#i call him a cupcake ffs i did not know he could be this mad at anything

[jensons-buttons]

I did not know George had so much rage in him but my god.

#f1 #i call him a cupcake ffs i did not know he could be this mad at anything #but that was something #im just glad they're both okay #angry and upset obviously and want to just smack each other but they're okay . #george Russell

[bemystarsandroses]

Tough bad boy love

So, this was on Wattpad but since that platform is mostly on luck and whatnot, I think I will post more on here. So, these characters are mine and so is the story. It's... Kinda cliche, but who doesn't love the whole "bad boy loves dorky boy" trope? It's so. Effing. Cute. And I don't think it's used enough in writing. Especially since I have my own lil twist on here. Anyway! If you see any errors or something, please tell me! Also, if you see this on any other place except Wattpad, please tell me! Thanks!!!

Warnings: death mention, death by car crash, greif, new town, new people, arithmomania, rebellious teens, slight bullying it may be considered bullying but yikes this dude is rude,fam fluff, brotherly fluff

Ships: ;) you'll know later

Extra: Kaden is an Oc who, true to his character, has a nickname. This means that in this story, and probably only this story his name is not Kaden. I got too excited when I first made this and made his name Kaden. Didn't even remember the whole nickname thing. So if you find any errors at all, tell me and please let me know!

Arithmomania. The act of counting things as a form of OCD.

We just moved in at 4156 at New Banks Road. Fourth house on the left, it's the blue one with a red roof. Three blocks away from South New Haven High. In the middle of New Haven, in the middle of California, in the middle of no where. This town can almost be called 'off the map.' It felt so remote to me. Then again, I was used to large cities, and this was a small town. Everyone knew everyone. So of course, after we finished unpacking, three people came to our house with baked goods. Cupcakes, cookies, and the other one was an actual cake. My mom looked at me while she put them on the kitchen counter.

"Well if everyone is this nice, then Eric, this place will be perfect for you!" Her smile seemed to make every dark corner of the room brighten. She was my light in the dark when everything was gone to crap. I loved her the most out of everyone in my life, and I would do anything for her. I smiled back, nodding as i spoke to her in my own deep voice. I'm 16, puberty sucks, that's about it.

"Yea, hopefully." I hummed out, I felt my face set into a soft smile as I bit into a chocolate chip cookie. I stared at it for just a moment, counting the chocolate chips in it. As I could see, there was thirteen. I would probably find more as I ate, so I took a bite.

As I chewed, the flavor burst into my mouth and I stood there in awe. "Wow! These are amazing!" I cheered, devouring the cookie quickly. My older brother, Thomas, laughed at me.

"Hey, did you enjoy the cookie?" He mused as he got into a cabinet for a cup. I nodded furiously, my black hair swishing along. After I had my little headbanging session, I smoothed back my hair, which was straight, straighter than me. My brother and I shared our mother's hair color, but according to mom, our father had the curliest hair known to man. That's what my brother got. It was shaved on one side, and on the other he kept most of his hair. It was pretty cool, and his hair got him a lot of girlfriend's who just loved to run their hands through it. I've never really had a date, but since it's a new school year, I hope that would change.

"Eric, have you unpacked your room yet? Decorated or anything?" I shook my head as an answer. She tsk'ed, using her index finger to point at where my estimated room was. "Then go unpack, do something. Maybe it can get your mind off of moving?" Her smooth words strikes me, and I head out of the kitchen with a cookie still in my mouth.

I walk up two steps that lead from our kitchen to out living room, then turn right onto the stairs. I walk up 30 stairs, walk five feet, then turn right once again. I was met with a brown oak door, a golden handle that I put my hand on and turned the knob. I was met with white walls, a dark blue carpet, and a brown door that lead to the closet. I had a dresser near the window which was in the middle of the room, wall opposite of the door. While my bed was to the left of me. Boxes which had my radio, books, and laptop ( and other things). Though I went to my bed, with blue covers and a green pillow, I laid down on my back. I have to be careful, so I don't hit my head on the black nightstand. I stared at the ceiling, which had a fan with... "1....2....3....4...5....6!"

Six blades on it and one lightbulb. I loved counting this house, it made me feel like I was doing something worth while in this town. I may have picked the habit up from my old friends, who loved math. I sighed, remembering my old school and why I was here. That day, one month ago, ruined my life. One of my closest friends, who also did the counting habit, died. She was very sweet and kind, always putting herself before others, but she's gone because of one mistake, of one party night, of one friend who was a little too drunk. I sighed, thinking of her. She was just like me, born with this ocd type, arithmomania. For her, everything had a number. Plants had low numbers, animals around thirty or so, and humans had above fifty. With that, she would add up things with those numbers. The numbers were her trick, and it never made sense to me.I always just counted the basics of things, how many people there were, along with who in the room had brown hair or something. It used to hurt me in elementary and middle school, but being a junior now, and having the last two years with a friend who was just like me helped a lot. Now she's gone. Now, I am all alone...

I sigh once again, now getting up and leaning over my bed to stand. I walk slowly over to a box, it's beside my dresser. I open up the four flaps, and dig through the packing peanuts to find a laptop. The top cover was a dark green and blue Galaxy. It was beautiful to me, space is amazing. I stand and walk back to the bed and sat down. I open it up, and type in my password. 'imissyou' then I open up Google Chrome, and go on a website called After School. I had signed in a few days ago, when I found out the school I will be attending tomorrow. I posted something :

Erictheman

Hey, I will be your new student tomorrow. I cannot wait to meet everyone!

I watched as everyone told me hello, being nice and polite to me, welcoming me to the school and such. However, one person stood out from the rest, like he didn't belong in this chat at all.

Coffeishowisurvive

Welcome to hell, hope to see you never, nerd.

He seemed rude. I huffed, reading it over and over again. "Well I certainly hope I don't run into you at all. You sound like buckets of fun." I rolled my eyes, closing my laptop. Seems like it's time to stop for a while. I put it under my bed, I then start to unpack once more. Clothes where now scattered across the carpet, so I stood up and got out some hangers. Then opened my closet, slowly doing the process of putting the shirts, jeans, and other things into the multiple colored hangers then I hung them up. It wasn't a hard process, and I tried my best to resist counting. My mother told me it's okay to count the house, just not the actions, or I'll go mad.

I gave a small sigh, thinking about songs that we're stuck in my head. I started to hum a bit, which slowly but surely escalated to full on singing.

I was a complete nerd, but now the music was all that was in my head. I sang Bon Jovi. "Oooohh, we're halfway there. Oooohh! Living on a prayer! Take my hand we'll make it I swear. Ooohh-! Living on a prayer!" I rocked out, smiling quite a bit. My mom knocked on my bedroom door, interrupting my rock session. "Hunny, c'mon downstairs. Time for dinner! It's pizza today, since I thought it would be a good relaxing day." I nodded, putting away one more clothing and went outside my room. I closed the door behind me, and walked down the hallway, down the stairs.... And turned in to the kitchen. There, my brother was eating pepperoni pizza and sipping on a glass of soda. I think it was Pepsi? I sighed, sitting down beside him and grabbing a slice. I bit into it, until I heard a rev of a Motercycle.

I was quick to get up, wanting to know who in this small town was driving such a cool thing! rushing out the door and twisting the gold knob. I open it, to find a teenager, probably my age, on a cherry red motercycle. As the boy did a stop at a stop sign, I got a pretty good look at him, since we lived on the corner. His body was in black, with what looked like leather. On the back of it was a bright red A with a circle around it that was covering a good portion of it. The shoulders seemed to have pads on, making his shoulders look bulkier and wider, Along with jeans and a pair of dark boots. I couldn't see his face. All I saw, was his bright Blue hair poking out of the sides of the helmet. We kept eye contact for about.... 10 seconds until he rode off. I stared in awe, did this town have a ' bad boy' like in the books? But damn, did he look hot as hell in leather.

#gay #bad boy #tough bad boy #tough bad boy love #new kid #new story #from wattpad #i swear i'm original #i don't know what to say help #did anyone think of this before or what #writing #boy love #bad boy loves geeky new kid #these tags are stupid #highschool story #based in highschool california #new haven high

[seriouslyhooked]

Some Call It Magic (A CS AU) Part 13/?

When Killian Jones moves to Storybrooke he instantly senses something strange about this little town in Maine but he’s willing to overlook all the bizarre signs for one reason: the single Mum living next door to him. There’s only one problem. Killian is nearly positive she’s a witch, a brewing potions and casting spells witch. But when true love is involved, does a little thing like magical powers really matter? Story rated M.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12. Also On FF Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So I want to first start off with a genuine thank you! I got so much awesome feedback from so many of you last time and I just hope this chapter meets expectations after such a great response. As promised we are getting to the moment where Liam and Emma meet, and because I live in a fluff-filled world where there is no real angst, this is a happy meeting (even if Emma is a little nervous beforehand).  Hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading!

The thing about being in love and being really happy that Emma had come to find, was that even on the busiest days, the ones where she should have been pulling her hair out or cursing the clock for all the things that needed to be done, it was impossible not to feel like everything would work out in the end.

That was just one of the many pleasant side effects of being with Killian, and despite the non-stop pace of the last hour’s work, Emma was still feeling great from the little stolen moment they’d had before. It didn’t matter that she was now covered in batter and frosting and the bit of powdered sugar that Ruby had thrown at her earlier. Emma was a mess, truth be told, but inside she felt totally content and at peace because it was just a matter of time until she got to go home and see the man who kept her smiling again.

“Damn, Emma, you really are happy, aren’t you?” Ruby asked from across the kitchen and Emma looked up, realizing she had a full-blown grin on her face that she couldn’t seem to hide.

“Yeah I am,” she agreed, giving into the wonderful feeling that came when she embraced what her heart really wanted instead of trying to conceal everything as she had in the past. “Can you blame me though?”

“Not even a little bit. He’s your guy, Ems. There’s no denying that or how much he loves you.”

Emma cast her eyes back to the table station she was working on tidying up more to hide her ever growing smile than anything else. It was one thing to be sappy and over the top in all these good feelings, but it was another thing to be so flamboyant about it. So even if it was hopeless and everyone knew how gone over each other she and Killian were, Emma would still try and act like this was all no big deal.

“You know you never explained to me why we had to get all of this done so early,” Emma said as she got the last of the brownies from the cooling rack and into their special blue boxes that their customer had requested for their pickup. “Isn’t this order getting picked up tomorrow morning? Why the rush?”

“Oh you know…” Ruby said with an elongated pause that spoke to her stalling somehow. “Things just come up and I figured we’d like a clear and free afternoon in case there were any unexpected surprises.”

The mention of surprises immediately alerted Emma to something being afoot and now she knew in her gut that Ruby was purposefully not telling her something. The only question was what could it be. With Ruby the ‘surprise’ in question could be anything, but there wasn’t time to press for information, because the next thing Emma knew the door from the kitchen to the café was swinging open and in came her exuberant and excited ten year old.

“Hey Mom!” Henry called out with a toothy grin and Emma was happy to see him but also shocked. He wasn’t supposed to be here right now. What had happened to their usual routine?

“Henry, what are you doing here? Where’s Grace? Where’s her Dad?” Emma asked, looking behind him to see if either Jefferson or his daughter were anywhere around.

“Okay don’t be mad but I might have given them the slip…” Henry confessed, looking a tiny bit guilty, but not nearly as much as he should have.

“Oh Henry,” Emma said, shaking her head and dealing with both a sense of humor at her son’s ingenuity and worry at his propensity for running off. It wasn’t safe for him to do things like this, and as his Mom she had to want him to stop sneaking away, but he really did have a talent for getting his way, and history had taught Emma there was always a rationale behind moments like this one.

“I had good reason though because Liam’s here!” Henry said and Emma just blinked at her son trying to understand his words.

“Liam... like Liam Jones?” Emma asked and Henry grinned wider, his excitement more than evident as he moved around like a little ball of bursting positive energy.

“Yeah! I had a dream he was coming today and then he did so I told Grace and her Dad I was coming to the café with you. I even walked in earlier to make it convincing,” he explained, giving Emma all the context she could need even as it didn’t compute for her.

“You did?” Emma asked, totally surprised. “When?”

“Earlier, when you were busy.”

“When I was…” Emma’s voice trailed off because the only time she’d been ‘busy’ was when Killian was here and Emma didn’t even want to breach the possibility of Henry having seen something. The only thing she took comfort in was that Ruby whispered to her that she’d run interference and Henry hadn’t made it to the back of the shop. At least that was going in her favor.

“Busy, yeah. But now I was thinking we have to do something to celebrate. Can we make a cake or something? Maybe one that says ‘Welcome Home Liam!’ on it?”

“Well technically, kid, this isn’t Liam’s home,” Emma hedged because the man had never actually been here before and she didn’t want Henry getting his hopes up too high. That being said, the idea of making a cake wasn’t a bad one. Actually it might be the best way for her to fight this lurch of anxiety she’d been suffering from since discovering that Killian’s only living family was here in town and she was going to meet him sometime soon.

“But it will be! You gotta trust me, Mom. I know these things,” Henry stated definitively and Emma smirked at the confidence only to realize that with Henry that might not just be a hunch. He did, after all, have an impeccable track record with these intuitive guesses of his, and if he’d had a dream about Liam coming then maybe he had other reason to believe Killian’s brother would be staying close.

“Since you seem to know everything, Henry, riddle me this,” Ruby said with a hand on her hip and a smirk on her lips. “What kind of cake does the new guy like, in case we were going to make something for him.”

“Vanilla cake with vanilla frosting and rainbow sprinkles,” Henry said with total assurance and Emma’s brow furrowed. Seriously? He even knew this? How was that possible? “You know, Mom. Just like in the picture Killian has over the fireplace from when they were kids.”

Emma’s heart immediately softened at that and she understood that it was just the observant nature of her son that had absorbed that little factoid. For months Henry had taken a real interest in Killian and in his stories about Liam too, but clearly Henry was paying even more attention than Emma realized. That had to mean something, and in this case Emma believed it gave every indication that her kid was feeling as secure and agreeable to her and Killian’s relationship as possible.  She decided to take all of this in stride, and as a good sign instead of giving way to the worries that might otherwise win out if she thought too long about the impending introductions.

“Well, isn’t that interesting. You realize we know someone else with that exact same favorite flavor…” Ruby said and it only took a second for Emma to make the connection too. That was exactly the cake that Elsa always favored, and in fact, Emma had just sent over half a dozen cupcakes of that variety with Killian for her friend.

“All right. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Emma counseled as she moved across the kitchen to grab some things for the requisite cake. “I know you love your matchmaking, but a shared favorite cake flavor does not a relationship make.”

“I don’t know, Ems. If he looks anything like his brother, has a hot accent, and likes cake that might just be enough for Elsa. She’s ready for a happily ever after, and Liam Jones might just be the man for the job.”

“You gonna weigh in on this one, kid?” Emma asked half joking but half wondering if Henry knew something but her son only shook his head and made a motion as if to say his lips were sealed.

This whole conversation was just getting weirder and weirder but then Emma’s phone buzzed with a text and she looked down to see it was from Killian. She opened it quickly and smiled despite the nerves that were still fluttering around low in her gut. Even if she was worried about making a good impression on Liam, she couldn’t resist the charms of her boyfriend or deny the sincere and witty plea he made for Emma and Henry to join the two of them for dinner now that Liam was back.

“Good news, Henry. It looks like we’ve officially got the invite to meet our new potential neighbor…” Emma said as she flashed Henry a smile. “I guess we have to make that cake, huh?”

“Totally!”

With nothing left to say on the matter, Emma and Henry dove right in to crafting the edible welcome for Killian’s brother. It was an interesting dynamic too, because on the one hand Emma was feeling the stirrings of anxiety over meeting with Liam, but it was impossible to really feel badly when she was with her kid and baking. Making good food that people would enjoy was an anchor for Emma’s sanity, and as she followed the recipe and worked to rein in the extra flourishes that Henry was prone to using when he stepped into the kitchen, Emma was pretty well distracted. She didn’t have time to linger on questions of whether or not Liam would like her or how she should act when they were introduced. Instead she was too busy trying to make sure that her first impression would be as positive as it could be and that this cake would taste as sweet as her normal treats tended to.

“I know you’re probably freaking out about the whole meet the family thing…” Ruby said when the cake was finally frosted and decorated to perfection a little over an hour later and Henry was retrieving the necessary box from elsewhere in the café. “But Liam’s going to love you Emma. Unless he’s like totally mental, he’ll adore you just like everyone else does.”

Emma had to laugh at the word choice and the horrible attempt at an accent that was similar in horrendousness to when Emma herself tried to impersonate Killian. It was clear that Ruby was trying to help lighten the mood, but strangely enough Emma was handling this pretty well on her own. Was she worried? Yes. But there wasn’t even a shred of doubt in her about where she and Killian stood. Killian loved her without limits and he’d made it abundantly clear that he would always love her. It was just a given in her life now, a force for good that kept her grounded and feeling as wonderful as she did these days. So no, this wasn’t a make it or break it situation. If things went sideways, she would still have Killian in the end. Emma was just hoping that there could be friendliness between her and Killian’s brother because she knew it would mean the world to Killian and to Henry too.

“And if he doesn’t approve of me right away, I’ll just bribe him with cake,” Emma joked as she waved at the meticulously crafted dessert before them.

“Hey, don’t knock it! Far greater trials have been rectified with an Emma Swan dessert. What’s winning over the approval of one future brother-in-law?”

“Ruby,” Emma chastised as she looked to the doorway glad to see Henry wasn’t yet back to hear that means of summary. “You can’t just go saying things like that.”

“Why not? You and Killian are one hundred percent getting married. There’s no question about that. It’s just a matter of time.”

Emma loved the idea that that was the case because it was what she was fast accepting as the future she wanted. For years she’d denied that a marriage and a partner in life was what she desired, but Killian had shown her what could be and now her heart and mind had totally shifted gears. Emma felt a flutter of excitement course through her just at the thought of being Killian’s wife and calling him her husband, but three months was so short a time, and Ruby and the rest of Emma’s friends were known for getting ahead of themselves. Plus, it felt like when they said these things out loud that they were pushing, and the last thing Emma wanted was for Killian to feel pushed into acting before he was ready, even if she was swiftly accepting that she didn’t want a future without him in it with her and Henry.

“It’s just a matter of time until what?” Henry asked as he came back in and Emma raised a brow at Ruby, silently daring her friend to repeat what she’d actually said. Instead Ruby covered with her usual sassy flair.

“It’s just a matter of time until I can’t help myself and I start eating this cake. So you two gotta get the show on the road or Liam isn’t getting anything.”

Emma’s stomach flipped at the reminder, but Ruby was right. There was no need to delay any more and they should be getting home if only so she could get showered and changed before dinner time popped around. So without further ado, and with the calm that came from Henry hugging her tight before they headed out, Emma went to face this new milestone, knowing it was the first time (and hopefully the last) that she’d have to go through the whole meeting the family thing.

Things from there moved very quickly, but Emma was surprised at how easy it was. Henry, despite his still evident excitement, was the picture of perfect behavior and he gave Emma all the room to do what needed doing at home before they left. At no point did he plead to go over early or sneak out of the house, and his maturity in the face of this moment was a godsend for Emma. Especially when, right as they were leaving the house, Henry offered her some words of wisdom.

“You want to know how I know it’s all going to be okay, Mom?” Henry asked and Emma looked down at her son and nodded, running her hand along his shoulders encouragingly.

“Sure, kid. Lay it on me.”

“I know it’s going to work out because Killian wouldn’t let it go any other way. He’ll make this good for all of us, you’ll see.”

Emma actually felt tears stinging at her eyes when Henry said that with so much belief in his tone. It was beautiful that Henry could have that kind of faith, and Emma knew he was right because Killian had earned every bit of the trust needed to make that faith real. He’d spent months showing both Emma and Henry that their hearts were safe with him, and matter what happened, Killian would always be on their team, which was a powerful thing to hold onto in a moment like this.

“And here I was thinking you were going to sing my praises,” Emma joked as she ran a hand through Henry’s floppy hair. “You know I’m pretty cool, right? I’m likeable all on my own, thank you very much.”

“I’ve no doubt of that, love,” a voice said and Emma looked up to find that Killian and a man she’d never seen who must be Liam were already waiting for them. Well so much for a normal introduction, but from the familiar, charming grin that reminded Emma of Killian’s, Emma could tell Liam was honestly glad to see her. He stuck out his hand in greeting and introduced himself. “Liam Jones at your service.”

“Emma Swan, and I think you’ve already met my son Henry,” Emma said kindly as she cast her eyes from a nodding Liam to Killian. A pang went through her at the impact of their gazes, and she knew how much this moment meant to Killian and how happy he was to have it. That feeling was infectious and Emma found herself smiling even in the face of her nerves before laughing at Henry’s impatient form of greeting.

“Liam and I are old pals, right Liam?” Henry asked as he moved his hand to fist bump with the older man, and though Emma wondered if Liam would know what to do, he handled it gracefully with the same confident but endearing swagger that Killian always seemed to have.

It was obvious that Killian and Liam were related, especially when Liam spoke to Henry with the same accent and similar mannerisms, but as Killian came and took the cake from Emma’s grasp and kissed her cheek sweetly, she knew she’d never regret the brother her heart had chosen to love so truly. There was just something about Killian that was perfectly right for her, and though neither of them were without flaws, they meshed in a way that made the world seem new and Emma feel powerful and safe all at once.

“I missed you, Swan,” Killian whispered and Emma felt herself flushing with pleasure at the words but she chuckled at their sincerity before throwing him a knowing look in jest.

“How did you possibly have time? I would have though Liam would do whatever it took to keep you entertained.”

“I did my damndest,” Liam laughed out as they all headed inside. “But I’m afraid I was up against an impossible task. When a man’s left his heart with the woman he loves, he’ll always want her near. At least that’s what people tell me.”

“What people?” Henry asked as he picked up a scampering Luna into his arms. He looked genuinely curious and Liam pretended to think about it, going through exaggerated motions of trying to wrack his brain for his sources before providing a response.

“You know, I don’t know. Must have dreamed it up.”

“You get cool dreams too?!” Henry asked with renewed enthusiasm and Emma’s heart dropped. She felt Killian’s hand tighten around hers and she knew he was with her in the little bit of worry since Liam didn’t know about magic or Henry’s gifts, but Killian’s elder brother just rolled with it.

“Aye, lad. Sailors are prone to such things you know. Something about closeness to the sea that brings a certain kind of wisdom.”

Whether he picked up on the tension or not, Liam had successfully turned a moment of concern back into charted waters and from there Henry chatted a mile a minute about sailing and boats and the sea. Liam was totally game for it too, engaging on every level, and though Killian and Emma participated as well, it was calming for Emma to take a step back and just take it all in. That conversation continued through dinner, a spread that Emma was told had been mostly of Killian’s making with a little helpful guidance from Liam since Henry was detained, but the defining element of the night was that things just flowed. It became clear pretty soon that the worrying had been for nothing, and Liam was just the kind of man that Killian had said he was: witty, personable, and understanding in a way that made Emma feel accepted even without so many words passed between them.

Eventually though there did come a moment when a private conversation could be had between Emma and Liam, and she knew it was coming. For as easy as things had been up to now, there needed to be a moment when the truth won out. Emma wasn’t sure exactly how that conversation would look, but she was pleased when Killian and Henry had excused themselves to clean up the meal and go get the cake and Liam broke the silence between them.

“I truly can’t thank you enough, Emma,” Liam confessed, going right in with his feelings and surprising Emma with his sincere tone. She was so shocked really that she didn’t know how to play things, and so she went with what she knew best: a little bit of sass, and a fair amount of humor.

“Really? You haven’t even tried the cake yet. I could be a terrible baker.” At the words Liam laughed heartily himself but he shook his head as he did.

“That’s not what I was saying, though I trust Killian’s instincts and from all the praise he’s had for your cooking I’ve no doubts in my mind. Good thing too because he’s mostly hopeless in that kitchen.” Emma bit her lip at the reminder of Killian’s less developed skill set, but then Liam sobered and continued on. “I meant for all you’ve done for my brother. You’ve made him happy. Really happy. Truth be told I’ve never seen my brother this way, not even when we were kids, and I’m grateful to have the chance to now.”

“It’s a mutual thing,” Emma admitted as she peered back towards the doorway where she could see Killian and Henry getting the cake situated and laughing together. Their bond was on full display and it made her heart feel so full it could burst, but she shook away the happy tears that were forming to look back to Liam. “Killian fits here. It’s like he was always meant to find us.”

“Aye, that’s clear as day,” Liam said thoughtfully, but as Emma continued to watch Killian’s elder brother she noticed a little longing in his eyes where they’d drifted to look across the room.

It was as if Liam wanted to have such a vocation to a place as well, and Emma’s heart went out to him. It had to be hard to have spent one’s whole adult life fighting for a cause and traipsing around the world, and it must be even harder that now he was finally done his only family had come to a distant and remote part of the globe. But Emma didn’t get the chance to ask any more about it as Henry and Killian returned. At that moment the expression Liam had just been sporting faded away fast and instead he had that jovial and cheery face again. In truth he looked downright delighted at the cake before him and Emma was happy to have been any part of making that happen.

“Bloody hell, is this what I think it is?” Liam asked, not believing what he saw.

“Vanilla, vanilla and sprinkles, yeah!” Henry replied, clapping his hands together and then shaking them as if to say ‘ta da!’

“Wow, I haven’t had this since we were kids,” Liam mused and he looked up to Killian to share a silent thought that Killian put to words.

“Not since Mum was alive,” Killian said softly and Liam nodded but then he laughed as if a memory had flittered in through all the emotion.

“You know why she made this right?” Liam asked and Killian shook his head. “Because it was the only one she could get right. Even out of a box she never got the hang of any meal that needed time in an oven. Not that we cared though. Cake is cake.”

“You think that now, but be warned brother, my Swan is about to ruin you for all other baked goods.”

“Is that right?” Liam asked with a raised brow at his brother, no doubt because of the way he’d so openly labeled Emma as ‘his.’ Then he looked to Emma who just shrugged, trying to play it as cool as she could though she was filled with a flooding sense of pride at the compliment.

“What can I say? When he’s right he’s right.”

They all laughed at that, but when Liam did dig in, Killian’s hyperbolic claims were mostly proved right. He did enjoy the cake, much to Emma and Henry’s shared happiness, and everything that came thereafter over the course of this introductory meeting went better than Emma ever expected. It was truly a fun and enjoyable night, and when it was time to say goodbye, Emma was sorry to be leaving not just Killian but his funny, charismatic brother as well.

“I’m absolutely certain I’ll be seeing far more of you two,” Liam said as Killian and he walked Emma and Henry to the door. “And I’ll have to take you up on that tour of Storybrooke, lad. I can sense you’re the right man for the job.”

“Awesome! I won’t let you down, Liam,” Henry said and then he hugged Liam and Killian before heading out and back to the house, leaving Emma on the front step with the brothers Jones.

“I think this is my queue to make up a fake excuse to leave you two alone, but you’ll have to forgive me. With all the travel today I’m fresh out of white lies to give,” Liam teased and Killian pushed at his shoulder playfully before Liam waved goodbye and headed in again.

“Not exactly the way I saw tonight going, if I’m honest,” Killian said when they were finally alone and Emma looked to him immediately, wondering what he could have possibly found lacking.

“Really? I thought it was a pretty great night.”

“Oh it was, love,” Killian agreed as he pulled her into his arms and close enough to kiss. “But for it to be truly great it would have to end with us together.”

“Hmm,” Emma hummed out as she trailed her fingertips along the cotton of his shirt. “You make a good point. But you’ve told me before that you love a challenge, and from what I can tell this is one we can probably overcome.”

Killian muttered that there was no probably about it before pulling her in for a searing kiss. In the face of such a rush of desire and attraction Emma totally forgot that they were out there for anyone to see under the light of the moon and the front porch lantern, and she wanted to melt into this forever. But the time did come when reason returned, and Killian pulled back, smiling at her and leaving her with that gravelly, sexy as sin voice of his.

“How was that for the time being, Swan?” he asked and Emma chuckled.

“It was perfect,” she said, and with one last soft kiss pressed against his lips, she slipped away back into the house, closing the front door behind her and leaning her forehead against the cool wood.

For a moment she stood there, soaking in the lingering tingles of feeling that the kiss had sparked within her, but then a sound of a clearing throat came from behind her and Emma jumped, turning to see Henry looking pleased as could be.

“So what do you think?” Henry asked jovially and Emma smiled, shaking her head and leading Henry upstairs to bed.

“I think as far as brothers go, he’s a pretty fantastic brother to have,” Emma admitted.

“You know I could go for a brother,” Henry said then, shocking Emma with the casual way he dropped that hint. “Or a sister. I’m not picky.”

Emma was working so hard to act normal in the face of that announcement, and it was pretty freaking amazing that her jaw didn’t drop all the way to the floor. How Henry could keep doing this to her she didn’t know, but she was so taken aback by the way he so easily envisioned a future that Emma herself wanted. Some kids might have been scared of a family expanding or someone new joining the ranks of a duo that had worked so well for so long, but Henry wasn’t like that. He was a dreamer and ever the optimist, which made it impossible to answer him without emotion clogging her throat as she did.

“I’ll keep that in mind, kid. But for tonight it’s just us and I think it’s about time we get to bed.”

Henry agreed to that, going through his nightly routine and then saying he loved her before slipping off to bed. But it wasn’t as easy for Emma to do give way to sleep when she walked across the second floor to the other end of the house where her bedroom resided. She was restless now, and part of it was what Henry had just said to her, but part of it was something deeper.

When Killian had made that comment before about how a truly great night required them to be together, Emma had totally understood that. Those were her best nights, the ones where she slept soundly and felt the most comfortable and safe, and the ones where she felt truly whole. But alas, that wasn’t in the cards for them this evening, and Emma had just turned off the light in her room and surrendered herself to a long night of staring at the ceiling when she heard a soft thud at her window. A few seconds later there was another, and then another, and when Emma realized what it could be she couldn’t help but smile.

“God he can’t really be this cheesy, can he?” Emma asked aloud into the darkness, but when she got back up and moved to the window she saw Killian was in fact doing what she thought (which though corny was admittedly very cute). He was standing there under her window, throwing up tiny pebbles at her window pane and Emma bit her lip to keep from beaming down at him before sending him a gesture that she’d be down in just a minute. She was surprised though when he shook his head and then began climbing up the tree.

Throwing open her window, Emma was shocked at his actions. Was he seriously climbing up to her second floor bedroom right now like some rebellious teen? Emma couldn’t imagine why he would but he was, and Emma found herself automatically trying to help with his daring stunt by tossing in some tiny magical flourishes that emboldened the tree he was scaling so that each branch would be strong enough to hold the man she loved on his journey up to her.

“Killian, what are you doing?” Emma asked when they were face to face and he grinned in that sometimes boyish way that he had, which made any resistance on her part fade away.

“Putting us both out of our misery. Don’t tell me you weren’t missing me, love. I know you were.”

“Maybe,” Emma said with an air of feigned hesitation, but then he was in her room and had her in his arms carrying her to the bed and she confessed in a ragged whisper the truth. “Okay definitely.”

“That’s what I thought, Swan,” he said as he pulled back just long enough to close the window.

With a flick of her wrist and a silently cast spell that she’d grown used to using recently, Emma enacted the protections she’d put in place the first night Killian stayed here. It was all rather complicated to explain the logistics of the noise cancelling spell, and the original incantation design had been really involved and required a lot of creativity on her part, but now it was a normal tool in Emma’s arsenal and the result was basically a silent sort of alarm that would go off if Henry woke at any time in the night and tried to find her here in her room.

“But what about Liam?” Emma asked, knowing it was silly, but wanting to hear Killian’s take on this all the same as he came back to the bed and moved above her, surrounding her in the scent of him and the warmth he always brought to the surface of her life.

“My brother’s a grown man and he’s spent time in far worse encampments than that house. Besides, I’ll be sure to slip out early enough so he and Henry are none the wiser.”

Emma ran her hand along Killian’s chest, knowing that everything he said made sense, but part of her wondered if they had to even pretend at all. Some day this was going to be permanent, right? At least that’s what she was hoping. There would come a day eventually when Killian didn’t have to sneak back to his house in a tamer version of the walk of shame, and sharing a bed like this was just a part of their every day. And tonight with Henry’s talk of other kids and loving Liam and Killian, Emma felt like she’d taken one step closer to being ready for that. The only question was how would they get there, and how much longer would she have to be patient for that to be their normal reality?

“Whatever thoughts are flitting through that brilliant mind of yours, Emma, I promise we’ll make them happen.”

“Even if you have no idea what they are?” Emma asked smiling and pulling him even closer so he was just a whisper away from a kiss.

“Aye, love, for clearly they would bring you happiness and that’s all I could ever want.”

Unable to take his sweet and heartfelt promises anymore, Emma pulled Killian down for a passionate kiss and tried to pour the overflow of emotion she had into this embrace. Her feelings that had only been growing more and more as the months went on sparked like wildfire and suddenly her whole body flared with a need to take this further faster. Her patience was wearing thin, and she knew Killian was aware of that as he followed her every lead to get the clothes that still separated the two of them discarded with as much grace as possible. This was a dance they were growing more used to, but that didn’t change the fact that Emma’s heart was beating wildly or that her imagination was running in a million directions of all the ways they could sate this need tonight.

Every look, every touch, and every kiss were continued reminders for Emma that what she and Killian had found was real and worth fighting for. She clawed closer for purchase, wanting to be as close as she could, but it just wasn’t enough. To feel this connected was a rush that frayed every nerve in her system but in a fantastically glorious way, and she was caught up at once in this haze of silken pleasure and this raw and glaring awareness all at once.

“God I wish there were words for this. I wish I had a way to tell you all that you do to me, Swan,” Killian said at one point against her neck before he nipped at the spot that always adored attention most.

Emma groaned into the action, her eyes closing as she just tried to feel, but it was still nearly too much. Killian was everywhere at once, with roaming hands, heated words, and kisses that left her breathless as he graced each one upon her skin, but he also wasn’t where she needed him most. It was torture and heaven all at once and though Emma arched up, trying to instruct him as to what she wanted, she needn’t have bothered since Killian always knew her desires even before she did.

In keeping with his constant quest of granting her anything she could want, Killian’s wickedly placed nips and sucks moved lower to the slope of her breasts where one of his hands had been teasing for sometime. The addition of that masterfully talented mouth of his into the fray of all of the already blindingly sweet sensations had Emma already toeing the edge of the line between collectedness and shattering into climax, so all it took was the lazily drawn motion of his other hand down the curves of her body and to the most sensitive parts of her that were desperate for his touch. One swirl of his thumb against her clit and she was falling over, biting back the cry of his name that she would have given into if this wasn’t a stolen moment in the dark of a quiet night.

At some point in that onslaught, Emma’s eyes had closed again as she’d melted into the feeling of such beautiful wanting, but when she was spent she lazily opened them again. How she was ever supposed to rebound from something like that she didn’t know, but with Killian it would happen. He always found a way to keep giving when it came to her, and though it seemed impossible right now, she knew it was only a matter of time before he had her gasping and panting and shaking for more all over again.

“There’s nothing in the world as beautiful as that smile of yours, love,” Killian said as his eyes looked upon her face and Emma realized she was smiling. She hadn’t even noticed before, but her grin grew at his words of adoration and she ran her fingertips along his jaw with gentle care. “I swear it could get a man through the darkest of days, and as long as he had that to come home to it would all be worth it.”

Emma’s heart leaped at the comment and her hand stilled for just a moment as her silent thoughts went scattering all about asking a dozen different questions simultaneously. Did he realize what he’d just said about associating home with her? Could he picture a home with her and Henry here? Or was she reading too much into things in the heat of the moment and attributing ideas to Killian that didn’t actually exist in his mind yet? But finally Emma shook those thoughts away, grounding herself back in this moment which was so perfect it deserved her full attention.

“You make it impossible not to love you when you say things like that,” Emma confessed and Killian’s smile widened at that as a deep chuckle reverberated from his chest through her.

“I mean every word I say to you, Emma, as you well know. But honestly I’m not too proud to admit that wooing you into an undeniable love is my sincerest hope. I have to make myself totally irresistible, and then you’ll never want to leave.”

His words sparked something in Emma and she took him by surprise when she flipped their positions suddenly so she was now hovering above him. It made her almost giddy to see the look of shock on his face then melt into understanding and a fierce need too, but she had things to say before she got too sidetracked by the racy thoughts she saw flitting through his mind right now.

“I think it’s safe to say you’ve already achieved that. I’m not going anywhere, Killian, and I know you aren’t either.”

“Never,” he promised immediately. “I’m yours, Emma. Now and always.”

What more was there to say that couldn’t be expressed in a physical form of mutual satisfaction, and with this understanding between them, Emma intended to chase that. She allowed herself some heated perusals of her own and a fair bit of teasing in the hopes that she’d drive Killian as crazy as he made her only minutes ago, but it backfired slightly by getting her riled up all over again. Soon she was caving to what they both wanted, lining herself up until they were perfectly matched and he filled her completely over and over again. She tried to stave off her climax as long as she could, but all it took was a plea from the man she loved and she was there crashing into bliss with Killian right behind her.

For a while things were a little out of focus and everything was cast in a golden kind of hue for Emma as she once again found herself trying to regroup after something so amazing that it literally rocked her world. But when she was back again, and she felt the security and sureness of Killian’s arms wrapped around her in a comforting embrace, Emma also noticed that same happy hum of her magic brimming just under the surface. This time though, she wasn’t scared in the slightest of what might manifest in its presence, for she knew this was just a part of being with someone who she truly loved and who truly loved her back.

In truth whatever magic lay in store for them come morning, and whatever gifts this love of theirs would bring their way in the days and weeks to come, Emma knew it would all be lovely and beautiful and worth preserving. And as long as she and Killian kept choosing each other and finding their way back to this perfect place, everything would work out in the end. That was simply fate’s design, and Emma fell asleep that night smiling at the notion that she was living her destiny and finally following the path she was always meant to find that would bring her the joy and the light and the love she’d wanted as long for as she could remember.

Post-Note: So originally I was hoping that I might get to have Liam and Elsa meet in this chapter because I have a heart made of  pure fluff and I just wanted to write that so bad. But unfortunately my muse has been stubborn and we’ll have to wait for next time. Not that I mind too much though. It’s always cathartic to write scenes where Emma and Liam meet and they get along because that’s so far from what happened in the show. Anyway, next chapter as I have hinted will bring Thanksgiving celebrations, which will put Liam in the orbit of all of the friends. Since it’s a holiday chapter, you can also all expect lots of feels in the best way. So with that being said, I thank you all for reading, and I hope you have a fantastic rest of your day!

#captain swan #captain swan au #CS modern AU #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #cs fluff #cs smut #cs au #cs mc #emma swan #killian jones #the whole storybrooke gang #liam jones #henry #ouat au #some call it magic #some call it 13 #real world magic au

[ellanainthetardis]

And on we go! Let me know what you think! [ff] and [AO3]

4. Six Weeks

Tired of lying down on their bed and staring at the wall, Effie wandered downstairs. She still felt nauseous but that was quickly becoming the norm in the mornings. She hadn’t actually been sick yet though, which, as she understood it, was something to be grateful about. The nausea was something she could have done without anyway. It had gotten worse in the last couple of days, to the point she had taken to lying down until it was over.

Larcher claimed it was normal, that everything was going as expected and she should take it easy and stop worrying.

She would have loved to do nothing else but it wasn’t that simple.

She felt sluggish that day. She struggled to zip her dress up and she couldn’t decide if it was because she had gained weight or because nightmares had kept her up the previous night and she was too tired to be deft.

She bypassed the kitchen entirely, allowing herself a small smile when she heard the familiar voices chatting inside, knowing if she ventured in there she would get scolded. Apparently, the paint fumes were bad for her in her condition – she was starting to hate those words because everyone seemed particularly fond of them: “No, Effie, in your condition you should rest.”, “Sweetheart, you can’t carry groceries bags in your condition.”, “Shopping? In your condition? You’re mad?”… Listening to Haymitch and the children, you’d think she had come down with the plague not… the other thing.

It had taken Haymitch a week to finally start repainting the kitchen, time enough for his soles to heal, and he had enlisted Peeta’s help – for which Effie was grateful because she honestly trusted the boy with a paintbrush a lot more than she did Haymitch.

She dropped on the couch, trying and failing to ignore the surrounding mess. She hadn’t been as insistent on keeping a tidy house as she usually was and it showed. The rug was off center, there were wood chips around the fireplace from when Haymitch had stocked up logs beside it, and the coffee table was cluttered. There were at least two dirty mugs, half a dozen books on pregnancy and what to expect – Haymitch’s initiative, she didn’t want to even crack one open, she still thought there was no point – a forgotten hair tie from the previous night and, on the very edge, untouched since Doctor Larcher had brought them, a couple of leaflets about adoption agencies.

The urge to throw everything away – books and brochures alike – was tenacious but she refrained.

Some days, she regretted agreeing to this. The waiting was killing her. She was caught in a bad limbo of expectation.

She caught herself with her hand on her stomach and took it away.

It was ridiculous to do that.

Her stomach was still flat, not a bump to be seen, but she had never quite managed to gain back the weight she had lost in the Capitol’s cells. Larcher had seemed satisfied with her diet but had recommended that she ate when she was hungry regardless of the time, collations in between meals were more than fine apparently if only to keep her sugar levels up. Effie had spent her whole life avoiding such extravagances to remain fit and now she was expected to stuff herself. There were vitamins to take too, pretty pink pills that looked like candy but that often stayed stuck in her throat when she swallowed them.

There were some exclamations in the kitchen, a new voice joining in, and, before long, Katniss showed up in the living-room, dropping her game bag on the floor, waving a small yellow plastic bottle.

“I got you this from town.” the girl said without even a hello. “It’s lemon juice. If you drink some with your tea, it should reduce the nausea.”

Effie perked up at that piece of news and snatched the little bottle from her hand. “Truly? Oh, I need to try now…”

Katniss glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the kitchen and wrinkled her nose. “They’re almost done but I don’t think we can go in there yet. Let’s go to my house, I’ll make you some tea.”

Effie stood up without a single moment of hesitation, to the girl’s obvious amusement. Katniss grabbed her bag and stopped in the kitchen while Effie put on her coat and wrapped a silk scarf around her throat.

“I’m taking Effie home with me.” the girl said in the other room.

“She feels better?” Haymitch’s voice replied, clearly frowning. “She wasn’t feeling good. She’s sure she’s up to going out?”

“You really need to stop acting like a mother hen, Haymitch.” Katniss retorted.

“Yes, you really do.” Effie muttered under her breath, safe from being heard.

The walk to the children’s house was a short one but Effie was still relieved to reach the flowery backyard free from monstrous birds full of teeth. She tired easily those days – another thing that was apparently normal, as early as the situation was yet. She put the kettle to boil while Katniss quickly put her game in the fridge. She was careful not to look because the sight of dead adorable animals like squirrels made her nauseous for entirely different reasons – she didn’t need to know what sort of meat was in her stew or what it looked like before it was minced cubes.

She chatted absentmindedly about nonsensical things, not exactly minding Katniss’ silence because that was the norm. She kept up the one-sided conversation over the cup of tea, even if the girl was only giving monosyllabic answers, not really interested, she supposed, by the difference between frills and lace. Effie realized, once her cup was empty, that she indeed felt much better.

“This is miraculous.” she beamed at the small bottle of lemon juice. She even reached out and snatched a cupcake from the plate in the middle of the table. Peeta baked a lot when he had episodes and Effie figured one must have occurred the previous night. It was a chocolate cupcake and the noise she made when the melted chocolate core touched her tongue was clearly improper. Katniss’ lips twitched with amusement but she didn’t comment – small mercies, Haymitch wouldn’t have had that tact. “Was it your mother’s idea?” she asked curiously.

She would never have thought of using lemon.

“No, it was Annie’s.” Katniss shrugged, bringing her own cup to her lips. “She said it helped when she was pregnant with Finn.”

Her hand – and the cupcake – froze halfway to her mouth. She slowly placed it back down on the table, her mouth suddenly parched. “Did you tell Annie?”

The girl frowned, clearly confused for a second before realization dawned on her face. “Oh, sorry! You wanted to tell her yourself? It’s just that Jo called and we were talking and…”

“You told Johanna?” she cut her off very rudely, feeling her heart starting to race in her chest. That couldn’t be good for the… It would certainly not help the situation. She tried to regulate her breathing but she felt the telltale prickling in her fingers and she knew without a doubt there would be no avoiding a panic attack. She supposed it had been overdue. Not in front of Katniss, though. Certainly never in front of Katniss. “Dear, could you go fetch Haymitch for me?” she requested in as calm a voice as she could muster.

The girl was already out of her chair, a hand on her shoulder, all wide grey eyes. “Are you alright?”

Effie grabbed the edge of the table, trying to focus on the yellow bottle instead of her quickly tunneling vision.

“Perfectly.” she spat between two heavy breaths. “Please, go fetch Haymitch.”

Katniss hesitated and then nodded, scurrying away like a spooked rabbit.

As soon as she was alone, Effie buried her face in her hands and tried to calm down. There was no calming down though. Her fingers were shaking, she was dizzy… Her balance was precarious and she eased herself off the chair and to the floor before she could fall and break something… The sound of her blood rushing in her ears was deafening, it covered her loud desperate panting for breath…

She was abruptly scooped up from the cold floor and carried away – which didn’t help her dizziness in the slightest – until she was placed down on something soft that she supposed to be the couch. She was forced in a sitting position, steadied by two hands on her arms, and, when she opened her eyes, Haymitch was kneeling in front of her. His mouth was moving but she couldn’t hear his voice. She wanted to cry but she knew it would only make it worse. Eventually, he let go of her arms to frame her face with his hands.

Breathe

She read the word on his lips.

She focused on him, trying to match his breathing. There was a streak of yellow paint on his forehead and so much worry in his grey eyes…

“It’s okay, sweetheart…” he coaxed softly. “You just breathe. You’re safe. You’re with me. I won’t let anything hurt you. You’re safe. Just breathe.”

She wondered what it meant that they were so used to coaching each other through panic attacks and night terrors.

It took several more minutes before her breathing completely came back to normal and it was only then that he hauled himself off the floor and sat next to her on the couch. She slumped against him and he wrapped his arms around her.

“The children?” she asked in a still weak voice.

“Back home.” he answered, dropping a kiss on her head. “Katniss said it looked like a panic attack. I didn’t think you would want them to see.”

“Thank you.” she whispered, closing her eyes and burying her face in his neck.

“What was the trigger?” he prompted, nuzzling her hair with his nose.

“Everyone knows.” she replied, shutting her eyes tighter at the thought. “Katniss told Annie and Johanna and… Everyone will know.”

Everyone would know when the situation would eventually resolve itself and she would lose it. They would have to explain. They would have to…

Her breathing started quickening again.

“It’s just Jo and Annie.” Haymitch shrugged. “They’re family.”

“You do not understand!” she snarled, pushing herself away from him. “You do not…”

“Okay, okay… I don’t understand. But you need to calm down. Right now.” he cut her off. “Hyperventilating is no good for you and it can’t be good for the baby.”

“Don’t call it that!” she snapped.

He rolled his eyes. “What do you want me to call him? A fucking body-squatter?”

She ran a hand over her face, not even caring about her make-up at that point. “Don’t get attached to it.”

“I’m not…” he argued and then stopped. “Alright, let’s calm down, yeah? You’re just tired…”

“I am not tired!” she argued, raising her voice in frustration. “Stop saying I am this and that! Stop acting as if you have a clue about what is going on with me! Stop! Stop!” Tears burned her eyes and she immediately felt guilty. She reached for his arm, coiling her fingers around his wrist. “I am sorry. I am sorry, I do not know… I am sorry.”  

He was watching her with wariness and a little hint of amusement. “You’re going to hit me if I say you’re hormonal?”

She sniffed. “I might.”

Buttercup wandered in the living-room and paused to study them. He must have decided they weren’t much of a threat because he crept closer, jumped on the couch and made himself at home next to her. She carefully outstretched her hand and let him inspect it before scratching his head.

“You’re supposed to avoid cats.” he said. She turned her head to look at him with a puzzled look and he shrugged. “Some books say it’s better.”

“Are you an expert on pregnancies now?” she asked with some resentment.

He averted his eyes, his jaw clenched. “I just want to know what’s going on with you. I want to be prepared. You’re at week six so you may have nausea, maybe dizziness, your hormones are all over the place so I should be ready to you crying, laughing and shouting in the same fifteen minutes.  You might be constipated…”

“Haymitch!” she hissed, flushing red. “You really do not discuss this with a lady.”

“Everyone poops, sweetheart.” he scoffed.

“Be that as it may, I do not wish to discuss it.” she retorted.

“Fine.” he taunted. “You’re a lady and you only poop rainbows and butterflies like a bloody  unicorn.”

The urge to grab a cushion and slap his face with it was strong but she managed to refrain. “Did you learn all this by heart?”

His amusement turned to seriousness again. “I want to know what’s normal so I know if you’re okay or not. I want to make sure you’re alright.” He brushed his hand against her face. “I can’t let anything bad happen to you. I can’t.”

She covered his hand with hers and kept it in place. “What else… What else do they say in your books?”

He was hesitant when he brought his free hand to her stomach. “He’s about half an inch now and he’s starting to develop. Fingers and…”

“Stop.” she ordered, letting go of the hand on her cheek to grab the one on her stomach. She didn’t push it away, not really. She wanted to but she couldn’t. It was the oddest dilemma. “I do not want to hear this. I do not want to… When we lose it, it will be… I don’t want to know.”

His thumb ran on her stomach and she breathed out loudly.

“You really need to stop thinking like that, sweetheart.” he whispered. “You’re hurting yourself.”

“I will get hurt either way.” she retorted. “I cannot bear to hope only to… You are the one who spent years telling not to hope for those children and now… Why are you hoping? And what are you even hoping for?”

His face softened even more. “Effie, this child isn’t a tribute. It’s different.”

“No, it is not.” she argued. “I cannot be trusted with children. They always die and…”

“Effie.” he interrupted firmly. “That’s bullshit.”

“But it is not!” she sighed, tired of having to justify herself. “I am tired of talking about this and the children must be worried. I want to go home.”

He didn’t argue further but he kept watching her with the same worry that hadn’t left his eyes for the past week. Even when she switched to the escort persona for Katniss and Peeta’s sakes, he kept studying her, attentive to her smallest misstep. It was exhausting and she was almost glad to be able to use the situation excuse to go lie down far from them all.

She curled up on their bed and she went back to her waiting.

Waiting for a disaster to happen was exhausting.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #april showers