#I bet she still has my cookie ordering sheets

[nucleariguana]

The Lyrics To Every Song In “Mandatory Fun”

My maid is cleaning the bathroom, so I can't take a shower When I do, the water starts getting cold after an hour I couldn't order off the breakfast menu, cause I slept in till two Then I filled up on bread, didn't leave any room for tiramisu Oh no, there's a pixel out in the corner of my laptop screen I don't have any bills in my wallet small enough for the vending machine Some idiot just called me up on the phone, what!? Don't they know how to text? OMG! I got

First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems

I bought too many groceries for my refrigerator Forgot my gardener's name, I'll have to ask him later Tried to fast forward commercials, can't, I'm watching live T.V I'm pretty sure the cookies in this airport lounge ain't gluten free My barista didn't even bother to make a design in the foam on the top of my vanilla latte

First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems

Can't remember which car I drove to the mall My Sonicare won't recharge, now I gotta brush my teeth like a neanderathal The thread count on these cotton sheets has got me itching My house is so big, I can't get WiFi in the kitchen Uh, I had to buy something I didn't even need just So I could qualify for free shipping on Amazon

First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems (First world problems)

First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems (First world problems) First world, first world problems

I'm waking up, in Cheeto dust My belly's covered with pizza crust I'm using my inhaler now I'm out of shape, fattening up I'm sipping Coke from a Solo Cup Donut crumbs are upon my lips, whoa

The TV's on, I really hate this show I can't reach my remote control Welcome to my new place, to my new place Sorry it's a cramped space, but it's my place Whoa oh, whoa I'm, really inactive, I'm so inactive Whoa oh, whoa I'm, really inactive, highly inactive

My muscle's gone, I'm atrophied Always lose my fight with gravity I rest my bones, and just chillax, whoa My NordicTrack's collecting dust And my StairMaster's a pile of rust This is it, The Inertia, whoa

I can't get up, this couch is part of me I'm growing cobwebs on my knee Pretty sad for my age, sad for my age I could break my rib cage, here is my age Whoa oh, whoa I'm, really inactive, yes, quite inactive Whoa oh, whoa I'm, really inactive, not very active

Near comatose, no exercise Don't tag my toe, I'm still alive

I'm giving up, my energy is shot I'm never moving from this spot Never move from this place, move from this place I'll stay here in this place, right in this place Whoa oh, whoa I'm, really inactive, just so inactive Whoa oh, whoa I'm, really inactive, not so attractive

Tuesday morning, 8:15 I was riding to work on the Jackson Park Express Seemed like any other day Then my whole world changed In a way I never could have guessed 'Cause she walked in Took the seat right across the aisle I knew we had a special connection The second I saw her smile

She smiled as if to say "Hello, haven't seen you on this bus before" I gave her a look that said "Huh, life is funny, you never know what's in store By the way, your hair is beautiful I bet it smells like raisins"

She looked at me in a way that asked "Did you have a nose job or something? I'm only asking, cause your nose looks slightly better Than the rest of your face" I arched my eyebrow, ever so slightly Which was my way of asking "Do you want my old Hewlett-Packard printer? It still works, kinda And I got a bunch of ink cartridges left"

Then, she let out a long sigh Which, I took to mean, "Uh" "Mama, what is that deodorant you're wearing? It's intoxicating Why don't we drive out to the country sometime? And collect deer ticks in a zip-lock baggie", oh yeah

I gave her a penetrating stare Which could only mean "You are my answer, my answer to everything Which is why, I'll probably do very poorly On the written part of my driver's test"

Yes, it all happened On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express

I knew she was starting to fall for me 'Cause she crinkled her nose, which unmistakably meant "Baby, lets wear each other's clothes And speak in a thick German accent And, maybe someday we can own and operate Our own mobile pet-grooming service" I couldn't hold back my feelings I gave her a look, that said "I would make any sacrifice for your love Goat, chicken, whatever I could never hold you close enough Let's have our bodies surgically grafted together Oh, surgically grafted together"

She picked up a newspaper, and started reading to herself Which I'm sure, was a way of telling me "When you're cold, I will warm you When you're shivering, I will hold you When your nauseous, I will give you Pepto-Bismol every hour For as long as the symptoms persist" Oh, I, I never, ever want to see you cry So, please let me cauterize your tear ducts with an arc welder Then, I glanced down, at her shirt, for a second In a way that clearly implied "I like your boobs"

Yes, it all happened On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express

I cleared my throat quietly, and then, I looked away And I'm sure it was obvious to her, just what I was trying to say I was trying to say, "Hey I'd like to make a wall-sized mural out of all the dead skin cells That you slough off while you sleep at night" Whoa-o-Oh, "I'd like to rip you wide open And french-kiss every single one of your internal organs Oh, I'd like to remove all your skin, and wear your skin, over my own skin But not in a creepy way"

Then, I'm pretty sure, she looked at me, out of the corner of her good eye And, though, she never spoke a word, this is exactly what I heard She was saying, "Oh! I wanna make out with you, in an abandoned toll-booth, in the middle of a monsoon I wanna ride dolphins with you, in the moonlight Until the staff at Sea World kicks us out I want you inside me, oh, like a tapeworm"

I pointed to the side of my mouth, as a way of indicating "Hey, I think you got something on the side of your mouth" She licked the corner of her lips, as if to say "Here?", I nodded, implying, "Yeah, you got it"

And, then the bus stopped, at 53rd Street, and she got up suddenly "Where are you going?", pleaded my eyes, "Baby, don't you do this to me Think of the beautiful children we could have someday We could school them at home, raise them up the right way And protect them from the evils of the world Like Trigonometry and Prime Numbers, oh no Baby, please don't go"

She brushed my leg, as she left the bus I'm sure that was her way of saying "I'm sorry this just isn't working out You're suffocating me I need some space to find out what life's all about So, goodbye forever, my love"

And deep inside, I knew she was right It was time for us both to move on And no, I never got her number, oh no no She never bothered to leave her address, oh But, as long as I live, I'll never forget Those precious moments we shared together

On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express On the Jackson Park Express

We must all efficiently Operationalize our strategies Invest in world-class technology And leverage our core competencies In order to holistically administrate Exceptional synergy We'll set a brand trajectory Using management's philosophy Advance our market share vis-à-vis Our proven methodology With strong commitment to quality Effectively enhancing corporate synergy Transitioning our company By awareness of functionality Promoting viability Providing our supply chain with diversity (versity, ooooh) We will distill our identity Through client-centric solutions And synergy (Oooooh oooh oooh)

At the end of the day (At the end of the day) We must monetize our assets The fundamentals of change Can you visualize a value-added experience? That will grow the business infrastructure and Monetize our assets Monetize our assets Monetize our assets

Bringing to the table Our capitalized reputation Proactively overseeing Day-to-day operations Services and deliverables With cross-platform innovation Networking, soon will bring, seamless integration Robust and scalable, bleeding-edge and next-generation Best of breed We'll succeed In achieving globalization

And gaining traction with our resources in the marketplace It's mission-critical to stay incentivized Against this purple-poster-flexible-solutions for our customer base If you can't think outside the box You'll be downsized It's a paradigm shift! (Hey, Hey! Look out!) Well, it's a paradigm shift, now! (Here we go! Here we go! Here we come! Here we come! Ha!)

We clawed, we chained our hearts in vain We jumped never asking why We kissed, I fell under your spell A love no one could deny

Don't you ever say I just walked away I will always want you I can't live a life, running for my life I will always want you

I came in like a wrecking ball I never hit so hard in love All I wanted was to break your walls All you ever did was wreck me Yeah, you wreck me

All the other kids with the pumped up picture You better run, better run, outrun my gun All the other kids with the pumped up picture You better run, better run faster than my bullet

And we danced all night to the best song ever We knew every line, now I can't remember I think it went ooh eh ooh I think it went oohla eh ooh I think it goes eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh

Eh, sexy lady Po, po, po, po Polka Gangnam Style Eh, sexy lady Po, po, po, po Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh

Hey, I just met you And this is crazy But here's my number So call me, maybe And all the other boys Try to chase me But here's my number So call me, maybe

I wanna scream and shout (hey!) And let it all out And scream and shout (hey!) And let it out We sayin', "Ohh, wee ohh, wee oh wee oh" We sayin', "Ohh, wee ohh, wee oh wee oh wee ohh, wee oh wee oh"

Now you're just somebody that I used to know Now you're just somebody that I used to know

It's going down (hey!), I'm yelling timber You better move, you better dance Let's make a night you won't remember I'll be the one you won't forget (Timber! Timber!)

I'm sexy and I know it Girl look at that body (He's sexy and he knows it)

I wear your grandad's clothes I look incredible I'm in this big old coat From that thrift shop down the road (Hey!)

That's right! (He looks incredible) I do! (He's in that big old coat) It's large! Hey, lets go! (From that thrift shop down the road)

I'm gonna pop some tags Only got twenty dollars in my pocket I'm hunting, looking for a come-up This is super awesome

She's up all night 'til the sun I'm up all night to get some She's up all night for good fun I'm up all night to get lucky

We're up all night 'til the sun We're up all night to get some We're up all night for good fun We're up all night to get lucky

We're up all night to get lucky We're up all night to get lucky We're up all night to get lucky We're up all night to get lucky We're up all night to get lucky We're up all night to get lucky We're up all night to get lucky Up all night to get lucky

Yes, we're up all night to get Can get lucky, we're gonna get lucky, let's all get lucky We're up all night to get lucky! (Hey!)

I saw a baby drive a truck I saw a junkie eat a tuba I saw a stripper kiss a duck Behind a dumpster in Aruba

I saw this fat, psychotic guy His underwear was made of crickets He pawned a skeleton to buy Some old expired lotto tickets

I saw a naked vagrant giving Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to his cat I probably could have gone my whole life Without seeing that

With my own eyes I see things that'd drive a normal man insane Wish I could disconnect my brain From my own eyes

I saw a mime get hacked to death With an imaginary cleaver I saw an old man's final breath I watched him die from Bieber Fever I saw these diabetic chicks In an abandoned 7-Eleven I watched them snorting pixie sticks While they were belching Stairway To Heaven

I saw two drag queens trying to see how many crackers They could shove up each other's nose I'd like to erase my mind completely but I suppose That's just the way it goes

With my own eyes I see things that'd drive a normal man insane Wish I could disconnect my brain From my own eyes (my own eyes) Those visions haunt my memory Oh, there's so much I wish I could unsee With my own eyes

Some priest got drunk and stole a circus zebra And he trained it to massage his back My guinea pig committed hara-kiri So we used him to play hacky-sack My neighbor's kids sold weapons grade plutonium And frosty ice-cold lemonade They took MasterCard and sometimes Human organs in trade, that's how we paid I have to say that it was really darn good lemonade

With my own eyes I've seen thing that'd drive a normal man insane Wish I could disconnect my brain From my own eyes (my own eyes) Those visions haunt my memory Oh, there's so much I wish I could unsee With my own eyes With my own eyes With my own eyes With my own eyes

Everybody shut up, woo! Everyone listen up! Hey, hey, hey, uh Hey, hey, hey

If you can't write in the proper way If you don't know how to conjugate Maybe you flunked that class And maybe now you find That people mock you online

Okay, now here's the deal I'll try to educate ya Gonna familiarize You with the nomenclature You'll learn the definitions Of nouns and prepositions Literacy's your mission And that's why I think it's a

Good time To learn some grammar Now, did I stammer Work on that grammar You should know when It's "less" or it's "fewer" Like people who were Never raised in a sewer

I hate these word crimes Like I could care less That means you do care At least a little Don't be a moron You'd better slow down And use the right pronoun Show the world you're no clown Everybody wise up!

Say you got an "I", "T" Followed by apostrophe, "s" Now what does that mean? You would not use "it's" in this case As a possessive It's a contraction What's a contraction? Well, it's the shortening of a word, or a group of words By the omission of a sound or letter

Okay, now here's some notes Syntax you're always mangling No "x" in "espresso" Your participle's danglin' But I don't want your drama If you really wanna Leave out that Oxford comma Just keep in mind

That "be", "see", "are", "you" Are words, not letters Get it together Use your spellchecker You should never Write words using numbers Unless you're seven Or your name is Prince

I hate these word crimes You really need a Full time proofreader You dumb mouth-breather Well, you should hire Some cunning linguist To help you distinguish What is proper English

One thing I ask of you Time to learn your homophones is past due Learn to diagram a sentence too Always say "to whom" Don't ever say "to who" And listen up when I tell you this I hope you never use quotation marks for emphasis You finished second grade I hope you can tell If you're doing good or doing well About better figure out the difference Irony is not coincidence And I thought that you'd gotten it through your skull What's figurative and what's literal Oh but, just now, you said You literally couldn't get out of bed That really makes me want to literally Smack a crowbar upside your stupid head

I read your e-mail It's quite apparent Your grammar's errant You're incoherent Saw your blog post It's really fantastic That was sarcastic (Oh, psych!) 'Cause you write like a spastic

I hate these Word Crimes Your prose is dopey Think you should only Write in emoji Oh, you're a lost cause Go back to pre-school Get out of the gene pool Try your best to not drool

Never mind I give up Really now I give up Hey, hey, hey Hey, hey, hey Go away!

Your sports team is vastly inferior That simple fact is plainly obvious to see We're gonna kick your collective posterior Of course you realize we're speaking figuratively Our stats are thoroughly impressive Our coach really has the Midas touch Our players are fast and strong and brave And your guys, eh, not so much

In fact we've played teams across the nation And you're the worst one we've come across Try to assimilate that information And it just might help you cope with your impending loss Oh, and if somehow we are still failing To affectively articulate the points at hand Allow us now to summarize them in a manner That your feeble brains can understand

We're great (we're great) And you suck (you suck) We're great (we're great) And you suck (you suck) We're great (we're great) And you suck (you suck) You see there's us (we're great) And then there's you (you suck) We're really, really great (really great) In contrast, you really suck (really suck) Okay, full disclosure, we're not that great But nevertheless, you suck

Your sports team will soon suffer swift defeat That theory's backed up by empirical evidence We're gonna grind up your guys into burger meat Again, of course, we're speaking in the figurative sense What's the use of even going through the motions When you know that you're gonna lose anyhow So why don't you save us all some time And give up now (you suck!)

I never seem to finish all my food I always get a doggie bag from the waiter So I just keep what's still unchewed And I take it home, save it for later

But then I deal with fungal rot, bacterial formation Microbes, enzymes, mold and oxidation I don't care, I've got a secret trick up my sleeve

I never bother with baggies, glass jars, tupperware containers Plastic cling wrap, really a no-brainer I just like to keep all my flavours sealed in tight

With aluminum foil (Foil) Never settle for less That kind of wrap is just the best To keep your sandwich nice and fresh

Stick it in your cooler (Cooler) Eat it when you're ready Then maybe you'll choose (You'll choose, you'll choose, you'll choose) A refreshing herbal tea Mmm, lovely!

Oh, by the way, I've cracked the code I've figured out these shadow organizations And the Illuminati know That they're finally primed for world domination

And soon you've got black helicopters comin' cross the border Puppet masters for the New World Order Be aware: There's always someone that's watching you And still the government won't admit they faked the whole moon landing Thought control rays, psychotronic scanning Don't mind that, I'm protected cause I made this hat

From aluminum foil (Foil) Wear a hat that's foil lined In case an alien's inclined To probe your butt or read your mind

Looks a bit peculiar ('culiar) Seems a little crazy But someday I'll prove (I'll prove, I'll prove, I'll prove) There's a big conspiracy

One time I was in the checkout line Behind Steven Seagal Once I'm pretty sure Mr. Jonah Hill Was in the very next bathroom stall My best friend's brother Well, he was an extra in Wayne's World 2 My neighbour's baby sitter Dated three of the guys in Motley Crue I swear Jack Nicholson Looked right at me at a Laker's game

I got a lame Lame claim to fame

Check it out, I bought a second hand toaster From a guy who says he knows Brad Pitt I got me an email from the prince of Nigeria Well, he sure sounded legit My sister used to take piano lessons From the second cousin of Ralph Nader Last year I threw up in an elevator Next to Christian Slater Well guess what, my birthday and Kim Kardashian's Are exactly the same

I got a lame Lame claim to fame A really lame Lame claim to fame

Once at a party, my dentist accidentally Sneezed on Russell Crowe I posted first in the comments On a YouTube video I tried to sit by Steve Buscemi But he told me this seat's taken I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy Who know a guy who knows a guy who know Kevin Bacon

I had a car that used to belong To Cuba Gooding Jr.'s uncle A friend of mine in high school Had jury duty with Art Garfunkel One time I was staying in the same hotel As Zooey Deschanel I used the same napkin dispenser As Steve Carell at a Taco Bell Well I don't mean to brag but Paul Giamatti's plumber knows me by name

I got a lame Lame claim to fame A really lame Lame claim to fame I'm talking lame Lame claim to fame A really really really lame Lame claim to fame

Ow, let's get lame boys

First things first, I'm a craftsman (craftsman) Remodelling is my only passion (it's my passion) And I'm the greatest in the business Want referrals, yo My clientèle will bear you witness (right, right) I can help when your door jamb sticks (heh?) There is nothing in the world I can't fix (yeah) I do tiles, I do stone, I do bricks Call me, I'll come rushing over with my bag of tricks (bag of tricks) Where you go when your disposal is rusted (rusted) Termite problem making you disgusted (yuck) When your front window is busted (hey hey hey) Just one man that's always trusted

I'm so handy, you already know I'll fix your plumbing when your toilets over flows I'm so handy, I'll bring you up to code When your dishwasher's about to explode

Now you see that your furnace is needing some service I'm fully bonded, no need to be nervous Perhaps you would like a new counter Formica Maybe I'll hook up your dish washer combo dryer But all your pipes are antique Your water pressure's too weak You got an attic full of dry rot Because your roof sprung a leak Your fridge is starting to reek Your hardwood floors really squeak But don't you worry I'll just show you my amazing technique Now let me glue that, glue that and screw that, screw that Any random chore you got, well I can do that, do that Or maybe I'll just rewire your house for fun I got 99 problems but a switch ain't one

I'm so handy, everyone said so I'll grout your bathroom, resurface your patio I'm so handy, I'm the guy to know When your leaf blower doesn't blow-oh-oh-oh

Patch the drywall, clean your gutters and mow the lawn Make that phone call, I'll install anything you want Yeah, check my big staple gun, my socket wrenches are second to none I won't quit 'til I'm done, don't even care if I hammer my thumb (OW!)

Still rocking my screwdriver Got the whole world thinking I'm MacGuyver Your heating bills are shocking I can solve that with some duct tape and some caulking Your house is a disaster, huh? Need a guy whose a master with the plaster, huh? Let me be your stripper Taking off lacquer, no one does it quicker

I'm so handy, you already know I'll beat all price quotes, my hourly rates are low I'm so handy, you should call this pro I'm in the phone book and se habla Español It might seem crazy, wearing stripes and plaid I Instagram every meal I've had All my used liquor bottles are on display We can go to see a show but I'll make you pay

Wear my belt with suspenders and sandals with my socks (Because I'm tacky) Got some new glitter Uggs and lovely pink sequined Crocs (Because I'm tacky) Never let you forget some favor I did for you (Because I'm tacky) If you're okay with that, then, you might just be tacky, too

I meet some chick, ask her this and that Like 'Are you pregnant girl, or just really fat?' (what?) Well, now I'm dropping names almost constantly That's what Kanye West keeps telling me, here's why

Wear my Ed Hardy shirt with fluorescent orange pants (Because I'm tacky) Got my new resume it's printed in Comic Sans (Because I'm tacky) Think it's fun threatening waiters with a bad Yelp review (Because I'm tacky) If you think that's just fine, then, you're probably tacky, too

Bring me shame, can't nothing Bring me shame, I never know why Bring me shame, can't nothing Bring me shame, I said Bring me shame, can't nothing Bring me shame, it's pointless to try Bring me shame, can't nothing Bring me shame, I said

43 Bumper Stickers and a YOLO license plate (Because I'm tacky) Bring along my coupon book whenever I'm on a date (Because I'm tacky) Practice my twerking moves in line at the DMV (Because I'm tacky) Took the whole bowl of restaurant mints. Hey, it said they're free (Because I'm tacky) I get drunk at the bank And take off my shirt, at least (Because I'm tacky) I would live-tweet a funeral, take selfies with the deceased (Because I'm tacky) If I'm bit by a zombie, I'm probably not telling you (Because I'm tacky) If you don't think that's bad, guess what, then you're tacky, too

[charturnus]

The warmest bed I've ever known

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

a/n: We're not going to talk about my upload schedule... I will however tell you that this fic is about to take a sharp left turn into smutland now that the groundwork is put down.

Warnings: slight mention of child abuse; terrorism mention; death mention; alcoholism mention; mommy issues (not of the fun variety); light angst; thunderstorms (ig 😭)

Summary: Chapter III; Did you get enough of love, my little dove? AU

Wordcount: 6.1k

Your bed is cold, but her arms are warm. The one where you sleep together, but not like that.

Previous chapter

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I wake to the fast-paced clicking sounds of Wanda’s keyboard and sunlight streaming in through the partially opened curtains.

Through the lids of my closed eyes, I can see the brightness permeating the room, the light shining onto my closed eyes makes the emptiness shine a dull red. For a while I lay completely still, my eyes still resolutely shut. I bask in this little moment of reprieve, enjoying the softness of the sheets, the sounds of Wanda’s breathing and her fingers flying over the keyboard.

I know I cannot stay like this forever, however much I might want to. I must face the events of the previous night, look Wanda in the eyes, and own up to what happened.

When I finally open my eyes, I blink in the harsh sunlight, and I squint up at Wanda. She is sitting with her legs crossed, her laptop propped up between them, her hair clipped messily to the top of her head. This is the first time I have seen her without any makeup, and with the light shining on her face, her freckles are standing out more than ever.

My heart flutters at the sight of her, her delicate fingers with her red painted nails, her teeth biting down on her lower lip, the mess of strawberry red hair. She looks like a painting. I want to take a photograph right this moment, and remember her like this forever. Unbidden, I let out a sigh, a sound of delight, of reverence for this moment.

Wanda’s head turns at the sound, and she looks me square in the eyes. Instantly, my cheeks fill with heat. Caught you, Wanda’s look seems to say. I feel rather like a child caugth with their hand in the cookie jar.

‘’Oh, honey.’’ She chuckles, apparently taking note of the guilty expression on my face. ‘’Is waking up in my bed really so bad?’’ She teases.

My cheeks grow even warmer at this, and suddenly I am very much aware of how my nightdress has ridden up well past my hips. I hug the sheets tight to me. ‘’No of course not!’’ I say rather sheepishly. ‘’It’s just that- you know, last night..’’ I trail off, trying (and failing) to search for the correct words, for the right way to apologize for the mess she had walked in on.

‘’Don’t you worry about that.’’ Wanda says firmly, her eyes are gentle but her tone leaves no room for argument. ‘’It’s done now. Let it go, little dove.’’

Slowly, I nod my head, letting her words sink in. I don’t have to explain myself or ask for her forgiveness. I am allowed to let it be. I wonder if Wanda knows how heavy this burden weighs on me, and how relieving it is to be given permission to let it go. I wonder if she knows that I would have allowed this to hang over me, tormenting me with guilt for days on end.

‘’Thank you.’’ I whisper. ‘’Don’t worry about it.’’ She says again, her nose scrunching up affectionately in that way that makes my heart leap every time. With a playful smile, and a wink, she lets the topic end there.

Moving on, she motions with her head towards her laptop screen. ‘’Guess what?’’

‘’What?’’ I say, grateful for the change of topic.

’’Pepper has put me on house arrest for a week.’’

I’m in the middle of shimmying my nightdress back down to an appropriate length and I halt, with the fabric still bunched in my fingers and my dress still barely covering what ought to be covered.

‘’Of the court-ordered kind?’’

Wanda snorts. ‘’I bet that would give Pepper a good laugh. Unfortunately for her, she doesn’t quite hold that much power.’’ She laughs, unclipping her hair and running a hand absentmindedly through it. Quite suddenly, like the striking of a match in the dark of night, I am struck by how soft she looks. Usually she is all crisp suits, stilettos as sharp as the dagger they are named for, and an even sharper tongue.

Now however, she is gentle, soft and rounded around the edges. With her silk pyjamas, dried toothpaste in the corner of her mouth and locks of her hair falling in front of her eyes.

‘’We’ve decided that it’s best if I stay home for the next week, not work at all.’’

This statement shakes me, quite abruptly, out of my reverie. I stare at her in disbelief. If Wanda Maximoff has ever willingly taken a whole week off work, I’ll eat my shoe.

‘’Why would you want to do that?’’ She narrows her eyes at me. ‘’It seems I suddenly have a life outside of my work, if you can believe it.’’ She shuts her laptop with a snap and leans down to slide it into the compartment of her nightstand.

‘’I think you and I have that in common.’’ She says, her voice slightly muffled as she’s bent double and leaning away from me. ‘’And besides- we have to get to know each other, we’ve got a story to sell, remember?’’

***

‘’So let me get straight. You want to play 20 questions with me?’

’I have to fight the urge to laugh, staring hard into the pan of porridge as I stir, trying not to think about how ridiculous this whole situation is. If you had told me a month ago that today I would be making breakfast for my boss and I, after I spent the night in her bed, and that on top of it all she is begging me to play 20 questions with her, I would have redirected you to the nearest ER to have your head checked out.

‘’It’s a fun game!’’ Wanda protests, dipping her finger into the bowl of mashed bananas that I set aside only moments ago. I swat at her grabbing fingers, but I feel my cheeks grow hot as she lifts the digits up to her mouth to lick them clean. I cough to clear my throat, moving the bowl out of her reach.

'’I suppose it would be a good way to get to know each other.’’

‘’It’s the best way! And we have so much to learn about each other, I don’t even know your favourite colour, your sister’s name, or your favourite food. That’s the sort of thing couples need to know about each other.’’ She says, nodding her head seriously.

I scrape the mashed bananas into the milky porridge, smiling to myself. ‘’Well, my favourite colour is pink. My sister’s called Darcy, and my favourite food is sushi.’’ From the corner of my eye, I spot Wanda lifting herself up to sit on the counter next to the stove.

‘’Are those your first three questions?’’ As I turn to look at her, I notice her scribbling in a little notebook, presumably writing down my answers to her questions. I laugh, shaking my head at her. ‘’You’re taking this very seriously, huh?’’

‘’Excuse you.’’ Wanda says in mock incredulity, her hand clutching imaginary pearls. ‘’This IS very serious. You know, if you’re going to be my faux girlfriend for a year, I’m going to need to know you like I know the back of my own hand.’’

My stomach clenches, a swarm of butterflies rising up, their soft wings tickling my insides. My gaze softens, and I can’t stop myself from smiling up at her. She’s trying so hard to make this whole situation into something nice, something fun.

Offering to drive me to my apartment, singing me to sleep, making a genuine effort to get to know me. It’s the most effort anyone has put into me for God knows how many years. The porridge has come to a boil, thickening up, the steam rising from it steadily. I take it off the heat, grateful for the task at hand. I divide it evenly between the two bowls, glad to be able to turn my back to Wanda, so she won’t notice my over-bright eyes.

‘’Alright.’’ I say, turning to hand Wanda her bowl. ‘’I agree, we should know one another well if we’re going to pull this off.’’

I rummage through the cutlery drawer and I fish out two small spoons, sliding one into my own bowl and handing Wanda the other. She gives me a wicked smile, indicating her head towards the sitting room.

‘’Let’s play then.’’

***

An hour later, our empty porridge bowls sit forgotten on the sitting room table. Wanda has pulled out a blanket for us, and we’re curled up on the sofa together, a respectable distance from one another. She has very graciously procured a notebook and a pen for me to use, so that I too can document every bit of information shared.

So far, I have learned that her favourite book is Condensed Chaos, by an author I’ve never heard of before. Her favourite colour, unsurprisingly, is red. She also tells me that has a few close friends, namely, Pepper, a woman called Agatha, and Maria Hill, the woman who now holds my previous position.

I tell Wanda about meeting Maria and mention how I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone called Agatha. She assures me that I’ll be meeting her soon and that I’m sure to like her.

‘’What about your family?’’ Wanda asks casually, after she finishes telling a wild story involving her and Agatha, a hoard of paparazzi and a carton of eggs.

‘’Hmmm?’’ I say absently, watching Wanda’s fingers as they trace little spirals into the fabric of the sofa.

‘’You said you don’t really have a family, what happened there?’’

‘’Oh.’’ I pull up short, frowning. ‘’It’s complicated.’’

Wanda smiles sympathetically. ‘’Yeah, I know what you mean.’’

I turn to her, a realization hitting me quite suddenly. There are no family photos in this house, and I can’t remember ever hearing anything about the Maximoff family.

‘’What about your family?’’ Wanda’s expression turns sombre, and I instantly regret asking about it. But before I get a chance to apologize and take it back, she begins to talk.

‘’I’m a twin.’’

She stays silent for a few moments and I try to take in this new information, my pen hovers over the notebook paper. I don’t write anything down.

'’His name was Pietro.’’

Was. His name was.

‘’Wanda I- I’m so sorry.’’ I say. I’m horrified by this confession, and I wish I could take my question back. How can I express my sorrow for her, when I can’t even begin to understand what it is like to lose someone so integral to your personal identity.

She shakes her head, covering my hand with her own, warming my icy cold skin. ‘’There was a terror attack back in Sokovia when I was young. My parents died during the first wave of bombings, Pietro was killed saving a child from gunfire.’’ She looks out to the open window, at the sky above.

‘’It’s been a long time.’’ She says softly. ‘’I miss him and my parents every day, but life goes on, little dove.’’ She pats my hand, letting out a sigh. ‘’I think you know something about that.’’

I clear my throat, letting the silence stretch on for a few more moments. I don't like to talk about it, not wanting to tear open the old wound. Still, after Wanda’s confession I feel like she of all people is likely to understand what it feels like to have such a messy past. I hesitate wondering what I should say, how much I should tell her.

‘’My mother drank.’’ I say, opting for the most straightforward version of the truth. ‘’She hurt me and Darcy. It was awful. We were removed from her care when I was 7 and she was 16, our Dad took us in.’’

The old memories float up to the surface of my mind, blurry from the passage of time, like a sheet of paper doused in water, the lines are fuzzy, the memory hazy, but the pain lingers.

‘’Dad passed 5 years ago, stomach cancer.’’ Wanda squeezes my hand tightly, and I feel emboldened by it. ‘’My sister got married shortly after, and she left for Switzerland with her husband.’’

‘’It’s lonely, isn’t it?’’ Wanda says, more than asks. I get the feeling she isn’t asking me if I’m lonely, but rather that she’s stating that this is how we both feel.

"Yeah.’’ I murmur. ‘’It really is.’’

‘’Well-’’ Wanda says, her voice louder, cheerier than before. ‘’I guess we’ll just have to keep each other’s company then.’’ She nudges me with her shoulder, pulling a small smile from me. ‘’I think that’s enough misery for today, hmmm?’’ I nod, covertly wiping a few lone tears trickling from my left eye.

‘’Do you want to see a film?’’ I think back to the little private cinema, hidden in the bowels of the house, and nod excitedly.

‘’Question 18.’’ I say, pulling out my pen and notebook once more. ‘’What’s your favourite film?’'

***

We end up watching a few episodes of The Dick Van Dyke Show instead of a film, but I don’t mind in the slightest when Wanda is clearly so excited about it.

I barely pay attention to the show, losing myself in my own thoughts instead. The seats in the cinema are huge, looking more like sofas than chairs, with plenty of room for the pair of us to sit together. One of Wanda’s hands rests absently on my thigh, almost as though she doesn’t realize she’s touching me.

All throughout our time in the darkened room, I let my mind wander, thinking of the year to come and all it might hold. I wonder how long we have before our ‘relationship’ will become public knowledge and my stomach clenches painfully at the thought of lurking paparazzi and nasty magazine articles.

In an attempt to stop myself from spiraling about a future that hasn’t even come to pass yet, I try to think about all the wonderful things that might happen. Attending galas on Wanda’s arm, wearing gorgeous dresses, dinner parties with nameless and faceless guests, Wanda’s arm slung protectively over my shoulder, staging kisses in the backs of limousines.

A pleasant, warm and tingly feeling fills me at those thoughts. Like a blanket wrapping me up, safe and secure. A strange comfort surrounds me and the safety of the darkness emboldens me. Before I have too much time to overthink it, I let my head sink down on Wanda’s shoulder. She doesn’t hesitate, and lays her own head down onto mine, the hand on my thigh giving me a small squeeze.

We watch the rest of the episode like that, in a comfortable silence, connected by the warmth of each other’s bodies.

***

After we have spent a comfortable three hours in the cinema, Wanda takes me out to the large garden where we while away the time by looking at all the beauty the outdoors has to offer and continue our little game, which has expanded well beyond a mere 20 questions.

‘’What’s your love language?’’

Wanda is clipping some blossoms off a tree, to give to a friend of hers, and I have been watching her work in silence. My thoughts wandering to all the things I’d like to know about her. I try to bring to mind a list of questions you should ask someone you’re on a date with, things which are important to know, or things that might be dealbreakers. Is she allergic to cats? Does she want children? What’s her love language?

‘’Hmmm?’’ she humms absentmindedly, as she climbs down from her little ladder.

‘’Your love language’’ I repeat. ‘’How do you show your love for someone?’’

She furrows her brow, contemplating this for a while as she clips little jagged bits from the branch in her hand. ‘’I haven’t thought of that before, I think I show it in lots of ways.’’

‘’For me it’s physical touch and quality time, it’s how I show others I love them but also how I feel most loved myself.’’ The image of myself wrapped up in Wanda’s arms last night, floats to the top of my mind. ‘’Especially physical touch is such a comfort to me and it’s how I try to comfort my loved ones.’’

Wanda’s smiling now, gathering all of her branches together and wrapping it up in a simple cloth, making two bundles. ‘’I figured you like that, even when you were asleep you kept on holding my hand and rolling to my side.’’

I cringe slightly at the thought of this, wondering what Wanda must have thought of me. I don’t quite know what to say to this, so just stare at her, mortified.

She laughs at my expression, her nose scrunching up. ‘’Oh don’t look at me like that, it’s adorable.’’

‘’Adorableness is in the eye of the beholder, I guess.’’ I grumble. She gives me a wink as she hands me one of the bundles of branches, so I can help her carry them.

‘’I think physical touch is my love language too, but I think caring for others is way I tend to really show I love someone.’’

I swallow dryly, and attempt to keep my voice neutral. ‘’Oh? In what way do you care for your loved ones?’’

‘’Just helping them, I suppose.’’ She says, looking up at the rapidly darkening sky above as we make our way slowly back to the house. ‘’Taking weight from their shoulders, whatever that might be.’’

Curiosity takes the better of me and I can’t help but ask, not now the answer is within arms reach. ‘’Is that why you helped me last night?’’

She holds her hands up in front of her, the bundle swaying gently as it hangs from her closed fist. ‘’You caught me.’’ Her gentle smile quickly turns serious, as her eyebrows knit together, her features sympathetic. ‘’It broke my heart when I heard you cry like that. You looked so forlorn, a little bird with a broken wing, all alone.’’

I swallow hard, unsure of what to say, or how to even begin expressing how touched I am by this confession.

‘’I’ve known something isn’t entirely right for some time now, but it never felt appropriate to reach out, you know?’’ I don’t bother answering her, partly because I know it’s a rhetorical question, and partly because she continues speaking only a few short seconds later.

‘’It still feels like it’s not my place, but I couldn’t just leave you alone like that. I just have this- need, I suppose you could call it, to give care… Like I want to scoop you up and keep you safe from whatever it is that made you so upset. Is that weird?’’ She says with a slighly concerned chuckle.

For a moment I am stunned into silence, before I manage to regain my composure. Quickly, I shake my head, even though she isn’t looking at me. ‘’It’s not weird at all. It’s actually really sweet. Nobody’s gone through that much effort for me… It means a lot more than I could tell you.’’

That doesn’t begin to cover half of it, but how am I supposed to express to her the feelings I can’t even hope to understand myself? All I know is that she filled the aching hollow void inside me, she comforted me when I felt that I would never feel comfort again. To me, that act alone is worth more than anything in the world.

‘’You seemed to enjoy it.’’ Wanda smiles fondly. ‘’You slept so soundly, holding onto my hand all through the night. I’m sorry you were so upset, but it made me happy to be able to soothe some of that pain for you.’’ She says this with such sincerity that I can’t even bring myself to be ashamed at the truth of the statement.

I open my mouth, wanting to tell Wanda how warm she made me feel, how her touch warded off the dull aching pain of loneliness. I mean to tell her how last night was the first good night's rest I’ve had in several years and how this entire day has brought me more joy than I have felt in over a month.

But right as I begin to speak, a fat drop of rain hits me square on the nose, followed in quick succession by several others on the top of my head. Before we know it, we’re caught in a sudden, torrential rainstorm.

Shrieking and laughing madly, we bolt for the backdoor of the house, sprinting as fast as we can to outrun the rain. Our shoes make wet slapping noises as we rush over the damp grass and the slippery cobblestone path.

We arrive soaked to the bone in the entryway to the backside of the house. Our hair plastered to our faces, clothes and shoes heavy with rainwater. But in spite of this we are doubled over with laughter at each other’s appearances. We laugh heartily at one another as we try to dispose of our rain logged clothing items, deciding against trekking through the house in our current state. Once upturned, a heavy splash of water runs out from my shoes, and Wanda has to wring out her braid over the old sink.

Our coats are slung unceremoniously over a stack of plastic garden chairs, and Wanda insists we do away with our soaked trousers and socks too. This suggestion brings some heat back into my cold face, but I have to admit it’s the sensible thing to do. Especially as my wide legged trousers are producing a steady trickle of water, and Wanda’s thick socks are making squelching noises as she walks about the room.

Stripping off said items, turns out to be much simpler for me than it is for Wanda. My trousers and socks come off with no struggle at all. But to our great amusement, Wanda’s jeans get stuck halfway down her thighs and within no time we have collapsed in fits of giggles once more. Shaking with laughter, Wanda’s arms are too weak to pull off the heavy denim. So, with my cheeks considerably redder than before, I help her part from the drenched garment.

As she wrings out some of the water from her jeans, she assures me that the wet clothes will be taken care of by the housekeeper in the morning. I nod along, but I’m only half listening. Gooseprickles cover Wanda’s bare legs and I have to execute every last bit of my willpower not to stare at her openly. So as to not get caught, I make myself useful and bend down to gather our shoes which have been dumped unceremoniously as we took them off, each shoe strewn haphazardly about the room. As I snatch up the last of the four shoes and I turn to place them by our coats, I catch Wanda looking at me from the corner of her eye, her head only turned ever so slightly in my direction. But just as quickly as I have noticed, she turns her attention back to the jeans in her hands and I am left wondering if I merely imagined that she had been looking at me.

***

By the time the both of us have showered, dried and changed, almost an hour has passed and we spend the rest of the evening in the living room. Wanda insists on ordering dinner, and when neither of us can decide on a single restaurant, we end up with a weird mix of Greek and Italian dishes.

We fill our evening with stories of our past, sharing titbits of information about ourselves here and there, taking turns telling the craziest stories we can recall.

When the time comes for us to part, I do so with some reluctance. I’d much rather sleep as I had the night before, with Wanda’s steady presence beside me. Not wanting to seem rude or ungrateful, however, I hold my tongue and close the door of my own bedroom behind me.

Outside, the world appears to have been delved into chaos, the shower we had been caught in earlier has developed into a full blown storm. The rain has become significantly more forceful, beating so harshly against the windows of my bedroom that I become worried they might crack. The trees are swaying dangerously, twisting and bending from the force of the winds. Worst of all, a thunderstorm is rapidly making its way in our direction.

From my bedroom window I watch the lightning crackle in distant clouds, and I wait patiently for the rumble of thunder that follows many seconds later.I know that the storm is still quite some distance away, and I hope against all hope that the winds will blow it off course.

Still, an uneasy feeling settles in my stomach. It’s so close to bedtime. Storms this bad scare me even at the best of times, with the ground shaking rumble of the thunder and the flashes of lightning so bright it can illuminate a dark room. At night, however, storms like this frighten me beyond reason. Rationally, I know I am perfectly safe. However, in my vulnerable and tired state, my brain too thick with sleep to think properly, a storm of this size would have me hiding under my bed.

For 40 long minutes I lay in my bed, stiff as a board, holding onto my sheets for dear life, as I listen to the storm approaching. Every second it creeps closer and closer. I count the seconds between lighting and the clap of thunder, trying to gauge how far off the storm is. Rain hammers on my windows, the impact of the droplets making so much noise that I wonder if it might be hail instead. My shoulders and back ache from my muscles being strained for such an extended amount of time, but I simply cannot relax like this, let alone sleep.

10 more minutes pass and I’m certain that the storm is right above us. I am sitting upright on my bed, sheets piled around me, pulled up over my head and my ears, trying to stave off the worst of the sound. Suddenly, a flash of blinding light permeates the room. My curtains are closed and yet the light illuminates the sparsely furnished room as well as my nightlight could. Before I can even begin to count the seconds, the clap of thunder comes. This is not a rumble, but rather an explosion of sound. A boom reverberates around the room, so loud I am certain the lightning must have struck a target.

I am on my feet in half a second, my heart pounding in my chest, panic taking over. I have half a mind to tear open the door connecting my room to Wanda’s, so I can shelter in the safety of her arms. But I think better of it, and tear out into the hallway instead. As I rush down the stairs and into the main hallway I think about hiding in the living room, making a fort out of the sofa cushions, to give myself some semblance of safety.

Before I can get close to the living room however, I spot the light streaming out from the half closed kitchen door. At first I think we accidentally left it on before retiring for the night, but when I push open the door to reach for the light switch, I see Wanda sitting at the breakfast bar with a little book and a pen.

‘’Did the storm wake you up?’’ She says as she notices me standing in the doorway.

‘’Didn’t get to sleep, actually.’’ The quaver in my voice takes even myself by surprise and Wanda too has taken notice. She lays down her pen and looks at me quizzically. ‘’Are you alright there, honey?’’

‘’Yeah.’’ I say initially, before quickly backtracking. ‘’Well- Not entirely. I just don’t like storms.’’ I shrug. ‘’I thought I could hide out in the living room for a while.’’ I decide against mentioning the pillow fort, because I’m pretty sure that sofa costs more than what my life is worth.

‘’You could hide out in my room if you like.’’ Wanda says casually.

‘’I don’t want to saddle you with having me intrude for two nights in a row.’’

She snorts, rolling her eyes. ‘’It’s hardly intruding when I invite you. Besides, it’s my love language, remember?’’

‘’What? Inviting random girls to spend the night with you?’’

‘’No.’’ Wanda says cheekily, getting up from her barstool. ‘’Keeping little birds safe from the big bad storm outside.’’ She wraps an arm around my waist and nudges me out of the kitchen, turning off the light as she does so.

‘’How do you propose to do that?’’

She smiles, scrunching up her nose, crinkles forming in the outer corners of her eyes.

‘’I’ll huff and puff and blow the storm away.’’

***

That is how I come to spend the second night in Wanda’s bed. The next day, the storm comes back with a vengeance, and when Wanda notices the tremble in my hands at the sound of the incoming thunder, she all but wrestles me into her bed, her arms wrapped tightly around me.

While the first three nights were entirely intentional on Wanda’s part, the fourth is somewhat of an accident. We had settled into her bed to watch some more episodes of the Dick van Dyke Show, as the thick duvet offered more warmth than the blankets in the cinema. Yet, when she stepped out for a mere 20 minutes to take a call, she had returned to find me fast asleep.

By the fifth night, I am so used to the luxury of sleeping wrapped in Wanda’s gentle embrace, that I find myself sulking all day long, knowing that tonight I won’t be able find a convenient excuse to spend another night in Wanda’s bed.

As the sky darkens, I dread the moment Wanda and I will inevitably have to part. It feels so strange to have become so attached to her, but it can’t help it, it feels so natural to be this close to her. Due to her time off work, we’ve been spending almost every second of the day together. Our days are spent talking and laughing, strolling through the garden, watching films, playing games, and cooking together.

Our nights are quiet, gentle even. When the storm raged outside, Wanda wrapped me up in her arms and I fell asleep to the sound of her steady heartbeat. The night where I fell asleep by accident, I woke at the witching hour, Wanda’s alarm clock showing 03:24, the luminous red numbers lighting up in the dark. As if she had sensed me waking, Wanda draped an arm around my waist and opened her eyes blearily. ‘’Stay.’’ She had murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. I couldn’t deny her, and even if she hadn’t asked I would have done anything just to stay until morning.

Wanda can tell that something is wrong, but I shrug her off every time she attempts to get me to open up. I’m embarrassed to feel like this, this sickly sweet neediness makes me cringe. Yet I can’t stop myself from scooting closer to her on the sofa, or accidentally brushing up against her as we’re cooking. I tell myself I mustn’t get too attached, reminding myself that this is technically a job I was hired for. It’s difficult to keep this at the forefront of my mind, especially in those moments where Wanda pulls me close to her as we watch TV, or when she traces patterns on my bare thighs as we are cuddled up in bed.

The dreaded bedtime comes, when the grandfather clock in the hallway chimes eleven times. Right on cue, Wanda yawns, stretching her arms over her head. ‘’I think we should head to bed, we hardly slept these last few days.’’

She’s right of course, what with the storm and the late night pillow talk, we only managed about 4 or 5 hours every night. Still, I try to think of something that might persuade her to stay just a little while longer. Another episode of her favourite show, a round of cards, just a few more minutes. But nothing comes to me. Nothing that would actually get her to stay for a substantial amount of time. Besides, I would only be delaying the inevitable. Even if I got five more minutes, cuddled up with her on the sofa, I would be spending the night alone in my bed anyway.

I didn’t think it possible, but my mood still sours considerably as I trudge up the stairs behind Wanda. I wonder how many days it will take for me to get used to sleeping alone again, and what it would take for Wanda to invite me into her bed once more.

Just as I had the days before, I push open my own bedroom door. Even when I stayed with Wanda I used my own bathroom to shower and change into my nightclothes. It felt altogether a lot more sombre knowing I wasn’t here for just a quick pit stop. The doorknob feels cold in my hand as I watch Wanda brush past me, heading towards her own room.

‘’Goodnight.’’ I try to sound cheery as I say it, but she frowns slightly when I do so, a half smile formed on her lips. ‘’Don’t go falling asleep in the shower.’’ She teases with a sly smile. I assure her I won’t, and with that I let the door close behind me.

I go through the motions of preparing for bedtime, but I’m hardly paying attention. I try to focus my mind on something cheerful, reminding myself that this isn’t a big deal at all. For a while I try to distract myself by writing up a review on my phone for the latest book I have read, but this only takes a mere 10 minutes, and soon I find myself mindlessly staring up at the ceiling. After several long minutes of this, I decide I might as well turn the lights off, reasoning that sleep will take me at some point.

Just as I find a comfortable position, the door connecting my room to Wanda’s swings open and Wanda appears in the doorway, her strawberry red hair glowing copper in the dim light streaming in from her bedroom. She looks at me with amused confusion. ‘’What are you doing?’’

‘’Uhhh…” I say stupidly, sitting upright in bed in order to look at her better. ‘’Sleeping?’’

She gives me a look of feigned annoyance. Rolling her eyes at me, whilst clearly trying to suppress a smile. ‘’If you don’t want to spend the night with me, you could have just told me, honey. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.’’

I know she’s only teasing me, but it still stings a little. ‘’It’s quite rude to get into a lady’s bed without an invitation, you know?’’

‘’I see!’’ She says, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. ‘’Is that why you were sulking all day? Because you didn’t get an invitation?’’

My scowl utterly betrays me and Wanda laughs heartily. ‘’Oh I’m sorry, honey. I assumed you wanted to stay with me.’’

‘’I didn’t want to butt in.’’

Wanda perches herself on the edge of my bed, the mattress dipping slightly as she does so. ‘’I’m not one to admit this usually.’’ She says, lowering her voice conspiratorially. ‘’But, I enjoy having you snuggled up with me all night. I don’t think I could sleep half as well on my own.’’

I sincerely doubt this. Someone as independent and strong-willed as Wanda doesn’t need the likes of me by her side to sleep well at night. For me however, it’s an entirely different story. I get the feeling that she’s saying this for my benefit, knowing that I’m too stubborn (or rather, too anxious.) to ask her for the comfort I so desperately crave.

‘’Me either.’’ I admit sheepishly, Wanda’s own confession spurring me on. ‘’I like having someone to hug and cuddle with again.’’

‘’Well then.’’ She says, with a grin like a Cheshire cat, leaning into a half-bow and extending her hand to me. ‘’I would like to formally invite you to stay the night in my room, this night, and every night to come."

━━━━━━━━━ ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯ ━━━━━━━━━

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[dorimena]

Dont know if you like this sort of things but , Do you ever think about shoto being pampered by you and becoming so soft around you ? Like, litteraly. Softer thighs, a lil roll on his tummy , hips softer to grab when pegging him.. etc just, all the care and the freedom to indulge showing in his facial expression, the way he moans loudly and the way his body looks.

I’m just in love with the idea of him a lil soft because he’s well taken care of and blushing embarrassed and turned on when you undress him and praise him for being so good and looking so good , you know ?

(I would absolutely die to read your writing of softer submissive Shoto)

I do like this sort of thing (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) I haven’t actually put much thought into it, but soft Todoroki unlocks a whole new sex experience, just so full of passion and love he’s never felt before, and he just feels so warm and melts everytime you praise him-

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Todoroki Shoto

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 896

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; implied fem!reader, mommy kink, mentioned multiple orgasms, praise, stripping, drooling, dom!reader, sub! character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; soft Shoto, he’s being well-fed, mentioned Todoroki family members, aged-up character, Todoroki is 20+

𝕾𝖔𝖋𝖙 𝕻𝖊𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖙

Todoroki has put on some weight.

Okay, no, he’s simply gotten softer in areas he never thought he’d see be soft, not since he was a child.

He’s been on medical leave for some time now, ever since a battle against a villain kind of went downhill, but you’re glad he’s safe, especially him given his days of recovery under your shared roof rather than piling up unnecessary bills.

Well, okay, that’s not the reason why you’re glad he’s here sitting on the couch, eating some oatmeal he, for some reason, craved.

You’re glad because you can finally, finally, take care of him properly and shower him in love and affection you never found the opportunity or chance to do.

Sure, you’ve always cuddled him when he needed it, snuggled up to him to help lull him to sleep after rough nights, peppered him in kisses any given moment, simply spoiled him with lots of attention.

But never did you find the opportunity to actually cater to his needs:

He wants water? Here you go.

He wants milk tea? Here you go.

He wants cookies? Here you go.

He wants cold soba, just the way he specifically likes it? Here you go.

The word ‘no’ doesn’t exist, excluding sex and dangerous situations.

So with you catering to his needs and wants, necessities and desires, while being under the order to relax and allow his body to heal itself, you bet he’s gained a softer image.

He’s banned from going to the gym, and if he goes to the agency, his secretary or a sidekick keeps an eye out to make sure he doesn’t react to last-minute missions or emergencies.

You’re thankful so many other people care for him and about him, and how often his family seem to visit. Well, Fuyumi and Natsuo, on the rare occasion he is able to tag along, step through the door, but even with Shoto making amends with his father still, the older male mostly just drops off whatever he came to leave and heads back to work. Rei also visits from time to time, to the utter delight of both you and Shoto.

And in one of her latest visits, she dropped off some cute pastries she found on display. Shoto’s been mostly indulging in them, to your heart’s delight.

But then a few days later, and you catch Shoto staring at his body from the mirror, turning and checking all the small yet noticeable changes on his body. Your heart aches at his disappointment and pout, at the way his eyes already hold such a critical gaze that you realize what you haven’t been doing for such a long while.

When was the last time you’ve fucked him?

He was forbidden from going to the gym and training, but you’re sure sex isn’t out of the question. You’d just have to be more gentle, maybe not so fast.

You don’t really sneak up on him, he can hear and recognize your footsteps. But he startles when you wrap your arms around him from behind, placing your hands on his soft tummy and caressing the skin, tracing your name and your confessions of how much you love him. He can’t make it out, but the way you touch him has him letting out a shaky sigh, one that sounds so sad that you plant a kiss on his back.

Your hands go to his hips, squeezing them before you pull down his sweatpants, along with his boxers. Your eyes and his are on the mirror, watching how more and more of his skin begins to show and you feel how he’s trying to hide himself, try to cover up what he’s beginning to resent.

Not on your watch.

“Baby, get on the bed.”

And Shoto’s speaking gibberish after a while, his body rocking forward and back as you pound into him. He would’ve preferred you go faster, but he knows that it’s because you don’t want to hurt him.

He’d usually feel hurt, but right now? He feels like he’s glowing, whether because of your amount of praises over his new body and how much cuter he is, or because of the orgasm he was brought to a few seconds ago.

You angle your hips a certain way, rolling them as you try to reach him deeper and deeper, feeling him tremble under your hands as his hips twitch with every thrust, his plush thighs straining as they try not making him fall forward.

You’re not being as hard as you tended to be before his accident, yet he feels just as weak, even if his third orgasm is not even building as strong yet.

His drool is beginning to soak the bed, his eyes blinking back small tears as soft, high-pitched moans of what you think is “mommy” start growing louder. One of his hands near his head, gripping the sheets, slowly reaches towards his dick, whining in satisfaction as he times his strokes to your thrusts.

“You’re so good, baby.”

“Always my good boy.”

“You’re beautiful, yeah?”

“Love your softness, baby.”

“Mommy’s pretty boy, forever and always.”

And if Shoto cumming at that last sentence isn’t romantic enough for you, then him placing a hand on yours while thanking you through his happy tears should show you how much of a romantic your baby boy could be.

[caleiiiii]

mcyt subway au pt 4 - ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

check out the master post here !

halloween

phil lets everyone dress up for the halloween weekend as long as they wear the nametag and hat

tubbo dresses up as a bee (it matches the pin on his visor :D)

tommy tries to “dress up” as schlatt, but gets denied as soon as he walks in the door

wilbur, the shift lead, decides that tommy can just. wear a sheet over his head with the eyes cut out

he has to wear the hat and nametag on the sheet tho

wilbur, quackity, and fundy decide it would be hilarious to all wear their uniforms backwards

hats, shirts, aprons, pants, it’s all backwards

wilbur asks fundy if hes gonna wear his fursuit (this is before the philza smackdown)

fundy is Not Pleased 

the dream team + karl dress up as hogwarts students

instantly the favorites from all the kids who come into the store

technoblade dresses up as a vampire 

isnt allowed to ring people up because of the fake fangs

eret dresses up as a king, also attempts to wear those like 5 inch platform heels

the reason he cant is because he kept hitting his head on things

niki dresses up as wednesday addams

phil told her she wasnt allowed to keep the crossbow on her :(

schlatt just shows up in his everyday clothes

when quackity asks who hes dressed up as schlatt just responds

“God”

no one else asks any questions

the proofer incident

one time tubbo was sick and couldn’t work his shift

everyone else was busy so phil let tommy and wilbur work it alone

since tubbo always bakes the bread, tommy had to do it

(for context, you have to proof bread before you bake it so it rises)

so tommy placed all the dough in the proofer to proof

but he didnt set the timer right

cut to a few hours later

the two are just finishing up a big rush when wilbur looks into the proofer

“tommy, you do know how to set the timer on the proofer, right?”

“what timer?”

tommy looks into the proofer

its just

dough

so much dough

(when you overproof dough it gets really big)

wilbur starts CACKLING 

tommy just. stares

they run out of bread that evening

languages

tubbo asks niki to teach him german one night

niki decides to hang up a bunch of sticky notes on items around with the store with the german word for it

fundy and quackity begin to do the same for dutch and spanish respectively

phil tells them as long as its in the back room he doesnt mind

speedrunning sandwiches

dream is hella good at making sandwiches

prides himself on being pretty damn good at his job

one day he hears rumors about a worker from another subway store who is super fast at making sandwiches

dream, curious, asks what location and decides to pay a visit to this newfound competitor

when he gets there, he meets illumina

the guy is just so fast at making sandwiches

dreams internal monolouge: “oh, this is my new rival”

as illumina is making his sandwich hes just like. mentally taking notes

he starts going to the other subway like about 3-4 days a week

everytime he asks for illumina to make his sandwich

every single time

time skip to two ish weeks later or smth

dream has made way too many google docs and spreadsheets over this

once he was editing it on the company computer and sapnap caught him and just stared in horror

he goes into the subway to order another sandwich and asks for illumina again

as dream is paying illumina kinda asks

“hey, so uh, is there a reason that you come in here like every day and always request that i make your sandwich?”

dream just. Freezes

its a weird conversation

the kitten incident(s) -an expansion on an idea by @trademarked-but-not-really !

schlatt, despite the façade he puts up, is a big softie

one time he finds a tiny kitten on his way to work

in a split second decision he just. brings the kitten to work

places the cat in his cubby behind his sweatshirt

during his lunch break he goes to the back room to play with the kitten

quackity catches schlatt holding the kitten and baby-talking it

“who’s a good kitty? you are! you-”

“uh, schlatt, what are you doing?”

quackity gets so much blackmail

“if you tell anyone about this you’re dead.”

quackity uses his blackmail to get out of so much stuff

after that incident, schlatt gets better at hiding the kittens

there are still some slip ups tho

phil: “is that cat hair on the floor?”

schlatt, hiding a kitten in his apron: “no... hopefully”

after his shift he always brings the kittens to the local animal shelter

he also volunteers there during his free time

one time niki comes in to adopt a cat and walks in only to see schlatt holding 3 small kittens

one in each hand, and another climbing up his shoulder

they just -stare- at eachother

needless to say, another person gains blackmail on schlatt that day

trade-offs

tommy, tubbo, and wilbur haggle and trade doing certain tasks

mainly sweeping the store and stocking the chips display

these trades get VERY intense

“i’ll start on freezer pulls if you sweep and mop” “only if you do prep work tomorrow” “deal!”

“i’ll let you bake bread and cookies if you also stock the chip display” “ugh, fine”

one day phil comes in to do inventory just to see the three boys standing by the task list screaming at each other

luckily only bad and skeppy were in the shop

schlatt and wilbur origins

when schlatt  first started working at subway, he always got paired with wilbur on shifts

(this is before tommy and tubbo started working at subway)

they got along like a house on fire

they always made up bets to complete while they worked

on their first shift alone they decided to play a hellish rendition of “the floor is lava”

whoever lost had to buy the others meals for a month

skeppy and bad agreed to be the referees for the day

they took extra chairs from the back and placed them around the shop so they could get around without touching the floor

they even put chairs behind the bain (the area behind the counter)

after they set everything up, the game began

from then on, they spent the whole day perched on chairs

customers were

very confused

to say the least

many tasks were done poorly or not at all in an attempt to win the bet

the two survive until the end of the day with no major failures

in a last ditch attempt to win, schlatt made a dramatic final speech and pushed wilbur from the chair he was standing on

skeppy recorded the whole speech

unfortunately, wilbur hit the floor just as phil arrived

the manager in question was PISSED

wilbur and schlatt were banned from working together in the future

feel free to send my asks about this au!! also, if you write/draw anything for this au, please tag me!!! i’d love it see it :D

tag list :)

@i-am-a-wizard @eva-ticket @oakskull @thesmpisonfire @trademarked-but-not-really @orange-is-salty-tm @pixelatedrose @hollow-hypocrite @astrono @nootella23 @hot-dumbass @jen-dot-net @karlljacobs @gearstorm @nico-nat @marvel-snowbaz

[imaginedhaven]

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Eleven

Link to Masterpost

Kind of filler-y, I guess, but we’re almost to some juicier chapters! Enjoy!

Today’s prompts:

Aelin stealing clothes from Rowan’s laundry

Rowan being scandalized by Aelin’s laundry- this one was actually a DM from @queen-of-glass, rather than an ask! I BET YOU THOUGHT I FORGOT ABOUT THIS, DIDN’T YOU. WELL, I DIDN’T BECAUSE IT’S GOLD.

and

“It’s not mine, I swear!” / “How is it not yours?”

~*~*~

Aelin slipped down the stairs in sock-clad feet, basket of dirty laundry perched on her hip as the clothes dryer beeped. In the two weeks that had passed since Rowan’s nightmare, she had taken it upon herself to take over laundry for the both of them. It was the least she could do, as she had been summarily banned from the kitchen altogether after that incident.

Rowan had fussed at her a little when she’d first done it, insisting that he could take care of himself, but he’d eventually caved. She wasn’t sure how much of it was due to the lingering awkwardness of that one night she’d inadvertently spent in his bed, but if that’s what it took then she supposed at least one good thing had come out of it.

She genuinely hadn’t intended to fall asleep, only to stay long enough to make sure he had fallen asleep. But instead, she had awakened at the sound of his door quietly closing, wrapped around his pillow as though it were a lover. She had lingered there until she was positive he had left for the day before flying out of his bed and rushing to the safety of her own room.

Aelin sighed and shook her head before opening the door of the dryer, pulling all of the newly-dried clothing into a separate basket for clean clothes. Moving quickly so that she could fold the clothes while they were still warm and relatively free of wrinkles, she dumped the newly-washed clothes into the dryer and started it, then loaded her next load of laundry into the washing machine before moving away to the couch with the clean clothes.

She had soft music playing in the background, but even without that she would’ve found the repetitive motions soothing as she folded the shirts, smoothing the wrinkles out of each one before moving to the next. Before she knew it, she was left with two neat piles of clothing—one for herself, and one for Rowan. Perfect. She had time to sneak into the kitchen and see what she could swipe for a snack before the next round.

At least, it was perfect until she spilled the milk intended for her cookies down the front of her shirt instead.

“Shit,” she hissed, both at the embarrassment and at the cold wet sensation. At least Rowan hadn’t been here to see it; he would’ve mocked her endlessly for it. Not to mention, it would’ve been far more awkward to simply strip her shirt off had her roommate been around to see her parading about topless through the house.

Since she was already doing laundry, it was a simple task to toss the soiled shirt into the next pile. However, she would also need to find something else to wear, before Rowan got back in an hour.

A simple grey undershirt sat at the top of Rowan’s neatly-folded pile of laundry. She knew it would still be warm, and the material was impossibly soft. It was plain, with no designs, so it wouldn’t be immediately obvious that she had taken it from him. She could venture up to her room and grab one of her own shirts of course, but with such a tempting option right there…

What Rowan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

The shirt was exactly as soft as she’d known it would be, gently caressing her bare skin as she slid it over her head. It was perfect, really; she hadn’t intended to go put on a bra, and to know she wouldn’t need to in order to be comfortable was a relief. The hem fell to her mid-thigh, the garment almost comically large on her smaller frame, but that was okay. Shirts worn with leggings were supposed to be large enough and long enough to cover all the important places, anyway.

Carefully, she picked up the remainder of his pile of clothes and slipped into his room to set them at the foot of his bed alongside her previous rounds. Mission completed, she glanced at the pillows and bit her lip as her cheeks grew warm. What should have been an innocuous display of an immaculately-made bed was still bringing back memories of soft sheets and pine-scented pillows and fingers carefully entwined with her own.

She shook her head and left, and it took a surprising amount of effort not to slam the door behind her as she fled the scene.

Gods, whatever this was, she had it bad. She could practically hear Sam and Lysandra both laughing at her and telling her she needed to get laid. Maybe they were right; she hadn’t been with anyone since escaping Rifthold, and maybe this was just a symptom of how long it had been.

The front door opened before she could think about it any further, and she darted back down the stairs to gather her own laundry and greet her roommate.

His eyes immediately focused on her as she rounded the corner, before narrowing. “That’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

Damn. How on earth had he figured it out so quickly? “Why would you think that? Oversized shirts are normal to wear with leggings.”

Rowan smirked. “That might’ve worked if I hadn’t seen what you normally wear for ‘leggings as pants’ days.”

Shit. Well, it had been worth trying. “So familiar with my wardrobe,” she purred instead. “Someone might wonder how you know what clothing I have so… intimately.”

Damn, he didn’t even blush at the suggestion. “Aelin, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that we live together and therefore I’m pretty sure I’ve seen most of what you consider to be casual loungewear.”

Fine. “Just for that, I’m keeping it!”

He called after her as she headed up the stairs with her own laundry. “Don’t think I don’t know you still haven’t given me back those pajama pants, either! What could you possibly be hoarding my clothes for? They don’t even fit you.”

Shit. Better to pretend she hadn’t heard that, since she hadn’t even begun to prepare an answer for why she hadn’t given those back yet. Instead, she quietly retreated into her room, putting her clothes away before grabbing a book and sprawling onto her bed.

She wasn’t sure exactly how much time passed, but before long there was a soft knocking at her door. “I’d ask if you’re decent, but I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.”

Aelin laughed and opened the door. “Never am. What’s up?”

A scrap of lace Aelin barely recognized as a crop top was dangling from the tips of Rowan’s fingers as though the material would burn him if any more of him came into contact with it. How had…? “That’s not mine, I swear,” she finally said.

“This ought to be good. Fine. How is it not yours?”

“It’s Lysandra’s,” Aelin admitted. “She encouraged me to borrow it, the last time we went out.”

Rowan snorted out a laugh. “So it’s not just me you’re hoarding clothes from.”

Aelin snatched the top out of his loose grip. “We’re not talking about this. Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” The tips of his ears went pink as he pulled out underwear that was definitely Aelin’s. “I’m presuming you didn’t steal these away from an unwitting friend.”

“Um. No.”

“They don’t have a back. Why do they not have a back?”

Aelin took the underwear back, carefully detangling the series of straps that made up the backside. “Rowan. You were married. To a woman.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with this.”

“It means I’m assuming you’ve seen women’s underwear before.”

“Nothing like that.”

“Hm, that’s a shame. They’re fun.” She smirked as she set them aside on her desk to put away later. “Maybe someday you’ll find someone willing to show you.”

“Are you assuming I’ve been celibate this whole time?”

Aelin turned to rearrange one of her drawers, hoping the motion hid the flush of her cheeks and the sudden trembling of her fingers. “I’m not assuming anything,” she lied. “Well, except that no one’s worn anything like that for you, since you seem so confused.”

“Hm.”

Gods, could they talk about literally anything else? This wasn’t a conversation she was ready to have. “Now. Is there anything else from your laundry that may or may not actually be mine?”

He shook his head, and she breathed a small sigh of relief. “Not this time.”

“Okay, good. You’re welcome, then.”

He frowned. “Welcome? For what?”

Aelin grinned. “For the free entertainment.”

As she had known would happen, he grumbled something she couldn’t quite hear and left. Once the door closed behind him, she flopped back onto her bed and groaned into a pillow.

Gods, the sight of him delicately handling her underthings was one she had not at all been prepared for, and even the memory of it was still doing things to her. Not to mention his voice; it was as though his deep and lilting accent had been made to talk about sex, and it had wrapped around her like his shirt had earlier.

Are you assuming I’ve been celibate this whole time?

Gods help her, she had been assuming exactly that, if only to preserve her own sanity. She had been carefully not thinking about Rowan and sex in the same sentence for so long, and now that he had absolutely shattered that with a single question she wasn’t sure what to do.

There likely wasn’t much of anything she could do. He’d made it so clear that he saw her as simply a roommate—one to which he had warmed up, if only begrudgingly, but barely a friend and certainly not a…

What did she even hope this would be, anyway?

Aelin sighed and shook her head. It was pointless to think about, and nearly impossible to believe. She needed to get this out of her head before she did something stupid like crawl into his bed again and never leave.

Decision made, she reached for her phone and sent a text to Lysandra. You were right.

Her friend’s reply was almost immediate. I’m always right. What am I right about now, exactly?

Maybe it’s time for me to try to put myself out there again.

That’s my girl. Got any ideas, or are Sam and I supposed to set you up?

Aelin snorted. You’re impossible. I don’t know yet.

Well, figure it out. I’ve gotta know how I’m supporting you here.

I don’t want to be all the way set up, but I guess I’m open to suggestions?

I GOT U BB. <3

Aelin smiled and tucked her phone away before swearing and snatching at it as her pretimed alarm went off. Laundry day waited for no roommate crisis, it seemed.

She supposed she should probably feel a bit lighter as she darted back down the stairs for the next round of laundry. Instead, though, she only felt nerves. Maybe she had been out of the game too long after all, and this change would only do her good.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @livsdriverslicense @courtofjurdan @danibutterr @woollycat22 @rowaelinismyotp @sleeping-and-books @acciowests @stardelia

[jobean12-blog]

hello my love!!! I wondered if I could request something sexy and fun!! I was thinking of reader and Bucky being in a new relationship, they haven't had sex yet and he invites her to sleep over at the compound one night. Reader has like a boob sore so she can't wear a bra and sleeps in her tank top. morning after, Bucky wakes up first and sees her boob has fallen out of her top, he was trying to remain a gentleman but after seeing that he wants her? Hehe i love you and thank you for everything❤️

Morning Glory

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,412

Summary: Spending the night at Bucky’s for the first time has you very excited and a morning surprise really moves the relationship along...

Author’s Note: Thank you for requesting this love! I had fun writing it and hope it makes you happy! This is real life and happens to me all the time, even when I wear those CK bralette thingies. Never fails. Now if Bucky was in my bed....well. haha! Love you! Thank you all for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: sweet fluff, light teasing and flirting, lots of kissing, Steve and Sam being themselves, implied sexy times :) 

Standing in your apartment you stare at your empty overnight bag, cursing your indecision. Bucky invited you to spend the night at his place, aka the Avengers compound, and you have no idea what to pack to wear for the night or bedtime or the next morning! You don’t normally sleep in a bra and you don’t want to just because you’re staying at his place. Rifling through your pajama drawer you find a cute blue tank top with matching boy shorts, deciding it works fine and will be comfy.

Stuffing it in the bag you search around for your toiletries, double checking you have everything you need before leaving. Bucky meets you outside and greets you with a searing kiss. It takes you a moment to catch your breath afterwards and you’re wondering how you’ll be able to control yourself when you share a bed tonight.

Bucky has been a gentleman from the moment you met and ever since you first starting dating, which wasn’t too long ago. It’s the first time you’ll be spending the whole night together and you’re feeling both excited and nervous. Of course, as soon as you’re in his presence you feel completely comfortable and happy.

The early part of your evening is spent cooking dinner together, Bucky suggesting you try to make a pizza. “Bucky, I’m not sure I can do the whole throw the dough in the air thing,” you say, staring down at the yeasty mixture. “Me neither but I’m gonna give it a try!” You giggle and step back watching as Bucky tries to pick up the sticky dough.

Once he has it in his hands, he gives you an apprehensive look before saying, “here goes nothin’!” He tries to throw it but fails when he doesn’t put enough force behind it. “Ok, here we really go,” he laughs. Bending his knees, he releases the dough. It flies just above his head, hovering for a split second before landing back on his hands and ripping.

Bucky stands in shocked silence and your hand flies over your mouth to stifle your laughter. He finally looks your way, his lips turning up into a smirk, “something you find funny, doll?” You can’t hold back any longer, bursting into a fit of giggles and pointing at him. “Oh my gosh, you should see your face!”

Bucky tries to wipe off his hands as best he can before he stalks over to you, caging you against the island with his arms. Your breath hitches at the closeness of his body and your hands instinctively reach out to smooth down his chest. “I wish I got that on camera,” you say, continuing to tease him, “and I think you have some dough in your hair.”

He leans his face close to yours, brushing the hair from your cheek, “hmmmm, I bet you do.” When his mouth meets yours you completely melt against him, a sigh falling from your lips as he parts them with his tongue. Running his thumb across your jaw he cradles your face in his hand, deepening the kiss just as a throat clears loudly behind you.

Bucky hesitantly pulls away, his eyes soft on you but then thunderous when they stare over your shoulder. “Rogers. You better have a good reason for interrupting us.” Steve raises his brows and chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest in a very Captain America way. “Hi y/n. Nice to see you again.” You give Steve a shy wave, “hi Steve, you too.”

“Actually, this time I do. I smelled something burning and figured I should check it out before the compound gets a shower.” Both you and Bucky spin to face the oven, the slight wisps of smoke starting to leak out the sides. “Oh shit,” Bucky shouts, quickly turning the oven off and alerting Friday that they have it under control. “THE COOKIES!” you yell in horror! “I can’t believe we forgot about them!”

Steve laughs first and you and Bucky can’t help but follow suit. “Well, if you didn’t have your tongues down each other throats you might have remembered,” Steve scolds before laughing again and walking off. “Ugh, I’m gonna kick him in his righteous ass,” Bucky mumbles.

Turning to you, he gathers you in his arms and says, “now, where were we,” pressing his lips to yours once again. You gently pull away just to ask, “what about dinner? And more importantly! Dessert!?” His nose scrunches as he smiles wide, “let’s just order a pizza and steal Sam’s Oreos. Yea?” You simply nod, leaning in to kiss him again.

“I heard you two were starting a fire in here!” Sam chimes from the doorway. Bucky groans, grabbing your hand and walking down the hallway without a word. “Hi y/n!” Sam says as he gives you his best smile. ��Hey Sam! Good to see you!” you call out just before disappearing around the corner.

Bucky huffs as he shuts the door. “They can be such a pain in the ass sometimes!” You laugh and pull your phone from your pocket. “I’ll order the pizza; you snag the cookies and then we’ll have the rest of the night uninterrupted.” Bucky practically skips out the door when you start dialing for the pizza and only moments later you hear Sam yelling, “where the hell are you going with my Oreos?!?!”

Dinner is perfect and after eating a whole sleeve of Oreos dipped in milk you and Bucky settle in on the couch to watch a movie. Not even halfway through Bucky has you pinned to the couch, his lips devouring yours as his hands wander over your dips and curves. You moan into his mouth and he pulls away, breathing heavily when he speaks. “I want you so badly, but I want to do this the right way, you know.”

You’re barely able to manage the nod of your head, all your brain power gone with his strong body above you and his hands on your skin. You want to tell him you don’t care that you really like him and you’re ready to take the next step. But you don’t want to push him either, so you remain silent. He pulls you into his side, holding you close while you finish the movie.

It’s almost midnight and you stifle a yawn, snuggling closer into Bucky. “You ready for bed, doll?” You smile up at him, “yes, I think so.” You go into the bathroom to wash up and change. When you come out you watch as Bucky takes in your appearance, his jaw clenched tight and his eyes dark. “You’re not making this easy you know.” He plants a sweet kiss to your lips before he goes to change.

You get in bed and burrow under the covers, loving that you’re surrounded by his smell. He gets in soon after, pulling you against his chest and nuzzling his face into your neck. “I’m really glad you’re here baby girl. I love having you in my bed.” Throwing your leg over his you mumble into his chest, “me too, Buck.”

Morning arrives and you slowly wake up, the warmth of Bucky’s body still close as you stretch and yawn. You feel a slight chill at your chest, moving to pull the blanket further up your body but stopping short when you brush bare skin. Cracking open your eyes you look down and to your surprise see that your tank top did little to hold things in place while you were sleeping.

Bucky’s sharp intake of breath catches your attention and you look over to find him staring. “Morning beautiful,” he whispers, licking his lips. “Hi,” you say quietly, smirking at how hot and bothered he looks. “Sorry, I don’t usually wear a bra to sleep.” Bucky doesn’t say anything, he just keeps staring and you can see his internal struggle.

You slowly get up, fixing your shirt and running your hand over the hardness that is evident under his boxers. “Meet me in the shower in 2?” you ask sweetly, lightly brushing your lips to his. He practically falls out of the bed, the sheets tangled around his legs as he stumbles forward. “Fuck yes, doll. I can’t wait.”  You saunter to the bathroom, knowing full well half your ass cheek is hanging out of your boy shorts. Bucky’s low growl carries across the room, your smile triumphant just as you turn on the shower.  

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @azurika-writes @buckys-broody-muffin @book-dragon-13 @bugsbucky @bucky-on-my-mind @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hawksmagnolia @hailmary-yramliah @imgaril-lindru @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @loricameback @jewels2876 @littleredstarfish @littledarlinhavefaithinme @mushyjellybeans @metal-armed-cuddly-dork  @marvelgirl7 @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @scarletsoldierrr @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky

[flameo-firelord-hotman]

Fortune Cookie — Zuko x GN!Reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: one (1) swear word and some implications at the end (characters are aged up)

Words: 2k

Summary: the Gaang orders Chinese takeout, and everyone reads their fortune cookie fortunes. Yours and Zuko’s spark a little something.

A/N: I had a fortune cookie the other day, and it reminded me of that episode in S1 when they go to the fortune teller. Fun fact: I used to collect those little fortunes! 🥠 Anyway, enjoy the fic :)

Masterlist

“What can I say?” Sokka shrugged with a mouthful of takeout, “I know the best places to eat around campus.”

“I hope you aren’t full yet. We still have our fortune cookies to eat,” Suki said, dangling a wrapped cookie from her hand.

You took it from her. “Oh please, like I’d ever pass on dessert.”

She then tossed a fortune cookie to everyone else.

“Let’s share our fortunes!” Katara suggested as she unwrapped her cookie.

“Don’t tell me you actually believe these things,” Sokka sighed while rolling his eyes.

“What? They’re fun to read! I’ll start.” She broke her cookie open, removed the tiny slip of paper inside and read her fortune aloud. “Mine says ‘you will be showered with good luck.’ Maybe that means I’ll do well on my midterms!”

“Hmm...mine says ‘nothing is impossible to a willing heart.’ That’s inspiring, I like it!” Aang said with a sweet smile.

“I’ll go next!” Suki said with a mouthful of cookie. “‘If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always gotten.’ That’s quite true!” She nodded. Everyone hummed in agreement.

“Alright, you know what. I’ll read mine,” Sokka decided. He squinted his eyes at the tiny piece of paper. “It says...‘you will be hungry in one hour.’ Seriously?!”

Everyone burst out laughing. “I think we can all agree, of all the fortunes so far, yours is the most true,” you chuckled.

“Okay then, [y/n], what does yours say?” Sokka sneered.

“Let’s see,” you said as you delicately held the slip of paper to your eyes. “‘Your love life will soon be happy and harmonious.’”

“Oooh, that’s quite a fortune, [y/n]!” Katara commented.

“I wonder who you’ll be with?” Aang pondered.

Suki nudged you with her elbow. “Someone handsome I bet!”

You never really believed these things, but you wished it was true, and you wished it was Zuko. You’ve always had a crush on him. Since you met him, there hasn’t been a single day you didn’t think about him. You hoped that someday he would confess to feeling the same way about you.

For just a second, you glanced at Zuko. He was staring at you, so you quickly averted your gaze to not seem obvious. Was that a hint of blush on his cheeks? No, it must’ve been your imagination, or maybe the lighting.

Heat built up in your face from feeling a little embarrassed, not just because of Zuko, but also from all the teasing. “Oh, stop guys,” you giggled.

“Yeah, stop guys. I wanna hear Toph and Zuko’s,” Sokka said in a bored tone.

“You’re just upset that your fortune is so stupid, it’s true,” Katara snickered.

“Well, you won’t believe what mine says,” Toph said. “It says ‘you will win a million dollars!’” She cheered.

“What?!” Sokka shouted. Everyone stared at him with raised eyebrows. Then, the look on his face shifted as he realized. “I hate you, Toph.”

“Ha! Blind jokes never fail,” Toph said proudly.

“Here, I’ll read it for you,” you said, taking the tiny slip of paper from Toph. “Your fortune is ‘you will never know your full potential until you try.’”

“So what it’s saying is, I should try punching Sokka even harder,” Toph said, cracking her knuckles.

“Please don’t,” Sokka quietly begged.

“Toph!” Aang cried, “no violence allowed!”

Toph groaned, “you guys are no fun. But I don’t care, I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Anyway,” Katara interrupted, “that leaves you, Zuko!”

“Um...okay. It’s kind of weird though,” he said hesitantly.

“It can’t possibly be as bad as Sokka’s,” Katara jeered.

Zuko gulped before bashfully reading aloud. “Mine says...‘now is the time to pursue that love interest.’”

If you thought you were blushing before, you were really doing it now. Your face was like a tomato. Fortunately for you, everyone was staring at Zuko. They didn’t know your secret. Sokka began laughing.

“Okay, I admit that I don’t believing these things, but I know for a fact that that fortune is completely true. I mean, come on, buddy! What have I been saying for the past—“

“Ugh, shut up, Sokka!” Zuko barked, “it’s just a stupid fortune.”

“Wait, do you actually have a crush on someone?” Katara asked sincerely. He didn’t respond. Instead, he blushed and avoided everyone’s gaze. “It’s okay, Zuko, you can tell us. We can help you!”

“No,” Zuko grumbled, as he stood up. “I’m going home now.” And with the slam of the door, he was gone.

“Sheesh, Sparky sure is a drama queen,” Toph said, crossing her arms.

“Sokka, do you know who he likes?” Suki asked.

“Yes, and if I told you, he would give me a matching scar.” Sokka pointed to his left eye.

“Well, clearly he’s really upset about it,” you started as you stood to leave. “I’ll go talk to him.”

As Zuko rushed back to his apartment, he couldn’t help but think of you. Sokka and that stupid fortune were right. He should’ve asked you out long ago. But what if you didn’t feel the same way?

He felt so humiliated. It was bad enough that he was a coward, and that he had to deal with Sokka’s teasing on a daily basis, but now he had that little sheet of paper mocking him too.

He wondered what you thought of your fortune. Did it mean anything to you? When he heard it, he immediately thought of you and him together. But it was wishful thinking. So, he wondered if it was about you and someone else...and he felt jealous.

Zuko slapped his forehead. “I can’t believe how stupid I am. I’m getting worked up over some fortune cookies that probably don’t mean anything at all. This is pathetic!” He cried.

You should’ve brought a coat. The autumn night air was chilly. Nevertheless, you hurried to Zuko and Sokka’s apartment. You hoped to find him on the way—he couldn’t have gotten too far—but it was hard to see. Only the nearly full moon and the street lamps dimly lit the way for you.

Surely, he would tell you why he was so upset. You two always talked about your problems with each other. One of the best things about your friendship was how comfortable you felt with him. You could tell him anything...anything except that you liked him, and that you thought he was cute, and that the way he smiled made your heart flutter, and that whenever he whispered funny things about Sokka to you in that low raspy voice of his, you felt shivers run down your spine, and that you just wanted to hold him or be held by him, and that you wondered what it felt like to kiss him...no, actually, you could tell him anything except that you loved him.

You desperately wanted to ask Zuko what Sokka was talking about. Was it true? Did he really have a crush on someone? Who? And for how long? But maybe it was best not to know. Fear of finding out he loved someone else crept into your mind. Ignorance is bliss, after all.

Suddenly, you considered turning around and going back. Being so comfortable and open with each other might mean Zuko would tell you about his crush, and, had it been you, he would’ve said something by now, right? Sokka seemed to imply that this had been going on for a while. That meant it had to be someone else.

You stood outside his apartment building, staring at the door, debating whether to press the buzzer or not, debating whether to have your heart broken or not. Before you could decide, the door opened.

“[Y/n], what are you doing out here? You’re shivering,” Zuko said with concern.

“I j-just wanted to make sure y-you were okay.”

He gestured for you to come in, and you did.

“I saw you walking over in the front window. Why didn’t you just text me?” He asked as he poured a hot cup of tea.

You took the cup and shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think of it.”

“Well, I’m fine. I’ve been a little stressed lately over studying for exams, and I kind of exploded, because Sokka was being, well, Sokka. You know how annoying he can be,” he chuckled before taking a sip from his own cup. What a lie that was, but you wouldn’t know it.

“That makes sense. I was worried when you left so suddenly.”

You wanted to ask him, you wanted to know so badly, but you didn’t know how to bring it up. Zuko couldn’t help but wonder as well. His mind raced as he tried to think of a way to talk to you.

“Um, Zuko, I—“       //       “[Y/n], there’s som—”

Both of you stared at each other for a moment.

“Sorry, go ahead,” you said.

“Um, okay.” Zuko took a deep breath before continuing, “there’s something I need to tell you. I wish I had told you long ago, but I was too afraid. And I’m tired of keeping it bottled up, so I’m just going to say it now. I kind of...no, I do, I mean, I—ugh...I have had...uh, feelings for you...for a while. Like, I think I...I love you.”

By the time Zuko finished rambling, his face was flushed and his heart was pounding. You stared at him, stunned, elated and relieved. But he didn’t dare look at you, instead he dropped his head to stare at his feet.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that to me.”

Zuko shot up. He saw you smiling brightly and approaching him. You reached up to cup his cheeks. He rested his hands on your waist. His hands were slightly trembling from all the anxiety he felt in this moment.

“Really?” He asked in a shaky voice.

“Yes, really. That’s actually what I was going to talk to you about. I love you too, Zuko. I have for a while now.”

Zuko smiled. Without a second thought, he crashed his lips on yours. You leaned in and tangled your fingers in his dark, shaggy hair. Running a hand up your back and wrapping the other around your waist, he brought you closer and squeezed you like you were the only thing he had left. His arms were warm, his chest was warm, even his lips were warm. You melted right into him.

A moment later, the two of you pulled away, panting. The kiss was so passionate and long overdue, that it left you both exhausted. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his fast-beating heart. He rested his head on yours and rubbed circles on your back with his thumb.

“So...is your love life happy and harmonious now?” Zuko asked.

“Yes, all thanks to you pursuing that love interest!”

He laughed. “I can’t believe this happened, because of some stupid fortunes in a cookie.”

“I wouldn’t call them stupid. They’re the only fortunes that I’ve known to be true.”

Katara checked her phone for the fifth time. “[Y/n] still hasn’t responded, or even read my text. It’s been a half hour now!”

Suki rested a hand on her shoulder, “I’m sure they’re fine.”

“At this point, they’re probably making out,” Sokka mumbled as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone, not even bothering to look up. The room fell silent as everyone turned to him. “Shit, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Zuko has a crush on [y/n]?!” Aang’s jaw dropped.

Toph shrugged, “it makes sense. I’ve noticed that Sparky’s heart rate goes through the roof whenever he’s with [y/n]. Theirs gets pretty high too when Zuko is around.”

“Well, that explains a lot. Those two are definitely making out then,” Katara nodded. Everyone else hummed in agreement.

“So, Sokka...do you want to stay the night with us then?” Aang asked.

“Yes, please.”

[dreamingwithbts]

Demon (Boku No Hero) - Chapter 22

Warning: Swearing, Some Violence

I was eating some cookies on the couch while watching TV, and I’m changing the channels until something caught my eyes. “Today’s topic is: “Is sexiness necessary for hero work?” The host says, while I stay looking at the screen. “What the fuck?” I say out loud to the stupid thing I heard, then see Mount Lady and Midnight fight. “Was Stain right? Does the new heroes just care about their own appearance? Shit.” I say, feeling a headache coming.

Everyone was attentive, listening to Aizawa-sensei. “Okay, that’s it for class. There’s only one week left until the final exams. You all are studying properly, right?” Aizawa-sensei asks us. “Sure, sure.....” I think nervous remembering me all these days, sleeping on the couch after eating and sleeping on the bed with book beside me. “I’m sure you already know, but it won’t just be a written exam. There’s also a practical component. Make sure you train your minds and bodies at the same time. That’s all.” Aizawa-sensei says then leaves the class and everyone started complaining and screaming because they aren’t been studying, like me. “I have been sleeping all these days instead of studying!” I scream, tears on my face while I half laid my body on my table. “Aka-cha... Why didn’t try to wake up and study?” Izuku asks me, trying not to laugh. “Because sleeping is a gift and study isn’t!” I say dreaming looking at Izuku with almost hearts on my eyes and suddenly someone punches me in the head. “WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU STUDY? YOU BETTER PASS THE EXAMS!” Katsuki screams on my face. “I AM TRYING, BUT SLEEPING IS TOO GOOD!” I scream back. “LIKE HELL! YOU’RE JUST LAZY!” He screams. “NOT I’M NOT!” I scream back then we went silence when everyone started making study groups then Kirishima came to us. “Look at the difference in virtue.” Kirishima says to us and I nod, then we look back at Katsuki who was still angry. “I can do it, too! Want me to beat it into you?” Katsuki says scaring us. “Yeah, I’m counting on you!” Kirishima says way too excited. “You too Akuma!” Katsuki says. “I’m too scared to go, but I don’t think a have a choice....” I say scared of teacher Katsuki making Kirishima laugh.

Lunchtime came quickly, and before I could join Izuku and the others, a hand came to my wrist and drag me with him. “You sure love dragging me everywhere.” I say to Katsuki. “I bet you like it.” He says, smirking, making me blush a little. “Hey guys!” I say to the others and Mina started immediately talking to me, excited about something.

Again in class I was listening to Mina and Kaminari talking, then of course Katsuki had to talk. “It doesn’t matter if they’re people or robots. They’re the same if you beat them up, right? What are you idiots talking about it being a cinch for?” Katsuki says. “Who are you calling an idiot?!” Kaminari says, pointing at Katsuki. “Shut up! If you need to control your Quirk, then control it! Idiot!” Katsuki says getting angry again. “Well, you just destroy everything in front of you. Do you have your Quirk controlled?” I ask him, teasing him, and he looks at me furious, and I see Kaminari giggling behind him. “SHUT UP!” He screams at me making me laugh then he just turns to Izuku. “Hey, Deku!” He says. “Oh, no....” I think looking between them. “I don’t know if you’ve figured out how to use your Quirk a little or what, but you seriously keep rubbing me the wrong way.” He then continues to talk towards him. “I’ll kill you! Todoroki, you too!” He finishes. “Katsuki. Calm down. Now.” I say serious, now getting up. “Tch.” He says, looking into my eyes, angry but calmer. “Let’s go.” I say getting my bag, and he leaves first while I wave bye to everyone.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen Bakugo that intense.” Kirishima says. “Aka-san must have a lot of patience to be with him.” Yaoyorozu says. “She’s a goddess!” Kaminari says. “I wish I had her courage and strength.” Jiro says, and everyone agrees. “They make a cute couple!” Mina says excited. “A powerful one, ribbit.” Asui says.

“Did you really had to say stuff like that?” I ask Katsuki while we walk on the corridor. “Tch.” He says, his hands in his pockets, and I slap his head. “USE YOUR WORDS, DUMBASS!” I scream. “WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE MY OLD HAG!?” He screams, and we scream at each other, not noticing Aizawa-sensei listening to us. “Bakugo has gotten worse than I thought, but at least he has Aka with him and vice versus.” Aizawa thinks.

Everyone was studying, alone or in groups, while Kirishima and I were under fire with Katsuki who was yelling and hit us with his notebook. “WRONG! WRONG!” He yells at us. “Sorry...” I smile nervous to the coffee shop waitress. “FOCUS!” Katsuki hits my head and I went back to studying. “We are going to die....” Kirishima whispers to me. “I think I prefer to die than this...” I say and he nods. “FOCUS!” Katsuki yells. “Yes, sir!” We say nervous.

The written exam day came, and I could feel everyone was nervous. “Okay, you got this.” I think. “Oh, this one was easy. I actually know this one!” I think happy. “Thank you, Katsuki and the deadly notebook.” I think. “Okay, I finished.” I sigh in relief, then I look at Katsuki playing with his pencil, very bored. “What the fuck....? How long did he finished the exam?” I think looking at him shocked, then he looks back at me confused. “Pencils down, everybody. The last person in each row, collect the answer sheets and bring them here.” Aizawa-sensei says. I get up and hug Katsuki. “What are you doing?!” Katsuki complains but doesn’t push me away. “Thank you, thank you! I actually knew most of the answers!” I say happy. “Ya, ya. You’re welcome.” Katsuki says, smiling at me. “Kacchan is smiling...at Aka-chan!” Izuku thinks, looking at the not yet couple.

Then the practical exam came, and we were escorted to the practical exam area, center plaza. Everyone was in their hero costumes looking at our eight Pro-Heroes that were in front of us. “Now, we will begin the practical exam. Of course, it is possible to fail this exam. If you want to go to the training camp, then don’t make any stupid mistakes.” Aizawa-sensei says. “There are a lot of teachers...” I hear Jiro say. “Are we going to fight them?” I start thinking. “We’re fighting robot warriors like at the entrance exam, right?” Kaminari says too confidently. “Fireworks! Curry! Test of Courage!” Mina screams also excited. “For various reasons, the exam will be different starting this time!” A voice comes thought Aizawa-sensei scarf and a tiny weird white rat comes out of it. “What is that?” I ask Katsuki shocked, and he just looks at it confused. “ Principal Nezu!” Some of them say. “That’s Nezu?!” I whisper. “From now on, we want to focus on person-to-person combat and hero work, and stress teaching that is closer to actual fighting.” Nezu says now on the floor. “He’s so cute!” I whisper, looking at our principal, and Katsuki looks at me weirdly. “We’ll have you form teams of two to fight against one teacher!” Nezu says. “Wait....two on a team, but....” I think, then Aizawa-sensei started explaining, but I was too busy thinking. “We are an uneven number, one team world be three or a solo team. Hmmmm.” I think. Aizawa-sensei started saying the teams, and Katsuki and Izuku will be fighting Dad. “Katsuki will kill both or Dad will kill both. I wish I could see this fight!” I think disappointed, but then I remember. “Aizawa-sensei! I don’t have a team!” I say my hand up and everyone looks at me in realization. “Right, since it’s an uneven number, you are in a solo team and your hero is late.” Aizawa-sensei says. “I’m here! I’m here! Sorry, I’m late!” A familiar voice says, coming from the sky and landing with the other heroes. “It’s Hawks!” The class says shocked. “Hawks!” I say smiling. “Hello, my Boobs Bird! How are you?” Hawks asks, waving at me. “Boobs...Bird...” The others whisper, shocked. “Boobs!” Mineta says drooling. “Boobs.... Bird....” Katsuki says angry. “Oh, look! Your next to your boyfriend! How cute!” Hawks says, smirking, making me and Katsuki red and the others giggle. “SHUT UP, YOU CANNIBAL!” I scream angry. “How can you scream like that to your older brother?” Hawks says, putting his hand on his heart, and before I could reply, Aizawa-sensei speaks. “Enough.” Then Principal Nezu continues. “And now, we’ll announce the teams and the teachers they’ll be up against all at once!” He says. “So, I’m the 10th fighting right before Katsuki and Izuku fight against Dad.” I think. “The time limit for the exam is thirty minutes! Your objective is either to put these handcuffs on the teacher, or to have one of you escaped from the stage!” Nezu says, and I smirk evilly towards Hawks. “Why am I feeling nervous?” He thinks sweating, looking towards Akuma.

“All right, each team will take the practical exam in order on the prepared stage. Sato, Kirishima, get ready. Those waiting their turn can watch the exams or think of strategies as a team. Do what you want. That’s all.” Aizawa-sensei says, while he and the other teachers and Hawks enter the building. “I’m going to crush that chicken wing bird!” I say evilly. “Avenge us Aka-san.” Tokoyami says supporting me. “Let’s go boys!” I say excited, going to the middle and putting my arms on Katsuki and Izuku shoulders. “Aka-chan....Kacchan...” Izuku says nervous. “Let me go! I don’t to be near Deku.” Katsuki says, trying to take off my arm. “You...will...stay!” I say in a happy angry tone, red mist covering my arm making it strong enough to hold Katsuki. “Witch!” Katsuki insults me. “Let’s go!” I say and the three of us enter the building, then Izuku separates from us after he tries to talk with Katsuki.

“Did you really had to ignore him? You guys need to plan your battle with All Might.” I say to the explosive boy. “Like I’ll talk to that nerd.” Katsuki says angry. “I’m really disappointed with you.” I say to him and ignore him looking at me with a shocked expression.

Everyone was in the room doing their own thing. I was seating, relaxing, playing with my red mist on my fingers making figures. “Team Sato and Kirishima retires due to both members losing consciousness.” A voice comes to the room. “Oh? Really? Damn, this is going to be difficult.” I say, then the next team went. “They passed. Good!” I say when Tokoyami and Asui passed, then time passed quickly, and it was my turn. “Good luck Aka-chan!” Mina says, and I see Katsuki looking at me, I look at him, and he nods at me and I nod back. “Let’s destroy this bird!” I say, walking towards the battleground.

I was face to face with Hawks in an outside battle center, in the middle of tall buildings with a huge gate behind him that says escape here. “Hi, Booby Bird! Are you ready to lose?” Hawks asks me, putting on his googles and start flying of the ground. “You ready to lose all your feathers, Cannibal?” I ask him smirking, red mist appearing all over my body while I hover off the ground. Hawks starts flying with speed towards me and sends me a lot of feathers towards me and I just teleport to the place he was, but he was ready for it and some feather that were on the ground attack me and I use my Hex Bolts towards them. “I got you!” Suddenly, Hawks says behind me and goes to hug him. “Hell no!” I say and kick him in the chest, making him fly away. “Come find me, baby bird!” He says hiding. “Dammit.” I say and hover to the floor, before I got to tired and using my mist to try to find him. “I bet his up there!” I say looking at the tallest building. “Okay, concentrate.” I say, closing my eyes, and I teleported to that huge building. “Got you.” I say tired. “Guess you did, but I’m still free!” He says then looks at me serious and starts running towards me with a sharp feather in each hand and I also run towards him, mist all over my body and I use the mist to stop him from hitting me. “You could have escaped a long time ago.” He says. “I want to see you in handcuffs, bird.” I say, and we stay fighting until under us, discreetly, I manipulate ropes of red mist. “Now, I got you.” I say, stepping away from a very confused Hawks, then suddenly my red ropes surround him and tight him up. “A little to tight there, baby bird.” Hawks pouts, while I walk towards him with the handcuffs. “Oh well. Too bad then.” I say smirking putting the handcuffs. “You’re so mean to your big brother!” Hawks complains, making me laugh.

“Team Solo Aka passes.” The voice says, and everyone who watched were amazed.

Note:Hope you like it! New chapter every Friday!

Tag List: @holaaaf @clickbait-official

[busterkeatonfanfic]

Chapter 8

Buster woke the following morning feeling like hell. His nostrils were so stuffy he could barely breathe out of them, his nose was on fire, and his mouth still tasted like blood even though he’d brushed his teeth twice before bed. He stumbled to the bathroom to look at the damage. Two small purple bruises underscored his eyes and the bridge of his nose was swollen to twice its size. His appearance confirmed that canceling filming had been the right decision. He swallowed some aspirin, cleaned his teeth again, and took a shower, letting the steam open his clogged sinuses. 

The aspirin barely touched the pain. He toweled off and pulled on a dressing gown, then poured himself a breakfast whiskey to go with the steak and eggs he ordered. Once he’d eaten, he called Nate. To his relief, he was patched over to her line; she hadn’t left for Sunday brunch at Dutch’s yet. 

“Hello?” she said.

“Hi, how are you?” he said.

She told him that she was well. 

He said, “I broke my nose in the game last night.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. How?”

He explained the eighth-inning fastball to the face. “But we won the game. 9 to 6.”

“Did you?” she said. “That’s too bad about your nose though. I’m sorry, darling.”

She sounded suitably sympathetic, but he craved more. He wanted the soothing, the I’ll-be-right-there, the kissing and canoodling. 

“How are the boys?” he said.

“The usual,” she said. “Full of the devil.”

“Good,” he said. “I won’t be filming for a few days because of my nose. You should really consider bringing them up. They’d love the steamboats and I’d like you to see the set. They say the shopping is good in Yolo, too.”

“Oh Buster,” she said, her tone telling him the answer was already a big fat no. “You know I’d love to, but six hours on a train is too much for them, don’t you think? I know you’re disappointed, but we must think of what’s best for them. And wouldn’t they be in your way? I’d have to bring Connie to mind them, and I think four is getting to be a crowd. I don’t suppose your suite would hold another four, would it?”

“Nate, you don’t have to bring the governess. I think you’re perfectly capable of managing them for a few days, don’t you? We can get a second suite or even a third, if that’s what has you concerned.”

“I’m flattered by your faith in me,” she said with a little laugh, “but you’ve never traveled with three- and five-year-old boys! I know I’m letting you down, but it’s only another month, isn’t it? Five weeks tops? That’s really not so bad when you think of it.”

“Yeah, it’s not too bad,” he said, echoing her hollowly.

“I miss you dreadfully,” she assured him, before launching into a story about the picture Dutch was filming and the party she intended to throw with her sisters at the Villa next weekend. He listened with only half an ear. He wasn’t surprised about her answer to his proposal, but he still felt lousy.

Since Bobby had been born and Nate had booted him out of the bed, he’d accepted that his needs would have to be satisfied by other women. He knew that Nate hated him for it, even though he’d stuck to his original promise and been the soul of discretion. In spite of her rejection, he still desired her and wanted to win her back, but the most she would ever permit was necking and light petting. If he so much as thought about taking things further, she’d squirm out of his grasp. He just didn’t understand, even three years since he’d last made love to her, why he couldn’t have both a wife and the rights that other husbands were entitled to. He’d gone over it in his head a thousand times. Was he a bad lover? Was it her upbringing? Peg’s sermonizing? Her religion? Could she be a lesbian? He didn’t know and God forbid he even try to broach the topic. She’d give him such a withering look before she stalked out of the room that he felt like he ought to be thrown in jail on charges of sex depravity for even mentioning the idea. 

Divorce was out of the question, naturally. There were relationships to preserve: the one with Joe for starters and those with his famous sisters-in-law. He didn’t trust that Nate wouldn’t try to keep the boys from him, either, if he tried to end it. He could just hear her saying to some attorney, ‘Well, he doesn’t see them much anyway.’ In the meantime, all the saphead could do was to keep trying vainly to find that opening in his wife’s affections. Casting her as his leading lady hadn’t worked. Building her a little love-nest, then a great big love-nest, hadn’t worked. He’d recently decided that maybe a real honeymoon instead of the post-nuptial cross-country train trip that had masqueraded as one might work on her. He figured deep down it wouldn’t change her mind, but still he had his foolish hopes. 

When Natalie was done prating, he told her he had to get ready for lunch with Joe and said his goodbyes. There wasn’t any such lunch, but he no longer wanted to talk. 

He ended up spending the afternoon at the new zoo, disguised by a fake moustache, a tweed cap, and jumper vest that constricted him in heat on what was already a sweltering day. It worked, though. No one looked twice at him. The zoo was a disappointment. To begin with, it was extraordinarily tiny, but more importantly most of the animals featured—deer, wild turkey, raccoons—could be seen if you just sat in a Muskegon tree long enough. The most exotic offering consisted of some listless-looking monkeys in cages. A pack of adolescent boys thumped on their wire enclosures and screeched at them to perform. “Pick on someone your own size!” he yelled at them, and they scattered. The monkeys blinked back at him, not seeming to care one way or the other. 

He did have dinner with Joe that night at the Italian Restaurant in the Julius Hotel. As Buster tucked into his truffle tagliatelle, Joe dropped the bomb. 

“We can’t have the flood sequence.”

Buster laughed. “It sounded like you just said ‘We can’t have the flood sequence,’ Joe, but I don’t think I heard you right,” he said, and took a bite of tagliatelle. “Good one, though.”

“I’m not kidding. Think about how it’ll look. You’ve got a river that’s supposed to be the Mississippi—”

“Sacrasippi,” Buster said, lifting his eyebrows.

“Cut it out,” said Joe, frowning. “I’m trying to be serious. You’ve got a river that’s supposed to be the Mississippi and it’s supposed to flood. Well, you know as well as I do that hundreds of people just lost their lives in the Mississippi floods.”

“Since when do you care?” said Buster. If there was one thing he’d always liked about Joe, it was that he let him alone and let him make the pictures his own way. Something about this smelled fishy.

“It’s in poor taste. It’s not going to get laughs, it’s just going to bring bad publicity. I don’t want it to flop. There’s too much money in it.”

Buster set down his fork. Two words had stuck out: publicity and money. “This is Harry, isn’t it?” he said, narrowing his eyes.

Joe gave a slight wave of his hand, dismissing the comment. “Now don’t go blaming Harry. I happen to agree with him. It would be a risky thing, and God knows what it would cost to pull it off anyway.”

“Well that god damn bean-counter,” said Buster, anger flaring. “We’ve already got everything set up for a flood! The entire god damn picture is about a flood. That’s the entire point!” Joe looked at him with a firm expression. “I’ve made up my mind. We can’t do a flood.”

“Well, we may as well can the whole picture then,” Buster said. “All my best gags are built around the flood. I can’t just start from scratch.”

“Look,” said Joe, continuing to eat his own meal. “We’re talking about lost lives here. You can see that, can’t you?”

“Horseshit,” said Buster. “Remember Chaplin’s picture Shoulder Arms? The ink wasn’t even dry on the Armistice when he released that. I remember ‘cause it was the first thing I saw after I got back from France. Everyone loved it. No one was thinking about how many soldiers had just gotten their heads and legs blown off in the war, they just knew a funny picture when they saw one.” He clenched his left fist in his lap. 

“Why not try another disaster?” Joe said.

“Like what?” he said. He stabbed at the pasta with his fork and took a bite without pleasure.

“I’m not the brains here.”

“What, like a cyclone? Joe, I bet you tornadoes and hurricanes kill more people each year than floods. Sure we wouldn’t get bad reviews and angry letters from folks whose families have been killed by tornadoes?”

Joe waved his hand again. “A cyclone sounds just fine. Anything that’s not a flood, you can do.”

It stunk to high heaven as far as Buster was concerned, but he knew Joe well enough to see when he’d made up his mind. He finished his tagliatelle in silence and didn’t even pretend he was willing to pick up the tab when Joe went to pay. He took a taxi back to the Senator and went to bed early, tossing between the sheets and stewing about his lost flood. There were butter cookies in the brown paper sack making dark greasy spots on its sides. Nelly stood outside Buster’s dressing room, her heart racing with the memory of what had happened last time she’d stepped inside it. Before she lost her nerve, she tapped on the door. 

“Come in!” called Buster. 

She slipped through and closed the door. He was sitting at his table again, not in costume today but wearing dark slacks and a long-sleeved blue jacquard shirt with faint stripes.

“Hi, it’s Nelly,” she said, by way of greeting. 

“I haven’t forgotten your name,” said Buster, one corner of his mouth quirking. “What do you have there?”

She stepped a few feet forward and extended the bag. “I made you cookies.”

He looked from the bag to her as he took it, surprised. “What did I do to deserve such an honor?”

“I heard you broke your nose,” she said. Indeed, she could see up close that his nose was swollen near the top and there were small faded bruises beneath his eyes, not noticeable unless you were next to him.

“So you baked me cookies.” He peeked inside. 

“Yes. I wanted to thank you, too,” she said, feeling the full ridiculousness of her gesture. “For taking care of me last Friday night.”

“No one’s ever made me get-well cookies before, not even my own mother. I’d just get cod-liver oil, even for sprains.” He sounded pleased.

“How’s your nose?” she said, as he bit into a cookie. 

“Hurts like the dickens,” he said, chewing. “I’m hoping the swelling will go down by Friday so I can start filming again.” He didn’t remark upon the cookie as he finished it, but she noticed he pulled another out of the bag. “We’re doing the night scenes soon.”

She was still a little fuzzy on Steamboat Bill’s plot, but this week’s filming had involved hundreds of local extras, and the grander of the two steamboats was piloted up and down the river, belching out huge plumes of black smoke. She’d taken a break to watch the spectacle. The crowd’s enthusiasm for the steamboat seemed real. The whole set certainly looked real thanks to all the props down by the riverside, the small boats, the large pennants reading KING, and the patriotic bunting draped on storefronts. Buster had been on hand near the cameras helping direct, but hadn’t noticed her in the throngs.

Buster went on. “I’ve got this publicity man who says I can’t have a flood because of the lives that were lost when the Mississippi flooded, so we’re changing everything up for a cyclone.” She marveled a little that he was telling her anything about the production, but tried not to show it. “I wondered what those airplane propellers and big motors Bert had me order were for,” she said. 

“These are good,” said Buster, pulling a third cookie from the bag. “Remind me to get hurt more often.”

“Or rescue foolish girls from themselves more often,” she said. 

“It was nothing,” he said. 

“It was something to me.” 

He considered her as he started on the third cookie. 

“Anyway, I already took lunch. I’ve got to get back to the shop,” she said.

“Okay,” he said. 

She had her hand on the door when he spoke up again. 

“Why that Shrew play, anyway? Why not Juliet?”

She turned back and looked at him, thoroughly confused. She had no idea how he knew about one of her dearest and closest ambitions.

He noticed her puzzlement and clarified. “You said your dream was to star in that Shrew play. Why? Why not Romeo and Juliet?”

“I don’t remember telling you that,” she said, feeling abashed

“Well, don’t get bent out of shape about it, I was just asking,” he said, a little defensively. 

“No, I’m not bent out of shape, I’m surprised,” she said, as she faced him. “I don’t remember saying that. I’m afraid of what else I, uh, might have said that night.” She cringed to think of what else might have come out of her mouth. “I hope I didn’t beg you for a break or anything.”

He regarded her with a calm expression. “You didn’t. I’d still like to know, though.”

“Well, Kate has a mind of her own. She wants to control her own fate. Marriage isn’t for her,” she said, conscious of how clumsy her words were. “She’s fun to play. Romeo and Juliet is a little boring.”

In truth, it was Katherine’s spirit which she loved, the rebellion against her father and Petruchio, and hang the end of the play. In her experience, the audience never remembered the end of the play, only the beginning and middle where Katherine was at her most defiant and fiery. 

Buster nodded, elbow on the table and finger sliding absently under his lip. The silence stretched on for long enough that Nelly said, “Anyway, I’ll see you around.”

“Thanks for the cookies,” Buster said.

Note: It’s easy when writing a fiction about Buster Keaton to cast Natalie Talmadge as a villain. I prefer to listen to Buster’s granddaughter Melissa Talmadge Cox who points out that the divorce is ancient history and that fans should get over it! Even though I’m writing a story that is obviously canon divergent, I always remember that Buster lived happily ever after with Eleanor Norris Keaton and considered himself to have had a lucky life with very few dark spots. Why did Natalie put a end to her sex life with the gorgeous, winsome Buster Keaton? I think the likeliest explanation is that she just wasn’t attracted to him or simply didn’t like sex. I do think Buster really loved her too and wanted things to work out, which is why their marriage lasted as long as it did. I’ve tried to convey that with this story. Also, I’m with Natalie. Trying to travel hours on a train with two young rambunctious boys sounds like a nightmare, even with a governess.  And yes, the Keaton governess was also named Connie, not to be confused with Constance “Connie” Talmadge, who was also frequently called Dutch. Finally, with a lot of digging through newspapers I learned that the date Buster broke his nose was July 30th, 1927! So the first scene takes place on the 31st. The second occurs on Wednesday, August 3rd.

[starrybethany]

Clayton Keller: Part 7

Word count: 2077

Clayton and I spent the night catching up on all of the time we’ve been separated for the past week or so. When I wake up in the morning I’m utterly exhausted and my body is sore as hell yet I feel euphoric of a sort.

The arm wrapped around my waist feels familiar, even welcomed, and I lay with Clayton’s face buried in my neck with contempt. I’m staring up at the bare white ceiling as I feel him shift beside me, his grip tightening. He groans, the hot air touching my skin.

I don’t move my gaze from above me as he pulls back from my neck, his hand using my hip for support as he pushes himself halfway up to be able to look at me. The blanket falls down his chest a little bit, revealing his fit torso.

“Morning,” he greets me, his voice groggy from sleep.

“Good morning.”

He collapses back onto the mattress beside me, moving his head so that his head is touching mine. “What are you looking at?”

“Do you see that spider web in the corner?” I ask, lifting a hand lazily to point at it.

“Yeah.”

“I’m trying to figure out how to get it down. I bet you could get it for me,” I tease.

“So now I’m just here to do your manual labor?” He jokes.

“Come on, Clayton, just do it!” I whine. “You’re 5’10, you can reach.”

“I’m actually 5’11,” he corrects.

“That’s not what Google says.”

I turn my head at the feeling of his movements to find him glaring at me playfully, reaching over to tickle my sides. I giggle at the action, the giggles turning into screeches for him to stop because I can’t breathe.

“That should teach you to mess with me again,” he huffs, puffing out his chest proudly.

I roll my eyes. “Okay. Just as long as you pull that spiderweb down.”

We enjoy each other’s company silently, grateful for the rare morning where we just get to lie in bed beside one another. I can’t help but take this time to think about how my relationship with Clayton has evolved.

I still think that I’m too busy to be in a relationship- a relationship takes time and effort, too much time and effort for me to give right now. But there’s something interesting about Clayton.

Maybe it’s the way he makes me feel. He makes me feel giddy whenever he’s around, like I’m back in high school trying my best to act cool when my crush walks down the hallway I’m in. He makes me feel comfortable, like I can be myself when I’m around him and all he would do is cheer and support me.

Clayton makes me feel like no man has ever made me feel before.

But, at the end of the day that doesn’t matter. At the end of the day he’s the one signing my paycheck and we aren’t a couple, we’re actually in a contractually obligated agreement and life isn’t a Disney fairytale.

“Guess what?” Clayton whispers.

“What?” I whisper back. I don’t know why he or I am whispering. Maybe he’s afraid that if he speaks too loud, it’ll break whatever spell we’re both under.

“You let me stay over last night.”

“So?”

“Guess what else?” He continues.

“What?”

“That’s not allowed, according to our contract,” he points out.

I roll my eyes but my heart beats faster at his remark. I guess neither of us realized that last night after all of the strenuous activity that went down.

“Screw the contract,” I lamely respond, unsure and unconfident in other answers that I could give. I’m afraid of telling him that I liked spending the night with him, even if we’ve done it in his place it feels different doing it in mine.

It makes us feel like more of a couple, which we aren’t.

“Screw the contract?” He repeats, letting out a dramatic gasp. “But Y/N, that’s a legally binding document! I could tell my lawyer about this.”

“And your lawyer would say you’re just as much at fault, if not more,” I point out.

“Whatever,” he turns back to me, burying his face in my neck again. “He doesn’t need to know about this.”

The man begins to place light kisses up and down the column of my neck, slowly replacing them with stronger kisses, then begins to suck a hickey into the sensitive part of my neck.

I moan at the feeling, tilting my head to give him more room. My eyes flutter closed at the sensation. I know this is going to be a pain in the ass to cover up but it feels so good. Spending time with Clayton feels so good.

He moves until he’s gently straddling my body, brushing his hands up and down my sides lightly.

“Do you have anywhere to be today?” He asks quietly once he’s removed his lips from my skin.

“I have to meet my friends later, for lunch,” I breathe out.

“So we have all morning?” He inquires.

“We have all morning,” I confirm.

The grin on his face is one that I’ll never forget.

~

“Look at that smile, someone got laid,” Tyler jokes as I approach the table.

“And that new purse, holy shit,” Betsy adds, eyes widening at the sight of the Louis Vuitton bag on my arm.

“How can you afford that shit, I thought you were broke?” Tyler questions as I pull out the chair beside him, sitting down and resting my bag on the chair beside me. It’s too expensive to sit on the floor.

“You never told him, did you?” Betsy gasps.

“Oh man, I never did,” I groan, knowing that Tyler will dislike that he’s been left out of the loop.

“Never told me what? Y/N, are you withholding tea from me? You know that’s practically a crime, right?” He commands.

I roll my eyes at him. “So, I have a sugar daddy.”

“You what?” He exclaims, causing practically the whole restaurant to turn and stare at us.

“Quiet down,” I smack his arm, “Yeah, it’s been going on for like two months now. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

“You forgot to tell me that you were getting laid and rich?” He raises his eyebrows, unimpressed.

The waitress drops by, an amused expression on our face, clearly overhearing our conversation. She takes our order before heading off to the back, allowing the conversation to resume.

“And look at that top, is it Gucci?” Betsy questions teasingly.

“You would know if it were Gucci, Betsy,” I respond. I’m not sure how to feel about all of the teasing. I like the nice things Clayton’s getting me, from the beautiful jewelry to the fashionable pieces of clothing, and even the money he’s giving me so that I can pay for school and rent.

But another part of me can’t help but worry about what other people are thinking. I wonder if anyone besides my friends have noticed my change from resale shop clothes to designer brands. And how they think that I got this money…

I’m not ashamed of having a sugar daddy. My body is made to make money and I’m doing just that, plus Clayton’s getting something out of this situation too, it’s not just me. But it’s definitely not something that I would tell my mom.

“So what kind of sugar daddy is he?” Tyler inquires.

“What do you mean?”

“Like does he need you to help him with his phone or change his bedpan or-”I scoff as Betsy bursts into laughter.

“He’s twenty two, Tyler.”

“Twenty two?” His eyes practically bulge out of his head. “What twenty two year old can afford to be a sugar daddy?”

“He’s an athlete,” the blonde informs him.

“An athlete? Is it a figure skater? Can you introduce me to Adam Rippon?” An excited smile shoots across his face.

“No, it’s not a figure skater, plus Adam Rippon has a boyfriend. He plays hockey for the Arizona Coyotes,” I explain.

“Arizona has a hockey team?” He sounds genuinely shocked.

“Why does everyone always ask me that?” I sigh.

“Well, that’s fun.” He gives me a supportive shove and I practically fall off of the chair. Sometimes he doesn't know his own strength.

The food arrives shortly after and we catch up with each other as we eat our meals. I find out that Betsy has a date in a couple of nights and we tease her about settling down and abandoning her wild years that she’s supposed to spend with us.

She gives us a “we’ll see how it goes” so we settle down.

“I’d love to meet your hot sugar daddy, if you’re up for showing him off,” Tyler tells me as we pay our bills and rise to leave the restaurant.

“We’ll see,” I respond vaguely. I’m not sure how I feel about Clayton meeting my friends. I’ve already met his friends and a couple of their partners, but that’s kind of bound to happen seeing as how he works with his friends.

And I go to a lot of his work events- the games- so I was going to meet his friends eventually. But to meet my friends, I’d have to plan a day where me, Clayton, and my friends will be at the same place for an extended period of time to get to know each other and chat.

He’s technically my employer, so that seems kind of inappropriate.

~

“I brought cookies, Christian.” I set the bag down on the counter, pulling out the package to proudly display the package of cookies I stopped by the store to buy.

“My trainer doesn’t allow me to eat cookies,” he states, staring longingly at the package in my hands.

“And do you listen to everything your trainer says?” I raise my eyebrows at him.

He hesitates but nods, causing Clayton to laugh. The brunette grabs my hand, tugging me towards his room. As we pass his roommate I lean closer to him and whisper, “Teacher’s pet.”

“Hey!” He shouts after me. I don’t have the chance to respond before Clayton closes his door, throwing himself onto his bed. I climb up beside him, curling up at the headboard.

“How was your day today?” He asks, voice muffled by the sheets he’s buried his head in.

“Good. How was your day?” I stare out his window at the beautiful desert sunset. Arizona really is a wonderful state.

“What did you do?”

“Um, I studied this morning after I left, then I went to lunch with Tyler and Betsy, then I studied some more and grocery shopping this afternoon,” I answer.

“You went to lunch with Tyler and Betsy?” He repeats, leaning up on his elbows.

“Yeah,” I begin to laugh, “I actually found out today that I never told Tyler about you.”

He gives me a toothy grin. “Really?”

“I guess I just never got the chance to tell him,” I confess.

“So you told him today?”

“Yep.” He moves up the bed until his head is in my lap. I absentmindedly twirl his chestnut strands through my fingers, watching as a car passes by.

“What are your friends like?” Clayton asks me.

“Didn’t you meet them at the bar the night we met?” I pause my movements, waiting for an answer.

“Maybe faintly? I barely remember that night,” he admits.

“Me neither,” I laugh. “But they’re basically just like me, except Tyler is gay and Betsy is prettier.”

“Not possible,” he mumbles.

I don’t respond, unsure of what would be an appropriate response.

“If you want to meet them, I’m having a party this weekend at my apartment. It’s a surprise birthday party for Tyler so everyone’s pretty much going to be wasted the whole night,” I say it before I realize that I’m inviting him.

It’s not that I’m worried that he won’t fit in, I know he will. He’s an attractive male in his twenties who has been to plenty of parties in his day. But I don’t know if he knows how truly wild my friends can get…

Plus, we would be crossing that boundary between sugar-daddy-and-sugar-baby and into, I don’t know, something more.

“I’d love to go to the party,” he accepts my invitation before I can overthink anything much longer.

We’ll just have to see how this goes.

[kriscme]

One Life To Live

Hi Readers, sorry for the longer interval that usual.  It took me awhile to work out where to go from here.  The hazard of not working to a plan.  Thanks as always to Ronja for allowing me to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn’t Take.”  You can read it on AO3 and Fanfiction.  Chapter 28 The following morning, I set out for work as usual.  All is quiet in the Village.  Peeta would still be sleeping off the effects of sleep syrup but there’s no sign of Johanna or Haymitch.  I modify my usual route to the school and walk down the main street, curious to see if Lace is working today.  She doesn’t open this early, but she can usually be seen behind her shop window bustling about, either sewing or sorting through fabrics.  Today there’s no sign of her.  Even more oddly, the tailor’s shop is closed.  Arthur starts early and finishes late, eager for as much business as possible to fund that factory he intends to own one day.   The bakery is open though.  Cass and Saffy are serving behind the counter.  Saffy replaced Sateen after she quit her job to marry Roy.  Her full name is Sapphire and she’s aptly named with dark blue eyes and pale blond hair.  She’s someone I might have been jealous of if Peeta hadn’t already been with Lace.   Very pretty, she flirts with everyone, male and female alike.  Peeta told me she had been training as a career before the war put an end to the Games.  Her favored weapon was the bow although she admits that she was only middling good at best. But if Glimmer – also from 1 – had made it through on good looks and charm, then why not her?  It’s the early morning rush and there’s quite a few people ahead of me.  While I wait, I take the opportunity to examine the contents of the display counters.  Bee stings must still be popular as they take up an entire shelf.  Below them are apple pastries and jelly slices.  Chocolate eclairs and fruit tarts, cupcakes and . . . yes, iced cookies, each decorated with a floral motif.  It’s clearly Peeta’s work.  In one corner of the bakery is a large glass case displaying a dazzling array of celebration cakes. “Amazing, aren’t they?”  says Cass behind me.  I look around and see that the other customers have left and there’s only me, Cass and Saffy, who is occupied packing loaves of bread onto shelves.   “We’re really lucky to have found him.  He could get work anywhere, if he wanted.”  He points to the central cake, a large multi-tiered wedding cake decorated with an intricate vine design in gold.  The pattern and the shape of the leaves stirs a memory, and I wonder if it had for Peeta too.  “We even got an order for one just like it to be shipped to the Capitol.” “The Capitol? Wow! That’s a long way to come for a wedding cake.   How did they know to look here?” Cass chuckles.   “She actually came in for the beestings.  She recognized us from our bakery in the Capitol.  But when she saw that cake, she just had to have it. It was the strangest thing.  The tattoo on her head was an exact match with the vine decoration on the cake.” “Oh, that is strange.   Did she say why she was in 12?  We don’t usually get tourists here.” “She didn’t say.  But the beestings was a treat for her crew, I know that much. Construction, maybe?  There’s a lot of that going on.” “Yeah, probably.” Despite my efforts to keep my voice even, I can’t help a sense of urgency creeping in.    “Did she ask to speak to Peeta?  You know, to talk about the cake?” “No.  She didn’t ask who iced it.”  Cass’s brow pinches in worry.  “Is there something wrong?” “Of course not,” I quickly assure him.  “Just curious, that’s all.  I thought she might have wondered how the cake and her tattoo happen to match.  But it’s probably a standard design.  Peeta likely saw it somewhere from his days in the Capitol.” His face relaxes into a smile.  “Well, there was plenty to choose from, fashions changed so fast.  None as popular as your Mockingjay symbol though.” “Yeah, it did seem to be everywhere.  Although I bet there’s a lot of people who regret they got a tattoo of it,” I say with a laugh.  I search for a change of subject. I really don’t want to revisit those days.  “Do you have any cheese buns ready?”   “A batch is due out of the oven now.   Just wait a minute and I’ll get them,” he says, and disappears into the rear of the bakery. The aroma of freshly baked cheese buns would normally have me salivating, but all I can think of is the woman who ordered that cake.  Cressida! What’s she doing in 12?  The last I heard, she and Pollux had been sent to the Districts to cover the wreckage of the war.  This was not long after the Capitol had fallen, Coin was in charge, Snow awaiting trial, and I was in hospital being treated for burns.  Maybe she’s here to do a story on District 12’s recovery. That would make sense.  I just hope Peeta and I aren’t the subject.   Paylor would certainly put a stop to it if we were, wouldn’t she?  She didn’t want me attracting any attention when I was in 8, after all.   I think as far as the government is concerned; we outlived our usefulness long ago.  Nowadays we’re more of an embarrassment. The lunatic who went berserk and kicked a fellow combatant into a pod to his death, and the lunatic who executed the wrong president.   I think, if the government have its way, we’ll never be heard of again.  No ill will, just please quietly fade into the sunset. Max sheds no further light on the Cressida mystery.  When asked if I’d missed anything while I was away, he only commented on Arthur’s uncharacteristic behavior at the pub on the Saturday night.  Max describes him as an odd mixture of concern and excitement. “Like he was happy about something, but felt bad that he was happy about it.   He didn’t stick around for long.  Said he had personal issues to attend to.”   Lace, probably.   That could explain why his shop wasn’t open as usual.  Arthur wouldn’t, would he?  Spend the night with her?  To give comfort, or maybe something more? Maybe he’s heeding his own advice: be adaptable, be open to possibilities.   “Lace and Peeta broke up,” I say, and wait for Max’s stunned reaction.  To my surprise I don’t get one.  Not beyond a raise of eyebrows and a sardonic laugh, that is.   “Did they now?  Well, you could see that coming.” “How?” I ask, disbelieving.   It’s so typical of Max to claim credit for knowing something after the fact.   Peeta and Lace were never anything less than a devoted couple.  No one could have seen it coming. I get a disbelieving look in return.  “You must have been too preoccupied with making plans for your weekend in the woods with Nature Man.   Because while their hands might have been all over each other their eyes weren’t.  His were on you and hers were on Arthur.  I was surprised Lace held out for as long as she did.  If looks could kill, Johanna would have been dead a dozen times over.” Max finishes collating the work sheets on the table and sets to work stapling them together.  “So, what’s between them? Obviously, they’re more than just acquaintances if he knew her secret before Psycho Boy did.” “They knew each other in 8.  They’re related through marriage,” is all I say. I doubt if Arthur would appreciate me giving away more than that.  Certainly not that he’s had a crush on Lace since childhood. “And stop calling people names.  It’s immature.  And unnecessary.” “But I like calling people names.  It’s fun.  You’re just jealous I haven’t one for you yet.  How about The Scowler? Yes, that fits,” he says, grinning at me. I try to wipe the scowl off my face but give up.  Max gives me so much to scowl at. “And now the big question is, who will she choose?  Nature Man or Psycho Boy?  It should be no contest but there’s no accounting for some women’s tastes.” “There is no choice,” I snap.  “And mind your own business.”  I plonk my still half-full cup of tea in the sink and stomp out of the staff room before remembering that I’ve just committed the grave offense of not washing my cup and placing it back on the self.  Maybe I can get back in time later to do it before Mrs. Matson sees it.  But I’m not going back in there right now.  Not while he’s in there, no matter the consequences.  That man annoys me so much.   And the most annoying thing about him is that he can see right through me. Because if I’m honest with myself, the thought had occurred to me too. Which is really, really dumb.  The situation bears no relationship whatsoever to the choice I had between Gale and Peeta.  Because then there really was a choice.  Two boys who were in love with me compared to one man who isn’t, and another I can’t say.   But somehow, I sense that there’s still a choice to be made.  I don’t know how, or why.  Just that at one point, I’ll have to make one.   If Max can be trusted with anything, it’s to spread information in the fastest time possible.  By lunchtime everyone knows.  I get a few looks, especially from the newest members of staff.  I suppose I’d better get used to it.  People will speculate and assume the way is clear now for Peeta and me.  In their minds, anything other than a star-crossed lovers union is unthinkable, an aberration that shouldn’t be tolerated.   It’s unfortunate for them that they’re going to be disappointed a second time. I walk home the way I came, down the main street.   Lace’s shop is still closed, but Arthur is open for business.  I watch him through the window as I walk past.  Arthur has really only one expression, but it manifests in varying degrees according to his mood and the situation.  Today it’s serious light, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s the barest hint of a smile at the corners of his lips.  It’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him.   Johanna calls by soon after I arrive home. Marcus isn’t here so I lead her into the sitting room where we can talk openly in comfort. “How is he?” I ask as soon as we’re seated. “Better.  There haven’t been any more flashbacks, at least.  I think the long sleep broke the cycle.  Not that I’ve seen much of him.  He kept to his room most of the day, except when he came down to talk to Aurelius on the phone.” “And?”  Neither of us pretend that Johanna hadn’t listened in.  We’re both shameless.  Johanna for eavesdropping and me for asking her to repeat it.  But justified, we tell ourselves, because we care about his welfare. Johanna’s forehead crinkles in concentration. “Well, I only heard Peeta’s side of it, of course.  And it was muffled at times.    But he talked about the flashbacks.  That’s how I know they’ve stopped.  And then about the break-up.  I got the impression he must have already talked to Aurelius about the possibility, because he didn’t explain why they broke up, just that they had, and he felt badly about it.  And then, all of a sudden, he started to cry.  He kept saying over and over that his life was ruined and he’ll never find a love like that again and that it was his own fault.” It’s a knife to the heart.  I know Peeta doesn’t love me anymore but he has some awareness that he once did, and that it was, by his own account, overwhelming in its intensity.  But Lace has supplanted me in that too.  She’s the love that can never be surpassed.   But something doesn’t quite make sense. Why break-up with her if he feels that way? She was the one who had to be forgiven.  Peeta did nothing wrong.  But then I remember what Peeta told Johanna when she asked him why they had broken-up.  He said they’d both lied.  Could Lace have initiated the break-up?  That whatever Peeta had lied about was a deal breaker for her?  And then I think about Arthur and his closed shop this morning and the little smile on his face when I saw him later in the day.  That’s more than relief for a disaster averted.  He’s had encouragement.  From Lace.   Poor Peeta.  Poor, poor Peeta.  Everything about her he adored – her laughter, her bright personality, her ambition.  He even liked that slobbering dog of hers.  And after everything he’s suffered. The Games, losing his leg, his torture at Snow’s hands.  And the loss of his entire family in the bombing too.  He had no one except Haymitch and me – a drunk and a depressed recluse, as battle scarred and broken as he.  And then he meets Lace.   The ray of light in the darkness.   And the amount of money he spent on that wedding!  To please her, to show her and the world how much he loves her.  And now, oh, how could she? “It was heartbreaking.  I just wanted to leap out and tell him that little bitch isn’t worth it.  But I couldn’t, you know.”  No, not without revealing yourself.  “But he calmed down eventually.  He talked about going the Capitol for treatment but I think Aurelius persuaded him to stay here.  And that’s about it.  Except to talk again tomorrow.   Oh, and Peeta promised to think about returning to work as soon as possible and to get out and see people.  And to continue to work on his memories.” That’s similar to the advice Dr Aurelius gave me when I told I was in love with Peeta.  To work on myself, to find my direction. “No, that’s not quite right,” Johanna adds.  “I left out an important detail.  He promised to work on his memories with her.  I guess Aurelius appreciated my input.  And he did make a lot more progress once I took over.  Sorry, Katniss, but he did.” I nod wearily.  It hurts, but it’s true.  All I managed to do was confirm what he had already convinced himself of. A disaster from start to finish.   “Are you going to see him?” asks Johanna. “I think it will help him to know that he still has friends.” I want to say no.  But I know that if the positions were reversed Peeta would put aside his own hurt feelings and support me any way he can.   “Yes, in a day or two maybe. I want to give him time to adjust first.”   It’s a lame response but Johanna seems to accept it.  If I were Peeta I could leave a bag of cookies or cheese buns at his front door as a convenient way of conveying support without having to actually engage. But I can’t think of anything I can give him that he’d want so I’ll have to face him.  I can’t delay it forever. I tell Johanna about the cake with the vine design and the woman who ordered one just like it.   And of my suspicions of who this woman might be. “Yeah, that’d be Cressida.  She’s been covering an ongoing story about Marcus and the national parks.  She comes around this time, just as Marcus is almost finished wrapping things up. Although, in 7, she was almost there from the start.  You know, because of all the trouble we had with the logging companies.  I don’t know if you saw it, but she did a special feature on me.  It was called “Johanna Mason – Environmental Activist.  Her Life After the Games.”  It was sensationalist rubbish really.  They kept on showing footage of me chained naked to a tree.  Even asked if I’d do the interview like that.   I did, but I want to be clear, it was their idea, not mine. And they tried to fabricate a love affair between me and Marcus too.  Marcus hated it.  Especially when memes appeared on social media transposing me naked against the tree with him next to me with his hands in various places.” “But why?” I’m aghast.  This is dreadful news.  If they did that to Johanna, what would they do to Marcus and me?  Or to Peeta and Lace?  Or to Peeta and me?  This is juicy fodder for the tabloid media.  “I thought they wanted us to lay low.  To just blend in and be ordinary people again.” Johanna looks at me askance.  “Well, maybe you and Peeta.  But not for the rest of us.  Beetee writes for a science magazine and does frequent guest appearances on “Cool Science” and Enobaria has her own reality show.  “Keeping Up with the Barbarian,” or something like that.   Annie likes to keep a low profile though.”   “Does Marcus know she’s here?” I barely whisper the words. Johanna shrugs.  “I don’t know.  Maybe not if she’s just arrived.  But he would have known she’d be here eventually.  Marcus doesn’t like it, but he relies on the publicity.   And when he goes to 13 next – “ “13?” “Well, yes.  He’s doing all the Districts.  You know that.  And 13’s practically virgin territory.  That’s one advantage in living underground I suppose, nothing on top gets damaged. He’ll want to move quickly to preserve the area most in need of conservation before developers make any more inroads.  I don’t envy him though.  That’s one place I never want to see again.”   Me neither.  There’re no good memories for me in 13.  And they hate me there. I killed their president. Johanna leaves shortly after, but not before extracting from me an assurance that I’ll visit Peeta soon.   I have about an hour before Marcus arrives home.  Enough time to use his computer to do some research.   I find the memes Johanna talked about.  One has Marcus with one hand at Johanna’s crotch and the other inside his trousers, pumping away.  I search Beetee’s name and find links to articles he’s written and his TV appearances.  There’s very little about his personal life other than he still lives in his home district of 3 and has investments in an electrical company.   Enobaria attracts the most publicity.  As well as her reality show, she’s a regular on the celebrity circuit, her trademark pointed teeth bared for maximum effect.   On Annie, there’s been no media reports since the War ended.  And there’s none for Haymitch, Peeta and me either.   I can understand why Peeta and I have been left alone.  At least, I thought I did. Haymitch and Annie would be fair game though.  Annie, slightly mad Annie, Victor and the widow of the handsome and seductive Finnick Odair, himself a Victor, the most notorious womaniser in Panem turned war hero.  Surely the birth of their son would have garnered some attention.  And Haymitch is a news story too.  A popular Victor and a prominent player in the Rebellion, you’d think they’d be some public curiosity about where he ended up.   But nothing.  Either there’s been no interest or it’s being squelched.  It dawns on me that maybe the lack of media attention isn’t just because we’re a national embarrassment.  It’s because we’re being protected.  Enobaria, Beetee and Johanna have chosen to be in the public eye, and they must take the bad with the good.  But not Annie, Haymitch, Peeta and I.   We’ve lived quiet lives, eschewing the lime-light.  I let out a long breath, not realizing that I’ve been holding it.  We’re safe then. Cressida will do her news story about Marcus and the new national park and then leave. Peeta and I have nothing to worry about.   A door opens and shuts and there’s footsteps in the hall.   I close the computer and replace everything as it was.   Marcus is home.

[stars-and-rose]

marching/concert band! au: boys with crushes

basically,, I just went through band camp and gained inspiration for this au! also i just love it. so i wrote some cute little shippy scenes,, but it’s basically admitting they have crushs,, not a confession scene. yet. so have some band au! prinxiety and logicality minifics!! note, these take place in their junior year, so patton isn’t drum major yet- he’s drum captain,, and roman and logan aren’t heads yet!

----

Virgil adjusted the pin on his strap, glaring up at the sun as if he could prevent it from admitting heat. As much as he loved band, marching the same sets over and over in the burning sun wasn't his favorite pastime. He could practically feel his eyeshadow melting off, and his arms felt gross from the sunscreen he'd piled on. His water bottle was thankfully cool. It wasn't as cold as he would have liked, but it would do. Virgil took off the cap and chugged the water. Around him, the rest of tenors sat in the grass, enjoying the short water break before Thomas would order them all back into set zero. The band was getting the show down quicky. Sound-wise, there were some issues, but the marching was going nicely. Maybe that was because the tenor section had only gained two freshmen. Patton and Roman had complained at lunch about the ridiculous amounts of percussionists and flutists that had joined this year, but Virgil's section had gotten lucky. Speaking of the two freshmen, they were sitting next to him, talking loudly about cute guys. Virgil listened idly, deciding the girls had a decent taste in boys. Then, he heard, "You know the flute's assistant section leader? "Oh man, he's hot." "I know right? He's got really pretty eyes. I heard he plays lacrosse and is in choir too!" Alright, the girls had great taste, but that wasn't going to work. "Back off." Both girls whipped their heads around to look at him, confusion glowing in their eyes. "Huh?" "He doesn't know it yet, but Roman? He's mine." Virgil allowed himself to feel smug for a few seconds before he heard a familiar voice yell. "Yes! Virgil Tempest you amazing boy you just earned me twenty bucks!" It was Virgil's time to whip his head around. The head section leader of the tenor's, a boy named Joey, was grinning like a manic. "Cathy is going to lose her mind knowing you admitted it first!" "What? What are you talking about- did you make a bet on me? About what?" Virgil demanded. Ignoring the raging equipment manager, Joey yelled across the field, "Cat, I want my twenty!" There was silence for a few seconds before the flute's head section leader let out a groan. "Damn it Roman I had my faith in you, you shit!" ------- Logan slammed down the top of the printer, clicking the go button as he spun around. The other librarians were running around the library. It was the last game of the year- yet it seemed half of the band managed to lose their music. They had to leave for a neighboring high school in less than an hour, and Logan had arrived early to start the copying process. Even with the early start, they had only begun to make a dent. This year's head librarian, a girl named Leah, groaned from her spot at the paper cutter. "I've got an idea. We kill the entire band." The other assistant, a clarinetist named Theo, nodded their head from their position on the floor. "Perfect. You get brass, I'll get woodwinds, we'll team up to get percussion, and Logan will keep us out of jail." "Of course you make me the brains of your half-hazard homicide plots. Besides, you are afraid of blood Leah." She rolled her eyes, turning away from the paper cutter and almost knocking over the plant sitting on the edge of the table. Theo gasped. "You almost killed Roger! You'd break Patton's heart!" Speak of the devil. The drum captain entered the library, holding a bag from Lottie's. "Why are we breaking my heart?" "Leah almost knocked over the plant you bought," Logan explained with a small smile. Patton gasped. "I trusted you with Roger. Don't make me take him off you!" Theo snorted. "Is there a reason you're here, Pat? Love you, but hell is breaking loose in here." "Oh! Now I feel bad. I brought Logan some Crofter's cookies from Lottie's and some made him some coffee." As he spoke, Patton handed Logan the bag he was holding. Logan opened it, revealing wrapped jam cookies and his favorite galaxy coffee mug, warm to the touch. Leah and Theo shared a look. "Oh, it's okay, Pat." "We promise we're fine." "Oh, okay! If you say so. I gotta round up drumline." As soon as Patton was out of sight, Logan pulled a flashcard out of his pocket, cheeks burning. "I guess you would say I have a 'crush'." --------- "Oh man, I can't believe that was real." Patton smiled at the sophomore next to him. Michael still had a dreamlike look on his face, even though they had left All-State Orchestra four hours ago. In the front seat, Thomas chuckled. "You both did incredibly. I can't believe I got to take two kids to All States. Then, I get to take three to All-State Jazz, and Millie has two she's taking to All-State Choir." Patton nodded. "Virgil and Roman have been talking about it. I don't think I've seen Virgil without him humming his audition piece, and Roman's drunk before green tea in the past week than he has his entire life." Michael nodded. "I bet. How you'd like All States?" "Oh, it was so much fun! Though, my arm hurts." Thomas snorted. "That's to be expected. Your solo sounded amazing, Pat." Patton winced. "I almost missed the Director cueing me in." "It happens." Thomas turned the car onto a familiar street. "We're almost at the school. I love you guys but please make sure you have rides ready, and get your bags. We've got school tomorrow and we all need to be well-rested. "My dad told me he's already at the school," Michael replied. "What about you, Pat?" "My older sister told me I'd have a ride waiting for me." "Which Lark child will I be seeing tonight?" Thomas asked. "No idea!" After Thomas pulled into the school, Micheal giggled. "None. Look, Patton." Patton glanced out the window, and a grin formed on his face. Logan, wrapped in a blue overcoat held a sign reading, "Congratulation, Patton, ' in his beautiful cursive. His cheeks were flushed from the night, and when he met Patton's gaze, he offered a soft smile. "Boys." Patton breathed. "I think I'm in love." ------- "Huh. All of your notes are right." Evelyn practically chucked her flute into her lap. "This is hopeless! It's the end of me. I'm buying a plane ticket and flying to Idaho and becoming a potato farmer." Roman rolled his eyes. "Hey, I'm the drama queen of this section. You'll get it, Eve. Thomas wouldn't have given you the solo if he didn't think you could." "Can you play it again?" She asked, glaring at the sheet music. Roman raised his flute to his lips, closing his eyes. He'd played these measures multiple times with Evelyn, and playing was easier if he wasn't staring at his music. The soft melody filled the air. Then, Evelyn groaned. "You play it much better." Roman lower his instrument. "Maybe you're not putting enough feeling into it?" "What?" "Well, it's a ballad. A love story. A song about lovers who have finally reunited after a long war and are falling into each other's arms." "Yeah, Mr. Sanders told us that when he passed out the piece." "Pretend you're playing it for your girlfriend," Roman suggested. "Put all the passion into the piece, as if you were the soldier returning to their love." "Huh." Evelyn nodded. "Is that what you do?" "Yeah." "You're single though, right? Then who are you playing it for?" "Mmm. I imagine I'm seeing Virgil after he's been gone for years. I play it for him." "So, you finally admit you have the hots for Virgil? Took you long enough! Cathy is going to rage that she wasn't around to hear it." "Wait, huh? Eve you bitch! Get back here!"

[lalainajanes]

kc + we promised to stay friends but we’re doing the same stuff we did when we were a couple and i don’t wanna point it out because i don’t want it to stop

Five seconds after walking into the courtyard, Carolinerealizes she’s miscalculated.

Super annoying because planning on being nearly late hasbeen making her anxious all freaking day.

It looks like her neighbors are all present and accountedfor, which she should haveanticipated. Last quarter’s tenants meeting had resulted in a screaming matchand Mrs. Bolton’s carefully frosted cupcakes being used as projectiles – such awaste of the fluffiest buttercream Caroline’s ever had the pleasure of tasting.Obviously, no one wants to miss this little shindig and the possibility of highdrama.

The folding chairs are all filled. Except one.

The one next to Klaus.

Damn it.

They’d shared the usual meaningless break up platitudes. Theones about how they really liked each other as people and should still stayfriends and blah blah blah. Caroline’s never been in quite this situation, atleast as an adult. She’d known falling for a neighbor was a gamble but Klaushad seemed like a risk she needed to take. Since they’d fizzled she’s beencarefully avoiding him.

If only Klaus would have the courtesy to follow her lead.

She’s held her breath and checked the peephole every timeshe’s left her apartment. A Klaus-free hallway means she can bolt for thestaircase. She’s gotten some odd looks from her neighbors on the instances heroutfits had required heels. She’s ignored them, slipped the shoes on in thelobby, because the last thing she needs is a broken ankle.

Knowing Klaus he’d take such an opportunity and run with it.She’d need help if she were injured, with groceries and laundry and gettingmeals together. He’d be charming and helpful, all in the name of beingneighborly. He’d make her laugh and she’d see him in her apartment again, lounging on her couch and messing with her knick knacks, and Caroline can’tallow that. Not until she’sover him.

Any day now.

Their friend groups are pretty solidly intertwined and sheknows he’s been asking about her. Caroline’s not entirely sure why, since he’d been the one to backoff.

She’d been super pissed two months ago. Now she’s justconfused. She doesn’t trust the Klaus-shields she’s got in place just yet,can’t risk him slithering passed.

Klaus smiles at her, lifts his hand in a cheery little wave.Tips his head in the direction of the single empty seat tucked cozily betweenhim and the wall.

He’s probably done the intimidating murder eyes thing he’s sogood at to save it.

Caroline pastes on a bright smile – because she’s so notwilling to let him win the breakup –and makes her way over to him. He stands to let her pass. “Hey, Klaus,” shegreets. She keeps it warm, casual. Hopes it sounds natural. She scans the roomto avoid looking at him, holds her breath. Meeting his eyes with his body soclose, smelling the cologne that used to linger on her sheets, is dangerous.

“Caroline,” hemurmurs. When he sits his thigh presses to hers and she hurriedly crosses herlegs to cut odd the contact. “It seems you’ve been busy lately. I haven’t seenyou in what, two weeks?”

Clearly, Klaus had missed the post-breakup etiquette day atadulting school. He’s not supposed to call her out like that.

Caroline manages to laugh, “Has it been that long? One of mycoworkers broke her leg so I’ve been covering for her.”

That’s a big fat lie and she crosses her fingers Klaus won’task a follow up question. Luckily, Alaric Saltzman stands calls the meeting toorder. He starts talking about the meeting’s agenda. Caroline holds in a huffof annoyance. He’s talking slowly, probably already a few drinks in, and that’sonly going to prolong her torment. She’dread the materials that had been circulated already but, having lived in this buildingfor three years now, she knows that few other people would have bothered toprepare.

She stiffens when she feels Klaus lean in, his breathruffling the curls that have come loose from her top knot. “Care to liven thismeeting up with a wager, love?”

Her eyes widen and she almost chokes. A few people glanceover and Caroline hopes she hasn’t turned visibly red. “That would be highlyinappropriate,” she hisses and oh god she sounds like one of the Mystic Fallschurch busybodies who’d sniffed about the unladylike length of Caroline’sskirts in high school.

A sound of amusement comes from Klaus and she resists theurge to dig a sharp elbow into his ribcage. Mostly because touching him is a terrible idea. “My, someone’s thinkingimpure thoughts.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” she mutters. They’d bet sexual favorslast time (and Caroline has very fondmemories or collecting her winnings).

“As delightful as such bets would be,” Klaus says, soundinglike he in no way objects to the concept, “I was thinking cash. Five dollarssays Damon Salvatore’s once again behind on his recycling dues.”

Does he think she’s an amateur? She’s lived here longer thanhe has. “Please. That’s a sucker’s bet. You’re going to have to do better.”

She catches a hint of a smile, distinctly triumphant, beforeKlaus sobers, his head tipping back like he’s thinking deeply.

His next proposal is far more reasonable. She counters withanother. She finds herself relaxing, biting her lip to keep from giggling atKlaus’ more pointed observations about their neighbors.

She walks out of the meeting with an extra seven dollars inher pocket wondering if maybe, just maybe, she can stop with the ninjaavoidance moves.

A few days later, Caroline’s staring blankly at the fourtrays of cookies cooling on her kitchen island. She’d had a moderately crappyday at work and when she’d stopped at the grocery store on the way home anendcap of chocolate chips had caught her eye.

Hence the stress baking. She’s done it on autopilot,doubling the recipe, and now she’s got 64 cookies to deal with.

She’ll take some to work but her office is small and two ofher coworkers have been on health kicks. She’ll get serious evil eyes if shebrings in more than a dozen. She’s gotten used to Klaus taking baked goods offher hands. The man has an impressive sweet tooth but doesn’t even own a cookiesheet and he’s never had any qualms with storing the leftovers in his freezerand whipping them out whenever his agent calls him in for a meeting.

Apparently, he’s significantly better liked by the variouseditors and admins at his publishing company now.

Maybe she could just pop over and see if he still wantsthem. Just because he’s not her boyfriend anymore doesn’t mean Caroline doesn’twish him success.

Mentally patting herself on the back for her emotionalmaturity, Caroline grabs a Tupperware container and loads it up.

And then she runs to her room to put on something cuter thanan old Whitmore hoodie and flour dusted leggings. She switches out her sportsbra for something with more lift but draws the line at makeup. She isn’t tryingto impress Klaus, or anything. She’sjust making herself presentable.

She grabs her keys and exits her apartment. She takes thefew steps to Klaus’ door at an abnormally fast pace, raps sharply before shecan chicken out.

She can hear him on the other side, knows he must bechecking the peephole and it’s a struggle not to fidget or let her face dosomething weird. The locks scrape and Klaus looks pleased when he appears. Abit shocked too, but Caroline can’t blame him considering the lengths she’sgone to lately to avoid seeing his face.

“Caroline,” he says slowly, glancing down the hall like heexpects hidden cameras. “To what do I…”

He’s being stiff, a little formal, a tell that he’s notentirely confident. It makes Caroline feel a little better about her ownnerves. She jiggles the container a bit. “I baked. Kind of excessively.”

“Bad day?” he asks knowingly.

It’s tempting to say yes. To sigh and let her rigid postureloosen and unload like she used to. Klaus had never minded listening to her,not even when she got off track and rambled about issues that were onlytangentially related. He used to sit at her kitchen island and listen to hervent, calmly making his way through a stack of cookies while she’d eliminatedall traces of flour from her countertops and scrubbed down her mixer.

He’d ask questions and scoff at stupid things her clientshad done. The few times he’d stopped by her office he’d been cool anddismissive of the coworkers she didn’t like and Caroline had kind of enjoyedit. Petty? Yes. But she liked the proof that he’d paid attention.

She wonders if it would be so bad to be honest. To try totalk to him.

He’s watching her, waiting patiently for an answer andCaroline notes a smudge of ink on his neck. That his hair’s mussed and he’swearing worn jeans and a t-shirt that’s grey now but was probably blue of blackonce upon a time.

She knows that shirt, remembers how soft it was against hercheek as she’d laid draped over Klaus on his couch. It’s got a hole on the leftside, directly over a spot that Klaus lies and claims isn’t ticklish. Herfinger had always found it, wormed inside to stroke his skin, and whatever TVshow they’d been watching would quickly be forgotten.

The memories are too vivid. The times she’d managed to pinhim and dig her fingers into his skin, until he’d shaken with silent laughter,his eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched to keep the sounds in. Sometimes he’dbeen faster, had flipped her over and gotten revenge, until she’d been gaspingfor breath and pleading for mercy, sides aching but so freaking happy.

They can’t be friends, not when she can’t forget what it waslike to be more.

“Kind of,” Caroline snaps, angrier than she’d meant to be.She shoves the cookies in his direction and Klaus barely has a hold on thembefore she’s backing away. The container wobbles and he steps forward, pullingit closer. “I just didn’t want them to go to waste. I’ve got dinner on thestove, so…”

Another lie. She was going to order a pizza but she’s goingto have to scrounge something edible from her cupboards now.

“Wait,” he calls, “Caroline…”

She ignores him, turning, yanking her keys out of herpocket. She’s laser focused, jams the key into the lock.

“Caroline, can’t we just…”

He’s closer and she shakes her head, getting the door openand stepping in, “Maybe another time. Have a good night!”

She’s got the door closed before she’s finished speaking.Caroline presses back against it, sorely tempted to give her head a coupleknocks against it.

What had she been thinking?

She can hear Klaus, faintly, in the hallway. Can’t quitemake out what he says.

It’s at least two minutes before she hears his door shut.

“Caroline, darling, is that a new dress? You look positivelyedible.”

Huh. That’s suspicious.

Caroline’s used to Kol’s lavish compliments, knows to be onguard when he whips them out because it usually means he’s done something she’sgoing to hate. Or needs a favor. She drops her purse on the table by his door,takes the very large glass of red wine he hands her. Takes a healthy sipbecause she might need it. “What do you want, Kol?”

Kol’s got his most contrite expression on though Carolinesees a tiny bit of something else in his eyes. Glee, maybe. Anticipation,definitely. “There’s been a bit of a mix up,” he explains.

Well, that’s barely helpful.

“And…” she prompts.

He sighs, drapes his arm over her shoulder. “Bekah didn’tknow that you had custody of the group tonight. Nik stopped by her place todrop off something he’d borrowed and she dragged him along to dinner.”

“So Klaus is…” Kol’s steered her to face the kitchen andthere’s the answer to her question. Klaus is in the living room, talking toMarcel, his back to her. “Here,” Caroline finishes. “Does he know…?”

“That you’re here? We told him you’d be along shortly. Hesaid he didn’t mind though he’d leave if you did. I assured him that I thought we could all be adults.” Helooks at her, disapproving, and Caroline cannot believe that she is being judged by Kol Mikaelson ofall people.

“Are you seriously attempting to use reverse psychology onme right now?”

Kol grins, “Depends. Is it working?”

She takes another sip of wine that might technically be moreof a gulp. Kol’s brows rise but he’s smart enough not to comment. “I don’t seewhy I have to be the bigger person,”Caroline complains. “He got weird. And he broke up with me.”

Kol’s kind enough not to comment on her sulkiness, draws hertighter to his side. It’s almost a hug, something she’d sure he’d deny. “Mybrother can be massively thick headed.”

Ugh, how is it that there’s still a tiny part of her brainthat’s offended at the insult?

“That’s one way of putting it,” Caroline mutters.

“I’m sure you’ll be ever so creative and verbose once we getmore liquor into you. Assuming you’re staying?” Caroline nods, drains her wine.She hands Kol the glass. “And Niklaus?” he asks.

Caroline takes a deep breath, her hands coming up to smoothdown her dress. Part of her wants to leave but that would be cowardly. Asmaller, more childish, part of her wants Klaus to leave. He’d do it, Kol hadsaid, probably with a minimum of fuss. There’d be no hiding the reason,however, and she’d hate for Enzo and Kol’s gathering to get awkward.

An evening like this had been inevitable. Two of her veryfavorite people are in love with Mikaelsons (though Katherine’s still super indenial) and it’s kind of a miracle Caroline’s managed to avoid Klaus sociallyfor this long.

She can do this. Hopefully.

She surveys the room. Only a few people have noted herarrival. Kat’s perched on the arm of a chair, and she raises a questioning browwhen Caroline meets her eyes. Klaus is watching her too but he’s wary. Shemanages a smile in his direction, faint and only passingly polite. “He canstay,” she says. “Just don’t expect me to sit next to him at dinner.”

“What kind of host do you think I am?” Kol asks, some of hisoffense genuine.

She smiles sunnily, ducking out from under his arm, “Thekind that’s quick with the refills, I hope.”

Kol heads to the kitchen and Caroline makes her way towardsKatherine. She might be a mature adult but that doesn’t mean she’s not gratefulfor an ally.

Fingers crossed Kol keeps up the heavy pours.

Caroline’s still in the habit of checking to see if thehallway is a Klaus free zone. She does it automatically now, even late on aSunday evening, a bag of trash clutched in her hand.

The coast had seemedclear.

She nearly has a heart attack when she spots Klaus on thefloor, halfway between her doorway and his. He’s sitting down, leaning againstthe wall. His eyes are closed and he’s listing to one side.

She freezes, but only for a second. Then she’s moving, garbagedropped, forgotten, as she lurches over to kneel next to him. She checks hishead first, her hands gentle. “Klaus? Klaus, wake up.” He doesn’t even twitch,slipping further to the left.

Caroline runs one hand over his body, checking for injuries,her other going to his neck. “Please,be okay. I need you to be okay,” she mutters. Feeling around, she finds asteady pulse. “Thank god.”

She’s shaking and she regrets not bothering with any firstaid refreshers after college. Her panic eases slightly when she realizesthere’s no blood, that he’s warm to the touch. She manages to take a shakybreath in. “Klaus, open your eyes.” No response. She shuffles closer, raisingher voice, shaking his shoulder gently. “Klaus, please. Wake up. Tell me whathappened. What do you need?” Caroline leans closer, tipping his head in herdirection and he groans.

Caroline gets a strong whiff of bourbon.

Oh, she’s going to killhim.

“You’re drunk?” she shrieks. “I practically have a heartattack because I think you were freaking deadand you’re…”

His face creases in pain and she presses her lips together,still fuming. His lashes flutter and when he manages to open his eyes they’rehazy, confused. “Sweetheart,” he slurs, “Why’re you…”

He blinks, looking passed her, “Hallway,” he manages, aftera long moment. “Where’s my…”

Klaus’ hands go to pat at his pockets. One of them had beenkeeping him upright-ish and Caroline grabs him before he can hit to floor, tugginguntil he’s propped against the wall. “Careful!” she scolds.

Klaus is either unconcerned or unaware that he’d just nearlyface planted. “Couldn’t find my keys. I think I left them in the car.”

She considers leaving him. He’s a grown up who’d chosen topickle his liver without bothering to ensure he’d get to bed safely. He’s sonot her problem.

She can’t make herself stand up and walk away.

Caroline squeezes her eyes shut, sucks in a breath through herteeth. She’s a little calmer when she opens her eyes again. Klaus is slumpedwhere she left him, sleepy eyed and watching her raptly. “Okay,” she saysbriskly. “Who dropped you off?” She’s got most of Klaus’ usual drinking buddiesin her phone.

“Blonde girl. Pretty, but not as pretty as you.”

The compliment doesn’t land as Klaus had intended. Sheshoves his shoulder, forgetting his lack of balance, has to yank at his shirtto keep him from going down. “You were on a date?” she hisses. She shouldprobably try to keep her lid on her outrage, doesn’t want Klaus to know how herstubborn stupid feelings linger, but maybe he’ll be too out of it to remember.

A girl can dream.

“Pro tip, maybe don’t get falling down drunk on a date.You’re probably not going to get a second.”

He laughs, louder than he usually does, his head tippingback against the wall. She hates herself for it but she studies him moreclosely, looking for a lipstick smudge or a mouth shaped bruise, checking tosee if the buttons of his shirt line up.

When he quiets he reaches for her, his hand circling herwrist. “Don’t want a second. Or even a first. Don’t want her.”

That doesn’t make awhole lot of sense but he’s clearly had an awful lot of bourbon. Carolineignores the jealousy that’s still making her a little sick, does her best to bebusiness like. Once she’s solved this Klaus situation she’ll retreat to thebath tub with her emergency Haagen Daaz. She tries to tug her arm away butKlaus’ is unwilling to be shaken off. “Can you text your new pretty blonde friendand get her to swing back with your keys? Or does Rebekah or Kol have a spareset?” Elijah’s out of town, Caroline knows, won’t be back until Tuesday. They’dchatted about his business trip at Kol and Enzo’s.

“Phone’s dead.”

“Of course it is,” Caroline grumbles. Klaus had availedhimself of the backup charger she carries in her purse way more than she everhad. “I’ll text Kol.”

She pulls back enough to snap a pic of Klaus, sends it off.

Caroline [11:23 PM]:Found: 1 drunk brother.

Caroline [11:23 PM]:Please bring keys and take him off my hands.

Kol [11:24 PM]: Heleft them in the Uber. I found them.

Caroline [11:24 PM]:Awesome.

Caroline [11:24 PM]:Did you have a fun double date?

Caroline [11:24 PM]:I heard Klaus’ new lady friend is pretty.

She regrets the text as soon as she sends it. It’s not herbusiness and Kol will read way toomuch into the statement. Not that it’ll be hard when, even via text, it drips with how pissed she is. Klaus’thumb traces circles on her skin. It’s distracting so she’ll blame him for herimpulsiveness.

Kol [11:25 PM]:What? It was strictly boys only, darling. Marcel got a new job.

She’s not owed an explanation. That doesn’t mean she canresist fishing for one.

Caroline [11:26 PM]:He’s not my boyfriend anymore. You don’t have to cover for him. It’s not likehe’s cheating.

Kol [11:26 PM]:Like I’d have covered for him if he’d have been dumb enough to cheat on you.

Kol [11:27 PM]:The only women he talked to tonight were the waitress and the Uber driver.

Kol [11:27 PM]: Ioffered my world class wingman skills and a red head in a scandalous top madesex eyes but Nik was more interested in his glass.

Kol [11:27 PM]:His many glasses, I should say.

She’s probably a terrible person but she’s pleased. She’llnever admit as much, however.

Caroline [11:28 PM]:I’m confused.

Kol [11:28 PM]:Me too. I’m going to text our Uber driver your number. I gave her $40 to dropNik’s keys off. Will you grab them from her?

Caroline [11:29 PM]:I should make him sleep it off in the hallway.

Kol [11:29 PM]:Probably. But you won’t.

He’s totally right and it’s super annoying.

Caroline [11:29 PM]:Fine.

Caroline [11:30 PM]:I will get him safely inside his apartment but that’s it. I’m not tucking himin, I’m not making sure he’s hydrated. I might steal all the painkillers fromhis medicine cabinet.

Kol [11:31 PM]:Hell hath no fury.

Caroline [11:31 PM]:Shut up.

She’s not scorned, damn it. Klaus hadn’t technically wrongedher in any way. As much as she’d like to she can’t blame him for the lingeringsoft spot she has for him. That’s all on her.

Caroline makes sure her ringer is on, turns the sound wayup, and shoves her phone into her pocket. She debates getting Klaus to stand,hauling him into her place. She suspects he’d make himself at home on her couchand that getting him into his place would be more of a struggle. Instead, shesits next to him, resigns herself to waiting. She turns her head so she canlook at him, “Do you have to puke or anything?”

He makes a noise of denial, his palm slipping over hers. Hemoves closer, his head tipping down to watch as his fingers tangle with hers.She probably shouldn’t be allowing the touching, definitely shouldn’t beenjoying it, but if it keeps Klaus in this quiet and cooperative stage ofdrunkenness she’ll let it happen.

He’d never been particularly fond of PDA. Except when he wasdrunk.

In private he’d always been touching her, would pull herclose and tangle his hands in her hair when they watched TV. She’d usuallywoken up in the middle of the bed, Klaus pressed against her. He’d liked itwhen she wore his clothes, used his shampoo and soap. Liked leaving marks onher skin even more, scraped her with his stubble until her skin was red andsensitive, left little bites that would become bruises, hints of pain as aprecursor to pleasure.

She tries to pull away again, feels the back of her neck gettinghot. Klaus’ grip remains firm.

He flips her palm over, presses the back of her hand to histhigh. Traces the lines he finds delicately.

She sinks her teeth into the inside of her lip when shewants to shiver.

“Did you at least have fun?” she asks.

The shake of his head is slow. “Not particularly. Tried tobeg off but Marcel says I’ve been too much of a hermit recently.”

“Didn’t think you were susceptible to a guilt trip.”

“There might have been some threats too.”

She considers pressing. Drunk as he is, he might be pliantand Caroline’s always liked to new information. But Klaus’ secrets shouldn’t beof any concern to her. She’s struggling to let go of him, knowing more mightmake that harder. She keeps her reply disinterested, “That sounds about right.”

“Did you have fun the other night? At Kol’s? You seemed to.”

She’s still half-turned to face him, watches his expressiongrow darker. She’d kept a room between them at all times, had waited untiltheir various mutual friends had wandered into her orbit before talking tothem. Had excused herself to use the restroom whenever it looked like Klausmight get close, or a topic that might draw him in was brought up. She’d beenextra bubbly to try to cover any weirdness, had made jokes and laughed loudlyand steered all conversations away from her and how she’d been doing.

Honestly? It had been exhausting.

“I always enjoy myself at Kol’s,” she says. “He makes thedip I like.”

“You barely ate.”

She bristles and the idle patterns he’d been drawing on herpalm halt. Would it kill him to just make polite small talk here? She’s trying. “Well, that’s a littlestalker-y.”

Klaus doesn’t seem to take offense. “Guilty, love. I’dresolved myself to asking you to talk to me in private but you thwarted myefforts.”

She manages to yank her hand away, puts a few extra inchesbetween them. “We don’t need to talk privately.”

“I made a mistake.

Would he be saying this sober? Caroline’s not sure. “Klaus,stop.”

He doesn’t listen. “I thought… well, I was wrong aboutsomething. And then I realized what an idiot I was for…”

“Stop,” she repeats, more forcefully. “You’re drunk. Thisisn’t the time.”

“Would you talk to me if I was sober?”

She keeps her eyes on her lap. His tone is distinctlywheedling and she doesn’t trust herself not to cave if she looks over.

“You seemed awfully reluctant the other night.”

Her phone rings and she heaves herself to her feet, sends asilent thank you to the Uber driver with flawless timing. She pats Klaus’shoulder, makes sure he’ll stay upright. “You’ll just have to ask nicely andfind out.

Caroline takes the stairs, not willing to wait for the elevator,to give Klaus the time to formulate a reply.

The last twenty minutes have been an emotional whirlwind.Klaus can give her a little time to recover before he throws her into another.

Caroline doesn’t sleep. At all. She’s not happy about it.

When 6 AM rolls around she knows she should make a pot ofcoffee and hop in the shower, resign herself to going heavy on the under eyeconcealer. Instead, she grabs her phone, emails her boss, and takes a sick day.Something she never does so it won’tbe questioned.

She throws a robe on – her least cute one – and marches overto Klaus’ place. She knocks. And knocks, and knocks. Until her knucklesprotest.

He looks awful when he throws the door open (and a tiny bitmurderous but that evaporates when he sees her) his shirt wrinkled and skinpale. His hair is flat on the left, where an odd pattern from whatever surfacehe’d been sleeping on is pressed into his cheek, and a snarl of curls on theright. Caroline crosses her arms, “Invite me in.”

He wants to talk? They’re going to get this over with.Otherwise she’s going to dwell and Klaus has been occupying far too much of hermental energy lately. She figures there are two possible outcomes. First, theyresolve whatever’s lingering between them, for real this time, and he fadesinto the background of her life, a friend of a friend who happens to live downthe hall. In the other option, the one she’s kind of rooting for, he continuesto take up a ton of space in her brain and buys her dinner and provides regularorgasms for her trouble. Along with good conversations, cute drawings, andregular arguments about the merits of reality television.

Klaus steps back, pulling the door open wider, and Carolinebrushes passed him. She heads to his kitchen, goes directly for the cupboardwhere he keeps the coffee. “If we don’t do this now I’m going to be thinkingabout it all day. I won’t get anything on my goals list accomplished and I’llbe cranky. So I thought we could just… I don’t know, rip off the band aid.”

Klaus still hasn’t said anything but when she twists herhead to check his reaction he’s smiling. “Let me grab a couple painkillers andwe’ll have coffee.”

Caroline winces, reaching into her pocket. She sets theTylenol bottle on the island between them. “I was kind of pissed last night. Istole these.”

He laughs, opens his fridge. Pulls out a bottle of applejuice. Drinks directly from it like some kind of heathen. Caroline wrinkles hernose, “Gross. What if someone else wants some and doesn’t want your cooties?”

“I haven’t had anyone over in ages.”

It’s not surprising information, Caroline had gleaned asmuch from his comments last night. Still, she finds the confirmation that Klaushasn’t been having company welcome.

She turns her attention back to brewing the coffee. Onceeverything is set she flicks the button, takes a deep breath, turns to faceKlaus fully. “I don’t understand what happened.”

He sighs, all traces of amusement fleeing. “I know.”

“I thought things were good. We’d exchanged keys. We’d talkedabout me moving in when my lease was up. You didn’t seem freaked out about that.”

“I wasn’t. Honestly.” Klaus runs a hand through the flatside of his hair, making it slightly more symmetrical. “I heard that you turneddown a promotion.”

She stares at him and it takes her a second to realize whathe’s talking about. “What, the Seattle thing? I never even considered takingit. It was barely a move up. Andmoving across the country? I can barely get my mom to come here.”

He looks down, leans against the counter behind him. Klausisn’t one for embarrassment but she thinks his ears might be turning pink. “Ididn’t realize that at the time. Katerina kindly explained it to me a few weeksago.”

Yeah, Caroline would bet Kat hadn’t been especially kind.

“How did you even know about it?”

“I had to send my laptop away, remember? Borrowed yours afew times. You left a few of the emails open.”

Caroline groans, crossing her arms. “You broke up with mebecause you snooped?” She’d used theoffer to leverage a bit of a pay raise. Her boss had been only too willing tokeep Caroline around. She hadn’t told Klaus, had wanted it to be settledbecause she’d been pricing out winter getaways in St. Lucia.

“I feel as if snoopedimplies a bit of effort,” Klaus mutters. “An ulterior motive.” He’s lucky there’snothing she can throw at him.

“So not the point,” she snaps.

Caroline whirls, intending to get a bit of distance, but hegrabs her arm, steps in front of her. “Wait a minute, don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving,geez. I wouldn’t have invaded your place this early if I wasn’t committed togetting all the gory details.”

He’s not entirely convinced, ducking down to catch her eyes,his pleading. “I didn’t want to hold you back.”

She snorts, claps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, but that’sawfully conceited of you. Also, reallyarrogant. Kind of on brand, I guess.”

She’s only half teasing.

Annoyance flickers across Klaus’ features. “Funny. I thoughtI was being selfless.”

She swallows back the reply that wants to shoot out – she’sfairly certain he’d been scared butit she uses that against him flippantly he’ll be the one storming out and they’llnever get anywhere. “Klaus. I’m notselfless. Had I really wanted Seattle I would have asked you to come with me.”

That shocks him. His eyes widen, mouth falling open and hestruggles for words.

Her hearts started pounding, nerves tightening her stomachbut Caroline continues, flipping her hair over her shoulder and striving fornonchalance. “You work from home like 95% of the time anyway. You’d just haveto fly back once a month. And we’d need to get an extra bedroom or two becauseI’m pretty sure at least one of your siblings would be visiting every weekendbecause you’re co-dependant weirdos. But, since they all have excellent tastein significant others, I was prepared to deal.”

Klaus seems to be having trouble processing. “Why… why wouldyou…”

She knots her hands together because they’re shaking. Hervoice isn’t steady either, “Because I loved you, duh. And I was pretty surethat you loved me too.” He’d never said it but then, neither had she. Klaus isgood at actions – showing up with dinner when she’d texted that her day hadbeen busy, not complaining when she got his shirt all wet during the sad moviesthat he hated, keeping the scented candles she liked in his apartment. There’dbeen dozens upon dozens of tiny little things that showed he paid attention,that he wanted her to be comfortable and happy.

She’d found she hadn’t really needed the words.

He reaches for her, his hands settling on her hips. Carolinelets herself be pulled, fits her body to his. It’s just as right as sheremembers. When his head dips she dodges, resting her head against his shoulder.She tightens her arms around him, just in case he gets any silly, wrong, ideasabout pulling away. “I’m gonna need a little grovelling before I consent tomake up sex.”

She feels him laugh, hears the low husk of it against her ear.“How about I make you breakfast?”

Caroline thinks that’s a great start.

[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 47

Up in the air, his mind kept wandering off to that beauty he had left back there in New York, he grabbed his phone to check for the umpteenth time if there was any mail or text from her..but still nothing, wait..what time was it there now? she was probably asleep already. Ok, he would start, so that she would have some news from him the minute she opened her eyes, he switched screens and in doing so, the picture of Val popped back up and he smiled, well at least she was gonna be there to distract him from his loneliness when he landed in Italy, it wasn’t gonna fix anything, but it was something to look forward to. How was it even possible to fall asleep when her sheets still smelled like him? Just close your eyes and fall asleep, it’s not that hard, you’ll see him again soon enough, what is one month without him in the scope of eternity?. This wasn’t gonna work, just thinking about him made her even more restless, ok fine, she grabbed her phone and tapped on her mailbox app, whoopwhoop mailmailmail, yesss, mail from him already.

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: Not my first, but definitely my last!

Babe,

I’m sitting here several miles up high here in the sky, and the most rational thing I can come up with is that I miss you, I know how corny that probably sounds to a tough cookie like yourself, but whatever, I just needed to say it! Unfortunately it won’t do anything to keep this blues at bay, but on the other hand, it made me realize that from this moment on, I can start counting down the days, the biggest hurdle => leaving you behind has been taken, from here on it just can’t get any worse, tomorrow when I wake up or go to sleep (see? This jetlag is already getting me all disorientated) it’s gonna be 29 days until I see you again, not 30, because 30 is unbearable, but 29 is not.

Out of the window, I can see this one, amazingly bright star, can you see it too down there? I’ve had a talk with that star and I’ve told her to keep an eye on you, can you see her? It’s the third one from the right and she’s twinkling like crazy, that’s because she’s trying to tell you what I’ve told her about you.

Halfway between America and Europe, that’s what the little screen in front of me is telling me, every mile is a mile more distance between us..and right now that’s hard to live with..

Anyway, I’m gonna try and get some sleep myself, so I won’t be such a jetlagged zombie when I land, and it’ll take my mind off you for a while, although I’m sure you’ll still be there in every single one of my dreams.

I love you x 1000000

Jay

Sweet, beautiful, hunk of a man, my man! She sighed and clutched the phone to her chest, thinking of what she was going to write to him, just not..now..god she was so tired..her eyes slowly fell shut, all the stress and the commotion of the last couple of days, was catching up with her. Touchdown in a rainy Florence, the sound of the screeching breaks and the wheels splashing over the wet tarmac, this was real, life as he had known it for so many years was about to start again, life on the road, with her it had been so much more fun, it had so much more meaning to it. Stop complaining, Jared, do as you told her, count down the days, hidden behind umbrellas he could already see the welcoming committee, he shoved all his belongings into his bag and as soon as the jet had come to a stop, he hopped down the stairs. “Welcome back little brother!” Shannon pulled him in for a bear hug while Stevie bumped fists with him, “did you get my message?” his brother wiggled his eyebrows at him, “yeah, I did, where is she?” he shouted above the noise of the engines, “back at the hotel, she’s expecting you” Shannon said all excited and held open the door for him. “How was NY?” his brother tried to distract him from constantly checking his phone, “haven’t seen much of New York, we spent most of our short time together indoors, we had so much time to sort out and talk about” he breathed absentmindedly, why hadn’t she sent anything back?. “Talking? Is that how they call fucking your girl’s brains out, these days?” Shannon and Stevie burst out into a fit of giggles, “how old are you both? 5?” Jared threw them an annoyed glare, she would have probably laughed about it too if she had been here, but right now their words only bugged him. “Anyway, everything set up for tonight? Is there time to have a couple of hours of sleep before we hit that stage again? I think I’ll skip soundcheck just this once” he quickly changed the subject, couldn’t this car go any faster? He just wanted to be horizontal for a couple of hours.

After half an hour, the car finally stopped in front of the hotel, he jumped out and pulled his hood over his head when he noticed a vast row of fans waiting for them at the side of the entrance, he loved them all dearly but right now, he didn’t exactly want to be disturbed, so he quickly gestured at Shannon to go see them and hurried inside the lobby. His key ready in his hand, he walked out of the elevator and headed for his suite, putting the card in the lock he opened the door, “well hello stranger” her voice startled him, there she was lying on her side, tapping the empty spot next to her. “Val..” he dropped his bag and walked over to the bed, sitting down waiting for her to sit up and give her a hug, “hello stranger” wow, a moist kiss landed under his ear “been way too long” and her hot breath raked across his throat as she pulled him down with him. “Heyheyhey” his hand locked around hers when it ventured down his back to the curve of his butt “I’ve already got someone special to do that” he tried to keep his tone light but her audacity bothered him, ok so they had a thing a while back but that fizzled out because he had lost interest. Yes, she was a model, that type that everyone expected him to fall for and be with but there just wasn’t enough to keep him interested..sometimes he could have sworn he heard the wind blow right through that head of hers, cliché? Maybe but oh so true, intellectually he needed more in a woman than this bubblehead, he couldn’t fill his days talking about make-up, weight loss and whose yacht the vacation should be spent on in order to get maximum exposure in all the right gossip rags. “Someone as special as me? I find that hard to believe” she let go of him with an annoying giggle, “anyway, Shannon reserved a table at one of these cool trattorias for all of us and after that we’re going to party” she grabbed her phone and showed him a picture of what looked like the hottest club in town. “I don’t know, I’ve got a show to play and I’m completely jetlagged” he already knew her answer, “what are you? 105? You’re coming, we’re definitely dancing tonight, a little bit of alcohol will help even more with sleeping off that jetlag”. Purring in anticipation she cupped his chin and pushed a quick, chaste kiss on his lips before she got up, adjusting her hair in front of the mirror, “I’m not making any promises, in the meantime this 105-year old is gonna have a little nap” he so wanted to wipe the taste of her mouth off his lips, “ok, Daddy, or should I call you grandpa now? I’ll let you snooze, I’ll see you at the show” the deviousness lit up in her eyes as she let her thumb seductively caress her lips, throwing him a fat wink as she exited the room. What just happened? He hung his head and shook it, Val happened, that’s what, he had moved on, she clearly hadn’t, he let himself fall back against the cushions, her perfume lingering there, and boy did it smell like trouble.

From: HCDeRobiano

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: Re: Not my first, but definitely my last!

Love of my life,

That’s definitely a first, saying that or writing that down, and boy it’s scary, but I refuse to delete it, so you enjoy that.

I’ve been painting all night and all morning, with a little nap inbetween, and it’s been a blast, don’t take this the wrong way, but in a way I’m glad, for all the obvious reasons, you’re not around, because it’s simply impossible to keep my focus when you strut around my loft oozing pure sex. No, I’m not gonna do this, I’m not even gonna think about having rampant sex with you or I’ll never finish this painting..that being said, I should have made a cast of that amazing dick of yours so I could make a dildo out of it,(hey I’ve had enough sculpting classes to pull it off, no pun intended), and fuck myself silly with it, because I could do with one of your thorough fuckings right now..NO! no dirty talk, no online sex, and definitely not via e-mail, nope not gonna do that, not gonna happen! Do you touch yourself thinking about me at all? Stop it Harper, stop it right now!

Anyway, by the time you’re reading this, you’re probably already on a stage singing, girls fainting in the front row, throwing themselves at your feet..*sigh* it’s hard (I bet it is though! No stop Coco, just stop shooting off that sassy mouth of yours, only filth seems to come out of it today anyway).

I’m gonna take a cold shower and then I’m heading to bed to wake up soaked all over again, I’m sure (I swear I’ll stop)

You know what you are, Jared Leto? A shot of life, that’s what you are, I can feel it more than ever now ‘that shot of life’ has flown away from me. And here I thought I’d prove that romance wasn’t dead and I was planning on writing you a long, handwritten love letter (I used to love writing letters, and receiving them, the waiting, that crazy longing for a mailman to stop by your house, the moment you saw him slide that envelope inside the mailbox..) and all I end up doing is writing some smut on a white screen!

Love you too!

A horny Harper Coco! x

”Jay? You comin?” airhead’s voice startled him, comin? Oh yeah he was gonna come in a minute and on the spot, that was one hot e-mail, suddenly it felt really uncomfortable having an ex-lover stand here in the same room as him, an ex-lover Harper knew nothing about, just don’t get photographed with her, and hope that she soon has some catwalk to grace with her presence. “Jared? Shannon is waiting for us, the end of the show was almost an hour ago, I really want to go out!” she became a little more persistent like a a spoiled brat that was afraid not to get her way, and in the blink of an eye she snatched the phone from his hands “if you want this back, you’re gonna have to come along right now and if you’re a really..” she stepped in front of him and let her finger slide up and down over that part where his shirt met a bare piece of skin of his chest “really, really good boy, I might just give it back to you” she breathed and hopped out of the room into the hallway where Shannon was waiting for them.

[odogaronfang]

okay here it is!!! the long-awaited (not really) masterpost of hc’s about the background characters!!!

@105ttt and i have been working on this stuff for a couple weeks now and i’ve finally got around to making it into something shareable!! and i’m excited because now this means i get to use them in fics without people being completely lost!!!!

anyway this post is long so i’m gonna put it under a readmore-

Leonel

-link’s father

-captain of the guard & keeper of the wind key

-close friends with artura and valensuela since childhood

-because of the circumstances, he’s very well-read on the various legends/stories of the past heroes

-is a stand-in father for zelda sometimes because of how close she and his son(s) are

-constantly worried about his kids (sometimes because of the trouble they’ve been in, sometimes because of the trouble they cause)

-definitely the ‘cool manager’ type of captain- does what he needs to in order to run an efficient guard, but he’s also good friends with all of them

-there are days where he wants to take his kids out to town for a family day and there are days where he wants to throw them all out a window

Artura

-the captain’s top knight

-friends with leonel since childhood; they weren’t in the same battalion until they became full knights but leonel would cut sessions to go train with his group

-specialized in heavy armored combat, proficient in several kinds of weaponry but mostly uses bludgeoning weapons

-the backup dad for vio when leonel is busy because hylia knows vio needs constant supervision

-the embodiment of the gentle giant trope- does a lot of favors for people and the castle town kids ADORE him

-always busy + always tired. give artura his vacation days please

-he has a special room in the castle he goes to when he needs alone time and doesn’t want to be bothered. vio is allowed in but only grudgingly and only if he’s maintained at least one (1) week of decent behavior

-works a lot with younger trainees (mostly around link’s age); has a lot of instructional tasks on top of his regular patrol duties

-he doesn’t take off his armor in public a lot, so most people haven’t seen him out of it. there’s a joke among the younger groups that artura isn’t actually a person but rather a darknut or one of the phantom knights animated by the royal family’s magic. (actually it’s just because he’s secretly a twink and he doesn’t want people knowing that Mr. Top Knight/Mr. Living Darknut couldn’t hit 160lbs if he was soaking wet.)

Valensuela

-keeper of the water key

-close friends with leonel since childhood; was in the same trainee battalion as him

-trained for armored combat but dislikes wearing heavy plate- if he wears a lot of armor, it’s usually maille

-can dual-wield, but usually opts for one larger sword instead of two smaller ones

-basically adopts green after the pyramid incident. just steals him from leonel. green is his son now. green accidentally calls valensuela ‘dad’ once and leonel’s parentship of green ends right there.

-appears very dignified and serious but actually has a flair for the theatrical. most people are not aware of this but his friends know.

-leonel’s second-in-command, but he’s far more task-oriented and doesn’t deal with people as well as leonel does. he can come across as a little brusque with people he isn’t familiar with so he tries not to take that role if he doesn’t have to.

-not a personality headcanon but he has a scar on his forehead from when green shattered his helmet in the pyramid. and after he’s overcome the trauma that came with that whole ordeal, he definitely brags about it. someone asks what happened to him for him to have a scar like that and he’s like “oh my son did that isn’t he talented?”

Lucien

-keeper of the fire key

-so chill. extremely laid-back guy. the kind of guy you go to hang out with when you want to do something social but you don’t want to leave your house (or even your couch).

-kinda lazy when it comes to little mundane tasks, which he caught a lot of flak for while he was still in training, but wholeheartedly dedicated to his job when it comes down to it.

-basically adopts red. they’re like best buds. red makes lucien carry him around on his shoulders so he doesn’t have to walk but lucien doesn’t mind.

-absolutely the kind of person to disappear for an entire day and when you find him again and ask him where he went he says he was in the living room the whole time

-very good at cooking, but only the really time-consuming, complicated recipes, which goes directly against his low-effort nature. he rarely cooks, but everyone looks forward to the days that he does.

-also the kind of person to “work out” by doing one push up every five minutes. the second he hears someone approaching he’ll stay in mid-push-up position and when they walk in he’ll say “one thousand”. (he only actually made it to nine.)

-if he isn’t in armor he’s in sweats. “dress more professionally” the captain says to him one day. he shows up to breakfast the next morning wearing sweats again, but this time he also has a tie on.

-the tallest of the group, which artura makes fun of (it’s all in good fun. he just makes fun of artura for being so small.)

Wes

-keeper of the earth key

-the high-energy go-getter of the group. his energy alone balances out the chronically low-key natures of artura and lucien. basically an eternal child at heart.

-ALWAYS ready to throw down. it isn’t even that he has anger issues, he just needs a way to get rid of his restless energy while also triumphing in his various conflicts, and to him, fighting (within the controlled setting of a spar) is the easiest way to do that.

-one of those people that has to be physically restrained from doing dumb things. “hey i bet i could land in the hot spring if i jumped from the third story balcony” “wes you will break all of the bones in your lower body” “and??”

-also the guy in the group that’s constantly making bets and daring people to do things. he violates the sanctity of the triple dog dare by using it literally every time. he is also eerily good at predicting the correct outcome of bets.

-learns little things like sleight-of-hand tricks just to fudge them at the end; he’ll keep a group of little kids enamored with the “magic” before asking if they want to see the finale where he makes the cards disappear. the kids say yes and he just hurls the entire deck into a nearby bush. “there,” he says with pride as he walks away, “they’re gone.” (he would never actually upset the kids. if they look too disappointed he’ll sigh and go get the cards and do an actual disappearing trick just to make them better.)

-definitely takes blue under his wing. they spar like every morning. the other links might try to go on kitchen raids without their parents’/mentors’ knowing but blue goes WITH wes to go steal the best-looking cookies fresh off the baking sheet. arcy always gives wes grief for enabling that behavior but wes knows she won’t actually do anything about it

Selenas

-another of the captain’s high-ranking knights

-the exasperated lawful good of the group. he tries so hard to get the rest of them to follow the rules but it never works. he knows there’s no point to the efforts anymore but he still tries.

-the constant sigh-er of the group. you’d think he had respiratory issues if you didn’t know him.

-is tasked with helping to keep shadow in line because of his lawful good status. he’s the strict parent who insists upon balanced meals with a lot of vegetables and who believes in a strict 8pm bedtime. he will not hesitate to confiscate shadow’s laptop if he’s misbehaving. shadow despises him but he’s doing all of hyrule a great favor.

-doesn’t safeguard a royal jewel so he’s kind of an outlier but it’s fine, everything’s fine, he doesn’t need a jewel to prove that he’s a good knight and no, he isn’t envious, no not even a tiny bit, why would anyone ask that,

-prefers long-reach weapons like pikes and halberds over swords/daggers

[all of the above-mentioned knights are collectively referred to as the cape squad by the links]

Arcy

-one of the castle chefs

-an ex-knight; had barely made it into full knighthood before receiving a career-ending injury

-decided to continue work at the castle as a chef so she could still be around friends + to provide for her daughter

-was in the same trainee battalion as artura for armored combat, so they’re old friends

-her daughter is adopted; keina is the biological daughter of a late friend of arcy’s who died from birth complications

-is actually still technically in reserve for the guard; in a state of emergency she’s tasked with aiding evacuation efforts

-she’s the most popular chef among the knights because she takes requests. there’s a weekly competition among battalions and the winning one gets to choose the weekend meals that she makes. it’s a good motivator, especially for the ones in training, and it also gets her friends in high places (:

Keina

(see above images)

-arcy’s adopted daughter

-she’s very sickly; she’s never gone beyond the gates of castle town and barely even leaves the castle grounds. the only time she’s been beyond castle town was when she fled the castle with arcy, and she was in extremely poor health the entire time.

-she’s friends with the links + erune; they’ll often visit her and bring her things from other towns (or in erune’s case, her hometown) so she can still experience new things

-has a lot of pen pals all over hyrule since she can’t leave her home to go see people- she gets like two dozen letters a week and it helps keep her busy

-very knowledgeable on a lot of different subjects! because she’s often home- and sometimes even bed-bound, she spends a lot of time reading and writing and will sometimes illustrate as well. she’d like to be some kind of professional scholar so she can still contribute even when her health prevents her from travel.