#I have enough savings for maybe 4 weeks of rent at the suite

[cielphantomvibes]

yeah so my life is over

[ssinnerplazahotel]

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*Chapter Nine*

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WC: 8k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Time is a strange thing. It has a way of going by slowly and in a hurry all at the same time. It doesn’t wait for you or let you catch up. You discovered early on that if you focused too much on time it drifted by slowly. If you kept yourself busy and focused on other things it went by without you noticing too much. So you kept yourself as busy as possible.

Although you had plenty of money saved, you got a job within your first week of being in Atlanta. You waited tables at a small diner just a few blocks from the apartment you were renting.

It wasn’t the nicest apartment. It was above a family-owned restaurant and your landlord wasn’t the most forgiving woman in the world, but it was in the heart of the city and close enough to your job.

It wasn’t entirely without incident that you’d ended up there. When you arrived at the train station you’d decided to take the first train leaving that was going the furthest away.

Regardless, you didn’t regret the decision. It was a busy city, and you needed to be busy.

When you called Dawn that first night, from a hotel in the middle of a completely different state, she tore into for nearly thirty minutes. You were able to convince her that you were fine, and that you were doing what was necessary. You weren’t having a breakdown, you were trying to prevent one.

You didn’t expect to spend the next month searching for a place to be. That month of aimlessly wandering was unnerving, but now you were settling nicely in Georgia now.

You had left Memphis behind and you were gaining important life skills and managing your finances. It wasn’t the most ideal job, but you were able to throw yourself into your work everyday.

You were happy with the way things were going. And the more consumed you were with work and surviving, the less effort it took not to think about him.

You missed him every single day, a part of you always would. But it didn’t hurt as much anymore. The hole he left in your heart was still there, hollow but numb now.

“You got company, treasure,” Your coworker called out to you from the kitchen.

“Give me that sirloin, Chuck, I asked for it first.” You ducked your head to talk to him through the service window. “You get around like an old man.”

“You got one coming in hot,” He responded. “If you were nicer maybe you’d get your shit faster.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Looks like somebody’s lost,” Sinclair, a fellow waitress at the restaurant, said as she walked over to grab her order. You followed her gaze to the man taking a seat in your section. It wasn’t a segregated restaurant by any means, but only a certain demographic of people really ate there—this man, wearing a fancy suit and sunglasses in the middle of the night, didn’t fit into any of those boxes. “Let him know this ain’t Sterling’s.”

You laughed. “I might let him think it is for a big enough tip.”

“Speaking of big enough.” Sinclair called out to Chuck through the service window. “Where’s that sirloin?”

“Hey, next one’s mine.” You took your notepad and pen out of the front pocket of your apron. “I’m coming right back for it, Chuckles.”

“I’ll have it for you, treasure, don’t worry. I’m only one man.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way over to your section. You stopped to check on a few people before you made it to the man’s table. He wore dark shades even though it was nighttime and he kept his head down looking at the menu until you spoke.

“Hello,” You said, getting his attention before introducing yourself. “I’m going to be taking care of you tonight. What can I get started for you?”

He hesitated as he read your name from your name tag. He had an odd tone when he spoke but you couldn’t make out his expression behind the sunglasses.

“Yes.” You smiled politely, preparing to write. “What can I get started for you?”

“Well I’ll be, it is you.” He laughed. “What are you doin here?”

“I think you have me confused with someone else.” You smiled uncomfortably. “Just one of those faces~”

“Oh, no, it’s me.” He stood and removed the glasses.

“Joel?” Your stomach dropped. “Oh my god.”

Joel laughed, hugging you enthusiastically. “I haven’t seen you since you took off.”

You froze when he hugged you, uncomfortably patting his back with one hand before he pulled away. You glanced around the restaurant to see if anyone was watching, catching a few eyes before looking up at him again. “W-What are you doing here, Joel? Are you here with someone?”

“No, I’m alone.” He still looked stunned to see you.

“I-I hardly recognized you for a second,” You stammered.

“You look~ I mean~ you haven’t changed.” He laughed. “I only been out here a couple weeks or so with my parents.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, my dad opened up a repair shop just off the highway.”

“Auto repair?” You presumed.

“Yeah, he wanted me up here with ‘im. He’s got me fixin cars all day.”

“Why Atlanta?”

“I guess he thinks city folk have more car trouble,” He chuckled. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Why here?”

You shrugged. “I just found myself here. No reason really.”

“It’s a strange city,” Joel said. “I don’t think I’ve slept a wink since I been here.”

“I guess that explains the sunglasses in the middle of the night?”

“Oh, yeah, not to mention that I’m so hungover I can’t see straight.” He smiled when you laughed. “I don’t get out much but I pay the price when I do.”

“Well, sit down, I’ll bring you some coffee.” You smiled and turned to walk away before he stopped you.

“Maybe we can catch up,” He said. “You’re the only familiar face I seen since I been here.”

“I’m working right now.”

“After?”

You hesitated. “I-I don’t know…”

His face fell slightly. “That’s fine, I understand.”

You felt bad about declining the offer. He was a familiar face and he’d had a good rapport with Dawn and you would consider him an old friend, even though you rarely ever spoke. “…I’m off in the next hour. If you’re willing to wait.”

“Yeah.” He nodded with a smile. “I’m not in any rush.”

You smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be right here,” He said, retaking his seat.

Sinclair looked at you with narrowed eyes as you walked over to the service window. “You know that man?”

“He’s an old friend,” You said, leaning down to talk to Chuck. “Give it to me, baby.”

“I got you,” He said. “Order up in five.”

“Order up now.” You walked away to pour up the coffee.

“How do you know him?” Sinclair asked as Chuck served her orders through the window.

“He knows my aunt,” You stated simply. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Sinclair said, checking her tickets. “Can’t I ask?”

“I never said you couldn’t.” You took your orders out of the window and loaded them onto a serving tray. “Thanks, Chuckles.”

“You’re welcome,” He said. “You gone in an hour?”

“I’m gone in forty-nine minutes.” You dropped your orders at your other tables before taking Joel his coffee. He ordered his food and you took the ticket back to Chuck.

The final hour of a shift was always the hardest to get through, but you managed to finish out strong. You set up the next waitron before clocking out in the back.

“See you tomorrow,” You called to Chuck and Sinclair, waving at a few coworkers on your way over to Joel’s table. He perked up a little when he saw you, closing one of the four travel pamphlets he was reading to pass the time. “You know anything about Vegas yet?”

“Not unless you’re interested in a Tropicana Holiday,” He said, holding up the brochure. “Three days, two nights.”

You smiled and sat down across from him, draping your coat over the back of your chair and sitting your purse on the ground beside you. “How’s your head?”

“Like it never happened.”

“Good.”

One of your coworkers approached your table. Her name was Monica, that was just about all you knew about her. “What can I get started for you guys?” She asked, eyeing the two of you strangely.

“Are you hungry?” Joel asked.

“I’m fine,” You insisted quickly.

“You should eat,” He argued. “It’s on me.”

“Joel, really, it’s fine.”

“I insist.”

He ordered you something off of the menu for you and Monica jotted down the order before walking away.

“You know I can’t let you pay for it,” You said when she was gone.

“Let me. Consider it a favor from an old friend.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“I won’t let you.” He chuckled, pushing his hair out of his eyes. His blond curls still framed his face like they did when you first met him, though they were longer now—nearly dusting his shoulders. It made him look boyish even though his features were mature. “What made you leave Memphis?”

“I needed a change of scenery.” You had repeated the same lie to everyone you encountered, so much so that you were starting to believe it yourself.

“D’you still talk to Elvis at all?”

“Why would I?”

He shrugged indifferently and moved on. “I saw Dawn before I left.”

“You did?” You perked up a bit, grateful for the immediate change in subject. “How was she?”

“She was good, still workin at the house,” He said. “She’s the same old Dawn.”

Monica returned with your order and the two of you sat there talking until you finished eating. Joel was interested in hearing about the places you’d been to around the city and you were happy to tell him. You had more than enough stories to tell after being on your own for so long.

Thinking back, you weren’t sure how you’d done it. As you were recalling the memories you were also recalling how afraid and completely lost you were—fear had been the only thing you’d felt in months. You were so constantly afraid that you were used to it.

“You live near here?” Joel asked after paying the bill. “I can take you home.”

“I usually walk,” You said, grabbing your things and standing with him. “My place is just a few blocks from here.”

“I’ll walk you~”

“You don’t have to go out of your way~”

“I don’t mind, really. I want to make sure you get there alright.”

You couldn’t convince him to let you go alone, so the two of you left the restaurant together.

The entire night had been so surreal, you never expected to see anyone from Memphis again. “I can’t believe we ran into each other like this.”

“It’s funny. All these people and we still managed to bump into each other.”

You hummed in agreement. “I guess you stumbled into the right diner.”

“I guess I did.” Joel sighed. “I ain’t talked to anyone outside of my folks in a while.”

“I haven’t had time to make any friends.”

“It’s harder to make friends in the city.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “Back home, you step outside your house and you make all kinds of friends just from right there on your front porch.”

You laughed at that. “It was never that simple for me.”

“I’ve met some good people that way. You meet people everywhere here but you don’t know anyone.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that you hate Atlanta?”

“I don’t know…I think I’ll start to hate it less.”

After Joel dropped you off that night you didn’t see him again for a couple of weeks. You figured that you would see very little of him even though you were in the same state. However, he did show up again eventually.

“What are you here for? Another cure?”

“I’m sober as a judge.”

You laughed. “I would take your order but you just missed me. I’m off now.”

“Then I’m right on time.” He smiled. “I wanted to take a look at the old coupe deville. You were telling me about it.”

“You came to look at my car?” You asked incredulously. “It’s ten o’clock at night.”

“Time still doesn’t exist to me, I guess.” He shrugged sheepishly. “I understand if you have plans.”

“I don’t have any plans, Joel, it’s ten o’clock,” You said, making him laugh. “You don’t need an excuse to come see me, y’know?”

You meant it as a joke but Joel’s face still flushed slightly at your words. “Can I walk you home?”

“Just let me grab my stuff,” You said. “I’ll be quick.”

“You better be. It is ten o’clock, y’know?”

You cut your eye at him and walked to the back to get your things.

“Yo, treasure, that guy bothering you?”

“No, Chuck, didn’t I tell you he’s an old friend?”

Chuck scoffed and mumbled something under his breath before getting back to what he was doing.

“That white boy’s out there for you again,” Sinclair said, sauntering through the door.

“His name’s Joel,” You said.

“And what does Joel want with you?” She asked. “He’s been here three times now.”

“I think I know what he wants with her,” Chuck said, walking back out into the kitchen.

“Fuck you, Chuck.” You shrugged on your jacket and faced Sinclair. “He’s been here three times?”

“He came while I was covering your shift last week,” She said. “Speaking of, I’m gonna need you to return the favor. Wendell has a parent-teacher conference at school Friday night and Marc can’t make it.”

You nodded, distracted. “I can do Friday night.”

“It’s three to eleven, my usual.”

“I’ll make it work, don’t worry.”

Sinclair thanked you and wished you a safe trip home before getting back to her tables. You put on a smile as you met Joel, admittedly drained but not wanting to let it show.

“How was your day?” He asked, his hands shoved casually into the pockets of his acid washed jeans as you walked along the quiet sidewalk.

“Okay,” You responded. “Long.”

“I hear you,” Joel sighed.

“My coworker said you came by sometime last week,” You mentioned. “You weren’t looking for me were you?”

“I don’t know.” He smiled, embarrassed.

“Why were you looking for me?”

“I don’t~”

“You have to know. A person doesn’t just do things without knowing why.”

“I don’t know,” He said anyway, making you shoot him a glare. He laughed it off. “Maybe I wanted to see you.”

He looked away as he spoke, kicking at the loose rocks on the sidewalk.

“Is that bad?” He asked when you didn’t respond, still looking down at the sidewalk, watching the rocks as they skidded ahead each time he kicked them.

“No, I don’t think so,” You said. “Do you think it is?”

“I don’t know,” He said, laughing in realization. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to~”

“It’s fine.” You smiled.

“I was already out tryna to get away from my parents, so I figured I’d try you again today.”

“Do your parents smother you?” You asked.

“Oh yeah.” He heaved a sigh. You couldn’t tell if he was frustrated at the thought of his parents or relieved to be shifting subjects. “They always have. Mama’s terrible about it, and daddy—he does whatever she tells him to. They don’t think I can make it on my own.”

“I’m sure they do it out of love.”

“I know.” He brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Everything I do is to try and prove to them that I can take care of myself. I’m starting to think they’ll always see me as a kid.”

“You should talk to them,” You suggested. “If they love you enough they’ll hear you out and try to change.”

“You think so?”

“It’s worth the shot.”

Joel smiled. “This is why I like being around you. You always have something good to say.”

You laughed in denial. “I know how it feels to be stuck in a box and not know how to get out.”

“Your folks overbearing?” Joel asked.

“Dawn’s really my only family.”

“I remember you saying that,” He said with an apologetic expression. “It must be tough being on your own.”

“It’s okay.” You were getting used to it, you almost preferred being alone. “Y-You should really talk to your parents. I think they’ll understand how you feel.”

“I will,” He said. “I’ll tell you how it goes.”

“Already planning your next stakeout,” You pointed out humorously. “Why don’t you just wait outside of my apartment instead of at my job?”

“You’re giving great advice tonight.” He laughed along with you for a moment. “Maybe I’ll catch you on a day you’re off, and it’s not ten o’clock at night.”

“You’ll have to if you plan on telling me about your talk with your parents.” Joel laughed again as you contemplated the idea. “I’m free tomorrow.”

“I’m usually done with everything at the shop around three on Thursdays—I could just….”

“That’s fine. You know the address now, I assume.”

“Locked and loaded.” He tapped his temple. “Not because I regularly stake out your apartment or anything.”

“No, of course not.” You smiled. “It’s 3B. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t,” He said. “You should give me your number. In case I have to call and cancel.”

You narrowed your eyes jokingly, coming to a stop as you approached your apartment building. You took your pen and pad out of the front of the apron you still wore under your coat and jotted down your number and address. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Joel said, taking the ticket. “Good night.”

You smiled and turned to walk into the restaurant that led up to your apartment.

Joel waited until you were inside before walking back the way you guys came.

“Leftovers,” Your landlady called as she wiped down the tables for the night, nodding her head at the carefully packaged food. “You’re late. I almost threw them away.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Angie,” You said as you grabbed the bag. “You’re always so kind.”

She hummed, uninterested in your compliment. “Rent’s due by the end of the week, no exceptions.”

“I’m gonna have all of it,” You promised, heading for the stairs. “Tell Mr. Ben I said goodnight.”

You climbed the stairs and got into your apartment. After putting the leftovers in the fridge you didn’t have any energy left to do anything but shower and go to bed.

You dropped your tips in your savings jar and called it a night.

*

“I looked at him and I said ‘Daddy, some things are gonna hafta change around here if I’mma keep working for you. I ain’t gonna let you and mama run me around and tell me what to do like you have been. Not anymore.’ You know what he said?”

“What?”

“He said ‘get your ass over there and start rotatin them tires.’”

You laughed from where you sat on the ground piecing together a puzzle on your coffee table. Joel sat on the sofa looking down at it as you made more progress.

“So?” You asked, glancing up at him. “What’d you do?”

“I got my ass over there and started rotating them tires.” He laughed along with you. “What was I s’posed to do?”

“He probably just didn’t know how to react,” You said, picking up another piece of the puzzle and examining the incomplete picture of a swan on a lake.

“There.” Joel pointed to the missing part of the swans beak.

“At least you tried.” You put the piece in its place. “I wouldn’t know where to start if I tried to unpack things with my dad.”

“Tell me about your dad.” He moved from the sofa and sat down next to you on the floor

“There’s nothing to tell,” You said. “He left when I was little and took my brother with him.”

“Do you remember anything about him?”

“I try not to.”

You laughed but Joel’s expression remained serious. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” You said. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“It should.” You focused on the puzzle as he spoke. “Not having both your parents ain’t easy.”

“You can’t miss what you never had.”

“Yeah, but you can long for something you should’ve.”

You met his eyes and your expression grew to match his.

“I think, even if you say there isn’t, there’s a part of you that wishes he had been there for you.”

“There isn’t.”

“It’s okay if there is~”

“There’s not, Joel.” You examined the piece in your hand, scanning the puzzle again. “I don’t have any strong feelings about the situation. It’s just something that happened.”

Joel took the puzzle piece from you and tucked it into its proper place. “He missed out on a good thing from what I can tell. It’s his loss.”

You shrugged. “I wish my brother and I would have gotten a chance to grow up together. Other than that I just…”

“Try not to think about it,” Joel finished. You nodded. “I won’t bring it up again.”

You smiled a little as he pieced together another piece of the puzzle. “Why are you actually good at this?”

“You just havta go by the colors.” He handed you another piece. “Sit back and look at the bigger picture.”

You followed his advice and leaned away from the coffee table. “Ah, I see.” You laughed, finding where the piece went immediately.

“There you go.” Joel laughed.

“I still might take you hostage and make you finish it for me.” You smiled. “I’ll never get it done on my own.”

“I’d be a willing hostage,” He said. “I like being here with you.”

You laughed again, unsure of how you should respond. “I’d make for a terrible captor.”

Joel smiled without meeting your eyes. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re a strange man, Joel,” You said. “Sometimes I wonder.”

“What do you wonder?”

“I wonder what you’re doing here.”

He looked up at you. “I like being around you.”

You nodded. “You’ve said that.”

“You want more of a reason?”

“Yes.”

He smiled again, looking off in thought as he fidgeted with the puzzle piece in his hand. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Try.”

“When I think of being anywhere else…I always rather be with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you.”

He avoided your eyes, focusing instead on where your hand rested near his on the coffee table.

“I like you too.”

“N-No, I…I like you more.”

“More?”

“I’m attracted to you.”

You fell silent. He wasn’t saying anything that you hadn’t already suspected, but you were slow to process his words.

He seemed to panic when you didn’t respond. “I don’t want that to change anything~”

“It won’t,” You reassured him. “A-And I want to spend time together when we can.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I didn’t realize how lonely I was before you came along.”

Joel’s hand brushed against yours when he shifted and you felt a rush of something between fear and panic but you didn’t pull away.

“I can always keep you company.”

“Would you?”

“If you wanted me to.” His eyes darted to your lips for less than a second before landing on your eyes.

Your voice was barely above a whisper when you spoke again. “…I want you to.”

Silence settled over the room and the air seemed to thicken as it went on. The space between the two of you gradually decreased and you both hesitated, you imagined for entirely different reasons. Joel started to pull away after sensing your hesitation but you closed the space between your lips before he could.

You broke the kiss immediately, anxiously awaiting his reaction. He shifted towards you, taking your face between both his hands and searching your eyes for any sign of skepticism before kissing you again.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your hands came to rest on his forearms. You only opened your eyes when he broke the kiss, finding his already on you.

“Will you stay?”

“If you want me to.”

“I want you to.”

*

Your relationship with Joel brought something into your life that you didn’t realize you were missing.

He was there for you when you needed him and even when you didn’t. He listened to you and he was interested in your thoughts. He didn’t expect anything from you. He was patient and he let you come to terms with your feelings on your own accord. He was your friend before he was your lover.

You felt different when you were with Joel. You didn’t feel nervous or anxious when you were around him. You weren’t afraid to tell him the truth and you never worried that he’d hurt you or find some way to punish you if you went against him. He was gentle with you, almost too gentle.

“I want you to meet my parents,” He said during one of his afternoon visits. “I told them about you.”

“You did?”

“They want to meet you,” He said. “They wanna know who’s been taking up all my time.”

You didn’t know what was so different at the time—why Joel made you feel so different. You soon came to realize that Joel’s way of loving you simply wasn’t the same as Elvis’ way of loving you.

You were there for each other when you had no one. There was a space you filled in each other’s lives that was different. Even though it took time, you grew to understand and accept that.

“You mean they want to know if I’m worth your time.” You stood at the counter sectioning Ms. Angie’s leftovers into airtight containers. You always had more than enough, so you usually took some to Sinclair whenever you had shifts together.

“No, I can tell them that,” Joel said. He stood behind you and slipped his arms around your waist. “Some things they gotta see for themselves.”

You laughed, shying away from the kiss he left on your cheek. “I don’t know how you’ll manage to make time. You work almost every day and I work every night.”

“I’ll make time,” He said. “You just hafta tell me when you’re off.”

“Fine,” You agreed. “But make it lunch, not dinner.”

“Lunch not dinner, got it.” He nodded once. “You taking that to Sinclair?”

“Yes,” You sighed. “If I eat another dumpling I might die. I don’t have the heart to turn it down.”

Joel laughed, letting you walk out of his arms. “I’ll pick you up tonight. 10:30?”

“10:30.” You put the containers into an old grocery bag and tied the handles before grabbing your keys. "I'll see you tonight.”

“I’ll see you.” He smiled, his eyes following you as you left. “I love you.”

You cut your eye over your shoulder, slowing to a stop. You walked back over and left a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Lock up when you leave.”

Things with Joel progressed quickly after you’d acknowledged your feelings. You were apprehensive at times about letting him into your life all at once, but you were more afraid to let him go after you’d grown attached. You feared that things would change the more he got to know you and that he’d leave on his own. But with time your trust grew and your feelings became stronger; you longed for him when he was away.

He became a part of your everyday. Long after the initial attraction that brought the two of you together had started to fade you still wanted him in your life.

Eventually, after talking and thinking it over, he moved in together. You were practically inseparable so it made the most sense.

“Marry me.”

“No.”

You were genuinely happy and you couldn’t see things any other way.

“Marry me.”

“Joel.”

You had a tolerable job, a decent place to live, and a person to share your life with.

“I’m not gonna stop asking.”

“That’s called harassment.”

It felt like you were finally getting a taste of that stability that had made you envy Andrea.

“Marry me.”

“For the love of god.”

You were somewhere in your life that you never thought you’d be.

“Please?”

You couldn’t have been more content.

“Fine. I’ll marry you.”

*

“Where are you, sugar?”

“I’m here.”

You sighed and closed the book in your hands as Joel entered your shared bedroom. He smiled when he saw you, dropping his work boots by the door.

“Look at you, lookin like a regular ol housewife.” He laughed, unbuttoning the dirty flannel he was wearing.

“You know I hate when you say that,” You said with a slight roll of your eyes.

“It’s not a bad thing,” He said, walking towards you. “Not to mention you will be soon.”

“Uh, uh.” You put a hand out to stop him. “You better wash all that off before you come over here.”

“Don’t I at least get a kiss?” He asked, still inching towards you. “I ain’t seen you all day.”

“Who’s fault is that?” You tilted you head expectantly.

“It’s my fault,” He said, kneeling on the bed. “It’s all my fault.”

You laughed despite your protests, pushing him away only after he’d stolen a kiss. He went into the bathroom to turn on the shower before leaning on the doorframe. “I meant to tell you that daddy wants me to go to Charleston after work tomorrow to pick up some parts.”

“Charleston?” You asked. “It’s gonna take all day to get there and back.”

“I know, but you can come with me and we can make it a thing.”

“‘Make it a thing?’”

“Make a trip out of it.”

“I don’t like the roads around Charleston.”

“I’ll drive.”

“Sinclair and Marcus were going to come over tomorrow night.”

“I know,” He repeated with an apologetic expression. “I don’t want to, but Charleston’s got the only place we can find that has any of those new alternators. I told you about them, they’re imported. We’re gonna be able to reach a whole nother demographic if we~”

“Baby, please, don’t go on one of your car rants.” You closed your book again, abandoning it on the bed as you stood. “This is the third time I’m going to have to cancel on them. Can’t your father go on his own for once?”

“I told him I would. It’s not like I’m doin it for free, I’m gettin paid for making the trip.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It’s my job to take care of you. You know that’s why I’m doing it, so why give me shit for it everytime?”

“Because I hardly ever see you anymore. I mean it, I don’t want to live here if it means you working all hours of the day and night.”

“We’re staying here. No one bothers us here, we keep to ourselves~”

“I’ll start working again to take away some of the pressure.”

“That’s not what I want.”

“What about what I want? I want you here, with me, more often.”

“I want to be here, sweetheart, I do. I’m not tryin to prioritize anything over you…” He worried his bottom lip as spoke, rubbing his face thoughtfully.

“But?” You prompted.

“But I hafta help at the shop as much as I can. It’s getting to be just as much my responsibility as it is daddy’s,”

“What am I supposed to do? Get in line and wait my turn for your attention?”

“You have my attention, always.” He crossed the room and took your hands in his. “If it’ll make you happy I’ll tell him I can’t go tomorrow, but I have to at some point.”

“Don’t bother.” You pulled away from him and walked away. “You don’t bother telling him anything else.”

“Why are you tearing into me right now?” He asked, shocked by your comment.

“Why won’t you tell him we’re getting married?” You faced him, arms crossed.

“I’m gonna tell him and mama~”

“When?”

“I don’t know just yet. When I can..”

“I’m starting to think you’ve changed your mind.”

“I haven’t.”

“Are you ashamed of me?” You asked.

“No, god, no.” He grew more frustrated. “I know they’ll never let me hear the end of it when they find out. It’s not about you at all.”

You fell silent, looking down to hide the tears forming in your eyes.

“I could never be ashamed of you, you’re too important to me.” He continued when you didn’t respond. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you like I should. I’ll try harder, okay? I’m gonna tell daddy I can’t go tomorrow and we’re gonna have some fun with our friends.”

You sensed him coming closer before you felt him gently lift your chin to meet your eyes.

“Don’t cry,” He whispered. “You know I hate to see you cry.”

You swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“Stay and read your book,” He said. “You can tell me about it when I’m done.”

You nodded, forcing a small smile. “Okay.”

He kissed your forehead and let you go. “I’ll be quick.”

“Joel.” You stopped him. “I don’t want to be kept a secret.”

“I’ll tell them.”

“Tomorrow.”

He looked undeniably conflicted but he nodded his head before silently retreating to the bathroom.

The next day, upon hearing the news, his father fired him and kicked him out of the shop. You had a feeling that Joel knew that his father would react that way and had been putting off telling him for that reason.

He tried to put on a brave face about the situation, but you could see it in his eyes that he was hurt. He had every right to be after years of putting so much into building and maintaining the business with his father.

“McNally’s been bugging me about coming to work for him at his dealership,” He said. “I’m sure the offer still stands.”

“I’m so sorry, Joel.” You felt like it was your fault. If you hadn’t pushed him to tell his parents he’d still have a relationship with them and a job he loved.

“I don’t want you thinking this is your fault,” He said. “We’re gonna be married and if mama and daddy can’t accept that, then…I don’t want them in our life.”

You leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed your arms. You didn’t know what to do other than apologize.

“I’m gonna change and head over to talk to McNally.” He stepped in front of you and took your face in his hands. “Don’t look so troubled, we’re gonna be alright. We might be more than alright if McNally gets me in at the dealership. There’s better pay and benefits~”

“It’s not what you love to do.”

“If it means I can take care of you, I love it.”

You slipped your arms around his torso, hugging him. He hugged you back.

“It’s all gonna work out,” He promised. He pulled away first, ducking his head to kiss your lips before he walked away. “Maybe you and Sinclair can go out tonight instead. You should take your car for a drive anyway. You’ll kill that battery leaving it sitting in the driveway all the time.”

“I’ll call her.”

“Brighten up, sugar,” He laughed. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You tried to smile. “I believe you.”

Joel secured a job working at Bibby McNally’s car dealership and, while it wasn’t something he was passionate about, he made the most of it. It was a high scale dealership and they had a lot of traffic all year round so it was never a dull moment. At times you could see him becoming drained and uninterested, but he insisted that working there was good for the two of you.

He was home more often and you got to spend more time together. It was exactly what you wanted, however, you felt guilty about him losing his job and contact with his parents.

One evening after he got off of work he came barreling into the house calling out for you. You rushed to meet him in the living room.

“What happened?” You asked in alarm.

“You aren’t going to believe this,” He said with excitement behind his words. “Guess who came into the dealership today. Guess.”

“Wha~ Who?” You asked, your eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“Elvis,” Joel said, enthusiastically. “Elvis-fucking-Presley.”

“W-What?” You tried not to let your expression grow horrified. “He did?”

“Can you believe that?” Joel walked past you in the direction of your bedroom, loosening the tie around his neck. “He came in lookin some kinda Roadrunner. I was trying to get a Pontiac off my hands and all of the sudden the lady I’m selling to screams at the top of her lungs. I turn around and there he is.”

“Did you talk to him?” You asked, following him to the room. You stopped him before he walked to the bathroom. “I’m not done.”

“I talked to him.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “He has some time off from filming, I guess.”

“Oh?” You crossed your arms to stop your hands from fidgeting.

He nodded as he slipped off his shiny dress shoes and tucked them under the foot of the bed. “He said he wanted us to come back with him to Graceland over the weekend.”

“You told him about us?” You asked.

“Yeah, he was as shocked as you could imagine.” Joel laughed. “He said he’d arrange for us to fly out tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” You asked.

“You’ve asked me a hundred questions since I walked through the door,” He said. “Tell me what you think. We should go right?”

“I-I don’t know, it’s so all of a sudden, y-y’know,” You stammered. “You have work and we’re starting a new book in my club~”

“Sweetheart.” He stood from the bed as he unbuttoned his shirt. “You’re seriously telling me that you’d pass this up to go read a book?”

“You have work.”

“I can get away for a weekend,” He said. “It could be fun. We could see Dawn while we’re there. And Cynthia—Andrea, maybe.”

“You aren’t going to let this go are you?”

“A hundred and one questions.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll never ask you for anything again if you’ll just go with me tomorrow. It’ll feel like old times.”

“For you maybe.” You walked back into the bathroom.

“Finish up in there so I can shower,” He called as you shut the door. “I wanna help you cook.”

“Just a minute.” You leaned forward against the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror. For a moment you saw your old self reflected back at you. Just hearing his name made you feel small and panicky. Knowing that he was in the same state didn’t make it any easier to breathe. You hadn’t seen him since~

Let me t-try to be better. Just give me a chance, baby, please.

You closed your eyes and tried to physically shake away the sudden memory. Was it possible for a heart to stay broken for this long?

You couldn’t see him. You didn’t want to see him. You’d put him out of your mind, escaped the hold he had on you. You’d worked so hard to rebuild yourself after he’d broken you down. You were at a place in your life where you were so sure of everything, you didn’t want to see him and lose all that progress.

You were in love with Joel and the two of you were prepared to build a life together. You didn’t want Elvis’ presence to taint that in any way.

“I wonder if Sonny and Lamar’ll be there tomorrow night,” Joel continued from outside of the bathroom. “Maybe Red and Billy too.”

“I don’t know,” You responded in the steadiest tone you could muster.

“I’m sure they’ll be there,” He continued. “You remember my cousin Jerry?”

You took slow breaths and stood upright with your hands on your hips. “I’m sure they’ll all be there, Joel.”

He laughed. “Tell me you’ll go. I don’t wanna havta drag you kicking and screaming.”

You swallowed harshly as you started putting away the makeup you had strewn across the counter. “Can we come back Sunday?”

“Yeah,” He responded, delighted with your capitulation. “We can come back whenever you want.”

You took one last deep breath and put on a decent expression before leaving the bathroom. “I don’t want to be gone too long, that’s all.”

“I’ll get you back home before you can even start to miss it.” He smiled as he watched you leave the room.

“Perfect.”

You went to figure out where he’d hidden your cigarettes. You pulled open a few kitchen drawers and shuffled through them before you found the slim, silver case. Your mind raced as you used the stove to light the cigarette before turning off the burner. You hadn’t smoked since Joel insisted that you quit weeks ago, but you couldn’t think of any other way to calm your nerves. You’d start your streak over tomorrow.

When Joel finally got out of the shower, he found you standing by the window in the living room. You were on your second cigarette and so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed him at first.

“You better put that out,” He chided, walking over. “I told you what they’ve been saying about them things.”

“Luther Terry’s fighting a losing battle,” You muttered, crushing the cigarette in the ashtray that sat on the windowsill.

“I ain’t seen you smoke a cigarette in weeks.” He stood behind you and put his arms around your waist.

“I know.”

“Something bothering you?”

“Are you still going to Virginia with Bibby?” You asked in an attempt to avoid the question.

“Yeah…” He fell silent for a moment. “It should be the last trip for a while. Once convention season’s over I’m all yours.”

You walked out of his arms. “You should wear the navy suit you wore last week. I know you lost your red tie~”

“You’re upset.” He followed you to the kitchen.

“I’m fine.” You tried to smile, forcing back all of the thoughts that were threatening to consume you. “I’ll find your tie.”

You continued taking the pots and pans down to start cooking.

“How is Bibby anyway?” You wanted to fill the silence. “The baby?”

“He’s good, the baby’s good,” Joel said. “He says Yvette’s a natural…”

You tried to listen as Joel went on about Bibby and Yvette, but you were too preoccupied–too full of dread.

After all you’d gone through, you were walking back into the belly of the beast.

*

“Don’t get me in too much trouble,” Joel said handing you your second flute of champagne. “I don’t want no misdemeanor for aiding and abetting.”

“You’re a year older than me, Joel. Don’t you think I can handle a little champagne by now?” You laughed and took the glass.

“We’ll see.” He shrugged.

“Not too much for you tonight either. You’re driving.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m barely buzzin.” He slipped his arm around your waist and kissed you with gin-stained lips. The two of you parted at the sound of Joel’s name being called over the music, turning your heads in the direction of the voice. He lit up when he saw who it was. You smiled as they embraced each other.

“How have you been?” Joel asked.

“Alright,” Jerry responded with an indolent shrug. “This her?”

“Yeah.” Joel smiled, slipping his arm around your waist and introducing you.

“Right.” Jerry repeated your name as if it rang a bell and you exchanged brief pleasentries. “Look, E.P. wants y’all to come up. He sent me to find you.”

You took another sip of your drink after Joel quickly accepted the invitation. You probably shouldn’t have been drinking, you were beyond queasy and the champagne wasn’t helping–not to mention that it tasted like battery acid. You finished the glass anyway, hoping that, if anything, it would calm your nerves.

“Come on, baby,” Joel said, taking the glass from you and abandoning it at the bar with his own. He took your hand in his and leaned in to speak in your ear. “You can still let me know if you change your mind while we’re up there.” You nodded, forcing a small smile before letting him lead you as he followed Jerry to the elevators. The music from the party faded behind the doors and all that remained was the gentle melody of the elevator music. “How long y’all been in Georgia?”

“Since yesterday. E heard about the dealership so he wanted to pass through.”

“How’d he hear about it?”

“I’m not too sure.”

Their voices faded to the background. All you heard was the sound of your heartbeat accelerating. After so long, you wondered if he’d be different. Your fear and panic was beginning to be replaced by other things that you didn’t want to acknowledge let alone describe. Because having to describe those feelings would’ve meant admitting they were there.

The elevator stopped on the top floor and you forced your feet to move. Jerry led you to the suite and opened the door without knocking. “I found them, E,” He said, walking in first.

His eyes met yours almost instantly. Those baby blue eyes that were so familiar yet so distanced from the ones you knew. He still had that youthful glow about him as he smiled and stood to greet the two of you. His gaze lingered on you briefly but no longer than a second. “Joel, ol boy.” His voice caused your breath to hitch. It was different somehow, deeper and richer, but so familiar. Like an old song who’s melody you’d forgotten but still knew all the words to. You could’ve been making it all up. It could’ve been that he was exactly as you'd left him but his beauty had already started to fade in your memory. “I’m glad y’all could make it.”

“Yeah, so are we.” Joel smiled and asked if he remembered you.

“Of course,” Elvis said, shifting his attention to you. He had an amused glint in his eyes as he smiled at you. “How have you been, honey?”

“Okay.” You tried to smile, breaking eye contact for a moment. “How have you been?”

“Okay,” He said, before turning to retake his seat, the people sitting at the table with him cleared the space. “Sit down here a minute and a tell me what you’ve been up to, Joel. I saw you weren’t with your dad anymore.”

“No, I haven’t been for a while,” Joel said, pulling out a chair for you. “We had some differences of opinion.”

“Help yourself to a drink if you want,” Elvis offered. “We can get whatever you prefer.”

“I’m okay,” Joel said. They each looked to you expectantly.

“I’m sorry?” You asked.

“D’you want a drink?” Elvis repeated.

“No, thank you.” You avoided his eyes.

He moved on with his conversation with Joel and you noticed a smirk gracing his features when you glanced his way. “What happened with your old man? I thought you two were close.”

“I thought we were. But my folks didn’t exactly approve when I told them we was getting married.”

“Married?” He seemed genuinely surprised. Joel must’ve not mentioned it before.

“I held off telling them. I knew they’d have something to say about it, but…”

“What’d they say?”

“Daddy fired me from the shop and I haven’t spoken to them since.”

Elvis grimaced. “Man, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Joel shrugged. “It’s a shame but I can’t change their minds about anything.”

“Well, congratulations anyway. You make an interesting pair.”

“Interesting how?”

Both their gazes turned to you when you spoke.

“Unexpected, I should say,” Elvis rephrased. “How’d you get caught up with Joel?“

“We ran into each other one day.” You tore your eyes away and looked at Joel.

“Why were you in Georgia?” Elvis asked.

“For a change of scenery. ” You opened your purse and retrieved your case of cigarettes—your nerves were getting the best of you. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Elvis said. “You know Dawny retired?”

“She mentioned it.” You nodded.

“She’s up in her own place now,” He said. “I check on her when I can.”

“That’s nice. I wish I could visit more,” You responded.

“I wish you could too,” He uttered, picking up a lighter from the table. “Light?”

You put the slim, white cigarette between your lips and leaned toward him as he struck the lighter. You sat back in your seat after the cigarette was lit, avoiding eye contact with both him and Joel.

“So you’re sellin cars now?” Elvis asked Joel, sliding a porcelain ashtray over to you.

“Mhm.”

“How d’you like it?”

“It’s a job.”

The conversation flowed awkwardly. It was almost as if they had to actively think of every question they were going to ask—preoccupied by other things. Eventually the three of you returned to the party happening downstairs. Elvis naturally drew the attention of everyone in the room. There was something different about him that you couldn’t pinpoint exactly. Whatever it was, you couldn’t help but steal a glance whenever he wasn’t looking. He radiated a certain energy that drew you in and made you want to watch.

“What’s wrong?” Joel asked. He hadn’t left your side since you got there and upon hearing that he was going to get your things from the car you must’ve looked panicked. He took your face in his hands and searched your eyes for the answer but you smiled and tried to distract him with a kiss. He stopped you. “Tell me.”

“Nothing.” You were a terrible liar. “I’ll help you.”

“No,” He said quickly. “It’s fine. And you don’t have to stay down here, you can go up to the room if you want. They say we’re heading out sometime tonight.”

“‘Sometime tonight’ meaning…god knows when?”

“Pretty much.”He laughed before letting you go. “Head upstairs, I’ll be there in a minute.”

You watched him leave before going to find the elevator. You couldn’t breathe.

You found the room Elvis had reserved specifically for you and Joel. You were relieved to be alone in the silence, but you felt uneasy knowing that he was downstairs and he knew where you were. The hours passed and soon it was nearly three in the morning. You were exhausted but you couldn’t sleep if you tried. Joel hadn’t come up the entire night and you wanted to be angry but tried anyway to give him time to be around old friends. He was familiar with their grueling routine—you weren’t. When he did finally return you were on the brink of sleep.

“Come on, sugar, we’re heading out.”

“God, what time is it?”

“I don’t know…it’s early.”

You pushed yourself into a sitting position and eyed him suspiciously. “You’re drunk.”

He laughed but ultimately shook his head in denial. “I’m fine.”

“You left me up here all night,” You complained as you slipped your shoes on. “I couldn’t change my clothes or anything. You could’ve checked on me once.”

“Time got away,” He said, grabbing your purse and holding his hand out for you. “They’re waiting on us.”

“Can I get myself together for a minute?”

“You’re perfect, come on.”

You took his hand and let him lead you out of the room—smoothing the skirt of your dress as he dragged you along.

You leaned your head against the window the entire drive to Memphis. Elvis had offered to fly you out but Joel insisted on driving. The two of you had planned to go straight to Virginia to meet Bibby afterwards.

You passed the time by trying to keep your doom at bay.

[marcherarrant]

"On this day, March 1st 2021, Marcher Arrant sets off for his biggest walk yet...a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail."Here we go!!! This is so surreal,  I can't believe this is happening! I'm excited and nervous! This is so much more than a walk. Every walk I do is. It is my way of life, my art, my therapy,  my source of meaning, ect. But this walk in particular is something even more. This walk is the crossing over of a threshold. It is a self created rite of passage, a new beginning. As a Walker my I embrace a philosophy of becoming, of constant movement, of no beginning or ending, constant flux. That being said, there are moments of being, moments when flowers bloom. I'm in love with shows and movies in which you see people become their destiny. It's perhaps a banal example but the first show that comes to mind is Better Call Saul. I watched that with such joy seeing him become the sleazy lawyer he was meant to become. I was destined to become this person I have always dreamt myself to be, Marcher Arrant. This walk is where I become him fully.  I made a real life flag as a symbol of that. I was born a Walker. I began walking more than those around me when I was in 6th or 7th grade. And my love for it has continually grown through the years and there have been countless thresholds I've crossed that have been pivotal in marking me for my destiny. It was around middle school or early high school that I walked from my house to downtown Columbus,  a 4 hour walk. I later walked there and back. Years later I walked the tracks from Boulder, Colorado to Denver, a twelve hour walk. I ended up doing that walk a lot. Eventually I walked to Denver and back, walking for more than 24 hours without stopping. Then I started doing aimless 24 hour walks all the time. I moved to Paris. From there I did my first long distance walk, a month-long  trip from Paris to Rocessvelles, Spain. That opened up a whole new door. I then walked the entire length of every street in Paris. And on and on and on... so many walks. In Paris,  maybe 10 years ago now, thanks to my homie Curve (@thecurvazoid, forever grateful) I began toying with graff, came up with my character and name. I later moved to Spain and did many more walks.  For most of my life my walking was something personal that I did not share with anyone. I thought it romantic, beautiful and pure that my art was just for me.  But then I had a health scare and it was then I got the urge to share what I do online. I felt I had something unique to offer the world and I did not want to die without sharing it.  I am glad I did because doing so gave my life so much more meaning.  I then got into making art and books and fell in love with that.  2 years ago I decided that before I did another big walk that I would catch my art up to my life and make books and art from all my previous walks so that when I did the next walk I could focus for the first time on making art and a book while I was doing the walk instead of going back and doing it after the fact. I finished all the art and books for my past walks. This is the first walk where everything comes together for the first time, the walk, the art, the book, the graffiti. Also over the last two years I decided to set up for myself work so that I will always have a job no matter where in the world I am so that I can walk with no pause. I began an online English teaching business. It was a long road to be able to get enough students so that I could make a living from it.  I have finally gotten to the point where I am fully booked. I begin my dream life now, a sustainable life where through art and teaching English I can walk forever and take care of myself.  My dream is to spend my life walking the world, alternating from long distance walks to living in new cities and fully exploring those, walking every street and painting and making art.  This is a dream come true, my idiosyncratic idea of the perfect life, a life I will never tire of, one that suits who I am in the most perfect way.  I am in love with the writer Nietzsche who philosophy was about making your life a work of art, living in a way that ties together all the aspects of you into a beautiful whole. The work I have done over the past few years with the walking, the graffiti, the English teaching, the art and books, the travel and how they have all tied together at this moment, with this walk, I have accomplished this goal of making my life a work of art and tying all the aspects of my life into a harmony. No matter what happens in my life now, I can die happy having accomplished this. For me, it is a sort of intangible form of art, my greatest accomplishment.  It is so hard to figure out who you are and what you want when there is no precursor to it. I am so fucking proud of myself for believing in my strange vision despite the fact that until very recently it never gave me a cent, never did anything to advance my life or do anything for me besides the meaning it gave to me. It is so hard to keep doing something that seems to everyone around you, to society, to be utterly useless. You have to be brave and trust your vision. 

The hardest part of any walk for me is getting to the starting point.  I grew up pretty poor.  When you grow up poor, at least for me, everything seems so out of reach.  You have this unconscious feeling that you would never be able to do so many things.  This is great because when you do those things your mind is just blown and you  are so amazed and in disbelief and you don’t take it for granted in the slightest.  I never in a million years thought I would be able to live in another country.  I thought that was something rich people do which is totally untrue but that is just the kind of mentality you have when you grow up poor.  When I moved to Europe it was surreal. Every single day, for the ten years I lived there, I was in total awe that I was there. I did not have a single boring day. Every single day I could not believe I lived there and that did not lessen a single minute bit the entire time I lived there.  It is the same way I feel about doing long distance walks. I was so amazed by the idea of the Appalachian Trail when I was a kid. But I thought only rich people could do it.  The fact that I am setting out to do it today is absolutely surreal. I am in total disbelief that I am doing it. I keep getting scared that somehow something is going to happen so that I can’t do it. I don’t take it for granted in the slightest that I get to do it.  It literally feels like a miracle to me. And there are so many to thank for it.  First I want to thank my mom and step dad who let me live at their house rent free while I worked on starting my online English teaching business and making barely any money.  I never could have started my business without them and saved the money I have.  I thank my grandma, my dad and step mom, my sisters, my brother and all my family who have helped me so much. Thank you so so so much to the people who have bought art, books, stickers from me over the past couple years, people who have given me donations, people who bought shirts, pins ect. I never could have done this walk without that support and I am eternally grateful and forever in your debt. I take none of that for granted. Thank you for all the kind words, messages and comments, you have no idea how much that has helped me to keep on. You have no idea. No fucking idea. I could kiss every last one of you. These past two years have been two of the hardest years of my life. For the past year I worked 7 days a week, waking up at 4:30am. For various reasons I went through some horrendous depression, so many suicidal thoughts. So many times I wanted to take the money I saved for this walk and check myself into a mental hospital. All the positive words from people really helped me to keep on. Thank you so much.  Thank you to my crew, the Abe Lincoln Brigade, Impeach, Hank, and Alamo. I’m so grateful and honored to be in a crew with such legends, people who I’ve always idolized. Thanks again to Curve (@thecurvazoid) for giving me one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever been given, the gift of getting me creating art.  And thank you to Art Primo (@artprimo ) for sponsoring this walk with art supplies. Not only does this help financially but the fact that such a legendary company believes in what I do enough to give me supplies is such an honor and so fucking encouraging. 

There are two new things that I am doing with this walk. One, is that I will be making art with the guidebook pages as I do the walk. I have already made art with maps from my walks, but I did it after I did the walk. This is the first time I will be making art as I am actually doing the walk. I am so in love with this idea. And I love that when I send the art it will be from whatever town I am in along the walk. I think that makes the envelope itself kinda a piece of art. Selling art along the way will also make it so I spend the money for my trip at a slower rate and hopefully not end totally broke like I usually do. The second new thing I will be doing is making it so people can follow my walk online. I have a gps device that also tracks me and sends that information to a website. I think that’s kinda fun and cool. It also makes it so if you want to meet up and you see I’m near you you can reach out. A lot of people have offered me a place to stay or just meet up and I am so disorganized that It makes it hard to remember all the people and where they live. Hopefully this helps to make meeting up possible. You can follow my walk at share.garmin.com/marcherarrant. Again, thank you all for everything!

[2manyfandoms2count]

Alix's rom-com night

The June event of the @mlwritersguild was to create bonus content for one of our fics - I decided to seize the opportunity to finally sit down and write one of the bonus scenes of You can count on me (I will be there for you), and to do draw a bit of fanart to go with it (4 panels, including a Marichat piece)! Let me tell you that the Burrow is a pain to draw, but I'm actually quite proud of the result :)

About YCCOM: It's an aged-up, one-sided reveal with "fake" wedding fic, based on Sallteas' art. The fic is 9 chapters and 20k words long. It was written before season 4, so it's no longer canon compliant in terms of who knows who's identities at the beginning.

Synopsis: Ladybug's identity is compromised, and somebody is after her. After a lot of pondering, she and Chat Noir come to the conclusion that her best bet is for her to marry Adrien Agreste. It breaks her heart that she is not marrying Chat Noir, but she knows that she's buying them time to figure out who is behind the anonymous letters she's been receiving, and hopefully to find Hawkmoth. Whatever the situation might be, her wedding day should provide a moment of respite. And maybe it would have, had Chat Noir refrained from coming to visit her just before the ceremony...

About Alix's rom-com night: it's a one shot that's chronologically set before the main fic, but I recommend reading it after reading the latter since it contains spoilers for it. It follows Alix (obviously), and includes Ladybug revealing her identity to Chat Noir and the set up of their "fake wedding" plan.

Hope you enjoy!

---

Alix opened her door and dropped her keys in the bowl as she kicked off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. Home, sweet home.

Her studio apartment wasn’t very big, but then again, she didn’t need a huge surface when she had a whole extension waiting for her just a transformation phrase away. She’d mentally thanked Marinette more than once for choosing her to wield the Rabbit Miraculous, rather than somebody else, just for the savings she made in rent.

She whistled happily as she made her way to her kitchen area, grabbing a bag of popcorn out of a cupboard and shoving it in her microwave.

She deserved the treat. She’d been running around all week, trying to slide letters to her targets without being spotted, spending hours on end to find the perfect stationary, and then staying up at night to get the wording exactly right, a delicate mix of subtlety and threat to elicit some sort of response from them. It had taken a lot of trial and error, especially for Ladybug. Her friend had always been surprisingly oblivious on many fronts, and it seemed that her honeymoon phase with Chat Noir reinforced her optimistic ability to brush ominous details aside. It had taken three letters for her to start freaking out and to promise Tikki she would talk to her partner about them, whereas Hawkmoth had started the analysis phase upon the first one he’d received.

Alix had only been mildly surprised by the identity of their nemesis when she’d decided it was high time she knew who they were facing; it was all too fitting that the man who leached off Paris’ most intense negative emotions should be the most embittered person she knew, and the one who, in retrospect, had been the cause of many an Akuma (she still shuddered at the what-could-have-been of Chat Noir’s akumatisation).

The microwave dinged, bringing her thoughts back to her timeline. She took the bowl out and called for her Kwami.

“Fluff, clockwise! Burrow!”

A white portal appeared in the middle of her living space and she walked through it, emerging in the ovoid room covered in screens. She made her way to the furthest point, hung her umbrella up on the coathanger she kept in there, and grabbed a folding chair. It was a director’s seat which supposedly had belonged to a rising name in the cinema world before their career had been shot down for obscure reasons, but she didn’t really care about its story; she’d bought it for a very low price at a yard sale, and that was all that mattered to her.

“Right, where are you…” She muttered, scrutinising her surroundings, until she found the screen she was looking for.

She unfolded the chair, zoomed in on the empty (for now) rooftop, propped down in her seat and threw a fistful of popcorn into her mouth, waiting for the show to start.

Unsurprisingly, Ladybug was the first to arrive on the scene. She paced around, mumbling to herself as she wrung her hands together. Alix felt a pang of guilt as she watched her rehearse how she would break the news to her partner, but reassured herself that the ordeal would soon be over.

Finally, Chat Noir landed beside Ladybug, and she flung herself at him, holding him so tight he had to untangle himself from her arms to breathe.

“Well, well, well, my Lady, I know I couldn’t make it to patrol last night, but I didn’t think you’d miss me this much,” he chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Alix rolled her eyes at just how lovestruck he looked as he did so. How could her friends be so sappy, and yet still be at square one in terms of knowing who the other was?

Some might have said that it was romantic, that they loved each other regardless of who they were; but those people did not have to deal with the constant end of the world threat.

“What was so important that you couldn’t just text me?”

Ladybug took a deep breath. Her fingers slid along his arms as she relaxed her embrace, taking his hands in hers at the end of the line. “Somebody knows my identity,” she said quietly, looking down. “And I don’t know who they are.”

“What?!” Chat’s voice detonated in the previously peaceful quiet of the evening, making a couple of pigeons take off in a loud flutter of wings.

“I’m so sorry, I must have been careless when I got home one night, they must have seen me, I bet it was last week when I was tired and I-”

“My Lady, no offence, but I don’t care about the when and why, just... are you okay?” He tilted her chin up, gently turning her head to each side, checking for any signs of injury.

She placed her hand on his, making him stop, and gave him a soft, sad smile. “Yes, Chaton. Just a little rattled; you know you were the first person I wanted to reveal my identity to. Not including Bunnyx, although technically I never told her who I am.”

“And technically, I’m still the only person who knows who you are,” Bunnyx smugly commented between two handfuls of popcorn. “Now come on, I want to see how you react when you reveal your identities to each other.”

“How do you know somebody knows, though? And do you have any idea what their intentions are?”

Ladybug’s expression darkened. “I received some letters. They’re not signed, but they’ve got enough butterflies on them to make me think that even if they’re not from the biggest pest in Paris, then they’re probably from somebody who’s up to no good.”

Chat Noir swore under his breath, then regained his countenance. “So, what do we do now? Do you think we can hunt down the bugger?”

“We definitely will, but…” Ladybug bit her lip, and Alix leaned forward in her seat. This had to be it. “Chaton, I think the time has come for me to tell you who I am.”

“YES! Finally!” Alix cheered, almost spilling her popcorn bowl.

“Are you sure, my Lady?” Alix didn’t have to be on site to tell that Chat Noir’s heart was beating faster than usual; the corners of his mouth twitched as he repressed a smile, as though his excitement could make her change her mind.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I really want you to know.” In case something happens to me, Alix was pretty sure her friend had left unsaid.

“Okay, okay.” Chat Noir took a deep breath, buzzing with anticipation, so much so that he apparently missed the whole subtext of her previous words. “Do you want to do this now? And how do you want to do it? Do you want me to close my eyes? Are you going to write it on a piece of paper for me to read? Are you going to detransform? Should-”

“I was thinking the latter, and yes, now,” Ladybug said timidly. “Up to you if you want to look or not.”

“For some reason, I feel like I shouldn’t.” He took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles without breaking their eye contact, then took another deep breath and closed his eyes, a blissful smile on his lips. “Ready when you are, my Lady.”

“Ok, here goes.” She let out a shaky breath and called off her transformation. The soft pink glow engulfed her and receded, her suit melting away to reveal her true appearance.

“Wow, Marinette, you actually broke out your favourite dress for this? Glad to see all of this isn’t affecting your ability to think straight.” Alix smirked. If her friend had gone home after a long, stressful work day, and found it in her to change and doll herself up to make a good impression on Chat Noir, things couldn’t be that bad. She had to agree that her dress, simple, white, with little red hearts embroidered on it, was perfect for the occasion, though.

“You can open your eyes now, Chaton.” Marinette gave his hands a squeeze.

Chat Noir obliged, blinking slowly as he took in her appearance, her identity, her. Marinette squirmed under his gaze, his expression not giving away any of his thoughts.

“H-Hi,” she stammered when she couldn’t take it anymore. “I, erm, I guess I should introduce myself? We’ve run into each other before, when we were younger, and even if you actually had lunch with my family that one time, I guess it’s been a while… My name is-”

“Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Chat’s smile finally broke free, spread from ear to ear, almost literally illuminating his face. Alix wondered if anything could ever wipe it off. Love and admiration twinkled in his eyes as he picked her up and started spinning her. Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling giddily, before Chat Noir closed the gap between their lips.

Bunnyx modestly looked away, allowing them to have their moment. Her eyes landed on a rerun of Plagg putting an end to the dinosaurs’ reign.

“I should have known that it was you, Princess.” Chat panted slightly as he carefully set Marinette back on the roof. “Everything makes so much more sense now, I-”

“Before you finish that thought, I can’t know your identity.” She placed her index finger on his lips. “Yet, of course.”

“What?” Chat froze, and so did Bunnyx, her hand pausing midway between the popcorn bowl and her mouth. “But why?”

“I don’t know what might happen to me, but I don’t want to put you in any danger.” Marinette cupped his cheek. “And I don’t want to lose my memories of you. Of us.”

“Oh for Kwami’s sake.” Alix rolled her eyes. “Boo!” She threw a fistful of popcorn at the screen as her friend continued to list all the reasons Chat couldn’t reveal his identity.

“My Lady, Marinette, if you’re worried about your safety, maybe we should do something about it. I could move in with you, or in a flat nearby, maybe, stay transformed or wear a mask at all times so you don’t know who I am, we can figure it out… Of course I know you can protect yourself, but I could stand guard while you sleep, or...” Chat raked his hand through his hair as he thought.

“You know I love you, Chaton, and that’s why I can’t let you do that! You can’t live like that, I can’t ask that of you. Not to mention how difficult it would be for me, do you really think I could resist having you so close, and not trying to get a glimpse of who you are?” She joked, trying to diffuse the sudden tension.

“Then we need to get you a bodyguard,” he insisted.

“I thought about it, but… Well, I can’t really afford it, and how could I justify suddenly needing personal security? I’m just a designer, and nothing I’ve ever done has been avant-garde enough that I should be worried about my safety.” She shook her head.

“Damn, I knew I should have targeted Chat Noir,” Alix swore under her breath. “He would’ve had to reveal his identity, and she definitely wouldn’t have been a pushover on her kitty’s protection matter. Come on Adrien, do something.”

She could tell that he was up to something just by looking at him. He’d been silent for a little too long for it to be natural. Cogs turned in his head, making him squint. He let go of her completely and paced around the roof, almost pulling his hair out as he did so. Alix sensed that whatever was on his mind was going to be big. She leaned forwards in anticipation.

Finally, Chat Noir came to a halt in front of Marinette, the fever in his eyes and his dishevelled hair making him look slightly unhinged.

“Buguinette, I think I’ve got a solution,” he whispered.

“You do?” Marinette’s voice was full of hope, although she looked slightly concerned about him.

“You’re probably not going to like it,” he warned her, lifting a finger.

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” She shrugged, taking a step forward.

“Right.” He gave her one last look, an opportunity to stop him before the words tumbled out. She nodded encouragingly. “Okay, here’s the thing. I have it on very good authority that Adrien Agreste is being pressured into getting married by his father.”

“I see Gabriel’s just as delightful as always,” Marinette shook her head.

“Unlike good cheese, he definitely doesn’t get better with time.” Chat smiled bitterly, eyes losing focus a little.

“What’s it got to do with us, though?” Marinette prompted, placing a hand on his arm.

“Oh, Agreste, you absolute genius, I think I know where this is going.” Alix took another handful of popcorn.

“Oh, yes, right.” He cleared his throat. “See, Adrien’s not dating anyone at the moment…” Right, Alix snorted. “And he’s not really planning on starting a relationship with his father breathing down his neck, but, well, he happens to owe me a favour, and I’m sure that he’d be more than happy to put his security detail to good use…”

“So you’re suggesting that I marry Adrien.” Marinette deadpanned.

“Well, er, I actually thought you could just date, but thinking about it… It would be less strange for you to request a bodyguard if your relationship was more serious…” He trailed off.

Alix was impressed by how well he concealed his emotions. His poker face was truly exceptional.

“And you think Adrien would be ready to marry me because of a favour he owes you?” Marinette crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips and squinting at him as she tried to pick at his lie.

Alix winced for Chat. Maybe he should have waited a bit before blurting out the (as it turned out) probably only sane option in that situation so he could work out all of the details for himself. Marinette was very good at trying to shake plans to see how solid their foundations were.

“Please. Adrien had a crush on you when you were younger, if anything I could probably smuggle it as another favour, given how perfect the fake scenario would be. Although I guess that since you also liked him… It might just cancel out.” He tapped his lip pensively.

“Adrien had a crush on me?” Marinette frowned. “Oh, you must mean Ladybug. I think Nino mentioned it once.”

“Well, yes, but he also had one on you, Marinette.” Chat stepped forward, mischief twinkling in his eyes as he poked her on the nose.

“Really, now,” she muttered to herself.

“The main reason he didn’t act on it was that he thought you loved somebody else.” Chat smiled ironically.

“Wow, what a pair of idiots.” Marinette chuckled.

“You don’t know the half of it.” He kissed her forehead.

“But you know what?” Marinette didn’t pick up on her partner’s comment. “I’m actually glad we didn’t get together. It probably would have delayed us getting together.” She pressed a peck to his lips. “If we’d gotten together at all in that timeline.” She smirked.

Alix snorted. Out of all the timelines she’d watched unfold in an attempt to keep things in check, there wasn’t a single one where Marinette and Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir, didn’t end up together, and not just because of her interventions to help them, and the rest of the planet, stay alive.

Marinette’s face fell at Chat Noir’s lack of response. Alix knew her friend didn’t particularly believe in soulmates, but she understood that she would have liked a sappy Chat Noir special comment on how he’d told her he’d grow onto her anyway, and that she would have soon discovered that the Agreste boy had nothing on him. She assumed that he was too busy restraining himself from saying the wrong thing.

“Actually… What about us, then?” Marinette cleared her throat and looked up at him, eyes glistening slightly in the half light.

“My Lady… If you really think that you being a divorcée will spur me away…” Chat Noir looked down at their entwined hands, locks of blond hair falling in front of his eyes, concealing his giddy smile from her. You sneaky cat, Alix thought.

Marinette followed his gaze, letting out a long sigh as she watched their hands sway lightly. Alix knew her brain was probably trying to find all the flaws in the plan. She crossed her fingers, hoping that it would be enough for her friend to accept. It was perfect, whether they got their act together and figured everything out before the event, or not.

“Fine,” Marinette finally said with resolve, making Alix mentally thank whoever was out there. “I’ll do it on two conditions.”

“Anything, my love.” Chat let out a sigh of relief.

“Firstly, we’re honest with Adrien from the get go. No lying about anything.” Chat nodded along. “Secondly, we get cracking on finding Hawkmoth, and after we do and the divorce is settled, if we even get that far with Adrien because obviously if everything is settled before the wedding we won’t be going through the whole plan…” Chat smiled fondly as she took a deep breath. “After all that, we are getting married.” She gestured between the both of them.

“My Lady, are you proposing to me right meow?” Chat Noir all but purred.

“I guess so.” Marinette shrugged, a smile and a blush spreading on her cheeks.

“Wow, then, I’m definitely putting Adrien in charge of the proposal planning,” he replied with a smirk.

“Chaton!” She stomped her foot, her mildly amused smile cancelling out her frown.

“What?” He teased her.

“Will you? Marry me?” She held his gaze.

“Do you even have to ask?” He chuckled. “You know, my Lady, I’m pretty sure that, in my head, we’ve been married since that speech you gave on the Eiffel Tower during our very first fight. Well, I’ve been married to you; you do whatever you please.”

“You’re such a dork,” Marinette laughed, brushing her nose against his and throwing her arms around his neck.

“And yet you still love me.” He pulled her closer.

“Unfortunately, I do,” she sighed dramatically before pressing a kiss to his lips.

Alix dismissed the screen. She’d seen what she wanted, and it seemed like a good place to stop; a happy, sappy ending. Also, she’d finished all of her popcorn.

Everything was on track, her friends would start their Hawkmoth hunt, and soon everybody in Paris would be able to live without fear of their own negative emotions.

(Of course, that was the theory; she’d soon find out that she’d underestimated Adrien’s will to organise the perfect wedding for Marinette, and that, my friends, was no small oversight.)

[daydream-believin]

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (St. Louis)

summary: (pt 1) Reader joins Douxie in the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he? - part 4) Doux and Reader get out of Missouri finally but not before one last stop      (part 5)

warnings: swearing

word count: 6205

a/n: im getting a smidge impatient on my planned mutual pining slow burn as you can see. mmm i want a piece of st louis butter cake. @blixeon​ gets credit for putting the douxie trying to keep y/n away from moppet!douxie idea in my head. its not a big plot point here but idk felt i should still mention it

Douxie stared up at the ceiling with dry, unblinking eyes. There were many interesting cracks in the ceiling, barely illuminated by the light streaming in from the bathroom door. He was wide awake, despite not being able to convince himself to move. He was never a morning person, but once he remembered where he was, it was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water on him. Y/n was no longer clinging to him when he woke up, albeit, she was not even in the bed at all when he woke up. That had gave him a fright before he realized he could hear the shower running. Somehow, this was worse than if she’d still been there when he woke up. This meant she woke, untangled herself from him, and was probably going to pretend like it didn’t happen, since she couldn’t possibly know he stayed awake long enough to know about it. Which, while waking up in her arms would have been a little awkward, at least he would have gotten a conversation out of it. An acknowledgement. Something.

Speaking of the shower, somehow that was doing a number on him too. It was so strange. They’ve lived together for years now; they’ve shared a bathroom for years now. He’s heard her shower so many fucking times. No sweat. These feelings were making him silly. Perhaps it was this fucking room. The domesticity of it all, which was a weird thing to say when you literally lived with said person. Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining that he was waking up in His Home, listening to His Wife get ready for work in the en suite of Their Bedroom. She didn’t want to wake him, how sweet. She was always worried about him getting more sleep. He’d go help her with her hair, braid it for her. His hands would run through her soft hair as he styled it. She’d kiss him on the nose before she left to go make him a cup of coffee while he got ready. She knew just how he liked it. They’d brush their teeth together, every morning, just like they did last night.

Bleeding balroths, last night. What was he going to do about last night. His dumb heart wouldn’t just be able to leave well enough alone, apparently. Does he,,, say something? Perhaps he should wait to see if she says something. That would be,, the safer route. He knew one thing for sure though. He wasn’t going to act like he didn’t love every second of it. He’d made up his mind. His life has been way too long and lonely for him to keep this ‘it’s not like I like you’ act up. And for Merlin’s sake, he had died not even three days ago. He had almost been gone, and would have never known the love of his beloved. And family wasn’t just who you have, it was also who you’re with. And he was with Y/n. She was already his family, so why not be his family? Like he dreamed of? Yes, he was going to come clean. If she said something. Yes.

Suddenly, he was aware of a noise. Someone had just knocked on the front door of the room. Or less of a knocking and more of a rapping. Archie’s ear’s flicked, but he didn’t stir. Douxie held his breath. The rapping stopped, but now whoever it was trying to open the door. Thank Merlin he warded that thing up. It couldn’t open from the outside, he made sure of it. The door handle stopped moving. Doux still made no noise. Hopefully whoever or whatever that was had decided to move on to easier prey.

Y/n combed her fingers through her wet hair. It was the best she could do at the moment. She’d try and braid it back while it was still wet, so it wouldn’t get even worse. Y/n pulled on the same clothes she’d been wearing for a week. Well, actually she had been wearing a medieval dress for most of it, but still. She looked in the mirror. Not bad for someone on the run. But they did need to make a shopping trip. As much as Y/n did not want to waste an entire other day to a store (thanks Kmart), and didn’t want to spend more of their small savings they were living off of, they did need some things. Backpacks to keep their few belongings close, one more set of clothes each so they could have something to be wearing while they wash the other set, maybe some pajama pants would be nice, although nonessential, a couple of toothbrushes that weren’t the motel provided ones, plus a tube of toothpaste, soap, a hairbrush, phone chargers, some emergency food that wouldn’t spoil, some reusable water bottles, a fucking first aid kit even, lots of stuff. It’s not like they were able to pack for this trip. Hell, they should probably get Nari an outfit that would cover up her, eh, forest spirit-ness. Her running around in leaves isn’t exactly helping their conspicuousness. Despite Y/n not wanting to add to that list, she sure was getting cold in her short-sleeved top. She needed a jacket. She’d been borrowing Douxie’s a bit for the last few days, but if she just stole it then he would be cold. She needed one of her own, she supposed.

Y/n walked out of the bathroom. Archie and Nari were still snoozing, but Doux looked like he was awake. He sat up as soon as he realized Y/n had come out. He looked, troubled. And he had every right to be, she thought. He had just suffered the loss of his mentor and died himself. He had been blankly staring at the ceiling when she’d first came into the room. He probably had so much on his mind. Thankfully he had Archie and herself. They’d be there for him, she’d make sure of it. It’d be best to give him some more time to think, though. She didn’t want to push too hard. He’d tell her if he was struggling, she was sure of it. He’d been so open lately. And they’d had plenty of talks in the past about not expressing frustrations in their lives. He hadn’t been too open with her when they first started living together and it had made being roommates stressful at first. It wasn’t a problem anymore though. They’d worked through it, and it had even brought them closer.

She told him it was his turn for the bathroom now. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then quietly nodded as he got out of bed and headed for the shower. Strangely, this inn stay has been the most normal things had been all week. It was almost like they were home. She was back in her routine of waking, getting ready, telling Douxie it was his turn to get ready. He was so sweet, he always let her have the bathroom first. So chivalrous, although, she had a sneaking suspicion it was more of his excuse to sleep in a little longer.

It was nice, living with Douxie. It was the first time she’d been on her own. Or, well, not on her own per se, since Douxie was there, but at least away from her aunt. Her aunt had practically raised her, but that didn’t mean she was too grateful for it. She felt guilty about that last part, but not too guilty. Her aunt was pretty cold. It was clear that Y/n was just a charity case to her, a beggar who wouldn’t be looked at twice if not for blood relation. She hadn’t even bothered telling Y/n about their family’s magic until Y/n had stumbled face first into it herself. And even then, she only taught Y/n a minimal number of spells, just enough to control it, so she could successfully hide it. Didn’t need some troublesome untrained wizard ruining the family name and scaring the party guests. Y/n didn’t even know that wizards were pretty much immortal at a certain point until she noticed it herself. The people she had grown up with were all out there getting their pretty adult faces, and she was stuck with a baby face. Her aunt only told her once she questioned it. She was well past being nineteen now, but was going to be stuck like this forever apparently. What a great way to live.

Of course, she was absolutely thrilled when she found out her new roommate was in the same boat as her in that department. It was serendipity. The whole thing with Douxie was perfect, really. She had heard through her friend who worked at Hextech that someone had put up a roommate ad flyer on the company’s bulletin board and she called right away. She hadn’t been having any luck apartment hunting. She couldn’t afford rent on her own with her bookstore job, and Arcadia Oaks wasn’t exactly a college town teeming with people looking for roommates. A wizard roommate would be perfect, and the price was right. So imagine her surprise when said new roommate also turned out to be her boss. Y/n hadn’t even known he was looking for a roommate, let alone that he was a fellow wizard. His old roommate, Jack, had gotten married and moved out last month, he told her. Y/n was surprised at how very easy it was getting into this agreement too, Doux already knew her so he didn’t even interview her. And she didn’t have to worry about new person awkwardness. It really was serendipity. Of course, it hadn’t been all rosy, as mentioned before, but they were really groovin’ together now.

Y/n stretched out on the bed. She could hear the water running through the wall. It had been so awesome living right above her job. She got to sleep in, and she’d get ready, eat some breakfast, and be able to instantly step into the bookstore. She’d never be late ever again. Or she never was late again. That was a depressing thought. But hey, bright side, now they could have all the fun of starting up a new bookstore. Perhaps she could convince Douxie to add on a tea shop this time too. One that had cute little round tables with pretty gingham table cloths and flower vases, filled with flowers that they grew themselves in the pots on their balcony. They’d make sure the new bookstore had a nice window that was meant for a display but they’d leave as a place for Archie to sleep in and make snarky comments as he watched the people go by. Douxie could paint the letters on the signs and window, he was great at that. It’d be a task, but truly, they had to remake their bookstore. Even if not in Arcadia. A new bookstore they could fill up with love, that’d be an idea Y/n could hold on to.

Stars, she loved their bookstore. She loved the smell. She loved the peaceful homey vibe. She loved the man who owned it. Whoops, forget about that last part. She even loved the quirky characters it drew in. One time, she encountered this really crazy lady, and she wasn’t even sure if this lady was real or if she dreamt her, since she was the only witness. But Mordrax’s miracles, was this lady something. It started normally enough, Y/n picking up the store’s landline.

“GDT Arcane Bookstore! Please state your grievances.” She knew in the back of her mind that she was the only person who found her dumb jokes funny, but she still made them to brighten up her own day. Also to piss off Hisirdoux with her unprofessionalism. He made the same passive-aggressive ‘I’m disappointed in you’ face every time. It was fun.

“Yes, Hello. I would like to know if you carry any children’s books.”

“Yes ma’am, we sure do. A whole section.”

“Great. And are you child friendly?”

“Are we-, child friendly? I-, Yes I suppose we are ma’am.”

“Perfect. And you’re open until eight?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Thank you, young lady.”

The whole phone call was odd. Y/n wasn’t too jazzed about being called ‘young lady’ either. She had mocked the lady as soon as the phone call ended, but she shrugged it off, and had forgotten that the whole thing had even happened as she went about her day. Then, at about seven, this lady rolls up. She was dressed to the nines but like, in an old rich person way. Long fur coat, black dress underneath with pearls around her neck. On one arm, she had a fancy purse covered in the logo of a fashion brand Y/n wasn’t going to admit she recognized. In the other, she carried a large porcelain doll, the size of a five-year-old, which was dressed in a frilly pink dress that remined her of the dresses her aunt used to make her wear. When Y/n greeted her, she recognized the voice as the strange caller from earlier. Y/n got the feeling that some sort of shit was about to go down, and couldn’t wait. If only Archie was here.

Fur coat lady sat her doll down on the old loveseat in the sitting area and asked Y/n to keep an eye on the doll while she went to go pick out some books. Emily could be so mischievous sometimes, she told Y/n. She assured fur coat lady that she’d watch Emily like a hawk. The doll’s painted eyes stared into Y/n’s soul. Fur coat lady came back far longer than Y/n was comfortable with. She asked Y/n if Emily had been a good-mannered girl. Y/n just nodded, not sure if she should be encouraging this, on second thought. Fur coat lady then preceded to read the doll nine children’s books in a row, pausing in between only to ask the doll if she had liked it. Y/n was too baffled to even tell this lady to scram, we aren’t a library, you know. It crept closer to eight, and Y/n was actually dreading what was going to happen when she’d have to kick this lady out, but thank the stars, fur coat lady starts telling her doll about how it was close to its bedtime so they couldn’t read any more stories, aww darn, and they had to go now. She thanked Y/n as she walked out of the door. Y/n flipped that closed sign behind her and quickly retreated upstairs for the night. She’d go make a cup of tea to relax her nerves after that encounter. Y/n had plenty of other wild stories of people who’ve stopped by their bookstore. It was great for conversation at parties.

Y/n loved parties. With Douxie came all his friends, and she didn’t mind that one bit. They were always over whenever Doux had time off. It was so nice; it kept their place lively. Y/n cooked and baked a lot, it was one of those skills her aunt insist she have, and having so many mouths to enjoy her food felt good. And whether it was band practice or game night, she was happy to play hostess. Douxie’s friends were fun to talk to. She suddenly had the freedom to invite her own friends over too. Having so many people around all the time had helped her loneliness big time when she first moved in. Her aunt’s house may have been big, but it was empty. Her aunt threw a fancy party a month, but none of the people there were people worth talking to. It was so cold. Their apartment was warm.

Honestly, as insane as it was to think about, Y/n couldn’t see herself ever leaving Douxie to live on her own anymore. At first, this arrangement was supposed to be a temporary thing until she could find a better job and go off on her own. But somehow along the way, ‘the apartment we share’ became Their Apartment, and the bookstore that she happened to operate with him became Their Bookstore. It was nuts, and also the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to Y/n. It was the home she’d never had. Douxie and Archie were her family. Way more so than her aunt ever was. It was beautiful, magical, marvelous. She no longer worked, she just lived. Hell, she couldn’t even remember the last time Doux had formally assigned her a shift. She was just kind of always there. Which she was glad to do. She loved it. And when it was time to stop working, she’d just head upstairs and get to spend even more time with her favourite person. That is, if he wasn’t on one of his bistro shifts. She felt so safe and cared for. She no longer felt alone.

If Douxie wanted to make that, how you say, a little more official, Y/n wouldn’t be opposed to that. She had a hunch that he had some sort of feelings for her, if his recent actions were anything to go by. Although, just like she didn’t want to push him about the angst feelings, she didn’t want to push him in these feelings either. He’d tell her when he was good and ready. Slow and steady wins the race after all. Besides, if she was wrong and he didn’t have feelings for her, she’d definitely be tossing this good thing they had going out the window directly into the dumpster. She had to admit though, waking up this morning cuddled into him was the loveliest way she’d ever woken up in her life. She could get used to that.

She wondered if Douxie would be a wedding person or an elopement person. Not that she expected him to marry her. But it would be nice. She rolled over and found her phone on the nightstand. There wasn’t any harm in looking at some wedding dresses, right? Just in case. Y/n listened to Nari yawn and shuffle over to the bed. She opened an arm for the forest child who snuggled in, curious at what Y/n was looking at. Y/n tilted the phone for her to see. Nari really liked the poufy dresses. She’d point excitedly to the one’s she thought were pretty while Y/n scrolled. While Y/n wasn’t a fan of big frilly stuff herself, she had to admit, those poufy dresses would make her feel like Cinderella, which was never something she’d have thought appealing, but somehow it was. There were some really gorgeous not poufy ones also, and even a cool black one. Some that Douxie might like too. Y/n leaned more towards those, but wasn’t gonna tell Nari that. The veggie lady sure was having as much fun as her right now, surprisingly. Hopefully she wouldn’t blab any of this to Hisirdoux though.

Speak of the devil, he came out of the bathroom and sat on the end of the bed. Y/n quickly closed the app she was scrolling through. She sat up, taking Nari with her. Archie yawned and stretched, after sensing movement in the room. He moved from the chair into Douxie’s lap. After giving Arch a good scratch behind the ears, Douxie turned to Y/n.

“So, what’s today’s itinerary?”

“I-, wait, why do I have to be the one who decides what we do?”

“Because you’re the one who likes to have a plan when it comes to these things.”

“Fair enough.” Y/n pulled up google maps. If she had known she would have to do this she would have done it while he got dressed instead of fantasizing about their wedding. “Okay, so as much as I hate to say this, but we gotta go back to the store today.”

Douxie groaned as he laid back. His still wet hair was gonna dry funky like this, but he didn’t care. “Fine. We’ll do that in Illinois. We gotta get out of this town before anything else.”

“I agree,” she paused, seeing something that caught her eye. It would be frivolous, but she couldn’t help herself from asking “Ooh! Can we stop in St. Louis?”

“St. Louis?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun, Douxie. We can go sit in those cafés that people go to in the black and white movies, we can go take a cheesy tourist picture of us by the arch thing, and I’m really craving some St. Louis butter cake now.”

Doux laughed. “Okay, but only for a few hours, Love.” The least he could do was let her have a little down time to relax and have fun after this hell week. Highly populated cities were good for throwing off their scent too.

“Thank you,” she went back to her map, snickering, “And we’ll stop in Effingham to shop.” She snorted.

“Effingham?” Douxie said it correctly, in his proper accent, which was not as amusing.

“Effing. Ham. Baby.” He rolled his eyes.

They booked it out of that motel and out of that town. Douxie all but tossed the room key into the creepy innkeeper’s hands as they rushed out. Back on the boat, safe at last. He ran a mental headcount once they boarded. Y/n always held Nari’s hand when they went places, so they wouldn’t have to worry about her wandering off, but it still made Douxie feel better to go over his tiny mental list and make sure they were both still safe and with him. Archie, he didn’t have to worry about as much. Even if the cat-dragon wandered he’d always come back. He could track Douxie by scent for a hundred miles too. Y/n had a habit of getting lost, though. He had to keep an eye on her. He didn’t need her and Nari off in fairyland where the Order could find and abduct them at any given time.

Douxie’s hair had still been damp when they set off, but the wind took care of that for him. Sure, wind-tousled bangs were in, but not bangs tousled by real wind. He was sure he was rocking it though. He could pass it off as something he did on purpose. People already thought his relatively tame style was outlandish, they’d just think the messy hair was part of the look. His only qualm was Y/n. He didn’t want to embarrass himself to her any further. His Camelot self already inflicted so much damage in that department this week. That moppet with a man bun had messed up spells, quoted sappy poetry to her, bragged about being Merlin’s apprentice, and even tried serenading her with his lute in attempts to impress her. It was mortifying. He had spent the first part of their Camelot adventure distracted by having to keep Y/n away from his younger self. It was not good for the whole ‘save time’ mission. Thankfully, he had Claire there with him, who had agreed to help him once she had buggered the information out of him. Thank Merlin for nosy teen girls. Claire was a godsend.

He had to admit, he was a smidge disappointed that she didn’t bring up the cuddling. Y/n hadn’t even made a joking reference to it in passing. He would have to bring it up then. But when, how? It wasn’t exactly something that would come up in natural conversation.

He watched her, hanging over the ship’s railing again. They passed a field with some cows and she made sure to point at them and say cows. He smiled at that; Y/n always managed to make him smile. He could recall how bad he had felt when Jack left and he thought he was going to have to fire her, his only employee, to keep up with rent. He had asked Zoe if he could put up a flyer in Hextech in a desperate attempt to find someone before that had to happen. And low and behold, among the three answers he got to the ad was miss L/n herself. It was an easy decision really, and it took away the uncertainty since he knew she was someone that he already liked. As a bonus, Y/n didn’t have a familiar of her own that might fight with Archie, because let’s be real, as much as Douxie loved Archie, the dragon-cat wasn’t afraid of stepping on toes. Although, it did feel kind of strange to give Y/n her paycheck and then for her to hand a little more than half of it back to him on rent day. But it just worked.

He remembered the first time he walked by the fridge to see that not only had Y/n added some fridge magnets to the kitchen, but she had taken the time to write a message to him. It, um, was sort of a rude note, meant to tease, an inside joke. Which he thought was funny, he just wished Zoe hadn’t seen it. It was hard to explain, and Zoe never let him hear the end of it. Archie got a kick out of it too. Y/n would switch the message almost daily, and it never failed to make him smile. He still had to deal with his friends seeing them and teasing him about it, but he’d never change her magnet jokes for anything. They would stay there until she replaced them with equally embarrassing messages meant just for him. It felt sweet to know someone was thinking about him enough to come up words meant to make him laugh on a daily basis.

They had just passed by a town called Eureka, which meant they were coming up on St. Louis. Good. Douxie couldn’t wait for lunch. He had the appetite of a winning fat bear these past few days. Probably the stress. That butter cake Y/n had mentioned was sounding so tasty. He could almost smell it. What Douxie hadn’t considered when he agreed to this was that the magic flying ship couldn’t go through metropolitan areas. Well, it could, but it’d be seen. So despite his growling stomach, he wound up taking the ship around the entire concrete jungle of Missouri, staying in the forested areas. He figured he could park the boat over in Illinois, just outside of St. Louis. This added a whole other hour to the trip than he was expecting, but now at least he knew to take large cities into consideration when choosing routes.

After hiding the boat in a heavily wooded area, the four took the bus into downtown. So when Y/n said she wanted to go to an old café from a movie, she had meant a very specific old café from a specific movie. She had told him it wasn’t a big deal and there were plenty of other cafes, but Douxie was gonna get her there by golly. And he did. The happiness written on her face was worth the extra bus miles. And wow, this café had some delicious food. They had salmon, which Archie enjoyed a little more than usual. Said something about paying himself back. As if he paid for anything, being a cat. That St. Louis butter cake did not disappoint. Archie was pretty fond of the cake too. It was too sweet for Nari, though. Y/n savored every bite. Doux watched her, while he ate his own, and it was so cute how smiley this was making her. He’d learn the recipe for this cake so he could make it for her once they got… home.

Douxie was still trying to shake off that depressing thought when Y/n finished up and was already trying to get the move on. Not without getting a picture first, of course. Not satisfied with just the scenery of the café itself, she begged Douxie to pose for her in various spots around it. He obliged, despite his scruffy appearance. She didn’t think he was that scruffy, and what was better than pictures of her favourite person in a cool place she’d always wanted to go. She also snapped one of Archie to post to her cat insta she secretly kept of him. Douxie knew about it, and contributed pictures to it himself, but neither of them were about to tell Archie he was internet famous as archie_the_emo_kitty. These pictures were going to hold good memories in them. All pictures do.

There was one more photo Y/n wanted to get. Silly cliché tourist picture with the gateway arch in the background. She wanted at least one of just her and Douxie, after the group photo. She’d have to somehow get one of Archie too, since she wasn’t about to pass up the chance to make a pun in the caption about Archie being in front of the arch. As she pulled Douxie close to get the picture, she got an idea. She asked him if they could get just one more. He was holding the phone since his arms were longer so he was able to get better angles with them both in it. He agreed, happy to do anything to keep that grin on her face longer. This time, when he leaned down to make their faces closer together, Y/n gave him a kiss on the cheek. The shutter snapped. Look, she wasn’t going to push, but she could nudge. Y/n pulled away and grabbed the phone to look at how it turned out, so cute, and Douxie just stayed there, leaning over, still as a statue, with wide eyes.

“Did you just- k-kiss me?” He didn’t so ecstatic. Maybe she was reading him wrong after all. Okay, time to deny.

“Yeah, it was just a cheek kiss, Doux. It was a cute pose for our picture, see,” She showed him the picture. A perfectly captured moment where they looked so happy. Where her lips would forever be on his still burning face. “Friends do it all the time.”

“Oh. Ah, okay.” That sounded disappointed, and his face wasn’t the picture of joy before, but now he just looked crestfallen. Okay so she wasn’t reading him wrong before. Good to know. She’d,, have to fix this now. She casually grabbed his hand and laced their fingers. That got him looking back up from the ground.

“C’mon, we’ve got about ten minutes to catch the next bus.”

~ ~ ~

Effingham was a quaint place. Y/n had only chosen it for it’s funny name, but it was surprisingly pretty okay. It was home to the world’s largest cross. Which would be cool, for it’s target audience, Y/n supposed. And they had a train depot. Fun. And exactly one singular popular restaurant. Which wasn’t that much more than Arcadia had, Y/n had to give it to them. They were in this tiny little mall, to see about finding some spare clothes. Y/n stopped dead in her tracks to gawk at a store that’s sign identified itself as Rural King. She tugged Douxie’s hand.

“Oh we gotta go in there.”

Douxie took one look at it and shook his head, “Are you really going to drag us into a hunting store just because it has a silly name?”

“No, I guess not,” Y/n took one last look at the place, “Can I at least get a pic of you posing in front of it?”

“Fine.” Douxie suppressed a grin as he complied with her silly request.

Once they got into a real store though, Douxie leaned over to Y/n to tell her something without the clerk hearing. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ve got an appearance modifier spell I’ve perfected over the years. We’re not actually here to buy anything, just get some inspiration.”

Y/n nodded, fascinated. Well, that’ll take care of the extra spending problems. Now came the fun part, finding a new look for Nari. Speaking of whom, she was over at a rack, trying on those fake fashion glasses without real lenses in them. She looked really cute in every pair she tried on, and they helped obscure her face. Good. She really took a liking to this square tortoiseshell pair. Y/n took a mental note. It was going to be getting cold soon, and plants tend to freeze in the cold, so they took the veggie lady over to go check out the winter coats. Nari picked out a puffer that looked pretty comfy, but she didn’t like that it was red. It reminded her of Bellroc. Douxie assured her that the one he’d make could be any color she liked. Not surprisingly, she wanted it to be green.

Y/n just decided on a simple outfit for herself, consisting of a black and white striped long-sleeved tee, a black short sleeve tee to layer over that, and a classic pair of jeans. It was easy, comfortable, and didn’t draw much attention. A band kid staple too. Nari wanted to be similar to Y/n and also decided on a striped tee and jeans to go under her coat. Now they just needed to find her something to contain that gorgeous head of grass. Y/n glanced over to see Douxie trying on a cap in the hat section. Perfect. They’d make her a hat. It’d be a big hat, but nothing too much.

Douxie actually did buy a couple of backpacks from the shop. Y/n was a bit confused but he told her how for some reason he couldn’t enchant something that was technically an illusion itself so he had to buy physical bags since he wanted to enchant them to be infinite vessels or something. Y/n nodded. This was interesting. She was pretty good at the magic she did know but it was mostly by instinct. No one had really taught her the technical side of it like this. She never really knew how stuff worked, just that it worked. They headed to the dollar store after finishing up with the clothing, which surprisingly, this little mall had in it for some reason. They quickly found all those necessity items they needed and got out of there fast. They were burning daylight after all.

Once back at the boat, greeted by Archie who was glad they came back within a decent time this go around, Douxie got to work. First, he enchanted those backpacks. Y/n watched his every move, fascinated, and taking mental notes. He stuffed the supplies into the bags, making sure each had emergency food and medicine just in case they’d ever get separated. The first aid kits were a great idea, considering he didn’t know much healing magic himself and Y/n could only do a temporary pain relief spell. Having stuff to bandage up wounds in their bags made Douxie feel slightly better.

Y/n filled Douxie in on the specifics of Nari chosen disguise, and he set to work on that. It came out pretty cute. Nari liked her new duds, taking her time to look over herself. Y/n handed the veggie lady her phone with the front facing camera on so Nari could use it as a mirror. She really liked that. Y/n snickered at Nari trying out different angles.

He moved onto Y/n. He didn’t magically fairy godmother her like he did the forest child, he just made her a spare set of clothes to go in that backpack. He made them according to her request, but paused at the tee shirt. “Do you want me to put a logo or something on this?”

Y/n twirled her hair around her finger. “Hmm. I’m thinking, Ash Dispersal Pattern. They’re my favourite band, ever heard of them?”

Douxie laughed as conjured up the tee. He picked one of his favourite designs from past merch. It could be considered vintage now, but it wasn’t that long ago to Doux. He fancied the idea of getting to see her in his merch a lot more now. She did have one of their tee shirts back in the bookstore, but she didn’t wear it often as it was in rotation with other band’s tees. He didn’t have competition anymore, it seems. He grinned as finished up.

“Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. Now that I know you can just magic up clothes for yourself, I would like your hoodie.”

“I can make you a hoodie like thi-“

“No, no, I want the one you’re wearing, thank you. It’s warm and familiar and it smells like you.” She said half-joking, half-serious. “It would make me feel safer.”

Douxie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In fact some part of him thought he may have just daydreamed that. He wordlessly forked over the hoodie. She took it merrily and put it on, giving it a sniff for good measure. Now he really was daydreaming.

“Thank you, Dewdrop!” Oh, he had a pet name now. He’d hadn’t heard that one yet. Frisky people had called him all sorts of strange and embarrassing things over the centuries. But this one was a first. He guessed it was a play on his name. Dewdrop, ay? That was so soft and sweet. A shiny little dewdrop, the first thing you see in the morning. Ah. It seems that miss L/n was plotting to kill him. She was succeeding.

[allsassnoclass]

would pretty please do 72 or 98 from the 100 ways to say I love you prompt list? maybe with the mashton college au? or just mashton in general! (I love your mashton so much) - lily 💛

lily you have been the #1 cheerleader of this series from the beginning you can have as much college mashton as you want

Word count: 4059

Rating: T for teen

Read on ao3 here

mashton: "I'll meet you halfway"

Michael and Ashton call each other every night.

It’s the type of thing Michael has seen his parents do when his dad used to have to travel for work conferences. Sometimes the calls are long, extensive conversations, and sometimes they only last a few minutes, a simple “hello, I love you, I want to hear your voice before I fall asleep.” It’s the type of domestic, mushy stuff that you do with someone you’re spending the rest of your life with. Michael loves it.

He would love it even more if he could actually see Ashton in person.

Ashton stayed over once in June, but since then their schedules haven’t aligned properly. Ashton works weekdays 9-5, and Michael typically works nights and weekends. With Anne Marie taking on longer shifts, leaving Ashton in charge of keeping house more often, there hasn’t been a lot of time to try and plan a day trip.

When classes start next week, it’s just going to get worse. Michael has been holed up in his apartment with very little contact with the outside world for three months. He goes to work. He comes home. Sometimes he orders take-out and gets to nod at the person handing it to him. He’s sick of his college town, and somehow he doesn’t think that having everyone else on campus is going to help. COVID policy is very similar to how it was in the spring, and Michael hated the spring.

“This fucking sucks,” he says. “It’s my senior year and all I want to do is leave.”

“So why don’t you?” Ashton asks, tinny and pixelated on Michael’s phone. “You have tomorrow and Sunday off, right?”

“Yeah.” He asked for it off at the beginning of the summer, in case he needed time to mentally prepare for the school year.

“Let’s go somewhere. Pick a city between us and I’ll meet you halfway. I’ve been saving a fuckton on rent, you’ve been saving all summer, we can get a hotel and make a time of it.”

“Really?” Michael asks.

“Yeah. Why not?”

Michael pauses. He’s never been the type of person to plan spontaneous outings, but he doesn’t really have an argument against this one. He wants to see Ashton. He wants to get out of the apartment. A two-day date in a different city sounds like the perfect solution.

“Come on,” Ashton says. “Pick the city. I’ll plan everything else.”

“Okay.”

Ashton grins. Michael automatically mirrors it. Later that night Michael gets out his computer to find the best location between them. There’s a decently large city that’s an obvious choice, and Michael doesn’t have the focus to do any more research on whether this one or one of the smaller ones has better attractions. He figures the larger it is, the more he’ll give Ashton to work with as he plans, so that’s the name he texts. Ashton texts him at midnight with an address and instructions to meet him there at 10:00. Michael mourns the loss of one of his last opportunities to sleep in, but he’d wake up before dawn to see Ashton if he had to.

-/-

Ashton is waiting outside the coffee shop when Michael pulls up. He’s leaning against the side of the building, head tilted up towards the sun and eyes closed, and Michael’s heart clenches violently in his chest. He’s beautiful. Michael has missed him so much over the past few months that he’s torn between wanting to drink in the sight of him and needing to touch him right now.

Ashton opens his eyes as Michael approaches, like he can somehow distinguish his footsteps from those of everyone else passing by. Michael knows that it’s impossible, but part of him wants to believe that he and Ashton have that sort of connection.

Ashton smiles, letting it bloom across his face like a flower in spring. Michael can barely stop himself from running the last few steps to hug him. They end up crashing together in the middle of the sidewalk either way, arms immediately clutching tightly. Michael has the single-minded goal to squeeze all of the oxygen out of Ashton’s lungs.

“Hi,” Ashton says in Michael’s ear, arms wrapped around his shoulders, pressing them together the entire length of their bodies. “Hi, I love you. Holy shit, I’ve missed you so much.”

He tries to pull away and Michael tightens his grip.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks. “I’ve been hug-deprived for months.”

Ashton snorts and resettles.

“I really fucking love you,” he sighs.

Michael smiles into his neck and soaks in the feeling.

An undetermined time later (that is probably longer than socially acceptable), Michael finally leans back enough to plant one firm kiss on Ashton’s lips, then breaks the hug fully. Ashton’s grin is wide and dopey, and he knows that his is the same and they probably look insane to everyone else, but Michael doesn’t care. Long distance sucks. Being here with Ashton is the best he’s felt in a long time.

“Hi,” Ashton repeats.

“Hi,” Michael replies. “You look like shit.”

Ashton beams, because Michael confessed to him a while ago that he only says that when he’s too overwhelmed to think of a worthy compliment, because Ashton’s ability to always look flawless is infuriating. Sometimes Michael regrets telling him, because it’s embarrassing and Ashton doesn’t need an ego, but then Ashton reacts like this and it makes Michael want to shout endless compliments from the rooftops to get a hint of that smile.

Ashton ducks forward and kisses him again. Michael has to restrain himself from getting lost in it, because they’re in public. They’re sharing a hotel room tonight, so Michael can refill on kisses then.

“Come on,” Ashton says. “Let’s go inside. I want an iced coffee.” He pulls a mask out of his pocket and Michael follows suit, then they head into the little cafe.

The intoxicating smell of coffee is potent enough to seep through Michael’s mask. The shop itself is small and cozy, with a black and white tiled floor and dark wooden tables with little kitschy coffee decorations scattered around. There are three big plush armchairs by a fireplace that could be decorative or could actually be functional, and a few children’s books are scattered on the side tables near them. Ashton tugs him towards the counter before he can look around more, greeting the barista with a friendly hello and his order. Michael adds his and a pastry, then they make quiet comments about the flavor shots available and various menu items until their orders are ready.

“So,” Ashton says when they’ve sat down and spent a bit too long smiling at each other rather than talking.

“So,” Michael repeats, taking a sip of his coffee. Ashton holds his hand out on the table, palm up, and Michael takes it so Ashton can fiddle with the promise ring on his finger. “What’s the plan for the day?”

“Well, we can’t check in to the hotel until 4, so I figured after this we could wander around downtown a bit, grab some lunch, then go to the zoo.”

“The zoo?” Michael asks. “What are we, five?”

“I’ll hold your hand the whole time and buy you Dippin’ Dots,” Ashton bribes in a singsong voice. Michael is such a sucker for him.

“That’s a very tempting offer,” Michael says, resting his chin in his palm. Ashton smiles, because he knows that Michael is a sucker for him, especially when they’re holding hands and he has Dippin’ Dots.

Ashton brings his hand to his lips and kisses it. Michael feels like he’s going to melt into a puddle of goo right there in the coffee shop. It’s like a few weeks away have reset them to an insufferable honeymoon phase rather than letting them operate like normal people out in society.

They manage to finish their coffees without making everyone around them nauseated, then walk around wasting time until they find an acceptable lunch place. Ashton points out weird-looking stores and boutiques as they go, and sometimes they enter and look around but mostly they window shop. Michael feels something inside him resettle a little every time Ashton laughs or hits his arm to point something out.

Lunch passes in much the same way as coffee did. They talk about whatever strikes their fancy and eat food that’s good but not great and hold hands across the table. Michael covers lunch because Ashton covered coffee and promised to buy him Dippin’ Dots, so it should all even out.

They can’t leave a car in the coffee shop lot for hours on end, so they have to drive separately to the zoo. It’s tragic, because one of Michael’s favorite things to do is to drive with Ashton, whether he’s in the driver’s seat or the passenger, but he follows behind him instead, always keeping his license plate in sight. They don’t get parking spaces by each other, since it’s one of the last summer weekends and the place is crowded with minivans carrying families for one last big outing before school starts, but Ashton waits for him by the main gate and obediently takes his hand the moment they enter.

“Do you want a map?” Ashton asks, side-stepping a toddler that’s paused in the middle of the walkway to stare at some of the strangers passing by.

“Nah,” Michael says. “Let’s just wander. We have a few hours.”

Ashton smiles and tugs him along the path, picking a direction and setting off until they get to the first exhibit. They stand in line an acceptable amount for some moose, then zip through the rest of the North American section relatively quickly. Ashton names every animal they pass, on occasion reading a line here or there from the signs describing them without slowing down for the whole thing. Michael judges his naming abilities and chimes in with a few of his own ideas, then they continue on and let younger kids have their turn by the fences or glass cases.

"I think we should get one of those once we move in together," Michael says, gesturing at the lion sunning herself on top of a rock outcropping.

"You want a cat?" Ashton asks. "I thought we were leaning towards a dog. I've been trying to warm up to the idea of a dog."

"I don’t want a cat, I want Sheila," Michael says. "Look at her. So majestic. So cuddly."

The lion now known as Sheila flicks her tail, but otherwise doesn't move.

"Sure, I'll kidnap her once we have a place. She'll be very happy with us."

Michael squeezes his hand, and they move past the rest of the big cats and into the aquatic building, where Ashton takes a picture of the penguins and sends it to Luke with the caption "nice to see u and ur fam out and about!!!" Michael finds the seahorses and stares at them for a bit, Ashton reading the information cards out loud when he starts to get antsy. They both decide that there are too many fish to name each one, so each tank instead gets a name and subsequent fish get numbers. When they can't waste any more time there, they head back out into the August heat, wandering further into the zoo.

Ashton gets Michael his promised Dippin' Dots between the African and Australian sections. They take a short break to sit for a few moments at one of the few clean tables, watching geese harass families in the hopes of earning a few crumbs and kids bouncing around waiting for their parents to finish.

"Food tax," Ashton says, opening his mouth. Michael rolls his eyes and takes a small spoonful of chocolate-flavored ice cream, feeding it to him across the table.

"Thanks," he says. "Instagram tax."

Michael holds up the Dippin' Dots and beams for the camera, sure that Ashton already has some good and awful secret shots he took that will end up in the photo dump whenever he decides to post.

"Come on," Michael says. "Let's go see some kangaroos."

By the time they finish their rounds of the zoo, it's well past time for them to check in at the hotel. Ashton still insists on stopping at the gift shop to look at the stuffed animals. Michael waits by the door and isn't paying attention enough to stop Ashton from bringing a lion up to the register.

"A tiny Shelia to hold you over until we can get the real thing," he says, presenting the stuffed animal to Michael with a flourish.

"Holy shit, I love you," Michael says, cuddling mini-Sheila close. "You're the best boyfriend ever." Ashton simply grins and kisses him on the cheek.

"So," he says once they're past the zoo gates, hand linked with Michael's once again and walking him to his car. "Do you want to go to the hotel or straight to dinner?"

"The hotel first," Michael says.

Ashton nods and kisses him again with a quick "see you soon."

The ride to the hotel feels like it takes simultaneously five seconds and five years. Michael is getting antsy at the idea of them getting a room to themselves for a while. He's gone multiple hours without sticking his tongue down Ashton's throat, which is a huge show of restraint when they've been apart this long, but he's so ready to do that now. He can't wait to finally fall asleep next to him again or watch shitty network TV while cuddling after dinner.

The hotel itself is a little fancier than Michael expected, if the state of the lobby is anything to go by. He goes up to the counter with Ashton while he checks in, listening when Ashton asks about good restaurants nearby and taking a key when offered. When they finally get to their room, Michael is vibrating out of his skin, but he manages to restrain himself until Ashton has set down his bag and gotten a chance to look around the room.

"Think this'll be fine for the night?" he asks, sitting on the bed to test the mattress.

"I want to kiss you so bad," Michael replies.

"Then what the fuck are you doing over there?" Michael rolls his eyes, drops his bag and mini-Sheila, plops himself right in Ashton's lap, and kisses him. Ashton immediately opens up under him, hands sliding up Michael's back, and something inside Michael slides back into place. He buries his hands in Ashton's hair and tilts them to a better angle, relishing in the familiarity of Ashton's mouth, unable to contain a sound when Ashton tries to pull him a little bit closer.

Ashton breaks the kiss long before Michael is ready.

"We need to go to dinner," Ashton says. "I wanted to woo you. Wine and dine, except maybe without the wine because one of us has to drive."

"Come on, Ash, just a bit more." He leans in again, but Ashton stops him with a finger against his lips.

"If we keep going, we're not going to stop, and I'm hungry. Dinner first, then we'll have the whole night to ourselves."

"Fine," Michael sighs. "But only because I expect to make use of the night."

"I'm counting on it," Ashton says.

“And I’m driving.”

“Okay.”

Michael gets up, checking for his keys and wallet, but doesn’t get the door open before Ashton is turning him around and pushing him gently against it, kissing him again.

“You hypocrite,” Michael says.

“Come on, Michael, just a bit more,” he teases. Michael rolls his eyes even as he’s pulling him closer.

-/-

Dinner passes by in a flash. They tell the waitress it's Ashton's birthday so they can get a free dessert, and Michael ensures that she gives the check straight to him so Ashton doesn't try to fully pay for yet another thing on this trip. The food is pretty good and the atmosphere is nice, and Michael spends most of the meal laughing and trying to remember his table manners.

Ashton sings along to the radio on the way back to the hotel, and Michael considers taking a lap around the block to hear his singing voice a bit more. In the end, he turns into the parking lot so he can watch him rather than just hear him, waiting until the chorus finishes and Ashton manages to do a really nice vocal run before shutting the car off.

"What?" Ashton asks when he catches Michael's eye.

"Nothing," Michael says. "I just love you."

"Sap," Ashton says, poking the corner of Michael's smile.

When they get back to their room, Ashton starfishes on the bed, letting out a deep breath. Michael flops down on his stomach, head pillowed on Ashton's arm, fitting the rest of himself where there's room.

"Hey," Ashton says, tilting his head to look at Michael. "You tired?"

"Nah, not yet," Michael says. "I'm a night owl."

"Yeah, and I made you get up at a reasonable time to drive here for coffee."

Michael props himself up on his elbows, looking down at Ashton. His hair is a little bit longer than Michael remembers it being at the end of the school year, honey strands fanned out against the white hotel comforter. Michael hates that he wasn't around to witness the change in real time, slow enough that he wouldn't have been able to notice, but he's glad they get some time together now.

"I'm not tired," he says, basking in the way Ashton's smile unfurls at that. "I could stay up all night. I'm not going to waste our time together with a nap."

Ashton reaches up and brushes some of Michael's hair back, fingers curling around his ear and brushing over his neck. Michael shivers.

"I've missed you," Ashton says softly. Michael moves so he's bracketing him with his arms and leans down to kiss him. It's just as familiar and intoxicating as last time.

"I've missed you, too," he hums when they part. "Thank you for planning this."

"Thanks for agreeing to it," Ashton says, slipping a hand under the hem of Michael's shirt, hot on his lower back. "I was going crazy without seeing you. I don't know if you know this, but I'm kind of in love with you."

"Really?" Michael asks. "Never would've guessed."

Ashton sticks his tongue out, so Michael kisses him again, and again, and again, and doesn't stop for a long time.

-/-

Michael wakes up to Ashton shifting in his arms. He's going slow, obviously trying not to wake Michael while he untangles himself, and Michael presses a kiss to his shoulder before he can get too far away.

"Just going to the bathroom," Ashton whispers. Michael hums and releases him.

He slept better last night than he has since school let out. They spent the evening either kissing or watching HGTV and talking about the features they want in their dream house when Michael makes it big as a producer and Ashton is a best-selling author. By the time they finally fell asleep it was into the early morning, Ashton's eyelids drooping, both of them pressed together skin to skin under the covers.

Ashton returns, pressing a kiss to Michael's cheekbone as he gets resettled.

"What time is it?" Michael asks blearily. He cracks his eyes open, happy to see Ashton in all his early morning glory, edges softened by the shadows from the curtains.

"Almost ten," Ashton says. "I got us a late check out, so we're okay for a few more hours."

"Smart."

"That's me," Ashton says. "Graduated Summa Cum Laude and everything."

Michael pushes him halfheartedly. It doesn't do anything except make Ashton roll further into his space. Michael doesn't mind, hooking a leg around his hip to keep him there.

"Oh, good morning," Ashton says. "Nice to see you, too."

"Shut up," Michael groans.

"Make me."

Michael can't back down from a challenge, and he has a lot of tricks up his sleeve when it comes to his boyfriend. He gets Ashton to shut up quickly, and Michael has the best morning since school let out.

-/-

Michael and Ashton elongate their day as much as possible, but there's only so much to do after they have to check out. They take a walk around the local park and find an art gallery to wander around in. Neither of them are particularly versed in visual art, but Michael likes pretending that they both know more than they do, commenting on lighting and colors and lines in a way that would probably annoy everyone around them if the exhibit was in any way crowded. Ashton finds a painting that he says should be the focal point of their future parlor in their mansion. Michael thinks it's super ugly, but he takes a picture of the name card anyway.

They probably won't have enough money for an art piece like that for a while given student loans and such, but maybe they will at some point, and maybe the artist will have something that they both like that could go in a modest living room in an apartment.

They eat dinner late and stay there chatting long after they've finished, ankles hooked under the table. Michael orders dessert just so they have an excuse to continue filling seats. Ashton gets chocolate sauce on his face and Michael tells him about it instead of wiping it off for him. When they finally split the check, Michael feels like he's splitting himself in half. Maybe things would be better that way. If he were in two halves, he could go back to school and go with Ashton at the same time.

"College sucks," Michael says once they get outside, lingering by their cars. "I don't want to go back."

"Run away with me," Ashton says. "You can be a starving artist and I'll be your boyfriend who sometimes puts food on the table."

"I wish," Michael says, rocking forward on his feet. "I think my parents would kill me. Besides, I have a project with the recording studio that I should probably see through. The band's not bad. It could actually turn into something."

"I hope it does," Ashton says. "Tell me when it's released."

"I will."

They descend into silence, neither of them wanting to say what comes next. Michael scuffs his toe against the pavement and wonders if it's too late to take those words back and run away together.

"Did you have fun?" Ashton asks eventually. "Was the weekend okay?"

"It was amazing, Ashton. It honestly was probably one of the best weekends of my life."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Michael grabs his hands. Ashton immediately brushes his thumb over the promise ring, and Michael hopes he keeps doing that long after the promise ring has switched to a wedding band. "I spent it with my favorite person. What's not to love?"

Ashton kisses him.

"I love you," he says.

"I know," Michael replies.

"Nerd."

Michael smiles and kisses him again.

"I love you, too," he says. "I'm going to miss you a lot."

"I'm only a few hours away," Ashton says. "I'll visit you and make you visit me. Besides, it'll be better with Calum and Luke there again."

"Yeah."

"Cheer up, buttercup. You just had an awesome weekend."

"Yeah," he repeats, squaring his shoulders. "You're right."

"Of course I am."

Michael rolls his eyes and kisses him one last time. When he drives away it still hurts, but not as much as it could.

Calum is unpacking when Michael gets in, and they stay up late catching up. He doesn't check his phone again until he goes to bed.

Ashton tagged him in an Instagram post. It's full of pictures from the weekend: Michael smiling with the Dippin' Dots, them at dinner, a selfie of them in the hotel room, mini-Sheila, and a few more secret shots he took. It's a perfect summary of the two of them, a combination of silly and sweet that makes Michael's chest feel funny. He loves him so much he might burst with it.

The caption is simply someday every day will be like this. Michael falls asleep dreaming of ugly art in their own apartment and waking up to Ashton every morning.

[rezdogsyonder]

Changing

Pairing: Peter Parker x Tall!Reader

Summary: Peter has found his soulmate but does she feel the same? Basically a soulmate au but different

Warnings: kidnapping, drugging,

A/N: Peter is aged up. Also I changed his powers just a tiny bit just one thing and the rest is the same.

This peice is unfinished and it will remain unfinished because I’m leaving tumblr and will not be returning. If you wish to continue this you may.

*********

Fuck. Not right now. Not today.

That’s all you can think as you’re nearly late for your first day as an photographer. It isn’t the first place you wanted to work for but you need the money. Well probably not a “real” photographer. You’re not hired for the job on a regular basis, but for their front page photos of Spider-Man. It’s cool, Spider-Man won’t let anybody else take his photos.

Well, it’s not really your first day but it’s the first day that Jameson is actually considering you as his official Spider-Man photographer. Before you usually would email him asking if he needed more photos and now he is finally now telling you that you’re going to be the official photographer for the weekly Spider-Man pieces.

You have started a blog for the hero and hopefully it will gain traction and maybe you’ll get to make an income from it. But for now you have to sell your photos to the Daily Bugle.

The rent is due Friday and you get a check from the gas station you work at that day, it won’t be enough to cover it though. But with a check after each batch of photos you provide will put you way over the green this pay day.

You’re rushing about your medium sized 1 room apartment. This place was a gem, the only reason this place was as cheap as a studio is because a billboard was directly across from the extremely large windows. Lighting up your entire apartment. It didn’t bother you much, it saved on electricity from never having to turn on the lights and all you needed was blackout curtains in your room.

You are not changing shirts but you squeeze into a pair of black pants. The grey boyfriend cardigan getting tucked in the back, but it doesn’t deter you from running to the bathroom and vigorously brushing your teeth. You’ll have to forgo the entire makeup routine but you have time for foundation and mascara.

Rushing back into your bedroom you pull a pair of socks from the top drawer of your dresser and look at your alarm clock. 9:42. 18minutes till you’re late. Well you know in Jameson’s eyes you are already late but he screams at you no matter what.

Your second shoe is tied, you got your purse and it has your wallet, phone, and keys already. You run out of your room and in the hallway of the complex. Fuck, locking these doors seems to be the longest part of leaving. 3 locks, self installed with the extra long screws. Never needed this much security before but some blind asshole next door seems to always be getting into fights. Like what the fuck, how hard is it to not fight someone, and then he leads them here.

Once the doors are locked and you’re out of the building you look at your phone. 9:44. 16 minutes to go around 2 miles. Well broadway cuts across, so probably less, but anyways you gotta run it. Now you’re not the most fit person, but you are able to push yourself more than what others would think you’d be able to.

Dodging people and avoiding running into the road, you make it to the first turn. Basically a straight shot now, but it seems as though people are wanting to be in your way today. You would love a bike right about now. Though you’d have a really high chance of getting hit by a car. But it’s right about the same risk since you are not stopping at the do not walk signs.

One car almost did hit you, but it braked in time but not without you slapping the hood as you went by. Not on purpose but from loss of balance. Well you probably would have slapped it anyways. Your face burns from the run, and the heat, it is the end of summer but it is still pretty hot out.

Oh god, this is awful, you’re just a more than halfway and you nearly ran into an old man and his wife outside of m&m world.

“Sorry!” You shout back but it’s not very loud and sounds winded. You won’t stop though.

Just a couple more turns. Just two more turns. Just one more. You keep telling yourself that you’re almost there, legs straining the muscles from the over exertion.

You get into the building and run to the elevator. You know you probably look unprofessional right about now but you don’t care. You just need to catch your breath.

You press the right floor and dig through your purse. The small mirror being a lifesaver as of recently, since being late is seeming to become a common ovccurance. You pat your forehead with the sleeve of your cardigan. You don’t look too bad, but not the best. You check the time, 9:58. Not bad, you’ll be just 1 minute early. The elevator ride giving you just enough time to breath properly.

The elevator doors open to the busy floor, and you go over to Jameson’s assistant, not even reaching her desk before she points her pen behind her to his office.

“L/N!” He immediately shouts, “Where are those photos?” He is still looking out the window behind his desk.

“Right here sir,” you pull the envelope out of your purse holding it out for him to take it. Which he does, ripping the lip of the envelope and begins examining your photos.”

“850. Tell Betty on your way out.” He plops you’re photos on his desk.

“850? That’s not my rate, there are 12 photos there.”

“These just aren’t worth your usual rate. 850.” He argues back, you’ve seen this before, had you been any smaller or even sitting he would have put his hands on his desk and leaned towards you to seem intimidating, but right now he looks like a child with his hands balled at his side.

“65 per photo or I go to The Post.” You won’t back down. That’s nearly a thousand, and you don’t want to let it go, even if it is less than 200 more than what he offered but you need it.

He stares at you, he’s turning red now in the ears. You collect your photos calling his bluff.

“Fine,” he grumbles, he presses a button on the small speaker on his desk, “Betty, write out a check for L/N for 975.” He released the button and you put the photos down. “Get out of here, she’ll call when we have another piece.”

“You’re a peach,” you smiled as you back out of his office. “Hey Betty, how’re you doing this week?”

“Just fine, but his wife wants me to control his anger as soon as his meds are sorted. Not looking forward to that.” She finishes filling out the check on her computor, and with one last click that is so familiar to you now, you know she printed it.

“Jesus, I do not want to be here for that.” You step back four steps to the printer and rip off the receipt at the bottom that she needs to keep and hand it to her. “Good luck, because you will need it. Thanks, see you next week!” You wave bye as the doors close.

Letting out a sigh of relief, and tucking your check into your wallet. You’re glad you won’t have to worry anymore. With this check you’ll have four or five hundred more than you’ll need for rent, meaning you won’t have to scrape by for grocerys.

You better hurry though, you have an hour till your next shift at the gas station and you still need a shower.

**********

The hours are going by slowly, with few customers to keep you distracted. Just 4 more hours and you get to call it a night. It has already been 6 hours since you clocked in and there had only been a handful of customers, making the day uncharacteristically slow.

Your phone begins vibrating on the small fridge below the counter, the shift managers name on the display screen. Seeing as there’s no customers you think it is fine to answer.

“Hello? Debby?” You greet subconciously.

“Y/N I have some bad news.” She pauses, “the person who is supposed to relieve you is refusing to come in. She quit.”

“What am I supposed to do? I’ve been here since 11:30, I don’t think it’s allowed for me to work past 1. Wasn’t her shift supposed to last till 8?”

“Yes I know but you are legally allowed to work till 4:30, and that is when I’ll take over because I cannot find another person to cover her shift. It’s only alright because I’m switching your shift tomorrow with Alex and you’ll have the day off to recuperate. Then it’s your usual day off the next so I think that’s enough time to get back to normal.”

“So I’m leaving at 4:30?” Disbelief evident in your voice.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I would get there now but John doesn’t come home until late tonight because he took the graveyard shift at his job and I can’t leave J.C. alone.”

“Yeah I understand, family comes first.”

“Thank you, you’re the best. See ya later.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You put down your phone and mentally prepare yourself for another 11 hours.

**********

Three red bulls, and a seasonal pumpkin spice coffee from the dispenser and it was almost midnight.

Many more customers has came in after the call, the universe seemingly wanting to tire you out further. Then it began slowing down again after 9. The time you were supposed to be going home if Patricia didn’t fucking refuse to come in.

It was about that time that a young man came in, wearing a dark suit but without the blazer. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Light brown hair and pale skin, he looked breathtaking. He quickly rounds to the back grabbing three of the big bottles of water.

“Just these for me...” he trails off as he sniffs, then he looks up and makes eye contact with you.

You two are staring at each other for a few seconds, his stare becoming unbearable and you look away.

“Ok sir... that’ll be 5.97.” You still feel his gaze. Refusing to look up, you bag his things. You hear his card slide through the machine.

“Thank you sir, have a nice night.”

“Yeah... you too.” And with that he was gone. Leaving you to think about this stranger for the rest of your shift.

**********

As promised, Debbie came at 4:30. You left to walk home. It was nice living basically across the street from your work. A short walk, but you still felt a sense of unease.

Looking all around you, you don’t spot any suspicious people. Not even one heading in the same direction as you. You let out a small sigh as you cross the road. But it does nothing to calm your nerves.

You’re trying not to seem panicked as you try to get through the door to your building but it might be obvious with how you’re shaking.

Past the door you let go if your breath that you didn’t know you were holding. Finally able to calm down. You walked to apartment, using the elevator instead of the stairs.

Once at your door your heart beat seems to have gone back to normal, but before you even put your key in the door you feel the hairs at the back of your neck stand up. You don’t know what it is, maybe it’s just a chill.

Unlocking all the locks you go inside, greeted by the bright pink fluorescent lights. You shut the door behind you and drop your bag on the floor. Too tired to care. Moving to go into your room, knowing that you’re not going to change into pajamas either.

Well probably take of the pants. Yeah, jeans are never comfy.

Shoes kicked off, pants off, bra off with some difficulty from your long sleeves, blankets pulled back and you’re ready for bed. You’re getting in when you hear a creek in the living room, but you don’t see anyone so it’s maybe the upstairs neighbours.

You turn around once more to lay down and you feel a pinprick at your neck. You slump over and you feel hands at your shoulders, picking you up in their arms.

Eyes won’t open, and you are quickly losing consciousness.

“Shh, you’re safe with me.”

*********

Your head is pounding, that’s what wakes you up. You still feel groggy and it makes your eyelids feel incredibly heavy. You want to sleep for more but your eyes keep fighting to open.

Once they do you are met with a room that is not your own. Everything is white, except the headboard which is a light grey, matching the bedside table. You look around, about 6 feet from the foot of the bad is a back door and there’s a bathroom to the left of the bed with the door wide open.

You run to the closed door, you grasp the handle but you get a head rush and are unable to turn the handle for a good 5 seconds. It’s no use though, the door was locked, and it doesn’t seem like a regular lock. It seems more advanced, it’s a regular handle but it’s warm, and doesn’t have any keyhole. It’s also not as big as a hotel handle, like the ones with the scanners. Irrelevant, but your mind is running a million miles an hour and you’re trying really hard to not panic.

You realize that you aren’t wearing your pants but a pair of sweats were at the edge of the king bed. You quickly pull them on. Your kidnapper has already seen your ass, but it’s a little bit comforting. Your bladder is full and it is more apparent now than a couple minutes ago.

They aren’t here yet, better be quick. You half jog into the bathroom it has a large sink and a nice looking shower, but you don’t want to use it due to there being no lock on the bathroom door and the shower door is glass. Not even one of those blurred glass doors, it is crystal clear.

You had already peed and we’re washing your hands when you hear a small beep and the locks opening. You’re drying your hands when you hear a knock at the door. You don’t answer.

Another knock, you stared at the door, a low sigh is heard and the door swings open.

It was the man from last night, except now he was covering his eyes with his hand.

“I swear I’m not looking but please come out right now.”

“... alright.” You’re voice is a little rough and just above a whisper.

“Thank you.” He turned around leaving the door open and you follow.

“Come with me.” he waves his hand over the lock and the beep is heard again.

He leads you through the door into a long hallway, when he turned to the left so did you. There’s no point in running when he would catch you in less than 2 seconds.

You pass by 4 doors, one on your left and three on your right. The fifth door on the right you entered and it was an office.

“Sit.” And you did, he sat behind the large desk and leaned forward with his elbows on it. “I need to tell you something that would be hard to hear. Hell, hard to believe, but just know that everything I’m telling you is true.”

You nodded when he paused and looked at you. You felt so out of place and uncomfortable. Heart beating so fast and hard, it feels as though it’s bursting out of your chest. Your hands slightly shaking and feet tapping where you sat on the edge of this obviously expensive chair.

“I’m going to be frank with you alright? You are my soulmate.”

You freeze, “wait... what?” You didnt believe it, he was right. He’s crazy. Soulmates were a rare thing in this world. How would he know? He only knew you for 5 seconds so why does he know? Why would he take you?

“We are soulmates. I felt it when I first met eyes with you, I know that you did too. I took you here because, to put it simply, you would be safe. There are many people after me and if they learned of your existsence they would find you and use you against me.”

“H-how do I know your not lying?” You stare at the lines in the wood of his desk, refusing to look up. When you look him in the eyes you feel the same pull that you did back at the gas station. You hear rustling and you glance up for just a second, then you look back when you realize it’s just his arm that he wants you to look at.

He begins rolling his sleeves like the way you saw last night. Or was it even still the next day? You don’t know. Not seeing any clock or any windows since you were at your home.

Beautiful lines are spread across his forearm and you realize it wasn’t there before. “Can you look at your arm?” His voice is gentle, like he’s trying to be comforting.

You stare at his arm as you pull your sleeve up, then you look down at a blank arm. You pull up your other sleeve just as roughly and see the same tattoo that he has. You touch it gently as though it’ll smear if you are as rough as you were two seconds ago.

“Mine showed up a little after I stepped out of that store. I guess you didn’t notice yours.” You rub at yours and it won’t come off, and the skin isn’t raised as though you have a regular tattoo.

“What does this mean?”

“This means that you are now mine.” You feel tears welling in your eyes.

“So I can’t go home?”

“No, and some things are going to change.” You look at him wide eyed, fearful for the changes that he has in mind.

“So I’m sure you have heard of the powered people of New York, and I am telling you that I am one of them. Not only that, but I am a member of the avengers.” He pauses, you feel his eyes on you and you can only assume he is trying to gauge your reaction. “But I didn’t achieve my abilities through government testing or anything of the sort. I was bit by a mutant spider and I gained the spiders abilities.”

“You’re... Spider-Man?”

“That’s right. Now that you’re here, I will have to give you the same abilities I have so that we will be on equal grounds.”

“How are you going to do that?” You look up at his face.

“I will bite you of course.”

[jjkfire]

Obey

Reader x Taehyung // mafia!AU // 8k words

Summary: You’re the agency’s worst escort and yet the local mafia’s head of security still chooses you

Genre: Smut, Fluff (?)

A/N: how long has this been sitting in my drafts? too long. anyway, smut? who is she? i forgot.

Having to pay off loan sharks and save up for graduate school isn’t exactly easy. Your day job pays you good money but the interest on the illegal loan your estranged father left you with, compounds with each growing day. You knew coming back to your hometown had been a mistake but with your mother’s recent death, you didn’t know where else to go. Who knew that when you returned, you’d be slapped with a debt so big that you couldn’t even dream of paying it off? You haven’t seen your father since you were 4 but that didn’t stop the loan sharks. They needed their money back and you were his only available next of kin. You needed more money and you needed it quick. That’s why when your co-worker, Seokjin tells you of an opening at the local escort agency, you jump at the chance.

Seokjin is an angel, that much you’re convinced. He’s pulled so many strings just for you and you don’t think there’s any way you can ever repay his kindness. He pretty much runs the HR side of things for the escort agency and is the only reason why you’ve been allowed to get away with most of the nonsense that you do. In summary, you’re a horrible escort and Jin covers for you every time.

The local escort agency is a rather interesting organization. It serviced mainly the local mafia boys, providing the men with entertainment every time they stopped by the lounge. Whatever it was they were interested in doing for the night, be that gambling, karaoke or even just plain old drinking, the lounge was the place for that. All the newbies to the escort agency were often made to work most nights, servicing these men. 

The job was simple. You were basically glorified arm candy. You would bring the boys their drinks, let them touch your butt a little or let them kiss your neck if they wanted to and then go home with a few extra hundred-dollar bills. Now just as all the other girls, clients could choose to call you up and rent you for a night. Yet, you’ve made it a whole year without that happening. Any other one of the escorts would be upset about that because everyone knows you get more money if you actually spent the night with someone. It’s a bit of a talent of yours, turning clients away from you without putting yourself in jeopardy but this time around, you seem to have run out of luck.

Tonight, you find yourself standing in line with 4 other girls, facing a double-sided mirror. It’s common practice for when someone high up in the mafia hierarchy was looking for a new plaything… or so you’ve been told. This is your first time ever being in this room. To put off the client, you chose an ill-fitting dress for the night. You hadn’t even bothered to put on make-up either. Your agency has long stopped trying to tell you what to do. Lord knows Jin has given up months ago. Anyway, you’re not sure why you’re even here. You rarely— or more accurately, never got selected from the binder because you had made it a mission to make yourself sound rather boring, unappealing even and you even made sure to be extremely honest about your lack of sexual prowess.

Yet, despite all of that, you were selected… and by Kim Taehyung no less. See, this time you were actually nervous. No one had seen you in this state before, actually trembling.

Last week

“Why was my profile even in the binder? Don’t you usually offer some sort of premium binder with only the best girls to clients as important as him?” You ask Jin as you pace up and down his office.

“We did but then he asked for the general binder. Said that he didn’t quite trust our taste.”

“Honestly, my profile shouldn’t even be in the binder anymore,” You groan.

Truth is, you shouldn’t even be an employee anymore but they needed pretty faces to entertain the boys. See, you wanted the money from being an escort but you weren’t quite sure about the sex part. The last boyfriend you had, had made sure you were painfully aware at how bad you were at pleasing men. So, you and Jin came up with the master plan to help you become an escort without really being one. Together you curated your profile, making sure that the men would skip right past your page when going through the binder of girls they could select from. It’s worked so far. You’ve fooled every single man that’s gone through the binder… except Taehyung of course.

Seokjin and every living, breathing soul had told you to keep your distance from him. See, Taehyung was the Head of Security for the local mafia. That meant he was the fixer. If there was a problem in any form, that being a situation or even a person, he would make the problem disappear. Easy, fast, quick. Taehyung embodied efficiency. They said he worked like a robot, pulling the trigger with absolutely no remorse. So, the word on the street was if you just so much as breathe wrongly in his presence, he could end you right there, right then. Around him, mistakes weren’t allowed and thus, you were told that if you ever got selected to be his regular, your life expectancy would sink like a rock.

You should’ve listened, you really should’ve. You should’ve found other ways to keep yourself busy but it’s not your fault that the girls didn’t give you a good enough description of him the first night you met him. They said tall and dangerous but to you, Taehyung seemed anything but dangerous.

There were girls aplenty that night you were working the lounge. You slipped away into the other room, knowing full well that you wouldn’t be missed. You arranged and rearranged the strawberries and assorted snacks on the many different plates. You twisted and turned all the alcohol bottles laid out and read their labels over and over just to pass time. You munched on the snacks, humming a tune as you looked out the window to see the town you call home. It’s not until you saw Taehyung in the reflection that you jumped in your spot, quickly swallowing what you had in your mouth before dusting your dress off any crumbs.

“C-can I get anything for you? Whiskey, maybe?” You asked with a smile despite the fact that you had been caught red-handed slacking on the job.

“A double shot gin and tonic would be nice,” He smiled and you got to work immediately. You were stirring the tall glass soon after, ready to lead him into the main room but he made himself comfortable on one of the couches behind you instead.

“It’s getting a little rowdy out there,” He laughed. “You know how Jimin gets when he’s having a good game of blackjack.”

You only nodded, laughing before you set down his drink in front of him. You stood awkwardly before him, unsure if you were meant to join him or return to the main room. As if sensing your unease, he called for you to take a seat.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” He hummed, stirring his drink. “Are you new?”

“Me? Oh, I’ve been here a few months already so not exactly new… but I’m Y/N,” You smiled, introducing yourself.

“Taehyung,” He grinned in return and he watched your eyes go wide, like you had a moment of realization. “Judging by your expression, you’ve heard of me?”

“Y-yeah… You’re the Head of Security. A very important man,” You laughed but he could sense the fear behind your laughter.

Though you were awkward at first, you quickly became comfortable. Taehyung was easy to be around, interesting to talk to and with every night you saw him, the two of you only grew closer. He would often find you in the back room, the same way he found you the first time, munching away on snacks meant for him and the boys. The two of you would be lost in your own world, talking about anything from conspiracy theories to sports to world politics and even local gossip. That’s not to say all the two of you ever did was talk. Sometimes he had his hand halfway up your skirt, your lips melding against his, moving at a set rhythm until you pull away, breathless, but aching for more. You guess you didn’t actually mind it. Taehyung was easy on the eyes, and that was an understatement. If anything it was sure as hell better than being fondled by some 50 year old guy. Maybe it also had to do with the fact that you were inexperienced, that this was the most action you’ve gotten since you broke up with your boyfriend more than 3 years ago. If anything, it was an ego boost. Who would say no to making out with someone like him? The answer is well… almost everybody, but contrary to what everyone said, Taehyung seemed harmless. In fact, he was rather sweet. Always taking his time with you, always respectful.

You believed it, you really did. You understood that Taehyung might be a ruffian at work but when it was just you and him, he was anything but. Jin had to sit you down and really knock some sense into you, detailing his crimes, reiterating stories he had heard. He was ruthless, a maniac. Someone who would slit your throat without hesitation. Jin said you and the other girls had to understand that if Taehyung picked any one of you, there was no room for anything but perfection. You knew among the 5 girls that he had chosen, you were the weakest link and for your sake, everyone prayed he wouldn’t choose you because if he did, it was game over. It wasn’t just your life at risk you see, it was everyone’s. If Taehyung was unhappy with the service, after dealing with you, the next to go would be Jin and given Taehyung’s reputation, everyone would follow suit. It won’t be you, you mumbled. He wasn’t stupid. The boys talk about the escorts among themselves. He must know that any of the other girls would be a much better choice. You were worrying for nothing, you smiled. It wasn’t going to be you, you were confident it wasn’t.

“Y/N,” Jin hears Taehyung say through his earpiece. With unsteady fingers, he points at you and Taehyung gives an affirmation.

When Jin grabs you by the hand, attempting to lead you out of the room, you hesitate. You were so sure you weren’t going to be chosen, not when you were standing next to what were the top stars of the agency. Panic rises within you because you’re not ready for this responsibility. You couldn’t have the fate of the agency resting in your hands.

“I have herpes!” You shout, lying, eyes roaming around the double-sided mirror, not knowing where exactly he was standing. “Tell him I have herpes,” You tell Jin who winces when you tug his arm with urgency.

“He says he doesn’t care,” Jin mumbles, tapping at his earpiece.

“W-wait— Taehy—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence because Jin is already dragging you out of the room. He wears an expression you’ve never seen before. It’s anger and fear, all mixed into one and when he pins you with his stare, you choose to look at your feet.

The elevator ride is silent, the doors opening with a ding when it reaches the top floor, the suite reserved for only the best clients. The last time you were in here was for a training session. You were taught how to work the room. Where to sit, what to do, how to entice the men. You struggle to remember most of it now, not when you’re thinking of how you were going to even survive tonight.

“Jin, please, you need to do something,” You whine, almost thrashing in your spot when you stop in front of the door. “Tell him something, tell him—”

“Stop making a scene! There’s nothing I can do now, do you understand?” Jin grumbles, shaking you. “Listen once you go into that room, I can’t really protect you anymore. You know what he’s capable of so, keep that pretty trap of yours shut.”

You simply nod, suddenly rendered mute by the warning. Before shutting the door on you, Jin flashes you a thumbs up, trying to look optimistic but you know more than anyone that he’s scared. In some way, he feels responsible for all of this and god, if anything happens to you, he’s not sure he can forgive himself. With shaky legs, you step further into the room, scanning the suite for a place to sit. Your eyes snap to the bed and you assume that’s where he would want you to be. It’s where you’ve been taught to sit anyway.

It isn’t long before you hear the door creak, Taehyung stepping into the room with a soft smile on his lips. He greets you and all you do is wave dumbly. God, you’re absolutely adorable. While unbuttoning his blazer, he realizes you look different tonight. The expression you wear mimics the one you had on the first time he met you. Fear. He could see it on every inch of your face.

“I uhh— I have herpes,” You mumble, again, as a last-ditch effort.

“I know you don’t,” Taehyung sighs, holding up a piece of paper that you know holds the results from the STD test that the agency made you go for just a few days ago.

“How are you so sure? The test results could be fabricated.”

“Oh your agency wouldn’t dare,” He laughs, placing his blazer on the back of a chair.

“Maybe I slept with someone last night,” You mumble, shuffling your feet. You mean to sound confident but it comes out sounding as anything but that.

“Yeah? And how was it then?” He asks as he removes his gun from his waistband, setting it down on the table. The sight makes Jin’s numerous warnings sound in your head again. This was no time to lie, no time to joke.

“Mustn’t have been that great if it’s taking you so long to answer,” He chuckles, noting your silence.

“I-I didn’t sleep with anyone last night,” You sigh, hands folding nervously in your lap.

Taehyung simply laughs before striding over to take a seat next to you. You’re nervous that much he can tell. You can’t even look him in the eye.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He murmurs, and you gulp, forcing yourself to look at him just so you can nod.

At that, he smiles. He stands up and makes his way over to the ice bucket tucked in the corner of the room.

“Champagne?”

“Yes, please.”

That’s the only sentence you’ve said so far with absolute certainty.

He walks over, glass of champagne in one hand and plate of strawberries in another. You accept them both meekly. Twirling the glass of champagne in your hand while you munch on a strawberry.

You’re a nervous eater and drinker. You knocked back glasses of champagne and almost cleared the whole plate of strawberries on your own.

“I have a feeling you don’t do this very often,” Taehyung smiles, refilling your glass for what must’ve been the 5th time now.

“H-huh? Oh, um, sorry,” You mumble as you snap into action. You tug your dress a little lower by the cleavage before you move up on the bed. You move slow, Taehyung watching as you kick off your shoes. Taking your time, you lay on your side, shoulders rolled back so your chest was on display. Your other hand slides to rest on your hip, before it slides down lower, drawing his attention to what he wanted the most. With your champagne still in hand, you put on a sultry expression, one you’ve been coached to make. Your free hand reaches for a strawberry, stopping to lick your lips just after a bite.

Taehyung takes a seat on the bed, laughing as he shook his head. When he turns to look at you, he sees a frown on your face. You didn’t understand. You did everything they told you to do. He was supposed to be smirking, not laughing. Taehyung pats the spot next to him, beckoning you over to take a seat.

“It doesn’t suit you,” He hums, when you’re finally at his side. “The whole sexy act they teach you girls to put on.”

“But, I-I’m plenty sexy,” You pout. You knew you weren’t a bombshell like some of the other girls were but you had your… well, charm.

“You are, you are,” He grins, pulling you onto his lap with ease as he’s done many times before. “I never said you weren’t. I just think you’re sexier when you’re doing your own thing, not whatever they teach you,” He hums as he pulls you in closer, his chest now flush against your back.

“But the act is what you boys like,” You mumble, as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “You know, we flash some skin, sway our hips, wink a little and by then you’ll all be drooling already.”

Taehyung lets out a breathy laugh, one hand wrapped around your centre while the other reaches for his champagne glass. He simply clinks his glass against yours with a smile.

“I can’t deny that,” He sighs after setting aside both his glass and yours. “But you see I much prefer you like this. Disobedient and sassy.”

You can’t see his face but you can almost imagine the smirk he’s wearing right now. It’s the one he always flashes you when he’s busy ogling you. His fingers toy with the sleeves of your dress that sit awkwardly on your shoulder, slipping them off with practised ease, as if he does this all the time and you sit there in his lap, too afraid to move.

“T-Taehy—"

There’s a hum of approval that leaves his lips, when your dress pools at your waist, his fingers brushing the underside of your bra. He peppers your shoulder with kisses, moving along until he reached your neck, his lips moving slow, leaving marks that you are sure will show tomorrow. Your breath stutters, quiet moans leaving your lips as his hand moves up to wrap around your throat. It’s right and it’s wrong. You want to but you can’t and you mean to stay silent but you can’t help but say what’s been on your mind since he stepped into the room.

“I haven’t had sex in years,” You blurt out, your eyes shut tight as you feel his lips pull away, the grip around your neck now loose as his hand drops back to your waist.

“I don’t know if they lied on my profile but I genuinely haven’t done it in years,” You sigh, hands toying with the material of your dress. They must’ve lied on your profile. Otherwise, Taehyung would’ve never picked you. “And I know they give us ratings, in terms of how good we are in bed and—”

“They rated you a 1/10.”

“Really? Wh—wha— T-That’s mean. I think I’m at least a solid three,” You huff. Three was the arbitrary number you and Jin had decided on because you were bad, but you weren’t that bad. “Anyway, that’s not my point.”

“What is your point then, love?” He asks and you twist in his lap to look at him. His hold on you is still tender, hands softly sitting on your hips.

“There’s a girl we have, Mirae. She’s a 10/10. Everyone that’s been with her, loves her.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with her. She was in the final line-up,” Taehyung mumbles, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What did she have to do with anything the two of you were doing right now?

“Exactly! You can just call them up, say you’re dissatisfied with me and ask for Mirae,” You smile. “They’ll send her right up.”

“But I’m not dissatisfied with you,” He frowns, utterly at a loss at why you would think so.

“O-okay, but she’s a guarantee 10/10 will blow your mind type of girl,” You mumble.

Your gaze is fixed somewhere else, as if you were too afraid to look him in the eye. It’s odd. You seemed to have had no problems being in his presence all the weeks prior to this. Maybe he was just so caught up in his own emotions to realize that you wanted none of this. Though, he’s sure that’s not the case. Most of the times he had you in his lap in the lounge, you’d be moaning into his mouth as you kissed him back as fervently as he did. You’d drive him crazy, grinding down on him as if you wanted more, moaning sinful things into his ears.

“Do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

“No… no, not at all.”

“So then do I scare you?”

“Not exactly,” You murmur, fingers pinching at your dress. “It’s just… you’re an important guy a-and we strive to impress. I also can’t afford to lose this job,” You mumble, eyes downcast.

“So you think you’re going to lose this job if I’m not impressed?”

“It’s a possibility, yes.”

“I’ll tell them you were a 10/10 mind blowing experience even if you were atrocious if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, as if hope was gleaming in them and at that he could only smile. My god, you had him wrapped around your finger and you didn’t even know it.

“A-and you can’t take it out on anyone at the agency,” You mumble.

“You have my word, love,” He grins, nodding. “And I am always a man of my word.”

See, he’s anything but dangerous. You didn’t understand why everyone sees him as some type of monster.

“So,” He hums, twisting you back into your original spot, his chest pressed against your back once more. “Now back to business. You said you haven’t had sex in years? Is that why you’re always dripping even when all we’ve been doing is kissing?”

“I-I do not know what you’re talking about.”

Taehyung laughs, lips tucked between his teeth when you attempt to shrink away.

“There’s no need to be shy about it,” He smiles, hands moving down towards your thigh. His fingers massage your inner thighs, slowly making its way up. They creep higher and higher and you whimper, especially so when he lets out a breathy laugh. “So, you decided to skip the panties today,” He notes when he finds nothing but your smooth skin. His fingers move through your folds, making you squirm in his hold. “And here I was, thinking you didn’t want any of this.”

“I… I ran out of time,” You mumble. “Couldn’t find a clean pair.”

Taehyung snorts, shaking his head. You surely are an interesting character.

“I’m not complaining,” He smirks. “It just makes my job easier.”

Taehyung surely takes his time, his fingers moving at a glacial pace as his lips continue their work on your neck. You want to tell him to speed it up, to do something because you needed your 3-year drought to come to an end.

“You have something to say?” He questions as you continue to whine and fidget.

“I want more,” You murmur.

“More? More what, love?”

You know he’s just teasing. He knows what you want. How could he possibly not.

“Tell me, what do you want? Is it my fingers in your pussy?” He smirks, plunging two of them into you without any warning whatsoever and you moan, your eyebrows knit together at the sensation. “Or do you want me to touch you here? Work this until you’re sore and begging me to stop?” He queries, his thumb beginning to rub your clit in tight circles. You screw your eyes shut at the feeling, your hand fisting the sheets by your side as you spread your legs wider. God, it’s been too long, you think to yourself. This could hardly compare to your nightly routine of rubbing one out yourself under the blanket. The way his fingers stretch you when he curls them upwards makes you feel delirious and all you can do is mumble his name over and over. His thumb rubs tighter, faster circles against your bundle of nerves and you bite down on your lip to muffle the choked noises that threaten to spill out of your mouth.

“Look at you, you’re making such a mess,” He murmurs into your ear. The way his lips ghosts the shell of your ear makes a shiver run through you. His lips slowly moves down to leave marks on your neck, his tongue laving across the spots he’s decorated your skin with. “You’re dripping all over. Is it because you haven’t been touched in a while or because you’ve never been touched like this at all?”

You can’t answer, not when he’s doing all of that. Your mouth hangs open, almost as if you’re trying to answer him but all that leaves your throat are soft moans. Taehyung only laughs, his free hand moving to unbuckle your bra, fingers pinching your nipples when you finally help him rid yourself of the bra.

“Answer me, love,” He grins, teasing your nipple again, the act eliciting yet another moan out of you. “Has anyone else made you feel like this?”

“N-no,” You manage to say. “M-my ex wasn’t into anything other than doing it in the doggy position.”

“That’s a shame,” He sighs. “He never got to see you like this, moaning and whimpering, all desperate for more,” He hums, his hand abandoning your chest to move up to your throat, squeezing it lightly.

“I’m gonna cum,” You choke out as you begin to see white behind your eyelids, your legs trembling as he picks up the pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you with fervour.

“Not yet, love. You only cum when I say so.”

“I c-cant—”

“Ah, but you will,” He mumbles, adding a third finger, making you let out a choked sob. He wears an evil smirk as he teases your breast with his hand, his fingers moving to pinch your nipple harshly. You let out a whimper, your head lolling back as you try to ignore the tension in the pit of your stomach that threatens to snap.

“Please, please Taehyung, I—" Your sentence is cut short by a moan because he presses against your clit harder, rubbing figure eights at a pace that almost makes you go limp. You can feel your control begin to slip, your legs trembling as the pressure building in your abdomen finally snaps and you see nothing but hot white behind your eyelids. You’re panting, grinding down onto Taehyung’s lap as a slew of cuss words escape you. The man is relentless, his digits curling into your walls, his thumb still continuing on at its furious pace as you climb down from your high.

“I guess you’re not very good at following orders,” Taehyung sighs, clicking his tongue as he finally stops, pulling his hand away from your sopping pussy. He brings his hand up to your mouth, forcing you to lick clean your juices off his fingers and you do, tongue moving across them as you suck. “Dirty girl,” He smirks, pulling his digits out of your mouth before he grabs you by the waist, twisting you in his lap so you were facing him again.

“So what shall we do with you, hmm?” He prompts, his hold tender but his gaze otherwise. “I don’t take too kindly to disobedient sluts,” He huffs, removing his hold on you to loosen the tie he’s been wearing. You gulp, almost trembling because you couldn’t quite tell what he was going to do next. With the tie still in his hands, he reaches over to lift you up off his lap, urging to make yourself at home higher up the bed. He smirks, eyeing you in all your glory and with a single finger he points at your dress still pooled at your waist. You nod in understanding, discarding it without him having to say a single word. There was no more room for mistakes.

“This time when I say you only cum when I say so, I hope you listen,” He exhales as he stands up to unbuckle his pants. “Unless of course, you wish to be punished,” He smiles, devilishly so, as he unbuttons his shirt, tossing the tie onto the bed.

“N-no, I don’t,” You mumble, stuttering, unsure exactly what kind of punishment he meant. Did he mean punishment as in he would put a bullet in your skull or punishment as in a light spank on the ass? Though the latter sounds tempting, you’re not willing to find out just what he has in store for you in case of your disobedience. “I’ll be good,” You murmur, hypnotized when he rids himself of his pants and boxers, his cock slapping against his stomach.

“Will you?” He hums, hands wrapped around his member, groaning as he pumps himself a few times, precum leaking out of the tip. You watch, mesmerized, almost drooling as he pads over closer to you. “But you know, I can’t help but think I’m being too easy on you.”

You freeze in your spot, unsure of what to do next. Luckily for you, Taehyung does all the work. With his back sinking into the pillows, he pulls you onto his lap again but this time you’re facing him.

“See, this isn’t the first time. You’re always defiant, sassy, and I can’t count the number of times I’ve wanted to fuck you stupid when we were in the lounge just so you could understand who you were dealing with,” He hums, rubbing the head of his cock against your folds. You shiver, biting your lip as you could feel it just mere centimetres away from where you wanted it to be.

“Then do it,” You tease, hand slipping down to guide his length to your entrance because if he was going to leave you waiting for so long, he obviously needed help. Taehyung only laughs at that, slapping your hand away. He guides you onto your back, pinning your hands above your head as he leaves kisses down the valley of your breasts, only stopping because he can hear you release a shaky exhale.

“Oh, I will,” He smirks, pulling away to line up his cock to your pussy. He starts slow, teasing you as he rubs his cock against your core, groaning as your juices coated his length. You whine, about to demand him to do something but before you can say anything, he plunges into you, thrusting upwards in one swift motion, giving you no time to adjust to his size. You gasp, mouth hanging open as you let out a choked sob. “Baby, I’ll fuck you so good, so hard but only if you promise to listen.”

“I-I will,” You whimper, soft moans filling up the room as he rocks against you slowly.

“Good,” He mumbles before his tongue envelops one of your nipples. “Now keep your hands there. No touching until I say so.”

You only nod in response, barely able to hear him as your mind goes blank, his cock brushing against the spot that made your toes curl. Your body felt like it was on fire, his touch making you keen against him, his lips making your mind grow hazy.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He groans, eyes screwed shut as he delivers on his promise, thrusting into you so hard that you could almost feel him in your throat. He lifts your legs up over his shoulder and god, you didn’t think he could make you feel any better but as he buries his cock into you to the hilt, you can only moan in return. Taehyung whines, meeting your tongue in a sloppy kiss, lips moving against yours with fervour. It takes everything in you to not reach out to tug at his hair, to pull him closer. You needed him, wanted him.

“Tae, I-I want—” You manage to choke out between kisses but he silences you with his lips.

“More?” He asks, laughing breathily as he pulls out halfway before he slams back into you. Your eyes roll back as he does it a few more times, rendering you silent apart from the long moans that leave you without your consent. “You’re a greedy little slut, aren’t you?”

“Tae,” You murmur, your walls clenching around him as he thrusts deeper, harder.

“Don’t do that, baby. Not yet,” He warns, slipping a thumb into your mouth. You nod, tongue wrapping around it as you suck. Fuck, you were driving him insane. His other hand holds onto your waist with a grip so tight you’re sure it’ll bruise tomorrow. You could care less, especially when he was making you feel this good. You could already feel it, the coil in your stomach being held together solely by your will threatening to release, your muscles tightening and Taehyung warns you once more when you clench around him yet another time.

“Be good,” He grumbles, his grip on your waist tightening and you wail, nodding as you focus on keeping yourself together. You lace your hands through his hair, finding purchase on whatever you can, as if doing any of that could help you from falling apart.

“What did I say about touching?” Taehyung growls, as he pulls away from you, your pussy clenching at the sudden emptiness. Your eyes snap open, eyebrows tucked together in worry as Taehyung sighs, reaching for his tie at the end of the bed.

“S-sorry, I was just trying to—”

Taehyung isn’t interested in your excuses. He flips you over, almost as if you weighed nothing, quickly pinning your hands behind your back.

“Since you have trouble listening, let me help you,” He mumbles, using his necktie to tie your hands together, the soft silk digging into your wrists as he double knots it. He huffs, lifting you by the waist so you were now on your knees, the side of your face still pressed to the mattress. “I knew I was being too easy on you,” He mumbles, hand splayed over your ass that was now on show for him. Without warning, he brings his hand down harshly onto the flesh of your ass, making you tuck your lips between your teeth, partially muffling your moan.

“So, are you going to behave now?”

“Yes!” You cry, nodding into the sheets.

“No more chances,” Taehyung mumbles. “Next time you disobey me, I’m going to leave you high and dry, begging me to make you cum.”

You don’t even have the chance to say anything because Taehyung wastes no time, hand around your neck as his cock pushes past your folds, filling you up once again.

“Fuuuck,” You moan as he thrusts into you, his fat cock stretching you out deliciously. You clench your fists, wrists struggling against his necktie because all you wanted right now was to tug at his hair or dig your nails into his skin. God, he was driving you insane.

His hand around your neck isn’t there to choke you but more so he could find leverage to slam into you harder. You whimper and whine, legs threatening to give way with every time he thrusts into you.

“You don’t know how long I’ve thought about you like this,” He groans. “All pretty and obedient for me, moaning my name. So fucking good for me.”

The latter part of his sentence is punctuated by his thrusts, his arm wrapped around your centre helps hold you up as your thighs turn to jelly. His rhythm is sloppy now and you can tell he’s close just by the way he’s whining in your ear.

“Just for you,” You cry, as his hand slips down towards your clit, rubbing the nub with just the right pressure, making your head spin. Your sentence seems to spark something in Taehyung because he grips your neck tighter, quickening his pace.

“Fuck, baby you’re driving me crazy,” He grunts as you begin to lose control, your pussy clenching against his length, making the man lose his composure. “God, your pussy feels so good, so fucking wet and tight just for me.”

“L-let me cum, please,” You beg, almost sobbing as your toes curl up in pleasure. “Please, Tae, I c-can’t anymore.”

Taehyung grunts, pulling out all the way before he plunges back in, his following thrusts short and shallow as he struggles to keep a grip on you. He bucks his hip forward, hand grabbing your shoulder as your name comes out in the form of moans. From your spot, you can see his eyebrows tucked together, his face looking absolutely fucked out and god, you’d do anything to see him look like that again. He chases his high desperately, groaning long and hard before he jerks forward, his cock stuttering as his seed spills into you, your walls clenching around him. You whine, cussing as he brings you to your high, his fingers circling your clit, making your vision go white. As he comes down from his high, he thrusts into you, hitting the bundle of nerves inside you, hitting the spot that made you hold your breath. 

“Pl-please, please, please, Taehyung, I need to cum,” You cry, wail almost as you feel the coil in your stomach grow even tighter.

“You want to cum?” He asks, grunting. You nod, whining as he picks up the pace. “Then be a good girl and cum all over my cock, baby.”

You swear you almost black out, your orgasm so intense that you can no longer hold yourself up, your limbs betraying you as you sink into the mattress, pussy pulsing as it clenches uncontrollably. Taehyung pulls out, flipping you over before his lips finds yours between your pants. His kisses are languid and soft, almost as if it’s an apology. His touch is gentle, cradling your cheeks as he kisses you senseless, sucking at your lips so you would part them for him. His free hand moves down to your pussy his fingers slowly gathering his cum that was spilling out just to push it back into you and you squirm under his hold, whimpering. He continues for a while, his fingers brushing over your clit every so often so he could hear you whine, asking him to stop as your pussy throbbed, feeling a tad bit sensitive.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He asks as he undoes the necktie that holds your hands together. He frowns, hands smoothing over your wrists that have been rubbed raw. The question catches you off guard, his entire demeanour does. You’re pretty sure most guys do not treat their escorts this way.

“It’s fine, Taehyung. I-I liked it,” You mumble, eyes downcast. At that he smiles, grabbing the soft towel from the nearby table along with his blazer with him. He’s mostly quiet as he cleans you up. Of course he kind of sits there mesmerized as he watches his cum leak out of your pussy. Damn, you seriously don’t understand what you do to him.

Taehyung offers you his shirt before he puts on his boxers and you sit there, awkwardly buttoning his shirt because isn’t he supposed to leave now? Isn’t that how these things usually go? The men would come here, have their fun and leave immediately after. Why was he still here, lingering?

He soon returns to the bed, his hand reaching into the pockets of his blazer to pull out something. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as he produces two packets, a giant foot printed on each one. You stare it for a little longer before a dawn of realization hits you and you smile, immediately unwrapping the packet when he hands it to you.

“Oh my god, I love these. I almost forgot they existed,” You smile, pulling out the lollipop that was shaped in a foot before carefully dipping it back into the bottom of the packet that held the fizzy powder. “It’s so hard to find them nowadays.”

“Yeah, you can only get them at those really old family owned sundry shops now,” He smiles, unwrapping his own one.

“Seriously, I love this candy so much,” You laugh. “It brings me back to my childhood.”

Taehyung only grins as he makes himself comfortable among the pillows. He beckons you over by patting the spot next to him.

“You know, this sort of feels like it’s meant to console me. Like a hey, you were bad in bed but here, have a lollipop! It’ll make you feel better,” You laugh and Taehyung blushes.

“Th-That’s not what I meant by giving you this lollipop. If anything you’re leagues better than the 3/10 that you think you are.”

“Well, what was your intention then?”

“Nothing really,” He hums. “It’s just that I’m a man of my word is all.”

18 years ago

“It’s not that bad really,” You assure the boy that’s crying in front of you. “It doesn’t hurt one bit,” You smile, wiping the blood away from your lips.

You’re lying. It hurts… a lot and you kind of regret standing up to the bullies but you weren’t just going to sit back and watch those older boys beat up that same little kid again.

“I’m so sorry,” He mumbles, sobbing. “Next time you shouldn’t try to help.”

“I can’t leave you alone like that,” You frown. “They’re just being big meanies. You didn’t even do anything wrong.”

The boy sighs. You’re as stubborn as an ox. How could you not see that this was a losing battle? They were going to bully him forever. He was an easy target, the poor boy with tattered clothes and no money for food. He just came to the playground to escape from the constant fights his parents would have. He just wanted one moment of peace, and if not the playground, he had nowhere else to go. It was better than home anyway. Even if he got beat up here, at least he would get his moment of peace whenever he laid in the sand box alone, sobbing. At least there was no shouting here once the sun begins to set.

“Oh, my mum’s here,” You hum, breaking the boy out of the trance he was in. “Come on!” You smile, grabbing him by the hand, leading him to your mother.

“What the— Y/N, what happened?” Your mother questions, panicked.

“Well, we—,” You point to yourself and then to the boy next to you. “—stood up to the bullies!”

Your mother sighs, crouching down to inspect your split lip. She can only shake her head as you give her a grin, wincing in pain when you smile too wide.

“And you, oh sweetheart,” She mumbles, softly turning to see his face littered with bruises. “Where are your parents?”

“Busy fighting, throwing things at each other,” The boy answers honestly.

Your mother hums, gulping nervously.

“What’s your name?”

“Kim,” He answers easily with his last name that he shares with thousands of people. His father had told him not to give out his full name. Especially since there’s an order out to kidnap a Kim Taehyung. The mafia needed some leverage so that his father would actually pay back his debt.

“O-okay, Kim,” Your mother smiles. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Can I?” He asks, absolutely beaming at the thought of finally being able to eat a hot meal.

“Sure, what would you like to have? Y/N here likes— Where’d she go? Y/N—”

Your mother only grumbles to herself as she watches you run back towards her, two little packets in your hand.

“I told you to stop running off like that,” Your mother frowns.

“But he was going to leave,” You mumble, pointing to the ice-cream man who’s packing up his cart, putting away the assorted candies he sold along with his ice-cream. “Here,” You smile, handing a packet to the boy. He inspects it with furrowed eyebrows, twisting the packet with a large foot printed on it.

Your obsession with the weirdly shaped lollipop honestly drives your mother crazy. It certainly didn’t help that it was not the easiest candy to find.

“It tastes funny,” The boy mumbles, noting that the candy fizzes in his mouth. “And it’s sour,” He murmurs, face scrunching up at the taste. “But I like it.”

“Exactly! It’s the best!” You smile, dipping the lollipop back into the packet to pick up some more powder.

Your mother takes the both of you by the hand, leading you two to a nearby restaurant. She picks the place because she’s had a long day and she really just wants a good plate of fried rice to heal her soul. She notes the Kim boy is rather quiet, but in your presence, he seems to light up. Shame, she sighs. It’s nice that you were getting along so well with this kid, but you and your mother are moving away to another town in just a few days. Moreover, it didn’t quite sit well with her that the boy had said some rather disturbing things about his home life… and the fact that he was being bullied daily at the playground, that hurt her heart too. But, it was hard taking care of you alone. She didn’t really need more to worry about, in fact she couldn’t afford it.

“You sure you’ll be okay walking home?” Your mother asks, as the three of you stand outside the restaurant.

“Yes.”

“We can walk you home if you would just let us know where it is.”

“My parents really don’t like me giving out our address to strangers,” He mumbles, staring at his feet.

“Okay,” Your mother hums. “You be safe, alright?”

Taehyung nods, ready to walk away when you stop him, making him stand there as you tug at your mother’s sleeve, making her crouch down so you could whisper in her ear.

“Please,” You beg, hands clasped together as your mother gives you a pointed look after having heard your request. She sighs before she nods and digs into her purse for her wallet. The grin you have on when she hands you the money is truly precious.

“Here, take this,” You smile, handing the boy the $20 your mother had just given you. “Don’t let those stupid boys hurt you anymore a-and get yourself something nice to eat tomorrow.”

“Y/N,” He says, dumbfounded, staring at the bill in his hand.

“Oh and here,” You grin, putting the lollipop packet in his hand. “I was saving this for later but I think you should have it.”

“Y/N,” He repeats in the same tone, still in shock. He knows he should say something along the lines of no, I can’t take any of this but the truth is… he wanted both of those things in his hands badly.

“I’ll see you around Kim,” You mumble as you wave at him, walking backwards to your mum who’s waiting further ahead.

“I… I promise I’ll get you this when I have money next time!” He shouts, holding up the packet. “I’ll pay you back 100 times the amount,” He says, pointing at the $20.

“You promise?”

“I promise!”

Taehyung is a man of his word, always has been and always will be. It’s why when you go to drop off your monthly installment for the debt your father owes, they inform you that with the amount you had just paid, you had completely cleared the debt. They tell you that they were surprised to receive the money you mailed in last week and the truth is, so are you but you only nod nonchalantly. You make sure to get the proper documentation from them, to confirm that they were absolutely certain that your account has been cleared. You walk out of there with a nice little slip with their insignia and a gang member’s signature that verifies that the debt has been paid in full. You laugh to yourself, absolutely grateful for their miscalculation or rather, mismanagement. You actually had hundreds and thousands left to pay but hey, you’re not going to tell them that. God, you can’t wait to tell Taehyung what dumbasses his rivals are.

*bonus*

check out this ask for extras like how tae knew it was oc and if he ever tells her that he’s the little boy she helped out!

A/N: as always, thanks for reading and feedback is always welcome!!! (: also this was meant to be a drabble… i swear… but u kno meeeee

[bisexualsforprompto]

Of Roommates and Red Heroes Chapter 1

AO3

One (You are here)     Next

One- Of pilots and new beginnings

Jason Todd ran, ran away from the legacy he could never fill. The one he was still expected to fill. Didn’t they know? Didn’t they know he had changed?

God, was had he even changed? It’s not like he could ever make up for what he did. But he couldn’t wear the colors of the Robin ever again either. He crossed a line, he was past the point of no return.

And Bruce couldn’t let him forget it.

As far as Jason was concerned, he didn’t deserve a redemption.

He didn’t deserve a happily ever after.

Dick (in more ways than one): [is online]

Lil bro Jason: [is online]

Dick (in more ways than one): Come back.

Lil bro Jason: No.

Dick (in more ways than one): Please, Bruce didn’t mean it.

Lil bro Jason: Honestly I give zero f*cks if he meant it.

Dick (in more ways than one): So that's it. You’re just solo now and we’ll never see you again?

Lil bro Jason: You are welcome to visit when you’d like, along with Steph, Tim, Barbara, etc etc. I don’t want to see him again.

Dick (in more ways than one): He’s your dad!

Lil bro Jason: Godammit Dick! He’s not! Open your goddamn eyes! He’s not our dad, he’s a man who just uses us for his dirty work!

Dick (in more ways than one): I can’t stop you from doing this, but just talk to Bruce at least, if you don’t you’ll regret it, trust me I know.

Lil bro Jason: [is offline]

•~•Sunday Nov.17, 8am EST•~•

Knock, knock, knock.

“Mr. Todd.” 

Knock, knock, knock.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Jason said as he peeled a case file off his face, he’d fallen asleep the night prior reading it. Jason walked over to the nook where he kept all his ‘borrowed’ GCPD case filed which just happened to go missing from their archives every so often. For some reason, Jason liked to review case files. A lot. Maybe it was living with a detective for so long, but he felt at home in his own little world of files.

Jason brought a hand to his head, trying to shield his pounding headache. He remembered going out to the bar, but not much else. He brushed his hand down his face to feel stubble, another thing he’d have to deal with later. He fixed his hair a little bit before getting off his brown leather couch. He checked out what he was wearing, only pants. He sighed and picked up a plain black t shirt off the ground. Sliding it on, Jason walked over to the door and opened it.

Of all the things he was expecting today, he wasn’t expecting his landlord in full suit and tie showing up at his door. Unfortunately, it was his reality. A tall slim and bony man in a tacky olive green suit and oversized brown plastic glasses was holding a clipboard and pen in his hands. 

“Mr. Jason Todd?”

Jason sighed, “That’s me.” The man looked him up and down. Jason was about to yell at him for judging but decided against it. 

“You’ve been behind on your last payment for this flat. You have one week or you will be evicted.” The man said properly, leaving directly after despite Jason’s protests. Sighing, Jason shut the door.

He hadn’t found work in a long time. He’d been fired from his last job for drinking, and he couldn’t change his ways after being Red Hood and working with Batman. He went by the same mantle but working with Bruce did a number on him as always, only this time it was a positive change. He couldn’t work and make dirty money off drug cartels anymore, Red Hood was a lone vigilante but Jason Todd could only find himself doing honest work. Honest work that was very difficult to find in this day and age.

The only thing Jason could think that would save him would be getting a roommate. Jason sighed once more, all Gothamites were bat-shit crazy (pun not intended) and there was no way in hell he was taking Bruce’s blood money. Jason started drafting an ad and put it on Craigslist. The best he’d be able to do, hopefully before the date he’d be able to meet all of the candidates to make sure they weren’t insane. 

‘Searching for a roommate in a flat in Gotham Sun Apartments. $500 per month expected. Contact xxx-xxx-xxx for more information. (Images attached below)’

Jason rubbed his pounding temple, all he could do was wait.

•~Friday Nov. 22, 10am EST~•~•

“Voyage.” Marinette called before stepping into a black portal. She whimpered as she landed in a dark alley. “Tikki, Kaaliki, divide.” She whispered. “Spots off.” She was released from her heroine persona. Marinette was bloody, bruised and confused. She didn’t know where Kaaliki had taken her but she hoped it was far away from Paris. Marinette walked warily out of the alley to see a beautiful city full of life around her. Many people walked past and she could hear snippets of conversation, only something was off about them…they were in English! Marinette realized, could Kaaliki’s Portal have taken her to America or England? Thank god for Madame Bustier’s lessons or Marinette wouldn’t be able to speak a lick of English, she was practically fluent after all of her lessons. Marinette took out her pigtails and slid the bands onto her arm, she checked her purse, Tikki and Kaaliki were in there as well as $2000. Master Fu had given it to her before her...departure. 

Marinette continued down the street hoping to find some sign of where she was. Pedestrians gave her strange looks, most likely because of all her evident injuries. Marinette passed by street signs, all to generic to tell her anything. She accidentally bumped into a small girl wearing a sweatshirt that read “Gotham University”. 

Marinette knew it was a stretch, it could just be a random sweatshirt but still she was determined to try. 

‘Gotham University’ she typed into Google. Bingo. ‘Gotham University is a college in Gotham, New Jersey, America.’ So could she be in America? Marinette surveyed her surroundings, the most prominent building read Wayne Enterprises. ‘Worth a shot’ she mused. ‘Wayne Enterprises, Gotham’. Millions of hits, now she knew she must be in Gotham. Marinette continued to walk the streets to solve her next problem, where could she stay the night? 

Marinette sighed turning corners, looking for any signs around. She felt a rumbling in her stomach, she couldn’t remember the last time she ate. Marinette couldn't see any food places around. She wandered around looking wildly for a café, bakery, restaurant, anything. She didn’t even realize she was on a collision course until she bumped into a muscular boy, about 4 years older than herself with black hair with a white streak in it and blue eyes.

•~Friday, 9:40am EST~•~•

Jason groaned as he got up. He wasn’t drunk like most nights before. He immediately went to check his computer, still no hits on Craigslist. Jason sighed, he didn’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t get anyone to rent with him by Sunday. He refused to move back into Bruce’s mansion again. Jason picked up his apartment keys and went to look for some food, he couldn’t find a solution to a problem without food or caffeine (Tim had rubbed off on him more than he wanted). 

Jason opened his door and walked down the hall, he opted for the stairs as he didn’t feel like interacting with anyone at the moment. Jason brushed past the Gothamites on the street feeling extremely aggravated. He got lost in his own world of annoyance and didn’t even realize when he ran into a small blue-haired girl.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” Marinette said turning pink. She backed away feeling extremely embarrassed, “I just wasn’t looking where I was going and-“ Jason recognized that she wasn’t from Gotham. She just didn’t have that shrewd personality that came with the territory of being a Gothamite. For some reason it made him feel warmer, and his anger felt more soothed.

“It’s ok little lady, really. What brings you to Gotham?” Marinette stared up into the caring blue eyes of the boy she ran into. “I uh, well, um nothing in particular. But would you mind showing me somewhere to eat?” She asked, not wanting to revisit why she had to leave Paris. He seemed caring enough, hopefully he’d take her somewhere to eat. The man nodded, “Of course. I was headed to a café myself little lady. Hey, what’s your name?” Jason could respect that the girl didn’t want to talk about why she was here, after all, Jason didn’t like talking about his own past. 

“Marinette.” Marinette blushed. “Alrighty then Marinette, I’m Jason. I’ll take you somewhere.” Jason wanted to scold her for putting so much trust in a stranger blindly as she followed him, after all this was Gotham but he just silently thanked that it was him who got to her instead of some creep. Jason led her to the Garden Café right next to where his flat was.

It might’ve been one of the only places in Gotham that wasn’t completely littered with garbage. It had beautiful flowers and an outdoor patio where patrons could eat. Jason lead Marinette to an empty black table and pulled out a metal chair for her. “Merci!” Marinette smiled, “Thank you, I mean.” Jason made the connection, “So are you from France?” Marinette nodded, “Yes, Paris actually.” Jason nodded, “What's it like there?” Marinette sighed, “Well aside from the terrorist, it’s beautiful and a great place to live.” Jason didn’t even had a drink yet but if he did, he would’ve spit it out right on the spot. “Did you just say terrorist?”

“Um yes, I assumed it was common knowledge. I mean I know Ladybug reached out to the Justice League many times…” Jason gritted his teeth, the damn Justice League. His father’s call no doubt.

“So whos Ladybug?” Marinette pondered what to tell the man across from her, on the one hand, he was the only kind one to her, but she didn’t want to accidentally give away her identity. “She along with Chat Noir, are magical heroes who wield jewels that give them power. Hawkmoth, the terrorist, wants them, because with them he can make a wish and have absolute power.” Jason's eyes widened, sure her story seemed like a poorly written children’s TV show but from the little time he’d known Marinette he’d figured a lot out about her, and he trusted that she wasn’t a liar. And wasn’t a very good one at that. Living with the world’s greatest detective, as much as Jason hated to admit it, did have some perks, Jason could read people without knowing them for long. 

“I guess it’s not ideal to escape a terrorist and end up in the crime capital of the world though,” Jason said, he couldn’t imagine why anyone would rather be in Gotham than anywhere else. Marinette hadn’t known it was the crime capital of the world, she wondered why Kaaliki’s voyage sent her there. Maybe she was meant to resume being a hero in Gotham?

“Y-yeah.” Was all Marinette could stammer out. Talking to Jason made her realize so many things she had to do, she hadn’t had much time to think about what it could be like living in another country. She didn’t even have a place to stay yet!

“I know this might be a touchy subject, but...how’d you get those bruises Buttercup?” Marinette touched her hand to her face and ran her fingers down one of the scars. “H-Hawkmoth.” At least it wasn’t a complete lie. She saw Jason clench his fists. 

Jason was seething, he couldn’t believe the league would ignore this! One look at this girl would prove that they should’ve listened. If Jason was still aligned with Bruce he would’ve had some choice words with him, instead he decided that he’d notify Dick and possibly the Outlaws the next time he saw them. Jason couldn’t help but feel awful for the girl, he knew what it was like to feel like you couldn’t escape the clutches of a madman. He’d lost a bit of soul to Joker. He wanted to run his fingers down all of her scars and just make everything better, she didn’t deserve that kind of torment. If anything, he did.

“Say Buttercup, where are you staying?” Jason asked before the waiter came to take their orders. Marinette answered the waiter with a simple sandwich and Jason ordered the same. “Um well...I don’t really know yet,” she responded to his previous question. 

Unacceptable, she was staying with him now. “How about you come back with me Buttercup. I know we just met, but I don’t want you sleeping on the streets. Gotham is dangerous.” Marinette blushed, just now noticing the nickname he gave her. “I couldn’t do that to you!” She protested.

“It’s not a problem, Buttercup, really.” Marinette sighed, she felt grateful for Jason. Maybe she was being too trusting, but she had no other options. “As long as you let me pay you something.” Jason thought about it, he didn’t want to put this poor girl out but then he realized,

“I think there's a way we can help each other.”

[withabackpackandcamera]

Third Time’s The Charm! Iceland Summer 2021 Trip Reflections

Though slightly different in feel and activities when compared to previous trips, this latest installment of Iceland travels was fun and productive in its own way. 

When I helped plan this trip with Minh, because it was my third time to Iceland, it was important that I was able to visit and see places and do things that I hadn’t done before so that I could at least experience novel things, which can sometimes be difficult if you visit a country so many times. So it was a balancing act between letting others choose places they wanted to go, even if it meant that I had to revisit a ton of places, and choosing new places that I wanted to go. Of course, a lot of the places I asked to visit (because I had never visited them before) were time-consuming trips that led us to beautiful places located in difficult-to-get-to areas. And those characteristics made it slightly difficult to convince others on the trip that these places were worth the trouble. Or to convince myself that in our tight schedule, it would be worth it to spend a lot of time driving somewhere just to see one thing. 

It’s always a little difficult (as I have learned more and more over the years traveling with my family) to travel the way you are used to traveling (i.e. solo or with only your partner) or want to travel when with others, especially your older parents, or with people who prioritize things that you don’t necessarily prioritize. These differences always lead to arguments or tempers, especially when people are tired or sleep deprived, especially for us on this trip. But at the end of the day, despite the messy mood in the car from time to time, Cynthia and the family genuinely enjoyed this trip to Iceland. Which, at the end of it all, is the most important thing. 

And the success of our Iceland trip was really due to a few things. 

Volcano chasing. Despite the unpredictability of erupting volcanoes and weather conditions in Iceland, we were fortunate enough to check off “active volcano eruption” from our life bucket lists. The biggest reason I decided to plan a trip to Iceland was to see the volcano. And luckily, not only were we able to see the eruption at Geldingadalsgos once, we were actually blessed with great conditions and were able to make it 2 for 2 in terms of successful trips to the erupting volcano. Not everyone who has attempted to see the erupting volcano/vent can say that.

Beautiful, non-rainy Icelandic weather. In Iceland, you can never predict the weather you’re going to get the next hour, the next day, throughout the next week. It’s always so unpredictable. And when the weather does turn sour, it turns horribly sour. Luckily for us, this trip was blessed with beautiful weather the entire 10 days we were there. We barely got even a sprinkle of rain on this trip. The wettest we probably got was at Dynjandi. And the windiest it got was our hike to the volcano on our first day. Otherwise, we were super lucky. It’s rare that you enjoy an Icelandic road trip with 80-90% of the time there filled with sunlight from the never-setting sun. 

4WD and Waterfalls. The biggest difference between this trip and the two previous trips I took to Iceland was having a 4x4 car. Especially in the summer, having a 4x4 car in Iceland does wonders for travelers who are into nature and photography. Because we had a 4WD, we could drive comfortably and fast on gravel and dirt roads without feeling like our tires would die or we could mess something up. And because we had a 4WD, we could drive up mountain F roads and get to and see places that none of us had ever seen before, providing us, especially me and Minh, with brand new landscapes to view and capture. To be able to get off the main road and drive into the less-traveled interior of Iceland was amazing and something that I will do every time I go to Iceland going forward, weather and season permitting. And even though we didn’t get to see a ton in the highlands, the few things we did see were totally worth paying for 4WD! 

Meeting up with friends in Iceland. On any international trip, it’s always awesome to be able to find time to meet with friends on your trip because it’s very rare that 1) you have friends in another country you can reach out to and meet up with and 2) you have friends from the States visiting somewhere at the same time as you are and whose itinerary intersects with yours, especially in a place like Iceland. For us, we were fortunate to not only meet up, eat with, and hike with our very good friends from Colorado, Maggie and Ben, but to also randomly run into Bryce Kam, a Stanford tennis class buddy, and his wife Ruby in the streets of Reykjavik. On top of that, despite a loaded schedule, we were able to successfully meet up with three groups of local Icelandic friends that I had kept in touch with over the years. Thorsteinn and Thordis. Sveinn and Kristin. And Kristin. It’s hard enough to find time in people’s busy schedules to meet up. But when you’re on a tight schedule yourself, it speaks volumes to how great your friends are when they make time to see you. So very thankful for my friends in Iceland and all over the globe who are always willing and excited to meet up when I visit! 

Lodging Options. For the most part, we had great and comfortable relatively budget-friendly lodging options while in Iceland. Though we moved from place to place pretty frequently, we were able to enjoy ourselves in relatively comfortable AirBnBs, cabins, guesthouses, hotels, and suites at every stop along the way. And not only were the rooms comfortable, but the non-AirBnBs served great breakfasts. And the AirBnBs were conveniently located for downtown city explorations.  

Traveling with Money. Traveling with money makes a huge difference in how comfortable you are on a trip and, sometimes, how much fun you can have on a vacation. And we definitely had fun while being relatively comfortable on this trip. Because this was the first time the now-fully-employed little kiddos planned and spent money on a family trip. With a financial cushion, we paid a little more to stay at nicer places. We ate nicer meals without feeling like we had to cut corners and be cheap to save money. We rented a 4x4 automatic midsize SUV, which is much more expensive than the regular cars we usually rent, which allowed us the opportunity to see new areas. And Cynthia and I were able to do an impromptu horseback riding trip without feeling like we were breaking the bank and emptying our wallets. And compared to how I traveled to Iceland as a poor pre-med student in 2013, this experience was totally different because of the financial flexibility that I earned for my hard work over all of these years. 

Of course, with all the good parts of the trip listed above, there were aspects of the trip that I wish had been a bit better. I wish the lighting, the skies, and the overall photography conditions were better. Even though you have almost 24 hours of sunlight, sometimes, that’s not necessarily a good thing for trip-limited landscape photography. I wish the eruption in Geldingadalir and Fagradalsfjall was crazier with cool-looking lava waterfalls and lava streams and lava spews the two times we went so that my photographs would have turned out awesome-r. But unfortunately, it only started getting really cool about a week after we left, with the volcano now way more active (in spurts) and now overflowing with lava rivers and lava waterfalls carving their way through the dark landscape and dark nights. I wish we had maybe 5 to 7 more days in Iceland. If we did, we could have slowed things down and spaced out our driving a little more so that we didn’t feel like we were driving most of the day. With more time, we would’ve been able to sleep in on more days. With more time, we would’ve been able to fit in some of the sights that we skipped due to time constraints (though part of the trip’s time constraints was due to something we couldn’t have predicted or planned for). And with more time, we would’ve been able to spend more time in Reykjavik soaking up the city life and meeting up with friends without having to stuff it all into a 24-hour period. 

But at the end of the day, we made the most of our trip, saw spectacular things, had fun with the family and with friends, and made it home safely. You can’t really ask for anything more than that when going on a slightly last-minute trip during the COVID pandemic with older parents and with Cynthia working remotely and making a huge trip out of the original idea of solo volcano hunting. Nothing is perfect but at least we all had a great time and came home with great memories and photos to share! 

And to end my trip reflection, just a quick word/phrase dump of things that I’ll remember most from Iceland v3: 

Erupting Volcano/Vent With No Name. Geldingadalir. Fagradalsfjall. Highland Waterfalls. Zooming with 4WD. Midnight Sun. Gravel Roads. Cynthia Half-Days. Colorful Puffins. Chasing Waterfalls. Short and Stubby Horses. Sunrise and Sunset. Friends. 2021 Kia Sportage. Myvatn. Friendly Locals. Good Food. Homecooking. Restaurants. Sleep Deprivation. Engagement Photos. Third Time. Fjords. F Roads. Right Heel Pain. Photos Galore. Midnight Volcano Hike. COVID-19. Mom and Icelandic Names. Windy. Lupines. Hikes. Free Delicious Breakfasts. Trip Delay. Pandemic Travels. 

Trip Superlatives

Best Waterfalls:

1. Haifoss

2. Sigöldugljúfur

3. Dynjandi

4. Svartifoss

5. Hrafnabjargafoss

6. Aldeyjarfoss

7. Kirkjufellsfoss

8. Skogafoss

9. Seljalandsfoss

10. Goðafoss

Best Photo Opps:

1. The Geldingadalsgos Eruption

2. The Colorful Puffins at Borgarfjörður eystri

3. The Icelandic Wildflowers Everywhere

4. Vestrahorn at Sunrise

5. The South Highland Waterfalls (Haifoss and Sigöldugljúfur)

Most Incredible Views:

1. The Geldingadalsgos Eruption

2. The Lupine Fields in South Iceland

3. The Colorful Puffins at Borgarfjörður eystri

4. Dynjandi Waterfall and Cascade

5. The South Highland Waterfalls (Haifoss and Sigöldugljúfur)

6. Fjord Views in the East Fjords

7. Sunset/Sunrise Skies

Best Hike:

1. Erupting Volcano/Vent-Viewing Hike at Geldingadalsgos

2. Dynjandi Waterfall Hike in the Westfjords

3. Svartifoss Hike at Skaftafell in Vatnajokull National Park

Most Underwhelming Sights:

1. Asbyrgi Canyon

2. Aldeyjarfoss

3. Vestrahorn at Sunset

Best Accommodation:

1. Sel Hotel Myvatn in Myvatn

2. Our AirBnBs in Akureyri and Reykjavik

3. Black Beach Suites Outside of Vik

Best Homemade Meals:

1. Huy’s Icelandic Hot Dogs for Lunch

2. Modge Podge Leftovers Mi Xao for Dinner

3. Hot Sausage/Egg/Bread for Breakfast

Best Restaurant Meal:   

1. Lunch at Salka in Husavik

2. Dinner at The Restaurant at Sel Hotel Myvatn in Myvatn

3. Dinner at Strondin Pub in Vik

Best Accommodation Breakfast:

1. Breakfast Spread at Sel-Hotel Myvatn in Myvatn

2. Breakfast Spread at Malarhorn Guesthouse

3. Breakfast at Guesthouse Nypugardar

Best Dessert/Bakery:

1. Pastries at Sandholt Reykjavik on Laugavegar in Reykjavik

2. Soft-Serve Ice Cream at Ísbúðin Akureyri

3. Orange Cheesecake from Blaa Kannan Cafe in Akureyri

4. Pastries from Kristjan’s Bakari in Akureyri

Best Road Trip Snack:

1. Savory Snacks (Chips, Chex Mix)

2. Fruit Snacks

3. Pastries and Baked Goods

[yanara126-writing]

The Adventures of Hildraed Dawnsbane - Watching and Fucking Morals (4/?)

Farmer, Pirate, Menace, Captain, Dawnsbane. Hildraed has many titles, she really could have lived well without Watcher.

-

Read here or on Ao3. (1827 words)

Have fun! Comments always welcome! :)

I recommend listening to this song, as it was the inspiration for the fever trip that made me wright this. It’s really good, I promise.^^

-

Hildraed was mad. And she hated this town. Why was she even still here? Because fucking damnit she felt bad for these people. It had started with the damn cook, continued with the poor abused woman (had the fucker not been dead she’d have killed him herself) And then there was the blacksmith who’d promised her a discount, Aufra with her probably soulless baby (not that she’d told her that), and then the goddamn farmers. Because it always came down to farmers, didn’t it? And now she was slouching back in the inn, nursing some bad ale. And the stupid hunk was smiling at her. Fuck him. Eh, maybe later.

Aloth was far better to focus on, with his companionable grouchiness.

With a more desperate than enthusiastic swing she drained her cup and it slammed it down again, trying to pretend the ale wasn’t more water than alcohol.

“I hate this place.” Edér’s stupid grin only got wider. Hildraed glared some more at the cup. She wasn’t drunk enough for this.

“Does that mean we can finally leave?” Hildraed didn’t miss the desperation in Aloth’s tone and almost felt bad for him. Only almost though, she felt way worse for herself.

“Yeah. Yeah we can. In fact, we will right now.” Originally she’d intended to stay one more night and leave in the morning, but if she had to continue seeing Edér’s stupid, satisfied smirk she was going to punch him after all. She slammed a few coins on the table, not bothering with counting out the exact amount, grabbed her bag and stomped out the door. Behind her she could hear her new companions scrambling to finish their own drinks and hurry after her.

Outside she had mercy on them and waited a bit for them to catch up, grinning again at Aloth’s relieved sigh. It was too easy to play him. She’d have to teach him a bit to avoid having him be all to easy to manipulate.

Edér apparently wasn’t in quite as much of a hurry, and while waiting for his heavy footsteps to join them, Hildraed found her attention wandering through the miserable town. And of course, her gaze once again landed on the tree. Ever since her first meeting with the dwarf woman she drifted back to the fucking tree. There were no more souls left there, she’d checked far more than she would ever admit, and still her steps kept pulling her back there. And so now again.

The stench was in her nose before she was even aware what she was doing. Dangling, rotting limbs filled her vision as she stared up, wood and flesh melting together. All around her there were purple shimmers, whisperings that drover her mad all around the clock, but looking up there there was nothing, and somehow that was worse. She’d seen hangings before of course. She’d seen people she’d known and even liked hang much the same way. But something about this made her angrier.

This was messy. This wasn’t justice, it was a blood rage. The pirates she’d seen hung had known the risks. Perhaps they hadn’t deserved it either, some had been good people, some had absolutely asked for it, but all of them known. These people up in the tree had just lived, had perhaps never broken a law in their lives, had been punished for suffering a tragedy.

A hand landed on her shoulder and Hildraed flinched, cursing herself for losing focus. That was dangerous at the best of times, which this was not. Just this time the universe seemed to forgive her mistake though, and Edér stood next to her, chewing on his pipe. He didn’t say anything, only stood there, looking up as well, his rough hand, marred much like her own, on her shoulder.

Hildraed didn’t know what triggered it, maybe it was the sleep deprivation, maybe the weight of the last few days were finally drowning her, maybe it was that thrice-damned look of defeat in his eyes, but something in her mind clicked into place and she knew what she still had to do here. It was a terrible idea, would bare way too much to these people she barely knew, but she had to nonetheless.

“You know what my favourite song is? T’s about a boat.” Edér glanced at her, surprised and confused, but still amused.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting sentimental now? I thought you don’t do empathy?”

“Shut up, I’m drunk.” No she wasn’t, she hadn’t drunk enough of the water ale for that, but he didn’t need to know that.

“No, you’re not.” Well so much for her reputation then. She narrowed her eyes at him, glaring with all the intensity she could muster through all the aches of her body and constant buzz of soul fizzles pressing against her new senses.

“You. I don’t like you.” That didn’t seem to intimidate him at all, if anything he just got softer. Hildraed sighed and looked away again. What crew had she gotten herself here? One who was easier to play than a fiddle but had a wrong string and one who already laughed at her. And still…

“My mom always sang it when we were down on our luck. It’s about a crew saving their boat after it already sank. It was the first chant I learnt. I’ve sung it every time the universe hated me especially.” It had carried her through her 35 years of life even when nothing else had. She’d shared it every time she’d sung it, just as she’d been taught. This one thing wasn’t something to keep to herself. She had no intention of sharing anything else, the secret of her past would die with her as far she was concerned, but this one thing she’d keep throwing into the world as often as necessary. And right now it was very necessary.

With another look at Edér, and not the fucking tree, she turned around and stalked out of the pit. Aloth was standing a bit away in the shadow of a wall, trying to keep himself out of the public eye. Hildraed sat down not far from him at the edge of the pit and pulled her old lute from her back. She gave it a loving pat, before starting to pluck the strings in a familiar tune. Behind she could hear Aloth shift a little closer, in front of her could see Edér settling down next to her, but she ignored both of them.

“She went down last mid-winter in a pouring driving rain…” It had been a while since she’d last played it, and the familiar notes rang something deep in her, tugging at places within herself that she didn’t have a name for before.

“There were just us five aboard her when she finally was awash

We'd worked like hell to save her, all heedless of the cost…” It had taken her own boat to really understand it. In her youth it had been a nice story, and good tune with an inspirational message. Now as an adult it meant so much more. Her fingers danced over the strings with more elegance than she’d been able to work up in weeks, her foot tapped the rhythm, her body swayed with waves that weren’t there, her mouth formed the words that had accompanied her for so long.

“But we talked of her all winter, some days around the clock,

For she's worth a quarter million, just floatin’ at the dock

And with every jar that hit the bar, we swore we would remain…” Another foot joined in the rhythm, but Hildraed didn’t look up. Chanting was always exhilarating, but this was special in another way. She felt the words reverberate around her, felt souls stirring as the story continued to follow the melody. There was a clarity that had never been there before, an awareness that had nothing and everything to do with this song so dear to her. More souls were drawn closer, and it felt like drowning in life.

“All spring, now, we've been with her on a barge lent by a friend

Three dives a day in hard hat suit and twice I've had the bends

Thank God it's only sixty feet and the currents here are slow

Or I'd never have the strength to go below

But we've patched her rents, stopped her vents, dogged hatch and porthole down

Put cables to her, 'fore and aft and girded her around

Tomorrow, noon, we hit the air and then take up the strain…” There were people all around now, and somewhere the logical part of Hildraed knew she needed to be careful, to be aware of everyone around her, to not let herself be caught off-guard again. Unfortunately, that part was buried deep under the emotions and sensations flooding everything else. At this point she wasn’t sure what was hers anymore, she just kept playing and singing, surrounded by more whispers than ever. Whispers of pasts, of uncertain futures.

“And you, to whom adversity has dealt a mortal blow

With smiling bastards lying to you everywhere you go

Turn to, and put out all your strength of arm and heart and brain

And like the Mary Ellyn Carter, rise again!

Rise again, rise again; though your heart it be broken

And life about to end

No matter what you've lost, be it a home, a love, a friend

Like the Mary Ellyn Carter, rise again!”

She played the final cord, sung the final tune, and her fingers and tongue stilled. The whispers were still there, ringing loudly in her ears and rising to a crescendo, making her head hurt even more- Wait, no, that was clapping. A few hands clapping around her, and Hildraed finally looked up, eyes a little bit clearer now. It wasn’t as many people as she’d thought, a few guests from the inn, a few people from the surrounding houses. And Hildraed stared.

It wasn’t so much that she minded the audience, quite the opposite really, she’d always enjoyed hogging people’s attention. But that had been before this stupid shit. Before she’d started noticing way too fucking much, while losing focus of everything else.

But then, as it always was, it didn’t take too long for the people to notice that the show was over, and they dispersed again, throwing strange looks in her direction that she didn’t bother to notice. She’d be gone now anyway, let them think what they want.

In the end only two were left, one on each side, though when Aloth moved next to her she couldn’t say. Her head still hurt, she was confused more than ever, and she still hated this place, and yet she felt a little lighter now. The tree was still there, and it was still abominable, but maybe now she could finally stop looking at it.

And maybe now they could finally fuck off.

[controloffandoms]

Numb (D.W.)

Prompt: Just something that came to mind. Reader is part of the Super Fam. Older Damian Wayne.

Pairing: Older!Damian Wayne x Super!Reader, Dick Grayson x platonic!reader

Words: 5870

Warnings: Cursing, violence (lots of violence for a little bit), Deaf reader at one point, emotionally vacant reader

Notes: This just kind of happened. There may be another part, but this is where I felt this part ended.

Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5

You slowly rose from your bed. You had gotten in around four that morning and had to be at work by seven...unless there was a crisis that you needed to stop that involved you getting snapshots of Krypton as she fought against whomever decided to become the villain of the morning. Then, you could tell your boss you were late because you were getting some action shots of Bludhaven’s favorite hero-though Dick Grayson would challenge you on that fact. 

You would think a Super as yourself would be in Metropolis or another city close to it, but you would be wrong. You wanted to be independent of your father’s influence and your other siblings. You needed to make your own name. So, your father, Clark Kent, had reached out to Bludhaven Global Journal and had allowed you to further your career as a journalist without having to live up to the expectations of the Daily Planet since your parents were Clark and Lois, two famed journalists. After much debate, you decided to take the out and transfer to Bludhaven. That had been the best decision to make. 

Last night you and Dick, as Krypton and Nightwing, had taken on Bane and Blockbuster who were teaming up to take Bludhaven before moving onto Gotham. Bane had been working on the Gotham end while Blockbuster had worked on Bludhaven. Last minute, Bane had joined the fight and your found yourself between a rock and a hard place. Why, you ask, does that put you in a pickle? While you are part Kryptonian, you didn’t get all of the powers your dad had...or Jon had...you didn’t even have the best attributes like Connor did. Sure, you can fly, you have heat vision, super hearing and strength. You do not have cold breath, X-Ray vision, or superspeed. The worst part was that you didn’t even have the invulnerability. You get bruised and cut like Dick does after a rough battle. While it takes more force to break bones, that’s also a possibility-especially when fighting Blockbuster and Bane. 

You and Dick had stood back to back, taking in the new scene and information. Needless to say, your ached all over and were grateful that Dick was able to find the information you both needed to stop their operation in its tracks. While he had been off on a search of information, you had taken on the two powerhouses. Let’s just say that by the time Dick had the information, you were overpowered and running out of energy. 

You stumbled into the bathroom and started your morning routine. A short, but relaxing shower followed by applying makeup to your bruises and cuts so no one at work could ask about your after-shift activities. You checked everything in the mirror before exiting your room and walking to the kitchen where Dick was just setting out a warm breakfast with coffee while taking a face-time from Bruce. 

Dick’s eleven years older than you (as you were Damian’s age) and had taken it upon himself to watch out for you in Bludhaven. After you had accepted your position at BGJ, you had been called by Grayson telling you that he had lots of extra space in his penthouse that he would be willing to rent out to you. He knew the only way that you would accept the offer is if you worked for the space. He had been right, and you couldn’t thank him enough. It was nice not being all alone in a new city at the beginning. As the months went on, it was just nice to come home to someone who knew your nightly activities and understood both the mundane and super things. 

Dick sat next to your at the bar, leaning the phone on the popsocket to get both of you in the picture and freeing his hands so he could eat. “Morning Bruce,” you mumble, not yet completely awake. 

“Morning. Tell me what you experienced last night,” the frame shifted as Damian joined the picture. 

“TT, they did a number on your face, (Y/N),” Damian sighed. 

“Thanks for the update,” you rolled your eyes. “I had my suspicions after having overheard a conversation Blockbuster was having with someone on the phone before Dick showed up last night. No names were mentioned but they were talking about a ‘shipment’ that would cripple both Gotham and Bludhaven. They wanted to take out the vigilanties and take over the cities and make them in their own image. After the call ended, Blockbuster met with Tarantula. Tarantula was in charge of the shipment and was given coded directions that I still haven’t been able to decode. Whatever this ‘shipment’ is, I believe we better get ahead of it before they have a chance to use it against us. I’ll keep on trying to decode the message after I get to work today.”

“The information I downloaded and deleted from their computers seemed to cripple the operation for the time being. I think that they have something to do with the shipment that (Y/N) was talking about. She gave me a copy of the coded directions and I’m going to see if I can get anything from looking at that and the files. I’ll make it my primary case today. From the information I got several warehouses in Gotham, I’ve sent the information over to you for you both to look into. Be careful, in case the Gotham end is more prepared than ours,” Dick took a gulp of coffee.

“I will grab Drake, Todd, and Brown. We’ll go look into the warehouses. I will let you know of our findings,” Damien nodded. 

“I did my own recon last night while Bane was still in Gotham. He was meeting with Joker, Harley, Penguin, Two-Face, and Riddler. I wasn’t able to get much information out of the conversation, but they were talking of the operation taking place in the next two weeks. Depending on if all of the information you gathered transfers over to the Gotham operation, you could have set them back as well. I want us all to be on our toes. I also believe that if Bane was meeting with five other villains that your operation is bigger than just Blockbuster and Tarantula,” Bruce sighed, looking up as a knock sounded on his door. “I don’t want either of you patrolling on your own, that goes for you as well Damian. We’ll talk more later. Be safe.” 

The video ended and you stretched as you stood to take your dirty dishes to the sink. “Damian was right, Bane and Blockbuster did a number on your last night. Maybe you should call out today.”

You turned sharply, ignoring the pull of multiple cuts on your stomach. “I am a powerful Kryptonian, I do not need to take ‘sick days’. I will apply more makeup and be on my way. Stay safe on the job today, Dick. I’d hate to have to take an early break to save your ass because you can’t reveal to your partner that you’re Nightwing,” you stalked off to finish getting ready for work. 

Don’t misunderstand, you love Dick Grayson. He’s like a big brother to you, a big brother that you never got, being the oldest in the Kent clan. At twenty-three, you’re still headstrong and willing to push every ache behind in order to get the job done and seem normal. You had been the first one that Clark had to teach to control your super strength, dial down your hearing, control your heat vision when you were angry. You had been the trial run. Hell, you were the reason that they slowly tested Jon’s abilities just in case he was like you, with penetrable skin. After realizing you weren’t bullet proof, it took your father almost a whole year to let you patrol again. 

You stepped into the living room of the penthouse, seeing Dick grabbing his keys. You sighed quietly and walked over to him. “Thank you for being concerned, but I know my limits. I’ll leave work early if I’m not feeling well. Don’t do anything stupid today, Detective Grayson,” you hugged him. He wrapped you in gentle but firm arms. 

“I know you do, but you’re my little sister (Y/N/N). I worry. I promise no stupidity today as long as you do the same,” he released you, giving you a look. 

“Scouts honor,” you smirked and grabbed your own set of keys. You both parted once you got to the car garage. 

_____________

You looked up as a shadow cast over your workspace. “Kent, we need to talk.” You rose an eyebrow at Damian and stood. 

“I need to tell my boss that I’m not feeling too well and will be taking the rest of the day off,” you state as you grab your things. After he was informed, you and Damian began the walk to the parking garage. “What’s this about, Mr. Wayne,” you asked. Since you were in public, you were treating him as if he was in on your next story. An informant or professional expert on what your next article was going to be. 

He opened the passenger door of his car and closed it behind you before joining you in the car. “We have time sensitive information on Blockbuster and Bane’s operation. It’s even bigger than we thought. We’re meeting everyone back at Grayson’s penthouse.”

You nodded and stared out the window before turning to look at Damian as he drove. His chiseled cheeks, his broad shoulders, the muscles rippling beneath the tailored suit he wore. His eyes turned to you briefly, but you didn’t turn away. “It’s been a while,” you casually stated.

“I know. Next time I’ll come for a social visit. Or you could come to Gotham, either way. We haven’t spent time together since you got your job eight months ago,” A small smile was present on his face. 

“You still see Jon almost every week,” you asked.

“Oh most definitely. He asks me when I’m going to come see you,” you rolled your eyes. Jon and Damian were best friends, much like you and Damian were. Jon just seemed to think that there was more to your relationship than just being best friends. He was right on your end. You realized four years ago that you were in love with your best friend. You knew he couldn’t feel the same, so you kept it to yourself and used your feelings for him to better your friendship and protect him when your worked on missions together.

“The little brat thinks he’s so slick,” you joked.

“You might want to tone down the judgement on your brother. When I said this operation was even bigger than we thought, that meant that it spread to Metropolis. Jon and Conner are already with Grayson in the penthouse. Your father is off world but is trying to wrap up the mission to get back here to help deal with the situation. Father, Todd, and Drake have arrived at the penthouse. Pennyworth and Brown are monitoring things in Gotham.”

You nodded and stretched your hearing to the penthouse. Everyone Damian had mentioned was, in fact, at the penthouse. Another sound caught your attention. You zoned in on it and tensed. “-eady in two hours. We’ll take those idiot do-gooder’s out in no time,” that was Tarantula. 

“Good. I want to be rid of them as soon as possible.” Blockbuster.

You zoned back into the car as it parked. You both exited the car, but you paused as a scream reached your ears. It was coming from the same direction as Blockbuster and Tarantula. “-(Y/N)? KENT,” Damian shouted as he shook your shoulder. 

“What?” 

“Are you coming?” 

“I’ve got to check something out,” you muttered, mind still on the information you’d gotten on the way...and thinking of the scream. Was it just a trap to see if their plan would work on you? Was someone really in danger and needed assistance? As the scream returned, you rushed into the penthouse, ignoring the people already in it. You changed into your suit and was out your bedroom window before Damian even reached your room. 

“TT, damn it Kent,” you heard Damian exclaim and you tuned out the penthouse. 

Landing quietly on the roof of the building you tracked the scream to, you carefully looked around. You weren’t going in blindly. This could very well be a trap. You wished that you’d gotten the genetics for X-Ray vision at this point, but you could deal with this. You could help the person in danger and get back to the penthouse to talk about the operation with everyone else. 

You entered through a vent, using the many lessons Bruce and Dick had taught you about hiding in the shadows and using the element of surprise. Finally you found the room where the screaming originated from. Good news was that there was cause for you to investigate. Bad news, someone did need rescuing and it was most likely a trap. 

You reached your hearing to the penthouse, before whispering out, “Jon, Conner, your listening ears on?” You heard them quiet down the others in the penthouse as they responded. 

“Good news, I know where Blockbuster’s master plan resides currently. Bad news, they’re going to go through with the plan in two hours.”

“Why the hell did you go off without anyone else,” Conner hissed.

“Other bad news, they have hostages.”

It was silent for a minute before Jon sighed. You could imagine him running a hand down his face, “and they know you have enhanced hearing meaning they were planning on drawing you into a trap...which you blindly did.”

“Not exactly. They still don’t know I’m here. I spent too much time with bats to be that stupid,” you paused as you saw movement as the door in the room opened. “Hold on, movement.”

“Don’t engage, Kent,” Damian growled, “we’re coming to you. You don’t move until we get there.”

Your heart stopped momentarily as you realized that you didn’t have a choice in that. Seconds after seeing the man come through the door, you put up your mental shields as you had been taught. Manchester Black, renowned telepath and enemy of Superman and all of his children. You didn’t know he was back on Earth. “Black,” you whispered, hearing Jon tell the others of the telepath. 

Apparently you hadn’t put your shields up fast enough to block Black. “Come now, Kryptonian.”

Before you could move, the vent was torn from the ceiling and you were left staring at Monolith and General Zod. A quiet curse left your lips as you made a head count. Manchester Black, General Zod, Monolith, Blockbuster, Tarantula, Bane, Joker, and Harley Quinn. “And I thought your little plan wouldn’t work,” Bane chuckled as he looked at Zod. 

“All of Kal-El’s children are too righteous to ignore helping the innocent. Even his clone can’t ignore the need to help others. It’s pathetic really,” he responded. You could feel Black trying to break your shields. 

“Can we hit this one now? I want to see her turn black and blue,” Harley leaned on her bat as she waited on an answer. 

“I need her disabled in order to test our plan out, go ahead,” Blockbuster grinned. 

It was like you were an all you can eat buffet and the villains were starved people as they all rushed at you. You growled under your breath and fought them off. You stayed as far away from Monolith as possible. As far as you and Dick knew, he was invulnerable-not to mention the superstrength he possessed rivaled your own. You kept Zod at a distance as well. He was a full blooded Kryptonian, he possessed all of your dad’s abilities and other than kryptonite, he had no vulnerabilities. 

You focused on Tarantula. Get her out and you’ll have one less villain to deal with. It wasn’t hard to knock the young woman out. With her out of commission, you worked on Joker and Harley while still dodging attacked from the others. You had knocked Harley out just as you felt yourself being picked up and thrown through the air, complete with the feeling that your skin was being melted. A huge fist pushed your farther into the concrete you rested against. 

You met the next fist and threw off Monolith. You didn’t get far before it felt like your head was exploding. With your concentration gone, you crashed to the ground, hands going up to your head as the rest of your shields fell. You felt the blood starting to leak from your nose and you couldn’t fight the scream that left your lips as the pain in your head intensified along with the physical abuse by the other villains in the room. Just as you began to pass out, you felt your left leg shatter, causing a broken gasp to leave your mouth as everything went black. 

___________

You don’t know how long it had been since you lost consciousness when you woke next. A quiet groan left your mouth and you bit your lip as you pushed yourself up. You hissed as you put weight on your leg. You floated slightly to keep weight off of it. Several fearful eyes stared back at you once you began to look around. As you took stock of the situation, you extended your hearing, hoping to find the heartbeat of your brothers or the bats. You couldn’t find any sign of them and that worried you. As you looked around again, you realized that this wasn’t the location you scoped out earlier. They had moved you. 

Your heart beat began to quicken and did your breathing before you quelshed the fear. Damian Wayne would find you. You trusted him with your life. He would find you and he wouldn’t stop until he did. You took one more look at the hostages in the cage with you, your face hardening slightly. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to try and get the bars open enough for everyone to crawl out,” you whispered. You didn’t know where any of the villains were, but you didn’t want them to overhear you. 

As soon as your hands clasped the bars, it felt like your energy was being drained from you. As you pulled at the bars, they moved barely and inch apart. As you went to pull at them again, a very familiar chuckle reached your ears. “I made them especially for you Supers. The cages are infused with Kryptonite. I have to say, Krypton, I’m surprised that the other idiots’ plan worked. I didn’t think you were dumb enough to fall into the trap.”

You backed away from the bars and glared at the man coming from the shadows. “Lex Luthor, why am I not surprised. I thought you were still off world.”

He smirked, coming closer to the cage. “I came back just for this. You didn’t think that Bane, Zod, and Blockbuster came up with this whole operation by themselves, did you? By being off world, no one would suspect my involvement. Once we take Gotham, Bludhaven, and Metropolis, the other heroes and cities will fall into our control.”

“How do you plan to make the cities fall? How do you plan to get rid of the other heroes?”

“That’s the easy part. You’ll be helping us out. We’ll see if it works on you. If it does, we can implement it on the others. If it doesn’t, we’ll fix it until it does...and even if it doesn’t work, you’ll be out of the picture,” Lex smirked. He crossed his arms in amusement as you pried at the bars again. “How does it feel to know that you’ll either be under our control or dead in less than thirty minutes?”

“That’s not going to happen,” you growled. Monolith, Zod, and Blockbuster emerged from the shadows and Lex smirked. 

The cage door opened and you took the chance to attack, pushing the Monolith back into Zod. You used your heat vision to blind Blockbuster temporarily. You had to admit that you were panicking on the inside. You were a cornered animal and they all knew it. It would only be a matter of time before one of them restrained you. 

You screamed and fought as Zod held onto you, dragging you through darkened hallways as the others followed. “When we get in there, make sure to inject her with the compound before we hook her to the machine,” Lex turned to smirk at you. “The show is about to begin.”

A door at the end of the hallway had light peeking from the bottom. It blinded you as the door swung open. It took a second for your eyes to adjust. That was enough time for your handlers to be changed out. Monolith was now holding you as Zod approached with a syringe. “No,” you shouted and tried to fight against Monolith’s hold on you. You used your heat vision, superstrength, and flight to try and get away, but nothing you did got you free. 

Whatever was in the syringe burned your veins as it moved through. You grit your teeth, refusing to give them the satisfaction of knowing how much pain you were in. “Lock her in,” Lex stated as he moved further in the room. 

You fought the whole way there. You weren’t going without a fight. As the last restraint was put on you, you felt tears of frustration building up. “No no no no no,” you mumbled, pulling at the restraints. 

“You’ll find that those restraints are made of Kryptonite. While I’ll be displeased if this doesn’t work, at least I have one Super out of my hair,” Lex turned to look at Black behind the console. “Light her up!” 

As the machine roared to life, you heard glass breaking all around you and multiple figures entered the room. You didn’t have time to take it all in before the machine sent a steady stream of energy at you. Upon contact, the fire in your veins intensified tenfold and you couldn’t help but scream out. You could feel Black probing your mind and implanting thoughts, but you couldn’t focus enough to block him out. You felt like your body was being torn in two...but then it all stopped. 

Black was unconscious, the machine shut down, Conner and Jon fighting Zod and Monolith… Damian in front of you, hands on your cheeks, wiping away your fallen tears. His mouth moving, but you can’t hear what he’s saying. All you hear is whitenoise. “Hurts,” you form the word with your mouth. Whether it’s spoken or not, you don’t know but Damian understands. 

Your restraints are undone and you can’t catch yourself, but you don’t need to. Damian has you, he’s lowering you to the ground, crouching with you, still saying something you can’t make out as he turns his head while he talks in order to see how the others are doing. Slowly, your hearing comes back, “-got you. Should have gotten here sooner. How are you feeling,” he turned back to you, picking you up bridal side. 

“Hurs, Dee,” your words are blending, but you can’t help it. 

He exits the building with you, holding onto you tightly as he sits in the passenger seat of the batmobile. Not long after, the other vigilantes exit the building, some with villains in tow, others talking in low voices. Well, low for them. To you, it was like they were yelling directly in your ears. Your hands come up to cover your ears, letting out a distressed sound. 

Damian’s arms tighten around you as you begin to try to get out of his grasp, “loud...too loud. Hurts,” you squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Father, get us out of here now,” Damian’s voice is loud as well as he calls to his father. 

_________

You’re lucky the penthouse soundproof. Even with that, you can still hear things, but it’s all dull. Everything that happens in the penthouse, though, sounds like an airhorn in your ear. The quiet talking of the other people in the house are like shouts. The flush of the toilet is like a hurricane. The beeping of the coffee pot being done is like being right next to the tsunami siren. Not to mention every time you move, even the smallest bit, everything burns and hurts. You imagine this is how Jason Todd felt after being beaten by Joker then left to a fiery death by bomb. 

You hissed slightly as you sat up on the bed. You had to get out of here. You had to get rid of the headache. You had to go somewhere quiet...and you had just the place: your dad’s Fortress of Solitude. You stumbled into the wall as you walked to the window. 

Suddenly, Jon is in front of you, arms crossed and worry evident on his face. “Where are you going,” he asked. 

Your right hand went up to your ear as you winced. “Quiet,” you whispered. Your left hand, which you had against the wall for support, quivered. 

Jon placed both hands on your shoulders to steady you. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“No,” you shouted. This caused Jon to jump slightly, giving you a moment to back away from him. “I-I can’t think! I can’t-I can’t concentrate! I can’t-I need-I-Hurts! Jon, it hurts! My head-My head, feels like it’s ex-exploding! I don’t care how quiet you and everyone else talks, it’s like you’re each screaming in my ears!!” By now, tears were freely falling and you had drawn a crowd. 

You backed away until your back hit a wall. The fire in your veins was back and getting worse with each breath you took. “Make it...STOP!” The temperature in the room dropped and you could only watch as each of your increased breaths cooled the room even more. “What’s happening to me,” your voice cracked, as did the mirror on your wall from the amount of ice piled on it. 

Damian was in front of you, placing one hand on your knee and the other on your cheek. “Beloved, you need to calm down. I will help you figure it out, but I need you to calm down...you’re scaring me.” The fact that Damian Wayne admitted that he was scared was enough to get your attention. You stared directly at him, nodding slightly. 

“Damian, I’m scared. Everything hurts. I can’t think-I can’t-I can’t focus...Veins on fire.” You shut your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. You let out a scream intentionally and stood abruptly. “Injection. Lex,” you closed your eyes, trying to bring the words to your lips, “injected me with something.” You could tell your body was shaking but you couldn’t focus on it. Get it together, Kent. “Black was-Black-in my head. Changed things. Put things in.”

The different heart beats in the room were going at different speeds. It created an unsteady thrum that you couldn’t help but focus on. “What kind of things did he change,” Conner asked as quietly as he could, at least you thought he was trying for your benefit to be quiet. 

You still winced at his voice, slowly sitting on the edge of your bed. “Thoughts. Feelings. All fucked up.” You put your face in your hands, trying to scrub away the tears that had fallen. “My fault. All my fault. Stupid. Idiot,” you mumbled. “Feels like-like mind’s splitting in two.”

“That’s probably an accurate description. You didn’t fully complete Lex’s plan before we interrupted. From what Conner and Jon heard, you were either supposed to be dead or under their control. Black was probably implanting memories and changing your beliefs and didn’t get to finish. Your core beliefs are fighting what he changed making your mind fight itself. As for what he injected you with, I’m running that through my systems to figure out what it was. Alfred and Stephanie are tracking down the exact components of it to see if we can create something to counteract it.” Bruce slowly stepped forward. “You just need to hold on. Clark’s almost back to Earth. We’re going to figure this out.”

___________

You’d finally passed out around five a.m. Looking at the clock, it didn’t seem worth it. Six fifteen a.m. You went through your morning routine on autopilot. You felt numb. You looked at yourself in the mirror, wincing at your battered body. You couldn’t feel it, but it sure as hell look like it hurts. Now that you think about it, you should be more worried that you couldn’t feel anything. You were battered enough that your makeup didn’t even cover the bruising. 

You rolled your eyes and walked out of your room and to the kitchen. You were slightly surprised to see almost everyone sitting around the living area/kitchen. You hadn’t heard them moving around. You grabbed a plate and grabbed portions of eggs and grits. You decided to take it back to your room as all of the convenient seats were taken. 

Before you could walk back to your room, a hand landed on your shoulder and turned you around. You cocked your head, why didn’t he just call for you? Dick’s mouth was moving, but you couldn’t hear his voice. The confusion must have shown on your face as Damian and your brothers approached. As much as you wanted to figure out what was wrong with your hearing, you couldn’t help but not care about it. You handed Dick your plate and turned around, locking the door behind you.

You finished your morning routine and deciding on a hat for today so that you could hide some of your bruised face. You had to get to work. You had an article due today after all. As you approved your look in the mirror, you walked out the door of your room. You gave the usual parting words to Grayson as you neared the front door, “don’t do anything stupid that I have to save your ass from today, Grayson.”

You had just made it out the door when there was another hand gripping your shoulder. You huffed and jerked out of their hold to come face to face with your father. His mouth moved and you barely made out the words ‘you’re hurt. You need to rest and heal.’ You shook your head and backed away from him. 

“Article due today. Gotta finish it. I feel fine,” the truth was you didn’t feel anything at all. His arm moved quickly to grip you again, but you jerked back again, glaring at your father. “Don’t make me do something I’ll regret later, Daddy.”

Jon was on your right side and Conner on your left. Both their mouths were moving, but you couldn’t concentrate on one of them to figure out what they were saying. You started to walk away from them again. You didn’t hesitate to fight against the next hand that grabbed you. You swung the arm over you, disorienting your brother before popping his shoulder out of its socket and shoving him hard enough into the wall to leave a Jon sized print.

You didn’t bother to stop to apologize, just continued to your car. This time no one stopped you. 

(Third Person POV)

Damian wasn’t sure what was going on with you. It scared him. The previous day when he couldn’t figure out how to comfort you and make the pain go away, he felt like a complete failure. He’d finally been able to get you to go to sleep around five and had promptly found his father and the others in the living area to figure out what to do to help you.

About an hour later, you walked out of the room like you were back to your old self. Like nothing had happened the previous day. Dick excused himself from the conversation as you reappeared with a plate of food, heading for your room. “(Y/N)! What are you doing up? I would think you’d be resting.” She didn’t respond. “(Y/N)?”

He placed a hand on your shoulder and you turned around, cocking your head in question. “Are you alright? How are you feeling this morning? (Y/N), can you understand me?” Each question was followed with her brow furrowing. Damian, Conner, and Jon approached you while Dick held your attention.

By the time Damian had an idea of what was wrong, you were already back in your room. He tried the door, but it was locked. He thought of picking the lock, but maybe you just needed some time to yourself. 

When you came walking through the room again, this time looking like you were going out, Damian was out of his seat quicker than any of the others. “(Y/N), where are you going? You should be resting.” It didn’t seem as if you’d heard him. 

“Don’t do anything stupid that I have to save your ass from today, Grayson,” you called as you grabbed your keys and proceeded out the door.

Clark was right behind you, gripping your shoulder. “I think there’s something wrong with your hearing, Sweetheart.” You turned in his grip, shrugging out of it. “You’re hurt. You need to rest and heal.” 

Damian watched as your face hardened and you glared at your father. He had never seen you act this way around Clark Kent. You adored him. Sure, there were times when you argued with your father about missions, but he had never seen this pure hatred that crossed across your face. “Article due today. Gotta finish it. I feel fine.” Your voice was a little loud which supports the theory that your hearing could be shot from the previous day.

He watched as you jerked away from your father’s grip again. If you had been an animal, he could imagine your hackles rising and you growling to ward off a predator or unwanted visitor. “Don’t make me do something I’ll regret later, Daddy,” you practically spat the last word. By this time, Jon and Conner had closed in on both sides, making a narrow opening for your to walk through. 

“(Y/N), Sis, this isn’t you. I think it’s best that we keep you here for today. Let us help you,” Jon held his hands out complacently. 

“(Y/N/N), please. We don’t want to hurt you anymore than you already have been. Let’s go back inside,” Conner tried. 

He watched as you walked away from them. “Jon, don’t-” Damian tried to call out as he saw Jon reach for you. Your demeanor suggested that another attempt to stop you would end up with one of your family hurt. You tossed him like a rag doll, dislocating his shoulder and pushing him hard enough in the wall to leave an imprint. Jon called out in pain as you walked away. Something was very wrong...and Damian was going to figure it out.

D.C. Loves

@jadedhillon @marvelite1998

Bats

@lettucewayne

Dickiebirds

@jadedhillon @actiongirl2005

Forever Tags

@miraclesoflove​

[thewritewolf]

Eating Habits Chapter 1: Anniversary

Things have never looked better for Adrien and his girlfriend, Marinette. Adrien has been living happily on his own, with frequent visits to the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Marinette is about to enter a design university and already has a thriving online store. Gabriel Agreste is serving a 184 year long sentence (92 on good behavior). Yes, it looks like its all turned out wonderfully for them in the last six years.

Now, if only Adrien could convince Marinette to take things easy, everything would be just perfect...

(While this is the third part in the series, you can skip the first two parts without missing much besides soft fluff)

First Part: Four Times and the Lucky One | Ao3

Second Part: Just Between Us | Ao3

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3. 

Adrien glanced at the clock. Still an hour or two to go before their date for the anniversary, but now was as good a time as any to stop. He slowed down and turned off the treadmill. Just because there wasn’t any supervillains left to fight didn’t mean he should let himself get out of shape, after all. Or maybe it wasn’t so much his superhero instincts as his supermodel instincts.

Either way, the highlights of both those careers were behind him, even if he could still technically be called both.

After getting changed back into his street clothes, Adrien stepped out of the gym and made his way home to take a shower. Or at least, what counted as his home for now. The apartment he lived in was fancier than what Marinette was used to, but it was still a big downgrade from the manor that he had spent his childhood in. He preferred it this way though - there was more life with a few neighbors around, and less space meant less that he had to fill. Besides, he wasn’t there a lot so it didn’t matter much anyway.

A shower, fresh change into nice clothes, some expensive cologne, half an hour making his hair the perfect balance of messy and styled, some extra cheese to keep Plagg fat and lazy, and he was out the door again.

No, the place where he really spent most of his time was where he was headed now - the Dupain-Cheng bakery. The place had practically become his real home years ago. Not long after he started dating Marinette, as a matter of fact. Tom and Sabine weren’t his in-laws… yet. But he was sure they would be someday. In the meantime, they treated him as one of their own, with all the love and affection he never had before.

He almost walked past a flower shop without going inside. Almost. On the bright side, he did refrain from buying Marinette a whole bouquet of flowers. But only because she was very insistent that she was running out of space for them all. Between his lack of impulse control and her green thumb, her small room over the bakery was becoming more like a greenhouse than a bedroom. Instead, he settled for just one flower.

The bakery smelled as delicious and wonderful as it had every day he’d ever gone there. He’d gotten the scent of bread and sweets so associated with the place that just a whiff was enough to make his heart soar. The bell above the door alerted them to his arrival.

Sabine smiled at him as he approached and they shared cheek kisses. “Oh, hello, sweetheart! It’s wonderful to see you again!” She said it was such feeling that Adrien had never doubted her, even if it was always the first thing she said to him every time they saw each other. “Will you be coming over for dinner again this weekend?”

“Of course, maman! How could I refuse such a delicious meal?”

“Is that Adrien?” A man’s booming voice shouted from the kitchen in the back. Tom emerged, a wide grin on his face and flour all over him as he walked toward Adrien.

Adrien’s eyes widened and he held up his hands. “Wait, I-” But it was too late. Tom had picked him up in a great big bear huge and he was lifted so high that his feet dangled off the ground.

“Oh, sorry, son!” Tom had the decency to look down abashedly at the mess he’d made of Adrien’s nice clothes, which were now spotted with flour.

“Don’t worry, papa. This won’t take me long to fix. I got here plenty early,” Adrien flashed a quick smile up at Tom. “Actually, is Marinette here? I could probably use her help.”

“Sure, sure.” Tom waved a hand toward the back door leading into their home. “She’s probably working in her room as we speak.”

He smiled and waved at the both of them before heading upstairs, feeling just like the fourteen year old boy who’d visit after school years ago. He opened her trapdoor and sure enough, there she was. So lost in her commissions that she hadn’t gotten ready for their date yet. Which also meant she hadn’t noticed him yet, and he got to bask in her ‘focus face’ - tongue slightly out, nose scrunched, eyes narrowed - for a little while longer.

While he would’ve been fine missing their reservation if it meant watching her work for a little longer, alas, she eventually noticed him. She fell backwards with a squawk and he rushed forward to give her a hand up.

“Adrien what are you-” She winced. “It’s today, isn’t it?”

He nodded patiently.

“...How long have you been watching?”

“Long enough to remember all over again just how adorable you are.”

She groaned. “I was making the face again wasn’t I?”

He kissed the hand he had taken to help her up. “Precious as always.” He held out the flower he had bought for her, a white tulip. “For you, my lady.”

Her eyebrows scrunched up, but the tension left her face almost immediately as she smelled the flower. She smiled up at him. “My favorite.”

“A tulip for your two lips?” He leaned down and closed his eyes.

“Oh my God, Adrien,” she said, laughing. “Okay, fine, but only because you went through all that effort.” She pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his neck as she did. She pulled away and seemed to notice his suit for the first time. A twinkle of mirth shone in her eyes. “I see papa got a little too excited to see you again.”

“Nothing new there.” He shrugged. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to help a poor boy out…?”

“Sure, just give me a minute to get changed.”

“No problem,” Adrien sat down on her well worn chaise and made no secret of watching her.

“Adrien…”

“Hm…?”

“Downstairs, sunshine.” She sternly pointed at the trapdoor. “I’ll call you back up when I’m ready.” Pouting, he paused every other step to shoot a pleading look at her over his shoulder. Eventually she got tired of him and pushed him forward, laughing. “Go, you tomcat!”

Adrien stepped outside her bedroom and sat on the stairs. Pulling out his phone, he checked the time and double checked his reservation. They still had half an hour to get there and it was close by. Plenty of time. After a few minutes of listening to rustling clothing, the door was opened above him and he walked back in.

“What do you think?”

Adrien’s eyes roved over her light summer dress and its pastel colors. He cupped her cheek with a soft smile.

“As beautiful as ever, lovebug.” He stepped back and offered his arm. “Ready to go?”

She giggled and gestured to his suit. “Forgetting something?”

A glance down reminded him of the flour. “Ah, right. I think I remember you promising me a hand?

After a quick clean up, they walked arm in arm out of the bakery and to their favorite restaurant.

----------------

The night was already going well with good food and a pleasant buzz from their drinks. Conversation was flowing between them, mostly one-sided as Marinette filled him in on everything that had happened since the last time they’d gotten to chat freely the week before. More commissions. Her last shifts at the bakery. Which brought her to the reasons she’d been saving so much money in the first place.

“...So I found an apartment.”

Adrien smiled as he poured both of them another glass of wine. “I can’t wait to see it. How close is it to your university?”

“That’s the best part! It’s within walking distance, just a couple blocks away.” Marinette took a sip of her wine while doing a happy shimmy. “I’ll save on commuting costs, and the rent is super cheap too.”

There was a surge of worry before Adrien quickly smoothed it over. Just because it was cheap didn’t mean it was bad. Maybe she’d just found a good deal was all. And even if it was… lacking… she’d be able to improve it, no problem.

“I’m so happy for you! You’re already ahead of the fashion game with all your contacts and professional experience. Having an education in design will be the final thing you need to really excel in the business. You’re going to do amazing, I just know it!”

“Thanks!” She ducked her head shyly. “I’ve been so nervous about… well, everything, to be honest,” she admitted with a giggle. “In a little under a month, I’ll be out of the bakery and putting my skills to the test. And it’s a pretty prestigious university, so I bet I’ll have some competition too.”

“It’s nothing you can’t handle, princess.” His smile faded as he swirled the last dregs in his wine glass.

He felt her take his other hand and he looked up to see her concerned frown. “I know it’s hard, Adrien, and I’m sorry Nino and Alya couldn’t make it. But you know we’re all right here behind you, all the way.”

He nodded, biting his lips. It’d been two years to the day. They had all met up last year to celebrate... and to forget. Sure, he didn’t expect it to really turn into a yearly tradition, and Alya and Nino had tried their best to make it... but it still stung a little that they couldn’t.

“I’ve been talking your ear off this whole time about what I’m doing. What about you, kitty?” She leaned forward to rest her chin and her hands, looking at him with tender affection in her eyes. “What’s next in life for you?”

Adrien didn’t have an answer for that.

---------------

Full, laughing, and slightly tipsy, Adrien walked Marinette to her front door just as the streetlights began to turn on.

“And you know I’ll be there for you forever and ever and ever, yeah?” He grinned from ear to ear, looking more like Chat Noir than Adrien Agreste in the moment.

“Silly kitty.” She leaned in a little closer. “I think just helping me move in a couple of weeks will be enough.”

His arm snaked around her waist, pressing her flush to him. “Then you can count on my help. Even if I have to carry in a hundred boxes alone.” He pulled back one arm to flex.

She rested her forehead against his chest and laughed. “You’re such a dork.”

“Your dork.”

She hummed in agreement. Rolling onto her toes, she gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. “Good night, Adrien. I love you.”

He sighed happily. “Ahh, that takes me back.” He let her pull away from him. “I love you too, Marinette. Pleasant dreams.”

After flashing him one more smile, she ducked inside and closed the door behind her. Adrien spent a few long moments standing there, grinning like a dork, before a tiny, snide voice from inside his coat pocket drew him out of his reverie.

“You done staring at the woodwork, kid? Or do you want a few more minutes?”

He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t even manage to be exasperated. He was riding high after tonight, and he felt like nothing could drag him down. Not even grumpy cheese cats.

While it wouldn’t take him long to get home as Chat Noir… the summer night was warm and pleasant. He could almost pretend to see the stars above him. It would be a shame not to enjoy a little stroll back to his apartment.

On his way inside, he noticed that he had mail, but was in such a pleasant mood that he didn’t even glance at it until he’d shut his door behind him. As he kicked off his shoes, he finally looked at the envelope.

The prison-issued envelope.

His smile, a semi-permanent fixture on his face ever since heading over the bakery earlier that day, vanished like fog before the dawn. After skimming the contents, he neatly folded it back up and tossed it into a box of depressingly similar letters.

Try as he might, he couldn’t shake off the bad mood. His only consolation as he drifted off to sleep was that at least tomorrow would be a new day.

[vmstudies]

30+ things i learned in my first semester of college

Okay, so as a college freshman in her second semester, I wanted to write all this down before I forget it all or it becomes irrelevant. College is a trippy af time, especially for freshmen, and I know high schoolers are all freaking out trying to find what’s true and what’s not. So here’s what I learned my first semester of college, and some stuff I’m still learning.

Warning: this post is long af. 

disclaimer: I’m a nursing ROTC student so I’ve got like a million and one things on my plate at any given time, and I have a wake up call at 5:00am almost every day of the week, so if you have to/already do wake up early, this will be great for you.

1. Be patient. You’re going to have people around you doing all different things. You may not be going out, but your hall mates will. Learn to let go and let them be. Unless they’re screaming excessively in the hall at 3am. Then maybe say something.

2. Do all the extra credit you are offered. Most professors only have 3-4 exams and a final. At least 99% of mine so far have done that. Take what you can get and do everything to keep your grades up.

3. Time management is key. I personally suck at it, but I find ways. Unfortunately sometimes, for me, it means cutting sleep, which I would not recommend, especially if you’re waking up so early. But learn to manage your time the way that works for you.

4. Find a good pair of headphones. Some noise cancelling ones preferably. Those will become your best friends.

5. Coffee will be other your best friend. Even if you don’t drink it. I never had a single cup of coffee till first week of second semester. I drink a cup a day now.

6. Eat well. It doesn’t have to be a salad every meal, but find the healthiest options you can that you like. The Freshman 15 is real, and I gained it, but I’ve lost 10 pounds just by eating a portioned amount of each food group per day.

7. Exercise. This goes along with eating in preventing the Freshman 15, but it also helps with stress relief and focus among a million and one other health benefits.

8. Take chances. Nothing illegal and nothing that could jeopardize your health, grades, or future, but just remember that when a moment passes, you can never get it back.

9. You don’t have to be best friends, or even friends at all with your roommate. But make an effort to get along. My roommate and I learned very quickly that we were not going to be best friends like we thought, but we get along well enough, and that’s all that matters.

10. You’re probably not going to remain friends with all of your high school pals. Even the ones who go to school with you. I thought the group from my high school at my uni would be my best friends and now I only see them when my roommate brings them by.

11. Take a chance on everyone. You’d be surprised who could become the best friend you’ve ever had very quickly.

12. Colleges will want your living situations for next year very quickly. Don’t panic. Just get it done before rents go up.

13. Look for ways to contribute to your city. Volunteer at churches or food banks or homeless shelters or hospitals - wherever works best for you. You start to feel a part of a community when you give back to it.

14. Skipping class isn’t bad, but only when it’s done a few times. If you only show up for exams, you’re screwed, because there are things on the exam that won’t always be on the PowerPoints. TL;DR: show up to class.

15. Don’t drink after people. Mono runs rampant on college campuses, and it’s now airborne. Hand sanitizer is your third new best friend. 

16. Exam season isn’t that scary. As long as you’re maintaining your grades in a class, the finals should be okay. Should be.

17. Assuming you aren’t a commuter, if you have the ability to go home every weekend, don’t. The weekends are a time for you to hang out with friends and have fun at college. If you’re spending it at home, it’s not even worth it.

18. That being said, if you have the ability to go home “often” and you’re happy and comfortable at home, visit every once in a while. It’s good for the soul.

19. Many professors are there to complete research requirements. That being said, it doesn’t matter to them whether they’re good professors or not so long as they get their work done. That being said, you will have some shitty professors. Just work hard and beat them by beating their class.

20. You will have some professors who are, to put it nicely, absolute dicks. Again: beat them by beating their class. Ace that shit then never sign up for a class with them again.

21. Find the study style that suits you best. Rewriting notes is absolutely useless for me. This semester, my study style has become taking notes in notebooks in my dorm, and just having the PowerPoint up to add notes to the slides as my profs speak. It works.

22. Have someone in every class you can text and ask questions or study with. Cooperate to graduate, kids.

23. This one is huge. You will get homesick. It’s almost a total guarantee. It may not be immediate, but it will hit and it will hit hard. Don’t worry. Nobody’s freshman year is what they say it is. Yeah, you’ll find your group, but chances are you’ll spend the first semester drifting and asking if you’re the one person in the entire world who isn’t enjoying things. You’re not. We’re all in the same boat. Just keep drifting. You’ll find your group eventually. Who knows - they may be closer than you think.

24. Sororities and frats may seem like all that, but - at my university at least - while they’re huge here, they’re also a major pain in the ass. Rush for sororities was literal hell, and one girl I was talking to the other day said she lost 12 pounds in just that one week. Know what you’re getting into.

25. If you’re single and remain that way, don’t worry. There’s nothing wrong with you there either. People move at their own pace. My best friend has, like, 5 guys wanting to date her right now, and I have absolutely no one (that I know of). Don’t worry. Just keep doing what you’re doing. The right one will come eventually.

26. Know what you’re worth.

27. Get to class at least 5 minutes early. I’m always running to my 8:30 and it sucks.

28. 8:30 classes aren’t that bad. As someone who is most definitely not a morning person, I have yet to complain. It’s nice to get up and get going for the day.

29. 6:00pm classes suck. Mine ends at 7:15 and then I still have to go get dinner, which is in the opposite direction from my dorm, get back to my hall, shower, eat aforementioned dinner, do schoolwork and study, etc. It’s a pain.

30. Find something small you can do that makes you happy. For me, it’s Korean. I started teaching myself Korean halfway through last semester and I like to think I’m doing pretty well for someone self-taught. I also have a stack of notecards that hits the 26oz mark on my Nalgene. It’s kind of insane.

31. BUDGETING IS SO FREAKING IMPORTANT. I cannot stress this enough. And so is saving. If you get a paycheck or an allowance of any kind, put some of it away in savings every time you get paid, and try not to touch that savings money.

32. Be open to everyone else’s likes/dislikes/thoughts/feelings/opinions. You don’t have to agree or like it, but respect it. You’ll meet people who have all different hobbies, opinions, religious/political views. As long as they’re not out there preaching that we should all just kill each other or whatever, idk, respect it. Respect Dems if you’re a Republican; respect Republicans if you’re a Democrat. Respect Muslims and Jews and Christians/Catholics and Hindus and Buddhists and anything else you can think of. Respect.

33. Keep your dorm neat. Make your bed every day. Clean room=clean mind. Clean mind=better studying.

34. Do your laundry every week, y’all. Shit gets nasty.

35. Only bring what you need. If you find after 2-3 weeks you haven’t used it, send it home. Dorms are tiny. You need all the space you can get.

36. If you’re religious, find your religious community. It will be a great reprieve a few times a week. I was never overtly Catholic, and I’m still not, but it’s nice to get away for an hour a week. Plus after 5pm mass Sundays they feed us home-cooked food, and it’s freaking good. Take advantage of that.

37. Find a place on campus that reminds you of why you’re there when you have doubts or you’re feeling homesick. For me, it’s the first place I ever saw when I stepped on campus: the main lawn. It’s super relaxing and it’s a great reminder that I’m there to kick ass, get a degree, get a commission, and become the person I’m supposed to be in the process. It can also mean the difference between contemplation and a total breakdown. TL;DR: find a place that eases your mind.

That’s all I can think of right now, but if you have more that I missed, feel free to add on! Again, this is all from my own personal experience, and if you find that you don’t agree with one, okay. One size does not fit all. But this is just what I recommend. Have fun in college and good luck! Remember: YOU GOT THIS THING!

[isitgintimeyet]

Letting Go

AO3

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Thanks for your continued support. Hope you enjoy.

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge and @happytoobservenolongerdistant

Chapter 3: Should I Stay or Should I Go

Darling you got to let me know Should I stay or should I go? If you say that you are mine I'll be here 'til the end of time So you got to let me know Should I stay or should I go?

Joe Strummer/ Mick Jones - The Clash

By Saturday, Claire had made a plan of action. She was determined to spend all day away from the house to avoid any unfortunate run-ins, just in case this Fraser turned out to be her Fraser (no, not ‘her’ Fraser… the Fraser with whom she had, in the past, been acquainted). Uncle Lamb would be at the university, so she arranged for a full day of flat hunting. She was adamant that somewhere out there was the perfect flat for her and by the end of Saturday, she would have found it!

Claire set out early in the morning to work through the list of addresses saved on her mobile, ignoring the greyness of the day and the continuous drizzle across the city. By mid afternoon, her mood matched the Glasgow weather. On paper, each flat looked and sounded perfect. In reality, none of them was what Claire was looking for. She felt like Goldilocks in the children’s fairytale: the flats were either too modern with small, square rooms; too symmetrical and bland; or too industrial with huge loft-style rooms; too harsh and urban. All her hopes were pinned on the last property on her list -- one of 4 flats in a classic Victorian townhouse.

As soon as she climbed the steps to the grand front door and stepped into the common hallway dominated by the large staircase with wrought iron bannister, Claire knew this was the place. Entering the flat just confirmed her first impression, the large living room was bright and airy with high ceilings and large bay windows. Claire wandered round the rest of the flat, picturing how her furniture would fit exactly into it. The estate agent trailed quietly behind her, sensing a deal was in the offing.

Finally, he spoke up. “It’s jes’ come on the market and I dinna think it will be on fer long. No chain, the owner’s jes’ moved tae Australia. Aye, left everything tae be wi’ his girlfriend, she’s Australian, ye ken. In fact…”

ClaIre interrupted him, his story touching a nerve she thought had long ago been cauterised. “And it’s fixed price, not offers over, then? Well, yes. This is it. Can we go to your office and get the ball rolling then?”

************

Claire let herself in and headed down the hallway to her uncle’s study. She knew that’s where he would be. Knocking gently before entering, she found Lamb in his usual position, staring out of the window at the garden, now pruned and manicured. Several boxes lay around the room, a half-hearted attempt to fill them had obviously been abandoned.

“I’ve bought a flat, Uncle.” There was genuine excitement in her voice.

“And I’ve rented the house out. That couple… they want it. Mr… er… the agent chap rang here to tell us. As soon as possible, he said.” Lamb’s voice sounded hoarse.

Claire tried to raise his spirits. “It’s only for a couple of years, and then you’ll be back here. As if you’d never been away.”

“Yes, but, my darling girl, I feel like I’ve let you down. This is your home… was your home and I’m taking it away from you.”

Claire perched on the edge of the desk and rested her hand on Lamb’s arm. “Uncle, you’ve never let me down. You’ve always been there for me, ever since I was a little girl. And maybe this was the push I needed to move forward. I’ll be happy in that flat, I know I will.”

She looked around the study. “So, come on, no more moping. Let’s get sorted.”

************

The next few weeks were a maelstrom of activity. Paperwork, packing, measuring up, in addition to Claire’s work at the hospital, took up all of her days and a fair few nights as well. She didn't ask the agent or her uncle anything about the new tenants, didn't even glance at the tenancy agreement, and cast aside any troubling thoughts on the reasons behind this reluctance.

The day for the move quickly arrived. Claire and Lamb stood together on the pavement, watching quietly as all their worldly goods were divided into three trucks -- one for Lamb in his university accommodation, one for storage and one for Claire in her new flat. She thanked her lucky stars that her flat had such well proportioned rooms, so that she could use large pieces of furniture from the house.

Finally the trucks were closed up and sent on their ways. Claire and Lamb stood awkwardly, not knowing quite what to say.

“Well,” Lamb broke the silence. “It’s going to be strange, not being together here.”

Claire tried to lighten his mood. “But we’ll probably see each other just as much. Remember days and days can pass without us meeting up, with my shifts and you stuck in your work. Don’t be sad. Just think, you’ll be that much closer to the university archives and anyway, I’m coming round for tea in a couple of days. You can’t get rid of me that easily, you know.”

She hugged him tightly, inhaling the familiar aroma of his jacket, remembering the comfort from his arms wrapped tightly around her as a little girl, the rough fabric of his favourite tweed jacket scratching her cheek.

She pulled away and quickly headed to the taxi. Time to go.

*********

As anticipated, Claire arrived at her new home before the removal men. She wandered across her (her!) own hallway when a head appeared around her front door.

“Morning. Welcome, new neighbour. Wondered if you’d like a coffee… or tea? I’m Mary, by the way. I live across the landing.” Mary moved into the hall and shook Claire’s hand.

“Hello, I’m Claire. Claire Beauchamp. And yes, thanks, I’d love a coffee.”

“Ah, another English interloper, I see. Be right back. How do you like your coffee?” Mary called over her shoulder as she headed out of the door.

“Black, no sugar, please.”

“Ooh, hardcore!”

Mary returned a few minutes later with the mugs of coffee, closely followed by another woman. It was obvious they were sisters; there was a strong family resemblance, and yet somehow the features changed between the two. Only slightly, but enough to make the difference. The newcomer’s hair was just that little bit shinier, her lips that bit fuller, her eyes that bit brighter. She was radiant, Claire decided, even wearing those baggy jogging bottoms and faded t-shirt.

“Hi,” the newcomer spoke. “I’m Anna, Mary’s sister. We’re just across the landing and you’re Claire?”

“Yes, nice to meet you.”

“Oh, wow, poor Mrs Crook.” Anna and Mary laughed.

Claire felt bemused. “I’m sorry?”

“No, sorry, we should explain…” Anna spoke, a hint of laughter in her voice. “Mrs. Crook lives in the flat below you. She’s been here for years and years, a lovely, sweet ‘wee wifey’ and John lives in the flat below us. John’s English, too… so poor Mrs. Crook. Here in the centre of Glasgow, yet surrounded by us Sassenachs.”

An uninvited memory stirred in Claire’s brain… fingers touching copper curls, blue eyes heavy with desire, heated breath on her neck, a whisper in her ear: “Sassenach…”

“Hello, Miss Beauchamp… ye there?” The voice came from the main hallway downstairs. “Can we start tae bring yer stuff up, love?”

Claire pushed the memory back in its box. Clearly, it was all due to the move, stirring up lots of conflicting emotions. Nothing more.

She smiled at Anna and Mary. “Think that’s my cue… now the hard work begins!”

*************

Jamie stood for a moment on the pavement, looking up at the house. He had wondered, when Murtagh texted the address, whether his memory had been playing tricks. But no, now he was here standing right in front of his past. He glanced up at the top left hand window, almost expecting it to open and her head to appear, curls blowing medusa-like while she frantically waved.

He took a deep breath and walked towards the front door. It opened before he had a chance to knock. Suddenly he was enveloped in his godfather’s arms.

“Christ, Jamie lad, it’s sae good tae see ye. How long has it been? Come in, come in, I want ye tae meet ma wife, Jocasta.”

Jamie followed Murtagh into the house. “And it’s grand tae see ye too. It’s been ten years since ye upped and left us fer New Zealand. Ye havena changed a bit.”

“Aye well, ye have. Ye were nought but a lad, and still wet behind the ears, when I left. Look at ye now. America obviously suited ye.”

Murtagh led Jamie towards the kitchen at the back of the house. Of course, the furniture was different than he remembered, but the decor had remained the same. He thought of the hours he had spent in this kitchen, sharing drinks and food with her. Laughing and chatting together until late, and then, by silent agreement, making their way up the stairs to that bedroom, constantly touching, always a connection, never wanting to be apart.

A different woman was waiting in the kitchen with the coffee ready to pour and a bottle of Glenmorangie placed on the table. No longer in the first flush of youth, she was still very handsome, and obviously took pains to remain so. Murtagh snaked his hand around her waist and pulled her close to him.

“Jamie, I’d like tae present ma wife, Jocasta… Jocasta, this is Jamie, ma godson, Brian’s lad. We’re no’ the only ones returning tae the homeland, ye ken. Jamie’s jes back from America… been there fer, what? Six years?”

“Eight years, Murtagh. Eight years”

Jocasta pulled away from Murtagh's grasp and gave Jamie a big hug. “Welcome, lad, sae nice tae meet ye. I’ve heard an awfa lot about ye. And yer Da is that proud of ye, is he no’, Murtagh?”

Murtagh, busy pouring generous measures of whisky into three glasses, looked up at the mention of his name. “What? Och, aye, Brian is that pleased ye’re headin’ back tae Lallybroch. It’ll be a big help tae him. He’s no’ the man he was.”

“And ye’ll always be welcome here when ye want tae come and spend time in Glasgow. We have sae many bedrooms here. Weel, too many really. The house is too big fer us, but after the feeling of open spaces in New Zealand, we dinna want tae feel boxed in, ye ken?”

Jamie sipped at his whisky and watched Murtagh and Jocasta -- their loving glances and slight touches filled him with happiness for his godfather, who had been alone for so long before finally meeting Jocasta two years ago.

“Excuse me, I must jes’ use the bathroom.” Jamie began to walk out of the kitchen.

“Would it no’ help if I told ye where the bathroom was? Quite a big house, may take ye a while tae find it wi’out directions.” Murtagh called after him. “Turn left and head down that passageway, second door on yer right.”

“Oh… er… Aye. Thanks.”

On his return to the kitchen, Jamie found Murtagh and Jocasta at the french windows engrossed in conversation as they gazed over the garden, now somewhat neater than he remembered.

“... so we could put a bench over there tae catch the morning sun fer our coffee at breakfast…”

“... and we could have the fire pit over there fer the evenings. But we’d need tae move that swing…”

******

Nine years ago

“You know, when I first moved here after my parents died, this swing was the first thing Uncle Lamb bought for me. I think he wanted to show me this was my home too. I always loved this swing.”

“Sit on it. I’ll push ye if ye like.”

“Jamie, don’t be silly. I’ve not been on that swing in years. I’m not even sure it’s safe… I remember how I used to try and go as high as possible -- do a loop-the-loop. Not sure what would have happened if I’d ever managed it. Just fallen off, I guess.”

“Come on. Have a go. I’ll give ye a push. Ye dinna need tae worry about falling, ye ken, I’m here tae catch ye… always.”

******

“No!” Jamie interrupted more forcefully than intended. “Dinna move the swing.”

Murtagh and Jocasta both turned and stared at him. He felt his face flush.

“Why ever no’ dear?” Jocasta asked. “It’s no’ but a rickety old swing. I’m sure it hasna been used in years.”

Eight years, perhaps, Jamie thought. “I dinna ken. It jes’ feels right there, like it belongs. I’m sure the owner would miss it.” He spoke quietly. “I mean, even though they dinna see it, mebbe they jes’ like tae know it’s still there.”

Murtagh looked at him with concern and cleared his throat. “Jamie, lad, are ye drunk or jes’ gone soft in the head?”

[marylorson-blog]

“Rolling Thunder”  excerpted from Signals: a performance memoir 

                                      Featured May 2020 on          Unfictional https://www.kcrw.com/culture/shows/unfictional

I wasn't a bastard but I still felt kind of illegitimate. Dad and Mom had eloped, three months after meeting. My sisters from Mom’s first marriage loved him like mad, but then one day Dad vanished, before I could form a single memory of him. 

I've always wondered why that day was the finale. How do you walk away from a beaming little two-year-old face, one that looks like you?   I was there, but unaware. I want the scene.   

My sisters say: Dad was great.  

Mom says: All you need to know is he walked away. 

Dad said: Mom kicked him out that day, that he crammed his suits and stereo into the Mustang  and rushed to the city for a meeting, paying a kid twenty bucks to guard the car, which was empty anyway when he came back out. 

Later, once I knew him, I asked: “Was there another woman?”  

His answer: “There must have been.”   

THEY BLAMED IT ALL ON ALCOHOL. 

Mom said: infidelity wasn't the only problem; unofficial-seeming “bill collectors” were showing up at the house.  

My sisters said: Dad made life fun, played the piano, adored Mom. But skillets and invectives would fly in the night...and then Dad went missing, with hundreds of thousands of some investor’s dollars. 

By the time my sisters were 8, 10 and 11, they had lost two fathers.    

Mom hadn’t worked since modeling before her first marriage. She borrowed tuition for a full-time secretarial course and sent me to stay with her brother, another charming alcoholic with money problems and a fed-up wife. Mom and the girls stayed behind, in the lovely house on Manor Lane. 

I rejoined them fifteen months and few blocks but a world away, in a garden apartment behind the Country Club. Mom kept the crystal chandelier and her gown from the Kennedy Inaugural, and a suite of heavy furniture that wasn’t made for small rooms. 

Sometime later, Dad called Mom for a friendly chat. He was glad to hear she was in love and admitted that he and his girlfriend had a baby. He asked her to sign some papers for a Tijuana divorce. Sure, Mom said, and I’ll take the trip too. She came back with castanets and a tan. I remember understanding that my parents would never get back together.

I had Dad's nose and hair and musicality, but couldn’t remember a thing about him. Mom said I was lucky I didn't know what I was missing. The older girls talked about their happy chapter with my dad all the time, but I’d wait alone out front for the Mustang that didn't come.  

One day, though, he showed, and this was my own first memory of Dad: Christmastime, Chinatown, and three wrapped presents: a Dancerina doll, a Polaroid Swinger, and a camel hair coat from Saks. The surviving Polaroids show a serious dad and a manically happy me.

Dad promised that now he was going to bring all his kids together regularly. He'd repeat this song on our scattershot dates over the years, but that visit WAS the beginning, of our intermittent, fond, indulgent, dishonest bond.  After that, I lived in obsessive anticipation of the next visit, never knowing when it would be. 

(Band in)

A Dancerina doll, a Polaroid Swinger, and a camel hair coat from Saks. Dad gave me these, and went back to wherever he went.

During Kindergarten: I roomed with Mom, but she was out most nights. The big girls had the other bedroom. I wasn’t allowed in, but from the other side of the door I’d smell and listen attentively. Incense, patchouli, cigarettes, maybe pot? Talking, laughing, singing Joni Mitchell, CSNY...yelling, hitting, screaming, cursing. I swear I could hear the brushing of their long tresses, the swinging of their unhindered double-D breasts...meanwhile people kept mistaking me for a boy.

“You have your father’s thin hair,” Mom complained, so she took me to the barber on the corner, who gave me a buzz cut... and rationalized it this way: “It don't matta if she looks bad now; it mattas what she looks like when she's 18.” Mom thought this was a riot. There was none of this “you're beautiful because you're you” bullshit with Mom. You either looked good, or you didn't. 

THERE IN THE CATHODE LIGHT, NOBODY BEAMED UP BRIGHT                      ENOUGH FOR HER TO LIKE  NOONE TO WALK BESIDE 

YEAH, YOU HARDLY KNEW US                                       

 THAT WAS JUST OUR LIFE/THAT WAS JUST OUR LIFE

Then, In first grade we moved to Carol Avenue, and I almost had another sister!

 Jeanne! Jeanne! Jeanne! Jeanne!....Jeanne!

We had a great time together.

MOM MET HER FATHER AT THE GIANT STEP

A PIANO BAR IN NEW ROCHELLE                                   

SHE'D GOT MY DEADBEAT DAD THE GIG, 

AND HE SHOWED  UP                                                           

WENT DOWN SO SHE COULD GRAB THE TIPS, 

AND LET ADMIRERS BUY HER DRINKS                                  

LED BY THE VERY HANDSOME ED DESONNE

Mom was passionate and needed a rescue; Ed DeSonne was a prosperous investment banker. Both were raising broods of four alone. Ed wasn’t divorced yet, but soon he and Mom got engaged, and we were going to be like the Brady Bunch, with martinis. In the meantime, he was paying the rent on our roomy townhouse on Carol Avenue...

YEAH, IT'S NEVER SIMPLE

BUT WE'LL GIVE IT A TRY; MAYBE BE ALRIGHT

Jeanne too was the youngest of four. She was fearless and funny, and once the parents were married, she would be my roommate. But until then, I had to spend a few more nights with one or another of my unwilling sisters.  One such Saturday, Knockout Diane was supposed to watch me while Shy Karen sister went to a party, but Diane sneaked out. Karen wailed, but Mom had plans with Ed, who arrived in a cloud of aftershave and tapped his shiny toe in the foyer. Mom appeared in glamorous good cheer and ordered me to kiss him. I didn't wanna. 

“Go ahead: give him a little kiss,” Mom said, and Ed reached out gamely, but I wound back and fired a fierce little first-grade kick right into his suited shin. 

Today we'd say I was “acting out.” But back then, everybody just yelled. Then the grownups... went out. And the television...went on.  And then: Ed DeSonne disappeared, changing the channel on a whole other level.

 ED, WE HARDLY KNEW YE…

In first grade you learn to add 2 plus 2. I overheard the word “funeral” and didn’t see Jeanne’s dad for a week; these factors equalled --to me-- that he was dead. When Mom announced it, the big girls wailed like the world was ending. But I just said: “I know.”

I wasn't glad Ed was dead, but I wasn't sad, either. I didn't know how much we lost.         

Mom told everyone the aneurysm happened while Ed was driving; years later she told me the rest of the story.  She also told me that, in her grief, she'd called MY DAD, as a friend, and that he'd sneaked away to be there with her at Ed's funeral.

In the instant it takes for a blood vessel to pop, Mom became bereft, unemployed, and homeless. And our family dispersed like seeds in the wind. 

Diane went to live with her father in the city. The rest of us were taken in by another divorcee with a sun-porch we shared for the nervous, chilly months it took Mom to save up a security deposit.  Karen cried endlessly,  Mom cooing in her ear and breaking Valiums in half.  Fightin’ Joni moved in with her best friend. I got caught standing on our hosts’ kitchen counter in my loafers, stealing cookies from their Charles Chips tin.

But worst of all, Jeanne was sent into foster care.   

I only saw her once again after that, but we’re Facebook friends now. 

While we were staying with the other family, Dad got tickets for the TV show "Wonderama", for me and our host's daughter, and she won the big prize! Our moms picked us up, tipsy on high heels, loading the prizes in the back of a Checker, ignoring candy-starved Moonies in white shirts and dark blazers who tried to sell us carnations.  

(BEAT, then energy back down)

Mom found an apartment. It was in Tuckahoe, so we switched schools. I was in 2nd grade; Joni, 7th; Karen, 9th. I got sent to the principal's office for wearing pants; he showed me a paddle, said next time he'd use it. But maybe it wasn't just the trousers. 

Men landed on the moon. “Evil Ways” was in heavy rotation. And “Spinning Wheel.” Our apartment sat at a dead end by a highway. At night the passing cars projected an abstract slide show on our bedroom wall. In the living room, Mom would light a candle and drink wine. The apartment often smelled of the burned bottom of a saucepan.

That Christmas Eve, Mom fell asleep and the candles burned all the way down, through the tablecloth, and into the nice oak table. I woke up when the fire department arrived. 

YEAH, WE HARDLY KNEW YOU//IT WAS JUST OUR LIFE/THAT WAS JUST OUR LIFE

Karen was 15 and wanted privacy; I was seven and wanted company. One day these opposing desires clashed at a bedroom door, both sides pushing until the big kid won, my middle finger slammed in the door jamb.

The top was hacked completely off. Mom raced me to New Rochelle Hospital, where the surgeon told her to retrieve the tip of my finger or I'd have a stump for the rest of my life. Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Karen tried to flush my finger, along with her shame and horror, down the toilet.

Thanks to low-rent plumbing, my fingertip didn't disappear, and the toilet water even kept it alive. Mom carried it in a baggie back to the surgeon, who successfully reattached it. (Now, there’s a parent's errand.) They kept me in the hospital for a week, because I was hyperactive and the doctor feared I'd bang the stitches open.

It's possible I was on painkillers, because when Dad appeared he was like a dream, swinging down the hall with his great suit and smiling blue eyes.  He'd stopped at the gift shop, and gotten me a dozen long stemmed American Beauty roses and a music box. When you opened it, a ballerina pirouetted to this song: 

OH, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL MORNING/ OH, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY/I'VE GOT A BEAUTIFUL FEELING/EVERYTHING'S GOING MY WAY 

The roses died, of course. I kept that box, though, long after the ballerina broke off and the inside felt was smutty with lipgloss and melted JollyRanchers. Didn’t see Dad again for another 4 years..