#and i had to explain to my kid that we aren’t going to correct grandpa | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

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Okay, so I wanted to get this out, like twelve hours ago, buttttt Tumblr is having issues with me today and it wouldn’t let me. So anyways, better late than never!

This is a Christmas-y oneshot, set years Post-Mockingjay, with their first toastbaby. It’s completely canon-complacent and focuses on their lives and family after the war. It got way longer than I intended. Actually, originally, it was meant to be a Thanksgiving oneshot but uh... I took too long so it’s not Christmas. Only they call it Yuleday here, because I can’t imagine Panem calling it Christmas, idk why. Anyways, please read and enjoy!

Oh yeah, and thank you @rosegardeninwinter for writing the song Katniss sings to her daughter in here!

Summary : Everlark spend Yuleday with their daughter and the rest of their blended family.

The sticky vanilla liquid drying against the counter clings to my forearm. I wrinkle my nose slightly, the smell of vanilla too strong for my liking.

No, I prefer the smells of cinnamon and pine and fresh baked bread, I think to myself, as I watch my husband slip on a oven mitt and pull out a new loaf.

The kitchen is much messier than Peeta typically allows it to get, but he didn't have the time this week he anticipated he would to bake for our family's impending visit.

I lean unconsciously closer to the baked good, my mouth already watering at the sight. "Katniss," Peeta warns while he places a cake pan inside the oven, his voice growing stressed. "Be careful of the door." He gestures with his chin to the white-hot contraption just inches from my legs.

I roll my eyes at his fretting and pick up a piece of bread from a loaf we never finished last week. "Don't worry, I've been married to a baker for a while," I reply coyly as he begins to stir white, creamy homemade frosting around in a bowl. "I'm used to getting burned every so often."

It's his turn to send me a look now. "Yeah, because you forget to put a mitt on when touching the rack."

"Hmm, funny, my husband said at the time it was his fault for not warning me how hot it was," I shoot back as I dig my finger into the frosting bowl and pop the sugary substance into my mouth.

"That's sanitary," he deadpans and pushes me away from his workspace playfully.

"Oh, come on," I implore, pressing my hands against his chest as he tries to move me out of the kitchen and towards the living room. "Don't you ever sample your treats while making them?"

"No, Katniss," he replies, trying to remain serious but I see a smile peaking through. "Because I'm a professional."

I go to make a comment, pointing out every time before he's been less than professional in his workplace—with me, in particular. In the back room, with the most counterspace—when he leans down and plants a kiss on my lips. More than likely to shut me up.

"Yeah, this is sanitary," I tease against his mouth when we break apart ever so slightly.

Peeta leans back a little, keeping his chin still pressed against mine. "When have we ever cared about sanitary?"

I smirk up at him as his hands find my hips tenderly, his fingertips gliding underneath my shirt, touching the edge of my stomach. His lips find mine again or mine find his, but either way, in a matter of seconds I'm opening my mouth to let his tongue enter, eliciting a loud moan from him when my teeth graze his bottom lip.

"Mmm," he whispers when he pulls back again.

"Mmm?" I repeat, chuckling. "That's the best you can do?"

He tightens his arms around my waist, holding me to him. "I was about to say, I do enjoy taste testing my own frosting that way."

"Well, as long as you had a reason for invading my mouth."

"Like I said, I'm a strict professional."

Before I can reply back, there's a loud knock at our front door. Followed by another and then another, growing more noisy and cacophonous with the passing seconds.

Neither of us make a move to get the door. "Are you sure we have to invite Haymitch?" I inquire, my voice very serious.

"I believe I left that decision up to you, my love," Peeta replies cheekily, planting a small kiss on my nose.

"I can hear you two," Haymitch barks from the other side of the door before he knocks again, just as loud, and then rattles the doorknob. "Let me in, I'm freezing," he demands gruffly.

Peeta opens the door with a sardonic look, revealing our grouchy mentor and, at his feet, our tiny daughter, bundled up to keep from the cold. "Put a coat on, Haymitch."

"Why would I do that? I was coming here to sit by your fireplace all day anyway."

"Mommy!" Indigo shouts and races her chubby little legs in a beeline to me.

I scoop her up easily, having missed her for the entire forty-five minutes she was away from me. "Did you have a good time helping feed the geese?" I ask, in a tone I would have found absolutely embarrassing three years ago. I never even spoke to Prim in that tone.

"No, I hate them," she proclaims, very seriously, before laying her head against my shoulder exhaustedly. "They're very demanding cree-ters," she explains.

I nod, petting down her long, dark hair, moving it out of her little face, giving me access to the stunning blue eyes Peeta gave her. "They are very demanding creatures, aren't they?"

"But someone has to help Granpuh," she adds on the end, very matter-of-fact.

I shake my head at that, hoisting her higher on my hip. "I think Haymitch takes care of himself just fine, Indigo," I murmur sternly, as my old mentor passes by me, his eyes falling on the frosting bowl still sitting on the counter where we left it.

"Excuse me, Sweetheart. It's Grandpa to her," Haymitch corrects gruffly, pointing to my child.

Peeta hums as he leans against the doorframe, his shirt tightening up around his shoulders as he stretches his neck. "Katniss, remember when you were pregnant and Haymitch swore our kid wouldn't call him Grandpa?"

"I seem to remember that well."

"Yeah, well I seem to remember you saying no one is ever calling your daughter Indy and yet, here we are," the older man reminds me and all levity is gone from my face instantly, only to be replaced with irritation.

Three years ago when I gave birth, me and Peeta both agreed on the name Indigofera. Or, more like, he agreed because I liked the name.

I never expected to have a child. I spent majority of my life swearing I'd never procreate. The world I grew up in, the only world I knew, was nowhere I'd allow a child to grow up in. Not if I had any control of over.

Not when every year from the age of twelve to eighteen, my child could be stolen from me, could be taken away and tossed into a dressed up cage, forced to fight to the death, likely die on national television.

I'd never allow my child to live in that world.

That sentiment only grew stronger once a child of my own was no longer just a vague image, but a living, breathing, loud little being.

The idea of my Indigofera being subjected to the world I knew, the world that fell apart almost twenty years ago now, is beyond devastating to me.

I still wonder sometimes how Peeta ever was able to convince me to have a child.

As I think of him, he's right beside me, saying something quippy to Haymitch, before pulling Indigo out of my arms and unzipping her coat. I watch on at their exchange as she puts her tiny little hands on his cheeks, telling him happily about her time with Granpuh and the geese. I watch as Peeta's eyes brighten when he looks at her, I watch as she smiles more and more with his encouraging nods, prodding her to keep talking. I watch as she squeals out and laughs when he tickles her and kisses the side of her face.

And I still wonder, how on earth he convinced me to have a child.

But I'm thankful every day he did, from the bottom of my heart. That little girl is the most important being in both our lives and, though I had no idea at the time, we were not complete without her.

"Daddy, I'm hungry," Indigo complains as he starts to pull away, very obviously intending to head back to the kitchen and finish up baking and frosting.

"We're going to eat once Grandma and the others gets here, Bean," I promise, stepping in to scoop her back up.

"They're so slow," Indigo says, with no shame or remorse in her voice for the blunt statement.

"Indigo," Peeta chides gently. "That's not a nice thing to say."

"It's kind of true," I add sheepishly after a moment, agreeing with our daughter.

My husband just rolls his eyes at me now. "You're a bad influence on her."

"Oh, give me a break, Peeta!" I exclaim defensively. "You gave her chocolate pancakes for breakfast today. I think you're the bad influence."

"I made them for you too, Katniss," he reminds me wryly.

"That's a little different-"

"Hello," Haymitch interrupts as he plops down on the sofa, his usual spot in our house. "Some of us would like to eat Yuleday Dinner tonight."

"And?"

"And that's not going to happen if we don't let the boy work, Sweetheart."

The boy. Haymitch never did get new nicknames for us, despite Peeta being a man, a husband and a father for quite some time now.

Peeta hauls Haymitch up by the arm from his seat. "If you're going to be in my house, you're going to help me with dinner," he says firmly and Indigo giggles against my neck, watching her daddy drag her grandpa into the kitchen.

Haymitch being grandpa was only ever meant to be a joke. Neither me nor Peeta ever intended for Indigo to actually view Haymitch Abernathy as her grandfather.

Though it makes sense. He's been a constant in our lives since we were sixteen. And even when me and Haymitch are at each other's throats, he still shows up here, sitting on the couch, expecting dinner, at least once a week. He regularly shows up at the bakery Peeta runs now almost entirely on his own, asking for free samples. And he still loves our daughter like his own flesh and blood.

The only true gripe I have about Haymitch and Indigo's relationship is the nickname Indy. I knew when we named her Indigofera, after the mysterious plant that my father used to jokingly say was about as real to us as unicorns—the color plant was all but extinct long before I was even born—that her natural nickname would be Indigo. Peeta himself says we gave her a mouthful of a name, choosing to go as far as adding in a middle name that we both lacked ourselves. But something about the nickname Indy is extremely unappealing to me.

And as her mother, as the person who grew her and carried her inside me, and loves her more than all the things in the world combined, I think I should have final say on what she's called.

I'm abruptly pulled out of my thoughts by a soft, little hand pulling my tangled hair. "Mommy, what time does Finn get here?"

Of course, that's who Indigo is focused on. It's not just my mother arriving today to join us for our Yuleday Dinner. It's everyone that me and Peeta consider family.

Including Annie and Finn, her child with the sensual, alluring, kind-hearted Finnick Odair. The child who has taken after his father in ways that seemed unimaginable.

Indigo knows, even at three-years-old, that we always treat Finnick's memory with respect. We never forget him or anyone else that ever helped us make the country a safe place.

Of course, she's too young to fully understand. What she understands is Finn, who at eighteen, has all his father's looks and charm, is her suto-cousin, is her playmate and brings her presents. And as far as I'm concerned, that's all she needs to understand.

"In an hour," I reply gently, bringing myself back to reality. Pushing her dirty hair back, I lean my nose against her's, letting my eyes grow bigger. "You know what that means?"

She lets out a loud shriek of excitement and all but kicks her way out of my arms. "Bath time!" She yells as she propels herself excitedly towards the stairs, going on all fours to struggle her way up independently.

I stay inches behind her, making sure I'm able to catch her if she should tumble, but the precaution isn't necessary. Indigo gets to the top stair and takes off running towards the bathroom down the hall.

"Lots of bubbles," Indigo commands in a very serious tone as she watches me pour a cap full into her bath water.

I remind myself for the thousandth time to send Effie a thank you note for bath bubbles she sent weeks ago. My old escort is one of the few people I haven't kept in close contact with over the years and it's no surprise really. Me and Peeta never stopped looking at the Capitol with disdain, perhaps even more so after the war, and Effie, even with a good heart deep inside, is Capitol, through and through.

But she's still sent sporadic gifts here and there over the years. She's still called Haymitch dozens of times since the end of the war. She's still kept her mouth shut about Indigo's existence for the last three years and for that, I am indebted to my old escort for life.

Peeta and I agreed early on in my pregnancy that Indigo would never be property of the Capitol. It didn't matter how much safer the world was now, or how many new faces have come along for people to fawn over in the last eighteen years, or how adorable Indigo is, we both vowed with everything we had that no one outside our family and friends and community would know of her birth. If I did anything in my life, it would be protect my child.

The way I failed to protect my sister.

Even almost twenty years later, the memory still stung. The image of my sister being blown apart, right before my eyes, is permanently ingrained in my mind. I still wake up from nightmares, reliving Prim's last moments alive before the bombs took her away forever.

But the once searing pain had faded into a dull ache, a deep imbedded hurt that never went away entirely but instead became a part of who I was.

I help Indigo into the tub and instantly get to work, washing her up as she splashes around and plays with her bubbles. Technically Effie sent them to me, along with a lot of other useless items that I all but threw out immediately, but they were better used for Indigo. Whereas I saw the impracticality in many of Effie's gifts, Indigo saw a new luxury, a new toy, a new activity or adventure she could have.

It's the Peeta in her. It's his appreciation for beauty that he passed down to our daughter.

I've told him countless times in the last few years that if she turns out to have a massive spending addiction or have desires to live a luxurious life, it's all on him.

"Alright, eyes shut," I warn dramatically, waiting for her to cover her big blue eyes with her tiny palms before dousing her head with water.

After she's dried and dressed she runs into the kitchen barefoot and immediately flings herself onto Peeta, gripping his prosthetic leg. "Daddy, look how clean I am!"

He chuckles as he finishes wiping the counter off before scooping her up. "Imagine how clean you could be every day if Mommy didn't take you to the woods to play in the dirt?"

He's teasing me and I know it, but I still shoot him a dirty look. "She gets dirtier in Daddy's kitchen than the woods."

"Dirty? From baking?" He directs the questions towards the three-year-old in his arms. "No!"

Indigo gives him a shy smile before a loud giggle escapes and nodding her head, affirming his point. "See," he points out, gesturing to her grinning face.

"Daddy is the bad influence around here," I say as I pull her from his arms.

"Only because Mommy corrupted me," he says back as he moves to grab the broom, the last step in his clean up routine before the rest of our guests arrive.

He leans around me and Indigo to grab the cleaning device, before not so subtly sneaking a kiss on his way back. I just look to our daughter and, indicating to her father with my chin, wrinkle my nose dramatically, causing her to laugh more.

"Mommy's mad at you," she informs him, finding this very humorous.

"Hmm, is she?" Peeta asks, as if he's shocked by the news.

"Yes," I affirm. "For implying I dirty my child, when it's you who covers her in flour and cake batter every other day."

"Oh, well, Indy, whatever will we do to gain Mommy's forgiveness?" He isn't gaining any sort of forgiveness from me by using her annoying nickname. Still he pretends not to notice my narrowing eyes, as if after eighteen years he doesn't know me like the back of his hand.

"Bake her somting!" She exclaims, clapping and excited again. She's always excited. I'm not even sure if she's mine some days with how enthusiastic this little human can be.

"Hmm, I could," he agrees, but then dramatically he gazes around the kitchen, as if seeing it for the first time. "You know what though? I just cleaned it all up in here. So I guess I can't bake Mommy something. I guess I'll have to try other methods."

As if he planned it the entire time—which, without a doubt, he did—Peeta leans in gently and starts pressing kisses to my skin, right where my jaw meets my neck. I resist at first and so his lips move upwards, towards my forehead, towards my nose and then my chin.

"Okay," I relent, laughing in spite of myself, batting him away. "Okay, you're forgiven." I reward him with a smile as he moves his lips from peppering my face to my mouth itself. He only gives me a chaste kiss, since I'm holding his daughter, but it's enough to make my stomach flip like it did on the beach, when we were seventeen.

We were also in a death match, neither of us intending to live through the following day, but that fact somehow has separated itself in the almost twenty years since the war from the moment between me and Peeta, and for that I'm grateful. I'm grateful for my mind compartmentalizing itself, for the horrors witnessed and forever printed inside my head somehow shifting away from specific moments in the games, moments I can now look back on more fondly than when I was seventeen.

I look at Peeta again then, as he gives me a sweet smile and turns away to start sweeping the floor, to rid it of the thick layer of flour split while baking, and I'm suddenly intensely grateful for the last eighteen years. I'm suddenly intensely grateful for the almost two decades he's given me, that had been the best years of my life.

Of course, the little squirming creature in my arms have only made the years better, and I kiss her face gently, murmuring softly, "Let me braid your hair," against her little pink cheek.

She obediently sits in front of me and starts humming as I comb the knots from the long dark locks she inherited from me. "What're you singing?" I ask, smiling, already knowing what song she's trying to hum.

"Bloo sky," she replies simply, before going back to humming again to herself. I smirk softly, waiting for her to ask me to take over.

And, of course, with the predictability of a three-year-old, Indigo turns around abruptly after a long moment of silence with a frazzled look overtaking her big blue eyes. "Mommy?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Can you sing bloo sky? I can't 'member all the words."

My smirk turns to a full on smile now, as I begin to twist her now soft and silky hair into a braid. "Don't let your mind be troubled, dear. Don't you get lost in fear. For through all the storm clouds and darkest days, I promise I will be here."

Indigo beams at me, tipping her head back to watch me sing before her own little voice, lisp and wrong words and all—though, I have inexpressible pride that her melody is perfectly on pitch—joins in with me.

"And a blue sky will come shining through. And a blue sky just for me and you," I sing as she accidentally says too instead of through. "Through all the storm clouds and darkest days, there's a blue sky for just me and for you," we finish.

"And for Daddy," Indigo suddenly asserts, like she forgot him until now.

I laugh gently. "Yes, but that won't fit the rhyme."

"What's a rhyme?"

"Nevermind, Indigo." I can barely hold back a chuckle as I finish her braid, tying it with the band around my wrist. Since she grew hair long enough to get caught on things, I've always made a special point in carrying extra hair ties for her, everywhere we go.

"Sweetheart, am I expected to go grab our guests in my car? Because I don't have enough room so someone's going to have to hang onto the bumper-"

"Don't worry, Haymitch," I cut off, laughing again, at the image of him attempting to gather up our blended family and friends in what he refers to as a car. "And I didn't miss you saying our guests," I add, turning away from my child to give him a look.

"I helped the boy clean the kitchen, I get to take ownership over the guests as well."

"Grandpuh?" Indigo's little voice peeps. "I wanna go for a ride before Finn gets here."

"Finn?" Haymitch picks. "Every person you've ever met is coming over today and it's Finn Odair you're excited to see?"

But Indigo adores—and I mean, adores—Finn and he's always been so good with her, more patient than any typical teenager is expected to be, and his arrival is all she's really thinking about.

"Haymitch, stop giving my daughter crap and take her for a ride in town," Peeta calls from the kitchen, evidently by the clanging noise, putting away the last of the dishes. "Hurry up too, I don't want her out there when the crowd comes in."

We never allow Indigo out into town during the busy times a day. During the times when the crowds, even here in the once decimated Twelve, grow too large for either Peeta or my liking. Too many opportunities for a stranger to grab her, too many chances for her to get lost, too many things could go wrong. Too many dangers exist for a three-year-old, even in this world that is miles better than the one we used to know.

Peeta and I do our best to put the past behind us, but we both still have times when the memories of war and bloodshed and cruelty creep in, and it's on those days all I can imagine is the world shifting again, some sort of disorder or disarray ruining the peace that will always feel foreign to me. It's on those days all I can see is the games coming back, is someone taking Indigo from me, putting her through what no child should have to endure, her sweet, little innocence being ripped away violently. Someone taking me or Peeta from her, her pure heart being hardened, the blue eyes that sometimes I swear I could see my sister in turning ice cold.

It's on those days I shut and lock the doors, I refuse to open the blinds, I refuse to let my daughter out of my sight. It's those days I beg Peeta not to run to the bakery, to just stay with us, to just not go where I can't see either of them.

It's on those days I plan what I will do if the world does fall to its knees again, if my worst fears when even thinking of the abstract idea of having a child come to life. I never tell anyone of these thoughts, but on the days Peeta has a flashback or can't sleep, on the days when he feels like he’s still seventeen, locked inside Snow's mansion, a tortured shadow of the wonderful boy with the golden heart, on the days he paints horrific images he'll never let our daughter see, I know he makes his own plan too.

As always, Indigo breaks me out of my thoughts as they run dark, jumping up excitedly, ready to go for a ride in Haymitch's car. It's actually more resemblant of a cart, with just room for three people if you squeeze, and no doors in sight. But she loves it and it makes her happy and after everything else, I know I can trust Haymitch with my child.

I fix her little green overall dress, straightening her dandelion patterned shirt underneath. "Don't let Haymitch get your dirty," I instruct very clearly.

"Yes, Mommy."

"And don't mess up your hair."

"Yes, Mommy."

"And don't be too long."

"Yes, Mommy."

"And don't talk to strangers."

"Okay, can I go already?"

Both Haymitch and Peeta laugh at me and it takes all my restraint not to say something profane in front of Indigo.

As soon as they leave, I get to work, helping Peeta straighten up the house before our guests arrive.

As I'm finishing fluffing and re-arranging the pillows, two warm hands come into contact with my waist. "Excuse me, sir, I'm working right now."

Peeta's arms wrap entirely around me now, his lips on my neck. "Don't worry, I know the boss. She'll... understand."

"Will she?" I cock an eyebrow at him teasingly.

He nods confidently. "She rather enjoys activities such as these."

I'm about to coyly ask what activities he's implying when his lips trail up further, finding residence closer and closer to my mouth.

His lips have just contacted mine when I whisper breathlessly, unable to stop myself, "the second our daughter leaves, you just can't help yourself."

His kiss turns to a laugh. "She does tend to take up a lot of the bed space. We have to catch these opportunities for us when we can."

I chuckle in response, because it's true. As much as we both love our child—more than words could ever say—lately, her fear of sleeping in her room down the hall has meant we've gained a new, invasive bedmate.

"That we do," I agree, smirking now as I fiddle with his sky blue collar that matched his eyes. "I see had a wardrobe change."

"Mhmm. Thought I would look nice for Yuleday."

"Is there someone special you're expecting to see? Someone you want to dress up for?" I tease, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my lips to the center of his chest, right at my eye level.

"There is, actually," he affirms slyly. "Two people, in fact. Both women. One a little smaller than the other. Both have dark hair and loud voices—"

"Excuse you?"

"Both have me wrapped entirely around their fingers," he adds, full on smiling now.

"Good save," I retort, about to turn away when I feel his hands grip the underside of my thighs and hoist me up against him.

I pretzel myself around his body, unable to help the girlish noise of surprise that slips out as he holds me in his arms. "We only have maybe ten minutes until Indigo and Granpuh," he imitates his three-year-old, but his nose teasingly presses against mine and his voice is very suggestive, "come back. We should... make the most of it... before we have to entertain guests all day."

I return the glint his eyes, my desires in line with his. Our lips meet halfway in the minimal space still remaining between us, and we waste no time before our tongues begin to intertwine, twirl and gently twist.

I feel his hand sliding up my ratty, torn shirt, just barely crossing over my stomach to my ribs when a knock at the door suddenly catches us off-guard.

"Haymitch isn't usually back this fast," I say as Peeta—very reluctantly—sets me down.

But as soon as the words slip from my lips, a thousand thoughts race through my mind.

What if Haymitch had lost Indigo somehow, in the crowd that always grows large on Yuleday? What if someone took my baby? What if she's scared and can't find me and I don't even know it yet because I let an old drunk man take her out of my sight? What if she fell out of Haymitch's cart and smacked her head on the town's icy cobblestones? What if the car spun out and hit a tree and now one of our neighbors is coming to tell us the grave news?

I'm holding my breath, my heart suddenly beating a million miles a second, as my husband pulls open the door.

Behind the door is not Haymitch nor a random member of our community. It's Delly. Delly Cartwright-Bagley and her husband and three children in tow.

A half hour early.

I can't help the reaction that slips from my lips, the stress of my fears overpowering my filter. "Would it have killed you to show up on time?"

Peeta shoots me a look but I ignore him. Delly however is unfazed by my irritation. As is her husband, Kanon.

"Happy Yuleday, Katniss!" Delly beams and pushes her plate of frosted cookies into Peeta's hands to hug me tightly. "And we only showed up early because your husband invited us to," she adds, talking too loudly into my ear.

My eyes narrow at Peeta but he's clearly just as unhappy with himself, since now our plans have been interrupted.

"I said they could come early and help," Peeta defends slightly, just as Delly's husband notices the button I must have unknowingly undid.

"Mmm, well you two could go upstairs while we finish getting everything ready for the rest of the guests," Kanon teases, ruffling Peeta's conspicuously tousled hair as he leads the three young ones inside from the cold.

Delly pulls back from me then and leads her eldest, Evelyn Malia Bagley—but, much like with Indigofera, is known solely by Evie—to the kitchen, with a high level of familiarity.

The confidence inside my house is only natural at this point, considering the relationship with our family and Delly's has grown much closer than I ever could have anticipated.

Delly is Peeta's childhood best friend, and therefore after the war she was one of the biggest supporters and greatest confidants to him in his darkest hours. The times I couldn't do anything, because I was the source of his fear, of his anger or his pain.

Or rather, Snow made him believe I was.

Delly's presence in Peeta's life was far more helpful than any over the phone therapist could have ever been, and for that I am eternally grateful. However, I never expected her to be a close friend to me as well.

Begrudgingly on my part some days, but it was fact. If I ever needed anything, if I was having a hard time, if I ever wanted to talk with someone besides Peeta—which is rare but happens every so often—I'm still shocked to realize Delly Cartwright-Bagley is one of the first people I'll turn to. I’m still shocked to realize the girl who once had baby fat and yellow hair, who sat two rows ahead of me in school and chewed her bubblegum obnoxiously loud, is one of my closest companions.

She's surprisingly more understanding and wise underneath her overly perky personality and boisterously loud voice.

And, of course, the man she married also helps the equation. Kanon is a kind, tall man, a few years older than the rest of us. He's rather quiet but will poke a joke at someone he knows well enough. He's hardworking and loyal and intuitive.

He's the exact opposite of Delly, which sounds like it should be a recipe for disaster but in reality has proven to be a wonderful occurrence in everyone's life.

After all, we all let out a sigh of relief when she could quit working at the medicine factory.

For all of Delly's good qualities—and there are a great many—she's not exactly an ideal factory worker. Or manual laborer. Or cleaning personnel.

When Delly took over operating the counter at Kanon's Candy Store, which unlike the bakery, is more of a novelty than an essential, everything sort of fell into place.

"Aunt Katty!" I hear a small voice shriek, pushing her older brother out of the way to sprint into my arms.

I barely have time to catch little Kendall, Delly's youngest child before she’s flung herself onto me with a force only her mother could have matched.

"Hi, Sweetie," I all but coo, disgusting even myself a bit.

I hug her almost as tightly as she hugs me, and I intentionally ignore Peeta's smirk in my direction.

Okay, so I'm not the most subtle about having a favorite out of Delly's litter. But Kendall is only three months different in age than my Indigo, so I have the excuse of spending the most time with the little wild, rambuctious thing.

Although my child is by far the ringleader in their friendship. A fact I try not to think of too often, as I could easily imagine a multitude of things Indigofera could get into if I don't keep a close eye on her.

"Where's Indy?" Kendall asks as I cart her to the kitchen. She's the only one I let that nickname slide with.

"She went for a ride with Haymitch."

Speaking of my child only increases my anxiety for her whereabouts. I suddenly regret letting my old mentor take her at all, as my gut continues to constrict painfully, thinking of every scenario in which she could be taken away from me. Forever.

My only job, the only one I truly cannot live with the idea of failing, is keeping my daughter safe.

I failed once before to protect someone I loved more than my own life. Twice, I correct myself, looking at Peeta, who's now guiding five year old Rhys by hand to the kitchen.

I cannot fail Indigofera, like I failed both Prim and Peeta.

Delly senses the tension building inside of me as I come to stand beside her, Kendall still on my hip. "Haymitch would never let Indigo get hurt," she says without preamble. To her credit though, she says it quieter than her typical range of volume. "C'mon. It's his granddaughter."

The four of us laugh, the fact that a little person with giant blue eyes and a constant pair of messy braids is what entirely melted Haymitch Albernathy's heart still laughable three years later.

I let Kendall down and watch as she and her siblings begin to set the table dutifully, with more order and structure than I had at their age.

I feel the everlasting anxiety that's making a permanent home inside my gut suddenly release, like a knife being pulled out of a stab wound, as Indigo's voice fills the room.

"Mommy!" She yells, racing into the kitchen as fast as her little legs can carry her. "Look at what Gamma Sae gave me," she exclaims, holding up a stuffed bear for me to see.

I don't acknowledge the toy or her hair that's coming out of the braid I only just did, or even the grass stain on her dandelion patterned shirt. I just yank her up into my arms and squeeze her tight.

I should be ashamed of myself, that my three-year-old knows when I've worried or been in distress over her, but all I am is awed when she lays her little head on my shoulder and whispers softly, "I'm okay, Mommy. Granpuh wouldn't let anything hurt me."

There is an awkward pause in the room for a moment, only noticeable to the adults. I don't know if it's because they understand my anxiety—Peeta, at least, typically does—or if it's because they think I'm insane, but no one speaks until Indigo shuffles herself downwards and immediately tackles Kendall, excitedly showing her the stuffed animal Greasy Sae gave her.

Delly, as per usual, breaks the silence. "You know, if you two ever want to finish the... activity you were engaged in when we showed up, I will gladly take care of Indigo for an afternoon."

I roll my eyes, long past the point where Delly could make me blush with her innuendos. "I'll keep that in mind."

Peeta is chuckling as he finishes drying off a now clean cooking bowl. "You're a more appealing babysitter than Haymitch," he says, his eyes falling on the older man, who's standing with the kids now, not-so-subtly keeping closer to Indigo, as he isn't too fond of most children in general.

"You sure we wouldn't be ruining your fun?" I tease now, looking at Kanon, who's arranging the cookies they brought onto a different plate.

"Katniss, we have three kids," Delly all but deadpans. A rarity for her. "All under eight years old. One more won't make a difference."

Kanon speaks up then as me and Peeta snicker. "We also learned to be faster," he adds slyly, looking directly at me. "The joy of having a few kids. Makes you a better multi-tasker."

"I so miss when you used to be quiet," I say in a monotone as the doorbell, that no one uses, unexpectedly rings.

"Peeta, how many people did you invite early?" I snap.

He holds up his hands defensively. "No one else, I swear."

"Sure."

But when I open the door, revealing my mother, Annie and Finn, I know he's got to be telling the truth. He wouldn't have invited my mother early for anything. The tension that existed years ago is all but gone—especially since Indigo's birth, the event that drew us closer than we had been since I was a child—but still, Peeta remains cautious. When it comes to my mother, he leaves her visitation completely up to me.

Her husband, Rod Marin, doesn't attend our celebration however. I don't know if it's the chilly reception he may or may not receive from me, or if it's the fact that my mom doesn't want to bring Rod's daughters with them, but either way, she has attended our home alone for the last five years and, as selfish as that may be, I prefer it this way.

Still, I greet her warmly. "Hi, Mom," I say as she hugs me tightly.

"Sorry we're a little early, honey," she professes as she steps into the house that was once her home too.

"That's fine," I assure, even though I'm not dressed or ready yet.

Annie is next and she instantly throws her arms around my neck. "I missed you," she murmurs in the sweet, gentle way she's always had since I met her in District Thirteen.

"We missed you too," Peeta calls from around the corner as he comes into our eyesight, holding a very excited Indigo in his arms.

"Finn!" She screams as she all but launches herself away from Peeta and into the eighteen year old's arms.

"Hi!" He exclaims as he catches her and swings her upwards, returning the overzealous squeeze she's giving his neck. "How's my best girl?"

"She's gweat!" Indigo beams and my heart melts a little, watching her with the boy who looks so much like his father. The boy who's always been such a joy in life. The boy who saved his mother eighteen years ago, who has been nothing but respectful and kind and funny to me and Peeta, who has shown incredible maturity at such a young age.

Then again, at his age I had already been through two games and a war. Peeta had already been hijacked and fought his way back. I'd already lost my little sister. Me and Peeta had our toasting at only a year older, at nineteen. Maybe eighteen isn't a young as it seems to me now, looking at youthful Finn, who I watched learn to walk and talk and swim and tie a knot.

Or maybe I was just as young when all that tragedy occurred. Maybe I just felt older because of the circumstances in which I was born, because of the world in which we lived.

I shake my head slightly, trying to shake the bad thoughts away.

"Indy, guess what?" Finn prompts enthusiastically—but not without shooting me a teasing glance, knowing my distain for her nickname.

"What?"

"I brought something."

"What?"

Both Peeta's and my curiosity has been peaked now, just as much as our child's. Annie's hesitant glance, that looks both hopeful and apprehensive, only fuels my confusion more.

"Well, there's a new tradition in some of the other districts that I think you'd find fun," he explains, but his eyes flicker to me and I raise an eyebrow, wondering what he could be suggesting. "You see you cut down a tree—or sometimes people in One or Two buy a plastic tree—and then you bring it home and decorate it."

Indigo claps her hands together, too excited and too precious for me to disappoint her. "I want to do it!" She yells, with an exuberance only a three-year-old could possess. "Kenny, we're gonna decorate a tee!"

I hear a variant of what being exclaimed in the other room, where my mother, Haymitch and the Bagley's still are.

"Where do we buy decorations?" My child asks, abruptly serious, the details of this tradition becoming clearer in her little mind.

"Indy," Finn quickly tries to corral. "I brought decorations with me, but we need a tree and..." He hesitates, looking at me now.

"And?" She prompts, confused.

"We have to ask your momma if it's alright to get one. Since it's her house we'll be doing this in." He winks at me, then turns his eyes pleading, half mocking me.

Indigo doesn't have to even feign the look, she naturally inherited that sweet, wide eyed, begging glint. Either from Prim or Peeta—probably both—and I'm powerless against it.

"Fine," I relent dramatically. Indigo rewards me by jumping from Finn's arms to mine and kicking her little chubby legs excitedly. "But not until after dinner," I condition.

"We should probably go get the tree now though?" Peeta suddenly speaks up, looking at the clock on the wall. "Before it gets dark?"

I shoot him a glare over Indigo's head. "It won't get dark for hours. And why do you seem not surprised by this?"

Peeta shrugs too innocently and when Annie giggles and nudges his shoulder, I realize they had been conspiring behind my back.

"Daddy is definitely the bad influence around here, Indigofera," I declare, as my husband walks closer to us, leans down and kisses my hair.

"We love you," he says teasingly, against my crown. "Even if you are a stick in the mud sometimes."

Before I can respond, likely with a snappy comment, our daughter pops her head off my shoulder. "Daddy, I want to pick out the tee."

Of course she does. That girl has been in charge of us since the day she was born.

"Okay, Bean. Ask your mother if it's alright," he tells her, but it's just a formality at this point, as to not ruffle me further. She's his kid too, he can take her to get a tree if he wants.

"Mommy, can I-"

"Yes," I say exasperatedly, giving Peeta a look as I hand him Indigo.

"Don't worry, Sweetheart," he whispers, leaning down and touching his nose to mine. "I'll take care of our girl."

"I know," I sigh, because I do know that. I've never not trusted him with our child. Even if I prefer to keep them both here with me. Even if I'd have preferred to keep her inside of me, where I knew I could protect her always.

I can't keep the smile off my face though when he pecks my lips unexpectedly and then my nose. "We won't be long."

"Better not be," I call as he grabs their coats and carries my little girl out the door, following behind Finn and Kanon and the Bagley kids. "Or else I'm eating without you."

"Same here," Delly calls from the kitchen, though they probably can't hear her.

"Go change," Annie suggests, touching my messy braid gently. "I'll go help Delly and your mom."

I shoot her a grateful smile and make my way upstairs. In the years since the war both Annie and Johanna have remained, shockingly—maybe only to me—constants in mine and Peeta's lives. They both returned to their home districts, but through visits and telegraphs and phone calls, even just for Jo to call me an idiot, they both became a part of a new blended family I didn't even know was being created.

Though I am grateful now for it. Beyond words. As neither me nor Peeta can offer Indigo any sort of extended family, her having Johanna, Delly, Annie and their families somehow fills the space left empty from the loss the war gave us.

As if on cue, just as I'm thinking of her, I hear a loud rapt on the bathroom door and know Johanna has arrived.

"Come in," I yell as I pull on a dark green—which for some reason is an acceptable color on Yuleday—sweater and push a brush through my hair viciously. I'm just moving on to rebraiding it simply when Jo enters.

"Hello, Brainless," her voice rings out as she steps into the bathroom.

"I'm shocked you knocked."

"I didn't wanna see you indecently."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Probably won't be the last."

We both let out a laugh and—pretending to be at least a little begrudgingly about it—embrace for a moment.

"Missed your stupidity these last couple of months," she murmurs as she pulls back.

"My stupidity? You once almost shot an arrow at Haymitch."

"You thought that was an accident?"

I can't help but snort as I turn back to the mirror and finish up my braid. "How's Christopher?" I ask, my tone a little more serious.

But she just shrugs, her gaze focusing now on Indigo's tiny comb. The one with the diamonds that Effie sent and Peeta insisted we keep.

Christopher is the man Jo, almost against her will, fell for almost two years ago. She refuses to commit to him entirely, especially since he has a son not much older than Indigo and that prospect alone terrifies her, but when Peeta visited her last year he told me that Christopher and his son, David, without a doubt live in that house with her.

"I can't believe you keep stuff from Effie Trinket?" Jo segues gracelessly. "Especially for a three-year-old."

"Blame Indigo's father. Both for her love of fancy things and his compliance in letting her have them."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, because you make sure she only gets the bare necessities."

"Okay, who's side are you on?"

"The one who makes the dinner around here."

"I hunt it."

"He stuffs it and bakes it."

"This feels personal. Is this because I didn't save you any pumpkin cake or sweet nut bread from Harvest Dinner?"

"Now that you mention it-"

Johanna is abruptly cut off by the sound of a yelp. Only, instead of the sound being a distress call or a bone chilling cry, it's one of excitement.

"Johanna Mason, get down here!" Annie yells, way too excited to be beckoning Jo of all people.

She rolls her eyes—a little too good-naturedly to be as annoyed as she'd like for me to believe—before exiting the bathroom and heading down to greet Annie at the bottom of the staircase.

I chuckle to myself, marveling at their odd friendship, before brushing my teeth and washing my face and heading down to join them as well.

I almost run headfirst into my husband as I walk by the front door. "That was quick," I note breathlessly as Peeta catches me by the waist, burying his now chilly face into my neck. Probably more for warmth than romance.

"Hmm, Indy-Indigo," he corrects himself humorously. "She is very decisive. Saw the tree she wanted and looked at no second options."

I wrap my arms around his neck and peer over his shoulder. "And where is the little decisive thing now?"

"Having a snowball fight with Finn and Kendall in the snow. You'll be happy to know your daughter is winning."

I roll my eyes. "Of course she is. Well, I guess we better start the fire to warm her up when she's done."

"Hypothermia would be a bummer on Yuleday," he agrees cheekily.

"For us more than her."

"Pretty much."

Inside the living room, Kanon and Haymitch—but mostly Kanon—are finishing setting up a newly trimmed tree, right by the back door.

"Sweetheart, it's your dream," Haymitch taunts. "Having part of the woods in your house."

"Did he knock a few back on the way to grab a tree?" I ask Peeta quietly, as he wraps his arms around my waist from behind.

"Probably. I was busy watching the four little ones, I didn't have time to monitor an old man too."

"Should have put Finn on Haymitch watch."

"You know, I can hear you," our old mentor barks as Kanon finishes putting up the tree.

"Indigo!" I hear my mother exclaim, as the front door opens again.

I spin around in time to see a little person, shorter than all the other kids, practically dance her way into the house. "Gamma!"

"Hey," I halt her, pulling away from Peeta. "Let's not track snow into the house, baby."

Delly and Annie both help dust off the other three while I pull Indigo's scarf, boots, hat, gloves and coat off and toss them all aside carelessly. Much to Peeta's dismay, as he sees the snow fly all over the entryway.

"Let's not track snow into the house, baby," he imitates.

"Shut up."

As soon as she's free from the white frozen slush, she launches herself towards my mother. "Hi!"

"Hi, sweet girl! How'd you like playing in the snow?"

"It was fweezing. But I beat Finn and Kenny at our snowball fight so it was worth it." She smiles up at my mother proudly and for a moment, Indigo looks exactly like Peeta and I am amazed at that fact somehow. Considering, at first glance, she's all me besides the eyes.

Except sometimes she looks at me and I see my sister at her age, so deeply ingrained in her eyes, in her mannerisms, in her voice, that I'm taken back to being child again myself.

"You're a little messy," my mother also notes, pushing back the hair that has fallen from her braid.

"Well I like to play so, things happen." Her little shrug is one of the most endearing things about her.

"Your mother also loved to get messy."

I furrow my brows. "I was always very clean, Mom."

"Oh I doubt that," Peeta disagrees and has the audacity to laugh, standing right beside me now. "You aren't even very clean now."

I turn to him, pressing my face close to his, trying to look threatening as I push my nose against his. "I will get you."

"Oh, please do," he eggs on, his smile turning into a grin.

"I have a bow, I could literally-"

"Is dinner almost ready yet?" Rhys, Delly's only son, complains.

Chuckling slightly, I pull my face away from a still smirking Peeta. Thankfully, no one else noticed our exchange, aside from my mother, who's too polite to do more than smile.

"Yeah, Rhys, dinner's all ready," Peeta says, putting his hand on the back of the little boy's head and guiding him to the table.

Dinner is only slightly chaotic. Four kids under eight-years-old, a teenager who can match Haymitch's humor effortlessly, Jo and Peeta and I swinging insults back and forth like compliments and then Annie, who's quiet and blissful spirit can't be tempered for anything in this world on holidays, and my mother, who feigns oblivious to the chaos surrounding her, all adds up to an interesting affair. Add in the stupid stray cat my daughter adores meowing at the back door and it's practically a circus.

But it's a circus I have found myself loving, more and more, since Indigo joined us. Since I somehow made the most beautiful and intelligent and spirited human being, somehow the dreary outlook I used to hold on this new post-war holiday has turned to excitement.

Maybe it's the fact that eighteen years have passed since the war that stole my sister from me. Or maybe it's that I'm looking forward to who's here now, who's experiencing this holiday with me, who I get to share this day with and witness their enthusiasm.

My daughter.

I never thought, in a million years, I'd have a child of my own. I never thought once that she'd come to exist, that I'd feel safe enough or strong enough or brave enough, to bear bringing something to delicate, something so wonderful and precious and breakable, into this world.

But she has lit up my life in ways I didn't even imagine possible. I thought I was happy, blissfully happy most days, with Peeta. And I was. But that was before I saw what life was like with Indigo and now I can't even picture how miserable and downcast this day would be without her.

As the sky begins to darken outside and Peeta stands up to light candles along the windowsills while Kanon adds logs to the fireplace, my child suddenly starts squirming in her seat. "Can I decorate the tree now?" She asks as I wipe her face with a cloth napkin.

"In a minute, Bean."

"I want to now!" She whines as I scrub the leftover food that didn't make her mouth off her cheek.

"Indigofera," Peeta says in a warning tone.

"I wanna decorate the tree right now," she says in a slightly quieter voice.

"Okay," I murmur, smiling slightly as I drop my hand from her face and let her go. "Go decorate, Sweetie."

With my consent, she practically flies out of her chair and—nearly knocking Evie over—pushes her way to the bag of ornaments Finn brought from Four.

"She didn't get a nap today," I explain to Johanna and my mother, who watched the almost tantrum unfold.

"You were the same," my mother replies and then chuckles. I toss her a look, before I spot Finn lifting Indigo up to place a trident high upon the tree.

My eyes aren't perfect but from where I'm sitting I can make out the name Finnick Odair gracefully carved underneath and my gaze falls on Annie.

She offers me a knowing smile and shrugs. "He wanted to handmake the ornaments himself. Meaningful ones you can't just buy. I wasn't going to discourage him."

I nod, a feeling of pride for some strange reason flooding me. I didn't raise Finn. The indefinite length of my sentence to Twelve was never revisited and, in truth, I had little reason to care enough to fight it. But it did mean I wasn't able to make it to Four, to see my mom or Annie and Finn at my own whim.

But Annie has always made a point to come here, every so often since the war ended. She's written letters and called and sent photos, consistently, for so many years that I've lost track. They were both here the day after I had Indigo. They've never missed any of our birthdays. And I've watched that boy, with his father's tan skin, bronze hair and sea green eyes grow into a man who'd make Finnick proud.

And it's nearly impossible for me not to feel so sort of pride in him as well. If for nothing else, the way he treats my daughter. Always patient, always kind, always ready to play.

"Where'd he get this idea?" I ask, if for no other reason, just to change the subject before I get visibly sentimental. "To decorate a tree, I mean."

Annie's expression shifts and changes slightly. "Coral McGonigill."

Johanna's ears almost noticeably perk up. "Is she is his new flavor of the month?"

"Well, she's lasted for several months," Annie corrects, but doesn't seem too enthusiastic of this girl.

"Do you like her?" I ask, my brow furrowing. I don't even want to imagine my child dating. The idea of her spending time alone, with anyone I don't personally know already drives me nearly to the brink of insanity, but to add in teenage impulses and hormones? My skin is crawling at the thought and I feel a wave of nausea come over me suddenly.

Before Annie can answer though, Haymitch is cutting into the conversation.

"Look at you guys," I hear him guffaw over my shoulder. "Gossiping like old ladies."

Jo throws her fork in his direction, barely missing her target. His left eye and cheek. "Hey, hey, hey," Haymitch bellows now. "Not in front of the children."

"I agree with Haymitch," Delly calls from behind the tree, where she's helping Kendall hang up a pink squirrel ornament.

"Of course you do," Johanna mumbles, loud enough only I can hear, and I have to repress a laugh.

All levity though slips away from my features as I watch Finn hand my child a new ornament. I feel Annie's eyes on me, apprehensive and a little fearful.

The ornament is an angel. It has blonde hair and blue eyes and my sister's exact nose and mouth. She's wearing a skirt and blouse, both pure white, to perfectly match the halo floating above her head. But the skirt is untucked in the back, giving her a duck tail, and it's this fact that registers in my brain. It's this fact that makes me realize that the ornament is Prim, even before I read the name sprawled across the bottom.

Peeta's staring at me now too, but it's my mother that grasps my hand. Our eyes barely meet for a second but we both understand what the other one is thinking.

She should be here. She should be helping decorate the tree. She should be playing with my daughter, who she'd surely love.

But she isn't. Because someone I trusted may or may not have built bombs that killed her. Because a vindictive woman thought that killing her and dozens of other children was the only way to win. Because I was too stupid for too long and didn't see what the real plan was, even as it sat right under my nose.

But she can be here now. If there's anything I learned from Indigo, it's that someone can exist, even in a small part, inside another person. It's that life doesn't have to end at death, as long as someone is around to remember them.

"That's a beautiful ornament, Finn," I say, as evenly and as kindly as I can.

He takes my other hand, his eyes sweet and gentle. "I made it for you. I thought..."

I nod, even though he doesn't finish his sentence. "I know. Thank you."

My mom keeps hold of my palm underneath the table for minutes after everyone else has moved, and even with the issues that still lie between us, I give her fingers a squeeze. Because she's the only one who really understands my grief.

I watch on as the kids decorate the entire tree, top to bottom, with shaped ornaments, ranging from plants to flower to boats to berries to pastries. And a loaf of bread, which Peeta finds particularly funny.

At the end though, all that's left is a large star, clearly meant to sit at the top of the tree. "What is this?" Evie asks Delly, turning it over in her hand.

"That goes on top of the tree," Annie explains, gesturing to the point of the pine near the ceiling.

"How do we get up there?" Rhys asks, stealing the star from his sister, his little eyes confused. "Daddy isn't even that tall."

"Someone's gotta lift us up to the top," Kendall states, munching on something I hope came from her dinner plate and not the floor.

"My daddy can lift me up there!" Indigo suddenly exclaims and reaches her grabby little hands for the star.

Rhys, however, jerks it out of reach automatically. "Why do you get to do it?"

"It's her house," Delly chides her son sternly.

"And she's the youngest, Rhys," Evie says, in a tone that clearly imitates her mother. "Give her the star."

He does so reluctantly and I'm glad that moment passed by quickly, before I had the chance to tell Rhys—as much as I care for him, and I do, deeply—that he better give my kid her star.

I don't even care that this isn't my tradition to start with. My house, my rules. My kid puts the star on the tree, end of story.

"Daddy!" Indigo squeals as Peeta scoops her up in his waiting arms. "Lift me," she commands, holding the large tree-topper with both hands.

Kanon and Haymitch start directing her, as her little eyes can't see to the top, even with Peeta lifting her as high as humanly possible. But when she gets it into place, she grows so excited that her limbs start flailing.

"Look, Daddy! I did that!" She says once he has her on his hip again, pointing to the star she just placed.

"I saw," he enthuses, brushing back the long, dark hair that's almost entirely out of her braid. "You did good!"

And if I thought my heart was melting before, with Finn and Indigo, it explodes when Indigo puts her tiny hands on Peeta's face and turns him towards her. "I love you, Daddy."

His eyes are awed and grateful, as this was all he wanted for years. For years upon years, he remained patient and understanding when I said I wasn't able to give him a child. When I explained all my reasons to why I didn't want a family. He always was respectful of my wishes and of my feelings.

But I saw it in his bright blue eyes, the ones he passed down to our daughter. He wanted a child so badly. He wanted this, this love that Indigo so easily has to offer, that we effortlessly shower her in.

It took me fifteen years to realize that perhaps I wanted it too. Perhaps my fear was overshadowing me from what I truly wanted. Perhaps it was better to have a child and do everything to keep her safe, to fret and worry in addition to love and adore her, rather than to never know that kind of love at all.

"I love you too, Indigo Sky," he murmurs back softly, before she leans in and kisses him.

I feel my mom squeeze my hand again and I know it's not out of sorrow this time, but out of joy. Joy that her child was able to have a family full of so much love. A family so similar to the one she had decades ago.

I squeeze her hand back, feeling horrific now for how angry I was with her for so long. I don't know who I'd be or what I'd do if someone took Peeta or Indigo from me.

"I think Mommy needs to admire the tree," Peeta says, eyeing me conspicuously.

I stand up, looking at the decorations admiringly. Of course, this tree was mainly decorated by young children, so the majority of ornaments gravitate towards the bottom or are clumped into one place, but still, I tell Indigo how pretty it looks and how good of a job she did.

My eye still catches on the Primrose Everdeen angel, hanging right in the center of the tree, and I have to force myself to refrain from tracing the face on it. The details are even more impressive up close and I wonder if Finn has become an artist or if his girlfriend is the talented one.

Just as I'm about to say something, anything really, to take my mind off my deceased sister, a meaty smell fills the air and my stomach lurches without warning.

I propel myself towards the kitchen sink and lose majority of what I just consumed at dinner.

Behind me, I hear a small commotion. Peeta telling Indigo to go to Finn, Delly and Kanon keeping their kids back, Annie and Johanna saying something to Haymitch.

My mom's hand comes in contact with my cheek, feeling my face and pushing the hair that fell from my braid back behind my shoulder. "What happened?"

As I'm about to answer, Peeta comes up to stand on my other side, one hand subtly turning on the water to flush out the sink, while the other rubs my back soothingly.

"I don't know," I croak, as puking always makes my throat raw. "I just smelled something like meat-"

"Told you it was Haymitch's fault," Jo cuts in, clearly speaking to Annie.

"I only asked if this bird was still good," the old, paunchy man defends himself, holding up some game I shot a while back.

"Well, if it makes Katniss throw up just by smelling it, I'd say no," Finn says.

"You don't have a fever," my mother notes, but her eyes are still confused. Though, I will say, not as worried as I thought they might be and for that I'm glad. The last thing I wish to do is ruin everyone's holiday, especially when I've only just started to enjoy this festivity in the last few years.

"I'm fine," I insist, pulling away from both my mother and my husband and wiping my mouth on a cloth quickly. "Seriously, I'm fine."

"Okay, but still sit down," I hear Delly say and I roll my eyes but do so anyways. Because I'm genuinely tired, not because anyone told me to.

"I'm fine, Indigo," I promise when I spot my daughter's scared eyes, still being held in Finn's arms. "I'm just tired."

Peeta follows me to the couch and, even though I wish to refuse out of embarrassment, when he offers me a fizzy water and starts subtly massaging my back, I can't help but lean my head into his chest gratefully.

I still fight the urge to fall asleep right there though. I still conjure up as much willpower as I can to stay alert, to watch Indigo and Kendall play with their stuffed toys, to listen to Finn and Haymitch shoot smart remarks back and forth, to listen to Annie and Jo catch up or my mother and Delly share stories of their vastly different lives.

By the end of the night though, when it's way past all of our bedtimes, as people start to filter out, planning on catching the late night train or taking a shortcut to their houses here in Twelve, my eyelids begin to involuntarily droop.

"You can sleep," Peeta whispers against my forehead. "I'll take care of everything else."

I want to turn down his offer, to say I can help clean up and put Indigo to bed. But when the last of our guests dissipate and Indigo, exhausted herself, climbs into my lap and curls up against me, I lose the battle and doze off right there on the couch.

Hours must pass, because when my eyes crack open again, the flames in the fireplace have been put out, the entire kitchen and living room are clean, and my child is missing.

Of course, those are the first words out of my mouth. "Where's Indigo?"

"I tucked her in. She's in her own bed tonight," Peeta promises, pulling my arm up to wrap around his neck. "I told you I'd take care of everything."

"You didn't have to..." I mumble sleepily as he lifts me up against him.

"Shhh, just go to sleep," he whispers, his lips pressing against my neck then collarbone. "Just rest, Katniss."

When I wake up again, the sun has already risen in the sky. Thankfully though, my child hasn't yet.

Peeta is alert already, propped up on his elbow, when I open my eyes. "Hey," I rasp, my voice not working yet.

"Hey, beautiful," he greets softly and I roll my eyes at the compliment. I do appreciate hearing it though, despite the years we've been together and how some things can lose effect over time. Peeta's little comments and gestures still haven't. They still mean more to me than I'd ever admit.

Now that I'm fully awake, I feel a small bit of embarrassment creeping back in. "Sorry about last night."

His blonde brows twist with confusion. "You mean getting sick? I don't think that's anything for you to be sorry about, Katniss."

"It was just strange," I note, more to myself than to him. "I just smelled the meat Haymitch found and for some reason, my gag reflex couldn't handle it."

The look that crosses his eyes is sly and reserved and I must still be a little foggy from exhaustion, because it's a rare time where I don't understand what he must be thinking.

He changes the subject abruptly anyway. "Did you have a good time yesterday?" He asks kindly.

"Yes," I reply, maybe a little begrudgingly. Considering for years I complained that I hated this newfound holiday, it is both a joy and a joke to Peeta that I look forward to this day now.

"Good," he replies and kisses my forehead, then my mouth warmly. "I like it when my wife is happy."

"Your wife is always happy when she's with you."

He moves back a little to smirk. "Me too."

I can't help teasing him though. "You're always happy when you're with you too?"

"Yes, Katniss, that's exactly what I meant."

I lean up then and kiss him again, this time with more passion. It's a real testament to our marriage that he can still conjure up butterflies in my lower stomach, after almost two decades since we had our first kiss-our first real kiss-in that cave.

"Thank you," I whisper softly as we break apart.

His eyes flicker lightly with confusion. "For what, Sweetheart?"

"For everything. For Indigo and the life we have. For the last eighteen years," I profess, genuinely. Words have always been difficult for me, and they still don't flow at the slightest slip of my tongue, but it's easier now. It's easier with Peeta, just the two of us, and the strong foundation in which our relationship and life is built upon.

Words for him, however, have always come as easy as breathing. "You have made my life so wonderful," he murmurs and tenderly kisses my lips one more time. "Thank you."

Weeks later, the source of my mysterious illness, my nausea and exhaustion, is discovered when we find out I'm pregnant again.

#everlark #thg #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #everlark fanfic #everlark fic #fic #writing #christmas #oneshot #post mockingjay #canon compliant

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hobiwonder · 5 years

Text

crazy rich asians | 01

Genre: Chaebol!BTS. maid!reader. Smut, fluff. mild angst.

Pairing: Jin x reader, Jimin x reader, Hoseok x reader, Yoongi x reader. Possible future pairings.

Warnings for this chapter: language. brief mention of oral sex. Kissing !!!

Words: 9k+

Summary: You overhear something you shouldn’t. Now some of the country’s most powerful - and rich - men would do anything to keep you quiet.

a/n: i turned it into a fic as requested!!! ngl…. am worried how people will receive this lol. This will be a short series. no major angst so don’t worry. i hope you guys like it bc i really enjoyed writing it. please let me know what you think n feed my motivation bubble so i dont take months to finish this ajdubejekbfjk.

This was odd. Jin’s eyebrows furrowed – which he was strongly against since premature wrinkles were one of his biggest fears. He was closer to thirty than twenty so his concerns were valid. Jimin almost never visited his childhood home ever since their father got engaged to the secretary – another cliché – a few months ago.

“Hm… what changed your mind little brother.” Jin mutters as he passes the sleek Mercedes that belongs to his younger brother. Nevertheless, he can’t help the sly smirk that fights his muscles and spreads across his porcelain skin. He couldn’t wait to rub it in Jimin’s face that he finally returned when his bank account dried out. Most likely.

The plethora of house staff greeting Jin as he walked along the indoor fountain, trying to acknowledge most of them. They had too many servants and it wasn’t Jin’s fault that he didn’t care about most of them. But it was hard when they all looked so sheepish like they had some wretched secret they were supposed to hide but failed.

“Good Afternoon Sir, what brings you here?” Jin’s long legs are no match for the shorter man who usually took care of everything in the manor so he’s a little breathless as he Jogs besides him.

“To my own house? Where I lived for 20 years?” This really was becoming a strange day.

“A-Ah no sir. I meant no disrespect just wanted to be prepared to accommodate you accordingly.”

“Okay,” This was officially starting to annoy him and the furrow in his forehead was getting deeper. He would not get wrinkles because his servant annoyed him in to it. “Alfred… Anders… Andrew. Whatever your name is, I don’t need to announce my arrival at my own home. On second thought, maybe I should.”

The idea is very appealing as he swirls the thought in his head and it’s enough to make him forget the butler’s calls as he enters Jimin’s private wing. He isn’t surprised though when he already hears faint moans but not of a woman for once. It’s undoubtedly Jimin which is again – peculiar because getting off himself wasn’t something Jimin liked to do if he had ‘several other women ready to do it for me’ if quoting him directly. He guesses there is only one way to find out as he approaches the living area, looking at the back of his head resting on the enormous lounge sofa.

“Well hello there brother!” His tongue doesn’t form anymore words when he can finally see Jimin in his line of view – and his father’s fiancé frantically buttoning her blouse to retain some of her dignity. Jimin on the other hand is taking his sweet time tucking himself inside his slacks – shaking his head in disbelief as if Jin’s caused him immense grief.

“…and Amber.” Jin is no stranger to walking in on his brother – or friends really – indulging in all sorts of debauchery but this – this was quite interesting and to put it simply, messy. “Well, well, well. Did you come back to sleep with our step-mother or actually missed your family, god forbid?”

Jimin is no more rattled than a sloth as he runs his hands through his silky golden hair and smacks Amber’s ass as she’s still fiddling with her blouse. “A bit of both.”

“I-I didn’t know you’d b-be back so quick Jin-ah.” Her pearly white teeth that his father paid way too much for are almost blinding him. Yeah he’s not that bored today to play along with her games so he opts for just a dry smile. This was no surprise to him. Especially when the first person she had a fling with in this household was, well, Jin himself.

“Clearly. Thankfully you know father won’t be home until late. Run along now. I’ve got to catch up with your son.” Okay, that one’s on him. He liked to rub it in her face.

“Step-son.” She’s positively seething and Jin couldn’t be more delighted.

“Ooh. Naughty aren’t you? I knew you were always in a bit of incest.”

Jimin’s snort and Amber’s scoff come at the same time but at least it makes her on her way, heels clicking as she’s strutting away.

“I gave the staff one job and they couldn’t even do that.” Jimin walks towards the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a whiskey at 12 in the afternoon – bringing a smile to his face. He did miss his little brother.

“To keep me from finding Amber swallowing your unborn children?

“Thank fuck for that. I’m not ever going to be ready for kids.”

“Understandable. Considering you are one.” Jin’s shit eating grin makes Jimin pour another glass which he drowns in a second too.

“Please tell me how many ‘kids’ you know who’re worth half a billion dollars?”

Not a trick question.

“Almost all of our friends? Plus, we’re brothers you maggot. And I’m worth more.” His stance widens as he splays his feet out in some sort of power pose.

“What now? You want us sword fighting?” Jimin’s glancing to his crotch before he continues, “I’ll win because somebody didn’t let me finish.” Yes, very evident from the hard tent in his slacks.

“No need to resort to unsanitary methods. Talking will do.” He’s waving his hand in dismissal, watching Jimin taking a seat opposite – absolutely no attempts at hiding his boner. “So, what brings you back? Thought you were up in the Bahamas getting tanned and toned and weren’t due back for a few more weeks?”

“Correct but that was until father announced his surprise engagement.” Jimin is on his third glass of whiskey but looks more sober than a priest.

“Is there anything he does these days that isn’t a surprise? I found out I was moving houses from the real estate agent for god’s sake.” That makes Jimin snort out a laugh.

“Christ. He’s a bastard isn’t he?” Jimin had been in boarding school still when Jin had been effectively moved out of the manor in to a skyscraper penthouse because his father had wanted to ‘relax by himself and no kids’. As if he raised them on his own.

“Yup. Turns out he just needed the house to be snitch-free to fuck his secretary/future step-mom.” Plus he was still going through the divorce with their mother.

“I can understand why.” Jimin’s closing his eyes, heading leaning back again as a sultry smile spreads on his youthful face as if he’s reminiscing an irreplaceable memory. “Amber can make you forget you own name.”

“Right?” Jin is letting his inner, less sophisticated horny teenager alter ego slip through as he agrees with his brother about what a good lay their step-mom is.

“You already tap that?” When Jin just winks in Jimin’s direction, he’s clapping and chuckling like he can’t believe it.

“You’re no better than me brother and please, don’t take that as an insult. No offense at all.”

“None taken.” For a moment Jimin truly feels slightly happier. Looking at his brother and remembering sitting across from him while they talked about everything when they were younger and thought they had a chance at becoming people different than their father or their whole family. He had everything. They both had everything. There wasn’t one thing that either of them lacked or desired. So needless to say, their lives were a little grey and lacked excitement. Money though. That never failed to give him a hard-on.

Seeing his brother also made him happy, sure.

“Remember when we were playing in father’s office that one time he left it unlocked?” Jimin continues when Jin nods slowly, “And remember when we were rummaging through the drawers we found a safe and tried to break into it before Anderson caught us?”

“I knew it! He looked like an Anders.” When Jimin just blankly stares at him he mutters an apology and tells him to continue.

“Anyway. I went back and broke in to the safe.”

“Of course you did,” Jin is rolling his eyes but not finding it surprising that his little brother, ever the inquisitive little cat, went back to do exactly what he was told to notdo.

“No, listen,” Jimin’s eyes are increasingly growing frantic as he shifts forward, abandoning his glass of whiskey and Jin knew that this was something juicy. “There were papers inside the safe. Granddad’s will. I made copies.”

“Wait, you told me there was a bunch of cocaine and ecstasy. Nothing else.” Jimin shrugs once again to ask what was his point.

“And?”

“And you stole the papers but not the drugs? My teenage self hates you so much right now.”

“And that poor bastard should be thankful I looked in to the papers otherwise you would become penniless. Very soon.”

What was Jimin trying to say. “Get to the point Jimin. What about Grandpa’s will?”

Jin’s palms were becoming sweaty and a little tick in his left leg had already started and was about to become a full blown restless leg syndrome like a pathetic little office worker worried about losing a promotion.

“Well,” Jimin is moving across the room to sit beside his older brother, turning his lithe body to the side facing him as he starts to explain. “Grandad’s will stated that we were to receive 10% of our inheritance every year starting at the age of 35. Unless father remarried.”

The mention of money always sped up Jin’s heartbeat. It raced in his chest like he was about to win the lottery. Maybe he was?

“What then… ?” Jimin’s Cheshire grin slowly lighting up his whole face was never a good sign. Until now apparently.

“If he remarried before we turned 35, we are to receive our inheritance. In full. At once.”

Jin really felt like his heart would beat out of his chest. Because that was a lot of money.

“That’s-”

“$10 billion.” There was a slight pause as Jimin eagerly awaited his brother’s reaction.

“I think I just had a powergasm.” Jimin is chuckling as he slaps Jin’s back, shaking his older brother out of joy as they both start to gradually laugh louder. Is this how supervillains felt? Jin’s never laughed like this before and it’s no surprise that it’s money that’s doing the trick. Poor people wouldn’t understand.

That’s when another realisation occurs. “That’s why he kicked me out of the house. Because he was going to get engaged and couldn’t risk us retaliating and finding this bit of information out.”

“Precisely big brother.”

“Fuck…. We’re going to be rich as fuck.”

“If he doesn’t figure out a way to get that clause crossed from the will.” Jimin seems a bit nervous for the first time since he had started talking.

But Jin wasn’t. Not when he had people on his side who would love to make some money as well. Well, more money. He wasn’t friends with poor people.

“Don’t worry about it. You still in contact with Taehyung?” Jimin looks at his older brother with a ‘duh’ face.

“You still have a dick?” Jin’s just rolling his eyes as he calls the first number under ‘Y’.

“What?”

“Hello to you too, Min. Say, you want to become rich?” Yoongi on the other end is snorting before he speaks with his signature lazy drawl.

“I’m already rich, you bitch. But I’m having a down day anyway. Tell me more.”

Jin is smirking towards his brother, his body is buzzing and this is the most excited he;s been a while.

“Meet at my place with the other boys. At 2. Lunch is on me.”

“Yes because I desperately need someone to shout me lunch.” He’s had enough of Yoongi’s sarcasm so he just hangs up.

“Well Jimin, lets go get our billions.” Jimin hands his older brother a glass of whiskey before they make a toast.

“Amen.” Jin furrows his brows again.

“You believe in god now?”

“After seeing Amber’s tits? Yeah.”

“Oh hello there. Eavesdropping were we?” A man is leaning against the wall behind you, hands in his pockets while he looks at you head to toe, two small dimples appearing when he grins rather…. cutely you might add.

“U-Uh, n-no?” The handsome stranger is only shaking his head as he walks towards the door where the two brothers had gone in to only half an hour ago.

“Be careful next time little maid.” You hold in the scoff until he disappears inside the room.

“You guys have better discussed Amber’s ass and nothing else of importance because of the audience outside. The pretty little thing Anders hired.

“How does everyone know his name and not me? You don’t even live here Hoseok.” Jin’s scoffing while Jimin worries about the real problem.

“Fucking hell. The staff in this house is more loyal to our father than their own families. What do we do?”

“Leave that to me. Girls never kiss and tell when they’re with me.” with a wick, Hoseok is settling on the couch as well. “Just transfer me $50 million when you both get the money.”

Oh boy. Being rich was hard.

You were screwed. Or at least it looked like you were. Even though you'd been hired months ago - it was not usual to see the 'house Masters' (that's what Anders had called them anyway so you stuck with it). In fact you could count on one hand how many times you'd seen Kim Seokjin around the mansion. though he didn't live here so that wasn't too surprising at first but you did think that he would at least regularly visit his father. the numerous articles written about this family portrayed them as loyal as you can be to your own blood. What behind closed doors however, was a different story.

The eldest son rarely visited his father and his father, your employer, was even more of a rare sight around the Manor. In the three months you'd worked here, you'd seen Mr. Kim twice. And one of those times was when the annual Christmas dinner was hosted. But even for that, the youngest son, Jimin had not been present. So seeing the new face around the Manor today had confused you very much. But the way his perfectly sculpted features, luscious and shiny - oh god was it shiny - hair had told you that he belonged to this family. How close he was? You weren't sure. Until now.

Now that you'd been caught listening in to the scheming going behind the closed doors. He was the youngest son that was asked about a thousand times at the Christmas dinner and each time both, the father and the son, evaded the questions like experts. He was as handsome as the rest of the family so it didn't surprise you much when you found out his identity. Especially when the future house mistress had been lead in to the room by him, all smiles and charming demeanour. You'd naively thought that the step-mother and son - though she looked too good for her age as all rich people did - had quite a close relationship even though this was the first time you were seeing Master Jimin home. Until the moaning had sounded obnoxiously out in the hallway. Anders had tried his best to get to be anywhere other than cleaning the massive hallway that all the rooms connected to but in the end, you'd gravitated towards the noises. Knowing it was wrong for you to listen but not being able to help yourself. The young master's voice was so melodic, so serene, you were almost forgetting that the said noises weren't as innocent as the emotions they were evoking in you.

Your heart had sped up and your fingers had tugged down your uniform subconsciously at the erotic noises emitting from the room. Imagining yourself to be on the giving end of the scenario playing out in the room. But your fantasies had been broken when you'd hear Anders and Mr. Kim's older son's booming voice coming down the hallway. Quickly ducking back in to one of the rooms you were supposed to start dusting in, you'd only caught glimpse of the incredibly handsome Kim Seokjin reprimanding Anders for making him feel unwelcome in his own home. Though you felt for the poor old man. He was nice and looked after you more than you had expected. And the amount of work he had to see through was incredible and you were amazed at how he never failed to complete each and every one of his tasks. Except keeping Mr. Kim out of the young master's room that is. You'd heard the cheeky tone in Jimin's voice when he'd asked Anders to make sure that no one disturbs them. You'd thought stupidly that maybe they wanted to spend quality time with each other since Jimin was back home after a long time. And they spent quality time alright. The noises were a testament to that.

You were suddenly feeling the nervous butterflies in your stomach at the prospect of Jimin being found out by his older brother. And with his step mother no less. Like youwere the one doing something that scandalous. Craning your neck you'd tried to hear, maybe yelling? You'd assumed - wrongly, again - that the older master Kim would be horrified at finding out the debauchery going on inside the room but all you'd seen was a ruffled Amber - you think that's her name from the moans at least - and then joyous laughter which could only mean the brothers meeting. Rich people were bizarre. Did they not have any morals? Nothing settling uneasy in their conscience?

Not that you were any better because you were plainly eavesdropping and that was not how your mother raised you. Though she didn't raise you that much at all in all honesty. But she was quick to correct your mishaps or seemingly 'dishonest' activities. That was all she did really. Mostly your grandmother raised you until you were kicked out at the ripe age of 18 by your mother to 'find your own way' like her crack addicted self told you. She preached but never practiced her own self-righteous attitude more than when she needed to keep you under control. Though your visit down the memory lane is interrupted when your ears catch on to what the two men inside were talking about. The words 'cocaine' catch your attention - it was your mother's favourite at one point. Listening on further was just pure coincidence. But boy oh boy. What were you hearing? Were they going to possibly.... hurt someone for even more money? How much more could they want? They already had enough of it. You didn't realise the pout that had been on your face while you listened to the two brother calling a friend for some 'help'.

Not until someone was clearing their throat behind you, damn near making you knock your head against the wall you had been absentmindedly wiping for the hundredth time. Initially - for the millisecond of the reaction time you had available - you thought Anders would be the one to catch you and for some reason, you weren't as scared. Hence the sheepish smile on your face when you turn around to face whoever it was that had caught you so blatantly trying to listen to whatever was happening. Though your smile - as well as your heart - drops instantly when you see an unfamiliar face in front of you, yet again. And once again - the stranger is handsome, incredibly so. In fact, the toothy grin he's beaming your way is nearly blinding. His white teeth - definitely not natural, though you wouldn't be surprised if they were - smiling up at you as he leant against the wall besides you. How did you not hear him? His body was lithe and somehow you're not surprised that he snuck up on you so easily. Nonetheless, he did and you were in major trouble. He was good-looking enough for you to figure out that he probably belonged in the two master's circle.

“Oh hello there. Eavesdropping were we?” The man is leaning against the wall behind you, hands in his pockets while he looks at you head to toe, two small dimples appearing when he grins rather…. cutely you might add.

“U-Uh, n-no?” The handsome stranger is only shaking his head as he walks towards the door where the two brothers had gone in to only half an hour ago.

"No! Uh I mean. N-No... that's what I mean." You're hoping the desperation in your eyes gives him a hint that you rather not get in to trouble.

“Be careful next time little maid.” His smirk doesn't dissolve. In fact, it seems to get wider. Most likely being able to tell how hard you're trying to make it seem like you were doing the right thing. Definitely not eavesdropping. The handsome stranger is only shaking his head as he walks towards the door where the two brothers had gone in to only half an hour ago. Still watching you.

But alas, your mind malfunctions and the only thing you can think of is to get out of there. Too many good looking men you've seen to last you a decade. You're scurrying away back to the room you were originally supposed to be in and you can hear his chuckle even as you go further down the hallway to the room.

Slumping against the wall, your hand clutches just above where your heart should be. You were sofired. There was no way that whoever this was would not mention you lurking outside the room. Who was he anyway? Oh well, not that you would get to find out because you were stupidly caught eavesdropping. Eavesdropping! How cliché. It was impossible to focus on your work knowing that you will be in immense trouble. Pacing back and forth, rehearsing excuses and explanations to give Anders on why you were outside of your given area. And caught by a guest no less. From what you'd gathered about the older Kim son - he couldn't care less about your presence in the house.

One time he'd come in the living area, stayed for over two hours without acknowledging that you were even in the room. In fact, when Anders had called out to you to return to lend a hand at the kitchen is when he'd looked up at you as if it was the first time he was hearing a name that wasn't his own. Even then, he'd only looked at you for a mere few seconds before going back to the book he'd been reading.

But the newcomer - or old you guess, you'd only just started working after all - you weren't sure how he'd react to finding out your roaming outside his room. Surely, he would be just as aloof and uncaring of a mere maid as you, right? Maybe not if the handsome stranger told him about how well you'd been listening to the conversation inside. Oh lord. This was the only job that paid enough for you to send home and also keep a roof over your head. What were you going to do? You minded your own business but the one day curiosity got you was when you've been caught. Just your luck. Your mother was right. Your curiosity will be your end. And seems like it will be now as well judging from the sound of the doors opening from the young master's suite and several pairs of footsteps coming towards the room you were in.

Your limbs moving like lightning, making sure each and every one of the vases was picked up and dusted through thoroughly - it's obvious you're trying to look as occupied as possible. A few seconds later, the footsteps stop right outside the room you're in and your heart might as well have stopped pumping blood through your body as well with the way your temperature drops from the impending doom. Had they told on you already? Was Anders also outside the door? If he was alone you could've tried to weasel your way out of such a mishap but you doubt the you could even let out a squeak between the three intimidating men.

To your demise, when the men enter the room - Anders is nowhere to be found. The two brothers and the third stranger who had caught you stand in the doorway looking all too.... nerve-racking (for you). Instantly you know that theyknow how nervous you are. Nervous of losing the only source of income that was enough to sustain you. The older of the two brothers is looking at you up and down, slowly and calculating. Like it's the first time he's seeing you. Someone like you at least. Some who wasn't at the same calibre as he. Even his gaze makes you feel poor. Inferior.

Thought it doesn't seem to be intentional. He was inspecting you like you were an enigma when in reality he was the one clad in all sorts of bling you were sure you would only see in the movies. Being so focused and aware of Seokjin, you'd almost forgotten about the two other men in the room. While the stranger leant against the wall like he had earlier, Jimin had taken a seat on the large sofa a few meters away from you. Crossing his, muscular you might add, thighs. Getting comfortable with one of his arms splayed on the back of the cushions while the other rested on the hand rest - completely at ease. The exact opposite of you. While Seokjin was all curious eyes, Jimin seemed to be looking at you with sly eyes, blatantly checking out your frumpy uniform and the duster in your hand. The smirk you'd seen in the morning still ever present on his face.

Never having been in a room with an attractive man such as Seokjin himself - let alone three - you're about ready to faint.

"Are you boys going to start or shall I?" The stranger spoke first. Voice breezy like they were about to have a conversation about the weather with you.

your eyes must still be opened wide when Jimin speaks up. "Relax Hoseok hyung, let the girl breathe first. You okay sweetheart?"

His saccharine sweet tone instantly soothes some of the nerves and the smile he sends your way, the wrinkles appearing around his round eyes making you feel all warm inside.

"U-Uh, wh-what? Oh I-I'm-" The elder cuts you off however. Seemingly not being able for you to finish up your stuttering. Hm, he definitely wasn't as nice as the other two.

"Anyway, what were you doing outside master Jimin's wing, little one?" The nickname makes your face redder than it was, feeling your blood rush in your head suddenly. Never did you think that the sons of your employer would actually refer to themselves as 'master'. You definitely guessed wrong. At least Jimin hadn't. You reallydid like him better even if he was about to fire you.

And guess what you do next? Sabotage yourself even further of course. Your mouth has no filter when you're nervous because the words come stumbling out before you can stop yourself.

"I heard your plan to get money from your dad!" The words almost sound like a really long, poorly pronounced word. A breath leaves you in a rush like you' been holding it in for a while after your word vomit. "Or w-well I guess.... m-more money."

The last words are whispered almost to yourself but the way the men are now widening their eyes at you - you know they heard every word.

"Excuse me?" The handsome stranger - Hoseok, now you know - fills the defining silence with the most endearing laughter you've heard in your small life-time just as Seokjin's incredulous tone has you shrinking back in to yourself.

"And what do you suppose... you will do with that information, hm?" Jimin slowly gets up from his place on the couch, straitening his dress pants. The Cheshire smirk still upturning the corners of his mouth as he stalks towards you. Slow, with purpose, to undoubtedly make you more nervous than you were feeling surrounded by him and his older brother standing adjacent to you.

"I-I... I won't say a-anything." You're taking a deep breath before you say the next words - gathering all the courage that you were able to. About to do something you never dreamed you would have to. "If you don't f-fire me."

Even though you are outright blackmailing these chaebol brothers and with a witness present, you can't help the frown creasing your forehead at your unethical actions. Who were you blackmailing people that can probably have your existence removed from this earth?! They certainly had enough money for it.

"And if we do fire you, little one?" The screech that leaves your throat at the unexpected closeness of Seokjin as he leans his head down. Close enough that you instinctively take a step back as his deep coal orbs bore in to yours - challenging you to respond.

"I-I-I um," you gulp, looking anywhere but his intense eyes that won't let you breathe. "I'll tell y-your father!"

Your reply is defiant but nowhere near as threatening as you'd wanted it to be. In all honesty, you just want to keep your job. Seokjin's eyebrows shoot upwards at your feigned bravery and the bold claim. How would you even get in touch with his father?

You'd only ever seen him from a distance in person. Here's to hoping they don't call you on your bluff.

"Oh will you now?" His head tilts almost menacingly, still staring right down at you. The arms that come around to wrap themselves around you are purely in instinct. You were out of your depth here and desperately hoping they'd forget about this and ignore you. You were a mere house staff and a very lowly one at that.

Surely they won't fall to your words. This was stupid and you were doomed. You're about ready to apologies when Jimin speaks making your head snap towards him.

"Calm down, brother." His smile is then directed at you. "What's your name darling?"

"Y-Y/n." Your brain was on auto-pilot and you just wanted to be out of trouble.

"Well, y/n, don't worry." Jimin is close enough that you can smell his cologne. It smells heavenly and you almost want to sniff as much as you can to take in the smell while it's there. "Our mouths are barred," head leaning down just as Seokjin had been earlier, "as long as yours is."

Jimin was smooth. Slick and smooth with his hypnotic eyes, euphonious voice and tranquil words making sure you were listening. Comprehending every word. You're nodding along with him - actions a little quivery. Until another thought pops up in your head.

"W-What if h-he dobs me in?" Your head gestures towards Hoseok's animatedly in your nervous state. Completely missing the chuckle that sounds from the accused.

Jimin is biting his bottom lip, holding himself back from flat out laughing in your face probably.

"Don't you worry, sweetheart. We're all bounded in this contract. Deal?" He's nodding at you, prompting you to nod your understanding as well.

Seokjin is still scrutinising you, stepping back now that Jimin had taken over. You glance in Jimin's eyes before nodding once again - much more firmly.

"Excellent. Shall we seal this deal?" He looks around to Hoseok who just gestures with his hand 'as you wish' with a grin similar to Jimin's. It's like they're all communicating in some symbolic language that goes above your head. Seokjin doesn't respond but now stand besides Jimin.

When Jimin is looking back at you, a singular eyebrow raised - you nod as well. "O-Okay."

Hastily, you're wiping your clammy hands on your uniform to bring it forward and shake his hand. That's what he meant right?

The golden haired boy only smirks at your outstretched hand as his gaze falls back to your reluctant face. Your nerves are settling slightly when his arm is making its way to you as well - thanking god above that this was going to be over soon.

Until the said hands bypasses yours waiting to shake his and settles on the wall beside your head and your own eyes watch its descent. Before you can ask any questions or even make sense of what's happening, your head is tilted backwards slightly when a pair of voluptuous lips take their residence on your own. The noise of surprise leaving the back of your throat is the only other heard in the otherwise quiet room. Your hand instinctively going to grab at the arms caging you between them.

Jimin's kiss is all consuming, his lips gently sucking yours in the most unwavering embrace. Embrace is a bit of a stretch. While one hand had squashed any hopes of your escape, the other made it impossible as it held on to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb as his tongue swiped over your lips. A whimper leaves your mouth when he does so and only a few seconds later, Jimin is pulling away with a wet 'pop' of his lips. His petal soft ones are moist and gently coloured with a natural deep pink.

You're barely breathing, eyes half closed when Hoseok has stepped besides the smirking Jimin.

"What a-"

"We're sealing it with a kiss, Darling. All of us." You felt like you were going to faint. Kissing one of them was this taxing - in the best way with the way the butterflies were going haywire in your tummy - how were you going to kiss all threeof them?

"I- Okay." You sound defeated and overwhelmed but ready to have someone fill the void that was left when Jimin stopped kissing you.

Hoseok has taken Jimin's place, swiftly pushing his head closer to yours, nuzzling your nose with his - an oddly intimate act - before his soft lips push against yours. Your arms have found their way to the top of his chest purely on instinct once more. Needing to hold on to something so your weak knees don't give out beneath you.

His kiss is more delicate than Jimin's. Much softer. Until he pulls back for the first time of course. Only to crash his mouth on to yours with a ferocity you were not expecting. Your hands are itching to tug on the silky strands of his hair but you resist. You're not sure if you should even kiss him back. What were you doing? Kissing strangers. It was a little too late to think about that anyway because there was no plausible reason you could think of at the moment to stopkissing him back.

"That's enough hyung. Let her breathe." Jimin's impish chuckle sounds from the room somewhere just as Hoseok's touch gets dangerously close to the curvature of your breasts.

He breaks away with a dramatic 'chu' as his lips part from yours. Sparkling from how shiny they were from your combined saliva. Jimin was right. You really needed to breathe before you fainted - especially with the way your knees wobbled, trying your best to rest against the wall behind you. Hoseok's eyes are still staring raptly at you, the knowing smirk still ever present. It briefly slips down to your heaving chest and even though the uniform was virtually shapeless - you felt almost naked under his scrutiny.

Evidently, your cheeks are reddening even further as he steps back, your heart skipping several beats and blood pressure spiking shortly after when you realise who was next - Kim Seokjin. Somehow, you'd expected the state of subtle arousal to dissipate to a certain degree. The substantial dislike you'd acquired for his tone whenever addressing you had been pushed to the side as he took his place in front of you. Your eyes lock, heart stopingly striking features making you breathless once again.

He, undoubtedly, intimidated you the most out of all of them. Eyes flicking back and forth between the other men and Seokjin, you're trying not to get nervous with each second that passes. Hoseok had not waited long enough to let the panic rise from deep down and you were thankful for that. Because nervous you was not appropriate. Not at all. But then again nothing about kissing your boss's sons and their friends was appropriate. You were way past that point. He places his hand besides your head, just as the other two had done. Bracing your hands behind you on the wall, you're ready for him to steal your breath away.

What you weren't expecting was the gentle press of lips against your cheek. A surprised gasp leaves past your - very lonely - lips. Trying to hide the disappointment that's trying to claw its way on to your face, you stay very still like moving even just an inch might be catastrophic for you. Just as soon as he kissed you, he's pulling away. You hadn't noticed his other hand that had been just shy of holding your waist - hovering besides it like he was uncertain. Which was a crazy thought to you.

"Nowit's a deal." Jimin speaks up from behind Seokjin. Seokjin's broad shoulders had almost completely blocked your view of the other two men in the room that you had momentarily forgotten about them.

Seokjin moves away just as fast as his little peck on your cheek. Which makes you wonder if you were that indigent to him, this unappealing, that he'd resorted to a little peck on your cheek. This was ridiculous on its own because your perception of reality was so skewed considering the events that had transpired in the past hour. A few hours ago you were getting ready to do your weekly thorough cleaning of the vast left wing - now you were internally pouting at not receiving a kiss from one of the three most handsome men you'd ever laid your eyes on. Not to forget - two out of three were your employers.

The realisation is enough to jolt you out of your thoughts and speculations, looking around at all of them. "I should go."

Your words are shaky, rightfully so with how much physical intimacy you received in the last hour than the last month. Neither of the three men stop surveying your tremulous tip-toeing towards the door, trying to get out of the stifling room that was feeling too small with all the bodies occupying it.

They don't stop you when you're fumbling with the golden doorknob, finally pulling open the door. Though why would this day get any easier for you, right? And what had you done in your previous life to deserve this.... predicament. Standing in front of you, was another man. That's right. Another one. Beautiful, incredibly so. He seems to be just as tall as Jimin, ivory skin with a healthy amount of flush.

"Well, hello... maid." His deep - puzzled voice sends shivers down your spine as you stare Bambi eyed at him. Why were all these men so, comically handsome? He looks just as puzzled as he sounds.

"Ah! Perfect timing Yoongi hyung." The loud, boisterous voice startles you once again, whipping around to face Hoseok while Jimin walks towards the newcomer.

"Is the another one of your role-play threesomes Jimin? Poor thing looks like she's going to cry. Unless you're a professional actress?"

The last question is directed at you as he looks into your eyes, his own lovely face frowning as he inspects your uniform. Before you can answer though, Seokjin is scoffing, taking a seat on the couch once again with the drink in his hand that he'd been pouring earlier.

"Please, I wouldn't be here if that were true. Come, have a seat. She won't cry." He waves his dismissal of you and once again - your face is heating. This time in irritation.

Yoongi just shrugs, eyes still watching you as he sits beside a lounging Seokjin who offers him a drink. "So, what's the little maid doing here?"

Jimin is smirking again as he looks towards his older brother. "Let me explain." he offers.

"Make my friend a drink, little one."

"Pardon?" Seokjin sighs, as if being greatly inconvenienced that he has to elaborate.

"Just because you got a few kisses from us doesn't relieve you of your duties, yes?" His narrowed eyes are condescending but you can't say anything. Because he was right. You were still a maid at their house despite the little stunt they pulled earlier (you were complicit).

"Y-Yes. Of course." Eyes downcast as you make your way to the liquor cabinet, taking out the bottle that Seokjin had previously to pour himself one.

"Wait, you guys kissed your maid?" Yoongi's unbelievable laugh makes the blood rush back in to your cheeks. They were discussing you like you weren't there and it was embarrassing to say the least. Though they definitely out-ranked you on the power spectrum so you doubt they really cared much about your input.

"It was a transaction, nothing much of it."

"Talk about yourself, mine was definitely more than that." Jimin is scoffing but you still hear the smirk in his voice. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

You know he's talking to you even if he doesn't know your name yet but you resist the urge to turn around, already too embarrassed at how easily you'd given in to their advances. Wiping your hands down on your uniform again to get rid of the sweat that's been accumulating, you carefully hold the heavy liquor glass. Hoping that it doesn't slip from your clammy hands otherwise you were in a lot more trouble than before.

Hands slightly shaking, you stop right before you reach the couch, bending forward to hand the newest face his glass of whiskey. You hadn't noticed before but all 4 of them had been watching you. Carefully examining your composure and the nervousness pouring off of your frame as you tried to keep your eyes on the glass. You make the mistake of glancing up at Yoongi and almost drop the glass like you'd been trying to avoid. Thankfully, he mercifully takes it from you - eyes still watching as he takes a sip.

"Sorry! Sorry..."

"That's okay little one. What's your name?"

"Wait yeah. we never asked her name." Hoseok muses from the opposite couch he's sitting on and Yoongi scoffs at them all again. But they did? Did they really forget my name already?

"Really now?" He's shaking his head mumbling 'egocentric fools' before his eyes turn back to you. "Go on."

Taking a deep breath. Wondering if you should give your real name or a fake one this time in case they try to have you fired when you're gone. You decide to be brave and tell them your name. Again.

"Y/n." No stuttering, thank god.

"How long have you been working here y/n? I would remember a pretty face like yours." Yoongi's tone is light, not flirty like his words suggested. He seemed like a person who just talked this way - complimenting people he deemed worthy of them.

"Three- Three and a half months now." Your voice gets quieter the longer your sentence goes on. The blush on your face is now permanent because of how intently all of them seem to be looking at you. you also need to fight the urge to shuffle your feet around like you were on trial for something bad you did and they were the judge and the jury. In a sense you guess that they were because you wouldn't be here otherwise.

"Hm. Somehow I'm seeing you for the first time today." You bite you tongue, wincing lightly at your own strength but you had to. Otherwise you would go on a tangent about how he really rarely looked at the staff in his own home. Seokjin just annoyed you! Biting on your lip - a nervous habit - you contemplate whether you should ask if you can go.

You were soclose before.

"Please, hyung. You would've if you stopped admiring yourself every chance you got." Jimin mocks his older brother.

"Not my fault I look like this." Seokjin is gesturing to himself like it's a great burden being that good looking. Then again you don't know. It could be.

"Settle down children." Yoongi rolls his eyes at the two brother bickering, checking his gold toned Rolex before speaking again, "so, what's this scheme I’ve been summoned for? Spit it out."

"That'll be all y/n." Jimin's charming smile is directed at you all of a sudden when Yoongi mentions the dreaded plan that you'd overheard. Nonetheless, the way your name slips off his tongue sends a small shiver down your spine, nodding at him before staggering towards the door.

"Don't forget our deal, little one." You can hear Hoseok snickering when Jimin calls out behind your retrieving figure.

Knees almost knocking into each other when you're outside the room, you let out the biggest breath that you were once again, unwarily holding. What had you gotten yourself in to?

Everything was coming crashing down onto your psyche. The gravity of the situation was settling on you and you could feel the hyperventilation lurking nearby. These were not just normal everyday people who happen to have more money than you. The Kim family was affluent and prominent. They didn't follow the normal dynamics of society like all the other wealthy and rich in this country. They made the rules that they wantedto follow. Remembering the incident from when you'd just started working here, you could feel your heart drop down to your toes.

It was your second week on the job and your timorous nature was taking a back seat slowly - getting a hang of your duties. Anders was kind and let you settle in and perhaps because you were just as old as his granddaughter he'd told you about. Minhyuk - another staff member that you'd seen around the Manor and quite honestly developed a small crush on - had been showing you the east wing and what your duties included. You didn't have much to do there as it was Mr Kim's quarters, including his study and office where he worked once in a while. Not everyone had access to that area of the house and you figured it was because of his work. maybe he was really particular about the way things were done. You just didn't think much of it.

"You will always be given your schedule of the type and duration of cleaning required the day before when it comes to Master Kim's rooms so please take note of that."

He smiles sweetly as he shows you around. The notepad in your hand, you're diligently taking notes because you did not want to risk leaving all of this new information to your forgetful nature. You swear you hear him mumble 'cute' when he's watching you but the sound of heels clicking on the marble floors distract you both. When you look up - your jaw is almost dropping to the floor. You's seen Mr Kim's partner a fair few times - on the news that is. In person she was even more... unreal. Tall, thin with equally bright and big bone structure. It didn't phase you when you learnt that she was indeed - a model.

"Good morning Am- Ms King!" Her pearly whites make a small appearance before she curls her lips in an almost sensual smile.

"Good morning Minhyuk. Who is this?" She doesn't spare you a glance when she questions, fingers lingering on his shoulder as she leans in a little close to him.

The blush lettering Minhyuk's cheek tells you that this isn't the first time she's been this close to him. He introduces you as the newest staff addition but she doesn't seem to be listening. What she does though is start to question him about his weekend. Making him almost forget that you're there. What does capture your attention meanwhile is the slight rustle - as if someone had walked away from around the corner. You're only able to catch the colour black and a suit comes to mind automatically.

"Everything alright y/n?" Minhyuk's voice makes you whip your head around back to him and you catch Ms King watching you as well.

"I-I just thought I saw someone." Ms King frowns at that.

"That must be Ryuk. Excuse me." She just smiles - one that doesn't reach her eyes as she steps away. Ryuk?

Sensing your confusion, Minhyuk answers your unanswered question. "That's Mr. Kim. His first name is Ryuk. Weird right?"

You just chuckle along with him - completely missing the underlying panicked tone. He continues the tour but after your run-in with Mr Kim's fiancé, he seems to be on edge.

The next day at work - Minhyuk is nowhere to be seen. Not the next day either. Then never again. A month later - you receive your new duties in the east wing. Minhyuk's designated area.

"Excuse me sir," Anders looks up from the sheets of paper he'd been handing out to the rest of the staff, "Isn't it M-Minhyuk's area? Am I temporarily-"

He doesn't let you finish. "He doesn't work here anymore dear. These will be your permanent duties until further notice."

Your heart clenches at his direct tone. He only spoke like this to you on your first day at work. He doesn't elaborate any further and you get the hint to not further question the change in staff.

You don't see Minhyuk again.

How were you so asinine that you didn't connect the dots before? Minhyuk's panic as he'd shown you to your duties after Mr Kim had possibly seen you three chatting with his Fiancé, him getting replaced - fired? - with you. He was simply removed from the Manor and you'd never heard his name from any of the other staff members either. It's like he never worked there. You were rapidly fading down the doomed rabbit hole. Already thinking of about a hundred ways Mr Kim's sons could have you disposed of. Maybe you were thinking too much? Not possible. With this family, anything was possible.

The tear that falls down your face has you bringing your cold hand up to your hot cheeks. Foolishly, you've forgotten to go much further away from the room you'd exited from. The panic clouding your senses as you fished for your phone from your pocket, hastily dialling your grandmother's house phone.

A few rings later, you hear your mother's annoyed tone. "H-hello Mama."

Her tone turns sickly sweet, dishonest you know but you try to trick your heart and your brain in to believing her concern. "Hi dear! Haven't heard from you in so long. Are you not at work?"

Her tone turns serious and worried instantly at the prospect of you not being at work. You also want to tell her that you called every two days after work but she never wanted to speak to you unless it was payday. But that doesn't hurt you nearly as much as her not even being remotely entered in your wellbeing.

"I am at work. Could you... could you put Nana on the phone please?"

"Um. Okay." That's it. your voice is cracking and you know she can hear you but she doesn't care enough to ask.

"Hello? y/n?"

"Nana." whimpering, you try to not burst out crying. Keeping the intense emotions at bay.

"What's wrong dear? Are you alright?" Hearing her perturbed tone at your distressed one only makes the tears fall quicker, making you slap them away so they don't blur your vision completely.

"Nana... I might be in trouble. I-I might get..." fired. You couldn't say it. Once you let her know you were a hundred percent sure your mother would be incessant in having her spill the bad news. She would make your grandmother's life hell and you couldn't do that to her. Your mother needed the steady money to keep her in rehab. You had hopes that since she was at least going to rehab - that one day she could be a good mother to you.

"What dear? You can tell me y/n." Pushing your hand over your mouth, you try and swallow the sob before it passes through the phone. Though you could already hear your mother asking your Nana what was going on.

"Be quiet Elizabeth! I'll tell you."

"I-I'm okay. I just miss you." You could do this. your grandmother didn't deserve this. No one deserved this just because you made a foolish mistake and you hope she doesn't question you further.

"We miss you too dear. So much. Will you be able to visit soon? Let her get back to work Ma." Your mother sounded angry and you wanted to scream at her through the phone that at least your grandmother cared.

"I'll let you know. I have to go now Nana. I love you."

"I love you too darling. So much." She stays on the line for a few more moments. Making sure you didn't want to say anything else.

Dropping your head down in your lap - you let the last few stray tears fall, trying to stay as quiet as possible. You needed to pull it together. Your family was counting on you to keep this job and you were going to fight for it. Even if you were several outnumbered. You had their secret and that should count for something, right? As long as you appeared strong in front of them - maybe they'll leave you alone.

Dusting off your uniform, wiping away at your face and checking it in the nearest grand mirror on the wall - you get to work. You still had a job.

What you domiss though, is the man who had witnessed your panicked tears. He hadn't expected himself to be this affected but the way his heart clenched and his hands curled into fists at your disturbed state - he'd never wanted to comfort someone this badly. Empathy. A foreign emotion indeed.

#bts #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfction #jimin x reader #jin x reader #jhope x reader #yoongi x reader #hobiwonder #lmk what you think #:)

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dibs4ever · 4 years

Text

Mommy and Daddy are hero’s

Three year old little Nathan Wayne Grayson, sat in his carseat swinging his little feet back and forth, humming a tune to himself.

“You seem happy today.” his dad spoke glancing at him in the rear view mirror

Nathan nodded “I can’t wait to talk to my friends.” He informed

Dick nodded, pulling into the parking lot of Little Gotham Academy

Parking the car Dick got out and went to the passenger side back door.

He unbuckled his son and picked him up .

Opting to carry him inside the building

Nathan smiled playing with his fathers BCPD badge that was pinned to his navy blue uniform. Dick would be going to work after he dropped his son off.

Dick set the boy down once they reached his classroom

“Have fun today Chavo.” Dick smiled hugging his son tightly “I love you.”

Nathan smiled “I love you too daddy.”

Dick grinned standing up “Mommy will be picking you up immediately after nap because we are going as a family to find out if the baby in her tummy is a boy or a girl.” He informed giving him a final wave goodbye

He nodded telling his teachers to have a nice day before exiting.

Nathan watched as his teachers glanced out the window watching his father get into his car to leave. They looked at each other and giggled before turning their attention back to the kids

They always did that when his daddy or one of his uncles came to pick him up or drop him off. He didn’t understand why.

One of the younger teachers who was an aid walked into the classroom. Smiling when she spotted Nathan. ”Nathan you're here!”

She scooped him up smiling, then looked toward Mrs. White and Ms.Lee his main teachers ”I missed seeing the hot dad!” she sighed causing the other two ladies to giggle

She set Nate down and he made his way to the art table where his friends who sat painting

“Nate! Look I’m painting my daddy.” Melanie smiled

Her brother Mark nodded “I’m drawing a T-Rex.”

“That looks just like Uncle Wally.” Nathan complimented his friend. “Guess what.” He grinned

Mark shrugged “What?”

The boy smiled “I was at Grampies yesterday and the grown ups were talking in private but I listened and they said my daddy is a superhero!”

Mrs.Lee who had been standing near by watching the trio nodded her head “Thats right he’s a police officer. Which is kinda like a super hero.”

Nate shook his head “No daddy is a really real super hero and my mommy is too.”

She smiled “Well your mommy is the mayor which yeah that is sorta similar as well. She does a lot for the city”

Mark looked between them “So Uncle Dick and Aunt Barbara aren’t like super man?”

The older woman smiled patting down Mark’s blonde hair “Well not exactly, but”

Nathan shook his head “My daddy and mommy are like Superman. And my Grampie is too.”

The woman thought “Well you are correct your grandpa was the police commissioner of Gotham for a long time.”

Nathan shook his head, dark locks falling in his eyes. His blue eyes widening as he became frustrated “No my Grampie Bruce is. And my uncles and mommy and daddy and Aunt Stephey. They said so when the grown ups were talking and mommy said to stay in the den I didn’t listen and I heard them saying they were going to do hero business tonight .”

The woman tilted her head “Now Nate when an adult tells you to do something you listen. It’s impolite to listen in on people’s conversation.” She wagged a finger ignoring the boy’s explanation

“Like you listened in on our conversation Mrs.White.” Melanie pipped up

The woman rolled her eyes at the toddler’s witty comeback

Nathan sighed “I do listen. Sometimes mommy and daddy go in their room to play grown up tickle time and I get to read books and watch movies”

Mrs. White bit her lip to fight a smile, meanwhile Ms. Lee chuckled lightly

Nathan looked between them “It’s not funny my family is super hero’s! They save people while I’m sleeping.”

Mrs. White sighed “Okay Nate why don’t you draw a picture and you can tell mommy all about what you overheard when she gets here then maybe she can explain it to you. Okay?”

Nathan nodded taking a seat, seemingly satisfied with the reasoning

Mrs.White walked over to Ms.Lee,

“The three of them are so cute together” Ms.Lee commented

Mrs. White nodded “Nathan is such an adorable little boy.” She laughed lightly “Can you believe he thinks the Wayne’s are Super Hero’s?”

Ms.Lee joined in on the laughter “I’m grateful for all the help the Wayne’s have done for our school over the years. But as hero’s who protect us?”

“We’d be better off having these three year olds save us than a group of pretty boy men and their high class wives “

Both woman shared another laugh nodding in agreement

#dickbabs #dick grayson #barbara gordon #nightwing #batfam headcanons

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us2dinosaurplanet · 3 years

Text

The Stay on Dinosaur Planet: Chapter 4-Guess Who’s Coming?

Meanwhile back on Earth, a phone call just occurred a few days ago, but not just any phone call. Ash: “Good morning, Professor.” Prof. Oak: “Ah, good morning, Ash! How are you doing today?” Ash: “I’m fine. How are you today, Professor?” Prof. Oak: “Why, I’m fine, too, thank you for asking.” Ash: “You’re welcome. Say, has Pikachu returned from her visit, yet?” Prof. Oak: “Well, no. Pikachu has not yet returned, and neither has Misty or the Powerpuff Girls as far as I can tell.” Bow: “Princess Peach hasn’t returned yet, either. I’ve received a phone call from a concerned Toad that she’s not back at the Mushroom Kingdom.” Ash: “I’m worried, Professor. It’s not like Pikachu or Misty or the girls to stay off the Earth this long. I think something has happened to them that prevented them from coming home.” Prof. Oak: “I think so, too, Ash. Get Brock and meet Lady Bow, Tracy, Gary, Ribbon, and me outside my front gate. We need to get to the bottom of this immediately.”

Later, Ash and Brock met the professor and the other near the professor’s front gate. Bow: “It’s about time you boys got here. The professor’s grandson is getting impatient.” Brock: “I’m not surprised. The girls should have been home a few days ago. This has certainly gone out of hand.” Ribbon: “I miss Misty!” Gary: “I told you we shouldn’t have trusted that Fox McCloud! If we had just left with the girls, none of this would have happened!” Ribbon: “I miss Misty!” Prof. Oak: “Now, now, settle down, everyone. I’m sure Fox has a good explanation to why the girls haven’t returned home, but we won’t find out if we just stand here, complaining about it.” Ash: “The professor’s right! If we just ask Fox, I’m sure he could tell us what’s going on.” Gary: “I highly doubt it, but it doesn’t hurt to try.” Prof. Oak: “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get going.”

The professor called upon the space taxis, then he and the guys left the Earth along with Ribbon and Lady Bow.

Later they arrived on the planet Corneria at their usual spot. They found that the girls and the Starfox team are not there. Ash: “Professor, this doesn’t seem right, I don’t see Fox, Misty, Peach, Pikachu, the girls or any of the members of the Starfox team here at all.” Prof. Oak: “Hm, you seem to be right, Ash. Let me check my radar.”

He opened a radar from his communicator. Prof. Oak: “Hm, this may seem a bit silly of me to ask this, but this is Corneria, right?” Gary: “Of, course this is Corneria! I recognize this place anywhere. I did you ask, grandpa?” Prof. Oak: “Because, according to this radar, they’re not here.” Tracy: “But if they’re not here, then where are they?” Prof. Oak: “Well, it says here that they’re on a distant planet far from here.” Ash: “You mean they’re on another planet? Pikachu, too?” Prof. Oak: “I’m afraid so, Ash.”

Suddenly, Ribbon started bursting into tears. Ribbon: “Misty!” Gary: “That Fox needs to be taught a lesson! I thought leaving the girls off the Earth this was bad enough, but bringing them to another planet, he’s gone too far this time!” Prof. Oak: “Now, now, settle down, Gary. I’m sure he has nothing to do with all of this.” Ash: “The professor’s right, Fox is a good friend of Pikachu and the girls. He would never do anything to them.” Gary: “Yeah right! He’s probably using that fact to completely throw us off course! I don’t trust him one bit! I never did and I never will!” Prof. Oak: “That’s enough out of you, Gary! Fox McCloud is a good person. He would never do anything to hurt those girls or deceive us. Now, until we find this planet, I don’t want to hear another word out of you. Understand?” Gary: “Hmph! Fine, but if anything ever happened to those girls, I won’t stay silent.” Prof. Oak: “Fair enough, let’s go, everyone.”

They left Corneria on the space taxis.

Many hours later, they finally reached Dinosaur Planet. Prof. Oak: “According to my radar, the girls are on this planet.”

They landed in Thorntail Hollow and the space taxis returned to space. Meanwhile, a certain little Earthwalker prince watched all of it occurred and ran back to Cape Claw. Tricky: “Fox! Fox!” Fox: “Hm?” Tricky: “Fox!” Fox: “Tricky?” Tricky: “Fox, you’re not going to believe this, but some humans landed on the planet. They’re at Thorntail Hollow, right now. Come on.” Fox: “OK, OK, I’m coming.”

Fox followed Tricky back to the hollow.

Meanwhile, the guys were still in Thorntail Hollow. Ash: “Professor, are you sure they’re on this planet? I don’t see them anywhere.” Prof. Oak: “100%, Ash.” Gary: “I hope so or else we’re on a wild goose chase no thanks to that no good Fox.” Brock: “We may not have any real proof that the girls are here, well, except for the radar, but one thing’s certain, Fox is definitely here. His Arwing is parked right there.” Gary: “Perfect, even if the girls aren’t here, at least we’ll have a score to settle with that Fox.” Ash: “But where is he?” Tricky: “There they are. That’s them, that’s them!” Guys: “Huh?”

Suddenly, Fox and Tricky came out from behind the Arwing. Fox: “Thanks, Tricky. Well, well, well, if it isn’t some old friends of planet Earth. Didn’t expect to see you guys here. What’s up?” Gary: “I’ll be asking the questions, here. What have done to the girls?” Fox: “What do you mean by that?” Gary: “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m saying. I know you did something to prevent those girls from coming home. Admit it, Fox!” Fox: “Excuse me? You’re trespassing on an ancient planet home to many species that are extinct on your planet and yet you have the right to accuse me of a crime I never even committed? You humans have a lot of nerve.” Gary: “Lies!” Prof. Oak: “That’s enough, Gary. I apologize for my grandson’s behavior, Fox. You see, he…” Fox: “Still hates me? That’s OK; I don’t feel very differently about him, either. Anyway, I’m guessing that you’re obviously here for the girls, right?” Prof. Oak: “Correct, it’s been weeks since they left for your home world and we’ve been quite concerned…” Gary: “Try outraged!” Ash: “I’m not outraged.” Gary: “Shut up, Ash!” Ribbon: “Gary!” Bow: “DON’T INTERRUPT THE PROFESSOR WHILE HE’S SPEAKING!!” Fox: “QUIET! Listen, I’ll take you to see the girls, but only if you guys remain silent. Understand?”

Everyone remained silent. Fox: “Good, now if we could just keep it that way, you’ll see the girls in no time. OK? OK, let’s go. Come on, Tricky.”

They followed Fox out of Thorntail Hollow and through the Lightfoot Village. Tricky: “Fox, are these guys really trespassing here?” Fox: “Nah, I was just kidding. I knew why they came all along.” Tricky: “Oh, hey, Fox, are you really going to show them what they came here for?” Fox: “Of course I am. If I don’t, then they won’t leave me alone.”

Eventually, they arrived at Cape Claw. Fox: “OK, there they are, safe and sound. Are you happy, now?”

Suddenly, Ribbon’s eyes began to sparkle after spotting Misty. She flew towards Misty and landed on her heavily. Misty: “Huh? Ribbon?”

She laid her head on Misty and began to cry on her. Ribbon: “Oh, Misty, I’ve missed you so much. You’ve been gone for so long; I thought I would never see you again.” Misty: “Oh, my stars! I’m sorry, Ribbon. I didn’t mean to get you upset. I guess I lost track of time. Well, you don’t have to worry, now. I’m OK.”

Ribbon then looked up at Misty, her eyes were still sparkling. Ribbon: “Oh, Misty…” Fox: “Looks as if somebody’s happy, ay, Gary?”

Gary groaned and looked away. Fox: “Come on, Gary, admit it.” Gary: “OK, I’ll admit it, but don’t think you’re off the hook, Fox. I’m not finished with you, yet.”

Gary walked away. Bow: “That grandson of the professor gets more stubborn each day.” Fox: “Don’t remind me; I’ve been keeping track.” Bow: “Now, then, if you excuse me, I’ve got a group to reunite with.” Fox: “Knock yourself out.”

Lady Bow slowly floated down towards where Misty and Ribbon were. Fox returned to the beach and watched as Bubbles and Princess Peach regrouped with Misty, Ribbon and Lady Bow. He has never seen a more beautiful sight. Fox: “Looks as if the Friendly 5 is back together again. So, how does it feel, girls?” Ribbon: “It feels great!” Bow: “I’ve waited a long time for this moment. I thought it would never come.” Ribbon: “Thank you, Fox.” Fox: “No problem.” Prof. Oak: “Well, will you look at that? I told you Fox was a nice person.”

Gary groaned. Fox: “Hey, guys, why don’t you come down from there?”

The guys descended from the cliff and the pier onto the beach and towards Fox. Misty got up from her lounge chair and walked next to him. Ash: “Hey, Misty! Long time no see!” Misty: “Same here, Ash. I’m sorry to worry all of you, but we’ve been very busy since we last left Earth.” Brock: “But why were you off of Earth for so long and what were you guys doing on this strange planet?” Misty: “Well, it’s a long story and I don’t think I have any time to explain.” Gary: “Nonsense! We have all the time we need and we’re not going anywhere until we get some answers. So start talking, princess!” Fox: “Don’t talk to her like that!” Misty: “Alright, already. If it means that much to you, I tell you the story. It all started when Fox became bored of our usual Cornerian-Saturday spot, so we…” Gary: “Ah-ha! I knew it! I knew you were responsible for the girls not returning home, Fox. You WERE up to no good!” Fox: “Gary!” Misty: “Gary, please! It was my fault to begin with. I was the first to agree and convinced everyone else to join in.” Prof. Oak: “Hmmm…” Gary: “Yeah, well…it was Fox’s fault for even mentioning it in the first place. That proves he’s guilty. I should has never trusted you with them, you worthless animal!” Misty: “Gary!” Prof. Oak: “That’s it, Gary! I’ve heard enough out of you. Ever since we left the Earth, the only thing I’ve heard out of you is how terrible Fox is by preventing the girls from returning home. Now, I don’t want to hear another word out of you until Misty finishes her story.” Gary: “But grandpa…” Prof. Oak: “No buts! You’ve pushed this issue too far! Sorry that had to happen you guys. I just can’t seem to control my grandson, anymore.” Fox: “It’s OK, professor. At least somebody shut him up.”

Gary glared at Fox. Misty: “Now then, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I expected the trip to take a few hours, but I was wrong. We found ourselves traveling the entire Lylat System for weeks. I thought it would last forever until General Pepper contacted us. He told us about a planet that was falling to pieces, literally. He asked us to find a way to fix the planet before it got worse. It took us days to complete the mission, but we were able to pull it off.” Brock: “Sounds like you’ve been through a lot.” Misty: “I’ll say. And do you know the best part? We made a new friend.”

Misty kneeled down and picked up cute little Prince Tricky. Misty: “Guys, I would like to introduce you to our new ally and newest best friend, Tricky, prince of the Earthwalker tribe.” Prof. Oak: “Earthwalker, Don’t you mean triceratops?” Tricky: “What’s a triceratops?” Fox: “It’s just a name humans have for your kind. Sorry, guys, but on this planet, the dinosaurs have different names. The pterodactyls are called Cloudrunner, the brontosauruses and Brontosaurus are called Hightops, the ankylosauruses are called Thorntails, Lightfoots are close to raptors and the T-rexes are called Redeyes.” Misty: “There are Woolly Mammoths found on this planet, too.” Fox: “Right, but here, they’re called Showhorns.” Prof. Oak: “Fascinating!” Gary: “Blah, blah, blah!” Prof. Oak: “Gary!” Fox: “Well, that just about sums it up.” Misty: “As I was saying, Tricky helped us out during our mission. He was able to help us through many obstacles that Bubbles and I can’t reach even with our powers. Bubbles and I love Tricky. Right, Bubbles?”

Bubbles giggled a little. Bubbles: “That’s right. He’s such a cutie.”

Misty gently dropped him as Bubbles descended to rub his tummy and giggled while doing it. Fox: “Yeah, I, on the other hand, think he’s a menace. But the girls don’t care that he’s a menace; they only care about how adorable he is.” Brock: “I’m not surprised.” Ash: “Aww!” Bubbles: “Oh, I forgot to introduce you to Tricky’s little sister.”

She picked up Beauty and ascended to the air a little. Bubbles: “This is Princess Beauty.” Fox: “Beauty hatched a couple of days ago; not long after we fixed the planet. She grew up pretty fast and she’s better behaved than Tricky.” Tricky: “But I look out for her.” Prof. Oak: “Sounds as if you got along pretty well with the inhabitants of this planet.” Misty: “Yep! We found many friendly creatures here on Dinosaur Planet.” Prof. Oak: “Dinosaur Planet, ay? What an interesting name!” Misty: “I know, I like it, too.” Brock: “By the way, that other journey you had before you came here, did you finish it?” Misty: “Well, of, course, we did! We’ve decided that we wanted to stay here on Dinosaur Planet.” Tracy: “So, it was like killing 2 birds with 1 stone by coming here.” Misty: “Exactly, not only did we save an entire planet, not to mention the entire Lylat System, our quest has ended. We love it here!” Ash: “That’s great! By the way, it’s been a long time since I’ve last seen Pikachu. Is she here?” Fox: “Pikachu? Oh, yeah, she’s still here. Pikachu, Ash is here!”

Pikachu responded to Fox’s call and ran towards Ash and climbed into his arms. Ash: “Pikachu, I’ve missed you so much.”

Pikachu began to speak. Ash: “I understand you don’t want to leave, yet. I’m only here to check on you, to see how you’re doing. You’ve been gone for so long I was worried that something may have happened to you. I’m just glad to see you’re OK.”

Pikachu spoke again. Ash: “I miss you, too, Pikachu. Thanks for letting me see Pikachu again, Fox.” Fox: “Don’t mention it.” Brock: “Now that that’s settled, I think we should head back to Earth.”

Ash nodded and summoned their space taxis to return to Earth. Prof. Oak: “Tracy, I suggest you follow Ash and Brock back to Earth.” Tracy: “But, what about you, professor?” Prof. Oak: “I think I’ll stay here for a while. I’ve got some unfinished business that I need to take care of.”

Tracy nodded, hailed a space taxi and left the planet. Prof. Oak: “Gary, I want you to stay here.” Gary: “So I can keep an eye on Fox?” Prof. Oak: “Yes! There’s something that you must know about Fox and Misty. I don’t want you to leave until you find out what.”

#Ultimate Story 2 #Dinosaur Planet #The Stay on Dinosaur Planet #Fox McCloud #Prince Tricky #Thorntail Hollow #Cape Claw #Misty #Bubbles #Ribbon #Princess Peach #Lady Bow #Ash Ketchum #Brock #Professor Oak #Gary Oak #Tracey Sketchit #Pikachu #Princess Beauty

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lovewriting-5 · 4 years

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Rules:

*gif is not mine*

6. The Gingerbread House

8. Christmas Spirit

7. Bending Laws:

It was the next morning. Same thing as yesterday morning, I woke up to the sun shining in through the windows. Claire and Stephen came downstairs all dressed and ready to go. They say “Morning, (Y/N).” I say “Morning.” Claire tells me “We’re on our way to church. We’ll be gone for a couple hours.” She quickly scribbles a note and tapes it to the front door. Her and Stephen are gone. I think I can’t believe what happened yesterday. It was crazy.

Daniel comes rushing down the stairs as I’m folding the blankets. I ask “Where you going in a hurry?” He tells me “I’m off to the neighbors.” I ask, questioningly “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Trying to sound convincing, he says “Yeah...I...Uh...talked to grandma and she said it was okay.” I tell him “Okay but be careful.” He got a smile on his face, says “Will do.” Then he was out the door with his snow gear on.

I was finishing up getting ready when I hear Sean come out of the guest room. He calls “Claire? Stephen? Anybody home?” As he comes down the stairs, I tell him “They went to church this morning.” He says “Well looks like we’re home alone.” He kissed me on the cheek. He adds “By the way, did you see Daniel leave?” I tell him “Yeah...he went to the neighbors.” Angrily, he says “I knew it! Fuck! That kid never listens!” Sincerely, I say “Come on Sean...give him a break, there are no other kids around his age.” He says “I know...he just better not do anything to get us in trouble.”

We put on our winter gear and head out the front door. We leave the front yard and cross over to the next door neighbor’s yard. He says “Okay. Let’s get this brat back home now.” We head to the front door. I was about to knock when Sean lets himself in. I think Sean, really?? We see toys levitating in the air. I ask, shocked “Daniel?” Finishing the question, he says “What is going on here?!”

The toys drop to the floor as he says “Sean, (Y/N)! Wait! Don’t freak out! I can explain!” Chris stands up and begins “Let me tell them...I know it sounds crazy...but...I have a superpower. You saw me yesterday...I know you did. I was flying! I can move things...objects...with my mind!” Sean and I cross our arms. He has red face paint all over his face. Daniel avoids eye contact with us.

Sean says “Oh! A superpower...Really?” Chris says “YES!” Trying to ease the tension, I say “Well...that’s pretty cool, Chris...So you’re like a superhero?” He explains “I’m Captain Spirit! I can bend any matter to my will! But that’s my secret identity, so you can’t tell anybody!” Sean looks at Daniel, says “Oh, we can keep a secret, Captain Spirit...”

Welcoming us to his team, Chris says “Now that both of you are official members of the Spirit Squad! If you betray us, I’ll disintegrate you! Nah, just kidding. Oh yeah, we need a...team signal!” He crosses his arms across his chest. Daniel does the same thing, “Totally! I’m gonna be...Super Wolf! What’s your super names?” Sean says “How about... ‘The Silver Runner?’ Cool? Cool, right?” I say “I’ll be ‘Invisible Girl/Boy.’” Daniel says “Not bad! That’s true you both are good at running and hiding.”

The man from yesterday comes out of the bathroom. He says “Okay guys, I think we’re ready to roll...” He notices us, asks “Uh, excuse me...Who are you?” Shaking his hand, I tell him “I’m (Y/N).” Sean shakes his hand, “I’m Sean.” The man introduces himself, “Oh yeah, sorry...You’re here for Daniel. Hey, let’s make it official. I’m Charles Eriksen.” I say “Nice to meet you.”

Charles says “Hope you both know that Daniel and Chris are a dangerous team...We’d better watch out, or they’re gonna take over the world...” I cross my arms and smirk at Daniel. He gives a quick shy smile. Sean says “Yeah...They share a lot of things...As thick as thieves...” Excitedly, Chris asks “Can we go get the Christmas tree now? We’re both ready to fly!” Charles says “Yes, yes, yes...the team has been waiting too long! You guys should come along too. There’s nothing going on over here...”

Daniel says “YES! Can’t wait to see all the decorations! And Sean, (Y/N)! We could buy Christmas presents for grandma and grandpa...!” Not trying to sound like a downer but I remind him, “Well...They’ll worry if we leave the house...And remember you still have to get better, Daniel...” Trying to convince us, he says “Come on...You both know I haven’t done anything fun since I got sick...It’s the first time I’ve been out for daaays!” Charles explains “We won’t be gone for long, the market’s only a few miles away...Anyway, they’ll be at the service for at least another hour...” Chris adds “Yeah, I can show Daniel around...and you both can come with us! Please say yes!”

Sean and I look at each other. Daniel puts his hands together in a praying motion, “Please, please, please...” I chew the inside of my bottom lip. Sean says “Okay...You win...not a fair fight...So let’s go...” At the same time, Daniel and Chris say “Yes!” Charles says, jokingly “See? Dangerous...Okay team, I...give me a time out to clean up the backseat. I’ll honk when I’m done.”

Charles walks outside. Daniel asks “Ooo...uh...Can I use the bathroom?” Chris tells him “Of course! You’ll see my comic books.” Daniel scurries off to the bathroom. He turns back to us, says “I’m glad you’re both coming too...Hey, you guys wanna see my toys?” The three of us sit on the floor next to his toys. From the bathroom, we hear a faint “Oh! Score! The new Hawt Dawg Man!” I chuckle a little.

Chris begins “Since you’re new members of the team, you have to know everybody...These are Captain Spirit’s friends! And his enemies...” Sean says “Dude! That’s pretty cool...” He asks “Can you guys guess who are the good guys and the villains?” I say “Let’s see...”

The two of us tag teamed the decision. As we were placing them, Chris says “The bad guys...The good guys...Not that easy, right?” We finished placing them, he asks “You suuuuure?” Sean asks “Okay. How did we do?” According to him, “Not bad! You’re almost right...It was a bit tricky.” Turns out we put Insectoid, Dino and Pirate on the villain side. Power Bear, Warrior and a shark car on the hero side.

Chris corrects the wrong ones, explains “This is Team Spirit! The good guys. There’s the Forest Warrior, Power Bear, Mar-T Rex and Sky Pirates.” I ask “So...who are the bad guys?” He explains “That’s Noctarious, and the Shark-Stinger. There’s also Snowmancer, but he’s out in the garden. Captain Spirit kinda...took care of him. He might need a little surgery now...But they’re all working for Mantroid, who’s the REAL supervillain!” Sean asks “So...where is he?” He says “Hiding out on his evil planet, waiting for me...But Captain Spirit and Super Wolf will make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone!” I say “Yeah...strength in numbers. Sounds like Mantroid is in trouble.” Chris continues “Just wait until he sees what Captain Spirit can do now...”

“Yeah...about that...Ummm...Aren’t you afraid...? Maybe...it’s not a good idea to disclose all your powers like this...That Mantroid guy could be...watching you, you know...” I add. Mischievously, Chris says “Even better. So he’ll know he’d better stay away from us!” Sean adds “Anyway, you shouldn’t let anyone know about this. Not even your father...” Sounding like he wants to say something but hold back, “I’m definitely not telling dad. I don’t want to freak him out. He’s worried about other stuff anyway...”

I glanced at Sean. He looked like he was going to press on further. I placed a hand on his arm, say “Well...Your dad is cool. He...totally hooked you up with that tree house.” Chris says “Yeah, he let Stephen build it for me! It’s my Flying Fortress!” Sean says “Oh, yeah...I saw that drawing you made of him. With that...badass blazing sword.” Grateful, Chris says “I made it to thank him. For making the tree house. Well, Captain Spirit had to help him, of course!” I say “Obviously. All hail Captain Spirit, first and only...carpenter vigilante!”

Sean says “Well...the Flying Fortress needs fixing now...” Chris says “Yeah...That sucks. Dad couldn’t fix it yesterday...He was not feeling well...He told me he’ll do it when we’re back from the market.” I chew the inside of my bottom lip, contemplating about asking. I ask, sincerely “Chris...It’s...none of our business, but...are you and your dad okay?” Questionly, he asks “Uh, what do you mean?” Sean chimes in “We don’t know...Claire seems to...be worried about you guys. Yesterday...Stephen and her talked about your dad...I think they had a talk with him...” He says “Claire’s always worried. We’re cool. Totally. He’s just...He...has a hard time being on his own...that’s all.”

“Chris...We know life can get pretty tough. Trust us. But...you’ll be okay. You’re an awesome kid.” I tell him. Chris says “Thanks. But I don’t feel scared anymore. I have the power...And I have Daniel!” Sean says “That’s cool.”

Charles honks the horn to signal us that the backseat is cleaned and ready to go. I say “There’s the signal.” Sean calls in the direction of the bathroom, “Come on, Daniel.” He comes out, says “Hey! Pro-tip: don’t...don’t go in there.” The three of us, say “Ew.” Sean says “Okay, Squad, let’s roll.”

We head outside to the black pickup truck. Charles opened the back hatch. Chris and Daniel climb in. Sean asks him “You need my jacket? We don’t want you catching another cold...” A little embarrassed, Daniel says “No, I’m good. Thanks...” Charles says “And don’t be waving your arms around when I’m driving, okay?” As soon as he turned his back, they jokingly waved their arms around. Sean reminds him “Yeah. Remember, Daniel, don’t mess around...” He says, annoyed “All right. Jeez...”

Charles gets in the driver seat. Sean and I squeeze onto the passenger seat. He sat closest to Charles while I sat right against the door. Charles says to Chris “Thanks for clearing the snow from the porch! You’re...You’re awesome!” Chris says muffled by the window, “You’re welcome, dad!” He pulls out of the driveway and head to the Christmas Market.

#Sean Diaz x reader #Sean Diaz imagines #Life is Strange 2 fanfiction #Sean Diaz #Life is Strange 2 #LiS2 #Life is Strange #LiS #Life is Strange fanfiction #Life is Strange x reader #Life is Strange 2 x reader

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ranger-njoyc · 4 years

Text

12 Days Til Cottage Cheese

Day 4:

Theme: Fire, pranks(I combined them)

Description: The Story of Why Stan is Suspicious of Kendra and Seth Working on Projects Together: The Story That Literally No-one Asked For, But Are Getting Anyways

Details: I guess it relates to and takes place before Day 1: Love.

---

How had this happened? Seth blearily opened his eyes and sat up. Kendra was on the ground next to him, groaning and rubbing her eyes. He nudged her with his foot, frantically looking in front of them. The ground was on fire. The table was on fire. The chair was starting to catch, and Kendra and Seth would too be on fire if they didn’t get away soon.

“C’mon,” Seth yelled, dragging Kendra into a sitting position. Her eyes seemed to clear, and then grew as she took in the huge mess of things. She scrambled up with Seth and they hurriedly backed away, eyeing the steadily growing flames.

“Somebody get the hose!” Kendra screamed over her shoulder. In less than two seconds flat, Dale came running, hose in hand from one side of the house. Someone else was coming out too- Grandpa Sorenson came out of the house and simply stood in the doorway, deadpan.

“What.” His voice held no emotion.

Seth shrugged at him- he had no words to defend himself. Their table, which they had moved to the middle of the yard for safety, was now put out by Dale. Seth struggled to remember for a minute, but then realization flooded him.

Kendra seemed to have recalled what they were doing just a few minutes ago as well, for she sported an extremely guilty look.

“Don’t look so shifty,” Seth muttered to her out of the corner of his mouth.

“This one time- the one time I agree to help with one of your pranks, and this happens!” Kendra moaned.

---

2 hours ago

“Kendra! I need your help with something,” Seth rounded the corner and stuck his head into the room. Kendra lay on her stomach, heavily engrossed in her book. “Kendra!” Seth walked over and snapped in front of her nose.

Kendra swatted his hand away, but reluctantly set her book to one side. “So what can I help you with?” Kendra rested her chin on her palm.

“How does one make a bomb?”

Kendra blinked. “A bo-” Then her face grew into the very definition of suspicious. “-why?”

Seth shrugged half-heartedly, as if he wasn’t bouncing up and down inside. “...No reason,” he finally answered.

Kendra narrowed her eyes even further, and looked Seth up and down, taking in his old, stained shirt. “You’re planning a prank,” She declared.

Seth immediately started to protest, but Kendra cut him off.

“Oh please, I can tell.”

His shoulders sagged. “You’re going to warn them, aren’t you?”

Kendra’s eyes gleamed. “That depends. What are we doing with this bomb, did you say?”

A devious smile spread across Seth’s face as he started to explain his master plan.

---

“So… basically,” Kendra said, picking up his notepad. “A shrapnel bomb, but instead of shrapnel it’s cereal and hot milk?”

Seth made a face. “Well, when you put it that way,” he complained. “But come on, it’ll be so cool. We throw one- it implodes on impact-”

“Explodes,” Kendra corrected.

Seth carried on as if she hadn’t spoken. “It sprays scorching hot liquid and chunks of little rock-”

Kendra raised her hand patronizingly.

Seth smacked her hand down. “Yes, they’ll be just like tiny pebbles, we��ll freeze the cereal pieces,” He said, anticipating her question.

“Why cereal?”

“Like I was saying, it will be annoying and confusing to everyone, but there is no chance of anyone getting hurt.” Seth looked proud of himself.

“This is the most pointless thing we’ve ever done.”

“Pretty much.”

“We still don’t know how to construct a bomb,” Kendra pointed out.

Seth waved off her concerns. “How hard can it be?”

---

Present

As Grandpa Sorenson started marching across the lawn, the siblings froze. Behind them, Dale cackled. Seth shot him a quick glare, before answering Kendra.

“As I recall,” He murmured, “You were pretty eager to join in, it wasn’t my fault you wanted to make a bomb.”

“Yeah, well, technically it was your fault, because it was your idea,” Kendra retorted, and they both cracked a smile. It was a long-standing joke between them.

“Wait, did you say a bomb?” Dale was now looking slightly concerned. “You guys were making a bomb?” Kendra was frantically jerking her head, begging Dale to shut up with her eyes, but he didn’t notice.

As luck would have it, Grandpa Sorenson was within earshot.

His jaw worked for about a minute. “You were doing what?”

“It was just a joke, we weren’t actually,” Seth said, at the same time Kendra said, “It wasn’t going to cause any damage.”

Seth glared at her, betrayed, and then smiled his most innocent smile at Grandpa Sorenson.

---

“So, in conclusion, we had no clue how to make a bomb. We kinda just,” Seth waved around his arms vaguely, “And something went wrong, it exploded.”

“Well, yes, that’s generally what a bomb does,” Dale chuckled.

“No, but this bomb wasn't supposed to explode,” Seth said, waving his arms some more.

“Yes, that’s right,” Grandpa Sorenson raised an eyebrow. “You were attempting to make a cereal bomb. May I ask why?”

Kendra stayed silent. Seth fidgeted for about a minute, before slowly replying, “No reason.” Kendra bit back a grin at the familiar argument.

Grandpa Sorenson rolled his eyes and turned around, stalking back to the house and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “What the hell are kids doing for fun these days?”

Kendra and Seth simply smiled.

#15 days til cottage cheese challenge #12 days til cottage cheese #fablehaven #Dragonwatch #kendra sorenson #seth sorenson #dale burgess #stan sorenson #fanfiction

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kricketwritesstories · 4 years

Text

Title: Pack Your Bags Cause We’re Getting Married

Fandom: Avengers

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters: Bucky, Reader, Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Tony

Summary: Bucky finally gets up the courage to confess his love for the Reader...but she's already engaged?

Bucky felt positively giddy as he left his apartment this morning. After a long bro to bro talk with Steve that lasted until the wee hours of the morning, it was decided.

Today was the day he asked Y/N to be his girlfriend.

From the moment they met, Bucky knew she was the one. It was like he was compelled to tell her everything; he couldn't help but open up to her. Her smile lit up his world and her laugh made his heart soar. For the past six months he'd been trying to get the courage to ask her to be his. Every single time he'd try his mouth would go dry, his hands would sweat, and he ended up asking her, "How about that local sports team?"

He'd done this so many times that Y/N had taken to answering him, "I hear they eat their young."

Rubbing the back of his neck and blushing furiously at his cowardice, she would laugh and so would he because dammit that laughter was infectious!

He took a deep breath as he approached her door. It took him by surprise to find the door open. Stealthily he positioned himself in the doorway. Y/N was sprawled out on her bed curled on her side facing the door. She took no notice of Bucky's presence because her eyes were focused on her phone. Her face was tinged pink and she was grinning like an idiot. Bucky sighed and leaned in the doorway watching her. It was a dreamlike moment until he heard a Scottish voice on the other end of the phone proclaim, "Pack your bags, cause we're getting married!"

Y/N squealed and rolled on to her back, her eyes never leaving her phone. Bucky felt his heart shatter into a billion pieces.

"If he doesn't think you're the right size because your thighs touch or your curves aren't in the 'right places' fuck that! You're a champion! You're amazing the way you are, and remember size doesn't matter if 90% of your dick is your personality," he continued.

Bucky couldn't stand to hear anymore. He stumbled down the hallway towards the elevator. When he reached the common living room he threw himself on the couch and turned on the TV, Sam, Steve, and Nat stopped talking.

"Buck," Steve said carefully, "how -"

"CAN'T A GUY WATCH," he paused and took a good look at the TV, "JAKE AND THE NEVERLAND PIRATES IN PEACE?!"

"Shit," he thought to himself, "of course it's still on the channel we had on last night while we babysat Clint's kids."

He stared at the TV as he thought back to the night before. For some reason, outside of Nat, Clint's kids loved having Y/N and Bucky babysit them. He let Lila braid his hair while Y/N played pirates Cooper. The ended the night all piled on the couch watching Disney Junior. His heart ached remembering the sight of baby Nathaniel cradled in Y/N's arms. He dared himself to imagine briefly that this was their family, and now all those hopes were obliterated.

Sam leaned over and whispered to his fellow Avengers, "Is Snow Miser seriously watching Disney Junior?"

"Maybe he really doesn't like Captain Hook, that sneaky snook," Natasha joked.

"Something must've went wrong when he tried to," Steve started to muse before he realized he was talking out loud.

His face went beat red and he prayed the other two didn't hear him. Well, his prayers weren't heard but his words sure were.

"Oh my God, did he try and ask Y/N out again," Nat said hopefully.

"Please, I'm pretty sure his balls froze off from all the years in cryo - he's been trying for months and he just can't do it," Sam mocked.

"Come on guys, cut him some slack," Steve pleaded.

"Steve. He's a grown ass man watching Jake and the Neverland Pirates intensely - like he's going to miss a plot point," Sam pointed out.

"Good afternoon everyone," Y/N greeted cheerfully.

"Good woah," Sam stuttered.

Typically Y/N wore oversized fandom t-shirts with zip-up hoodies, ripped up jeans, and a pair of beat up converse. Everyone knew she had confidence issues when it came to her body. It didn't matter that everyone called her 'cute' and 'adorable,' she wanted to be sexy and she didn't think she could be with the body she had.

Today, her confidence was through the roof. She wore a maroon off the shoulder lace top that hugged her curves, a black skater skirt, and open toed heals. Her make up, while usually natural, was done a touch more dramatic. Her E/C eyes were practically glittering with happiness.

Bucky refused to look from the TV, even despite Sam's reaction. He could feel bitterness tighten in his chest.

"Well, well, well," Nat said impressed, "what's the occasion Y/N?"

"Didn't she tell you," Bucky said bitterly unable to control the words that spewed from his mouth, "she's engaged."

Steve spit out the coffee he was drinking, drenching Sam in the process.

"Nice," Sam said curtly as he stood up to go clean himself off.

"I didn't think you were even seeing anyone," Natasha said as she looked cautiously between Bucky and Y/N.

Before Y/N could answer Bucky, still staring at the TV, started ranting, "Oh well it's because it's some Scottish guy she's seeing on her phone with that head seeing thing."

He was silent for just a few moments, but Y/N just couldn't get her words out she was so taken aback.

"Also I'll have you know," he shouted causing everyone to freeze, "that I've always thought your curves are sexy and beautiful. I've never thought they weren't in the right places. Your body, your face, your personality - it's all perfect to me."

Y/N couldn't will herself to breathe let alone move a muscle. Even Sam was stock still with paper towels bunched in his hands, he still hadn't made a move to clean the coffee off of himself.

"And another thing," Bucky shouted louder, his voice cracking, "I'll have you know that my dick is huge - and none of it has to do with my personality - and that it was that size even BEFORE the super soldier serum!"

"What fresh hell," Tony said confused as he walked into the awkward scene, "why is Terminator talking about his gun size?"

"James," Y/N said with a cautious yet amused tone, "were you at my door this morning?"

"I may have been walking by," Bucky admitted grumpily.

"So you heard Daniel -," Y/N started.

"What kind of fucking punk ass name is Daniel," he snapped, voice dripping with jealousy.

"Who the hell is Daniel," Tony said confused.

"Y/N's Scottish fiancé," Bucky spat bitterly.

"Daniel Euan Henderson," Y/N said in a strained voice.

"Y/N Henderson, huh," he said curtly, "well I hope you two are very happy together. I'm sure we'll miss you on the team."

"Y/N's leaving the team," Tony questioned in horror.

"- is a YouTuber," Y/N attempted once again to continue.

"Wow...what an exciting job," Bucky taunted, "someone who films themselves talking about shit is so much better than one of earth's mightiest heroes."

"Y/N is marrying a YouTuber," Tony asked as his confusion kept climbing.

"- who films himself talking to girls," Y/N tried yet again.

"Hmm he sounds real faithful there, good pick," Bucky said stubbornly while his eyes were still glued to Jake.

"- to help encourage them about their body image," Y/N explained as she finally was able to move herself forward.

"Well clearly it's working for you, sweet cheeks," Tony noted winking as he took in Y/N's appearance.

"I've been watching him for months now," Y/N continued ignoring Tony's comment.

"Oh wow," Bucky said hurt, "you've been seeing him for months?"

"Watching," Y/N corrected, "to try and boost my confidence -"

"Well he proposed so I guess it worked," Bucky said sadly.

"So Y/N is getting married," Tony asked.

"OH MY GOD I AM NOT ENGAGED! I AM NOT SEEING ANYONE! I'VE BEEN WATCHING HIS VIDEOS TO GAIN CONFIDENCE SO I CAN DO THIS," Y/N screamed exasperated.

She stalked over to the TV, turned it off, and faced James Buchanan Barnes. The moment he finally looked at her, he couldn't breathe. All jealousy and animosity flew from his mind and all he could think was how exceptionally beautiful Y/N was.

Steeling her nerves Y/N walked over to the couch. In one swift movement, before she lost her nerve, Y/N straddled Bucky's lap, placed her hands on his face, and kissed him for all he was worth.

Bucky's hands flew, one to hold the back of her neck and one to hold her waist, as he kissed Y/N back with abandon.

Y/N pulled back panting, and leaned her forehead against his. "So," she breathed, "how about that local sports team?"

Bucky's smile threatened to take over his whole face it was so big. "I hear they eat their young," he responded before kissing her again.

Natasha, Steve, and a still coffee soaked Sam all sighed dreamily as they watched the scene play out.

"What sports team eats their young and why do they have young in the first place," Tony cried out in horror, breaking the silence.

Bucky and Y/N broke their kiss because they couldn't stop laughing. They fell sideways onto the couch, still holding onto one another.

"To be clear," Y/N said seriously, "you're mine now, and I'm yours."

Bucky's eyes darkened at her words. "Also to be clear, I meant everything I said earlier," he said huskily as he glanced downward.

Y/N blushed furiously and buried her head in his neck to whisper, "I can't wait to find out myself."

In a split second, Bucky was on his feet and he threw Y/N over his shoulder. She squealed in delight as he carried her out of the room.

"You may want to invest in some noise cancelling headphones, Stevie," Bucky called back to his best friend and fellow floor mate.

Steve groaned, but couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. "Well at least my ship has sailed," he sighed.

Sam gasped, "Look at you grandpa, using that young people lingo like a boss!"

"What the actual fuck just happened," Tony shouted as his eyes went wide and his hands shot out as if he was trying to keep his balance.

Nat walked over to him and patted his head sympathetically and promised, "I'll tell you when you're older."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #reader insert #mutual pining #love confessions #jealous bucky #confused tony #misunderstanding #steve is a good bro

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rora-s · 3 years

Text

The Derivative Chapter 4: Talk

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 3

“In twenty years of teaching. I’ve never received evaluation comments like these.” Larry complained as we followed my uncle on an afternoon hike. “Boring. Me? Intellectually inaccessible.”

“I thought we came up on this hike to get your mind off of this ridiculous thing.” Charlie pointed out.

“I mean, one student even said I’m out of touch with cutting-edge thinking in multidimensional theory. That one alone kept me up at night” Larry explained as we scaled a small incline.

“The first two seem plausible but the third” I shrugged “don’t let it get under your skin”

“Thank you young enigma for the jaded advice” Larry murmured.

“Anytime” I replied with a smirk.

“Everybody gets bad evaluations now and then. Come on!” Uncle C hurried us along.

“Yeah, yeah says the professor who never received anything less than a rave” Larry replied sarcastically.

I chuckled “rave? Really?”

“Indeed student body favorite practically” Larry informed me.

“As with any large group, there are responses that cover the entire spectrum. I once had a girl in my combinatorics seminar tell me that I was disorganized and I talked too fast.” Charlie explained as Larry leaned on a branch to catch his breath and I took a sip of my water bottle, wondering how I managed to get dragged out here with these two.

“Well, that’s an accurate observation actually.” Larry admitted. Charlie gave a mildly bewildered look directed at me and I nodded my agreement “but, generally speaking, I mean, your students love you, whereas mine say my classes put them to sleep.”

“You’re an exceptional professor.” Charlie reassured his friend. “I should know I took classes from you.”

“Yeah but you were an exceptional young mind” Larry pointed out as a couple other hikers passed us “perhaps I’ve lost my ability to reach the more typical student”

“Hey Professor Fleinhardt,” one of the passing boys nodded to Larry.

“Hey” the physicist greeted happily “How’s it… how’s it… how you… how…” Each attempt made to continue conversation failed on the man’s part as the boys continued to walk either not registering or ignoring the professor's attempts. “See we’re not even in class,and still my students run away from me.”

“Hiking away technically” I corrected casually.

There was then the sound of a police siren in the distance “I don’t think that’s it” Charlie muttered from his higher vantage. He began to hurry off in the direction the students had gone. Me and Larry followed. “Right down this way. Hurry!”

What greeted us was a full scale crime scene. With a coroner's truck, police officers, and others gathered masses of observation. As we got around the corner of a police car I felt my feet freeze to the ground. There was a body laying a couple yards away below the bridge overhead.

I felt the ghost of rain drops on my skin and felt the family spiking headache rocket through my brain. They were in a red hoodie. It was a boy. But each time I blinked as I began to do so furiously I was switching between this reality and the one of the girl with bright red hair. The rain was picking up, the headache was pulsing. I couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Abby” I snapped my head around as a hand laid on my shoulder. Charlie was looking at me with concern evident in his features. “Are you alright?”

I bounced my eyes around the scene. It wasn’t raining, it wasn’t at night, and we weren’t out on that street. I took a couple calming breaths before finally replying “yeah yeah fine” I muttered.

“You sure?” Charlie asked again.

“Fine” I reiterated. I caught Larry eyeing me worriedly as well. “Guys seriously I just- I didn’t expect that” I gestured vaguely in the direction of the body I did not need, or want, to look at again.

“Me neither” Charlie murmured in agreement, taking his hand off my shoulder and his features turning to one of contemplation as he looked at the bridge.

“Very well, you were just exhibiting the common signs of what one might call a panic attack” Larry voiced.

“I’m fine, really just rattled” I tried to sound convincing. From the look on Larry’s face he wasn’t convinced but he dropped the issue and for that I was glad.

_________________

3rd POV.

Don sighed as he got out of his car and headed into the FBI building. His phone beeped as he made his way through the lobby and he looked to see it was Abby. “hey kid what’s up?” he answered trying to sound like he had some energy.

“Am I going to the apartment or Grandpa’s house after school today?” she asked, sounding about as tired as he felt.

Don thought about it for a minute “go on to your Grandpa’s alright I’ll call the school clear it up”

“So you are looking into the guy who jumped off the bridge?” Abby asked as Don clicked the elevator button.

“Just a little for Charlie’s sake” Don muttered then a thought occurred to him. “Wait how do you know about this? Charlie talk to you?”

“Uh… I was there when Larry and Charlie came upon the scene” Abby admitted.

Don let off a breath. “You alright? I mean that can be some scary stuff.” he couldn’t help thinking about his first jumper case.

“Yeah I’m fine I just wish people would stop asking” Abby grumbled snappily that did not reassure Don at all of her being fine.

“Abby, it's okay if some of this got to you” Don reassured as the elevator opened and he got on.

He heard her sigh on the other line “I know it’s just… it’s not what people think it’s about and it’s hard to talk about” Don was confused at the answer but before he could probe more she was continuing “I have to get to class now. See you later”

“Yeah okay, bye” Don muttered before she hung up. He let off a breath pocketing his phone. He was going to have to deal with that later, or maybe it would be better to let her work through it on her own? He was still contemplating these thoughts when the elevator opened and he was walking out. “Dad? What are you doing here?” he questioned seeing the man.

“I called you; you hadn’t called me back” Alan explained.

“Well, I would’ve eventually” Don assured “is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Alan muttered in reply “I need you to come to dinner at the house on Wednesday. Um, I have a date”

“Oh yeah? A date” Don tried to sound encouraging. “Hey, well, that’s good. With who?”

“Oh, someone Art knows from yoga” Alan explained. “Yeah, her name’s Jill. he says she’s smart, she’s funny, and, uh, quite flexible” Alan spoke the last compliment to the woman with a hinting look and slight chuckle “So I.. we’re having dinner at the house and I would like you to be there.”

“Wow, hey, no.” Don began to quickly try and work his way out of the perceivably awkward dinner. “Just take her somewhere low-key. You’ll be fine” he suggested leading his dad back to the elevator.

“Look, it’s my first date in over 35 years.” Alan grumbled “I would like ‘memorable’ instead of ‘low-key’”

“‘Low-key’ and ‘memorable’ aren’t mutually exclusive.” Don objected “you know what my favorite date ever was? Pepperoni pizza in a laundromat.”

“Yes, which explains the conspicuous absence of grandchildren.” Alan muttered then thought “well I guess planned grandchildren.” Don sighed and gave his father a look “So, Wednesday, 7:30. Bring a date?”

Don shook his head “I can’t. Dad, I’m busy, and I don’t anticipate meeting anyone between now and then either. By the way your unplanned grandchild is heading to your house after school in” he glanced at his watch “40ish minutes so you should get going.”

“Of course she is” Alan sighed “No, but anyway I just want to make it a couples thing, you know? Look like, seeming like…”

“Well I don’t think-” Don cut off as the elevator opened with a ding revealing Terry standing there.

“Hi” she greeted Don “hey Mr. Eppes” she also greeted Alan with a mild curiosity to his presence evident on her face. Her and Alan switched spots as she exited the elevator and he entered. “Good to see you”

“You too” Alan agreed as she walked away then he turned to his son “you’ll think of something” he made a suggestive nod after Don’s partner. The FBI agent sighed as the doors slid shut and he walked away.

________________

Abby POV.

I headed into my grandfather’s house tiredly. I hadn’t slept last night after seeing that boy the other day. Images of him and another memory from months ago swapping places and intermingling in my mind. It was like my brain was caught in a cyclone.

“Abby? You here?” Gramps called from his chair as I came in the door.

“Yeah” I called back.

He looked over at me, glasses perched on his nose. “You alright you look beat”

“Just tired,” I admitted taking a seat next to him. Tossing my bag on the floor.

“Rough day at school?” he quizzed.

I shook my head “trouble sleeping. Charlie didn’t tell you? A CalSci student committed suicide yesterday. Larry, Uncle C, and I stumbled upon the crime scene while going for a hike” I explained.

“Oh my word” Alan sighed “that’s horrible I mean I saw the news. That poor boy’s parents but you seeing that. I’m sorry”

I shook my head “no I’m fine it’s not-” I swallowed my words.

“Not what?” Alan prompted my abrupt stop. “Abby, listen if this is making it hard for you to sleep I don’t think it’s nothing. If you try talking about it maybe it’ll help”

“It’s just- it’s hard to explain sometimes.” I voiced carefully.

Alan put down the paper he was reading and removed his glasses shifting in his seat to face me. “It can’t hurt to try and explain it Abby”

I bit my lip but let off a sigh collecting my thoughts for a moment “because of my AEM, my memory thing, I- I get these- these attacks. It’s my memory but it’s things I don’t want to remember don’t choose to remember. And- and these intrusive memories they just- sometimes in the moment I can’t keep them straight from reality it’s it’s-”

“It's scary,” Alan finished my sentence, reaching out to give my hand a squeeze. I nodded “and these attacks they’re like panic attacks? Triggered by something?”

“Yeah they’re a lot like that” I replied feeling oddly better now that someone knew about it. “My blinders and music help calm me down” I told him, finding it easier to continue now that I’d started. Alan nodded taking in the information easily.

“So seeing that scene, this boy, it caused one of these attacks?” he deduced. I nodded “your mother?”

“No” I objected quickly, opening my mouth to say more but feeling it cut off by visions of red hair and pools of water on the ground under street lights. I swallowed.

“It’s okay if you can’t talk about it yet” Alan reassured me and I looked up at him again “just know when you do I’m here for you so is Charlie and your father. Now you might get tired of me saying this but uh.. Abby you’re not alone and- and if these intrusive memories are a struggle for you you should tell Don about them”

“I know” I smiled lightly “It’s just-”

“Hard” Alan finished my thought again “some of the most important parts of life are”

I sighed knowing he was right “thanks for listening”

“Of course” he nodded and picked his glasses and paper, back up again. “Oh, uh by the way. You’re going to be hanging out with your Uncle Charlie Wednesday night or otherwise at Don’s”

“Why?” I asked in confusion.

“I have a, uh, a date and I’ve asked your father to be there hopefully with his own date.” Alan explained awkwardly.

I scoffed “Don on a date?”

“Yes, that’s not a problem for you is it?” the man asked.

“No” I objected but the slight curling in my stomach was telling me internally the opposite. “I’m going to go work on my homework upstairs,” I told Alan, grabbing my bag.

“Alright” Alan nodded, perching his glasses back on his nose. I sighed getting to my feet and heading from the room.

____________________

“Let’s see how it does in high winds.” Charlie stated, beginning to type the information into the computer.

Larry made a humming noise and looked over at me “and what are you reading over there?”

“Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix” I replied.

“Fascinating” Larry nodded “I have to say I wouldn’t have pegged you as one who read young adult fiction despite your age. I was informed you read quite a leap beyond your level”

“I do” I answered easily “doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a good story and relatable characters”

“Fair enough” Larry agreed then made another humming noise of thought “you know young adult literature much like it’s intended audience tends to be underestimated in the long run by people. Such as the young man whose work we are interpreting was ignored by his elders in his warnings”

I scoffed turning the page of my book “preaching to choir here”

“School still won’t let you in advanced classes?” Charlie asked.

“No” I mumbled “I mean they do realize it’s not my fault I missed so much school”

“Yes, well if you ask me the greatest failing for one who wants to be an educator is to grow up and forget what it means to be young” Larry mused.

“How profound” Charlie muttered sarcastically “now can we focus please?”

“Why of course” Larry agreed, shooting me a look before I turned back to my story.

__________________

“Hey Chuck what’d you find?” Don asked, coming into the office alongside Terry.

“The problem is wind” Charlie explained, shuffling over to where Larry sat and I stood behind the computer.

“Wouldn’t they have already tested for stability in winds?” Don questioned, dubious.

“Engineers test structural response to gusts along two axis north to south and east to west.” Larry informed

“And, in those cases, a single side supported by two corners bears the brunt of the wind load” Charlie carried on the explanation.

“Think of a straight-on wind as two cars colliding” Charlie posed the analogy “in contrast-- excuse me--” he shuffled Larry out of his seat to take control of the computer “quartering winds hit a building at an angle, exerting pressure on two sides anchored by a single corner.”

“It’s like one target, two bracing going to two targets one bracing” I voiced with a shrug. The non-mathematically inclined people still looked mildly confused.

“Imagine a car getting hit from the back and the side simultaneously.” Charlie continued with the car analogy.

“Can those winds cause structural issues?” Terry inquired.

“Our tests showed that the Cole Center is sound for head-on winds of up to 90 miles an hour” Charlie showed them the simulation “but here’s what happens with quartering winds as low as 60 miles per hour” he plugged it into the simulation and began to narrate what we were showing them “first the steel frame bends beyond its limits and stays bent. Then this strained steel hardens and becomes brittle. Under continuing stress this steel will fracture, causing complete structural collapse.” the computer beeps rapidly as the simulation reached its third stage “Finn Montgomery found the problem in the building’s deflection. He suspected the effects would be serious.” Charlie stated as the digital building collapsed “he was right and he may have paid with his life”

“Alright we’ll bring it up to Cole, get people out of the building to start then start looking to see who’s responsible” Don assured.

“Thanks Don” Charlie nodded.

“Yeah well we still gotta see what Cole says, alright” Don told his brother.

“Sounds like an early day tomorrow” Terry voiced “I better get home then”

“Yeah, thanks for coming tonight” He told her. Shuffling away from those of us still testing the math on the simulation by the computer.

“You’re welcome and it was for the most part enjoyable” Terry told him. “See you tomorrow. Have a good night you three” she called to us with a wave.

We called back fair wells in response as she headed from the office. “Alright kid we should get back too. Got school in the morning”

I heaved a sigh “right coming. Night Uncle C, bye Larry”

“Night,” Charlie called, not looking up from his computer and Larry offered a wave.

I grabbed my bag and books and followed Don out of the office. “So you and Terry had fun?”

“Uh yeah more than dad anyway. Bit of a train wreck for the poor guy” Don explained. I made a humming noise of acknowledgement wondering what had gone so wrong to qualify as a train wreck. “Listen, I know you said you were fine with this whole thing but- uh you know I’ve seen enough to be able to tell when someone’s not fine and it’s okay if you need space to deal with it or whatever but uh, I just I guess if you have to talk about it.” he kinda trailed off with gesturing hands as words failed him.

“We really suck at this communications thing” I determined.

Don scoffed as we exited the building “yeah well at least we’re trying”

“True,” I murmured and took a deep breath. “there is something I need to tell you. There’s this thing I have. Gramps correlated it with panic attacks but it’s part of my memory they call it-”

“Intrusive memory right?” Don interjected.

I snapped my head up to look at him “you know about it?”

The man nodded “yeah it was in your medical records. Social worker warned me about it. I am your legal guardian if you recall”

“Oh” I murmured realizing I probably should have realized he knew about this sooner “so why didn’t you say anything about it?”

“Well, I figured you’d talk to me about it when you were ready or at least not until you had an attack or something” Don explained awkwardly.

A small smile came to my face “thanks”

“Hey you’re my kid. As new as I am to this parent thing I can stand to get a couple things right” he told me.

I laughed lightly “okay”

“Okay” Don nodded “now let's get out of here it’s late” he pulled me into a small side hug arm around my shoulder as we headed toward the car and I couldn’t help but keep smiling.

________________

“Yo!” Don called coming in through the back door.

“We’re in here.” Alan called in reply.

A moment later Don came in with a box setting it on the dining room table “Hey, All right, FBI accountants went over all of Nevelson’s financials, and these are all the documents that relate to the foundation. Our people could find nothing.”

“So why didn’t you have Charlie look at the records in the first place?” Alan inquired as I continued to eat quietly. Saving my ‘I could help’ pleas for later.

“The FBI has a team of excellent forensic accountants.” Charlie objected.

“I know.” the elderly man clarified “but it wouldn’t be the first time you find something that they missed.”

“You know, a lot of mathematicians do have eidetic numerical memory” Charlie explained “similar to Abby’s ability to remember everything she encounters visually only specifically geared toward numbers that are repeated and in patterns”

“So my memories better” I commented with a smirk.

“Your visual memory yes” Charlie gave me a look as he got up and began looking through the papers.

“So I could be able to help,” I pointed out.

“Yes you-” Charlie cut off looking back at his brother “but you probably shouldn’t”

“Yeah and I’m saying you’re not going to,” Don declared as Charlie took the box and headed into the foyer.

I groaned rolling my eyes “you know once I turn eighteen I’m going to get my clearance and then you won’t be able to stop me”

“Yeah well right now you’re going to help me with dishes while he works on that” Don decided collecting plates “come on” he chided and I gathered my plate and cup as well as Alan’s.

“No here I got it uh…” Grandpa objected and glanced at my dad’s back who was walking into the kitchen as he stood up. “I want to talk to Don for a second alright?”

“Alright but if I happen to stay out here and see Charlie’s stuff for the case..” I trailed with a pointed look.

“Fine I’ll cover for you. Deal?” He replied.

“Best grandpa ever” I smiled and he hummed with an amused smile on his face as I turned and headed after my uncle.

_______________

3rd POV.

Don looked over his shoulder as he entered the kitchen and was surprised to see his father following him rather than his daughter. “What happened to Abby?”

“She had homework I made her go work on it” Alan replied “you know she’s stubborn about that stuff puts it off” Don let off a humming noise his instincts of suspicion kicking in “mainly cuz I wanted to ask you about something.”

“What?” Don gave his father a look as he put the dishes in the sink. This made more sense.

“You’re best date ever was with your partner?” Alan inquired and immediately Don realized why Alan had pestered Abby away before asking.

“Dad, please”

“No, it’s just a simple observation.” Alan defended as they put away the food. “I mean if it was so great why did you split up?”

“It was an academy thing” Don explained “we got posted to different places. We had our careers to concentrate on.”

“So now you’re in the same city, same careers”

“Same office” Don cut his father off “which, in our case, can be a dangerous thing.”

“Your mother and I met at work.” Alan posed.

“In the lunch line.” Don pointed out “Look, Dad, Terry and I have to see each other every day. You know? We have to look out for each other.”

“So that means any trust issues are already behind you.” the father suggested. “Plus Abby seems to like her”

“Look, just because you’re eager to start dating again-”

“Eager? Are you kidding me?” Alan cut his son off exasperatedly “you saw me last night. I know, I know, I know I got to get back into it. Your mother said I should meet new people after she was gone.”

“Well, that’s right. That sounds like her” Don agreed.

“I know she made me promise.” Alan sighed “I mean, she knew that, without a push, that I might not do it. So she pushed” Don nodded considering his father’s words. “And remember Donnie you’ve got more to think about than just yourself now”

Don sighed “yeah I know” he looked out the kitchen door toward the space in the house his daughter was somewhere.

“Being a parent is never easy and it’s twice as hard to be a single parent doing the work for two” Alan voiced. Don let out a breath and the two men were silent for a moment. “Just consider this your push”

A moment later Abby popped her head into the kitchen. “Me and Charlie found something in the records.” she announced.

“You and Charlie?” Don questioned giving her a stern look. “What happened to homework?” The teen grimaced slightly and shot a look to her Grandfather who held his hands up in surrender. Don sighed “show me what you found”

Abby led him out to the table in the foyer where Charlie had the records spread out under a light. “You’re never going to believe this,” Abby murmured.

“Believe what?” Don asked, confused.

“Fake people” Abby stated as if that were clearer.

Don looked to his brother “Now, here is a list of workers employed in building the foundation”

“And?” Don questioned.

“And a lot of them don’t exist.” Charlie stated “yeah. There’s a preponderance of fours and sevens in the union ID numbers, which could be due to accounting codes, except they show up in the overtime hours like, 14s and 17s everywhere here, here, and here” Charlie showed Don the various documentation. “These numbers, they can’t be explained by random occurrence. Somebody made them up. They’ve been fabricated by someone who likes these numbers who left behind a pretty obvious pattern.”

“Fake people” Abby reiterated.

“Well obvious to you” Don grumbled looking the paper over.

“People like us” Abby clarified “honestly your forensic accountants should have picked up on it”

“Here’s a very interesting thing also.” Charlie hurried over to the other side of the table as Don shot his daughter a warning look at her disrespectful tone. “All the, ah, all the workers we’ve identified as fake are listed as welders. Except there aren’t any other welders on the payroll backup.”

“Well you can’t build a foundation without welders” Alan piped in from the tv room “sounds like Nevelson was using a shadow crew.”

“So how would that work, Dad?” Don asked as Alan walked over.

“Non-union laborers, usually illegal aliens. They pay them under the table.” the former city planner explained “see, the contractors would use them at night to avoid the unions.”

“So what? Like lower pay, no overtime, medical benefits?” Don questioned.

“That’s right,” Alan nodded heading back to the kitchen.

“But people still get hurt,” Don voiced thoughtfully. “And there’ll be hospital records”

________________

Abby POV.

“So I am getting right back on that horse” Alan declared as the four of us sat at a restaurant eating. “Not that this lady is anything like a horse.” he added “she’s really quite attractive.”

“So it’s not a blind date?” Don clarified.

“No, it’s the butcher that sold me the duck.” Alan explained.

“No” Don chuckled.

“Yes” Alan insisted “yeah, she’s very nice and she really knows her waterfowl.”

“Right” Don scoffed.

“Good luck Gramps” I encouraged.

“Why thank you Abby” Alan smiled then turned to his younger son “Charlie. Charlie” When the mathematician was only somewhat responsive the elderly man turned back to me and Don “this is not the brilliant thought brood. This is the other brood.” he informed.

“You alright Charlie?” Don asked.

“You knew it was a suicide.” Charlie stated

“No look,” Don objected, shaking his head. “I said from the get-go I didn’t know, but I did suspect.”

“Despite all the variables and the inconclusive autopsy, and the layers of crime that were uncovered?” Charlie pressed.

“The fact that the kid exhibited suicidal behavior and then he did it.” Don explained. “It’s Occam's Razor, you know? I mean, the simplest answer is usually the right one.”

“Occam’s Razor?” Alan questioned.

“What?” Don gave us looks as we all began to chuckle slightly “I read a book every now and then. I mean I did help in the creation of the biggest book worm I know.” he ruffled my hair slightly.

“Occam was a philosopher, he wasn’t a mathematician” Charlie pointed out “and what he actually said was that you shouldn’t make more assumptions than needed. It’s the basis of methodological reductionism. So, any given data set,...”

“And I thought school was done for today” I muttered as Charlie began to scribble on a napkin. Don and Alan just scoffed and let the man go. He needed to talk right now.

Chapter 5 ->

#Don Eppes #Charlie Eppes #Alan Eppes #Terry Lake #David Sinclair #Larry Fleinhardt #Numb3rs #numb3rs season 1 #Abby Calvin #PTSD #episode per chapter #episode related #also posted on ao3 #also posted on quotev #anxiety attacks #math #amita ramanujan

3 notes · View notes

darkanachronism · 4 years

Text

Keziah Mason Meets the Whateley’s

"Who 're yew an' what're yew doin' in my lab?" Wilbur demanded, looking down at the old woman.

"Depends," she started, "on why you smell like Yuggoth."

~~~~~

What’s this, me posting writing on main? More likely then you think. Anyways have the Lovecraft crossover no one asked for.

Wilbur had been preparing the shed for some time now. He didn't have to yet, but he would eventually with Twin getting as big as it was.

For now though, he just wanted a bit of space. A little respite from his mother, from his brother. From the Byhakee it had upstairs.

Just a quiet place to read, to write, to study.

Admittedly it was a rather sad little makeshift lab, but it was his nonetheless. The chairs and tables fit him, he barely had to stoop to get in the door, yes this was as comfortable as he could hope to get.

Wilbur was just about to enter with another armful of books when he heard a crash from inside.

The crash, and accompanying string of curse words belonged to an old woman stumbling out of a corner, tripping over a pile of books and face planting onto the floor.

Keziah Mason has taken a wrong turn on her trip back to Arkham. Something she immediately decided not to tell anyone about, in a rush or not this was an amateur mistake.

She rolled onto her back and cussed again. Being fairly certain she'd heard some bone or other make a noise it shouldn't. And took in her surroundings, digging in the pockets of her robe for something to throw at whoever owned the place.

The door creaked open and Keziah was staring down the barrel of a revolver.

Fuck.

"Who 're yew an' what're yew doin' in my lab?" Wilbur demanded, looking down at the old woman. She looked harmless.

So did lots of things.

Keziah blinked in surprise, trying to take in all of the massive figure that loomed above her, to place the unearthly stink that came off him, and come up with an answer to his questions all at once.

"Depends," she started, "on why you smell like Yuggoth."

She managed two out of three, and to stall for time on the third. The gun lowered just a little, Wilbur's brows furrowing in surprise. Not the answer he’d been expecting. Or for that matter one he’d accept.

"I’ll answer yew once yew answer me seein’ as I asked first an' I've got the gun."

No point in distracting himself.

"Both valid points. I'm Keziah Mason, and I took a wrong turn. Now you."

Cryptic and sort of a non answer, but in certain circles her name preceded her, and in others bothering to explain that you were not just a common burglar but an fiendishly intelligent witch who could use her knowledge of advanced physics and arcane secrets to travel long distances via interdimensional shortcuts, well that sort of talk was just as likely to earn you a bullet as keeping quiet. Even if the man towering above her could barely pass for human himself.

" 's just how I smell is all." He answered her first question. "And I'm Wilbur Whateley." She hadn’t asked for a name, but it seemed polite to give one.

Whateley, of course, everything clicked into place.

“Yog-Sothoth’s kid then?” She asked quirking a wiry brow. She’d expected more...Tentacles? Maybe a tail or something. Still, something around the eyes put her in mind of the fathomless space beyond spaces.

The revolver dropped to Wilbur's side as he tried to puzzle through how to respond to being called out so casually. He nodded. Not sure what else to do.

"Help an old lady up would you?"

Wilbur did, hauling Keziah rather artlessly to her feet, still baffled into silence.

"How'd yew know that?"

Keziah shrugged. “Your family’s been at this for a while. Honestly I’m surprised things lined up."

"Yeah, guess et were a bit 've wurk on granpa's part." Wilbur trailed off mumbling, scratching the back of his neck and looking around for something else to discuss. The topic of his conception was awkward, he imagined that was one of the few things he had in common with any other teenager.

"Sorry, didn't catch that. Tinnitus." Keziah said, adding the explanation with a grimace. It was a small price to pay for visiting The Court of course, but a deuced nuisance most of the time.

"Uhh, Nuthin'." Wilbur said, before changing the topic abruptly.

"Yew still didn’t explain why yer here."

"Told you I took a wrong turn.” She was trying to sound casual, but perhaps came off as a tiny bit defensive. “Just a tiny miscalculation on my part. We are in New England aren’t we?"

"Dunnich."

Keziah pulled a face and Wilbur laughed.

"Take et yew've visited before?"

"Not if I can help it. Is it still as painfully backwoods as it was in...1786?"

Wilbur quirked a brow, sure, she looked old, but not that old.

"Nah, et's wurse."

"You poor thing." Keziah patted him on the arm, it was about all she could reach.

The condescension wasn't appreciated, nor was the physical contact, Wilbur pulled away from that, but since she evidently loathed Dunwich, he let it slide.

"Where were yew tryin' t' get then?"

"Arkham."

"That ain’t far,” Wilbur started helpfully. “Yew culd take our horse, Long as yew return et."

It’s not that he was a particularly generous man, he had no natural inclination to help a stranger out. But it wasn’t as if he was planning to ride anywhere any time soon.

Keziah chuckled.

"Thanks for the offer, but I can get there faster." Keziah glanced around the makeshift magical laboratory, looking for something.

"Do you have some graph paper I could borrow?" She asked after a moment.

"Uh, yeah I c-" Wilbur was cut off by a tentative knock on the half opened door.

"Wilbur, dinner's rea-," Lavnia called out, opening the door as she did so. Ordinarily she wouldn't but in like that, Wilbur had been so insistent on his privacy lately. But he’d left it ajar, so she didn’t see any harm.

She paused mid step to stare. In what world did Wilbur have company? And how had she missed the woman showing up in the first place.

"Who's yer friend?" .

Wilbur looked between the two and stepped out of the way to make introductions.

"Uh, hi Ma, this is-"

"Keziah Mason. One of Nyarlathotep's Thousand Favoured." she said, brushing past Wilbur and offering the other woman a hand to shake. No need to be cagey about who she was now.

Lavinia very quickly wiped her hands on her skirts before accepting, clearly flustered by the title drop.

"I'm Lavinia Whateley, pleased t' meet yew."

Wilbur wasn't half so impressed, actually he had to wonder what she did to earn the Crawling Chaos' attention. Or if she wasn't just full of shit like so many magicians turned out to be.

"I'm sure it's mutual. Don't let you keep you from Dinner though, I was just about to leave."

"Yew dun half tew, ef yew dun want. I mean, yew culd stay fer diner ef yew'd lak. We dun often have guests, 'specially 'un so destingished."

Wilbur winced at his mother's gushing and hand wringing. She was special enough in her own right that she shouldn't be tripping over herself to impress some witch who couldn’t even keep her angles right.

Admittedly Wilbur’s understanding of interdimensional travel and the mathematics involved in them were shaky at best. But he could make an educated guess as to what a wrong turn meant.

Keziah considered the invitation, taking a quick look at each of the Whateley’s to guess at how much of an intrusion she’d be before answering.

“Why not, I don’t really need to be back until Sunday.” She gave a casual shrug.

Lavinia positively beamed when the older woman accepted her invitation. A reaction that made Keziah question the other woman’s sanity just a bit.

“Well, house es this way ef yew tew want t’ follow me. Sorry ‘bout the house bein’ in a state, et’s ain’t usually this much ‘ve a mess.” Lavinia gestured for the other two to do just that, before backing out of the door way.

Wilbur let Keziah go out ahead of him and locked up behind the trio.

Dinner at the Whateley house was usually an awkward affair, consisting of strained attempts at small talk from Lavinia and increasingly successful attempts to avoid that small talk on Wilbur’s part. So a third party was appreciated, and it really didn’t take much to set Keziah off.

An idle question about how exactly she knew the Whateley’s from Lavinia prompted wild stories about Wilbur’s great great grandparents, questions about Yuggoth from Wilbur earned an even more energetic response. All the while Keziah displayed the kind of table manners that startled even Wilbur.

It was increasingly difficult to imagine the hunched old woman tearing into a drumstick with clawed hands and trying to explain the Dho Formula through a mouthful of chicken rubbing elbows with The Outer Gods, acting as a messenger for Nyarlathotep himself.

But she did know things. Gods did she know things. His grandpa has known some and read some, and Wilbur had done his best with that meager tutelage and a plethora of crumbling books. But Keziah, she rattled off facts and incantations and corrections to his magical theory like other people talked about the weather.

The conversation was beyond Lavinia’s grasp, she nodded when she thought it was appropriate. And was quickly forgotten by the other two. She didn’t mind though. It was a rare treat to see Wilbur so animated.

Dinner ended with everyone in a good mood, Lavinia offered to clear up and let the other two retreat to Wilbur’s lab, Keziah still had to work out exactly where she’d gone wrong in her calculations earlier, and Wilbur was eager for a crash course traveling the space between spaces.

“Don’t worry kid, I’ll work slow so you can keep up.”

The teasing earned her a sour look. Even as Wilbur bent over the desk to see what she was working on.

“I’m sure I’ll manage just fine, I’m sharper ‘en most folks.”

“So am I.”

If Keziah made things a little unnecessarily complicated just to show off who could blame her. Wilbur was a nice enough kid. But she couldn’t let him think he was smart just because his dad knew absolutely everything there was to know.

Still, she helped. More than slaving over his books alone could. And after some untold hours. Keziah stood up, stretching and cracking her back and knuckles as she did.

“I think that’s enough for the night. I’ve got to get back to Arkham, and I really hate to travel when I’m tired.”

Wilbur looked down at her with a frown.

“S’pose ef yew’ve got tew. Like ma said, yew can come back whenever yew like. Jus’ use a door next time.”

Keziah let out a low scoff and rolled her eyes. “Absolutely not kid, doors are for people with no imagination.”

She traced a quick sign in the air, lines lingering that glowed a shade no human eyes could really appreciate, and without another word Keziah stepped through the corner of Wilbur’s laboratory and was presumably back in Arkham. The space she just occupied tilting strangely before folding in and righting itself.

Wilbur stared and wished he’d had his better eyes out to watch that. Probably would have been quite impressive to see in five dimensions.

#Wilbur Whateley #Lavinia Whateley #The Dunwich Horror #Keziah Mason #Dreams In The Witch House #my writing #I don't know how much of my writing I'll post #but I may as well right

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badwolfwrites-sometimes · 4 years

Text

Drawn Together: Chapter 21

"You know, I was really looking forward to eating some homemade German cooking." Feliciano said. They were currently sitting in a small restaurant not far away from the house. Although Feliciano invited his grandpa to join, he stayed at the house to work through some papers, leaving Ludwig and Feliciano to enjoy stuffing themselves with food alone. "Like you making me something."

Ludwig looked at Feliciano from behind the menu he held. "I am not a good cook. That was always Gilbert's job. I only bake."

"Speaking of, where does Gilbert work? He never showed me."

"Here."

Feliciano blinked in confusion. "Here as in right here? As in this restaurant?"

"Yes. He is this restaurant's chef."

"That's amazing!"

"He is good at his job, but I am not sure if he likes it or not."

"What do you mean?"

"He gets into fights with other cooks easily."

"Oh... But it's nothing bad, right?"

"Nothing physical at least." Ludwig wanted to say more, but they were interrupted by the waiter. Feliciano stared at Ludwig, puzzled as he tried to make sense of what Ludwig was saying. He really should polish his German.

"I ordered us a Gilbert's special." Ludwig read right through Feliciano.

"I'm that obvious?" Feliciano asked, shocked but laughing.

"In a way."

They talked some more until their food arrived, a large piece of meat covered in gravy with side potatoes and sausages. Feliciano looked at Ludwig, unsure of what to name this dish. "What is this, Ludwig?"

"We call this The Gilbert's Special. It is actually Rinderroulade-," he pointed with his fork at the meat-,"with mashed potatoes and Knockwurst. It isn't a single dish, but more of a combination of dishes."

"It looks too delicious." Feliciano said before cutting up a large piece from the meat and stuffing himself with it. Ludwig watched him with amusement. "Wait, is this beef?"

"It is. Do you not like it?" Ludwig asked, cutting up his own piece.

"I love it. I haven't had proper beef like this in years."

"What do you mean by proper?"

"Not straight out of a package." Feliciano was struggling to speak and eat at the same time, devouring the meat in a matter of seconds, like it was going to grow legs and run away from his plate. "We used to eat proper meat back in Tuscany."

"Tuscany? Aren't you from Venice?" Ludwig asked, puzzled.

"I am, but my grandparents from my dad's side are from Florence. I haven't been there since Romeo was small."

"I see." Ludwig answered, continuing to eat his meal.

Feliciano and Ludwig shared a few small words here and there as they ate, mostly preferring to stay in each other's silence. They were, of course, unaware of Gilbert who was sneaking glances at them from the kitchen and giggling.

"I'm so full... Ludwig, can we cancel everything for today?" Feliciano asked when he was finished, sprawled on the chair like a shirt worn once.

"Only if you plan on exercising double the usual amount tomorrow." Ludwig answered, faint smirk visible on his face.

Feliciano's eyes widened before he stood up, too sudden for his brain as he had to sit down immediately from the dizziness. Ludwig offered him a glass of water. "I was joking, are you alright?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah. I am. This happens sometimes." Feliciano laughed awkwardly, massaging the back and sides of his head until the pain passed. When it did, he stood up again, slowly this time. "Should we split the bill?"

"No, I will pay."

"Oh absolutely not. I won't have you paying for my meal as well. No!"

"Feliciano, you are a guest at my house. I can pay our food."

"Over my dead body will you be the only one paying!"

As they argued, they failed to notice Gilbert approaching them, trying his hardest not to laugh at the exchange. Only when he coughed to get their attention did they notice him. "Children, it's all on me and already paid. Now get out." He said before walking back to the kitchen, allowing neither of them to protest.

"So it isn't okay if I offer to pay, but if Gilbert does, it is alright?" Ludwig asked as they walked out.

"Well, he didn't let me argue with him. I'll pay him back when we get home." Feliciano answered.

"I doubt he will accept it."

"I'll make him accept it. I can be very convincing when I want to be."

"I would like to see you try."

Feliciano suddenly got serious as he stared Ludwig right in his blue eyes. He noted Ludwig's eyes looked the best when it was cloudy outside, bringing the bright blue sky in the dark moments.

Normally, Ludwig would start to grow anxious about being stared at so hard by someone. But this wasn't just 'someone', this is Feliciano. He didn't know why but the way Feliciano's irises would soften and expand when he looked at him, eased Ludwig's mind. He could look at Feliciano all day.

"I'm gay." Feliciano finally spoke, dead serious look on his face.

Ludwig blinked in confusion. That came out of nowhere. "What?" He asked.

"I'm gay." Feliciano repeated himself.

It didn't shock Ludwig any less, but... "That was a bit sudden, but I respect you. Thank you for telling me." He managed out. Ludwig really did respect Feliciano, even if his assumption of Feliciano's sexuality was incorrect. As long as they are friends, Ludwig could care less who Feliciano loved.

That's what he was telling himself at least, but deep down, he did care. They were already separated enough by their countries, Ludwig didn't need another person waltzing into Feliciano's life and stealing him away. Even if he knew Feliciano would make time for him when time itself was scarce.

Feliciano smirked at him, turning his head away so Ludwig could be left longing for his calming eyes. "See, you believed me?" He said.

What?

"I don't understand." Ludwig raised his hand as if he was asking the teacher to explain something.

"I told you I'm very convincing. I'm not actually gay, Ludwig."

Ludwig was once again left confused. What just happened?

"Well, I don't have anything against gay people and I don't think dating men would be too bad. Maybe it would in Italy, but my brother is more of an expert on that field. I don't think it matters what's between your legs or what you identify as, as long as you love each other-" Feliciano rambled on, Ludwig half listening, half tuning out.

"So you said you were gay just to prove your point to me? Is that correct?" Ludwig asked.

Feliciano stopped his rambling, nodding. "Yeah."

Ludwig sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Feliciano, I am not all too familiar with LGBT+ issues and jokes, but that was a bad one. Coming out to someone and then saying you were kidding is making fun of their struggles."

Feliciano paused, his brain remembering what happened during that dinner a couple of months ago with their grandpa. In his attempts to prove something to Ludwig, he hurt his own brother, without either of them even knowing it. "Oh." Was all he could manage.

They walked to the park in silence, Feliciano still thinking about what Ludwig said. When they sat in front of a pond to watch ducks, he finally spoke. "Thank you."

"Hm?" Ludwig questioned.

"If you hadn't told me it was bad, I would have probably continued to use that as a joke. You aren't exactly taught this in Italy, where being gay is an insult on its own."

"I can't speak for them, I just know that coming out is very important to them. For that reason, I believe, we should all respect it."

"I never understood it really well. I would just read Tumblr posts about it, but the ones I found were always vague for me."

"From what I know, it is having a secret you can barely tell yourself and sharing it with your family or the world."

"Like being sad when you're smiling and everyone thinks you're happy and you should be happy, but you aren't?"

"That sounds... close." Now Ludwig was worried about Feliciano.

"I've been there." Now Ludwig was very worried about Feliciano.

"Are you alright?" Ludwig asked.

Feliciano smiled. "Yeah. I learned something new today. Learning new things makes me happy."

Ludwig sighed in relief, turning his eyes back to the ducks in front of them.

"And being here, in Germany, with you. It makes me so happy, I could fly."

Ludwig smiled. It made sense for Feliciano to say something like that.

The two of them sat in front of the pond for what felt like hours, talking and commenting ducks. Feliciano occasionally mentioned pigeons to get a laugh out of Ludwig, who never forgot how his drunk brother screamed he was a pigeon for days after the conversation with Feliciano. When they were ready to go home, Feliciano felt something soft rub at the side of his leg. Turning around, he noticed a black cat nuzzling up to him. It was dark, but Feliciano could still see those beautiful, piercing blue eyes staring at him. He let his hand move on its own as he pet the cat, who moved its head into Feliciano's hand. It was a perfect fit and Feliciano was instantly in love.

But it was time to go, so he couldn't pet it longer. And it broke Feliciano's heart really bad. He bid the cat farewell and left with Ludwig. But the cat had other plans, following both of them home. Feliciano wasn't the only one who was in love.

"Ludwig, look at it!" Feliciano squeeled when they arrived home and the cat was right behind them.

"It seems to really like you, Feliciano." Ludwig smiled.

"Ah, I wish I could keep you." Feliciano pet the cat once again, motioning for Ludwig to join in. It didn't seem to like Ludwig as much as Feliciano, but it gladly accepted pets.

"If my dogs get along with it, maybe it could stay here. It looks like a mouser cat, we could use one here."

"There's a lot of mice?"

"They sometimes run around and my dogs are scared of them. Gilbert wanted to suggest we get a snake, but they are scared of them too."

"I'm scared of snakes too, I completely understand." Feliciano shivered at the thought. "Can you go get the doggies so we can see if they like it?"

"You are that intent on keeping this cat? Alright, I will be back soon." Ludwig said, standing up and unlocking the door to the house. Immediately, three dogs raced out of the house and almost tackled Ludwig down. He gave each of them their hello kisses and some dog treats he keeps in his pocket, just in case there is a cute dog outside.

Feliciano picked the cat up, it was really obedient as long as Feliciano kept petting it, and walked to the mess of fur and Ludwig. "Hello!" He greeted the dogs, who went to licking his free hand as a greeting. "We brought a friend with us. Please get along well, pretty please."

The dogs sniffed around the cat as Feliciano placed it down. Neither the cat nor the dogs seemed to mind each other that much, to dogs, it was a new playmate and to the cat, it was a new family. Feliciano was overjoyed and, seeing him like that, Ludwig was too.

"All of you need a bath, though." Feliciano commented as he went to pet Aster, before Berlitz protested and jumped into Feliciano's lap for hugs and pets.

To Ludwig's surprise, the cat, it was actually deep gray and male, was much easier to wash than his dogs. Even Feliciano, who was washing Berlitz and Blackie, seemed surprised by that. His cats would rather die than be touched by water and shampoo, this one was very calm and serious. It reminded Feliciano of Ludwig. "Germouser." He said.

"Hm?" Ludwig asked, rinsing the cat out.

"You said he was a mouser cat. And seeing he's from Germany, his name will be Germouser." Feliciano explained. "Do you like it?" He asked the cat.

The cat meowed at him and Feliciano all but melted right then and there.

By the time Gilbert arrived home from work, the six of them were cuddling on the couch, watching some movies on the TV. Berlitz and Germouser were glued to Feliciano while Ludwig took Blackie and Aster to himself. Gilbert was about to protest having a cat in the house, but the look of happiness on Feliciano's face silenced him. "Just don't let it eat Gilbird." Was all he said before going to his room and passing out.

"Berlitz doesn't usually like new people." Ludwig said at one point.

"Really? He's very cuddly with me." Feliciano asked, petting the sleeping dog's head.

"Yes, he is very shy. Before he came to us, he was in an abusive household and it took him 5 months to warm up to us. And he was still a puppy back then."

Feliciano felt his heart break at the poor dog's past, hoping that whoever abused this lovely dog got what they deserved. "You poor baby. How dare anyone do that to you?"

"Apparently, she got a life sentence in jail. Not only did she abuse animals but she also killed her ex husband for talking to the cashier lady, I believe. It was in newspaper a couple of years ago."

"I hate women like that. If you're certain he loves you, if you married him because you know he loves you, then acting jealous like that is just irrational."

"It is all in the past now, but Berlitz is still recovering. I am glad he gets along with you so well."

Feliciano smiled, his previous anger at the unknown abuser woman now gone. "This is the first time in a while. I'm not much of a dog person."

Ludwig's face fell, but not enough for Feliciano to notice. "You aren't?"

"I was in the past, but not so much since then."

"I see." It still wasn't enough to cheer Ludwig up.

"I had this dog, well, he was actually my grandma's dog and she would bring him when she came for a visit." Feliciano looked at the TV and, for the first time, Ludwig saw distance in his eyes. "I have so many good memories of him. He was a friend unlike any other, better than anyone ever was to me."

Feliciano looked back at Ludwig, but the distance never went away. It was only clouded by glossy glass. Feliciano looked ready to cry. "You kinda remind me of him. The way you follow me into my dumb ideas, even if you know they are going to fail. And you stay."

Feliciano swallowed whatever saliva he had in this mouth and turned his head away. "He was like that and we played all the time, but then... then..." At this point, Feliciano couldn't choke back the tears. He hadn't thought about his friend in years, even if he was always in his heart, and telling Ludwig about him opened up old wounds.

He felt Ludwig wrap his arm around his shoulder, bringing him closer into a hug. "I got you, Feliciano. You don't have to tell me the rest."

Feliciano cried into Ludwig's shoulder for a couple of minutes, telling him how his grandma wrote to him how his dog got eaten by a wolf, even if that was probably untrue. Ludwig said nothing the entire time, knowing how hard it is to lose such a precious friend. It probably hurt Feliciano enough for him to distance himself from dogs. Ludwig understood it all.

"What was his name?" Ludwig simply asked.

"Tsuki." Feliciano managed through tears and sobs.

"Like the Moon." Ludwig said.

"What?"

"Tsuki is a Japanese word for Moon."

Feliciano laughed. How ironic. "I don't know what species he was but he was white and had large black dots on his body. There was one that went from his ear to his eye so I guess he kind of looked like the Moon."

"He sounds adorable, I wish I could see him."

"I have a framed picture at home with us. For my 4th birthday, my grandma brought him and me and Lovi dressed him up in Romeo's clothes. He looked so cute and funny." It seemed like Feliciano stopped crying.

"You have to show it to me when you get home."

"I will. I'll show you all of the pictures with us, but I have to warn you, I was a really cute kid. So don't go falling in love with me because that would be illegal."

Ludwig laughed and Feliciano joined in, waking up the dogs who moved to their beds and the sofa to sleep, taking their new friend along as well. "We should go to bed as well. Tomorrow, I won't be back until 8 p.m." Ludwig said.

"Oh." Feliciano's face fell. "Right, you have work."

"Yes, but we can have fun after that. Just promise me you won't skip your training tomorrow."

"I'll sleep the day off until your return, Captain." Feliciano saluted to Ludwig, with his left hand.

"I will let Gilbert know then." Ludwig said. "And you salute with your right." Feliciano quickly corrected himself.

"Can I at least sleep with you tonight?"

Ludwig was about to decline, knowing he probably won't get enough sleep for the day ahead of him if Feliciano 'slept' next to him, but seeing how Feliciano just finished crying, he couldn't refuse. Feliciano probably needed it too. "Alright."

"Yes!" Feliciano leaned in to kiss Ludwig's cheek, a thing Ludwig would have to get used to. "Thank you! Let's go then."

They turned off all the lights and the TV and, unlike the previous nights when he would sneak in to sleep with Ludwig, Feliciano didn't go to the guest room at all. Instead, he made himself comfortable next to Ludwig, even if it was a single bed and not his double sized one. "Ludwig?" He called.

Of course Ludwig would get less sleep that night. "Hm?"

"I'm really glad I met you." Feliciano said, smiling before he turned around so his back faced Ludwig.

Ludwig felt his cheeks warm up, still not believing that the two of them actually met and are lying in bed together like this. He wrapped his arm around Feliciano's waist to properly tuck him in. Nights in Germany were cold and Feliciano probably isn't used to that. That's what he told himself to justify his action. Turning around so their backs faced each other, Ludwig whispered. "Me too, Feliciano." And just like that, the two of them drifted into the world of dreams.

#GerIta #Germany x Italy #APH Germany #hetalia GerIta #gerita fanfic #aph gerita #hws germany #APH Italy #APH #hws #hetalia #hetalia axis powers #hetalia world stars #drawn together story

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polkahotness · 4 years

Text

SHORTAKI WEEK DAY 2

FFN // AO3

Flinch

I'd never seen anybody go so hard on Arnold. And that's coming from someone who has literally bullied him since the dawn of time.

It all started when we decided to take the bus out of town to visit this record store that Arnold was dying to visit. It was new and located a couple of towns over—'The Record Skip.' It was a dumb name in my opinion and considering the size of the town it was located in, I didn't exactly anticipate business to be booming enough that it would stay open for much longer.

Thus, initiated our fun little trip.

Arnold was determined to get this one particular jazz album that he'd been hunting for online and at every thrift shop, music store, anywhere that you could possibly imagine. Personally, I thought it seemed like a lot of unnecessary work for a giant disc that was way larger than it needed to be when there are CDs or, dare I say it, streaming services that could play you the same music without lugging around ten pounds worth of equipment to do so.

But to Arnold, the records were just his… thing. Rhonda would call it an 'aesthetic' but in reality, he was just a big jazz nerd who liked the way that a record, "made the sounds of each instrument pop." He claimed that when listening to an old record on his fancy phonograph or whatever you call it, was like "being in the room of a jazz concert. You can feel the energy even if it was recorded years, decades ago."

Naturally, I laughed in his face, but I respect his love for the way the music feels and sounds. I remember when we first started dating our sophomore year, we would spend hours in his room with the lights down low as he played various vinyls while explaining the greats to me and the reasons why jazz music was his happy place.

Sometimes I think it's because it helps him stay close to his grandparents who, unfortunately, aren't around any longer to influence his eclectic tastes. Both Stella and Miles seem to understand why this mission of finding some specific LP was important, but me, his 17-year-old girlfriend who much preferred the music app on her phone, well I just couldn't quite wrap my head around the significance.

"So, how did you find this shop anyway?" I asked him as we jostled on the bus down the road towards the town I'd never heard of. "This city is like… the smallest dot on a map I've ever heard of."

"It isn't that small of a town, Helga," Arnold insisted before offering a small shrug of his shoulders. "I stopped here once one the way back from visiting Arnie a few years ago," he explained, and I rolled my eyes at the mention of his zany cousin.

"Right. Arnie. Talk about someone living in po-dunk nowhere," I commented, though Arnold didn't seem to react.

His attention was focused outside the glass of the window as he watched our bus slowly travel its way into the town Arnold was eager to visit. Once the sign for the town passed us by, I could feel Arnold's grip of my hand tighten slightly and I couldn't help but smile at the involuntary action.

He was excited.

That made me excited.

Even if it was just for some dumb record.

When the bus lurched forward at its stop, both Arnold and I stood up as he began rushing off down the aisle. He could hardly contain his excitement for the possibility of finding whatever long-awaited album he'd been searching for.

Me?

I was just interested in seeing what this album was in the first place.

Up until now, he had refused to tell me—said it was stupid and that I would laugh at him. While he wasn't exactly wrong because the chances of me laughing were pretty high, it didn't mean that I didn't care. I wanted him to be happy even if it was because of something that I found weird and dumb. My opinion didn't matter. This was his thing and as the loving, perfect, gorgeous, and incredibly supportive girlfriend that I had had the honor of being for nearly two years now, I was prepared to follow that footballhead into the depths of hell if it meant he'd wear that dopey grin of his for even one minute.

'The Record Skip' wasn't too far down the road from where our bus had stopped, and Arnold practically skipped his way down the sidewalk towards the small building with a giant record hanging above the door that read the name of the shop. It didn't seem all that busy and my suspicions were correct when we entered the store to find a lone cashier who looked bored to tears and a single customer perusing the endless rows of albums.

As my eyes scanned the bins filled to the brim with records of all varieties and in no particular order, I watched Arnold begin to sort through them feverishly. Wanting to help, I stood beside him and looked over his shoulder while quietly saying, "You know Hair Boy, if you told me what you were looking for, I might be able to help you find it."

"No thanks," Arnold replied automatically as a frown grew on my face. "If it's here, I want to be the one to find it. If that makes any sense."

Pulling away from peeking over his shoulder, I chuckled to myself with a lone shake of my head. "It doesn't, you know," I told him with amusement. "Make any sense, that is. I mean, look around!" I exclaimed while gesturing at the small store we had found ourselves in. "There must be hundreds of records in here and without my help, we could be here until closing time. And from the looks of 'Moody McGee' over there—" I pointed to the cashier tapping away on her phone without a care in the world, "—I just don't think they'd be all that stoked at such a proposition."

My words gave Arnold food for thought as he paused in his sifting through the records to consider my observation. He knew that I had a point and after a moment of silent contemplation, Arnold breathed a heavy sigh of defeat. "Fine," he said softly before twisting minimally to look over in my direction with a stern expression painted on his features. "But if I tell you, you have to promise not to laugh, okay?"

Once again rolling my eyes at his inane paranoia, I agreed to his terms and conditions. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, fine, Arnoldo. Now what is it that we're looking for, huh?"

Arnold took a heavy breath as if to prepare himself for some big dark secret he'd been harboring. The dramatics of his lead-up to the important and somehow embarrassing tidbit threw me off once it was finally off his chest. "It's this Dino Spumoni record. It's… It's really, really rare because it was a live recording from one of his shows when he was still singing with Martin and Lewis in the Lounge."

I stared at him with my mouth ajar as though in shock, which I quickly wiped off and swapped the expression for a skeptical glare instead. "That's it? That's the big mysterious record you've been hunting for? Dino Spumoni?" I soon rolled my eyes while letting out a scoff. "Cripes, Arnold! Didn't your grandparents own basically every single one of his stinkin' albums? I'll bet it's up in some closet somewhere in a box, all dusty and—"

"Well, it's not, Helga," he interrupted me, and my mouth instinctively zipped itself shut at the sudden ferocity in Arnold's tone. When his wave of agitation passed, he soon apologized and explained. "I'm sorry, it's just…" He opened his mouth to let words pass through his lips, though only air escaped. As he scrunched his brows inward, he seemingly tried to conjure just what it was he had hoped to already have said and been done with.

"It's just…what, Arnold?" I pushed gently and Arnold sighed before turning back towards the rows of records he began sifting through once again.

Quietly, he resumed speaking. "When Grandma died… Grandpa didn't take it too well." He glanced over his shoulder at me before returning his attention to the records he thumbed through, while muttering, "You remember that."

"Sure," I answered while walking away from him to walk around the end of the row and to the side directly opposite of Arnold. My hope was that from where I stood across the way, I could secretly peek over at him while pretending to look through records. "That was freshman year, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was," Arnold confirmed while holding an album up and turning it around to scan over the song listings before replacing it back to the slot he'd found it in. "Grandpa died our sophomore year."

"I remember," which I had—very vividly, in fact. It had been a really tough beginning of high school for the poor kid, and as much as I hated to admit it, their deaths were a large part of what brought the two of us even closer together. I hadn't been able to help myself from checking in on him and stopping by randomly to see how he was doing. Soon I was staying for dinner and helping move belongings and sorting through boxes.

It wasn't long after that Arnold and I began officially dating.

I always imagined how his Grandpa would have teased us; his grandma continuing to call me 'Eleanor' and maybe giving Arnold a new title of his own as an upgrade of sorts. It never had felt the same since they'd passed, but so was the nature of life—and Phil and Gertie had lived a couple of pretty amazing ones.

"Right when we first started sorting through things," Arnold continued on; effectively dragging me out of my thoughts and back to the conversation we were currently having. "I found this old Dino Spumoni record—one that I hadn't seen or listened to before. It was shoved all the way in the corner of my grandparent's closet, and we were all baffled as to why it had been hiding back there."

"So, naturally, we pulled it out and I began looking over the cover—memorizing it to the smallest wrinkle and shallowest scratch," he laughed at this as though ashamed of openly telling another person about what he'd done. "And one day, as I was pulling out the record to play it, it sort of… got caught on something? I yanked at it to try and wiggle it out of the slot, but when it got free, it slipped from my fingers and—"

"It shattered, didn't it?" I answered for him as he nodded slowly.

"Smashed," Arnold uttered with a shake of his head and a humorless smirk. "Just like the name of his song."

"And that's why we're on this hunt? To replace the record that you accidently broke?" I shrugged my shoulders while moving to the next column of miscellaneous albums. "I mean, I get it. It was your grandparents, but by replacing it, you're just honoring some other random person's copy, you know?"

"That's true," he agreed, though his tone suggested otherwise. "It isn't all about the record itself, though. After it fell and broken and I had been angry for a significant amount of time, I picked up the slipcover of the album and looked over it like I had before—memorizing every indentation and faded color that made the cover art. But this time, I ventured to look inside the slot to where the record used to lie."

A long pause followed as Arnold probably waited for me to beg for more. I was happy to oblige because I really was curious now. "And?" I pressed him.

Arnold shifted over to his next column of records and flipped with ease while glancing at each album that he passed. "There was a note shoved in the back corner. That's what the record had gotten stuck on. And since it hadn't been touched in who knows how long…" his voice trailed off as though verbally giving me a blank to fill in for him.

"It's no wonder you hadn't found it before," I finalized as he went on to tell me more about the note without my prompting.

"The note was a letter. It was dated from the 50s and it was addressed to my Grandma… from Grandpa… after their very first date."

My mind tried to imagine Gertie as a young woman and Phil as some young man; the two of them no different than Arnold and myself, but for a few years. I shook off the vision I couldn't make and said, "Well, are you going to tell me what it said, or what?"

Ignoring my sarcasm, Arnold recalled the letter as though he had recited it countless times before. "Gertie—I had a swell time with you at the lounge, tonight. Here's a cut from that performance, courtesy of Dino himself. Maybe on our next date I'll take you to meet him, as long as you don't go running off with him. He'd better not touch my gal." The both of us laughed as he ended the letter and offered a shrug. "Then he just signed it, 'yours, Phil.'"

"Your grandparents really were something," I noted while sorting through my pile; Arnold moving from the row he was in to the next one over and started going through more albums. Just beside him, the only other customer in the entire store also carefully inspected record after record—also a man on a mission.

It was clear that finding this record wasn't because he missed the music or wanted it for some kind of collection he had. Arnold was looking for this record because it was made from the very night in which his grandparents had shared their very first date. Unlike some of the zany stories told by both Phil and Gertie respectively about such a date, that letter had given Arnold tangible proof of their love story.

Finding that record meant completing the album Arnold had probably stashed away beside his bed so he could look at it the way he used to look at that old picture of his parents. Not like I knew that or anything. I didn't watch him from the skylight sometimes when it was really dark out because there was a new moon and he was distracted which meant I could hide in the shadows of the rooftop above him.

But that was beside the point.

I had to find that album. I wanted to give that back to Arnold—return to my beloved that which was lost with two of the most important people in his life. My sweet, poor, footballheaded darling. How I longed to take away the pain clouding his heart. How I desired to wave a magic wand and turn back time so he could reunite with his grandparents once again. If only I could find that album. If only I could be the hero and bring to him the one thing that would set off the familiar glimmer I longed to see from beneath his emerald green eyes.

If only… If only… If only …If—

"Hey! Give that back!"

Arnold's voice echoed through the shop, and I blinked myself back to reality to look over in the direction of where my familiar footballhead was glaring up at the other customer who was the size of a linebacker. In their hand was an album—one that I could see from where I stood had that of Dino Spumoni's face on it.

It was the album.

"No way, little dude," the stranger insisted while holding the album away from Arnold's desperate grasping. "Do you know how much this puppy is worth?"

"But I had it first," he expressed, his tone growing more distressed with each word and fling of his arm toward what the man held away from him. "You took it out of my hand."

"Yeah, so that I couldhave it," the man's voice was smug; arrogant. This dude thought he could just get away with taking something because he could.

As nice as Arnold was and as harsh as he could be when pushed, he didn't seem to phase the giant stranger who towered over him. "Please," Arnold began to plead, "You don't know what this album means to me…"

"And you don't know what it's gonna mean to my wallet," the man countered.

That was all that I needed to butt my way in to their dispute and place myself directly between this douche-nugget and Arnold. This imbecile thought that he was going to walk away with this album after swiping it out of Arnold's hands because he was some 'big, strong, tough guy?' He was clearly looking for a sweet, sweet kiss from my fists.

"Hey. Iron Giant," I addressed him while shooting a confident glare up in his direction. "How about you leave my friend alone here and I'll let you mosey on home without your eyes so swollen shut that you end up running into every single trash can, pole, and sign that you encounter?" My long-winded threat didn't strike fear in the man's eyes, though I could tell he was surprised at my sudden involvement.

With a somewhat awkward chuckle, the man shifted his gaze between Arnold and me. "Are you really threatening me? Over some stupid record?"

"Are you really so stupid that you think I won't punch your lights out faster than you can say 'I'm sorry for being a literal ass?'" I retorted as I tightened my fists at my side in preparation for my next move.

Arnold wasn't having it though.

"Helga, stop," He demanded in a harsher tone than I'd anticipated. The sudden change in his demeanor threw me off guard, and I stepped aside to look at him as he moved to the forefront to stare up at our selfish stranger.

"Listen," Arnold began firmly without so much as a stutter or waver in his voice. "I found that album first. Fair and square. It was in my hand and you will give it back to me."

This amused the man and he took a lone step in to further intimidate and loom over Arnold and me. In a low growl, he said, "Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it… kid?"

My eyes shot over to Arnold who didn't even flinch at the words the man spat in his face. With an intensity I hadn't seen in Arnold in a long time, he narrowed his eyes and matched the stranger's tone to say in return, "What will we do?" He repeated before turning to look at me and silently tell me the next step in his plan. Fully understanding what it was I had to do, Arnold faced the stranger again and simply stated, "We're going to take it back."

With that, as the stranger was distracted and utterly confused, I reached out to snatch the album from his grubby hands. "C'mon, Shortman!" I hollered as Arnold and I turned around to begin running away from the angry man we left behind.

"Hey! Get back here!" he demanded, but we didn't listen. The man may have been dumb, but he certainly wasn't dumb enough to follow after the two of us and cause a scene. Not only did this cashier not care, but we were just teenagers. Surely the dude didn't want to get into a huge fight with a couple of kids.

After we paid for the record and it was safely in a bag that Arnold carried with pride at his side, we slowly walked down the sidewalk in pursuit of the bus stop. Evening was approaching and the sun had just begun to slowly sink into the horizon; the sky morphing into bright hues of oranges and pinks that swirled together like paint on a canvas. Once we made it to the bus stop, we took a seat on the bench to wait while Arnold pulled out the album and gave it a look-over.

"I can't believe we found it," He mused while staring at the cover with a smile.

"Technically you found it," I corrected him before smirking and leaning back into the bench we sat on. "And what I can't believe is you, Hair Boy."

Arnold carefully placed the album back in the plastic bag before turning to look at me with a raised brow. "What can't you believe?"

"That guy was huge, Arnold," the words came out in shock as though the memory of him was even bigger than he had been in reality. "I'm surprised you had the guts to stand up to him like that. You didn't even flinch."

"You were the one threatening to start a fight, Helga, not him. Why would I flinch?" he soon countered, and I shrugged my shoulders.

"He seemed pretty antagonistic to me. He could have socked you right there, but you just…. Stood there." I said with a smirk. "But me? That's not really how I work, you know that. I was ready to pick a fight. And If he ended up giving me two black eyes, he would have at least gotten one and it would have been worth it, too. You were walking away with that album if it was the last thing I did, today."

"At least it didn't come to that," Arnold said while reaching out to lace his hand with mine and offered a light squeeze. "I think our plan worked just fine."

"You're telling me. For once you and your giant head were the brains of the operation," I offered, and Arnold shook his head in amusement.

"It can't always be you, you know," he soon replied with a twinkle in his eye; the hint of a tease with a half-smile that I could hardly resist. "I can be clever and witty too."

"You have your grandparents to thank for that," I told him earnestly; the glimmer in his gaze dulling as he soaked in what I was saying. "I think that Gertie and Phil would be proud of you for holding your ground and getting that album back. I'll bet it was something they would have done."

"Grandpa definitely would have," Arnold agreed with a nod and a smile at the thought. I could tell that he was thinking of either a memory or trying to imagine him doing such a thing. He was lost in the thought for a moment before letting out a chuckle and adding, "Grandma would have gone a much, much more dramatic route, though."

"You're probably right about that, footballhead."

Together we sat, hand in hand, on the bench as we waited for the bus to arrive. With each new conversation and laugh that we shared, I relished the future the two of us would surely have. If today had proven anything, it was that Arnold and I worked best in tandem with each other; just like another couple we knew.

And when we reached Sunset Arms again and headed up for Arnold's room, the first thing he did was put on that record; the music filling the air to transport us back to that legendary couple's very first date. Like them, Arnold and I would have many a story to tell our grandchildren one day, and maybe someday, they too would go on a mission to find some missing relic of our love and fight to get it.

My only hope was that, like Arnold, they too wouldn't flinch at the opportunity.

#shortakiweek #shortaki week #shortaki #heyarnold #hey arnold #day 2 #flinch #writing prompts #fanfiction #fanfic

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manggojooz · 5 years

Text

Take My Hands Now (Part 1)

pairing: Jungkook x reader

word count: 2,760

genre: drama, angst

summary: You were born with a condition that allowed you to feel the pain someone else was going through when you touched them. Jungkook, on the other hand, looked like he could not be any less bothered with other people’s feelings and was a well known playboy of the school. One night, at a party, while he attempted to turn you into his toy for the night, he grabbed your hand and pain crashed through you, making you wonder whether behind the facade of this pleasure seeker, he could also be hiding something.

warnings: references to being bullied

comments: loosely based on an article I read recently about a disease called mirror touch synesthesia, where one can feel the pain of another person by looking at them. have not proofread...

��OK class, hold your partner’s hand and follow closely”, you heard the teacher call out as you strutted through a dark museum behind your classmates.

“Y/N, what's the matter? Why aren’t you holding her hand? I told you, you need to hold your partner’s hand and walk together, I don’t want to lose any of you.”

“Ms Kim, Y/N doesn’t like to hold other people’s hands”, another student said in a mocking voice. Tattletale... The darkness starts to inch in on you, you were sure it was daylight before you entered the museum. You could feel the snide remarks and demeaning stares surround you.

“Maybe she has sweaty hands.”

“She thinks she’s too good to be holding our hands.”

“Such a weird dweeb.”

And suddenly you jolt awake. The nightmare was exceptionally realistic, because it bore the memories of your childhood days.

---

When you were just five years old, you saw your mother crying one day on the couch and all you wanted to do was to comfort her. So, you walked over and held her hand and in an instant, you felt a sharp pain pierce through you, making you let out a shriek and collapse in tears.

Other kids would enjoy walking around holding their grandparents’ or parents’ hands, but you had no idea why they liked it. “How is something like this enjoyable?”, you used to wonder. Each time you held someone’s hand, it was like a gamble.

You learnt to shun it, to avoid it and naturally you hated those times when the education system required you to physically come in contact with anybody. One time it got so bad your elementary classmate, April, thought you disliked her when you refused to hold her hand when forming a circle for class activity that she started bawling and claiming you hated her.

As you grew up, your parents began noticing your behaviour and one day, after your teacher told your mum about the ‘April incident’, she sat you down at home. “Y/N, did April upset you? Why did you not want to hold her hand?”, she asked while she faced the kitchen counter chopping up some vegetables.

“I don’t like to hold hands”, you said almost matter-of-factly, because you never understood why it seemed so easy for other people to do that.

“Why not darling? When you hold someone’s hands it creates a bond between them and you and it allows you to make friends. Don’t you want to make lots of friends at school?”

“Is that what it was? A bond between people?”, maybe that is what you feel every time.

A few years passed and you tried your best to improve your social interactive skills as you progressed through elementary school. Somehow you never managed to go about this physical contact thing with as much ease as everyone else. Maybe you were a weird dweeb.

It was a hot afternoon, and it was the dreaded physical education period, Mina was practicing her standing broad jump and you had to be standing right opposite her. She must have overexerted herself and lost her balance, as she came hurling towards you when she landed. She was right about to fall on you with both hands outstretched grabbing at nothing for support when you instinctively flinched and backed away from the contact, leaving her to fall forward onto the jumping mat. Immediate regret was an understatement and Mina looked like she had sprained her ankle in the process so the teacher asked you to take her to the infirmary. You held out a hand to help her up and there it was again, the piercing feeling tearing right through you which lasted all the way to the infirmary until you let her plop down on the bed there.

That night you were sulking in your room thinking back to all the nasty remarks you heard from your other classmates about you letting Mina fall on her face and hurting her. Why does it seem like nobody else has the same dilemma you had? That was when your grandfather quietly entered the semi-lit room, “what’s the matter, my dear?”

You said “nothing” at first, but you could never hide from grandpa.

“My classmates all hate me.”

“Now we know that can’t be true, who could bear to hate such a precious baby? You tell me what they did to you now and grandpa will send tiny monsters under their bed tonight.”

“Grandpa, they’re all a little too old to still believe in monsters under the bed. They think I am weird because I don’t like to hold their hands or hug them. They seem to do it so easily, I don‘t understand, grandpa. Am I really weird?”

Suddenly a frown appeared on your grandfather’s face, it was ever so subtle but you were sure it was not just the wrinkles over his forehead.

“My dear, tell me, why do you not like to hold someone’s hands or hug them?”

“I just don’t like it. It is scary, I don’t know when it will hurt me”, you mumbled through your words because you wondered if it was a stupid reason.

“Oh gosh.”

---

From then on, you learnt that you were indeed strange, although they tried to say it was more on the spectrum of ‘special’ – you could feel someone else's pain, quite literally. While you may not feel the same type of pain, as in a sprained ankle for a sprained ankle, you would nonetheless feel some form of pain coursing through your own body. It came from all forms of physical contact, but the most intense reaction comes from holding someone’s hand; you will feel the same intensity of any pain that person is going through when you held their hands.

---

Somehow you made it through the public education system all the way to university. While university is supposed to be the time of your life, or so they say, you just wanted a low-key life, the less interaction the better, for obvious reasons. And that’s why you kept mostly to yourself, exceptions being Mirae and Namjoon, who were your best friends. They were also the only ones whom you have ever shared your “condition” with outside of your family.

Mirae’s birthday was coming up and you had asked her a gazillion times what she wanted, and she finally revealed that she wanted to attend a party, with Namjoon and you. You hated parties, also for obvious reasons and Namjoon was very studious, pretty much a weird dweeb too, so neither of you had any intention to accompany her to a party, ever. But it was her birthday and that was all she wanted.

That explains how Namjoon and you were both being dragged by an excited Mirae towards a mansion that was vibrating from the booming music coming from within. Honestly, you had no idea whose house it was, all you recalled from the conversation where you reluctantly agreed to come, was that this was some schoolmate’s party and you were just here on “birthday wish fulfilling duty”. Your plan was to stick to Namjoon and Mirae, have a few celebratory drinks and try to enjoy yourself as much as you could.

Once the three of you pass through the wooden door frame, there were just people everywhere. You were on high alert, trying to prevent yourself from coming into contact with anyone as much as possible. Mirae and Namjoon were flanking you front and back and you felt some security being wedged between them.

Eventually the three of you settled down in a corner of the huge living room after a drink or two and having another one in hand. Mirae did not come to the party to sit around and sip on badly mixed cocktails. She wanted to get onto the dance floor, the heart of where the party was.

“Guys, let’s go dance!”, said Mirae

“You know I can’t dance”, Namjoon said with an exasperation in his booming voice

“It doesn’t matter, there’s so many people out there nobody’s gonna care if you can pull out any moves Namjoon, just get on the dance floor with me! Y/N, let’s go, I know what you are worried about but seriously, everyone’s just having fun there, even if you touched anyone it’ll be fine, they won’t be in pain”, Mirae was straining to get her words through to the two of you over the loud EDM music that was blasting through the roof.

“You know, if it wasn’t your birthday, I would have walked out by now but fine, I'll do it for you since I am a great friend”, said Namjoon dryly.

You, on the other hand, was feeling a tad dizzy from the alcohol running through you, a feeling you are yet unaccustomed to, and said you had preferred to just sit here for a while and will try to join them later.

It must have been around five minutes of watching the two of them executing weird movements in the centre of the badly lit living room. You wanted to get out for some fresh air, so you got up and immediately stumbled almost falling back down onto the chair. That was when a voice came from beside you.

“Be careful there, don’t want our new face hurting herself at her first party.”

You did not recognise the voice, but when you looked around, you immediately recognised its owner. Jungkook – idol of the faculty. Correction... idol of the entire school. At least half the girls in school want to date him, but he doesn’t do dates. What does he do then you may ask? He was famous, or in your view infamous, for being a playboy with no actual interest in relationships. You once saw a girl crying her guts out next to him in front of the school library and he just stalked off, leaving her there sitting on the sidewalk.

“Uh excuse me?”, you replied, harsh but meek.

“Hoseok’s party, I have been to all of them, have not seen you before. So why is our new face sitting in a corner by herself acting all tipsy? Doesn’t seem like you would come to a party by yourself.”

“I’m not tipsy, I just stumbled. And my friends are over there, so yeah, you will be taking up their seats, in case that was what you were wondering.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, “Seems like our new face does not really want my company. But your friends are all the way over there, having a good time, and you are all the way here...”, he gestured towards your friends who were embarrassingly shimmying on the dance floor.

“I don’t dance, and stop calling me ‘new face’, that’s rather rude you know?”

He sat down next to you, body leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs which were donning some skinny black ripped jeans, as his face came closer towards your own, he said almost challengingly, “Oh I’m sorry, where were my manners? What's the name of our new face then? I hope it’s not some generic unmemorable name like Rachel. My name’s Jungkook by the way.”

He spoke like a predator playing with his prey. Kind of reminded you of how a cat would whack its prey repeatedly, just because. While any other girl at the party may beg to be his prey, you were not any other girl.

“No, my name’s not Rachel. And your introduction was not required, I know very well who you are. Now, if you will excuse me...”, you were quite sure that going to the dance floor to be squeezed by tonnes of sweaty people, hiding in the toilet for the rest of the night or even leaving your friends without a word would all be better choices than remaining in this situation.

As you stood up to leave you felt his hand grab your wrist, “That’s not very nice …" and his voice faded off. You felt an immense jolt of pain shoot through your body, it was not the usual piercingly sharp pain. It was dull, pulsating through your chest and caused a blur in all your senses. Everything around you was thumping and swiveling. And the pain suddenly stopped, but the remnants of the intense feelings lingered, and you felt tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. You could only wonder whether this amplified reaction was due to the alcoholic content in your blood.

“Hey, wow, OK, I know I’m famous for making girls cry but this is the first time someone’s pulled this on me before we even did anything.”, he said pointedly to you, as you come to realise you are now crouched on the ground in front of Jungkook.

“Oh gosh, had to pick one tonight that would cause a scene. Should have just gone with the second Rachel just now.”, you heard him mumble under his breath to himself as he turned away to look around, perhaps searching for said Rachel.

You wiped away the tears and looked up at him, “Are you OK?”, that’s all you managed to say in a shaky voice.

Jungkook paused, and turned his head slowly to look at you, eyes a little wider than before and with more darkness in them than before, even though you didn’t know that was possible.

“What did you just say?”

“I said ‘are you ok’, because when you grabbed my hand...”, you hesitated.

“Let me get this straight. You are the one currently sitting on the floor, crying, when I did literally nothing, yet, and you are asking whether I am ok?”

“This isn’t what you think it is. But I think it’s fairly obvious that I am not ok...”, you replied, “... it’s you I am not so sure about.”

He didn’t break eye contact with you for what could have been minutes, or was it just seconds, who knows, before he said sarcastically, “I think I would be ok if you would just get up so that people would stop staring at us”.

Seems like the people around the two of you had caught on that something less than ideal for a party scene must be going on, and what’s more attention attracting for drunken people than something that looks remotely like it will lead to some drama.

Jungkook extended his hand to help you up. You looked at it doubtfully, once bitten twice shy indeed. You weren’t going to take any chances so you held onto the chair instead and got yourself up. Jungkook wasn’t exceptionally surprised at this, he’s met the likes of you before, girls who think that he is just a playboy, that he is trash. And let’s not forget the girls who act like they are not interested in him at first glance to try to pique his interest.

“Well since our new face has no interest in this company, I will be moving on. That said, you know, you still didn’t tell me what your name is”, Jungkook said smugly as you stood up.

“And you didn’t tell me if you are really feeling ok.”

He turned wide-eyed again, wondering what is with this persistence about questioning his well-being.

“I guess that makes us even then”, Jungkook scoffed.

As you watch him leave and blend into the crowded room in search of his next ‘prey’ of the night, you couldn’t help but wonder, what caused that kind of reaction in you just now. You were sure it only happened because he grabbed your hand, so it must have been him. He looks absolutely fine though? Just look at how smug he was. Was it just the drinks? Maybe he was sick or injured somewhere? But the feelings were unlike anything you have experienced before.

You were snapped out of your thoughtful daze when Mirae and Namjoon came crashing back onto the chairs next to you from how exhausted they were from all the physical exertion of bad dancing. “Let’s call it a night shall we, I am not feeling too well”, you said. They looked over at you worriedly and you reassured them that you were fine, just tired.

As you were walking out, squeezing past the hoard of drunken bodies, you saw that at the end of the room where there were huge ceiling-to-floor glass windows exhibiting the pool behind them. And there he was, Jungkook, making out with some girl on lounger beside the pool. “Some questions, we just don’t need the answers to...”

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xathia-89 · 4 years

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Playing in the Alpha’s World - Pt 4

Hideyoshi was fuming when we arrived at the mansion. I knew he was madder at himself because I had been able to slip out to the bar when he was meant to have been the one marking me of all people. Nobunaga was too busy getting Kiyo up to speed on the role I imagine. Still, I knew he would be watching on the security cameras when he could. Kenshin was being eyed up by the other alpha as I went to pack enough clothes and toiletries to last me, I paused, looking at the sheets. My bed wasn't quite as big as Kenshin's, but then again I had to ensure I could always get the sheets that would deal with slick. The theory was now that I wasn't alone, my slick wouldn't coat the sheets since Kenshin would always be able to smell it before it happened.

“Why such a big box?" I jumped to hear his voice and resumed packing my chargers.

“It was an attempt to soothe my heat. But you seemed to do that perfectly last night," I shrugged, coming back out with one of my medium-sized suitcases.

I knew there was going to be a lecture as Hideyoshi knocked on the door before letting himself in. I was prepared for it before I took a seat on the sofa, already resigned to my fate.

"I wasn't aware that there was a lack of common courtesy for the only woman in this mansion," Kenshin's comment was deadly and cool, and caught Hideyoshi and me off guard. "I believe the correct way of requesting permission to enter someone's room is to knock and wait for them to give you the okay."

I'd never seen Hideyoshi look so offended and embarrassed. Mostly because what Kenshin had said was true, but it had never been given any thought. I also did have to wonder if this was also an alpha getting a little protective over his new omega mate since Kiyo had never told any of them off regarding the entrance without verbal acknowledgement. I then also had the alpha stand-off in the living room before I put my hand on Kenshin’s arm.

"Hideyoshi is just worried. But he has my number, and the address of your apartment, he's also mad at himself because he was meant to look after me. Still, his omega went into heat, so that sort of became his priority," I explained, squeezing Kenshin's arm before linking my arm through his.

“You could have been seriously hurt,” Hideyoshi stated, his mama face on, standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yes, I could have. I accept that, but I was desperate to get away from Mitsunari who is in heat because it could easily have triggered a mini-heat, or even worse a full-blown one. My scent is also given off regardless, so I do attract a lot of alpha attention, I'm usually flanked by several alphas anyway, so it's not always something I think of. I was very lucky last night that Kenshin was on his way to the bar, and that he caught onto my scent along with the group that had every intention of ravaging me there and then," I patiently explained. "Right now, I am marked and scented by Kenshin. So it is a lot safer for me to walk around because I don't need to worry about being jumped by a random group of alphas."

I could see the message sinking into both of them. For me, this was the safest I had been in years. I didn’t need to keep spraying myself in various perfumes to disguise myself, nature would do the work for me.

Hideyoshi sighed in defeat. “I just worry.”

“You have Mitsunari, the man is enough to worry about the second he finds a book because the world just disappears when he does that,” I shrugged. “We’re going, have stuff to do now I’ve got a month off from Nobunaga’s office.”

***

I was more than a little glad to be leaving the mansion, rubbing my forehead as we pulled back into the parking lot for his apartment building. Until we walked back in with my suitcase and found all three of his room-mates waiting for us in the living room.

“Well, might as well have the second awkward conversation of the day. But can I at least put my suitcase in his room and get a cup of coffee please, or are manners not really a thing any more?" I snidely snipped at the three men, surprising them all as Shingen's face dropped from his frown, Sasuke rushed off to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and Yukimura was making space for us to sit together on the two-seater sofa.

Kenshin waited for me to put my stuff in his room, loitering in the mouth of the room before an arm was around my shoulders as I was escorted to the sofa. Sasuke had come back with several cups of fresh coffee, a small jug of milk and sugar and an embarrassed expression as Shingen was looking at us. It felt like he was trying to catch me out so he could parade around that I wasn’t any different than my bosses to him.

Then the pheromones hit.

I was wrapped in Kenshin’s arms instantly, carried off again to his room with my face buried into the crook of his neck. My body was on fire as Kenshin slammed the door behind us before he threw me onto the bed.

I had to wait in Kenshin’s room, listening to the raised voices between Shingen and Kenshin before Sasuke stepped in. It would risk a repeat showing if I stepped back out into the living room with three unpaired Alphas. If I had still been living on my own in the box apartment, we would have happily holed ourselves up in there. The way that Kenshin had told me to avoid getting dressed told me that it wasn’t up for discussion, I was under the sheets and fiddling around on my phone to try and distract myself until he was back. I could hear Shingen reminding Kenshin who I worked for until it was disclosed that I was on forced leave for a month because Nobunaga had decided that me going into heat made me redundant at my job if I was going to be out of commission for one week out of four for a few months. The silence was awful, while I heard someone throwing cupboards out and slamming them shut again. I could only assume Kenshin was getting drinks for us so we wouldn't need to leave the room before the door was opened again.

My assumptions had proven correct, a tray in front of him with a good selection of sandwiches, pre-made sushi, a jar of pickled plums and some sweet buns as well as water and sake. He also promptly locked the door behind him and shrugged the kimono off that he had donned to cover everything before putting the tray on the bed.

“Tough crowd,” I commented, tilting my head at him.

His kiss was possessive, craving affection as his tongue thoroughly mapped out my mouth. His body framed mine, a thin sheet the only separation between us. It was still hard for me to get the image of him as we had grown up on the same street as kids. Our parents were friends, and it wasn't uncommon for us to be staying over at the other's house until we were teenagers. It was a babysitting service that was done in favours, something useful for parents rather than to arrange and pay a babysitter that wouldn't let us get away with sugar murder. He had always been slight as a child, yet here he was all muscles and able to punch his way out of any situation. His parents had moved out to Joetsu just before we started Junior High, a new job for his father from what I had understood. Still, he had come back here for university. His touch was feather-soft, unsure if I was real or not.

“This is going to be weird," I said, as Kenshin dropped his weight on the other side of the tray.

“It’s been a while,” he admitted, before picking up some sushi and tapping my lips with the food. “But you need to eat.”

We'd both tried to resume normality. He had shifts at the bar, but it was like trying to separate superglue. It just didn't happen, so I was propped up at the end of the bar, my nose in a book as Kenshin bustled around serving customers. I had apparently scared a few regulars with a mere glare when a pretty, blonde girl had dared to lay a hand onto Kenshin's forearm after passing her a fancy and sugar-filled cocktail. Though she had flinched when Kenshin had then snarled at her for being so bold. Interesting wasn't even the term I would use as I flopped my head against the wooden bar top, much to the amusement of one of Kenshin's bartenders. A young man called Kagekatsu, also his nephew, who was studying at the nearby university and bartended for drinking money, though he always kept his hands to himself and knew when to leave me be.

“Wait until you either go through a heat or a rut,” I grumbled, finally lifting my head before being handed a sparkling water.

“Oh, I'm sure you two will be the first to offer me sympathies, after listing every time I tormented you both," he smiled brightly. "When I speak to my parents, they're really happy to know he's not alone any more. Isehime was beautiful and wonderful for him, but it's been nearly ten years, and when I mentioned your name, I thought they were going to break my phone," he laughed. "They were ecstatic. They mentioned that they thought it would have happened from the start if Grandma and Grandpa hadn't moved from here. They're only giving you space because it's a new relationship and Kenshin's like a mega alpha."

“You do know there’s no such thing as a mega alpha,” I replied, raising my eyebrow at the title.

“Yeah, but it fits," he shrugged. "But everyone is really happy for you both, and you don't need to worry about the family approval a lot of omegas get stigma for. They know you aren't the type to just spread your legs, given all the stories I was told about you bossing him around as a child to get him to do what you wanted."

“At least I don’t need to worry about Kenshin listening to my embarrassing childhood stories, because he was involved in most of them,” I smiled slyly, sipping at my water.

I did have to wonder about working, it was looking very likely that I would not be returning to my role, which tinged my new found happiness with Kenshin. I tapped my lips with a straw, trying to work out a possible solution. I wasn't usually one for bar work, so working with Kenshin on his shift wasn't going to work.

Then Shingen and Sasuke came into the bar and headed straight for me.

Kagekatsu smiled at me and then went to swap ends of the bar with his uncle, who was glaring at the two men for thinking of coming close to me.

“A cognac, please,” Shingen sat the respectful one bar seat apart from me, though it wasn’t unnoticed that I was the intended focus.

A beer was sat next to the cognac before Kenshin was trying to see about setting them both on fire through his glare alone.

"We have a proposition for Kayda, regarding her work," Shingen calmly explained, swilling the cognac around in his tumbler. "She is sorely missed by Nobunaga, her replacement for the month is good, but not her. The only way that you could potentially stand to let her go to work is either to have a constant video stream of her or to go with her. Neither of which will allow her to do her work. So, she gets transferred to work in my division of the company, she works as the secretary to myself, Yuki and Sasuke. Still, she stays located at the apartment for the most part. Seeing as most of our business is done through emails and remote visits anyway. So we merely give her a work laptop and phone, and there may be days where she is needed in the office or out and about to meet some big clients. For the most part, though, she will be with you, in the apartment. So Kayda doesn't waste away with boredom because you've said yourself that she isn't the type for customer service."

I looked at Kenshin, it was thoroughly thought out I had to admit, but would his nature allow it?

“I’m not becoming a housewife, ever. It wouldn’t make me happy,” I stated bluntly.

“Okay, but I want the rest of the month with you as agreed,” Kenshin relented to my stare.

“Never thought omegas could be so bossy,” Shingen chuckled, sipping at his drink.

I shrugged. "If I wasn't, and openly admitted to being omega, then my life as a housewife and baby maker would have been decided for me, and that would never make me happy. So I took control and decided that it was my choice to decide what I would be doing, I learned how to fake being an alpha, it was easier and in line with my personality than to try and impersonate a beta," I took a sip from my glass. "And I think you will find that just because someone is omega, then it doesn't mean they're all submissive in personality. Everyone is an individual, so nature just determines that you can go into heat or a rut may be, and you maybe have different needs to some others. It doesn't determine that you're not bossy or you're all meek and pleasant to everyone or the ideal housewife. Some alphas probably want to be housewives and house-husbands, and I think it's just a case of making sure you're happy."

Kenshin’s smile was the surprising part of my little rant.

“You really haven’t changed,” he admired, kissing me on the head.

#ikesen #ikemen sengoku #Ikémen Sengoku #kenshin uesugi #modern au #heat #omega #beta #alpha

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hobiwonder · 5 years

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~billionaire boys club~

rich!bts x maid!reader