfect this kata? Why am I feeling like this? He'll go on to completely overwork himself, before reaching a complete block and passing out. That's when his brothers come in, putting him in bed and laying around the room, nursing him back to health. He's never felt more loved).

Some of his favourite songs are;

Shinunoga E-wa, I'm still standing, The nights, house of memories, Mary on a cross, white blank page, the nights, golden hour, Midas, and Youth.

Raph

He has his big brothers motorbike in the garage, but it's pretty busted. He's trying to fix it up but he's also penniless lol.

So to fix that, he got himself an afterschool job!

He currently works changing tyres and transporting cars in their local mechanics shop, and he literally loves it.

He loves the grease, the smell of burnt rubber, the sound of his fellow mechanics swearing and cursing as loud as they can across the shop.

It's like therapy.

Goes to visit his brother maybe twice a month, if only to smooth out kinks of his release for whenever he gets out. Namely, a list of rules. These are;

Don't ever come near his brothers,

He goes to his ma's grave and begs for forgiveness,

He straightens out his act.

Because maybe, just maybe, one day Raph will let him back into his life.

He and casey are the ultimate bros. Ride or dies, besties, you name it, they are it.

Really really wants an American pitbull.

Splinter doesn't really allow animals in the home at the minute, so he rescued a baby turtle he found in a drain!

He named it slash, and that little thing gets vented to and lives like a fucking KING.

Nobody can get close to him. No one.

Hid him for three months before splinter found him looking for Raphs dirty clothes to wash.

Has a stash of camomile hidden at the very top of the kitchen cupboard.

Has a 'situationship' with his bosses daughter, Mona.

By which he'll try to make a move and she'll mop the floor with him, yet call him up at three in the morning.

He thinks he's too stupid for college, as he dropped out of school for a while to help his ma, and then was thrown about the foster system a couple times. He never settled back into a school setting until he was eleven, and he had to retake a year.

Tries to teach splinter how to box.

Goes to the gym and heavy lifts nearly three times a week.

Bench presses mikey.

Super into kids shows, though he tries to keep it a secret.

Learnt how to make fufu from a video on tiktok, and fell in love with it.

He served it with beef stew, which was nicely spiced.

(Though donnie hated the fufu, Mikey loved it).

Some of his favourite songs are;

Lost in the fire, 505, anything by The Score, Mary on a cross, cigarettes out the window, they dont really care about us, and hot girl bummer.

Donnie

Really really hates being cold, yet that's never a problem because he's always extremely warm??

Like so warm it literally makes him miserable.

Always takes cold showers just to lower his own body temperature.

Broke his old glasses so much he made a pair of heavy duty metal ones that have a torch built into the side for reading in the dark.

The CLEANEST bedroom ever. He can't sleep if there's clutter in his room.

You may be thinking, hold on, Isn't Donnie the mad scientist?? What about all of his science sheets and whatnot?

Well dear reader, I said bedroom, not LAB.

Jesus CHRIST that thing is a bombsite.

There is shit EVERYWHERE.

On the floor, on the ceiling, on his desks, in the desks, on the walls, etc.

His "lab" is actually the old conservatory where splinter used to grow his plants.

He gave it up to Donnie when the boy was trying to do his experiments in his room but kept having meltdowns over the mess and lack of space.

(Psst, Donnie is autistic).

Hates the feel of Leather.

Donnie doesn't bring up the fact that he has autism. Not because he's ashamed, but he just doesn't think it's a big deal. There's only a few things that really agitate him as a result of his 'diagnosis' but they're things that alot of neurotypical people have too.

He literally gives zero fucks and neither do his brothers. Nobody ever talks about it because its so normal to them.

Microwave pasta is his comfort food. Will eat this for breakfast lunch and dinner with no problem.

We've established the massive monster crush on April right?

Well, turns out someone likes him too.

Irma. It's irma guys.

Shes like infatuated with him.

Poor boy is literally blind to it though.

She'll trip through a door trying to open it for him and he'll be like "Oh, thanks", and just walk through leaving her behind.

April knows everything. She thinks it's hilarious.

Some of his favourite songs are;

SNAP, Colypso, don't blame me, Tek It, cooler than me, Josslyn, blood sweat and tears, tainted love, beautiful boy, and take me to church.

Mikey

Ah yes, my favourite.

As said in Raphs section, he loved his attempt at Fufu, though Donnie hated it. Donnie mostly hated it because he didn't like using his hands, but with Mikey it was like second nature.

Mikey used to eat with his hands alot, and most of it was messier than fufu.

For example, Poi.

Some of his older neighbours used to make poi, and he remembers the sound of the pestle grinding away as he sat on his back porch so vividly.

It also tasted lovely, even though sometimes he'd forget to wash his hands before digging in, resulting in a wet dirt mix.

Has one very sharp canine that is utterly adorable when he smiles.

Sorta mayyyybe has a little puppy crush on one of the seniors in his school.

His name is leatherhead.

Hes young, and he's figuring things out, but he's mostly just happy being in his company when leatherhead tutors him for math and science.

He knows nothing will ever happen, and the crush is slowly going away.

Mikey has trouble with the academic side of things at his school.

He didn't really go to school between the ages of 6-10.

He was knowledgeable about things that he could actually use, instead of bothering around with algebra that he wouldn't even use on his island.

He comes from a tiny little island off the coast of Hawaii, so rural that it doesn't even show up on Google maps.

It's called Uliuli Nani.

It roughly means "beautiful blue", which is true. Completely surrounded by water, it has lush trees and has plenty of wildlife.

It is accessible by boats, or there is a singular landing strip towards the north.

Mikey was escorted away by plane, and the villagers gathered along the landing strip to wave him away.

Misses his siblings like crazy, though he misses his brother Dami the most. He's determined to find him.

He parkours like crazy on top of buildings. He's giving splinter grey hairs.

Is very concious of money, even though Splinters sat him down and told him that he doesn't need to worry after Mikey hid the fact that his only pair of shoes had no bottom in one of them. As in, none at all, it was basically sock against floor.

It's hard to break the habit though, after worrying about 7 other siblings.

Was the quickest to call Splinter dad.

Has a special place in Caseys heart. The dude walks him home from school most days if he doesn't want to take the bus.

Has a butt load of small scars from his rowdy childhood lol.

(And one other that he really doesn't want to talk about).

As mentioned in Leo's section, can go through rough periods of time.

Most days he's fine, but then he'll see or hear things that'll remind him of his childhood, and then he's back there.

Oh god we've run out of baby milk. We can't afford more. We need a new crib. Mamas pregnant again. Dad's coming, quick hide the babies! "Mikey have you eaten? You look really pale!" "No..ran out. Gave the last of it to miā." "We need a doctor! Tūlus burning up!" God did she really need another child?

Then comes the guilt. Did he really leave his kids behind?

His kids. His. No child should feel as if they're the parent at the age he did.

Then comes the fear. He can still remember breaking down, the deep rooted dread everytime his mother came back to the house with a barely sloped belly and a curved smile. He remembers the feeling of his chest caving in, his heart beating out of time, the nervous sweats.

Remembers screaming at her to look after HIM GODDAMNIT!

He never wanted to be the glorified babysitter. Sometimes he wished he wasn't there at all.

When he told Dami this, the elder grabbed his face and made him swear to never say that again.

He promised.

Doesn't mean he never thought it, though.

Lived without WiFi until he moved to the US. They had WiFi, he just didn't have a phone and there was terrible service anyway.

Some of his favourite songs are;

The night we met, false confidence, je te lesserai des mots, Kids, I lived, just a little while, Mary on a cross, family line, somewhere only we know, house of memories, something in the orange, softcore, I gotta feeling, the nights, Midas etc.

I highly associate Mikey to the song Family line by Conan Gray.

Also softcore by the neighbourhood. Namely this part "I've been confused as of late (yeah)

Watching my youth slip away (yeah)

You're like the sun, you wake me up

But you drain me out if I get too much

I might need you or I'll break

Are we too young for this?

Feels like I can't move"

Donnie usually takes his coffee black. Though sometimes he decides he needs sugar and dumps about 5 tsps in.

Raph boxes mona frequently, and used to let her win. However, she found out, and was livid, so now he actually tries.

Mikeys playlist is all over the place. So many favourite songs all at once!!

Leo feels extremely guilty and honoured that he grew up in the loving household he did. He feels honoured, because he grew up with a father that loved him, three meals a day, healthcare, and a warm bed. He feels guilty when he hears Donnie going to his father's room at 3 in the morning, asking if he's sure he still wants him. When Raph stares dead eyed into space, hands clenched and shaking, around the mandatory letters that the state prison sends him about his brothers progress. When Mikey flinches when a man shouts too loud, when he puts his headphones in and speeds up when he walks past a park, trying to avoid the sound of children shriek and yell as they play, when he turns off the TV when anything about his home country is mentioned. Leo tries, he really does.

Mikeys favourite series is shameless US (for obvious reasons).

Aaaand that's all for now!! See you and thank you for the ask!!

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt headcanons #michelangelo #leonardo hamato #mikey hamato #raphael hamato #donetello hamato #tmnt 2k12 #can you tell im trying to learn about Hawaii because i know nothing

[theramenbandit]

20 and 59 for the mashup au prompts. Any pairing that strikes your fancy :)

From this post here 

Describe how I’ll combine them: Co-teachers to lovers via secret admirer shenanigans.

“And don’t forget, project drafts are due next Thursday.”

So far, so good, Lena thinks as she gathers up her belongings and heads out the door of her first class of the day. She likes it here in Midvale. It’s a lot slower, a lot quieter, a lot--

Force, mass, velocity, something bumps into her hard.

“Oh shoot! I am so sorry. Here…” 

The woman who apparently was the thing that bumped into her bends down and picks her things up off the floor. 

Lena is, of course, properly miffed and halfway to a firm scolding until the woman straightens up again and Lena forgets how talking works for a moment.

Her hair is flowing in golden locks and the bluest eyes she had ever seen are looking at her from behind dark-rimmed glasses.

“Wait, you’re the new girl, right? Lena from Metropolis?” 

“Yes,” Lena clears her throat. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Sorry about that,” the woman says nervously. “Let me make it up to you. Lunch in the hall at lunchtime?”

Lena should say no. She’s not here to make friends. But the blonde is cute and her shoulders are...nice. So…

“Okay.”

“Okay.” 

The blonde gives her a thumbs up and turns to leave, but quickly turns around and jogs back to where Lena is standing mutely. 

“It’s Kara, by the way.” She extends a hand towards Lena in introduction. “Kara Danvers. I teach English.”

Ao3

Kara Danvers takes it upon herself to be Lena from Metropolis’ first ever official work friend.

-

Lena loses a fight with the coffee maker. She’d been having a bad day already, see. Her mother had called this morning, so naturally, by the time the damn machine stopped working, she was on the brink of tears. 

“Hey there, is everything alright?” Kara asks cautiously as she walks into the break area. 

“Everything is fucking dandy, thanks.” Lena growls, angrily swiping a hand at her eyes.

“Whoa, okay… You know, Noonan’s is right over there and your next class isn’t til 3, we could--”

“How did you know that?”

Kara casually points to the schedule on the board behind her.

Lena only growls again.

“Okay, you’re really wound up. Come on, a walk could do you some good.”

Kara learns that Lena is here as a middle school science teacher because she wants to prove something to her mother. And the pressure is getting to her.

“Sometimes you don't have to do amazing, just have to do your best.” Kara says reasonably. “Look, you're great and your students love you. So don't worry about what your mother says. Judge your work by the proper standard or... something.”

Lena chuckles at that. Kara was probably right. 

"Thank you. I… I really needed that." 

Kara nods sagely and continues to sip at her iced coffee. "What are friends for?" 

-

The note is simple and plain and handwritten and she has absolutely no idea what it means. Or who it’s from, for that matter.

It’s, well... It’s notes. The note contains notes. That much she can suppose from the five lines and the G-clef and the black dots staring back at her. She looks around for anyone who might have left it there by accident, but she’s alone in the faculty room. What’s more, the note is wedged between the pages of her lesson plan for today, the only thing currently lying on her desk. Frowning, she looks back down at the small piece of paper and shoves it into one of her drawers. She’ll decide what to do with it later.

-

The note notes are piling up now and she thinks this might be something worth investigating. She'd gotten three more over the last week, each with the same handwriting and the same paper, but the notes on the staff (she does know some things) seemed to be different every time. She lines them up in order of the dates she got them and squints intensely at them, daring the offending dots to tell her what the hell is going on. 

-

Kara's eyes widen in horror when she walks into the faculty room and sees Lena glaring at the notes. 

Her notes. 

She quickly makes to get out again but Lena's already seen her. 

"Kara, hey!" 

Shit. 

"Hi, what's up?" the blonde responds, her voice suddenly pitchy. 

"Can you help me figure this out?" She scoots over as Kara leans into her space and over her desk. 

"Oh, they're notes," Kara tries nonchalantly. 

"I can see that," Lena deadpans. "Notes to what?" 

"Ehm, well this is a G, and this is a D… That's an E minor… It's a song."

Lena fights the urge to dramatically roll her eyes. "Do you know what song it is?" 

Dammit, this is wonderful. 

"It could be any song, Lena." 

She's still trying to dodge it but Lena is adamant. And Kara doesn't want to lie, but she doesn't want to be found out, either. 

"Uh... I could play it and maybe we can figure it out?" 

"Okay, let's try that." 

-

The music room is empty, much to Kara's eternal chagrin, so she and Lena walk up to the piano and she starts to play the notes that Lena holds up in front of her. 

"It's Elvis," Kara says simply. 

Lena soon recognizes the tune and starts to hum along with the keys. Just then, Kara slowly looks up from her seat and is mesmerized by the sight: the light is hitting Lena's face just so, illuminating the lines of her jaw, the curve of her lips, the dark red of her hair. She wishes she could stay in this moment forever. And if Lena were paying attention, she would notice that Kara wasn't even looking at the notes anymore. She was playing by heart. 

"Oh, that's sweet," Lena whispers when the tune is done. "And you never told me you could play." 

"My dad taught me the basics. The rest I figured out myself," Kara says quietly. 

"Aren't you full of surprises?" 

-

"It might be Mike, you know, that guy from the marching band? He is objectively good looking." 

"He chews with his mouth open." 

"Ooh, could it be Jack from phys ed?" He walks around with a guitar most Fridays." 

"Lena, Jack is so gay for the bar owner and you know it." 

"Well, who could it be?" 

Me, Kara wants to say. But she doesn't. She doesn't want to make things weird. 

They're sitting on the bleachers during the afternoon break, Lena leaning into her side munching on the donuts Kara had gotten for them. It wasn't hard for them to fall into this sort of easy companionship. Kara was open and friendly, and Lena, once her walls had gone down, was sharp and fascinating. And Kara fears that the feelings she's developed might ruin whatever this was that they had. So instead of being honest with herself, she just shrugs and bites sullenly into her own donut. 

"It could be anyone." 

-

People are starting to notice how often they are together, start talking about how cute they look next to each other. And so people waste no time in throwing them into each other's paths, especially since prom is three days away. 

-

“Come ON, Lena!” Kara yells as she grabs Lena’s hand and drags her to the dance floor. Lena tries her best until she isn’t so much trying as she is struggling to keep up with Kara, who seems to have only got more hyper as the night wore on. But the joy on her face is infectious, and honestly, if she got to see this every day, Lena wouldn’t mind.

The song ends and the band’s vocalist approaches the mic.

"Hey, hey, everybody, y’all having a good time?” 

The crowd whoops in affirmation. 

“Alright! Well I think it’s about the proper hour, so we’re gonna slow things down a bit starting with a classic.” 

The opening strains of a piano-driven ballad fill the air, and Kara politely extends a hand towards Lena.

Lena accepts.

Wise men say only fools rush in / But I can’t help falling in love with you

The world around them dissolves as they sway together, Kara’s hand gentle against the small of Lena’s back, Lena’s arm reaching up behind Kara’s shoulder. 

“It’s Elvis,” Kara whispers against her hair.

“It was you,” Lena chuckles in response.

“You knew?” Kara says as she draws back to look at her.

“No. But I was kinda hoping.” She smiles warmly and Kara has never seen anything more beautiful in her life.

“You’re not mad?”

“Darling, why would I be mad?” Lena lifts her hand to brush it across Kara’s cheek. “You had me at Oh Shoot."

Kara laughs as she ducks her head in embarrassment and Lena cannot help but join her. 

"I'd really like to kiss you right now."

"Please do."

#Full disclosure i have zero experience with teacher AUs #Like i was legit scared when this landed in my inbox #But i had fun doing this and it was a good brain stretch #so thank you spicycheeser for the challenge and i hope this was to your liking #i went with sc bcs why not #20 teacher au #59 interrupted declaration of love #RBmicrofics #writing tag #word count #1476 #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl

[dameronology]

love in the time of PTA meetings {marcus moreno} - 1/5

summary: despite what pinterest shows, being in a parent in the twenty first century is hard; especially a single parent. your kid takes up your entire life and the idea of finding a fairy tale is laughable - that is until you finally attend a p.t.a meeting and cross paths with a certain marcus moreno.  {series masterlist}

warnings: i do not have children. i don’t know children work. this written entirely what i have seen them do in the sims 4. also, swearing. 

- jazz

Leaving work early was never a good look.

Leaving work early because your child had managed to set fire to a trash can was...well, it was something else entirely.

After rushing out of a very important meeting and parking your car in a did-you-park-it-or-crash-it manner, you were sprinting across the play ground and towards the front entrance. Having given up half way through, you’d kicked your stupidly high heels off and held them in one hand, trying to organise your slightly disheveled hair as you entered the building. Most parents might have been nervous to collect their kid after a call from the principle, but this was a regular Tuesday for you. Jack was a good kid, perhaps just a little...misguided. In your books, it was impressive that a five year old had managed to discover pyrotechnics, though you sensed the school might have been a little less lenient about it. 

‘Hey!’ You greeted the principle with a smile as you breezed through the doors. 

Jack was in a chair by the front desk, a gleeful look on his face when he saw you. As far as he knew or cared, he got to go home early and watch Paw Patrol for the rest of the day. 

‘Afternoon.’ He replied. ‘You’re lucky it was only a phone call.’

‘I know, I know.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m sorry. He’s...adventurous-’

‘ - he singed off his class mate’s eyebrows!’ The principle cut you off. ‘Given Monday’s biting incident, I see it fit that Jack take the rest of the week off.’

‘Right.’ You sighed. ‘Thank you. And sorry again.’

‘I’ll email you a list of...behavioural specialists.’ He muttered.

‘There’s nothing wrong with my kid. He’s just...curious.’ You insisted. ‘C’mon, buddy. Let’s go home.’

Jack sprung up from the chair, taking your hand in his and skipping out the door beside you. Parenting had been hard enough when you’d been married, and even harder now that his dad was out of the picture. It meant that everything fell on your shoulders; school runs, packed lunches, earning money, staying sane. You barely found the time to sleep, let alone go to soccer matches or take him to extra curricular activities. It meant that the stay-at-home mums - the ones who drove minivans and had specified walking shoes and shared memes about parenting on Facebook - muttered about you. 

I heard Jack’s mum couldn’t make it to the parent-teacher association meeting because there was a divorce hearing. 

Look at the kid’s lunch! Oh the saturated fat, the horror!

What do you MEAN your five year old isn’t vegan?!

Frankly, you wanted to whack them over the head with their own damn vision boards. So what if your kid was a little rough around the edges? He’d discovered fire today! If it had been in the stone ages, that would have been impressive. The kind of thing that would have earned him a McDonald’s, had the fast food chain been around at the dawn of time. With the way things were going, paired with the fact you knew your fridge was empty, it looked like you were heading for a Happy Meal anyway. 

‘So do I get all week off?’ Jack peered up at you, tugging on your arm.

‘Yup, all week.’ You sighed. ‘But it’s not a reward, okay? It’s...’

You stopped in your tracks when you saw Marcus Moreno’s car pull up in the lot. Naturally, it was expensive and electric and perfectly between the white lines. He gave your less-than-stellar parking a frown as he breezed by - not that you noticed. Frankly, you were too busy admiring him. You saw his face more on the news than you did in person, but he was beautiful. Talk, dark, handsome and mysterious, but also...friendly and approachable. He’d held the door open for you once two years ago and that had been it for you. There had been whispers about the fact he was a widow, though you’d tried not to pay attention to them. It wasn’t anyone’s damn business. You knew he was a good dad; you’d had the chance to meet Missy when Jack had got his head stuck between the playground fence and she’d helped pull him out. She was sweet and well-behaved and clearly well brought up. Could you say the same for your own kid? Eh, parenting was all trial and error. 

‘It’s what?’ Your son’s voice dragged you back to reality. ‘Am in trouble?’

‘What?!’ You jumped at the question. ‘No, I just...’

‘Because Principle Eikner said I’d done something bad.’

A small sigh escaped your mouth; placing his backpack on the ground, you knelt down to his height, gently placing your hands on his shoulder. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong, little man. We're just gonna take a few days out to talk about the rules and what it means to do the right thing, okay?’

‘Dad always said not to listen to the rules.’

‘Your dad said a lot of things.’ You reminded him. You stood back up, offering your hand to him. ‘Let’s go home.’

After a few minutes of bartering and the promise of a McDonald’s, you finally made your way back to the car, now with Jack attached to your back. If giving him a piggy back ride meant getting home quicker, it was a price you were willing to pay, especially since the other mums were starting to arrive to pick up their kids. The parking lot was slowly filling up with minivans - compared to your decade-old Honda Civic. It had seen better days, and one too many run ins with other cars and parking lot bollards. Still, it got the job done. 

‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you!’ You froze in your tracks again. This time, it wasn’t because of Marcus Moreno’s otherworldly presence, but rather due to the sound of the resident soccer mum. 

‘Carol.’ You turned around to face her (slowly, given the five year old on your back) with a forced smile on your face. ‘Hi.’

‘I take it you’re here for the parent-teacher’s association meeting?’ She gave you a phoney grin, handing you a leaflet. ‘I know you couldn’t make the last one, because of your...d-i-v-o-r-c-e hearings.’ 

‘I can spell!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘It’s okay, buddy.’ You reached up to ruffle his hair, smile not faltering. ‘But yeah, you’re right. And what about it?’

‘Nothing.’ Carol quickly shook her head. ‘So you are coming to this one? It starts in ten minutes.’

Truth be told, you’d no idea there was even a meeting tonight. You usually ignored the damn things until the news letter came out, and then you could read it from the comfort of your sofa with a glass of wine. There was nothing you stopping going tonight, aside from your intense hatred for them. 

‘I wanna get home and watch South Park!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘I don’t - I mean...I don’t let my five year old watch South Park.’ You said. ‘He walked in on me watching it one time and...point is, yes, I’m here for the meeting!’

‘No, you’re not-’

‘- Jack, just sssh!’ 

Carol blinked in surprise, but her phoney smile returned a moment later. ‘Excellent! I’ll see you inside.’

You inwardly groaned. Why had you just done that? You fucking despised sitting in a stuffy gym for the better part of an hour, listening to the perfect mums bang on about healthy eating and limiting their kids’ internet time. You already questioned your parenting skills as it was - the meetings only made it worst. You didn’t assimilate into that crowd; they were all married, with big houses out in the ‘burbs and bank accounts that could cover their kids ever-expanding interests and activities. Meanwhile, you were living on one wage and your two-bedroom apartment had a balcony, not a back garden. If Jack wanted to go on a field trip, you usually had to save up for months. You didn’t know if you envied the other mums’ lives, but you certainly weren’t jealous of how they viewed working mums and single parents. 

‘That lady is mean.’ Jack murmured from your shoulders.

‘Yeah buddy, I know.’ You nodded. ‘Guess we’re going back to school.’

--

Lugging the kid and his bag back up the school yard and towards the building was exhausting - at least it was your work out for the week done. By the time you’d reached the gym and placed Jack back on the ground, your shoulders were aching and you were disappointed to see that the refreshments didn’t have any alcohol. Was it too late to sneak out? The fire exit was right there and-

‘- shame this thing doesn’t have any wine, huh?’ A man was stood next to you, arms folded across his chest as he stared at the luke-warm jug of coffee on the table ahead. 

Tall, dark hair, stubble and with a faint hint of expensive aftershave you pretended not to notice? Hello, Marcus Moreno. Goodbye, ability to form coherent sentences.

You blinked in surprise. ‘Yeah. I could do with a glass. Or ten.’

‘So you hate these things too, huh?’ He smiled. 

‘With a passion.’ You returned the gesture. ‘I’m only here because Carol and her Karen Committee kept muttering about me not being at the last one.’

‘Yeah, same here. I was attending an emergency meeting about nuclear arms in Vienna, but I guess this is more important.’

‘I was...’ in court, signing documents to end my marriage, ‘otherwise occupied too.’

Marcus nodded in understanding. ‘Kids alone are a full time job, huh? ‘Specially when you’re the only one who’s running around after them.’

He knew about your situation and in return, figured that you knew about his. He’d heard the whispers about the divorce and presumed that the loss of his wife had been subject to similar gossip. The environment amongst the parents was shockingly similar to high school and things got around pretty quickly. You both hated it, especially given the nature of both your circumstances; death and separation was not something other people should have been talking about. Especially when you all you wanted to do was mind your own business and raise your damn (chaotic) kid.

‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ You replied. ‘My kid is like...a baby crackhead, as well. He’s been sent home twice this week and it’s only Wednesday.’

‘Oh, Jack’s your kid?’

You let out a groan, holding your face in your hands. ‘Yeah. Famously so, apparently.’

‘No, it’s not a bad thing!’ Marcus chuckled, pulling your hands away. ‘He played a brilliant baby Jesus in the Nativity last year.’

‘Aside from when he bit one of the three wise men, yeah.’ You could feel your cheeks heating up. ‘Missy actually helped him once. She seems really...not at all like my child. Which is good.’

‘She told me about the fence incident.’ He nodded. ‘May I ask why he was shoving his head out of the school gates?’

‘He saw an interesting looking slug.’ You replied.

Your conversation was interrupted by Carol, who had now climbed up on stage. She tapped the microphone and cleared her throat, gesturing to everyone to sit down so that the meeting could start. You wanted to curse her. Whatever giddy conversation you were having with Marcus was a thousand times more interesting than the PTA. At least you could revel in the fact he didn’t want to be here either.

‘Shall we?’ Marcus gestured to two empty seats a few rows back.

‘I mean, it’s an aisle seat, which is good for a quick escape if Jack decides to be Jack,’ you nodded in agreement. ‘Hey kid, c’mon!’

Turning away from the other kids, Jack sprinted towards you, hurling himself into your lap as he sat down. You let out an oof! and a groan. He wasn’t as light as he used to be a toddler. He stayed still for a moment, tiny hands clasping yours, before he realised who you were sat next to. The kids’ impression of Marcus was not quite the same as yours - he’d only seen him on TV, with the likes of all the heroes. You couldn’t remember their names (but in your defence, they were kind of ridiculous). 

‘Are you a superhero?’ He reached up, poking Marcus in the cheek. 

‘Jack!’ You hissed. ‘You can’t-’

‘- yeah, buddy.’ Marcus ruffled his hair. ‘But it’s my day off today, so I’m doing all this boring stuff instead.’

‘Can you fly? Do you know Miracle Guy? Have you fought aliens? Do you have a super suit? Do you know Iron Man? Wait! Can I be a superhero?!’

‘No, yes, yes, no, no and maybe when you’re older.’ He counted the questions off on his fingers. ‘But for now we have to keep quiet for the meeting. That would make you a superhero.’

--

You wanted to marry Marcus Moreno.

Seriously, you wanted to marry him.

His little comment had kept Jack quiet the entire meeting. And it was a long fucking meeting indeed. The last time he’d shut up for that long was...probably before he learnt to talk. You loved he was full of curiosity and questions, but he didn’t always understand that there was a time and a place. At least now you knew what would shut him up. 

‘How does Miracle Guy fly? Is Batman real? Are you rich? Do you know Wonder Woman? How does her lasso of truth work?’

‘Jack.’ You groaned. 

You were walking out of the school now and down towards the car park. Missy was in tow, tapping away on her phone, whilst Jack trotted alongside you and Marcus. He’d been spewing questions at the poor man pretty much since the meeting had ended - and yet, he seemed happy to answer them. Excited, even. It was clear that he loved his job.

‘You gotta give Mr Moreno a break, little man.’ You said.

‘Hey, just Marcus is fine.’ He replied. 

‘Hey Just Marcus, I’m dad.’ Missy chimed from beside you, not even looking up from her phone. It was...impressive, actually.

‘I already regret buying her that.’ Marcus murmured. 

The two of you eventually reached your cars. The Civic was still terribly parked across two spaces - you were a good driver, you’d just been in a rush. The dents and scrapes all over the doors and bumper implied other wise but hey, we move. You had a thousand and one other things to save up before a new car. Putting down the deposit on a house - one you could actually own, maybe a little further out from the city - was your number one concern. Paying off your divorce attorney came after that. 

‘It was nice to meet you properly.’ You pulled your keys out your back, tugging four empty packets of crisps and three bags of gummy worms with it. 

‘I’m not done asking questions-’

‘- you gotta let Marcus go, JJ.’ You peered down at Jack. ‘Sorry. He’s a little obsessed with the Heroics, but I guess you’ve worked that one out.’

‘Can I visit your base?’ He continued, ignoring you. 

Marcus knelt down to his height, a grin on his face. ‘I’ve got a free window tomorrow afternoon. You wanna come by? Your mum tells me you’re off school for the rest of the week.’ 

‘Really?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘I mean, I’m sure he would love that but I’m at work and he’s gotta go to my mum’s.’

Your mother also doubled up as your baby-sitter. In an ideal world, you would have been able to afford a professional, but this was very much the opposite of an ideal world. It was the real world, and you were constantly juggling a thousand things at once. Never in a million years would you have changed it but there were days when you wanted to cry. When it was 9PM and Jack suddenly chimed in that he had a science project due the next day, or when he refused to eat his dinner because his chicken nuggets weren’t shaped like dinosaurs and fed them to the dog. 

Marcus looked, on the surface at least, like he had his shit together. He worked in a public facing job and he always looked put together. His car wasn’t covered in bumps and bruises and the inside probably wasn’t covered in yoghurt like yours. He seemed as though he got more than five hours sleep a night and his child was well-behaved. 

‘I’m sure we can work something out.’ He said. ‘If you give me your number, I’ll give you a call.’

‘Uh, yeah! Of course.’ He’d asked for your number. No big deal. 

You switched phones - naturally, his was much more high-tech than yours - and entered in your respective numbers. The whole thing made you admire Marcus even more; he didn’t have to have your tyrannical son over to his office, yet he offered to. He’d clearly seen how excited he’d gotten and it seemed like he’d found it endearing. 

‘Are you okay?’ Marcus asked quietly, suddenly putting his hand on your shoulder. ‘You suddenly zoned out.’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You rubbed your eyes. ‘I got about three hours sleep last night. I would blame it on the terrible twos but I guess it’s the...fucking awful fives?’

He quickly turned his attention to Jack, opening the car door for him. ‘You wanna hop in? I’m just gonna talk to your mom about you visiting, yeah?’

'There’s Cheetos in the centre console!’ You called after him.

Once Marcus had shut the door, he turned around to face you. There was silence for a minute, and he just kind of...stared at you. You couldn’t read his expression or quite figure it out, but he had an eyebrow quirked and a look of...concern? Sympathy?

‘I recognise that look. It’s the help! I’m suddenly a single parent to a five year old and it feels like the world is eating me alive look.’ He said. ‘It’s the exact same one I had six years ago. Missy was about Jack’s age when...when it became just me and her.’

You softly smiled. ‘It’s not been easy.’

‘You’re doing a good job, okay?’ He gave your shoulder a light squeeze. ‘And if you ever need him off your hands for a few hours, I’ll gladly give him a tour of our headquarters.’

‘Thank you. So much, for both of those things.’ Your eyes fell to the ground. ‘It’s a refreshing change from Carol and her Pinterest boards and half-assed invitations to potlucks.’

‘God, I can’t stand all that.’ Marcus chuckled. 

‘I gotta get back now because I can see that Jack is about smush Cheetos over my break pedals but I’ll...’ you trailed off, forcing yourself to look at him and smile. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘I look forward to it.’ 

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Unfaithful | Part Three

Series Summary: After dreaming of your perfect wedding since you were a little girl the big day is almost here. But after meeting the priest you start to question your relationship.

Pairing: Hot Priest x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2828

Warnings: abusive behaviour, a lot of angsty stuff, drunken behaviour and a pinch of fluff

A/N: Please be warned there will be some themes of toxic/abusive relationship in this series. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Two | Masterlist

- - - - -

I sit alone on the bench outside the church, looking out at the empty graveyard in front of me. 

The miserable grey clouds above part and bright sunlight beams down to earth, shining on the Priest who is now walking up the path toward me. The light seems to be following him and as he moves closer I realise he’s dressed in a magnificent purple and gold gown. 

“Why are you wearing that?” I ask

“This is what I’m going to wear when I marry you” 

“Wow, I love it! Not sure Daniel will-”

“Who’s Daniel?” He asks and I laugh, but his serious face tells me he’s not joking.

“Daniel? My fiancé, the man I’m getting married to…”

“What are you talking about? You're marrying me remember?” He sits on the bench next to me, taking my hand and showing me the engagement ring on my finger, a ring I’ve never seen before.

“I- I don't understand. We’re engaged?”

“Are you feeling okay? Yes, we’re engaged and in a few weeks we’ll be husband and wife!” He holds my face gently in his hands and looks deeply into my eyes “I love you Y/N!”

He leans in and kisses me passionately.

— — — — 

My eyes shoot open and I realise I’m in bed. It was just a dream. Why do I feel slightly disappointed? 

Every night since that night at the church the Priest has been in my dreams, and every night the theme has been the same; the Priest and I are in love. 

I shake the thought out of my mind and roll over, reaching over to hug my real life fiancé but my arm falls straight down on the mattress. He isn’t there. 

I sit up and reach over to grab my phone off the bedside table. 9:30am! I must have needed that lie in. I roll out of bed, wrap my dressing gown around myself and head down stairs to the kitchen. I need coffee. 

Walking into the kitchen I find Daniel sat at the table waiting for me. 

“Morning!” I greet him cheerfully as I fill up the kettle “coffee?”

“No thanks.” He responds dismissively, changing the subject. “The other day, when I came home from the pub and you stormed out… where did you go?"

“I just went for a walk” I answer honestly

“Where?” 

“I don't know, I just wondered around for a bit and found a bench to sit on” 

“Alone?” 

“Yeah” I lie

“So you sat on a bench in the dark and drank all alone” He places an empty silver and green can on the table and looks at me accusingly, waiting for a response. 

“You went through my bag?” I silently curse myself for not throwing the can away yet.

“I was looking for something”

“What?”

“IT DOESN’T MATTER!” He slams his hand down on the can, crushing it against the table “You met him didn’t you? Father whatever his name is. I saw the same can of G&T in his office”

“Okay fine, yes I saw him. I didn’t plan to. I just went to the church to think. I thought it was empty but he was there and we talked for a bit”

“And drank”

“I was upset so he offered me a drink.”

“And then you lied to me about it” he says, getting up and slowly walking over to me.

“Because I knew you’d overreact!” I respond, poring the boiling water into my cup and stirring the coffee.

“Oh I’m overreacting am I? Tell me, how am I supposed to react when another man flirts with my fiancé in front of my face?”

“He hasn’t flirted with me Daniel, he’s our priest! He’s just trying to get to know us, but you won’t let him!” 

“I don’t want to get to know that creep!” 

“You know what? I can’t be bothered with this right now” I roll my eyes before saying three words I would instantly regret “You're being pathetic” 

I can almost see the red mist in Daniel’s eyes as he grabs my coffee cup and throws the boiling hot contents straight in my face. I suppress a scream as I wipe the coffee from my eyes, the liquid burning my skin. I run upstairs as fast as I can and lock myself in the bathroom, immediately  splashing cold water over myself. I soak a flannel in water and hold it over my face for a few minutes, trying to cool my burning skin. Daniel starts banging on the door, begging me to open up so he can apologise. When he starts to mention his dad I shut out the sound of his voice, choosing to ignore his excuses. I’ve heard them all before. 

When my skin finally starts to feel a little less on fire I remove the flannel and examine my blotchy red face in the mirror. A few small blisters have already started to form on my cheek and down the side of my neck. I bring my hand up to gently touch them, and hiss with pain as eyes instantly fill with tears. I cover my face with the flannel again and sit on the floor, leaning with my back against the door as Daniel continues to talk on the other side. I stay like that for however long it takes for him to finally leave me alone. Once I’m sure he’s gone I go silently to the bedroom, quickly get dressed and go downstairs. As I’m putting my shoes on Daniel comes running to me.

“Where are you going?” 

“To the hospital”

“No no, please- please don’t go. I’m sorry!” He panics.

“I need something to fix this” I argue, gesturing to the blisters and peeling skin.

“I can fix it!”

“Not this time” I walk out the house, slamming the door behind me. I hear it open again and I turn back to glare at Daniel as he’s about to step out. “Leave me alone!” I warn him before walking off, surprised that he actually obeys me for once. I hail a passing taxi and climb in the back. 

“A&E please” I say and he looks at me through the rear view mirror, his eyes widen as he sees the state I’m in but he doesn’t say anything. He just silently drives me where I need to go. 

— — — — 

“And how did this happen?” 

“I was carrying a cup of coffee when I slipped and fell, throwing the whole lot over myself.” I lie as convincingly as possible as the doctor examines my skin “I can be such a clutz sometimes”

I let out a small awkward laugh which the doctor ignores.

“Hm. Well you're lucky, there’s no permanent damage. It will be painful for a few days but it will heal. I’ll prescribe you some cream which will soothe it but in the mean time go home and take it easy. No more ‘accidents’ okay?” 

I can tell by her voice she doesn’t quite believe my story. 

“Thank you doctor” I say, taking the tube of cream off her and walking outside.

As I stand waiting for another taxi I realise, I’m not ready to face going home yet. There’s only one person I really want to see right now. 

— — — — 

Once again I find myself stood outside the big wooden doors of the church, suddenly doubting whether or not I should be here. I know I want to be here but I also know that if Daniel found out it would create yet another drama. I’m so trapped in my own moral dilemma that I don’t hear the footsteps approach behind me. 

“Y/N?”

I spin around to see the Priest walking toward me. His face goes from confusion, to horror as he sees my skin.

“Holy shit! What happened to your face?”

“I don't really wanna talk about it right now”

“Thats okay, you don't have to tell me anything” he smiles a gently smile and my heart flutters.

“I know it’s the middle of the day and you're my priest but… I don't suppose you have any more gin?”

“You’re in luck” his smile turns into a grin as he lifts up the bag in his hand and I hear the sound of cans clattering inside it.

— — — — 

A couple of hours and a few too many drinks later, the Priest and I are ever so slightly drunk and currently laughing about… well I don't actually know what. Everything just seems hilarious after a few cans of G&T. 

“You know, I think I’ve laughed more with you in the past week than I have in the past year with Daniel” I say, as he hands me another can “Maybe if you’d have been the Priest here when I was a teenager I wouldn’t have stopped coming. Teenage Y/N would have loved you. The old Priest just seemed so… judgy. I couldn’t think of anything worse than telling him my sins” 

“Hey that’s reminds me, you’ve never confessed to me! We should it now” 

“Oh no no no, absolutely not”

“Come on! It’ll be fun”

“Fun for you maybe, not for me! You just want to find out all my secrets”

“Of course I do, that’s why I do this job. That and so I can wear the outfits”

“You’re terrible” I laugh, shaking my head at him

“I know! That’s why you can tell me anything and I won’t judge you. I’ve probably done much worse” 

I get an idea. 

“Okay fine. I’ll confess to you. But you have to confess to me in return” 

“That’s not how this works”

“It is now! I’ll tell you my sins and you tell me yours”

“I’m a Priest, I don't sin”

“You're drunk in a church in the middle of the afternoon, pretty sure you're sinning right now”

“Good point” he thinks for a moment before getting up out his chair “okay, deal. Lets do this” 

I follow him out into the main church toward the confession box. He pulls open the curtain and gestures for me to enter. I do and he closes the curtain behind me before getting into the next box. I can just about see him through the holes in the wall. 

“You go first” I say quickly.

“Okay, um… I drink alcohol in my office on a regular basis”

“That’s a boring one!” I wine

“We’ll get to the good stuff eventually. Your turn”

“Fine. When I was 8 I stole a pencil topper from a bitchy girl in school because I liked it and I didn’t think she deserved it”

“A pencil topper? You criminal!” He laughs 

“It was shaped like Mickey Mouse!”

“How are you not in jail yet” he says sarcastically and I can hear the amusement in his voice “My turn. Sometimes when I hear Pam calling for me I hide in here and lie to her about where I am”

“I don't blame you, that woman scares me” 

“Right?! She’s terrifying!” 

We both burst into laughter, and as it dies down I realise it’s my turn again. I take a deep breath and speak again. 

“I lied to my Daniel about being with you the other night because I knew he’d get angry.” 

Without thinking my hand comes up to gently touch the burns on my face as my mind takes me back to the incident this morning. I snap out of it and turn to look at the wall. For a brief second I catch the Priest looking through the hole at me, but he turns to face the front. 

“I broke my vow of celibacy last year”

“I’ve been having inappropriate dreams about another man while laying in the same bed as my fiancé” 

“I’m in love with you” 

“What?” I say, trying to see him through the holes in the wall but he doesn’t look at me. He just stares down at the floor.

“I’m-” he pauses “I love you”

He finally looks up at me, the sudden eye contact almost takes my breath away. I don't know what to say, I’m completely lost for words. The intensity of his dark brown eyes is too much and I’m forced to look away, looking down as I fiddle nervously with the sleeves of my shirt. 

“Y/N?” 

I quickly get up and walk out of the booth, but he stays put. I stand for a moment looking at the curtain, wondering if he’s going to come out. When he doesn’t I realise its up to me to make a choice. 

I could tell the Priest how I feel about him. I could admit that I’ve imagined what it would be like to kiss him, to hold him, to wake up next to him.

Or I could leave right now and pretend none of this happened, go back home to Daniel. The man I’m engaged to marry. The man who I’ve loved since school. The man who, just this morning, threw boiling hot coffee in my face. 

I make a decision. 

I open the curtain to see the priest still sat on the tiny bench, and he looks up at me with wide eyes. He watches as I squeeze into the booth with him, placing my hands on either side of his face. He stands up slowly so our faces are inches apart and slowly moves in. 

“I love you too”

He looks into my eyes one last time before I close the gap, our lips crashing together. I keep expecting to wake up any second now, for this to just be another cruel emotionally confusing dream. 

But this is real. 

I’m kissing a priest. 

Part Four

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_domestic_violence_hotlines

#fleabag #hot priest #fleabag hot priest #fleabag priest #Andrew scott #Andrew Scott priest #hot priest x reader #hot priest imagine #Andrew Scott x reader #Andrew scott imagine #Andrew Scott fanfic #fleabag fanfic #hot priest fanfic #phoebe waller bridge

[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

Every Drop of Grace

Endverse destiel

Rating: on the border between M and E (I’m over cautious, probably most people would say M)

About 3k

“Do you ever wish we could have something...normal?” Dean’s voice falls into the quiet night, a stone falling into a once-still pond.

Cas can’t hold back his snort. “Dean. You grew up hunting monsters. I’m a fallen angel. There was never going to be anything ‘normal’ about either of us.” Dean huffs in response, burying his face deeper into the hollow of Cas’s neck. “It also doesn’t help that our relationship–if that’s what you want to call it–began after the end of the world.”

“The world didn’t end,” Dean protests weakly. “It’s still here. It’s just…”

“Right,” Cas says, giving in to the urge to roll his eyes–it helps that Dean is behind him and can’t actually see his eyes. “The world is still here. We even have this tiny bit that’s almost safe.”

Dean doesn’t argue, though Cas can feel how much he wants to. Cas idly wonders if Dean ever argued a monster to death, but he doesn’t voice the thought. He doesn’t want Dean to leave. He smirks into the darkness, though. He can absolutely imagine a cocky, 13 year old version of Dean facing down a werewolf. “You’re doing it wrong!” shouts the smaller, higher-voiced Dean. “You need to lull me into complacency, then strike. No wonder you’ve been caught by a kid.

Cas chuckles softly at the made up–but completely plausible–memory. At Dean’s questioning hum, Cas skips his imaginings and brings the conversation back to where they started. “Considering the chaos all around us, I’d say what we have is amazing, Dean.” Having you at all is amazing, he does not say.

Dean smiles against Cas’s skin.

There is much Cas misses about being an angel–healing, flying, super-strength, not being so damned fragile–but on the opposite side, there are so many things that make the Fall worthwhile. He’d touched Dean when he was still an angel, and it had been nice enough. Better than nice even; there’d been something special about touching Dean from the first time he’d held the hunter’s broken soul in hell. But in this his human senses are far superior. The touch of Dean’s lips on the soft skin between Cas’s shoulder blades makes his heart race, his breathing quicken. Dean laughs, not more than a soft breath, and Cas’s stomach flips at the heat across his skin. He’s getting hard, just from a few small sensations.

Yes, the Fall was worthwhile. Even if they’re doomed, he wouldn’t trade this for all the Grace ever created.

Dean goes on, most likely unaware of Cas’s growing arousal. Cas focuses on Dean’s voice and on keeping his own breathing as even as possible, and soon he’s nearly as lost in Dean’s memories as Dean himself.

“I always tried to find fun stuff for Sammy, growing up.” Dean’s voice catches a little on his brother’s name, but he pushes through. “Most of the things I did pissed Dad off, but I didn’t let him stop me. The kid had to have something good in his horror of a childhood. Little things: a bag of marshmallows to roast over a campfire, a Monopoly game we could play in motel rooms, a baseball cap I knew he wanted. I found a pair of roller skates in his size once; I think he was about eleven. Man, that was a mess. Dumb kid took off like he knew just what he was doing and two yards later fell flat on his face. Dad put four stitches over his left eye and lectured him the whole time about what if that rock hit your eye instead of your forehead, blah blah blah. Sammy took it like a champ, didn’t flinch once, and as soon as Dad was gone Sammy put the skates right back on and took off again. And that time he didn’t fall. Well, he did, but not right away, and not so he needed stitches.”

Cas can tell Dean is working up to something, even if it all just seems like rambling. Dean is a roadmap, and sometimes Cas can follow. “A few months before I turned 16 I stole Dad’s car for a couple hours and took Sammy to a drive-in. You ever…?” Dean answers his own question before Cas has the chance to even shake his head. “Nah, you weren’t much of a movie-goer back in your halo days. At a drive-in you sit in your car to watch a movie–outside, at night. You park by a little speaker that pipes the sound right to you, and the screen is gigantic, big as...well, I don’t even know, it’s been too long, but trust me, it’s big. You look out the front of the car and all you see is the movie. You’ve got the sound filling up the car and the movie filling up your eyes and it’s like you and whoever you’re sitting with are in your own little world, whatever make-believe world the actors and all the rest made for you to live in. For a few hours, anyway.”

Dean’s voice is rough, almost raw. “That’s what we have, Cas. A few hours in a bubble full of make-believe, until the bubble pops and it’s the end of the world again.”

Cas wants to scream, to deny every word, to tell Dean it isn’t make-believe, it isn’t, and he wants to spend every minute from now until they fall to dust proving it, but instead he hears his traitorous mouth whisper, “I know.”

“It’s okay,” Dean says, and Cas isn’t sure which of them Dean is trying to comfort. “It’s okay. The pretending, the bubble–it’s enough.”

It isn’t. Cas wants it all, wants every bit of Dean. His smiles and his glares, his laughs and his curses, his happy chatter and his incoherent tears. He wants to be fucked into the mattress and then hold Dean in his arms until the sun comes up, to have Dean stay all night instead of slinking away in the darkness.

It isn’t enough. The coffee’s been gone for awhile, but he wants to make Dean tea in the mornings, good strong tea to bring a little of the sparkle back to his green eyes. He wants to go with him on foraging runs, venturing out of their little corner of the world to find supplies to last them just a little bit longer. He wants to have Dean’s back, to protect him, to keep him safe. He doesn’t have his mojo anymore, but he still has his blade, and he’s had millenia of practice to hone his skills.

Cas doesn’t want only darkness, grasping and clutching at each other when the rest of the world sleeps. He wants to give Dean every kind of pleasure, and maybe a little bit of peace. As a fallen angel, Cas doesn’t think he gets to go to heaven, but he doesn’t mind. He has here, he has now.

So this little bubble of half-truths and fairy tales…

It’s not enough.

Cas’s eyes begin to sting. “Fuck.” The word is mostly air, barely a sound at all, but of course Dean hears. Because Dean can see through Cas’s pretences too. That’s how these things work.

“Cas?”

“It’s nothing,” Cas says, but Dean sees through that too, maneuvering them both so they’re face to face on the narrow bed. Cas closes his eyes, willing the tears to stop before they can properly begin. He hates to cry, hates to have his feelings fly so far out of his control that they stream down his face in the form of wet, salty tears.

“It’s nothing,” he says again, when he trusts that his voice won’t give him away. Then, grasping at the first thought that passes through his head, he says, “I just don’t like when the bubble pops.”

The lines around Dean’s eyes soften. He presses a kiss to Cas’s forehead and says, “We’ve still got a few hours. I’m not going anywhere.” His yet is unspoken but Cas hears it anyway.

Dean’s got one hand holding the side of Cas’s face, fingers threaded into his hair, the other resting lightly on his hip. Their legs are tangled together, and when Dean moves in to kiss Cas again their hips move together and Cas can’t take it anymore. There is so much skin, it feels like skin for miles, but also like he can feel every individual cell, every molecule of Dean’s breath, every miniscule drop of sweat…

“Dean,” Cas groans, because it’s too much, his brain is going to overload. It doesn’t matter that they had sex not long ago–Cas needs more, needs to be closer. “Dean.” It’s almost a prayer. “Please.”

And Dean is there, even before he calls, pushing him onto his back. Dean kisses Cas, hungry, and Cas is happy–eager–to be devoured. He’s got his arms wrapped around Dean, clawing at his back, trying to pull them closer together. There’s a part of his brain screaming that Dean thinks this is all pretend, so maybe if Cas can get them close enough together, if he can somehow press the truth into Dean’s skin, then maybe Dean will understand.

But then Dean thrusts his cock (hard, so hard, and all for him) against Cas’s, and he stops thinking and just feels.

Cas throws his head back and Dean nips at his throat; Cas hisses and claws at Dean’s back again. There’s a growl coming from deep in Dean’s chest, but Cas can feel the smile against his skin. They both like the small shocks of pain–reminders of life.

Holding himself up on one forearm, Dean reaches between them, wrapping his strong, calloused fingers around both their cocks. A moan escapes Cas’s lips, and Dean chuckles softly. “Do you remember the first time we did this?” He’s looking deep into Cas’s eyes, and not for the first time Cas suspects he sees a bit of faerie in the emerald depths; enchanting, beautiful, tricksome, and dangerous. He knows there’s nothing to the thought; he knit Dean back together molecule by molecule, saw every strand of his DNA.

Dean twists his hand in a particularly skillful way and Cas is pulled back to the present. Their first time. Yes, Cas remembers. How could he forget?

“Summer sun,” Cas manages, in between gasping breaths. “Your freckles…”

“My freckles?” Dean laughs. “That’s what you remember?”

“I might be only human now, Dean Winchester, but I remember–” He gasps as Dean’s palm brushes against a particularly sensitive spot– “I remember every second of that afternoon with perfect–” Another shuddering gasp– “Perfect clarity.��

Dean’s hand stutters to a stop, and when Cas sees the look in Dean’s eyes something in his stomach twists. Don’t be too real don’t be too real shouts a voice inside his head, clearly battling with the part of him that wants Dean to know everything.

I’m a mess, he thinks.

To Dean he says in a low, broken voice, “I was leaning against the trunk of a tree, looking up at the sun shining through the leaves. It occurred to me that I’d never spent any time looking at trees, or leaves, or much of anything at all while I was an angel. I did what I was told. Didn’t even take time to look around and enjoy the view.”

Dean’s hand starts to move again. For a moment Cas’s eyelids flutter closed, his eyes rolling upwards in pure pleasure, but then he continues, concentrating on speaking slowly and carefully and without breaking. He almost succeeds.

“I hadn’t been human long. A month? Five weeks? Not long enough to get used to human senses. So when you walked up and the sun shone down on your face, your freckles standing out against your pale skin… And then you put your hand–” The memory of Dean’s hand reaching out is too much and he has to stop to breathe, to gain control, because he doesn’t want to come yet. The story isn’t over. “You put your hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Hey Cas.’”

That had been it. Just a touch, some freckles, and his name on Dean’s lips.

“There was something in your eyes,” Dean says, taking over the narrative. “I hadn’t meant to kiss you. But you looked...kissable. Blue eyes wide and…” He gives his head a quick shake. “I don’t know what it was. But as soon as our lips touched I knew it was the right thing to do. Knew I shouldn’t have waited so long to do it.” At this Cas raises his head up just enough to slot their lips together. It’s an electric current, sharp and warm, just like it always is.

It’s home.

“And then you pushed me up against my cabin wall.”

They’re both breathing heavy now, each of them close to their release but trying to hold on.

“It was the closest wall I could find,” Dean says, a little defensive, a little embarrassed. “And it was a little more hidden than the tree we started out against.”

If Cas had the breath to spare he’d laugh. He lets out a puff of air instead, and Dean’s eyes light up in response. “Yeah,” Cas says, teasing. “Sun shining down on us, completely visible from three sides, only blocked by the cabin. Couldn’t be bothered to–”

Dean stops him with a kiss. Cas doesn’t mind. Cas’s mind is full of lips and skin and hands and sparks and pleasure that is building and building and threatening to heave him overboard–

Cas is on the edge, barely hanging on, when Dean stops.

The stillness is both total and false. Neither of them moves, almost as if they are frozen in time, and there is no breath of wind coming through the open window, no branches scratching at the roof. But there are two hearts pounding, two men gasping for breath, and the whispers of a thousand words not being said.

Cas refuses to be the first one to speak. He knows if he opens his mouth, he’ll never stop.

It feels like an eternity has passed–though it’s probably only been ten or fifteen seconds, Cas’s sense of time has been skewed since his Fall–when Dean breaks the silence.

“What do you want, Cas?”

“Everything.”

Cas tells the truth, the real truth, before he can think, and for a moment he wishes he could somehow call the word back, erase it from history, go back to their bubble of make-believe. Dean would probably let him brush it off. He could call it sex induced lunacy. It’s probably even true.

But no. No. He’s fucking tired of pretend, of half-truths, of bedtime stories. This isn’t enough. He means it, he wants everything.

Dean is looking into his eyes, searching for something. Cas can’t read his expression, he’s guarding his thoughts too closely.

It hurts, having Dean hide from him. They’re naked and in each other’s arms, and Dean’s…

Well, really they’re both hiding. They’ve been hiding from the beginning.

Shit.

There’s a burning behind Cas’s eyes again, but this time he can’t blink the tears away. When the first tear rolls down Cas’s face Dean pulls back, a fraction of an inch, in surprise. His thumb wipes away the tear.

“Cas?”

“It’s not enough,” Cas says. “I can’t do this anymore, Dean. I meant what I said, I want everything. All of it. I want to spend the night with you and wake up with you in the morning. I want to kiss you in the daytime, with the sun on your freckles. Are you ashamed of me? The camp screwup, the broken angel? Because people talk, Dean. Everyone knows you come here, and they know what we do, and they don’t care. The world is falling apart. There are bigger things to worry about. There are bigger things for us, too, but right now all that matters is I can’t hide anymore. I love you, Dean. I think...no. I know I always have. And I don’t want to waste another second hiding in the dark.”

And Dean just looks at him. Once upon a time Cas put Dean together, molecule by molecule. Saw every bit of him. That’s how Cas feels now. Examined. Seen.

Known.

It should be horrifying, but it’s Dean, so Cas just looks back, waiting. He doesn’t even wipe away the tears that keep falling despite his best efforts to blink the damned things back.

The silence goes on so long Cas is sure Dean is going to get up and walk away. It’s okay, he tells himself. I want more, I want everything, but to love...that will never end. It will hurt, but I’ll still love him. No matter–

And then Dean is kissing him. It’s not heated, or frantic; it’s a soft, gentle kiss and makes Cas feel wrapped in love. They both smile, their foreheads pressed together. “Wish you’d said something sooner, Cas.”

“Didn’t want to push you away.”

Dean pulls back a little. “That’s...well, yeah, that’s…”

Smile widening, Cas says, “We’ll work it out.”

In what Cas supposes is an answer, Dean kisses him. A bit more playful this time, he even bites at Cas’s lower lip. Cas can’t hold back his moan. The feel of teeth rasping against his skin…it’s almost too much.

And then Dean’s hand starts moving again, tugging and twisting at their dicks. Cas is almost startled, he’d been so caught up in his confession of– but now isn’t the time, he’s groaning into Dean’s mouth and he thinks there might be words but his brain isn’t quite connected to the rest of his body at the moment. All he knows is good and Dean and so much love and skin and when Dean murmurs Cas’s name it’s too much for him and he spills his seed between them. Dean chases after, a punched out sound falling from his lips.

They lie together, still, their come sticky and drying between them. Somewhere far off in the camp a door clatters shut.

“I wish–” Dean starts.

“I know,” Cas interrupts. But it’s not the time to dwell on what might have been.

Dean shifts them into a more comfortable position. “Okay.”

“We should–”

“No.” This time it’s Dean interrupting. “Not yet. We can clean up in a few minutes. Right now I just want to hold you.”

Tucking his face against Dean’s chest, Cas murmurs, “I can’t say no to that.”

Dean somehow pulls Cas closer, and Cas’s skin sings. Worth every feather, he thinks. Every drop of Grace.

**

For @bend-me-shape-me ‘s Dean/Cas summer prompts!

Week 2 (drive-in cinema) and week 3 (I can still recall our last summer)

I hit week 3 kinda sideways…but it works!

#lirael writes #deancassummerprompts21 #endverse destiel #love confessions #angst with a happy ending #this makes me happy

[pregnant-piggy]

Summer Games - three

Blaise Zabini x reader

masterlist

warnings: no pronouns used for the reader, 

A/N: I had so much fun writing this part and coming up with all the stupid things! I really hope you like it :)

written for @omgrachwrites​​​ writing challenge with the prompts: ‘I can’t have this argument with you again.’ ‘But—’ ‘No, I’m done.’ and ‘Sorry… your hair was in your face… thought  I should move it so I could see you better.’

word count: 3.9k

The next morning Blaise awoke before Draco and rather than waking his friend too, Blaise got dressed in silence and slipped out of the room. He walked down to the kitchen, where he found you sitting at the table with a mug in your hands, reading the morning papers.

‘Might rain this afternoon,’ you said without looking up.

Blaise hummed something as he sat down opposite of you and poured himself a cup of coffee. He looked up and studied your face as you read the newspaper. Your eyes scanned the pages quickly, picking out the things worth reading. Blaise watched you for a few minutes until you had finished and looked up at him.

‘What you’re doing?’ he asked when you kept looking at him.

‘Looking at you,’ you smiled.

Blaise chuckled nervously. ‘I noticed that, yeah. But why?’

‘I’m probably not gonna see you all day,’ you shrugged. ‘Don’t wanna forget that pretty face of yours.’

Blaise straightened his back and blinked. ‘Don’t wanna—’

‘Good morning, lovelies!’ Pansy interrupted as she threw open the door of the kitchen and strode in.

Blaise was still turned to you and watched as you hugged Pansy shortly before she sat down next to you. She poured herself some coffee and looked at Blaise.

‘Blaise, stop staring, that’s rude,’ Pansy said and she waved her hand in front of Blaise’s face.

He quickly looked away from you and shot Pansy a nasty look before he turned to his coffee.

‘Pansy don’t bug him,’ you scolded and shot Blaise a kind smile. ‘It’s only morning.’

‘Fine, fine,’ Pansy said and she waved your words away with her hand. ‘I won’t bug him until later this day.’ She took a sip from her coffee and pulled a face before quickly scooping two spoons of sugar in her cup. ‘Where’s Draco?’

‘Still asleep,’ Blaise muttered. ‘I considered hexing him awake, but I still have to sleep here for two nights and Draco with a grudge is not someone you want to sleep next to.’

‘I am not that bad,’ a grumpy voice at the doorframe said. Draco walked into the room and flopped down on the chair next to Blaise. ‘Coffee, please.’

‘Sure, you’re not that bad,’ you snickered as you poured coffee in Draco’s mug.

While Draco drank his coffee, you told your friends what Game today would be. ‘It’s the last day before the winner gets announced. Yesterday while we were at the lake the other half of the teams played games in the fields. Before we set off today we’ll get the ranking so far, so you know what team to beat.’

‘But what are we doing today?’ Pansy asked.

A big smile spread on your face. ‘It’s the best Game of the whole festival. The organisation has put out a big scavenger hunt. It goes through the whole village and we have to solve riddles and collect things. You’ll get a list with things to collect and usually the team splits up in little groups and each group gets a part of the list.’

‘What sort of things do we have to collect? Because I’m really not interested in breaking my back from carrying a lot,’ Draco said.

‘I don’t know,’ you replied. ‘Usually there’s a theme to the hunt. My grandma helps to put it together and previous years she’d tell me what the theme was but she hasn’t this year.’

‘So we’ll just go around town collecting things? Isn’t that boring?’

Your smile faltered a bit and Blaise kicked Draco under the table. ‘Don’t listen to him, he’s a jerk in the morning. It sounds fun!’

You smiled thankfully at Blaise and after Pansy also reassured you that it sounded great, your smile was back on your face, and it stayed there for the rest of the morning.

/\/\/\

The scavenger hunt had officially started. A little earlier the scores of the teams had been disclosed; the Sly Foxes were on top with only two points difference between them and the Red Titans. Next were the Oiled Machines and at the bottom the Raging Angels. But just by a few points so all could change with the scavenger hunt.

The organisation had handed out the lists with the things to collect and the theme had quickly been clear.

Book of Spells … 7 pts

Iron Cauldron … 15 pts

Vial with Sleeping Potion … 12 pts

Witch Hat … 5 pts

Unnecessarily the woman of the organisation had added that the theme of this year’s hunt was ‘magic’ and both Blaise and Draco had had to refrain their laughter at the stereotypical items they had to collect. There was a whole list on ingredients for potions that no real wizard would ever think of using, such as goat milk and rabbit turds. Apparently Muggles still thought of witches as old, weary women in little shacks in the woods.

Blaise and Draco had been teamed up with three other Foxes. Neither of them knew any of the three, but after his little spat with Alysia two days ago, Blaise was more than happy that he wasn’t in her team.

The oldest of their team was Ivanna, a woman of thirty-four with a pale face and sleek brown hair. Despite the heat she was wearing long trousers and a jacket over her shirt. She’d told the rest of the team that she had a little baby of just two months old, so that if she seemed tired it meant she probably was.

The second of the three was the twenty-three year old student Mica. They had a dark golden skin and black, curly hair that had been cut short and dyed blue in the ends. Under the blue bangs lay two dark eyes that glittered with excitement and competitiveness. Mica was a student in London, but they had come back to the town where they’d grown up for the Summer Games.

The last teammate was the very young Raoul. He was the son of the man Draco and Blaise had met the first day of the festival at the stand with the cherry pastries, Hank. Raoul was just eleven years old, but he brought a childlike enthusiasm with him that made everyone in the team energized.

They were by far the youngest team, as all the other teams had the more aged villagers, so they called themselves the Sly Pups. Quickly they set to work and looked at the items on their list.

‘Does this make any sense to you?’ Ivanna asked as she handed the list to Blaise and Draco.

Errn rq srwlrqv … 7 pts

Eurrpvwlfh … 17 pts

Fordn … 9 pts

Fdqgohv .. 10 pts

‘I don’t get it,’ Draco said to the rest of the team and then he whispered to Blaise: ‘You didn’t take Ancient Runes, did you?’

‘No, I didn’t,’ Blaise answered and he looked at the sheet in his hand. ‘But I doubt these are runes.’

Blaise looked around at the rest of the Sly Foxes but they didn’t seem to have the same problems, as they were already heading off. Then he looked at the other teams on the field and realised that from each team one group would stay bent over their list while the others took off. In one of the remaining teams Blaise recognised you and Pansy.

‘You don’t think it’s a mistake, do you?’ Ivanna asked with frowned eyebrows.

‘No, the other teams have it too,’ Blaise said and he nodded to the three groups left behind around them.

‘Wait, this one we can read!’ Mica said and pointed out the first line on the paper. ‘”To understand the magic you must always think three steps ahead.” What does that mean?’

The whole team silenced as they thought about the possible meaning of the sentence. Raoul looked around on the ground as if he would find the answer literally three steps ahead of him. For minutes it was quiet and Blaise’s annoyance grew.

To make his irritation even worse two of the other teams around them, including your team, had found the solution to the weird texts and were now running off the field. Blaise let out an exasperated sigh and he shook his head.

‘It can’t be this hard,’ Draco said.

‘It’s some sort of secret language, but I don’t understand the three steps,’ Mica admitted and they rubbed their temples with their knuckles.

‘My dad taught me a secret language once,’ Raoul said. ‘So we could write each other without my other dad finding out. We changed each letter with the one next in the alphabet.’

‘Of course!’ Mica exclaimed and they took the paper from Blaise. ‘Does someone have a pen?’

Ivanna gave Mica a pen and they turned Draco around to use his back. ‘What are you doing?’ Draco snapped but Mica ignored him as they started to write the alphabet on the top of the paper.

‘Look, it’s actually really easy,’ they said. ‘Each letter is swapped for a letter three steps ahead in the alphabet! Just like Raoul said!’

‘So that would mean that the e in the first word is actually a…’

‘A b!’ Mica completed Blaise’s sentence. ‘So the first word is… book… on… pot—potions! We have to find a potions book!’

‘I’ve got one of those in my bag,’ Draco muttered, but Blaise kicked him softly on his leg.

‘We have to go the library!’ Raoul said and he ran off.

‘Raoul! Wait a minute! Not so fast!’ Ivanna yelled after him and the group quickly followed the little boy.

/\/\/\

Your team had quickly figured out the solution to the weird text and found a potions book in the library, accompanied by a little paper with the next clue. Now you were sitting on the wall around the garden of the library with your team.

On your right sat Pansy and on your left Quincy. Quincy was your grandparents’ neighbour and you knew him very well so you were glad he was on your team. He was fifty-five and he had studied philosophy at the university in the nearest big city when he was younger. You hoped his intelligence would be applicable in the hunt, and so far it had for he had figured out the secret language.

Opposite of you stood Chantelle, the forty-two year old town’s librarian. Despite her being in her early forties she looked much older. She had a wrinkled face and neck and always stared at you with big eyes from behind her thick glasses. Her appearance was deceiving however, because her mentality was as quick as that of a young adult.

The last in your team was a teenage boy only a year older than you and Pansy. His name was Christopher and you had known him since you were a small child and you went to your grandparents in the summer. He had dark curls framing his olive face that was always painted with a bright smile. This time there was something other in his smile too and it only made sense to you after he told you that his boyfriend was in the other team and he desperately wanted to beat him.

‘y/n too,’ Pansy had said and Christopher had raised his eyebrow.

‘Really?’

‘No! Blaise is not my boyfriend!’ you’d cried to which Pansy had laughed.

‘Who said anything about Blaise? I merely said ‘boyfriend’.’

Now you were all looking at the new paper in your hand. The next item on the list was an eurrpvwlfh; a broomstick. Though finding out what the next item was had been easy, the real problem was finding the place where. The text on the paper you had gotten from the person in the library didn’t exactly help you very much.

Where I am is always a mystery.

Over mountains I fly,

Or I cross above the trees.

Down on the ground I rest,

Still and motionless I stand.

Pansy sighed and she threw her head back, closing her eyes as she thought about the riddle. Next to you, Quincy was staring at the text as if that would make him any wiser. Every once in a while he would hum but he didn’t come with an answer.

‘We’re gonna lose our lead like this,’ Christopher sighed as he looked around the street for other teams.

‘Surely we’re not seeing something,’ Pansy said and she tilted her head to the side, looking at the paper from a different angle. ‘No offense, but the organisation isn’t exactly a group of highly intelligent people, so maybe we have to think easier.’

Christopher chuckled and you faked a scowl at Pansy. ‘That’s my grandmother you’re talking about!’ you cried and Pansy just shrugged. ‘But you’re right. I am sure there is something clear that we’re overlooking.’

Chantelle cleared her throat and pointed at the text. ‘Maybe we should take a literal approach. You know, look at the text rather than the meaning?’

‘Here,’ you said and gave Chantelle the paper, allowing her to put her full focus on it.

Down the street you noticed a group of people approaching the library. Running ahead of the others was a young boy you recognised as Raoul. He had a big smile on his face and was waving the list with things to collect through the air. In the group behind him Blaise and Draco were walking together, followed by Mica and Ivanna. They noticed your team and Blaise and Draco waved.

‘Not to put pressure on you, but I really hope you can figure it out now because if we don’t win from Blaise and Draco I will be hearing that for the rest of my life,’ you sighed and Pansy nodded.

Chantelle looked up from the paper and winked at you. ‘I got it.’

Your team cheered and Blaise’s team, that was just about to enter the library, looked around. Upon seeing your team so happy, their faces turned sad.

‘See you tonight, boys!’ Pansy shouted. ‘Losers have to do the dishes!’

/\/\/\

Blaise and his team stepped out of the woods with the broomstick in their hand. The broom was old and twitchy and Blaise had to stifle a laugh thinking of how different the real broomsticks were in the wizarding world.

Again it had been Mica who had guessed the answer of the riddle. Blaise wondered where the team would be if they hadn’t been here. Probably still working on the first puzzle. But Mica had figured out that the first letters of the sentences in the little poem formed the word woods, the place where they had found the broomstick.

Now they only had the next word, fordn, meaning cloak, and a silver pin. It was not much to go on but Ivanna had recognised the pin straight away.

‘It comes from Mrs. Heath’s studio!’ she exclaimed and looked at the little pin in her fingers. ‘It’s what she uses for her dresses!’

Unfortunately Mrs. Heath’s studio lay on the other side of the village and it would take at least forty minutes before they’d get there.

‘Forty minutes?!’ Draco cried and when the team set off he turned to Blaise. ‘Stupid Muggles, why can’t we just apparate?’

‘Oh shut it, Malfoy,’ Blaise said. ‘It’s fun!’

‘I’m gonna curse y/n for making us do this…’

Grudging Draco followed the rest of his team and though Blaise would never say it to his friend, he had to admit that his feet were beginning to hurt.

The Sly Pups passed little houses with colourful front yards, full of flowers and bushes. The main street was silent and all the shops were closed, as most of the inhabitants were participating in the Games and there was no need for the stores to be open. They ran into a few other teams, but none of those had the same list as they had.

After forty-five minutes they arrived at the old house of Mrs. Heath. In the garden there was a little path, past pink flowerbeds and a small pond with fish. Halfway in the garden the path split in two. One side led to the bright yellow front door, the other led to a wooden door with a sign on it that said the Heath atelier.

Ivanna stepped through the garden and knocked on the yellow door. A minute it was silent and then an old lady opened the door. She was wearing an orange with blue flowers dress that reached to the ground and her grey hair hung in a braid over her shoulder. Her lips spread into a smile when she saw the five people at her door.

‘You’re the first ones!’ Mrs. Heath smiled and she stepped out of the door. ‘Come, come, follow me!’

Blaise sent Draco a questioning look as they followed Mrs. Heath to her studio. Your team had been far ahead of Pups, having figured out where to find the broomstick before Blaise’s team even had the riddle. In the forest there had been two brooms already collected, but apparently the Sly Pups were the only ones who had found where the silver pin came from.

Inside the Heath atelier stood four mannequins with colourful robes. Each had a different colour and pattern. There was a dark blue one with yellow stars, a green one covered with red flowers and one coloured yellow with orange and red flames. Blaise snickered at the cloaks; the only one he had even seen wearing such colours was Dumbledore and he couldn’t exactly be called a normal wizard.

‘You take this one,’ Mrs. Heath said and she pulled a bright pink cloak with yellow and green crescents embroidered in it from a mannequin. ‘And also—’ she opened a drawer and pulled out a thin object in the shape of a circle ‘—this one. Good luck!’

Ivanna took the object and the cloak and ushered the team outside. In the garden she handed over the cloak to Draco, who took it with a frown, and looked at what Mrs. Heath had given her.

‘It’s a coaster,’ Mica said, raising one eyebrow. ‘Why would she give us a coaster?’

Before anyone of the team could guess, however, another group arrived at the house. You and Pansy were walking ahead, both with tired and sweaty faces, and the rest of your team seemed just as exhausted.

Blaise waved at you and you gave him a weak smile back as you walked with your team inside.

‘Does anyone recognise this?’ Mica asked and they looked around the team.

Everyone shook their head and they sighed as one. Ivanna brought the coaster closer to her face and examined it. She dropped her shoulders and shook her head again. ‘I don’t know what it is.’

‘It probably has something to do with the next item,’ Mica said and they pulled out the list. ‘Candles. Is there a place here that sells candles or anything?’

‘But what has that got to do with the coaster?’ Blaise asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Mica admitted.

Your team came out of the studio with the green cloak and Pansy had a coaster in her hand. You huddled a little away from Blaise and your team formed a protective circle around the object in Pansy’s hand.

Blaise was standing with his back to your team, but he could hear the whispers. While his team tried to think of a solution for the weird puzzle, Blaise tried to listen to what your teammates had to say. And it seemed like your team had sorted it out as quickly as Ivanna had sorted out the solution of the pin.

‘I know where this is from,’ Quincy said. ‘At Mikey’s they use these coasters.’

‘And that would make sense, because in a restaurant they surely have candles!’ Chantelle added and the rest of your team mumbled approvingly.

Blaise looked around and saw your team leaving the garden and heading for the main street. You caught his stare and smiled enthusiastic at Blaise, making him weak in the knees with the innocent laugh on your face. Butterflies were fluttering through his stomach and he felt bad for eavesdropping on your team.

‘Blaise?’

‘Yeah?’ Blaise tore his gaze from you and turned to his team, finding them all looking at him.

Mica laughed and shook their head. ‘Ivanna said that she knows someone who makes candles,’ they said. ‘I know we haven’t got much time left, but it’s worth a try.’

The scavenger hunt would only last till four, then everyone had to return to the fields, whether they had found all the objects or not. Now there were only thirty minutes left, so they had to hurry.

Blaise looked at his team and thought of what he had heard a minute earlier. If they went to the candle-maker they would never get to the restaurant in time, and that would mean that they’d lose from your team. However, when Blaise thought of you and how happy you’d be when winning, he just couldn’t tell.

‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Sounds great.’

/\/\/\

You were lying in bed, staring at the shapes the lamp cast on the ceiling. Pansy was hopping around in the room, trying to find the pyjamas that she had thrown off this morning. Her footsteps were heavy sounds on the wooden floor.

There was a faint smile on your face. This afternoon your team had been the only one to return with all four of the items on the list. Though that didn’t guarantee that the Red Titans had won the entire scavenger hunt, it did mean that you and Pansy’s team had won from Blaise and Draco’s.

However, there was one more thing that added to your smile.

‘He knew,’ you said and sat up against the headboard of the bed.

‘Who knew what?’ Pansy asked as she was bent over in the closet.

‘Blaise knew where to find the candles.’

Pansy looked up at you. ‘What do you mean? His team didn’t find them.’

‘No, his team didn’t know,’ you said while Pansy took off her shirt and trousers. ‘But he did.’

Pansy neatly folded her clothes and placed them on a shelf in the closet. Then she closed the door and looked around the room. ‘Where the hell are my clothes?’ she mumbled before she looked back at you. ‘How do you know?’

‘He overheard Quincy telling where the coaster came from,’ you said and you lifted the pillow on the bed and revealed Pansy’s pyjamas. ‘He looked at me before we walked away. I could see it in his face.’

Pansy had sat down on the bed and pulled the shirt over her head. ‘So if he knew, why didn’t he tell his team?’ she asked and then a wicked smile spread on her face. ‘He let you win.’

‘He let us win, Pansy,’ you corrected, but even you couldn’t suppress a smile. ‘But yeah.’

‘So that’s why you’ve been smiling so much all evening!’ Pansy exclaimed loudly and you shushed her.

‘Shh! He’s still in the room next to us!’

Pansy rolled her eyes and crawled under the covers next to you. ‘Will you now believe he’s totally into you?’

You turned off the light on the nightstand and lay down, pulling the duvet up to your chin. You stared at the dark ceiling for a moment, thinking back of today. With a smile you took Pansy’s hand and gave it a little squeeze.

‘Perhaps.’

- - - - - - -

taglist

general HP: @harry-pottery-barn​​​ @potters-heart​​​ @kingalrdy​​​ @missswriter​​​ @figlia--della--luna​​​@sexysirius​​​ @awritingtree​​​ @bi-andready-tocry​​​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​​​ @ananad1​​​ @treestarrrrrrrr​​​ @your-hispanichufflepuff​​​ @thefandomplace​​​ @theeicedamericano​​​ @girllety​​​ @moonstarrnghtsky @swearingsolemnly​​​ @weasleydream​​​ @secretsthathauntus​​​ @amixedwitch​​​ @izzyyy-1​​​ @gryffindorgirl​​​ @kitkatkl​​​ @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts​​​ @nyotamalfoy​​​​

MASTERLIST

#summer games #rach's1kcelebration #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini #blaise x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter

[totallytododeku]

☁ studying together ( x reader hc's) ☁

characters: midoriya, bakugou, todoroki, kirishima, yaoyorozu, uraraka, + ashido

genre: fluff  <33

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

I. Midoriya 🌳🍀🌻

this poor boy is so excited to be spending time with you

but he will not take his nose out of his textbook

he can't help it

he's so happy to be in the hero course he takes his schoolwork a little too seriously

however, you can use this to your advantage ;)

normally you're almost as invested in his journey to becoming the next Symbol of Peace and achieving his dream as he is

and you would never dream of doing anything that could jeopardize it

So you were silently bouncing off the walls with glee when you realized he was impervious to distractions when it came to studying

literally anything is fair game

which is why studying with him is your new favorite time of day

pet his hair

kiss his cheeks

climb into his lap

pat his head

hold his non-dominant hand

hug him from behind his chair

rest your head on his shoulder and take a nap

do whatever you want

you can basically do anything to him while he's studying without having to worry about distracting him

he will blush a little bit of you kiss him but but you think it's adorable

lol turn on whatever tv or music you want

but only if you're done with your work!!

hes very adamant that you keep up with your work as best you can do you can graduate side by side and be pro heroes together someday

K. Bakugou 💣💥 📢

he would totally be the one to invite you to study and he would probably want to study in his dorm

it's super quiet and nobody will bother you guys because they know it's that spiky gremlin's room

overall his room just has a really relaxing atmosphere

you love being near him as much as possible

and he's much more affectionate in the comfort of his dorm room

but that doesn't mean he's gonna go easy on u ;-;

he still has his gruff attitude and will make sure you're studying every day

or else he will call u baka and force you to sit down and study until you know all your material

he's actually a great tutor tho

he writes out all the work for each problem and explains them thoroughly

all while holding in you in his arms while you sit in his lap

sometimes you can convince him to play a game with you where every time you get an answer right he gives you a kiss

but you whine when you get one wrong and he won't kiss you

he huffs before giving you a kiss while still trying to look annoyed

stupid girl he mutters

but he pulls you a bit closer to him to hide his blush and moves on to the next problem despite your giggles

S. Todoroki ❄🔥🍜

he doesn't really need to study but he doesn't know how to just .. relax

like he doesn't know how to not do what his dad tells him to do

and his dad wants him to study

it's just easier for Todoroki to do what his dad wants than to rebel

that is, it was

Until he met you and the dekusquad

obviously everyone cares about their homework and wants to graduate well and go Plus Ultra!

but study sessions with Todoroki usually end up just being you guys trying to help him be less hard on himself while you have him as a captive audience

he doesn't really mind, though, especially when it's just you two

the intimacy of studying together in comfortable silence and just

enjoying each other's company

makes his heart go (*￣∇￣*)

like i said he doesn't really need to study so he'll just end up helping you review material

please just ... hold his hand :)

after you're done studying for the day just pull him into a hug and over to your bed

he needs a nap

you feel warm fuzzies inside from how caring he's been to sit with you while you finished your homework and bring you warm tea

you don't even think you just

Time for cuddles :3

it becomes your daily ritual to study together and then cuddle

he always falls asleep in your arms with a small smile

E. Kirishima 🗿🗿🗿

(HAHAHSHNSJ THE 🗿 EMOJI OMG I'M LITERALLY SO FUNNY LOL I'M CRYING)

"Okay, Y/N, let's study hard and do our homework like men!" *fist-pumping the air and grinning like an idiot*

"...what's so funny? "

he doesn't care if you're not a man it's his trademark

he likes to study at his desk because he says it's "important to stay focused and work diligently"

generally he is the least focused person, ever. besides kaminari.

however, he's so energetic and enthusiastic that once you sit down and start studying he'll be able to keep your motivation up until you've finished all your homework

GREAT at studying for tests and quizzes (in theory)

he will never give up

like I said he could keep studying for hours once he sets his mind to it

So you have to compromise and get him to study in short bursts throughout the day to help him have a better chance of remembering anything ;-;

his memory is not great but it's kinda cute

you, being the smart cookie that u are, realized the best way to help him memorize things was to study with flashcards frequently throughout the weekend while doing other activities

so you plan to hang out together and do something fun every week while having your study material on index cards in your back pockets

it's a literal study date.

a weekly date out to the mall or the park or a little coffee shop but with math trivia thrown in randomly throughout the afternoon!! :D

Of course he was ready to turn it into a game he's a literal puppy

he just wants to show you you can be proud of him

you giggle lightly when you hear him say that and let him know that you'll always be proud of him, no matter what

M. Yaoyorozu 👑🏆☕

studyblr wants what u have.

studying in momo's room makes you feel like a Victorian young lady studying moral philosophy, writing poetry about the mourning doves outside the garden window, and waiting for her husband to come home from sailing the seven seas

it's your Belle moment where she's in the royal library except it's every day

stacks of beautiful, old books

the smell of the crisp, white pages

soft classical music floating through the air

the window cracked open slightly

and you are the luckiest student in all of UA because you get to study with the smartest girl in the whole school

she's also gorgeous and sweet and perfect which def doesn't hurt

u know that joke that ur teacher can spend a year explaining something and u never understand but then a random indian guy on YouTube explains it in 2 minutes and you finally get it

she is that random indian guy

you will never struggle with a single concept after you start studying with her

And she's so proud of you for every little question you answer correctly

(even thought she's the one that explained it all so well in the first place)

it's the definition of comfortable silence

she insists that neither of you study too hard and that you take lots of breaks to stretch

she says its to help you stay concentrated but really she just wants to feel your gentle hands on her shoulders as you massage out the knots

you take turns kneading the tension out of each other's shoulders

you feel a pleasant tingle down your spine at the feeling of her soft breath on the back of your neck

She pulls away and you share awkward smiles, neither of you realizing the other one of blushing, too

(((*≧艸≦)ﾌﾟﾌﾟｯ

O. Uraraka 🌜🚀🙏

ur actually super productive study buddies

Like u started studying together and then all of a sudden you were almost at the top of your class

she's just so sweet that being with her gives you the energy you need to write that essay all in one sitting instead of procrastinating like a normal person

Shows up at your dorm with snacks and drinks to keep your energy up!! :D

even though she's still going to end up getting sleepy anyway later in the afternoon

You get most of your studying done at the beginning of your study date so it's not really a problem

you know she doesn't have a lot of money to be throwing around so you pay for dinner every night

It's usually takeout but sometimes you guys make your own dinner for fun!

it always turns out almost inedible and burned because neither of you were paying attention to the stove

don't let baku see it or he'll start screaming about how you need to try your best at everything so he can beat you fair and square and that includes cooking too

neither you nor uraraka can handle spicey food so you never eat what Bakugou cooks for the class

You grab a few bags of chips and some sushi and shut yourselves in your dorm to pull an all-nighter study session about once a month

it should make you tired but, again, studying with her is so enjoyable that you don't mind

u two enjoy each others company in studying so much that you sometimes read ahead in your textbooks just to be able to study more

overall, hanging out with her is just lighthearted and filled with giggles

and you just so happen to get all your homework done along the way

M. Ashido 👾👽🚿

"studying" with her is so much fun

Hanging out with Mina in general is so much fun

it's impossible not to smile when she's around so even if you have a huge exam tomorrow, all your worries fade away just from being with her

She is pretty distracting in cases where you actually wanted to get stuff done

But you don't care

Change of plans

you're doing mani pedi's with Mina

No more studying

it's not as bad as it sounds though

You're not slacking off or anything and you can still keep your grades up with help from your other friends like Momo and Iida

you guys are just goofing off in the privacy of your dorm room when you should be studying

"It's not a crime to be young, Y/ N ;)"

she's just so energetic and happy like a little pink ball of sunshine

you can't help but laugh at her silliness and cute antics after a long day of classes

she makes your heart beat faster like you're on a roller coaster but without the nerves

somehow you feel giddy and comfortable in her presence at the same time

it doesn't matter what you two are doing, you always have fun

make sure she goes to bed on time, though, or she might end up baking a seven-tier cake at 3 am and Bakugou will scream at you for waking him up

don't feed her after midnight lmao

i started writing this after i almost died of boredom in my online calc class. my senioritis is already kicking in and it's still September (｡-ω-)  

#boku no hero academia x reader #bnha x reader fluff #bnha headcannons #bakugou katsuki x reader fluff #midoriya izuku x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shoto todoroki #Uraraka ochako #uraraka ochako x reader #Mina ashido x reader #yaoyorozu momo x reader #yaomomo #Kirishima eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader fluff headcannons #study date #hc

[casualmaraudering]

i’ve been very soft for dad sirius lately so have a very fluffy drabble! (edit: French provided by @yesanotherpotterhead, thank you so much! <3)

translations from French to English under the cut! 

*

Le vent qui hurle en moi ne pense plus à demain

Il est bien trop fort

J'ai lutté en vain

Cache tes pouvoirs, n'en parle pas

Sirius hastily writes down another rune sequence on the parchment, then scribbles a few numbers on a spare sheet.

Fais attention, le secret survivra

Pas d'états d'âme, pas de tourments

De sentiments

Calculating the proper harmony and proportion of wand movement-to-incantation-to-rune placement and sequence has always been his least favourite part of spell modification. Altering the balance has to be done with extreme caution, unless he wants to burn his own eyebrows off (again).

And yet, at the same time, it’s the part of his work he looks the most forward to. Every failed attempt, every careful calculation, every slight tweak leads him closer and closer to success - the thrill of having done something and done it well, that’s what Sirius strives for. There’s nothing better than knowing he had an idea and executed it to its fullest.

Though, for the particular spell he’s working on, that still might take a bit of time. Especially with the fitting soundtrack playing through his living room.

Libérée, délivrée

Je ne mentirai plus jamais

Libérée, délivrée

C'est décidé, je m'en vais

Every couple seconds or so, he’ll glance away from his papers and down onto the floor of the lounge, towards the makeshift fort of blankets and pillows that’s been there ever since Remus started work a couple weeks ago. Sirius found it easier to just leave it there as it is instead of cleaning it up and then inevitably putting it back together every afternoon.

Any time he looks towards there - towards his little baby boy, propped up by a few pillows to sit comfortably - he smiles without even noticing that he does. It’s been a natural reaction ever since Leo came to Sirius’s life. His heart fills with warmth every single time without a fail.

It’s just what that kind of unconditional love does to you.

Being a dad himself makes him more and more spiteful towards his own parents every day. He doesn’t ever remember his mother or father being even nice towards him, yet alone attentive or loving. He never got lullabies, or hugs, he was never held. He could never imagine looking at his baby and not wanting to hold him, kiss him, sing and play and spend all of the time he has with him.

He can’t change his own childhood, but at least he can make sure his baby’s childhood is done right. Even if he’ll end up the clingy parent.

J'ai laissé mon enfance en été

Perdue dans l'hiver

Le froid est pour moi le prix de la liberté

Sirius finishes the last of his equation and puts his quill down, flicking his hand ever so slightly, making all of his notes and books carefully sort and place itself into a secured box (one that responds to only his magical handprint - he’s learned the hard way that he can no longer leave his work on the table and expect it to still be there when he turns around next - not with a fussy baby with uncontrolled magic). When he’s sure everything is sealed and secure, he gets up from the chair, and makes his way towards the blanket fort.

Once picked up, Leo starts fussing right away, making Sirius laugh.

“ C’est bon je m’assieds,” he says, French rolling easily from his tongue “je te laisse regarder Elsa tranquille.”

He sits down with his back to the couch, and lets Leo get comfortable on his lap, resting against his stomach and chest. There’s no more fussing after that - only the sounds of the movie.

Sirius talks to Leo while it plays - he’s not sure when that habit started (perhaps when he’s realised he can recite most of the dialogue in the movie without even realising he knows the words), and yet it’s a simple joy to just talk to his baby. He points out characters, repeats lines - usually with very silly voice impressions - says whatever comes to his mind.

So many of his old classmates would likely laugh seeing him right now - a full time stay at home dad, watching the same cartoon movie several times a day, and refusing to put down his own baby at times. It’s not how he imagined himself to be. He planned a Quidditch career, travelling the world, all that. Now, though, he wouldn’t swap this for anything else in the world.

They have a snack break, a nappy change, and a slight incident with peanut butter involved (after which Sirius might have changed into Padfoot and licked it off the floor - and the baby. Not that Remus needs to know), they sit down in front of the TV once again. Sirius doesn’t even have to ask - and it’s not like Leo can answer him just yet - before turning on La Reine des Neiges once again.

They get to the two sisters fighting when there’s a crack of Apparition from the hallway.

“Papa est rentré, tu veux aller lui dire bonjour?” Sirius says to Leo, ticking his stomach - even if focused on the cartoon, he lets out a happy squeal. “ Ou alors tu continues simplement à regarder le film pendant que papa te dis bonjour, hmm?”

“I swear, he’ll speak French before English and I’ll be clueless to anything that’s going on in this house.” Before Sirius can continue the ‘debate’ with Leo, Remus walks into the lounge. He’s shed his coat already, and Sirius can see his bag on the floor of the hallway.

“I’ll translate,” Sirius says with a grin.

“And what if you’re not home?”

“See, that’s my strategy. You can’t divorce me if you can’t understand our baby without me.”

Remus snorts, and walks up towards the heap of blankets - he has to step around quite a few stuffies and pillows, careful not to accidentally squish anything. He sits down next to Sirius and pecks him on the cheek.

Sirius flicks his hand to pause the movie. Usually, that’d earn him a bunch of protests - sometimes a temper tantrum if he didn’t pick Leo up quick enough (the boy is quite clingy - there’s not a minute in the day when he doesn’t want to be held. Sirius doesn’t mind, though - there’s nothing he loves more than simply getting to hold his baby) - but now there’s just a happy squeal and a bunch of baby noises as Leo bounces around with a laugh, waiting to be picked up by Remus.

The display of affection between them never fails to make Sirius so emotional he can’t quite speak. Sirius’s husband and their son. Such a simple, everyday thing, Remus coming home from school - and yet it always manages to be so incredibly special.

After many kisses, and hugs and squeals and baby talk from Remus, they settle down once again - this time with Remus, his head resting on Sirius’s shoulder. And so Sirius lets the movie play again.

“The ice princess again?”

“She has a name, and that’s Elsa. You’d know that if you were me, because it’s all that has been playing ever since September.”

Remus chuckles. “It was your idea to stay home with him.”

“I know. And I don’t regret it. I am, however, slowly questioning my sanity. You can only hear that one song so many times without going insane.”

“‘s not too bad if it’s in French.”

“Yeah, cause you don’t understand the words.”

Remus just shakes his head with a laugh, and then lets his hand go through the small bush of Leo’s tangled black hair.

“Your accent got heavier again,” he mumbles, letting himself inhale the smell of Sirius’s sweater. It’s October now, which means Sirius is slowly going back to the habit of baking far too many gingerbread cookies. His sweater smells like a coffee shop.

“No, it didn’t. It only does that after I’m at Reg’s.”

“You just rolled that r. It got heavier.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“You just don’t want to admit that you’re getting that from Elsa.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the smile creeping on his face.

“This looks like you and Reg when you two fight,” Remus says. “Or sounds like it, I guess. Bunch of French gibberish thrown around angrily.”

Sirius laughs. “You’re not wrong. Which one am I, though?”

Remus watches the scene for a few moments.

“The blonde. She looks very distressed and dramatic. The ginger one is quite calm.”

“I’ll politely ignore the implication.”

Remus chuckles, but then he turns Sirius’s face with his free hand and kisses him sweetly.

“You’re still my favourite, though. Even if a little dramatic. And even if you’re turning our baby against me.”

Sirius smiles, and lets their lips meet again for a short moment.

“I can teach you some words.”

“Nah. It’ll ruin it. You’re hot sounding as long as I’ve no clue what you’re saying.”

Sirius grins. “Je suis sexy quand je parle français, hein?”

“Whatever you just said, leave that for when the baby’s asleep. And tell me what the hell’s going on.”

Sirius lets his head fall down to rest against Remus’s head, and he settles into the pillows a little deeper.

“So the sister just said-”

“C’est bon je m’assieds, je te laisse regarder Elsa tranquille.”  -  “I’m just gonna sit down, I’ll let you watch your Elsa all you’d like.”

“Papa est rentré, tu veux aller lui dire bonjour? Ou alors tu continues simplement à regarder le film pendant que papa te dis bonjour, hmm?” -  “Your dad’s home, Wanna go say hello? Or you’re just gonna have daddy go say hi while you keep watching, hmm?”

Je suis sexy quand je parle français, hein? -  “I sound hot, huh?”

#i didn't reread this we die like men here #enjoy some Fluff #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #wolfstar drabble #my tag #my writing tag #me?? writing fluff?? wild #i hope it's not too terrible lmao #i just love dad sirius being soft and cute #long post

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

C A L L  M E  C A T, chapter nine

January 2017

We had time off near the holidays, space for all of us was good. The rush of our record deal and newfound fame was suffocating in moments, exhilarating in others. 

Niall journeyed back to Ireland and Miles back up north to Massachusetts. Jules’ parents were only in Connecticut, and Harry had already made the trip back to the UK to see his family. 

By the time the New Year came, I was sick of being in Florida with no friends and minimal interaction from my parents. Our last night together as a band was the night of my drunken exit, something that we all knew was awkward and tense but didn’t dare to mention the next morning. 

Being around my parents made me drink less just because I feared becoming them. Which was probably good for both my liver and my mind, but bad for my emotional state. It had been a few weeks since I’d spoken to Miles or Harry. Jules would check in just to make sure I hadn’t murdered my parents yet, Niall sent pictures of his nephew and the pints he was drinking back home. 

I sat on the back patio a few days into 2017, sunglasses on to block the sun and hoping to get a bit of a glow on the unseasonably warm day. My phone buzzed beside me and pulled my attention back to the pool in front of me, my parents were both at work and I finally had a minute without them to gather my thoughts. 

Nothing about the sunshine state made me want to stay, especially not the locked door down the hall that had been untouched since 2011. The bed was likely unmade and I was sure dust had collected on the trophies that lined his shelves. 

I picked up my phone and read the message that had just come through, one that made me want to abandon my home state more than I already did. 

Harry Styles (1:03pm): Random question, are you still in Florida?

I looked around the backyard, boats buzzed by on the water and the waves glimmered in the sun.

Cat Fonder (1:04pm): Unfortunately

Harry Styles (1:04pm): Me too.

I pulled up the phone and read it twice before I pressed the phone icon near his name. It rang once before he answered. 

“Hi!”

“What are you doing in Florida?”

“Well--bit of an airline issue, so I ended up on a flight here instead of New York. I’m stuck here overnight.”

“That sucks,” I admitted, turning on my side on the pool lounge chair. “What are you going to do?”

“Well,” he took a pause, but I could tell he’d already decided. “You’re going to come get me at the airport.”

“What makes you think that?”

He laughed on the other end of the phone. “I mean, you wouldn’t let me sleep overnight in the Miami airport would you?” I let out a groan for him to hear, laughed a little when he threw in: “I know you have enough bedrooms at your parents house.”

Marta, our longtime housekeeper and an adopted member of our family, slid open the door to the living room. “Do you want lunch?”

“In a few!” I called back to her. “Harry--you can Uber here if you want.”

“Oh just come pick me up--how far do you live from the airport?”

“From Miami? Like an hour and a half!”

“Which is exactly why I’m not paying for an Uber, Catherine.”

I exhaled through my nose, licked at my lips, already regretting the decision to take one of my dad’s cars into a Miami afternoon. The air was sticky and the climb in my heartbeat made me feel stupid and childish. Harry’s chastising on the other end didn’t help. 

“Did you hang up on me? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Cause I’m trying to think of a plan to be in a car with you and not kill you.”

He let out a belly laugh at this, noise from the busy airport terminal was seeping through the speaker and into my ears. “I’ll make sure we don’t lay any hands on each other.”

Goosebumps rose on my skin, his voice almost melodic when he said see you soon!

I grabbed the keys and took a sandwich for the road from Marta, prayed to some type of higher power that I didn’t rear end someone or fuck up my dad’s Mercedes. He drove the Tesla to work, which was good, honestly, because I wouldn’t even know how to turn that one on. 

It took me only an hour and fifteen, which didn’t seem like a result of my timid driving but more the lack of traffic and time of day. When I rolled up to the baggage claim and saw him standing on the curb with sunglasses pushed up and a hood over his head, I rolled the window down. 

“How’s the disguise working?”

He made a face at me, stuffed his suitcase in the backseat and climbed in front. “You joke, but there were girls who literally cried when they saw me. And a few photographers, I think--which is really weird.”

“Really?” I looked over my shoulder and put on my blinker, hoping to merge effortlessly over three lanes to get out of the hellhole that was Miami International. 

“Yeah--don’t know why but people apparently like our band in Florida. Hometown pride, maybe.”

He had a point--apparently my name had been one of the most searched google phrases in the state at the end of 2016. But we weren’t really paparazzi level yet, once or twice in New York or LA when we’d do shows, but they’d yet to really follow us around.

“Okay, well you might have to be silent the rest of the ride if you want to get to Palm Beach in one piece.”

He turned towards me with an amused look. “Do you suck at driving?”

“No,” I said, looking over at him quickly, a car merged in front of me and made me swerve to the side a little bit when I took my eyes off the road. 

“Jesus fuck!” He laughed, “oh god--you would be absolutely rubbish at driving. This is actually extremely on brand for you.”

“I’m not rubbish at driving,” I twisted my face. “I’m just out of practice.”

We made it four miles away from the airport before he demanded that I get out and let him drive, arguing that even if the steering wheel was on the other side and we drove on the wrong side of the road, he’d be a safer bet. 

He got a coffee at a gas station and took a picture of me with the girl behind the register, more pleasant than I’d ever seen him be. He put the windows down and played me the songs he’d been listening to over the holidays and laughed when he pointed at my hands. “You got a manicure!”

I hid my face, embarrassed at the sellout I’d become. Thirteen whole days in town and my mother had convinced me to sit beside her, watch daytime talk shows while the spa ladies buffed and snipped our cuticles. 

She made me, I laughed. You might end up with one too before you leave.

We rolled up to Island Drive right before my parents got home from work and Harry leaned towards the window to get a better view of the house. His mouth hung open when we turned into the shrub-lined driveway. “Jesus, Cat. What do your parents do again?”

“Work too much,” I told him. “Mom’s a dentist and my dad’s a financial advisor. They’re super obnoxious so please try to interact with them at a minimum like Marta and I do.”

“Marta?”

“Housekeeper, my old nanny--she’s part of the family.”

He nodded, still taking in the fountain and manicured lawn when I pulled his suitcase from the backseat. Harry had known that my parents were wealthy--mainly from the time that Miles made me sound like an obnoxious rich kid when we wrote at their apartment. But Harry was apparently surprised by the level of wealth that was held in Palm Beach. His lips parted when I brought him in the front door, views of the water over the crest of the lawn and the pool, eyes landing on mine after a few seconds. 

“And you moved to New York, why?”

I kept my voice quiet, didn’t want Marta to hear my bluntness from the other room. “To get out of here.”

But soon she smiled and rushed over, eager to take Harry’s suitcase and bring it to the guest room. She offered him tea and coffee and all of the snacks that he joked he would have held out for if he knew she was here and waiting.

I brought him upstairs to show him the room he could sleep in, around the corner from mine, a view of the side yard and the gardens that a landscaping company tended to every Saturday morning. I laid the ground rules: no mentioning our partying, no mentioning times when I’ve been too drunk. If he wanted a free place to sleep with good food and a king-sized bed, he needed to keep his mouth shut about that stuff. 

He saluted me and stifled a laugh. “Yes ma’am.”

“I’m serious,” I told him. “Just be quiet, don’t give them a reason to ask you any questions.”

“Alright--I mean, come on, they can’t be that bad.”

As if on cue--as if Harry showing up in Florida wasn’t enough bad karma for one day--the alarm beeped downstairs letting me know one of them was home. Lorna first, she came in with big sunglasses and greeted Harry with a smile, her hand outstretched for her afternoon glass of Chardonnay before Marta could even hang her keys up by the door. 

Frank strolled in a little after six pm, dinner was almost ready when Harry excused himself to the bathroom and I took it as my opportunity to corner my mother before she was too drunk to remember it. 

I knocked on her office door twice, waited for her to look up from her computer before I took a few steps inside. “Hi, dear,” she said, a small smile before she looked back to the papers on her desk. 

“Hi--I just wanted to uh, ask you a favor, actually.” I approached her with my hands on my hips, unsure if I’d get her full attention or if I’d have to snap my fingers to get her eyes back on me. I sat down in the chair across from her, a formal chess move to let her know I was serious.

“What’s that?” She leaned back in her chair and waited for me to spit it out. Her direct eye contact made me nervous, I stammered over my words and tried to sway her by bringing my dad into it. 

“I, uh, just asked dad the same thing--he said it was fine.”

“Just spit it out, Catherine.”

“Can we not talk about Cameron in front of Harry?”

She set down her glasses at this, watched me for a second before she tilted her head to the side. “Okay.”

“Like, at all. Okay? Not even once.”

She sighed, almost as if my request was painful for her to consider. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

Maybe she’d tone it down with a stranger in the house. Maybe not talking about Cameron for someone else’s benefit would make her respect the limit more than she had in the past. 

I had hoped for so long that one day it’d stop, one day she’d forget his name or leave it out of conversation even if just for my sake. But my mother was too selfish for that--always forgetting that while she was grieving a son, I was grieving my other half. 

I should have known she couldn’t help herself--she had to relive the moment over and over, desperate to keep herself alive in the past as if it was safer than the present. His name slipped  out of her mouth like she didn’t even realize it, I nearly choked on my asparagus at the dinner table when she said it.

Harry was busy making small talk about our upcoming album, the studio sessions we’d be heading into once we flew back to the city. “Our manager said it’ll be good timing to release an album, makes us eligible for award season the following year.”

She pretended to be interested, pretended to care for a second about our careers, but then she did it. “Reminds me of the time Cameron won that award--”

“Mom,” I said it quick, my hands falling to the table with a thud, fork and knife in my grasp when I cut her off. “Don’t.”

The noise startled Harry, but the genuine smile on his face only faltered a little. “No, I’d love to hear the story,” he didn’t even have a clue to the fire he was igniting.

“We talked about it mom,” I gave her a death glare--which I could tell threw her off. She was frozen, torn between pleasing her dinner guest and pissing off her daughter, two of her favorite past times. 

She gestured at Harry. “Well I don’t want to be rude, Catherine.”

“Dad,” I looked over to see him on his phone, my voice pleading for him to intervene. 

“Lorna, leave it alone,” he said, disinterested, phone screen still lit up like he was begging for a distraction. 

“Oh,” she sighed, sarcasm threaded in her words. “Right--we don’t go there.”

Harry was across from me, mid-bite of his steak. He looked from me and to my mom, then back, while he chewed. He had no clue what was happening but he could tell he’d said the wrong thing. 

My mom picked up her wine glass, brought it to her lips and offered a sweet smile in Harry’s direction. “Nevermind, dear--don’t want to upset Catherine.” 

I rolled my eyes and stood from the table, “Harry, do you want to go for a walk?” 

He was caught off guard, still uncomfortably in the middle when he nodded quickly, stood from the table and thanked both of my parents for letting him stay the night as I headed for the front door. He hurried out behind me, his voice barely a whisper in the hallway. “Did I do that? Did I fuck up?”

“No,” I said, calling to Marta over my shoulder. “Dinner was delicious, Marta! We’ll be back!”

“What even happened in there?” He asked, still a few steps behind me once we walked out onto the moonlit driveway. 

I stopped short and turned around, the anger in my chest was threatening to spill out and onto the concrete. “Nothing--my mother is just fucking stupid and selfish.”

“So the intimidating level of rage coming off of you is not my fault?”

“What? No.”

I spun around again and headed for the street, a left turn towards the familiar route that I’d escape to when something like this happened. He walked beside me on the tree-line street, silent and steady until the neighborhood opened up. The same empty field at the end of the road that gave access to the lagoon, the same location I’d come to so many times after storming away from dinner as a kid. Doing it at 22 felt no different than at 15.

He shoved his hands in his pockets when we stepped onto the grass. “What is this place?”

“I don’t know--an empty field at the end of my street.”

“Is this your ponder spot?”

I looked over my shoulder, his face was lit up by the glow of the streetlights. “Ponder spot?”

He nodded and offered a shrug, “you know, the place you run off to when you need space.”

I bit back a laugh, embarrassed that his words couldn’t have been more accurate. He took my silence as confirmation, followed me over to a picnic table that sat close to the end of the water.

I threw a leg over the bench and let my head rest on top, a groan escaping my lips once I felt his weight shift the structure. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head but didn’t lift it, so he let me sit in silence for a little while. A breeze blew my hair around and after a few minutes, he sighed, like he already knew the answer but wanted to ask anyway. “Do you want to tell me who Cameron is?”

That got me to raise my head. “Definitely not.”

He smirked a little, a tiny nod as if to tell me he wouldn’t push it. He reached a hand over and patted my thigh, chin in his hand as he watched people cruise by on their boats. 

For the first time I felt comfortable with him--not pressured or panicked. He brought his eyes over to me and then fished into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a small joint, a dimple appeared on his cheek when he said: “I found this in the guest room.”

“Shut up,” I laughed, pulling it from him and sniffing it to inspect. “Did you really?”

He nodded, “which one of your parents is the stoner?”

“Well my mom is too high strung, so--must be Frank.”

He pulled out a lighter and held it up, watched when I placed it between my lips and then inhaled. I passed it over to him, thankful for a buffer between us now aside from the moon and the breeze. 

Smoke escaped my lips and floated towards the stars, he drummed his fingers on the table before I passed it to him. “Do you feel overwhelmed ever?”

“Ever?” He laughed at my question, licked his lips and then looked out over the water. 

“I mean by the music stuff lately.”

He shrugged. “Excited mostly. Why? Do you?”

I nodded, unafraid to admit that being home brought a different layer of complexity to life. “My parents will just never get it.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not successful.”

I looked down at the faded wood and the fresh coat of polish on my nails. “It kind of feels that way, though--you know, if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, did it really happen?”

He stared at me for a second, sure that I was joking. “You’re mental,” he said. “The tree is down on the ground, of course it fell. Who fucking cares if they were around to hear it or not?”

I nodded, took the joint back from him and took another inhale, reminded of the first time we did this type of thing. 

He passed it to me, watched as I let smoke dance through the chilly air before he asked: “Why do you go by Cat?”

Another shrug, how I answered most questions these days. Do you have nightmares about it? Do you think about him all the time? Do you feel easily agitated? 

“Just don’t like Catherine. Too formal.”

I didn’t want to get into it. My mother calls me that, my brother called me that, all good reasons to pack up and leave behind in the childhood bedroom that held bad memories.

“I like Catherine,” he admitted. “S’pretty.”

I let my eyes sweep over to him, the moon reflected in his eyes, curls of hair poked out from the beanie on his head. “Just--don’t call me that, please.”

He laughed, completely unaware of the way it made my chest heave in the shower or the way it sent a shiver down my spine when my mom had to cut herself off--Catherine and Cameron--no, just Catherine. 

I had to correct her now too. Catherine felt like it needed to be followed by something, another name, the one that had been linked to mine since birth, born two minutes apart. 

“I think you’re pretty fucking successful, you know.”

I glanced over at him. “Yeah?”

A single nod. His short hair was still something to get used to, it bent in the wind and blocked his eyes when he turned to look at me. “I will never admit I said this, but, we’d be nothing without you.”

“Well, we only got big once you came along.”

He smirked, “so you’re aware of that?”

I gave him a shove, shaking my head at his stupid ego. His eyes lingered on mine for a second, his knee knocked against mine when he flicked the joint and then he let out a sigh. 

I wanted to lean in and kiss him, and I probably would have if it weren’t for Lila. As far as I knew she was home in New York, maybe in Jersey with her parents or siblings, but certainly an obstacle to whatever kind of intoxicated hook up could have happened between us.

I cleared my throat and looked up at the sky. “Do you want to go write a song?”

He smiled, a soft one, nodded a few times and patted me on the thigh again before he stood up and offered me a hand. “I’d love to.”

He followed me back to the house, up the stairs to my bedroom and stared at the ceiling while I plucked at the guitar. 

I don’t know where I wanna go,

But it’s far away from here

Don’t know what I’m running from

If it’s you or me, my dear

He watched, listened, nodded along while it poured out of me, more of a witness than a participant. 

It’s good, Cat, he said, keep going.

Everybody’s talking now

But no one seems to say  a thing

I do my best to drown them out

I just wish that I could be

Somewhere far away from here

Back to myself, back where I could see clear

Somewhere far away from here

Won’t somebody take me far away from here?

Sleep was heavy on my eyelids, Harry down the hall and a rough version already sent off in an email to Niall before I realized he’d said it. Four and a half years of begging him to say it, call me Cat, hoping one day he’d just give in and go along with it. All this time I thought fighting him and pushing him away would make it happen. 

It was fitting, I guess, that it was the exact opposite that finally got me what I wanted. 

**

Niall was excited that Harry had accidentally landed himself in Miami, and he was even more excited when he learned that I told him he could stay with me an extra few days before I was due to return to Manhattan and the responsibilities of work. 

He was eager to see my town, made me drive him by the high school and the parking lot where I learned--or failed, according to him--to parallel park. He swam in the pool and spit water in my face, completely deconstructing the wall I had managed to build over the last few years with a single glance in my direction. 

He promised he stayed because he was having fun, not just because flying home with me meant a first class seat.

It was rare, these days, too, that I found myself on a boat. A few times since the accident, maybe three or four. But his excitement and delight was contagious when he learned my parents still had one--the same one--and it was down on a dock off the backyard. 

I let the motor hum to life, pinks and purples splashed over the sky on our last night when he popped a bottle of champagne. I wondered if Lila knew he was here--he seemed undisturbed by his phone and altogether disconnected and unplugged. 

I drove us out to the middle of the lagoon, dropped anchor and told him about the time I learned to swim off the back. I was three or four, always in a life vest and completely unaware of the irony that my life was accumulating. 

Cam would jump off first, his floaties on his arms as he swam over to my dad who’d be in the water already. My mom would clap and snap pictures, throw us a noodle or two and then wrap us in towels back on board the boat. 

Harry was treading water beside me, though, hair dripping wet after he’d pulled off his shirt and shorts. 

I laughed when he dared me to jump in after him, said he hoped my swimming skills were better than they were back then. He splashed enough water at me on the boat before I gave in, promised he wouldn’t watch me undress and wouldn’t tell a soul that we’d been this cliché, swimming in our underwear and conversation laced with champagne giggles. So I tossed my shirt to the side and shimmied out of my shorts before I let myself sink under the surface. 

When I came up, he was watching me. 

“What?”

“Nothing--just--s’been nice to hang out with you.”

I twisted my face at his kindness, crinkled my nose at the friendship that had suddenly blossomed in the cool Florida weather.

The laughter from another boat floated over the waves, a big splash is what did it. 

I looked over, searched for the person only a hundred yards away, desperate for their head to emerge from the water, unlike his. My heartbeat was in my ears, throat tight and shoulders tense.

“Where are they?” I asked, my head turning frantically. “Do you see them? Did they come up?”

“What?” Harry followed my gaze and the smile faded from his lips. “What are you talking about?”

A man popped back up, a group of people on the boat cheered for him and sang along the music that hummed from their speakers. Harry could tell something was wrong, I tried my best to slow my breathing when I realized what was happening.

I swam over to the boat, hands clutching the ladder as I pulled myself up. My breathing was sporadic, the images flashing through my head with no option to pause. Allie’s voice, Will’s voice, the feeling in my chest when I knew he was dead and we couldn’t do anything about it. 

But I was acutely aware of the moment around me, Harry climbed up to the boat behind me and had a terrified look on his face, green eyes searching the floor for a towel before he draped it over my shoulders. 

“You’re alright--Cat, you’re alright, it’s okay,” his arms were around me when a sob slipped out, eyes stung from a mix of salt water and tears. I couldn’t do this, it couldn’t happen here and now. 

The waves from that day couldn’t show up, drag me under until I couldn’t breathe like he couldn’t. Not in front of Harry. 

“Hey,” he said, moving my shoulders to force me to sit down, his knees across from mine when he looked me in the eyes. “You’re alright, nothing’s happening.”

I nodded, licked at my lips and wiped at my eyes with the towel when I blinked a few times. Feet on the boat, hands around the towel, I could see blue and white and the keys in the ignition. “Okay,” I said, more grounded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, hands on my knees now to keep them from shaking. 

Silence for a minute when I looked back at the other boat. They were fine. No one was drowning. I wasn’t drowning. I was on the boat and Harry was on the boat. 

The sun had sunk lower now, almost meeting the horizon when I met his eyes again.

“When did he die?”

“What?”

“Your brother.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He plucked at his lower lip, he dropped my gaze for a second and then sighed. “It’s okay, Cat.”

I felt the water in my eyes at that, let my head swivel side to side to argue his claim. “No,” I said. “It’s not okay. This is why I don’t talk about it.”

“Maybe that’s why this is happening, then. Maybe you get like this because you refuse to talk about it.”

I pulled away from him, angry at his accusation and the way he sounded like he knew me better than he did. 

“Unless the two ten-year-olds in the frame above the guest bath are just random people,” he shrugged. “That’s Cameron, right?”

I was caught--unsure where to go and stuck on a boat with him. I didn’t look at him, kept my eyes on the floor and nodded slowly. 

He repeated his original question. “When did he die?”

“The summer before senior year of high school. He drowned.”

A breath of air escaped from his lips, like he’d expected a different answer. Cancer, maybe. A terminal illness or something less violent and avoidable. 

“Were you--with him when it happened?”

I wiped at my eyes, wishing the tears would stop and the memories would, too. “In the boat--we were drunk.”

He nodded, his focus solely on me when he leaned forward. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“You weren’t there,” I said quickly, defensively. “You have no clue what happened.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t. But I know it’s not your fault.”

I cried harder at that, vision blurred when I nodded. “It was, Harry--I didn’t realize how long he’d been underwater. I was too drunk.”

“It’s called an accident for a reason.”

“You’re not supposed to know any of this,” I reminded, eyeing him skeptically when I pulled the towel up to cover myself more. “Niall doesn’t know. Miles doesn’t know. No one knows.”

“Does Jules?”

I nodded. “Cause I’m a fucking moron and got too drunk one night.”

He laughed a little. “Why’ve you been hiding it?”

“Cause college was the first time I was just me. Not Catherine and Cameron, not one of two. I was just me for the first time and it was okay--it wasn’t sad or tragic that I was just me. I wanted it to be normal.”

He nodded in understanding, offered to drive us back to the dock if I showed him how. My parents were upstairs for the night, enough space for us to sit at the counter and heat up leftovers that Marta had made while we were out. He listened when I talked about the nightmares and the flashbacks, followed me up the stairs and nodded solemnly when I made him promise to not tell the others. 

He echoed his sentiment on the boat: it’s not your fault. He brushed a piece of hair behind my ear before he leaned in and kissed me outside my bedroom door, softer than before, and most importantly, sober. 

He followed me over to the bed, his touch gentle and warm when we slipped under the sheets. It was easy--slow and careful, not like the time before. He made me feel grounded, actually in the moment for the first time in a long time. He didn’t know it, but he made me feel seen.

Something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

It felt different to wake up beside him, knowing he knew and knowing he still thought I was a decent human. I looked over to see him, eyelids fluttered against his cheek when I stirred. 

A buzzing on the nightstand grabbed my attention, though, his phone vibrating with an incoming call when the morning sun crept in. A stomach dropping worse than ever, a shiver down my spine when I saw her name, a picture of the two of them side by side. 

Incoming call: Lila DiPretto

table of contents | join the tag list + talk to me | the playlist

author’s note: wowowowowowoooooww! A doozy of a chapter I hope none of you hate me too much for all of the emotion in this one! Things are heating up and now Harry knows Cat’s secret.....shit can only get weirder from here!

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[bonniebird]

A version of home

Sam Winchester x Reader / Dean Winchester x Reader (Not sure about the pairing yet)

AN: This is 100% a self-indulgent comfort fic I started for myself xD

Masterlist

“Bobby? Is everything ok?” Sam asked as he answered his phone. Dean frowned and glanced at his brother as he drove. There was a long silence as Sam listened to Bobby and Dean clicked his tongue impatiently as he waited for Sam to say something, anxiety bubbled bitterly in the pit of his stomach as Sam hummed a few times. He hated waiting for an update. 

The last he heard from Bobby, when he’d called that morning, everything was fine. He hadn't expected to hear from Bobby again, seeing as they were on their way to his house.

“Urm… yeah… let me check the map. We shouldn’t be too far from there. If you give me the address we can get there this afternoon.” Sam said as he started fumbling in the glove box for a pen and paper.

“Whats going on?” Dean asked quickly. He glanced quickly at Sam who frowned, a pen hanging from his mouth, as he dug into the back of the glove box and pulled a scrap of paper out.

“Just take the next left instead of going the back way to Bobby’s.” Sam said as he held the phone between his shoulder and ear, scribbling something on the paper. “Ok, we’re heading onto route ninety now.”

“So? What’s going on?” Dean asked as he sped up, watching Sam hang up and trace the route he’d set on the map. Dean’s tone was short and pensive, he was starting to worry but when he glanced at Sam again his expression made it easier for Dean to take a breath.

“Bobby needs us to pick something up from Presho, it’s only two and a half hours from Bobby’s. It looks like if we go this way we should pretty much pass right through.” Sam explained as he fumbled with one of the maps that he’d fished out of the glove compartment.

“Great, we’ll still make it in time for dinner. Apparently Bobby saved one of his neighbours and they dropped round apple crumble. It’s almost as good as apple pie!”

The drive to Presho didn’t take too long, the roads were clear and Dean sped along, able to zone out a little as the music blared. Sam had fallen asleep a good two hours before but as Dean pulled up outside of the motel Bobby had sent them to he emergency breaked which jerked Sam awake.

“Dean! Dude, come on.” Sam grumbled as he rubbed his face and looked around.

“Well we’re here. What was it that Bobby wanted you to get? I’m assuming some old books or something.”

“He didn’t really say. I figured that the address was for a library or a house. You’re sure this is right?” Sam asked as he glanced at the ordinary looking motel Dean had parked in front of.

They both stared up at the old building. There weren’t many cars in the parking lot and the E in the motel flickered every now and then. It hadn’t occurred to either of them that it was starting to get dark. A couple started walking over to the car and Sam pointed out that they could have something for Bobby, as they were holding a book shaped parcel wrapped up. The couple passed by as the back door of the Impala opened.

“Yes, Bobby. I see the old car. I’m getting in it now. I have all of my stuff! Bobby. I shipped the rest of my stuff to you last week.” You said as you slammed the car door shut. Sam and Dean stared at each other for a moment, Sam mouth Bobby’s name to Dean who shrugged. “Bobby it’s bad enough you won't let me stay out here by myself… It is not my fault that the werewolf totaled my car! I’m not careless, I'm just fast… Which sometimes appears to be careless.”

“Urm. Hey, I’m Dean… are we supposed to drop you off at Bobby’s or..?” Dean started as he turned in his seat. You’d already made yourself at home, feet up on the back seat as you sprawled over, your bags shoved in the footwell.

“Bobby wants to talk to the Idjits?” You said as you leant forwards between the front seats and Sam hurriedly took the phone. “Hi, I’m (Y/N).” You said and smiled at Dean who gave you a dubious smile.

“Oh, no everything is good Bobby.” Sam said as he hung up and handed back your phone. “Bobby might have told me that we were picking someone up. I was distracted when I was looking for the map.” Sam confessed. Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Will you sit in your seat… and don’t put your shoes up on my damn seats! I just cleaned them.” Dean complained as he started backing out of the motel parking lot. You gave him a challenging look before nodding, deciding to eat a snack so obnoxiously loud that it was hard for Dean to hide that he was irritated by the mess you were making, Sam was having a hard time not laughing at Dean. He got the impression you were going to give them, and Bobby a run for your money when it came to go along with what Bobby wanted.

******************

“You boys are late.” Bobby called out as he hung up his latest call and started heading into the kitchen through the back entrance. Dean had hurried through the door first and dumped his duffle bag by the back door.

“Yeah, well. Next time you want me to pick someone up, call a taxi!” Dean said irritably as he rummaged in the fridge for a beer.

“(Y/N) being a pain?” Bobby asked and Dean grunted out a response as he headed to the living room.

“Dean doesn’t like it when people put dirty shoes on his seats.” Sam said as he lugged in several bags that Bobby knew were definitely yours. You’d been unhappy that he’d insisted that you came to stay with him for a while. At least you eventually agreed. You came in a few moments later with just two bags that looked rather light.

“Jeez Bobby! You harpe at me for being unorganised. Look at this place. You’d double the floor space if you put up a bookshelf.” You said as soon as you followed Sam into the living room.

“If you want it any other way then you can get to it yourself.” Bobby joked as he started dishing up the food one of his neighbours had sent over. She’d been doing it a lot since he’d saved her from whatever it had been he saved her from last month. Honestly hunts seemed to bleed into one and he was happy that he could spend a little time not thinking about it, even if it meant sitting in front of the tv with his dinner and the boys taking up the space on his sofa.

“Is every room in the house like this? No wonder you take so long getting back to the hunters that call you.” You said with a cheeky tone he tutted as he shook his head.

“You have a room and you’re getting free food. You don’t like it…”

“I can go somewhere else! Great, thanks Bobby. I’ll pass the message along to Ellen.” You said cheerfully as Bobby handed you a plate of food. You took up one of the armchairs at the edge of the room, starting to tuck into the meal. Honestly you could’t remember the last time you hadn’t just grabbed fast food.

“Whose Ellen?” Sam asked curiously as he shoved Dean with his foot as he settled into one side of the sofa.

“She runs the hunter bar up in Nebraska.” You answered casually before looking over at Bobby and adding. “I thought you said these two were hunters?”

“They are. Their dad, John, hunted with your parents.” Bobby answered. Sam and Dean glanced at each other when you didn’t say anything for a long while and the mood seemed to plummet abruptly.

“Thanks for letting me stay Bobby.” You said quietly after several minutes. Bobby nodded and grunted something gruffly as he kept his attention on the tv.

**********************

“So that was weird right?” Dean asked as he fidgeted on the air mattress Bobby had put out for him. Normally he and Sam would have gotten to take turns in the spare bedroom that had started becoming infected with more and more books over the years. The room was yours now which meant the five games of rock paper scissors before driving down was a waste of time.

“I guess. I asked Bobby and he said that (Y/N)’s parents were killed on a hunt two years ago. He promised to look after (Y/N) they’ve been getting more and more careless apparently Rufus happened to find their car totalled and a werewolf nearly got them. (Y/N) was lucky Rufus had even picked up the case. That was the last straw for Bobby.” Sam said as he rolled over on the sofa. He was regretting calling dibs on the sofa now, seeing as he couldn’t get comfortable.

“Well that sucks. Hunting alone is pretty hard. I guess it’s good that Bobby’s looking out for them.” Dean said as he finally found a comfortable spot.

“Yeah, I guess it is. Bobby said we could stay until the next case or when we feel like we need to get going, apparently a bunch of demon activity has kicked up all over.” Sam said through a yawn as he turned on his side. He could just make out Dean in the dark, who must have fallen asleep, sprawled on his stomach.

The smell of fresh coffee woke Dean hours later. It was pretty light outside so he must have slept in. He could hear Sam and Bobby talking and laughing in the kitchen. “Morning.” He grumbled as he shuffled into the room. He took a seat next to you. After a quick glance he realised you were barely awake, curled up on one of the wooden dining chairs with your chin propped on your knee as you lazily shoved food into your mouth.

“I think I found a case not too far away. Only thirty minutes. I might go and check it out if you boys are up for it?” Bobby offered as he set a plate in front of Dean.

“I need to get those parts into the Impala but maybe Sammy will go with you?” Dean offered as he shoved a mouthful of pancake and bacon into his mouth.

“Sam! And yes, I can go with you. But Dean really needs to sort the car. If he hears that imaginary rattling again, he’ll go crazy.” Sam teased and Dean rolled his eyes.

“It’s not imaginary Sam! I hear it when we change gears and…”

“Maybe if you didn’t drive so fast it wouldn’t squeak.” Sam said playfully as he set his dishes in the sink. “You want to tag along, (Y/N)?”

“No, I’m going to sort the stuff in my room. Bunch of guns and some books. All my stuff is still boxed up.” You said through a yawn as you handed Bobby your empty plate.

“Well hey, if you want some help with the books before we get going, I can give you a hand?” Sam offered. Dean shot him a suspicious look and Sam shrugged. 

“Sure I guess. I can’t even read some of the titles.” You answered while standing up and stretching.

“So what’s the deal with them?” Dean asked as soon as you’d left the kitchen and headed up the stairs.

“(Y/N) lost their whole family.” Bobby explained briskly.

“Yeah, Sammy said. But the attitude?” Dean asked irritably and Bobby sighed.

“(Y/N)’s parents were good hunters, found a lot of stuff that’s helped a lot of hunters. The only person that they didn’t get one with was John after they had a falling out. Didn’t like how he was raising you two so they walked away. They only died two years ago, their grandparents were hunters and they had taken (Y/N) in for a year. They’re gone too. Went to stay with an uncle and. It’s just (Y/N). It’s not like hunters set up playdates for their kids. (Y/N) just has me and Rufus now.” Bobby explained bluntly. Dean sighed and frowned.

“Nice to know you weren’t the only one trying to get me to play baseball.” Dean muttered as he downed his water and left the table to head out to the Impala.

“It’s great that you took (Y/N) in Bobby. We appreciated it, when you did it for us.” Sam said awkwardly. Bobby nodded and muttered something under his breath.

******************

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Sam asked as he knocked on your door. You opened it and Sam raised his eyebrows. “Wow, the book problem had gotten worse.”

“Yeah, hasn’t it. This room used to be nearly empty when it came to books.” You answered as you let him in. He chuckled as you led him to the largest pile of books that was more a wall than a pile. “You think you could help me move these downstairs. I figured I can organise the books and learn the phones for Bobby, since he’s taking me in.”

“Yeah. I can totally help you with that!” Sam said a little too eagerly. He winced. Bobby seemed to hope that you would hit it off with him and Dean. Sam knew what you were going through and had wanted to try and help, even if it was just hanging around with you. Bobby was right, even when he was hunting with Dean, hunting could get lonely. He couldn’t imagine how it must feel to have lost so much so quickly.

“Maybe if we just start with taking all the books to the living room, we could organise them by the area that the lore comes from… maybe?” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Sam said and you smiled, nodding as the two of you started shifting books. By the time half of the books had been moved, you were opening up to Sama  little more. Swapping hunt stories seemed to be the ticket to getting you to talk. Once he’d cracked you, it didn’t stop.

“Sam you ready?” Bobby asked as you and Sam carried down another load of books. He glanced at you and you nodded.

“I’m good. Sam figured a way to categorize so I should be able to finish sorting the books in my room by myself.” You insisted and smiled at Bobby who looked a bit relieved that you’d taken to Sam.

“Dean will be here manning the phones, looks like it should be a quick hunt, a day or too.” Bobby explained and you nodded.

“You can call if you need us.” You answered cheerfully as you playfully punched Sam’s arm before turning back to the latest, muddled, pile of books.

#Sam Winchester #dean winchester #bobby singer #supernatural #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader

[ravenbrenna09]

ideal seizoen vier: aflevering drie

main: Robbe IJzermans

clip one (zaterdag): robbe wakes up in his room at his mama’s house to find that the other side of the bed is empty. but, unlike last time, he’s not anxious and nervous about it. robbe climbs out of bed and grabs a shirt from the floor and puts it on—it’s sander’s—before heading out of his room and downstairs. in the kitchen, he finds his mother with sander, drinking a cup of coffee, and his mother teases him about being a late riser. when her back is turned, robbe kisses sander and mumbles about sander being an early riser. robbe’s mom asks how he slept and robbe says that he slept good (before giving a look to sander when her back is turned and sander laughs silently). as sander goes to help mama ijzermans, robbe’s phone goes off... it’s a text from his father asking about potentially going to dinner. robbe ignores the messages and follows them into the dining room. 

clip two (zondag): after robbe’s mom has already gone to bed, as her medication making her more sleepier at night, robbe is doing his homework when his cell phone rings. robbe reaches for it, half expecting it to be sander—as he’s been busy because of a big project recently—and finds that it’s his father again. letting out a breath, robbe answers the phone and his father asks if he would be interested in going to dinner with him on Thursday. robbe says that he isn’t sure, saying that he has a busy week, before saying that he’ll get back. papa ijzermans sounds disappointed but doesn’t push robbe. robbe ends the call, letting out a sigh and running a hand over his face. 

clip three (maandag): at school, robbe, yasmina, and zoë are talking about an assignment in one of their classes. zoë is trying to find a partner but robbe and yasmina are already partners. while zoë is disappointed, she wonders if amber has a partner. as the two girls are talking, robbe gets a text from sander, who is apologizing for falling asleep on him in their late-night call. robbe teases him, saying that he missed watching him sleep, and sander promises to make it up to him later that night. after robbe sends a text asking what he means, he glances up to find that yasmina and zoë are looking at him. the girls tease him about sander, making him flush, and zoë hugs him as she tickles his side.

clip four (maandag): during their lunch break, the boys are sitting in the courtyard together and talking about their classes. as moyo starts talking about potential vlog videos, robbe mentions that he just got a new camera and he can help out. jens asks if he’s sure and robbe nods, saying that he was always better behind the scenes and everything. the group talks about potentially filming a vlog later after school. as the others are talking about the specifics of what they’re doing, robbe’s phone goes off. it’s another text from his dad, asking if robbe has thought about dinner. robbe ignores it but jens notices the frustrated look on his face.

clip five (maandag): after school, robbe heads to the skate park with his new camera to film the vlog. as moyo and aaron are talking about what they might actually do the specifics of as they’re doing tricks, jens goes over to robbe and asks if everything is okay. robbe says that he’s fine and jens sends him a look, reminding him that he’s robbe’s best friend and knows when something is wrong. he asks if it’s something with sander. robbe shakes his head and says that it’s his dad. he keeps asking him if he wants to go out dinner. jens questions if he wants to go out to dinner with him and robbe admits that he doesn’t know. before jens can question further, moyo and aaron come up, interrupting the conversation.

clip six (dinsdag): after school, robbe comes home to find that his mama is sitting at the dining room, presumably waiting for him. she admits that his father called her earlier to ask about robbe coming to dinner, saying that robbe has dodged his calls. robbe sighs and says that he didn’t want his father to reach out to her. robbe’s mama tells him to sit down and asks why he hasn’t said that he’s going to go. when robbe stays quiet, she asks if it’s because of her and tells him that she won’t mind him having a relationship with his father. robbe says it isn’t it. he says that he doesn’t want to go because he doesn’t want to seem like he’s not still upset about what his father did—leaving them both—because he still is and, especially now that he’s dating sander, he can’t think of leaving him. he admits that he feels conflicted, trapped between wanting a relationship with him and wanting nothing to do with him. his mama says that she understands and says that he needs to decide what type of relationship that he wants with his father and says that she’ll support him whichever way he decides. 

clip seven (woensdag): late at night, robbe calls sander through facebook and smiles when sander immediately picks up. it’s obvious that sander has been hard at work with an art assignment with paint smeared on his cheek but robbe smiles all the same and asks how the project has been going. sander says that it’s almost done and mentions that he thinks he’ll be able to get it done before Friday afternoon so he can pick him up from school and robbe smiles, saying that he’s missed him. sander says that he’s missed him too, claiming their late night talks don’t cut it. robbe laughs, shaking his head as his boyfriend’s silliness, but sander seems to realize that there’s something going on and asks about it. robbe tells him about what’s going on with his father and asks what he should do. sander admits that he doesn’t fully know but he knows that his father’s trying to repair their relationship. robbe says that he’s the one that broke it in the first place and sander says that no one is perfect but that his father is trying to be better than before. robbe says he knows but mentions he’s still hurt. sander says that he knows but he doesn’t have to do anything until he’s ready. he can always say no. robbe smiles and questions what robbe would do without sander, who shakes his head and laughs. robbe asks if sander has to go and sander says he doesn’t, saying he wants to stay with robbe.

texts: robbe texts his dad, saying that he wants to go to dinner if he’s still up to go. his dad says that he’s always fine with going to dinner with robbe and asks him where they want to go. they decide on a place. his dad asks if robbe wants to bring sander and robbe says that sander has a big project this week. his dad asks robbe to wish sander luck for him.

clip eight (donderdag): robbe goes out to meet his dad. it’s at the same restaurant that they were supposed to meet at in season 3 and his father is already there, sitting at one of the tables. robbe locks up his bike before moving to the restaurant. he gets a notification on his phone and it’s sander, telling him good luck and promising to call him later to show him the finished project. robbe smiles before heading inside. his father sees him and waves him over. it’s obvious that his father is as nervous as robbe feels. for a few minutes, they sit in silence before his father asks about how sander’s project is going and robbe mentions that he thinks that sander’s about done. his father asks about school and the two fall into a peaceful conversation.

clip nine (vrijdag): after the school day is over, robbe runs towards the front of the building, leaving his friends behind at the lockers and eagerly runs into sander’s arms as he’s waiting outside the school. the two of them sway together with sander saying that he missed him before robbe kisses his boyfriend outside the school. sander pulls him closer to him before pulling back and asking them how dinner went. robbe says they talked about it last night and sander reminds him that robbe started talking about his project soon after. robbe laughs and says that it was better than he thought, mentioning that his father asked about him. sander smiles and mentions that he’s glad that it went good. robbe says that it didn’t feel like they were before his dad left but he was happy they were biting each other’s heads off or being a nervous wreck the entire time. sander says he’s glad before asking what robbe wants to do before senne’s party later that night. robbe mentions that he has some ideas and sander laughs before the two of them kiss again. the broerrrs leave the school and tease the two of them. sander flips them off as robbe shakes his head. the two of them walk away, promising to see them later at senne’s party. 

#wtfock #brennaseizoenvier #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #sobbe #zoë loockx #yasmina ait omar #okay we're done with the og mains now #time to spice things up #if all goes to plan the next main is in these gifs twice ;) #note: this was partially written so since ds is filming something else he would have minimum scenes to film #this is partially based on my father and i mending our relationship so i'm sorry if people don't agree #i know papa ijzermans and the other isaks fathers are always portrayed as bad #and i wanted to do something different #i wanted to finish this yesterday after the trash we were given yesterday but my brain was like 'no <3' #i traded a scene with milan in favor of the video call with sander because i felt like sander would help more #but it could also easily be switched for a in-person scene with milan if ds is busy #yo i feel like this is *wayyyyyy* longer than it was meant to be #brennaedits #brennawrites

[thotsforvillainrights]

Pitched idea?: Tomura, Dabi, Redestro and Nine's s/o end up giving birth to a daughter with a demon quirk. If you've seen ft, basically mirajane straus. Your page is amazing:D

(Making the reader Neutral as usual so I hope that’s okay! Oh and I’m very out of touch because I don’t know what mirajane straus is and I feel so old. I can’t believe being 24 years old is when I’d be old lmao. Anyway I also don’t know Redestro unless he’s that toll dude everyone explained to me a while back without spoilers so I’m sorry! Despite all this, I’m still gonna do my best to write this out for yah lol)

~Tomura/Dabi/Nine’s S/O and their Birthed/Adopted Daughter with Demon Quirk~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

~Shigaraki~

-Demon was supposed to be his little nickname given his affiliations and personality, but that all changed when his daughter’s quirk activated one rainy afternoon. Honestly it developed pretty late and you were both starting to think she was going to be quirkless. For you this was kind of a relief because you didn’t have to worry about the effects society would have on her if she wasn’t strong enough to become a hero. Meanwhile Tomura had hoped she’d get a quirk so he could help her train and hone her skills properly and much more gentle than he had to endure. Lucky for him, a quirk did show up. It happened all so quickly too. You and Shiggy were relaxing on the couch and watching a terrible horror movie together while your daughter was preparing for bed. It was pretty peaceful with the low TV volume, rain pattering on the rooftop, and the crackling of the candle burning on your coffee table. Suddenly you heard screaming and the sound of your daughter’s little feet pattering coming down the hallway. She quickly jumped up into you lap and began whining. “I was brushing my teeth when they turned sharp. What’s happening!?” It took a pretty good amount of time to explain to her that her quirk had shown up, but she understood just before settling to bed. Within the following days, her pupils changed, her horns grew in, her nails turned into little tiny claws, and very small wings appeared with a tail. At first it bothered her, but she became used to it all pretty soon!

~Dabi~

-As soon as her quirk manifested, Dabi forgot all about you! Okay so maybe that’s an overstatement, but it’s true. She was already a daddy’s girl to begin with, but this just cemented the deal. Dabi loves to pretend that he doesn’t care about many things, but he never really fakes his affections for his kid. These days he spends more time documenting her little quirk journey than he does with you on a date lol. Every little thing has become special to him. Nothing can stop it either. At one point the two of you were getting down to business (whatever that may be) when she came running into the room. “Daddy look!!!” She balled up her tiny S/C fists and grunted as her little wings flapped rapidly. She could only get about 3 or 4 inches off the ground before getting tired and falling back to her feet. “Oh Holy shit! Do it again, wait! Lemme grab my phone!” You laugh and shake you head at this odd enthusiasm from him. Even though he’s become more invested in being a dad lately, you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

~Nine~

-Really feels bad about it tbh. He knows first hand how bad society can get when it comes to quirks. He’s worried she would face discriminations if it were either too strong, or too weak. He preferred if she was just quirkless altogether to begin with. She’d still have to deal with the pressures of the world, but it would be a lot less worse if she didn’t have a quirk. Surely enough, she developed one anyway! While you and her were ecstatic, Nine was sent into panic mode. He was already an overprotective father to begin with, but he just ended up getting a lot worse when she developed this quirk. He was juggling full time with teaching her to use it, and with preaching anti-bullying. Thing is...she wasn’t even being bullied! In fact, she was the first in her class to develop her quirk so all the other kids thought she was amazing. She got plenty of positive attention on the daily, so you need to sit down and explain that Nine is taking things out of control. Of course he’s probably not going to listen to you at first. He’s also the helicopter parent out of the two of you. He would be up at that school every single day if it were allowed. Finally your daughter puts her own tiny feet down to stop him. “Daddy, please stop being scared. I’m okay.” She smiles up at him with those big E/C eyes sparkling and maybe he considers his behavior for just this once. What can you say? Nine loves his little demon.

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

Instagram: @pastelbattydraws & @pastelbattystore

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRNMJH7vHL7APNobUykhK4w?view_as=subscriber

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha shigaraki #tomura shigaraki #shigiraki tomura #shigaraki tomura #bnha dabi #Dabi #touya todoroki #nine #bnha nine #heroes rising #bnha heroes rising #lov #league of villains

[collecting-stories]

Thanksgiving - ep. 04 - Georgia

Summary: It’s Thanksgiving in King County and you won’t let Daryl celebrate alone. 

A/N: I’m really going for the slowburn this time. 

Georgia Masterlist | The Walking Dead Masterlist

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

“Nice backpack,” Rick laughed, picking the bright yellow backpack up from the lawn chair.

“It ain’t mine.” He shrugged, lighting up a cigarette.

Rick had come over for beers. An odd night off from work without the academy in the morning he had decided to stop ‘round at Daryl’s. It was already dark out when he’d pulled up outside his best friend’s house and Daryl was working on a jeep by the light of the carport. When he walked up he’d spotted the backpack sitting there, an odd contrast to anything else lying around.  

“Didn’t think it was.” Rick replied, “so who’s the girl?”

“Don’t know what yer talkin’ ‘bout.”  

“There’s a Jeep in your driveway and some girl’s backpack in your truck.” Rick pointed out, “you know, I’m a cop, I’m trained to notice these things.”

“Ya ain’t a cop yet.” Daryl muttered, heading over to the fridge and grabbing a beer.  

“So?”

“I’m fixing someone’s car and she left her bag. That’s all.”  

Daryl had realized that you left your backpack there after he drove you home on Sunday night. He’d gotten all the way back home when he saw your bright yellow backpack sitting on the floor of his truck. He had called you when he got inside. He felt stupid, standing in the kitchen with the phone pressed to his ear, waiting for you to answer like he was some dumb high school kid.  

You had answered after the second ring, “Hello?”

“Hey...it’s Daryl, ya left yer bag in my truck.”  

“Oh my gosh...I totally did, didn’t I? I'm so sorry.”  

“It’s alright. Ya want me ta drop it off?” He asked.  

“Are you at the garage tomorrow morning? Glenn is driving me to school, we could stop and I could grab it?” You asked, unsure how else you were going to get the backpack. You couldn’t leave now that you were home or your mom would get suspicious. She knew Maggie was grounded and there was no way she’d let you out after dark to hang out with Glenn or Tara or Rosita.  

“Yeah I’ll be there.”  

Somehow the bright yellow monstrosity had ended up back in Daryl’s possession. It wasn’t much of a mystery though. You had stopped, just like you said you would, before school in the morning. While you were there you had mentioned getting the second payment to him that afternoon. Part of that agreement somehow involved driving you from school to the diner where your bag had once again been forsaken in his truck.  

Now he had to figure out how to get it to you all over again and Rick was trying to rifle through it. “Would ya quit that?” Daryl grumbled, grabbing the bag and putting it back in his truck. He had set it on the chair so he didn’t forget it but Rick was bothering him.

“I just wanna know who she is,” Rick replied. “College student.”

“I told ya I’m just fixing a car.”  

“Please tell me she’s at least 18 D.”

“It ain’t like that.” Daryl slammed the truck door shut and glared at him, face flush at the accusation that he thought of you in a way that wasn’t just a client. “I’m fixing a car.”

“Alright.”

It had taken Rick getting a call from his mom to swing by for dinner to finally get him to leave Daryl’s house. Not that Daryl wanted to be rid of him, with Merle in prison for the next six months Rick was the only other friend he had. He did want to return your backpack though and he figured it was worth stopping at the diner to see if you were there. You were always telling him how you worked all the time and while he wasn’t sure if you really did or if you were exaggerating he thought it was worth a shot, plus he assumed you would need it for school. Axel, Tiny, Dale, and even T-Dog weren’t strangers to the diner but you had never seen Daryl come in before so you were surprised when you saw him walk through the door.  

“Hey!” When you saw the backpack in his hands you smiled, “I’m so sorry.”

“Ya say that but yer smiling." He replied, setting it on one of the stools and sitting down beside it.  

“I’m honestly sorry.” You insisted, though it wasn’t truthful in the slightest. All you could really feel was happy that he had gone out of his way to bring the bag back to you. “Can I get you anything? On the house.”

It was pretty dead at 9pm on a Monday night. Most people weren’t out so late in King County. Daryl took the menu off the counter and opened it, looking through the options. “I’ll have some coffee.”

“Okay,” you poured him a cup and went to give another patron their meal. When you came back Daryl was still looking through the menu. “Are you still free on Thursday?”

“Why?” He asked, “what’s Thursday?”

“Thanksgiving.”

“I got work in the morning.” He replied, “Probably won’t work on the car honestly.”

“No, I wasn’t asking for that. I was wondering if you wanted to come around for dinner. Patricia has a bunch of people at the diner for a big Thanksgiving dinner. Like the Greene’s and Dale usually comes.”  

“Yah, I don’t think so.” The last thing Daryl needed was to show up somewhere he knew he wouldn’t be welcome. He knew the invitation was innocent, you were just trying to be nice, but he didn’t need to embarrass himself by hanging around more than he was welcome.

“Okay, well, if you change your mind I’m making apple pie.”

-

Unsurprisingly, Daryl did not change his mind. He spent his thanksgiving the way he did every year, drinking beer and watching the game on TV because it was all that was on. Will bailed on anything Thanksgiving related almost as soon as he woke up, leaving for a bar over in Woodbury. Daryl had grilled a steak but otherwise he had skipped out on dinner.  

He was almost asleep on the old laz-e-boy when a knock on the side door startled him awake. Rick never stopped by on Thanksgiving and there was only one other person he could think of that would come by his house.  

“Ya know when someone declines an offer to see ya that don’t mean ya need to come by.” He said, leaning in the door and blocking you from coming inside. You looked kind of adorable, a corduroy brown pinafore dress and cream turtleneck.  

“I know but I come bearing apple pie.” You bartered, holding up the wrapped up pie dish.  

“A’ight, come on.” Daryl moved aside to let you in.

“That was easier than I thought.”  

“I know ya well enough ta know ya ain’t just gonna leave if I ask.”

“You are correct.” You smiled. You eyed the beer cans sitting on the coffee table, “having a party?”

“Something like that.” He took the pie dish from you and set it on the coffee table before heading into the kitchen in search of clean utensils. You sat down the couch, looking around the Dixon’s home. The TV was sitting on an entertainment system that looked seconds from falling apart, the carpet was stained with cigarette ash and other substances.  

“This is...”

“Its a piece a shit.” Daryl replied, walking into the living room and sitting down beside you. “How was yer Thanksgiving?”

“It was alright...Maggie’s not talking to her dad so that was kinda awkward. I sat at the kids table with Beth and Sean.” You said, “better than sitting with the adults. Anyway, I told you I was making pie and I didn’t want you to miss out because, honest to god, I make the best apple pie in Georgia.”

Daryl nodded, more interested in the pie than in who you sat with at dinner. The last time he had apple pie he was probably seven and his mom had bought it premade from the grocery store because he had begged for it. “Ain’t got anything to weigh it against.” He finally said, scooping up some with his fork and taking a bite.  

You held your fork in your hand, waiting for a reaction. Daryl had terrible eating habits. He ate too fast and didn’t pay attention to whether the food was going completely in his mouth all the time. Growing up in a house with Merle and Will hadn’t exactly instilled strong table manners in him. Mostly they ate their meals at the TV, on fold out tables or the coffee table or he ate in the camper away from his dad. The last time they used a kitchen table it had been in their old house before his mom died.  

“Good?” You chanced while he ate.  

He hummed around a mouthful. You took a bite and smiled. Last year you had almost messed it up with the wrong apples but this year it was perfect.  

“Yer good at this.”

“Baking?”

“Yeah. Can’t cook anything if it ain’t on a grill.”

“You might be able to make an apple pie on a grill...I’ve never tried.” You teased and he smiled just enough that you caught it.

“Where do your parents think you are?” He asked, getting up and grabbing a beer from the kitchen fridge.

“Tara’s. Can I have one?”

“No.”

“Oh come on. I’m almost 18.”  

“I ain’t giving ya alcohol. Last thing I need is some girl going home drunk from here.” He replied.  

“I won’t be drunk! I can drink like, a whole case of Zima before I get drunk.”  

“That shit���s disgusting.”

“Oh I’m sorry, your Pabst is so great.” You sassed. Daryl rolled his eyes and held the can out to you, the one he’d just been drinking from. You took it, downing as much of a gulp as you could stand and imagining that you could maybe taste him on it. But the taste of the cheap beer won out and you nearly gagged as it went down, “that’s disgusting.”

“Gets ya drunk.”

“Are you?”

“Right now, no.” Though he wasn’t totally sober. If he was he would have never let you in his house. “Most a those are my dad’s. Had ‘em ‘fore he left for the bar.” He said, dropping onto the couch beside you.  

“I think this is the most we’ve ever had a conversation.” You pointed out.  

Daryl nodded and grinned, “maybe I am drunk.”

-

The next morning, as Daryl stepped out of the 7-11 with a pack of cigarettes and a coffee, he caught sight of you standing at the driver’s side of his truck and fixing your hair in the sideview mirror. You had stayed longer than you intended the night before; long enough that you had to call Glenn to pick you up because Daryl refused to drive you home after drinking.  

“Ya gonna pump my gas for me.” He asked and you spun around, smiling.

“I can. But it’ll cost you.”

“I’ll tell ya what,” Daryl picked up the gas nozzle and placed it in the truck, trapping you between him and the hose, “I’ll give ya the pie plate back.”

“Deal.” You turned slightly and reached for the nozzle, putting your hand over his, “but I’m only doing this because my mom already asked about the pie plate. Now move it, this is my job.”

You caught the slightest smile as he pulled his hand away and held them both up in mock surrender. He leaned against the driver’s door and took a sip of his coffee while he watched the numbers on the screen. “Ya working today?”

“Yeah, Lori wouldn’t clock me in early cause she’s on some power trip. Patricia left her in charge and she said I was trying to steal hours from Amy, she’s new, but I’m not. I don’t care about Amy or her hours.” You replied.

“Yes or no woulda worked.” He teased.

“I’m gonna think of the most long winded ways to answer your questions from now on. Just to annoy the hell outta ya.”  

“Ya already do.”  

“I do not! You love hanging out with me.”

He hummed and reached around you to grab the nozzle, clicking off the handle so the gas flow would stop but keeping you trapped. “There ya go. Pie plate is yours.”

“Thanks.”

He was slow to step away, almost reluctant, “I’ll see ya ‘round.”

“Okay.”

-

Taglist: @gigilame @sabertooth-potato @enrapturedbythemoon @oncemorewithfeelingg @cbarter @onemorebeautifulnightmare  @mainokutan @qrangr  @twdeadfanfic @hopesxxhigh @coffeebooksandfandom @jodiereedus22 @tehfabbooty @thecaptainsgingersnap @of-storms-and-sadness @twdeadfanfic @alwaysadreamingoptimist @bucky-barnes-babies @ly--canthrope @daryldixonandfrogs @jaycc7983 @easnuppa @imaginecrushes @tonystarkismyboy @watchmeaspire @harpersmariano @cathwritestragediesnotsins

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon au #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl imagine #daryl fanfiction #daryl fanfic #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fic #the walking dead fanfiction #The Walking Dead AU #twd au #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd imagine #twd fic #georgia series #collecting stories imagine