#Just...seeing this middle aged man doing important business work while wearing cat ears that have silly vaporwave themed rgb lights is so

[steampunk-llama]

My dads been using my cat ear headphones for work (comfy for computer sessions) and I'm losing my mind bc when he wears glasses he looks like Walter White.

Heisenberg Gaming real

[peachyteez]

little wanderer ≫ DAY FIVE, THE MAN DRESSED IN BLACK.

this fellow stray cat hybrid has been hanging around jiyu’s condo for as long as he could remember, although jiyu may not have noticed him. the cold winter breeze and jiyu’s open bedroom window prompts him to sneak into her bedroom one night. it was just suppose to be one night, but the gods must’ve been smiling upon him.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @jaeminpeachy, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @alienmashup, @panini, @moon8894, @koasworld, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha, @treasure-hwa, @etherealbyeol, @hwaseongzzz, @lovely-sanie, @orbitiiny, @pirate-of-the-dark-seas, @babydolljo, @ms-starlight, @everrrlasting, @bls-luv-me, @atzgiggle, @arohabyeol, @rainbowmagicpixecorn, @soverystupid, @ayetothezee, @kingalls00, @sanstreasure0305, @sparklingmallow, @kpopnightingale, @rosesarethebest, @stillcantfindaproperusername, @bonbonhwa, @its-sarah-stark, @sanismybb, @frankenstein852, @peachseok, @woopetals, @exhofayemars, @pvrkacciosan, @c-sanshine

✧ notes: well this chapter took a turn 😭

✧ WARNING(S): mentions of misogyny, brief story of san attacking someone, a curse word (?)

back。|  next。

if jiyu had a dollar for every time she had been woken up in the middle of the night in the past week—well, she wouldn’t be rich, but she’d have a substantial amount of pocket change. 

“jiyu!” mingi whispered, gently shaking her out of her slumber. “wake up!”

groaning, she habitually scooted over to make room on the bed since mingi usually wandered into her room in the middle of the night due to nightmares. “just don’t take all the blanket—”

“no! this is urgent!” he frantically tried explaining. “i think someone’s trying to break in!”

her eyes instantly shot open and she immediately sat right up in bed. “mingi, why didn’t you just start with that?” she frantically whispered back, hurriedly slipping on a hoodie. 

“i tried, but you kept grumbling!”

“okay, we’ll have this conversation again later. let’s just see if the others are awake.” slowly opening her bedroom door, she and mingi peeked their heads out to see if anyone was outside. while they didn’t see anyone, they heard footsteps and clutters out by the front door. 

mingi clutched onto her hoodie as his eyes clamped shut out of terror and his ears were slumped down. jiyu took his hand in her’s and rubbed comforting circles on his knuckles. “shh, it’s okay mingi.”

while whispering to mingi, she noticed the others tip-toeing towards them as to not alert the perpetrator that they were awake. being the predator hybrids, seonghwa, hongjoong, and yeosang were on full alert. yunho scurried over to her and mingi, quietly whimpering, while san stood and frowned at the front door.

“i didn’t think they’d come so soon...” he mumbled once he caught whiff of the familiar human scent.

“was this the one that hurt you?” hongjoong whispered. 

san nodded. “he works for my...old owners. i thought he stopped tracking me down a while ago until the other night.” he looked to the floor, guilt flashing across his features. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to drag you into my affairs—”

jiyu interrupted while holding onto yunho and mingi. “san, i’ve mentioned it before, we chose to help you, meaning we won’t abandon you even if we’re also pulled into danger. so don’t apologize, okay?” 

seeing her small smile of reassurance, his guilt multiplied. but he couldn’t do anything about it now, so he just nodded while promising himself that he wouldn’t let a single hair on their heads get hurt. even if he would be the one to take the blunt of the pain.

“oi, choi san! i know you’re in there.”

they all froze at the unknown voice from the front door.

“why don’t you open the door and we can just talk this out like grown men?”

san climbed down the stairs and stood a distance away from the front door. seonghwa and hongjoong followed in case. “you beat me to a pulp the last time, and now you just want to talk? i don’t think so,” he hissed. 

the person on the other side let out a low chuckle. “ah, apologies for that. although you and i both know that it’d be a shame if you were too badly...injured. they do want you alive and well, after all. i can’t kill you, san.”

a moment of silence passed as they all held their breaths, anticipating the next move. but much to their surprise, the person showed no signs of breaking down the front door and wreaking havoc. 

“in all seriousness, san, i really did come to talk. no weapons, just to talk.”

“seonghwa,” jiyu whispered down to the wolf hybrid. “you can check the security camera over there,” she pointed to her tablet that was on the living room table. luckily, when they had first moved in, she had installed two security cameras, both so small to the human eye that anyone would just gloss over it. 

“and again, what makes you think i’d believe you?” san asked, while watching the wolf hybrid from the corner of his eye. seonghwa pulled up the security footage to see a man wearing a long, black trench coat, and his face was obscured by a black fedora hat. he stood with his hands in his pockets, and his overall figure practically screamed danger. 

suddenly, the man took out folded papers from his pockets and held it up—almost as if he knew they were watching him. “because i came with something that you’ve been after ever since you left.”

san’s eyes widened and his body froze. there’s no way—

“so what’s the move?” hongjoong asked to both san and jiyu. 

judging from his reaction, jiyu had a hunch that whatever the unknown man brought was really important to san. she didn’t know what it was, but looking at the security footage, he didn’t seem like he was hiding anything. and his voice, she could be hearing things, but it seemed as if it held a tinge of remorse.

“carefully open the door,” she decided. “but don’t let your guard down.”

despite looking he had some objections, hongjoong and seonghwa carefully walked ahead of san, who was still frozen in spot, and cracked the door open. they both anticipated either gunshots or the person to come barging through them, but they both peeked out to see the man standing there patiently.

“oh? i see you made some friends,” he commented. “meaning...you’re taking refuge with another human?”

“try anything funny, i’ll make sure you never step out of here alive,” seonghwa snarled before opening the door wide enough for the man to come in. hongjoong stood eyed the man suspiciously, as he waltzed in, stopping in front of san. 

with a better look at the man, they all noticed a mask that covered up to his eyes. the man was tall, but falling just a little short of yunho’s height, and he seemed to be in his mid-thirties or late-twenties. 

despite being terrified out of there wits, and even though yeosang was standing protectively by them, mingi and yunho stood in front of jiyu, scared that the man would try to harm her. but their shaking didn’t go unnoticed from her. she held their hands, hoping it could comfort them.

“i see you’ve aged well,” the man noted, looking san up and down. “to be quite honest, i’m surprised you managed to survive out on the streets all these years. i—no we, were sure you’d give up and come back.”

“as if i’d ever go back,” san lowly, but firmly stood his ground.

the man smirked before taking a look around at each of them. “so where’s your little human friend?”

she stepped out from behind yunho and mingi before peering down over the railings. “what business do you have here?” with the exception of yunho and seonghwa, they were all surprised at her composed and level-headed state.

letting out a huff of disbelief, he started straight up at her. “i wasn’t expecting a woman.”

“hm, sorry to disappoint then,” she sneered.

she was used to the misogynistic treatment; even back at home, people always underestimated her abilities since she was a girl. she’s heard the comments, backhanded compliments, and seen the undermining looks as people doubted her. but she swore to prove them wrong one day, even though she took five years off.

“so again, what do you want here?”

the man chuckled again at her defensive tone before holding his hands up. “i come in peace, ma’am.”

“and for your own sake, i hope that’s true,” she bit back before coming down the stairs. she left mingi and yunho with yeosang. the man let out an airy chuckle before making himself comfortable on the couch, aware of seonghwa’s and hongjoong’s preying gaze on him. 

“...did you really bring it?” san asked, not wanting to get his hopes up. this was the same man that hunted him down for years on end, yet he came here, claiming that he managed to retrieve the items san really wanted? it was near to impossible that he was telling the truth, but there was that sliver of hope.

bringing out the papers once again, the man laid it on the coffee table in front of him. “you can check for yourself. i may work for them, but i’m a man of my word.”

jiyu waltzed over and peered at the papers the man laid out. her eyebrows furrowed at the contents. his birth certificate and adoption forms? 

coming up next to her, san stared at the forms with widened eyes. they were indeed what he had been after for the past few years, and the man really did bring it to him. so many questions ran through his head that he couldn’t even form a single sentence. the home was dropped into a tense silence, the only sound being the ticking of the clock above the dining table. 

seconds turned into a minute before san could croak out a sentence, or rather, a question. “b-but, why—”

“i’ve had a lot of time—years—to think,” the man leaned back on the couch and stared up at san. “it’s pretty stupid and childish to chase you down for something that wasn’t even your fault, don’t you think?”

san was still cautious. “so you took these for me to do...what?”

“well, what do you think?” the man leaned forward, resting his arms in his lap.

jiyu’s eyes slightly widened with surprise. “you want to set him free, don’t you...” 

“that’s one way of putting it, yes.”

“there’s a catch, there’s always a catch,” san sarcastically scoffed. “no way you’d give these to me for free after all these years—”

the man let out an exasperated sigh before leaning back on the couch and throwing his hands over his face. “oh my god, i ended my contract with them, you fucking idiot.”

san just silently stared at the man with the most comedic look on his face—widened eyes and his jaw slacked open like it was unhinged. meanwhile, jiyu just facepalmed at the revelation. 

“now why didn’t you just open with that?” she grumbled. leaving out important information seemed to be the night’s theme. 

“i thought i’d make it a little more fun. it’s not all that fun to just say my piece and go, now don’t you think?” the man mused before standing up. “my contract was ensued until i brought you back. i just told them a little white lie about how your trails went cold after a while so i just assumed you were dead. and poof, took these and left,” he gestured to the papers on the table.

“...will they still look for him though?” jiyu asked, unsure that they’d just give up looking for san just like that. 

“probably not. they were one to never get their hands dirty anyways. especially since their daughter’s in the hospital—”

san tensed at the mention of hospital, something that certainly didn’t go unnoticed by the man. “so she doesn’t know, does she?” he referred to jiyu. “or all of them for that matter.” at some point along the way, yeosang, mingi, and yunho had joined them downstairs, yet they still stuck close to yeosang just in case things went downhill again.

san silently shook his head, mentally preparing for the worst when they found out about his sins. 

“san here,” the man started, “is the one that put the family’s only daughter in the hospital.”

they glanced at san with the same thought. how did a cat hybrid manage to put a human in the hospital?

“to put it short, something provoked him to go feral, and he ended up attacking her until she almost bled out. we don’t know what provoked him to this day, but the family turned on him after that incident. and since he has no memories of the moments right before and when he was feral, it was hard for him to defend himself, so he ran away.”

taking a look at san, who looked like he just wanted to disappear, she felt her heart ache for him. he’s been alone for so long...all because of a potential misunderstanding. 

“either way, i’m still the reason she’s been injured for so long. not only physically, but probably mentally, too. imagine the trauma from being attacked by a feral hybrid.” a deprecating chuckle escaped san’s lips. 

seeing him look so down, she stroked his head. “hey, it wasn’t your fault. hybrids can’t help themselves when they go feral. it’s like you’re trapped out of your own body, so don’t blame yourself. you might have attacked her, but it wasn’t you.”

it was amazing to him how reassuring her words were, and how it was so easy for him to almost believe. there always will be that small part of him that will always blame himself for what happened, whether he liked it or not.

the man stood up and brushed his pants. “i believe i’ve overstayed my welcome, so i’ll take my leave now,” he bowed to the six of them. “and i apologize for the fright i might’ve caused.”

before the man could open the door to leave, san felt compelled to at least thank him for what he’s done. “wait! thank you...for everything...”

after a moment’s pause, the man turned around, and judging from how his eyes turned upward, it seemed as though he was smiling. “it was the least i could do after everything i’ve put you through the last few years. i’ll see you around, choi san.”

and with that, the man took his leave. 

once he closed the door, he heard their muffled voices, most likely discussing san’s future. he smiled before looking up to the sky. “well now, where am i to go next?”

[omg-baeyoung-baeran]

Maybe I Should Resign: Chapter 2

Not a single person inside the company got past the thorough investigation, yet all the results they got were negative. It was as if the document just suddenly disappeared on its own without a trace. The only evidence in hand proving it was truly stolen was the loop video they found a week ago, resulting in several employees getting fired due to their inexcusable poor performance.

Jumin twirled the pen around his fingers. “Things have not been going on smoothly, I presume?” He stared at the fidgeting man sitting across him.

“We apologize, Mr. Han, but this thief is well-prepared and is quite knowledgeable in hacking to have accessed the system. The only thing we can suggest now is investigation of those who visited the company and those employees that have left the company, from the time the chairman placed it in drawer 7 until the date the document was found missing.”

A suffocating aura surrounded the miserable man while an intimidating silence filled the entire room. Anyone who was familiar with the chairman and his son knew how the latter hated inconvenience with a passion. Jumin Han may be a patient man, but issues extending beyond his expected time of resolve have always been aggravating to his tolerance.

Heaving a sigh of resignation, he waved the employee away. “I want it done three days from now. Provide me a list of possible suspects. Those who get cleared must be reconfirmed thrice, and I expect a complete report about the suspects Tuesday next week. Is everything clear?”

“Yes, Mr. Han.”

As the man’s retreating figure exited the door, his attention shifted to the cat stamp on his desk, staring at him with its big, cartoon-like golden eyes. Things had been hectic lately that he forgot he placed it there. “How fortunate… toys have no worries,” he said, lids drooping from exhaustion.

But what is life to be lifeless?

Unlike objects, he gets to experience life as a social being, and it is freedom which gives life a pleasant taste. It is natural for men to seek freedom when they are under extreme limiting control,  since they are blessed with free will; however, it is unnatural for men to seek too much liberation for it causes chaos. There is such a thing as greed for freedom, but there is no such thing as peaceful freedom without restraint; balance is important.

He considered himself to be fairly balanced….

But what is this strange yearning?

“I must be missing Elizabeth the Third.” He rested his cheek on the back of his hand, grabbing the cat stamp with his other and stamping it on a scratch paper. To his surprise, the cat opened its mouth—a message rolling out of its tongue.

“You’re special! Stay happy!”

He scoffed. It was undeniable. The message was just cringeworthy.

Still, for some reason, a small smile made its way to his lips.

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

She was a person of mistake. From touching the iron—when her mother told her not to during her younger days—to quitting a job because of a huge mistake–quitting the job itself was a huge mistake too. Apparently, even smaller jobs do not come easily as well. A long, devastated sigh escaped her pinkish lips.

“I’m sorry, Grandmother, to leave you this soon… but I don’t want to burden you when I’m jobless,” she sobbed dramatically, earning her a chuckle from the elder woman.

“Don’t be sorry now. Your mother needs you at home for sure, so you’re actually doing her a favour coming back.”

“But I need to earn for the family.”

“I know, my dear. But it seems like fate is leading you back home. Everything will eventually pass just as this problem of yours. You’ve gone through so many difficulties before, so why not believe you’ll overcome this too in time?”

Hannah pouted at her grandmother. “I just want to be able to provide enough for my family… I want them to live comfortably,” she grumbled, “Mom has already made a lot of sacrifices for us, and I just want to be able to provide for them, so she could get the chance to use her money and time to spend it on things she wants.”

“Your mother is spending her money and time on things she loves… or rather ‘people’ she loves.”

This made her look up from the ground and gaze at her grandmother’s gentle eyes. She may not have the luck to enjoy luxurious things in life, but she has the luxury of a loving family… and to her, that is more special than what all precious stones can offer. With teary eyes, Hannah stood up from the couch and gave her a loving embrace.

“I’ll miss you.” Those words left her with a smack on the head.

“I’m old but don’t talk like I’m running out of time!”

She left to go back home to her little town the following day…

...unaware of the man in black who came to visit the humble abode later.

Coming back home, she felt the wind brushing against her cheeks; the memories of her past greeted her along with it. It was a small town, so people were fairly acquainted with one another. It would have been pleasant to know everyone in the neighbourhood, but because of the small population, gossips tend to spread like wildfire. Everyone was into each other’s business, and it can be utterly frustrating. 

“Sister!” Two kids called from afar, one with chin-length blonde hair and blue eyes, while the other having red hair and green eyes. Before she could even prepare for it, two small bodies crashed against her, their laughter filling her ears.

“We missed you!” Sana, the blonde, squealed and wrapped her arms more tightly around her waist.

“Hey! Sis can’t breathe!” Riri, the redhead, pulled their younger sister away from the breathless brunette. “She just arrived and you’re already killing her.”

The two kids continued to bicker in front of her, but what caught her eye was their approaching mother slowly making her way towards them.

“Sana, Riri, come here and let your sister rest inside. You can disturb her when she has fully settled.”

The whines from the two made her giggle. They had not changed since the last time she was home. She ruffled their hair and led them back into their home, their mother walking closely behind.

People turned their heads to their direction, accompanied by whispers she could barely hear. It was an attention a family with different appearances would garner. She thought she might get used to it, though they were proving it to be difficult.

A crestfallen look marred her face. “Sorry, Mom,” she started, “I lost my job.”

There was a pause. Hannah hung her head down, too ashamed to face her mother who was already struggling to make ends meet.

They continued to walk but no one dared to speak, until her mother let out a heavy sigh.

“I don’t know why you’re wearing such a long face. I’m just happy you safely returned home and well. You can always get another job, Hun. Always have hope." The older woman placed a comforting hand on her daughter’s back. “We’ve been struggling for a long time, but look at us… we’re still alive till this day. That should be enough to give us hope, don’t you think?”

Hannah reluctantly nodded, wrapping her arm around her mother’s waist.

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

“She’s not there?”

“Yes. The address written is a temporary address when she was working here, Mr. Han.”

“Where is her current location?”

He scrutinized the photo on the top right corner of the file. The lady in the photo had long brown hair and ash brown eyes. Her skin held a pale complexion but vibrant with life. He cannot recall a time he ever saw her around, but he can vaguely remember the HR manager presenting him details concerning the new recruits back then.

“Odd,” he remarked. “She left just a few days prior to the time we discovered that the document was missing.”

“We will perform the inspection today if you wish.”

He raised his hand which silenced the man before him. “No,” he commanded, his tone holding absolute certainty. “I will personally handle this. You’ve been away from your task for too long. Return to your stations.”

Just like that, they were dismissed.

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

Hannah paused, then rested her palms against her back. She bent backwards, going lower until she heard a few pops. Five hours of having her back hunched forward put considerable strain on her bones that she sometimes considered herself as a 24-year old with the back pain of a 90-year old.

Washing other people’s laundry traditionally is so damn hard… I wish we had a washing machine to do this.

From the corner of her eye, four middle-aged women were gathered together, tirelessly speaking in hushed tones among themselves.

“I sometimes pity that girl.”

“What’s there to pity? It’s justified karma!” The woman huffed, fanning herself with a piece of cardboard. “You see, if her mother wasn’t such a tramp who slept around with men, then their lives would not be like that.”

“You’re right. Poor girls… suffering because of their whore of a mother.”

Knuckles slowly turned white as she furiously scrubbed the cloth between her fists, even when the stains had faded and all. She vowed to never curse out loud as it would set a bad example for Sana and Riri.

“I heard she got pregnant with her eldest...  Ha… Han... what’s her name again?”

“Hannah!”

“Ah, yes! She got pregnant with Hannah when she was still in high school.”

“Really?” The woman’s face contorted into a grimace.

“Mm-hmm! That’s why she never finished high school!”

Damn you all.

“Her daughter seems to be following in her footsteps, though. She never finished school too, no?”

Excuse you! Get your facts straight! I graduated from high school but I didn’t go to college!

With Sana and Riri not around, she could scream profanities that would put even the most vulgar mouths to shame.

“And they even have different fathers!” 

Jeez. Why bother whispering when I could hear every insult?

“A pretty face won’t hide her utter lack of breeding.”

A little louder! I don’t think the people in the back heard you!

Her imagination showed her the best way to swat the wet cloth on to their faces, yet she chose to clench her jaw instead and hunched lower, twisting the wet shirt with all her might. The onslaught of tears that threatened to spill stung her eyes and slowly blurred her vision.

No. Not in front of them.

For the next hour, Hannah had to turn a blind eye to their gossip, lest she be fired due to misdemeanor. She shifted her attention from them to the next batch of laundry on her left.

Why do they keep assuming the worst out of us? They don’t know the whole story!

When they finally exited the place, Hannah released the shirt with much force back in the basin, the impact causing the frothy water to splatter against her face.

A small whimper escaped from her mouth, yet she managed to hold back her tears.

She hated her small town; she hated everyone in it. If it were not for her family, she would never set foot in that place ever again. But alas, the world would be unbalanced if everyone got what they wanted.

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

“I’m home!”

As soon as Hannah announced her arrival, she placed her slippers on the indiscernible shoe rack. She was careful not to step on the holes where wooden floorboards used to be. So far, its state was the same as the last time she visited. There was nothing to be cautious about.

After all, she had every crooked floorboard committed to memory—

“Ah!” she screeched, her heart stopping from the unforeseen mishap. “SANA! RIRI! WHAT’S THIS?”

“It was Riri!”

Hannah sucked in a huge breath and bellowed, “RIRI!”

Just in time, Riri got out of the bathroom. “Oh, sis, welcome home.”

“Yeah, it was a very warm welcome. Care to explain this?” She pulled her foot out and pointed at the hole where it just fell into.

“Sorry, it gave off when I threw my socks there.” The young redhead scratched her cheek. “I think the wood was ready to shatter anyway. Even the weight of a spirit can break that part of the floor.”

As much as Hannah loved her younger sisters, they could sometimes get on her nerves.

Well, we wouldn’t be sisters if no one annoyed each other.

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

“Hannah, you’re done already?”

“Yeah,” she answered after drinking a bottle of fresh milk she got for free from the old lady she often helped crossing the streets. “Want this? I’m already full.”

Upon offering the partly-consumed bottle of milk, Riri and Sana jumped from glee, only to argue who was getting a bigger portion from it.

Honestly, she could greedily gulp that milk on her own, but fresh milk rarely comes into their lives. Whenever she got the chance to be lucky, she felt responsible to share the things she gained with her sisters… no matter how small the portion was left for her. They were helpless children in a twisted world.

It’s not that she never saw the brighter side—she and her family were together and in good health; they at least had food on the table… that should be enough, right?

Right?

Tomorrow would be the same as any other day; her mother would rise earlier than the roosters’ crows, prepare breakfast, bathe, then go to work.

Working 12 hours a day with only a cracker and bottle of water to get her through…

… Hannah could not help but feel they deserved more.

I don’t need to be filthy rich. Just an average life would do!

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

Another day, another muscle sore….

Something was not right.

High-pitched shouts and boisterous laughters roused Hannah from her shallow slumber. She grabbed the pillow underneath her head, then pressed it over her ear to block out the noise, but to no avail.

What is it now?

She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, then got out of bed. Sluggishly, she dragged herself out of the bedroom.

As she got out, the suspicious feeling that something was off came once again. She was not greeted by the usual scene of Riri and Sana running around.

Her eyes scanned the shabby living room, then stopped at the front door that was left ajar.

Taking brisk steps towards it, she could make out not only her sisters’ voices…

“Go away! Or I’ll call my sister!”

“Oohh, I’m scared! You hear that? She’ll call her sister!” 

She pulled the door wide open, “Sana! Riri!”

Their mockery came into an abrupt halt when she entered the scene.

Riri stood in front of a crying Sana, shielding her from a group of grown men.

She felt a vein pop upon seeing the shameless display of immaturity, “Stop that!”

Upon seeing their eldest sister, Sana sniffled, rubbing her eyes as she ran towards her.

“Sana!” Hannah crouched to the young blonde’s height. “Are you alright? Did they do something to you?” She took Sana’s arms and scanned her for any injury. 

Fortunately, Sana was physically unharmed.

Gritting her teeth, Hannah stood and glared at the group of grown men acting like 10-year olds.

An insult to 10-year olds all over the world. Being middle-class does not give you the right to step on us!

“Have you lost your minds? She’s just a child! If it’s a fight you want, then sorry. We can’t entertain you.” She faced her two sisters, resting her hands against their backs and urging them towards the front door. “Sana, Riri, let’s go back inside.”

“Aaw, you won’t entertain us? But that’s what your slutty mother does, right? Right?”

The buffoons roared with laughter, nudging and high-fiving each other as though they were a bunch of elementary schoolboys.

Calm down, Hannah. They’ll eventually go tired. Don’t stoop down to their level.

“Stop pretending to be a good girl! You’re just like your mother, I bet!”

Hannah ignored them, lightly pushing Sana and Riri into their house. “Get inside.”

“Aaw, but we were having so much fun! Let them stay! I’m sure your sisters would grow up to be just like you two! Ah, can’t wait ‘til they turn 18—”

“Shut up!”

She snapped her head at their direction. They could hurl insults at her all day, but she will never allow anyone to to treat her family like trash, especially her baby sisters.

“Shut up?” The burliest of the group stepped forward. “Why? I was only speaking the truth! You know what they say—the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

She glared daggers at him. “Is that the best you can do? Did you pay your goons to laugh at your dumb joke? Either that or you guys need to work on your sense of humour.”

His face inched closer to hers. She turned her face away from him, nose scrunching as the warmth of his sour breath hit her face. The calloused finger caressing her skin churned her stomach, prompting her to slap his finger away.

The rumours about him were true—he does not take rejection well.

He cupped her chin, pressing his fingers harder against her cheeks. “Well, at least you’re pretty. You want money, right? Right?” Nails dirtied with grime dug themselves deeper into her skin, she was sure it would leave a mark.

The ruckus brought about a crowd of familiar faces surrounding them.

“Come to my house and I’ll give you anything you want, eh? How does that sound?” He leered her up and down, slowly licking his lips as his gaze lingered longer at her chest.

Fed up and fueled by restrained anger, she swatted his hand away and struck his cheek with a deafening slap. “Don’t touch me. And never come near our house again, do you understand?”

His nostrils flared as he rubbed his cheek. “YOU!” he glowered. Sharply sucking in air through gritted teeth, he raised his fist to hit her but was stopped by one of his companions.

“LET GO!” After prying his hand away from their hold, he elbowed the weaker-looking man’s gut, causing him to double over in pain.

“Who the heck do you think you are? No woman would ever put up with you! Want to know why you’re still single, huh?” she taunted, holding her chin up and placing her hands on her hips. “Because no one’s insane enough to settle for you!”

Her charged spiel was met with crumpled bills thrown at her face.

“Want more? Here!”

They showered her with paper bills and coins of varying values.

Although this sort of humiliation was not a rare occurrence, it never failed to rile her up.

She picked some of them up, and threw it back at them.“ I don’t need your money! Why would I, when… when,” she stammered. When what? She needed to act fast to get them off her case. 

Then, an idea dawned on her along with the next words her brain scurried to form.

“When?” one man asked.

“Shh, shh, don’t disturb her. She’s thinking about the money.”

“Your money?” she scoffed. “Please! Why would I need it when I have a suitor worth more than all of you combined?”

“Whooooaaa, really? Prove it!”

She expected to be met with disbelief. All she needed was a convincing lie to get them to believe her.

Whispers of incredulity broke the stillness in the air which ironically intensified the situation.

“You seriously believe her? The suitor is obviously a druggie!”

“No, he’s not! H-he’s none other than the heir of… of… C&R!”

Shi… of all the companies you had to say, it had to be C&R!

“Did you hear that? The heir of C&R? This bitch is delusional!”

“I’ve never seen the heir. Is he handsome?”

“None of us has internet, Sweetie.”

Word spread fast, as not even seconds later, the crowd was growing larger.

Hannah wanted to smack herself, not mentally but physically. 

Way to go, Hannah! You just had to make things worse… should I call Seven? He is rich and has many cars after all. Ah, but I shouldn’t bother him with these trivial matters.

The heavens must have pitied her and answered her prayers, as she caught sight of a slick black car parked by from a distance.

They were too busy gossiping and throwing insults at her that they had not noticed where her line of vision ended.

A serious-looking middle-aged man in black suit got out of the driver’s seat. He circled the car until he reached the back door.

Hannah kept her eyes peeled open as the chauffeur opened the backseat door.

Bingo.

A tall, well-built man with unkempt black hair stepped out of the car. He scanned his surroundings, a perplexed expression on his face as he whispered something to his chauffeur, who then gave a slight nod in reply.

The man looked to be in his late 20s, and his whole existence screamed that he was not a resident of their village. 

I found my new suitor.

“Oh, silly me, I almost forgot!” She lightly smacked her head. “I forgot he was going to visit me! He’s right there, see!” She jumped up and waved her arms at the unknown man.

The strange action caught his attention as he was meticulously folding his long sleeves.

“Hehe, be right back!”

Hannah rushed towards him, aware that the small crowd was staring at her retreating figure.

Then she finally reached him. Instead of introducing herself, she tiptoed, tugging the collar of his sleeve to bring him to her height and whispered, “Please, please, please do me a favour and just pretend to be the heir of C&R! It’s very important! PLEASE!”

There was a slight quirk of his brow as he responded with outright bewilderment, “But I am the heir of C&R.”

Overjoyed, Hannah clapped her hands together and cheered, “Perfect! Just like a natural! Now let’s go!”

“Wait—”

Ignoring his confused face, she linked her arms with his and gleefully dragged him towards the flabbergasted crowd.

They have no idea how the heir looks like anyway!

Once she reached them, she made an exaggerated gesture to introduce the saviour of her current predicament.

“This is my suitor! The heir,” she threw that word with much emphasis, smirking as she savoured the baffled looks on their faces, “of C&R International Company!”

She could take a guess of what went on in their heads: How was Hannah able to snag such a handsome rich man? I wish I was her right now! She’s got to be kidding?!

Having been taught to think twice when unexpectedly faced by conflict, Jumin carefully analyzed the situation, noting every detail he could gather. She doesn’t seem to know me… and neither do these people. His piercing glare landed on the grown men, and this made them flinch from where they stood. But perhaps they know.

“S-Sir… we apologize for causing Ms. Hannah trouble. W-we will be leaving now!”

Oh, shit… he’s such a good actor. He hasn’t said a word at all, but he managed to fool them! Hannah’s eyes darted between the classy-looking man and the direction where the men just ran off.

“Are you alright, Hannah? Did they hurt you?” The woman she worked for the other day came up beside her.

She gave her the side-eye. If memory serves her right, these people had always thrown their knives at her back.

“At least you’re alright,” the lady said before facing the ‘heir of C&R’.  “Hello, Mister! I’m Jung Mina!”

“Oho, now you’re behaved?” Hannah’s lip curled at her sudden shift of behaviour. The quintessential social climber. “Scatter along now! Can’t you see you’re making him uncomfortable?”

 When the crowd dispersed and went their own way, Hannah sighed in relief. Peace, at last.

Before she could forget her saviour, she turned to look at him then bowed politely. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this ruckus. I really am!” She straightened her posture. “Why don’t I bring you to the market? My treat! It’s usually not crowded around this time of day.”

“I’m not here for such matters—”

“Nonsense! At least let me treat you for the trouble! If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have a peaceful day. That happens only once in a blue moon, so please let me show you my gratitude!” She took his hand and pulled him along with her. 

And with an audible sigh, he followed.

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

He’s like a kid on his first exploration.

She tried to stifle her laughter as she watched him attempt to conceal his awe at the surroundings. He looked so fascinated that she felt bad to disturb his musings. His eyes were darting from place to place, but she noticed how they would linger on anything cat-related, especially on white ones with blue eyes.

“So this is the commoners’ mall. It is outdoors?”

“I guess you can say that? I mean, it’s called a ‘market’.”

“Everything here is cheap… are they all safe?”

“Not everything—but most are safe! Sometimes it’s cheap because they manufacture it themselves. Others buy it by bulk directly from the manufacturers. Most items are knockoffs too, not everyone can afford the real thing; although, I don’t understand why people would waste money on expensive bags or watches. If I were them, as long as a bag works or a watch works, it doesn’t have to be… you know… pricey.”

The sudden halt in their footsteps caught his attention. When she turned to look at him, he couldn’t help noticing the glint of mirth that her brown eyes gave off.

“Do you love cats?”

He blinked twice. How was she able to tell?

She chuckled at his stiff nod. For a rich man like him, she surely did not feel intimidated by his vibe. “Here, let me buy this for you—no refusing!” she demanded, her hand reaching to an oversized blue pajama set with cat prints on it. She raised the shirt to his chest, checking if the size fitted him.

His head tilted ever so slightly to the side as he scanned the top’s design. “I have never worn anything like this.”

“Huh? Then what do you wear when you sleep?”

“I wear outfits that are convenient for immediate departure in case of an emergency.”

She scrunched her nose. “I… guess it’s improper to ask further,” she said whilst her eyebrow rose behind her frame. “Maybe I should get you more.”

“There is no need.” When he made a move to bring out his wallet, Hannah immediately stopped him, grabbing his wrist and placing it back to his side.

“No, I will be paying! Don’t pay for anything today.”

The next thing he knew, they were sauntering all over the place with ease. It was not difficult to maneuver around the small crowd given the friendly weather they were under. The sky was perfectly cloudy and the cool breeze was pleasing to his skin. This was not the “appointment” he was expecting to encounter when he came to visit the small town.

Still, with all his frankness, it was a surprise he was willing to spend the day in.

Unconsciously, Jumin let out a soft chuckle.

“Don’t tell me you have never tried this?” she exclaimed in pure disbelief, her hands shaking both paper bags in her hands. 

“My nutritionist strongly opposes junk food, and he has been my nutritionist since my childhood; therefore, I never once touched this… fries.”

“It’s not just your regular fries; this is ‘Shook Shook Fries’. A taste of this is a must!”

“It is unhealthful….”

“It’s not like you’re gonna eat this everydaaay,” she dragged for added humour, “just have it from time to time.”

The moment he tasted it, he knew he was missing a lot of things in life.

There it was again, that satisfying sound of her laughter… she was doing it again.

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

He stared at her genuine smile for the third time that day. Was it the third? Maybe fourth? Fifth? His sharp memory could not tell. Have I really been too preoccupied?

His attention shifted back to the young woman waving her hand close to his face… 

...and to the next food she was putting on his palm.

“I’m betting my head you’ve never tried this too. Make sure you have this for breakfast with egg tomorrow!”

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

Just as it started, their wandering ended with Hannah paying for the long cat plush pillow.

“I feel like a boyfriend spoiling his girlfriend around.”

“Is that bad?” came his monotonous voice.

“Nope! I had fun. Sorry I wasn’t able to treat you much, but this is all I can offer,” she said sullenly. “I hope you enjoyed it though.”

It was silent for a while, until he could visibly see his car slowly approaching them from a distance.

“Oh! Isn’t that your car? Why don’t you leave now and get some rest?”

She continued to blabber about how he should go home and that she would be fine going home by herself. While she was busy gesturing over the car—her back turned to him—he lifted his hand high in the air to catch the driver’s attention. With one twirl of his finger, the car stopped proceeding before it turned and drove away.

“H-Hey! Why is it leaving?” 

“Perhaps my driver forgot something.”

“What? But what about you?”

For a split second, she thought she was imagining things. She saw the corner of his lips quirked up as he shrugged his shoulders.

“I guess I’ll walk you home.” Even though his eyes were as dark as the night that was coming, they were warm like the first ray of sunlight in the cold early morning.

However, her face was probably warmer than his gaze.

The very same night, someone unusually had difficulty falling asleep after realizing something really important.

“I forgot to ask his name!”

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~0 ~ 0

“Yes, make sure all their bills are paid for the entire year. Tell them to contact my assistant if the amount is inadequate.”

“Understood.”

“You may leave.”

Jaehee could not tell which was more perplexing, seeing her boss using a long cat plush pillow or the rustling sound the fries were making inside the paper bag he was shaking.

“Mr. Han, I don’t think your nutritionist will… appreciate that.”

He simply hummed in response.

“Have you ever tried this ‘Shivering Fries’?”

“It’s ‘Shook Shook Fries’, Mr. Han, and I have had it several times. Will this be your first?”

“How bold of you to assume I’ve never had this.”

She swore she felt her energy evacuate her body at that comment. At least I’m paid more than enough to handle this. “My apologies. You just don’t seem to be the type to eat that kind of food.”

There he was, in all his glory, smirking at himself for who knows what reason. She had always found him annoying; but today, he was different on an exasperating level. 

Jaehee swore once more that his next words had successfully snapped a vein in the back of her head.

“I am quite a commoner at heart. And can someone buy me this ‘hotdog’ with egg?”

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

Hey guuuys, hope you enjoyed this! Since this is kind of a sideline project and this isn't our super focus, Chapter 3 is unsure as of yet!

Anyway, thank you for reading! Love you guys ohohohoho

[pineapplekeith]

House Cat - Pt. 4

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Pairing: Klance

Universe: Modern Earth/Fantasy

Rating: T (language)

Word Count: 3K+

Part: [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ]

Summary:  Werecats are hard to find outside of lab facilities now-a-days and Lance has had a suspicion that a small stray that comes by his house now and then is one when he noticed a new face around town around the same time. / Modern AU setting with werecats for fun and seriousness now and then. Klance heavy with Garrison Trio and maybe some more ships making an appearance later on.

A/N: So far, this has been well liked on AO3 and FF so I decided to post the full parts on here. Links to AO3 and FF are on my story blog @kal-i-ka-stories

Over by the television, Lance was in the middle of winning his third game against the game’s computer system. Once the screen announced his victory, his phone vibrated in his pocket, alerting him that he had a new text message. Lance glanced at the time on the cable box. It’s too late to be mam�� or pops. He then looked over his shoulder. Seeing that everyone was busy with something, Lance dug through his jacket pocket for his phone.

::::::::::

Unknown Number: You weren’t home. We need to talk. -Keith

::::::::::

...::::..::::..::::..

Cold.

Keith peeked out from under his covers. He squinted his eyes when the light from the rising sun peeking through the plastic on his apartment windows hit his face. He then fully crawled out from under his covers and stretched out his legs and back. He sat down on his bed and scratched at his ear before grooming himself.

Down below he could hear a door slam and soon after, someone was banging at his floor from the lower level. “Wake up kid! We open in two hours and you need to get down here and clean. You better hurry or you won’t get any breakfast!”

Yeah, I know.

He then sat still on his bed and concentrated for a bit. Once he opened his eyes, the cold of the room hit his body like knives. “Yeah, I’m up! I’ll be down in a minute!” Keith yelled back as he raised his arms and stretched his back. He flinched as his foot touched the cold hardwood, but he pushed through and got ready for the day.

Keith’s one room apartment was just that. A one room apartment. There were two doors on either side of the room, one leading down stairs to the shop below and the other being the main entrance that lead to a staircase outside. He had a twin-size bed in one corner with a night stand next to it. There was a small table over by the half kitchen in the corner across from the bed with only one chair tucked underneath. There was another door across from the kitchen that led to a bathroom that just contained the bare minimum to make the space livable and next to it in a corner was a standard size dresser. The windows in the room over looked the beach from across the street, but the view wasn’t much since the sky always looked gloomy this time of year. Then again, Keith couldn’t fully see the view since putting plastic up on his window to block out the cold air.

Keith quickly went through his morning routine and put on a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, and his usual pair of sneakers. He grabbed his red jacket off the back of the chair at his kitchen table before walking down stairs to the shop. The shop wasn’t much to look at, just like his upstairs apartment. After Keith walked through the door at the end of the tunnel of stairs he was met with a dull, sad nautical themed restaurant that was clearly just getting by. He turned to walk behind the bar and grabbed a broom to start his opening chores.

“About time. I was starting to wonder if you were ever coming down.” The owner of the shop said from the grill. The smell of sausage and eggs filled the area around him.

“Sorry, had a hard time finding something clean to wear.” Keith lied. He just didn’t hurry because he knows it doesn’t take him two hours to open the shop like it did his boss before he started working there.

“Whatever. Dirty or not, it’ll still smell like fish at the end of the day with the sea-salts we get in here.” The owner said, not really caring for Keith’s excuse. “Hurry and finish so I can feed you. Mother found out that I forgot some of your lunches at home and got mad at me when they turned out to be bad.” Even though the owner seemed tough around the edges, he did care enough about Keith to give him a place to stay and work, but his wife cared a bit more. His boss would always complain about how his wife would always scold him about not feeding Keith enough. Keith did agree with her on that, but werecat naturally ate more than humans to replace the energy lost when shifting. But he couldn’t say that, it would give himself away and he probably would end up back at a lab, so he ate whatever his boss thought was enough. “Oh, and here’s your allowance,” the owner said as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a $20 bill and put it on the bar for Keith. “I still don’t understand why she insist on giving it to you. I already pay and feed you and you don’t go out like a normal kid your age so I don’t know what you’ll do with it.”

“Don’t know, but thanks.” Keith mumbled as he continued to sweep the floor of the shop. His boss did have a point, Keith didn’t really go out and only used a fraction of his allowance and pay for a small amount of groceries. But he did have a plan for the left-over money. After moving in, Keith knew that he couldn’t live above the shop forever. He’s still missing the important stuff he would need to be treated like a normal person and live a normal life on the outside. Keith still needed to get the proper forms of identification before he could even think about moving to a new place or a new town and the only way to do that was to pay for it.

“Well, over the years, I’ve just learned to just shut my mouth and let her do what she wants. With the kids and grandkids having their own lives, she’s probably just happy to have someone she can spoil, whether I like it or not.”

So, the old man actually has kids. Didn’t know that.

Keith finished sweeping up the shop and then went to take the chairs off the tables after picking up his allowance from the bar. The morning just continued quietly. Keith finished setting up the shop, ate what he thought was a small breakfast with his boss, and then unlocked the door and set up the outside of the shop.

“Hey Keith, Val has you working this early again?” Someone called out from behind Keith as he was writing the day’s seafood special on the blackboard stand.

Keith looked behind him to see a small group of the usual fishermen that would come by the shop in the morning. “Yeah, it’s like this every morning,” Keith responded as he went back to finish writing on the board.

“That old bastard needs to let you be a kid occasionally.” The head of the group said before they walked in.

I never was one so why be one now. Keith thought to himself as he set up the chalkboard. He then walked in and went behind the bar. The men were already seated at the bar and Keith’s boss was cooking their usual breakfast orders on the grill. Keith tied his hair back in a small ponytail before gathering up three coffee mugs. “Black, two shots of milk, and a pack of sugar and a shot of cream, right?” Keith ask as he walked over to the coffee station behind the bar.

“Val, you need to give the kid a raise.” One of the men said, amazed at Keith’s memory with how they all liked their coffee.

“I already pay him and Ellie keeps giving him an allowance. He’s good.” Val responded as he continued cooking.

“Ok, then give him a day off.”

“Yeah Val. The closest he gets to a day off is when its slow and you close early.”

“He doesn’t need a day off.” Val responded, getting a little annoyed with his customers’ badgering. “Keith working here is how he’s paying rent. Besides, he doesn’t mind it. Do you kid?”

“Not at all.” Keith said as he finished making the coffees and brought them over to the guest.

“See, he’s fine. Now leave him alone or you jackasses aren’t getting food.” Val said, ending the conversation.

The fishermen decided to leave the conversation there, all three of them still finding it funny to pick on Val’s nerves. The morning continued with Val talking to the three men about how their business on the water was going and Keith just staying out of the way and keeping himself busy. The shop was always slow, with most of the customers being the local sea-salts on that side of town and the older population of the town that would stop by during their morning walks. It would sometimes get a different clientele in the afternoons, but it was usually just people who were wondering by or curious about what was inside the building. Keith and his boss had a system that they kept to everyday. Keith would clean and take the orders in the dining area and handle all the drinks while Val would only worry about his loyal customers at the bar and the grill. It was an unfair balance of work, but it was one that Keith agreed to and didn’t mind doing.

“Hey kid, get out here and work,” Val yelled out through the small window in the wall between the shop and back room.

Keith was in the back washing a few dishes that were left by his last group of customers. He looked at the clock on the wall and noticed that it was already the afternoon; random stragglers were starting to come in. “Coming,” Keith yelled back as he started to dry his hands. Once he walked out, Keith grabbed his notepad off the edge of the bar and scanned the room for the new patron.

Shit.

Over at one of the tables by the window was a group of teenagers around Keith’s age, which was a strange thing to have in the shop. But sitting at the table with the small group was the last person Keith wanted to see. Lance was sitting by the window and looked to be uninterested in his friends’ conversation while he looked out at the unimpressive view. Keith tried to keep himself together as he walked over to the table, hoping that Lance wouldn’t notice him and say something.

“Are you all ready?” Keith asked as he walked up to the table, getting his notepad ready. Just like the rest of the customers that Keith would wait on, the first two people to order were just a blur to him as he wrote down their orders.

“I would like to have a milkshake please.” One of the teens said as she read over the menu.

Keith looked up at her and instantly got a chill down his spine. She smells weird. Keith thought to himself as he looked at the girl for a moment before writing down her request. He didn’t understand why she gave him a chill, she didn’t look threatening. But he knew it wasn’t a good one and needed to keep his distance.

“Lance what are you getting?” The guy sitting next to Lance asked him as he bumped his shoulder.

Keith kept his head down, hoping that not making eye contact would make Lance notice him less.

“I’ll just have a milkshake.”

Keith then quickly turned away and walked back to the bar before Lance could finish his sentence. Out of all the places him and his friends could come to, why come all the way out here? Keith thought to himself as he walked over to hand Val the order that he just took. He then walked over to his drink station and got to work, thinking that the quicker they were served, the quicker they would leave.

“Hey,” Lance said in a hushed tone.

Shit!

“Go away.” Keith said sternly as he topped off the two sodas that were ordered.

“So you did notice me.” Lance said with a slight bounce in his voice.

Keith cut his eyes up at him for a moment, annoyed to see Lance’s smirk. “I’m working, go away.” He warned again, getting irritated with Lance’s pestering.

Keith walked over to the small fridge and pulled out a carton of milk and the tub of ice cream from the freezer. He could feel Lance watch him and he put the ingredients for the milkshakes together in the blender. “How have you been?” Just fine. Now shut up. “You just left and then never came back so I’ve been a bit worried.” Don’t be. I’m not your damn cat. Now shut it! “I haven’t told anyone you know.” Who would believe you if you did? Keith then turned on the blender, running it a bit longer than what was needed just to enjoy the moment of Lance’s silence. Keith stopped the blender and then went to grab two cups to pour the milkshake mixture in. “You said you came over to be fed and get warm, right?” What other reason was there? “Well,” Lance then reached behind the bar to grab something, “if you want to come over again, just let me know. You can come by however you want.”

Keith continued to pour the milkshakes into Styrofoam cups before looking at what Lance was holding. He was holding out a napkin that he had picked up from behind the bar and Keith could see a series of numbers written on it. That seemed to really strike a chord in Keith. He looked at Lance before snatching the napkin out of his hand and threw it in the small trashcan behind him. “I told you to forget what happened. I’m not a charity case. I don’t need to be pitied. Leave me alone.” Keith tried his hardest to keep his cool while saying that. For most of his life, he didn’t have one. And even though the one he had now wasn’t perfect, it was his and he was not going to have someone pity him. Even though the old man and his wife took him in out of pity, they were at least making him work for his bed and figure things out on his own. All they were to Keith were his landlords and bosses. They never gave him serious handouts and Keith respected them for that.

After feeling that he made his point across, Keith then grabbed the milkshakes and put them on a small tray with the other drinks and walked around the bar with them. Leaving Lance behind to take in what he said. He dropped off all the drinks at the table and instantly turned to walk back to the bar, Lance bumping his shoulder as they passed each other. What are you, a child? Keith thought to himself as he looked back at Lance before going to the back to finish his dishes.

Keith tried to stay in the back as much as he could while Lance and his friend were in the shop. Luckily, they didn’t need anything after Keith dropped off their two food orders and he was able to just wait on the usual customers he and Val would get each day. “Hey kid, you have empties,” Val called out through the window, telling Keith that one of his tables were empty. He finished washing the few coffee mugs he had in the sink and put them on the rack to dry before walking out. The shop was completely empty at this point, with the only table that needed clearing was the one that Lance and his friends were at. Keith grabbed the dish bin from behind the bar and headed toward the table to clear it. For a table full of teens, it was surprisingly clean. The plates were already stacked for Keith and they even left a tip behind for him. Keith put the dishes that were on the table in the bin and collected the tip, finding a piece of paper with a note written on it under the bills.

‘You should really give my friend a chance. He’s really a nice guy. At least be friends with him. You look like you need some.’

Underneath the note was a phone number that looked like the one that Lance wrote earlier. Keith reread the note a couple of times, trying to figure out which of Lance’s friend was watching their conversation earlier and wrote it. He noted that it didn’t smell like the one friend that gave him a chill, so at least that narrowed it down a bit. Keith then decided to give up on the mystery and shoved the money and the note in his pocket with the rest of his tips from the day. He quickly wiped down the table and walked back to the bar to collect any other dishes that he needed to wash.

“I don’t know what happened between you and that guy from earlier, but at least I see that you actually meet people outside of here now and then.” Val called out when Keith got to the bar. He was busy scrubbing the grill top clean, using the moment to his advantage so he could close early.

“He was just an idiot that bugs me. It won’t happen again.” Keith explained as he collected some dishes that were used during the early dinner period.

“I’m not complaining. I know I didn’t show it this morning, but I really do worry about you isolating yourself here. Seeing that happen today was actually refreshing.” Val was a master at hiding his emotions, something he had learned with age, but when he did admit that he was interested in something, that was worth noting. “If you ever want a day off to go and meet people or just get away from here, just let me know. But don’t do it too often,” he said as he pointed the scrub brush at Keith. “I’m old and still need help here. I can’t easily lift those chairs forever.”

“Understood sir.”

“Good.” Val went back to cleaning the grill. “Go ahead and take everything to the back. The guys told me this morning that everyone would be out tonight collecting their traps. Go ahead and lock the door and I’ll count down the till when I’m done.”

Keith nodded his head and started to collect every dish that he usually washed at night that was behind the bar. Closing the shop was just like running it. Keith would wash all the dishes, wipe off the bar and tables, sweep and mob the floor, and make sure everything was stocked while all Val did was clean the grill and count the register and half the tips with Keith. It looked unfair on the surface, but it was manageable for the two and Keith was just fine with it since he always seemed to finish when Val was ready to split the tips. When Keith pulled out the tips he collected form his pocket, he found the note that was left for him mixed in with the money. He found himself reading the note again a few times before putting it back in his pocket before Val could say anything about it. The shop never really received tips before Keith started working there. It started with some of Val’s friends giving Keith a few extra bills as their apology that he was working there. But soon, it became a usual thing that everyone that visited the shop did before leaving. At first Keith would keep it all since it was all usually left for him, but when Val suggested that they start splitting it, he didn’t mind at all and agreed to it so he could stay on good terms with his landlord/boss.

“I’ll see you early tomorrow morning. A lot of the guys will be coming in for breakfast before going out to reset their traps.” Val said as he went to lock the door.

“See you then.” Keith waved as his boss left through the shop entrance, locking the door behind him. He then went up to his apartment through the shop entrance. Once in his room, Keith didn’t bother to turn on the lights and just went straight to his bed. The day was a complete blur, apart from one vivid moment. The slight change in his routine was a bit exhausting for Keith, but at least it was different from the usual gray days that he would have. He then got up from his bed and walked over to the kitchen space of his apartment. He grabbed a bottle of a sports drink out of his small fridge and then turned on the lights. He sat at his kitchen table and dug out the money he had earned that day from his pocket. His stomach growled as he counted the money. Compared to how much he was fed at the lab, Keith practically had only eaten one meal that day. He usually wouldn’t be so hungry if he didn’t shift much, but with the cold weather setting in he was practically burning more energy than usual when he slept in his feline form.

After counting his earnings from the day, Keith instantly separated his allowance from the total and folded up the rest of the money. He walked over to the nightstand by his bid and pulled the drawer open. Inside was a small money box that his boss had given him instead of throwing it away. Keith opened the money box and inside was everything he had collected over the few months of working for Val. He had enough to get some of the things he needed to live a normal life, but still not enough to really be out on his own. He put the money he earned inside and put the box back in its hiding spot.

Keith’s stomach growled again. He went back to his kitchen and reopened the fridge. There wasn’t much food inside, only a few minor things that wouldn’t fill him up. He looked back over at the table at his allowance that was taken out of his savings. I guess I’m going to the bar tonight. Keith thought to himself as he picked up the money, revealing the note that was left for him by one of Lance’s friends. He picked up the note and read it again, trying to figure out which of the friends were watching him and Lance talk at the bar and wrote the note. His mind then singled in on the one friend that gave him a chill. She looked nice enough, but the warning his senses gave him about her made him worry. Keith had always dealt with shady characters after he started working at the shop, but none of them gave him a frightening chill like she did. He then broke out of his thoughts and shoved the money and the note in his jacket pocket and headed for the main door to leave his apartment.

..::::..::::..::::..

Where the hell is he?

Keith was standing outside of Lance’s window, annoyed that he wasn’t home even though it was almost midnight. He swore that he would never come back after what happened between them, but he kept thinking about how Lance’s friend gave him a bad feeling and just ended up at his house.

I’m probably overthinking this. Keith thought to himself as he started to walk out of the alley and back to where he wanted to go in town. But something about her just bugged me. Maybe I should say something? But then that idiot would just tell me I’m crazy or something. Keith kept fighting with himself over what he should do. He soon reached a park and decided to sit down for a moment and really think about what he should do.

Keith pulled out his phone and the note and just stared at them. If I talk to him, I know he won’t believe me. But then again, he might just have a brain and listen to me.

Keith debated over what he should do for a bit longer. Then he made his decision.

::::::::::

Me: You weren’t home. We need to talk. -Keith

::::::::::

Keith waited for a bit, thinking that he was stupid to text Lance this late. When he started to think he wouldn’t get a reply, his phone vibrated to alert that he had a new message.

::::::::::

Unknown Number: I’m at a friend’s house. What do you want?

Me: I need to talk to you about something. Can you meet me somewhere?

Unknown Number: I thought you told me to leave you alone?! Why the hell would I give you any more of my time?

Me: Can you stop being a drama queen and just come out and meet me?! This is serious! After we’re done, we can go our separate ways.

::::::::::

Keith’s phone was silent for what seemed like forever.

::::::::::

Unknown Number: Where at?

Me: You know where Rufus’s Bar is?

Unknown Number: Yeah.

Me: I’m heading over there now. Meet me there.

::::::::::

Keith then got up from his seat at the park and stuffed his phone back in his pocket and headed toward where he wanted to go at the beginning of the night.

[youmightfindyourself]

That woman Estelle,'" the note reads, "'is partly the reason why George Sharp and I are separated today.' Dirty crepe-de-Chine wrapper, hotel bar, Wilmington RR, 9:45 a.m. August Monday morning."

Since the note is in my notebook, it presumably has some meaning to me. I study it for a long while. At first I have only the most general notion of what I was doing on an August Monday morning in the bar of the hotel across from the Pennsylvania Railroad station in Wilmington, Delaware (waiting for a train? missing one? 1960? 1961? why Wilmington?), but I do remember being there. The woman in the dirty crepe-de-Chine wrapper had come down from her room for a beer, and the bartender had heard before the reason why George Sharp and she were separated today. "Sure," he said, and went on mopping the floor. "You told me." At the other end of the bar is a girl. She is talking, pointedly, not to the man beside her but to a cat lying in the triangle of sunlight cast through the open door. She is wearing a plaid silk dress from Peck & Peck, and the hem is coming down.

Here is what it is: the girl has been on the Eastern Shore, and now she is going back to the city, leaving the man beside her, and all she can see ahead are the viscous summer sidewalks and the 3 a.m. long-distance calls that will make her lie awake and then sleep drugged through all the steaming mornings left in August (1960? 1961?). Because she must go directly from the train to lunch in New York, she wishes that she had a safety pin for the hem of the plaid silk dress, and she also wishes that she could forget about the hem and the lunch and stay in the cool bar that smells of disinfectant and malt and make friends with the woman in the crepe-de-Chine wrapper. She is afflicted by a little self- pity, and she wants to compare Estelles. That is what that was all about.

Why did I write it down? In order to remember, of course, but exactly what was it I wanted to remember? How much of it actually happened? Did any of it? Why do I keep a notebook at all? It is easy to deceive oneself on all those scores. The impulse to write things down is a peculiarly compulsive one, inexplicable to those who do not share it, useful only accidentally, only secondarily, in the way that any compulsion tries to justify itself. I suppose that it begins or does not begin in the cradle. Although I have felt compelled to write things down since I was five years old, I doubt that my daughter ever will, for she is a singularly blessed and accepting child, delighted with life exactly as life presents itself to her, unafraid to go to sleep and unafraid to wake up. Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss.

My first notebook was a Big Five tablet, given to me by my mother with the sensible suggestion that I stop whining and learn to amuse myself by writing down my thoughts. She returned the tablet to me a few years ago; the first entry is an account of a woman who believed herself to be freezing to death in the Arctic night, only to find, when day broke, that she had stumbled onto the Sahara Desert, where she would die of the heat before lunch. I have no idea what turn of a five-year-old's mind could have prompted so insistently "ironic" and exotic a story, but it does reveal a certain predilection for the extreme which has dogged me into adult life; perhaps if I were analytically inclined I would find it a truer story than any I might have told about Donald Johnson's birthday party or the day my cousin Brenda put Kitty Litter in the aquarium.

So the point of my keeping a notebook has never been, nor is it now, to have an accurate factual record of what I have been doing or thinking. That would be a different impulse entirely, an instinct for reality which I sometimes envy but do not possess. At no point have I ever been able successfully to keep a diary; my approach to daily life ranges from the grossly negligent to the merely absent, and on those few occasions when I have tried dutifully to record a day's events, boredom has so overcome me that the results are mysterious at best. What is this business about "shopping, typing piece, dinner with E, depressed"? Shopping for what? Typing what piece? Who is E? Was this "E" depressed, or was I depressed? Who cares?

In fact I have abandoned altogether that kind of pointless entry; instead I tell what some would call lies. "That's simply not true," the members of my family frequently tell me when they come up against my memory of a shared event. "The party was not for you, the spider was not a black widow, it wasn't that way at all." Very likely they are right, for not only have I always had trouble distinguishing between what happened and what merely might have happened, but I remain unconvinced that the distinction, for my purposes, matters. The cracked crab that I recall having for lunch the day my father came home from Detroit in 1945 must certainly be embroidery, worked into the day's pattern to lend verisimilitude; I was ten years old and would not now remember the cracked crab. The day's events did not turn on cracked crab. And yet it is precisely that fictitious crab that makes me see the afternoon all over again, a home movie run all too often, the father bearing gifts, the child weeping, an exercise in family love and guilt. Or that is what it was to me. Similarly, perhaps it never did snow that August in Vermont; perhaps there never were flurries in the night wind, and maybe no one else felt the ground hardening and summer already dead even as we pretended to bask in it, but that was how it felt to me, and it might as well have snowed, could have snowed, did snow.

How it felt to me: that is getting closer to the truth about a notebook. I sometimes delude myself about why I keep a notebook, imagine that some thrifty virtue derives from preserving everything observed. See enough and write it down, I tell myself, and then some morning when the world seems drained of wonder, some day when I am only going through the motions of doing what I am supposed to do, which is write - on that bankrupt morning I will simply open my notebook and there it will all be, a forgotten account with accumulated interest, paid passage back to the world out there: dialogue overheard in hotels and elevators and at the hat-check counter in Pavillon (one middle-aged man shows his hat check to another and says, "That's my old football number"); impressions of Bettina Aptheker and Benjamin Sonnenberg and Teddy ("Mr. Acapulco") Stauffer; careful aperçus about tennis bums and failed fashion models and Greek shipping heiresses, one of whom taught me a significant lesson (a lesson I could have learned from F. Scott Fitzgerald, but perhaps we all must meet the very rich for ourselves) by asking, when I arrived to interview her in her orchid-filled sitting room on the second day of a paralyzing New York blizzard, whether It was snowing outside.

I imagine, in other words, that the notebook is about other people. But of course it is not. I have no real business with what one stranger said to another at the hat-check, counter in Pavillon; in fact I suspect that the line "That's' my old football number" touched not my own imagination at all, but merely some memory of something once read, probably "The Eighty-Yard Run." Nor is my concern with a woman in a dirty crepe-de-Chine wrapper in a Wilmington bar. My stake is always, of course, in the unmentioned girl in the plaid silk dress. Remember what it was to be me: that is always the point.

It is a difficult point to admit. We are brought up in the ethic that others, any others, all others, are by definition more interesting than ourselves; taught to be diffident, just this side of self-effacing. ("You're the least important person in the room and don't forget it," Jessica Mitford's governess would hiss in her ear on the advent of any social occasion; I copied that into my notebook because it is only recently that I have been able to enter a room without hearing some such phrase in my inner ear.) Only the very young and the very old may recount their dreams at breakfast, dwell upon self, interrupt with memories of beach picnics and favorite Liberty lawn dresses and the rainbow trout in a creek near Colorado Springs. The rest of us are expected, rightly, to affect absorption in other people's favorite dresses, other people's trout.

And so we do. But our notebooks give us away, for however dutifully we record what we see around us, the common denominator of all we see is always, transparently, shamelessly, the implacable "I." We are not talking here about the kind of notebook that is patently for public consumption, a structural conceit for binding together a series of graceful pensees; we are talking about something private, about bits of the mind's string too short to use, an indiscriminate and erratic assemblage with meaning only for its maker.

And sometimes even the maker has difficulty with the meaning. There does not seem to be, for example, any point in my knowing for the rest of my life that, during 1964, 720 tons of soot fell on every square mile of New York City, yet there it is in my notebook, labeled "FACT". Nor do I really need to remember that Ambrose Bierce liked to spell Leland Stanford's name "£eland $tanford" or that "smart women almost always wear black in Cuba," a fashion hint without much potential for practical application. And does not the relevance of these notes seem marginal at best?:

In the basement museum of the Inyo County Courthouse in Independence, California, sign pinned to a mandarin coat: "This MANDARIN COAT was often worn by Mrs. Minnie S. Brooks when giving lectures on her TEAPOT COLLECTION."

Redhead getting out of car in front of Beverly Wilshire Hotel, chinchilla stole, Vuitton bags with tags reading:

MRS LOU FOX HOTEL SAHARA VEGAS

Well, perhaps not entirely marginal. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Minnie S. Brooks and her MANDARIN COAT pull me back into my own childhood, for although I never knew Mrs. Brooks and did not visit Inyo County until I was thirty, I grew up in just such a world, in houses cluttered with Indian relics and bits of gold ore and ambergris and the souvenirs my Aunt Mercy Farnsworth brought back from the Orient. It is a long way from that world to Mrs. Lou Fox's world, where we all live now, and is it not just as well to remember that? Might not Mrs. Minnie S. Brooks help me to remember what I am? Might not Mrs. Lou Fox help me to remember what I am not?

But sometimes the point is harder to discern. What exactly did I have in mind when I noted down that it cost the father of someone I know $650 a month to light the place on the Hudson in which he lived before the Crash? What use was I planning to make of this line by Jimmy Hoffa: "I may have my faults, but being wrong ain't one of them"? And although I think it interesting to know where the girls who travel with the Syndicate have their hair done when they find themselves on the West Coast, will I ever make suitable use of it? Might I not be better off just passing it on to John O'Hara? What is a recipe for sauerkraut doing in my notebook? What kind of magpie keeps this notebook? "He was born the night the Titanic went down." That seems a nice enough line, and I even recall who said it, but is it not really a better line in life than it could ever be in fiction?

But of course that is exactly it: not that I should ever use the line, but that I should remember the woman who said it and the afternoon I heard it. We were on her terrace by the sea, and we were finishing the wine left from lunch, trying to get what sun there was, a California winter sun. The woman whose husband was born the night the Titanic went down wanted to rent her house, wanted to go back to her children in Paris. I remember wishing that I could afford the house, which cost $1,000 a month. "Someday you will," she said lazily. "Someday it all comes." There in the sun on her terrace it seemed easy to believe in someday, but later I had a low-grade afternoon hangover and ran over a black snake on the way to the supermarket and was flooded with inexplicable fear when I heard the checkout clerk explaining to the man ahead of me why she was finally divorcing her husband. "He left me no choice," she said over and over as she the punched the register. "He has a little seven-month-old baby by her, he left me no choice." I would like to believe that my dread then was for the human condition, but of course it was for me, because I wanted a baby and did not then have one and because I wanted to own the house that cost $1,000 a month to rent and because I had a hangover.

It all comes back. Perhaps it is difficult to see the value in having one's self back in that kind of mood, but I do see it; I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind's door at 4 a.m. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends. We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget. We forget the loves and the betrayals alike, forget what we whispered and what we screamed, forget who we were. I have already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be; one of them, a seventeen-year-old, presents little threat, although it would be of some interest to me to know again what it feels like to sit on a river levee drinking vodka-and-orange-juice and listening to Les Paul and Mary Ford and their echoes sing "How High the Moon" on the car radio. (You see I still have the scenes, but I no longer perceive myself among those present, no longer could even improvise the dialogue.) The other one, a twenty-three-year-old, bothers me more. She was always a good deal of trouble, and I suspect she will reappear when I least want to see her, skirts too long, shy to the point of aggravation, always the injured party, full of recriminations and little hurts and stories I do not want to hear again, at once saddening me and angering me with her vulnerability and ignorance, an apparition all the more insistent for being so long banished.

It is a good idea, then, to keep in touch, and I suppose that keeping in touch is what notebooks are all about. And we are all on our own when it comes to keeping those lines open to ourselves: your notebook will never help me, nor mine you. "So what's new in the whiskey business?" What could that possibly mean to you? To me it means a blonde in a Pucci bathing suit sitting with a couple of fat men by the pool at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Another man approaches, and they all regard one another in silence for a while. "So what's new in the whiskey business?" one of the fat men finally says by way of welcome, and the blonde stands up, arches one foot and dips it in the pool looking all the while at the cabana where Baby Pignatari is talking on the telephone. That is all there is to that, except that several years later I saw the blonde coming out of Saks Fifth Avenue in New York with her California complexion and a voluminous mink coat. In the harsh wind that day she looked old and irrevocably tired to me, and even the skins in the mink coat were not worked the way they were doing them that year, not the way she would have wanted them done, and there is the point of the story. For a while after that I did not like to look in the mirror, and my eyes would skim the newspapers and pick out only the deaths, the cancer victims, the premature coronaries, the suicides, and I stopped riding the Lexington Avenue IRT because I noticed for the first time that all the strangers I had seen for years - the man with the seeing-eye dog, the spinster who read the classified pages every day, the fat girl who always got off with me at Grand Central - looked older than they once had.

It all comes back. Even that recipe for sauerkraut: even that brings it back. I was on Fire Island when I first made that sauerkraut, and it was raining, and we drank a lot of bourbon and ate the sauerkraut and went to bed at ten, and I listened to the rain and the Atlantic and felt safe. I made the sauerkraut again last night and it did not make me feel any safer, but that is, as they say, another story.

[beccalovesdarling]

Reach for the Stars Part 8

Chat’s clawing ceased; his mouth hanging open. No, please, no. He’d lost his Lady; he could not lose her too. “Marinette!” He yowled, his claws scraping fiercely against the finished wood separating them. The girl was silent below him, but he could faintly pick up her sniffles and shuffling with his enhanced hearing. His razors made marks against her door, but he could not stop himself from his destructive habit. He would claw the damn door off if he had too. His hands fisted and he began to pound on the door; his cry for Cataclysm loosely hanging on his tongue and threatening to slip at any second.

Rationally, he should have known his crazed actions would further scare her away, but he could not string two rational thoughts together for more than a mere second before Ladybug’s betrayed face assaulted him. He’d drove her away. He had chosen Marinette. He’d declared his love for the girl before his first love. He didn’t stop loving Ladybug. His heart still wept for her even as he begged for another girl.

Adrien had always wanted what he could never have. He wanted his mother and she had left. He wanted Gabriel and Ladybug and they both pushed him away. And now that Marinette belonged to another, he wanted her. He wanted to brush away her tears and hold her in his arms. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to prove that Ladybug’s words were wrong. That Marinette did love him.

Shudders coursed through his lean frame as he bowed over his quivering hands; his beating paused for the moment. “Mari,” he whispered. Her name fell from his lips like a prayer opposed to the curse that he barely managed to hold back. “Mari, please…”

He was broken.

Marinette never opened the door for him that night.

XXX

Gorilla dropped him off from school before pulling away from the curve. Plagg squirmed in Adrien’s pocket reminding him of their agreement from this morning. After Adrien had somehow managed to shower and dress despite his lack of sleep and enthusiasm, Plagg had demanded the two talk privately once they got away from Adrien’s babysitters. The boy trudged to the boys’ restroom and locked the door after checking that they were alone. Once secured, the kwami darted out. “Kid, it’s time to get to the bottom of this,” Plagg began without prompt. “You’ve not slept at all this week and you’re wearing me out with these runs to your love bugs.”

Adrien leaned back against the door, his right leg crossing over his left as he folded his arms. “There’s nowhere to go,” Adrien muttered. “They both hate me and I’m scared. Mari could become akumatized. And Ladybug could. If we can even get akumatized, I mean. And I can’t fight either of them. And if Ladybug fights Marinette, I don’t…” He lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as his eyes scrunched shut. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

“Exactly,” Plagg agreed. “We need to go see the Master.”

The boy peaked open an eye. “The who?”

Sighing, the black cat crossed his nubby arms. “He’s the one who gave you two the Miraculous. He probably can help fix this mess between you two.”

Adrien’s shoulders slumped. “You mean, this whole time, there was someone who could have helped us? Someone that knows who we both are? Why are you telling me this now?” His voice rose too loud at the end and Plagg shushed him.

“It wasn’t the right time,” Plagg grumbled. “Some Ladybugs and Black Cats never meet the Master. It’s been about a century or so since I’ve seen him. Tikki sees him more often. With how young you two are, I’d be surprised if Tikki hadn’t already directed Ladybug to go there.” Plagg narrowed his large eyes at his Chosen. “He doesn’t usually choose kids. I don’t know what he was thinking. You two should have never…” He trailed off with a flick of his tail. “Anyway, let’s ditch and go see him.”

Logically, Adrien should say no. He should shove the creature in his bag and go straight to homeroom. He should fist bump Nino, nod to Alya, and try to coax some response from Marinette. But, as his father complained time and again, Adrien was too much like his mother. He pushed away from the door with a flourish and unlocked the door. Plagg jumped into his shirt pocket as the boy strode out of the restroom; his mind set.

“Where’s the Master?” Adrien mumbled softly, his lips barely moving to prevent anyone from noticing his seemingly odd behavior.

“16th ARR,” Plagg drawled. “About a block before La Muette. It’ll look like a small siheyuan.”

Adrien nodded in understand as he heard his name called. He turned and saw Nino and Alya barreling towards him. He barely held back his grimace. He needed to get there now. Not that he didn’t love his friends, but the two girls he cared about were in danger and he needed help.

“Dude, you skipping too?” Nino assumed, his fist raised for their signature greeting as he stopped before him. Adrien quickly returned the greeting.

“Uh, yeah. I forgot about something very important and I need to go now.” Alya raised a brow skeptically at his excuse. “Nathalie just texted me. There’s a big, secret photoshoot that Père has been working on. Apparently the line just came in.”

Alya snorted. “That is the worst excuse ever, Agreste. But whatever,” she pulled out her mobile and thumbed it a few times before showing him a series of texts. “M is seriously scaring me right now. If you’re heading there, please…Please make sure my girl is ok. I don’t know what that jerk did to her, but if I ever see him I swear on my Ladyblog, I’ll end him.”

Adrien’s eyes widened as he scanned the messages.

Alya- How was meeting with your new beau?? ;)

Mari- I can’t do it. We got in a huge fight last night and he hit me. I deserved it, but I just never expected him to do that.

Alya- Who is this guy?! Whatever you did was not worth him laying a hand on you. Give me a name and we’ll take care of it.

Mari- No, Alya. It’s not that simple.

Alya- Of course it is!

Alya- Adrien seemed intense today when you mentioned him. And then he danced with you tonight. I bet if you talked to him he could help

Mari- I can’t bring Adrien into it. That was part of our fight.

Mari- I don’t want Adrien to get hurt.

Alya- What do you mean?

Alya- Mari??

“What do you know Agreste?”

Adrien could not meet Alya’s hard gaze. The shiver that traveled down his spine nearly toppled him over. This guy had hit his Princess? That had to be why she were so upset last night. And what was more, he had hit Marinette because of her feelings for him? Because they had danced last night? The events Marinette described plucked at his brain for another reason as the foremost anger rolled through him. Whoever had hit Marinette would-

Oh.

Oh, Dieu. He, as Chat Noir, had hit Ladybug while she defended her feelings for Adrien Agreste yet belittled his feelings for Marinette. They had been fighting about Adrien and Marinette as Chat Noir and Ladybug.

Marinette was Ladybug.

Adrien turned on his Converse heels and ran madly through the halls, completely ignoring his friends’ shouts.

XXX

Panting, Adrien looked up at the siheyuan through his slightly sweaty bangs. He had just emerged from the alleyway across the street. He had transformed into Chat to make the quit trip to the Master’s home and then detransformed across the way. “Is this the place?” He panted to Plagg.

“Yeah. It’s not changed at all. Well, according to Tikki anyway. I last saw him in China.” For all the months Adrien had known Plagg it was the first time he appeared to be genuinely excited about something that wasn’t cheese. It surprised Adrien before he thought how Plagg had lived for so long and barely got to see the few others who understood his plight. Surely it got boring just being around his Chosen. Adrien felt a pang of despair. He had always assumed Plagg disliked him, but this was confirmation. While Plagg would forever be a huge part of his life, Adrien would only be a small blip on Plagg’s radar. He’d surely had other better Chosen.

Plagg tilted his head and snorted. “Well. Look at that.” He pointed a nub. Adrien turned his attention back to the building to see Marinette Dupain-Cheng exit. He licked his dry lips. “Either you’re on the money about Marinette being your lovebug or she needs a new chiropractor.”

The two watched as the girl turned left and made her way down the sidewalk. Adrien waited for the girl to be out of sight before running across the street. Plagg shouted at him as he barely dodged a honking car. “Are you crazy?”

Adrien burst in the building. The heavy wooden door slamming against the entrance. There was another door at the end of the hallway. A closed sign was turned to depict the business would open tomorrow morning. Plagg rested on his shoulder. “They’re straight ahead. Master Fu and Wayz.”

Adrien nodded once and headed towards the door. He rested a hand on the knob and thought his hand would shake. All his questions would finally be answered and there were absolutely no nerves rushing through him as he pushed forward. Sitting in the middle of the room at a small table sipping tea was an old man.

“You…” Adrien trailed off as he pointed towards him. “You’re the man from the school.”

He was an older Asian man with white hair. He wore the same Hawaiian shirt he had the day Adrien had helped him. The day he had gotten the Miraculous ring and met Ladybug. He sipped from the small green cup before smiling at Adrien. “Hello, Chat Noir. I was wondering when Plagg would send you along. You must excuse him. He’s gotten lethargic in his old age. Tikki’s also tried to teach him manners, but he’s quite contrary.” Plagg hissed at him from Adrien’s shoulder. The Master’s smile grew. “Just scratch him behind the ears and he’ll do whatever you want,” he whispered conspiringly.

Plagg shot from his shoulder with another hiss and before he could begin his rant, Fu’s hand shot out to finger the special spot behind Plagg’s right ear. The cat fell into a purring lump on the table right next to an open book. Adrien ignored the sweetness of the moment to move closer. He examined the familiar book that was opened to a page with a hand drawn image of an ancient Ladybug. He dropped to his knees. “My father’s book…”

Plagg and Fu ceased their bonding to look at the boy. “Yes, Tikki mentioned it had been in your possession. Tell me, Adrien, was there anything else? A broach perhaps?”

Adrien pulled the book closer to him. Gently, he flipped to the next page where he knew his predecessor’s image would be. “Yeah,” he replied. “A little peacock tail broach. My mother used to wear it when I was a kid.” He looked up. “How did you get this? Why did Tikki have it?” If Tikki had given Fu that information, then did that mean Marinette had taken his book?

“All will be answered in time, young one.” Fu flipped a few pages to a peacock themed superhero Adrien had missed earlier. Fu tapped on the drawing of Adrien mother’s broach. “Was this there?”

Plagg groaned. “Seriously? You trusted this family with two Miraculous?”

A green blob zoomed from the corner of the room. Landing beside Plagg, the green creature nodded. Adrien cocked his head at the green turtle that resembled Plagg in appearance and size. Another kwami, he realized. “This is where the problem lies,” the kwami began. “After she died, Duusu should have come back to us. But she didn’t.” The turtle glared softly at Fu. “Honestly, I think when Master saw Adrien he may have given him the Cat Miraculous because of his soft spot for Mme. Agreste.” The kwami and master smiled faintly. “How rude of me,” the turtle said. He turned to Adrien with a smile. “I’m Wayz.”

Adrien nodded in greeting before barreling on. “Are you saying…Mère was…she had a Miraculous?”

Fu and Wayz nodded. “Yes,” Fu answered. “Mme. Agreste held the Peacock Miraculous once upon a time. And while it may have swayed my decision slightly, you were always destined to wield the Black Cat.” He flipped back to the Ladybug page. “Just like Marinette was destined to be Ladybug.”

Adrien met his eyes. “So, it’s true then? She’s…” Fu nodded. “I need to be with her,” Adrien started. “We can discuss all of this at another time, but my Lady needs me. What’s going on? She said she was being forced to be with someone…” He swallowed thickly. “I need to know…”

Fu nodded once more as he sipped his tea. “Marinette never wanted to be Ladybug. She suffers from severe anxiety. She’s always worried about not being good enough, but she takes her responsibilities seriously. However, as charming as it has been to watch you two dance around the other, a serious storm is coming.” He closed the book. “If the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous do not combine their strengths, more than Paris will be at stake. While I may have played my trump card too soon, I needed Marinette to put aside her feelings for your civilian side.” The short man stared up at Adrien. “It must be tough. You have so many adoring fans. And yet, none of them know you. None of them know your dreams and hopes. They see what they want and you must put on a show. You can’t crack under the pressure. One sign of weakness and it’s all over.”

Adrien’s brows knitted in confusion. “What does that have to do with Marinette’s feelings for me?” Yeah, it was tough living a double life and he was hurt that Ladybug had seemingly chose the model over the cat, but once he had started noticing Marinette’s feelings for the cat, Adrien felt at ease. This girl was struggling, but she had still found the courage to offer him comfort. And now knowing that the two were one and the same, it made so much sense. Of course Ladybug would choose Adrien. They went to school together. Ladybug had admitted to loving Adrien. Thus, Marinette loved him. But she…Ladybug had said Marinette would never love him. The girl he loved, only loved one side of him. They were both repulsed by his Chat side. But why, then, did she kiss him?

“I was referring to how Ladybug feels when you worship her,” Fu said. “Marinette so many times feels worthless and both her partner and the boy she cares for hold her other side, the side she hates, on a pedestal. Much like how she holds Adrien Agreste up. I knew once Marinette’s love for Adrien Agreste cracked, she would see you for who you were. In turn, you saw that Ladybug was human.”

��Of course she’s-“

“Her less redeemable qualities aside,” Fu interrupted with a shake of his head. “The pressure she was under, surely you understand? Ladybug has this thin line to walk. Much like Adrien Agreste.”

Adrien glanced at Plagg who was paying more attention to grooming his tail than the conversation at hand. His gaze fell to his lap. “I fell for the illusion,” he stated. “I was mad at Ladybug for loving the side of me I don’t like and yet…” His eyes closed in pain. “I did the same thing to her…”

“You two are fated for each other. Each Ladybug and Black Cat is,” Fu continued reassuringly. “Whether they be friends, family, or lovers. A few have turned against the other and Marinette feared after last night, it would happen to you two.” Adrien flinched at the implications. “I know you acted impulsively and would never normally do that. While you do hold your mother’s personality, never forget that a part of you is also Gabriel.”

“What does that mean?” He grumbled. He swore he would never turn into his father. If he and Marinette had children, he would adore them. He would never neglect them.

Wayz shook his head. “All will be revealed in time. For now, you need to go to Ladybug. You are the only one who can help her now. Tikki is holding off the akumas that would threaten her, but there is only so much she can do.”

He finally looked back up, his gaze shifting between Fu and the kwamis. “But she said she could never love me.”

Plagg rolled his eyes. “Oh come on,” he whined as he finally joined back into the conversation. “She was angry. That girl is head over heels for you.”

“You mean…she…?”

Fu smiled kindly at the young man. “Marinette loves you.”

Buy me a coffee??

[baronessblixen]

It got long so you get a read more. Prompt was “I don’t want to have a baby”. This has been on my mind for DAYS. A mid-ep kind of thingy I suppose for “Home”. 

"I don't want to have a baby." Melissa's voice tears through the darkness and startles her sister. Dana turns around, causing the chair to squeak loudly, further disturbing the quiet like a warning signal. She can't see Melissa in the yellowish light her desk lamp provides. Her sister is bathed in darkness instead, hidden in the shadows.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh you know… things."

"Very random things, Melissa. Why are you even thinking about babies? You should be thinking about college or finding work." All Dana is thinking about these days is college. Doing well. Becoming a medical doctor. She's trying to get a glimpse of her older sister sitting there on the bed, but all she sees, or thinks she sees, is a silhouette. Her long hair falls into her face and she brushes it away quickly, almost angrily. She needs to get it cut and soon. It's not practical and Dana is practical – or wants to be anyway. Long, wavy hair is for girls who spent their days at the beach. Dana is no longer that girl.

"A career is not the most important thing in the world." The sheets rustle and Melissa comes into sight. She smiles secretively and leans over Dana's shoulder to look at her homework. Who does homework on a Friday night? She shakes her head gently in disbelief before she sits back down on the bed again. Melissa's hair is long and unruly. Dana used to be so jealous of her soft curls. Melissa has never tried to tame them and only ever laughed at their mother when she suggested a different hair cut. Dana touches her own hair now. She's going to miss it, she thinks, wearing it short.

"You need to earn money, Melissa," Dana flinches; sometimes she sounds just like their parents, "before you can even start a family."

"That's just it, though. I don't want that. I just want to see the world. You know?" The two sisters stare at each other. Once or twice an aunt will mix them up at a family gathering and they both end up giggling. Dana loves her sister fiercely; these months without her while Melissa was out travelling, doing her thing (throwing her life away, their father has grumbled once), have been hard. Just having her here now, even when Dana can't keep away from studying, feels right. But sometimes, times like right now, Dana is not sure she understands her sister; wonders if they grew up in the same household with the same parents.

"You can still change your mind. You don't have to do what mom did and have babies this young." Melissa smiles at something only she can see. Dana feels like she should turn around and try to figure out what exactly it is her sister is looking at.

"I don't want to have a baby, Dana." There's determination in her voice and Dana startles; she gets it now. Her heart starts beating faster as her homework is forgotten for the moment. This is real life, she realizes; not numbers, not some theory she can pick apart. Her sister is confiding something real even if she's not saying the words.

"Oh my god, Melissa…" she whispers. She doesn't know what else to say or do right now. She's heard about girls who got into trouble; that's how the adults would always put it. Got into trouble. Her sister nods as if to confirm it. She puts her legs under her and for a moment Dana wonders what her sister would look like pregnant. She'd be an aunt. The thought seems foreign to her still. They're both just so young.

"I'm so proud of you, Dana. For doing what you do. Going to college and doing exactly what you want to do. Don't let mom or dad ever push you, all right?" Dana is frozen in place; she can't move, can barely think. She has so many questions for her sister and yet she can't ask any of them. Not now. Not in her childhood room, not in the house where their parents sleep.

"Forget I said anything, Dana."

"I can't, Melissa. This is… this is… have you talked to anyone? Maybe there's a different way? What about the… you know?" Melissa shoots her one of her 'oh Dana' looks before she puts on a bright smile. Her sister, the enigma.

"It was a fling, Dana. Never more. It's all taken care of. I don't want a baby. Now or possibly ever. It's not something I can just talk about over breakfast with mom and dad."

"But…"

"You on the other hand," Melissa sighs, getting up; Dana knows she is going to leave now. Not to her own bedroom, but somewhere. Melissa always goes somewhere. "You're going to be a great mother one day. A wonderful doctor and an even better mother. Trust me, Dana. I know it." And she's just gone.

Scully wakes with a gasp. She needs a moment to remember where she is; she's not in her home, not in her bed. No, she is in Home, Pennsylvania, in a hotel room. She takes a few deep breaths, relaxes again. A glance at her watch tells it's shortly after midnight. Scully rubs her eyes but the images of Melissa on that night remain with her. She hasn't thought about it in ages. Pushed it from her mind like so many things. They never talked about it again; Scully immersing herself in her studies and Melissa, like she'd planned, travelling the world. Now, though, she thinks about it with a heavy heart. Melissa hadn't wanted a child back then. A child, Scully realizes, that would now be an orphan.

She knows she won't be able to fall back asleep. Mulder. The thought of him pushes forward in her brain. At least he knows what it's like to wake from nightmares. As she gets up, reality and dream merge together: Melissa telling her she'll be a wonderful mother, Mulder with his intense glare telling her he's never seen her as one before. Him mockingly calling her mom. A noise on the other side of the wall tells her that Mulder is still awake just like she suspected. She puts a shirt over her tank top and runs her hands through her hair, unnecessarily as it's only Mulder, before she goes to his room, knocks quietly. There is some shuffling and then Mulder opens the door. Unlike her, he apparently didn't think about putting on a shirt. He raises his eyebrows at her, obviously surprised she's still awake.

"Did I keep you up, Scully? I'm sorry, I was just watching this documentary – it's the only station I could make work. I'll turn it down."

"No, Mulder. I couldn't – I just woke up," he stares at her trying to figure out if she's telling the truth, "I had a – can I come in?" Now he's even more surprised but he steps away to let her in. True to his word, there is a documentary flickering on the screen. Scully doesn't pay much attention to it, doesn't care. There is something on her mind, it seems, and she'll never sleep if she doesn't talk about it.

"Too quiet for you to sleep here?" Mulder chuckles at his own bad joke. He still doesn't think about putting on a shirt. Of course Scully has seen his naked chest plenty of times (she's seen much more than just his naked chest), but right now it adds to her anxiety.

"I slept just fine, actually," she replies feeling weary; Mulder tends to plant himself on every piece of furniture whether it's in her hotel rooms or her home. This time she decides to do the same and she sits on the unused side of his bed while he watches her from across the room.

"I had a bad dream." Scully finally admits. "Or maybe not a bad one just… it woke me up." He nods, understanding. Slowly, as if expecting her to stop him, he walks over to his bed and glances at her, still waiting for her to tell him to sit somewhere else, and when she remains quiet, sits down himself.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks without looking into her direction.

"No." Scully immediately answers. She doesn't want to talk about Melissa, or babies. I never saw you as a mother before, he said earlier. The words ring in her ears unwanted. She wonders how he does see her. As a partner. His colleague. His friend, most likely. Does he even see her as a woman? She chances a glance over at him; he's chewing on sunflower seeds, his eyes directed at the screen, but she is absolutely certain that his mind is somewhere else. She runs her hand through her hair again and she sighs. Her hair is short, it's practical; just like she'd planned it years and years ago in college.

"You can watch this thing with me," Mulder tells her, "I swear it has no mutants, aliens or even babies." So much for not thinking about those.

"Mulder?"

"Hm?" But he's still not looking at her.

"Could you really live in a place like this?" His head turns to her and he doesn't even need to think about his answer.

"Yeah," there is no mockery inside his voice, nothing to indicate he's not truthful, "I'd love to live in a place like this. If things were… different." His sister, she thinks. If he didn't have to look for his sister, he'd move to some one-horse town in the middle of nowhere.

"You wouldn't live here alone." It's not a question. Scully tries to picture a tall brunette business woman living in a place like this. She can't. Then again, she can't really imagine Mulder living here either. Without his suits, without a cell phone; just an average man. Mulder might be many things, but average is not one of them.

"I guess not." Is all he says, putting another sunflower seed into his mouth and cracking it loudly.

"You'd have a wife, children and a dog. A normal life." Again, not a question. Scully knows she should stop; realizes it when he slowly turns to her, his expression unreadable.

"Isn't that what everyone wants? A normal life. Where would you live, Scully? If you didn't have to put up with your spooky partner."

"I like my life, Mulder. I like living where I live." It's the truth, she realizes, even if she's never pictured herself living in a city. She used to think she'd move to the suburbs, live the picket fence dream with 2.5 children and a husband, a cat and a dog. You're going to be a great mother one day, Melissa had told her. Dana had believed her; Scully on the other hand wasn't sure her life was still set on that path. Or if she still wanted it. The thought tugged at something deep inside of her. Just like a small child might tug at her hand demanding her attention.

"You wouldn't want to live in a place like this and raise your Über-Scullys? You want to raise them in the city?"

"I haven't exactly put much thought into where I would want to raise my hypothetical children, Mulder." It's a lie, but Mulder nods anyway.

"You should think about it, Scully." He tells her, his eyes dark and intense. Scully can't look away. It's as if he's trying to make her see something, but she feels blind. Or blinded by him.

"Think about where I want to raise children I may never have?" Mulder nods again.

"You'll have them," he says decidedly, "I know you will." Scully thinks she detects sadness in his voice. She doesn't understand why.

"I thought you didn't see me as a mother." He smiles; not at her, no, at the screen. The smile, though, it reminds her of Melissa. Seeing things she herself can't.

"Mulder." She says, hoping he'll look at her; he doesn't. She touches his hand that's next to her on the bed. He's warm, feels solid. He tilts his head and blinks at her.

"I try not to see you as a lot of things, Scully." His voice is gentle, his smile exhausted and shy. "But you're going to be a wonderful mother one day." He adds, nodding to himself. The same words. The same words Melissa used.

"Why, Mulder?" She whispers; he can't know what Melissa said back then. He doesn't know about the baby that never was. The words escape her without her consent. Mulder shrugs next to her, unaware of the emotional turmoil inside of her.

"You're my partner, Scully." She waits for him to continue and when he doesn't she decides to let it go. It's enough for tonight. She yawns and Mulder grins at her; for a split second her mind plays a trick on her. She sees a small boy with that same grin, the same set of lips, the strong chin. He's calling out for her, yelling mommy and squeaking happily, while Mulder is chasing after him, their joint laughter a heavenly sound.

"What is this documentary anyway, Mulder?" Scully tears herself away from the image, makes the mental bubble pop; she's got to be practical now, get some sleep. She snuggles deeper into the bed, ignoring the fact that this is Mulder's hotel room, and closes her eyes tentatively.  

"Oh, it's about cacti. Did you know that some cacti can live up to 300 years?"

"Hm. Tell me more about cacti." Scully mumbles. She knows she should go back to her own room, sleep in her own bed, but it's too comfortable here. The steady hum of the TV, Mulder's beautiful voice and his warmth right next to her. They don't need to lock the door here, not when Mulder is by her side; there's no need to be scared of anything. You're going to be a great mother, the voice now a blend of Mulder's and Melissa's. A smile appears on Scully's face as she listens to the soft rumble of Mulder's voice.

Her last thought before sleep overwhelms her is how she should have told Mulder that he's going to be a great father, too. One day.

[bee-careful]

Vampire Au Fic Rec

Waiting On You 76k

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

and i’ll find your lips in the street lights 4k

“Do you always ramble when you talk, Curly?” he asks, leaning against the kitchen island that sort of sticks out into the entry to the flat.

“I’m Harry.”

“So you said.” Louis’ grin gets wider.

Harry blushes. Fuck, he was so much smoother as a human. And who knew vampires could still blush. He’s never seen Liam blush. He’s the lucky enigma it seems.

“I’m, uh. Gonna go… In my room.” Harry points vaguely in the direction of his bedroom. “Make yourself at home. There’s blood in the fridge. And other snacks. And things. Help yourself. I’ll leave you to get, you know, settled.”

Louis smiles even bigger at that. “I was actually gonna go out,” he says. “It’s been ages since I’ve gone dancing. Are you up for it, Curly?”

Or, Harry is a newbie vampire who hasn’t fully gotten the hang of the whole afterlife thing, but Louis might be just what he needs.

Nocturnal Creatures Are Not So Prudent 24k

Louis spins a finger in midair, like he’s indicating someone to turn around, staring pointedly at Liam as the faucet turns itself on and the can rinses itself in the sink behind him. Liam, moon burn him, doesn’t rise to the bait, choosing instead to lean back on his stool and wrapping his hands around his own mug.

“Anyway, like I was saying and that you were ignoring, there’s this new club near my school and I want you to go with me. Could do you some good, getting out once in awhile.”

Louis is a white witch with a little black cat named Hemlock and a best human friend Liam (they’re a lot like Samantha Stephens and Louise Tate). When he’s dragged out to a new club Liam’s heard about from a friend and classmate, Louis comes face to face with that which witches do not touch: a charming vampire by the name of Harry.

As Cold as a Whisper 48k

Harry did not turn around to face Louis yet and Louis’ body screamed at him to take the opportunity and run. Run until he couldn’t anymore, until his lungs collapsed out of breath and he was either safe and away or caught back in Harry’s gaze.

Harry turned then, and his eyes were darker than the heavens and just as green as the haunting woods surrounding them, entrapping Louis. Focused, and clear.

Louis’ heart rattled in his ribcage, shaking, wanting to escape his unmoving body. Harry walked closer and Louis’ eyes stayed on him, breath leaving in a sharp exhale when Harry bent down to touch his face.

A fairy tale au where people in Louis’ village are disappearing and Louis is married off to uphold a centuries long agreement.

Carnelian 30k

“It’s a donor matching center for humans and vampires.”

“Vampires.” Louis snorts. “Like pretend vampires, like for people who think they are vampires?”

The humor clearly lost on Zayn as he answers calmly, “No, real vampires.”

“There’s no such thing as vampires.” Louis rolls his eyes. “You’re fucking with me or something.” Louis flicks his cigarette to the ground.

“I’m not.” Zayn speaks, his tone harsh and deeper than Louis remembers. “There are vampires all around you. We are quite civilized beings. We have careers, business, and we enjoy nights out on the town just like humans do. We aren’t savages. We blend in with the rest of the world. However, no advancement in science has fixed our one problem that makes us different than humans…We still need blood to live and we love it fresh from the source.”

OR

Louis finds himself donating blood to the most beautiful being he’s ever seen.

Pour Yourself Over Me (Until There’s Nothing Left To See) ~6k

Louis receives a strange invitation to a masquerade ball from a stranger who offers to pay for everything.

fortune’s fools 8k 

It’s about respecting the night and the reason they’ve come together. It’s a rite of passage, as it were, a symbol of status, and that’s the only thing that keeps Louis from skiving off and going for a run with Liam.

And he knows Lottie would chew off his left arm if he kept her away from the first All Hallows’ Ball she’s eligible for. So he keeps himself plastered to her side as soon as they step into the foyer, works hard at keeping his claws at bay once they’re behind enemy lines. It’s a hard habit to unlearn, but he’s trying.

Louis likes an armistice as much as the next lad, but until he sees some sort formal treaty, he generally trusts the vamps about as far as he can throw them. Which is, admittedly, quite far, but not far enough. He’s here to represent the pack, and that’s all. He won’t pick a fight. But he will finish one if it starts, he has to. The war resumes at sunrise anyway.

[Or, two immortal households, both alike in dignity.]

untitled vampire/asexual incubus AU 10k

“You’re a vampire,” Harry says, wrapping his fingers around Louis’ wrist.

“I am,” Louis admits. “Still workin’ on what you are, love.”

[will never be finished]

Eternal Love 8k 

“If this city weren’t full of idiots like you who think the world’s a safe place, I’d starve to death,” the man’s voice said, dark humour lacing the words.

Louis had been dreaming of the green-eyed vampire for as long as he could remember; his mate from a lifetime past.

The reality doesn’t go quite as expected…

till the heavens burst  46k

Part 1

“What about you then? How old are you?”

“Nineteen.” Harry gives him his flatest look he can manage, holding out until Louis’ lips twitch with a smile and he starts snickering. “Oh, alright, I see you’re not into that cliché.”

Harry finally smiles, happy he’s going to get what he wants.

Harry meets a pretty boy while hiding out in a tree. He’s pretty sure the boy is a vampire.

till the sun don’t shine 7k

Part 2

“Hey, mate! Having a good time over there?” Niall’s voice is way too loud for the suffocating silence on Louis’ end.

“I killed Harry.” Louis’ lip trembles and he feels dangerously close to crying again, throat and chest aching.

“Congratulations! I’m happy for you two.” Louis can’t help but let out a dry laugh.

“No, Niall. I think I honestly killed him, he still hasn’t woken up.”

or: life after death.. an epilogue following Harry’s first few days after being changed

Wherever you go, bring me home 9k

Part 1

“Do you know these could kill you?” he asked, pointing towards the lit cigarette in his hand with so much concern laden in his voice that Louis almost felt guilty. Almost. Because then he realised it shouldn’t matter what Louis did with his life choices, to this man. No matter how persuasive his voice was, it shouldn’t. Louis shouldn’t care. Not at all.

So Louis maintained a composed stance, cocking his hip out slightly. Never mind that this was his flirting pose. Never mind. He flicked the butt and shrugged. He hoped he came off cool and confident. “Eh what can you do?”

Louis is a grumpy vampire who is unaware that it is Halloween and has a lot of issues and panic attacks. Harry is a joyous human who is dressed in a vampire costume unaware that he’s talking to a real vampire.

I’ll Make This Feel Like Home 14k

Part 2

Harry woke up a little disoriented, head pounding and ears ringing with the sunlight bright against his eyes. He squeezed them shut, but it did little help as spots danced in front his closed eyelids. He felt the contents of his stomach rise up and he knew he would be ditsy if he were standing. Why did he ever drink?

Harry rewound back his memory a little. He wasn’t all that drunk last night but he got bad hangovers anyway. He remembered getting out of his shift dressed as a vampire, solemnly swearing to himself that he wouldn’t drink. Then why did he do so?

Basically this is the next morning.

someday my pain will mark you 10k

Ziam

So here Liam is―Uncertain vampire. Unwilling to drink from a Normal. Bored out of his mind. Helplessly in love with a bloody werewolf, for fuck’s sake.

Oh, and a prince.

What a mercifully pleasant and charmed life he’s been living (not-living?) for quite some time now.

(Or alternatively: Liam is probably the world’s worst vampire, who has fallen quite madly in love with Zayn, the world’s most reluctant werewolf)

Suckin’ your blood until your heart stops beating 1.8k

It started quite innocent really.

Or, well, as innocent as a vampire club with your 300+ year old boyfriend grinding against you can be.

Or the Vampire AU where Harry and Louis fuck and Louis comes three times.

Written In The Stars 71k

It was so different - the complete opposite of everything Louis had ever expected about finally being placed into the real world. Zayn defied every single thing he’d ever been told about vampires, about how he was supposed to be treated. This was nothing like what he’d expected.

[or: Zayn’s the third oldest vampire in the world and found himself searching out the company of a human, so he took Louis as his keep. His maker Harry doesn’t approve.]

Beauty in Bedlam 7k

“You’re not a vampire,” Louis scoffs. He’s never seen anyone less vampire-like in his life. The man is wearing gold boots for christ’s sake. Sparkly gold boots.

“Louis,” Liam hisses, looking mortified.

“What?” Louis asks, affronted. “He can’t be a vampire! He’s…dimpling!” Curly-apparently-Harry the vampire wannabe is indeed dimpling and looking entirely too amused for Louis’ liking.

“Vampires aren’t allowed to have dimples?” Harry asks, bemused.

“The dimples are just the first thing on the list, mate,” Louis assures him.

Eternity 9k

Part 1

Louis’s been turned into a vampire in the middle of tour. He’s trying to figure out what comes with being a vampire while also hiding his new found vampirism from the boys… with some added complications.

Ecstasy 17k

Part 2

“And the most important part for me, we’d have forever. I would give up food and sleep and everything that meant being human if it meant I could be with you forever. I want this so much Louis, and I’m not changing my mind about it.”

Two years later, and Louis has to decide whether or not he can keep his deal with Harry and turn him into a vampire.

Give Me a Memory I Can Use 41k

Louis is a brilliant, yet broke PhD student, Harry’s a pretentious and arrogant vampire, and first impressions have never been more deceiving.

Or the one where Louis and Harry will always have Rome. And San Francisco. And London. And each other.

You’ve got me running from the daylight 15k

If there was one thing that Louis had never, ever wanted in his whole vampire life, it was having to protect a bratty newborn from five fucking vampire clans. Too bad he got stuck with the assignment anyway.

Or the one where Harry and Louis are both vampires and acting like assholes towards each other until at some point they can’t anymore.

Like Spilled Garnets 14k

Self indulgent fic with very little plot. AU where Harry and Niall are vampires who go to college as a hobby, Louis is the human willing to endure any adversities that come with dating an ancient vampire, and Liam is the over protective best friend.

Bite 10k

“I’m going to hunt you for real now, Harry,” Louis whispers.

“If this,” Harry says, rolling his hips so that they rub against where Louis is most definitely still hard, “is what you mean by hunting, then count me in, babe.”

Louis is a vampire hunter, and Harry is too happy being his prey.

Tell Me Something That’ll Change Me ˜5k

“What happened to me, you fucking—” Louis’ eyes shot open as he felt a burst of cold air into his mouth. That doesn’t usually happen…does it?, Louis thought. Something didn’t feel right. Immediately, Louis’ hand flew to his mouth, feeling around his upper row of teeth only to find a small gap…where both his front teeth were chipped half off.

A self-indulgent vampire!Harry fic featuring miscommunication, shady dentistry, and a hint at heavy petting.

warm blood feels good 7k

It’s stupid to try and hide anything from a vampire, isn’t it? Louis could track every stutter of his heartbeat from across the city, if he wanted. There’s no way he’s missed Harry’s reaction to him. A bloody blind idiot can’t have missed it.

Louis is a vampire. Harry’s… obsessed. AU

you are something i should do without ˜39k

Ziam

It’s been a handful of days, and quite honestly, Liam is content to spend the rest of eternity lying in bed watching Zayn smoke a cigarette, standing naked by the open window while it rains.

There’s a sated warmth that sits underneath Liam’s skin as he lays there, watching Zayn, blinking his eyes closed like sleep will take him. It doesn’t; he’s too keyed up even though every part of his spent body aches when he moves. Liam sits up and Zayn turns to look at him. He’s a mess, but it’s lovely; his hair is askew, marks all over his body, made by Liam’s mouth and his teeth, he’s covered in sweat and come and there’s a smear of blood on his chest and—

Something possessive bubbles up inside of Liam. Mine.

He doesn’t quite know what to do with that feeling, the need to have Zayn right by his side, lying there, breathing softly as he sleeps, or humming dirty songs in the kitchen as he forces himself to make breakfast or lunch, or talking with that voice and that lilt of an accent that makes his words sound colorful. Liam doesn’t know what to do with that need.

or; Liam’s a vampire and Zayn doesn’t remember anything.

Take A Bite Outta Me 4k

Louis truly resents the implication that he is basically Harry’s own version of Bella goddamn Swan, because seriously, no. Just no. But the issue is that even this stupid Meyeresque revelation has done absolutely nothing to dampen his attraction to this weirdly charming vampire man who dresses in 8000 pound coats and hangs around in dilapidated buildings with his merry band of ethical bloodsuckers.

Louis is a slightly inept vampire hunter. Harry is a slightly unique vampire. They meet.

let me outshine the moon 9k

Part 1

“Fuck,” echoes Liam, shaking his head at them with a small smile on his face. “Just don’t get yourselves killed.”

“You can come too, if you want,” says Niall, standing up.

“I wouldn’t be caught dead at a vampire bar,” Liam scoffs, standing up as well. “Wait. Fuck.”

…or, boarding school students Niall and Harry chance a trip to the local vampire bar.

a moth to your flame 9k 

Part 2

Harry attends a Halloween party with his vampire boyfriend Louis and gets more than he bargained for.

worlds will sing as we fall 7k 

Part 3

Harry doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, during which time Liam gets up and excuses himself to the bathroom, practically running out of the room.

“Wait, so what kind of silver are we talking?” he asks eventually. “Like - jewelry? Or-”

“You’re actually considering this?” Zayn asks, rubbing his hands together with glee. “Oh, Lou’s going to owe me a large favor for this.”

… or, Harry discovers one of his vampire boyfriend’s favorite kinks.

Run and I’ll Give Chase 24k

Part 1

“You go out every night and maybe you’re able to drink without hurting anyone, but you’re still thirsty, aren’t you? Still have an itch you can’t scratch. A need you can’t put a name to. You desire a companion.”

“You mean a keeper?” Harry corrects with venom in his voice. “Someone to put a leash on me.”

“Wouldn’t need a leash, love.” Louis whispers sensually, and he is suddenly behind Harry, too fast for his eyes to keep track of. “You’re practically pliant just by being in my presence. Of course, if you’re into that sort of thing, I could always get you a lovely collar with a matching leash once you decide to take me up on my offer.”

Or, Harry is a fledgling vampire without a maker. Louis is graciously offering to fill that role.

Jump and I’ll Catch You 13k

Part 2

“Anyway,” Niall coughs once him and Zayn pull apart, “Zayn has something to tell you, Louis.”

“No I don’t.” Zayn quickly denies, looking almost panicked. Harry watches as Louis shifts his confused expression between the two.

“What is it?”

“Liam knows about Harry.” Niall reveals, hands tugging at the material of Zayn’s shirt. “He’s coming here tomorrow. Figured we should give you a heads up.”

Sequel to Run and I’ll Give Chase.

Hide and I’ll Seek 25k

Part 3?

“I don’t want to impose-“  

“Nonsense.” Louis interrupts, waving away Niall’s worry.

“I need a place to stay.”

They’re quiet for a while, and Niall can practically hear them communicating telepathically, before deciding not to leave them speculating.

“I need some time away from Zayn.”

Or eternity is a long time to be in a relationship. It allows endless problems to occur, especially if you keep secrets. But it can also give you time to mend what you break.

I’ll Make This Feel Like Home 3k

“Here’s to another two hundred years, love,” Harry lifts his glass in a toast.

“To another two hundred years,” Louis echoes, lifting his glass to match. “Just try not to get staked going out to get milk again, yeah?”

Their glasses meet with a clink in the middle, and they both take long sips from the liquid, their eyes meeting fondly over the rims of their glasses.

Or,

The one where Louis and Harry are vampires who’re very much in love and are celebrating their 200th anniversary of the day they met.

Something To Live For 5k

After over a century of waiting for Harry to realize they’re mates, Louis gets his heart broken when his friend announces he’s found his ‘one’ in a human girl named Teresa. Wanting only happiness for Harry, Louis accepts that it just wasn’t meant to be and decides it’s time to let go of the immortal life.

the blood rushing sweet 10k

Part 1

Harry is 16 and his protective mother finally lets him go trick-or-treating this Halloween. Harry, dressed as an angel, runs into Louis, who is dressed as a vampire (and actually is one).

If I Could Fly 10k

Part 2

tasting me like blood in your mouth 5k

Louis smirked against their meshing lips, and pulled back to gaze at Harry lovingly. He pet his cheek and smiled a bit softer, said, “you look so pretty with your blood all over your mouth.”

Harry giggled and wiped at the corner of his lips with his thumb, and felt his sticky blood. He sucked his thumb and heatedly looked at Louis. “Daddy, please fuck me now?”

“Of course, darling,” he said, kissing his cheek.

My Reflection; All I See Is You 38k 

Ziam

Part 1

This life, it’s forever. That’s what being immortal means, but Zayn didn’t realize it would take him this long to realize it. What good is forever if nothing else is?

Everything I Do 28k

Ziam

Part 2

This life, it’s forever. And Zayn has found his forever but does he want this same life for Liam?

Love Affair With a Vampire 6k

Part 1

"There aren’t enough words in any language to even begin describing my feelings for you, Louis Tomlinson.”

The Wingman  1k

Part 2

Interview With a Vampire was far more interesting than Liam’s lectures on his unsociable-ness… was that even a word?

《Prequel to Love Affair With a Vampire》

read you for some kind of poem 11k

Part 1

He likes to imagine that he’s always aware of Harry’s eyes on him, but the spark that flashes across his body at how often Harry licks his lips while looking at his throat doesn’t feel like something he’s explicitly and consciously acknowledged before, but it feels familiar. Usual. Right.

(Louis is human, and Harry is lucky enough to be his vampire boyfriend.)

painting the hills blue and red 12k

Part 2

It’s not that he’s obsessed with his own body—although he does know that it’s a nice one—but Harry is obsessed with his body, and Harry likes leaving reminders all over to make sure that Louis remembers. To make sure that everyone else knows.

(Louis is still human, Harry is his vampiric one true, and things are looking a lot more permanent than they were two years ago.)

Etched In Blood 6k

Harry’s first time meeting a vampire did not go as expected.

“Fuck, you taste like blood and my cock,” Louis groaned, pulling away wild-eyed.

Not as expected at all.

The Lion Man 12k

Louis is a vampire who loves tattoos and piercings as much as he loves a good feed. Harry is a biology student who gets dragged to a vampire bar (really, of all places) by his friends and happens to have blood that tastes like maraschino cherries. They’re both a bit addicted and they’re neither a bit ashamed.

How to Taste Delicious 7k

Niam

Liam was used to his boring life. Going to his boring job and then heading to the pub afterwards to be the third wheel to his friends relationship. But then a mysterious figure showed up in his life and helped him realize that things aren’t always what they seem, and that some Vampires were picky with their choice of blood.

Vampire!Niam fic

(Niall is introduced as James for a few paragraphs)

Abandoned and Found 23k

Ziall

Niall dosen’t come to school for a week. Zayn goes over to his house to check up on him, only to discover the unimaginable.

If I Was Your Vampire 6k 

His neck was exposed, and it was pretty clear Louis was waiting for Harry to claim the naked skin as his.

When there was no reaction, however, Louis opened his eyes and looked up at Harry from a somewhat awkward angle. The wide, downright hungry stare he was receiving from Harry who seemed like he was in an entire other universe kind of scared him, and when he didn’t see Harry blink for several following seconds but his tongue continued to wet his lips, Louis, now growing afraid, asked, “Harry? Are – are you okay?”

Just another Vampire AU

All you can eat. 17k

“You didn’t deny thinking about me while watching porn either, though.” Harry smiled and brushed his curls to the side before leaning over the desk so he was closer to Louis. “Do you stroke your big cock to those corny student teacher porn videos? Do you get mad when you watch? Because god, it’s so fucking cheesy. But you can’t help the way you start to come when the student starts moaning, ‘Ugh fuck professor fuck me.’ Because somehow it’s hot, and maybe it’s hot because you want to hear a certain student moaning professor while you fuck them over your desk. Now isn’t that right, Professor Tomlinson?”

~ or the one where human harry seduces his hot teacher professor tomlinson, who happens to be a vampire ~

Sink Your Teeth in and Don’t Look Back 8k 

But when Louis felt his fangs growing in his mouth, an irresistible urge to bitebitebite coming over him, he knew he had to get out of there before someone noticed.

Unluckily for Louis, brown eyes trained his every move, they knew all too well what the signs of his behaviour were, and they sure as hell weren’t gonna do nothing about it.

Or…

Louis is a vampire and no one in the band knows until they do.

In Your Eyes 1k

Louis can’t see himself in a mirror so Harry tells him what he looks like.

finding you was so hard (but loving you is easy) 66k 

An incredibly shameless vampire!AU filled with stupid jokes, endless dates, flappy bird, a bro man dude pal sleepover thing and there also might be some sex in strange places.

Also known as the one where everyone is a vampire, Louis is oblivious and somewhere along the way it becomes a bit too much like Twilight.

Then a string of thoughts make themselves clear in Louis’ head. First, Harry is a vampire. Second, Louis is a dumbass. Third, Louis is also unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him. Fourth, he’s pretty sure he just quoted the back of the Twilight book.

Bloodstream 3k

“Its been three months.

Three months since Louis had turned Harry.

Also three months since Louis had seen Harry.

He went M.I.A. ever since he found out the kind of creature Louis had turned him into. He left in a fit of rage, and decided to never come back. It both hurt and surprised Louis to say the least.”

vampire!au in which both Louis and Harry are vampires and have hot vampire sex.

The Fragmented Veil 28k

In which Louis gets attacked one night in the dark. It changes his life, just not in the way he expected.

The Look In Our Eyes 1k

Harry and Louis have been vampires for many decades. One night they decide to get drunk, their curiosity and insecurities get to the best of them and this is what happens.

Bite me 5k

Louis is a vampire and Harry is a human who plays hard to get. Top!Louis ladies and gentlemen

Corrupt Me 9k 

Ziam

Liam is a blushing mess.

Zayn may just be jealous of what Louis has

Lover Dearest 43k

Ziam

“First rule, babe,” Zayn says, leaning down. His lips slide over Liam’s jaw, barely there, just a soft pressure, fleeting and gone as soon as it came. “Never trust a vampire.”

He’s grinning as he climbs off Liam, heading for the door. Liam watches him go, thinking that he’s wrong. The first rule should be to not fall in love with one.

Soul Meets Body 1k

Vampire!Louis takes blood from Harry for the first time while getting him off.

blood bank 8k

be my vampire, baby, i’ll be your boy. (or, in the middle of a snowstorm, their car breaks down and harry’s stuck with louis, a vampire).

Wrap your body on my mind 6k

“So, you know how that hickey thing bothers me?” Louis chooses to start, not wanting to spring the strong stuff on Harry right away.

He gets a nod from Harry, whose eyes search his with an unspoken question.

“Well, I was googling some stuff online,” Louis continues, “and I came across these collars that people use to, uh, remember who they belong to. Like, sexually?

Harry’s a vampire who doesn’t bruise, Louis is his possessive boyfriend.

Promised with Intent 1k

So there’s a blood-curse on Louis that prevents him from using his magic. And there’s I’m sorryHecate only knows how many vampires on the other side of his wards. And all he’s got to defend himself is a fireplace poker. They’re still not going to take his son from him, not while he’s still breathing.

Staring down at his son’s terrified, lost expression he comes to a decision. He knows what he has to do, but he doesn’t have to like it. The desire to protect his child at all costs is the only thing that could ever make him consider an alliance with his hated enemy-a vampire from the Styles Clan.

A Real Boy 29k

Harry is a college student who is forced to live with his dad in Portland. Louis is a vampire, who’s in Portland to catch a hunter. They meet, drama ensues, they fall in love and this is their story.

Or

The not so Twilight fic where Harry falls hopelessly in love with vampire Louis Tomlinson.

Won’t keep watching you dance around in your smoke,and flicker out 8k

The way things look like, Louis knows well enough, usually. That’s what happens when you can’t see yourself: you just absorb every single detail, drink them like the most precious nectar. The beauty that surrounds you feeds your imagination, helps you feel the gaps of what you can’t see. Louis doesn’t know what he looks like anymore. It feels like an eternity now - maybe thirty years, maybe forty, he doesn’t even know anymore. He stopped counting when he realised there wasn’t any way out.

How shallow of him, he thinks, to grow tired of the world just because he doesn’t quite know the way he interacts with it, isn’t quite sure of what role he plays and what use there is in him being out there, half himself, half a shadow.

Or, Louis is a vampire who hasn’t been able see himself in almost half a century until he meets Harry, who happens to be the only one who sees him for what he really is.

All That Matters 12k

Harry comes to NY with a bag of clothes, and lots of dreams. Tired of sleeping in Niall’s spare bedroom, Harry decides to get a job. When Harry applies for Louis’ bartender position he gets a lot more than what he bargained for after falling for vampire Louis Tomlinson.

Beating Heart 18k

After a wild night out at a campus party, Louis wakes up the next morning to find that his dorm mate, Stan Lucas, has mysteriously disappeared. As Louis and his friends desperately begin their search for him, mystery comes in another form as Harry Styles- Louis` new, weird, and really attractive replacement dorm mate. Documenting the entire search, and new love affair, the search for Stan begins all the while creating new mysteries that may ultimately lead to his discovery.

(Heavily based on the web series “Carmilla”)

Heartbeat 1k

Part 1

Hatred.

Hatred like nothing he’s ever felt in his long life rises up inside of him for the woman he left slumped on the sofa. She deserves death. Death by his hand. Slow and painful.

Or

Louis is a vampire out for a good time and a decent meal, but when he goes home with a woman and discovers her neglected baby son, a protectiveness he’s never felt before comes to the surface, tempting him to end her life.

Belonging 2k

Part 2

“Harry,” Louis says later as they’re driving home. “You were rude to that woman.”

Harry’s head snaps towards him. “Why do you care? Did you like her?”

Or

Harry’s growing up and Louis gets the shock of his life.

**Sequel to Heartbeat**

Clandestine 5k

Part 3

“What, am I supposed to throw him a surprise party when he turns sixteen? 'Surprise! You’re a werewolf, and I’m a vampire, have some cake’-” The sound of Holland’s high pitched laughter cut him off, “It’s not funny!”

“I’m sorry sweetie, but it really, really is.”

“You’re no help!”

**Follow up to Heartbeat and Belonging**

A Werewolf Thing 5k

Part 4

When? When had this happened? Gone was the wide-eyed, chubby-cheeked baby boy, and in his place stood a lanky teenager with stormy eyes and a brow that spoke of fiery temperament.

or

Louis is having a hard time accepting the fact that Harry is growing up; Harry resents this.

*Series not done

The Devil You Know 35k

Harry walked slowly to the door, an eerie sense of déjà vu rolling over him. “Who is it?” he called out through the varnished maple.

“Can Harry come out to play?” The voice on the other side of the door was light and airy, musical, with a raspy edge.

Louis.

Harry felt his pulse race a little before he found words. “Harry’s not home right now.” He smirked.

There was a pause and then a light tap-tap-tap on the door, right at Harry’s ear. “Bullshit.”

**** Louis is a vampire. Harry is probably too curious for his own good.

morning has broken 2k

Harry tries out his new vampire skills. In bed. With Louis.

This is a timestamp for the fic The Devil You Know. It takes place the morning after Louis turns Harry. Some might even consider it to be…the missing smut scene.

Do Things I Never Thought ˜4k

Louis finds himself in a predicament. It involves a pair of red lace panties, a newly turned boyfriend and a misunderstanding.

OR

Vampire Louis makes it up to Vampire Harry when a newly discovered kink goes awry.

For You I’d Bleed Myself Dry 3k

After a public and humiliating breakup, Louis Tomlinson finds himself on his would-be honeymoon with his best friend, Niall. However, this St. Lucian paradise is not all that it seems. Louis may be particularly vulnerable to an unusually handsome predator.

Feels Like Infinity 21k

Louis Tomlinson is an accomplished professor and a published author, all at age 28. He has devoted his life to the study and discussion of the mythological beings known as vampires. What he hasn’t prepared for is, well, meeting one.

Dance along to the beat of your heart 3k

Part 1

Since his family has been cold-bloodedly slaughtered by vampires, Louis has been hunting them, wanting to take every single one of them down. When he hears people talk about a mysterious Harry with white pale skin, he knows he has found another victim. But is Harry completely what Louis thinks he is? And doesn’t it get time that Louis finally moves one, that he ends his career as a hunter?

Burning in the light (your eyes) 3k 

Part 2

Louis learns how to live with Harry, learns how to love Harry. Harry has known all along how to love Louis

there’s no antidote (for this curse) 50k 

Threesome (Liam/Harry/Louis)

Five or so times Liam (and Harry) saved Louis and one time he saved them (and the world): A Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU

Under The Shimmering Surface 61k

Louis thinks back on his small house full of high-voltage little sisters and his messy bedroom and the neighborhood kids he’d play with when the summer nights ran long and he loved being hugged by the sun. His mind shifts to when he left, ran away and into the dark of night. His bloodlust and sex crazed life lit only by the stars and lonely moons in different phases as he skipped from one town to the next across the country.

In hindsight, falling in love doesn’t sound so bad.

aka the fic where louis is a self-indulgent vampire, harry is smart and stronger than louis knows, and Seattle is just the perfect mix of mystery and alcohol and home for the right kind of love to brew (or maybe that’s just the witch’s potions fogging up the sky)

Love Endless (The Road to Recollection) 151k

[Book ¼]

The year is groovy 1973, and eighteen-year-old Louis Tomlinson is perhaps the gayest teen to ever grace the gloomy, hateful town of Fortwright. Would be fine if he wasn’t so viciously bullied at both home and school for such a "harmful” sexual preference.

Yeah, yeah, we’ve all heard this story, haven’t we?

Believe him, Louis didn’t think he was anything special either.

Until he found the mansion. The notoriously haunted mansion hidden deep within the forests of his tiny blip of a town in Bumfuck Nowhere, Idaho. No one with a brain ever goes near it, but Louis could use a little excitement in his life…and possibly a Band-Aid or two.

After discovering the mansion was less abandoned than he’d thought, he’s now left with the most riveting mystery of a lifetime; every new finding leaving him with more questions. Who is this elusive owner, and why won’t they show themselves? Why is there a set of journals in the same handwriting that span over centuries? Why in the world is there a padlock on the refrigerator…and who the hell is Alexander?

Love Endless (Path to Permanence) 241k

[Book 2/4]

So now Louis’ finally done the love thing, and it’s already in jeopardy? Just his luck.

Harry’s evil twin is back, and that can’t mean anything good. It never has.

Even with the help of friends, will Harry and Louis be able to keep him at bay? And is Auron really who they should be worried out?

…Only one way to find out.

Love Endless (Trail To Transcendence) 151k

[Book ¾] 

It just doesn’t fucking stop, does it?

**WIP

Luscious blood 116k

Louis Tomlinson, a human, has been living in poor living conditions together with his mother since he was born. Ever since he can remember he has loathed the stronger, faster, more developed kind that rule this world; Vampires. But will his opinion change after he meets his soul mate that is an arrogant, royal vampire named Harry Styles…

Route 50 2k

Sometimes he dreams of staying for even longer, of burrowing deep into the cool red earth and making his final resting place under the only stars left in America. He’d never really be able to do it, obviously. He has far too many ties still rooted to the world to abandon it for long.

A modern vampire AU set in LA.

[buckygirl-fanfiction]

Sparks Chapter 9

Pairing: Bucky(POV) X Reader(POV) ft. other characters from the avengers team

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Bucky volunteers to be y/n’s date at a prestigious scientific gala y/n is invited to speak at. Bucky’s feelings for y/n grow and he catches himself gaping at her. After the gala they go back to y/n’s apartment for take out, a movie, and a sleepover. They share a bed once again but this time y/n feels different. After a violent attack with an intruder Bucky saves y/n’s life and realizes he would do anything for her: including kill.

A/N: This is a story about two people building a great friendship and then slowly falling in love. y/n is a strong, independent, and smart scientist. She meets Bucky when she wakes him up from cryo sleep and they become friends. This is going to have all the angst / best friends falling in love / fluff / drama / & eventual smut ;) that I can possibly fit in it. This fic is going to be looong! So far my document is like 80 pages. So editing is hard If you catch any grammatical or formatting errors let me know.

November 13, 2015

y/n’s POV

“Don’t be late,” I say holding the phone to my ear.

“I won’t be late. When have I ever been late?” Bucky replies. “I am the essence of punctuality.”

“This is really important,” I say putting the phone on speaker and picking up my curling iron again.

“I know, you know what I just got out of my briefing right now. I’m going to go back to my place and put on the best tux money can buy and meet you at the museum in 1 hour.” He says. “You’ll have the hottest date there.” I roll my eyes and end the call.

“Hey y/n, do you have some perfume,” Cho asks from behind me. We are in my bedroom back at my apartment getting ready for the scientific gathering of the season. It’s being held at the Museum of Natural History here in New York. It’s basically award season for scientists and I’ve been invited this year to deliver the opening address. Which is very prestigious because only leaders in their fields are invited to speak.

“Yeah, on my nightstand,” I say and Cho walks over and picks up the bottle. We’re invited every year. Well every year since Cho and I started working at the tower and we usually we go together. But, this time I decided to invite Bucky who happily volunteered to be my date. Cho was going to invite Steve, but superhero business kept him tied down. I curl the last piece of my long hair and put the curling iron down. I stand up from my vanity and walk over to the mirror to make sure I look put together. I’m wearing a long sleeveless silver silk dress and I look awesome, if I do say so myself.

“You’re definitely going to turn some lab nerds heads tonight,” Cho says jokingly to me.

Bucky’s POV

I arrive, exactly on time, at the museum. I walk into the large hall with people buzzing around and champagne glasses being clinked. I spot y/n and Cho at one of the front tables and walk towards them. She looks beautiful. Like always. She’s wearing heels again, I like it when she wears heels because then we’re almost the same height. She’s standing around the table with Cho looking around the room probably waiting to yell at me for not being here earlier. Not my fault that Stark is so insistent on his mission updates. I walk towards the table and she spots me. She’s wearing a shiny grey dress and it clings to her body. She’s smart, beautiful, and fun I didn’t know someone could have it all, but she does. Man, i’m really smitten aren’t I? I think to myself. I need to stop. These are clearly some misplaced feelings that i’m secretly harboring. They will fade away eventually. I don’t want to open a can of worms I can’t close and destroy a perfectly great friendship.

“You’re on time,” she says looking at her watch.

“I told you I would be,” I say.

“Well, Bucky don’t you look smart,” Cho says looking at me.

“Thank you and both of you look… well… wow,” I say looking at y/n with a loss for words. Stop it, I say to my brain. She’s your friend. I tear my gaze away from y/n and look at Cho. Man poor Steve I think to myself. He’s really disappointed that he couldn’t be here.

“Nice bow tie,” y/n says smiling at me. We take a seat and soon the hall begins to fill up quickly with people. Mostly old men and their wives. Some young lanky looking kids in suits way too big for them. The night proceeds smoothly and y/n gives her speech and I do my best not to gape. She gets a lot of visitors at our table: donors who congratulate her on her success, company heads who try to recruit her, and fellow scientists gaping at her prowess. After a couple more glasses of champagne and hearing way too many science jokes that I don’t understand we finally decide to leave.

y/n’s POV

I have my fur jacket tightly wrapped around me. It’s cold. Its mid November and it’s way too cold for my liking. We walk outside the front of the museum and down the many stone steps. Cho hails a taxi and gets in, “I’ll see you guys later.” She yells out the window as her taxi pulls out into the traffic.

“Did you have fun?” I ask Bucky who yawns. I don’t think this was really his scene but i’m so glad he came.

“Yeah,” he says with a bright smile plastered on his face. We stand outside the museum waiting for another cab to pass by.

“Dr. y/l/n” I hear someone call my name. A tall woman with short platinum hair walks towards me with her date, a relatively older man I recognize but can’t seem to place at the moment.

“Yes?” I say looking at her.

“I’m Dr. Linda Highworth,” she says putting her hand out. I take it and her handshake is firm.

“I just wanted to introduce myself. You’re currently heading the Bio labs at Stark Tower correct?” She asks.

“Not heading, just overseeing” I correct. Tony asked Cho and I to step in and take Axelrod’s place. But I certainly wasn’t the head of anything. I still had to report to a boardroom of old men. A board, that’s where I knew her date from. He’s on the board. Doctor something Highworth. It must be her dad.

“Well, either way, you’re a rising star,” she says to me and I can’t quite place whether her tone is genuine or not.

“Dr. Highworth,” I say turning to her companion. “You’re on the board correct?”

“I see, you remember my face,” the old man says in response. “My days of scientific practice are over. I leave the field to young new stars like you and my daughter now,” the old man coughs cutting himself off in the middle of his sentence. “Linda here will be collaborating on some defense projects for Stark. I just wanted you two to meet.” Hmm, I think to myself. I’m not one for nepotism.

“Yes, I work for private defense contractor. But father here though I would be valuable to the Stark team,” She says her fake platinum blonde shining in the moonlight. “It was pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” I say nodding my head at her and they make their way to a black car that’s waiting for them at the curb.

“He looks familiar,” Bucky says nodding in the old man’s direction.

“You’ve probably seen him around the tower,” I say shrugging my shoulders.

“Probably,” Bucky repeats. A cab passes by and I stick my hand out to hail it. Bucky opens the door and I slide in and he gets in after me.

“Were to?” the cabbie asks me.

I turn to Bucky and ask, “Take out, my place?” and he nods, so I give the cab driver my address.

…

We’re sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table with boxes of chinese food around us watching tv. I changed out of my lovely dress and i’m sporting a tank top and a pair of hello kitty pink pajama shorts. I gave Bucky his grey shirt back, the one I took ages ago, he swapped his dress shirt for it and is still wearing his black pants. We’re watching some alien horror movie. Where a crew of unsuspecting space travels enter a planet with killer lifeforms.

“Pass me the shrimp,” I say to Bucky and he hands me a container. “Are you staying over tonight?” I ask in between bites.

“Sure,” he replies.

Its nearly 2 am when the movie finishes and Bucky is already knocked out on my tiny sofa. His legs hanging off the ends.

“Hey,” I tap him. “Wake up,” and he mumbles something before going still again. “Fine then sleep on the sofa, don’t blame me when your back hurts in the morning like last time.”

“Mhhhh,” he says getting up and rubbing his eyes. Now two friends sharing a bed shouldn’t be something so scandalous I think to myself. So why does it feel scandalous this time. Bucky’s slept over before. Bucky’s slept over in my bed before, after complaining that my sofa hurt his back. But ever since our almost moment during halloween. I don’t know, doing anything remotely intimate with Bucky seems scandalous. I mean for god sakes we are on completely opposite sides of the bed, it’s not like we cuddle. Why does this feel so different? Honestly, these are questions that I don’t want to explore right now. So, i’m just going to pretend everything is normal until it is again. I close my eyes and turn my body so it’s facing my window and drift off to sleep.

I wake up around 5 am according to my bedside clock and toss the covers to the side and get up. My throat is so dry, I need a glass of water. I walk to the kitchen through semi darkness the only light is moonlight coming in through my windows and flooding the living room. I yawn on my way to the kitchen and take out a glass from the cabinet. I hear a thud coming from the living room. Probably that damn cat knocking something over again. It always finds a way to sneak in here. I make a mental note to return it to my neighbor, Louise, tomorrow morning. Hmm, thinking back I don’t remember seeing it around when Bucky and I got back last night. I scratch my head and walk out of the kitchen into the living room with the glass in my hand. I don’t see her. I squint in the darkness and walk around looking under my sofa. I place the glass on my coffee table and I see a shadow behind me. But, when I turn around it’s not Tina the cat. It’s Maddox. Well I haven’t seen his face in a while, I think to myself before ducking out the way of his large fist. He lunges at me with an impressively sharp switchblade. I kick him as hard as I can but he seems relatively unaffected and continues to walk towards me. I grab the closest thing resembling a weapon I can see, which happens to be a heavy iron bookend and I swing at his head. In the process he lodges his impressively sharp switchblade into my forearm. And that’s when I let out the scream that wakes Bucky up. Now why hadn’t I just thought of that earlier I think to myself while a knife sticks out of my arm.

Bucky’s POV

I hear a loud scream come from the living room and I jump out of bed. I grab the gun I stashed under y/n’s nightstand and run out into the living room to find her struggling with a tall dark figure. He pushes her down and I find my opportunity and take the shot effectively taking him out. With a thud his body falls to the floor.

“Ahhh,” y/n cries out in pain. It’s still dark but I can see a lot of blood and a switchblade sticking out of her left forearm. I run to her side kneeling next to her and pull her into my arms. I grab my phone from the coffee table next to us and send out a SOS. I’m on the floor leaning on the couch with y/n in my arms.

“y/n your arm,” I say as I pull her closer towards me and onto my lap. She reaches for the knife, “No don’t pull that out,” I say, but before I can stop her she fearlessly pulls the knife out of her arm. There’s a lot of blood. I grab her arm trying to hold the blood pouring out back.

“Keep pressure on the wound,” she says panting and out of breath. “He tried to kill me,” she says. “Thank you,” she’s winded and so am I.

“The others are on their way,” I say. “I got you, just relax. Just trust me alright, i’ll take care of you… Shhhh” she leans into my embrace still breathing heavily and I can’t help but repeat, “I’m right here, i’ll take care of you, i’m not going anywhere.” I kiss the top of her head that’s resting against my chest. “I got you,” I say. I sit holding her small body in my arms. We are in the dark, the only light illuminating the blood on my hands is the moonlight streaming in from the windows. She’s in my arms and only a few feet away is the man I just killed. I haven’t killed in a long time, since i’d woken up from cryo in fact, I don’t like doing it. But i’d kill for her… I would kill FOR her… In that moment I realize I would do anything for her. I pull her closer to me, my chin resting on her head, and whisper, “I got you, baby”.

[incensus-nix]

.: one question :.

❝ So, before the war, did you do all those like, dumb holidays. Like, what was one of them -- The eating one, or like, the one with costumes, ❞ Deacon started, tossing a baseball from his hand, up into the air, and catching it lazily, attempting to cure his boredom in the moment as he took over laying in Bethany’s bed staring up at the ceiling.

❝ Yeah, some, ❞ she answered in short, finishing setting up an old record player on table next to her dresser. She found a few records here and there on her travels, but nothing to play them on all until recently. It was nice to have something other than Diamond City radio replaying all the same five songs over and over again. At least that’s what it seemed like in her head. ❝ Thanksgiving and Halloween -- ❞

❝ No, not Thanksgiving... ❞ He tossed the ball in the air, catching it again, but barely, having to stumble to hold it in both hands as he nearly missed it that time. ❝ The fat one or something. ❞

❝ Fat Tuesday. ❞ She dusted the top of a record, blowing it on it lightly to direct the air away from her.

❝ Yeah, that one. What made it fat? ❞

❝ I dunno. Sweets, I think. It was a Catholic thing. ❞

❝ Like, the Jesus people and what not? ❞

Bethany grinned a little bit. ❝ Yes, the Jesus people. ❞

❝ I read somewhere in an old magazine that the Jesus people were super big back in your day. Where you a Jesus person? ❞

Bethany couldn’t help but let out a laugh. ❝ They were called Christians. ❞ Deacon stopped throwing his baseball, then pointed to her upside down, using his hand to confirm the word he couldn’t recall. ❝ It wasn’t for me, really. My parents were though. They stopped talking to me once I started working and supporting myself. ❞

❝ Weren’t you some kind of hot model or something. ❞

❝ Or something. ❞

Back to throwing the ball in the air, his hands slipped again, the ball slipping from his grip and rolled away on the floor. He was too lazy to try and grab for it, now just laying on his back with his arms open on Bethany’s bed, messing around with the stuffed animals on top of it. ❝ Why do you sleep with these things? They’re terrifying. ❞ He was referring to a Nuka-World sloth toy, missing an eye that Bethany had to sew an ‘x’ over just so there was something beside a cyclops. But there was Jangles, the Moon Monkey and a teddy bear with a busted seam that also cuddled with her at night. ❝ I thought only kids had this stuff. ❞ 

Bethany pushed her lips tight, squinting at him before looking away and setting the record in the player and testing to see if it’d turn on. It wasn’t, making the silver haired woman sigh, her hands falling into her lap in frustration. ❝ Because I like them, I dunno. Why are you asking me so many questions? ❞

❝ I dunno, you’re interesting and I only know things on the surface, I guess. ❞ He tossed the stuffed critter off the the side, now sitting up and getting the blood flow back to his brain, sitting cross legged and holding his hands to his knees. ❝ Am I not allowed or something? ❞

❝ Yeah, a little, like -- I don’t go asking you a million questions about stupid shit. ❞ She was a little bit annoyed, standing now and moving to the bed, pushing him to scoot over so she could have room to sit.

Scooting a bit, he shrugged. ❝ What do you wanna know about me? ❞

❝ What’s the point in asking, you’ll lie about it anyway. Synth leader of the Commonwealth with some dead ex-wife that you made up. ❞

Deacon bit the inside of his cheeks, turning from Bethany and gripping his knees tighter. ❝ If you’re trying to be funny -- ❞

❝ I’m not. I’m calling it out for what it is. I could tell you a whole bunch of stuff but you’ll never believe me. ❞

❝ I might. What if I told you one honest thing and you had to as well. ❞

Bethany shook her head. ❝ I hate this game. Why can’t we just know each other like we do.  ❞

Deacon shrugged, ❝ We totally could. In fact, I’d love that. ❞

Bethany huffed, leaning her chin into her wrist. ❝ Too bad we’re like a bunch of cats. Leave me alone, oh what’s that, feed me. ❞

There was a snort of a laugh next to him. ❝ Feed me, Bethany. Feed me. ❞

She punched his arm lightly, then pushed her hair from her face. ❝ Okay, fine, I’ll play your game. One question each, that’s it. Make it count. ❞

❝ Damn, only one? Okay, gotta make this the best question ever asked. Why did the chicken cross the road won’t be good enough for this... ❞ He rubbed his chin, thinking hard on what he wanted to ask.

❝ I’ll be a corpse before you think of anything good. ❞ Bethany was betting on it.

❝ Hey, I’ve got like, a million, it’s hard to pick the best. ❞

❝ A million, hm? Find me that interesting. ❞

❝ Don’t flatter yourself, I love Old World knowledge and I’ve got an encyclopedia right in front of me, ❞ he replied back, smoothing out his sleeve until the right question came up. ❝ Did you ever have that one special client that you’d do anything for? ❞

❝ What kind of sick question is that? ❞ Bethany was appalled by his pick, folding her arms and backing from him.

❝ You said I could pick any one question I want. That’s the one I pick. ❞

❝ Are you implying if I whored out to people? ❞

Deacon rolled his eyes behind the glasses. ❝ You’re taking this completely the wrong way. I’m just curious, did you ever have a lover or something before the war? ❞

Bethany’s pale cheeks turned a pinkish color, turning from Deacon quickly. ❝ I hate this question I want a new one. ❞

❝ Nuh-uh, that’s my question. I got to pick one, and seeing by the looks of it, there was. ❞ He wiggled his brows, then leaned in to listen intently. 

She pushed his shoulder. ❝ That’s a creepy question, Deacon. ❞

❝ I swear it’s not. Why do you even care what I think, that’s stupid. I just want to know what like, Old World lovers did and what not. I bet it was a thousand times more romantic that fucking behind a dumpster with a shock baton in your hand. ❞

❝ You’re seriously demented. ❞

❝ I’m curious. ❞

She swallowed, then worked her jaw, pulling a piece of hair behind her ear. ❝ To be honest, I was disconnected from all my clients. Getting emotionally involved would ruin my reputation of favoritism. I wasn’t an escort, either, so get that out of your head. Some people just hired a pretty face to make themselves look good to high society. Hiring models wasn’t that weird. Only middle ages housewives seemed to give a crap when they saw their ex-husbands buying a younger woman for a business party. ❞

❝ That’s hard to believe. Men are creeps. ❞ Deacon, with the self aware philosophy, pulled down his shades in disbelief.

❝ Some thought they were paying for something else. The contract would end immediately and I would smear their names to their peers and company. I refused to be damaged goods. People want the fantasy. Some thought they were lucky enough to make that a reality, but I wasn’t selling reality. ❞ She laced her own fingertips together, rolling her tongue in cheek. ❝ There was never anyone good enough, anyway. They didn’t want to get to know you or listen to what you had to say. They weren’t paying me to talk, either. Just to have the right dress, perfect hair and flawless features. I was there to make them look good, not the other way around. And I was really good at it. ❞

❝ I guess if you lived back then, petty things like that would seem important. ❞ Deacon just read. A lot. He didn’t agree with all that he read but every once in a while when Bethany would speak on the prewar times, he just nodded along, where most would question further or seem shocked by the behaviors. 

❝ It was super petty back then too, trust me, ❞ she forced herself to laugh a bit. She made ridiculous amounts of money off greasy old men, but it worked well enough for her to live a singles life and pay for all the things she ever wanted. ❝ My turn. ❞

❝ I guess I owe you that much. ❞ Deacon wasn’t looking forward to it, but with Bethany, he could afford to let his guard down ever so slightly.

❝ You know what to do. ❞

❝ Why is this a thing with you. ❞

❝ Because if I can’t see a man’s eyes, I know he’s lying. ❞

Deacon always protested when she made him take off the sunglasses. She never really understood why they were always on him, even at night. Even if it was his thing, there was a time and place for them. And now wasn’t.

Biting the end of an arm, Deacon looked at Bethany with slight nerves, his dull blues staring into her own. ❝ So, what’ll it be. ❞

Cocking her head to the side, Bethany’s hair fell onto her back and she leaned into her hands. ❝ Was Barbara a real person or what the whole thing about you being in the UP Deathclaws all a lie, too. ❞

He immediately looks away and grinds his jaw. ❝ Yeah, no, I’m not -- ❞

❝ You agreed to one question. ❞

❝ Not that one, Bethany. I’m out. ❞

Deacon threw his shades on, and slid out of her house quickly, finding his way elsewhere in Sanctuary where he didn’t have to deal with the question at all. It was all Bethany needed though. She knew he wouldn’t answer it without him lashing out, but if he didn’t and chose to answer the question as she did, she might’ve thought he was lying after all. Her method was a bit sick and twisted, but effective. 

He wasn’t lying this time.

She gave them space for a few hours, Bethany visiting Donald while he sewed a quick sundress for her, in a pale blue color that she rather adored with her hair and fair skin. She wondered to what occasion she might want to wear it, seeing there were no longer any parties or occasions now to add a little bit of summer glam to. Still, she’d find a reason.

Nightfall started, the colors of the skies painting into vibrant pastels and illuminating the neighborhood. Bethany walked about, picking up random conversations with the settlers there, making sure everything she had build for was remaining intact and to her liking.

Down at the river, the campfire the Minutemen normally crowded around had the lone company of a single man, smoking and tapping the ashes into the embers.

❝ Deacon, ❞ she said softly, standing behind him with some distance between them. Bethany held onto her arm with the other, an awkward stance for someone that claimed themselves a leader.

❝ What’s up? ❞ His tone seemed to be less harsh, almost forgetful from what they said earlier. Was it all that easily forgiven?

❝ Just wanted to see if you’re okay. ❞

❝ Yeah, I’m good. ❞

❝ Are you sure? ❞

❝ Not really. ❞

Moving closer now, she squatted next to him, holding her knees to her chest and staring into the dying flames. ❝ Are we still friends? ❞

Deacon threw his cigarette into the fire, then leaned back onto his hands, his ankles crossing over each other as he looked over to the silver haired woman. ❝ Why would you ask that? We’re good as gold. ❞

❝ You’re acting fake. ❞

He stopped smiling, giver her an irked look. ❝ Cross my heart, pal. ❞

She hugged her knees closer. ❝ I hate that you can’t tell me anything. ❞

❝ I make it pretty clear that’s my modus operandi. ❞ To suggest anything else meant you didn’t know the man at all.

❝ I just want you to care about me as much as I care about you, ❞ she argued, burying her lips down into her knees, her voice muffled.

Deacon looked away, cracking his neck both away before giving her an answer back. ❝ You know that’s some bullshit right there. ❞

❝ You don’t want to tell me about your past even though I told you mine. ❞

❝ I don’t know everything. And I don’t want to tell you everything. If I did, I don’t think I’d have the right to call you my friend anymore. ❞ His words did impact her a little bit, but it still seemed unfair to Bethany.

❝ I haven’t told you everything, ❞ Bethany wanted to, but she knew he’d be gone just as fast as he said that she would.

Laying down on the grass, Deacon pushed his sunglasses up into his pompadour, looking up into the cloudy night sky. ❝ I know you haven’t. I only ask the questions I want to know the answers to. I don’t want to know what all happened to you in the vault. In Nuka-World. I just know you you had these experiences. And I’m all ears when you want to talk about it. And, yeah, I guess I wanna ask, but I don’t want to know those answers. Not yet, anyway. But, when you ask questions about me, about Barbara, I know you don’t want those answers. Because you have this idea of the type of person I am and I don’t want to change that. They might not be all truth, but it’s not all as fake, either. You’re at least seeing the best parts that I want you to see. ❞

Bethany joined him, laying on the dirt and grass, but she laid the side of her cheek on her arm, staring at the man next to her. ❝ You assume I don’t want to know. But what if I told you that it wouldn’t change even if you did tell the truth. ❞

❝ You couldn’t handle it. ❞

❝ Try me. ❞

❝ I already have. And it hurts you more, so it’s better off that we stop trying to dig that information out of each other. My bad for starting all this. ❞

Bethany could feel her chest aching, blinking a few before turning onto her back and looking upwards into the now starry lit sky. ❝ It’s because you’re still in love with her, aren’t you? ❞

There was nothing but the sound of cracking wood between them. Deacon, still with his glasses pushed up over his head, just letting out a heavy breath from his lungs before saying anything. ❝ It’s never going to change, Bethany. ❞

❝ I know. ❞

❝ Then why do you obsess yourself with it? ❞

❝ Because until I met you, I didn’t feel anything. At least if I’m hurting, I’m feeling something and that’s better then when I started. ❞ Her voice broke, rubbing the corner of her eye as if she merely caught a bit of ash from the fire in it.

❝ You can’t live like that. ❞

❝ No, it’s okay. It, um... It means something, at least, that you stuck around this long. I’d rather that then nothing else. I just hope... after this is all said and done.. You know, with the Railroad’s mission with the Institute and all... You’ll come visit? Won’t you? ❞ Because when they were through with them, what reason would they have to send more synths her way? What reason did he even have to stay if everything was in order and they outlived their use of Bethany and Sanctuary.

Deacon, perched up onto his side, his jaw in hand, then smirked at her. ❝ You really think I’d just leave this all behind? Nah -- We have too much fun right now. I don’t want that to all of a sudden end, yeah? ❞ He wanted to assure her that nothing just ended because where the Railroad would end up having them. He thought they built their friendship on far more than that.

❝ Promise? ❞ Her voice was shaky, ashamed that she was being so emotional in the moment, especially without a drink in hand.

❝ I’m team Bethany, all the way, ❞ he assured her.

That made her smile a bit, tears still welling up a bit as she wiped them away with her shirt sleeve. ❝ She was lucky, you know. ❞

❝ Yeah, I guess. I consider myself the lucky one, though. ❞ But he wasn’t referring to Barbara. He just didn’t have the courage to tell her the truth. 

Not entirely, anyway.