#OF COURSE he had a slightly torn well loved black and white photo of his wife

[the-storyteller78]

Y'a reckon you could sketch Penelope or Odysseus in a cowboy version of the Iliad/Odyssey?

@cowboy-iliad-au

I reckon I could 😜 This was honestly so fun, and it gave me a chance to practice drawing a man, so thanks for the request! I might add to it later and include Penelope, but here’s cowboy Odysseus for now~

(And if the wrinkles and folds of his clothing don’t make sense to you, don’t worry. They don’t make sense to me either. Which is the problem. 😀)

[liquid-luck-00]

My Life is One Complication After Another 3

Cursing Ahead 🤬

Ao3 *** First *** Previous *** Next

~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since Mari's classmates stopped talking with her, they also stopped asking her for favors. Along with a blocked and rotating schedule for patrols meant that she actually had a sleep schedule. Sure she didn't get nearly enough but that was what coffee is for.

That was how she found herself down in the bakery with her papa. Roy had called her and the four of them talked and it was comfortable. Mari was the one who opened and was watching the front. She was still talking with Roy, but now it was on a headset, as he was out patrolling In Starling City.

"So as I was saying before we were oh so rudely interrupted." came Roy's voice in her ear. "So Ice cream and movies?"

A soft laughter escaped her and a smile on her lips.

"Sounds gre..." the bell at the door chimed. "Hey guys come in," she greeted the Waynes.

"Let me guess the bats?" Roy supplied as Dick bounced towards the counter.

"Good morning Marinette!" Dick practically sang loud enough for even Roy to hear.

"God how the hell is he so chipper so early." she heard Roy grumble.

"God damn morning people," she grumbled. That elicited laughter from both Roy and Jason.

"Amen to that!" Tim seconded in a monotone lifting a coffee cup. "Maman I'm going to take the Waynes up." she called poking her head into the kitchen. Her Maman nodded so she picked up her phone and walked towards them.

"I'll Let you go," Roy was about to hang up.

"Wait how about we give the Bats a heart attack." she smirked changing to the ancient language of miracles.

"I like the way you think, I'll catch you later." he responded in the same tongue.

"See ya then." she smiled, switching back the language. Ending the call and removing the ear piece. “Are you guys coming or do I have to drag you guys?" she turned back already at the door. Granted most of them showed confused faces and side eyes, but she smiled. They followed her without saying a word.

Once they were in the apartment she excused herself to change into more appropriate gear. She activated Kaalki’s miraculous, who then silently portaled out.

That being said she changed into a pair of black skinny cargo pants with red combat boots. A black long sleeve shirt under a cropped red sleeveless hoodie. Her hair was half down with red and pink streaks and a mini white gold backpack with three patches in the same white gold finished her outfit. She grabbed four parcels and went down.

"So we can either do the boring ground tour or," she held up the bundles. "we can turn up the speed."

"I like the way you think Pixie Pop." Jason stood and she handed him his.

"Roy sent me you guy's sizes, so I altered and customized a few things." she smiled. "bathroom is over there and the guest room is next to it." Dick looked torn between excited and horrified when handed his stack.

Tim seemed awake, but she knew better, "go change and I'll have a fresh pot of coffee ready." He nodded robotically as he got up.

She set the last bunch next to Damian, who was looking like an angry kitten. She sat down next to him and leaned in.

"What are you.." he started but Mari whispered in his ear.

"The jacket has a hidden sling for a katana, which will be practically invisible when on." His eyes widened slightly and there was a bit of slack in his jaw now. Before turning into an amused smirk. "Use my room up the stairs and through the hatch." she finished as he headed up the stairs.

"I'm impressed he let you close without struggling," Bruce broke his silence, as she finished prepping the coffee maker.

"Well he would have if," she began as Damian practically crashed down the stairs and all but tackled Bruce before rushing out the door. The closest she had ever seen her baby brother smile, which effectively made her smile.

"Holy crap! What are you?!" Dick made himself known.

"More importantly what the fuck did you do with Demon spawn!" Jason shouted from next to Tim, who was being propped up by both Jason and Dick.

"Tt. I am right here Todd." The scowl reappearing on his features. "It is adequate Dupain-Cheng."

"I'll take it as a compliment on one condition."

"And that is?" he rose a brow.

"You call me Marinette not Dupain-Cheng. I'm your sister aren't I?"

He seemed to war with himself for a moment before stating. "That is acceptable, Marinette."

At this point all the bats in the room were playing a game of ping-pong between Marinette and Damian. They were trying to figure out what magic spell Marinette must have used, when in reality she just seemed to fall into Damian’s good graces automatically. OK so maybe Marinette being the holder of the ladybug miraculous as well as being the great guardian of the order has that affect on most people, a sense of respect and trust that seems to permeate her aura.

She was handing Tim a huge mug as the front door swung open to reveal her Maman.

"Hello Bruce," Sabine greeted.

"It is good to see you Sabine," was his response.

“Maman," Mari pulled her mother's attention from her biological father. "These are Bruce's boys and my brothers. Tim, Jason, Dick, and Damian." she motioned to each one respectively.

"It's nice to meet all of you." Sabine smiled, "why don't all of you get something from the bakery before you go."

After finishing their small breakfast in the park Mari pulled out a map and a marker.

"So what do you guys want to see?" They listed off places that she marked down. She added a few to the list to fill it out, marked the route and took a picture and sent it to Roy. "Okay so this will work." she glanced at her phone. A quick look on social media showed no one has found Andre yet. She pulled out a case of comms and added, "Also keep your eyes out for Andre."

"Who is that?" Dick asked taking the earpiece.

"Andre's Ice cream cart, the best ice cream in Paris." Marinette answered.

"Then why must we look for him?" Damian added.

"Well he changes locations daily and turns it into a game of tag of sorts."

"Alright, lead the way Pixie." with a smirk she dashed off her brothers close on her heels.

Yes this is the best way to get to see the city, but this was also a test to see how the bats did without their toys.

Getting to Notre Dame was uneventful. Dick kept up a steady conversation with her, just a step behind with Damian, Jason brought up the rear but would constantly toss in quips and questions. Damian and Tim were mostly quiet, unless they were trying to get one of their brothers to stop a particularly embarrassing story.

Getting to the Louve was even more entertaining. Now that Dick had a feel for the Parisian roofs he would do flips and vaults to make her laugh. In the Louve is another story.

They had accidentally ran into some of her classmates, quite literally. She and her brothers were taking goofy 'walk like an Egyptian' group photos on the second floor of the Egyptian exhibit, the mini Ladybug camera was reattaching to her phone charm when Tim began asking her questions about it.

"Well my best friend loves anime, and we kinda sorta binged the entire Dragon Ball series and when we saw the ladybug camera. He said it would be impossible to create and maintain the quality of the image. So I kinda sorta made it out of spite." she mumbled the end.

"Hell if you weren't my sister I would beg Bruce to adopt you," Tim stated. "Do you have the files I would love to look through them. Maybe send them to Babs or Cy!"

"Sure I think I have it on a flash drive." That was when a tall body, walking backwards slammed into her, pushing her into Jason. "oof."

"You okay." Dick was in full mama hen mode fretting over her.

"I wasn't watching where I was going." the figure spoke as he turned around. "I'm sor." the words died on his tongue, Kim.

Max, Alix, Nino, Alya, and oh kwami no Lila, who were now all snickering.

"I'm fine Dick," she smiled to reassure him. However her classmates were shocked.

Lila of course was the one who broke the silence, by beginning to cry. "I'm so sorry about her. I know she hates me but to be so rude to a complete stranger!" her sobs breaking the sentence while her lackeys went to console her, glaring daggers at Marinette.

"Seriously girl," Alya began to scold her. "Your little out burst not only made Lila cry. Your insulting someone who is just trying to be nice."

She and her brothers were now standing awkwardly being scolded by a teenager. After three minutes of trying to figure out what they were being scolded for and why the guys hadn't apparently left.

"What the fuck did she do that your yelling at her for?" Jason finally broke Alya's rant. Now it was the five Parisians and the Italian to stand there confused.

"She called him a dick," Alya sighed exasperated.

"Yes." Dick answered confusing them further.

"Dick."Tim now called.

"What?!"

"Dick!!" Damian, Marinette, Tim, and Jason all called, and immediately began laughing.

"What? Oh, oh," a sheepish smile now on his face. “Names Richard but I go by Dick,” he explained to those who weren’t laughing, smiling at them.

"Tt. this is why I call you Grayson." Damian rolled his eyes. "Besides this one still has not apologized." he jabbed a finger to Kim.

"It's not worth it Damian,” Marinette shook her head. "We should head back to the bakery anyways. Maman has probably finished scolding Bruce." she smirked.

"Damn I wish I was a fly on the wall for that conversation" Jason lamented.

"Well..." she held up the ladybug charm and flipped it over showing an empty space.

"Two!" Tim shouted.

"Anyone who beats me back gets a copy," she smiled.

"Your on." Jason nodded as he vaulted over the safety wall from the second floor. Damian and Dick sprinted in opposite directions.

"Sorry Mars your gonna loose." Tim shouted as the last to leave.

"We'll see," she shot back. "Bye," She turned to her classmates as she grabbed the railing above and flipped up and over to the third floor, running to one of the secret zip lines the miraculous team set up.

"What the fuck" was faintly heard behind her, all but Lila and Max shouted by the sounds of it, as she jumped from the window.

She made up quite a bit of distance and seemed to be on Damian's heel. She had passed Tim and Dick was a few steps behind. Jason was just out of arm reach. So with a burst of speed both she and Damian were shoulder to shoulder with Jason.

The three of them simultaneously practically crashed into the side door of the bakery.

"I won."

"In your dreams Todd."

"I beat both you and Pixie"

"Check your eyes, or do you need the camera installed in your helmet." Jason's gaze hardened at Damian's words.

"How about we call it a three way tie and you both get a copy." Mari interrupted. "We should head up." Laughing Marinette opened the door and went up.

Lunch was rambunctious, but she was coming to expect that with her brothers.

“Too bad we couldn’t find that ice cream guy Mari,” Tim spoke up once everyone had finished eating.

“Oh let’s see if anyone has posted where he’s at today!” She went to check her phone but a message ended up distracting her.

Andres in your favorite spot I’ll meet you there at 7 your time.

"Cool he’ s in my favorite spot in all of Paris which just happens to be the last spot on our list today," she announced, sending off a text, setting her phone down, screen up.

Can't wait Katniss

"Why don’t you all go and Mari can get to know Bruce," Sabine offered.

OK granted it’s a good idea, maybe I should get to know my biological father but am I ready to? Do I want to? Am I yes, yes I want to get to know my biological father, yes I want my family to grow, my brothers are such protective goofballs and I love them already.

"Sounds good," she smiled.

That was when her phone lit up from a message. She went to pick it up, but she was to slow.

Jason was the one who snacked her phone. "Message from Katniss says see ya then Peeta. So who's Katniss Pixie."

"Well..." she started but she began to blush furiously.

"That would be her boyfriend," her Maman decided to add before heading back down to the bakery with Papa.

Dick pounced asking a million and one questions, Bruce physically froze but she could tell his mind was racing because that look was much the same as hers. Jason was pensive, while Tim and Damian just seemed bored or tired.

So that was how she found herself talking about Roy, blushing furiously. While simultaneously avoiding his name and details that would tip any of them off. After about a half hour of her answering questions did Dick start telling her about his fiancée. How they were planning on setting a date for the wedding.

After that the next few hows was spent sharing stories and tidbits of themselves.

However, thanks to Dick a design was swimming in her mind. so she did the only logical thing and ran up to her room. Grabbed three drives, her tablet and pen and ran back down. She tossed the red drive to Tim, and Jason and Damian each a black drive. Plopped down and began stretching out an Italian suit with a nock lapel. A rough coloration of a midnight blue offset by a sapphire. Accents of golden thread, emerald buttons and an Osiria rose in the lapel. She signed the design 'Mira Luck' and handed Dick the tablet.

"So I couldn't help myself," she begun to fidget. "But in my defense you told a designer about a wedding and my brain wouldn't stop screaming at me until this was on something. So what do you think? I know its rough but."

"Holy Shit your Mira Luck as in M, Jagged Stones personal designer. You are M as in the designer for the Lucky Spot!!" Tim screamed lunging to take the tablet from Dick.

"That's me," a blindingly bright smile lit up her features.

"So what do you think?" she asked again.

"It's amazing we were actually hoping to talk to you about Kori’s dress." Dick smiled. "I could call her it's not too late there."

"Perhaps it would be best to discuss it in person when Marinette next goes, that way she can get to know Gotham." Bruce interjected.

"That actually might be sooner than you think," she responded.

"I was actually accepted to be an exchange student for the next semester at Gotham Academy."

"Wait you’re willing we going to Gotham to study! You ’re going to Gotham willingly. Bruce I think your daughter might be a little crazy." Jason surprisingly brought up.

"I might be but but it’s no crazier than Paris and it’s a Akumas. Besides I would love to design your fiancée’s dress and we should head over to Andre’s ice cream before the sunsets that way we can watch the lighting of the Eiffel tower." She got up and called out. "Hey Jason mind passing me my backpack."

"Yeah sure," he went around he couch to grab it and toss it to her but before he did he finally seemed to notice the patches. "Wait are these The Outlaws."

"Yeah Red Hood, Arsenal, Star Fire, and Bizarro." she was smiling.

"Why choose The Outlaws?" Tim brought up.

"Honestly it was because Roy mentioned something about Arsenal and Red Hood and I ended up liking of the logos, so I made them into the backpack," she shrugged. "Besides unless you’re looking at it close enough you can’t tell which is always fun to see if people pay attention to it, let’s go."

At that the six of them walked out of the apartment, away from the bakery towards the Palais de Chaillot.

"So what's so special about Andre's Ice cream?" B asked.

"Personally I think he is a meta. But what he does is he can either see your true reflection or that of the person best suited to you."

"So he sees souls?" Tim added.

"Not quite, more like he sees the main qualities of you or your go." she tapped her chin.

"But he is meta,” Tim tried to figure.

"That's the only explanation I can come up with but I have no idea." Marinette shrugged.

"So how does he do it." Tim was now fully invested in this.

"Well you either ask for love or self and he usually does three to four ice cream flavors and gives a short reason."

They were now at the top of the stairs at the Palais de Chaillot looking out at the Eiffel Tower. They stood there as the last of the light faded from the sky. The city was dark for a moment as the Eiffel Tower lit up and slowly the lamps lit up.

"So that's why this is your favorite spot Minnie." A voice behind her chuckled. She turned around and nearly tackled him.

"Hey speedy." she pecked his cheek.

Not a second later did Jason scream, "Roy!"

"Ready for that movie?” Roy asked her an arm around her shoulders.

"Of course," she smiled. "See you guys around."

"What the fuck are you doing in Paris Roy!?" Jason screamed.

"Um... Date night," he answered. The Waynes were now practically surrounding the couple.

"What?" Apparently it was Dick's turn to yell.

"Seriously. I thought you said the bats and birds were detectives." she spoke just loud enough for them to hear. "It's kinda hard to believe with the big bat having a heart attack over there." Sure enough Bruce was seriously hyperventilating.

"Oh mind giving this to LB?" He handed her a small nondescript red box.

"Sure," Marinette took the box, "Au Revoir."

From there they left and oh kwamii did she wish she could replay that again, oh wait I can.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

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[wizkiddx]

Need your person

ahhh i have really no idea what i am doing. Anywayyyss this is a really angsty Harry fic, I have a part two but not sure how I feel abt it - so we will see if it ever sees the light of day x x x 

“Tom? I’m back!” Nadia declared as she heavily shut the black gloss front door of her boyfriend's place. She was wrestling with a ridiculous amount of shopping bags, that bounced against her calves before deciding to just dump them at the door- they could be dealt with later. Naturally, she’d blame the excessive haul on her friend that she’d met for lunch; Georgia almost forced her to buy all the clothes...right?

Once she had done so, she glanced around the almost still house, making her left eyebrow quirk up a bit. Since Tom and Harry returned for Toms latest filming venture their house hadn’t been quiet for a moment thereafter. With Tom, Harry, Harrison and herself and Y/n (Harry’s girlfriend) living there- fair to say there normally was at least someone messing around and causing chaos. Before she could read any more into it, Tom appeared round the corner, a small smile as he caught sight of his lovely and almost certainly shopping addicted girlfriend. 

“Hey”

“Hey” He replied back, smile tight-lipped and a very awkward atmosphere falling over the normally most easy-going couple. Nadia didn’t like it, choosing to address it straight up. 

“You gonna tell me why the weird vibe then?” Bags long since forgotten and abandoned, the couple naturally entered the sitting room- Tom landing heavily on the plush cream sofa. 

“I-er... look I know she’s one of your best friends but... well Harry’s got a pretty conclusive photo and account taken by some fan. She’s been cheating on him.” Nadia was unaware of her jaw falling slack while she stood above her boyfriend, arms folded and shaking her head slightly. 

“No Y/n wouldn’t. Come off it Tom you know too, there’s no chance.”

“I’m serious Nads. Harry’s confronting her now, shits really fucked him up.” Tom had this hard tone behind his intense gaze, something that Nadia had only seen a handful of times in their 1 yes relationship. It scared her. 

“ Nonono rewind though. Y/n wouldn’t cheat on him... she’s so in love with the boy!” Tom knew this would be tricky, especially with how close the two girls had gotten over that first lockdown and then ever since. Sometimes he questioned who the relationship was between, Nadia and Y/n seemingly just made for each other in a platonic kind of way. He sighed heavily, digging his phone out his back pocket to show her the picture, all the while watched by her intense hazel gaze. Not saying another word, Tom just held his phone out for her to take, photo on the display. 

“Swipe next to see what she says” after a short time Tom added, Nadia squinting at the phone and clearly zooming in on the blurry image. 

It did look pretty damning, Y/n and an unnamed man with his arm around her- pulling her almost flush against his chest, even at the public cafe they were seated outside. Though the image was grainy as hell, Y/n looked upset, as if he was comforting her. He, just for information, was a fairly attractive man- Tom would fairly admit. Clean-shaven, crisp white shirt on, jet black hair perfectly styled and a strongly carved face. 

That was the issue though, why Nadia’s lips parted with a silent and almost non-existent breath outwards- most getting stuck in her throat. She knew the face, briefly, from an encounter when the boys were away filming. She’d been so busy concentrating on Y/n at that moment about a month ago, it was a surprise she recognised the face at all. 

Suddenly feeling her heart drop, Nadia followed her boyfriends instructions and swiped left, revealing a screenshot of an Instagram direct message - along paragraph giving an exact recount of the day (or at least this ransomers recount). To paraphrase:

“ she just kept going ‘Harry can’t find out. I can’t tell Harry.’ She sounded upset but I just thought you should know”

The fan was obviously well-meaning but just so so wrong. Nadia gulped a little before looking up at her boyfriend, who was unconsciously tensing his jaw. He did that when he was uncomfortable or nervous and hell was he. 

“Where are they?”She muttered voice quiet which Nadia hadn’t realised till long since she’d spoken. It was just tense. 

“In the garden but we need to leave them be it’s not-“

“-FUCK” Predictably, Nads didn’t let Tom finish, already turning on her heel and rushing into the kitchen. Tom yelling something and following, but that’s not what she was concentrating on. 

Her best mate needed her. 

Even at the far end of the kitchen,  Nadia froze at the sight through the garden windows. Y/n was sat with her head in her hands, clearly crying and rocking slightly on the black wicker garden furniture set while Harry stood above. 

Harry. 

Harry was seething with rage. Nads could see him yelling at her, arms being flown round to articulate his anger furthermore. Because Harry didn’t open up easily. Because Harry was so in love with someone that apparently betrayed him so completely. When he saw that DM he just couldn’t ignore it. He’d always been self-conscious, Y/n knew that most of all. It felt like a knife was plunged and then twisted deeper into his chest. And who committed the heinous act? The person he had trusted most int he world. 

“Tom, I will explain but for now you just have to trust me.” Tearing her eye line away from Y/n’s crumpled body, which flinched with every harsh word Harry yelled- as if he were trying to get a reaction from her. Tom just looked at Nads in disbelief, arms crossed protectively and waiting for more. 

“Look…I-I know for a fact she didn’t cheat. There something you both don’t know but it’s not this at all.”

“Nadia I know your close but.-“

“I’m being very fucking serious Tom. If you trust me you have to go and get Harry away. Bloody look at him- she’s not arguing back! He’s hurting them both.”

“ He has a right to be angry.” Tom tried to counter, feeling uncomfortable with how easily Nadia brushed off such a serious and real accusation. 

“Tom for both their sakes, please...I’m begging you to help me” It was the desperation in her brown eyes. Making Tom shift from foot to foot. He was so torn but Nadia must have a reason. This isn’t just her bullshitting to protect a friend, he could see that much. As she grabbed his hands desperately, Tom already knew he was going to follow her.  And she could most definitely see it too as she minutely smiled in thanks before walking with purpose toward the back door. 

—————

You needed an out. Now. 

When Harry had first cornered you in the house with a steely gaze and asked you to have a conversation in the garden, you’d been running on adrenaline. Naturally, you thought he had somehow found out- but this? He had got it oh so wrong. But what hurt most was the fact you couldn’t say anything. You knew his heart was breaking, the fact he was screaming at you and calling you names you thought he never could even associate with you, it was only because he was so hurt. Yet at that moment, you couldn’t fathom how to explain the truth. That was the issue… the truth would hurt him too. So maybe it was easier this way, him hating you and suddenly not being apart of each other's life. Because that would still hurt him less than reality.

With that thought, your body decided to just make this even harder. What did it do you ask? Choose that exact moment to fail you again. Your thoughts all suddenly got jumbled, it felt like your brain was on some sort of rollercoaster. Brief moments of clarity when you weren’t swimming in a pool of disorientation. But to be honest, those moments when you could see the pain on his face, they hurt more than just sinking into oblivion as your body sorted folded over on itself. 

You were stuck fighting two battles neither of which you were sure you could win.

—————

It was just then, as Harry launched into another ‘how dare you betray him’ spiel that Nadia and Tom opened the door. Nadia making an immediate beeline to Y/n, holding her shoulders and trying to support her into an upwards position - leaving Tom to deal with a ball of hurt and rage that was Harry. 

“Mate you need to stop it’s not making any-“

“Fuck off Tom this is between me and her.” Harry snapped back, slapping his brother's arms off his. 

“I know but it’s not going anywhere.”

“Tom”

“Harry I’m serious give it a minute. You need to cool down” Tom urged, still slightly concerned by the rage in his brother's eyes, while Tom gently reached out to hold his shoulders. The younger man needed a bit of grounding and the contact meant Tom could half steer him toward the house.  With a quick glance of worry back to Y/n and Nadia, Tom followed Harry inside- arguing him up the stairs into his room. 

Meanwhile, Nadia was getting more and more concerned. Y/n could barely hold her body up and she was shaking. 

“Y/n what do you need um the-the finger prick thing?… What’s happening?”

“Yeh and uh…Need the... in the fridge get the oat milk and my-my bag.” It was a bit of a weird request but Nadia wasn’t going to question it and ran inside, grabbing the oat milk that seemed to rattle and then Y/n’s bag which was just in the countertop, knowing that was where she kept her finger prick test. Although this wasn’t about her either - Nadia was slightly terrified, shakily shouting for Haz who had to be somewhere in the house. 

“Okay okay, do you need my help?” Nadia spoke with trembling hands, unzipping the little pouch to reveal the red device and all its apparatus. During the month the boys had been away Nadia had seen Y/n do this a thousand times, but it still scared her at the thought. Luckily Y/n shook her head and took the device, pricking her finger then squeezing the blood onto the sensor film. While it beeped away measuring her glucose levels she smiled weakly at her friend. 

“I’m just low I think, can you get the sachets out the milk?” Because of course, Y/n was such an idiot she had hid her essential medication within a carton of oat milk, which was genius and stupid in equal measure. Genius because everybody else in the house was absolutely disgusted by oat milk being a thing so no one would ever try to make a cuppa with it; stupid because in moments like this, who was to know that the bloody oat milk carton could save her life?

“Do I need to phone an ambulance… you-you don't look good Y/n/n.”

“No” Y/n swallowed thickly, grimacing slightly at the reading that just appeared on the device - by far the lowest it had ever read since she had started having to do these stupid measurements. “If I pass out then yes but… I just need the glucose strips” Nadia nodded, still trying to prise the plastic packages out the empty oat milk container. Wordlessly Nadia finally phished one out and ripped it open immediately thrusting it into Y/n’s mouth - at least 70% certain that was what she had to do with them. 

While all this was happening Harrison wandered into the garden and looked at the scene in front of him in a bit of shock. Y/n was deathly grey, looking as though she was fighting every urge in her body to just relax everything and collapse into unconsciousness. Nadia kneeled in front of her, already working on ripping another packet open. After taking a moment or two to process what was happening Haz knelt down next to Nadia. 

“You need me to do anything?”

“I -er don’t think so… actually Y/n?? Y/N????” Nadia started violently shaking Y/n whose eyes had finally slipped shut. “Fuck shit fuck… you need to ring an ambulance Haz.”

“Your serious?”

“Deadly. I’ll explain later just get your phone… tell them she was having a hypo and now she’s unconscious. The er the number on the machine thing was 2.8”

Harrison didn’t argue; he did what he was told and an ambulance was immediately dispatched while Nadia followed instructions of the operator that had been put on speaker, still dropping the sachets of liquid down into her mouth. In fact, when they heard the ambulance pull into their road, Y/n started to stir- groaning and heavily blinking her eyes open. 

It was a bit of a blur, but the paramedics came in and slowly Y/n started to get more with it. 

“You know what happened to you love?” The kind-eyed Liverpudlian lady asked, removing the oxygen mask that was put on her as a precautionary measure, in the haze of them arriving. 

“Blood sugar low?”

“Uh-huh, you’ve just had a hypo. Are you type 1 or 2?”

“Um, I-uh…” Y/n flicked her eyes up to see Haz still stood looking very concerned while Nadia spoke to the other paramedic in hushed tones. “Neither… I got pancreatic cancer and so…so my whole pancreas is kind of dying.” Y/n could practically hear Harrison's eyes bugging out his head - but kept her eyes firmly on the blonde stout lady. She wasn’t ready to face that yet.

“Oh, lovie... you have to be really careful yeh? Hypos can turn to a coma really quick and you know what happens then.”

“I’m sorry, I uh guess I forgot to eat and then been running on adrenaline cos of…” Because of Harry. But she wasn’t about to pour her heart out to a complete stranger so instead shut her mouth. Emma, the paramedic, seemed t9 get the message and again smiled down at her gently.

“It’s okay I get it... so you know then that because you lost consciousness really we should be taking you to the hospital? Get your bloods checked?” The grimace on Y/n’s face was more than enough to answer her.

“Please I just want to sleep-“

“You need to go to hospital Y/n/n” Haz interjected who had been completely silent and still in shock. Yes, she wasn’t his girlfriend, but they were bloody close and he still hadn’t really had an explanation. 

“I just want to sleep and-and I got a lot of explaining to do” Y/n made the mistake of momentarily looking up to see Harrison’s glassy eyes and Emma followed suit. 

“You the boyfriend?”

“No, i- um I’m his housemate.”

“If we are even still together” Y/n mumbled her eyes trained on the ground. In response, Haz huffed indignantly sitting down right beside the slightly crippled girl and slung his arm around her shoulder. “Don’t you worry about that hey? Everything’s is gonna be fine.” Her head came to rest on his arm making Haz bend down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. She was sort of the other sister, having been on the scene much earlier than Nadia had, he’d come to really get on with her. 

After a moment of just being there with Haz, Y/n simply thankful he didn’t seem to hate her or believe the rumours anymore, Emma spoke up. 

“So a hard pass on the hospital is it? Because then we should just think about getting you inside to rest.” Y/n nodded hard, very clearly expressing her preference, making the two chuckle. “They’d only be checking your blood levels which I can get a doctor to do tomorrow morning from home. I’m not supposed to say this but it's okay to stay.” It was all going swimmingly until they heard a very very familiar voice. 

“What the hells happening?” 

[silverbyeol]

Mittens | Peter Parker

Summary: (Y/n) walks around New York on Christmas Eve, thinking back to when she was a teenager in love.

Author’s Note: I got this idea when I heard ‘Mittens’ by Carly Rae Jepson! This is my first ____ x reader story on Tumblr, would love feedback (: 

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning... Angst and mentions of dead

*Anything in italics is a flashback (memory)*

18 years old is too young to die.

Today was Christmas Eve and I was back home from university for holiday break. Coming back to New York has been hard, especially since it has been almost a year since the incident-

“(Y/n)? Are you coming?” came my moms voice from the doorway of my room. My head snapped up, breaking me from my trance. I sent her a smile and a small nod, “We’re all waiting for you,” she finished with soft eyes and went back to the dining room where guests sat at a grand table, enjoying Christmas dinner.

I stood up from my childhood twin sized bed and looked around my old room. Nothing much changed since I last was at home. My old bed still had girly bed sheets and an old princess comforter lay neatly across the mattress. The walls were painted a light pink that seemed to fade more and more daily. A desk stood across from the bed and on top of it, lay clutter items. They all seemed boring, but one item, which caught my attention almost immediately. It was placed face down being illuminated brightly by the moonlight. I walked closer to inspect the object. It was a photo of Peter and I. A tear fell down from my eyes as I remembered…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Pete!” I yelled as I let myself into his apartment.

“Hey, (Y/n),” I heard Peter’s aunt call out.

“Hey, May!” I said and smiled at her. It was new years eve today and May was dressed in an evening dress and had her makeup done- obviously heading out for the night.

“Peter is getting ready- PETER! (Y/N) IS HERE!” she yelled for Peter, “You look so cute, (Y/n)! Where are you two heading off too?” she asked. I looked down at my silver sequin mini dress and smiled.

“My best friends party! We’re going to pick up Ned on the way over,” I smiled and answered her question.

“Hey, (Y/n),” I heard a male voice and turned my attention towards Peter’s room, “you ready?” he asked, standing in the middle of his rooms’ doorway.

“I’ve been ready, Parker, just waiting on you,” I said and walked over to give him a hug. There was suddenly a flash and a squeal making Peter and I look at May.

“What? You two looked so cute. You’ll thank me later for this photo,” she said and we rolled our eyes at her

…

“Let me see, dork,” I teased as I looked at Petes phone. It was the photo that May snapped of us earlier in the night.

“We look good,” Peter commented, making me inspect the photo. Our faces were hidden, buried in each other’s necks, and our arms were grabbing at each other's backs, as if we relied on one another to stay afloat.

“You can barely see our faces,” I giggled.

The photo held so many emotions between two teens who had no idea they were in love with one another…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“(Y/n)? How do you like Princeton?” asked the familiar voice of Peter’s aunt, May. I looked up from my food trying to not make eye contact.

“It’s going pretty well,” I replied vaguely. There were so many thoughts and emotions running through me. I needed fresh air, “I’m sorry. I need to excuse myself,” I said and stood up from the table, all eyes on me. Before my parents could call after me, I grabbed my coat from the closet and ran out of the building.

I looked around the dark streets of New York and, absentmindedly, started walking towards nothing in particular. Hearing and seeing May after all that happened was overwhelming. It’s been almost one year since Peter Parker, my boyfriend, died. It was a sudden death, in which he was outnumbered and outskilled.

I stopped in my tracks and looked into a dark alleyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a sunny mid-afternoon. Everyone was busy with either being at work or at school, so the streets of New York were, for the most part, empty. I was walking home from an early school dismissal; headphones in my ears blasted a pop song, a lollipop was in my mouth, and my school uniform was unbuttoned, revealing a band t-shirt underneath. My eyes were locked onto my phone's screen as I swiped through Instagram, liking a bunch of my friends’ photos. I feel a tap on my shoulder and stop in my tracks. I pull out an earphone and make eye contact with a stranger.

“Sorry, Miss. I was wondering if you have a dollar to spare? I’m really hungry…” he trailed off. I scanned him up and down, he looked dirty and his clothing was all torn up.

“Sure…” I said, feeling slightly sad about his situation. I reached into my backpack and pulled my wallet out, I was about to hand the man a twenty dollar bill, so that he could get himself a warm meal when suddenly my wallet was snatched out of my hand. I looked up and saw the same man running away, my wallet in his hands

“HEY!” I yelled and took off chasing after him, which was a mistake. He turned into an alley and as soon as I was out of the view of people, four other guys came out of the shadows and circled around me.

“She’s just a high school student,” one of them said angrily and shot daggers into the homeless looking man.

“Is okay. We can use her as ransom…” another guy trailed off.

“Or maybe even have some-”

“Or maybe, I can kick your criminal asses,” came a voice from above. We all looked up to see a tall slim figure. He wore a red and blue onesie making him instantly recognizable. It was Spider-man.

“Oh yeah? Whatcha gonna do, huh? Tie us up with your webs?” asked the first guy.

“Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” he said and all five guys were suddenly stuck to a wall with white web like material. Spider-man jumped in front of me making my eyes go wide.

“Are you okay, Miss?” he asked. His voice was calm and collected, opposite of the voice he used when talking to the men.

“I don’t even know what happened, it all went down so fast…” I mumbled looking at his mask, trying to read his expression, “Thank you, Spider-man,” I said coherently and smiled.

“It’s my job,” he said and shrugged his shoulders. Without thinking I slowly reached for his mask, “What are you doing?” he asked slightly panicked.

“Thanking you…” I said. His mask was quickly pulled up to his nose, revealing his chin and lips. Without thinking, I stood up on my tippy toes and gave his lips a chaste kiss. In the distance sirens were heard making the hero pull away.

“Th-thanks for the k-kiss, I-I’ll see you around,” he stuttered and shot up onto the sky, leaving my grinning.

Spider-man just saved me and I kissed him....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I smiled looking down the alleyway. It was the first time I met Peter and the first time I kissed him as well. A bittersweet memory. I kept walking looking up at the sky, thinking back to how Peter and I came to become friends and eventually boyfriend/girlfriend.

I halted in my steps as I stood before the cemetery. New York City was dead silent, only the sound of the wind traveled through the air. My eyes scanned the area and fell at one headstone. It was filled with a lot of pictures, stuffed bears, candles, and of course a lot of spider-man merch. I walked towards the area and carefully made my way through all the objects, trying not to step on anything.

‘Peter Benjamin Parker’

Spiderman

2001-2019

I kneeled in front of the headstone and just looked at the words; Peter Benjamin Parker. After he passed away, everyone learned of Spider-man’s real identity. Classmates from high school came out to show support and the media made millions from reporting his death, none of that mattered though. Nearly a year later, people still come out to his grave to show their appreciation to everything he’s done for the city. Peter was not only a good person, he was a hero, but, unfortunately, not all heroes live forever.

I looked down at my red hands. The night was freezing and I only had my coat to keep me warm. I placed my hands into the pockets of the coat. The fingers of my right hand came in contact with something fuzzy. Quickly I pulled the object out, it was a pair of mittens… Peter’s mittens.

~~~~~~~

“(Y/n)!” I heard a male voice yell my name. I quickly spun around and saw the familiar face of Peter Parker. His brown locks bounced up and down as he ran towards me.

“Hey, Peter,” I said and gave him a small smirk as soon as he caught up to me, out of breath.

“You’re fast, you know?” he said, frowning his eyebrows as he bore his chocolate coloured eyes into mine.

“What? I was just standing here…” I said, pointing at the bus stop.

“I waited outside your school, I wanted to walk you home,” he said, scratching the back of his head, looking away. My smirk suddenly got wider.

“You’re my boyfriend, Peter… You can just text me to let me know you want to walk home together,” I said and kissed his pink tinted cheek, “Let’s go,” I grabbed his hand into mine and started leading him towards my home.

“Do you not have gloves?” he asked, noticing my uncovered hands.

“No, I was in a rush today,” I answered and he halted our tracks.

“You must be so cold!” Peter said with a hurried voice. He grabbed both my hands and brought them up to his mouth, exhaling warm breath onto my fingers. I giggled at his action, my boyfriend is so cute, “What?”

“You’re just so cute,” I commented, making him roll his eyes. Peter quickly removed his black gloves and his warm skin made contact with my icy hands.

“Here. Put them on,” he curtly said, holding his gloves in front of my hands. I took them hesitantly.

“Aren’t you going to get cold?”

“Don’t worry about me, your presence is enough to warm me up,” he winked and gave me his dorky smile.

~~~~~~

“You may be gone, but you’re still looking out for me,” I chuckled to myself, talking to Peter, as if he was there by my side. I slid my hands into the mittens, already feeling much more warmer. I brought my hands up to my face and covered my nose with them, inhaling the scent that was still left over from their previous owner.

“Thank you, Peter…” I whispered looking up at the sky.

“I miss you…”

~

I hope that you enjoyed reading! 

[hopesilverheart]

Title: I loved your colours (before I loved you) Artist: @calliartss​ Rating: Explicit (Chapter 10 only) Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Clary Fray, Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood Word Count: ~95k Summary: Magnus Bane is a journalist who's always dreamed of modelling for Lightwood Fashions. When the CEO Alec Lightwood starts looking for new models for their spring collection, he jumps on the occasion.

In the meantime, Alec Lightwood is struggling with the idea of finally announcing his role as co-designer. When Magnus Bane strolls into his life, Alec is torn between keeping his secret or throwing all caution to the wind.

This fic was created for the Malec Discord Mini Bang 2020.

Chapter 6: He got my heartbeat skipping

It was just a date.

Alec had been on dates before, and they had gone – for the most part – completely fine, so there was no reason for this one to be any different. Sure, Magnus Bane was way out of his league and far prettier than anyone he had ever met, and he was probably going to be thoroughly disappointed when he found out Alec cried during rom-coms, but still… Just a date.

Alec’s first date in years. Not that it was any reason to freak out, since everything was going to be perfectly alright.

(Clary had made him repeat those exact words at least fifty times before she let him out of the apartment, but even her little exercise hadn’t been enough to make him feel better about the upcoming evening.)

It wasn’t like they were going to do anything fancy. Dinner and a movie sounded like the perfect first date, but Alec was nothing if not a worrier. He liked being in control, and he couldn’t help but fear that Magnus would choose a movie he disliked, or stumble upon the very few things Alec was allergic to, or accidentally talk about the few things Alec tended to avoid.

As he stood in front of Magnus’ building, holding a bottle of wine in one hand a pathetic bouquet in the other, he wondered if he would have been better off saying no. Sure, he would have missed out on the chance to go out with Magnus Bane, but at least he wouldn’t be risking complete and utter embarrassment with said man.

“Are you going to stay out here all evening?”

Alec’s head snapped up and his cheeks flushed a dark red as he took in Magnus’ silhouette, leaning against his building’s front door, a beautiful smirk adorning his lips. Because of course his date had noticed him lurking outside like the weirdest human being in the world.

“I’m sorry, I’m just-” Nervous, anxious, afraid, uncertain. “I wasn’t sure whether I was supposed to ring the bell or give you a call, and then I got caught up in my thoughts, and… Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s quite alright,” Magnus chuckled, taking a step forward and extending his hand out to Alec invitingly. “I do have dinner waiting for us in my loft, though, so if you’re hungry to get going…”

“Absolutely,” Alec said, clearing his throat when his voice broke on the word. “We should do that. Sorry again, I’m usually not- Well actually, that’s a lie. I’m always a bit of a mess around beautiful men, and can I just say you look particularly handsome tonight? I suddenly feel completely underdressed.”

In his black slacks and dark blue, slightly shimmery shirt, Alec felt like he was no match to Magnus’ reds and golds and sparkly make-up. The man was a beacon of light, and Alec felt like his breath had been stolen away from him when he stepped into the building and was assaulted by the glory that was Magnus Bane in proper lighting.

“Nonsense,” Magnus huffed, looking Alec up and down appreciatively. “You picked a gorgeous outfit for an even prettier man. Is the shirt one of Clary’s designs?”

“Yeah,” Alec smiled softly. “She gave it to me for my birthday last year, and I never really found the right time to wear it until now, but it’s absolutely wonderful. Of course, she had her partner to help her out, but she’s the one who did most of the work and I couldn’t be prouder of her.”

“Hmm, the two of you are quite close,” Magnus hummed, pressing the button to the penthouse level before turning back towards Alec, a curious look in his eyes. “I have to say I never quite understood why you decided to hire her before she was even done with college. I’m not saying it was a bad choice, because she’s clearly one of the most talented designers in the country if not the world, but it’s still an interesting business decision.”

“Perks of owning your own business,” Alec shrugged. “There was never a doubt in my mind that Clary would be our main designer. She had the talent, the desire to succeed, and the fresh pair of eyes the company so desperately needed. When she first joined us, Lightwood Fashions was still overrun by white men who didn’t have the slightest idea how to follow trends, but she did a wonderful job at keeping her cool and bringing her collections together.”

“And her partner?” Magnus asked, a hopeful glint entering his eyes. Alec shifted uncomfortably, because of course Magnus had managed to stumble upon one of the very few things Alec didn’t want to bring up during their date. “I know their identity is a secret, but can I just ask if they started working at the same time?”

“That would already be giving you more information than they’re comfortable with sharing,” Alec answered as patiently as he could. The last thing he wanted to do was snap at Magnus, but he had never liked people who asked him about Clary’s secret partner, completely disregarding the secret part of his title.

“I’m sorry,” Magnus winced. “My friends already told me that I should stop sticking my nose in other people’s business, but I just really love her partner’s work. Their talent with colours is really something else, and I would love to talk to them about everything they’ve achieved. I’m particularly excited about the spring collection, since it seems this is going to be a little bit different? I’m not sure how much you know about the collection as the CEO, but…”

“We’re hoping it’ll be the company’s biggest success yet,” Alec cut in with a small, satisfied smile. As much as he hated talking about his position within Lightwood Fashions – for obvious reasons – he had never been one to turn down a nice conversation about fashion and colour theory. “Our lovely designers are coming up with something completely different, and the collection should hopefully be ready by the first photo shoot, so you won’t have to wait too long.”

“You know, I always wondered if you had any interest in fashion,” Magnus admitted as they walked into his loft. “Obviously, you run a fashion business, but I know plenty of higher-ups who couldn’t care less about what goes on in the lower levels. You, on the other hand… You actually like all of this, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I really do,” Alec breathed out, looking around Magnus’ home with wide eyes. “This place is beautiful.”

So beautiful, in fact, he had to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from going on a rant about the perfect colour coordination of the loft. He knew that was one sure way to get his secret out to the public, and he really wasn’t ready to deal with all the backlash quite yet. Not that he thought Magnus would necessarily tell the whole world about Alec’s true identity, but…

Well, he had learned a long time ago that it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Thank you,” Magnus preened. “I hope you like salmon?”

Alec nodded, feeling better and better about the date as time passed. Magnus’ place was peaceful and welcoming, the man himself was obviously happy to spend time with Alec, and the food smelled wonderful. Sure, the conversation had been a little bit stilted at first, but he was sure they would manage to work that out in their own time.

Indeed, by the time both of them sat down for dinner, their plates balanced precariously on their knees as they turned the TV on, Alec was feeling more relaxed than he had ever since Magnus had asked him out.

“I can’t believe you’re willing to risk this couch’s cleanliness just to get the movie started as quickly as possible,” Alec shook his head. “At least tell me you’ve already got one lined up and ready to go, because I’m not sure I’m ready to argue about movie choices with you quite yet.”

“Rightly so, since you would lose,” Magnus smirked wickedly, pressing play and grinning when the first scene of Clueless popped up on the screen. “After all, my taste in movies is impeccable. Just give me a genre, and I can come up with an itemised list of at least twenty titles.”

“Oh really?” Alec raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. “You know, you might have to go up against my future brother-in-law if you’re feeling so confident about your cinematic abilities. Clueless may be a solid choice, but Simon is a monster when it comes to movies, so…”

“Simon Lewis?” Magnus snorted. “I went out with him yesterday, and I can promise you I have better taste than him. Even if he has solid knowledge on fantasies, sci-fis, and maybe even horror movies, do you really think he could pull out rom-com classics like I can?”

“Maybe not,” Alec admitted, because Simon had never been big on romance movies – for reasons he truly couldn’t comprehend. “But between the two of us, we could probably come up with a list that would completely trump yours.”

“How about this, then?” Magnus smiled crookedly, never taking his eyes off the movie. “Next time we go on a movie date, you get to pick all the movies, so we can see if your taste is truly as good as you make it out to be.”

Alec’s heart sped up at the mention of a second date – and maybe even more than that – but he nodded dutifully, hoping he didn’t look half as red as he felt. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about going out with Magnus again, but to hear it from the man himself… It made him feel both flustered and horribly unprepared all at once. What if he was making a mistake by putting him back on the dating scene? What if Magnus just wanted something semi-serious and just wanted some arm candy who also happened to be rich? What if it was all a-

“Isabelle told me you would overthinking everything, but I hadn’t realised how serious she was,” Magnus murmured, winking at the other man flirtily when Alec narrowed his eyes at him. “You know there are no expectations here, right? We barely know each other outside of work, and you don’t have to agree to a second date if you don’t want to. I just think we could have something nice if we tried.”

He sounded distinctively honest, and Alec suddenly realised that this wasn’t just a date. Or it was, but it could be more. He had no idea what Magnus’ dating life had been before the two of them had met, but his end of things had been pretty dry. He hadn’t dated anyone in years, and this… This thing with Magnus was the first real excitement he had felt in a very long time.

And Magnus was right; they barely knew each other. They had a vague idea of who the other was, and the attraction between them was quite obvious, but if they were to date, they would be doing it the old-fashioned way. Magnus would probably woo him seriously, and Alec would get to do the same thing right back, and he would finally get to live through the love story he had always dreamed of having.

“My favourite colour is gold,” he blurted out before he could think about his words. He blushed furiously at Magnus’ surprised look, wondering if he had completely ruined the mood, but then Magnus turned away from Cher to stare at Alec with a small smile, and he thought maybe he had done something right. “And I’m more of a cat person than a dog one.”

“Oh, thank god,” Magnus laughed. “Because I have a cat, and I don’t think I could have taken you out again if you had told me you hated them. And my favourite colour is blue, just so you know. Maybe you could give Clary a bit of a hint, try to get her to put me in some navies and skies and royals?”

He looked so hopeful, and Alec’s mind immediately started working in overdrive. He had been planning on adding more colours to the mix anyways, so why not substitute the reds he had had in mind for some blues, maybe complemented by some purples on the women’s side of things? And if he managed to mix a few gold and blue pieces together, it would almost be like Magnus was wearing-

“Or not? I completely understand if the designers want to deal with the collection on their own and don’t want to hear our input,” Magnus shrugged. “It was just a suggestion. Besides, I’m sure I’ll look wonderful no matter what your friends create.”

“I’m sure you will,” Alec agreed easily. “Now, what do you think about Cher’s fashion choices? And don’t think it escaped my notice that you chose a vaguely fashion-related movie as our first stop of the night. What’s coming up next? The Devil Wears Prada? Confessions of a shopaholic? Barbie and a Fashion Fairy tale?”

“Barbie and- what?” Magnus gaped at Alec, but the latter refused to back down from his list. “Why Alexander, you continue to surprise me.”

“In good ways, I hope,” Alec grinned. “I know Barbie isn’t exactly the greatest source of knowledge in the world, but she’s really helped me through some tough times, so Clary and I tend to watch at least one of her movies every month. Fashion Fairy Tale is by far one of our favourites, especially since it means we get to bicker about Barbie’s poor design choices.”

“You, Alexander Lightwood, banter over Barbie movies with one of the country’s leading fashion designers?” Magnus sounded incredulous, but Alec only shrugged at the other man’s shocked tone. He had stopped worrying about his strange quirks after his 25th birthday, especially since he had realised he didn’t want to fall in love with someone who couldn’t appreciate his slightly eclectic habits and hobbies. “And here I was thinking you were just another businessman who had no idea how to take care of his company outside of finances. But if you’re watching Fashion Fairy Tale on a monthly basis, you can’t be that bad.”

“A glowing review, I’m sure,” Alec smiled, relaxing into the sofa and trying to remember the last time he had felt so connected to someone who wasn’t a part of his family or on his team. “Maybe I should give an interview for the spring collection and mention my love for America’s most beloved doll. Do you think I would bring in even more customers?”

“I assure you that you already bring in plenty of customers just by looking like that,” Magnus said, licking his lips as he stared at the hand Alec had unconsciously placed on his date’s thigh. “Pretty faces do wonders for businesses, as I’m sure you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Alec said, deliberately staring straight at Magnus as he spoke, wanting to make it very clear who he was talking about.

Even as he spoke, Alec wondered what on earth had happened to him. He had never been shy, per say, especially not since he had started dealing with rich men and handsy women on a daily basis, but he had also never been quite as… brazen as he was when Magnus was around.

Maybe it was something about the man, or maybe Alec had just forgotten how to play coy after a few years lacking practice. Secretly, though, he hoped it had something to do with the connection he could all but see flaring up between them every time they spoke.

“You know, your sister told me that you’re quite reserved when it comes to dating,” Magnus drawled after a few moments of silence. “So now I’m wondering if she was just off her mark, or if I’m the exception to the rule. I came into this thinking I would have to be a lot more subtle than I’ve been so far.”

“I’m not really into subtlety,” Alec shrugged. “I mean, Izzy taught me how to play hard to get when we were both younger and more naïve, but I’ve never- I guess there’s a point in my life when I realised that playing shy and holding back affections wouldn’t get me anywhere. However, I think you have the right to know that I’m currently sweating because of how nervous I am.”

“Don’t worry,” Magnus chuckled. “I’m not much better. I haven’t dated in a while, and although I’ve always liked a bit of a chase, there's something… refreshing about you. The last thing I want to be doing so close to my thirties is playing mind games with my dates.”

“Chases have always been more of Izzy’s thing,” Alec smirked, thinking about the way his sister was all but begging Clary to ask her out with the amount of teasing and bantering she laid on the redhead.

“Ah yes, your sister and Clarissa,” Magnus grinned widely. “I have to say, they’re a rather… explosive pair. They came to see me the other day, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much sexual tension in a single room before. Have they been pining after each other for long?”

“Years,” Alec groaned.

The thing about Clary and Izzy was that they hated each other to the point of loving each other. At first, their relationship had been a disaster; they hadn’t been able to be within two feet of each other without throwing insults around, and Alec had dealt with many a migraine over the years.

And then, as time passed, the hatred and animosity had turned into something softer, something so close to love that Alec wondered how they hadn’t noticed it yet. Or more importantly, why they hadn’t done anything about it yet. Clary had come to terms with her crush on Izzy a long time ago, and Alec knew his sister wasn’t far behind, but the two of them could be extremely obtuse when they wanted to.

“I love them both to pieces, but I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to stand this for,” Alec sighed. “They love each other, that much is clear, but I think they’re both worried about falling back into their old habits. Their relationship has been built mostly on fights and drunken compliments, so I’m not sure how smooth the transition between somewhat-friends and lovers would be.”

“They’d be perfect together, though,” Magnus said, his voice stuck somewhere between questioning and hopeful. “From what I’ve seen, at least. Did you know they teamed up with each other just to get me to ask you out?”

“Yeah, I know,” Alec snorted. “No offence, but most people don’t invite their dates over on the first night, so I already suspected that they had something to do with this evening. Not that I’m complaining, since this is- Well, I mean- It could be- I’m just very happy to be here. I’m not really the type to go out, so this night in is- was very thoughtful.”

Alec cursed himself for his inability to remain suave in the face of feelings, especially since he had been handling everything so well up until then. But there was something about the way Magnus brought up Clary and Izzy, almost with a hint of uncertainty – like he was afraid Alec would be angry at him for following their advice – that made Alec feel just a little bit vulnerable. It made him feel like whatever was happening between them mattered to Magnus just as much as it did to him, and he had never been the best at dealing with requited crushes.

“Nothing thoughtful about treating myself to one of my favourite movies whilst enjoying one of my favourite dishes,” Magnus assured him, but Alec could tell he was trying to suppress a pleased smile. “And if it so happens that I get to share all of it with a pretty boy who has ridiculously similar tastes to mine? Well, I’m certainly not going to complain.”

“Ah yes, this is all done out of selfishness, and has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that my sister and best friend told you all about my love for rom-coms and good food,” Alec hummed seriously, biting down on his lip to hold back a huff of laughter.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it had nothing to do with that,” Magnus grinned. “After all, I needed to make sure you would say yes to a second date so we could prove once and for all that my cinematic choices are better than yours.”

“And then maybe a third to show the rest of the world that we can go out and behave like regular people?” Alec suggested softly, blushing as Magnus’ gaze turned fond. “If that’s what you want, of course. You might decide that my movie lists are appalling and refuse to see me again.”

“I highly doubt that, Alexander,” Magnus murmured, his hand moving to rest on top of Alec’s, effectively lacing their fingers together. “Now, do you feel up to some Devil Wears Prada? Or would you rather I bring out the old Barbie DVDs I keep for my goddaughter?”

“Very funny,” Alec rolled his eyes. “Just go along with whatever plans you had in mind. And you have a goddaughter?”

Magnus nodded as he navigated through his Netflix and selected the Devil Wears Prada, starting the movie and immediately turning down the volume, angling his body towards Alec and crossing his legs on the couch.

“Madzie,” he answered, sounding completely endeared at the mere thought of her name. “She’s my best friend’s daughter and one of the best kids I’ve ever met, although I’ll admit I’m a little biased. Catarina adopted her a few years ago and she’s been the light of our life ever since, no matter how sappy that may sound. Work makes it hard for me to see her as often as I may want to, but I’m slowly figuring it out.”

“I’m sure you’re a wonderful godfather,” Alec smiled, thinking about Magnus playing with a little girl, carrying her on his shoulders and letting her paint his nails. The image was far too appealing considering that this was only their first date, but Alec had never been the most rational man out there. “And I’m certain she appreciates all the time you can give her. At least you’re trying to be there for her, which is more than can be said for some parents.”

The topic brushed dangerously close to home for Alec, but he had a feeling Magnus would know exactly what he was talking about without having to ask. It wasn’t like Robert Lightwood’s flaws were well-kept secrets. The whole world and their neighbour knew about his blatant homophobia, his racist remarks, and the abusive behaviour that had eventually cost him his company, and Alec knew Magnus would be smart enough to put two and two together.

“Thank you, darling,” Magnus said, squeezing Alec’s fingers gently. “You know, if things go well between the two of us, you might even get to meet her. I’m sure she would love you.”

The thought of getting to know Magnus’ family, of getting to know his goddaughter, had Alec’s heart fluttering like crazy. He felt like a teenager again, getting a crush on the first pretty boy who entered the room and finding himself unable to look away.

“I’m sure I would love her too,” he choked out instead of pouring all his feelings out to Magnus and truly making a fool of himself. “And I would love to get to know her, you know, if things- If we go on a second date, and then a third, and all of that. I mean, we’ll probably be busy with the collection and the shoots and all the other things you have to do for the Media Team and I have to do for the board, but… Yeah, maybe I could meet her.”

“It would only be fair for you to meet my best friend and the closest thing I have to family, since I’ve already had a few conversations with both Isabelle and Clarissa,” Magnus pointed out. “I keep getting all the details on you and your life and all the things you like, but you have not been afforded the same courtesy.”

“They’re your colleagues,” Alec chuckled. “It’s not like you could avoid them even if you wanted to. Once Izzy’s decided to make a friend, she never lets them go, and Clary is too overprotective to let me date someone without giving her approval first, so you’re going to be stuck with them for a while.”

“And I have a feeling I shouldn’t hurt you if I want to stay alive for a while longer,” Magnus laughed. “I mean this in the best possible way, but your sister is terrifying, and Clarissa gave me quite the lecture when I was a little too nosy with her and her partner’s work. You’ve got yourself quite the protectors.”

“It’s what family does,” Alec said simply. “We protect each other. Even when they do stupid things, I’m always there to pick up the pieces and make sure they’re alright, and I know they’d do the same for me. Although I’d like to think that I make a lot less mistakes than the two of them. I swear, trouble finds Clary wherever she goes, and Isabelle gets herself involved in the most bizarre situations. When things fall apart with them, I’m the one who has to get them out.”

“Bizarre situations?” Magnus asked, suddenly looking distinctly nervous. His eyes shifted back to the TV, and he gulped loudly as he waited for Alec to answer, which was both incredibly curious and not something Alec was willing to decipher at the moment. “Like what?”

“She and our other brother, Jace, are really close,” Alec started, thinking back on the craziest thing his siblings had ever done. There were a great many stories to choose from, but one had always stuck out to him. “And when we were teenagers, they used to sneak out all the time, thinking they were being stealthy. Of course, our mom always made me follow them to make sure they – mostly – stayed out of trouble, because she wanted to keep them safe without taking their freedom away. And one time, when they were seventeen, Izzy decided it would be a great idea to go to a party, drink a mysterious cocktail, and then go on a walk through Central Park.”

“Sounds like the beginning to either an awesome comedy movie, or a horror story,” Magnus said, relaxing slightly and pausing their movie to focus entirely on Alec. It was a heady feeling, having all of someone’s attention on Alec all at once, and he had to admit it was a lot nicer when Magnus was staring at him than when his parents were.

“I’d like to think it turned out to be a bit of both,” Alec sighed heavily, shaking his head at the memory of his siblings’ antics. “Izzy was especially drunk that night and, when she reached Central Park, she suddenly decided that she was too hot and proceeded to take her clothes off, stripping whilst Jace cheered her on from the side lines. I had never been more horrified by my siblings’ behaviour before, and I don’t think they’ve ever come close to scarring me the way they did that night again.”

“Did Jace…?” Magnus prompted, wheezing silently as Alec nodded solemnly, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“Oh yeah,” Alec grimaced. “Except unlike Izzy, Jace has absolutely no boundaries. Where Izzy at least kept her underwear on, Jace threw his boxers off at the same time as his pants, leaving him butt naked in the middle of Times Square. And that was the night my siblings discovered that I followed them around every time they went on a night time adventure. Needless to say, they were grounded for a solid month after their little spectacle.”

“You told on them?” Magnus gasped, bringing his hands up to his chest as though Alec had personally wounded him. “Alexander, I never took you for a snitch! And here I was thinking you were the kind of older brother to cover for his brother and sister when they wanted to go on secret dates.”

“I was,” Alec huffed. “But even I had my limits. Izzy and Jace had scarred me, their naked bodies forever burned into my memory. So I told our mom about what had happened as payback. Other than that, I was actually a pretty cool older brother, when I wasn’t too busy reading or looking after our youngest sibling.”

“Of course you were a responsible older brother,” Magnus muttered. “Makes me wonder how you aren’t married with children by now, you know? How on earth has no one managed to win you over yet?”

“I just… Haven’t looked?” Alec shrugged. He had never really thought about it that way. Yes, he knew that there were plenty of people out there who wanted to take him out and get to know the infamous CEO of Lightwood Fashions, but he had never been interested in hooking up with strangers until he found the right one. “And it’s not like any of them came knocking at my front door or anything. My sister tells me I’m too intimidating, and Clary thinks I’m too closed off. Either way, it works in our favour, right?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Magnus grinned. “A believer might even go as far as to call it fate, especially given the way we ended up meeting.”

After that, it was all too easy to fall into a conversation about beliefs, fate and religion. Alec and Magnus’ views matched up most of the time, but it was still interesting to get someone else’s opinion on matters Alec rarely discussed with his family. Magnus was ridiculously well-versed in topics Alec knew next to nothing about, the designer found himself staring at Magnus with awe written all over his face. They had talked for hours on end, long after the sun had set.

By the time Alec checked his phone, five hours had passed, and he knew it was only a matter of time before Clary called him in a frenzy, wondering if something had gone wrong. As much as he hated putting an end to their date, he knew he had a lot of work to do the next day, and Clary would undoubtedly keep him up for three hours to get all the details about his date with Magnus.

“You have to go, don’t you?” Magnus smiled softly. “It’s getting late and we both have to be at the office rather early, so it’s probably a good idea.”

“Yeah,” Alec nodded, even though he really, really didn’t want to leave.

The beginning of their date had been slightly stilted, but then again he should have expected it, given how little he had known about Magnus and how little Magnus had known about him. Now though, after a few hours of talking, some light flirting and frankly just enjoying the other man’s company?

“Is it too soon to talk about an actual second date?” He blurted out quickly, not wanting to give himself the time to back out of it. “If you’re still interested, that is.”

“I’m very interested,” Magnus beamed. “I’ll stop by your office as soon as I have some free time so we can settle on a time and date. Hopefully we won’t get delayed by meetings or shoots or co-workers or anything of that sort.”

“That sounds perfect,” Alec said quietly, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had meant those words as much as he did right then.

He was smiling brightly when Magnus escorted him back out of the building and to his car. He was still smiling when the journalist pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, and he smiled all the way back home, up to his bedroom, and still when Clary called him for details.

And as he fell asleep, he was pretty sure he could still feel a smile curling at the corner of his lips.

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

BTS

Park Jimin/Reader [F]

Genre: Literally: just fluff and Halloween

Warning(s): The use of the word fuck like one time

Words: 1.7k

a/n: I know it’s still August, stfu.  I can write about Halloween if I wanna write about Halloween.  If y’all can talk about Christmas in like April, I can talk about All Hallows Eve.  Long story short, have a drabble that takes place after Taboo Attachment.  If you haven’t read that, feel free to click on that there link and do so. (pls love it, it’s one of my bbies)

October was your favorite month- for several reasons.  For one, it was the time of year for the best type of weather.  Breezes that chill the air just enough for the best hoodie hung up in your closet.  Leaves finally falling from their tree limbs only for them to crunch so satisfyingly under your boot heels.  

Another was Jimin’s apparent birthday he neglected to tell you about until the day of.  In which you haphazardly threw together a small party for him when he was working.  Only Seokjin, his mother and a co-worker pal of Jimin’s- Taehyung- on the attendance list.  When he came home that day, the smile he wore when he was shocked to see a small group of friends of his for his birthday showed you that this was enough. 

Lastly, the night of all nights: Halloween. 

“Hey, are you going to dress up for Halloween?” You asked Jimin.  You both sat on the couch, your legs are thrown over his as he rested his hand on your thigh, the other holding a book open as he read.  He had been reading book after book recently in his free time- find the imagination of human’s endearing.  He fancied non-fiction action the most.  He still sat in his human form, knowing his demon hand would risk cutting you with his claws.  He looked at you, eyes leaving his book. 

“Why would I need to?” 

“I dunno,” you shrugged.  “It could be fun.”  You took a sip of your tea, fresh and steamy as it sat in your mug.  A mug Jimin brought home as a keepsake from his job; the words Serendipity Spa printed in script on the side.  

“I don’t think I will,” he drew out in a breathy voice, looking back to his book.  Finishing his paragraph, he spoke again.  “What about you, dearest?  Any plans to play non-human for a night?” He joked with a chuckle.  

You smiled as you leaned to set your mug on the table and you whipped out your voice.  You inched closer to him so he could clearly see your phone’s screen as he set his book away for the second time.  You began to show him picture after picture of Halloween themed props and clothes. 

From fake blood to capes, you had it all.  You showed a pair of fake curled devil horns, fake teeth for fangs, all the black-gaudy clothes you could find and even red contact lens. 

“I’m going to be a demon,” you laughed at yourself.  “You’ll never guess what my inspiration was.” 

Jimin played along with your teasing.  “Well, if it isn’t your dashing demon husband, we’ll have ourselves a problem,” he told you.  Pinching at your side as you squirmed away from his hand. 

“Oh my- we could match!” You exclaimed.  “If you walk around as yourself- like your demon self- we could totally be the best demon couple ever.” 

“Is it safe for me to push my luck like that?” 

“Sure it is.  It’s Halloween, Jimin.  Everyone will think it’s just a costume anyway. duh.”

“Don’t ‘duh’ me,” he told you with another pinch.  “You can dress up all you want, I’ll just sleep.”  You expected that from him honestly.  You weren’t upset since you suggested it half-joking.  Jimin was very homebody recently, working tiring him out because of his skyrocketing popularity with clients who have steadily started becoming regulars.  You couldn’t blame either party.  You smiled as you leaned your head on his shoulder. 

“That’s completely fine with me.  You need to rest up too, just because your a demon doesn’t mean you don’t get tired.”  Jimin began to doze off, his demon slipping out along with his growing dreariness.  “Do you want me to stay in with you or can you hold down the fort?” 

Jimin hummed.  “You have plans?” He inquired. 

“My class is putting together a little Halloween party and I signed up for the working committee.  I’ll be helping run a small little prop-photo booth.”  Jimin remained slight.  “Oh, but I don’t have to go!  My class isn’t small but any means, so I can always skip,” you added with a small laugh.  

“No,” Jimin shook his head, letting out a breath out of his nose.  “Go have fun.  Not like I need to be taken care of,” he chuckled.  

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind.”

“Yes, love.  I’m sure.” 

When Halloween came, Jimin got home and was only vaguely aware you were working on a quick meal for him before you left.  By the time he fell onto the couch, he had already ditched his human skin, content on a nap right there. Next thing he knew, he was waking up and it was already past 8 PM and well dark out. 

“Y/n?” He called, momentarily forgetting you were gone.  Seeing a note under a glass of water, he sat up to read it. 

‘Please rest up! When you wake up, food is in the fridge (I know you don’t need it, but eat anyway.  Wife’s orders).  Bottom shelf! I’ll be home pretty late.  Happy Halloween!’

He scoffed playfull and moved to the balcony glass door.  Even on the third floor and the door closed, he could see and hear all the overseen children dressed up as they stay up well past bedtime to go door-to-door for a sweet treat or two to add to their stash. Jimin could see royalty to wicked dressed by toddlers with his excelled eyesight.  He let a small smile grace his lips. 

The single lamp lit room was comforting to the demon.  Cliche that the dark, shadow demon enjoyed the dark of his apartment.  The apartment he shared with you.  

From the couch, he heard his phone chime with a message.  It must’ve fallen out of his pocket while he slept.  Finding his place back on the couch he pulled the phone from it’s pinned position between the cushions.  It was a message from Seokjin.  He apparently volunteered to help your class (specifically you) with the party set up. 

He sent a photo of himself- ever the narcissist- along with a line of text. 

[Seokjin: Your wife dressed appropriately.  I’m not going to show you though.  Your loss.] 

He was obviously teasing, but Jimin did feel the smallest sliver of guilt that he didn’t actually get to see you dressed up for the night.  Glancing at the clock, he shot Seokjin a message back. 

[Jimin: So, when does this party end?]

Half an hour later, Jimin was meeting Seokjin at the front of a public gymnasium that the college party was currently held at. Showing up as a ‘dress up’ demon.  Seokjin- upon seeing him- whistled. 

Looking as his normal-self, Jimin sports his demonic traits the slightest bit of irony in his eyes.  Of course, pulling his finest pair of black slacks, white oversized button-up and freeing his forehead of his bangs.  The mocking cross earring in a dull silver, chains around his neck and plethora of rings on his fingers were a little added bonuses. 

“Wow, you sure take Halloween seriously, don’t you?” You even matched with Y/n!” 

“What can I say, Halloween is the best night to really be myself.” He shrugged as Seokjin clapped his shoulder.  Taking his sarcastic tone in stride when Jimin bit back his legitimate seriousness. 

Walking inside the party room was what he almost expected. Darkroom with, yellow, purple and green lights flicking around.  Students with a glow stick around their necks or wrists.  A long snack table with a cheap purple table cloth covered in bats and a Jack-O-Lantern at every turn.  There was a booth in the back for pictures with a selection of ‘spooky’ props. 

Jimin rolled his lips to keep from laughing at the costumes around him.  Hooker to nurse to batman to hobos and anything supernatural docked down was in the house.  At least 50 people in attendance with more still filing in. 

Seokjin pat Jimin’s back.  “Allow me to escort you to your lady,” he flaunted.  He was dressed up as a butler after all.  Weaving through the weeds of humans, Seokjin came to your booth.  You were inside, clean up from the last photo-goers.  “Y/n!  Your demon husband is here!” A slightly panicked squeal at Seokjin’s choice of words left you as Jimin slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.  You sped out of your booth, rounding the corner. 

“Shut up, Seokjin!” You gasped, seeing him with Jimin.  A dressed-up demonic Jimin with a face blessed by God.  “Jimin?!” You made your way over. “I thought you were going to stay home tonight?” 

“I persuaded him to come out,” Seokjin chimed in.  You offered him a glare, making him scurry off before he was faced to be met with your fury.  Disappearing into the crowd of costumes, tailcoat whipping behind his legs like a cape.  You crossed your arms.  

“It’s alright,” Jimin chuckled. 

“It is not! You’re tired and he made you come all the way out here.” You huffed as Jimin looked you over. 

“Seeing you like this,” he started.  You were dressed as a literal sin. The high-waisted garter shorts pressed into your skin, showing that your leg was more than bone (something he won’t admit to your face he fucking adores).  The fishnet excuse of an undershirt teased your stomach as your cropped and torn up black shirt exposed it.  The platform boots made you taller, making you eye-to-eye with him.  Pentagram earrings, chain choker around your neck and teased hair showing your fake horns and glower red covered eyes.  Jimin peeked his tongue out past his fang.  “Coming out was absolutely worth it. You look like a proper Demoness.” 

You pushed your chest out in pride.  “I take my demonic passion very seriously.”

“Of course you do.  You married me,” he teased.  One of your classmates volunteered to take photos of you and your husband in the booth.  You and Jimin quickly took the opportunity while it was presented. 

What other time are you going to get an authentic photo of your demon husband after all? 

Before leaving the venue, you both took a walk around a nearby block and more than a few children told you that your costumes were both ‘really cool’. You giggled each time a child swooned over Jimin- even a few mothers sent glances.  The night concluded as you and Jimin drove home and contemplated adding to your small family.  

By adopting a black cat.  Named appropriately: Pitch. 

-END-

a/n pt.2: pls appreciate the lack of curses here, bc it’s rly hard for me to limit myself.  I said fucking once and I’m proud of that. (hi appreciate the drabble pls thx)

[lukalew]

- - - The Affectionner - - A Creepypasta Origin

Axel Coss, black haired boy, with a white streak of hair going down the middle of his front hair. Strange really, not many kids a white streak of hair. But, moving on from that, he lived with his mom, Cece Coss, his dad, James Coss, and his two brothers, Ames and A.J. Triplets of course, they did everything together . Play, draw, clean, and otherwise. They all five lived in St. George, Utah, on a empty land, with their house and field. After the triplets were born tho, James and Cece decided to move to Kansas. But that didn't work out well. So, they moved to Mississippi. Where the triplets are now 15. School was pretty easy and all, everyone loved them. Well, the majority of people in their school. Axel was really the quiet and calm one, Ames, the short tempered, and A.J, the awkward type. So, they all kinda just stuck together like a pod. A couple more and now they are all 25 , well...two are at least. Ames and Axel- now , A.J ... when he turned to the age of 22, he got kidnapped and was tortured to death. LITERALLY. Nobody was able to find him. Until 2 months later, after he died he was found in a rusty old grey building. Almost looking like it was gonna collapse. His face torn, ripped...his arm and legs broken. It was just a nightmare, but thats only the start of it.

Ames got pretty emotional afterwards - Axel didn't say much after as well. He sometimes stayed in his room for hours , not eating, sleeping, nothing really, just thinking. 4 months passed and later on, Cece and James had been kidnapped by the same guys from when A.J was. And the parents died as well. The kidnappers had been caught and taken to jail. Ames soon left Axel, and if he was being honest to himself..he was glad Ames left. After everything that happened Ames started to drink and abuse Axel. Thats when his life became even more of a living hell. Work got harder, the bills were too much, and nothing could really make him happy at this point. Except for thing. Stitching. He would stitch blankets, stuffed animals, and when he got a bad cut- sometimes even himself. That was the only thing...for now. He was like cursed or something. Thats when he got to point- - -"Your fired." "What?" his voice shuddered as he clicked his pen a few times. "Your..FIRED!! You always mess up on the cars when we are on break- and you are too quiet- good for nothing piece of roadkill!" his boss, Keith, screeched as he took a fair raise of the hand and slapped him across his ear to mouth-that somehow cutting him. I mean, he was holding a wrench so- that probably why. Axel gently ran his finger down his face from his ear to mouth and felt the blood rushing out. "O-okay, under-s-stood..sir." the male exhaled taking th scarf he brought in with him because it was usually cold in the warehouse. Axel slid it on and ran home. At this point it was too much. He sat on the dining room chair rethinking his entire existence. "Do i even matter?...Of course i don't- not to my parents, not to my boss, ...not to my family.." out of the corner of his eye- he spotted a small, brown and white gun. "Thats it..." he said to himself, with a faint- but crazy smile. He walked to the gun, and made sure it was loaded. The black haired male pointed it to his heart and shot himself. Blood splattering on the wall and carpet. No screams, no cries, no pain. With the last bit of energy that he had, he shot himself in the head...

"Hey! Ax! Over here!" his brother A.J shouted waving from the field. He smiled softly and ran to the other versions of him. "whats up?" he asked kneeling down to his height. "Why do you always wear that scarf? It kinda looks like its from the eighteen hundreds." Ames spoke lifting a piece of the scarf up from Axel's neck. "Well, this girl at school gave it to me." He laughed softly rubbing the back of his neck. "Ooooooo!- Axel has a crush! Axel has a cru-" Ames interrupted what A.J said by pushing him backwards- "Oh shut up, its probably just a present." he sighed. "Whatever you say, maybe you should ask her out! Whats her name??" A.J declared getting up and picking some dandelions from the ground and putting them in his hair. "O-Oh uhh, her name is Jane-." Axel slightly blushed. Ames sighed laying down with his hands behind his head. "Yup, just as i expected- good old Jane Arkensaw.. she's kinda a brat if you ask me." "H-hey! Thats not true, she's actually really nice if you get to know her." A.J looked confused. "Isn't she the one who hasn't been coming to school for some time?" Ames glared at A.J- "Yes, yes she is." Axel replied taking the dandelions out of A.J's hair and putting them in a row at the top of his black silk hair, seeing he was struggling to put them in since they just get falling out. "i hope she's okay tho..."

HIs eyes shot open and then rubbed his head. "just another stupid nightmare..." he calls them nightmares because, well to him they are just painful memories. He put on his boots and looked at the calendar, "Huh....Macy Stars...well, this should be fun." He sighed and git his scalpel, stitching utensils, needles, thread, and his scarf. Ax put the scarf on and walked out with his drawstring bag.

(This is the bag btw)

He followed the directions where it told him to go. Now, he would normally go on his own free will and time, but it was like Slender decided when she dies. He shrugged it off and soon arrived. "This must be it huh?" Ax sighed ruffling his own hair a bit so his scar would show as much. He thought if you had scars it makes you weak, can't take care of your self. Anyways, he quietly entered through her back door,which was unlocked. "Who leaves their back door unlocked at a time like this?" The medium hight male said looking at the sunset and took in a deep breath then exhaled. That sorta calmed him down. Axel walked up the stairs and looked in the bathroom to see her doing her makeup. He had to admit she was beautiful, but still worthless to him. She was in fact a girl that went to his school. "There we go!" She smiled at herself in the mirror and did a duck face as if the mirror was taking a photo of her. She was really nice to him and all, but he didn't care, he didn't care about any of the victims of his. "They don't deserve this love...." he shuddered under his breath. Axel walked in holding a scalpel and his eyes now looking fully gold. The brown faded away, no mercy in his look. Macy spotted him in the mirror and screamed backing up her back hitting the sink. "How did you get in my house?!" She screamed and reached for a small mirror of hers and hid it behind her. "That's a pretty stupid question to ask...more concerned how I got in your house...then how your gonna survive this? Well, I can answer that for you. Your not." He walked to her and slashed the scalpel across her face- giving her a scar as well, "OWW- YOU LITTLE-" She screamed in pain holding one side of her face and taking the mirror and trying to hit him with it. Axel sighed seeing her on the ground, she had fell. He bent down, and grabbed her arms- putting them together. "W-wh-What are you doing....?!" She asked in a shaky tone. No response, he softly held them tightly tighter and took out his stitching utensils and started to weave her arms together. "Ow stop please!!" She begged trying to kick him- but he was almost done with the stitching process. Is she really that weak, stitches don't even hurt that bad, it's like poking yourself with a sharp en or pencil. Macy looked down at her sewn arms and her eyes as wide as the galaxy. "I really don't like loud noises you know... so, if you would have just been quiet I wouldn't had have to do this.." he softly whispered in her ear and sew her mouth together. No matter how hard she tried to scream- it was all just muffled noises. "There we go. Now, if you don't mind me, I will proceed to kill you." Her eyes were wider now. Tears formed in her eyes and just looked down. "Aww.. come on now-" he started to say, lifting up her chin and wiping the tears away. "I'm just putting you out of your misery- we only live in this world to die, it just is stressful for me to see people in pain like this." That was a lie of course. He didn't care if his victims were hurt, physically or mentally.

He cut open her stomach and found her heart. "There it is..." he took another piece of thread and needle then started to stitch a X into her heart. Soon, a golden piece of light came out of her heart and Axel held his arm out-the light transferred to his arm and he sighed in relief. "That felt good," he thought then looked down at Macy. "You know, life is as valuable as your love.." he smiled then ripped her heart out in one light pull. Her body falling to the floor . He smiled softly and set the heart near her makeup. He always set the heart of theirs next to something they loved. "Now that that's done," he sighed getting up and grabbing all his things and heading out.

His appearance strikes so many people, sometimes he would pretend to be a human to lure in victims. He is a handsome, kind, boy- so it's pretty easy. But he doesn't do it often, only when there's nobody really good to kill.

He still has his black hair with the white streak. And of course, he wear a big grey scarf around his neck with a small black X at the bottom of the end of the scarf. A beige, sorta brown jacket. Sometimes he would wear a black zipped up leather coat, but that's only when it's really cold outside. Black pants with a chain going form the top right corner of his belt, to the lower half of his left side. Sorta like his scar. Black boots with a stitched in X at the bottom corner of both boots. Some witnesses have said he is a tall, around 5'5 , male. Some people say he takes in emotions, that's not really it tho...

See, what he can do is- he only takes peoples lives, who get a lot of love, and give a lot of love, and not really sad people. He would climb through their windows at night , or when they are alone. But in some cases he just breaks in wherever he can. Axel is a ghost, spirit, otherwise. But he doesn't really like doing all of that appearing in thin air thing. Ever since people have reported sightings of him, he tries his bets you stay of out sight. Axel will use his stitches to sew a big X into their heart so he can acquire all the love that has been given to the person, or, the love that they have to share. If they attempt to scream or fight back, he will sew their mouths closed- or arms and legs together. The reason he takes the affection from his victims is because, his parents gave him none- and when he was alive, nobody gave him any either. After some time, the affection runs out, so he needs to restock it every 2-4 days. If one of his victims try to give him affection before they die, he will go to their height smile at them , and say...

"Im afraid ...your love means nothing to me.."

He also has another famous quote which is..

"Life is as valuable as your love."

If he were to go on a mission with a creepypasta - his most compatible people would be

-Puppeteer

-Jason The Tomaker

-Eyeless Jack

- Laughing Jack

- Jane The Killer

- Sally

- Zero

- and Judge Angels

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Calling (6)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -  In which the ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on how much you would enjoy it.

Chapter Six - Mrs Captain Spandex

“WHY THE FUCK IS ROGERS ON A DATE WITH MY CHILD?” Tony screamed as he rushed into the common room.

“You mean why is the literal embodiment of chivalry on a date with the adult daughter that you acquired two days ago? Darcy sassed.

“Exactly, why is the precious innocent girl I cherish on a date with a hundred year old man?” he rebutted.

“Tony, the independent grown up woman WE love very much is having dinner with our very good friend whom we respect and trust. Please calm down.” Pepper tried to soothe, barely concealing her amused smirk.

“Did the winged wonder know about this? WILSON!” Tony spun round, searching for a target for his fury.

“Sams in the kitchen hyperventilating into a paper bag.” Darcy supplied.

“Wait a second, you knew about this!” Tony accused Pepper.

“Yes I did.” Pepper stated calmly, arching a brow at Tony.

Tony faltered, torn between concern and outrage at the situation and fear of Pepper.

“But… isn’t he supposed to ask my permission first?” He whined petulantly.

“Not until he wants to ask for her hand in marriage.” Darcy happily chirpped, munching on the leftover popcorn from the movie.

Pepper sighed and had to resist the urge to facepalm as Tony’s face started rapidly turning red.

“SHE IS NOT MARRYING CAPTAIN SPANDEX, I FORBID IT!” He bellowed.

Darcy’s snigger turned into a full on cackle as Sam’s wailing voice drifted out of the kitchen.

“But why did nobody tell me? I had to find out through a group text, I feel so betrayed!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You tugged on your seatbelt and whined. Steve was being stubborn and you did not appreciate it.

“I’m supposed to be showing you how you’re supposed to treated on a date sweetheart, and you deserve the world.” Steve argued.

“I don’t want the world, I want a burger!” You protested.

“The restaurant Pepper booked is supposed to be one of the nicest in the City.” He tried to reason with you. Unsuccessfully.

“You don’t want to go to a fancy place any more than I do, I know you.”

“If you take a take a beautiful dame out for dinner you’re supposed to treat her.” He argued weakly.

“I dunno Cap, I think you’re supposed to give the lady whatever she desires.” Happy piped up from the front seat.

“This is why you’re my favourite Happy.” You told him as he caught your eye in the rearview mirror and shot you a wink.

Steve chuckled at your antics as the car rolled to a stop.

“Oh look, we’re here.” Steve told you.

You looked out the window and back to Steve with a quizzical expression. He just raised an eyebrow at you smugly.

“You were never taking me to the fancy restaurant Pepper booked were you?” You laughed.

“I had a gut feeling you’d enjoy this more. They have the best pie in Brooklyn.” He said, getting out of the car as Happy opened your door and helped you up.

“And yes, they have burgers.” He assured before you could ask.

“Yay.” You whispered under your breath excitedly.

Steve laugh and ruffled your hair and you batted his hands away like a cat batting a ball of string much to his amusement. He caught on of your hands in his and tugged you into the cosy little diner.

You gasped softly as Steve opened the door and waved you through. The little retro diner was like stepping into the past, or onto a set of one of the old movies you had watched with the man standing beside you.

“Did you used to come here? Before?” You asked.

His answering smile was filled with the sadness of loss and fondness as he nodded. Your heart broke a little for him and you wrapped your arms around his waist.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Bucky stormed down the hall towards the elevator, needing to get out of the tower. He didn’t have a  destination in mind he just planned on walking until his body shut down.

“Did you get my text? Didn’t they look cute together?” Wanda called from behind him.

Bucky paused without turning round, clenching his jaw.

“No.” He snarled out.

“No, you didn’t get it? That’s ok, I’ll send it again. You really have to see it, they looked so excited for their big date.” She exclaimed excitedly and promptly walked away before he could even think about saying anything else.

Bucky growled in frustration and pushed himself towards the elevator, desperation to get out of the tower increased tenfold.

Wanda however practically skipped into the common room and over to Natasha.

“You were right.” She told her.

“Of course I was.” Natasha said with her signature smirk.

“When are we going to tell Tony and Sam it’s not a real date?” Wanda sniggered.

“After they give Cap the shovel talk?” Natasha suggested.

The two of them shared a conspirational laugh.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“It seemed like a good plan at the time but I had miscalculated ever so slightly because setting the explosives wasn’t usually my job and when they went off Bucky was a few feet closer than he should have been. The force of the explosion knocked him backwards, straight into the river. We all rushed over to see if he was ok and there was Bucky climbing out of the river with the most disgruntled expression you have ever seen, looking like a drowned alley cat.”

You were clutching your ribs as you cried with laughter as Steve regaled you with old tales of his exploits with the howling commando’s.

“I wish I could have seen that.” You chuckled.

“Poor Buck, he was always getting into trouble while trying to watch my back. Lost count of the amount of back alley fights he pulled me out of before the serum changed me. Then I was bigger and Buck was still watching my back, like nothing had changed.” Steve said.

You regarded his wistful expression and pushed your fries across the table to him.

“I forgot you said you used to be smaller, I can’t picture it.” You told him.

You clapped your hands together excitedly.

“I can picture it! Ohhh, Can I use your phone?” You made grabby hands at him and he handed it over with a long suffering sigh as you grabbed his hand and pushed his thumb onto the screen unlocking it.

It only took you a few minutes to find what you were looking for as Steve left you too it, polishing off the remainder of your fries. You clicked on the black and white photo and tilted your head to the side as you studied it. You held the phone up to Steve to compare the two.

“Huh.” You remarked.

“Yeah, I was...”

“The exact same.” You interrupted whatever self deprecating comment he was about to make.

He looked up in bewilderment.

“I mean your body was smaller yeah but you look the same, it’s still your face. It’s still you.” You said matter of factly.

You locked the phone and handed it back, peering into the fry basket with disappointment. You looked up to complain to Steve for eating all your fries but were stopped by the smile he was giving you. He reached over the table and grabbed your hand.

“I want you to promise me something.” He started.

“Ok, anything.” You agreed, not even having to think about it.

“Don’t hold back, when you find them. The person you want to be with. Don’t fight it and don’t wait around. When you find love sweetheart, grab onto it and don’t let it go.” He asked of you.

You knew why he was asking, you understood.

“I promise.” You said solemnly.

He squeezed you hand and smiled brightly, with all the warmth of the sun.

“Now about that pie..” He said and you laughed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Bucky didn’t get any calmer as he walked, the cool air doing little to soothe the fire in him. He gave up and headed back towards the tower, resigned to another sleepless night. He sighed in defeat as he approached the tower and headed towards the doors when he saw something so awful he felt like he’d been punched in the chest. You and Steve were walking away from a car towards the same doors he was. Your shoes were dangling from one of Steve’s hands and his suit jacket was draped around your shoulders, his other hand entwined with yours as Steve threw his head back and laughed at something you said.

Steve’s eyes clocked Bucky and with mirth still on his face he called out.

“Hey Buck.”

Your eyes followed Steve’s and you grinned

“Hey there Sarge.”

Bucky glowered coldly at the two of you, before nodded once, stiffly at his oldest friend.

“Steve.” He said flatly and stalked through the lobby doors and towards the elevator.

Of course, that’s obviously where you were both heading as well he realized. You and Steve stepped onto the elevator with him and as the doors slid closed your skin crawling giggle filled the small space,

“He doesn’t seem happy to see us.” You stage whispered to Steve.

“Everything ok Buck?” Steve asked concernedly.

Bucky grunted in response.

“I think he might be jealous Stevie.” You said, a positively vicious smirk on your face.

Bucky’s head snapped round and he glared at you incredulously. Your eyes were sparkling as you snatched your heels from Steve’s hand and swung his jacket off your shoulders and offered it back to him.

“Don’t worry Bucky, you can have him back now.” You said.

Steve chuckled and took his Jacket from you.

“The dates not done until see you safely to your door sweetheart.” Steve told you.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it from here Captain.” You assured him, stretching on your tiptoes and kissing him on the cheek.

“Thank you Steve, I had the best time.”

The elevator doors slid open and you spun out of them.

“Goodnight gentleman.”

And with that you were gone and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief.

“Buck, I...” Steve began.

“I really don’t wanna fucking know pal.” Bucky snapped and stormed away.

Steve shook his head wryly and made his way to the kitchen, slowing to a halt in the common room when he was met with Sam and Tony sat in wait, arms crossed and identical disgruntled expressions on their faces.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You stretched your limbs and let out a little whimper of relief at being freed from the beautiful but constricting dress and lingerie and you pulled on an oversized shirt as someone hammered on your door.

You laughed as you went to let Nat and Wanda in so they could demand you recount the evening for them. Only it was a furious Bucky you found on the other side of the door instead. He strode in, forcing you to move aside and let him pass.

“Sure, come on in.” You muttered sarcastically.

He reached past you and slammed the door shut.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He snarled at you.

“Getting ready for bed?”

He lunged forwards, invading your personal space and before you could stop yourself you backed away, which was a stupid move because he followed and you were now trapped between the door and his chest as he towered over you. His eyes were dark and angry, his jaw tight and his fist clenched as he looked down at you. His chest vibrated with the force of the growl that ripped out of it.

“He’s far too good, too pure to be tainted by you. You’re a fucking experiment gone rouge, a freak and he might not be able to see the monster hiding behind that pretty face of yours but I do. Stay the hell away from him.” He warned.

“Or what?” You asked, intending to say it challengingly but his close proximity and anger made your voice more hesitant than you would have liked.

Bucky blinked in surprise and he looked between the two of you with shock, as if he hadn’t realised how close he had gotten. His breath ruffled your hair as features softened slightly and he took a step back.

“Just stay away from him.”

He grabbed the door handle and pulled the door open, pushing you out of the way as he all but fled from the room. You were shook and befuddled as the encounter replayed in your mind one thing stood out. Bucky had said you had a pretty face.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

I’m weak, the positive feeback I got on the last chapter made me want write the next chapter. So yeah, second chapter in like 8 hours. Send Help.

@dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty @memanda17 @krystallynx@theonelittleone@piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes @tarastudiesalot@captainamericasbeard@buckybearbabe98 @nerdandproud-86 @clarkesardothian 

[avengerscompound]

Bringing Home Kobik - 4

Bringing Home Kobik: A Winterhawk Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton

Word Count:  1827

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Smut on the series (M|M, oral, anal), the aftermath of torture, PTSD, mentions of child abuse

Synopsis:   When Bucky decides to try to get legal custody of Kobik he meets resistance due to him being a single man. Clint steps up as a co-parent to help with the process.

Art by @bexlie-draws

Chapter 4

Moving into the new apartment went about as well as to be expected.  Bucky and Clint’s tastes weren’t too drastically different. Bucky had more personal stuff considering he’d collected it over a smaller amount of time.  Clint had less new things. It was like Bucky had rebuilt his life recently and was trying to surround himself with things that reminded him how far he’d come, whereas Clint had a few personal items he had refused to let go off and had gotten nothing else since.

There had been arguments about which couch got kept.  Clint was adamant they keep his ugly flea bitten brown one.  Bucky had a much nicer, black leather three seater with matching recliners.  The argument that had ensued had attracted the attention of a couple of random agents as they walked past.  They’d ended up going to get Steve because they were worried about Bucky and Clint killing each other. In the end, the ugly brown couch was framed by two newer black recliners and Bucky’s couch ended up in his room.

Bucky and Clint’s wall decorations all blended pretty seamlessly.  Bucky liked Clint’s tendency to decorate with photos of the people he loved, so he’d just gone and reframed the photos and added some of his own.  They’d ended up with a wall with pictures all covering it and some random spaces for photos of Kobik when she arrived and started settling in.

Clint’s bow hung on the wall by the door.  There were bookshelves with a mixture of their books and knick-knacks though neither of them particularly owned that many of the latter.  Bucky’s X-Box sat on top of Clint’s PlayStation. They had both thought they should just round out the consoles and gone and bought a Nintendo Switch.  Their rooms were just how they wanted them. Bucky’s in dark colors and neat while Clint’s had somehow gotten that ‘lived in’ feel within a day of moving in.

There was a lot of talk about what should happen with Kobik’s room.  Should they wait until she got here? Should they have it ready so she had somewhere nice right away?  In the end, they’d settled on halfway between the two. Bucky knew her best so he had the room painted in a pale blue and bought wall stickers ranging from woodland creatures to space.  He put them aside for Kobik to put up how she wanted. He bought a lot of books. Kobik loved to be read to and he loved reading to her. He filled a bookshelf with kids books he’d bought at a second-hand bookstore.  He bought a quilt and sheet set in a similar pale blue as the walls but decorated in clouds and a white princess bed. He also bought toys. Not many. Just enough so she had things to do. A small table with art supplies like paper, crayons, paints, and Play-Doh.  A few plush toys. A box of Lego. He wanted to take her shopping again when she settled in, even though he knew she could just create the things she wanted. He was determined she knew she could rely on other people too.

Once everything was ready and they were settled into a slightly uneasy routine a social worker organized to come by and evaluate them.  She arrived at three in the afternoon with a briefcase and a clipboard wearing a sharply cut skirt suit and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun.

“Ms. Anders,”  Bucky said offering her his hand when he opened the door.  “I’m James Barnes and this is my… uh… partner… Clint Barton.”

“Partner?  You’re not married?”  Anders asked.

Bucky froze blinking.  He was sure they had known the exact situation this was and being faced with the fact that they thought he and Clint were an actual couple he didn’t know what to do.

Clint sidled up beside him and offered Anders his hand.  “Well, you know. We thought about it, but we aren’t really great at doing the whole ‘everyone staring at us’ thing.”

“Really?  But you’re Avengers”  Anders asked shaking his hand.

When she released his hand Clint moved his palm against Bucky’s and linked their fingers.  Bucky looked down at their hands and back up to Clint’s face still in a blank state of shock.  Clint nodded at him and Bucky closed his hand around Clint’s.

“Yeah, but Stark and Cap do all the talking.  We’re just background.” Clint added. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

Bucky blinked at him.  “Yeah. Uh - Right. I don’t love the limelight.”

“Come in,”  Clint said indicating into the apartment.  “Can I get you a drink? Coffee. Soda? We might have tea.”

“I’m fine, thank you,”  Anders replied coming into the apartment and looking around.  “I must say the whole raising a child at the Avengers compound is throwing me.”

“Well, I guess it’s like being raised on a military base, right?  Lots of kids do that.” Clint countered. “Only this is a little more stable because we don’t have to move every couple of years.”

Anders walked around the apartment ticking things off.  She paused at the wall of photos and looked them over. “You are confident this is a safe environment for such a small child?  The Avengers Tower seemed to attract danger.”

Bucky’s fingers tightened in Clint’s hand and Clint tapped out a random pattern on the back of his hand.  “Let me be honest with you,” Bucky said. “This world we live in, it’s a mess. But she’s also not a normal little girl.  She’s the most powerful being in the universe and she could rewrite the world to fit her exact desires. She needs to have as normal an upbringing as possible.  She needs to be a kid. To be able to learn and play and just be. But she also needs to be somewhere where people are best equipped to deal with her on the days that aren’t good.  And that’s here. With us. I love that little girl like she’s my own. I want to adopt her and give her a normal life. I’m also not deluded about what’s at stake here.”

Anders gave a small nod and scribbled something else on her clipboard.  “Do you have a room set up for her?”

“Yeah, right through here,”  Clint said, heading toward her bedroom.  Bucky and Clint showed her around the rest of the apartment.  Bucky’s room was explained away as a spare room. They showed her the yard they’d set up with a jungle gym and sandpit.  They walked her out to the edge of the forest with Lucky on their heels to see how much space she had to explore. They took her for a brief tour of the facility so she could see what happened there.  They talked about schools and parenting strategies. Moral philosophies and cooking. When they made their way back to their apartment Bucky was holding Clint’s hand so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

Anders sat at the kitchen table flicking through her notes as Clint stroked the back of Bucky’s hand in soothing circles.  “I’m going, to be honest with you Sergeant Barnes, Mister Barton…”

“Agent.”  Clint corrected her.

“Sorry what?”  Anders asked.

“Agent Barton.  I have a title too.”  Clint said.

She shook her head and tapped her pen on the clipboard while Bucky glared daggers at Clint.  “Right, sorry. Agent Barton.” She said. “I can see you care for each other and you do want what is best for Kobik,”

Bucky stopped breathing and the sound of his pulse in his ears seemed to drown everything else out.  His fingers tightened so hard on Clint’s fingers the archer made an involuntary whimpering sound.

“If it was any other child I’d be extremely hesitant about green-lighting this adoption.  You aren’t married. You both have dangerous careers. You are both ex-criminals.”

Bucky let go of Clint’s hand for the first time since he’d taken it and jumped to his feet and started pacing.  “Hey now, we… we’ve made right for that.” Clint protested.

“You are both ex-criminals.”  She repeated. “You live in a compound that attracts attack.  I would either reject it outright or at least visit several more times to makes sure you were taking the safety concerns seriously.”

Bucky turned to face the wall trying to keep himself together.  All he was hearing right now was it wasn’t happening. All the work they’d put in and that little girl was going to be for nothing.  Kobik was going to be raised in a government facility until they successfully reprogrammed her into the weapon they want her to be, they’d turned her back into the cubes or she’d torn the world apart to stop it from hurting her.

Clint reached up and took Bucky’s hand again.  He tapped his fingers on the back of Bucky’s hand and Bucky turned and looked down at him.  Their blue eyes met and Clint gave him a small smile and nodded in the direction of Anders.

Anders cleared her throat.  “But you’re right, Sergeant Barnes.  She’s not a normal little girl. Her physical safety isn’t the issue.  It’s her emotional one. She is most likely better off here with the two of you loving and guiding her given your pasts, than anyone else.  I am going to approve this.”

“Oh, thank god!”  Bucky sighed. Clint got to his feet and wrapped his arms around Bucky’s shoulders as the much larger man melted into him.  “She’s coming home.” He whispered.

Clint smiled leaning his cheek against Bucky’s head.  “Yeah, she is.”

Anders packed her papers into her briefcase and stood.  “We will check in regularly, particularly to begin with.  You understand that?”

“Yes, of course,”  Bucky said, letting Clint go and shaking Anders’ hand vigorously.  “We won’t let you down.”

“It’s not us you should be worried about.  It’s her.” She said.

“Right, yes,”  Bucky said, nodding and following her out to her car.

“I’ll send the paperwork through.  She should be here within the next couple of weeks.”  Anders said and got into her car.

When the woman pulled away Bucky turned to Clint grinning.  “We did it!” He said hugging the man again.

“We sure did, buddy,”  Clint said squeezing Bucky tightly.  “Think you might have broken my hand though.  And I use that. A lot.”

“Sorry,”  Bucky said quietly.  “I just -” He pulled back and looked down at Clint.

Clint shook his head smiling.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks, Clint.  You don’t know how much this means to me.”  Bucky said. The urge to kiss him had taken hold and he smothered it down.  “I - I think I might go work out.”

“Sure.  Maybe we can have a celebration later?  I’ll call Tony.” Clint offered.

Bucky nodded.  “Sounds good. I’ll see you there.”  He said striding away. Clint was definitely a problem.  Now he just needed to figure out how he was going to address it.

// NEXT

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

There Are Many Ways to Say ‘I Love You’

The five times Derek indirectly tells Stiles he loves him, and the one time he says it out loud.

For @evanesdust

Winter brought the coldest nights to Beacon Hills, and with a large glass window that almost ran the full length of their bedroom wall, it was hard to keep the heat in. An old white space heater sat in the corner of the room, but the controls were finicky; it didn’t switch off once it reached temperature and it would often to overheat the room.

Derek had his natural body heat to keep him warm, but Stiles often felt the full force of the bitterly cold winters.

Derek had tried sleeping with the heater on, but it would quickly get unbearable, and the two of them became restless. So, he got creative; he bought Stiles an electric blanket, small enough that it would only heat Stiles’ side of the bed, but it broke.

Derek laid awake, listening to Stiles toss and turn.

The young man would curl into a ball beneath the pile of sheets and thick blankets, shivering as he fought to stay warm.

Derek let out a soft sigh, rolling over and shuffling across the mattress until Stiles’ back was pressed against his chest. He reached around the young man, enveloping him in his warmth. He nuzzled his face into the curve of Stiles’ neck, feeling Stiles turn slightly and press himself further back against Derek’s warmth.

Stiles’ shoulders dropped as he exhaled, letting out a content hum as he melted into Derek’s arms.

Derek craned his neck, pressing a soft kiss to Stiles’ temple.

“I love you too,” Stiles muttered sleepily.

 Stiles rubbed at his sleepy eyes as he made his way into the kitchen, shuffling onto the bar stool by the bench and watching Derek move about the space.

“Morning,” Derek greeted as he set a mug of coffee down on the bench before him.

Stiles beamed up at him, his voice quiet and lethargic as he muttered, “Mornin’.”

Derek turned back to the percolator, poring himself a cup of coffee.

Stiles lifted the mug to his lips, inhaling the rich smell of the fresh coffee beans. He took a sip, tasting the sweetness of the sugar and cream. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” Derek asked, glancing over his shoulder at Stiles.

“How do you always make my coffee perfect?” Stiles took another sip before setting the mug down on the counter. “I do the exact same thing you do, but it never tastes the same.”

Derek bowed his head to hide the smirk that lifted the corners of his lips.

“Only you can make my coffee the way I like it.”

Derek poured his coffee into a cup and carried it over to the bench. He set it down and leant forward, brushing his lips across Stiles’ in a sweet, chaste kiss.

Stiles smiled, a soft pink blush colouring his cheeks. He drew in a deep breath, the sweet smell of pastry drifting through the air. Stiles glanced over Derek’s shoulder at the oven, his eyes widening with joy. “Are you making fresh croissants?”

A sweet smile played across Derek’s lips. “With chocolate.”

Stiles beamed, looking at Derek lovingly as he said, “I love you.”

  Derek slid the spatula under the pancake and flipped it over. The pan sizzled as Derek grabbed a plate. When it was ready, he slid the pancake onto the plate and added chocolate chips and berries – the way Stiles liked – just as Stiles dragged his feet into the kitchen.

Sleepless bags hung under his dark eyes, his gaze clouded and lethargic. His eyes were still red from crying.

Derek had sat up with him all night, holding him close as he cried and whispering to him that it’d all be alright.

“Melissa called,” he muttered, his voice raspy. “My dad’s stable. They’re moving him out of intensive care and she’ll call me when he’s conscious.”

“That’s good to hear,” Derek said, trying to sound reassuring.

The phone call last night had shaken them to the core; Stiles’ dad had been shot. He had been rushed to hospital and Melissa had begged Parrish to let her tell Stiles; he’d take it better coming from her, and she’d be able to answer any questions he had. She had kept him updated, telling him when his father was out of surgery and when he had been moved into intensive care, what damage the shot had done and what they’d need to do moving forward.

“If you want, I can drive you to the hospital so you can sit with him,” Derek offered. “That way, you’ll be there when he wakes up.”

Stiles shrugged as he sat down in one of the dining chairs, resting his elbows against the table and hanging his head in his hands.

Derek set the plate down in front of him, gently pushing it forward.

He heard Stiles snort.

“Bunny pancakes?” he asked, looking at the small stack of rabbit-shaped pancakes with chocolate chips for eyes and a strawberry for a nose. He looked up at Derek with a raised brow. “Seriously?”

Derek shrugged, hiding his smirk as he slid the bottle of syrup across the table to Stiles.

A sweet smile lifted the corners of Stiles’ mouth, the sparkle returning to his eyes as he flicked back the lid to the syrup and poured a sickening around over his plate. He cut into the sweet, fluffy pancakes and stuffed them into his mouth.

“If I go to the hospital to sit by my dad’s side, will you stay with me?” Stiles asked after a moment.

“Of course,” Derek replied softly.

Stiles glanced up and met his gaze, smiling.

Neither of them had to say it; it was written across their faces, in the look they shared.

I love you.

  Stiles hated family get-togethers; it was just hours of tense conversations that were only a few words from escalating into volatile arguments. His grandfather had never approved of his dad, and family get-togethers usual erupted into arguments. Most of the times it was bearable; Stiles’ grandmother was quick to separate the two men and would keep them apart until they calmed down, and Stiles usually had Derek there to reassure him it’d be okay.

But Derek wasn’t there this time: he was in New York on a business trip, which meant Stiles was on his own.

As usual, things blew up over dinner.

Stiles felt the numbness creep in as the fight started. He could only hear the muffled sound of raised voices, the sound of a shattering glass and fists thumping against the table. But everything fell silent as Stiles shoved back his chair.

Everyone around the table stared at him for a moment, but he said nothing. He stepped around his seat and walked out of the dining room, making his way through the familiar halls of his grandparents’ house and out onto the front porch.

The fresh air crashed over him, bringing his senses back to him as he drew in deep breaths of sweet pine. He blinked the tears from his eyes as he collapsed on the steps, digging into his pocket to pull out his phone.

A message from Derek lit up the screen with photos attached.

Stiles unlocked his phone and opened the messages, snorting as he struggled to smother his laughter.

Derek had sent him at least twenty photos of puppies he had found on the internet; a Dalmatian with a black mark in the shape of a heart over its nose, a golden retriever with its tongue hanging out the side of its mouth, a scruffy border collie pup prancing about, a Jack Russell puppy curled up asleep, and so many more—for no reason other than he knew it would make Stiles smile.

Stiles scrolled though all of them, wiping away the tears that rolled down his eyes. After a while he typed back a reply.

‘Thank you. I really miss you.’

Derek sent another photo: a puppy holding a sign that said, ‘I LOVE YOU’.

Stiles smiled as he replied, ‘I love you too.’

  Stiles sat on the edge of the counter in the bathroom, his head bowed as he looked down at the red welts that gathered on his knees.

Derek was quiet, his face stern and his eyes full of anger as he dug through the cupboards. He pulled out bandages and antiseptic wipes, setting them down on the counter beside Stiles.

“Hold up your arms,” Derek said, his voice gruff.

Stiles looked down at himself. The skin from his elbows to his wrists was shredded, blood welling near broken skin and the pale flesh coloured in smears of blue, black and red where bruises were beginning to show. His knees worse; the skin was torn open in gashes, streams of blood seeping into the torn fabric of his pants.

“Are you mad at me?” Stiles asked.

“No,” Derek said, although the edge of his voice suggested he was.

Derek tore open one of the small, square packets. The smell of antiseptic burnt at Stiles’ nose, making him squirm away.

“Hold still,” Derek growled. He began to wipe at the cuts, making Stiles wince as the antiseptic burnt. “Tell me again, how did you manage to do this?”

“There was a cat stuck up in a tree,” Stiles said as if it answered everything. “I wanted to help it get down.”

“And then there was a Stiles stuck up a tree,” Derek finished.

“I got down,” Stiles argued.

“You fell down,” Derek corrected. “You’re lucky you didn’t break anything.”

“You are mad at me,” Stiles said.

“Yes, I am,” Derek admitted. “You don’t heal like we do, Stiles. If you get hurt…”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said softly.

Derek let out a deep sigh.

“But I got the cat down,” Stiles added quietly.

Derek rolled his eyes, fighting the smirk that played across his lips. “You’re an idiot.”

“I love you too,” Stiles replied.

  The two of them sat at the lookout, staring out across the dark abyss that was Beacon Hills at night. It was a peaceful oblivion that stretched across to the horizon, a pool of onyx in which the few scattered houses, storefronts and streetlights that glittered in the darkness mirrored the starry sky above like a reflection on the surface of a lake.

They sat on the hood of Derek’s car, spooning mouthfuls of cheap sundaes into their mouths.

When he was finished, Derek set the empty container aside on the hood and slid to his feet. He turned to face Stiles, drawing in a deep breath as he fought to calm his racing heart.

“I love you, Stiles,” he said.

Stiles blinked in surprise; he had never heard Derek say those words.

He couldn’t help but smile as Derek stumbled over his words.

“I love how smart you are, how kind-hearted and selfless you are. I love waking up to you every morning. I love hearing you laugh, and I love seeing you smile. I even love the stupid nicknames.”

Stiles set his sundae aside, shuffling forward on the hood so that he sat in front of Derek.

“There’s a Japanese phrase: koi no yokan,” Derek continued. “It doesn’t mean love at first sight; it’s closer to love at second sight. It’s the feeling when you meet someone that you’re going to fall in love with them. Maybe you don’t love them right away, but it’s inevitable that you will. And I did. The day I met you on the reserve, I would have never thought I’d fall for you, but I did. I love you, Stiles, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Stiles Stilinski…” Derek lowered himself down to one knee, holding Stiles’ hand in his as he looked up at the young man lovingly. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Stiles said without hesitation. “A thousand times, yes.”

Derek rose to his feet, wrapping his arms around Stiles, bringing their lips together in a passionate kiss. As he drew back, he met Stiles’ teary gaze, his voice soft as he said, “I love you.”

Stiles blinked back his tears as he said, “I love you too.”

[AO3]

[glowwormsmith]

Joseph’s Birthday Bash

Uh-oh, sisters! You think the Far Cry 5 Birthday Bash was over? When I told my boyfriend about the event, he decided to make a special gift for me. I loved it. He also gave me full permission to share this on Tumblr, so to celebrate the last day of March, here is my boyfriend’s gift to the Far Cry 5 fandom. God help us all.

This is also unedited with only minor grammatical changes to make it read better. Enjoy the fic~

Summary: It’s Joseph’s birthday and everyone in Hope County is invited. Things can only go well from here.

Warning: This is a crack fic. Expect OOC-ness (though he says it’s an accurate portrayal of all the characters), general silliness, fourth-wall breaking, off-color jokes, and anything else associated with a humor/crack fic. If anything needs to be tagged, let me know.

 AN: In truth, I know very little about Far Cry 5.

Joseph's Birthday Bash

           It was a clear and sunny day at the Project of Eden's Gate compound, colloquially known as “The Father's Church.” As opposed to the compound’s usual stark and austere look, today it was vibrant; the fence that was torn open from a recent helicopter crash was fixed, and what looked to be white moonflowers were tied into every single link of every chain. Even the sign that on any other day of the year proudly displayed ��Project at Eden's Gate” was covered up with a black tarp that instead was spray-painted to say “Happy Birthday!”

           Truly, it was a surreal site.

           “Oooh, it's perfect!” A young woman in a white frilly dress exclaimed, as she took in her handiwork. “Now we just have to finish the outside of the church! Go on, mush!”

           In response, the ragtag group of strangely-dressed bald men who were the ones actually tying the flowers into the chain link fence turned to give a glassy-eyed stare to their commander.

           “Mush.” She repeated, snapping her fingers and pointing to the church.

           Sluggishly, the men picked up their basket of flowers and headed to the church.

           “Ah, Faith.” A long-suffering sigh came from just behind the gate as a man with a perfectly coiffed beard and a three-hundred-dollar coat stepped through. “As usual, you're truly an inspiration to observe. I wish I could be half as sympathetic to those in my region.”

           “John!” The aforementioned Faith beamed at the new arrival. “As usual, you're acting like a posh bitch!”

           John's head jerked back slightly at her bluntness and he was just about to retort, until another, much larger man came and put his hand on his shoulder.

           “Enough.” The large redhead grunted “Don't the two of you start. It's insufferable.”

           “Wow!” Faith said with a sing-song lilt. “‘Insufferable?’ Isn't that a little too many syllables for you, jarhead?”

           Jarhead gazed at her and gave an unimpressed grunt.

           “Really, would it kill you to act a little more ladylike?” John asked the girl. “This is why you're not in the Christmas photos.”

           “This is why you’re not--” She mimicked.

           “Really. Stop.” Jarhead said. “Joseph's going to be here soon. You know how he gets about the two of you bickering. I'd rather not hear it for once.”

           “Sorry, brother,” John mumbled.

           “Sorry, brother~” Faith mimicked, to everyone's distaste.

           “Rachel.” Jarhead warned, making her grimace slightly. “Stop.”

           Faith stuck out her tongue at him for a brief moment, then turned her head towards the church and fell silent. Suddenly, a small cloud of dust kicked up from one of the cliffs above them accompanied by a hum of an engine.

           “He's here.”

           A Jeep with tinted-black windows came into view from over the cliff, driving down into the gated compound. In moments it pulled unto the gate right in front of the three siblings. The driver's side door opened and out stepped a man who practically glowed with an enlightened aura. This was the most notable man in Hope County, Joseph Seed.

           He was also wearing a blindfold.

           “Jesus H. Christ!” Jarhead barked. “Where you driving that thing blindfolded!”

           “Jacob, my brother!” Joseph greeted, turning almost (but not quite) to face where Jacob was and spreading his arms. “My escorts told me that I had to wear this, otherwise I'd spoil the surprise.”

           “Your escorts were supposed to drive!” Jacob growled, looking towards two men in red balaclavas who stepped out of the passenger and rear seats, respectively. “I am disappointed.”

           “B-but...” One of the strangely dressed men stuttered out. “The Father--he wanted to drive!”

           “Blindfolded?”

           “Now, Jacob.” The still-blindfolded Father consoled, patting his brother on the shoulder. “It's like John 9:25 says, ‘I was blind, and now I can see!’.”

           “It's not.” Jacob sighed. “You still have that thing on.”

           “You never were the most spiritual, brother.”

           “Oh for--” The tall ginger ran his hand down his face. “Can we just get on with this whole thing?”

           “I dunno,” Faith said, twirling a flower in between her fingers. “This is kinda fun to watch.”

           “No, don't listen to her.” John wheedled his way between his two brothers and grabbed Joseph by his bicep. “Come, Brother, let us show you what we prepared!”

           Ignoring the disapproving stares from pretty much everybody, John sidled up to his brother, in a way that one could say was unnervingly close even for siblings, and led him into the compound. Stopping just before the church, John held his breath before motioning for his siblings and the followers to gather around and quickly ripped off Joseph's blindfold.

           “Surprise!” Everyone hollered. “Happy birthday, Father!”

           Joseph serenely took in the whole event, gazing at his church, defaced by clumsily pasted on moonflowers behind his piss-tinted aviators.

           “Were you wearing your glasses under your blindfold?” Jacob asked, stunned by his brother's dedication to fashion.

           “Well, Brother?!” John ignored his favorite brother's apparent psychosis. “Isn't this a wonderful surprise?”

           “It is no surprise, my children.” Joseph smiled back at all his followers, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. His visage was that of one who has truly reached enlightenment. “For I have foreseen this.”

           “D'Ohhhhh!” his followers cried, shuffling their feet, as Faith nodded sagely, completely eating it up, and John looked crushed.

           “Of course you did,” Jacob sighed, wondering why he spent any time with his family.

           “Now, John.” The Father gazed around the decorated compound and nodded his head before turning and beckoning to his younger brother. “Bring me your Devil Box.”

           “My what?”

           “Your devil box,” Joseph said, as if he was talking to a small child. “Which you use to broadcast the past onto other, squarer devil boxes.”

           John looked as if he was about to have a conniption. The rest of the followers weren't much better.

           “Your camera,” Jacob grunted.

           “Oh!” John exclaimed. “But why, Joseph?”

           “Why John, today is the birthday of our Savior,” The Father chided. “Me. Obviously today should be a day of armistice and coming together.”

           “No,” Jacob interjected, already seeing where this was going.

           “Therefore, I suggest--”

           “No.”

           “--That we invite--”

           “Seriously. This is dumb.”

           “--The deputies and their friends!”

           “Joseph.”

           “Worry not, my dear brother, things are going as foreseen.” Joseph settled the matter with a deft hand and turned to his other siblings. “John, Faith, we must prepare for our guests.”

           “As the Father decrees!” Faith screeched, turning to her homeless-looking followers who gave their agreement with a cacophony of inhuman moans.

 Elsewhere

           The town of Fall's End had seen a major downsizing since the Project at Eden's Gate had started. While it was never what would be described as a “booming town,” it had a scattered few stores with a surprising variety of goods, tailored to the unique individuals that lived in Hope County. Now all stores were closed but two: a bar called the Spread Eagle, and a hardware shop that sold guns.

           It was unfortunate for the town of Fall's End that even the followers of the Project at Eden's Gate couldn't rid them of their town idiot, though.

           “DEPUTY!” A grown man with a roughshod beard and a stylized American flag shirt shouted, as he waved his hands and ran down an empty street. “DEPUTY!”

           His shouting continued until he entered the Spread Eagle.

           “DEPUTY!”

           “Hurk!” The bartender, a blonde woman, shouted back as she cleaned her glasses with a wet rag. “Quiet down! You're bothering my customers!”

           “Oh! Hey man, sorry,” Hurk said, looking around at the scattered few patrons giving him the stink-eye from over their mugs. “I was just looking for—OH, THERE YOU ARE!”

           “Hurk!” the bartender threatened.

           “Oh, sorry, man.” The town idiot nodded back again, then proceeded to walk towards a patron who was doing their best to not look at him. “Hey, man, where have you been? I've been calling your name for the last hour!”

           The person Hurk was addressing was an iconic figure of Hope County, Deputy Rook. The deputy was, even by Hope County's standards, a complete and hopeless weirdo. They were a small person, standing maybe 5'7”, and not a single person besides their parents probably knew their gender.

           Why one might ask? Because Deputy Rook always wore some kind of weird mask on their head. Be it a big chicken mask, an alien mask, or even what they were wearing today, a gigantic eyeball mask. No one truly knew what Rook's face looked like. The deputy even wore a big horse mask to their police academy graduation, which was probably the reason they were assigned to this podunk town.

           Even more than that, they were slight of build, had shaved and waxed legs, and never spoke. Ever.

           “Hey man, have you seen the TV?” Hurk questioned Deputy Rook, who in response continued to give the impression of not looking at Hurk (which was doubly impressive, given that they were wearing a gigantic eyeball on their head) and poured their beer into the cornea of their mask.

           As expected, it didn't go into the mask and splashed everywhere.

           “Yeah? That's cool, man. But seriously, you should check it out,” Hurk continued, seemingly oblivious of Rook's indifference. “HEY, MARY MAY!”

           “Hurk. I'm going to kick you out,” the bartender countered.

           “DON'T BE LIKE THAT, MAN! JUST TURN THE TV ON TO CHANNEL 3!!”            “Hurk, the only channel we get anymore is channel 3,” Mary May sighed, as she picked up the dusty TV remote from behind the bar and turned on the small CRT that they used in the past to watch the Cougar's baseball games. “You can just say ‘turn on the TV’.”

           “WILL DO, PRETTY LADY!” Hurk screamed conversationally, as he turned back to the Deputy. “Hey man, look, it's Joseph.”

           The deputy quickly glanced up to see that, indeed, on the TV was Joseph Seed. They then got up, turned their bar stool around and continued to splash their beer around.

           “Greetings, my children,” TV Joseph spoke, static slightly modulating his voice into a deeper, more seductive tone. “I am broadcasting this message to give good tidings to you all!”

           “Oh man, I don't know what that means, but it sounds sinister, don't it?!” Hurk questioned the Deputy, who raised a finger in the air to silence him.

           Mary Mae poured them a shot glass of clear liquid, which they proceeded to throw all over their mask.

           “Yeah, I like the liquor too.” Hurk nodded.

           “Today marks the day of the birth of your Savior.” TV Joseph looked over his piss-goggles for a brief moment “Me.”

           “What an asshole.” Mary May came to the general consensus as she poured herself a shot glass of clear liquid and proceeded to throw it back.

           “As such, today will be a day of peace!” The camera zoomed out to show the entirety of the followers of the Project at Eden’s Gate crowded around what looked to be Joseph's church, but it was covered in badly placed flowers. “I invite you all to my church to partake in the merriment. I hope to see you all there!”

           TV Joseph lowered his aviators again. “Especially you, Lamb of God.”

           “Huh, wonder who he was talking about.” Hurk scratched his head as the recording abruptly cut off and repeated itself a moment later. “Must be his secret weapon.”

           Deputy Rook scooted their chair as far away from Hurk as they could. They were, unfortunately, between him and a wall, and therefore had to press themselves up against a wall to get as far away from the idiot as humanly possible.

           “But you know, man, what this means we need to do?” Hurk questioned the Deputy, who was sidling the wall and trying to very sneakily escape. “WE NEED TO GO CRASH THAT PARTY!”

           “Alright Hurk, that's it! Get out of my bar!”

 Elsewhere, sometime later

             “This is a waste of time, Joseph,” Jacob grunted from his seat at the porch of Joseph's church. “Our enemies aren't just going to waltz into here.”

           He couldn't have picked a worse time to say that, as a helicopter came into view on the horizon and the sound of a horn blaring from an 18-wheeler echoed down the cliff side of their compound.

           “Faith, brother.” Joseph gave Jacob the smuggest grin.

           In short order, a convoy of vehicles pulled up to the gate of the compound: an 18-wheeler with a flame decal, a shitty-looking jeep with a Gatling gun on the roof, some gaudy looking sports car, a black sedan, and a handful of ATVs. The helicopter came and landed next to them, followed by a red biplane that didn't quite stick it's landing and rammed into the gate slightly, knocking over a 50-foot section of the chain link fence.

           “Lovely that you all have come,” Joseph said serenely, waving to the group of people who were filtering out of their vehicles and checking the safety on their weapons. “Truly, it is a day for celebration--and don't worry, we've made enough macaroni salad for everyone!”

           “Bleh!” Hurk said in sync with a young man holding a flamethrower stylized with a shark motif.

           “Come, my children,” Joseph beckoned, conveniently ignoring anything that didn't fit his worldview. “We shall begin to make with the merriment!”

           “Check your guns at the door,” Jacob added.

             As it turned out, the community gathering didn't immediately dissolve into a crazed slaughter. There was (surprisingly for the Seed’s) a good amount of liquor provided. Deputy Hudson, the only (at least proven) female deputy, managed to integrate herself with a group of Jacob's hunters and were quietly discussing amongst themselves what the best shotgun slug on the market was. Whitehorse had a surprising love of fashion and was discussing Mumu's Fashion Week with John, who was an avid collector. Deputy Rook even managed to be companionable, if silent, after one of Joseph's followers commented that they liked the gaudy, skeleton-embroidered gloves they wore. Everyone else was laughing at the Project at Eden Gate followers suffering through the classic Seed macaroni salad. All in all, it was a good time.

           “Everyone,” Joseph called out. “It's now time for the exchange of gifts!”

           Alas, all good things come to an end.

           Whitehorse motioned to Deputy Rook, who leaned their dumb eyeball mask close to their boss. “We were supposed to get gifts?”

           Rook shrugged. It was a birthday after all.

           “Why didn't you tell me?” Whitehorse demanded. Rook turned their eyeball mask fully to face the sheriff down in a stare-off.

           “...Fine.” Whitehorse relented. “You make a good case. You're lucky you’re such a damn good speaker, Rook.”

           A deep sigh came from the mask before Rook turned back towards the Father.

           “Me first!” John shouted, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. He cleared his throat and presented a perfectly wrapped box to his brother.

           “Thank you, dear brother,” praised the Father as he carefully unwrapped the box. As he reached inside, he pulled out a painting frame. “...Modern art?”

           “It's the first sin I carved out of myself!” John proudly displayed a scar on his left underarm, “Are you not proud, brother?!”

           Slightly green, Joseph nodded, setting the framed piece of flayed skin in a pile he mentally marked as 'trash'. “Very. Next, please.”

           No one moved.

           “Come now, no need to be shy.” Joseph looked around the crowd who was trying very hard not to meet his eyes. “How about Faith? Come now, my child.”

           “Err...” Faith's eyes darted around like a rabbit staring down a shotgun. “How about Jacob first?”

           “No, no. I'm sure your gift will be wonderful,” The Father countered with a smile.

           “Sure, yeah! Wonderful.” Faith inched away. “I just have to go get it! I'll be right back!”

           The young woman bolted away. A couple minutes passed, then five, then ten. Most of the gathered guests wondered if she was going to come back (most hoped that she wouldn't). Any concerns were allayed and hopes dashed moments later, however, when she came back with a poorly wrapped and heavily-taped, ball-looking object.

           “Happy birthday, Father!” Faith exclaimed with a proud smile as she shoved the gift into his outstretched hands.

           “Thank you, sister.” Joseph serenely intoned, carefully picking at his gift in order to most carefully unwrap it, only for it to spill all over his suit. “...Dirt?”

           “It's symbolic,” Faith explained.

           “Oh?” The Father was quite interested. “How so?”

           “It's symbolic,” Faith repeated, sweat beading down her face, her ever present smile trembling slightly.

           The Father looked over his glasses at her with what half the crowd would say was disappointment, and the other half would say was understanding. “I see.”

           “Jacob!” Faith screeched grabbing her actually-not-really brother by his huge bear arm and dragged him forward. “You're turn.”

           “Fine,” he huffed. Reaching into his inner coat pocket, he withdrew a small, unwrapped cardboard box, not much bigger than a soda can. “Happy birthday, Jo.”

           “Thank you, Jacob.” The Father smiled, comfortable in the knowledge that his eldest brother would actually bring him a regular gift. He opened the box and examined the plastic object. “...What is it, exactly?”

           “It's a speed reloader,” Jacob explained, picking up the gift and holding it in what Joseph assumed was the correct configuration. “You load your bullets here, and if you ever need to reload, it'll barely take you a half-second.”

           “A speed reloader?” Joseph was baffled. “For an assault rifle?”

           “What? No.” Jacob was beginning to be as baffled as his brother and pointed to the gun at his waist. “I've never seen you with a rifle. That's for the revolver you're always totting around.”

           The Father stared at his brother for a solid two seconds before bursting out with warm laughter. “Oh Jacob, I'll never actually use this weapon.”

           “Joseph, I know you don't like guns, but--”

           “No, no brother. It's just a character design element,” The Father explained. “Why, using it would be silly.”

           “I don't understand what you're saying.”

           “Don't worry, all is as foreseen,” Joseph said, falling back to his cop-out line.

           “I'm done.” Jacob gave up, rubbing his forehead in suppressed rage, he gestured to the deputies and their compatriots. “One of you idiots can go next.”

           “Oh, I'll go, I'll go!” Hurk waved his hand and ran up to Joseph before shoving what looked to be a shopping bag right in his face. It made a satisfying “bonk” as it rebounded off his forehead. “I know we had our troubles, man, with me dropping out of the cult and all, but this has been cool.”

           “Thank you, young Herakles,” Joseph said benevolently, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head. “I'm glad—”

           “Yo, man, where did you hear that name?” Hurk tried to whisper, but it came across even louder. “My name is Hurk.”

           A rasping chuckle came from the weirdo in the giant eyeball mask in the crowd.

           “Young Herakles,” Joseph said. “You should be proud of your name. It has heritage and—”

           “WOO-HEE!!” Hurk screamed. “WHO KNOWS WHAT THESE PEGGIES ARE SAYING, AMIRITE?!”

           “I'll just open this now,” Joseph said, opening his shopping bag and taking out a rather nice bottle of wine. “Young Herakles, this is one of the bottles of wine I bought for this party.”

           “I know, man!” Hurk agreed. “I knew you'd like it.”

           Joseph looked at the bottle in his hand and set it beside him. He looked to his eldest brother and made a motion of cutting his throat. “I see.”

           Jacob grunted, grabbed Hurk by the shoulder and guided him back to his friends. “Next.”

           “Sure.” A black man with a smooth voice stepped to the front of the queue. “I've got something to give Joseph.”

           As the Father saw this guest, his eyes lit up. “If it isn't my old friend, Jerome!”

           “‘Old friend’. Sure,” Jerome said dryly.

           “I missed you, friend,” The Father continued. “Remember when we used to camp out together?”

           “You mean when you squatted in my church?”

           “Or when you had me as a guest preacher?” Joseph pushed on.

           “You wouldn't stop interrupting my Mass.”

           “Such good times.” Joseph said. “What tidings do you bring, old friend?”

           “This.” Jerome placed a half-drank water bottle in front of the father emblazoned with the words ‘Holy Water’ in still-wet, permanent marker ink. “Blessed it myself. I'm curious if you'll spontaneously combust when it touches your skin.”

           “You blessed it yourself?!” Joseph gasped. “I'll treasure it. Thank you, my friend.”

           Jerome just glared at the Father.

           “And no hard feelings about the thing with your daughter, right, friend?” Joseph pushed.

           Jerome continued to glare at the Father.

           “Haha, of course not old, friend. What a story.”

           Deputy Hudson quickly went up and dragged the preacher away before he went to strangle Joseph.

           “That will be a hard act to follow,” Joseph warned.

           The gathered looked at each other and started shoving each other to try to push one unwilling sacrifice to the head of the crowd. After a couple moments, a man stumbled out at the head of the crowd.            “I suppose I'll go,” said a dirty man with crazy hair. He walked up to the Father, dug through his pocket, and dropped a crumpled cardboard business card on his place mat. “Here.”

            “Why...Thank you,” Joseph said, inching away from the filthy man. He gave a glance at the business card before grabbing the tongs from the macaroni salad, and used it to pick up the card and bring it to eye level. “A free, 1-year subscription to...Zip Kupka's NewsBattles?”

           “It's my internet talk show,” Zip Kupka explained. “You can get it on XM radio, too. It tells about all the hard-hitting news, like the bliss in the Henbane turning all the fish gay!”

           “Lies!” Faith shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly. “Baseless slander!”

           “Wait,” Skylar Kohrs, the young fishing champion of Hope County, muttered. “Is that why there are no Demonfish out this season?”

           “What are Demonfish?” Staci Pratt, local emasculated deputy, asked the butch fisher-girl.

           “You know,” Skylar explained, holding out her hands to their full wingspan. “About this big, dorsal fins, huge teeth.”

           “Skylar,” Staci said in a slow voice, as if talking to an idiot. “There aren't any sharks in Montana.”

           “I know,” Skylar shot back. “They're Demonfish.”

           “Children, children.” Joseph held up his hands, forestalling their argument. “We're getting away from the important thing here. Me.”

           Deputy Rook idly wondered if the buffet table sporks graciously given out for the macaroni salad would make a good enough weapon to stab Joseph. Before they could act on that train of thought, an old, bearded man in an apron jogged into the middle of the crowd, shouting unintelligible madness.

           “Mphyadn, Shawdamnh Birthday,” the seemingly crazed man said. “Hadph, doart cake mera fer lpod.”

           “My child, do have peanut butter in your mouth?” Joseph offered the man a glass of wine. “You sound like you could use a drink.”

           “No Padfd Btha.” The man shook his head, but took the glass from the Father and downed it all in one quick throw. “Baday cake Tephda, Aldkh?”

           “Err,” Whitehorse broke in, seeing as none of the cult members (or their leaders) could understand this man. “Chad here's saying that for his gift, he made a birthday cake for you. He was asking if he could clear off some space to bring it out.”

           “Of course, my child!” Joseph said. “But leave the macaroni, all my children seem to be enjoying it.”

           Chad looked disbelievingly at the Father as a cry of “Your macaroni sucks!” came from the crowd, but nodded and went to his truck where he retrieved the cake, made some space on the table near Joseph, and set it down.

           “Quite an...” Joseph looked at the giant meatball in front of him. “...Interesting-looking birthday cake.”

           “Mera o Mtabaffth,” Chad explained.

           Wordlessly, Joseph turned to the Sheriff.

           “It's more of a meatloaf,” Whitehorse said. “Chad's a world-class BBQ chef. It makes more sense than him actually baking a cake.”

           “I see.” Joseph nodded, carefully cutting a small piece of the giant meatball and eating it. After a couple moments of chewing, his eyes lit up and he took a bigger piece. “This is actually quite good! What kind of meat is this?”

           Chad smiled and then said, in perfectly understandable and unaccented English, “Bull testicles.”

           The Father stopped chewing, and audibly gulped. He set his tableware to the side and nodded. “Thank you, my child. I think I'll save the rest for all my guests.”            “Oh wow, you sure?!” a man in aviators and a flannel vest pushed his way forwards before grabbing a literal handful of the cake. “Look, Kim! They got testies!”

           “...Great job, honey.” A pregnant Asian woman congratulated him from the gaggle of guests as she hung her head in shame.

           The Father watched on in fascinated horror behind his glasses as the man savagely ate the handful of testicles with an “Om nom nom!”

           “Is it really that good?” one of the Project at Eden's Gate followers wondered aloud.

           “It must be, look at him go,” another said, pointing at the man filling his cheeks with testicles. “Chad is a world-class BBQ chef, after all.

           “Hey, yeah, let’s go try some.” And so, the entire crowd of guests meandered their way forward and made quick work of the testicle cake.

           “Oh my,” Joseph said drolly. “I wish my macaroni salad would go as quickly.”

           The worshipers looked away from the Father. A cry of “Your macaroni sucks!” came from somewhere in the crowd.

           “Hey man, it's like, nature.” Sharky Boshaw, Hope County's resident firebug, said, spraying bull testicle everywhere as he did so. “You can't stop nature. Everyone wants to get some balls in their mouth.”

           “Young man,” Joseph preached, gesturing towards where his siblings stood. “Of course, you can go against nature. Why, look at my siblings.”

           Turning, Joseph only saw Jacob there, with a disassembled gun in his lap.

           “Where did John and Faith go?” Joseph asked his brother. Jacob grunted and motioned towards the table with his head. Turning, the Father came to the sight of his youngest brother and sister stuffing their face with testicles. Looking at his siblings voraciously eating the balls, Joseph could only come to agreement with the young man in front of him. “Nature is truly a frightening thing.”

           “Yeah, man. Anyways, happy B-day,” Sharky said, before digging in his pocket and tossing the Father a lighter. “That's a favorite of mine, real sentimental value.”

           The Father examined the bright blue plastic lighter. “It's a Zippo.”            “Good brand,” Sharky agreed with a nod.

           “It has a 99-cent sticker on it,” The Father argued, before spinning the striker. “And it's empty.”

           “Real sentimental value.”

           Joseph set down the lighter in the “trash” pile next to John's gift. “Thank you, my child.”

           “Oh yeah! Sharky kills it again!” The pyro pumped his fist. “Beat that, po-po!”

           Sighing, Deputy Rook rose to bring their gift to the so-called prophet.

           “Oh, the Lamb of God!” Joseph rose from his chair and held out his hand. “Wait, wait!”

           The Father grabbed the left shoulder of his suit coat with his right hand, and in one fluid movement, ripped off his whole suit top and dress shirt and threw it to the side, revealing his tattoos to the world. He looked over his glasses at Deputy Rook and held his arms towards them, motioning for them to 'come hither'. “Come, my child.”

           The Deputy's whole dumb eyeball mask rolled. They woodenly marched forward and reached into their jacket and dropped, into the Father's outstretched hands, a remote bomb. On it was a sticky note that read, ‘Not every problem can be solved with a bullet. This isn't a bullet.’

           Suddenly, everyone was pointing weapons at each other.

           “PUT THE GUN DOWN!” John was yelling at Sharky as he pushed his gun against his forehead.

           “YOU FUCKING PUT THE GUN DOWN!” Hurk yelled back as he pushed his rocket launcher against John's liver.

           “YOU AREN'T GOING TO FUCKING DO IT!” Faith shouted as she rapidly moved her shotgun between them.

           Deputy Rook, meanwhile, rolled the detonator between their palms.

           Joseph sighed and set the gift down in the trash pile. “Peace, children, peace.”

           “Joseph,” Jacob grunted. “You're sitting next to a bomb. Peace is a little out of the picture.”

           “Now, brother,” Joseph said placatingly, pulling out a silver stopwatch and checking the time. “Let's wait until we get the last gift.”

           “What last gift?” Jacob hissed at his brother, who turned his head skyward.

           “That.” A whistling was heard in the distance. Then, Joseph's church exploded in a shower of wood, sawdust and moonflowers. The kinetic energy from the blast sent everyone except Joseph, who was standing in just the right spot, hurtling to the ground, ears ringing.

           The Father walked up to the object jutting out from his now destroyed church, and lay his hand upon its cool, metal surface.

           Jacob was the first of those not blessed by (a dark) God to recover. He looked up at his brother to see him stroking an undetonated ICBM. On it was Cyrillic characters that he recognized; Russian. He only knew a brief smattering, so it took him a moment to translate what it said, but when he did, he could only mutter, “Crazy bastard.”

           On the missile it read, Happy Birthday, Joseph – God.

           Smiling, Joseph meet his older brother's eyes. “It is all as foreseen.”

           Then the world was covered in cleansing fire.

         Fin

[luminousinthedark]

Tomber Amoureux (To Fall in Love)

SURPRISE!! I was your Secret Santa @hari-writes!!! I have yet to read your stories but I will get there eventually (and when I do, get ready for a load of kudos and comments >:3). There is no doubt though you are a fantastic writer. Just by seeing the summaries on your stories, I feel excited to read them. I hope the fic I wrote for you is alright and you enjoyed reading it :D. Have a Miraculous Christmas!!  

@mlsecretsanta

This story can also be read on Ao3

Adrien Agreste was a successful man.

Just like his father shaped him to be, he was perfect, without any flaws, and very articulate with how the business at Gabriel fashions ran. Everyone who met him treated him exactly as they would his father, usually commenting on how he was almost like a spitting image with his hair jelled back and sporting a somewhat stoic demeanor. However, a couple differences were that his hair was a little longer and his eyes stood out as a vibrant green, showing a softer side to him. At the age of twenty three, he had no close friends and didn’t mind keeping it that way.

Everything in his life went smoothly and gracefully, just how he liked it.

That is until a certain someone literally crashed into his life.

“Oof!” Adrien’s breath was knocked out of him when a small body collided with his, causing them both to tumble onto the cold ground. He laid there dazed, looking up at the sunny, clear blue winter sky through his sunglasses.

“I am so sorry!” A sweet voice exclaimed next to him.

There was the scuffling sound of someone scrambling up, and before he knew it, his coat was being grabbed and he was hoisted to his feet.

Clearing his throat and wiping off the dirt on his black clothes, he replied curtly. “It’s fine.”

“I’m still very sorry! I was rushing because I’m going to be late to my first day of work and I didn’t see you there before it was too late and I hope you’re okay-,” the voice rambled on.

Adrien sighed and finally glanced up. “Look it’s not a problem…,” his firm words died out as he was struck by the beauty of the woman before him.

With dark hair that shone blue in the light of the sun cascading down her shoulders, pink lips pursed in worry, and eyebrows scrunched together, she was a site to behold. Her red pea coat was ruffled and slightly dirty while the black tights on one of her legs had been torn near the knee above red heeled ankle boots. The most stunning of all however were her cerulean blue eyes peering into his, concern swimming in the deep pools.

A weird sensation started swirling in his gut, one that was foreign to him.

Swallowing, Adrien tried to find his voice again but she beat him to it.

“Oh! You’ve got some dirt on your face,” the woman stepped close to him and reached up to swipe her thumb across his cheek. Pleasant tingles erupted where her skin touched his.

He was speechless. Where were these weird feelings coming from and why? He’s never felt this way before. Soon he could feel the telltale signs of an uncommon blush heating up his face.

“Monsieur, are you okay? You got really red all of a sudden,” she unwound an emerald green scarf from around her neck he hadn’t noticed before until now. “Here, for all the trouble I’ve caused you I’d like you to have one of my creations.” With that, she wrapped the warm scarf around his neck with care and stepped back to send him a sweet smile.

Now his heart was doing somersaults in his chest and it was getting harder to breathe. He could only manage to get out a whispered, “thank you,” before those blue eyes went wide with shock as she looked over his shoulder.

“Is that the time?! Son of a biscuit I’m late!” she darted around him and started sprinting down the sidewalk towards the building he just came from.

Delicately, he rubbed the soft material of the scarf between his fingers, a toothy smile peeking out between his lips. Then shaking his head, he willed the emotions away and continued on his journey to the café across the street to have his lunch. He was a gentleman first and foremost, so he was not going to let his thoughts and feelings overcome him just because a stranger showed him some love he was desperately deprived of.

A gorgeous woman like her probably already had someone anyway.   

 A few days later, Adrien was walking on his way to work past a photo shoot in the park when he heard his name being called. Turning around at the familiar voice, he smiled politely on reflex at his old photographer Vincent.

“Señor Adrien! How long it’s been!” Vincent shouted cheerfully, hastily making his way over to him.

Adrien chuckled. “It has been a while. How’s life?”

“Mi fa cagare!” The man swore in Italian as his hands flew up in the air. “Your father wanted pictures of the new young romance perfume but the main model Richard just called and cancelled!” He gestured to the completed set up behind him. “Everything is ready but no model! All the backup models are busy and I can’t get a hold of anyone to help!”

Adrien observed the frazzled photographer for another moment then resolutely gave in. Taking a deep breath full of possible regret and letting it out heavily, he put a calming hand on Vincent’s shoulder. “I’ll be your model.”

Vincent beamed with his grin positively radiant, along with something else. “Grazie Adrien! I am in your debt.”

Holding up a finger, Adrien gave him a stern look. “Only this one time though. I am not going back to modeling as a full time job again, so don’t try to convince me otherwise.”

“Bien sûr, of course.” Nodding his head in approval, Vincent turned around and immediately started shouting orders to the crew members.

Moving along after him, Adrien left Nathalie a voicemail of his whereabouts and plans then was soon swept up into the organized chaos. He didn’t pay much attention to anything around him; instead, he went with the motions of once more being a living doll. Before he knew it, he was dressed and all done up in makeup, sitting languidly on the freezing lip of an empty fountain. The white overcoat fit him nicely, paired with whitewashed blue jeans, black leather boots, and a grey beanie snuggled onto his normal hairstyle.

He poised how he remembered before he quit the modeling gig a few years back. It felt kind of awkward at first, but soon he was into the old rhythm again and completed each new shot with ease.

But apparently to his photographer, it wasn’t good enough.

With a humming noise of disapproval, Vincent gazed at the pictures in deep thought.

“This isn’t quite right,” he muttered under his breath and clicked his tongue.

“Am I doing anything wrong?” Adrien asked.

Vincent paused. “…no. It’s just…something is missing.” With a snap of his fingers, he bellowed, “Dupain-Cheng!”

There was a flurry of footsteps then Adrien’s heart skipped a beat when he recognized the mystery woman approaching them. All he could do was stare while she stood with assurance in her pink trench coat adorned with a blue scarf around her neck next to Vincent.

“What is it Monsieur?” she asked politely.

“You’re the newest intern are you not?” he inquired. After the nod of her head, he continued. “With your fresh eyes, tell me, what would you do to make this more romantic, more appealing?”

Adrien was puzzled. From what he knew of Vincent, he never asked someone for another opinion or tips, especially from a new intern. Father wouldn’t be pleased either if he found out.

While she studied the photos on the camera, Adrien caught Vincent’s eye and noticed a mischievous twinkle in them. He was instantly put on high alert.

“Well,” she began, “I would probably leave the main outfit be but I’d make a few changes in accessories.”

Vincent made a show of his hands towards Adrien. “Show me what you would do then Mademoiselle.”

Adrien narrowed his eyes and shot a glare at his photographer as she stepped up to him. The stern look was instantly wiped from him however when she pulled off his beanie and began ruffling his hair. The carefully coifed strands were now falling freely around his face while he gazed at her in awe. After she stepped back, he could still feel the tingling of her fingers in his hair and a shiver went up his spine.

Slowly, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

By just one slight change to his appearance that he had kept up for years, Adrien felt different. It was as though he was freed from something, making him feel extremely light.

Warmth bloomed and spread in his chest.

Clueless to her life changing actions, the intern unwound the blue scarf from her neck and wrapped it neatly around his. Staring at her intently and swallowing hard, Adrien was reminded of her kindness from a few days ago and desperately tried to squash down the rising emotions he has spent years repressing.

When she moved back from him and that sincere smile appeared on her face again, he saw his mother’s smile and instantly knew he was falling for this woman fast.

“How does that look Monsieur?” her question brought him out of his trance. Adrien blinked to clear his vision in time to see his fully smirking photographer.

“Si! Perfecto!” Vincent clapped, overjoyed with the scene. “Is there anything else?”

Adrien refused to meet her observing eyes and studied the ground instead. Why was he shy all of a sudden? He’s an Agreste! These emotions shouldn’t be slipping out of his control. Yet even so, he could tell a blush was forming on his cheeks from the sensation of heat prickling along his skin.

She hummed. “If you’re going for a romantic vibe, the next best way to capture it is to find someone to be in the shots with him.”

There was a brief period of silence.

“You are absolutely right,” Adrien could hear the satisfaction in Vincent’s voice. “Unfortunately, I don’t have anyone who could fill in at the moment. Would you be willing to do it?”

So that was his plan all along.

Sly, scheming photographers.

“M-me?!” She spluttered. He glanced up to see her eyes blown wide. “I’m not…this isn’t something I’m cut out for.”

“What do you mean?” Adrien interrupted, his shyness disappearing as he rose from the fountain to look down at her.  

Waving her hands around, she gave him a flustered look. “My job is to be behind the camera, not in front of it!” she squeaked.

“But can you do it differently this one time?” he pleaded.

“No!”

Adrien furrowed his brows in thought. Well, there is one of two ways he could influence her to help. By encouraging, or teasing.

He chose the latter.

A grin gradually began to appear on his face as he leaned in. “Aww…” he crooned. “Is someone camera shy?”  

Her cheeks went bright red. “I…I am not camera shy.”

“Prove it.”

A steely glint showed up in her eyes suddenly as she leaned in as well and poked him in the chest.

His heart stuttered in response.

“You know what? I will.” She stated with such confidence, his brain lost all ability to function. “Watch me, pretty boy.”

Vincent laughed joyfully behind them.

Adrien smiled in pure bliss at the camera pointed towards them.

If future photo shoots will be more like this, scratch what he said earlier and sign him up for the next one.

After the woman had agreed, she was briefly whisked away to change into Gabriel brand clothes and have her makeup done. When she emerged from the tent, she had successfully stolen the very breath from his lungs with the belted black wrap coat fit snugly to her body, a light pink cashmere scarf around her neck to match his, and white suede boots over dark blue skinny jeans. Makeup natural and light, she looked stunning.

Now here they were sitting next to each other, knees touching, on the edge of the fountain and Adrien couldn’t be happier.

Well, he could think of one reason how he could be happier but it probably wasn’t going to happen.

“Okay, now face one another and flirt,” Vincent ordered.

Adrien effortlessly composed himself into the suave persona everyone loved. Turning to her with a smirk now in place, he casually lifted up the hand in her lap to give her knuckles a whisper of a kiss. He was delighted to see a splash of red grow across her cheeks.

“I never did get your first name my Lady?” Adrien questioned as he set her hand down and gently grabbed the other to hold between them.

Suddenly appearing bold, she leaned towards him with a playful quirk on her lips, “That’s a secret Monsieur.”

His eyebrow rose. “I could easily find out…”

“If you do that, I won’t have any reason to trust you.”

“Very well,” he conceded. “I’ll wait for you to tell me yourself. In the meantime, I’ll give you cute nicknames, Buginette.”

“Really,” she deadpanned.

They were so caught up in each other, the sounds of Vincent’s camera clicking faded into the rest of the background noise.

It was just the two of them.

“Yeah,” Adrien continued, “When I first saw you a few days ago, you reminded me of a ladybug.”

She blinked, and then narrowed her eyes to scrutinize him. “Have we met before?”

He gave her a genuine smile. “Thanks for the green scarf. It’s quite comfy.”

Eyes widening in realization, her mouth popped open as well. “Oh my goodness that was you!”

Adrien started chuckling at her baffled expression.

“Cat man!”

He abruptly stopped and gave her a confused look. “Cat man..?”

“Yes!” she laughed in disbelief. “You had those sunglasses on that were Cat Eye styled.” Shaking her head, she gave him a wide, pearly white smile that did things to his poor heart. “I felt bad for knocking you over but after seeing those I didn’t feel as horrible.”

Adrien gasped in mock offense and put a hand on his chest. “Come on those are vintage! Don’t insult my Cat Eyes.”

“Alright Chaton don’t get your tail in a twist,” she said rolling her eyes fondly.

He spluttered. “I am not a kitten! I am a man!”

“Keep telling yourself that Minou.”

Pouting, Adrien muttered, “I’m supposed to give you nicknames...”

Reaching up, she tapped a finger to his nose, effectively causing his body to shut down. “Two can play at that game Chat.”

“Alright we have enough flirt!” Vincent cut in loudly, causing the two of them to jump and crash land back to reality. “These photos are magnifique!” His photographer gushed while he flipped through them.

“Does that mean we’re done?” The woman asked as she twisted her hands together.

“Nope!” Vincent got back into position in front of them. “Now it’s time for the kissing!”

Adrien’s insides gave a jolt then he watched her face go pale. “What?” she screeched.

Waving his hands in a shooing motion, Vincent replied impatiently, “We need smooching then we’re done!”

She seemed visibly uncomfortable with the notion so Adrien shoved his nerves and excitement aside and placed a hand on her shoulder to turn her and face him. “Hey, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he said soothingly.

Pursing her lips, she looked down for a moment then peered up at him through her lashes.

Was she trying to kill him?

“I…guess I can go through with it,” she said uncertainly.

Adrien brightened with glee. “That’s the spirit! And hey, at least you get to kiss this handsome face!” He pointed to himself.

Oh god why did he say that?

She giggled then pretended to search around him. “I don’t know…you might have gotten yourself mixed up with someone else.”

Gasping, he put both hands over his heart and feigned a look of pain. “OH! You killed my ego! Now only a true loves kiss could bring me back to life!” he wailed dramatically.

He watched with satisfaction as she laughed and shook her head. “You’re such a cheesy goofball! Okay, fine come here.”

They both leaned in and the silliness was quick to wash away. It felt to Adrien as though a gravitational pull was bringing the two of them together. With each millisecond that went by, Adrien’s heart beat faster in anticipation, threatening to break out of his chest. His eyes drifted shut, then the next thing he knew his lips landed on hers.

Soft.

That was the first thing to register in his mind. Then oh so tenderly, he began to move his lips, prompting her to do the same. Lifting a hand up, he cradled her jaw and angled it slightly to deepen the kiss. The warmth he felt in his chest grew and he relished in the feeling as he tasted her strawberry flavored lip gloss. He gave a nibble on her lower lip and she made a sound in the back of her throat, making him hum with delight.

All too soon they were pulling away, and he opened his eyes to see her reddened lips before peering into her blue irises. They were locked onto his, eagerly waiting for his next move. Once again, he began inching closer to those tantalizing lips…

“And that’s a wrap!” The annoying voice of his photographer shouted excitedly, breaking the magic surrounding them.

Adrien sighed in disappointment as she got up and straightened out her coat.

Vincent walked over to her and gave a pat on her shoulder. “You did great Chérie! A true natural!”

She looked down bashfully and gave out a quiet, “Merci,” then started walking away towards the changing rooms without glancing back.

Feeling the heavy dread of possibly never seeing the mystery woman again, Adrien shot up off the fountain ignoring Vincent’s praises and jogged towards her.

“Wait!” he called out.

She stopped and turned to look at him.

He came to a halt a few feet from her.

It was as though Adrien forgot the French language because he had so much he wanted to say and ask but he didn’t know where to start. He opened his mouth then realized it was snowing around them. For a moment, he watched as the small flakes gathered on her dark hair and black coat, making her appear like the ethereal beauty of the moon shining in the starry night sky.

He didn’t even know her name and he was completely smitten.

“Yes?” she asked, bringing him out of his stupor.    

Clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck in nervousness, he asked, “Will we meet again my Lady?”

She broke out that wonderful smile again and winked at him.

“We’ll see, Chaton.”

[thehiddenlawyer]

Stranger Than Kindness Chapter 37 The End

Enjoy on Ao3!

With a sigh, with an outward breath, with tears, I give you the last chapter of Stranger Than Kindness. 

I had to use this gif because it literally started with me watching The Reichenbach Fall and screaming about how Sherlock kissed her. Here’s the post.

Guessing the sex of the new baby had become a game between father and son, and they’d even gotten Mycroft and John to participate in the baby betting pool. Molly disapproved, of course she disapproved, but she knew that once the two had their minds set on something, there was no way she could talk them out of it.

The baby was due early February, and they already had three sonograms to determine the baby’s gender but this little one was stubborn, refusing to turn around no matter how much it was prodded by the technicians, no matter how much its father cajoled it to just turn around.

But the child refused, delighting Sherlock endlessly, especially when it kicked and responded as readily to his voice as Benedict had. “Just goes to show, the baby can clearly understand what we’re doing whenever we go to the doctors,” he’d laughed.

Finally, the fourth time, with Molly growling vague threats against Sherlock’s life if the baby didn’t turn around, they went in for a sonogram. Benedict was with them that day, looking slightly nervous as he looked around at all the equipment in the examination room. His parents quickly caught the worry on his face, and Sherlock sat patiently with him in his lap on the plastic chair, Belstaff wrapped around his son, lips pressed to Ben’s ear as he quietly explained the equipment, explained what was going to happen and how the technology worked to show them his unborn brother or sister.

Sherlock stood with Benedict in his arms by Molly’s side when the tech finally showed up, squirting the clear jelly on Molly’s belly that made her jump, no matter how many times the nurse told her it would be cold. Everyone in the room was holding their breath, Sherlock still murmuring quietly in Benedict’s ear, explaining the grainy black and white images that were blossoming and receding with the movement of the technician’s wand. Ben’s eyes widened when he heard the heartbeat, when he finally could make out the shape of a baby on the monitor.

Molly and Sherlock held their breath, laughing in relief when they realized the baby was finally facing them, Sherlock breathing a “Christ! A sister,” he told his son, kissing his temple, “you’re going to have a sister.”

“I knew it!” Ben said triumphantly.

Unlike Benedict, they didn’t want until the last minute to bicker over names, decided they would start the fight early on, disagreeing with every name that came into mind until an entire wall in Baker Street was covered with baby names, designated by names that were gender-neutral and names that were girls only, categorized by Sherlock as “old, older than time, ancient, boring, passable”. She had looked at the wall as she stood next to him, her hands on her hips as he’d rubbed his lips in thought, his simple wedding band glinting in the sunlight filtering in through the window.

“The passable category is empty,” she’d commented.

“That’s because we haven’t found a passable one,” he told her, rolling his eyes with impatience.

She rubbed a hand over her stomach as the baby kicked in response to her father, “we’re going to have to name her something, Sherlock.”

“Something Holmes, does have a ring to it!” he’d grinned cheekily but she walked away from him, exasperated.

Their daughter, much in keeping with her parents impossibly dramatic life and following in her brother’s footsteps, decided that she would not only take her time and arrive a full two weeks after she’d been predicted, but also arrived in the middle of the night. Sherlock had woken up to Molly pushing him awake, this time he was a little bit more composed, calling Mrs. Hudson repeatedly and tersely telling her to get to their flat five minutes ago. They’d kissed Benedict before Molly had waddled down to the waiting car as they pretended they weren’t chocked up about leaving Benedict, Mrs. Hudson agreeing to bring him to the hospital in the morning, if he was up to it.

Their daughter arrived with indignant screams and howls of protest only a few hours after Molly had gone into labor, weighing about the same as her brother, only slightly taller, and much angrier. She looked at her father with pale eyes, not bothering to hide her displeasure at being deprived of her mother’s warmth. He’d grinned at his daughter’s angry face as she lay against Molly’s breast, “I know little one,” he’d assured her softly, “but it does get substantially better, I promise you.”

He laid his cheek against Molly’s chest, watching his daughter find serenity as she fed, pressing kisses over her soft hands as Molly played with his hair. There was a special fluttering in his very soul at the sight of her, at the sight of his daughter. “God, her skin is as delicate as lace,” he murmured, touching her with the lightest fingertip, “she’s so beautiful Molly, and we made her.”

Molly had grinned a tired grin, handing their daughter to him after she’d finished nursing, loving the sure touch he now had as he took the precious bundle into his arms, sitting on the edge of Molly’s bed, his entire being concentrated on the purple bundle tucked against his chest. “She needs a name,” she murmured, stroking his bicep as she watched father and daughter stare at each other with inexplicable, mutual obsession.

He tilted his head, looking at his daughter from different angles, “all the names we’ve had picked out for her don’t seem to fit.”

“I still think Ishtar is a good one,” she grinned.

“Name her after an ancient war and sex goddess,” Sherlock laughed softly, “what a teenager she’d make.”

“Lacy,” she said suddenly, “Sherlock, what about Lacy?”

“Lacy Mary Holmes,” he murmured, “I like it.”

But they had agreed earlier that they would only sign the birth certificate if her older brother approved. Mrs. Hudson brought him in, the boy shy and slightly alarmed at seeing his mother in the hospital bed, looking so tired and forlorn in the hospital gown that engulfed her. His pale eyes instantly swam with tears, “oh darling,” she lifted her arms for her, “hush now, come here,” she urged him and he ran across the room, but Sherlock caught him around the waist, lifting him off the floor before he could jump on Molly’s body.

Sherlock held his son in one arm, his daughter nestled against his chest with the other arm, kissing his son’s cheek, “gently darling, gently,” he told him, “mummy’s tummy is still a bit delicate, okay?” then he set Benedict on the bed next to Molly, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead.

Benedict instantly pressed his cheek to Molly’s chest, nestling against her as he cried quietly, his lips trembling with emotion. Sherlock sat at his son’s feet, stroking his legs and his back as Molly held him, soothing him, “everything is alright,” she told him, “I know all this stuff looks scary, but it really isn’t. None of it is hooked up to me because I’m perfectly healthy, just a bit tired bringing your sister to you,” she kissed his forehead, “the doctors said I get to go home tomorrow, so it can’t be all that bad right?” she used her finger to lift his face to hers, “now then my sweet benediction, don’t you want to meet your sister?”

Sherlock smiled at his son, watched the boy’s eyes widen as he looked at his sister’s sleeping face. With a pang Sherlock remembered in snippets when he’d seen Eurus for the first time, cradled in his mother’s arms. He’d felt such love for her, such immense joy at her presence. He’d been so impatient for her to get there, his head filled with possibilities of a sister. He grinned at Benedict, at the way his son leaned over her curiously, “what color are her eyes?” he asked.

“They look exactly like yours and daddy’s,” Molly answered, running a reassuring hand over his back.

“She even has black hair like yours,” Sherlock murmured, “and ten perfect fingers and toes but she’s a bit louder. We’re thinking about calling her Lacy Mary. Lacy because she’s so perfect and pretty, Mary after your aunt Mary. What d’you think?”

“Lacy Mary,” he murmured, running his fingertip softly over his sisters clenched fist, “she’s so soft,” he looked up into his father’s eyes, “I like it!”

Nothing was hidden anymore.

Their love in the sunshine, their story in the air, the connection of their souls a palpable, tangible presence for all those who saw them together.

They had lived through more than any human should, had survived more than their share of heartbreak and trauma, had dragged each other through the deepest pits of hell, had seen each other at their worst. But somehow, the darkness never seemed to touch their lives now, somehow the dark memories of his drug use, of the way they’d torn each other’s hearts apart, the endless fights, his fake death, Janine, Tom, him getting shot, Magnussun, Culverton Smith, Sherrinford, Moriarty…none of it held them back.

They still had their moments, Sherlock still lost himself in cases, they still butted heads, whether it was about the way he still climbed over furniture, now with Benedict and Lacy following him, or the way he sometimes forgot to put away crime scene photos and one of the kids glimpsed them. Molly and Sherlock still had nightmares that had them reaching for their spouse in the middle of the night, breathless, terrified, needing to feel the other’s presence, the reassurance that all was well.

He wrestled with his demons on a periodic basis, when his visits to Eurus were too much or if he was dealing with a particularly difficult case. He had briefly lost his mind once and considered using drugs, imagining the needle piercing his skin when a London serial killer had started targeting children. But Lacy, four at the time, had found him, running towards him with a book in her hands and asked him to read it for her. The demons disappeared as Lacy had nestled in his lap, her cheek against chest, her black hair soft as she giggled into his chest.

But Sherlock couldn’t figure out whether it was the routine that protected him from complete madness, the routine of waking up every day and knowing he had a certain list of tasks he had to accomplish, all revolving around his family, or if it was the maturity of age that had him meet the rising bile of panic with serenity. It still haunted him, scared him out of his wits when he thought that his wife and his children could be used against him, still took paranoid precautionary measures to protect them, but he didn’t let it hold him back. His heart was open to his family and friends now, his smile more readily available for them, his laughter easier to come by.

It was shocking, nearly crippling him the easy way he looked at his children and told them he loved them, how natural it was for him now to walk into a room and press kisses to their foreheads, to reach for Molly whenever he needed her. It terrified him still that he had embraced such a blinding weakness so wholeheartedly, still heard Moriarty in the deepest pits and dungeons of his mind palace. But Benedict and Lacy’s laughter always forced Moriarty to be quiet, forced his demons to recede, to give up, to leave him be in peace.

 And Molly…his Molly.

He sometimes found himself in utter amazement at her quiet strength, at the steel in her eyes, at the resilience of her soul, her endless capacity to love that she had given to their children. He watched her during their work days, wearing her white lab coat, sifting through stomach contents without blinking an eye as she explained to him something vital about to the case they were working on, her hair often in a ponytail or braid, depending on the length, her tone always professional with him. Then during the evening, he watched her with their children, helping them with their homework, catching up on their day, scolding them when she needed to and always loving them, always ready with a kiss and a hug, with a kind, encouraging word.

And at night, when she stopped being Dr. Hooper or Professor Hooper, when she stopped being a mama to their Benedict and Lacy, when she turned into just Molly…simply his Molly in his arms…he imagined it was like going to heaven every night. Her smile never lost its charm, her sighs and moans always sinking into his marrow, her kisses pure ecstasy, her body his sanctuary, his obsession as he tracked every single change in her, finding himself falling more passionately in love with his wife with every single age line, with every single laugh line they gave each other.

He lost himself in her and she held tight. He sometimes found himself thrusting inside his Molly, his lips pressed against her throat as he panted, as she held him inside her, and remembered that night so long ago…when he’d told her he wasn’t okay, when he’d confessed his death to her and found in those brown eyes everything he’d been looking for. The friend he’d needed, the accomplice who would save his life, the strength he’d never known he’d lacked, the love that crippled him yet gave him superhuman strength. For as long as he lived, Sherlock would never forget the ferocity of her expression when he’d asked what she would do if he wasn’t the man either of them thought him to be, her simple reply of “what do you need” forever etched in him. He remembered how he’d sank himself in Molly’s warmth after they’d faked his death, on her couch in their old flat, how she’d dried his tears with the tip of her tongue, how she’d let him lose himself inside her body…And now…she was his wife. So much a part of him, of his day, of his life, of his everything, that he couldn’t tell where she ended, and he began.

Looking at Benedict and Lacy, Sherlock knew he was forever intertwined with Molly, that they were now one being, sharing everything.  

They woke up every morning as a unit, Sherlock the designated alarm clock when the kids started school, often uncovering their feet and wiggling their toes until they woke up. Most morning, Sherlock himself would be too sleepy to be a responsible parent, and he’d end up curling next to one of the children. One morning, after they’d moved into their new place in the outskirts of London, exhausted from the move and the case that he’d been chasing for the Yard, he got to Lacy’s freshly painted lavender colored room, slamming his foot into one of the boxes that were still stacked on her floor. His daughter, a heavy sleeper like him, didn’t even budge. He looked down at her, another walking, talking piece of him, with his eyes and lips, with her mother’s smile and chin, a temper all her own.

“I can’t,” he murmured, and slipped into bed next to his daughter. She immediately curled up around his arm, hugging his bicep tightly, and Sherlock only realized he’d fallen asleep when Benedict pushed him, his son’s eyes barely open, his hair standing up in odd clumps the way Sherlock’s always did.

“Move,” was all Ben croaked, and immediately fell asleep with his cheek pressed against Sherlock’s chest, the way he had since he was a baby, forgetting his teenaged protests of affection in the haze of sleep and infinite affection for his father.  

Eventually Molly had gone looking for them, finding the three in Lacy’s bed, fast asleep, the sight a familiar one. She’d almost let them sleep in that morning, but the kids had school and she knew Sherlock was still on that pesky case, so she woke them up.

Three pieces of her soul, all grumpy.

The four of them would have breakfast together, discussing their plans for the day, husband and wife swapping kisses to their children’s delight, touching each other in small, imperceptible ways. Then Sherlock would take the kids to school, all three of them kissing Molly good bye for the day as she headed to Bart’s, head of the department now, the most respected pathologist in all of England with students reaching out to her from the United States. He would drop the kids off, pressing kisses to each other cheeks before heading to Baker Street to see if he could find a few cases, John always by his side, Greg always a strong presence, Mycroft always looming.

The kids would often accompany him to Baker street after school, and he never let any client see them, and always ensured that they were either safely tucked away in his room or downstairs with Hudders, sneaking cookies he’d forbidden. They would end their day with Molly, eating dinner together as a family, talking about the most ridiculous things they could think of, moving as a unit to end their day.

One morning he stood outside their brand-new home, a cottage with four bedrooms that gave his growing son and daughter room to flourish, his hands in his trouser pockets as he tilted his head back, letting the sun warm his face. He could hear his children in the house behind him, heard his 14-year-old son laughing heartily, heard his 8-year-old return the laughter, her voice soft as she responded. Ben’s voice was lost in his movement in the kitchen, all Sherlock managed to hear was his saying “nope!” popping the P the way Sherlock always did.

He smiled when he felt familiar arms wrap around his waist, a familiar kiss pressed between his shoulders, “are you happy Sherlock Holmes?” his wife asked softly.

“More than happy,” he told her, tracing her wedding band on her finger.

The one that always mattered, that mattered most of all…

“Do you think require anything else?” she asked him.

“Nope,” he turned in her arms, “as long as I have you Molly Hooper, there’s nothing else that I will ever need.”

And in the end, love, emotions, attachments, relationships, kindness…none of them were stranger to Sherlock Holmes.

[the-tormented-writer]

Spell It Out

Lifting your cup of coffee to your lips you gazed out at the hustle and bustle of the city through the coffee shop windows. You look at the clock hoping against hope that you would not be spending you’re entire afternoon inside the small mom and pop restaurant. A figure approached the booth you were currently seated in. After he gave the approaching waitress a wink, the man placed a finger over his mouth motioning for her to leave you in peace. “Don’t mind me, Pam. I’m just on a date with someone who doesn’t exist” you spoke, keeping your eyes focused on the menu laying in front of you. It was all you could focus on to keep your tears from falling.

"Ok sweet heart, let me explain” Tony spoke low, removing his sunglasses. You lifted and eyebrow noticing his hap hazard appearance squeaking and sliding against the cheap booth fabric. You took another sip, watching him nervously shift side to side and occasionally looking at you. He had a gray jacket over his sweats. His hair was slightly damp with a sprinkle of curls peeking out from under the hood.

“Finally decided to show up?” You asked curtly, you folded your earlier discarded straw paper into an accordion flicking it to the side of your menu.

“What are you talking about? I was here- around… I mean around here.” He folded his hands in front of him, his leg bouncing under the table between you both.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“Tell me Y/n, what do you need exactly? Or want? Because I can’t keep doing this- what we are doing now. ”

You scoff. The nerve of this bastard. You had changed your profession, uprooted your home and done everything for him. “I have no idea myself but clearly there is no room in your life for me.” You swallow, as you exchange words it becomes more difficult to look at him.

“Nonsense y/n.” He smacks his lips reaching for your cup of coffee and guzzling down a mouthful, choking half way when he realized it was ice cold. You nonchalantly laugh and it has been so long since he has heard it. Maybe this could work. He returns the smile then clears his throat. Grumbling to himself and grabbing a napkin to dab a bit of coffee from his lips, he rests his hand on his right pocket trying to gather the courage to see this through. You began speaking before he could start, “I’ve waited hours Tony. HOURS.”

“I know and y/n trust me-” he put a hand up checking his phone. “ I’m doing my best here.”

If this-,“ you raised your arms making Tony observe your surroundings, "is your best. I’d hate to see your worst.” Your arms slapped the booth, gathering the attention of a couple patrons in the shop.

“I’ve thought a lot about what has been going on between us. I didn’t- don’t take our relationship lightly. What you said the other night…”

“You gonna finish that thought? so later you can’t claim I interrupted or cut you off?”

“Please hun, I’m tired of the arguing.”

“Well good that means you’ll be able to listen to me for once! And I swear if you as so much glance at your phone one more time -”

“Ok.” He clears the multiple texts of encouragement from the Rhodes and Natasha before shutting it off. “Done. Shoot.” He rests his arms on the table looking like a lost puppy.

You willed yourself to not be pulled in. You told yourself If you both could not agree to become public about your relationship there would be no future between you. You knew he had expressed concern about others coming after you but you wanted to cross that bridge when you came to it. Nothing could feel worse than the media pinning you as some skank Tony was fond of. “I was fine with the one night together Tony. I even went against my better judgement. Then came the many nights we spent… getting to know one another. Then the dating and secrecy was fun… For a while. But we’re adults here, is this actually going anywhere?”

“Of course it is! Please y/n, I care about you, more than I’ve cared about anyone in my entire life. Just stay for now and we can figure this out together.” You shook your head slowly, feeling his sights were set on your reaction. He scratched the Back of his hooded head letting out an exasperated sigh. “I love you Y/n! There, I said it. And I know you love me. Deep deep down- maybe you’re not feeling it now because you’re furious with me and I completely get it.”

“You know what Stark? I wish I could make you as happy as you make me.“

"Well I wish staying here, staying with me, was what you wanted. But obviously it’s not. You made that abundantly clear last night.”

“Alright then,” you sniffed, “There’s just one more thing to say.” You swallow the lump forming in your throat praying you had enough strength to pick yourself up and walk out of the diner with what dignity you had left.

“I agree.” Tony whispers. He looks around, blinking once, twice to clear his quickly blurring vision. He did not believe that this would get out of control so fast. He gripped his right pocket tightly as he motioned to stand, moving to your side of the booth. He pushed his hood back taking a big breath. Now was the worst time for him to have an anxiety attack, watching you unmoving from your seat.

“Y/n,”

“Tony…”

He shakes his hand free from his pocket clutching the the small object so firmly his hand was becoming numb. You frown looking up into his eyes, racking your brain what could he be handing you.

“Will…” he taps his foot, rolling his neck, “will you-”

“I’m pregnant ”,

“Marry me?.. wait. Wha- what did you say?!”

“Noo- you first.”

He drops down to his knees. A tear slipping from his eye is wiped away quickly, while you shuffle around in your purse and hand him the ultrasound picture from a mere days before. His body is feels like lead torn between joy and worry.

Tears are falling from your face, you clear your throat determined to keep your voice sounding strong. “I’m only a few weeks along-”

You are cut of by Tony who jutted out towards you. You have never seen him move so quickly, hugging you with such brute force in the small booth you feel as if your chest will explode.

“Tony, I-”

“Marry me. Please. This changes nothing, I want you.”

“Are you kidding me?! This changes everything!”

“Not the way I feel about you. You know this, you’ve always known. ”

“Listen-”

“I am.”

“No really listen because you look like you’re on cloud nine.”

“Babe I’m on all the clouds. You mean there’s a little iron man or maiden in there.”

“Oh. Yeah..” you push against Tony’s hold, reaching again into your bag. You place a second paper thin photo in front of him joining the first one. “Two. Two iron man- men.”

His mouth is agape when he finally looks at you. “I love you.” With his hands holding your head in place, he kisses you multiple times around your face. “You know,” Tony sat back looking between the two black and white blobs on the photos before him, “this day couldn’t get any better unless…”

You turn to him stretching your fingers out in amazement watching the ring sparkle in the light. “Yes. I- I want to marry you.”

Tony pulled you closer to him. He kisses you while you rest your hands on his face. “Oh god I can’t wait to get you home.”

“Just one more thing,” you reach across the table picking up Tony’s phone.

“Honey.. ”

“We need to talk without this.” You slam Tony’s phone multiple times on the table until shards of glass protrude from the screen. “Without interruptions.”

[louisweaterpaws]

Hiiii! Hope you had a great holiday and that you’re doing well ❤️ You don’t have to do this of course, but do you think you can post a tiny snippet of your chapter? It would be greatly appreciated. But you don’t have to of course! We love your fic so much, we’re so excited for your upcoming chapters 😩

thank you!! mfklvmdokmvkdmfvk ok here’s a tiny little excerpt 🙈 🙈  (subject to change a bit when i do some final editing):

_____________________________________________________________________An hour later, Louis sits slouched in the cramped backseat of Liam’s Porsche, his eyes unfocused, staring out the window while the bass of Hotline Bling hums through the speakers. Up front, Liam and Zayn sing along, pointing to each other as they alternate verses. They know every word by heart, using the center console as a drum. 

Louis tries not to roll his eyes at how sappy and perfect they are together, his loneliness turning him bitter. He isn’t used to being the third-wheel. He’s used to having an arm curled around his waist, a hand on his thigh, and lots of kisses and the occasional bad joke pressed to his hair. And it probably doesn’t help that he’s been feeling a bit clingier than usual lately. Stupid hormones. He’s embarrassed of his past self for thinking they were just a myth. 

He’s just about to return to glaring moodily out the window when his phone buzzes in his pocket with a text. And in an instant, his moodiness is swapped out with a smile, before he even checks to see who sent it. Harry always has good timing, even with a five-hour difference. 

‘Good morning, baby.’

It’s ridiculous how Louis still gets butterflies over this kind of stuff. He taps out a reply, his eyes crinkling.

‘hi Daddy’

He waits, watching as three little dots appear on the screen, indicating that Harry is typing something back. And then another text bubble appears,

‘How are you feeling? Still tired? I miss you.’

Louis smiles sadly. ‘miss you :(  feeling a little better today though. I’m on my way to some art festival with li and zayn.’

‘Well I’m happy you’re getting out of the house for a bit :),’ Harry sends back. ‘Just wish I could be there with you.’

Louis smiles, trying to imagine Harry’s long limbs in such a small space. ‘not sure there’s enough room for the both of us here in the back of liam’s porsche.’

‘There will be when I get you on my lap.’

Louis actually flushes. He misses it all so much. 

‘Daddy.’

‘Yes, baby?’

‘what are you doing?’

‘I’m at the hotel, haven’t gotten out of bed yet.’ 

Louis is about to say something else but stops when his phone pings again,

‘I woke up hard, if I’m honest.’

Louis rolls his eyes, grinning in spite of himself. ‘A spontaneous erection?’ 

Harry’s reply comes through seconds later, ‘Must have been a good dream, yeah? ;)’

Louis bites his lip, glancing up from his phone. In the front seat, Liam and Zayn are both staring straight ahead, their eyes on the road and their heads bobbing slightly with the music. And Louis quickly taps out another reply, feeling a bit mischievous.

‘can I see?’

It takes a few minutes to get a response, the screen idling out to black. Louis fidgets the whole time while he waits, knowing Harry is taking his time on purpose just to tease him. When his phone finally buzzes again, he eagerly opens up the text, and sure enough, he’s been sent a photo.

It’s of Harry, of course. Or at least, the lower half of Harry’s body, as if he rested the phone on his chest when he took it. He’s laid out on some luxury hotel bed, his long legs stretched out in front of him, slightly bent at the knees, the sheets kicked down by his feet. Louis can see the edge of butterfly wings, the laurels fanning out over his hips, the neat line of his pubic hair trailing down, and lots and lots of skin, interrupted only by a pair of white boxer-briefs. His dick is shaped-out against the material, the cotton pulled tight around it while the tip curves up and peeks out from his waistband, just enough to tease. Harry’s got a hand on the shaft, cupping himself loosely.

A pang of want rushes straight to Louis’s groin and he miserably shifts in his seat. 

‘Daddy :( ’

‘What is it, baby?’ Harry asks, and Louis can clearly picture him typing with one hand, touching his cock with the other, rubbing his thumb over the slit to get himself wet.

Louis chews on his lip, still staring longingly at the photo, at everything he’s been missing lately—that body he knows and adores so very much. His gaze keeps dropping guiltily to Harry’s cock, all nice and fattened-up in his briefs, and he’s torn between a sudden desire to crawl up between Harry’s legs and grind, or wrap his lips around the tip and – Jesus, how did he get this turned on already? He pouts a bit even though Harry isn’t around to see it, typing back.

‘want it so much :( :(’

‘I know, baby.’ Harry replies. ’I’m thinking about all the things I wanna do to you while I get myself off.’

And Louis really shouldn’t ask – he knows he shouldn’t. He should just leave the conversation at that, because the last thing he needs is to get hard right now in the backseat of Liam’s car with literally zero chance of relief. He can already feel the crotch of his jeans beginning to tighten up. The problem is, his impulse control isn’t exactly the best when it comes to Harry, and he’s curious. Hopelessly so. 

He glances up from his phone to check that the others don’t suspect and then thumbs out another reply, his curiosity getting the best of him once again. 

‘like what?’

He sets his phone face down, digging his fingernails into his thighs in attempts to keep himself still, but he can’t stop fidgeting. Somewhere in the world – on an entirely different continent even – Harry is wanking, and all Louis can do is sit quietly and wait for his reply. 

When another message pings through, Louis opens it with fumbling hands, swiping at the lock screen. He nearly drops his phone when he reads Harry’s text.

‘I wanna eat you out.’

Louis very nearly whimpers, watching those three dots appear once again as Harry keeps going, keeps typing, keeps teasing him. And when his text comes through, Louis can almost hear his voice, murmuring low into his ear.

‘Wanna spend hours between your legs, fuck you nice and slow with my tongue. Get my face all wet.’

Louis squirms in his seat, suddenly flooded with images of Harry wrapped up in his thighs, his eyes closed and his mouth wet and nuzzling in close, slowly lapping at him, groaning to himself as his tongue nudges in and out. Louis replies with a single emoji, the one that looks like it’s crying out in anguish, because that’s exactly how he feels right now.

‘Is that okay?’ Harry replies, ‘Would you let me?’

Louis rests his forehead against the cold glass of the window in attempts to cool himself down. His eyes drop closed and he can see it all happening – Harry’s head moving between his legs, one hand reaching up to push the hair out of his face, not wanting anything in the way when he gets his mouth on Louis. 

Louis fumbles blindly for his phone, typing back, ‘please.’

‘Are you sure?’ Harry replies. ‘I won’t be able to stop, baby. Want to keep you coming all over yourself.’ 

Louis slumps back against his seat, feeling way too hot. It’s amazing that the windows haven’t fogged up. He’s getting hard again. There’s just no stopping it—not now that Harry’s mentioned doing that to him. He knows how much Louis likes it. And all Louis can do is sit back and stare down at his lap, helpless, as yet another text comes through.

____________________________________________________________________

[katerbees]

A Sherlolly Halloween part 2

Pt 1 here: https://katerbees.tumblr.com/post/166457341430/sherlolly-halloween-pt-1

Pt 1.2 here:https://katerbees.tumblr.com/post/166511390155/sherlolly-halloween-part-12

This Halloween takes place in Season four after TST and before TLD. Ahhhh I can’t wait until these two get their lives together and get a nice Halloween

Halloween 1 year ago

Molly adjusted her wig. Damn thing was so itchy. She had decided to take Rosie over to see Mrs. Hudson and have some photos taken of the two of them dressed up. She hoped she would not run into Sherlock while she was there; he was in no state fit to be around a child. He had turned into a goddamned smackhead idiot since Mary had passed.  Molly had begged him to stop, had cried and cried, but of course all he said was “’It’s for a case,” and walked away from her.

You can’t help a person who doesn’t want to be helped, Molly thought, bouncing Rosie from one hip to the other. Molly spent most of her time these days at Bart’s, and John’s flat these days. While she had certainly meant the vows she had taken as a godmother, she hadn’t anticipated needing to fulfill them so intensely.  She had come to love Rosie with her whole heart. She knew she could never fill the void of Mary, but she knew she would always be there for the little girl, no matter what.

She exited the tube, feeling slightly ridiculous in her costume. However, many women stopped to tell her how cute she and her daughter looked in their coordinating costumes. Molly corrected the first couple of people of people, “Oh, thank you, she’s my Goddaughter” but quickly gave up and just accepted the compliments, while sending a silent prayer up to Mary to forgive her.  

She found her way to Baker Street and knocked on the black door. Mrs. Hudson answered.

“Oh Molly! Rosie! So good to see my girls!” She yelled, pulling them in to the flat. “Now I’m so sorry dear, but I have no idea quite exactly what you two are supposed to be.”

“Well,” Molly began excitedly, “I’m Elsa” she gestured to her long white braided wig like it was supposed to be a dead give-away, “and little miss Rosie is Anna.”

“And who are those people? You both look adorable. But I have no idea what that means.”’ Mrs. Hudson replied, taking Rosie from Molly’s arms.

“It’s from a Disney movie. Super popular right now.” Molly smiled. Sitting down her tote bag, full of diapers, milk, and toys.

Molly heard shouting from up above. “No…” she groaned. She thought to herself, but apparently the words had left her mouth without her noticing.

“Oh yes. He’s on about something again. Hasn’t eaten for days. I think he might be on those drugs again. I keep telling him, chasing Mary, God rest her soul, to the grave isn’t going to bring her back.” Mrs. Hudson instinctively tightened her hold on Rosie, who was now trying to play with Mrs. Hudson’s necklace. “No no my darling, here let’s find a nice stuffy for you to play with.” Mrs. Hudson moved towards a basket she kept filled with toys.

Molly worried her lip. She was so over Sherlock and his stupid bullshit. But she was his friend and she still worried about him. Especially since him and John were still on the outs. She sighed.

“I’m going to go up and check on him. Milk and diapers are in the bag.” Molly said.

“Oh thank you. I’d really appreciate that Molly, you know he is so fond of you. Even if he doesn’t show it. I can tell. Here, take this tray of biscuits and see if you can trick him into eating some.” She handed Molly a tray that had been sitting on the kitchen table. “Me and miss Rosie here will just be reading this nice book”

Molly took the tray and headed up the stairs. Her mind wandered back to Halloween last year. She had gotten dumped, and Sherlock had been making out with some poor girl that he was using to get to a psychopath. He really was an asshole. And here she was, one year later, once again in a costume, getting ready to have her dignity torn to shreds. She just knew it. He was in such a bad place mentally and physically right now. She braced herself for a verbal assault, and knocked on the door.

“I have told you twenty four times now Mrs. Hudson to leave me alone! My mind does not require nourishment. I am at a critical juncture in my planning and I require nothing from you.” A deep baritone voice responded.

“It’s not Mrs. Hudson” was all that she could think to say.

She was shocked when he opened the door.

“Molly.” His stormy blue-green eyes, swept over her. “And in a costume?” his eyebrow raised

“It’s Halloween Sherlock” Molly said, her voice sounding much more tired than she felt.

“Ah. Yes. I suppose it is.” He responded, opening the door wider. He looked like shit. She had seen him look worse. She was shocked he was speaking in coherent sentences.

“Sherlock. Are you..” she began

“Molly, a good rule when it comes to asking questions and making inferences is to not ask a question you don’t want the answer to.” He cut her off.

 “Are you high right now?” Molly continued.

He opened the door to his flat wider. “At this exact moment I am minimally under the influence. Please. Come in.”

Molly walked into his flat. Books were strewn everywhere. Photos and maps tacked to the wall. He was clearly in the middle of a case. Always with the damn cases. Always ruining himself and ruining other people. FOR THE DAMN CASES. She found herself growing angry.

She realized then that she was still holding the tray she had been sent in with.

“Biscuits?” she asked through he gritted teeth.

“Oh just save us the trouble and thrown them.”

“Excuse me?” Molly replied.

“You’re angry with me. The last time I was using you slapped me. Three times to be precise. So get it out of your system so we can move forward.” He countered, calmly.

“Why. Is. Everything. A goddamned game with you!?” Molly responded, her voice starting to rise.

“Oh I assure you that this is a matter of like and death.”

“Yes. Sherlock. Yours! If you keep on like this you will die!” Molly was yelling now, and felt the tears beginning to well up in her eyes. She slammed the tray down on the nearest table. “Don’t you care about that?”

“I do not believe this will kill me Molly. I am very careful with the amounts I take. This is for a case. A life will be saved.” Sherlock had walked towards her as he was speaking, now arm’s reach away. “Please. Just trust me.”

“Do you know how many bodies I have to cut into every week because somebody thought they knew they could handle it? People who OD? People who drive drunk? No one ever think it can happen to them.  But since you’re Sherlock fucking Holmes you won’t believe anyone other than yourself!” Molly was full blown screaming now. “And if you die from being a total idiot, because THAT is what you are acting like right now, what about John?”

“John hates me right now.” Sherlock cut her off, his voice becoming shaky.

“What about Mrs. Hudson?  And Me? And what about Rosie? Hmmm? Your Goddaughter is downstairs while you are up here in your glorified crackhouse. You took an oath Sherlock. I know you don’t believe in God, but I can’t believe that the oath you took that day doesn’t mean something to you. Do not let that little girl lose another person Sherlock!” Molly had closed the distance between them now and was shaking with anger as she looked up at Sherlock. His façade was cracking.

“Stop it!” he yelped “Please just stop it. He pressed his fingers to his temples, and breathed deeply, trying to keep the tears back. “Molly. Just believe me when I say this. Trust me. What I am doing is for John. It is for Rosie. It is for.” His voice caught in his throat and cracked “Mary.”

Molly found herself chest to chest with Sherlock. He was crying. Sherlock Holmes cried?

He continued. “Just please,” he pulled Molly close, “please keep looking after Rosie and Mrs. Hudson. I know I’ve been rubbish since Mary died. So has John. You’ve kept everyone together. Please. Just a little longer. Things can be like they used to be.”

Molly felt his hot, tears making the top of her head damp. She wrapped her arms around him. She had no idea what he was talking about. Seeing him like this scared her.

Molly stood there, rubbing his back awkwardly. She had imagined moments like this, but never envisioned them happening like this.  She wished she could tell him everything would be ok but she knew better. Things never just went ok for Sherlock Holmes.  Murderers followed him around, people killed their friends, and sociopaths even tried to get her involved in their schemes. Molly sighed.

“Can you at least tell me what’s going on? Please? Maybe I can help? I’ve helped before.” Molly offered.

“I don’t want to involve you. You have Rosie to look after.” He responded quietly.

“Me, Mrs. Hudson, and Harry all take turns. And I hate seeing you like this. Please. Let me help you.” Molly’s anger was starting to wane, replaced by a deep sadness for her friend who didn’t feel like he could share his burdens with anyone.

“I need you to meet me with an ambulance at a house in Brixton next week. John will be there. There won’t be anything dangerous. Just show up ready to do doctor things.”

“Sherlock? I’m a pathologist. John’s a doctor. Why would I need to be the one examining>”

“John will still be angry and he won’t trust anyone else. Not for what you will need to do.” Sherlock responded.

“What will I need to do?” Molly responded, peeling herself away from Sherlock, using every bit of self-restraint she possessed.

Sherlock refused to make eye contact with her.

“Sherlock?” Molly asked again, skepticism filling her voice.

“I will be very…altered. You will need to do my bloodwork.”

“Jesus Christ Sherlock. We just talked about this!” Molly felt the anger and the tears starting up again.

“I will be doing this with or without your help Molly.” Sherlock said, his voice slowly regaining the smooth composure it normally had.

Molly looked away. “Fine. But you should come down and see Rosie while you’re in your right mind. And Mrs. Hudson too. She’s worried to death about you.”

“Molly I..”he started to protest.

Molly held her hand up to silence him “No. You don’t get to keep making one sided deals with me. I’ve been your secret keeper before and I’ve never asked you for anything. You are going to march down there, you are going to apologize to Mrs. Hudson, you are going to play with Rosie and see how adorable she is dressed up for Halloween, and you are going to take our picture together because I want a damn picture of me and my Goddaughter and you will not complain about any of it.”

Sherlock stood there, realizing he had nothing to argue with. She was right. She had been a supportive friend and ally to him all these years. A constant source of stability and friendship.

“Right. Let’s go. By the way, what exactly are you supposed to be? That wig is damn itchy.”

Molly gave a small smile, it was all she could muster given the solemnity of their discussion.

“It’s from a Disney movie.” Molly responded quietly.

“I have no idea what that means.”

They went downstairs and had tea with Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock let her fuss over him like he hadn’t since Mary died. Sherlock played peekaboo with Rosie and snapped some photos of Molly and Rosie as Anna and Elsa. Mrs. Hudson insisted on taking one of the three of them. In the photo, Molly is holding Rosie, Sherlock has his arm around Molly. Sherlock covertly sent a copy to himself from Mrs. Hudson’s phone and looks at it all the time. He knows in two weeks, everything will change again. What he doesn’t know is: an east wind is coming.#