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pitchsidestories · 7 months

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Alex Scott's daughter (2) II Leah Williamson x Reader

"The feeling that I'm losing her forever And without really entering her world I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter That funny little girl Slipping through my fingers all the time I try to capture every minute." ~ ABBA, Slipping Through My Fingers

part 1 I arsenal women masterlist I word count: 1899

Thanks for your lovely feedback on part 1. We hope you enjoy part two aswell and what a better day to upload the oneshot when on Alex Scott birthday. ❤️

Alex Scott was buzzing with excitement. Even though she was the one who would stay at home tonight. She leaned at the bathroom door and watched you get ready in the mirror. Once again, she announced; “This is so exciting.“ “Mum, calm down. I’m just Leahs plus one at an event.“, you rolled your eyes with a slight smile because to be honest, it was kind of adorable. “Still!“, she replied. With a sigh, you gave up brushing your hair and turned to your mum; “Will you help me get ready?“ She seemed genuinely surprised but also very flattered by your request; “Do you want me to?“ “Yes, please. You always look so beautiful.“, you replied, handing her the brush. “

Aw, thank you, dear. Let me start with your hair.“, she smiled brightly and moved you to the edge of the bath tub, so you could sit while she did your hair. “Thanks.“ “Sit still.“, she reminded you with feigned sternness. “Fine.“, you gave in and let your mum brush your hair in peace. After a while of enjoyable silence, Alex gazed at the clock; “So, when is Leah going to pick you up?“ “In an hour. Thats enough time, right?“, you answered, trying to keep the nervousness out of your voice. Pensively, she tilted her head to the side; “Maybe. Do you have your outfit planned?“ “I thought about wearing a dress.“, you stated. From the reflection in the mirror you could see your mums eyes start to sparkle; “Which colour?“ “Black.“ She nodded once, satisfied with your choice; “Alright, that’s good. That leaves us some options for the make up.“ “Leah will wear a beige suit if that helps.“, you added, laughing as your mum grimaced. “It doesn’t. I want to make you look good, not her.“

Your laughter got quieted by Alex, pulling your hair into a tight bun on top of your head; “Ouch.“ “Stop whining.“ “That hurts more than crashing into Jen in training!“, you complained with a grin. The former football player kept pulling on your hair; “Oh please.“ “True story.“ “It’s not true.“, she replied as she took your chin and pulled out two strands to frame your face. Satisfied she examined her work, while you crossed your arms in front of your chest; “It’s!“ “Beauty is pain.“, your mum stated amused and started to apply your make up. “But you always make it look so easy.“

When it was finally time for you to put your black dress on you felt the look of the older woman looking moved by the way you looked tonight. Still, you could not help yourself, bit your lip and asked innocently:” What do you think? How do I look?” “You look gorgeous.”, Alex kissed your cheek carefully, so she did not ruin the makeup underneath. Gratefully you pressed her hand, and you hoped the brunette would feel what you tried to express: “Thanks for your help.” “I’m a little bit sad.”, the former football player confessed smiling. Indeed, you caught her swiping away a tear. Noticing this, you felt your throat tightening: “Oh no, why?” “That you’re going somewhere with Leah but not with me.”, Alex told you. Empathetically you stroked her arm: “Oh mum.” “I think Leah’s here.”, your mum changed the subject, on her lips a brave smile.

Excited Leah turned to one of her oldest friends: “Hi, is she ready?” “Yes. Come on, dear, your date’s here.”, the older woman turned to you. From the bathroom you shouted: “Coming!” In a minute you were standing in front of them: “Lee, you look gorgeous.” The blonde defender was looking stunned at you:” What? Oh, thanks, so do you.” The arsenal player was used to getting compliments, but your look made her breathless. “Stop drooling for my daughter, Leah!”, Alex mocked her. Even that did not stop Leah from pointing out:“ Look how beautiful she looks.” “Yes, I helped her, can’t believe that’s my baby!”, the former player squeaked.

Embarrassed you searched for your girlfriend’s hand: “Mum! Leah, it’s time to go.” “Yes, come on, we can’t be late.”, she agreed much to your relief. Happily you waved at the tv sports presenter:“Bye Mum.” “I’ll have her home by midnight. Promise.”, Leah said to her friend. Jokingly Alex replied:” I hope so.” “Bye Alex.”

Before you two were out of the door your mum yelled: “By the way she can stay past midnight too that would make me personally very proud.” As you got into the car, your cheeks were red: “Typical Mum.” “I wasn’t planning on getting you home before midnight anyway.”, the blonde confessed smirking. A cheeky grin appeared on your lips:“You did not hmm?” “No, I lied.”, the defender chuckled. Winking you told her:“Yeah but you were very convincing in the role as the respectable boyfriend.”“Yeah, I’m good at that.“, Leah laughed, hinting at the time a magazine mistook her for Alex’ boyfriend. “You are.“, you agreed, grinning.

As you realized that the cars in front of you had started to slow done, you nervously checked the time on your phone: “Do you think we should park somewhere here and walk the rest? We might be faster that way.“ “Why not stay in here? I think we’ll find something to do in the meantime.“, Leah smirked, sliding one hand on your bare knee. Laughing, you pushed her off of you; “Babe, we Lionesses have to present an award. We cannot not come.“ “Not our fault that we’re stuck in traffic.“, she replied, blinking innocently at you. “You can do anything you want later.“, you promised her with a wink. You leaned over to your girlfriend and kissed her passionately as you finally reached your destination. You both got out of the car.

Grabbing Leahs hand, you started to jog to the event. “We’ll just get you another run in on your road to recovery.“, you laughed. A little out of breath, you arrived right on time. Before stepping on the red carpet together, your girlfriend stopped you; “Wait!“ “Alright?“, you turned to her in surprise. The defender silently wiped a bit of your lipstick away that had smudged during the kiss. She gave you a short nod; “Ready?“ “Ready.“, you answered. “Let’s go then.“, Leah took your hand but you did not move. “Lee?“ “Yes?“ “Are you sure you want to be seen with me?“

The blonde football player immediately turned around, searching for your eyes; “I asked you to come with me, so yes. I am sure.“ You took a deep breath, sighing as you breathed out; “Okay.“ “Are you ready?“, she asked, furrowing her brows in worry. “I am.“, you confirmed, feeling your confidence slowly coming back. Leah smiled softly at you; “Let’s go then.“ Holding hands, you walked down the red carpet. Leah continued to tightly squeeze your hand for reassurance.

A journalist suddenly caught your attention, yelling the score of the Arsenal men game to your girlfriend; “Leah, Arsenal won!“ “Are you joking? Arsenal?“, she repeated excitedly. Turning to you, she asked; “Did you hear that?!“ “I did!“, you grinned, happier about Leahs enthusiasm then about the actual score.“That’s amazing.”, the defender couldn’t stop raving about it. “Oh yes.” “So proud of the boys.”, Leah hummed. Solemnly you promised her:“ Same. On the weekend we’ll win against villa too.” “Of course.”, the blonde grinned. “Promised.” Proudly Leah beamed at you: “I know you’ll.” To seal that promise you kissed her before saying:” Let’s go inside, shall we?” “Yes. We’re already late.”

It seems to be a reoccurring theme in the Scott family to run late. The matchday on Sunday was finally here and Leah and Alex were on their way to watch the game in the stands. “Shit, Lee, we need to hurry up. My girl is in the starting line!”, the former player swore loudly. Amused by one of her best friends the blonde replied:” And you’d be okay with being late if she wasn’t?” “No, but it might help us to get faster through the crowd.”, the brunette winked at her. Sceptical the England skipper replied: “Sure Alex.”

Despite her scepticism the words of the sports presenter helped them to get through the crowd faster. Satisfied Alex turned her head to the still playing Arsenal defender: “See? It works!” “Just sit down and watch the game.”, Leah answered with an eye roll. “Oh come on, can’t you admit that it helped us to get to our seats faster?” “Shh, they’re playing North London forever.”, the blonde whispered before starting to sing the song along with thousands of fans which made the usually calm and collected person she was turn into an emotional mess. Laughing the older woman apologized:“Sorry, nerd.” “As if you were any better.”, the younger defender commented giggling. Football was the way the friends had originally met and it still was one of the things they loved to share the most together. “I didn’t say I’m not one. The game is on.”

“I’m so nervous!”, Leah confessed, already biting her lip from the anticipation and excitement she felt. “Did you see that?”, the brunette cheered. Happily the blonde shouted:“Yes, girls!” As the Arsenal players on and off the pitch were celebrating their goal against villa in a full emirate’s stadium. A bright smile appeared on Alex’s lips: “That was amazing.” “Right?”, the England skipper asked, still feeling the rush of excitement as if she was on the pitch with her teammates who meant so much to her. In the second half it got even better for Arsenal as you scored an absolute banger of a goal much to the joy of the two women who were so dear to you. “Oh my god, she scored, Lee.”, the tv presenter told your girlfriend visibly thrilled.

“And what a goal!“, Leah gushed, barely able to stay in her seat. “It was stunning.“ Pointing down to you, your girlfriend laughed; “She can’t even believe it.“ Alex watched your surprised expression turn into a bright smile as you caught your team mates in a group hug; “To be fair, it doesn’t happen often to a defender as we know.“ “But if we score, we do it right.“, Leah added. Alex nodded along; “True though.“ When the game ended, Leah pushed out of her seat; “We have to celebrate with her.“ Alex followed suit; “Definitely.“

The two caught you as you left the pitch. “Mum, Lee, did you see that?“, you asked still in disbelief, your cheeks almost hurting from smiling. Alex pulled you into a tight hug, blowing a kiss on your temple; “You were so good tonight.“ “Your goal was amazing!“, Leah agreed, once your mum let go of you. Casually, she slipped a hand beneath your jawline and pulled you in for a kiss. You could have stayed in the moment forever, but the kiss was interrupted by Alex grimacing; “Ew!“ Leah rolled her eyes and you only gave a half-apologetic smile; “Sorry, mum.“ “No, it’s okay. I’m just joking.“, she replied, waving her hand for you two to go on. Instead, your girlfriend put her arm around you and looked at Alex; “Come on, girls. It’s time to celebrate.“ Happily, you let her pull you with her.

This night was about to be perfect. Not only did you score the game-winning goal but you also had your two favourite people with you.

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso fanfics #engwnt #lionesses #arsenal wfc #woso one shot #alex scott #alex scott x reader #awfc #woso community

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jackredfieldwasmyjacob · 1 year

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hello everyone, as your resident annoying spaniard currently playing pokemon scarlet and violet i wanted to make posts talking about references to my culture within the games!! i don't know how many of these i'll make but yeah, i'm just very excited about all of this, i've been playing pokemon since emerald and i've always wanted a region set in my country :)

i'll post all spoilers under the cut but i have yet to make a tag y'all can block (suggestions are welcome!)

the first obvious reference is of course the players house! even though from the outside it feels more latinamerican than iberian to me (gamefreak has fucked up in some extense regarding that, i'll talk about it don't worry), the inside is clearly spanish

everything from the paintings resembling a flamenco dancer and manchego windmills to the mounted plates (my grandma has some very similar ones, they're always white and blue or white and red) to the tiling in the kitchen screams spanish. you can even feel the popcorn walls (funnily enough the walls in my house are also painted in red and white/beige).

the next references can be found in nemona's mansion in the form of paintings:

the first painting mimics joaquín sorolla's style, while the second one does the same with joan miró. also, and i'm gonna say this a lot but i can't get over it... the floor tiling. it's literally that. i've seen that exact tiling irl.

this is a very obvious thing... but bocadillos / sandwiches lol

specifically this scene, of your mum giving you a bocadillo to have as a snack, is something repeated every day in the country; school and high school kids normally pack a bocadillo (or other snack) to have in the playground at break.

the worker trainer class looks exactly as workers in spain do, same outfit!

now we go with more obvious ones, food!!

first pic: paella (not with the traditional ingredients but it's something i guess); the 'juice with fruit' thing is most likely just sangría; escalivada is a vegetable dish from eastern iberia; tortilla de patatas (my personal favourite spanish dish); and finally the last food probably references gambas al ajillo, prawn with garlic and paprika basically.

second pic: patatas bravas can be found everywhere in spain, mostly as tapas or appetizers, and they're incredible. alfajores are usually associated with latin america, but it's true that they're also prepared in southern spain, usually around christmas time. coffee is a must in any spanish bar, it is a coffee country and café con leche is loved throughout spain. about quesadillas... those are mexican. pokemon slipped up with that one.

third pic: coming from the city that's most associated with churros in the country (one of the inspirations for mesagoza lol) i'm so happy they are in the game!!!! i love them and can't wait to get them in december dipped with hot chocolate, as it's traditional (i believe what we call hot chocolate is hot cocoa in other places?) i'm sad that there's no porras tho, that would've been a cool addition.

i imagine there'll be more dishes in other parts of the region, and i can't wait to find them all!!!

this one's very neat, the mailboxes are exactly the same as in spain :)

the academy classes look pretty similar to public high school classes, the distinct green desks and chairs are particularly noticeable

i'm not sure how this will be adressed in the english version so maybe this only makes sense in the spanish one, but it seems that the academy students are divided into sciences and humanities/social sciences/arts, just like irl spanish high schools

once again... floor tiles. the floor game in scarlet and violet is off the charts, the one in your character's room is one of the most common tile design in spain

that's all for my first day playing the game!

here's next post btw !!

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon sv #pokemon spoilers #pokemon sv spoilers #hope you like it :)

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animeomegas · 7 days

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Would Neji be considered a sad beige mom 🤔

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This is one of the funniest questions I've ever received and it's making me question everything.

I mean... Kind of 😭 Here's how I imagine his home:

Which I feel like... yes, he's a bit of a sad beige mum. He would make the pillows blue or green though, I think. He's okay with pops of nice muted colours lol.

This kind of colour palette:

His home is a bit more traditional, and he's not a professional interior designer, so it's not as swanky as the rooms above, but that's what he aims for.

He's also more than happy to hang up colourful children's drawings, and boxes of toys (plastic toys are banned, toys that make noise are especially banned, but colour is more than allowed.)

But yeah... I won't deny that he has sad beige mum energy haha!

#thank you for this ask #it made me laugh so hard #neji #headcanons #naruto

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star-trek-fandom-confessions · 4 months

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Confession #193

"If Kai Winn is Space Karen of DS9, then the Female Founder is one of those sad beige mums found on TikTok and Pinterest."

#confession 193 #star trek #star-trek-fandom-confessions #deep space nine #kai winn #female founder #female changeling

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saintmeghanmarkle · 2 months

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Eh? by u/Economy-Alfalfa-2241

Eh? Someone is going to have to explain posh branding to me - the nearest I get to posh is if we've got those carrots in that still have green stuff attached. They're all sneery, those carrots - because Lordy, where do I start?Most importantly: why is Megdusa wafting around in a huge frock and how hard were the camera crew laughing? Why is it so yellow and bleary? Did she dip the camera in the chip-pan? Are we supposed to think she's the long -suffering ghost of Casa Dumbarse: ancient seat of the House of Gobshite?Chip-pan Ghost™? Oh God help me sinners, I can't breathe 😂😂😂Is this Archfail? Or new shiny Sussex? Is one part of another? I mean, ChipPan Ghost is....something, but is this The Brand™? I'm almost expecting this to be some weird psy-op and Ari E is going to pop out from behind the huge skirts of the poshfrock with "ta-da! This is why you need our branding services!" complete with a whole new glo-up and we find out this strange, incoherent mess was all part of how to make a mahoossive SPLASH. Except Ari noped out so we just have a sort of sad.... "blop..."And what if I want Numbnut? Which of these variable organisations is him? This is the most incoherent launch I have ever seen and it leads to nowhere. No products, no services - it's the ultimate "jam later!" but it's posh jam? Say for a minute that I were utterly mental and I wanted to support Brand Suckarse: Reject Royals, then how do I...? Where do I....? Who do I...? There's no overall brand, just these placemarkers each with ill-defined lines.This is their need to stick it the monarchy; Dimbo *will have* the equivalent of the Duchy. But that not only grew up and created an entire market doing so, it's also intricately linked with the Crown and public holdings. You can't just replicate the entire thing elsewhere then try and force it into a business model that didn't even exist when the power structures of the UK were set and yes, the Duchy of Cornwall is private but it's certainly not extant just to feed a product line nor is it a straightforward company holding. It shows how little he really does know of our history that he doesn't understand why he doesn't get his own duchy to play with, waaaah.All that aside and assuming we do the usual bugger-all to stop them, even with everything working out and their keeping this, who will it even serve? Those who want tradition have a billion options, the lifestyle-gurus are selling a curated image based on themselves at least but this looks like it's trying to be BritainLite™ With no disrespect, do they have a target audience in the numbers, with the disposable income and of the strata of society to be buying The Lifestyle? There are plenty of middle-aged mums doing the whole beige thing, the younger ones have different dreams coming up....I just can't see the niche? And don't things like this rely not just on branding, but in repeat sales? Just.....who is this *FOR?* (Well, other than him, her and their egos 🙄)How many vanity projects can they support? post link: https://ift.tt/zLk4K86 author: Economy-Alfalfa-2241 submitted: March 15, 2024 at 03:36PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

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hostilemuppet · 3 months

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i don't think he would, but i imagine creek to be one of those sad beige moms. like that one tiktok mom who spray painted her daughter's christmas tree.

CHRIST 💀💀💀 i wouldnt say hes a sad beige mum but hes definitely a similar subspecies of cringy parenting. instead of saying grace before dinner he makes them re-align their chakras (they still dont know what that even means but they humour him bc they dont think he does either). he gives them dream catchers and they say "this doesnt seem culturally sensitive" and he says "good night, my darlings"

#text #tdau

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elf-indulgent · 2 months

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imho the sad beige mum thing is largely like some of the most privileged women ever (who actually have had a lot of agency throughout their life) encountering the realities of how much motherhood strips away their agency especially if they're expected to devote all their time and efforts to it while their husband isn't, and trying really hard to keep a lot of control over their life and space through aesthetic, which is very intentionally made up of "soothing" neutral colours. Which isn't to say its good at all, its obviously terrible for ur baby but that's my psychoanalysis of the situation🧐

#sad beige “mom” to translate for you americans

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becaexists · 1 year

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Watching OFMD with mum and she just said "sad beige clothes for sad beige pirates" because Jim said "life is disappointment"

#she says wonderful things sometimes #our flag means death #sad beige

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daystar-by-jacqui-natla · 10 months

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5. BENGAL COURT

LEAH DID MANAGE TO GET SOME SLEEP. SHE ONLY slept for five hours after the meeting with the Volturi. We waited for the morning to pass since the sun was out and shining. It was when the clouds covering the sky were when we travelled to the crime scene. We did hunt down animals to keep our thirst under control but when we do get thirsty at some point in the city, we'll have to find rats (which was Mum's favourite animal to hunt). Leah had food before we left and Ethan also packed a few clothes for her in case she might change into a wolf in case of danger approaching us; they were packed in his grey backpack.

I was wearing black jeans with rips on the knees and a black leather jacket with a dark grey loose vest underneath it; my hands were in leather black fingerless gloves. My black Dr Martens boots splashed on the little dirty puddles, leaving small filthy droplets on them. I definitely need to clean them after this. The rest of my family and Leah wore casual clothing. Starting with the men. Dad wore a black trench coat with a black turtleneck sweater and black trousers and shoes. Simon had a grey single-breasted trench lapel coat with a black shirt and blackish-grey jeans and maroon boots. Joseph had on a brown leather jacket with a grey hoodie, dark denim jeans and black boots. And finally, Ethan wore a purplish checked shirt with a magenta sweater over it, dark grey trousers and blue Converse trainers. He also had a trench coat to match his trousers. Now for the ladies. Mum wore a black-sleeved top, denim jeans, black boots with small heels and a beige trench coat over it. Alana wore a black skater dress with a grey leather jacket and tights and grey Oxford shoes. Rhona had on double denim (jacket and trousers) with brown boots and fingerless black gloves. And lastly, Leah had a dark green hoodie with black leggings and white trainers.

The murky clouds churned ominously overhead, threatening the promise of a torrential downpour. London always was both the wide avenues and the backstreets, had so many faces and a few voices were heard around her. I had gone into town a couple of times but I never thought London was a bit advanced, and there was no doubt about it. From the innovative subway system to the beautiful architecture, it was a modern metropolis. Even though there were new buildings, London was still vintage. The winding streets and Victorian architecture were hard to ignore. And that was where we arrived at.

Bengal Court was covered with blue and white tape with POLICE DO NOT CROSS on the white background. The feeling in the air at the crime scene was foreboding, making it clear that something terrible was afoot. The blood - or what was left of it - was dried into the concrete floor as flowers were laid by the nearest lamp alongside teddy bears and photos of the recently dead Nancy Clarke. She was a pretty girl too. She had light brown hair and hazel eyes with smooth tan skin. In the photo, she was wearing a white blouse and denim skinny jeans.

It was sad to see the dead girl and yet I wondered if she would be happy being dead rather than living eternity as a vampire. And have everyone thinks you're dead. That made me wonder a lot.

"There's no way a human is capable of this," Joseph was first to speak since arriving.

He was right too. We had heard stories from different people about how she died. More specifically, how she was founded. She was founded with blood draining out from her stomach with her rib cage completely broken as if she was crushed by a giant boulder. Her face — not youthful tan anymore — was gaunt and her eyes stared blankly into space, looking like she was tired.

"And they said that the victim is the seventh person who was killed," Simon commented. "Why didn't the Volturi do something about it when they were here?"

"I don't know, Simon," Dad replied, shaking his head. "I honestly don't know."

As they discussed, I spotted something glimmering on the crime scene floor. It looked like some kind of jewellery - a ring or maybe an earring - that was left behind with only a small crimson dot on it. I patted Dad's shoulder and he looked at me.

"What is it?" Dad asked.

I pointed to the crime scene, at the glow. "Something is shining at the crime scene."

Everyone glanced at the crime scene and Dad, after spotting it, fixed his gaze on the glow and his right arm bent into an angle. His fingers danced, his hand turned and the glow began to rise from the floor. It flew towards us and Dad gracefully caught it in his hand. It was a silver piece of a necklace, a heart-shaped piece with a black butterfly outline and a blue gem at the top. On the piece, two words were engraved in black: Little sis. I rubbed my heart piece necklace.

"Alana," he said and handed the piece over to her. "See what happened."

Alana took the piece into her hands and her thumbs and index fingers pressed against it. She stood still, her eyes widened and her lips pursed together. She was in complete focus, using her powers of clairvoyance. She froze for a few seconds until her golden eyes relaxed.

"I couldn't make it out," she admitted, shaking her head. "All I know is that she seemed to be viciously attacked by something."

"A vampire?" Rhona enquired.

"I don't know. She was tossing and turning, screaming in pain. Even vomiting out blood at one point."

"Well, we all know that it isn't a human doing it," Joseph said.

"Who or what could be doing this?" Mum puzzled. "We should step away from this."

We all agreed on this. Then, Dad spotted the alleyway and, with Mum holding on to him, decided to walk down there.

It took us less than five minutes to walk along the alleyway. The rained blacktop streets absorb the spring sunshine as if intent upon sending heaven's warmth back through my soles. The air was crisp after the night's rain. We skirted puddles and listened to the gutters dripping, keeping a watchful eye out as we moved onto the streets, not wanting to be surprised by anyone. But no one seemed to be out this time. Probably been advised by the news to not go out unless it was necessary. The snarling bull emblazoned above the doors would probably have looked more impressive at night, lit by garish red neon. But at this hour it felt more like a guard dog staring balefully from behind a gate, prepared to bite if I strayed too close.

I almost jumped.

A woman had tottered from a nearby doorway without noticing me. As I watched, she lifted her gaze, revealing a pair of ruby eyes. She moved her pale face and her brunette hair effortlessly swayed to the side. Her two-inch high heels, scarlet biker jacket and obscenely low cleavage all conspired to make my eyebrow rise. She was like a prude Victoria's Secret model.

"She's a prostitute," Alana whispered.

"Mum!" Ethan half-shouted as Simon watched on in shock.

"How can you tell, Lana?" Rhona asked.

"When a woman's breasts are on display, they want to come out to play," she explained herself.

I snickered. I never thought I would hear something like that from a vampire. I only could imagine them watching Alana in pure shock and horror at the same time.

"That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard in my life," Leah added.

"Just because we saw it, doesn't mean that —," Mum began to speak.

"Trust me," Alana interrupted. "I know one when I see one."

"Well, if that's the case, sweetheart," Simon said, looking down at her. "Why not ask her if she knows anything about the killings?"

"Sure thing, honey," Alana replied and walked towards the vampire woman; we soon followed her.

"So she was a wild cold one back then, huh?" Leah said softly to Ethan.

"Let's not go there," he answered, shaking his head as he felt embarrassed.

Alana stopped in front of the brunette and we surrounded her.

"Not a lot of passing trade at this hour?" Alana inquired meaningfully.

Not one hair on her brunette head moved out of place as she whipped around. She seemed to be surprised to see a bunch of gold eyes glaring at her. Either she never encountered any of them or was shocked to be visited by vampires at this time. Probably expected a woman or a smelly drunk to approach her; she visibly relaxed.

"It's early yet. Move along, goldie, you make the place look crowded."

Alana shared her smirk. "Have you worked in this neighbourhood for long?"

"What can I do for all of you?" she sounded more frustrated than before.

"We're looking for someone," Dad began. "A vampire named Joham? Do you know him?"

The vampire sighed and shook her head. "No, never heard of him."

"Okay. What about the killings that are happening around here?"

Her hand tapped while her arms folded. "Listen, goldie, I don't anything about this Dark Angel or the killings. If anything, you should check out a cult down the street."

"We're not here for—," Joseph spoke up.

"What cult?" Simon enquired, quietening him.

She jerked her head disdainfully, "The Cult of Astaroth," she replied plainly and without pleasure. "I heard some crazy stuff happening there. And there's a lot of trouble now, Member problems. Things need to lie quiet for a while."

"What sort of trouble?" I asked.

She regarded me carefully. "You don't hang out around here, huh, little goldie? No one knows why, or how. I did hear someone say it was the Dark Angel, but who knows for sure? Astaroth's people... Very messy business."

I didn't miss the way she shuddered. It was small, and she tried to hide it, but it was there. Her eyes, darkened as if they were eyeshadows, narrowed as she took us in, perhaps for the first time. "What do you want to find Joham and who's responsible for the killings?"

"I was asked by old acquaintances," Dad winced inwardly. "Someone brought up that name during a trial and then... asked us for help."

She sighed and leaned against the wall. "Tell you what, I know a guy who knew the leader of the cult, many years ago. Name's Alistair. He does have a distaste for him. He hangs about in Hampstead Heath especially under weather like this," she shook her head but was smiling, "He's not the social type, but you never know, might be worth a shot."

I remembered meeting Alistair for the first time. She was right about him not being social.

"Better than anything we've had so far," Alana muttered, noting down 'not the social type' for a later time. "I didn't catch your name?"

"Rebecca," she replied, already rummaging in her bag. "Everyone knows me around here. But you watch out, goldies. The cult's a psychotic operation, and these members would do anything for him."

"How so?" I pressed, wrinkling my nose.

"He owes his years of dealing with humans to his innate power to influence the decisions of those around him." She must have noticed my scepticism showing through because her smile gained a Cheshire cat's smugness. "He can easily change the decisions of his targets, make them make the choice he chooses. I don't know if he controls the mind head-on, or if he has an extremely persuasive effect on his targets."

"He can manipulate decisions?" Joseph's words skipped out automatically.

"That's what I'm saying," she sounded annoyed. "He makes the final choice in the end, regardless if they're vampires or humans."

Come to think of it, maybe this cult might have something to do with it. Maybe this leader's ability might have been the reason for all the killings. Yet, I didn't understand how this got something to do with Joham.

Rebecca shook her head in concern. "Yeah, you be careful, goldies. There are a lot of sickoes loose on the streets!"

"Yeah," Alana replied vaguely.

"That's okay. Some of us like it that way!"

Whatever floats your boat.

Before we could say our farewells, Rebecca's nose flared and her pale face crumbled like a piece of paper. "What's that rotten smell?" She asked, her tone disgusted. Then, she spotted Leah, with her hood up. "Take a shower," she said in a harsh tone.

Leah growled at her remark.

Continue to 6. HAMPSTEAD HEATH

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demonbanisher · 2 years

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OKAY - I promised soft sad today cause we did silly fluff yesterday, but I don’t know if this fits? It is soft sad but also with a happy ending? Either way I gave myself a ton of feelings about this fictional baby that I am now super attached to. Let me know how I did 😂

TW: mentions of past mistreatment by doctors, misgendering (happens once and is an accident that is immediately corrected), discussions of gender, and gender discrimination as a child

Unexpected AU Master List

Gremlin

Remus was pretty sure children’s doctor office’s hadn’t changed since the last time he’d been in one. Still the same faded cartoons stuck to the wall. Still the same bland, peeling beige paint behind it. Still the same fear deep down in his chest.

It was just Addie’s six week checkup. There wasn’t anything wrong, or if there was he guessed that was what they were here for, it was just he wasn’t very fond of doctor’s offices on the best of occasions.

The doctor strode through the door with his eyes focused on his clipboard. “How are we doing Mum and Dad?” He looked up at them and froze, glancing down at his paper and frowning. “Sorry, someone clearly made a mistake on the paperwork, but I’ll get that cleared up. Is this Addie?”

Sirius followed the doctor’s gaze to their baby that Remus was clutching desperately close to his chest.

“Can I take a look?” The doctor asked, all smiles.

Sirius took a closer look at husband before turning back to the doctor. “I’m sorry, I’m certain you are very busy but could you give us a moment?”

The doctor’s eyes went from Sirius to Remus and back before his smile returned. “Of course, I have another patient next door. I’ll just do their check up first.”

“Thank you,” Sirius said and watched the doctor leave before turning his attention back to Remus. “You’re squishing her love.”

Remus quickly relaxed his grip. “Sorry.”

“Did the doctor calling you Mum upset you? I think it was just a clerical error but I can talk to him if you want.”

Remus shook his head slowly.

“What is it?” Sirius asked, rubbing soothing circles into his back.

Remus took another shaky breath in and out. “They can’t make her choose.”

“Can’t make her choose what darling?”

Remus closed his eyes, watching himself grow up in doctor’s offices. In moving from clinic, to clinic, to clinic with every one of them having those faded cartoon characters on the wall. He remembered his mom yelling at doctors about things he didn’t understand yet, and asking what the doctor meant by ‘is it a boy or a girl yet’ as she buckled him into carseats. He remembered doctors frowning at paperwork and talking about ticking clocks and normal and fitting in. He remembered the doctors who looked at him like a thing and the ones who looked at him like a problem and finally the one that looked at him like he was a kid. But more than anything, despite his mother’s reassurances, he remembers the overwhelming pressure to choose. Who was he going to be? What did he want them to do?

Remus looked at the peeling Mickey Mouse on the wall and felt small and powerless and confused all over again. So he turned his gaze down to his feet instead. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. What’s going on?”

“Doctors weren’t always nice to me as a kid.”

Realization dawned on Sirius. “Ah.”

“I know Addie isn’t intersex or at least as far as we know she isn’t but I don’t know if we’re doing the right thing.”

“What do you mean the right thing?” Sirius asked, but before Remus could answer the door opened and the doctor strode back in.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

“Yes,” Remus said. “I’m intersex. That’s probably why they made that mistake on Addie’s file. I didn’t have the best experiences with doctor’s growing up so I guess I’m just a little nervous.”

“Oh, well I’m sorry to hear that but I’m going to do my best to make sure Addie gets the best care. Can I take a look at her now?”

Remus nodded and got up to help the doctor complete all the procedures he needed to, confirming Addie was the right height and the right weight, that her eyes and her heart were developing good and briefed them on her upcoming vaccinations. Overall, everything went smoothly and yet there was this lingering dread that Remus couldn’t shake.

Sirius waited until they were back in the car to ask about it. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Remus said. “I need more time to think. Let’s wait til Addie is down for her nap.”

They drove home in silence after that. Addie was already half asleep from the car ride and nodded off shortly after they set her down in her crib.

Sirius set up the monitor spell and then they headed into the living room to sit down. “Okay love, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know if we’re doing the right thing.”

Sirius just gave him his full attention and waited for him to speak.

“‘I have her.’ That was the first thing you said to me after Addie was born and it just made sense. We had a baby girl.

“When I was born no one said to my mom its a girl or its a boy and they wanted my mom to pick, but she didn’t want to because she didn’t believe it was her decision to make. What if we’re making Addie’s decision for her? Why did we just decide that she’s a girl because of how her body looks?”

Sirius thought for a moment. “You can tell me if I’m way out of line here, but didn’t your mom still choose for you? Isn’t choosing to raise you with gender neutral pronouns still a choice?

“I know my experience with gender and sex is completely different to yours and I’m willing to take your lead on this if you want, but I also know we make a thousand choices for her everyday. I put a Quidditch onesie on her the other day just cause I thought it looked cute. She doesn’t even know what Quidditch is yet.

“I know us and I know we aren’t going to cover her in bows and dresses and everything pink just because she has a vagina, right?”

“Right,” Remus said. That wasn’t even something they’d needed to discuss.

“So, I know we fell into she/her pronouns for Addie and we did so because that’s what a lot of people have done before us and that’s the norm for what a lot of parents do with their kids. But she and her are just words right? You can use she and her and identify as a man if that’s what works for you. You can use she and her and be non-binary. You can use she and her and be a demigirl or a demiboy or a thousand other things. If you want to change Addie’s pronouns to something that is more widely acknowledged as genderless then we can do that, but also I think at the end of the day she and her are words and as long as we let her know that they don’t shape who she is or how she understands herself or who she wants to be then I think that’s what really matters.”

Remus nodded along in agreement, but in the end still ended up staring down in his lap as his eyes watered. “I look at her and she feels like my little girl and I feel wrong for thinking that.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I know gender is all fucked anyways, but I guess I’m scared I’m going to end up hurting her with the same ideas that hurt me.”

“Remus,” Sirius said softly, his voice full of love and adoration and sadness that Remus ever had to feel bad for being who he was.

“When I was little my mum took me to the fabric store with her and let me pick anything I wanted and I picked this blue fabric that had construction vehicles on it but I wanted it as a dress. So she made it for me and I was supposed to have a playdate with this kid Michael I’d befriended at a library program. I must have been four or five. Michael’s mom took one look at me and turned to my mom and said ‘Sorry, I thought you had a son.’ My mom said, ‘I don’t. I have a child.’ She told her she didn’t want me confusing her son and sent us home.

“I couldn’t figure out what went wrong. I was too little, but I decided it was the dress and no matter how hard my mom tried I refused to put it on again.

“I never want Addie to feel like that. I never want Addie to think that’s she’s undesirable for being who she is.” Remus looked up at Sirius’s with watery eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why this is so hard for me.”

“Oh Moons,” Sirius said as he pulled him against him. “It’s hard because you’re a good dad and a good person. It’s hard because you know how messed up the world can be about things that don’t really exist but still matter because we’ve decided they do. You care so much about getting this right, about keeping Addie safe and making sure she’s alright. It’s hard because little you is still hurting and you never want Addie to hurt that way.”

“Is it wrong for us to call her our daughter?”

Sirius laughed. “I mean we’ve both called her happy little accident, gremlin, toes, bumblebee, pup, and spoons in the last six weeks so I think if you want daughter’s just another name on an already pretty weird list and if she grows up and that word means something to her that’s fine and if she wants to be a gremlin then we keep her away from water and that’s fine too.”

“I never should have shown you that film.”

“Best Christmas movie ever. I’m still sad mogwai don’t exist in the magical world.”

“You and James would have taken down Hogwarts with an infestation if they did.”

“Yeah,” Sirius admitted. “Probably for the best.”

“And I would have had to kill them all for you.”

Sirius snuggled in closer to him. “And I would have loved you all the more for it.”

Remus shook his head and kissed Sirius in a way that he hoped communicated that he was both insufferable and that Remus wouldn’t want to spend his life with anyone else.

“So daughter?” Sirius asked.

Remus nodded. “I can do daughter. She can be both daughter and too young to have any perception or understanding of gender at the same time. Even though gender doesn’t exist, but also it does and please don’t get me started on this rant again.”

“I can keep talking about Gremlins instead?”

Remus laughed. “You want to watch it now, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Alright, let’s see how many violent gremlin deaths we can get through before Addie gets up.”

Sirius grinned and got up in search of the film. They didn’t even make it as far as Randall spilling water on gizmo before their little gremlin was demanding to fed.

When Sirius had a quiet moment, he called Hope asking if she still had Remus’s construction dress. She did and told him she hadn’t had it in her heart to throw it away. Sirius had her send it to him and then magically altered it so it would grow with Addie. The first day he brought her out in it Remus cried so hard Sirius was terrified he made a mistake.

“I’m sorry,” he told him. “I thought this was a good idea but I’ll go and change her right now.”

“No,” Remus choked out, catching his hand as he tried to get the torrent of tears under control. “Little me is a little sad, but also so so happy someone gets to wear what they did not. They didn’t think they’d get to grow up into me. They’re thinking of Michael and that maybe he needed to be confused. I just,” he took in a shuddering breath. “Fuck it, just give me my daughter. I need to feel things while I look at her adorable face.”

Sirius smiled and handed her over and watched as Remus brushed tears out of his eyes and whispered to her how she was so handsome, so beautiful, so perfect and that within her she had the power to be whoever she wanted to be. Gremlins is gender. No, I will not explain.

#wolfstar #wolfstar parents #wolfstar fluff #hurt/comfort #unexpected au #big gender feelings #and lots of gremlin jokes and references

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bearsinpotatosacks · 1 year

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A Feather on the Wind - Reuben Fitch

Previous Chapter

Reuben refuses to make this place home, but can he get convinced otherwise?

Words: 3492

He'd been waiting for this day for over a week. It was all he'd been waiting for throughout the sleepless nights and smiling faces. The photo he had of his mum was wrinkled from how often he'd held it. He was just glad he didn't have to adjust to a new school, his brain had been so full with adjusting that he wouldn't have made a good start, not that they were making too many concessions for that at his school now.

The clunk of the ticking clock filled the silence. He shuffled his feet on the carpet, fingers were going numb from how he was sitting on them.

The air in this hospice was stuffy. Everything was beige, the walls, the furniture, even the atmosphere was. It was nothing like his home. There were no flowers for a start, his mum was always growing flowers and keeping them in vases around the house.

There was no laughter in these halls. He'd missed his mum's laugh so much. She was everything to him. And now he could only see her when it was arranged prior.

"Reuben Fitch?" The receptionist called.

He sat up and made eye contact. His heart began to quicken its pace. A clammy feeling took over his hands.

"Your mum's ready now, she may be a bit tired but she's been so excited about your visit."

Time stopped for a second. He remembered what it was like before he got taken away. She'd stayed in bed most days but on the days she didn't, her body was frail. He tried his best to help even though she wouldn't let him. It broke his heart to see her so ill.

"Her room's at the end of the corridor," she said and pointed.

Carole stood up and extended a hand. He didn't take it yet couldn’t help but admit that her smile eased the anxiety in his stomach.

The bland scent followed them as they walked past identical beige walls and mediocre artwork. An overcast sky did nothing to make this place feel more alive. Why did he feel like his mum was only going to get worse in such an energy sapping place?

As they reached her door, he stopped, not able to bring himself to open the door. He didn't know what he'd see when he went in. What if she was worse? He pictured an almost lifeless version of his mum, stuck in a chair and destined to never get out of this place.

"What are you waiting for?" Carole asked.

Her tone wasn't offensive. It was the same sweet one she always had.

"I can't do it."

"Can't do what?"

"See her."

She hummed and pulled him away from the door. Kneeling down, she looked him straight in the eye and gently rubbed his arm.

"Yes you can," she said. "I know it seems scary now but this is all you've been talking about all week, I know you can do this."

He pushed her hand off, rubbing where she'd touched as he averted her confident gaze.

"You don't get it, what if she's not like my mum anymore!"

Something else, a shadow of sadness flickered in her blue eyes. He hadn't seen that before.

"I do get it, trust me." She took a deep breath. "My dad had cancer a few years back, he died of it but when it came to the end, I felt just as scared as you are now. I didn't want to see him so ill. That wasn't the dad I remembered."

"But I still went in because I knew he needed me, and because I knew I'd regret it if I didn't," she said. "And I know you can do this, okay?"

He took a deep shaky breath and nodded. His eyes fell back on the door. He could do this, it was his mum, of course he could do this.

Opening the door with a creak, he saw her sitting near the window. Thin blinds let light through. He could see the garden through the translucent material.

She turned to see him and a smile grew on her fatigued face. There were more lines than before, and no life in her face as she took him in. She was thinner. Her pyjamas hung off her body and a fuzzy blanket wrought tightly around her lithe frame.

"Baby!" Her voice was thin too, breathy.

She looked at Carole in the doorway for a moment, she must've waved because his mum waved back. The door clicked shut behind him. That heavy feeling in his gut came back. His body was on the verge of shaking like a leaf.

"Come here, you-" she gestured for him to come closer, he did without thinking despite the anxiety. "Have you grown? And your hair looks so good, and your skin?"

She stroked his cheeks, squishing them as laughter filled the room. But laughter wasn't enough. The walls were still beige. And the garden sat plain and unimaginative outside.

"Are they feeding you? Cleaning your clothes? Not hurting you are they?"

"No, Mum, they're really nice," he nuzzled into her hand. "But I miss your curries, Carole's food is nice but it's not yours."

"But they're good to you, yeah?"

"Yeah, there's this other kid there, not their son, called Mickey who I'm sharing a room with, he's really nice."

Her shoulders relaxed, "I'm glad you made a friend, and their son, he's alright?"

"Yeah, we're about the same age, he's more focused though, not mean, just focuses on himself," he said. "His parents have been foster parents since he was four so I think he's used to new kids by now."

She smiled and lay a kiss on his forehead. He pulled up a chair and sat down as he listened to her talk about life here. Despite her forced optimism, he could see how much this place was wearing her down. The usual wonder in her stories was missing.

“The nurses are looking after me though, Steven is especially nice, he makes sure Fresh Prince is on every Monday and helps me in the garden,” she said

There was a wheeze in her voice as she spoke. He could tell in the way her body tensed around him that she was holding back. But eventually she couldn't hold back anymore and broke into a fit of coughing.

He jumped off her lap as he remembered the last few months of his life. He'd lay awake, listening to her cough over and over again deep into the night. Involuntarily, his hands began to shake. There was nothing more he wanted to do than to help her but he couldn’t move.

"Water, Reuben, baby, pass me the water," she croaked through coughs.

He stared for a few moments more. A pitcher of water glimmered in the overcast sun. With his hands still shaking, he poured a few splashes of water into a nearby glass and handed it to his mum.

After a few moments, she calmed down but the energy she'd previously had was gone. Instead, it was replaced with that fatigue that he knew well.

"Tell me how school's been going?" She wheezed.

They weren't going to talk about it? Why were they pushing that off so easily?

"Good," he said with hesitation. "I've been trying hard in my classes but, with the change, it's been difficult to concentrate."

"That's understandable, baby, and it won't be for too long, right? By the end of the year your dad will be home and this will all go back to normal."

Dad. He missed him like an ache deep within himself. The only reason he was in care was because of the Marines not letting his dad back to look after him. He was in the middle of another tour and the military didn't give parental leave.

"Let's hope so."

They fell into silence. His mum's body slumped as they waited for each of them to say something. Usually, conversation flowed naturally between them but now he could see how little energy she had.

"Maybe I should go, mum," he said.

"Already? You just got here!"

"I just think you should rest, I want you to get better."

Reluctantly, she nodded with a shallow sigh. He shuffled forward to give her a hug. His fingers tightened on her baggy clothes. Her usual homely scent was gone, replaced with a stuffy, clinical smell that lingered all around.

"Look after yourself, you," she said.

"You too, mum,"

Tears pricked in his eyes as she kissed him on the forehead. He held onto the feeling of her hand against his cheek as he pulled away. He tried not to see how much she withered as he turned his back to leave.

~~~

Reuben ws silent on the drive home. He simply stared out the window. From what she could tell, the visit had been alright, she knew better than to go in and intrude if he didn't want her there. But the visit had been short. After his blip of insecurity, he’d gone back to being the excited kid he had been for the past week he'd been with them.

"How was your visit, then?" She tried.

"Good."

"Is your mum looking better?"

No reply. Maybe that was a no. She wanted to carry on, yet knew that needling him with questions probably wasn't what he wanted.

"I was thinking, maybe next time we could bring her something, like some flowers to light up her room?" She glanced over to him, he'd moved his head to look at her. "Maybe have a think about some stuff she might like, a picture of you might be nice or if you know her favourite flowers then we could get some of them? Just have a think."

"Okay," he mumbled.

They pulled into the drive. Reuben got up like a shot and stormed into the house. He didn't slam any doors or stomp but couldn't look anyone in the eye.

"Hey Reub, how was your v-" Goose started.

He watched him storm up the stairs with a slightly gaping mouth. Bradley came in from the living room, the television playing quietly in the background.

"What was that about?" He asked.

"No idea," she said. "I mean, he was anxious about seeing his mum but he said it went well, although he didn't tell me very much."

She looked up the stairs again, considering whether she should follow him up there but decided against it. Today had been a tough day, maybe he just needed some time to himself. To process.

~~~

Once he'd got into his room, his and Mickey's room anyway, all he'd wanted was to be alone. His mum had been so frail. Her dreads hung off her head, bags under her eyes made her seem years older than she actually was. The red undertones of her skin had turned ashy and sickly. Fatigue was laced in her eyes.

That wasn't his mum. His mum was the life of the room. She spent hours in the garden, tending to her flowers and humming under her breath.

Where had she gone? Had this cancer taken her away from him so much? Would he ever get her back?

"How was your mum?" Mickey asked.

He was playing alone in the corner with some action figures from a show he didn't know. To him, this place was home. Goose and Carole were caring and considerate.

For Reuben, though, he didn't want this place to be home. It never could be.

"She's sick, what do you expect?"

"I bet it was nice to see her, though,"

"I guess."

He sat down next to him. A stinging feeling poked his eyes, one he couldn’t stop anymore. He wanted all of this to stop. Why did it have to happen to him? Why did his mum have to be sick? Why did his dad have to be halfway across the world with the Marines? Why couldn’t he just have a normal family?

"If I tell you something will you promise not to tell?"

~~~

Mickey stared at Reuben confused. What was he going to tell him that was so serious?

"Yes."

His mind began to race with possibilities. Maybe he was going to run away. Maybe his mum had actually died and he hadn't told anyone. Maybe he was going to leave because his dad was back from the Marines.

"Seeing my mum made things worse," Reuben said.

"Worse? How? She is nice, right?"

"Yeah," Reuben nodded, his eyebrows furrowed in what could be confused, Mickey always struggled to understand. "It's just that it reminded of how little I wanted to be here in the first place."

"But why don't you want to be here? Here's good."

Mickey thought back to his parents. It had taken a bit of adjustment. He still felt uncomfortable around group meals. The shock when Carole cleaned and bandaged his scabs from when he played outside, or when Nick helped him with his school work, remained as full as it had the day before.

"It's not home, though. Home is with my parents, when my mum's not sick and my dad's not away. This place can never be home."

From what Mickey had heard from Reuben, his parents were lovely. They had barbecues and made cakes, they, whenever his dad wasn't out with the marines, went to his parents' evenings and zoos and museums. He came from a strong and loving home whereas Mickey didn't. The only thing he knew of caring homes like that was this place, with the Bradshaws, so the idea that Reuben wasn't happy in a place like this confused him.

A strange feeling pooled in his gut. He hadn't felt it for a while, not since he was taken away from his parents. To him, there was only one thing different between the Fitches and the Bradshaws. Him.

"My dad's going to be back soon, anyway, and I'll be back home again where things make sense."

His words were far away, as though he was underwater. The feeling in his gut spread up and into his throat. Tears pricked in his eyes. He liked Reuben, he was the closest thing to a friend he'd ever had and now he realised he didn't like him at all.

It didn't matter what Carole or Nick said, he was the bad thing that made his parents not love him. How could he not be when Reuben hated it here too? They shared a room after all.

He couldn’t sit here anymore. His pulse throbbed in his head as he stood up and darted out of the room.

~~~

Reuben watched as Mickey ran out. Was it something he said? Maybe it was something about his parents, he knew they weren't the best.

He followed him out and down the stairs. In the distance, he heard rapid scrambled words. He barely caught himself as stumbled across the wooden floor and into the kitchen.

"Okay, slow down, Mickey, and explain it to me again," Carole said.

Mickey was in a flood of tears. Red rimmed eyes overflowing. A sleek sheen from his crying made his cheeks shiny.

"Reuben was saying how he doesn't want to be here but his home and here are both nice but he doesn't like it here so it must be me and he doesn't like me but I want him to like me and-" the words burst out of him all in one breath.

Carole knelt down and patted his shoulder, "Okay, okay-"

Reuben couldn't stand and just watch. The words left his mouth before he had time to think.

"Dude! You weren't meant to tell her! I told you that was a secret for a reason!"

This didn't help Mickey's state. He took one look at Reuben and burst into a bigger flood of tears.

Upon hearing the commotion, Nick walked in from the garden. He stood on the threshold for a second, hands on his hips, surveying the situation, before jumping in to help.

"Right, let's all calm down-"

"I don't need to calm down, I want Mickey to apologise for breaking my promise!"

"See!" Mickey sobbed. "He does hate me!"

Carole pulled him into her and wrapped him in her arms. Mickey's hands gripped the back kf her cardigan in a vice-like grip as his sobs were muffled by her skirt.

"Reuben, come outside with me." Nick said with a slight assertive note to it.

He must be mad. Why was he mad at him though? Mickey was the one breaking promises like they didn't mean anything. This was exactly why he didn't like this place, all the rules were different, and there were definite favourites.

As Carole led Mickey into the living room, Reuben followed Goose outside to the back porch. Flowers bordered the garden below. The smell of freshly cut grass floated on the breeze, the lawnmower sat abandoned on the lawn.

"Come on, sit down," Nick patted the steps next to him.

Reuben stared for a moment then sat. Nick didn't say anything at first, his eyes were set straight ahead. In the silence, Reuben focused on the world around him. Birds sang in the distance. Laughter and the burning smell of barbecues solidified early summer.

Reuben couldn't stand the silence, "Are you going to shout at me?"

"No."

"Then why did you take me out here?"

Nick paused. He turned his head to him. There was a storm in his eyes, something about them reminded him of his dad.

"Your dad's in the military, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "The Marines, why?"

"I used to be in the Navy."

Reuben sat up straighter, "Really?"

"Yeah, I was a Radar Intercept Officer, the backseater in a jet."

"Why did you quit?"

He couldn’t help but ask. There wasn't any memorabilia anywhere. It would explain why people called him Goose, and why his friends only came around every few months.

Nick looked down at his hands. He rubbed the tired skin of his hands as a bitter smile crept onto his face. An aeroplane flew overhead, he watched the trails as they dissipated into the clouds.

"I didn't quit," he said, a wistful tone to his voice. "I went to this elite training school called Top Gun, during one of the exercises something went wrong and we, me and my pilot, Pete, lost control of the jet. When I went to eject, I hit the canopy"

He looked at Reuben, as if questioning whether he should continue, "I broke my neck, cracked my skull, had to learn to walk again. And even though I got back in shape for the Navy, I still couldn't rejoin because my eyesight got worse and I ache too much some days."

Reuben did a double take. He couldn’t tell this had happened to him. There were no visible scars, he didn't seem in pain throughout the time he'd been here. The only visible difference he could see was that he wore thick rimmed glasses when doing anything technical.

"Is that why you became a foster parent?" He asked.

"It was the only thing I knew to do."

He paused for a second then spoke again, "I bet you're wondering what this has to do with anything."

He nodded.

"The whole point of me telling you that, and I didn't mean to scare you or make you think your dad's going to get hurt like that, is to tell you that I know with complete certainty that your dad wants nothing more than to be with you."

He turned to him and placed his hands on his shoulders, "If there was a way he could do his job and be with you and your mum, he would, I know I would've."

Tears sparked in his eyes. His dad had given him a picture of himself to remember him by, Reuben had creased it with how much he'd stroked it during the last few hard months.

"So, if you ever want to talk to someone about him, I'm right here," he smiled. "And Carole knows all about sick parents, so she's got a good ear for that."

"I know you want to go home, I get that, but while you can't, we want to help you feel as comfortable as possible here and help you with all this stuff you've been dealing with, okay?"

He nodded with a sniff. Tears began to roll down his face as all the anguish ran out of him.

"Do you want a hug?" Nick asked.

Reuben nodded again. If he spoke, he'd begin to sob uncontrollably and he was alright with the state he was in now.

Nick's arms wrapped around him in the perfect way. It wasn't quite like the hugs from his mum that she gave out readily, or the ones from his dad when he came home, but the warmth was still there.

I don't really have much to say about this. I think it's a well put together chapter, and I'm also starting to put more of the characters in other chapters. Mickey is in the Bradshaws long-term care, Reuben's in their short-term care. Thanks for reading!

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dejaentends · 2 years

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i’m writing a lily/sirius dual pov fic for the 5th year (canon compliant, yikes) focusing on exploring their relationships with their siblings (and also snape) as well as their trauma growing up during a war & having to let go of their families. I think ppl do not realize how much they have in common

it’s w/ jily and wolfstar (jily are bi4bi and not just in name) anyway here is some of it if y’all are interested, here’s a taste of their povs

Sirius and Regulus sat in the library, each sifting through a pile of books in order to decide which to bring to Hogwarts. Regulus had arrived first, so Sirius had taken a seat at his brother’s table. Smells of a delicious lunch wafted into the bright library, one of the only bright rooms in the house. The window’s dark velvet curtains pulled themselves back automatically at sunrise every day, the panes charmed to magnify the sunlight, which brought a greater shine to the dark mahogany bookcases. Though the chairs were wood (ornately carved with snakes, sliding through various symbolic flowers Sirius never memorised) they were charmed to be more comfortable than the plushest Muggle couch. It was Sirius’ favourite room. “Excited to go back?” Sirius asked, half joking. “I suppose. I do miss Crouch, he’s far more interesting than Dolohov and Mulciber.” Regulus made a face at the memories of all the time they were forced to spend with their parents' friend's children. Well, that Regulus was forced to spend with them. Sirius had ditched ever since being sorted into Gryffindor. Sometimes he looked fondly back on the games they’d all play together as children, Sirius always rigging them so he or Regulus won. When one of the sore losers accused him, he’d challenge them to a fight for their honour, brandishing his training wand like a sword. Regulus used to cheer him on. “Though it’s too bad we won’t be able to see each other until Christmas.” Sirius’ stomach twisted. He wasn’t really following through, right? “We—we can still meet, Reg, after curfew. I know ways to get out of the castle,” Sirius begged. “I don’t want to spend over three months only seeing you from across the Great Hall.” “I know ways, too, Sirius. You don’t have to treat me like a child to look after.” “So you will?” His little brother scoffed at the idiotic question. “No. I told you last year, I’m not doing that anymore.” A glare, the cold smirk passed down through the generations of the Black family. “Stop trying to force me. You’re just like mother.” His body went numb, an icy knife passed straight through his heart. The book Sirius had been holding hit the table with a soft thud. But feeling returned as the all-too familiar blazing heat of anger blossomed from the wound. There was no more rational discussion after that.

Lily stood in the doorway of her older sister’s bedroom, wringing her hands behind her back, digging her bare feet into the beige shag. Petunia sat at her vanity, various make-up organised into little slots, brushing through her long, blonde hair. Lily remembered when they used to brush each other’s hair, sitting in the living room watching morning cartoons. This past summer, in honour of turning eighteen, Petunia had removed all of the posters from her room, replacing them with framed, colour-coordinated, watercolour prints. The room still looked bare to Lily. “Will you write back this year, Tuney?” Petunia made eye contact with Lily through the mirror, light blue eyes always so much softer than Lily’s. At least to other people. “I’ve told you.” She paused for a put upon sigh, turning to look at Lily to deliver the final line. “I don’t know how to write with those… owls.” “You don’t have to, mum knows how—” “Lily. Why do you insist on making this harder than it needs to be?” The look on Petunia’s face, condescension masking real sadness, made Lily want to run up to Petunia and grab her, hug her, shake her. But Lily didn’t cross the threshold into her sister’s room. “I think you’re the one making it hard.” Lily’s voice was thick, already she was on the brink of tears. “Does crying get you whatever you want at that school? Because, well,” Petunia’s voice wavered. “That’s not how it works in the real world.” There was no more rational discussion after that.

#my loves #text #m #lily evans #sirius black #marauders #marauders fic

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