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avengersapology-vid · 3 years

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Avengers: College Edition

Steve: Criminal Justice and Studio Art double major. He doesn't want to torture himself with anything difficult and still wants to study what he loves. He is still an over achiever though. Highkey hates frat parties, saw someone twerking upside down and almost cried but stayed because hes the designated driver (responsible KING). prefers small get togethers with his friends. Roommates with sam and bucky!! Joins Criminal Justice club, jokingly rivals with Engineering (Tonys Club) Everyone on campus loves him including the professors, wins Homecoming king and is very happy. Sam jokingly asks to be his queen, Bucky butts in and says "NO, im his queen". Can be found in the library or art studio, usually with ink or pencil markings on his hands.

Tony: Obvi an engineering KING has physics as a minor. procrastinates to the max "No Bruce I have everything under control" *crams for 46 hours straight on a constant IV drip of Redbull and coffee* Super smart and helps draw the blueprint for the new engineering building. Roomies with Bruce! Tony was in a frat for a bit his freshmen year but hated it and wanted real friends (Throws better parties anyway) met Bruce and all the other avengers during a 1301 intro class. Pulls women like no tomorrow. On the presidents list every semester and tutors math for free on the side. He is basically the Dad in STEM. Tries hitting on Natasha but she is just like :/ nah, when her and bruce start dating tony is surprised because bruce is his "quiet little cinnamon roll." Tony constantly teases bruce and is like "yall fuckin (;" Steve butts in "tONY PLZ I JUST WANT TO WATCH THIS MOVIE" Bruce is thankful for steves intervention. You know how he rivals Steves Criminal Justice club? He butts heads with Business Clubs leader (Pepper) until everyone catches them together at a party. Has a caffeine addiction. Works out with Thor and Bucky one day in the rec and almost dies.

Bruce: Physics and Engineering double major (Hardworking KING) In math club with Vision and Wanda. He loves being roomies with Tony because it helps him out of his shell. Likes to draw with Steve sometimes and enjoys the quiet. Doesn't procrastinate and gets things done in a timely manor. 4.0 icon we all strive to be. Him and Nat already know each other, but bond and get a lot closer while studying in the library and they eventually start dating. He takes her coffee when she works across campus and is always almost late to class because of that (He doesn't care though bc thats his BABY) "Um.. Bruce your class is in 5 minutes" "Okay and?.....Wait I have an ex-" *Sprints to his building* Takes boxing at night with Thor, Bucky, Sam and Steve!!! Loves sparring with Thor and can surprisingly take the big buy on pretty well. Gets his butt kicked by Natasha in a MMA class though.

Natasha: Majors in Criminal Justice and Minors in Psychology. Ballet club AND MOCK TRIAL!! Has a Job at the Criminal Justice Deans office and takes MMA classes on the side. She is on Mock Trial with Loki and they actually get along quiet well once they stop butting heads about the case. Introduces Sam and Wanda to dance and they have so much fun. Coffee dates with Bruce!! Her and Steve become RAs in the following years and are the coolest RAs you know. Prefers night classes, Bruce walks her to all of them. Psychology classes are her favorite and really wants to help children one day. Volunteers at a daycare during breaks. Sis can really out drink Tony and Thor. Puts Wanda under her wing and helps her with fafsa and what not. Her and Bucky get the Russian language credit by simply testing out. Has her sh!t together and while she has a lot on her plate she can take it. She is really the Mom of the group. Can be found dancing or with Bruce. Her and Clint are icons in psychology classes.

Clint: Deaf Studies with education minor! (we stan deaf clint in the comics) In the Archery club and wins nationals for the Uni. Loves to draw with Steve. Helps Bruce ask Natasha out! PRANK ICON! loves to do prank wars with tony, bucky, loki and sam. Was in the same frat with Tony but hated it as well. While he seems to have a more reserved demeanor he is still the life of the party. (Like he knows people at the clubs ya know?) Can get in anywhere and helps everyone rent out a club for the night in celebration of midterms being over. Loves reading in the library and loves morning classes and being productive early in the day. Cracks Tonys netflix and hulu passwords (no tony... tonyr0cks69 is not good enough) Wants to teach at a school for the Deaf. Bruce sets him up with a girl from engineering and that is his future wife.

Thor: Physical Education major and Communications minor! Here on a football scholarship and is in a frat (not the asshole one tony was in) and is a partying ICON. Tries to get Loki to party but Loki just wants to drink wine with the cat he snuck into his dorm. Learns Sign from Clint to prepare for his career in education. Loves working out with Bucky, Sam and Steve. Takes up boxing during football off season and spars with Bruce. Despite being everyones fav himbo he gets really good grades and is a very good writer. Loki dorms across the hall from him. Thor actually rooms with Peter. Peter is the freshman baby and Thor takes peter under his wing and introduces him to everyone and helps him with college stuff in general. Also hooks him up with MJ and brings him to the occasional boxing session. Has a loud booming laughter you can hear in all floors of the library when he sees a funny meme. One time he actually makes a very good point and notices a flaw in one of Tony and Bruces projects leaves everyone stunned. Picks on Loki in big brother fashion. Unironically calls weed the devils lettuce.

Loki: Pre-Law and Criminal Justice. LOVES to argue. (Devils advocate ass) In Mock Trial and Criminal Justice Club. Tony jokingly calls him steves sexy secretary in CJ club. Loves Mock Trial and is the president with Nat as his right hand woman. Sneaks a cat he found at the shelter into his dorm and names it muffin. Stays in the Library writing or going over cases. The one time he was taking Natasha a copy of the Mock Trial case packet and caught her and bruce smooching. (He screeched) "Haha funny joke yall heres the case packet BYE." He automatically texts the group chat "i think nAT AND BRUCE HAVE SOME TEA FOR US HMM". Lets Peter and Bruce come over to his dorm because he knows their roommates can get a little too much sometimes. Loki also becomes an avid twitter user and thats how he gains popularity on campus. (He called the uni out for their awful and expensive parking) Was able to convince the Dean with tony and steve to create a new parking lot. Caffeine addict!!! Him and Tony always bump into each other at the coffee shop. Brings baked goods to meet ups with the gang. Loves to play pranks (especially on Tony) Him and Bucky come up with a genius prank on him and even get pepper involved. Best dressed on campus and is in the fashion club. He is the embodiment of dark academia.

Sam: Criminal Justice Major with Aerospace Engineering minor. Gets introduced to Bucky and Steve during move in and they literally become brothers. Is both in Criminal Justice Club and Engineering Club. In the Historically Black Frat on campus and takes huge pride in that. Parties with tony and thor BIG TIME. Procrastinates by throwing paper airplanes at Bucky until Bucky is like "Um...dude your paper is due in like two hours." At that moment Sam got into work faster than he ever had. Loves gossip sessions with Loki and Wanda. Works out a lot with Bucky, Steve and Thor to get rid of stress. When he and Bucky finish a final they go to loki's dorm and ask "Hey can we see your cat." Helps prep food for friends-giving and decorates the dorm for holidays. HATES 8ams so so so much. Steve promises him pancakes if he gets up and goes. Binge watches shows during weekends and screams when Destiel is finally canon. Loves running and gets a Track Scholarship when Thor gets him to join a sport. Gets Peter to join track.

Bucky: criminal justice major and psychology minor. Buck is also in ballet club with Nat, it really helps him relax and gives him a free space to think (also he runs that shit like no ones business) Criminal justice club as well and LOVES to work out and box. One time Sam accompanies him to ballet and Bucky pushes Sam into a split... the scream was heard for miles. "Sam ballet is good for athletes it helps w-" "Yeah but its not good for my balls" Doesn't willingly procrastinate but once in awhile he will forget an assignment, you best believe his eyes will snap open from his nap and get to work asap. For one of his psyche labs he had to question Steve as if he were Steve's therapist to which Steve responds "Hey bro you dont have to hit a nerve that deep" He also likes to do dance with peter since it helps him get away from Thor for a bit. Not a big partier but once the weight of finals are off his chest you best believe he will go all out. Picks on Nat and says hes gonna steal her man, to which tony interjects and says "Not if I do first" Bucky also has a very comfy dorm, comfy lighting and tons of pillows, the man loves his sleep... and so does everyone else. Sometimes he finds peter, sam, THOR, tONY EVERYONE just napping in his bed before their study time. Overall, bucky is a smart boy and his time in college is kind to him.

Wanda: English Major and Education Minor. After being an orphan Wanda knows what it feels like to not have a parental figure there and she wants to change that for other kids by becoming an english teacher. She volunteers at an orphanage, specifically the one her and pietro were in for a brief moment when they came to the states. She loves to draw as well and takes plenty of art classes with steve. She paints a portrait of the entire gang and gives it to tony as a graduation present (he cried). She loves to do volunteer work for children and also spend a lot of time in the library, She helped Nat calm down before Bruce asked her out. Her and Loki are in constant competition for best dressed. "Loki ill let you win best dressed but you have to let me see your cat" "ugh fine... btw your shirt doesnt match your boots" "hEY" Her and Peter take alot of intro classes together and are constantly running around craft stores trying to get the right stuff for projects. Visits Vision at his Job on Campus and he visits her where she volunteers and eventually they start dating. She is constantly getting visited by pietro at 4am asking "Um do you have milk" "Pietro its 4am what do you ne-" "my OREOS"

Pietro: Track star business major, frat ICON with Thor. poor boy is STRESSED he hates college and is here on a track scholarship, constantly late and running around getting shit done. Queen of late assignments but still gets them graded because he is in Track. Yeah he has alot on his plate but he still parties with thor for hours. When he is drowning in assignments Clint is always there to help him, Bruce also helps him with biology and the more science-y classes. Likes to mess around and race sam at track practice. Not into coffee but will run on all the monster energy drinks you could possibly buy. Seriously is tired of 8 a.m courses, he just wants to nap after practice. Walks into the study room that everyone was in and actually looks more sleep deprived than tony. He gets a lot of tips from steve on how to have an easier time in college and it really helps him.

Vision: Grad student working on a civil engineering masters and a TA. Meets Wanda in the library and she asks him where the biographies are. He mistakenly says they are on the 2nd floor "Uh theyre actually on the third" "Then why did you ask?" "Cause I wanted to talk to you :)" He swooned. Through Wanda he met Tony and Bruce and became their best friend, He helped out a lot with engineering club and got them far. He spends a lot of time doing research for his masters degree, he loves relaxing with the group on weekends and picks on pietro as if he is already apart of the family. Him and Loki bond over intellectual conversations from time to time. Bruce and Nat go on double dates with him and Wanda. Went to a bar once with tony and bruce and had to stop tony from singing Queens entire discography, he had the best night that night. Helps everyone with getting into jobs and into grad school in general while everyone helps him let loose and have some fun.

Peter: Peter is a Physics major and eventually works his way up to biochemistry. (hardworking icon) He is the freshman baby of the group and is introduced to them through Thor. He dances with Buck and Nat sometimes as well. Tony obviously takes peter under his wing and helps him with assignments. One time everyone was in the same study room and him and pietro have a redbull shot gunning challenge. When Peter wins Thor picks him up and almost yeets the poor boy into the ceiling. "VERY WELL DONE YOUNG PARKER YOU SHOULD BE DOING THAT WITH BEER IN NO TIME." "Thor plz" Tony and Thor help him ask MJ out and even spy on them during a dinner date. (Imagine thor with sunglasses and a scarf around his head pretending to be tonys date) He feels so accepted in college because of the gang and gets all his work done on time. Goes out of his way to get everyone christmas presents and is so excited for friendsgiving. Becomes a little stressball during finals and midterms and stays in the library till it closes. He spots loki alot in there and helps loki with science classes while loki helps him with political science classes. He meets MJ through wanda and is obviously blushing the whole time while being introduced. Gets embarrassed when the guys flirt with aunt may. "guys plz stop" This is when Sam earns his "milf hunter" nickname. "Pete hows your aunt?" "She doesnt want you sam i-" its not like that... actually it is like that"

Coulson: Alumni Icon. Is the gangs Intro professor and is the reason why everyone meets eachother. (the class was chaotic indeed) Coulson loved that class so much and he still gets visited by everyone from time to time. He is obviously close with Nick. They were there that night when Tony was signing Queen at the bar and couldnt help but laugh.

Nick Fury: Dean for criminal justice and is heavily involved with criminal justice club and mock trial. He is tired of everyones shit as always. Makes a tiktok account for the criminal justice club and has no idea how to manage social media so gets Loki to help. Has to delete it when Loki commented "hah losers" on the engineering tiktoks page. He looks intimidating but in his office he has a picture with the club and has all the gifts he gets on display. (He even framed lokis comment because it was hilarious afterall)

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withoneheadlight · 3 years

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The kitchen’s Steve’s favorite part of the house.

It has this odd shape. Trapezoid. “Fuck, Stevie, so goddamn weird”. Doesn’t make sense in a, on the other hand, perfectly rectangular house (or, well, it does but, they’ll only find out about that later). The cabinets are ceiling-high. The tiles of the wall white and cracked under the repeating pattern of light mint-green-stemmed, yellow-petaled lilies. The whole backdoor is painted on that same shade Billy calls Ripe banana dreams, both so terribly old-fashioned and fiercely cute none of them says a word about repainting it. There’s a wooden piece, built into the farthest end of the counter. It looks disgustingly juicy and mercilessly stabbed when they move in, but Billy insists on keeping it, and sanding, and treating, and varnishing it. Manages to get it back up on shape because “Better than anyone, darling you should know what a little touch of class can make”. And for more than two weeks straight the only goal of his life is to learn to cut vegetables at high speed because “I have to live up to this level of professionalism. Impress our most un-impressionable guests”

(And, to Steve’s surprise –and probably hers– when she finally deigns to pay them a visit, his mom is, in fact, pretty much impressed.)

He learns how to make good casserole. Tries his luck with Mexican and Italian. Fails miserably with Japanese. Will never-ever admit it but, he loves it when flour ends up staining every single surface, making the biggest mess around himself when he bakes. Steve knows why it is. It’s a shared feeling. Floats up till it reaches the ceiling and bounces back down to them, heavy with the warm smell of cooking pie and cinnamon. Tastes docile and tamed like “Maybe not so much vanilla next time. Whaddaya think, babe?.” Tastes savage and daring, like the overwhelming tang of freshly squeezed lemon lingering on Billy’s tongue, when he crowds Steve against the fridge and kisses him, nibbles a shuddering laugh out of him “How the fuck are you able to even think about putting your mouth near that thing, Hargrove?. That was––ugh. That was disgusting”, “Well you know me, whatever it takes to make you squirm” leaving Steve with absolutely no option but lick the sugary dough stain over his cheek to “Cover up that foul flavor” and maybe because he wants to make Billy squirm a little too.

It’s a heart-warming, welcoming feeling. Like the vivid smells of green tomatoes and parsley and mustard sauce. Like the taste of love on Billy’s lips. The way he loses his breath when Steve kisses the sugary flavor into Billy’s mouth with his:

This place smells like home, tastes like home. Like finally, finally. Home.

It’s Billy’s favorite place, too. But Steve doesn’t think it’s just because of that. But also because maybe,

maybe.

He has also noticed that–

There’s this particular, particular moment. It happens around seven on autumns, right when the day starts to fade. It happens between six and six past twenty-eight on winters, and holds the sleepy cheeks of the newborn tulips on Steve’s garden till they fall asleep on springs, sun already sinking behind the horizon by the time both hands of the clock meet over the spiral of the eight, pointing towards infinity. And then grows bigger and bigger and bigger from there, flooding into summer: the golden sunlight seeping through the wide, double-paned window facing the backyard in an oblique angle, making the yellow flowers of the tiles look like they’re re-blooming in gold.

It’s the moment the day turns into a fire.

It’s their favorite moment in time. And in this particular, particular day of July, it happens at ten past nine.

Billy is making Spaghetti Carbonara. The kitchen is damp with the rich smells coming out of the boiling water. Mushrooms and oregano, black pepper and lime. A song is cooing at them from the radio, the beat of the drums a boneless memory of that one echoing around the quarry on faraway almost-night on a faraway July. Water rippling under the quiet sigh of the breeze. Trees cutting the liquid rays in asymmetric halves.

Billy takes off the apron. Turns the stove down.

Reaches out to Steve, fingers wavering come, come, come.

To me. Come to me. “C’mon, Harrington. Do I scare you or what?“

He has this way of looking at Steve that makes the space between them narrow, narrow: the whole unknown world. And aseptic, non-lived-in flat in downtown Florida. This tiny, tiny town. A mysteriously-shaped kitchen––

“¿Can I have this dance?”

Steve walks to him, takes his hand.

––Their bodies, pressed flush.

Inside his chest, Steve’s heart is running.

(“Can I at least have this dance, before we say goodbye?”

Mazzy Star was playing. The corner of Billy’s eye felt wet where his skin brushed against the corner of Steve’s mouth. They danced till the daylight faded, till there were teardrops falling from the night sky.

“Billy, I don’t have to––”

“Don’t, pretty boy. Don’t say it. I’ll make you stay if you do. And I can’t do that”)

They made lovelovelove on the back of Billy’s car.)

In this light, they fell in love, they fell apart. Ran away. Ran back.

Steve nudges at Billy’s chest, makes him move backward till he’s far enough to tug, draw him in between their tangled arms, hands intertwined. Steve curls himself around Billy’s back, noses at the warmth trapped between his curls. He smells like BillyandSteve, like this home, like past, like future. Like us.

Steve whispers in his ear. Three words. Billy’s neck curves towards him. An instinct. Tickled by their warmth. Steve kisses the curve of his ear. Tugs the collar of his shirt aside, bites where shoulder meets neck and up, up.

“Easy, Prom King” Billy teases, grins at him tender and wild. Knows when to use the one that gets Steve every time “Or you’re gonna make me think we’ll become picture-perfect from this magical moment onwards. A bunch of kids. White fences. You know, the whole shebang”��

(Billy crashed the Camaro into a tree in the winter of two thousand and fourteen. Had left the house in a frenzy. Something happened Max wouldn’t talk about. But she was scared, so she had called,

“Find him. Please.. Make sure he’s alright”

When Steve found him, Billy was in the middle of the Brookville road, feet stumbling on the twin yellow lines, following them nowhere. So weary, so impossibly small like this: head hanging, arms wrapped around himself. A crooked shape, carrying the weight of the shadows the tall pine trees cast on his back.

So unlike him.

Steve stopped the car at his side, engine oozing steam, shaking in the icy mid-May air “Billy” he said. Low. Careful. Careful. Billy’s eyes looked wet in the moon-silver night, pupils blown, deceivingly calm, “What are you doing? This is dangerous” And Billy’s spine had bent even lower, forearms finding rest on the window frame. Leveling with Steve. Looking wasted, looking tired, but still, he flashed a grin at him, teeth-shark white, never going down if he wasn’t going down swinging. And Steve–– hadn’t known at the moment, but the blood staining his cheek, the screaming-purple mark around his eye.

Those weren’t from the crash.

“I was sleepwalking, Harrington” he said, voice dry, laugh harsh. Shrugged “Waiting for a lucky strike”)

“What does it make you think that’s not what I’m aiming for?”

(When he took Billy to his house Max was already there. Had sneaked out. “Neil will kill you if he finds out,” Billy said and she nodded, white knuckles peaking red with how hard she was gripping the handler of her bike, and Steve hadn’t seen her cry before, not ever, but her eyes were swollen and wet and,

“Are you––”

“I’m alright, kiddo. You know me. I’m always alright”

And the lie sat heavy, between them. Two lies, covering the truth. Poorly stitched. But Max had called Steve for help, so that’s what he did. Help. Sent her back home. Took care of Billy’s face. Billy’s hands. Nodded at those same lies, let them do their work while taking care of wounds he didn’t know, back then, couldn't have been for a crash. Made him spend the night.

Billy still hadn't woken up when Steve left the next day, leaving food and a note on the nightstand ‘I’ll be back soon. Stay’.

Retraced Billy’s steps down the yellow lines splitting the forest in half. To find it.

The Camaro wasn’t done yet. Howled like a wounded beast under Steve’s touch, but stayed together all the way to Donny’s garage. And Steve paid for the repairs. Covered it all up. Max has said “His dad can’t know, Steve. Can’t know. If he finds out he will--” and steve was starting to put two and two together. To realize some billy was, maybe, running away from something. Someone. When he crashed his car.

Woke Billy up when the hands of the clock met over the spiraling infinity of the eight. Seventeen hours straight of sleep and still looking like he could use a lifetime. Told him “The car will be ready in two or three days. ‘Til then, you stay'' covered his mouth with his hand. Didn't let him complain “And If whatever happened last night happens again, you take it and you run. Back here. And you stay again, ok?”

Two weeks later, Billy showed up at his door. Lit him a cigarette. Offered to teach him how to fight.

“I cannot give you back your money, but I know you don’t need that”

Made him laugh.

They spent almost the whole summer together, after that. Some days. Most nights.

Wasting time. Fighting. Joking. Driving.

Falling.

No ‘what ifs’. No promises. Just,

“Leave the light on if you can’t sleep, pretty boy. If I manage to sneak out of the Old fuck, I’ll pick you up. Promise I won’t stop kissing you until dawn. Gotta make up for what you paid for that ca, uh?”

Because Steve was gonna leave. Wasn’t gonna throw a single glance behind his back.

That was the plan.

And he did. He did. But––)

He spins Billy out. Tugs him back. When their chests bump, his laugh bursts, bubbles up. Weightless. Happy. Because all that matters to him, to them, it’s between these four irregular walls now.

And God this, this, is Steve’s favorite part.

(–ended up coming back running, hoping the love would re-stitch itself as he followed the road’s yellow lines.

Hoping Billy was the one letting his light on this time.)

Because the sun’s gonna keep on shining. They can keep on dancing in here, in their weird trapezoidal kitchen (in their house, in their home), for as long as they want. Hearts touching. Lips brushing. Bodies swaying, spinning, cutting through the golden light.

#harringrove #and #this is the end #!!#i know is not too goo but i'm happy i finished #it #and also #i wanted to have something for this #1 year anniversary so :D #thank you again fandom #i wouldn't have make it this far without you #also! ns*w anon. i don't know if your're still around but #i published this part for you long ago #and it my head its now for you so <3 #xharringrove #xfluffy

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razorblade180 · 3 years

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Twin Snowflakes 26: Preparation

[part 1 of 2]

TSF pt25 here! <-

“THANK YOU, PEOPLE OF MANTLE!” Summer yelled, shredding each note of her personal favorite songs. One after another she played to her heart's fill. Each song was more aggressive and brimming with vigor than the last. Summer would’ve played till dawn if she had her way but neither her body or promise to her brother would allow that. It wasn’t time to leave yet but she needed a break.

Summer begrudgingly got herself to get off the stage to let others perform. Their music wasn’t terrible by any means but the other musicians could easily stand to have more practice. A rave audience isn’t hard to please however, so the crowd ate up the talent all the same. A little insulting to her own performance but eh, this wasn’t an actual contest. Summer was happy enough blowing off steam and listening to the beats from behind the stage. Not even she could deny the beats and tempo. Her hips couldn’t help but sway!

From the corner of her eye she could make out a familiar figure keeping an eye on her. “Did Nick tell you to keep an eye on me, Eliza?”

“Not really.” She walked over and poured herself a cup of water. “I was training in the area.”

“Are you saying he had nothing to do with you being here?”

“Oh no, that would be a lie. You know Nick, always negotiating. He really knows how to persuade a person. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could sell a heater to someone living in Vacou. Anyways, he didn’t ask me to stalk you or anything like that. He knew where I’d be and told me if I could swing by for a spell. No harm in that.”

Summer smiled. “Funny. That sounded like you were defending him. Don’t want me getting upset with my own brother?”

“Shut up. It would be a pain if I caused unnecessary controversy in a household. Need I remind you that you both have duties to the school that require your full attention? Frankly I’m glad I arrived. I don’t go to your concerts so my opinion of your performance skills was limited.” Eliza sipped her water, giving Summer’s attire and overall attitude a once over. “Where’s all this when you're getting harassed in the halls?”

“That’s...school is different.”

“Pfft, yeah okay.”

“It is!” Summer said, defensively crossing her arms.

Eliza watched the girl's face soften into the meek and reserved Summer she was used to. To think that’s all it took to shut her down. “I swear you and your brother don’t have a consistent bone in your body. Whatever the case, I don’t really care much as long as you bring your best effort to rehearsal and the live performance.”

Summer squinted. “Not the actual tournament?”

“Hey I don’t participate in the duos. You can bomb that for all I care. But you know, Nick is counting on you to pull your weight. Also it would be pretty annoying if you lost to Max and his asshole know-it-all, Darren. Gods know he’d talk about it until graduation.”

“Was the fight that happened in the school bad?”

Eliza shrugged, “Can’t say. Wasn’t there. He’s always been a thorn to me though so I don’t doubt he made things ugly. He was very rude to Veronica in the principal’s office as well. An act I find inexcusable.”

Summer couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Look I know you admire her and all that jazz, but I’d bet she didn’t help the situation.”

“My views on her have nothing to do with it!” Eliza huffed. “I would think you off people would be sympathetic to a person like her.”

Summer leaned against a wall. “Call me jaded, but Veronica has a habit of bringing out the worst in people.”

Eliza frowned. “You know her better than I. Tell me, is she the type to lie about being harassed?”

Summer didn’t have to think long, especially after learning more about her in the forest. Then there was Veronica’s sketch journal. Summer still couldn’t make sense of all the scratched out pages. On top of that, Blake’s request made Summer even more uncertain. “No. Veronica’s a piece of work, but she isn’t a liar. She might actually be too honest if you asked me. I’ve never had to deal with Darren personally but Nick’s not a fan by any means.” Summer bit her bottom lip. She couldn’t believe it, did she just defend Veronica’s qualities!? It was only fair. Veronica did almost end up a frozen husk.

“Well it’s good to know we can all agree on at least one thing without fail. So not to rush you but how long are you planning on staying in a place like this?” Eliza asked, watching all the party animals.

“Haha, not your type of crowd?”

“The crowd is fine. I can handle a little noise and rowdiness, but it is technically a school night. I- ah! Summer!?” The girl had taken Eliza by the hand and started pulling her to the dance floor.

“If you keep bringing up assignments 24/7 then all you’re gonna look like is a stick in the mud. Live a little. School sucks!”

“School is important!” Eliza protested.

Summer grabbed Eliza’s other hand and started making them sway side to side, back and forth. The blood rushing to Eliza’s cheeks made Summer giggle. “Awww you know you dig it. I’ll make a deal. Cut loose with me for a few songs and I’ll gladly let you dance me right out the front door. Show me that colorguard rhythm!”

Eliza watched the petite girl actively laugh without reservation. Summer jokingly shimmied towards her and swayed her hips, getting lost in the music. Just how much did this girl go out to rave? She looked like she belonged here! The beat got more intense by the moment with no sign of stopping. With her pride in check, Eliza began to sway steadily, getting into the music.

Summer’s eyes lit up. “Aye!”

“Two songs and then we’re out of here.”

“Works for me! Show me what ya got!” Summer turned up the heat by dragging Eliza deeper into the chaos. She might not be as persuasive as Nick, but Eliza quickly found out Summer was definitely more pushy. Forget the tournament. Eliza was beginning to think they’ll beat her at everything!

xxxxx

“This is crazy. How did I not know about this!?” Nick said, walking down the rainy sidewalk.

Veronica smirked as she held Nick’s hand, allowing rain to pass right through them. “Why would you? I barely have any reason to use my semblance; let alone in the more complex ways.”

“You don’t use it when making clothes?”

“Haha, I’m not entirely sure how it would help. Unless I wanna get out of my clothes and into something new in an instant. Not a real trick to show others. Unless…” she blushed at her lewd teasing, refusing to finish the punchline. “Never mind.”

“Okay?” He had a feeling he knew where that was going but chose not to pull that grenade pin. “Speaking of clothes, that brings up a question. Why aren’t our clothes falling off now?”

“Control. Anything I touch can phase like me. My clothes are touching me, so are you. I can keep it strictly to myself though with control and timing. I can also start it and end it on any spot on my body; which is why we aren’t falling through the street.”

“That sounds hard.”

“Little bit. Really flexing my semblance like a muscle right now. Still, I’ve done harder, like not breaking surface tension.”

Nick did a double take. Did he hear that right? “Surface tension? Like...for water?”

Veronica nodded. “Yeah that’s the one. Well I’m not actually walking on water. It’s more of me beginning to fall through the water with my semblance, and shutting it off quick enough to push me back up just above the surface. Took a lot of practice but I got it most of the time. Waves suck.”

“Don’t you burn through your aura quickly?”

“Well it’s like flicking a switch on and off. Also I’m quick about it; not to mention not fighting anything in the water. I’m bound to fuck up them.”

“Still sounds like an extremely large amount of work and multitasking. You got real talent. I’d get a headache.”

“Says the king of multitasking.” Veronica chuckled, “It’s less thinking and more of reaction; knowing how to feel the shifts to the things connecting you.”

Her explanation was interesting. Veronica had an understanding of her semblance to a complex level though she didn’t fight. And here was Nick, struggling with a candle exercise for a semblance that didn’t interact with physics or molecules. “A reaction huh? Maybe I should try that more often? It might help with-”

“Valerie.”

“What? No my-” His hand was squeezed a little before being brought up to point towards the Schnee gate. Nick’s eyes went wide. Valerie stood by it with her mother’s car, staring just as surprised. “Oh…” Nick said.

The three stood quietly, not prepared in the slightest. Valerie was the most shocked. She was prepared for an awkward conversation with Nick by the door. Not catching him outside in a suit; next to Veronica. Nora, who was in the car, wanted to take initiative but found her lips tucking themselves in.

“Oh boy. Maybe convincing Val to see him was a bad move on my part.” She thought. Ren was gonna have a field day whenever Nora got back home.

Done with the shock, Veronica finally spoke. “Umm I can give you two a minute, if you need it?” All the events that happened tonight made her feel very pleased. Veronica did not want to taint those moments and knew it would be for the best to remove herself from this before she said anything...emotional. She turned to Nick and smiled awkwardly. “I’ll see you inside?”

Nick could only blink while he thought about it. Veronica was a bit quicker to the draw though. “No, no, it’s...clearly you two are in the middle of something. I was just leaving anyways” Val said, a hint of irritation and even a bit of sarcasm crept into her voice. It might not have been that big of a deal but for some reason it made Nick tense up.

“This is only happening because of you.” He said instinctively, catching everyone off guard. “I don’t see how you can be upset about a thing you caused. I did invite you originally.”

“Don’t see how that has to do with anything.” Valerie lied, clearly offended. “You can do what you want.I only came here to-”

“It’s always your terms.” He interjected, grumbling a bit. “You tell me you want space and we’ll see each other at the tournament, but then show when you feel like talking. If I did that you’d be pissed.”

“Hey! I came here to try and smooth things over.”

“Yeah well maybe I don’t want things smoothed over right now? I...I have nothing to say to you right now. We’ll talk at the tournament.”

Valerie let out a subtle gasp. Her brows furrowed and she bit down on her lip harder than she meant to. “Forget it. If you wanna be made then be made. Tournament it is.” Valerie didn’t waste another breath, getting back into the car so it can drive off.”

Veronica was in disbelief. Did that really just happen? In now way did she think the conversation was going to be good, but she at least thought there was going to be one. She might’ve thought this best if it wasn’t for Nick visibly sulking next to her as he started walking her up to the manor. The solemn look on his face did nothing but make her feel bad. Not to mention a little guilty.

“Hey...I know this is a dumb question but are you okay? If I influenced that in any way during dinner, that wasn’t really...what I mean is...”

“I know, and don’t worry. That wasn’t me being caught up in my emotions. I just really want to think about all of this for at least a couple days. Besides, I made a deal with Eliza. I might not keep it if Valerie tries patching things up.”

“You’re plotting on her? That’s...wow. Now I know for sure that you’re pissed.”

Nick rubber the back of neck. “For once I think I’ll get greedy, act the way I want. Does that make sense?”

“Make sense? It’s my language. Fair warning, your best quality is that heart of yours.” She poked his chest. “Keep it safe, or I’ll be the one getting greedy by knocking the optimism back into ya.”

“Oh is that right? Haha, maybe try praying to me first, then I really know you must mean business!” He teases.

Veronica gave a playful shove. “Like I’d know how to start one? I think I’ll stick with the tough love approach.”

“Tough love huh?” Nick opened the front door. His eyes never left the girl as she walked in, seemingly content. Veronica eventually looked back at him and gave a head tilt.

She blinked, “What?”

“Nothing.” He chuckled. Nick was starting to think that just maybe, he understood Veronica’s choices and beliefs a little more than he used to. If he learned anything from tonight it was just how differently they saw the world around them. “Well I guess this is the end of our date. Didn’t go as planned but I’ll admit it, I really liked spending alone time with you.” He said, rubbing the back of his head.

Veronica couldn’t stop herself from letting out an anxious chuckle.“Hehehe, what’s with the sweet talk all of a sudden? Trying to butter me up?”

“No, just being honest with myself. A date should end as well as possible.” Nick stepped towards Veronica and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Eager to not let this moment linger, Nick swiftly left for Summer’s room to see if she was back. Without thinking about it tonight, Nick had left two girls red and speechless. One of them standing in the main hall with a smile growing wide; while the other watched the rain fall during a quiet ride home, frustrated and jaw clenched.

Nora took care to drive slowly. Getting home quickly would only mean Valerie would march to her room. Nora let out a sigh. “Whether it’s me or your father, one of us is gonna make you talk about this. So-”

“What’s there to talk about? I’m upset and he’s upset, because we want different things. So we’re taking a break. Simple as that.” Valerie leaned against the cold glass.

“And what is it exactly that you want?” Nora asked. She was given no answer. Not that she was expecting one. “I love you, but if you don’t know the answer yourself then how can you expect Nick to not upset you? Life is like any sport you play. Gotta know the rules if you wanna do well. Only way to figure that out is knowing yourself.”

“I know myself pretty well.” Valerie huffed.

“Really?” Nora dragged out. “So tell me, do you like Nick, romantically?”

“No.” She said instinctively.

If Val could see Nora’s face then she would’ve been upset that she was rolling her eyes, not believing her daughter. “Okay, but just so you know, taking a break is not what most friends say about another.”

Valerie’s eyes widened. She turned to her mother to see her focused on the road like she hadn’t said a word. Val went back to looking at the window. “Good to know.” Valerie controlled the urge to huff. Talking to Ren might’ve been less painful.

xxxx

Nick walked into Summer’s room to find it sisterless and a little cold. “Guess she’s not home yet.” He closed the door behind him as he went further in. Nick made sure to keep the light off but turned on the heater. A cold room was the last thing this night needed. His chill hadn’t kicked in all this time so Nick had no real reason to worry about Shiva, yet his nerves would feel better actually seeing Summer come home safely. Pulling up a chair to sit in may have been a bit much but he did it anyway. Overbearing or not, Shiva would never be a subject he’d take lightly. Not like he had in the past when he was younger, naive of the danger that thing had. He could his body ache at the thought of it. Pain fades and the body heals, but it also remembers. Not like he needed a reminder. Not when the memories rear their ugliness often in his dreams.

A scroll rang loudly, bringing Nick out of the dark thoughts. He reached in his pocket to see it was in fact Summer who was calling.He wasted no time answering. “Where are you? I thought you’d be back by now?”

“That didn’t sound like hello.” Summer grumbled. “Relax, I'm close by. I actually called to ask for a favor. You’re home right?”

“Yes?”

“Cool. Can you open my window?

Nick walked over to her window and opened it. In the distance he could spot his sister and Eliza outside the gate from the right side. “Done. What-”

“How’d you do that so fast? Were you already in my room!? You aren’t snooping are you!?” She yelled.

“Quiet before you get caught. No, I wasn’t snooping. Pretty sure whatever secrets this room holds is one that would scar me. Though I’m curious about your journal, wherever you hid this time. Perhap under your nightstand?”

“Do you really want to rummage around a young woman's nightstand?” Summer could hear her brother let out an overtop gagging noise. “Grow up.”

“Say it to my face. You better hurry before I decide to close this and watch you hit the glass like a pigeon.”

“Fine, ya baby.” Summer hung up. “Thanks for walking me home, as well as helping me stay dry.” She looked up to see the small dome of water floating over her from Eliza’s magic.

“Exactly what was the plan if I had said no or not shown up at all?”

“Glyphs aren’t just for platforming and dust ya know? Not that it matters. I knew I’d see you tonight.”

Eliza scoffed, “Tah! That confident in your predictions about your brother?”

“Well yes, but that’s not it. It’s not a secret you practice at the pier. It’s also terrible luck on your part you almost shot a captain with a bolt of lightning. One time.”

“W-What!? B-but how would-”

“Is it a Marigold thing to be attracted to my family like a magnet? That captain is my cousin. He says your aim could use work. Bye!” Summer made glyphs to trampoline over the gate and platform through the air and through her window.”

Eliza couldn’t believe it. Why was this her life!? It had to be a joke. Atlas or Mantle, you’re bound to be in Schnee territory. It would’ve been fine if she wasn’t practicing moves to fight one! Now she needed a new training spot. Who knows what they might now. “Damnit, now Nick’s offer is even more to my best interest!”

“Sup bro. How was your date?” The rock n’ roll twin kicked off her shoes and took the black wig off before falling backwards onto her bed.

“Well Valerie was at the front awhile ago.”

Summer sat up. “Okay, that’s not what I expected. Did I miss a fight? No wait, I’m pretty sure I’d hear Veronica scream bloody murder because there’s no way her dress would stay flaw-” her rambling was cut short when Nick suddenly sat beside her and fell on her lap. “Woah. Hey, are you still sick!?”

“No, just tired. The past week has been a little...draining. To be honest I don’t think I even have the energy to shower right now.”

“Well you probably smell better than me right now so I’m not complaining.”

“How was the rave?”

“Fun. Got Eliza to dance a little. The crowd worshipped my performance.” She chuckled.

“What did you sing?”

“Nothing special. A few Linkin Park songs; an experimental original. Oscar thought it would be a good idea to take a few of my journal entries and vent it out through music.”

“Hmm, anything you’ll share to your actual fan base, or me?”

Summer looked at her ceiling to let out a composed sigh. “I don’t think I’m quite ready, or the song for that matter. It and myself are...a work in progress. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just know your fans think you can’t do wrong and there’s no world where I won’t support you. Family and all that.”

“Love you too.” Summer patted his head. “Sorry if I’ve been causing you trouble. Well, more than usual. Tomorrow is a new day.”

“That’s the spirit. Push yourself but not too hard. That’s my territory. Speaking of which, I’ve been racking my brain with ideas. You can talk to Shiva in that headspace whenever you like right?” He felt her hand stop. Nick looked up to see Summer look apprehensive.

“I can...but it’s not a thing I look to do. Plus tonight has been good. I really don’t want that to-”

“Summer, do you trust me?”

Nick’s words were calm and real. Summer didn’t know what he had in mind. It wasn’t like Nick to invite danger. Her eyes looked to the floor to the orange glow of her heater. Like usual it appeared that her brother had already taken strides for her and everyone’s sake. Just how far would he go, ever making herself feel like she’s at a stand still? Maybe tomorrow could start today. Just a little bit.

“What’s this idea of yours?” She said cautiously.

“Nothing too crazy. You’re just gonna take a page out of Veronica’s playbook.”

xxxxx

You would think a person would know what goes on in their head. Unfortunately, that’s hardly ever the case. Summer never got a full understanding of what went on upstairs in her mind. Then again that would only make sense. She was in therapy after all. Though no amount of emotional talking could explain why her headspace imagery was inconsistent at times. A void of nothingness, her own room, those were the usual shapes that took place. However, this time she found herself back at the frozen lake. Going back and triggering an episode must’ve left a lasting impression. At least her trauma brought variety. The only separation from the real place was the ice ceiling and a distinct lack of cold nipping at her skin. Her psyche though, it was definitely feeling something.

She began walking through the white hell of her own making until she found her target, Shiva. The being was skating across the lake like how Summer once did. “Shiva.” Summer called out.

The woman of ice and snow looked over, surprised. She stopped right in the middle of the lake. “Well, well, well, come to properly thank me? You’d be in a grimm’s stomach by now if it wasn’t for me. You and that idiot girl. Tell me, is she in pain from our encounter?”

“I’m not here to thank you or chitchat.” Summer bluntly stated. “This is an in and out thing.”

“I’ll take that as a no then? Pity. I wouldn’t mind seeing her cry and despair. I bet her tears are uglier than yours. Though I'll say that this look you have going on isn’t gross. Honestly it helps to see you better in this place. You’re always so pale when you’re talking to me. Afraid I might hurt you?” A smirk spread across her face. “Oh I do hate you so.”

“Feeling is mutual. I came here to tell you that from this point on things are gonna change.”

“Pfft, heard that before. You’re all talk.”

“Am I?” Summer reached her hand out. Right before her eyes, the shape of a shovel formed. Hiding her surprise, she focused on Shiva’s own shock. “My mind, my rules. If I can subconsciously make this hell then I can shape it to an extent. Summer tossed the shovel at Shiva for her to catch. “Keep that safe for me.” Summer’s body began to slowly fade from this space.

“And what exactly is this for?”

“Your grave. Feel free to dig it yourself.” Her final words before disappearing completely while witnessing a smug smirk vanish before her eyes. Right as she faded, Summer could hear one last remark.

“We’ll see who buries who.”

Summer opened her eyes to find herself back in her room. Good, she hadn’t moved an inch. “Well I’ve thoroughly pissed her off, but it actually felt good to be the one harassing her. Thank Ni- huh?” Summer failed to realize she’s been talking to herself. Nick was fast asleep already! “Unbelievable. What if I would’ve messed up?”

“Zzzzzz.”

“Quite the convincing answer.” Summer returned to rubbing his head. He felt a little warm but nothing serious. Taking breaks needed to be at the top of his list from now on. Only way that would happen is if things weren’t hectic. It was time to step up. “I’ll do right by you. I promise. Just...give me a little more time.”

Her eyes became heavy. It appears the day’s events weighed on her more than she realized. Both twins fell into slumber there for the entire night, finally getting some rest.

#rwby #rwby twin snowflakes #summer schnee #val valkyrie #nora valkyrie #eliza marigold #veronica belladonna #nicholas schnee

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babysizedfics · 4 years

Text

Little Accidents, Big Developments

Chapter 8: Sink and Float

[This is an age regression story]

Chapter Summary: Roman is anxious, Virgil has some compelling things to say, Logan deduces Virgil’s true regression age, Patton gets emotional, and we say good-bye.

Chapter word count: 11,750

Other chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / bonus

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

Content warning: Light angst, but cuteness galore to make up for it.

oOo

‘All right, little prince. What should I write here?’

‘His coolness rating,’ Roman replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. His tongue stuck out slightly as he concentrated on his drawing; a picture of Kanga on the top half of a small piece of paper. Underneath the character were five rectangles, all coloured to varying levels of completion.

‘Of course,’ Patton said, nodding solemnly as he wrote “coolness” underneath the fifth rectangle on his own piece of paper. ‘And I’m guessing Tigger’s coolness rating is -’

‘Ten.’

‘Ten. Obviously,’ Patton giggled. He picked up the red crayon from the dining room table and coloured the final rectangle to completion. Just like the four rectangles above it. They signified Tigger’s bounciness, funniness, orangeness, and Roman’s seal of approval ratings, all maxed out. ‘I’m starting to think this card might be rigged.’

‘Nu-uh!’ Roman cried, finally looking up from his drawing with a pout. ‘Not rigged if it’s true. Tigger is the funniest, bounciest, orangest, coolest character, and he’s my favourite. He just has to win all of the rounds!’

Despite the frankly questionable logic, Patton was simply glad that Roman was back to his cheeky self.

While they baked, Roman had been strangely well-behaved. The way he had obediently mixed the batter, rolled the dough, and shaped the cookies without so much as a whinge was highly unusual. Patton was glad he didn’t have to tell the boy off for anything, of course, but there was nothing relieving in seeing Roman stand patiently at the side of the room while Patton washed up. There was no singing, no dancing, no bouncing, not so much as a peep from the little prince. It just wasn’t right.

Roman was boisterous, whether he was little or not; he was excitable and hyperactive and loud. Usually, he would have baulked at the mere suggestion of standing in silence awaiting instructions. Though that was precisely what he had done in the kitchen by his own volition, staring at his feet in quite a pensive manner.

By the time he had set the gingerbread haycorns and hunnypots on the counter to cool down, Patton had made the decision to extend their father-son bonding time. He knew Roman’s strange mood would persist if Patton didn’t get to the bottom of it.

‘Where are you going, sweetheart?’ Patton had asked when Roman had started walking towards the living room once Patton had finished the dishes.

‘Back with Vee and Mom,’ Roman had replied. ‘We can’t decorate them yet.’

‘It’s still father-son bonding time though! Why don’t we find something fun to do while we wait?’

He wasn’t quite as bouncy as Patton had hoped he would be, but Roman at least smiled at the suggestion.

Now, after almost an hour of crafting Pooh Cards (all design credit owing to Roman, of course), the creative side had finally been coaxed out of his sombre, contemplative mood. Patton himself had even perked up from the reassurance that he still knew what was best for his little prince.

‘What if another player that isn’t you gets Tigger’s card?’ Patton asked, neatening the edges of the coloured rectangle. He was careful not to budge Roman with his elbow as did so. ‘Won’t you be sad to lose?’

The scritch of Roman’s crayon paused for a moment, then continued. ‘It will be a worthy loss.’

What a funny little boy, Patton thought with a chuckle. Having finished with Tigger’s statistics, he put the crayon back in Roman’s Lion King pencil case. ‘Okay, last one!’ He slid the card across the table to Roman’s spot. ‘Do you need your dad’s help to draw Tigger?’ Patton asked. (Not so much because he was expecting a positive response, but because he knew the question reinforced both of their respective headspaces.)

‘I got it!’ An orange crayon was snatched from the table.

Patton sat back and watched as Roman drew his favourite character with a bright smile. It was impossible not to mirror it. ‘Once you’ve finished drawing Tigger we can decorate our cookies!’

‘Dad,’ Roman whined without looking up from his drawing, ‘they’re not cookies. They’re haycorns and hunnypots.’

‘Right, haycorns and hunnypots,’ Patton quickly corrected himself. ‘I keep making that mistake, don’t I?’

There was no response from Roman, who was clearly concentrating on getting Tigger’s tail just so.

‘Cutie pie,’ Patton couldn’t help but coo. When he pinched Roman’s cheek the younger side laughed so sincerely that Paton was hit by a wave of equal parts joy and guilt.

Joy because Roman was happy and so utterly adorable. Guilt because Patton clearly didn’t spend enough time with his little prince if this was such a rare sound to him.

‘I’ll get the icing ready,’ Patton whispered, leaving the room quickly.

By the time he had moved the cookies and the icing bowls into the dining room, Roman’s drawing was complete. Patton praised him heartily for his work (to which Roman blushed and giggled) as he arranged their workspace with the three different bowls of glace icing - yellow, pink, and mint green - and the cookies, plus a tube of white writing icing for the hunnypot labels.

Excited to be in charge of yet another creative project, Roman instantly took on a leading role. ‘Dad, you’ve gotta do the writing on the hunnypots and fen - and f-th-then I’m gonna do all the pretty colours!’

‘Right-o, kiddo!’ Patton saluted him, then got right to work. ‘You always have such wonderful ideas, don’t you, little prince?’ The lid to the writing icing tube put up a slight resistance as Patton unscrewed it.

‘Mhm… I’m clever,’ Roman mumbled slowly, concentrating as he spread some green icing onto one of the haycorn cookies.

‘Just like your mom. I’m sure him and Vee agree too.’

‘Vee thinks I’m clever?’ Roman asked, his voice a pitch higher from excitement.

‘Of course, sweetie. He looks up to you a lot.’ The tail of the “Y” that Patton piped accidentally curled off of the hunnypot in his hand. Patton placed the cookie back on the cooling rack and licked the sugary blob off from his fingertip. ‘You two are such lovely brothers - you’re practically inseparable.’

There was a gentle snap. Both Patton and Roman looked down to see that the haycorn in Roman’s hands had snapped in half.

‘Oh…’ Roman breathed as he looked down at the broken cookie. The pout on his face was so intense that Patton was almost worried he would start crying.

‘No, it’s okay. Here,’ Patton gently took the gingerbread pieces from his fingers. ‘Your dad can work his magic and glue it back together with icing. You just keep making them look pretty, sweetheart.’

They resumed decorating in silence, with something indescribable hanging heavily in the air between them. Patton kept quiet, allowing Roman space to speak if he wanted to say anything. Then, after a couple of minutes:

‘Dad?’

It sounded shy, so instead of looking at Roman and possibly making him more nervous, Patton’s eyes remained on the haycorn halves that he held together. White icing oozed from the crack as he waited for it to set. ‘Yes, my bright ray of sunshine?’

The nickname pulled a little giggle from Roman, brightening the atmosphere infinitely. He sounded a bit more confident when he asked, ‘Is, um… is Vee wearing a diaper?’

Patton’s gaze snapped onto Roman’s face in faint shock.

‘There was a weird sound when Mom moved him earlier,’ Roman explained. ‘And you said he feels littler ‘cause you tried something new.’

There was no variation of upset or amusement on Roman’s face, so Patton was not concerned when he confirmed, ‘Yes, he is wearing a diaper, you’re right.’ Though he still felt it important to add, ‘Does that make you feel okay?’

Roman quickly nodded, clearly desperate to show that he was not in opposition. ‘No, it’s fine. W-wait, I mean yeah! Yeah, it’s okay.’ His eyes fell down to the cookie in his hands as he continued decorating. ‘It makes sense. Babies need diapers, right?’

‘Right.’

The way Roman gazed at his cookie reminded Patton of how he had appeared in the kitchen; contemplative. It was clear that Roman had more to say, going by the way his toes tapped at the foot of Patton’s chair rapidly. Patton waited.

‘Okay, wait, so,’ Roman eventually said, sounding as if he were a student troubling himself over a difficult math problem and Patton was the teacher who could shed some light on its solution. ‘Virgil really can’t go to the toilet?’

Patton readjusted himself to lean his elbows on the table, settling in to patiently help Roman through his confusion. ‘Not when he’s regressed, no.’ The cookie halves wobbled a little in his hold.

‘And can he really not speak properly?’

This time Patton had to take a moment to think over his answer. He hadn’t actually considered questioning whether Virgil’s hindered speech was genuine. Now that he thought about it, Virgil did appear to try hard when he spoke while regressed. Although the babbles were quiet and seemed to meld into each other, they were notably forced. As if he was putting a lot of effort into getting them out. And yet they were only ever half-coherent at the best of times.

‘No,’ Patton said, smiling to himself at the realisation. ‘I don’t think he can.’ The reminder that Virgil’s regression was all-encompassing sent a rush of excitement racing through Patton’s veins. He truly was responsible for an incredibly vulnerable baby. While that thought might have been intimidating to some, Patton was filled with pure comfort at the mere thought. It was like he was finally fulfilling his purpose. It was like coming home.

‘So… Vee is really, actually a baby.’ Roman’s eyes were wide and his voice laced with astonishment.

‘Yes,’ Patton confirmed with a giggle. It sounded like this was a new revelation to Roman. ‘Your baby brother is really, actually a baby.’

Roman’s brow pulled into a light frown as his spoon swiped over his cookie one last time before dropping into the icing bowl with a clatter.

It was clear Roman wanted to ponder over the answer, for whatever reason, so Patton turned his attention to testing the cookie in his hands. At the slightest pressure, the two halves broke free from each other, and he tutted. Replenishing the icing more liberally this time, he held the jagged edges together firmly again.

‘I like that,’ Roman muttered.

‘What’s that, sweetie?’

‘I like having a baby brother.’ Patton saw Roman nodding as if assuring himself of his decision. ‘I don’t want Vee to be like me, I like that we’re different.’

The last part seemingly came from nowhere, and the whole discussion seemed oddly disjointed, though Patton didn’t show his confusion. Instead, he opted for his standard smile of loving support, which would always be appropriate in any situation as far as Patton was concerned.

‘Well, I’m glad you like it!’ His tone bounced cheerfully. ‘And I know that Vee really loves having a big brother.’

‘Hm,’ Roman hummed and picked up a hunnypot cookie to decorate. Something in the slow movements of his fingers as he iced the treat felt off.

Patton nudged him gently, jostling his elbow. A sympathetic smile wormed its way onto his lips when he saw distant eyes snap onto him. Roman’s throat rolled with a gulp.

‘What’s the matter, little prince?‘ Patton murmured sweetly. It never took Roman long to blurt any troubling thoughts that hurtled through his mind when Patton asked about them with such softness.

Right on cue, Roman sighed explosively. Then he began: ‘Now that I’m part of the family -’

(Patton’s heart twisted. Now that Roman was part of the family. As if he hadn’t been before.)

‘- I’m kind of…’ Roman paused, nibbling his lip. His eyes fell to the table as he whispered, ‘I’m scared.’

Patton instantly dropped his cookie to the table. He didn’t care that it split apart once more, leaving a thin line of white, sugary goop on the wooden surface - his only priority at that moment was Roman. His little prince always placed so much importance on being fiercely brave and strong. Patton knew this must have been an exceptional circumstance for him to actually admit to feeling afraid.

‘What are you scared of, honey?’ he asked, his tone as steady and firm as the arm he placed around Roman’s shoulders. It was of utmost importance that Roman saw him as a supportive, strong father figure during that moment of rare vulnerability. It had to be known that Patton would protect him from anything that was causing him distress.

‘I’m scared it’ll end.’ Thankfully, Roman clearly found Patton supportive enough to lean against him as he spoke. ‘You know, us being a family.’

It was difficult to contain the urge to shrug off the mere idea. Though Patton knew better than to dismiss his loved ones’ worries, no matter how seemingly unlikely. ‘Why do you think it will end?’ he asked instead.

A sharp shrug jostled both of their bodies. ‘I don’t know… What if Vee stops regressing?’

‘I don’t think that will happen,’ Patton said gently as he swayed them to and fro. The weight against his side got heavier as Roman leaned into his one-armed embrace. ‘Your mom thinks the regression is written right into Virgil’s brain since he’s done it for so many years. It’s a part of him.’

‘Okay…’ Roman sounded uncertain still, reaching forward to fidget with the hem of Patton’s cardigan. ‘What if me and him start arguing all the time again?’

Taking the long fingers in his own, Patton whispered, ‘You won’t,’ with absolute confidence. ‘I don’t think you could go back to how you used to be after everything you boys have shared with each other.’

When Patton pressed a soft kiss to Roman’s cheek, he honestly expected to feel the tension leave Roman’s body.

Instead, the grip around Patton’s fingers tightened painfully. ‘What if he says he doesn’t wanna be brothers anymore?’ Roman’s words were frantic, panicked. ‘I don’t wanna lose him, he’s the best brother I…’

Silence reigned.

Patton’s gaze sunk to the tabletop where the two halves of the haycorn cookie lay torn apart, joined only by a thin trail of icing.

‘I just don’t want us to be split up,’ Roman whispered brokenly.

Memories flooded Patton’s mind. Of two boisterous children, identical twins, perpetually by each other’s sides despite their constant arguing. Of fearsome fights; scratching and biting and screaming. And of a thought, just a thought, that had passed through Patton’s mind one sunny day like an innocent floating cloud. The thought that one of the twins had potential and that the other was… wrong.

Memories of the following day and only seeing one child come out from their room. Of little snippets of conversation between Janus and Logan. Of realising that the other twin had not ceased to exist, but had been moved to the lower parts of the mind. (No one understood how. It was the only time a side had been moved between the conscious and the subconscious.) (That would change over a decade later when Virgil timidly knocked on their door.)

Memories of the “good” twin - Roman - seeming unaffected by the loss of his brother. Happier, even, that his ideas had no contenders. That there was no longer a double of him suggesting all manner of disturbing things that Patton simply could not stand to hear.

Warm fingers tightened further around his.

As Patton’s awareness was reeled against that cold, crashing wave of regret, his mind spluttered. Unaffected? Patton realised now the ridiculousness of the mere notion that Roman would have been unchanged by the split. By the fleeting thought from Patton - he himself still being a child at the time - that had acted as the catalyst for such an irrevocable shift in the twins’ lives. In everyone’s lives.

‘Dad?’ Roman’s gentle voice broke the surface of Patton’s turbulent reverie.

With a steadying breath, Patton forced himself back to the present and clasped both hands around Roman’s. He prayed that the tightness of his grip would dispel the trembling of his fingers.

‘You and Virgil love each other very much,’ he said, ‘and you’ve both become a lot better at showing it; when you’re little and when you’re big. Even if you did argue, you could never stop being brothers. Not now. I promise, nothing will -’ Patton’s voice was suddenly strangled by an involuntary gulp. He felt his cheeks burn as he swallowed past the knot of nerves in his throat. ‘Nothing will tear you apart,’ he finished quietly.

‘What if you and Logan break up?’

It was easy to forget how different Roman’s voice was when he was little. Him being such a master at adapting his voice for different roles, the shift in tone was subtle, though effective. The slightest bit higher in pitch, though not unnaturally so. Much bouncier in intonation, but not inappropriately so. Changed, but not overexaggerated. (Perhaps Roman was accustomed to minimising the impact of changes, Patton realised.)

Though now it was clear. This question was deeper, louder, bigger than the previous ones. It was a question from adult Roman.

Patton sighed and met Roman’s eyes equally. At that moment he was no longer a father speaking to his son, but rather a friend reassuring a friend.

‘If, for whatever reason, Logan and I stop dating…’ Patton paused. That was the first time he had verbally acknowledged that they were an item. It truly felt amazing to admit to someone besides Logan himself. Though it was a melancholy experience, to be announcing their relationship while simultaneously theorising its demise. ‘If that ever happens then we’ll still be very good friends. And we will all still be a family, I promise.’

The reluctance faded from Roman’s expression and he wriggled his hand free from Patton’s hold. A finger raised between their faces. ‘Pinky promise?’ Roman asked in childlike hopefulness.

Patton curled his little finger around Roman’s. ‘Pinky promise,’ he said earnestly.

Taking advantage of the fact that Roman’s hand was apprehended - and desperate to distract from the loaded atmosphere - Patton swiped some icing onto Roman’s face.

‘Hey!’

‘What’s wrong?’ Patton asked in mock-confusion.

Roman glared at him past a smile. ‘There’s icing on my cheek!’

‘Oh, let me get that for you!’ Patton pressed a long, wet kiss to Roman’s cheek, the icing spreading between his lips.

‘Da-ha-d,’ Roman giggled, trying to squirm away.

With a loud smack of his lips, Patton pulled away laughing. As he licked his lips clean, he took a moment to appreciate the pure joy on Roman’s face. ‘I love you, little prince. And I love Virgil and I love Logan. And I know for a fact that you all love each other too. That will never, ever end. No matter what.’

There was a loud screech of chair legs against the floorboards then Roman was on his feet, hunching over to hold Patton in a deadly-tight hug. Patton returned it with a strained wheeze.

‘I don’t want it to end,’ Roman mumbled into his shoulder. ‘I don’t want anything to change.’

That was a loaded statement if Patton had ever heard one. The sentiment behind it was clear and admirable, of course. Like Roman, Patton too loved how their family was faring and wouldn’t change it for the world. Though he was hit by the reality of just how much had changed in the past few weeks, the past few days, even the past few hours!

Regardless, he knew what Roman meant, and he wasn’t one to magnify the ambiguity of language choices. That was Logan’s job.

So - despite his uncertainty in the generalisation of the statement - Patton held Roman closer and said, ‘Nothing will change, sweetheart.’

oOo

As much as he had enjoyed his and Roman’s Father-Son bonding time (which they agreed would become a weekly ritual from then on), Patton was more than eager to return to the living room and be the happy pappy again. It was hard to shake the melancholy from the earlier conversation, after all.

Once the hunnypots and haycorns were decorated and left to set in the kitchen, the two traipsed back down the hallway. Patton stopped just short of opening the living room door when he heard a muffled, unintelligible conversation coming from the other side of it.

He looked behind him to Roman, who mirrored his confusion. The distant voices sounded as if they were holding a full-fledged discussion. Could Virgil have been grown-up again?

Patton pushed the door open with a deep disappointment that he didn’t quite want to acknowledge. Though on poking his head into the room, it didn’t take long to see that Virgil was still regressed and in Logan’s lap. He sighed in relief.

‘Mamanaba,’ Virgil muttered, rattling Meeko with fervour. The inflection of his voice was similar to that of normal speech, even if the actual content was gibberish and his tone was still decidedly babyish.

Logan’s hands readjusted on Virgil to hold him steady as the boy kept bouncing in his lap. ‘My goodness, I never considered such a thing! Though I don’t believe that is quantifiable.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Roman laughed from behind Patton, then stepped around him in the direction of the couch.

There was nothing but pure paternal instinct that made Patton hurriedly reach out and pull Roman backwards against his chest and into his arms. He just could not bear to see the others being so sweet while his own arms were empty of one of his babies. Thankfully, Roman just settled against him and didn’t comment on it.

‘This is an academic debate, little prince,’ Logan explained very seriously, offering one of his false-stern looks. His lips twitched. ‘No interruptions, please.’

‘W-waba, mamama,’ Virgil babbled, his voice now squeaky with excitement.

Logan gasped loudly and looked at Virgil in amazement, to which the regressor giggled. ‘What a fascinating hypothesis! But have you considered the subjectivity of such a theory?’

There was a moment of quiet while Virgil looked over at the doorway to Patton and Roman. It seemed he had only just noticed their appearance. Meeko was raised to hide Virgil’s face as he collapsed against Logan’s chest. ‘Baba,’ Virgil whined, muffled by the toy at his chin.

A loud chuckle rang out. ‘Well, you’ve certainly given me a lot to think about,’ Logan said, cupping the back of Virgil’s head protectively.

‘Mom, can you speak baby?’ Roman asked, sounding thoroughly impressed. As he spoke, he launched himself away from Patton’s chest and skipped over to stand in front of the couch.

‘It certainly sounds like it,’ Patton murmured, watching Roman go. The sudden emptiness in his arms couldn’t hold a candle to the emptiness in his chest. Why was he so sensitive all of a sudden? Why did his chest physically ache when he wasn’t holding his boys?

Then his thoughts came to a crashing stop. No. This wasn’t about him and what he wanted. Roman obviously didn’t want a hug so he was perfectly within his right to wriggle out of it. Patton had been keeping him from his brother, after all. The memories of his and Roman’s previous conversation rose in tides, threatening to spill over. Patton had been keeping Roman from his brother again.

‘What did you two get up to, little prince?’ Logan asked. ‘Did you have fun with your dad?’

As Roman launched into an impassioned regaling of the creation of Pooh Cards and his expert cookie decorating skills, Patton floated over to the couch - specifically towards the baby in Logan’s lap. His knuckle ghosted over Virgil’s smooth cheek and elicited a small coo from him. The contact and the sweet sound filled Patton with a sudden motivation that he hadn’t realised he had been lacking.

Then Virgil pulled himself to sit up from Logan’s chest and shook his rattle right by Patton’s ear with a bright smile that threatened to dislodge his pacifier. ‘Babababa.’

‘What a fun sound!’ Patton gushed, only faintly acknowledging that Roman’s monologue had just drawn to a close. ‘I see someone’s woken up a bit since we left.’

‘He is rather enraptured by the rattling sound,’ Logan said, shuffling Virgil in his lap so that he could more directly face the others. (It was true, the way Virgil stared at his toy looked as if we were both confused and amazed by the sounds coming from it; almost spellbound.) ‘I think it’s safe to say that it is a “good stim”.’ He directed his gaze to Roman and said, ‘Virgil appreciates his present from you Roman, even if he is not able to tell you as much at the moment. Thank you for making your little brother happy.’

Roman flopped down to sit on the couch a couple of feet away from Logan with pink cheeks. ‘S’okay,’ he muttered with a nonchalant shrug that was betrayed by his wide smile.

Quite unexpectedly, Virgil whined loudly and dropped Meeko to the couch. Then he wriggled and reached his arms out towards his brother so insistently that he slid right off of Logan’s lap.

‘Vee!’ Logan yelped.

Patton acted lightning fast, dropping to his knees and catching Vee in one fell swoop. A fraction of a second later and Virgil would have hit the ground.

‘Woah, there we go.’ Patton hoisted Virgil onto his hip and stood upright again, keeping a firm arm under Virgil’s diaper to support him. ‘Are you okay, angel?’ he asked breathlessly, residual adrenaline surging through his veins.

The shock didn’t fade from Virgil’s expression for several seconds. Then, at last, his eyes swam with thick tears and he broke into a constant stream of whimpers.

‘Aww, my little baby,’ Patton cooed. He started bouncing him lightly as parents often did with wailing infants. ‘You’re all right, sweetie. Shh-shh-shh.’ Virgil’s whimpers quickly quieted at the bouncing so Patton kept it up, warm adoration swelling in his chest at just how alike a real baby Virgil was.

With a wet sniffle, Virgil buried his face against Patton’s shoulder.

‘That’s it,’ Patton murmured. ‘Papa has you, you’re safe.’ He felt a pinch at his side and looked down to see that Virgil was gripping his cardigan and tugging on the material harshly. Without looking away from his baby, Patton held his free hand out to the couch. ‘Can someone please pass me Meeko?’

A few seconds passed without any softness being pressed into his hands. Patton looked over to find Logan and Roman sat staring at him in stunned silence.

It felt as though he had unknowingly done something horribly wrong. Heat flooded his cheeks. ‘What’s wrong, what did I do?’ Was he being a bad Dad? Would they take his baby away? His grip on Virgil tightened.

‘N-nothing,’ Logan stammered.

A loud snort sounded from Roman. ‘Wow, Dad’s pretty strong, isn’t he, Mom?’

‘Oh,’ Patton breathed with a nervous chuckle, trying to hide how utterly relieved he was. The look of betrayal Logan was directing towards Roman inspired enough amusement for it to be passable. ‘You carried him earlier too, Lo.’

‘I know that,’ Logan defended, his cheeks dusting pink as he looked back at Patton. ‘Just… not with one arm.’

Patton’s eyes trailed down to realise that he was indeed bouncing Virgil easily with only one arm.

Logan cleared his throat then muttered, ‘It is rather impressive.’

‘Well, I’m a dad,’ Patton giggled lightly. He would never have imagined Logan would be flustered by such a thing. ‘Dads need to be strong for Dad Stuff!’

‘Like catching Moms when they swoon.’

At Roman’s cheeky remark, Logan’s mouth dropped open. The creative side quickly descended into giggles.

Patton witnessed the shock on Logan’s face be wiped away by an evil grin. ‘Oh, I’ll give you something to laugh about.’ Then Roman was being tugged towards Logan’s chest, Logan’s fingers wriggling in his underarms.

‘W-wait! Wait!’ Roman’s legs kicked against the couch as he was dragged into Logan’s lap. ‘Mom, ple-he-he-ase!’ he pleaded through already hysterical laughter.

Patton giggled and shook his head. It wasn’t often Logan tickled their little prince, but when he did he was merciless. Roman’s begging would not help him.

Amongst the raucous laughter and tumbling on the couch, Patton managed to swipe Meeko from the cushion before Roman’s ankles thrust into it with a squeal.

‘Here you are, honey bunny,’ Patton said, worming the toy between his cardigan and Virgil’s fingers.

The weight on his shoulder lifted as Virgil looked up with a curious hum. On seeing that he had been reunited with his raccoon, his eyes sparkled with joy rather than tears. And, as expected, he rattled the toy for what must have been the hundredth time.

‘Why did you jump off of Mama’s lap, Vee?’ Patton asked, fully aware that Virgil might not have been old enough to even understand the question. It was worth a try at least.

The question seemed to break Virgil from the trance the rattle had him under and he started whining and wriggling violently.

‘Baby, baby, it’s okay,’ Patton tried to soothe him. It was only met with louder whines and harder kicks. ‘All right, down we go,’ he sang, doing his best to make the words bounce with joy. It was difficult considering the immense sinking sensation in his stomach as he carefully lowered Virgil to the floor.

‘Is everything all right?’

Patton looked up at Logan’s breathless question, pleasantly surprised to see Roman still in Logan’s lap, finally free of the tickle attack.

‘I just asked him why he jumped off your lap.’

At the reminder, Virgil thrust his arms out towards Roman again and pleaded, ‘Wo… Wo-Wo!’

‘I didn’t do anything!’ Roman’s shoulders raised defensively as he looked to Patton. ‘It wasn’t my fault he fell!’

‘We know that, little prince. It’s all right,’ Logan assured him, embracing him to his chest.

With a gentle smile, Patton realised that Virgil was not blaming Roman for the fall whatsoever. ‘Sweetheart, I think Vee just wants to play with you.’

Virgil’s arms stretched even further into the empty space between himself and the couch. ‘Pway!’

‘Oh, um,’ Roman hesitated, looking at the ground and running his fingers over Logan’s arms, which were fastened around his waist.

‘I would like to stretch my legs anyway,’ Logan said, carefully sliding Roman off of his lap.

There was a short moment of thick quiet. It was over in an instant as Logan quickly rose to his feet, announcing that he would fetch some more toys for them before promptly leaving the room.

Before long, Logan had returned with supplies and the caregivers had set up a baby-safe play area for the boys. A large fluffy blanket lay across half of the living room floor and more than two dozen soft toys sat around the edges of the blanket, cordoning off the area. Around the room, cushions and pillows padded the harsh corners of the coffee table, TV unit, and radiator to avoid any painful bumps.

Roman was as bubbly as ever, overspilling with exuberant playfulness as he finally had his little brother’s full attention.

‘And what doth the King Meeko have to say to this usurper?’ Roman cried regally, bouncing his stuffed dog Bumpkin in his hands to indicate that he was speaking.

Virgil giggled and bounced in place where he sat against the foot of the armchair, carefully propped up by two pillows. His laughter mixed with the rattles coming from Meeko as he shook him.

‘Vee, what do you want Bumpkin to say?’ Logan mumbled from where he sat beside Patton on the couch.

A happy hum rolled from Patton’s chest. It was rare that they got a chance to sit together while both boys were little, but Virgil had gotten surprisingly fussy when Logan tried to sit with him on the blanket. It seemed the excitement of being with Roman had chased away his languid energy and he wanted to sit alone with his brother while they played.

Despite Patton’s increasing panic at seeing his little baby sitting all on his own, not in his arms, Patton felt comforted by Logan’s closeness. It meant he could run his fingers idly over Logan’s thigh as Logan’s arm draped heavily across his shoulders. He took the rare moment of casual intimacy in stride. Usually, they had to sneak around while the boys were asleep to cuddle and kiss. Though since he had spoken so openly about their relationship with Roman in the dining room, and seeing as Virgil was either unbothered by or unaware of their displays of affection, they allowed themselves this intimate moment.

‘A-ababa,’ Virgil babbled, pointing to the soft toy in Roman’s hands.

Roman sucked in a pained breath through his teeth. ‘Oof. That’s brutal, Vee.’ It earned him a bright symphony of babyish giggles.

Over the next few minutes, Patton brought his cellphone out to take pictures of the littles. Then when Logan pointed out that he had taken more than twenty almost identical photographs, Patton rolled his eyes with a playful nudge to his partner. He would have easily taken a thousand pictures if it meant he could remember this day by the adorable scene in front of him, rather than the blunt, heavy regret hammering away within him.

‘How old is Vee right now?’ Patton wondered aloud, partly because he was watching Virgil through his phone screen. Partly because he just needed Logan’s voice to drown out Roman’s sorrowful words from earlier that kept replaying in his head.

‘Going by his babbling and playfulness,’ Logan replied, ‘I would place him around eight or nine months.’

All of the breath wrung from Patton’s lungs as he snapped his gaze onto Logan. ‘Months?’

Not seeming to notice Patton’s shock, Logan continued watching the boys with a gentle smile and nodded.

‘That’s way younger than he usually is…’ Patton placed his phone down on the couch, feeling shaky all of a sudden.

‘I am not so certain.’ A thumb started circling softly over Patton’s knuckles as Logan explained in a low murmur, ‘At first he told us he regressed from two to five years old. Though I have been observing his behaviour over the past few weeks, and I believe he has been greatly mistaken in this estimation.’

The soft material of Logan’s slacks bunched between Patton’s fingers. ‘What, do you think he’s not that old?’ The new information bombarded him with the horrible thought that he hadn’t been doing his job as a father if he hadn’t even noticed how old Virgil was when he regressed.

Gaze fixed on their boys, lips fixed in an oblivious smile, Logan went on: ‘Nothing I have seen of his regression has suggested he is ever older than two and a half years - though even then, being that old is rare for him.’ He tilted his head in thought, which would have been adorable had Patton’s vision not been pulsating with his frantic heartbeat. ‘I wonder whether he misunderstands developmental stages, or whether it is simply a case of him being unaware of his own behaviour patterns.’

‘What ages does he actually regress to?’ Patton whispered. He stared intently at Logan, desperate for the answer that he had apparently been too incompetent to see for himself.

With utmost confidence, Logan said, ‘Three to twenty-four months.’

Hot tears sprang to Patton’s eyes. ‘Three months…’ he echoed under his breath. Practically a newborn. With a gulp, Patton’s watery eyes settled on Virgil. A newborn who had been alone for so many years.

His wet eyes being glued on Virgil’s steadily blurrier form, Patton was startled when he felt Logan’s arm pushing insistently at his shoulders. Within seconds Patton was on his feet and being swiftly ushered into the hallway. His heart lurched when the blue and purple blob fell out of sight as he was guided past the corner of the doorway and the tears finally fell to his cheeks.

‘Your dad and I are right outside if you need us. Keep playing with your little brother,’ Logan’s voice said, then the door was pulled mostly shut and Patton was surrounded by long, warm arms. ‘What’s wrong, Patton?’

It all happened so quickly that he had no hope of burying his emotions, so Patton didn’t speak. He just clung to Logan and sniffled into his shoulder, thinking about what he had learned. About Virgil being so young and consequently about everything he had ever had to deal with on his own. The loneliness, the accidents, the bullies.

Patton bit his tongue through a wave of overwhelming anger. Over the course of the next minute, he simply took in deep, shaky breaths, glad that Logan did nothing but tap out one-second intervals on his back to aid his breathing.

Then, just as he thought he had overcome the worst of it, a babyish giggle rang from behind the living room door.

A sob wrenched its way from Patton’s throat.

‘My love, please tell me what’s wrong,’ Logan pleaded, his voice gentle though pained.

‘Sorry,’ Patton choked, pulling his face back from Logan’s shoulder to scrub his sleeve over his eyes. When he opened them and caught the utter sincerity in Logan’s concerned expression, the tears started anew. What exactly had Patton done to deserve such a wonderful man?

Patton couldn’t bear to hold back his lament any longer, keeping quiet so as not to upset the boys in the next room. ‘He’s just so - he’s literally just a baby. He’s innocent and - and vulnerable and -’ his voice wobbled and broke off with a shuddered breath. As he recollected all Virgil had told them of the hate he received on his blog, that same boiling rage oozed through Patton’s entire being. It stung and made him tremble. Like poison. ‘I can’t believe those horrible people would bully him for it!’

At the hissed tone, Logan’s face crumpled with a wince. Patton was ready to vehemently apologise for himself - about to claim he had no idea where that came from, it wasn’t him at all - until Logan said, ‘I know. I am angry too.’

There was no way Patton could have predicted how comforting those four words were. They doused the fire in his chest and left him dumbstruck. The raging indignance that had been snapping and flaring within him all afternoon suddenly disappeared and all that was left was a smouldering, pathetic sorrow.

Patton slumped back into Logan’s arms in defeat.

‘He was on his own for so many years, Lo. It’s bad enough he couldn’t look after himself,’ Patton whispered and shook his head, Logan’s shirt rustling faintly with the movement, ‘but on top of that some strangers attacked him just for - for -’

‘For trying to feel safe,’ Logan finished, twining his fingers gently in Patton’s thick hair.

Delighted, squeaky laughter echoed from the living room.

‘Not everyone is accepting.’ The deep voice vibrated in Logan’s chest. Patton held onto him tighter. ‘It is an unfortunate reality in both Thomas’ world and ours, and I understand it is upsetting. As much as we would like to, we simply cannot protect our boys from every possible threat.’

The icy pang of dread in Patton’s gut was twice as toxic as the scalding anger from before. What was Patton’s whole purpose if not to look after his family?

‘Virgil was not completely helpless to it, though,’ Logan continued. ‘He disabled anonymous asks without being prompted to do so. That shows he had the foresight to prevent it from happening again. He was protecting himself.’

Gentle shivers radiated over Patton’s scalp as Logan’s fingernails combed through his hair. ‘That’s meant to be our job,’ he argued weakly, ‘and he didn’t even tell us about it.’

‘Not at first,’ Logan conceded. ‘Still, that does not mean he did not trust us.’ Then Logan pulled back from the hug, leaving Patton cold. ‘You know how reluctant he is to share things that he perceives as embarrassing. Your conversation with him yesterday proves as much,’ he said, turning and walking down the hallway.

‘Where are you going?’ Patton shrieked, his hands curling into tight fists by his sides.

Logan looked back in shock. Then he carefully reached out to pick up the tissue box that sat on the cabinet by the staircase. The movement was slow, and Logan watched Patton all the while as if he were a startled animal that had to be monitored.

Shame flooded Patton. ‘Oh. Sorry, just… not done cuddling you yet.’

A soft smile replaced Logan’s frown and he brought a couple of tissues back to Patton, holding him again and dabbing at his itchy eyes. ‘I didn’t realise you would be competing with a box of tissues for my attention,’ Logan chuckled.

Patton knew it was a joke, of course he did. He loved jokes and he loved that Logan was finally comfortable enough in himself to make them without fearing people's opinions of him. But suddenly the heat in his chest was reignited.

‘Why didn’t you just summon them?’ Patton asked flatly.

The tissue that Logan stroked over his cheekbone faltered.

‘You always say how important it is that we don’t challenge the mindscape,’ Patton went on, glad that this topic had distracted Logan enough from his sudden clinginess. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you summon since you realised the whole - what’s it called?’

‘Equivalent exchange,’ Logan supplied, blushing. It was he who realised that the programming he had set up for their mindscape to follow real world laws of physics glitched whenever the sides took advantage of their powers; summoning an object would make another of similar mass and/or sentimental worth disappear, and breaking the laws of physics would train the mindscape to disparage Logan’s carefully crafted code. For the sake of stability in their environment, they had long since all agreed to sacrifice the convenience of summoning unless in emergencies. Logan most of all, which is why Patton was so shocked when he saw he had summoned a baby book earlier. ‘I understand it was hypocritical of me to break my own rule. I apologise, it won’t be happening again.’

Patton nodded. He didn’t want Logan to think he was upset with him, though he was satisfied that he had redirected the conversation effectively. ‘What was so urgent about a baby book anyway?’

‘I could not think of anything to calm Vee down,’ Logan explained, pocketing the crumpled tissue as Patton’s face was perfectly dry by then. ‘Regretfully, I acted quite impulsively in response to his crying.’

‘Oh no, was the poor thing upset?’ Patton asked, all harsh emotion replaced by softness and concern for his little one.

With a soft sigh, Logan leaned forward to press a kiss to Patton’s forehead. ‘You know how his separation anxiety is,’ he murmured against his skin, lingering there.

Patton frowned at Logan’s chest. ‘He still has separation anxiety?’

‘Of course,’ Logan said, putting some distance between them to look down at him.

‘But,’ Patton blinked rapidly, ‘earlier he was okay with me leaving and he - he hid from me, I thought -’

‘Patton, it doesn’t disappear from one positive experience,’ Logan explained, his arms still wrapped around Patton’s shoulders. ‘It may have been dimmed momentarily though it is still very much present. I believe it may be a permanent fixture of his headspace, simply due to the ages he regresses to and his anxious nature.’

‘Oh… okay.’ It was hard to know what else to say. Earlier Patton had thought he was proud of Virgil for overcoming his separation anxiety. But hearing that Virgil would perhaps never get over it sent a wave of warm comfort over Patton. He wanted to smile, but the fluffy feeling was sullied by something. Something distant that he couldn’t identify. Something unpleasant.

‘Do you know what time it is?’ Logan asked softly, spoken as if it were a love confession.

Patton instinctively reached into his pocket, only to come out empty-handed. ‘Sorry, I must have left my phone in -’

A featherlight touch at his lips made Patton fall silent: Logan’s fingertips. He could feel Logan’s pulse thrumming through them.

‘It’s later,’ Logan whispered, his eyes swimming with utter adoration. Then the soft fingertips were replaced by softer lips and Patton fell into a dream.

They floated together for a while, suspended in the short space between their hearts. After a few gentle pecks and a quick swipe of tongues, Logan pulled away.

‘That was sweet,’ Patton whispered airily, letting his eyes flutter open. Then he saw that Logan was frowning deeply at him.

‘Patton…’ Logan licked his lips and grimaced a little. He started chuckling, ‘Just how much lemon did you put in your tea?’

It wrenched Patton from his dreamy state.

Guilt. The unpleasant feeling that was sullying his emotions was guilt. Guilt because how could he think himself supportive of his family if in the face of their developments his response had been extreme jealousy? So extreme that he had had to literally suck on a lemon to pull himself out of it.

As if that weren’t awful enough, Patton had actually felt happy when he learned Virgil would continue to be distressed by his separation anxiety. He had failed his baby, just like he had failed his little prince by neglecting him and not recognising his insecurities. He had failed at being a dad; the one thing he thought he knew. Why was he even trying to be a caregiver when he kept accidentally hurting his family?

Roman called loudly from the living room, ‘Dad?’

A switch flipped in Patton’s brain. No, he wouldn’t give up. His boys needed their dad and that had to be him. No matter how many mistakes he made, how wrong he was, Patton would never let go of the only thing in the world he could do. He would never let go of his purpose. The one thing he lived for.

He was nothing if he couldn’t be Papa Patton.

He slipped right past Logan, not caring to check his reaction to Patton’s avoidance. With a huge smile, Patton bounced into the living room. ‘What’s up, my majestic little songbird?’

It was immediately clear why Roman had called.

Where Virgil had been sitting on the blanket before they left the room, giggling and rattling Meeko excitedly, both boys now sat. Roman’s arm was thrown over Virgil’s shoulders protectively, supporting the younger boy as he swayed and blinked slowly. His eyes were decidedly teary and he was tugging at his pacifier again.

‘Oh, my sweet little baby,’ Patton cooed, rushing over to them. The storm of guilt and jealousy cleared from his mind in an instant, leaving him a little light-headed. It was replaced by a muffled determination and affection that made everything seem softer around the edges.

Dropping to his knees, Patton pulled Virgil into a hug. There was a little whimper, and then his shoulder was immediately used as a hiding spot for Virgil’s face. ‘What happened, Roman?’ Patton asked, leaning back against the foot of the armchair. He rested his hand atop Virgil’s head and felt as though his heart had started beating for the first time in hours.

‘He just froze and went super quiet all of a sudden,’ Roman explained, letting go of his brother and collapsing back onto the blanket with a pout. ‘Then he didn’t wanna play anymore.’

‘It’s all right, Roman,’ Logan said, settling onto the floor beside Roman with a reassuring pat on his knee. ‘Virgil can play with you again another time.’ He began clearing the mess of various toys on the blanket, assembling them into an ordered line.

‘Are you upset, baby?’ Patton whispered, rocking Virgil slightly in his hold.

As was to be expected, there was no answer. Virgil only hid his face against Patton more fiercely.

‘Perhaps it was the separation anxiety.’

Patton nodded faintly at Logan’s suggestion, but internally he knew that wasn’t it. In the past, if Virgil was anxious about being separated from Patton he was much more vocal in his upset; sobbing and whining loudly. Plus he certainly hadn’t heard Virgil calling out for him before Roman beckoned him in, so Patton remained doubtful that that was the issue.

Another difference became obvious as Virgil hugged Patton tighter, forcing Patton to hunch down a little to accommodate it. Where Virgil would always scramble into Patton’s lap at being reunited with him, this time he had remained on the floor with his legs pulled tightly to his chest. Patton experimentally nudged Virgil’s knees to convince him to lower them but was met with a whine and Virgil’s whole body tensed up.

As Patton shushed his baby and swayed him back and forth, he just knew. There was no solid thought process he could attribute to his realisation. He thought it must have been his paternal instincts (which sent a rush of pride through him). Though regardless of how he knew it, Patton was quite certain that Virgil’s diaper was wet.

Then Logan spoke. ‘I think I would like to -’

‘I’m handling it,’ Patton assured firmly without looking up from his baby.

There was a short while of silence before Logan spoke again. ‘I was going to say I would like to play Pooh Cards with Roman.’

Shame flooded Patton’s mind. He chased it away by rubbing soothing circles on Virgil’s back.

‘Oh yeah!’ Roman cried, jumping up from the blanket so fast Patton was surprised he didn’t fall face-first to the floor with the momentum of it. As he bounced in place he grabbed and tugged on Logan’s hands. ‘Mom, Mom, Mom, quick, come see!’

There was a slight reluctance as Logan raised to his feet. ‘I said I would play with you Roman. Please do not pull me.’

Patton rolled his eyes. Roman was merely excited, and he knew his own strength. It wasn’t like it hurt Logan. There was no reason for him to be so strict with their little prince.

‘Are you sure you two will be all right?’ Logan asked, and his voice actually wobbled.

Logan - who always kept a steady, calm voice even in moments of distress - was presumably so worried about leaving Virgil with Patton that his voice had actually wavered.

Patton had to unclench his jaw to reply, ‘Of course we will, I’m his papa.’ It came out far more snappish than he had intended. He ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair, using the soft tendrils to distract himself from the sinking feeling in his chest. ‘I mean - he’s okay. I know what this is.’ Finally meeting Logan’s gaze, Patton offered a small smile that he knew didn’t meet his eyes.

‘Okay, love,’ Logan said softly, lovingly, and Patton knew he didn’t deserve it.

Then Logan led Roman out of the room to fetch the card game and the papa and his baby were left alone.

For a minute they simply sat, Patton still swaying them gently. Going by the fact that Virgil was no longer whimpering, it was clear the cuddle was soothing him. Patton too felt himself relaxing as their bodies moved as one and their breaths synchronised.

Over the course of those few quiet moments, Patton’s worries all seemed to float away. As if Virgil were a calm breeze, clearing the muggy clouds of guilt and bitterness from Patton’s mind and replacing them with crystal clear skies. Patton nuzzled his nose into Virgil’s hair and breathed deeply, feeling as though he hadn’t tasted oxygen until that very second. There was no other feeling in the world that could compare.

‘Come on, sweetheart. Let’s have a proper cuddle.’

There was no protest as Patton shuffled both of them up into the seat of the armchair. Virgil kept a tight hold on Meeko all the while, clearly afraid of dropping the toy. Admittedly, Patton had hoped he would have an opportunity to check Virgil’s diaper during the movement, but their positions simply didn’t allow for it. As soon as they were seated with Virgil on Patton’s lap, the regressor whined and hurriedly wriggled off of his legs to squeeze into the small space between Patton and the armrest.

‘It’s okay, honey,’ Patton murmured, letting Virgil curl up to his side instead. His knees were flush with his chest once more; hiding his lap on instinct, Patton realised.

‘Dad!’ Roman yelled, skipping back into the living room with a bright smile. ‘Mom really likes my game and says I’m really clever!’

Feeling Virgil jolt at the sudden noise, Patton carded his fingers through his hair softly. ‘That’s wonderful, sweetie,’ he said, trying not to feel disheartened by the interruption to his and Virgil’s time together. ‘I think you’re very clever too.’

Roman appeared to vibrate. ‘And - and n-now Mom is gonna play with me!’

‘Well, I hope you win, little prince,’ Patton chuckled, enamoured by Roman’s sweet enthusiasm. Then he put on a loud stage-whisper, ‘Try to get the Tigger card!’

A deep gasp sounded from the doorway. ‘I heard that, Patton!’ Logan entered the room with a look of mock-offence. He held a red sippy cup in one hand and the stack of Pooh Cards in his other. ‘I cannot believe you’re conspiring against me.’

Patton giggled, twirling a lock of Virgil’s hair around his pinky. ‘I’m a supportive dad, I have to be on Roman’s side!’

‘Hm, I suppose I can concede that,’ Logan grumbled, throwing a quick smile Patton’s way. He handed Roman his sippy cup, praising him when he said, ‘Thank you’.

There was a quiet whine from Virgil and Patton rocked him a little. He was probably upset by the others being so close given his shy headspace at that moment.

‘Come here, little one,’ Logan called, moving to sit by the coffee table at the other side of the room. ‘I need you to teach me how to play.’

Roman did not react.

‘Sweetie, that’s you,’ Patton whispered, reaching out to squeeze Roman’s hand.

A blush overtook Roman as he looked over at his mom, a smile forming on his lips. ‘Me?’

‘Of course,’ Logan nodded. By the casual shuffling of the Pooh Cards in his hands, it almost appeared as if Logan didn’t recognise the gravity of calling Roman ‘little one’, though Patton knew his partner better than that. He knew that Logan must have noticed Roman’s need for coddling in the face of Virgil’s younger headspace.

Patton grinned as he watched Roman rush over, sitting as close to Logan as was physically possible.

Then he felt Virgil trying to burrow into his shoulder further and looked down. The boy’s neck was noticeably strained by the action since he had to stretch awkwardly seeing as he wasn’t in Patton’s lap like he usually was.

‘Do you wanna sit in Papa’s lap?’

A slight nod came in reply.

‘All right, on three. Ready?’ Patton secured his arms around Virgil’s back and under his diaper. ‘One, two… three!’ As he easily lifted Virgil onto his lap, he took the opportunity to subtly pat and pinch the diaper through the fabric of his onesie. Definitely wet. With a swell of satisfaction at being correct in his assumption, Patton lowered Virgil to his lap and kissed his head.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed though. Once he was sitting on Patton’s thighs, Virgil immediately whimpered and hid his face behind Meeko.

‘It’s okay, baby,’ Patton reassured, rocking him again. ‘Papa was just checking if you’re still dry.’

The explanation was met with a tiny squeak. Virgil lowered Meeko, revealing his pink cheeks and rattling the toy once more. Though he did not shake it with the same vigour he had earlier; this time Meeko was gently waved to and fro quite lazily. ‘Bababa,’ Virgil mumbled.

Apparently, the diaper check had comforted Virgil and reinforced his younger headspace. Patton sighed and held his baby closer. That was just utterly adorable.

Logan cleared his throat quite pointedly from the other side of the room, and when Patton met his eyes he mouthed silently: Is he dry?

Patton responded with a slight shake of his head. Then, strangely, he felt his lips curl into a smile. Even stranger, Logan mirrored it, and Patton was quite sure they must have been thinking the same thing:

That Virgil had had an accident again, but this time there was no sobbing. There was no hyperventilating. There was no panic attack. In fact, the only indication he had wet himself at all was the fact that he had been pushed back into his sleepy baby state, and that wasn’t a bad thing whatsoever!

Looking down at him now, it was clear to Patton that the diapers were a hugely positive change for Virgil. Despite his lethargic energy, his dimples were showing at the sides of his pacifier which bobbed lazily in his mouth. As he rattled Meeko softly, his eyes sparkled with babyish curiosity. He was calm and happy. It soothed Patton immensely.

oOo

As their time together went on, Patton and Virgil cuddled and played so much that it was impossible for Patton to wipe the cheesy grin from his face. He had rocked Virgil gently, tickled his cheek softly to watch him blush and giggle, dutifully kissed Meeko whenever Virgil held the toy up to Patton with a smile, and now…

‘Are you ready?’ Patton asked in his most exaggerated baby-talk voice. ‘Is my baby ready for more bounces?’

Virgil giggled and kicked his feet a little by Patton’s hips, facing him in his lap. Meeko was hugged tightly to his chest as he nodded.

‘Ahhhh…’ Patton started, securing his grip on Virgil’s shoulders. ‘Bouncy, bouncy baby!’ He bounced his legs on each syllable, making Virgil bob up and down in his lap with little squeals of happiness. ‘What a cute little stormcloud!’

Sweet laughter continued to tumble from behind Virgil’s pacifier. ‘Baba, g-gen!’

‘Again?’ Patton repeated, chuckling. They had been doing this for several minutes by that point, and his legs ached from the constant lifting. But who was he to deny his baby when his eyes glittered with such joy? ‘Okay. Last one, sweetie.’

There was no protest, only a squeak of anticipation. Virgil really was a sweet baby.

‘Ahhhhh… bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, bouncy baby!’

Delighted laughter escaped the pair and danced in the air surrounding both of them. Then Virgil smushed his face into Meeko and made a strangled, high-pitched sound. It was a common verbal stim when he was overwhelmed by happiness.

‘Oh my goodness,’ Patton gushed heartily, huddling Virgil closer in his lap and wrapping him in a tight hug. ‘You are the sweetest, squeakiest, most adorable little baby in the whole world.’ He emphasised his point by pressing a great number of kisses to Virgil’s cheek in quick succession.

Virgil suddenly whined quite desperately and pushed at Patton’s chest to be released from his hold. Feeling a rush of concern, Patton held Virgil at arm’s length, still supporting him but trying not to crowd him. ‘I’m sorry, was it a yucky feeling, honey?’ he asked, fearing he had set off Virgil’s sensory sensitivities.

Though Virgil still smiled and promptly held Meeko up in front of Patton’s face.

Patton bit his tongue through a wide smile. ‘Why hello again, Meeko! Would you like some kissies too?’

‘Mnh,’ Virgil hummed insistently, rattling the toy a little.

Chuckling, Patton leaned forward and pressed a loud, ‘Mwah!’ right on Meeko’s button nose. When he pulled back, Virgil dropped Meeko to his lap and held Patton’s cheeks softly between his hands.

Patton was frozen in place. His brain simply couldn’t handle the adorableness.

‘Dad, Dad, look!’

Patton held Virgil’s hands softly to stop him from squishing his cheeks for a moment. Looking over to the coffee table, he saw that Roman was holding a full deck of Pooh Cards up to him with a triumphant smile.

‘Yay, you won again!’ Patton cheered, laughing when Virgil giggled and poked his cheeks again. ‘Well done, my clever little prince!

‘He’s a complete expert at this game,’ Logan said, stretching his back with a click. It must have been an awkward position to be sat on the floor hunched over the coffee table for so long (though exactly how long Patton wasn’t sure, he didn’t care to check the time.) ‘I don’t think I will ever be able to outsmart you at Pooh Cards, Roman.’

It was clear that Logan had purposefully let Roman win every game from the snippets of laughter and dramatic sighs Patton had heard as they played. Though Roman either hadn’t clocked it or didn’t care about it going by his extreme happiness.

‘How about we have some hunnypots and haycorns to celebrate?’ Patton suggested, knowing the cookies would have been set by then.

‘Why don’t you and Virgil go and pick them for us - only one each,’ Logan hastily added with his eyebrows raised at Patton. It was a fair point to make; as much as he and Logan didn’t care much for sweets and would be happy enough to share one cookie between them, Patton probably would have let the boys have several if that’s what they so wished. He was grateful Logan was there to be a sort of filter for his blind generosity sometimes. ‘Meanwhile, I think Roman and I may need to expel a bit of excess energy.’

By him and Roman, Logan obviously only meant the creative side, who was currently shaking and fidgeting quite energetically in his place on the carpet. It was true that a quiet card game was quite a rare activity for the hyperactive boy, as was obvious by the energy overspilling from him.

Patton nodded, holding Virgil closely against his side as he stood from the armchair. ‘Okay, let’s go pick some yummy cookies for everyone, baby!’

As Patton carried Virgil to the kitchen, he heard Logan set up the soundtrack to The Tigger Movie on the speakers. It was followed by the unmistakable sound of Roman launching to his feet and starting to jump and dance around.

‘All right, can you look up for me, Vee?’ They were stood in front of the rack of multicoloured cookies now. Virgil lifted his head from Patton’s shoulder and made a hum of interest when he saw the treats. ‘Good boy. Now you’ve got a really important job: I need you to pick some pretty cookies for everyone!’

Virgil pointed at himself with a surprise in his eyes.

‘Uh-huh,’ Patton nodded, jostling Virgil further onto his hip with one arm as he picked up a plate from the drying rack.

‘Baba,’ Virgil mumbled, and Patton looked down to see he was pointing at a cookie that had gone slightly wrong. It was originally a haycorn but as the cookies all spread in the oven it had been crowded against the corner of the baking tray, becoming misshapen and wonky. It was coated in pink icing.

‘This one?’ Patton lay the plate on the counter and picked up the cookie to hold it in front of Virgil.

‘Wub!’

‘You love it?’ Patton asked.

Virgil shook his head and pointed at it again. ‘Harp!’

‘Oh, you’re right,’ Patton smiled, looking at the cookie in a new light. ‘It does look like a heart! That means it’s a special love cookie.’

‘Beshul?’

‘Very special.’ He pressed a kiss to Virgil’s head. ‘Just like my special little baby. Do you want this one, honey?’

In response, Virgil suddenly pushed at Patton’s hand and the cookie got lodged between Patton’s teeth. He giggled in surprise, pulling the cookie back out of his mouth. ‘You want this to be Papa’s one?’

‘Wub Papa!’

Just as Patton thought there were no more harsh, icy emotions in him to thaw, he positively melted at Virgil’s innocent love confession. He smiled and placed the cookie on the plate. ‘I love you too, baby. I think me and Mama can share that one. Now do you wanna pick one for your brother?’

After some quite serious deliberation, Virgil had decided on a green haycorn for his brother and a yellow hunnypot for himself. Patton carried both his baby and the plate of haycorn cookies back to the living room. The hunnypot cookie was held in Virgil’s fingers as he suckled on the edge of it (Patton had stored his pacifier in the pocket of his cardigan, making a mental note to invest in a pacifier clip for the future). It seemed their bouncing game had tired him out once more, as Virgil’s head promptly dropped back to Patton’s shoulder once his task was complete.

‘I’m putting your cookies on the table, you two,’ Patton announced over the sound of Tigger’s theme song once they had returned to the living room. He swerved himself and Virgil around Roman as he bounced (and Logan who bounced only when Roman looked at him, then stopped once Roman looked away), careful not to bump anyone as he lay the plate on the coffee table.

Patton then settled into the middle of the couch with a sigh, letting Virgil drop to his lap again. Thankfully the music was not overly loud and Virgil seemed unbothered by it as he sucked quite lazily on his cookie.

‘Is that yummy, sweetheart?’

The soggy cookie left Virgil’s lips and was held up to Patton’s. He humoured his baby by pretending to nibble it and humming in enthusiastic approval. ‘Ooh, that’s lovely! Mm-mm, very yummy. Thank you, Vee.’

It satisfied Virgil as he smiled and continued sucking on it himself, nuzzling further into Patton’s hold.

Soon Roman had gotten tired of bouncing and Logan switched the music to set up the next chapter of their Winnie-the-Pooh audiobook, claiming that it was quiet time now.

While Logan was preoccupied, Roman had finished his cookie deftly in three bites (making Patton giggle) then he approached the couch quite shyly. ‘Dad, can I…’

‘You wanna cuddle too?’ Patton asked softly, smiling in encouragement.

The acknowledgement of Roman’s unspoken request was apparently enough permission for him and he practically jumped into the spot beside Patton.

‘Excuse me, I believe you are in my spot,’ Logan announced on his way back to the couch. As Roman made a noise of offence, Logan pulled him up from the seat to collapse into it himself.

‘Hey, I was -’ Roman started whining, but cut himself off with a yelp when Logan swiftly tugged him back down into his own lap. Roman’s cheeks flushed pink and he clammed up.

‘You were saying?’ Logan asked in a lightly teasing tone.

Patton shook his head at their silliness. It was strange that whenever the two showed affection to each other they seemed to want to set it off with jokes and teasing. Though as Patton rocked Virgil in his lap delicately, he realised it wasn’t really for him to judge how they showed affection. As long as his family was happy, he was happy. And it was clear from Virgil’s sleepy hums and Roman’s blushing cheeks bunched in a smile and Logan’s soft chuckles that his family were all perfectly happy.

His gaze dawdled a little on his partner until Logan’s eyes met his and softened, crinkling with a smile. Patton bit his lip and looked down, feeling bizarrely like a shy, lovestruck teenager.

‘Dad, can I have a kiss?’

The question threw Patton a little, not ever having heard such a blunt request for affection from Roman. It was unexpected but made Patton extremely proud of his son for being brave enough to ask.

‘Of course, little prince!’ He leaned up slightly to press a firm kiss to Roman’s cheek, noting a very light stubble there.

‘And now Vee!’ Roman immediately cried once Patton had sunk back to his seat.

Patton chuckled at Roman’s strange antics, but complied, pressing a softer kiss to Virgil’s head. The baby squeaked and buried his cheek further into Patton’s shoulder. Some gingerbread crumbs littered Patton’s cardigan, but he hardly cared.

Then Roman spoke again, ‘Now Mom!’ His voice was all childish innocence, whereas his eyes screamed pure scheming adult.

A short, surprised huff escaped Patton as he looked over to Logan. His cheeks felt warm.

‘Well,’ Logan hummed, his lips pulling into a shy, crooked smile, ‘I suppose you have kissed everyone else.’ He looked down at Patton expectedly. ‘It’s only fair, right?’

Patton thought his face would split in two with how he beamed with a smile. No more hiding, no more sneaking around. Not needing to be told twice, he pushed forward, thankful that Logan leaned down to meet him in a quick kiss. It was entirely chaste, lasting a fraction of the time all of their previous kisses had done, but it lingered in Logan’s blush and Patton’s smile as they pulled back from each other.

The look of absolute calm in Logan’s eyes instilled such an overwhelming feeling of content in him that Patton had to take a slow, measured breath. Everything is going to be all right, Logan’s eyes seemed to whisper. I love you and I believe in you, I believe in us, and I believe in our family. We’re all going to be all right.

And Patton believed that. He knew things weren’t perfect, that they might never be. That Roman would not overcome his insecurities overnight, that Logan was still struggling to balance sternness and playfulness, that Virgil still struggled with asking for help and that they would have to deal with the repercussions of Virgil coming out of this new headspace likely confused. Reluctantly, Paton also acknowledged that there might have been something to his own caregiver headspace that was less than ideal if his jealousy and clinginess earlier were anything to go by.

Still, in that exact moment, everything was fine. They weren’t going anywhere. They would continue to be a family no matter what. They had plenty of time to address these difficult things. Presently, Patton just wanted to appreciate the rest of the evening in peace.

‘Is everyone ready?’ Logan asked, holding his phone up to show that the audiobook was ready to play.

Virgil breathed deeply, still sucking his cookie. Roman nodded and scurried back in Logan’s lap to lean back against him.

When Logan’s questioning gaze turned to him, Patton simply nodded and shuffled on the couch to rest his head on Logan’s shoulder. ‘Ready.’

A gentle kiss from Logan pressed to his head and Patton held Virgil closer with one arm while reaching to hold Roman’s hand with the other. He knew now that the perfect family wasn’t possible. Though being surrounded by the three people he held dear in his heart, Patton also knew that this was the closest anyone could get.

‘Chapter Ten, in which Christopher Robin gives a Pooh Party, and we say good-bye…’

⤛ The End ⤜

oOo

Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! ♡

AO3 link | Bonus chapter

#agere virgil #Little Virgil #agedre roman #little roman #cg logan #cg patton #ts agere #sanders sides agere #little/big series #little/big series fics #little accidents big developments

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rochey1010 · 4 years

Text

Hey guys👋 crack theory coming through:

🦝 This is Eliott's art 🦝

So Lola was photographing the city in E1. She took a lot of pictures. We got a quick glimpse of the Otteli tag (not knowing it was our urbex king, but thinking it was a mish mash of easter eggs for the final season) and then she took the 1st picture with her phone. But it was through the phone and not up close. Lola to this day hasn't posted it on her insta.

There is a contrast between Eliott and Lola and how they express themselves and reflect their world through art:

Eliott uses all art (movies, graffiti, paint, drawings, literature etc.) Lola specifically focuses on photography.

Eliott's art is postive and about hopes, dreams, love and connection. Lola's is negative and about damage, destruction, decay and depression.

Eliott reflects his inner nature through his art. Loving, compassionate, wanting to give and recieve love. Lola reflects her inner nature of self destruction, lacking connection, self loathing, ugliness.

A huge art project is being made by Eliott. It is again an expression of his art out into the world. It is called 'Lux and Obscurus' AKA Latin for 'Light and Darkness'. It is his Uni final graduation assignment and more than likely a variation of his magnum opus POLARIS.

He has joined forces now with Lola to make it, meaning the 2 very different artists with their opposing views are working on the same thing.

Prediction: Eliott is a very obvious mentor for Lola. She listens to him and looks up to him and has begun to reflect his behaviour in how she interacts with others. E.g. going to her blood test appointment, facing her feelings for Maya, maintaining her friendship with La Mif, Not giving in to her vice urges, and her talk with Daphne. We have seen very positive changes with Lola through being friends with Eliott. And Lola has copied him based on how he approaches and deals with Lola e.g. non judgemental, supportive, caring.

Another thing that we are going to see is him mentor her through her art. He will help her change her view of the world and how she expresses her art out into it. The movie is going to be the catalyst for how Lola as an artist operates. The theory right now, as it hasn't happened yet, is that Eliott will once again tie in a specific theme in the season using his art e.g. S3 fresque (love), S5 graffiti mural (friendship) and now S6 movie (possibly connection) the reason i say connection is because there is a theme of Lola building a support network. A community of people rather than just one thing. E.g. family, friends, love, sister, adopted brother. And that her journey is to have her own big crew by the finale. That she has come from total isolation and by the end will be fully insulated in a group of love and support.

But to show that expression of art with Lola is through her insta. It has no people, no connection and is broken and damaged objects. It is cold and clinical (depressive) so at some point we will see her insta change and by the end we will see how far she has come e.g. friends, family and hopeful art.

Right now she hasn't posted that. My theory is that it is too hopeful and positive and Lola hasn't got the capabilities to reflect that right now and she isn't in that healing place. That 1st pic will be what she posts to show her closure. And that 1st pic will be revealed to be Eliott's art bringing everything full circle. Him as a mentor and guide, and how she now sees herself and her world. And again it will tie in Eliott's art and how it reflects the mains journey e.g. S3 falling in love, S5 feeling grounded through friendship in the large cosmos (Arthurs insta was focused on space and vacumns reflecting the loneliness and echoes of silence in being HOH and torn between 2 worlds) and S6 Lola healing and being her own hero. Why do i think this? Because we never get a clear view of what the art piece is, but i have 2 possible answers for what it is:

It's a girl and she is blowing a Dandelion (tying into the motif of the season David posted weeks back. The Dandelion was also the first thing he used to explain S6 to the writers room. The Dandelion symbolism is fragility and healing. Maya has further reinforced this through turning something ugly (scar) into a work of art (Dandelion Tattoo). Lola's purple aesthetic for the season is representative of a bruise. Just like Lola is a walking example of one. Again there are themes of finding the beauty within the pain. A healing journey for our flawed main. The Dandelion comes apart in delicate wisps. The fragility and sensitivity of connection and the many pieces representing the many important things in your life (community/family). The girl is Lola and her connection is the Dandelion. And it means Eliott was guiding her even when she didn't know him, as art is universal.

It's a girl playing music and the notes are flying away. Again you could say the same thing as above, but without the connecting Dandelion motif for the season. But music is beauty and universal too. And Eliott has connection with music and how it can move a person. As he fell in love to Lucas playing Riopy- I love you on the piano. The notes again could be the many facets of connection (community/family)

But Otteli tagged in that area. And so far we've only heard Max say Otteli tags the buildings he's urbexed. But Otteli was in S5 and so was his tag. But Eliott was also there and what did he do? He broke out the sprays and along with the group he used that building to express himself through art and help Arthur unwind and forget his stresses in a safe space. Now the tag in the 2nd picture. It's on a public building, on the outside, and i'll assume it's not a run down hovel urbex building. Meaning that Otteli doesn't just tag urbex buildings but he creates street art and tags too. That street art being the 1st pic. And look at the colour of both buildings with the tag. It's the same. Ergo Eliott created this art that Lola focused on and it will be seen again. And revealed to be Otteli the raccoon urbex street artist.

Screw it, i'm on a roll. 😄 i'm gonna do a post on Eliott and his art with pictures and everything because i love how France show art in the show and how they use Eliott to reflect it. 🤗

#skam france #skamfr #eliott demaury #lola lecomte

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angsty-nerd · 4 years

Text

RNM 2X13 - Echo Download

I've been having a hard time trying to put my feelings about the Season 2 finale into words, so I've been sitting on it for a few days, reading everyone's metas, and trying to organize and separate my actual thinky thoughts from the angst and heartache. That… is not something I am particularly good at. But I'm trying.

I LOVE this show. The writing is a mess. There's plot holes all over the place. The pacing issues alone make me want to tear my hair out. And dear God do I want them to give these characters and relationships (including friendships) the time and space for the big moments to land properly. I don't know if we'll ever get any of that though. And in the meantime, I love these characters and the story, messes and all.

Everyone knows my biggest love is Echo, so I'm gonna start there.

"I don't know what you thought love was gonna be like when we were 17, but it's not all sunsets and horseback rides."

Back in the OG days, there was one consistent criticism I had with the way they wrote Max and Liz's story: the breakups always felt like bullshit. Max breaks up with Liz because she was afraid of some weird alien shit. Liz breaks up with Max because he's "supposed to be with Tess" and meanwhile he's like, "um… no?" We had "it's too dangerous" when it was dangerous regardless. "We're just different" but not in ways that actually mattered.

Echo's breakup mattered. There were issues and they were not dealing with them. Both of them were sneaking around behind the other's back. Neither was being fully honest with the other.

The unwavering honesty was something that stood out to me in S1. Yes, Max was hiding the truth about Rosa's death. But when it came to the present they were almost laughably open with each other. Liz didn't lie about it when Max asked if she told Kyle the truth. When Max asked what she was doing in the lab, she told him the truth. Once Liz knew the truth about Rosa, she knew everything. It seemed like with that truth out there was nothing left to hide. And once they got together they were a team. Immediately. There's a reason that we had a joking headcanon in the Echo world that they had their first kiss and then they were a married couple.

I really think Max's death not only put that to a screeching halt...it also put them on this path to the breakup. Liz has abandonment issues, and Max made a choice, without her, that resulted in him leaving her alone. It wasn't openly discussed in the depth that it should have been this season, but I really do think it was issue #1. Liz loves Max and she was very happy being with him...but after he came back from the dead she didn't trust him to not leave her again. It was an issue simmering under the surface from Episode 7 until the finale. Liz channeled it all into worrying about his heart, but the underlying theme was a resounding "I can't go through that again". Which is deeper than just the worry over a physical health problem. And it pushed Max away from her.

He grew irritable with her. He started hiding things from her and lying to her. The season just ended and I have no idea if he ever told her anything about his memory flashes! He was obsessively trying to learn about his past and never once discussed it with Liz!?? Because he didn't want her to stop him from using the serum? This is a HUGELY personal thing to Max and you can see how much it means to him. He had tears in his eyes while telling Isobel about it. I mean, that puppy dog excitement, and yet, he hides it all whenever Liz is around.

I think it was around episode 8 that we started talking about how badly they needed to have a big fight. Us -- the Echo shippers -- the ones who WANT them to be together -- were BEGGING them to fight. I hate conflict!! But the lack of honestly and the aversions were just building and building and I just wanted it all out on the table.

They finally STARTED having that fight in episode 11, but then Rosa and Isobel interrupted. In retrospect, sweet alien!Jesus, I wish they could have finished then. Maybe they would have gotten the air clear between them. Maybe it would have put them on a path to healing their relationship before the finale. But they didn't, so the breakup happened. And the thing is… that ending. It just kind of haunts me. Liz waiting and hoping for a grand gesture that never comes. I mean, did Max even know WHEN she was leaving!?! He sure didn't seem to have it on his mind when they flashed to him in that scene. And their fight...was all about what Liz was doing and Max not taking care of his heart. They never once touched on what he was trying to learn about his past. I'm pretty certain that Liz left without knowing any of that.

And the thing is… I'm sort of skirting around the meat of the issue here. Because the biggest problem of all of this was Liz violating Max by studying his biology without consent.

I really hate saying that in writing, because, to me, it's kind of the most horrible part of all of this.

Max Evans has been referred to in jest in this fandom as the King of Consent. He was so careful with Liz, tiptoeing around her looking for explicit consent in Season 1 until her desire for him was made abundantly clear. He only ignored the need for consent twice: both times in the S1 finale. Healing Michael's hand and healing Rosa. But those things both happened after he killed Noah. After he was high on his own power. They were very clearly set up as out of character for him.

Liz didn't give him the same respect. Consent does not just apply to sexual situations and healing. It applies to studying too. It applies to Liz USING Max's biology without his permission. It also applies to administering the cure to Steph without her consent. Liz was very, very wrong here.

And the thing is… it sure didn't seem like the writers saw it that way. It also didn't seem like JEANINE saw it that way. There's been a little bit more balanced quotes from them in interviews this week since the finale ended as far as saying that both Max and Liz were wrong, but they sure focused on Liz being incredible and strong before the finale aired.

The part that confuses me though...like, a LOT, is that the narrative was pretty clear that what Liz was doing was Bad and Wrong. She looked guilty. She was lying and hiding things from Max. And the MORAL COMPASS OF THE SHOW, Mr. Kyle Valenti, repeatedly told her she was wrong. Kyle called her out on her ethical violations even as he was thanking her for saving Steph.

Genoryx was set up as being bad. Liz herself refused to go work for them in the flashbacks because they were morally sketchy. Although, maybe that's the draw now that she is all full of ethical violations. Sigh.

I'm gonna leave this topic now, but I'll encourage you to go read @latessitrice's meta on the subject here:

Okay...so to sum this up? The breakup was coming. We knew it was coming. But it still hurt my heart so much. I haven't seen anyone gif Jeanine's performance of the "I am in love with you. And I hate that right now." But the delivery of that line broke me.

That being said...do I see it being over? Let's give that a resounding FUCK, NO. I mean, sure, they fought. And it hurt. And Liz ran away. Without saying goodbye. And all of that SHATTERED ME.

But...they still love each other even if they both have a lot to work on individually. That’s part of what MADE it so hard.

I am actually stoked for season 3. Two Maxes? All of the delicious angst once Liz gets home. Liz not knowing there's two Maxes and meeting Jones first and not knowing who he is and being vulnerable to his mindfuckery? Or just his fuckery in general. Whatever. I am here for it.

I am here for Liz discovering that something about Genoryx is Not Right. I'm here for her living a normal life and getting drawn back into the madness. I'm here for Max getting more powerful and more alieny under Jones's guidance. And I am here for what I am certain will be an epic reunion once they are back together again.

As a last more positive comment...I’m stoked that we get to have both Max and Liz alive and facing interesting potential storylines this hiatus. All I wanted from this finale, in truth, was to leave the characters in a place that inspired me to want to write for them for the next year plus or however long this COVID-extended hiatus ends up being. And I am so excited for that.

And I have talked enough now that I will go ahead and post this and leave this post as my Echo Takeaways from the finale. I'll be back again with some more gen/bigger picture thoughts later.

#roswell new mexico #rnm season 2 #rnm echo #max&liz #max evans #liz ortecho #ogroswell #feeling the feels #ouch my heart #rnm echo meta #my meta

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foreverwayward · 4 years

Text

“Someone Like You” Ch. 7

Dean x Reader

Warnings: language, angst, super fluff

Word Count: 1579

SOMEONE LIKE YOU MASTERLIST

Summary: this is the story of Dean, Sam and Y/N. As they grew, a friendship as children would bloom into something that would last a lifetime. But, its Dean who realized things can get confusing when you’re in love with your best friend.

April 2, 2002

It had been nearly two weeks since Sam had left for Stanford. John was still in the wind, leaving every call unanswered, even from Max. He had completely disappeared for the time being.

The days seemed to bleed together and time no longer felt as if it mattered. Some days, Dean would be too hurt or broken to do much of anything, but the others were filled with laughter and moments he would remember the rest of his life.

Y/N had decided to stay with Dean until things began to make more sense. She knew he was never meant to be on his own and that he needed someone to get him through.

Max had already come and gone to take back his truck, needing to get back on the job. So, the two were left stranded at the Flamingo Lodge. The four walls of their room, the local diner, a movie rental shop, and the liquor store down the street had become their routine. Y/N and Dean did everything they could to kill the time and to forget that the world existed outside their door.

It was also the first time the two had ever spent so much time alone. Whatever bond they had before those two weeks paled in comparison to the one they were finding in their days at the lodge.

The ‘73 Western ‘Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid’ played on the tv in the background as Y/N and Dean sat on the bed. Empty beer bottles and containers that once held whiskey were scattered randomly through the room. It was as if they were able to finally behave their own age, young and careless for the first time.

Dean chuckled proudly as he laid his hand of cards out on the unmade sheets. “Read ‘em and weep, Y/N/N--four of a kind.”

“Oh no,” she feigned with a faked pout. “I guess that means you win…”

Laughing victoriously, Dean then locked his fingers behind his head as he relaxed backward. “I told ya, shouldn’t have bet against the king.”

“The king?” Y/N asked. She then placed her cards out in front of him. “Well, tell the king to take a fuckin’ seat because the queen just served a royal flush.” When Dean looked down in shock, Y/N got up from the bed to begin a ridiculous victory dance. “You...owe...me...dinner…” she sang. “Uh-huh!”

The grin that took over Dean’s face was immense and he threw up his hands. “Alright, alright. You win. I surrender.”

She stopped and pointed at him playfully. “Smart choice, Winchester.”

Dean groaned with a stretch as he got up. “I’m gonna go take a shower because I am fuckin’ ripe, and then...I’ll take you out for dinner.”

“And dessert.”

“And dessert,” he laughed as he headed for the bathroom.

Dean went to turn on the shower but turned at the sound of singing. As the water rained down on the other side of the shower curtain, Dean peered out from the cracked door.

Y/N was singing along to the movie’s song ‘Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door’ as she cleaned up their messes around the room, swaying to the music.

He scoffed with a laugh under his breath and just watched her. If Dean had ever been unsure of his feelings about her before, there was no room for doubt anymore. She was the only woman he had ever truly loved.

Dean smiled so deeply that he felt his chest grow warm. Without her, he knew he wouldn’t have made it through everything that had happened with his family.

And with that thought, he disappeared into the bathroom to finally take his shower.

Not long later, Y/N sat on the bed as she put on her shoes. “Dean! I’m starving!”

“Don’t rush me, woman!” he yelled in a teasing tone.

She snickered as she got up to throw on her jacket. “I got your coat,” she said loudly while picking it up and folding it over her arm.

As she did, Dean’s wallet fell from his pocket. Y/N dipped down to pick it up and noticed a small, frayed strand coming from inside the tired leather. She opened the wallet and her heart stopped. There, tucked away for safekeeping, was an old and faded piece of string that had once been knotted.

Y/N gently took the string into her hands with her mouth somewhat agape in shock.

Dean came out from the bathroom as he was buttoning up his plaid shirt. “Alright, so are we eating at the diner or doing take out? ‘Cause you owe me another round of poker.” He froze in his tracks seeing what she had found and swallowed hard.

Turning to him, she asked, “this isn’t…”

“Uh--” Dean cleared his throat. “It’s, uh--”

She shook her head in disbelief with an overwhelming smile. “Is this...is this the bracelet I gave you when we were kids?”

Feeling himself growing nauseous, his hands shaking with nerves, Dean didn’t know what to say. He was beyond embarrassed. “Yeah,” he answered cooly.

Y/N scoffed. “I can’t believe you still have this.”

“Yeah, well, it’s--it’s no big deal. When it finally snapped after wearing it for so long,” Dean admitted with a nervous smile, “I guess I just never really wanted to get rid of it. I know--I know it’s really stupid.” Trying to laugh it off, Dean reached out a hand as if asking her to give it back. She did just that and he looked down at the old string with affection. “I dunno. Guess it just meant a lot to me.”

Again, Dean cleared his throat before tucking his treasure back into his wallet and returning it to its place in his coat.

“Dean…” Y/N said softly. When he turned to her, she smirked. “Hold on.” She went to her bag and pulled out a leather bound journal. It was visibly cracked at the binding showing its constant use. The book was Y/N’s journal and she flipped to the center before pulling out a piece of string from among her drawings, scribbles, and deepest secrets. When she put the journal down, she looked over to Dean and shrugged innocently.

He smiled, practically glowing. “Is that the one I gave you on my 18th birthday?”

“Mm-hmm…’dunno. Guess it just meant a lot to me’.”

The room went quiet as Y/N lovingly placed the old bracelet back into its safe place. When she looked back at Dean, he was slowly walking towards her, closing the space between them.

Dean almost audibly gulped as he stood close enough to smell her perfume. He peered down at her and hesitated before reaching to take her hands in his, his fingers playing with Y/N’s. It took all of his courage to meet her gaze.

“I, uh--” Dean laughed to himself. “God, I have no idea what I’m doing...”

As she waited for what he was struggling to say, Y/N felt her heart begin to pound.

“You...you mean more to me than I could ever tell you, Y/N/N. And, honestly? You’ve been one of the best parts of my life.”

With tears in her eyes, Y/N smiled as she sniffled. “Mine too.”

Dean leaned forward and their foreheads pressed together as they closed their eyes and inhaled deeply. He bit his lip. “I don’t wanna ruin this. I--I can’t ruin this.”

Y/N pulled away to look up at him and put a gentle hand on his cheek. Remembering what Max had said, she uttered, “we couldn’t if we tried.”

Mustering every ounce of strength he had, Dean’s face fell as he finally unburdened himself of his deepest secret. “I love you, Y/N. And I don’t mean in a ‘kid-best friend-love’ kinda way. I mean a ‘heart-stopping...can’t-live-without-you’ kinda way.” Dean shrugged with a small smirk. “Pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since I was nine-years-old.” Tucking her hair behind her ear and away from her face, he looked into Y/N’s eyes. “Now, I have no idea how you feel about me, but, I’m done pretending that I don’t think of you every single day, or that I don’t miss you so much when we’re apart that it’s like--like I can’t breathe again until I’m with you.”

A tear fell down Y/N’s smiling face and Dean wiped it away with a loving thumb.

“But, if you don’t feel the same, I understand, and I--I don’t know how I could live without you in my life. So, I’ll do whatever I have to to make sure I don’t lose the best thing I’ve ever had.”

Still quiet, her stomach twisting with anticipation, Y/N exhaled a nervous breath.

“Okay, but you gotta say something 'cause I’m losin’ my fuckin’ mind over here,” Dean chuckled anxiously.

Y/N stared into Dean’s eager and desperate eyes until the pull between them was enough to suck the air from her chest. She took the sides of his face and tilted up onto her toes to bring her lips to his. A release of love like neither had ever known poured through a kiss that had quietly waited for thirteen years. The two had imagined that moment countless times, but the real thing made them feel more alive than anything they’d ever survived as hunters--it was like a raging fire that consumed them both.

As their kiss intensified, Dean’s face scrunched with emotion and passion as he held her, his fingers burying themselves into her hair.

Panting and trembling, they pulled away from each other, still desperate for more.

Y/N sighed. “I love you too.”

As Dean held onto to her waist, never looked away from her eyes, he took a nervous breath. “...really?”

Y/N’s fingers played with the hair on the back of his neck as she silently giggled. She bit her lip as she stared back at him, realizing that Max was right and that there was no denying the loved they shared. Y/N knew that in that moment, that she held her whole world in her arms--she had finally found home.

“It was always you, Dean.”

------

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theateared · 4 years

Text

I Almost Feel Bad For You. ❜

Summary: Say what you will about Edgar Strahv, but he has always been a good father.

He charged into his father’s room at the early hour of six, a tray in his hands and a handmade card tucked under his arm. Brielle had promised him the night before that she would help him make breakfast for Edgar for Father’s Day if he went to bed, and the child had been all too happy to sleep that night.

“Daddy, daddy!”

He watched as the man stirred, a low groan released from his throat as he rolled over onto his back. His eyes slowly cracked open, settling on his son’s excited face. He was beaming from ear to ear, all but bouncing in place as he waited for him to sit up.

“Urgh…” His back cracked as he sat up straight, a quiet sound let out as the tension in his joints unwound. “Gus…?” A glance at the clock earned a hint of frustration, a deep sigh barely held back. “It’s six in the morning.”

He fell quiet as the boy put the tray he was holding onto his lap. On it was a plate with a single extremely burnt piece of toast and a glass of starfruit juice. He’d forgotten all about the day, and as Augustus held up the card for him to take, it returned to him all at once. Oh right… it’s Father’s Day. Already? God, where has this year gone?

“For you!” Augustus exclaimed, arms thrown above his head. He was still in his pinstripe pyjamas, bedhead at the max. He barely contained a squeal when his dad bit into the toast he’d brought for him, not thinking of it when he immediately went for the juice afterwards.

I love you, but God this toast is awful.

Edgar heard a tiny splutter of laughter from the doorway, glancing over to see his wife barely concealing a smile behind her hand. Despite the circumstances, he couldn’t find it in him to be angry. Try as he might, he just couldn’t see the flaws in his beloved family.

He ate the toast as quickly as he could. It was difficult to suppress the need to grimace every time he chewed, though he managed for the sake of his son’s feelings. Augustus was such a sweet child… he could never bring himself to hurt him. It killed him enough already when he had to say no to having a pet kayag*. The juice was sweet and cool; a refreshing break from the cardboard that he’d just been gnawing through.

Looking down at him when he was through, Edgar knew that he wanted to jump up onto the bed and cuddle. He moved the tray aside, and like clockwork, Augustus struggled his way up the side of his parents’ king size bed, wriggling like a worm until he could crawl into his father’s lap. Once there, he wrapped his arms around his neck and planted a big kiss on his cheek.

“Happy Father’s Day, daddy. I love you.”

“I love you too, Gusty. Thank you for breakfast,” Edgar replied, wrapping his arms tightly around his son. In that moment, there was nothing he loved more in all of the world. Even his wife faded into the background.

“Maybe I should make you breakfast every morning?”

“Oh, no!” He watched as Augustus pulled away, tipping his head with confusion. Hurriedly, Edgar continued: “Ah-- save it for… special occasions, yes?”

Brielle was snorting again.

The boy considered it, then nodded again. “Look at your card!”

Feeling beside him, Edgar slipped the piece of paper folded in two into his hand, bringing it close to his face. From the nightstand, his reading glasses were retrieved. On it was a crude drawing of their family; Edgar stood in the middle, receiving a kiss from both his wife and his son, one on each cheek, a huge heart drawn over their heads. It made him smile slowly, paper flipped open to read the scribbled text. Though Augustus’ handwriting was quite poor, the man could tell that he had tried his best to make it legible. It was less shaky than normal, some semblance of control in every spaced out letter.

To Daddy,

Thank you for flying kites with me and reading stories and bringing home money. You’re the bestest most hardworkingest daddy in all of Huron all of the WORLD! I love you!

Love, Augustus.

At this point, Edgar was grinning like a fool. It was difficult to evoke a genuine smile from him, especially these days. Work was wearing him so thin, and his patience had suffered for it. He had always been a man that appreciated his space regardless, though nowadays he needed a little more. Not today, though… not today.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest little poet?” Edgar asked fondly, standing the card up on his nightstand. It was difficult to keep it in place, the paper threatening to flutter to the ground with every tiny motion that was made. “It’s wonderful. I love it.”

The words gave the boy a sense of elation, his face burying into his father’s neck once more. They hugged for a while before Augustus pulled away with a gasp. 6:27. All too suddenly, he leapt from Edgar’s lap, almost tripping over his own feet.

“I’m gonna miss Passcode!*” he cried, charging towards the door.

“Oh, you’re not washing the plate for your daddy too?” Edgar asked, picking up the tray. He watched as his son stared up at him with big eyes, torn between running away and doing what he thought the man wanted him to do. He was relieved to have Edgar chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m just teasing you, kid. Go on.”

The boy laughed as he barrelled downstairs. Soon enough, both parents could hear the television set being flicked on, channel dial messed with before they heard the familiar theme music. Softly, Brielle closed the door, biting back a smile.

“I almost feel bad for you…” she admitted, glancing at his plate before laughing quietly to herself. “We made five pieces in total and that was the least burnt one. I tried to help but he said he needed to do it himself, otherwise it wasn’t a ‘’true Father’s Day present’’.”

Edgar snickered, running a hand through his hair. Though he hadn’t been stoked to wake up so early, he felt blessed by his family. They’re such wonderful people. They love me so much. I don’t know what I’d do without them.

The man cracked a smirk. “If you feel sooo bad for me, how about you come and make it better…?”

Brielle’s lips pursed with amusement, staring him down for a few seconds before she began to saunter slowly towards him. “I said almost,” she purred as she crawled from the bottom of the bed and into his lap, rejoicing in the feel of his hands splaying across her back.

If he was concerned by the technicality, he didn’t show it when she kissed him.

#🞮 — if i could i'd trade my heart for a second brain. ❜ ( edgar. )#☆ — i never promised you your dream boy. ❜ ( main. )#☆ — i'm just here to destroy. ❜ ( ic. )#drabble *#1* kayags are just the equivalent of dogs really #2* passcode is similar to something like pokemon/digimon etc #/ THIS IS REALLY FUCKING CUTE AND SWEET I IMPLORE U TO READ IT TBH #IT FOCUSES ON EDGAR'S PAST LIFE AND ALL THAT SWEET JAZZ WAH

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pug-bitch · 5 years

Text

That’s not why I’m going (28)

Be cool

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive, and a VERY steamy scene. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18.

Word count: 4,350 (let me know if the ‘keep reading’ cutoff isn’t working well!)

Notes: This picks up basically where we left off, during the last night in the cabin, starting with Amara’s POV. This chapter is a little slow, but it sets up several things that will be important for what will happen next!

*****

Amara had gone back to the kitchen for the umpteenth time to make more margaritas. And to think she’d made fun of Drake for buying so much booze.

Dinner had been amazing, Drake truly hadn’t lied about his grilling skills. Even Hana, who was always poised and polite, had asked for thirds, and downed one burger and two hot dogs. Olivia had begrudgingly agreed that the mushrooms and leeks on top of the burgers were a nice touch.

Armed with two pitchers of margarita and her pineapple and coconut cake on a tray, Amara made her triumphant entrance in the backyard. As everyone cheered for her to fill up their glasses, she caught herself worrying for their livers, but promptly remembered that, if everything goes to shit tomorrow at Penelope’s estate, this may be their last fun night, so cirrhosis be damned.

‘Amara! This cake is heavenly,’ Hana gasps.

‘Oh, honey, you don’t have to say that,’ Amara responds. ‘I’m not the best cook--’

‘Shut up, Suarez, and give me another slice,’ Olivia cut her off.

‘Guys,’ Max says, his mouth full of cake, ‘let’s continue, it was Liv’s turn to dig into the bowl.’

They had started a game of Truth or Truth, for which they had written deep questions for one another on little pieces of paper, and mixed them in a bowl. Olivia rolls her eyes but picks up a paper.

‘When was the last time you were in love,’ she reads.

‘Oh, that’s my question!’ Hana beams.

‘Kid, you know we all have to answer, right?’ Olivia says. ‘You included.’

Hana blushes. ‘Oh, I didn’t realize that.’

‘I’ll go!’ Max says enthusiastically. ‘Drake, you remember Gianni, right?’

Drake nods, ‘I fucking loved that guy. He was hilarious.’

‘Yeah,’ Max says wistfully. ‘I thought we were more serious than he did. He ended up going back to Italy and breaking my heart.’

‘Max, I’m sorry, that sucks,’ Amara says as she reaches to hug him.

‘Your turn, Suarez,’ Olivia interrupts.

Amara blushes. She feels like a schoolgirl playing Spin the bottle. Are they really gonna make her say it in front of everyone? ‘Guys… you know.’

‘Ooooooh,’ Max teases, ‘no we don’t!’

Amara throws her hands up. ‘Well, obviously it’s Drake. Last time I was in love is now, with Drake. Happy?’

Drake reaches for her cheek and brings her face to his. Their mouths crash together in a sweet, yet urgent kiss.

‘Same answer for me, bitches,’ Drake slurs. ‘My last time is also now, with Amara.’

She knows he’s drunk. When else has he called anyone ‘bitches’ as a term of endearment? But then again, she’s drunk too, and so blissfully happy that she couldn’t care any less.

‘Alright, you guys are fucking gross,’ Liv says, waving her hands at them as if to shoo them. ‘Lee, your turn.’

Hana blushes again, and takes a big sip of her margarita. ‘Damn, Amara, these drinks are good. Thank you for making them strong. Well, you guys remember the infamous photo, right?’ Everyone nods, and she continues. ‘I told some of you that this woman, Caroline, was kinda...the one who got away. We were together at Oxford. After graduating, I had to go back to China, or, to be more exact, I didn’t have the guts to stay in the UK and defy my parents. So, I broke up with her, said I wasn’t ready, right before our third anniversary. She had booked us a trip to New York as a surprise, which I found out after, through a mutual friend. In any case, I didn’t break up with her for lack of love. More like...for lack of courage.’

Max holds out his arms and Hana pulls him into a hug. ‘Hana, babe, there’s nothing harder than coming out to tough parents. You didn’t lack courage, it was simply not the right time!’

‘Exactly,’ Amara chimes in, ‘look at how brave you were in front of the whole court the other day. A fucking champ! Because now is your time.’

‘You think?’ Hana sniffles. ‘I mean, I basically didn’t have a choice…’

‘Yes you did,’ Amara continues. ‘You could have denied it, said that it was a fake picture, or said it was a joke among friends. But you took the high road, and we’re so proud of you.’

‘Ok, this game took a turn,’ Liv sighs. ‘I didn’t think it would end in a group hug.’

‘Well then,’ Max replies, ‘you go ahead, Liv, answer the question.’

Olivia quickly glances at Amara, who gives her an encouraging smile. For a split second, Amara thinks she’s gonna be truthful and open up about her feelings. But, after a brief pause, she says ‘Nope. No heart, remember? Icy Nevrakis bitch here. Nothing to see. Next!’

*****

‘Babe, we’ll clean up in the morning,’ Drake whispers in her ears, his arms draped around her waist as she does some dishes.

‘I want to help,’ she says, leaning into his embrace, ‘I know you have to get up early, to go to the grocery store and get ready for Liam and Bertrand coming over.’

He kisses her neck. ‘I don’t mind. I like it. Besides, you made all of the drinks all night long, which was by far the biggest job of all, given this crowd.’

She chuckles. The sound of her laugh makes his heart full. He hates to admit it, but the glowing heart imagery from Jane the Virgin is spot on.

She says, ‘I know you like entertaining, but I don’t mind doing a few dishes. It’s not even that late. Please, let me help.’

He takes a kitchen rag. ‘Alright, then I’m gonna do the drying. Team work, right?’

*****

Olivia turned on her phone for the first time for a few hours. After what happened with it, the mere thought of sending a text filled her with dread, but she had to check her email at least, in case something was needed from her at Lythikos.

She plops down on the bed, and unzips her dress while her phone turns on. It’s strange to be here, at the Walker cabin, but especially in Savannah’s room. Maxwell and Hana had called the Master bedroom, which had a king bed. They had rightfully assumed that Liv would rather cut off her own arm than share her bed with either of them. But still, in here, she feels like she is sharing it with Little Savannah Walker, whose spirit is all around.

She wonders if she had contributed, even minimally, to sending her away. She’d never been very nice to her, never welcoming. But then again, it’s not her job to hang out with the Kingsguard’s offspring. She had enough on her hands as a child, after all.

Her phone buzzes, pulling her out of her daydream.

I had a good time yesterday. I decided to come to Portavira after all, so I’ll see you tomorrow?

Rashad. Damn, she hates how her heart jumped like an idiot as she read his name on the screen. Why? It’s stupid. He’s just being nice.

She takes off her dress and gets into a tank top and shorts, before heading to the bathroom.

She’s not answering that text.

*****

‘Wow, you look hot,’ Drake whispers as he sees Amara come out of the bathroom in her new, emerald green nightie.

‘Oh, this old thing?’ she smirks. ‘Just kidding, it’s brand new. I got it at the lingerie store the other day with Hana.’

Drake pulls her into bed with him, and kisses her urgently. ‘How come I’ve never seen it?’

‘Well, Walker, as I recall, you didn’t exactly give me time to wear anything last night.’

He chuckles as he plants a trail of kisses from her lips down to her collarbone. ‘Heh. I guess you’re right. What can I say, I can’t resist you, Suarez.’

‘Mmmm, ditto. Don’t stop.’

He has no intention to stop. His mouth runs all over her chest, until he’s kissed every inch. He pays special attention to her nipples, which get harder and harder under his tongue. Soon enough, off comes the sexy nightie, to make more space for Drake to kiss her all over. On his way down, he kisses her stomach, until he reaches between her legs, where he’s been aching to go, all night long. Amara moans in anticipation as Drake pauses before putting his lips on her core. He teases her with his tongue, softly at first, then more deeply.

Her moans get louder and louder until she catches herself and remembers they are no longer alone in the house. Somehow, her muffled grunts turn him on even more. His only mission tonight is to make her come, and judging from her increasingly intense breathing, it becomes obvious that he’s on the right track.

As Amara orgasms, she lets out a barely muffled low groan, which Drake is pretty sure everyone in the house heard. But he doesn’t give a shit. Amara catches her breath, and whispers, ‘Wow, Walker...you got game.’

He smirks, ‘I fucking love taking care of you.’

She pulls him into a kiss, and he shivers as his hard cock touches her naked body. She reaches down and starts stroking it slowly, drawing groans from Drake. ‘Fuck me, Walker,’ she whispers in his ear.

*****

Amara opens her eyes, awakened by Drake’s soft kisses on her forehead. ‘H--hey,’ she mumbles.

‘Oh baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’

She smiles and kisses him. ‘It’s ok. I need to take a shower and move my stuff anyways.’

Drake nods, stroking her hair. ‘Wanna join me in the shower?’

She acquiesces enthusiastically.

After showering, she stands in a towel in front of the mirror, brushing her rebellious curls and spraying rose water on her face. Drake gets into his jeans as quickly as he can and kisses her lips. ‘I’m gonna run to the supermarket to buy lunch before everyone else wakes up. I’ll see you later? I’ll bring croissants back for you guys, so don’t make anything, ok?’

‘You’re the best, thank you!’

He really is. Amara hopes that things don’t change too much from the bliss that she’s been feeling for the past two days, but she doubts her wish will come true. She already feels stressed out about Liam’s upcoming visit, and it’s not even an official courtly one. She’s already scanning the cabin in her head, to make sure nothing incriminating lies anywhere.

Once dressed in a casual outfit --light-wash skinny jeans and a yellow blouse--, Amara goes downstairs and puts the coffee pot on. Hana is already in the backyard, reading a novel.

‘Hi Amara!’ she waves.

‘Hey hun, I’m making coffee. Want some?’

‘Sure,’ Hana replies enthusiastically. ‘I saw Drake leave a while ago, he’ll be back with breakfast.’

Amara waits until the coffee has brewed and pours two cups, with a dash of milk.

‘Thanks,’ Hana says. ‘Did you pack? You should put your stuff in the master, we’ll say you slept with me, and Max on the couch.’

Amara nods. She loves that Hana has thought of everything. ‘Thank you. I was gonna ask if you mind lying a little…’

‘Of course not. We don’t want to raise suspicions, not now.’

Amara takes a big sip, pauses a bit, and says, ‘Hana, do you think we’re fooling ourselves? Liv is right, Liam will be furious however we announce it.’

Hana gives her a reassuring smile, and somehow, Amara already feels soothed. ‘Liv is hurting right now, she’s lost and she sees everything in a negative light. I think you and Drake are doing what you can. If the timing is right, if you wait until Liam has proposed to someone, and has moved on, you could always fudge the details and say you guys fell in love after the Decision Ball.’

‘You’re right. But...what if we don’t pull it off? What if someone rats us out before that?’

‘I understand the fear, believe me. Given everything that’s happened, it’s legitimate. But you can’t live in fear, honey. You’ve already lived the past two years punishing yourself for something you didn’t cause. You need to let yourself be happy.’

Amara swallows hard. She and Hana had many heart-to-hearts in the past few weeks, ever since she’d told her all about Sergio. Hana had been an excellent listener, and an even better hugger, but had never expressed any judgment or given her opinion on Amara’s past. This was the first time she had said something like that. ‘Funny,’ Amara smiles, ‘you’re not the only one who’s been telling me this, lately. My dad, Drake, Max, even Liv…’

Hana smirks, ‘Well maybe we’re all onto something. Obviously, you can’t announce your relationship to everyone right now. Liam and Drake’s friendship would not survive. But even in secret, for now, maybe you could find a way to stop feeling guilty. To stop fearing.’

‘Good Lord, woman,’ Amara whispers, ‘you’re so wise. It’s exhausting, really.’

Hana laughs heartily. ‘Oh well, I try, but I can only apply my wisdom to other people’s problems.’

Amara grabs her friend’s hand. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday, about Caroline. You should reach out to her. Explain to her what you said to us, about timing, about being ready. Maybe she’ll understand. It’s worth a shot, right?’

Hana smiles wistfully. ‘It definitely is.’

‘Morning my little blossoms!’ Maxwell kisses Hana’s and Amara’s cheeks. ‘How did you sleep?’

‘Great,’ Amara says. ‘Help yourself to coffee, Max, there’s plenty. Has anyone seen Olivia?’

Max shakes his head, all the while pouring himself a cup, to which he adds about four spoonfuls of sugar. ‘No, not yet. Hope she’s alright.’

As if on cue, Olivia comes down the stairs, looking more relaxed than the day before. ‘Morning guys,’ she says softly.

‘Hey Liv, how did you sleep?’ Max asks.

‘I um…’ she scratches her head and grabs a cup of coffee. ‘I actually slept really well. I’m sure it was Suarez’s margaritas.’

‘Or it could be the peace and quiet,’ Amara chimes in.

‘Yeah yeah, nature is fucking adorable,’ Liv replies.

*****

All five of them are still sitting outside, enjoying their coffee and croissants, in the sun. Drake bought something easy for lunch, he will just have to assemble the salad, and grill the steaks at the last minute. They will have ice cream for dessert.

The croissants he brought back were a hit, although he wishes he had had more time to make them himself. On second thought, he is glad he spent that time in bed and in the shower with Amara instead.

There is a knock on the door, and when Drake looks at his watch, he sees that it’s only eleven. Could it be Liam already? ‘I’ll get it,’ he says before getting up.

‘Good morning, Drake,’ Bertrand says, an awkward smile on his face.

‘Hi Bertrand, welcome!’ Drake responds, opening his arms for a hug.

Bertrand, visibly taken aback by the gesture, hesitates before walking into Drake’s hug. ‘Thank you for having me. I hope I’m not too early, I just, um…’

‘No, not at all, come have a coffee with us, we’re outside.’

He walks in, and Drake notices that he is wearing a black shirt, and a vest with little embroidered horses on it. Drake has to fight a smile. Bertrand probably thought that coming to the countryside warranted a horse-themed outfit. Thankfully, he didn’t break out the riding boots, just some boat shoes.

‘Hello everyone,’ Bertrand says awkwardly. It occurs to Drake that he had never really been included in any of their private get-togethers, besides the Beaumont Bashes. Drake feels bad. Although he doesn’t know it yet, this man is the father of his nephew, they should be closer.

‘Hi Bertrand, good to see you!’ Amara says, as she gets up and gives him a hug.

‘Oh, um, hello, yes, um, good to see you too, Amara,’ he mumbles, patting her back like he’s trying to burp her.

‘Do you take milk or sugar?’ Hana asks.

‘Um, no, I take it black, thank you, Hana, you’re very kind.’ He takes the cup. ‘Before we sit down, I wanted to make sure that everything is in order. I mean um, Amara, did you think of removing all evidence that um… that you were staying…’ He rubs his neck, obviously unsure of how to say what he wants to say in an appropriate manner.

Amara sees his struggle and interrupts. ‘Yes, thank you for thinking of this, Bertrand. I removed my belongings from Drake’s room and transferred them to Hana’s. Also, I wanted to apologize. For keeping you in the dark.’

He waves her off. ‘Please. There was a clear conflict of interest. You couldn’t possibly tell me, when I was so eager to push you on Prince Liam. But um… for what it’s worth, I am happy for you both. Love is precious and should not be apologized for.’

Drake’s eyes widen. Did Bertrand just say something adorable? Well fuck. ‘Thanks, man, we appreciate it. We heard you had our backs yesterday, thank you for that too.’

‘Oh,’ Bertrand mumbles again, ‘it was nothing.’

*****

Liam looks at his watch. He’ll be right on time for lunch at Drake’s. He decided to drive himself, to clear his head. Bastien had begged him not to, but he needed to be alone on this drive. He needed to feel normal.

Nothing feels normal. His best friend is acting weird and distant --although he hopes that today’s lunch will reinstate things. Olivia is banging her bodyguard and refusing to talk to him. Amara, the woman he’d been dreaming of, has made it clear she does not want him. Madeleine keeps pushing and pushing.

He thinks back of their encounter, just this morning, in the gardens. He was taking a stroll, coffee in hand, before leaving for Portavira, and she was obviously looking for him. After they exchanged pleasantries, she squeezed his arm, and lingered for a little too long. Then, like clockwork, his father called him into his study and asked him to give Madeleine a chance. He can bet that Madeleine went crying to her aunt Regina as soon as Liam was dismissive of her. According to Constantine, she is the best contender and Liam has not even considered her.

His eyes on the road, his hands firmly on the steering wheel, Liam tries to clear his head. It feels good to drive himself. But really, he can’t relax, not properly anyways. All he can think of is how weak his father looked, this morning, in his study. So small in his chair. Liam wonders how much weight he’s lost. How much time he has left.

He can’t stop thinking about what his father told him. Consider the good of Cordonia. Don’t give the kingdom to a stranger, or to a hotheaded woman who fornicates with the help. The kingdom needs stability, and Madeleine is stable.

Is she, though? What she pulled the other night in his study was definitely a little crazy. Leo has warned him that she is way more harmful than she looks.

What are his options? Olivia is shutting him out and banging other people. Amara says she doesn’t love him, but maybe she could learn to? Or, maybe she could just be his companion, and… No, she won’t accept. He’s pretty sure she wouldn’t accept.

But then what, at the end of the week he chooses someone, and he never sees Amara again? That’s no good either. There has to be a solution.

‘Shit,’ he swerves, almost hitting a hedgehog trying to cross the road. Damn, he thinks. He really is distracted.

There’s still Kiara and Penelope. Are they contenders? Not sure if Penelope has it in her to be queen. Kiara, he sees her as more of a noblewoman doubled as a diplomat. He would definitely get her to be a part of his council, but marry her? No. His father is not a fan either, he doesn’t think she’s a leader.

‘This is a clusterfuck,’ he mumbles to himself. In five days, the Decision Ball will be upon him, and he is very far from having made a decision.

He turns onto the small road leading up to the cabin. He hasn’t been here in a while. Last time was months ago, when he needed to unplug after his brother abdicated. Drake had offered to have a weekend at the cabin together, just them guys. Max had joined for one evening. That was probably Liam’s last memory of normalcy.

Here he is, pulling up to the cabin. He parks near Bertrand’s car and lets himself out of his own. From the backseat, he grabs the apple pie and white wine bottle that he brought despite Drake’s request not to bring anything.

He knocks, weirdly anxious.

‘Hey,’ Drake says, opening the door. ‘I told you not to bring anything.’

He wraps him in a bear hug, and Liam lets out an imperceptible sigh of relief. ‘You knew I would.’

‘Heh, I did. Come on in. Everyone’s here already.’

And here they are. The Beaumonts, Hana, Liv, and Amara, all out in the backyard, joking around and having coffee.

‘Liam!’ Hana notices him. ‘So good to see you!’

She approaches him and gives him a warm hug. Liam is grateful for the enthusiasm. Everyone else greets him, Bertrand with a handshake, Max with a huge hug, and Amara with a quick one. Upon touching her skin, Liam’s heart flutters. He’ll have to shut it down really quickly if he doesn’t want to make everything awkward.

Only Liv has not gotten up from her chair outside. ‘Liv, hi, how are you?’ Liam risks.

‘Liam. I’m good, how are you?’

Her tone is cold as ice. Still no improvement from their last interaction. She’s not even meeting his eye. Is she embarrassed about the bodyguard? Is she angry with him for not standing up for her more? He has no idea. What he sees is resentment, and he has never seen that from her before.

‘Alright,’ Drake says, ‘let’s have some food!’

*****

Amara is pleasantly surprised with the free-flowing conversation. She thought Liam’s arrival would put a damper on things, and it has, to some extent, but his company is pleasant today, he’s not being weird, except for when she hugged him hello and he lingered. But if that’s her only problem, she’ll be fine.

She has to watch herself, though. Be cool, Suarez, she thinks. She made a point to sit farther from Drake than she usually does. She is between Hana and Maxwell, which feels natural, but also prevents her from reflexively taking Drake’s hand for everyone to see.

They try not to interact too much, but still let themselves joke around with each other in reaction to Max’s antics, or Liv’s badassery. It feels restrained, but natural nonetheless. Liam knows they’re ‘friends,’ he probably even thinks they’re close, especially since Drake defended her against Tariq and stood up for her when Liam was inappropriate.

‘Oh, so you were all here last night?’ Liam asks, when Drake makes a reference to last night’s dinner.

‘Yeah,’ Max quickly responds, ‘except for Bertrand who had business to conduct. But I took Hana, Amara and Liv here. It seemed like a good opportunity to blow off steam and hang out!’

Amara holds her breath. She can see on Liam’s face that he has FOMO. Before he arrived, they agreed that they wouldn’t hide that they’d all spent the night, especially since they’d have to take their luggage back and bring it to Penelope’s estate. But still, his reaction was somewhat worrying.

Drake’s eyes meet hers, and he chimes in. ‘It was a spur of the moment kinda thing. I know you had meetings. But next time--’

Liam waves him off. ‘Of course! I wish I could have been there, but I could barely free up these few hours this morning, can you imagine the uproar if I’d left court last night?’

He plasters on the fake smile that Amara hates so much. She knows she has to change the subject. ‘So how are things at court? Is everyone behaving without us?’

Liam drops the façade and takes a deep breath. Shit, Amara thinks. Maybe it wasn’t the right way to divert the conversation. ‘Well,’ Liam begins, ‘it’s definitely been quiet. Kiara and Penelope spend most of their time together, although I had a very pleasant one-on-one with Kiara. But um…’ He pauses and scans everyone’s faces. ‘Madeleine is acting a bit...suspicious. Can I be blunt?’

Drake nods. ‘Go ahead. We’re steel traps.’

‘She showed up in my study the other night, clearly trying to seduce me, and when I rejected her, I could tell that she was really pissed off. I’m convinced that she’s involved in the...pictures.’ Liv looks away, and Liam continues. ‘I’m waiting on some more reports from security. Bastien is on the case, looking for clues.’

Amara turns to Drake, and they make brief eye contact. They both know that putting Bastien on the case will do nothing. And yet, they both have zero interest in speaking up about him, because he’s the only reason why no one has found out about their relationship yet.

Hana senses the tension and chimes in. ‘I think there’s nothing more you can do, Liam. Amara has tried to investigate. The phone used to send out my picture was a burner, linked to no one. The envelopes are untraceable for now. There’s just not enough to go off of. All you can do now is keep being a reassuring presence.’

Liam nods. ‘You’re right. I just want this madness to stop. If Madeleine is involved…’ he interrupts himself and glances at Amara. She knows what he wants to say. But he stops in his tracks, probably not wanting to offend her or freak her out.

So, Amara says what they’re all thinking. ‘If she’s involved, I’ll be the next target.’

*****

Taglist:

@drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @jovialyouthmusic @andy-loves-corgis @mariahschoices @drakesensworld @thequeenofcronuts @notoriouscs @drakewalkerisreal @nikkis1983 @simsvetements @alesana45 @iplaydrake @emceesynonymroll @lily1999love @drakewalkerwhipped @drakxwalker @drakewalkerrosenberg @drakelover78 @silviasutton1989 @dcbbw @carabeth @furiousherringoperatortoad @hollygirl1269 @sirbeepsalot

Thank you for your encouragements, everyone! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

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