#but i like my art style too.... sigh... how complicated...

[seariii]

Gonna go pass out or something before the brain starts saying bs

.... But it's nice tho... The thumbnail, she looks pretty.... I'll scan the tag and spam like/reblog later heh

[superlarva]

"You've got a mustache."

Hey guys! Sorry, my art style is like the least consistent thing on this planet... I just like trying new things out :)

Anyways, continuing on our Rex parenting journey we have Chapter 4 - Pancakes and Apologies.

Prologue: 00 Previous chapter: 03 Next chapter: 05

Summary: Rex gets some news on Echo, pancakes are made, tantrums are thrown.

CW: Implied/referenced child abuse, talk about injuries from landmines (nothing too in depth)

Chapter 4 – Pancakes and Apologies

Rex sunk down into his couch with a sigh, leaning his head against the armrest. Fives had been tucked in and the hallway light was left on. One kid taken care of, one to go.

Rex pulled out his phone and opened a text from Cody: I have some more info. Call me when you’re ready.

The phone only rang once before it was picked up.

“Cody, is he okay?�� Rex tried to keep his voice down so he would not wake the boy sleeping in the next room.

“He’s…” Cody trailed off and Rex could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“What? He’s what?” Don’t say dead. Please, don’t say dead.

“He just got out of surgery. They had to amputate both legs and an arm,” Cody was trying to keep if voice calm and leveled, but the words came out a little choked. “I’m so sorry.”

Rex stared across the living room and into the kitchen, he’d know the boy’s injuries would be bad if he had landed himself in the ICU, but the loss of three limbs? That was too much.

Cody continued, “Echo’s okay for now. He hasn’t woken up yet, so there could still be some complications, but they are optimistic about how the surgery went.”

“Both legs and an arm?” Rex asked, still processing his brother’s statement.

“Yes,” Rex heard Cody take a deep breath on the other side of the line, “He stepped on a landmine.”

“Wh- How?”

“I don’t know. No one told the hospital how it happened either.”

Rex was silent, but his mind screamed.

Screamed in anger.

In sadness.

In pain.

In guilt.

It was his fault. His.

“Rex? You still there?” Cody’s voice cut through the phone.

“Yeah,” Rex said a little absently. “Yeah, I’m still here.”

“Alright,” Cody said, tone laced with worry. “You should get some rest. I’ll text you any developments, but don’t stay up for them.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to be able to sleep tonight?”

“I- I’m not sure.”

“Try, okay?”

“I will.”

“I love you, Rex’ika.”

“Love you too, Codes,” Rex dropped the phone from his ear as he disconnected the call.

He rolled onto his side and curled up on the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest and letting the world melt around him as tears spilled down his cheeks.

Rex woke, panicked from a dream he couldn’t remember and drenched in a cold sweat. From what he could tell it was early morning, the living room was washed in a dim warm light. He was not sure when he had fallen asleep, but he could not have gotten more than four hours.

He reached for his phone on the coffee table and found it, bringing the screen close to his bleary eyes. He had some texts from Cody from around 3 am:

Just found out Kix is Echo’s doctor!

He came into the waiting room to tell me that Echo seems to be responding well to the surgeries.

He’s sleeping now, but he woke up for a bit while I was in there and asked for Fives.

Kix said he thinks you guys should be able to visit today.

Rex felt a surge of relief, Echo was going to be okay. He was going to be alright. Not only that, but Rex had known Kix since he’d been in a group home with him and he knew the boy was in capable hands.

Rex swung his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up to type out a reply, thanking his brother profusely.

“M-mister police officer, sir?”

A small voice cut through Rex’s thoughts, and he jerked his head up. Fives stood stiffly on the other side of the coffee table. Rex was taken aback, when had the boy slipped into the room? At least the kid looked like he had slept well, “Yes? And Rex is fine.”

“Would you like me to make you breakfast?”

Rex was initially going to deny the request and insist that he make breakfast for Fives instead, but realized he could not assume Fives was only offering because it was something required of him previously. Perhaps the boy really enjoyed cooking. Rex wouldn’t know so instead he put down his phone and smiled, “Why don’t we make ourselves some breakfast together?”

Fives’s eyes widened a bit before he nodded consent.

Rex stood and stretched, “What should we have? I’ve got eggs, pancakes, oatmeal, cereal, or bread for toast.”

Fives seemed to debate something before looking up at Rex, “What are pancakes?”

“Pancakes?” Rex parroted, a little shocked.

Fives blushed and turned away, muttering a quiet apology.

“No, it’s okay, it’s good to ask questions,” Rex tried to amend quickly. He hurried over to his pantry and grabbed his box of pancake mix, showing the box to the boy, “This is what they look like. They’re really good and you get to put maple syrup on them.”

Fives whipped his head around to Rex at the mention of maple syrup, an excited grin plastered onto his face, “Maple syrup is from Canada.”

“Uh, yeah?” Rex said taken aback by the random fact.

Fives turned back to the pancake box, “Echo had a book about flags. Canada’s is a maple leaf because of all the maple trees there and maple syrup comes from the maple trees.”

“Do you and Echo like to read a lot?” Rex asked.

“Echo does,” Fives said, shoulder’s tensing. “He tried to teach me, but I’m no good.”

Rex didn’t like the boy’s defeated tone, “You know, I didn’t learn how to read until I was a little older than you.”

“Really?” Fives asked. “Because Echo learned when we were little.”

Rex wondered what “little” meant to the boy because in his eyes the twins were still very much just little boys. “Different people learn different things at different times, it’s not a contest.” Rex shrugged, taking the pancake mix from Fives, “Do pancakes sound yummy? They’re one of my favorites.”

Fives nodded, then shrugged, “But I don’t know how to make them.”

“That’s okay,” Rex said grinning. “I can teach you.”

Fives had been a surprisingly competent chef for a seven-year-old boy. He knew how to measure ingredients and pour things without spilling, and, once Rex had helped him up onto the counter, had proved that he could work a stovetop. Rex made sure the boy was aware he was not to be climbing on things or using the stove without permission first.

Rex watched as Fives took his first bite of pancake. The boy chewed slowly and then grinned up at Rex.

“Good?” Rex asked, taking his first bite as well.

Fives nodded enthusiastically and began shoving the rest of the plate into his mouth as fast as he could. He was finished before Rex had swallowed his third bite.

Rex pushed the glass of milk he’d poured the boy closer to him, “milk first, and then you can have more.”

Fives eyed the glass suspiciously before carefully taking it in both hands and downing it, seemingly without stopping for breath. When he put the glass down, he had a little milk mustache. Rex couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“What?” Fives asked, looking down at his plate, searching for whatever was so funny.

“You-” Rex broke out into another chuckle, “You’ve got a mustache.”

“No, I don’t,” Fives said, folding his arms.

“Yes, you do. Go look in the mirror.”

Fives gave Rex a confused look before heading off to the bathroom.

Rex shook his head and finished up his breakfast, smiling to himself.

Fives emerged from the bathroom a minute later with a clean, smiling face.

“It was from the milk,” the boy explained, as if Rex didn’t already know.

Rex nodded as Fives joined him in the kitchen, “Do you want some more pancakes?”

Fives shook his head as he sat back down in his chair, then he looked up a Rex, “Could we bring them for Echo?”

Rex shook his head, giving himself a few seconds to figure out the best way to explain to Fives, “Right now Echo’s in the ICU. Do you know what the ICU is?”

“Like the hospital?”

“Yeah, it’s a part of the hospital where they put the people who need a little extra help to get better. It stands for intensive care unit.”

“Is he going to die?” Fives had clearly picked up on the fact that someone already in the hospital needing extra help was bad. His voice was so small.

“We think he got through the worst part. He woke up last night and asked for you, which is a really good sign, but we can’t bring him anything from outside the hospital because he had to have some really big surgeries and we don’t want him to get infected.”

“Oh,” Fives’s eyes darted back and forth before they made their way back to Rex’s. “Can- can we still-? Are we allowed to see him?”

Rex nodded, “We can head on over after we get dressed and brush our teeth.”

Fives jumped up out of his chair in excitement and made a beeline for Rex’s bedroom. Rex marveled in the boy’s ability to switch his emotions so quickly, and his inability to hide any of them.

As Fives got dressed, Rex washed all the dishes as quickly as he could so he wouldn’t have to keep the boy waiting for long. Not surprisingly, Fives finished getting ready before Rex put the last dish on the drying rack. The boy bounded into the kitchen, bouncing on his toes and grinning.

Rex couldn’t help but match his grin, “Alright, get your shoes and coat on while I get dressed.”

Fives nodded and hopped over to the entry way where his tiny set of shoes sat next to Rex’s boots.

Rex threw on his clothes and swished some mouthwash around in his mouth (brushing took too long) before joining Fives in the entry way. The boy was practically exploding with energy and Rex had to tell him multiple times that his shoes were on the wrong feet before he stopped jumping up and down and sat so Rex could fix them.

As soon as they got onto the road Fives asked how long it would take to get to Echo, and not wanting the entire 45 minute car ride to consist of 45 ��are we there yet?”s, Rex made Fives his navigator. He knew the way to Kamino General well enough that he would tell Fives to remind him to turn right when they got to the next intersection or get off the highway when he saw a green sign with the number 79 on it. It kept the boy surprisingly occupied as he seemed to take his role very seriously.

As they neared the hospital and sat waiting in city traffic, Rex glanced at Fives in the mirror, “Fives, there’s something I need to tell you about Echo before we see him.”

Fives twisted forward to look at Rex from his position analyzing the city outside his window.

“He got really hurt and he- his-” Rex started to explain, struggling to find the right words.

“His legs were gone,” Fives interrupted, eyes wide.

Rex stared at the boy in his mirror, “You saw?”

Fives nodded, “Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” Rex didn’t know what else to say.

Fives shrugged, “Green light.”

“Huh?” Rex gaped before he realized what Fives was referring to as the car behind him honked, “Shi-oot!”

Rex slammed on the gas and turned into the hospital’s visitor parking lot, “Sorry about that.”

“S’okay,” Fives mumbled. Then his head shot up with excitement, “Are we here?”

“Yep,” Rex said, pulling into a spot.

Before Rex came to a complete stop, Fives unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door, ready to leap out. Rex stomped on the breaks and lunged back to grab the boy’s wrist, lest he fall out of the car, “Fives!”

The boy yelped as Rex dragged him back away from the door.

“No!” Rex yanked the boy towards his face, “No. You do not get out of the car until it’s stopped moving! Do you understand?”

“I’m s-sorry,” Fives stared at Rex, face going pale.

“Do you understand?”

Fives tried to yank his arm away, but Rex had him in an iron grip.

“Do. You. Understand?”

Fives’s tiny fist came up from where it was clenched at his side and struck Rex on the cheek. Rex was so surprised he almost let go of the boy as Fives began screaming “sorry” repeatedly, flailed his captive wrist around, trying to bash Rex’s hand down into the console, and used his free hand to hit Rex’s arm with as much force as he was capable of.

Rex caught Fives’s other arm to prevent any further damage to either of them and held him still while he struggled. Even though Fives’s eyes were screwed shut, Rex tried to soften his expression from the angry one he was sure it held a few moments earlier to one as neutral as possible.

Eventually Fives’s struggles grew weaker, and his apologies died down to a faint whisper. Rex realized the boy was crying, tears leaking out the corners of his shut lids.

“Fives?” Rex said softly, loosening his grip on the boy so if he wanted to remove his arms he could.

Fives opened his eyes and tears gushed down his cheeks, “’m ssssorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not mad, see?” Rex held up his hands.

Fives stared up at Rex with big watery eyes before slowly reaching out one of his own hands and placing it against Rex’s opposing palm.

Rex curled down his fingers so his hand enveloped Fives’s, “Are you okay?”

In response Fives pulled his and Rex’s hand towards his chest.

“Hug?” Rex asked, remembering last night.

“Please?”

“Alright, come here,” Rex said, hoisting the boy up over the console and into his lap.

Fives held Rex’s hand to his chest as Rex held him to his and they sat just breathing in silence together until Fives shifted to look up at Rex, “Are- are you very mad at me?”

Rex squeezed Fives a little tighter and smiled sadly, “I’m not very mad at you.”

They sat together for a few more moments and this time it was Rex who broke the silence, “Can I explain why I got upset?”

Rex felt Fives nod against his chest.

“Cars can be very dangerous if we aren’t careful in them or around them,” He felt Fives nod in understanding and continued, “One of the rules when you’re in the car is that you always keep your seatbelt on and you never open the door unless we are parked in a driveway or in a parking lot, does that make sense?”

Again, Rex felt Fives nod against him.

He continued, “When you opened the door, I was scared that you might get hurt, so I got upset. But I was more upset that you might get hurt than I was upset at you.” Rex rubbed Fives’s arm, “I’m sorry for yelling at you and for grabbing you.”

“I’m sorry, too. For- for breaking the rules.”

“It’s alright. You were excited, I get it. But next time we don’t jump out of moving cars.”

Fives nodded, sniffling.

Rex grabbed a tissue and handed it to the boy, “Ready to go see Echo?”

Fives smiled, blowing into the tissue, “Ready.”

@marierg @stressed-cherry @ffdemon @renton6echo @bambambunny @tearfulsolace @rndmpeep @brokenphoenix99 @xylionet @tazmbc1

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

I was supposed to quickly get the laundry sorted and then possibly take a nap before getting down to arts and watching stuff

However I’m now overwhelmed realising how many essentials I keep putting off buying and obviously I can’t buy them all at once in one month but I do need to buy some and like

*hyperventilates*

Like I have to buy new boots and trainers because the last boots I have are absolute trash, and my trainers are old now

I also need to buy new bedding because my mattress is too big for almost all the different bedsheets I have

Pyjamas because they’re all either ripped or don’t fit

And more modest clothing/new clothing because I’ve decided I don’t particularly like my style of wearing trousers and shirts, I used to but I think I’d prefer less fitted things, and because a lot of clothes I have gotten in the past few years are just wearing out

And of course it’s not always practical to just wear dresses in winter for modest clothing they’re a bit too long and get messy

*takes a deep breath* why is this complicated? Well I have to go shopping with mum on Monday to get things

I need to figure out what to prioritise for this month.

Secondly, because I’ve seen now how different clothes from different shops wear down, I need to be much more cautious and thoughtful about where I’m buying from. As cute as River Island might look, after 3 washes those clothes will look old and worn

Thirdly. Limiting what I buy so I maximise its use

So anyway I’ve browsed for about 2 hours today, 1 hour this morning and 1 hour now

Found 3 nice blouses + 2 possible sweater vests

And 3 sets of bedsheets

The problem is clothing, very good solid clothing costs an arm and a foot and though I wanted to do all my shopping in Saudi obviously they did not have much Western/winter oriented clothing as we do here

And just the blouses + vests cost about…. £200 altogether

*sighs deeply* okay so…

Mum’s buying my footwear Alhamdulilah I don’t need to worry about that

Since the clothing items are new in stock I think I can put off buying them for another month or two Insha’Allah

More dire clothing I may need currently I can buy asap

Like pyjama sets, maybe I’ll give myself a pass and just buy the cheap stuff from Primark

I feel like half the reason my sleep is so uncomfortable is because my pyjamas are rarely comfortable

[jillsandwhichs]

Cleon Oneshots/AUs Collection , Chap 12 , Zoo Fun

Masterlist

Pairing: Claire Redfield & Leon Kennedy

Summary: Claire and Leon go on a date to the Zoo together

Status of their relationship in this one shot: Married

WC: 4.1k

Type: SFW

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Art Creds: Sweeting

It's so lively!" Claire chuckled, looking around the entrance of the Zoo. "Tell me about it." Leon scoffed. He most definitely doesn't prefer being in crowds of people. Claire grabbed ahold of his strong arm, pecking it quickly, "Oh don't be such a grump, it'll be fun." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. He couldn't help but feel his face flush, she really knew what buttons to push.

"You're a princess." Leon teased her, kissing her head. He was out of his comfort zone today. Not only socially, but style too. He's wearing a polo shirt with some jean shorts, that's not his usual attire. Claire is wearing a cute red & white striped top with jean shorts as well, Leon can't help but admire how beautiful she looks. Anytime though, she looks absolutely gorgeous. Leon is constantly finding himself obsessing over her and how she looks.

Walking up to the stand, Leon pulled out his wallet. "Paying to see depressed animals, great." He sighed, handing the money to the worker. The worker rolled her eyes a bit, clearly not liking Leon's snarky remark. Claire slapped his shoulder, letting go of his arm, "Seriously? Be anymore of an ass?" Claire groaned, folding her arms. "Sorry babygirl, I don't think Zoo's are all that." "You aren't even excited to see the wolves?" "Maybe." He smirked, reaching his hand out for her. Claire gave in, of course, sliding her hand against his and holding it.

"Want me to go ahead and grab us a pamphlet?" Claire asked Leon, pointing to the stack of them by some of the souvenir shops. Leon nodded, letting go of her hand slowly before watching her skip off to them. He sighed softly, he wasn't in the best mood. Leon would do anything to appease his wife, hence why he's here, but lately, life has been so rough on him. He especially has a difficult time opening up to Claire but he's trying. Truly, all he wants is to see her smile and be happy, therefore he'll endure his own personal issues.

From where he was standing, he could see a few different enclosures. One has owl's and the other had sloth's, they looked cute. Leon felt bad for them though. Imagine being trapped in a large cage that you'll never be able to leave from. Knowing it's for the greater good though, he tries not to sweat it to much. But if he was an animal, he'd personally despise the situation so much.

Claire ambled back over to Leon, a folded pamphlet in her skinny hand. "Alrighty handsome." She murmured, opening up the complicated folded piece of paper. Leon couldn't help but admire her efforts. "You got it hun?" He said with a teasing tone. Claire scoffed, "I do." She undid the entire thing, shaking it a couple times to straighten it out neatly. "From where we are, the closest would be the llama's and the turtles." Claire said softly, scanning the pamphlet.

"Let's go then." Leon sighed softly, walking alongside Claire as they made their way to the llama's. Llama's are cute, but Leon doesn't want to be spat on. "What's the difference between Llama's and Alpaca's?" "Honey, don't be dense." Claire stated, squeezing his hand playfully as they made their way up to the wooden fenced area. There were only six Llama's, but they were so cute. Claire admired them briefly. "So adorable." Claire giggled, pointing at the cutest one. It was white with a brown spot near the top of it's head. "Just like you." Leon chuckled, gazing down at her.

"Hey, that one looks like you." Leon pointed at the derpy one, causing Claire to scoff. "That was is cute too, so hah." She pinched his arm roughly. They definitely had a way with words together. Claire pulled out her phone and snapped a couple photos of the Llama's, making sure to get each one in each picture. "You plan on developing those?" "Maybe... Depends..." Claire quietly spoke, taking a couple more photos. "Depends on what?" "Well, if they look nice or not or if I end up finding a reason to even print them out." She explained, Leon just nodded in reply.

"Let's go to the Turtle's, shall we?" Claire talked softly, turning the both of them around and immediately spotting where the turtle's were. From where they were strolling, Leon could see the sign that explains what kind of animal they are and some information about them. They were tortoises, not turtle's. Totally different. "Babygirl...?" Leon chuckled out, taking her hand and placing it on the plaque. Claire gandered down and read it before rolling her eyes. "Same thing." "Clearly not." Leon cackled.

"They're so slow." Claire snickered, her head in her hands as she leaned against the railing. "I would hate to be a tortoise." Leon rubbed Claire's back as they looked at the animals. "At the same time, they're cute! Tortoises are old men if they were animals." Claire stated. Leon couldn't help but snicker at her statement, "Is that so?" He chuckled, watching as she moved away and pulled her phone out again. She snapped only one photo this time. "My love?" Leon asked. "Yes babe?" Claire replied. "I love you." He whispered, looking at her intently.

Claire put her phone away, giving him a gentle look before cupping his cheeks in her petite hands, "I love you baby." She whispered, kissing his cheeks all over before letting go of his handsome face. Leon felt his cheeks go pink, why did she have to do that in front of so many people? "Hate when you do that..." Leon grumbled but Claire simply snorted.

"Just over there are the owl's and sloth's, wanna go look?" Claire questioned her husband, wrapping her arm around his. "Yes baby." Leon responded, striding beside her. "Knock knock." "Whose there?" "Who." "Who who?" "Are you an owl?" Claire asked him, biting her lip as she giggled. It took Leon a moment to understand the joke but, he got. "Oh ha ha." Leon chuckled, "You're so cute." "Cute stuff." Claire repeated.

Along the branches, there were many owls. They really seemed to like the dark, they stuck to the shaded areas only. It reminded Claire of Leon, if he was an animal, he'd either be an owl or a wolf. "They look so... Elegant? I guess I don't know how to explain it." Claire said calmly. "No, I get what you're saying sweetheart, they're very magnificent creatures." Leon agreed, his hand resting on her back. Claire was glad he understood, he always does.

She snapped a couple photos, scrolling through them to make sure they were of good quality. "They look great." Leon praised her photography skills. "Thanks... I'd love to buy a camera soon." Claire said softly, her head resting against his bulk shoulder. "I'll buy you one soon." Leon assured her. "Really?" Claire gave him a loving smile, looking up at him. "Anything to appease you babygirl." Leon whispered, pecking the point of her nose. "I'd love that, thank you." Claire murmured.

Claire looked behind her, seeing the adorable sloths hanging from their branches, some of them even sleeping. Now if Claire was an animal, she'd most definitely want to be a sloth, she'd be able to be lazy in the warm sun all day long. It'd be great. "Look how cute!" Claire smiled, pointing at one specific sloth. The sloth was hanging by it's arms and legs, not showing a care in the world. Leon let out a soft chuckle, watching Claire be mesmerized by a silly animal.

"I was a koala for Halloween back in College." Claire giggled, "I know it's not relevant considering this is a sloth but they're sort of similar." She explained. "A sexy koala?" "Yes... My friends were a Grizzly Bear and a Polar Bear." Claire sighed softly, not enjoying the thought of her College years. "Wish I would've known you then." Leon smirked. "Yeah, no you don't." Claire patted his arm as they began to walk further along the pathway of the Zoo.

"Oh baby, the wolves are just up here!" She exclaimed, sliding the pamphlet back into her pocket. Leon nodded, seeing a few of them walking around the enclosure. It was an all black one with vivid gray spots all over it's neck area. It was gorgeous. Very magnificent. "That one is pretty." Leon pointed at it. "I know, right? Gosh, I wish dogs looked like that." "Well, some do, but they are hard to find, I presume." "Sadly." Claire mumbled, taking a photo of the beautiful wolf, it looked so stoic. "If you print the images out, give me that one." Leon said with a husk tone. "Of course." Claire responded.

"Let's steal one." Claire joked, tugging on the bottom of his shirt. "Ok baby, you distract them and I'll grab it." Leon teased, squeezing her slim hip. "We should get a dog though, sooner or later." "I agree honey, it just takes a lot of responsibility and with our jobs, I don't know if it'll work out." Leon whispered to her, caressing her side. Claire nodded sadly, her spirits going low. "A cat would be easier, y'know... They'd be able to go pee and poop inside, we could fill their food and water up extremely, ect." Leon added. Claire gave a slight smile but she was much more of a dog person.

"I guess you're right." Claire heaved softly, looking around the area to see other animals. From where she was, she seen Lions, it immediately made her light up. "Oh, baby, look!" Claire snatched his hand up and was in complete awe by the lion's. Leon chuckled, seeing one of the male lion's rested up on top of a large rock.

The two of them headed up towards the enclosure. There were four different lion's on the inside, two female and two male. Each one of them were stunning. Lion's are the representation of the Leo sign, which is Claire's astrology sign, she feels a personal connection with these animal's. "So pretty." Claire admired all of them. "Once again, just like you." Leon flirted with his wife, his veiny hand ruffling her hair. Claire slightly blushed, biting her lower lip at his sweet words.

"Can't wait til we go home, I wanna take a shower with you." Leon whispered to her, moving his hand away from her soft hair. Claire snorted and leaned up, placing both of her hands on his chest, "Oh really now?" Claire giggled, her smile turning into a grin. "Mhm, how could I not? You look gorgeous today." Leon whispered once again, kissing the top of her head. "If you'd like, we can take a break from the animals and order some food, they have some shops." "Anything you want babygirl, I just want you pleased." Leon mumbled to her, both of his hands on her lower back.

Oddly enough, despite Leon not really wanting to go on this trip, he still did and it wasn't even for himself yet he's beginning to feel better. Seeing Claire all happy and okay cures his personal sadness. He's just been dealing with some shit at work, the only times he's truly ever happy is if he's with Claire, like right now. She's the light of his life. There is no other for him. Their love is truly irrevocable. He just wishes that life without her could also be just as easy as when he's with her. Depending on someone for something as simple as happiness isn't Leon's style.

Leon would open up to Claire more, talk to her about how he feels but he just has such a difficult time doing so. It's not just with her, it's with everybody. He's thought about therapy but he also views it as a waste of money when he can just talk about it with someone for free or bottle it up. It's the little moments like these that help him forget and help him realize how good his life truly is, despite all the bullshit that goes down.

"I'm feeling just some classic American food, like a sloppy cheeseburger or a good hotdog." Claire snickered, holding Leon's hand as they made their way back to the entrance area of the Zoo. "You're easy to please, my love. I remember when you told me your favorite food was a cheeseburger, can't lie, I was surprised." Leon chuckled. "Oh, how come?" "Because I've just never met somebody with common taste." "I see, well, you just can't go wrong with one. But hey, my pallette is quite exotic!" "Oh, I know." Leon replied.

As they re-entered the main area, they spotted the food stands. The one that caught Claire's eye had an icon of a burger on it, immediately causing her mouth to water. "Oh yeah, let's go." Claire laughed, the both of them scurrying over to the food stand. On the side of it, there was a menu. There was all sorts of food, Claire was in heaven. "What are you going to get honey?" He asked as he pulled out his black leather wallet. "The cheeseburger and fries, you?" "Chicken tenders with mac and cheese." He responded, pulling out 35$.

The worker of the stand had a elderly manly smile as he noticed the money Leon had grabbed out, business must be slow. "Just the cheeseburger with fries combo and the chicken tenders with mac and cheese combo." Leon spoke with a friendly tone. The man nodded, placing the cash in the register. Leon and Claire took a seat down at the picnic table, adjusting themselves til they were comfortable.

"After we eat, I just wanna check out a few more enclosures, okay? I really wanna see some bears and tigers." "Sounds good with me babe." Leon stated, interlocking his hands together. The sun was beaming down on both of them, their bodies heating up. They also didn't bring sun screen nor put it on before coming here, yeah, they'd have one helluva time with being sunburnt.

"It's so hot out." Claire whined, resting her head on the table. Leon reached one of his hands out and stroked her hair to the side. "I know babygirl, but at least the breeze feels nice." He comforted her, loving the feeling of her soft and brushed hair. "We should buy a pool." Claire snickered, waiting for Leon's response. "Yeah we do, maybe I'll buy us one soon." Leon assured her, "You're just so needy, huh baby?" He whispered. "Mhm." Claire mumbled out. She was definitely a needy one, but she was easy to please.

Claire relished in the feeling of Leon playing with her hair. It awakened such a comforting feeling in her. She felt safe with him, especially whenever he was touching her in any capacity. Whether it be his hands on her back, her face or her waist, she feels good. She's grateful he's not one of those men who is afraid to be touchy with her, because if he was, she doesn't know if she'd still be with him. But he willingly shows off his obsession with her. Claire is beyond in love with Leon and it shows.

"Mmm, I love you." Claire groaned out. "Love you honey." Leon replied, moving his hand away from her hair as their food was ready. The worker waved them. "One second." Leon grunted as he stood up. He walked over to the stand, taking both of the styrofoam containers in hand. Both smelt great which was awfully surprising considering it's from a food stand. He turnt around to Claire, setting her food in front of her, an enlightened look appearing on her face. She was definitely going to devour that cheeseburger.

Claire popped the top off of the container, the smell of her food infusing into her nostrils. Oh, it smelt great. She immediately grabbed a frie, taking a bite of it and moaning. Leon couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. "Gotta feed my baby before she gets hangry." He teased, sitting across from her. "I have always been a foodie." She responded, taking the top bun off of her burger and placing some fries in it. "You're the first person I've ever seen do that." "Really? It's such a common thing to do."

She took a giant bite from the burger, reveling in the classic taste of it. It made her mouth water and her stomach full, she was so happy to finally get some food into her system. As for Leon, he just ate normally, taking casual bites of his tenders and swifts noms of his mac & cheese, pretty good. "This cheeseburger is so good, better than the ones we had at that restaurant last week!" Claire expressed, taking a mini bite now. "Better be, I paid 15$ for it." He joked, stealing one of her fries.

"Hey, now you gotta give me a bite of your mac and cheese!" Claire put on a playful stern face. Leon snickered, dipping his fork into the creamy noodles and scooping some up for her. Claire quickly snatched a bite, making a high pitched humming noise in reply, "Yum." She mumbled, eating some more of her french fries.

They sat in silence, keeping to themselves as they ate. Claire was... Well... Clearly, enjoying her food. Her cheeseburger was already practically gone, she must've really been hungry. Leon plans on not eating it all and instead bringing it home for later, he's not all to hungry. He can't tell if it's cause he's truly just not ready to eat or if it's his mind not wanting him to. At this point, he often has to force himself to eat, it's rough. Whenever Claire cooks dinner, of course he eats it but most of the time, he's full, or feels full. But for her, he'll do literally anything.

"Damn baby, you can really eat." Leon laughed, admiring her persistence. "Yeah! I was starving hun." Claire giggled, gobbling up her french fries. "You're so adorable." Leon added, taking a couple more bites of his mac and cheese before containing it back up to save for home. "Are you not hungry baby?" Claire had a worrisome tone. "Nah, I'll eat later babygirl but don't rush, continue to eat and if you're still hungry, you can have my food." "Psh, don't worry, I'm already getting full, just let me eat a few more fries." She stated with a glimmer.

As she ate, Claire pulled out her phone, going onto the camera app. "Baby, smile." Claire beamed at the camera, snapping a photo of her & Leon together. Although, he didn't smile, he gave a half assed grin. "Can you ever look like you're happy with me?" Claire scoffed with a chuckle, turning her phone off after viewing the picture. "I'm always happy with you babygirl." Leon whispered, taking another one of her fries and eating it. "I hope so." Claire replied.

Leon put a soft look on his face, concerned with her response. Leon stretched his hand out and took her hand in his, caressing it gently with his thumb. "Baby, you don't actually question my happiness with you, do you?" Leon questioned her, squeezing her hand softly, wanting to hear her answer. "No, I don't, I just really want you to be happy, always." Claire responded, leaning her head down and pressing a loving kiss to his big hand, nuzzling her head against it.

He nodded, stroking her hair a few times before pulling his hand away and standing up. "You all done?" "Yes, here." Claire answered, giving her container to Leon so he could throw it away. Leon took it, turning around swiftly and dropping it into the garbage can. He'd have to carry his styrofoam box around until they leave but he doesn't really mind, they won't be here much longer anyways. Claire also got up, yawning moderately as she took Leon's hand in hers, causing him to feel a warm, happy feeling.

"Let's head to those bears, shall we?" Claire smiled, skipping along the pavement. From where they were, the bears were about a two minute walk away according to the map. "Let's go then." Leon responded. "Do you know what kind of bears there is?" "I'm pretty sure brown bears, that's what it said on the website at least." "Oh, okay, at least it's not polar bears." Leon joked. "They're very devious. Y'know, dolphins are also menaces, they're super evil, sometimes even towards humans." Claire spoke.

Leon knew that but for Claire's sake, he acted like he didn't, "You just know everything, huh?" Leon teased her. Claire tittered at his words.

At the exhibit, Claire was so excited to see the bears. While she was terrified of them, they were just big cuddly babies and if they weren't aggressive, she'd totally have one as a pet. "Oh baby, they're so adorable." Claire voiced, smiling through the thick glass and waving to the bears. They seemed totally uninterested. "They're probably exhausted, all they do is show off to people." "Poor little guy's, alongside the wolves, we've gotta take these guy's too." Claire chortled, lightly tapping her fingers on the glass but not enough for the bears to hear.

"Want me to take the photos this time?" "Sure babe, just my back right pocket." Claire said softly, poking her rear out for him. Leon couldn't help but bite his lip, man he was lucky. "Cute." He scoffed playfully, logging into her phone and opening the camera application. He knew Claire was picky so he'd have to run the photos by her first. "Alright baby, want a photo of each one or...?" "Yeah, each one and one of all of them please."

Obliging, Leon began to click the button, taking a photo of each bear. They were so lazy looking, very peaceful, not a care in the world. "Heh, that one is asleep." Leon chuckled, Claire as well. "Baby, if we were animals, what would we be?" Claire questioned her husband. "Definitely either fish or deer, why?" "Curious on your thoughts. I think we'd be birds and fly free together." Claire whispered, resting her head on his shoulder as he took the final pic, they turned out nicely.

"Onwards and upwards baby." Leon took her hand in his. "Did you take a look at where the tiger enclosure is?" "Just up ahead, then after that we can get going, yeah?" Claire smiled, the sun making their skin feel more heated than ever. Claire was dying to feel the car's AC on her body. "This heat is killing me." She whined again. "We can go to the car now if you want honey." "No... I wanna see the tigers." Claire stated sternly, making sure she already has her phone out. She was set in her ways, as always.

Stepping up the stairs that were made out of concrete, the largest enclosure of them all sat right before them. There were multiple tigers in it, most of them relaxing but there was one baby tiger roaming around. "Holy shit baby, they have a baby!" Claire said in awe, crouching down and smiling at it. The tiger ran up to the glass and pawed at it, it's eyes shiny and pretty. "Sweetie, take a photo." Claire murmured, handing her phone to Leon. He knew this meant so much to her. He took a couple quick images of Claire and the tiny tiger.

"I did it honey." Leon whispered back, sliding her phone into her pocket. Claire giggled as the mama tiger came over, as if to protect it's baby. "Don't worry mama." Claire said softly, her tone soothing. The two tigers just stood there, looking at Claire. They didn't seem aggressive or anything, rather curious. Claire gave them one last smile before slowly standing up, not wanting to make any sudden movements. "You're like mother nature." Leon joked, wrapping his arm around her as she stepped back.

Making eye contact a little longer, Claire took one last photo of the two tigers, in absolute shock by their actions. "They were so precious." Claire giggled, watching as they walked off further into the enclosure. "They seemed to enjoy your company." Leon smiled, kissing her cheek, "Just like I do." He was such a flirt. Claire snorted, taking his hand in hers, "C'mon you dork, let's get to the car, we can stop and look at some more on our way out." She giggled, their hands interlocked.

[the-kr8tor]

I've been writing so much tonight that my finger's are cramping up in the double jointed way and I'm listening to the sauciest, most diabolical jaw-dropping, toe-curling, the father the son and the holy spirit amen-needing songs but WE PERSIST. Daily Hobie HC! I love the art of Hobie you get for your fics- they're crunchy and tasty and I love them. Hobie was always mesmerized by the way your art seemed to be so captivating, yet you were always able to find things you don't like about it. Whenever you tried to even nitpick ever so slightly about your art, Hobie would hold a hand over your mouth, whispering playfully about how you shouldn't talk badly about something that you spent hours on in case the government finds out, and that's where he knows he loses you due to the absurdity of it all. But, despite you rolling your eyes multiple times at him , he's aware it works wonders as you're no longer hyper-focusing on every little detail of your art and instead just laughing at his creatively worded ramble about government schemes. He always loves to nick (or buy, depending) art supplies and sketchbooks for you, adoring the way your eyes light up at whatever he brings you, whether it be a mechanical pencil which you always gush over what led it is (Hobie is clueless but he likes listening to you), or a new sketchbook with one of those textures on the hardcover which feel nice to run your fingers along. Any time you're doing art, you can't help but use Hobie as a muse. He could be doing anything, and yet you can't help but sketch him out, including his texture and border. Hobie teases you on how he is the perfect remedy for art block, and yet he really is. His textures, borders and colours always make you try something different with how far you can stretch with your style, as if he was perfectly made to be the cure to one of the most frustrating things you have to go through. One thing that usually happens as you're sketching out a picture, this time, a polaroid picture, Hobie will come over and drape himself across your back, burying his face into the back of your neck while his arms tightened around your middle, snuggling into you from behind. Occasionally, he'll look over your shoulder and rest his chin against it, his eyes roaming over your work. He'll sometimes point out things that you might've forgotten, like an extra stud on his choker or the dripping mascara design on his Spider-Man mask. Or, when you ask, he'll suggest things for the background. Certain flowers to frame, or a pattern or just even funny icons. However, you noticed that sometimes, Hobie will toss some crumpled up papers aside with a frustrated sigh, as if he had no idea what to do and was trying to think of something. Once, your curiosity got the better of you, and you took one of these crumpled pieces of paper while Hobie was patrolling. Your heart melted when you saw the chibi drawings that Hobie had doodled representing the two of you. You could see that in corners he was planning out your design, before one being a coloured final. This one, you two were holding hands and smiling at each other, with little scribbly hearts surrounding it. Unravelling the other pieces of paper, you noticed that Hobie had spent a while in figuring out what design best suited you, not wanting to simplify your appearance too much, yet not wanting to complicate it.

He figured that he wanted to leave a bigger gift this time, so why not leave a piece of art? Yet, he was having some trouble over the past few days figuring out a doable design for you. When Hobie came back, he barely noticed that one crumpled paper was missing, while you had already cut the doodle out and hid it in your little memory box, out of Hobie's grasp. Only was it on the anniversary of you two when Hobie finally gifted you the little drawings that he did was when you revealed the one you took. Although he was slightly surprised you paid that much attention, he was happy that you at least enjoyed it much more than he did. For Hobie, that made it all the more worth it. -🐦‍⬛

I'm so jelly rn I wanna write a lot today too! I'm happy that you are writing so much today tho!! ❤️

Daily Hobie HC ‼️‼️‼️

I have such talented and amazing lovelies! I'm not worthy of their talents

HHAHHAHAHAHHAHA he starts to spill out conspiracy theories just to stop u from bringing yourself down

Oh Hobie would have the time of his life (nicking) in one of those bougie art supply stores with the world class stationary!

You are so right! Hobie is the best muse there is! (Stares at my 100+ fics of him)

Lol he's backseat drawing 😂

Aisbwjbswhjs He makes art of you!!! 😍😍😍 Ooh what if he paints like a little chibi version of your face on his guitar! That would be so sweet I'd cry fr 🥹

[whatsyourcolor]

Thank you for answering!My enthusiasm for PPP is completely gone but thank you for the updates on psycho-fes.I don’t consider Ubukata and Fukami(who jp shinkane fandom favours A LOT.Idk why)to be nowhere near the writer Urobuchi is personally.Shiotani is well,Shiotani.In their hands Kougami is basically a mindless fan service machine who’s just there to sell merch,do some complicated mixed martial arts and raise viewership.As they say I think their viewership was predominantly supposed to be manly men but it ended up being above 60% women.And they lost touch with what their viewers resonate with.They could have left it open ended like Royai/Okakuri but they had to kill it with “It might come off as very romantic but don’t worry they are just platonic workplace buddies and that’s all they’ll ever be”.I’ll say this if you take whatever they say in the magazines with a grain of salt you can expect a lot.But why do that when writers don’t even care about how viewers interpret things and just tell them they are dead wrong in their interpretation?!I certainly can’t claim to know more than the writers.I doubt anything at this point changes anything.Again tysm ❤️

Sigh, I agree. When I saw an 80s anime style robot in S3, I was like what? It’s like they are confused about their audience, no doubt. Like they want to attract teenage boys but, you are right, I bet you at least 80% of their merch is bought by women and 80% of the fanart, that keeps this fandom alive is created by women. (If I’m wrong, anyone reading, feel free to correct me).

As for Kogami, I think it’s true they don’t know what to do with him after Sinners. At least in the Sinners movie they tried to show another side of him and Ginoza, some growth, some reflection. It’s kinda sad that Kogami ends up killing all the same by the end of it. It’s like they need him to remain violent even though it contradicts what he feels (remorse and regret about killing). I imagine this is the only way they can insert action in the movies.

And to the annoyance of many in the fandom, Urobuchi’s writing can’t be topped. There are just too many layers, too many interesting thoughts. Even in the PP Movie, all the talk about democracy and people having the right to choose how to be governed. S1 is a masterpiece of a dystopia that I think we can all visualize. He’s just on another level.

They don’t have to give us what we want, but it feels like they tease the audience all the time. Like you said, just leave it open.

I also feel like they don’t care about Akane as a character, but that’s for another post.

[kindaoptimisticsquirrel]

Trigun Bookclub Vol1 Ch4-5

Thoughts on ch4-5 below!

Previous review

This is just a panel that I liked, because of the idea of using props as graphic image elements (there must be a specific english term for what I’m trying to say). Like the pipe here! I just think it’s purely to make the image more interesting, maybe give some depth, since it creates a distinction between fore- and background. Nice!

In the span of two pages, Vash as seen to the left was really quick to eat...4, 5 sandwiches?? This boy is still growing it seems.

There’s noting super special to mention about this page apart from me again admiring Nightow’s paneling style. It is a pretty simple page layout, but that’s what I love about it! It’s simple, it’s easy to read, and most importantly, it’s not crammed with stuff that’s unnecessary and would just make it more complicated. Like, I also love other series that use detailed backgrounds and I’m a big fan of Inio Asano’s work “Dead Dead Demon’s Dedede Destruction” (google it, it’s the complete opposite) BUT there’s a certain skill to being able to simplify. To simplify, but make it interesting nonetheless! And we’ll see that Nightow is a master at that, because just have a look at his silhouettes and shapes!! Oh man I will be unstoppably in my adoration once we get to Trimax Wolfwood, he’s got the best shapes.

Hehe and I also love the backgrounds in this series. Look at these two house shapes! He could’ve just drawn them like two parallel blocks, but no there’s some diagonal lines, and even some whitespace beneath where the houses nearly connect at the top! And that I say nearly connect is also important, because often in drawings you don’t want lines to accidentally touch each other or the frame, as this is just giving that part of the image more focus that you might not want there. So either leave enough white space between it or just go completely through with it. (example maybe to show what I mean: on the left, Kaite’s hair doesn’t tough the frame border on the right. It is close, but still far enough away that you can connect the dark background as one element. His hair above on the other hand does cross the border of the panel...well not by much, but it works. I should probably give better examples but I hope you get what I mean?)

As the red text says: Look at that freaking beautiful panel to the right. DAMN that’s art. (ok well I wrote one image above smth about elements touching the frame and here the sandsteamer is really close to the frame on the left so I DO wonder if it would look even better if you moved it slightly to the right?

Does it make a difference? I’m really not sure. Anyway, moving on)

I love how Milly is unintentionally really deceptive!

This is just too cute! Look how happy Vash looks now that the child is eating! Letting out a little sigh of relief <:)

Kudos to that first panel for accentuating perfectly what is being said. Yes, it is very dark out there. Neither the characters nor the reader has any idea what might be hiding in the dark because it’s just A WHOLE PANEL MADE OF DARKNESS. And it needs that much black space! Again, wouldn’t have nearly as much impact if id would have just shown one of their faces looking outside while saying this.

Love this page for the flow, the dynamic. Also look how neatly foreground (BL gang) and background (sandsteamer) are distinguished from each other because of their differenct brightness! (all in all we have 3 neatly seperated layers: foreground with the cars, the middle which moves further away for the reader because it’s darker with the sandsteamer and then the background, which is just pitch black, so it’s aaaall the way in the back)

Loving their comic relief energy in the first volume :D

Spoilers so skip if you don’t want to read this:

Rem! Sniff! It is so dear to me that Vash misses his mother so much, and in his mind and dreams sometimes wanders back to her. He’s old, but in his heart, still a hurt and lost boy who’s all alone, missing the comfort of another person he could open up to. I like the fact that they are both laying in a grass field, something Vash probably never even experienced? I wonder if Rem told him about picnics. Maybe they made plans to have picnics, all three of them together, once they arrived on this new world...SOBS

[alwaysmarveling]

The Incident, The Aftermath

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: Amputation, an explosion, hints at PTSD (it’s a wee bit sad but I promise it gets happier)

Word Count: ~3k

A/N: So I finally got the guts to post something... If you like it, thank Camz :) If you don’t, sorry mi dude, I’m working on it (but constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!).

You’d slipped into the tank top and shorts easily enough, and here you were standing in front of your dresser. One look at the unruly mop atop your head caused you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You carefully ran the brush through your hair, allowing the knots to loosen up one by one.

You’d been leaving your hair down every day since The Incident, but that was two weeks ago. Assuming everything healed properly, Tony and Bruce were going to fit you for a prosthetic in a week, but until then you had to work with what you had… which was one less arm than you were used to having your entire life.

The universe wasn’t being very thoughtful of your adjustment—it was supposed to get up to ninety-five degrees today—so maybe today would be the day to try putting it up. You had seen some people do it on YouTube, and it didn’t seem that difficult. Plus, if you had enough dexterity to wield a knife with one hand and still leave your opponent in pieces, you should be able to put up your hair with one hand easy peasy.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, unsure of what to really do with it. You didn’t see a braid working. You could pin some of it to the side so that it wouldn’t fall in your face, but with the heat, you wanted it completely up. A messy bun could work, though; it was simple, got the hair off of your neck, and it was meant to be a bit untidy. Perfect. With the style in mind, you pushed an elastic around your wrist and set off to work.

Twisting your hair was easy enough. Looping it around to actually form a bun was slightly more difficult, but you managed. When it came time to actually loop the elastic around the bun, though, things got more complicated.

You copied the video, pressing your head against the wall to hold your hair in place while you secured the elastic. However, looping the elastic around the bun without significantly shifting your hair was proving to be extremely difficult. Nevertheless, you managed to do it. The mirror then filled with your reflection as you examined your handiwork.

Handiwork was one word for it. Simply put, it looked like a toddler had done your hair. You weren’t sure how exactly you had messed up since you couldn’t really see behind your head, but you could see the result, and it wasn’t pretty. You let out a puff of air, pulling the elastic out and reaching for your brush. One glance at the clock told you you had enough time for two or three more attempts before you had to call it a day.

Five tries later, you were no better off than you were before. Sure, the bun was supposed to be messy, but there was a certain art to a messy bun. This just looked like a giant cat spit a hairball on top of your head. On top of that, you were now running late to meet Wanda for grocery shopping.

“Miss Y/N,” FRIDAY started.

“Tell her I’ll be down in five,” you sighed, your eyes brimming with tears. You supposed one more day of leaving your hair down wouldn’t kill you even if it was going to be hot, but you just wanted to be able to take care of yourself. You hated seeing the looks of sympathy your teammates gave you every time you had to ask for help for the simplest things, whether it be grabbing a plate at the bottom of the stack or setting up equipment for training.

Sure, things were getting a little easier, like dressing yourself without help. You could deal with the phantom pain. It was excruciating, but pain was one part of the job that you were used to. You had also managed to hide your frustration from the team pretty well since The Incident, but you weren’t sure if that made it any better; half of them seemed like they were walking on eggshells when they were around you.

When it came to the nightmares, though, that was much harder to hide, especially considering you shared a bed with one of the lightest sleepers in the world. You hated waking her up every night, your body soaked in sweat and chest heaving as you forced yourself to remember that it was all over, forced your mind to believe that you were safe even when your body didn’t.

Before you could really understand what was happening, your emotions from the last few weeks bubbled over. Anger, frustration, anguish, and countless others flew to the surface, demanding to be released. Your fingers dug into your hair, yanking on the elastic—along with several strands of hair—until they flew out, hitting the floor somewhere you didn’t care to find. The hairbrush was next, being snatched from the top of the dresser and chucked at the door as hard as you could manage.

“What the- Y/N? Are you okay, babe?”

The thwack of the brush hitting the door caused you to flinch even though you were the one who caused it. Not processing your girlfriend’s muffled words at first, your eyes widened as you stepped back, and for a split second you were transported back to The Incident.

---

You grabbed the last civilian who had fallen behind the others, practically tossing them out of the building before it could explode.

“Y/N! Get out of-” Before Steve could finish his sentence, the building burst into flame, and the blast sent you flying in the air.

When you came to, the only thing you could focus on was the excruciating pain radiating from your elbow. You couldn’t make out exactly what had happened to it, but, wow, to say it hurt was an understatement.

It was several minutes later before the ringing cleared from your ears and you finally realized someone was talking to you.

“Y/N! Y/N, love, please, where are you?” The familiar voice drove you to use the little energy you had left, lifting your head off of the pavement to scan your surroundings. The dust and debris from the explosion made it difficult to see, but you could just make out her shape a few feet away from you.

“Turn… around, you doofus… I’m… behind you,” you wheezed out before letting your head hit the ground.

“Y/N! Oh my god, I thought we-” The second the former assassin saw you, her mouth dropped.

“What is it, Natty?” you asked weakly.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just give me a second, okay? I’m going to get the rest of the team so we can get you out of here.”

“Liar,” you wheezed, half-teasing, half-panicked, but your girlfriend had already turned around. Squinting your eyes, you could just make out the small movements of her lips that told you she was talking, but the chaos and your pain and exhaustion—and probably blood loss, but you didn’t know that at the time—was making it impossible to hear what she was saying.

“Okay, they’re coming,” she reassured you, kneeling down next to you.

“What happened?” you tried again.

“You’re a hero, babe,” the redhead murmured, smoothing back your hair and brushing dirt from your face.

“Yeah?” Your voice was growing weaker, and you were becoming loopier than someone who had just come out of wisdom teeth surgery. Natasha knew it was only moments until you passed out.

“Yeah, you did it, sweet girl. You saved them all.”

“I did? I seriously hope Helen is a superhero too because someone’s going to need to save my arm. God, it hurts.” Natasha only let out a huff at your poor attempt at a joke, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

“Just hold on a little longer for me, okay? Can you do that?” Something wet hit your cheek, making you realize that your girlfriend was crying.

“Of course,” you scoffed. “Don’t…” You left her hanging.

---

After what felt like years, you finally regained your breath and returned to the present. “I’m fine,” you yelled out, your voice wavering. You knew Natasha wouldn’t believe you. Not only was she your girlfriend, but she was literally one of the best spies in the world. Sure enough, she tried to open the door, her efforts in vain since you’d locked it when you were changing.

“Hon, can you please open the door?”

“I’m fine, Nat,” you breathed out, your tone slightly more stable.

“Just let me in,” she pleaded. “Please?” Her soft voice made you sigh in resignation as you wiped your eyes. You tugged your fingers through your hair, trying to tame the bird’s nest on your head at least a little before showing yourself to her.

“Hi,” you practically whispered, not making eye contact with her once you had opened the door.

“Hey,” she responded softly, taking your hand in one of hers and using her other hand to lift up your chin. Rather than saying anything else immediately, she pressed a soft kiss to the top of your forehead as her second hand slid down to completely wrap your one hand in both of hers. The two of you stood in the doorway for a while, eyes closed and hand in hand. You weren’t a super soldier, but you were sure you could hear both of your heartbeats, yours slowing down to beat in tandem with hers.

“You okay?” she finally asked. You nodded slightly, your breathing now back to normal and the tears no longer streaming down your face.

Natasha always had a way of calming you down. You didn’t get frustrated or angry often, but when you did… the rest of the Avengers always joked that you were seconds away from becoming the next Hulk.

The former assassin slowly reached up to untangle your locks, noticing how you flinched when she first reached your hairline.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started with the faintest hint of uncertainty, “It’s been a while since I did your hair, and I saw this new hairstyle online that I thought would look really good on you…”

“Thank you,” you sighed quietly as you leaned into her touch.

“My pleasure,” your girlfriend smirked, pushing you inside your shared bedroom and closing the door behind her. She guided you to sit on the floor as she sat on the edge of the bed behind you. Brush in hand, Nat started sectioning off your hair. A small smile graced her face when you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully enjoy the contact.

Now halfway down your head, she spoke up again. “You know I’ll always be here for you, right?

“Nat…” you warned, although you had nothing to say afterwards, and the redhead took advantage of that.

“I can only imagine how upset you feel about losing your arm-”

“Nat,” you interrupted, your voice slightly harder this time. Natasha sighed as she continued to braid your hair.

“I’m just trying to say that I’m here for you. I was here for you before, and I’m here for you now. The number of limbs that you have doesn’t affect that. It also doesn’t affect your worth. You’re not useless, Y/N. You never were, and you certainly aren’t now.” Despite your best efforts, tears began to trail down your face. Natasha pursed her lips at the sight but continued, knowing that if she stopped now she wouldn’t have another chance to say what she needed to. “You are-” Nat’s fingers froze when you mumbled out something unintelligible, the hand over your mouth preventing you from enunciating. “What was that?” You sighed before speaking again.

“It’s not the arm. It’s not just the arm,” you corrected.

“Then what is it?” She resumed braiding your hair, her voice matching the tenderness in her hands.

“It’s- it’s the- god, this is embarrassing.”

“You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about, love. I’ll never judge you for anything you’re feeling,” the redhead promised, pausing once again to brush her lips above your brow bone.

“It’s the fear, Nat. I can’t go one second without thinking about the explosion. About… losing it. I’m scared 24/7, Nat, and even if I could forget about it for even a moment, I have a constant reminder.” Natasha didn’t have to see your face to know that your eyes had flickered to the remainder of your arm that hung by your side. “And, god,” you laughed bitterly, “god, does it make me feel weak. What kind of Avenger constantly lives in fear and panic? How am I ever supposed to help anyone like this?”

“Y/N.” She stopped braiding your hair for the third time, pulling on it slightly so that you were forced to meet her eyes above you. “You are the strongest person I know. I know you’re scared, but guess what? You went through something super traumatic. It’s okay to be scared. Honestly, I might be more concerned if you came out of that and you weren’t scared at all. All of us get scared, and that’s perfectly valid because being scared does not make you weak. Being scared means you value your life, and that’s a good thing.” She paused her speech to relax her grip on your hair, but your head remained tilted, captivated by the passion and emotion that filled your girlfriend’s face and voice.

“And the Avenger that lives in fear and panic is the same one that was ready to give up her life to save people. You helped people in the past not because you had two arms or because you weren’t scared of stuff. You helped them for the sole reason that you made a commitment to helping others, to making the world a better place, and that is the sole reason why you will still be able to help others.” Natasha’s whole body was trembling. The hands that held your hair were white at the fingertips as she clenched them. 

“I admire you more than anyone else in the world. You’re a hero, Y/N. Not ‘were,’ but ‘are.’ You’re the hero of every single person whose life you saved, and you’re my hero.”

“I didn’t-” Despite your interruption, the spy didn’t stop talking.

“You saved my life, Y/N, the second you walked into it. You give me a reason to live, to wake up every morning. And you’re my hero even more so now than before because you get up every day with a smile on your face, no matter what’s thrown at you.”

“Not much of a smile now,” you sniffed. Despite the tears that blurred your vision, you couldn’t stop the corner of your lips from curling up slightly. Nat laughed at the juxtaposition, finishing up the intricate braids woven in your hair before turning you around to face her.

“But look how quickly that changed,” she teased, pecking your lips after she wiped the tears from your face.

“Thank you,” you repeated for the second time in less than fifteen minutes.

“It was my pleasure. Plus, I was right, this hairstyle does look really good on you.” You bit your lip in embarrassment as you turned your gaze to the floor. “I’ll always do your hair for you, milaya.”

“I was actually thinking of shaving it off,” you smirked. As you examined your reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help but agree with Natasha. You looked good, missing arm and all. A little teary-eyed and runny-nosed, but amazing nonetheless.

“Don’t you dare,” your girlfriend scoffed. “I know I said I wasn’t leaving, but I might at that,” she winked.

“Hey!” You tackled her to the ground. Reaching for her abdomen, her eyes widened as your grin grew larger.

“Y/N, don’t you dare-” You talked over her, not paying attention to her threat.

“I can still tickle you with one arm.” The spy didn’t get the chance to respond before you pounced, smiling at the sound of her laughter.

“Stop, Y/N, please!” she managed to get out.

“Are you going to leave me then? Huh?”

“No, no! I won’t! I’ll never leave you! Please, just stop!” You let up on the tickling, gently brushing away the hair that was thrown over her face seconds ago. “Great,” Nat groaned, “now I need to redo my hair.”

“Sorry,” you giggled sheepishly. Seeing the pout on her face, you bent down and met her lips with yours.

“I meant it, though.”

“That you need to fix your hair?” Natasha laughed at the way your head had adorably cocked to one side.

“No, silly, that you’re my hero. That you’re the strongest, most admirable person I know. That I’ll always be there for you, and that I’ll always do your hair for you, even when you don’t need me to do it for you any longer.”

“I love you.” You kissed her again. “And I will always love you.” Noticing a slight shift in her face, you paused, studying her expression. “Don’t you dare start singing that song.”

“Miss Y/N, Miss Maximoff is wondering if you are alright.”

“Shoot, I need to go grocery shopping with Wanda!” You scrambled to get off of the floor, smoothing out your clothes before looking for your shoes. “Uh, FRIDAY, tell her I’m so sorry and I’m coming down right now.”

“One more for the road?” Nat pouted just before you reached the door.

“Of course. Thank you again, for everything.” Your lips melted together for a second before you pulled away.

---

“Wanda, I’m here, I’m so, so sorry!” You half-ran, half-slid down the hallway to meet your best friend at the door.

“Hey,” Wanda turned to greet you. “What took you-” She paused upon making eye contact with you. “I like your hair,” she grinned.

“Thanks,” you smiled back, “Nat did it for me.”

[mintaka14]

This is chapter 2 of my Dash & Lily inspired ML AU.

For the Lady’s Favour

A Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction

By Mintaka14

 Chapter Two – Complicated Plans

 “Delivery order,” Luka’s boss said laconically, and pushed a takeaway cup and a slip of paper across the counter towards Luka.

Delivery orders weren’t uncommon, but the address on the slip was, and Luka’s eyebrow climbed as he read it. His boss just shrugged.

“The customer paid extra for this one, so you’d better get going.”

At least it was a nice day to be making a delivery to the Trocadéro, and Luka headed out into the streets towards the gardens.

There were plenty of people clustered around the first bench from the northern entrance of the park, and the second, but there was only one at the third bench. He could see pigtails, and a girl bent over the sketchbook in her lap. As he got closer, he caught a glimpse of an assortment of clothing, notes and scribbles and odd sketches around the edges.

“Delivery for the lady at the third bench?” he called out, and his attention was caught by the figure she seemed to be working on. Was that… Jagged Stone? This girl had good taste in music, clearly, and the coat she’d sketched on him looked amazing.

“Hey, that’s really –“ The girl looked up, and Luka completely lost his train of thought as he found himself staring into endlessly blue eyes. Holy shit.

“Is that my coffee?” she asked with a tentative smile, and Luka jerked back to attention. He looked down at the chocolate and fluff with extra everything and all the froufrou his boss had been able to jam into one cup.

“Not exactly.”

The girl’s eyes fell on the cup in his hands, and she let out a soft breath.

“I guess he has a sweet tooth,” she said, and he handed her the cup, trying not to react to the brush of her fingers.

“You didn’t see who placed the order?” she asked a little wistfully. “It- it wasn’t you, was it?”

“Me?” Luka was still reeling under the impact of those blue, blue eyes. “Right now, I wish it had been.”

He nodded at the cup of chocolate and marshmallow fluff in her hands. “Although I’m more of a coffee guy.”

She lit up in a smile, and any semblance of rational thought that Luka had left was gone. Damn, she was just too gorgeous.

“Me too, to be honest. I wouldn’t get half the things I need to do done without a regular caffeine hit. Are you a night owl too?”

“Too often, yeah. It kind of comes with the territory.”

She raised an eyebrow at that, and he found himself talking more.

“I play in a couple of bands, and I’d keep falling asleep over my guitar in the middle of a gig without coffee to keep me going.”

“You’re a musician?”

He grinned and ducked his head in acknowledgement. “What about you? What keeps you up at night?”

It was only after he’d said it that he realised how that could have sounded, but the girl didn’t seem to notice.

“Design and sewing.” She let out a faint huff. “The middle of the night always seems to be about the only time I can focus on my projects without something interrupting me, so… coffee.” She pulled a face at the mountain of fluffy chocolate in her hand, and then seemed to realise that they were still standing in the middle of the park. She backed up a reluctant step. “I should – I should stop holding you up. You probably need to get back to work, and here I’m – Sorry. Thanks for bringing me the hot chocolate.”

“You can hold me up any time,” he sighed, but only when she was out of hearing. He turned and headed back towards the coffee shop, but he came to an abrupt stop at the sound of running footsteps and the touch of a hand on his arm.

“Sorry, sorry!” the girl gasped. She held out a raspberry red macaron wrapped in cellophane and ribbon. It was a work of art. “I nearly forgot. Could you give this to the person who ordered the hot chocolate for me?”

“It looks like a ladybug,” he said stupidly, and she blushed again. “No, it’s cute. Lucky.”

“I could use a bit of luck,” she muttered, then she met his eyes and her smile grew brighter. “It was really nice to meet you, Luka. Thanks for my sugar rush.”

Luka’s malfunctioning brain caught on that. “You know my name?”

And the girl’s face flamed into embarrassment. “I don’t… you… the thing…” She gave up and nodded at his chest, and the name tag that was still there.

Ah. Of course.

“I’m Ma-ma-marinette,” she offered, tripping over her own name.

“Pretty name. It suits you.” Judging from the way her cheeks burned even brighter, his tone had been a little more heartfelt than he’d intended, and, reluctantly, he backed up a step. “Guess I’d better get back before my boss notices I’m missing and decides to fire me.”

The smile she gave him almost knocked him on his ass, and he turned away before he could make even more of an idiot of himself. There was something niggling at the back of his mind, though.

Luka stopped and turned back.

“Marinette,” he said. “Wait, do you know Juleka Couffaine?”

“We were in the same class for a few years,” Marinette admitted. “We hang out sometimes.”

“You’re Marinette! I heard all about you from Jules after that thing with the school photo.” He could have kissed her for what she’d done for his baby sister’s self-confidence, and if half the things he’d heard from Juleka were true, this girl was every bit as incredible as he’d just been imagining. He realised he was beaming at her like a fool, and tried to dial it back a bit.

“Nothing too bad, I hope,” she said, sounding a little alarmed, and he felt his smile soften.

“Nothing bad at all.”

When he finally got back to the coffee shop, Luka had barely had time to slide behind the counter and sling an apron around his waist again before the door swung open with an enthusiastic peal of the bell. He looked up to find Adrien Agreste heading towards the counter with an expression of barely concealed nervous anticipation on his famous features.

Luka gave him an easy smile, but before he could ask what the model wanted, Adrien had blurted out, “Did she like it? Did… were you the one who delivered the hot chocolate for me? Was she there?”

So Marinette’s mystery hot chocolate was Paris’ beloved poster boy.

Luka silently handed him the macaron that Marinette had asked him to deliver, and watched the model’s face light up like Christmas had come early.

~~~~~

Marinette was not surprised when Alya burst into her bedroom without so much as a greeting.

“So?” Alya said impatiently. “How did it go?”

“He sent me hot chocolate. I think I’m still in sugar shock, Alya, but the boy who delivered it was so funny and sweet about it –“

“Never mind the delivery guy,” Alya cut her off. “Your mystery guy came through! You had your first date with him… feel free to tell me I’m a genius any time now. This is a good start. The whole idea is for you to get to know each other before you meet, so you need to write to him and get him to do something to show he’s serious here.”

“Like what?”

Alya shrugged. “You’re the one with the plans. You just have to come up with something you can get him to do that doesn’t involve you meeting face to face, something he can do to win your favour.”

“Yes, but it’s not like I can ask him to fight a duel for my honour or something…” Marinette trailed off. “Fight,” she repeated thoughtfully.

“I know that look,” Alya nudged her shoulder. “That’s a plan happening, isn’t it?”

Marinette grabbed a sheet of notepaper from her desk, and her favourite pen.

“Ultimate Mecha Strike,” she announced.

“What?”

“An online challenge. It’s perfect. We don’t have to meet in person, but we can play each other online and find out a bit more about each other.”

Alya was looking as if she wasn’t sure if it was a bad idea or brilliant.

“What if he doesn’t play UMS?”

“Then I can teach him.”

“And what if he doesn’t like getting whomped?” Alya asked sceptically. She was very familiar with Marinette’s playing style, and Marinette made a face, still concentrating on the note she was writing.

“Then it’s better to find out now that he’s a sore loser, before I get too attached.”

Marinette read over the note, and folded it, presenting it to Alya with a flourish. Alya grinned, and tucked it into her bag.

“Right,” she said, getting to her feet. “Let’s see if he’ll fight for your hand. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Once Alya had clattered down the steps again, Marinette buried her face in her pillow and screamed quietly. This was a bad, bad idea.

~~~~~

Luka was wiping down the counter when the bell chimed over the door, and he paused as Alya came in. It wasn’t unusual to see her in the café, but it was unusual to see her there without Nino or their friends. He watched curiously as she sidled almost furtively towards the noticeboard and tacked something up between the band posters and lost and found notices.

“What are you up to?” Luka asked, and Alya leaped, her hand going to her chest as she spun around.

“Jeez! You startled me.”

Luka tipped his head at the envelope she’d just pinned up. “I saw you the other day, when you put that letter on the board, and now this one. What’s that all about?”

“Aren’t we allowed to use the public noticeboard?” Alya asked, her hands going to her hips and a defensive note in her voice.

“And that hot chocolate delivery the other day?”

Alya huffed in response, but Luka just kept watching her with a look of mild interest, until she said, “It’s just like this game. Sort of. Like a blind date, without actually knowing who you’re dating.”

Luka’s eyebrow climbed.

“Look, we have these friends who’d be perfect for each other, but she can’t talk to him, and he’s completely clueless, so we’re trying to set them up.”

“Right,” Luka said slowly. “Does Marinette know about this?”

“Well, she doesn’t know who it is,” Alya muttered. “But she’s had this huge crush on Adrien for ages. We’re just getting them to set each other challenges, doing stuff like that coffee delivery, or… I don’t know, looking for a painting at the Louvre, something like that. Like dates, where they don’t actually meet.” Alya gave a sudden grin. “It’s going to be so hilarious when they finally work out who they’re writing to.”

“Is this some kind of practical joke?” he asked flatly, his heart sinking a little for Marinette’s sake, but Alya’s angry reaction was somewhat reassuring.

“Like I’d do that to my girl!” she said indignantly. “This is just… a creative way to help her get past some stuff. You met Marinette, so you know how she trips all over herself and stutters?”

She’d certainly stumbled over their names when she’d gotten flustered, but Marinette had been perfectly coherent through most of their conversation. Alya must have taken Luka’s expression as agreement, though, because she barrelled on.

“Well, imagine that, but like a million times worse. Girl just cannot string a sentence together around a guy she likes. And Adrien, well, he’s great with knowing what to say to his fans, and being polite to other models and his father’s business contacts, but not so good with,” Alya gestured vaguely, “normal stuff. He’s never really noticed Marinette like that, because he’s not real good with subtle, but he buys into that whole romantic movie, big gesture, winning the lady thing.”

“And that’s where this comes in?” Luka asked drily, nodding at the letter pinned to the board.

“Exactly!” Alya smacked her hands on the counter. “It’s like something out of one of those old movies. We get Adrien’s attention with the whole romantic mystery thing, and in the meantime, they can get to know each other. Marinette can talk to Adrien, because she doesn’t have to actually talk to him and she doesn’t know it’s him anyway, and Adrien can get to see how amazing my girl really is.”

“This seems like a very complicated way of doing things,” he pointed out as neutrally as possible, but Alya waved away the observation with a flip of her hand.

“You don’t know Marinette. Everything tends to be complicated with her.”

“If Marinette can’t actually talk to him in person, maybe he’s not the right one for her.”

“Oh, please! She’s been in love with him forever. Love makes you do stupid things, and she just needs a bit of a push in the right direction. I know Marinette.” Alya narrowed her eyes at him. “And what’s it got to do with you anyway?”

Luka just shook his head, not trusting himself to respond. He was honest enough with himself to admit that the pang of disappointment he’d felt when he found out that Marinette was interested in someone else might have had something to do with his judgement here, but even so, this had all the makings of a trainwreck of epic proportions. He didn’t, however, need Alya’s measuring gaze to know that it was none of his business, not if Marinette wanted this.

He shrugged, and turned away to straighten the coffee cups.

“It’s nothing to do with me,” he told her, and the note stayed pinned to the board until Adrien came in again some time later to collect it. And if Luka’s heart sank a little at the eager expression on Adrien’s face, and the thought that maybe this ridiculous plan might actually work, then he kept that to himself.

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 19: Chou

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Heyo, it's that time. Update time! One more Lao chapter after this. I'm ready for more DRAMA tho, delicious drama. Hope you're all doing well! I'm going to be out of town from the 9-15 but you shouldn't notice my absence since I'm preparing stuff to post before then bwahaha. NEW stories soon? Yes. Lots of planning so far. Much love. Sorry this is all over the place LOL. Kung Lao makin you even more confused, my lawd. Update on Tuesday!

Part 18 Part 20 Chapter Index

You returned to the stone path where you found tables had been setup to share with the other guests. Food had been setup nearby buffet style for a fee. You paid, grabbed your plates, and then took your seats amongst the others in attendance. With the exception of a handful of friends on a trip, they were all couples. A woman with short-cropped hair and dark eyes waved at Kung Lao excitedly. Her significant other offered a smile, then turned back to his food, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Oh, great, Kung Lao had made friends that morning.

“We saved you a seat!” She said once you were within earshot.

“She saved us a seat, Kung Lao.” You spoke just for him to hear, faking a smile.

“That was nice.” He urged his free arm around your shoulder and you sighed. Fake date or affection. Probably fake date. Were you winning? What were the rules to this game? Kung Lao sat down and made room for you to sit between him and the stranger. “Y/N, this is Sayuri and her boyfriend Kioshi. This is my girlfriend, Y/N.” It sounded awkward. Good. This was going great.

“Nice to meet you.” You bowed your head politely but couldn’t have felt more forced. Sayuri didn’t seem to notice. You could smell plum wine in her glass. It was extremely potent. If Chen were there, she would have spiked your drink, you were certain. Thank god for small favors. The good news was that Kung Lao could talk about anything to anyone and so you didn’t have to. They talked and you thought about other things while pushing your food around on your plate. It looked good. Really good. But you weren’t very hungry.

Your thoughts lingered on that kiss. It had escalated so damn quickly and you’d lost track of everything else. Just when you thought you had things figured out, Kung Lao had thrown you for a loop. You weren’t sure you’d ever forget how much you’d felt like a flower, petals slowly opening up just for him. Ugh. You couldn’t think about it. Focus, Y/N, focus. Kung Lao was animatedly recalling some adventure he’d gotten into in China with Liu Kang. Occasionally he patted your shoulder or nudged you and mentioned you which you returned in kind or smiled to acknowledge. Had to play the part, you supposed.

From what you could tell, hiding places would be in short supply. Much of the caldera was empty and flat. You supposed that behind the entrance gate would work. You could make short work of those walls between the two of you. That would work and it was a much better thing to focus on than the deep ache inside of you when you thought about Kung Lao’s kiss and calling you his girlfriend. How were you going to erase the guilt of breaking into a Buddhist Temple and desecrating it? You didn’t feel good about it at all. Maybe the truth would still work.

It wasn’t like you had a choice at this point. Whatever was in that well you had to get so you would do what it took. Ugh, you were going to end up being arrested at this rate.

Then, Kung Lao was stealing a pepper off your plate with his chopsticks. “Hey!” You scolded him and Sayuri giggled next to you.

“That’s what you get for not paying attention to my stories.” He ate the pepper with a grin. Even the way he ate was attractive. How incredibly unfair.

“Listen, you talk a lot, Kung Lao.” You batted your eyelashes at him playfully and the others at the table laughed. Kung Lao was going to make a snide remark, but you picked up one of the pork buns from your plate and shoved it right into his mouth. He coughed and gagged on it and you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous he was. He took a bite of the bun and then set the rest of it on his plate but was smiling. “See. You talk too much. Going to choke on your food.”

“Jokes on you. I was going to steal that next.” Kung Lao took another purposeful bite out of it. Sayuri tapped your shoulder, cheeks red with drink and then she bowed politely. You had forgotten that most of the people there likely didn’t speak Chinese. You were kind of thankful for the language barrier.

“How long have you two been dating? Kioshi and I have been together for six months. This is our first big getaway together.” Sayuri smiled brightly and nudged Kioshi who slipped an arm around her proudly. Then he whispered something to her in Japanese before getting up and leaving her alone with you. She was sweet enough but you did not know how to answer that question. You and Kung Lao had not discussed any details about your cover. This was exactly why you hated lying. It was too messy. To keep up with the lie you had to keep lying and so things fell apart so easily. You had not thought this through.

“I… umm…”

Much to your surprise, Kung Lao slipped his arm around your waist and urged you to scoot closer to him. It took every single muscle in your body not to swat at him like you usually did. “We go way back.” He sounded natural. Effortless. “I’ve known her since she was… this high?” He used his other hand to gesture just above the height of the low table. He’d been awfully ready with that response.

“Oh, that’s so sweet! Childhood sweethearts? Did you know that you’d end up together even back then?”

“Umm…” You really were terrible at this but Kung Lao wasn’t. It made you wonder how much of this was actually a lie to him.

“We were like ten when we first started hanging out so I was just a dumb kid who didn’t understand any of that. I knew that I liked her but didn’t know what to do about it.” He shrugged and leaned close to your cheek as if to give you a kiss there and you leaned away and scrunched up your face so much that he instead laughed and buried his head against your shoulder.

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” Sayuri giggled into her glass of plum wine. You turned to look at Kung Lao. He lifted his head and his eyes flitted back to yours.

“You’re terrible at this.”

“I am so terrible at this.” You were grateful for the language barrier more than ever.

Kioshi returned with a tray that held a familiar liquor bottle and small equally familiar glasses for sake. Your stomach dropped. “Drinks all around! New friends and the Autumn Festival.” He began to place the glasses in front of each of the guests.

“Oh, no, no…” You bowed and pushed the small cup away in rejection. “No alcohol for me tonight.” This was starting to feel more and more like an actual date you’d gone on with Kung Lao without even realizing it. It was hitting all the notes. Cute trip to a foreign place. Cute meal. Intimate conversation. You’d even made out a little. This was not supposed to be a pleasure trip. Also, and more importantly, you were not dating Kung Lao.

And you had kissed Liu Kang, so this was too complicated. No liquor! You could hear Chen in the back of your mind, telling you to drink, telling you to lower your inhibitions and just pick right up where you’d left off in the shrine.

“That’s probably for the best.” Kung Lao pushed his cup away too.

“Come on. Just one? For luck!” Sayuri pouted, pushing your cups back toward you.

“She won’t let it go until you do.” Kioshi chimed in. The rest of the occupants at the table were taking the cups gratefully with a bow as they were filled. It suddenly felt rude to turn down the drink so you took your cup back with a sigh. You supposed one drink would be fine. Then again, with the blood thinning problem, who knew? You’d be fine, you coached yourself. Kung Lao gave you a nervous look as though he were thinking the same thing. You were suddenly aware of how little you’d eaten. You picked up the last pork bun on your plate and ate it as quickly as you could. There. No more empty stomach.

Sayuri lifted her cup and the rest of the table did the same. So did you. The sake was hot and you took a sip of it and winced. Kung Lao downed his in one fast motion. He then set his cup aside, upside down so that no one would refill it. You were grateful for that. The last thing you needed was to be drunk while desecrating a Buddhist Temple. He continued his chatter amongst the others while you sipped until the sake was gone. Then you placed your cup next to his upside down. The sun had gone down, and the lanterns glowed a brilliant orange, illuminating the temple in warm light. You turned on the bench to face away from the table. Your cheeks were warm and the annoying overthinking had briefly stopped. At least it hadn’t taken you from zero to drunk.

Kung Lao turned to sit with you and with him, came the rest of the couples at the table. They gathered around in front of you and sat on the stone while swapping stories and histories. Some were schoolteachers, others were businessmen. Each came from an interesting and diverse background. You didn’t weigh in much. Your Japanese was just not good enough to keep up. The hum of conversation and the warmth of the sake were enough to make you sleepy.

“What about you, Kung Lao? What do you two do?” A stranger across the way asked. You didn’t remember introducing yourselves to these other people but you supposed that Kung Lao had captivated everyone’s attention. You had been more focused on why you were really there for the night. Kung Lao searched for the words to explain what it was he did. It was the first time that evening where he had struggled to come up with a lie. You decided to help him out with a little bit of truth.

“He’s a martial artist.” You patted him on the back and he forced a smile. You had done so purposely pretty hard. “And I teach martial arts.” You had. That wasn’t a lie. Immediately, people were gushing over you. “I just teach. He’s quite good.” You smiled at him, redirecting all of the attention back onto him. Sayuri leapt to her feet, wobbling with drink, excited.

“Oh! Oh! Show us something cool!” She grabbed your hand as though you had known each other far longer than an hour.

“No, no.” You laughed politely. “The sake went right to my head. I’ll pass.” You bowed. Much to your surprise, Kung Lao leaned closer to you.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine” You assured him. “But you should show off a little. You’re good at that.”

“I planned to. I need a partner but if you’re not feeling up to it.” He made another playful kissy face and you shoved him away, inciting more laughter. Kung Lao stood up, fingers brushing over the brim of his hat before he pulled it off and offered it to you to hold. You slipped it on top of your head instead. He patted the top of it. “I need a partner since Y/N won’t help me.” He spoke in Japanese as he walked into the sand below the stone path.

“Go! Kioshi!” Sayuri pushed her boyfriend to his feet but he looked incredibly nervous even if he did as he was asked. Kioshi bowed to Kung Lao after joining him in the sand.

“Now come at me.” He instructed and Kioshi did just that. Kung Lao grabbed his arm, twisted him back and then flipped him onto the sand, inciting a gasp from the crowd. But even as the man nearly struck the ground, Kung Lao crouched and stopped his momentum then helped him to his feet. Everyone applauded, and you offered him a slow, unimpressed clap. Kung Lao showed Kioshi how to do a few other moves then countered them. Poor Kioshi. He just wanted to impress Sayuri. You caught Kung Lao looking to you every so often and tried not to apply that exact thought to you. He knew you thought he was good. Right? He wasn’t showing off for you was he? Fake date or affection? You had no idea but you were pretty sure you were losing this game.

If he wanted to show off, you’d make him work. “Do a flip!” You yelled and Kung Lao looked to you as if to admonish you for putting him on the spot. Everyone else was chanting do a flip and you pointed to them as if he had no choice now. He rubbed his palms together then leapt back onto the stone walkway. He stepped to the edge of the stone and then instead of walking off, he flipped through the air, legs high above him before landing as if it were nothing at all. He really was a delight to watch. When he turned back around, he blew you a kiss and then pointed an accusatory finger at you. You covered your face with your hands as your cheeks turned red and Sayuri whistled almost directly in your ear.

This was a pretend date, you reminded yourself.

A pretend and very convincing date with Kung Lao.

It had felt so natural that you had to continuously remind yourself that it was pretend. Your face hurt from smiling and was red since he kept flirting with you even when he was just showing off something he had practiced his whole life. The crowd took over with simple requests and so he was preoccupied for a time and it gave you peace to recover from your embarrassment and for the sake to run its course.

When he was finished, the crowd politely applauded and thanked him for humoring them. You applauded with them and when he sat back down next to you, he sighed contentedly. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. The group had taken to talking amongst themselves again. Some discussed that the last bus would be coming to get them in the next hour or so.

Kung Lao turned to you and pulled up the hat on your head and tugged the strap free before gently tucking it beneath your chin. It was way looser on you and he tugged it with a smile to urge you a little closer. You averted your eyes but couldn’t hide your delight. “So, how’d I do? You didn’t seem too impressed.”

“You’re great Kung Lao, but you already knew that.”

“I know. I just wanted to hear it from you.” He took the hat from you and then slipped it back on his head. “Cute hat. I think I’ll steal it.” You watched the others chat and then Kung Lao stood and offered you his hand. “One last walk by the water?”

“Sure, I guess.” You sighed and took his hand before getting up. You were supposed to be discreet so that no one would notice you were missing when you hid. So much for that. Perhaps you would say goodbye in a moment and then find somewhere to hide until everyone else left. That would work. Kung Lao leapt off the stone path and offered you help down which you took. Then you let go of his hand walked closer to the water. Kung Lao didn’t follow you immediately, but you could feel his eyes following you.

Then he jogged to catch up with you. “Y/N?” You turned to face him, and he stopped in front of you. He took a purposeful step closer to you, denying you personal space. You were forced to tilt your gaze up to meet his.

“Yes?” You asked skeptically. He rested one hand on your hip, and you cocked a curious eyebrow as if to dare him to keep going. You would ten thousand percent pin his ass into the sand if you had to. He tilted your chin up and examined your face before letting his fingers brush down your jaw and over the side of your neck. His eyes followed the trail of his fingertips and you stiffened up but didn’t back down. He leaned ever closer and you very bravely, at least you thought it was brave, refused to turn away, even when his lips drew ever closer.

“…you’ve got something in your teeth,” he whispered with a grin. You laughed and smacked his hand away from your neck and then stepped back and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“I am going to knock you on your ass and throw you into that toxic lake if you keep that up.” You threatened, walking away from him.

“Well, that’s rude!” He caught up to you and so you shoved at him again with a laugh and kept walking while he stumbled in the sand. You heard him get closer again and so you turned to warn him that you were going to follow through on your threat but he grabbed your arm, pulled you close, and without any warning or pretense, his lips pressed against yours. He was still laughing and you could feel the reverberations of the sweet sound moving through your lips, down your throat and sending shivers down your spine.

It made you smile and as if they had a mind of their own, your lips betrayed you and kissed him back. He held you tight to steady you in the sand and then pushed a stray hair from your face, then urged you to tilt your head even further back as he opened his mouth wider to deepen the kiss, taking each moment greedily for his own. His lips still tasted like the damn pork bun that you’d shoved in his mouth and that made you laugh.

His arm slipped around you and his hand met the small of your back and pulled you tight against him. His warm body pressed against yours woke you from the romantic reverie he’d slipped you into.

“Nope,” you muttered against his lips and then pulled back, leaning away from him since his arm held you captive.

“Oh?” Eyes half-lidded, Kung Lao seemed confused as to why you’d stopped him. Your stomach dropped. That look in his eyes was killing you, something more than romance, closer to lust. Your stomach was doing flips again. Affection or fake date? This one was easy. “Sorry.” He very suddenly realized that it may have been inappropriate and pursed his lips while he searched for the inevitable elusive lie that he would feed you as an excuse for his behavior. “Got carried away.” That was not so much a lie this time.

“Sure you did. Because of all the people that we’ve lied to, right? Had to act the part of doting boyfriend? You came up with our origin story very quickly, by the way.”

“Oh?” He was again at a loss for words, very unlike him. He turned to look at where the others were still gathered on the stone path by the tables. “Oh! Yeah. The act. That thing. Right.”

“Wow,” you whispered but your brain was screaming. No words. Just screams. The panic was real. This was a mess. A huge mess. How had you slipped so naturally into these roles? There were no other words for it than a total and complete fucking mess. He let you go and then went on talking like nothing had happened. He tried to lead you along the sand again.

What were they going to do? What were you going to do? You couldn’t date them both! You had already kissed them both and felt terribly guilty about it. You even felt a little slutty which was never a word you would have used to describe yourself as much as Chen wished that you would.

Maybe slutty was too harsh a word. Your lips, at the very least, were very slutty.

Kung Lao was listing off potential places that you could hide while you waited for the monks to end their night. He’d managed to go back to being his normal self. You couldn’t turn that off so quickly. The rollercoaster was back and there was a huge drop just ahead. You had nothing to say, no input even when he asked you for it. You kept walking alongside him instead, the screaming in your head now mixed with chaotic laughter at the improbability of the situation. You had to make a choice eventually. But both of them were so different and your connection to them was even more so. You had to stop thinking about it. There was no solving this now.

“Did I make it weird?” His words finally slipped through all the screaming which stopped very suddenly.

“What? With your bad jokes and all the showing off?” You instantly found refuge in sarcasm. Oh god, you were so alike in some ways. Kung Lao cocked an eyebrow as if to say you knew exactly what he was referring to. “Oh. Oh, yeah, that kissing me thing you keep doing.”

“Yeah, that’s the one. That’s the thing.”

You huffed. Where to start? Most important of the things bothering you, you supposed. The truth. “I kissed Liu.” You were surprised by how confident you’d sounded. You hadn’t actually said it out loud before. “And I wanted to kiss him.”

Kung Lao did not seem surprised by this revelation. In fact, he seemed very unsurprised. “And did you want to kiss me?”

You stuttered because that was not the response that you’d expected. Wait. Did he already know? Were Liu Kang and Kung Lao gossiping about you? The screaming was back but this time it was angry. You pinched the bridge of your nose and then grunted in frustration and made to walk away. Kung Lao grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Did you?”

“Yeah, I suppose that I did.” Getting those words out was like pulling teeth. You didn’t know what anything meant. Everything was chaos and nothing mattered. “I can’t kiss you both.”

“I mean you did so you obviously can.”

“You know what I mean!”

“Do I?”

“It has to stop.”

“For you? Or for me? Or for Liu? You’re being very vague, Y/N.”

“Are you being purposely frustrating? For all of us, Lao.” You tapped his chest with each word and he laughed. “You have no idea how this is eating me up! I’m so confused. My heart hurts. No more. No more of it.” You weren’t sure how you were going to stand by this declaration when they just went for it so freely but damnit, you were frustrated.

“I guess that’s fair. Only sort of though. How come you get to decide? I’m part of this too.”

“Kung Lao, I swear.”

“Okay! Okay.” He avoided your gaze and his eyes were darting to the side. He was lying? About what?

“What? What’s that look?”

“Uh… ah… what look?”

“I thought you were a good liar, Lao! What’s going on with you?”

“I uh… nothing?” He looked so beyond guilty that you laughed in disbelief.

“Kung Lao? What did you do?”

“That list is way too long to go over right now. We’d be here all week and we have things to do.” He turned away.

“You’re hiding something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N.”

“Why aren’t you mad, Lao? Aren’t you mad that I kissed your best friend? Hell, I kissed your brother and then also kissed you? Shouldn’t you be pissed? Why am I the one that’s angry?” Your voice was very high-pitched and he laughed at you again.

“What’s the point of being angry? I knew that you and Liu were getting close. Everyone knows. You’re obvious. I’m not stupid, Y/N. I just also decided not to give up.” He sighed but still avoided your eyes and kept checking to see if you were buying it or not. What the actual hell?

“I don’t know what you’re lying about or why you’re lying but I know that you’re lying, Lao. And I know that it’s something important.”

“We have so much to do, Y/N. You’re being crazy. Maybe I will stop kissing you.” He teased and you smacked his arm and gasped. He wasn’t taking you seriously! You took calming deep breaths. Now what were you supposed to do? That hadn’t gone at allhow you’d expected it to. It hadn’t helped you get any closer to a decision. It had only further confused you!

“Of course you will. Because I told you to stop.” You mocked him and he looped his arm with yours. “Let’s go say goodbye to these strangers before I really do push you into the lake and just yell about what a big liar you are.”

“As much as I would love to see that, it’s probably the wrong time to make a display of ourselves.”

“Says the man who has done nothing but make a display of himself all damn day.”

“You didn’t seem to be complaining. You didn’t even try to stop me.”

“No one can stop you, Kung Lao. You’ve made that incredibly clear.” You walked with him back to where the others were gathered. Kung Lao was then his usual charming self, chatting and telling the others that you had to go and had called a taxi to pick you up. You did your absolute best not to roll your eyes but you were seething. Why had you thought telling him would change anything? You supposed that you’d expected him to be angry that you had kissed him after also kissing Liu and would tell you to make a choice. But he hadn’t. Why? Was he afraid that you would choose Liu over him? He didn’t seem afraid of what came next like you were. In fact, he seemed like he wanted to drag this out. You were uncomfortable but you decided, in a breath, to let it go.

Whatever he was hiding would be revealed eventually and when it did, you would call him out on it and gladly. And you would kiss whoever you damn well pleased. For now, you just had to keep your head on straight and focus on the task at hand.

He’d kissed you like it was no big deal. The audacity of this man!

You waved at the others and together you walked to where you’d met the bus. Then you snuck around the gate surrounding the shrine and found a place hidden behind a series of rocks to wait and hide. It was what made the most sense. There was nowhere else to hide without being spotted with so many guests still remaining. As far as you had seen, there were no security cameras.

“You still mad?” He whispered after an hour had passed.

“Confused. Not mad.”

“Don’t be confused, Y/N.”

“Okay. Still a little mad. Almost snapped at you again.”

He chuckled and you pouted. He urged his arm around your shoulder and hugged you close. You were still a little mad but his hugs did feel nice. Comforting even. You were so drained. You hadn’t been prepared for the emotional toll this was taking on you. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t even know what you’re sorry for so don’t waste your breath.” You swatted his arm and he swatted your hand back. “I’m confused. That’s all.”

“Clearly. Look, I’m not mad at you. I don’t like that you kissed Liu but you’re figuring things out. That’s fine.”

“But Liu…”

“I can’t say that Liu won’t be mad about it but I mean, maybe that will make him seem less appealing.” He grinned and you groaned in annoyance and smacked his arm again. “It’ll all work out, Y/N.”

“It’ll all work out, Y/N.” You mimicked him and he laughed again. “I can’t believe that I have to sit stewing over this next to you, with your arms around me while we wait to break in there. God, I need something to punch.”

“This has been fun.” Kung Lao decided while trying not to laugh. Fun? You huffed again and then leaned your head back against the stone and closed your eyes. You had to stop the racing thoughts and find a way to be okay with what had just happened. Time would help, you decided.

And it did.

You fell asleep.

[berriusagi]

Stomach Bug Ch4

Afternoon Date

It has been a minute, hasn’t it? Sorry for making you guys wait for the next chapter I hope you like this one too. Love the support and the kind comments.

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Marinette and Damian were lucky when it came to their schedules as their classes ended roughly around the same time; making it easier for them to plan their dates during the week so they could get as much time together as possible. The following days after the announcement at Wayne manor the teens spent as much time around each other as they could. Though they did have to sneak around the family for privacy and keep a low profile to not raise any suspicion from the media.

The perks of having a well-known designer as your significant other made it incredibly easy for them to be able to hide in plain sight. Only proven by the fact both were sitting in a small coffee shop enjoying some pastries and hot chocolate as everyone around them was none the wiser of just who was in their presence.

“I’ll never understand how you do it.” Damian chuckled softly as he sipped on his drink looking around the coffee shop as Marinette just giggled.

“You have a very specific style. It's how people pick you out, change the style and they’ll be none the wiser.” she smiled before leaning in to whisper, “average people aren’t that perceptive that’s how heroes like Superman and the Green Arrow can blend in so easily outside of the costume. They don’t see faces, they see the clothing or anything ‘off’ about them.”

“Makes sense,” he nodded relaxing back in the booth wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she settled in sipping on her hot chocolate, “Is that how you figured me out so quickly? You looked at the face, not the clothes?” he hummed rubbing her arm.

“Actually for the first three months all I did was look at the clothes because they are an affront to fashion.” she giggled, “I get that its tradition but did it have to be so garish? Did you have to use the brightest colors for the darkest and gothic city in America? It’s like you want to get shot,” she said rolling her eyes.

“I think it had more to do with Batman wanting to keep track of a small child in dark alleyways, bright colors stand out more.” Damian chuckled.

Marinette hummed seeming to accept that answer as she finished her pastry and hot chocolate. They fell into a comfortable silence just enjoying each other’s company cuddling together. “It’s getting close to the holidays. Is there anything you or your family want?” she asked.

Damian thought about it for a moment trying to think of anything his family mentioned wanting in the past few weeks. “Hmm, I remember Todd saying something about his leather jacket getting too worn, I think Drake could use a new sweater too. It's looking a bit threadbare. Grayson hasn’t complained about anything specific and since he doesn’t live in the Manor I can’t exactly look through all his clothes. Father and Pennyworth I’m not too sure on.” he said after a long stretch of silence.

“What about you? Anything special you want?” she smiled looking up at him.

“I’ll be happy with whatever it is you choose to give me.” he smiled leaning down to kiss her gently on the forehead, “You’re already giving me the best present,” he added, placing a gentle hand over her belly.

Marinette giggled a soft blush settling across her cheeks; “I would have never pegged you as a sappy dad.” she smiled holding his hand over her belly, “It’s so unlike you.”

He shrugged a soft pink dusting his face, “I’m just excited.” he mumbled.

She smiled softly leaning up to kiss his cheek, “I know you are, how about we head out and can go window shopping at a few stores to get an idea of what all we’ll need.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” he nodded, getting out of the booth taking her hand to help her stand. Once she was on her feet he wrapped an arm loosely around her waist and guided her out of the shop and onto the busy street. They steered clear of any overpopulated areas not wanting to risk anyone recognizing Damian, as well as any alleyways not wanting to mugged or jumped.

They took their time making their way to the shopping district talking quietly to each other about their plans for the following weeks. Marinette was slowly losing her mind with her commissions that seemed to get more and more complicated with less and less time between each to finish. Damian was adamant to claim his brothers were driving him up the wall now that they knew about Marinette making his desire to stab them all that stronger. Though he’d never admit he liked that his family welcomed Marinette so readily.

“What are you hoping for?” Marinette asked as they looked in the shop window at some baby clothes. There were an array of items from over the top frilly dresses full of ruffles and lace to make it obvious to anyone that the child wearing it was meant to be a little princess. While on the other side were little onesies with cheesy sayings and cute art printed on them causing the people passing by to coo and laugh at the phrases pointing them out to their friends and partners.

“A healthy child,” Damian said, hugging her gently to his side, “I don’t care about the gender so long as they are healthy and I have you by my side,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her gently on her cheek.

Marinette blushed though and was smiling brightly as she buried her face into his chest breathing deeply as she soaked up all the warmth and love he was showering her in. “I feel the same,” she mumbled before pulling him away from the clothing store to head into a shop to look at other supplies and furniture they’d need.

They lost hours in the department store as they looked over different strollers, beds, changing tables, anything and everything marketed for a baby. They took their time looking it over and comparing the items until they had a solid idea of just what it was they needed. “I want everything to be neutral in color,” she mumbled as they were looking at some toys.

“Hm?” Damian asked, holding up a green rabbit plush testing how soft it was.

“I don’t want anything too gender-specific you know I don’t want everything pink, as much as I love the color or blue. I think it should be a neutral color or a variety of colors so we’re not forcing our kid in just one color.” She said picking up some blankets gently running her fingers over the soft fleece.

“We could always get everything in robin colors.” Damian joked.

“I will divorce you.” Marinette deadpanned looking up at him.

“Ouch okay no robin colors.” he chuckled, setting the toy rabbit down and hugged her, “we have plenty of time to decide on the colors, but I do agree we won’t use pink or blue it’s been overdone quite a bit.” he nodded.

She nodded as they left the baby aisle and started to head towards the front. Once they were back out on the street the sky was beginning to darken quite a bit. “It’s getting late. I should head home and pack, Mum said she’d bring me by the manor after dinner.”

“I’ll walk you home and make sure the room Pennyworth set up is suitable for you.” he nodded guiding her down the street. “Will you be bringing any of your projects along?” he asked as he helped her cross the street.

“I’ll probably bring the quilt I’m working on and the jacket Uncle Jagged commissioned.” she hummed as they made their way towards her apartment. “I’m almost done with the jacket and I want to get a few more squares done on the quilt before Monday,” she added.

He nodded as they fell into a comfortable silence and continued to walk, keeping close to each other so as not to get separated in the crowds. Once they reached Marinette’s apartment building she pulled away and smiled up at Damian, “I’ll see you after dinner have a safe trip home.” she said getting up on her tippy toes to kiss him.

“You have a nice dinner and pack some warm pajamas. The manor can get a bit drafty at night,” he warned, kissing her back. He smiled and waited until she was inside the building and in the elevator to take her to her floor before he turned on his heels and began to head home.

He was only able to pass a few blocks before ducking into an alleyway and crossed his arms waiting as someone landed behind him. “Really? You tailed us the whole time we were out?” he deadpanned turning to face Nightwing.

Nightwing just crossed his arms looking away with a slight pout, “I just wanted to make sure she was okay.” he said, “you were walking around in broad daylight anyone could have seen you two.”

“You’re lucky she didn’t notice you, how would I have explained why a vigilante was following us? When the sun is up leave us alone if she’s out after dark feel free to tail her if she’s not with me.” he said glaring at him, “She doesn’t need the added stress and doesn’t need to be looking over her shoulder every few blocks because she saw someone following her.”

Nightwing sighed rolling his head, “Fine I won’t but I can’t say anything for the others.” he said before sending up a grapple and whisking himself away.

Damian sighed, rubbing his temples, “They’re going to scare her off I just know it.” he muttered heading out of the alleyway and continued his trek home.

~.~.~.~

“Marigold are you ready?” Ivy asked after cleaning up the kitchen from their dinner. She knocked on the door before opening it slowly as she peered in to see Marinette attempting to shove her sewing machine into her bag. “Marigold I think the sewing machine can stay here.” she chuckled walking in grabbing the machine from her hands and set it back on the table.

“I have projects I need to finish though.” Marinette groaned looking at the fabric squares for the quilt and jacket she had packed in another bag.

“You and I both know all that’s left for the jacket is minor touch-ups. You can hand sew it and you’d been hand sewing that quilt all week so you don’t need the machine.” Ivy said leaning on the desk, “Besides you’re going to be with the Wayne’s for the weekend instead of working on your projects why don’t you take a break and get to know them?”

“I just want to finish Uncle Jagged’s jacket. I already closed down the site and won’t be reopening it until new years. I’ll take a break when all my projects are done and have been shipped out.” she said trying to get around Ivy to get the sewing machine.

“Marigold I said no sewing machine.” Ivy said blocking her, “you shouldn’t be carrying it back and forth anyways. I’m sure you just mentioned in passing you needed a sewing machine while in that manor you’ll have one before the end of the day.”

“Mum! That would be manipulative!” Marinette gasped appalled at her mother’s suggestion.

Ivy sighed, gently taking hold of Marinette’s face and leaned down to be eye level with her, “it’s not manipulative. You could just ask Bruce or Damian if they had one if not and you don’t want to use their money then convince Damian to join you to buy yourself a sewing machine that can stay at the manor.” She said gently, kissing her forehead.

Marinette pouted, bowing her head, “so no sewing machine?” she said eyeing the trusty machine she brought from Paris when she moved.

“��Fraid, not kiddo now finish packing up Harls will be back from walking Bud and Lou any moment then we’re heading over to the manor to drop you off.” Ivy chuckled patting her back as she left the room to let Marinette finish packing for the weekend.

~.~.~.~

The Wayne Manor was in a state of chaos as the occupants prepared for the arrival of their weekend guest. Bruce watched on with a type of exhausted fondness that only a single parent possesses as they watch their children make complete fools of themselves. Beside him was Tim his second youngest who was nursing yet another large mug of coffee the bags under his eyes deeper and darker than the waters of the Mariana Trench. “At least they’re excited?” Bruce muttered watching on as Jason and Dick continued to argue about what they’d learned about Marinette in the last week through means of tailing her and digging up her past.

“They’re going to scare her off.” Damian deadpanned standing beside Bruce on the other side of him watching the two eldest argue looking as if they were going to physically fight.

“No offense but if she didn’t run for the hills after meeting you I think she’ll be able to handle them.” Tim yawned as he took a long drink from his coffee as there was a soft knocking at the door.

Alfred easily walked past the fighting siblings and went right for the front door opening it to reveal the Isley-Quinzels, “Pleasure to see you again Miss. Marinette.” Alfred nodded stepping aside to allow her to enter carrying with her two large bags.

“Sorry to intrude,” Marinette said as Damian rushed overtaking one of her bags off her arm.

“Nonsense you’re always welcome here.” Alfred smiled and looked at the two women, “would you like to come in?”

“Nah we got plans we’ll be back Sunday to pick you up, Marigold.” Harley smiled hugging Marinette, giving her a big kiss on her cheek as Ivy stepped in to give her a kiss and hug goodbye.

“Try to relax this weekend,” Ivy said patting her back, “You lot treat her well or I’ll make you into fertilizer.”

“She’s in good hands Ivy you two have a nice weekend,” Bruce said, nodding his head to the women. Harley and Ivy nodded and blew Marinette a few more kisses before they made their leave after Alfred closed the door.

“I’ll show you to your room Habibti,” Damian said, taking her bags and making a point to ignore his family watching him as he guided Marinette away and up the stairs to the room Alfred prepared for her.

Once they were out of earshot of the rest of the family Marinette looked up at Damian with a raised eyebrow, “You’re not putting me in the room Alfred prepared are you?” she asked following him.

“No, you’ll be in my room so I can keep an eye on you.” He said leaning down to kiss her as he pushed open his bedroom door and carried her bags in. “You need to sleep a reasonable amount and I know you sleep better when you’re warm and this way I can make sure you’re warm.”

“Just say you want to cuddle.” Marinette giggled sitting on his bed as he went about putting her clothes away and setting her sewing projects on his desk. She smiled watching him move with such familiarity as if this was a daily occurrence for them. As she relaxed on the bed a comforting weight settled across her lap. Looking down she saw a tuxedo cat lounging across her legs purring loudly and quite content.

Marinette smiled reaching down and gently started to run her fingers through the fur, “You must be Alfred.” She smiled gently scratching behind the cat's ears. She was so occupied with petting the cat on her lap she barely noticed the weight of another animal climbing onto the bed and curled up behind her. She turned and looked smiling at the large Great Dane she leaned back resting her head on the dog’s side reaching up and started petting him with her free hand, “You must be Titus.” She giggled as Alfred the Cat crawled up to rest on her chest.

Marinette was content to relax on the bed cuddling with the animals when she felt another weight settle on her lap and looked down to see a turkey perched on her legs watching her. “Hello, Jerry.” She giggled, stopping her petting of the cat and dog to reach down and begin gently stroking the turkey’s feathers. She alternated between the three animals trying not to make any feel left out as she pet them soon dozing off from all the warmth and comfort the animals provided.

Damian found her passed out on his bed, one hand resting on Jerry’s back and the other reaching back to scratch Titus’ ears. He huffed out a soft laugh looking over the scene before pulling his phone out quickly taking a picture before shooing Jerry and Alfred off her so he could get her in bed and into a more comfortable position. “Good job everyone,” he whispered to his pets as he took her boots off and gently took her hair out of her pigtails before tucking her into bed.

Once she was comfortably curled up under the blankets he pulled back and laid out some pajamas on the nightstand closest to Marinette in case she woke up long enough to change and set about getting into his pajamas and turned off all the lights before climbing into bed and pulled her to his chest relaxing back. “Good night habibti.” He mumbled, kissing her forehead.

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@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm  @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @raven-frost-21 @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden @zerotosiki @alysrose-starchild @s-and-n @wolf2118 @athena452 @jjmjjktth

[dreadlockholiday]

Stucky Fic Rec List #2

by @dreadlockholiday

Another Rec List, source: my bookmarks.

Note: the FICS ARE ALL COMPLETE, while the SERIES CONTAINS SOME WIPS.

📖 Next Chapter by NachoDiablo - [Explicit; 15k words]

[Modern AU; Actor!Steve x Writer!Bucky; Tumblr Meet-Cute; Identity Porn; Bottom!Bucky]

Bucky’s life is at a bit of a standstill these days as he commits to embracing his inner hermit, brewing the perfect pour-over, and writing popular fanfic for the Avengers movie franchise. When he strikes up a friendship with Steve, the snarky yet earnest fan of his latest fic, he finds himself opening up for the first time in years. Things get more complicated, however, when Bucky realizes that Steve’s more than just an everyday fan of the Avengers. As he and Steve grow closer, Bucky will have to decide whether or not he’s ready to start moving forward again.

🥀 Just Like Before by romanticallyinept - [Explicit; 3,7k words]

[Canon Divergence; Dom!Steve x Sub!Bucky; Misunderstandings; Explicit Sexual Content; Angst with a Happy Ending]

It wasn’t ever something they talked about. Bucky never said, “I gotta let go sometimes,” and Steve never said he’d always be willing to take the reins. But they knew what worked for them, even without the conversations that Steve has read about, the ones that he knows, now, are so damn important.

He tries not to blame himself too much.

✨ Whenever You're Ready by @maddiewritesstucky - [Explicit; 5k words]

[Modern AU; Exes to Lovers; Getting Back Together; Emotional Sex; Love Confessions; Angst With a Happy Ending]

“Oh...”

It’s so soft, the sound Bucky makes. One tiny word, more breath than anything else, yet it somehow holds all the sentiment of 'of course' and 'how have I lived without this', and Steve is ruined for it.

He’s sixteen again, realising that want begins and ends with Bucky Barnes.

He is seventeen, discovering that the only thing better than getting his hands on Bucky, is getting his mouth on him.

He is eighteen, and nineteen, and twenty; bone-deep certain that for him, there will only ever be Bucky.

“Stevie,” Bucky sighs. He reaches gentle fingertips to brush the hair back off Steve’s forehead; traces the stretch of Steve’s lips around him with all the tender wonder of their youth.

...Steve is thirty-nine, and he will never come back from this.

☀️ For the Summer by steebadore, CoraRochester, art by @fadefilter - [Explicit; 44,2k words]

[Modern AU; Rich!Bucky x Carpenter!Steve; Exes to Lovers; Getting Back Together; Bottom!Bucky; Angst With a Happy Ending]

Fifteen years ago, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes had been two teenagers in love, spending sweltering summers in Eagle Inlet, Steve's sleepy lakeside hometown way up in the Adirondacks. Sure, Bucky's rich family only came up in summertime, but they were off to college soon and they'd be together forever, right?

Not quite.

These days, Bucky's back in town for the summer and it turns out, some hurts—and firsts—are hard to get over.

🏆 Inspecting my bruises (I got them trying to save the world) by Dancey96, art by @deisderium - [Explicit; 34,7k words]

[Modern AU; PR Agent!Bucky x Martial Artist!Steve; Enemies to Lovers; Queer Awakening; Bottom!Bucky; Happy Ending]

In the world of mixed martial arts, the Avengers Combat Tournament is the next level of competition where the athletes are the best of the best and the fighting style is almost superhuman. With hopes to succeed in the sport, Steve Rogers is struggling to garner the attention he needs from the press. Enter Bucky Barnes, a public relations agent with no interest in ACT whatsoever, but with a growing fascination for Steve.

💌 14 Valentines by jehans - [Explicit; 18,9k words]

[Shrunkyclunks; Delivery Guy!Bucky; Amputee Bucky; PTSD; Valentine's Day; Love at First Sight; Sub!Bucky; Bottom!Bucky; Rough Sex]

Someone is trying to woo Steve.

Every day in February leading up to Valentine's Day, Steve is sent an expensive, if a bit impersonal, gift from a secret admirer. And while he's less than impressed by this covert attempt to win his heart, he's very impressed by the sweet, funny, and deeply attractive delivery driver who brings these gifts to his door every day.

Bucky is amazing, and Steve is falling for him hard and fast, but each day that goes by is another day closer to Valentine's Day, and the expected end of his secret admirer's gifts. Steve had better figure out soon if Bucky's clear flirtation with him is serious, or if he's just in it for the chase. Because if he's serious, there are Things Steve would like to do...

🍁 On the nights you feel outnumbered, baby, I'll be out there somewhere by JJK - [Explicit; 12k words]

[Canon Divergence; Nomad!Steve x WW2!Bucky x Planet Hulk!Steve; Threesome M/M/M; Bottom!Bucky; Double Penetration]

“One of me’s not enough for you?” Rogers arched an eyebrow to match.

“Well, when there’s two on offer…” Bucky grinned.

=

or, a Nomad Steve / TFA Bucky / Planet Hulk Steve threesome fic

🐺 The Heart of My Own (burn it down low) by @minka-g - [Mature; 16k words]

[Fantasy AU; Shapeshifters; Russian Mythology and Folklore; Mythical Creatures; Mild Horror; Soulmates; Happy Ending]

As a boy of seven, Bucky sat at his babushka’s feet, listening to her croaky old voice talk of fairy tales and prophesies while her lips curled around a lit Laika, the smoke trickling from her nostrils like a tsmok from one of her stories.

His babushka was horror, and she was memory; a lingering link between a world Bucky’s mother hated and one he saw as fantastical and magical. She was the storyteller, the soothsayer and the bringer of Bucky’s dreams.

She also heralded his nightmares.

----

In a deep, dark forest, a city-weary delivery man finds more than he bargained for.

🌱 Into the Sky by Ellessey - [Teen; 3,9k words]

[Canon Divergence; Recovering!Bucky; Hurt/Comfort; Plants; Romantic Fluff]

"Maybe they were just duds," Steve says, his thumb moving gently over Bucky's hand. "We can get some more."

They were magic beans, that's what the package called them. They were supposed to sprout within a week. They were intended for ages five to ninety-five.

Maybe Bucky's just too goddamn old.

--

Bucky has precious little patience with himself (and even less for his horticultural endeavors), but Steve has more than enough to go around.

+ Bonus Series

🔪 Kinktober 2020 by @wayward-lives - [Explicit; 80,2k words]

Prompts filled: Handjob; Eating Out; Thigh Riding; Choking/Spanking; Daddy Kink; Blinfolded; Blowjob; Voyeurism; Accidental Stimulation; Knife Kink; Restraints; Fingering; Public Sex; Sixty-Nine; Size Difference; Toys; Begging; In the Kitchen; Double Penetration; Edging; Phone Sex; In the Shower/Tub; First Time; BDSM/Rough Sex; Caught Masturbating; Overstimulation; Orgy; Praise Kink; Dirty Talk; Mutual Masturbation; Dressed Up.

[jenomark]

Part 5: YangYang, The Rich, Little Asshole

➔Pairing:  YangYang x Reader (Female) | Hendery x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Kun ➔Genre: Smut (+ angst, + fluff, + plot) ➔Warnings: vaginal penetration, fingering, angst ➔Word count: 5,436

➔Summary: You don’t know what you do. You don’t even know who you are. Some would call you a whore. Some would refer to you as a sex worker. All of your clients would say you’re damn good at your job.

MASTERLIST

  Kun leaned against his car and folded his arms against his chest. The wind was picking up, so you pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands and hunched over. No matter what, you wouldn’t wait in his car, like he asked. All Kun wanted was to grill you about who was on the other end of the phone call. 

“You can go home.” you said. “ I don’t need you to wait with me.”

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he said. “But, it’s cold, so we should wait inside your place.”

“No.” you said, knowing that if you waited inside, Kun would try and worm his way back into your good graces, and you would let him.

Kun sighed. “I don’t...know how to fix this.”

  You turned away from him. Any direction that wasn’t Kun’s direction was good enough. You could still feel the clutches of alcohol around your mind, squeezing until it was pulp. You started moving your feet around to keep warm from the chilly night air, but there was an iciness to you that wouldn’t melt. For the most part, ignoring Kun felt good. You liked seeing him waiting on you, maybe a little jealousy creasing the lines on his face. 

 To pass the time, you took out your phone and looked at your messages and emails. A little voice in your brain told you to delete them all. No one would know or care. You could start over tomorrow and regain control of yourself. You could come clean to Lucas, break things off with Kun, give Hendery the apology you know he deserved, and tell men like Ten and Xiaojun that they deserved far better than the likes of you.

 You looked at the plethora of messages from another possible future client you were ignoring. He had been pushing to meet you for weeks. Every message title was the same kind of vibrant greeting, followed by the usual “I don’t usually do this…” You closed your phone and wished you were also the type of person that didn’t do this. What you did, you also didn’t know how to fix.

 You looked at Kun. He wasn’t looking at you. His eyes were on the windows to your place, his face pondering questions you knew you would never answer. 

“I’m moving,” you said. “I’m moving in with Lucas. In a few weeks, you won’t know me anymore.”

Without fully registering what you had said, Kun touched his hand to his heart. “I think I’ll always know you.”

You thought about taking off your shoe and throwing it at him, but violence was never the answer. “You never intended for us to be together, did you?”

Kun shifted from one foot, to the other. “It’s complicated.” 

You shook your head. “I really thought you would, you know? Leave her. Not leave your kids. I knew you weren’t that type of man, and I’d never want you to be. But, Kun, imagining a life with you was too easy. It was too fun, too distracting, too much of a fairy tale.” 

“My feelings were real.” he said. “I’ve meant everything I’ve said up until this point.”

“Were real?”

“Are real.” he corrected himself. “But you won’t let me in. If I knew you were like this, I would have broken it off a long time ago.”

Again, you shook your head. “You have no idea what you want.”

Kun opened his mouth to speak. You didn’t hear what he said, just watched the way his lips told lie after lie.

  Of course he believes he knows what he wants, you thought. He has the right job, the big house, the pretty wife. He’s a father, a friend, and a good son. He’s handsome and good at sex. He knows all the right things to say.

  You stayed silent until a car pulled up. The car was black, not unlike the one that Ten sent your way, and all the ones before and after it. The only difference was the boy hanging out of the window, his arms raised above his head, and his hair flying in the wind.

“Good evening.” he said, his slight German accent making your body perk up. “Your ride is here.”

  YangYang. 20. Self-professed rich, little asshole. Daddy’s money, but not enough of daddy’s love, YangYang liked to dip his fingers into many honey pots. In the beginning, you weren’t sure you could keep up with him sexually, but as it turned out, you could. You and YangYang were purely sex and company, nothing more and nothing less. It was the most straightforward sexual partnership you had.

  Kun looked at the sleek, black car and scowled. He was so sheltered away from your real life, that it was his first taste of the person you were with other men. Judging by his face, he was angry with you, but more angry at himself for being angry in the first place. The wheel of lies would never end, for him or for you.

“Isn’t he a child?” Kun asked, loudly enough for YangYang to hear him over the car's engine.

“Me?” YangYang said, looking mock-offended. “A child? Mind your manners, old man.”

  The car came to a smooth stop and YangYang got out. He was wearing pajamas and a robe. He knew how ridiculous he looked, but he didn’t care. He was what he was. You looked down at the slippers on his feet and smiled. The smile stopped as soon as Kun spoke again, and YangYang noticed your reaction.

“Old man?” Kun asked. “I’m not o-”

“-Is everything okay?” YangYang asked you, not sparing a second look at Kun.

 You nodded. The best thing about YangYang was that he never asked too many questions. If you said you were alright, you were alright. He motioned to the car door hanging open and said, “Your carriage awaits.”

  As soon as you made a start to leave, Kun came from around his car. He sunk down to his knees on the asphalt in front of you. You looked down at him, everything in you wanting so badly to take him into your arms, to forgive him for the night, take him up to your apartment and fall asleep against his body.  It was until you looked at how uninterested YangYang was in Kun that you were faced  with reality.

“Don’t walk out of my life like this,” Kun said. “I’m here begging you, on my knees, on this street in front of everyone. Give me another chance. We can make it more than just sex, I promise.”

“You have a baby on the way.” you said.

YangYang’s eyes widened. “That’s fucked up, bro.”

“Goodbye, Kun.” you said.

  You got in the car and stared straight ahead, not daring to catch Kun’s eyes . YangYang slid in next to you. He didn’t put his hand on your knee. He didn’t kiss you. He didn’t ask you what was going on in your life, or if you were okay. It was something you really liked about YangYang: how little he cared about what went on in other people’s lives. He was the right person to call.

  The only thing YangYang asked about Kun was if he was also a rich asshole and you replied, that no, Kun was just an asshole.

“To my place?” YangYang asked.

“Yes, to your place.”

     YangYang lived by himself in a penthouse apartment with two floors and a view that normally would take your breath away had your heart not been shattered into splintered pieces. A fun, colorful slide ran from the upstairs to the downstairs. There was graffiti art on the walls, splotches of neon colors on formally stark, white walls as a result of YangYang’s boredom. His style of decor was haphazard and typical of a twenty year old boy, in that none of it made any sense. He kept his fridges stocked with energy drinks, and his pantry stocked with more snacks than you had in all of your places combined. It was a much different vibe from all of the other rich men you entertained. Stepping inside of his penthouse made you feel like a child again. There was magic in every corner, but sadly, you felt none of it.

“You know I don’t pry,” YangYang began. “But you look really sad, like a sad dog.”

“Sorry.”

“Can I help with anything?”

You inhaled. You held your breath. When you exhaled, YangYang had moved on from the conversation. You set your phone on his coffee table next to a set of legos. YangYang walked upstairs to where his bedroom was. Through the glass partition, you could still see him. He removed his robe and ruffled his own hair. You turned to look down as a long-haired cat brushed against your leg.

“Hey little man,” you said. “Have you missed me?”

  You and YangYang didn’t meet up that frequently. He was always horny, but he had a large amount of people he went to, so that every need was met. You didn’t know what other things he was into, but his times with you were relatively vanilla.

 The cat meowed at the same time you heard YangYang barreling down his slide. You met him at the end, a playful smile on your lips.

“I really appreciate you coming to get me,” you began. “I know we weren’t scheduled this month.”

“No problem,” he said. “I could use the company. Things can get a little lonely way up in the sky.”

  You never asked why YangYang didn’t have a steady girlfriend. He was cute in a really sweet, younger brother way. You never saw him as a brother figure because that would be pretty gross, but there was something about YangYang that made you very fond and protective of him. 

“Anyway, “ he said. “I can tell you want to get some sleep. I’ll leave you be. You know where my guest room is”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Early. Tons of breakfast. Me and you. Doesn’t that sound perfect?”

“Yeah, it does.” you said, meaning it. 

  Even though you knew his place like the back of your hand, YangYang walked you to the guest bedroom. You and him had fucked in there only once before, but it was always offered to you as a place to get away for awhile. The only reason you never had sex in there much was because the room itself was so plain and formal. You figured the lack of life made YangYang uncomfortable to be in for long periods of time. Beyond the double doors and the slide, and all of these grandiose things he grew up  around, he wasn’t a little, rich asshole. He wasn’t a playboy. He was just Liu YangYang, a lonely boy living in a lonely life.

  You didn’t want to shed any more tears for Kun, or spare another thought about him. Before you went to sleep, you cried by yourself as a way to let go. You tucked your knees to your chest and you let all of the feelings pour out of you, your tears soaking into freshly cleaned sheets. You tossed and turned until the early morning, your night demons coming to haunt you. When you woke, you didn’t feel rejuvenated like you wanted, and Kun was still infiltrating the spaces in your mind you kept for yourself.

 You sat up with a start, too disoriented to understand where you were, at first. Your head was pounding. It might have been normal to sulk in bed for a little while, but you got up and went to the on-suite bathroom to wash up. You pulled your sweatshirt and shirt off until you were in your bra, splashed water on your face, and gave yourself a good look.

“I think you look pretty.”

  You jumped. YangYang was standing in the doorway. He had a fresh pile of clothes in his hands, as if he knew what you were up and doing. 

“I didn’t mean to be a creep.” he said. “There are cameras everywhere, and I thought I might come and see if you needed these.”

  You took the clothes from him and looked at yourself in the mirror after he walked out. He was flattering you. Your make-up and hair were a mess. Your eyes were puffy. You looked like you had been ridden hard and put away wet. 

“I hate this.” you said

  You looked at the clothes YangYang brought: a pair of jeans that looked like they might fit you, one of his t-shirts and a hoodie. Quickly, you put the clothes on, put up your hair using an elastic, and wiped away left behind mascara that was clinging to your lower lashes. You brushed your teeth with your fingers and some toothpaste, and went downstairs. You didn’t use the slide.

   Downstairs, YangYang was leaning against his kitchen counter in a pink apron. The dining room table was full of food that he didn’t cook, pastries of every color and shape, a plate of rolled eggs stacked high, and many more things to satisfy his sweet tooth. You knew he didn’t make any of the food, but seeing him act like he was the chef tickled you.

“A feast fit for a queen.” he said. 

  You sat at the table. You weren’t feeling hungry, and you certainly didn’t feel like a queen. You looked at the food. It was such a wasteful array of things you and him would barely touch, and it made you sad. Your mind was starting to wander as you looked over everything, your eyes beginning to glaze over and replay memories behind them. 

“Ah, that’s never good,” he said. “I know that look. Can I try getting your mind off of him? I could go back and fight him. He looked weak.”

You looked his way. “I wish it were that easy.”

  YangYang was the type of boy who would wear absolutely nothing underneath his apron. He would lead you into the kitchen, put you on top of his counter and take your hand to brush it against the imprint of his cock. Marathon sex would ensue, and some time later, when your limbs were tangled in his, you would let him take you again. But the person before you tore off his apron and was perfectly dressed underneath. He looked tired, like he was dealing with his own personal issues. YangYang came and sat beside you, all the sympathy in the world, and none of the pity in his eyes. 

“We can do whatever you want.” YangYang said. “I could take you for a day out on the town. We could go to an arcade and play claw machines until I’m out of pocket change. I’ll win you a stuffed bear and link my arm with yours, grease from french fries on our fingertips. We could stuff our faces here and pass out on my couch, you with the fuzzy blanket you like, and me with the remote control on my belly. We could pretend to be strangers that just met on the train. I’d sit next to you and tell you about my life. We could be anybody but us for today.”

“Honestly, all of that sounds good.” you said. “Being anyone else but me. ”

YangYang smiled, leaned in and whispered, “ You and me both, but, I quite like you how you are.”

“You might be the only one.”

“I doubt it.”

  YangYang covered his hand over yours. You felt grateful for all the people in your life who tried to make things easier for you. Those people were never forgotten by you. Amongst all of the bad choices you made on your part, there was always someone who was ready to see the best in you. You could see it in YangYang’s eyes, the way he didn’t see some poor girl in love with a married man. He didn’t see the person who had sex for money, or the one cheating and keeping secrets from her boyfriend. He saw you as what you were, and the beauty of what you could be.

“Do I have to choose right now?” you asked.

YangYang pursed his lips. “No. We could just sit here until our asses go numb.”

You laughed. “Okay.”

“We could talk.” YangYang offered. “I know you and I aren’t talkative, but the option is there. I kind of need a friend right now.”

  Making friends in the industry was one of the reasons why you still kept the job, even though you were mostly unhappy. In your loneliness, and in your ugliness, there were still people who wanted to be around you. They wanted your company. They needed your company. They smiled when you came around, and it was genuine, and infectious. On a deeper level, you suspected you were masking all of your real issues by seeing men, by being their fantasy, but you weren’t willing to dive into it too much. 

 So, as a friend to YangYang, you listened to what he had to say. You placed your head on your hands and watched him speak, his youth disappearing with every word. Not once were you lost in your own problems. Not once did you think of Kun, or Lucas, or Hendery. 

“I don’t mean to unload all of my stuff on you,” YangYang said, leaning back in his chair. You noted how much younger he looked when he was done speaking, how much weight was lifted from his shoulders. “It feels good getting it out. That much is true.”

“Good.” you said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give more advice.”

YangYang scrunched his nose. “I don’t think I need it. Just needed someone to listen to me rant.”

  You lifted your head from your hands and looked out at the view from his penthouse windows. You wanted to tell YangYang that you needed him, too, but you didn’t. You felt scared, like your own vulnerability would show itself once YangYang showed his. You shifted in your chair and didn’t look at him again until he called your name.

“You’re too good for him.” he said. “You’re too good for all of them.”

“Mmm, if only that were the truth.”

  You felt the itch as soon as he started speaking. You would rather scratch it with sex to shut YangYang up, to keep him from going further. That’s how your life always worked. You used your body to forget, to shut up the world for one second. You fucked to forgive yourself. It took all you had not to reach out and start something with YangYang that you weren’t feeling, just because you could.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” YangYang asked.

 Expecting the worst, you fought hard to keep the surprise from your face. YangYang saw and laughed, his smile beaming. You found yourself smiling, too, wondering if his line of questioning was normal, because you were already grown up. You thought about the slide and the way he lived his life, and wondered if he still thought he hadn’t. 

“Entertain me.” YangYang said. “An honest answer. Don’t even think about it. If you could be anything right now, right here, what would it be? Money doesn’t matter. Time doesn’t matter. It’s just you and doing something you love.”

“I don’t know.” you said.

“That’s not an answer.”

“But I genuinely don’t know.” you said.

  It was true. Your mind drew a blank. For as long as you could remember, passions were really hard to come by. You weren’t interested in much when you were young. You didn’t have hobbies. You didn’t yearn to go places, or to learn new things. Suddenly, you felt the void in front of you, and it felt cold and empty.

“What about you?” you asked. “What do you want to be?”

  YangYang got up from his chair and walked over to the windows. He gestured out at everything, at the city that curled up at his feet like his cat. You got up and joined him, your eyes penetrating the streets below. He stood behind you and touched your arms. You could feel his breath on your neck. He was hesitant in moving your hair, but he brushed it aside and laid the sweetest kiss on your skin. It was a tender moment that almost made you cry.

“I just want to be kind, I think.” he said softly in your ear. “I want to make a difference. I want to be happy and fulfilled. I think that’s all. I think that’s all there is.”

  YangYang kissed your neck again. You leaned back into his body and watched a bird fly by, soaring through the sky, completely unafraid.  You focused on your own breathing, on the silence that felt too thick with the past.

“Do you ever just want to quit the life you have and run away?” you asked.

“All the time.”

“Would you ever do it?”

“Maybe,” YangYang said. “I’m not sure if anyone would miss me.”

You turned around to face him. “ I would miss you.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.” he said. “Someone would miss me, so I would never do it. Keep myself here forever, perhaps until I’m too old. If you want to run away, I’m not sure it’s always a bad thing. Sometimes you just have to go and see what is out there for yourself. Sometimes you can’t worry about whether someone will miss you or not.”

“You are full of the philosophical today, YangYang.” you said.

“I always am.” he said. “We just never stop fucking long enough to listen.”

You smiled. “I mean, we could still fuck, if you want.”

  He thought about it. Watching him think about it meant the world to you. But there was something about the way it felt with you both standing there that was anything but sexy. The time for fucking had passed, and you could feel the future hurtling towards you. 

YangYang shrugged. “Sometimes you need a good fuck, and sometimes you just need a good hug. Both are good.”

  With that, he held out his arms. You took a step forward and let YangYang hug you. You felt stiff until he started rubbing your back to comfort you. Gradually, you could feel your body and soul softening. You wrapped your arms around him for a long time, thankful that Liu YangYang was anything but a rich, little asshole.

“Where have you been?”

  When you came home, Lucas had come out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist, and his eyes narrowing with suspicion. Your brain created a scenario where you laid it all out in front of him, every lie you’d ever told, and every secret you’d ever kept. Catching him while he was vulnerable and naked could be the easy way out you were looking for. You almost did it, but the way he looked at you began to make you feel angry. It was like you were insignificant, and he was tired and bored of even looking in your direction.

“I was out with a friend.”

“All night?” he asked. “Must have been a good friend.”

  You didn’t say anything, because anything at that moment could have been the truth. Instead, you walked further inside and went over to hug him. You were still riding the high of being around someone as free as YangYang. A part of you wanted to keep the sentiments going, to feel comfort in the life you were living. But Lucas moved away from you, denying your affections. 

“Why were you in my clothes?” he asked. “What were you looking for?”

  You had two seconds to come up with a lie that would sound convincing. When you didn’t, Lucas left the room. You were still standing in the same place when he came back fully dressed. You tried to brace yourself for the end of an era, for the argument that would burn you out for good. You were not prepared for the cold shoulder, or for Lucas taking his keys and walking out of the door.

You: I know you never wanted to hear from me again, but Erase Message You: I’m sorry I hurt everyone. I never meant to hurt you. Erase Message You: Can you come to our place? Send Message

  You sat on the edge of the hotel bed. You swore you could feel your soul being sucked out from your lungs and out through the grate in the wall where the heat should have come out. It was freezing in the room, and dark because of a busted lamp. It wasn’t ideal for someone who already felt as threadbare as the carpet, but it was the one place - the last place- he knew to find you.

  After trying to reach Lucas through message, you had given up. You left the apartment after him and puttered downtown on your own. You had spent a lot of time thinking, watching, waiting. You were trying to recall a feeling other than the numbness you felt. YangYang’s warmth and vibrancy was gone. The hopefulness was slipping away every second you spent sitting on the bed, knees knocked together, and shoes grinding a piece of trash into the carpet.

  You could feel yourself at the end of your rope. You had many choices, and all of them had you quitting your life as a sex worker and searching for a little slice of happiness. You wanted more for yourself, and from yourself. Spinning around in circles, your web of lies keeping you restrained, wasn’t your ideal life. All of those thoughts and more were rummaging around in your brain, when there was a soft knock on the door.

 You weren’t sure he would come. If you were him, you didn’t think you would have made the choice. You got up and answered the door, swinging it open to see him standing there holding a wad of money in his fist, just like the last time you saw him. When he saw your face starting to screw up, Hendery’s eyes got comically wide.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It was just a joke. A poorly timed joke. “

  It wasn’t just the tears. You could feel your legs collapsing underneath you. You felt everything fall when you saw him. Luckily, right on time, Hendery caught you before your knees could buckle. He picked you up and carried you to the bed, his face full of worry.

“What happened?” he asked. He rubbed your head and sat with you in his arms, on the bed. “Did someone hurt you? What is it? Tell me.”

 All of the words wanted to come out, but your mouth was like bumper-to-bumper traffic. You stuttered and felt yourself beginning to whine. You felt ugly that you were reacting in the way you were, but Hendery’s kind eyes began to soothe you.

“It was a stupid joke.” he said. “I’m sorry. I take it back. Please don’t cry.”

“It’s not you.” you managed to say.

  You untangled yourself from his body and sat on the bed beside him. Hendery was inches away from kneeling down on the floor in front of you to look at your face. He kept looking into each of your eyes, his hands holding yours,  moving to rub against your leg, and lastly, going to wipe the tears from your cheeks. 

“Lucas?” he asked.

  You shook your head no. Realizing that you were lying again, you tried a different approach. You moved yourself back on the bed so that you could face him. Taking the first step of honesty felt painful.

“You’re the first person in my life I was ever fully honest with,” you said. “But I still lie to you, too. Doesn’t that make me a bad person?”

“No,” he said. “I lie all the time. I lied when I said I never wanted to see you again.”

  You took Hendery’s hands and held them. “I’m sorry. I should have stopped what we were doing when I knew you were falling in love with me.”

“I wouldn’t want that.”

“I know,” you said. “But it’s what should have happened. I thought I didn’t know why I did it, but I think I do now. It’s not an excuse. I’m not excusing anything I’ve done, but I want you to understand me. You made me feel something, Hendery. You made it easy to distract myself from my shitty life.”

 Hendery leaned in to kiss you. Once you felt him on your lips, you were hungry for more. The long conversation you wanted to have with him was forgotten. You kissed him back and fed yourself. You got up on your knees on the bed with him and held your body against his.

“ I don’t care.” he said. “I just want you. You make me feel it all.”

  You could taste your own salty tears in his kiss. Your mind was so barren of any kind of rational thought, so letting Hendery take off your clothes was easy. You did the same for him, touching his body like it held all of life's answers.  You clung to his sweaty skin. You stretched yourself across the hotel bed, your body eager to be filled with something, anything. 

 Neither of you could stop. Hendery remembered everything you liked. He parted your legs and slipped his fingers inside of you. His eyes never left yours, even as you got on top of him, your hair matted to your face and a wild look in your eyes. 

“Like old times. “ he said.

  You placed your hand over his mouth. He licked your fingers and you smiled. You took him inside of your body, feeling very full. You could still see the love staring back at you, could feel it in the way he trembled as you fucked. You missed him. Each touch brought life back to a memory, like crayons coloring in a page. 

 Looking up at the ceiling made you feel like you were flying through space. You would have welcomed feeling lost, but Hendery pulled you back down to earth again. He sat up, shifting himself so you were riding him in a sitting position. He touched his nose to yours and held your back as you started moving.

  You let yourself go, leaning backwards, feeling Hendery’s strong grip holding you up. His lips were on your collarbone, his tongue leaving trails all on your skin. It wasn’t why you invited him, but you always knew how to make him stay.

  You laid on Henderys chest. Your body was exhausted, your brain even more so. Hendery looked content, like he had been waiting to see you again to feel that ecstasy. You were scared of letting him down again, but you wouldn’t think like that. Besides, after he came, he kept repeating that he knew you could never be together. You were grateful for his effort, but hearing him say it made you a little sad.

“I think I’m going to quit.” you said. “I’m not sure I can keep this up much longer.”

Hendery looked down, his chin doubled. You touched your fingers to his face and laughed. Seeing you smile made him smile. 

“When?” he asked.

  You could hear the hope in his voice. You wished it could rub off on you. You laid back down on his chest, your ear hot against his skin. You didn’t have an answer for him, and even if you did, you weren’t sure it was his to have.

  Hendery got up to go to the bathroom, so you checked your phone. There were no messages from Lucas, none from Ten, none from Xiaojun, and definitely none from Kun. You looked through some of the old messages from possible clients and felt a pull towards them. Their happy, hopeful faces called out to you, begging you not to leave them. 

 You heard Hendery talking to himself in the bathroom and rolled over. You flicked through more clients, coming up on the one from before. His name was WinWin, and he was gorgeous. Too persistent, maybe, but he looked like a sweet man. Before things had gotten too crazy, you were thinking about entertaining the idea of adding on a new client to make things interesting. You clicked on his profile. You opened his messages and thought of something clever to write back. 

 If you were going to quit your job, you might as well have one last hurrah. 

[teawaffles]

It Happened One Night: Chapter 2

The country house Mycroft had introduced them to was a little smaller than the nobles’ mansions they’d been to thus far, but it was an elegant villa, one which exuded a sense of history.

Its exterior was built in the Gothic style, with stone foundations. Planted in the vast gardens was a sea of flora in exquisite colour schemes, delighting the eye of any onlooker. [1]

Of course, the interior didn’t disappoint either: it was richly decorated, with intricately crafted furniture in every room; and hanging from the walls were portraits of the mansion’s owners, as well as landscapes painted by renowned artists. As Sherlock and company were here as guests, they were restricted in the number of rooms allowed for use, but the sheer number of luxury items that greeted them was still far greater than what any ordinary person could ever hope to obtain.

Their lives had literally been turned around.

Turned around…… and yet.

“——Booored……”

In the room he had picked himself, Sherlock looked out the window, gazing at the tranquil garden flooded with gentle sunlight.

It had been three days since they’d moved in, and Sherlock had already grown weary of this lavish lifestyle.

He only took care of the plants in the garden insomuch that they wouldn’t wither, but otherwise he had no interest in the flowers themselves. Moreover, he had already tired of gazing upon the decorations and furniture and paintings in the house. The underground wine cellar aroused some interest, but as an invited guest, helping himself to the liquor as he pleased was evidently a breach of etiquette.

In the end, there wasn’t much to do in this mansion.

As John had suggested, requests from clients were reaching him by mail in the meantime, but they had all been simple cases, solvable just by reading the letters. Couldn’t one difficult case come in sometime? Sherlock sighed heavily as he wrote down the solutions in his replies.

His boredom was plain as day. John, who was seated across him, spoke up in a soft voice.

“Sherlock. We just got tangled up in a big incident a while back, so isn’t it a good thing to take a break for once?”

“Y’know, John, just one day of rest is enough for me. If I don’t get the right level of stimulation, my brain will get all mouldy.”

“What an absurd……”

Just then, the door opened.

“Sherlock, John-kun, I’ve made some tea.”

Miss Hudson walked in bearing a silver tray. On top of it were some nicely baked biscuits, and black tea in teacups with simple designs. As they’d been given permission to use the kitchens, she had been devoting her spare time to baking.

“Thank you, Miss Hudson.”

“Thanks—”

The two of them each took a biscuit from the tray on the table, and munched on it.

“How is it? I’m quite proud of them myself,” she asked.

John nodded in satisfaction.

“It’s very delicious. Right, Sherlock?”

“Oh, it’s good, yeah,” he replied, deadpan.

Miss Hudson shook her head sadly.

“……Well now. If you’re this bored, why don’t you head down to one of the nearby villages? Seeing as there’s such fine weather too.”

Sherlock sent his gaze out the window yet again.

“That’s true……. And if an interesting case pops up, it would be just my luck.”

“Don’t say something so troubling — we’ve worked hard for this peace and quiet.”

John was familiar with Sherlock’s character, but this level of addiction to his work was nothing short of astounding. Miss Hudson, clearly worried by the detective’s words, placed a hand on John’s shoulder.

“John-kun, with Sherlock in this state, I’m worried he’ll get up to no good. Just in case, could you tag along with him?”

“Certainly; leave it to me. It’ll also be a perfect opportunity to get some exercise.”

“What’re you both taking me for……?” Sherlock grumbled — he’d been half-joking, and was surprised to find his words being taken seriously.

Then, with Miss Hudson taking care of the house, the two men set off.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

The Cotswolds was a region 200 kilometres west of London, renowned for its rustic charm, with its rolling hills carpeted in verdant grass.

From where they were, they could see flocks of white sheep and tiny villages dotting the vast green landscape. The village buildings were constructed from limestone: in the northeast of the Cotswolds, it was the colour of honey; in the central region, it was golden-yellow; in the southwest, it turned white instead.

Walking along a path which cut through some pastures, Sherlock and John arrived at the village nearest to the mansion.

A small stream meandered through the village, and built along it was a series of stone houses. It looked right out of a picture book.

Their hearts healed by the idyllic scene before them, the two men headed to the centre of the village, in a bid to find some boredom-busting information. There, they found a two-storey inn. When he noticed that a section of the first floor had been converted into a pub, Sherlock broke into a grin.

“Oi, John. Let’s have a pint to pass the time.”

John shot him a dubious look.

“Sherlock. Drinking during the day isn’t something I approve of.”

“It’ll be fine. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a vacation anyway — why not let loose for a bit?”

“And who was it who said he’d had enough of resting just now……?”

This was a fine example of what it meant to do an about-turn.

But it wasn’t the first time Sherlock had done something on a whim. John reluctantly followed him into the inn.

As expected for a country pub in the daytime, there were only a handful of customers seated quietly inside — it was nothing like the bustle of the city. At the counter was a tall man, who looked like he was running the business alone.

The two men sat at the bar. Sherlock ordered beer, while John chose some light snacks. As their orders were served up, Sherlock took a swig, then directed a question to the owner.

“Hey. Isn’t there anything interesting going on around here?”

At this vague question, the pub owner rubbed his chin.

“Anything interesting, huh. Well there is, but it’s a family matter. Are you two tourists?”

John spoke up. “No, it’s complicated…… For various reasons, we’re staying in the residence of a nearby landowner for the time being.”

“Hmm, so you’re a close friend of this noble?”

“That’s not it either…… This man here is the detective Sherlock Holmes, and I’m his assistant.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of you. So you’re that Holmes. Must’ve been tough comin’ all the way out here.”

It seemed he had little interest in celebrities: hearing Sherlock’s name didn’t stir up much of a reaction.

Sherlock stared into his beer glass.

“By the way, you said something just now about a ‘family matter’?”

It seemed he had remembered what the owner said earlier, about there being something interesting. Then, the owner’s voice turned slightly cheery.

“Actually, my daughter’s in London now, and she’s getting married. She’s bringing her fiancé here the evening after tomorrow. I’ve met him just once before, but he’s a solid chap. I was kinda worried she’d get on with some weird fellow, so I’m relieved.”

“Congratulations — you must be proud.”

At John’s words, the owner rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Thanks. I’m also planning a wedding celebration that night, with some friends from the nearby villages.”

Sherlock hummed in reply. It wasn’t clear if he was interested or not.

“But the second floor is used as an inn, right? Wouldn’t the noise invite complaints?”

“Not to worry: there’s only one person staying upstairs now, and I’ve already gotten his agreement. Anyway, it’s pretty rare for outsiders to come to a small village like this. I still run the inn for formality’s sake, but most of my income comes from this pub.”

“But there is one person here.”

“Yeah, a guy who just arrived a while ago. It seems he’s an obscure painter; he said he wanted a quiet place to concentrate on his art and stimulate his creativity, so he’s rented a room for around ten days.”

That number startled John.

“That’s quite a long stay.”

“The rooms are all empty anyway, so I don’t mind at all. Also, instead of an atelier, well…… can you see it from here?”

The owner pointed at something beyond the window. A little ways from the inn, at the end of a patch of exposed, blackened earth, stood a small shed.

When the two men caught sight of the shed and nodded, the pub owner continued.

“It was originally a stable, but got remodelled into a storage shed. This guy said it was easy to concentrate there, so he moved lots of bulky luggage into the shed via carriage, and now he spends most of his day cooped up inside.”

“Something seems off. What happened to his original belongings?”

“There weren’t many to begin with, so now they’ve been moved to an empty room on the second floor. The others in the village don’t really like him, but he pays his bills on time, so I’ve nothing to say to that. And there weren’t many things in the shed in the first place, so he’s not causing me any trouble.”

Just as the owner finished speaking, the shed door opened, and they saw a man walk out alone.

Sherlock spoke up.

“Is, that the artist?”

“Yeah, his name is Rheos. I think he’s from around France.” [2]

Rheos was a pale, lanky young man dressed in awfully shabby clothes: he truly looked like an artist detached from reality. His shoulder-length hair hid most of his features, but his quick steps revealed the strength in his legs. He was carrying a large, dirty case under his arm.

“…………”

Sherlock stared with inscrutable eyes as he tried to figure out where Rheos was going, but quickly turned back to the barkeep.

“So, is he using this place as a base, and travelling around the area to paint landscapes?”

The owner shook his head.

“I thought so too at first, but apparently he practises by referencing works from famous artists.”

“Hmm, you said earlier that he always coops himself up in that shed. I thought he’d go out during the day if he’s painting scenery.”

“He’s an odd one, that’s for sure. But anyway, I’m the one who took him in, and he hasn’t caused any problems so far. I say it’s up to him where and how he wants to paint. ——By the way, Mr Detective—”

He leaned over to Sherlock a little.

“What is it?”

“From your detective work, I’m sure you’ve seen many strange cases, now haven’t you? If you’re willing, why not tell us about one or two at the dinner party?”

The owner broke into a wide grin, but on the contrary, Sherlock’s face twitched. To be honest, it was simply awkward to attend a complete stranger’s wedding party. Hence he decided to gently turn down the offer.

“……Umm, thank you for the invitation, but——”

“——Hmm? How about it? It’s my precious daughter’s wedding, y’know. I’ll do anything to make things even a little more exciting.”

However, contrary to his expectations, the pub owner seemed adamant that Sherlock regale the guests with stories from his detective work. The strength of his insistence had flustered Sherlock for a moment, but eventually, he clapped his partner’s shoulder beside him.

“In that case, John here can go. After all, he’s witnessed many of the strange things I’ve encountered up close.”

“Huh? What’re you saying, Sherlock!?”

Realising that he was being offered up instead, John panicked. As much as he wanted to congratulate the happy couple on their marriage, he didn’t want to be sent out to speak before a whole bunch of strangers.

“You’re always complaining about this and that — only now do you appreciate me? It’s not fair!”

“No need to be humble. I can personally guarantee your ability as a storyteller.”

“No, hold on just a——”

“——Oh, so you’ll be speaking in place of him, eh?”

Unfortunately for John, the owner had now set his sights on him.

“U-Uh, I……”

John put both hands before him in an effort to convey that he wouldn’t be joining the party, but in the face of the pub owner’s blinding smile, he realised all resistance would only be futile.

“Alright. I shall attend……”

“Thank you. As a further token of my thanks, have some slightly more expensive beer on the house.”

Now in a great mood, the owner took two bottles of beer from the shelves behind him.

Having been forced into speaking in public about their cases — a fine mess indeed — John was downright depressed. Sherlock patted him on the shoulder.

“Sorry. If I were to talk instead, it would just sound like I’m bragging. Do you want to get some practice in while you can?” suggested Sherlock, with a half-smile.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

John shot him a reproachful glare.

Footnotes:

[1] To give you a sense of how the house might look like, here are some examples of Victorian Gothic houses: The Guardian

[2] Rheos (pronounced ray-oh-s) is honestly my best guess at his name… (In the book it’s written as レオス). Rheos is also a real name!

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

I’ll Be Seeing You | Robert Fischer x Reader (Oneshot)

Prompt: Dream

Fandom: Inception

Words: 1354

A/N: Been meaning to write some stuff for some of Cillian Murphy’s characters and had rewatched Inception. I started to think what else that technology could be used for, and this fic came about. I rewrote it twice because I make things complicated on myself and the final result is always the easiest to write.

-

The mind is a complicated maze and there are many that make it a profession to navigate through them. A few, however, go deeper than that. While others interpret and study the mind, thoughts and ideas could also be extracted or planted.

You knew you were in a dream. You were standing at the George Washington bridge, leaning against the railing and watching people come and go. It was a place you went to often as a student when you wanted to think. But, you knew you weren’t physically in New York. You were in a hotel room in London where you had to attend a business meeting.

The last couple of months had been stressful, but hopefully, with the new deal, it would all be worth it. You breathed in deeply, the smell of salt and exhaust would have been filling your nostrils. As you exhaled, you turned to walk back to your old apartment.

Your feet carried you to a familiar part of the neighborhood and you felt a bittersweet taste in your mouth at the sight of it. The mom-and-pop businesses, people jogging, students walking home from school, the art running along the wall. You missed this place.

Once you had gone up to your apartment floor, you saw a familiar figure. Tall and lean man with neatly styled hair and a tailored suit.

“Robert?” you said in surprise. Why was he here?

He turned, those haunting blue eyes greeting you as he smiled. “(Y/n), I was hoping to catch you,” he said.

“Why are you suddenly here?” You walked around him, keys at the ready to open the door.

“You must be thinking of me,” he joked, “Or how else would I be here?”

“I don’t know.”

You opened your apartment door, cautiously letting him in. Since it was your dream, you could always manipulate a few things if it gets out of control. Until then…

“Now, why would I be thinking of you?” you wondered out loud, plopping down in an armchair.

Robert shrugged. “You must’ve missed me.”

“I don’t,” you answered sharply.

He looked around your apartment and sat himself on the couch near you, leaning back as if he owned the place. Your eyes scanned his form, wondering why he had showed up. He looked the same as the last time you saw him, back when he was trying to follow his father’s footsteps. So much had happened since then.

“So, what have you been up to lately?” he asked casually.

You crossed your arms. “You know what it is already.”

Robert huffed out a laugh at your stubbornness. “Humor me, (Y/n/n).”

“You used to hate it when I do. Nothing was funny to mister Robert Fischer, successor of daddy Fischer’s company,” you said sarcastically. “Nothing was right. Nothing was easy. Nothing was ever enough.”

He sighed in defeat, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Look, I’m sorry. There were things I’ve said that I shouldn’t have said. I was angry and stressed and it clouded my thinking. I’m sorry, (Y/n), and you were right to leave me.”

You felt your heart squeezed at his words. It was what you had always wanted to hear from him all these years. After you broke up, you had not spoken to him ever again. You moved away and started your own business that had been gradually thriving.

He stood up, shrugging off his suit jacket and walked over to one of your many bookshelves where you had a couple of picture frames placed. Graduation pictures, birthday polaroids, and a few framed certifications and achievements on the wall next to them.

“I’ve been reading about your business in the news. I’m happy for you,” he said with a genuine smile, pointing at the picture that you took with the starting crew of your business.

“Thank you.”

He moved on to the books that filled the rest of the shelves, running a slender finger over the spines and stopping at the small photo albums. You quickly stood up as he pulled one out that you were sure he was familiar with. He flipped it open and was greeted with a picture of the two of you from college at a bar with your friends doing a pub quiz. He smiled, taking his time at looking at each and every photo that you had foolishly kept. This physical one was still in a storage bin, but it didn’t mean that it no longer existed.

“I miss you,” he whispered, blue eyes flicking towards you as you walked up to him.

You crossed your arms again. “You never called,” you said softly, and hating yourself because of it. Now was not the time to feel small.

He slid the photo album back and turned his body to face you. His eyes roamed your face, as if trying to memorize it, hands slowly rising to grab your arms. Then, he slowly led you towards the middle of the living room, leaving your side to fiddle with the record player that he remembered he had gifted you for your birthday.

Billie Holiday’s voice filled the room as Robert walked back to you, and offered you a hand.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

You laughed, looking away so he wouldn’t see you smile, but it was too late. You relented, taking his hand and allowing him to gather you in his arms. He began to sway with the music, resting his head against yours.

“I miss you so much,” he muttered again into your shoulder.

You sighed, wrapping your arms tightly around him. “I miss you, too. I hate that I do, but I can’t stay mad at you for this long.”

The two of you stayed like that until the song finished. Then, Robert pulled back, holding your face in his hands.

“Come back with me,” he said.

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Wake up,” he said firmly, “Please. Wake up.”

You blinked in confusion. Suddenly, there were flashes of the streets of London. You had gone to have a quick walk to think when it started to rain heavily. The roads were instantly flooded, cars splashing water onto the sidewalks as they drove past.

Non, je ne regrette rien started to play, echoing around the room and seemingly not having any source. Robert looked around, eyes widened in panic.

“Please, come back with me,” he pleaded.

A car turned a corner near you and lost control.

“I… okay. But I don’t understand-” you said as the music grew louder.

You had been frozen in place as the car skidded onto the sidewalk, then…

Darkness.

Robert closed his eyes and you did the same, forcing yourself to wake up.

-

Non, je ne regrette rien was playing softly as you woke up. Your body felt heavy and your limbs were too stiff to move. You blinked, your eyes adjusting to the light as you looked around. White walls, white curtains, white blankets, white bed with metal railings, an IV drip in your arm and a cast on your leg. You were in the hospital.

You heard someone sigh in relief next to you. The music stopped and a thin man with dark hair came into view. The person that was next to you walked up to him and shook his hand.

“Thank you,” he said to the man.

“No problem, Fischer,” the man said. “About time we use this stuff for good.”

“Robert?” you strained to say with your dry throat.

He whipped his head around, showing his disheveled hair and bags under his blue eyes. The man looked between you two and offered a small smile, packing his things and left without a word. Robert rushed to your side, gently picking up your hand as if it might shatter with too much force.

“What happened?” you asked. “How did I-”

Robert shushed you, pressing the button above to call in a nurse. “I’ll explain later, love. You’re back now,” he said, slowly standing up.

“Don’t leave.”

“I won’t. I’ll be nearby. I promise.”

[ariparri]

This drawing was inspired by a story my friend cursedautumn wrote for me as her part of our usual story for art trade.

It's been so long since I've drawn something in this style, I was scared I was going to give up half way through the entire thing. But nope, I was quite ambitious and pulled through 9 hours to finish this piece!

Look at that! It's absolutely beautiful 😭 I can stare at this and be so damn proud of it all day!

Speaking of the story, you can read it here under the cut. Flowers may be my absolute favorite from autumn's stories, but this was just too cute. I just adore the father/daughter dynamic Veruca and Elroy have.

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

His Princess

"Alrighty, I'm leaving." Wilhelmina kissed Elroy on the cheek and took the bag. “I'll be there in the evening, don't wait for me early. I left a list of products that Vera needs to be fed. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"You underestimate me," Elroy growled, jokingly offended. "Veruca will be fine, I'm a fully capable father, Wil. Go and have a good rest, you'll see when you come back, the house will shine, and the child will have the tenth dream." Wilhelmina smiled dryly and rolled her eyes. "You're the same as always. Well, I'm off."

With that, she opened the door and went out. Elroy watched her go for a while until she disappeared behind the fence, then closed the door and took a deep breath. Elroy McQuaid was a father of two children, but, frankly, he had already forgotten what it was like to stay all day with a small child. Coby had grown up a long time ago, now he was at Hogwarts (where, by the way, he recently received an indignant letter from Minerva McGonagall about his son's behavior), and little Veruca did not want to sit still and quickly came up with entertainment for herself: she rolled away from her father, turning over from her back to her stomach, then, on the contrary, crawled up to him and began pulling his hair or stubble. Elroy didn't mind, but he couldn't let his daughter roll around on the floor all day and pinch him! He had to think of something to do. So he picked up Veruca in his arms and spoke,  "What should we do? We're going to play with toys, aren't we, baby?"

"Yes!" Veruca said glibly. She didn't know how to speak yet, but she already knew words like "yes", "not", "ma", "pa" and "Co-i" (that is, Coby). Elroy was infinitely proud of his daughter; Wilhelmina took it much more calmly and even laughed at his constant delight. Elroy was slightly offended: "How can you, Wil? She talks great for her age!", but there were no big quarrels because of this, and he understood that his wife showed love for her daughter in a slightly different way.

As soon as she was in her room, Veruca clung tightly to a wooden box filled to the brim with toys. There were dolls, plush toys, a plastic tea set, with which the baby sometimes gently beat her older brother, several suits with bat wings and many other means of entertainment. Elroy watched in silence as she turned over the wooden box, and sighed to himself: later he would have to take a long and painstaking time to clean up the mess that his daughter had made. But he obediently waited until all the contents of the box were on the floor, and smiled, "Come on, Vera, choose what we will play."

Veruca thought for a while and a soft bat colored so bright it was slowly eating out Elroy's eyes. This bat was given to the McQuaid family by friends a few years ago, and at first Coby played with it, and then it was taken away from him by his younger sister. Veruca took it out at every opportunity and forced the first family member she met to entertain her, holding her in their hands and "butting" the girl with a toy. Elroy didn't have much choice right now. He asked, "Are we going to play this?"

"Yes!" Veruca nodded. She had the same light green eyes as Elroy, like clear, transparent water.

"All right," he agreed. "I'll butt you. Come on…" Suddenly, he quickly grabbed the toy and began to gently poke his daughter in the face. Veruca burst into a ringing childish laugh, trying to grab a bat, and randomly waved her plump hands in the air. Elroy poked the toy first on her cheek, then in her stomach, then in her shoulder, and she laughed and made futile attempts to outwit dad and catch her pet. At that moment, Veruca strangely reminded Elroy of a young Wilhelmina, just as cheerful, laughing happily, not yet so strict and upset by the behavior of her growing son. Actually, Veruca was much more like her father, but there was already something about her that made her obviously the daughter of Wilhelmina McQuaid.

After playing with the bat, Veruca lost interest in it and took up a book of fairy tales written by the bard Beadle. Of course, it was still too early for her to read them, but the bright pictures on the glossy paper attracted the eye, and the baby ran her finger along the pages with genuine interest, looking questioningly at Elroy, as if asking what was depicted here. Most of all, she was interested in pictures of beautiful queens, princesses and sorceresses, women with long hair, dressed in dresses, robes and heavy jewelry. The girl especially liked the drawing of Morgan Le Fay, a tall red-haired woman with light green eyes, in a white dress. Veruca poked at it with her finger and hooted. 

"This, baby, is Morgan Le Fay. She was a very outstanding sorceress, healer and fortune-teller. The sorcerers bewitched people, Vera, they are also wizards, it's just that their magic was different. And Morgan was both a sorceress and a witch. It's complicated, isn't it?" Elroy explained, to which Veruca frowned and turned away, indicating that she was not interested in this topic. She always did this when she did not understand what was being said to her, but she did not want to show her ignorance — it hurts her pride so much!

And even though Veruca was still a very little girl, she had pride. This pleased Elroy: if self-confidence and healthy pride are inherent in a person from childhood, nothing will knock them out of there. So let his daughter be proud. It was better to have pride than not to have it, his sister had once told him, and Elroy completely agreed with her.

Suddenly, his daughter turned over on her stomach and, starting to turn over slowly, rolled in the opposite direction from him. Elroy was so surprised that he didn't even understand what was happening, and he stared at Veruсa with his mouth open for a few seconds, and then he realized that the typical willfulness of the McQuaids had awakened in her, and she decided to try to move herself. Attempts to "escape" have occurred before, but Wilhelmina, with the air of a connoisseur, assured that this is normal and there is no need to interfere with the child's self-development.

"Veruca!" Elroy called out to his daughter.

"Ah!" she answered him and giggled, once again turning over on her stomach. "Vera," the man said more quietly. "Where are you going?" Veruca smiled with an almost toothless mouth and giggled louder. Elroy sighed loudly and got to his feet to put the mischievous girl back in her place.

Suddenly, Veruca reached out with a tiny hand and grabbed the leg of a chair. She tensed, slightly lifting the body and pulling her legs under her.

And then she began to get up — in the literal sense, to get to her feet, holding tightly to the leg of the chair, as if for a handrail, and finally straightened up and stood up, swaying slightly. Elroy froze in mute amazement, joy and disbelief, watching his little daughter, his princess, stand on her feet for the first time, and was afraid to even sigh and break the great moment. This feeling was even brighter than what he had experienced when Coby first got on his feet, much, much brighter, although Elroy did not want to admit it to himself.

It seems that Veruca was afraid of her own independence and the next second fell on the carpet and began to cry. Elroy was at his daughter's side in the blink of an eye and hastily picked her up in his arms, saying affectionately:

"Don't cry, Vera, don't cry, my princess, everything will be fine, you're a good girl. Look, you got up for the first time today, can you imagine?" and he kissed the top of her head, stroking her back. Veruca's crying wasn't caused by pain or anything worse, it's just that she hardly expected such sharp physical progress from herself.

So he patiently calmed her down until the girl stopped crying and wearily buried her face in her father's shirt.

"Do you want to sleep?" Elroy asked gently. "Let's go sit outside. It started raining there, we'll swing in the chair, listen to the weather…"

They did just that. Elroy went out onto the terrace. There he sat down in a wicker rocking chair with Veruca in his arms and was quiet; a summer downpour was really rustling on the green street and in the garden. The storm swelled over the McQuaid estate, rallying in the sky in a dense purple wall, ready to crack and burst into lightning. But while there were no loud noises, Elroy held the sleeping Veruca, wrapped in a plump purple blanket with a bat's face, in his arms and looked at the blooming garden. There was an unusual calmness in his soul, although, in general, there was no cause for alarm; nevertheless, such satisfaction in his soul had not been for a long time-maybe because he was the father of two children, the eldest of whom was now supplying his school with problems, and the youngest was still very small and helpless, like a porcelain doll. They had to look after both of them, and it was difficult for him and Wilhelmina. Very difficult.

Elroy kissed the top of Veruca's head as she dozed off. No, he was grateful to his wife, Providence, and himself a million times for his daughter, because since his youth his dream was to have a daughter, his little princess, just like from fairy tales. As a child, he saw how carefully his father treats his sister, and just dreamed of doing the same.

And now he had Veruca.

His little girl.

His princess.

Elroy wrapped his daughter more tightly in the blanket and began to doze a little himself. The storm did not break out with thunder and lightning, only the rain began to rustle more loudly, and somewhere on the horizon a rainbow began to appear, as if the sky was watching the father and daughter and letting a bright ray through the summer rainy haze.

The rainbow was flaring up. Elroy and Veruca were sleeping peacefully.