#look jean is very stoic and well spoken there's no denying that

[problemduetest4life]

Headcanon that Jean does not know how to tell a story. He doesn't do it a lot, but whenever he does indulge the Trojan's questions he makes about a dozen segways and brings up points that don't matter. The Trojan's are excited to hear more tidbits about his life so they never complain though...

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

M-more armin vs eren drabbles please

WC: 3.2k

Title: Melted Candles

Warnings: possessive behavior, cheating, armin x reader x eren, obsession, unhealthy relationships. manipulator armin & toxic eren.

You’re fidgeting with the hem of your short dress that your loving boyfriend bought you, nursing a drink, and half-heartedly scrolling through your phone.

Sitting on the olive couch alone as the musings of a party transpire, you eye the big and colorful banner sporting the words “Happy 20th Birthday Eren!”.

“It’s like Eren to be late to his own birthday party huh?”

A smooth, gentle voice breaks you out of your trance. You turn sideways to face Armin Arlert, a pretty boy with short-cropped blond hair and wide oceanic eyes. He’s all dressed up in a deep grey turtleneck, navy dress pants, and an expensive Omega watch on his wrist.

You must have looked frightened because he chuckles as he takes a seat next to you, a respectful distance away, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. Are you having fun?”

“Uh well it’s a surprise party, it’s not like Eren knows he’s supposed to be here.” You have an immediate desire to slap a hand over your mouth after the words spillover. You wince, not entirely in love with the fact that it was your first instinct to defend Eren.

If you had been more observant, you would have noticed the corners of his lips flick upwards in amusement. But Armin is observant enough for the both of you. He notes the color of embarrassment in your cheeks and continues the subject with ease.

“Ah, yeah. That’s right. Eren hates celebrating his birthday, but they're always a good excuse to get everyone together" He pauses before grinning so wide it doesn't look genuine, "-maybe this is more for us than him.”.

There’s an underlying tension in his words you can’t make heads and tails off. It reminds you of how truly little you knew of Eren's very own best friend.

You smile brightly, channeling all the optimism you could into changing the topic: “Everyone’s trying their best today! Sasha did all the catering and managed to leave the cake perfectly alone even though it’s her favorite flavor. She has the patience of a saint today.”

As if on cue, there’s a commotion in the background. Jean yells at Sasha, “Don’t finish all the lemon-pepper wings Potato Girl!”

Armin laughs and it's a pretty sound, a sound that reminds you of a bell chime. Unconsciously, he shifts closer to you, knees knocking into yours.

“Yeah, you’re right. Connie's even hosting it, and he let us decorate his man cave."

You look at the streamers and balloons, and Armin follows your eyes.

“You did a great job decorating.”

You blush, “It was honestly a team effort. Mikasa did way more, I promise.”

“So humble”, he teased. As he smooths his slacks, your eyes can’t help but fall on the shine of the silver band on his slender finger, an engagement ring.

“Annie couldn’t make it today?” There’s a flash of a grimace on his face but he schools his features right away.

“She doesn’t really like parties,” he laughs softly, “She’s like Eren in that way.”

“Oh,” you paused. He was clearly hiding something but it wasn’t in your place to pry. You didn’t know much about Annie. In fact, you were a little intimidated by her icy demeanor and arctic eyes. It amused you at first when you learned she was Armin’s partner.

Opposites must attract, because where Annie was the cold seeping into your bones, Armin was a furnace radiating warmth.

There wasn’t much more to say with the conversation heading to a peaceful silence, until his arms lightly touch yours, “I’m really glad you came.”

His fingertips graze the sleeve of your dress.

You flush, “Well, I wouldn’t be a very good girlfriend if I didn't come to his birthday party.”

The pretty blond clicks his tongue, “I suppose.” He inhales, thumbs swiping the rim of his glass, “You’re too good for him. Do you know that?”

To say you were surprised would be an understatement. You don’t have a response ready but Armin continues, “I love Eren of course. Been friends with him since we were children but-” Deep sigh, “I feel like I barely know him anymore. No one knows him anymore.”

In a small voice, you squeak “I do.” But the unsureness of your tone made your words seem like it was a question.

Armin smiles, one that’s filled with mirth.

Boldly, he squeezes your thigh, the flesh right below where your dress ends, “You deserve better.” His oceanic eyes seem darker under the dim lighting.

Why weren’t you moving away? Were you letting his hand itch closer to roaming the softness underneath silky fabric?

You swivel your head around, praying no one is seeing anything. Thankfully everyone was too swept up in their own conversations. As if to soothe you, his hands draw circles on the soft pliant skin, “Don’t worry, no one can see us.”

The ring glints harshly. Admittedly, Eren’s soft-spoken best friend is just a little attractive. You didn’t always think to see him this way, but Armin changed, and all the general anxiety he possessed matured into a quiet confidence.

He reminds you of Eren in that way. But still, you're at crossroads here. Is Armin making a move on you? Is he warning you? Should you even be here right n-

Your internal monologue is interrupted by Mikasa clapping her hands, and then putting a finger on her lips, “We’re going to turn off the lights, ok? They’ll be here in a few minutes. When Eren starts coming in, yell surprise.” Armin hand’s leave your legs, the warmth gone.

“Oy, oy, oy. Don’t we need a signal?” Connie asks, confusion apparent on his face.

“Jesus Connie, if you can’t even figure this out, what are we going to do with you?” quips Jean.

Mikasa shakes her head.

Sasha lightly punches her best friend, “It’s okay Coomer, just follow my lead.”

“How will that work since you’re stupider than me?” The hazel eyed boy asks, voice dripping in concern. “Eh?” Sasha replies with an equally concerned tone.

Mikasa pinches the bridge of her nose, “I’m going to turn the light off now.”

Eren would be here soon. You barely register Armin putting his arm around the couch, not around you per se, but the proximity was close enough to send your heart racing.

In the switch of a light, the room was engulfed in darkness and excited giggles that Mikasa promptly hushed. And then was just the sound of breathing. You could hear yours and you could hear Armin’s.

Softly, the blond uttered, “I’m going to do something I’ve always wanted to do.” You could feel featherlight fingers tilting your jaw, and capturing your pillowy lips.

The doorknob rattled. Soon after, light from the hallway trickled in. A still moment. As soon as the kiss started, it ended. A flash of light exploded before your eyes and a cacophony of people yelling Surprise! rang out.

At the center of attention was Eren Yeager, who...did not look surprised at all. His eyes were not even adjusting to the light the way yours was. A tall redhead accompanied him, someone who you vaguely recognize as Floch.

The birthday boy was clad in a white button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows and the top button was unfastened. His dress pants were slim-fitting and black.

The green-eyed boy’s face was devoid of expression. In comparison to his stoic nature, you thought your heart was going to explode.

Wryly Armin says, “Oh look, your boyfriend has arrived.” As if on cue, Eren’s eyes locked with yours.

At that moment, there were too many things to process.

Luckily, Eren was surrounded by a small crowd of his closest friends. You could hear Jean cackle, “Come on! You’re not even surprised.”

You turned your head to face the boy who took advantage of the darkness, a scarlet blush staining your face, “Why did you-?!”

He gazed at you with shining eyes like he had found clarity, not even bothering to feign guilt. With agility only he had, he took your palm in his, “I know you used to like me.”

Blood rushing in your ears, you tear your hands “What are you doing? Eren’s right there. Don’t touch me.” You hissed, scooting away for good measure.

“You didn’t deny what I said.” The blond pointed out calmly, “Yeager is no good for you. He keeps you in the dark about his life and he’s certainly not loyal..”

“I-I can’t deal with this. I never expected this from you Armin.” You shot up from the couch, trepidation filling your nerves, “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to greet my boyfriend.” You uttered the last word with as much hostility you could muster.

Mikasa had her arms wrapped around Eren. Which was fine. They’re best friends. They’ve known each other far longer than you knew him. He thinks of her as a sister.

He thinks of her as a sister.

You walked over, looming behind them. Most of the crowd had dispersed, with only Eren and the Ackerman girl lost in their own world.

What is wrong with you? You scold yourself. You didn’t usually think like this.

“[Y/N]”

Eren noticed you right away, and Mikasa turned around to face you.

“Sorry [y/n], didn’t mean to take so much of his time from you.” The dark-haired girl smiled apologetically.

You could feel guilt gnaw at you, how could you ever suspect her? She waved to Eren, and warmly thanked you, “You did so much of the planning. Thank you.” And before you could reply, she left.

That left you alone with the man himself. “Hi.” You said shyly. He smirked, “Hi babe. Long time no see huh.”

His viridian eyes slowly roamed your appearance, head to toe. You blushed under his stare as they paused longer than necessary on the dip of your neckline, and the expanse of legs not covered by the silk dress.

“So you did all this?” He teased, vaguely gesturing to the string lights, and hanging paper flowers.

He steps closer to you until he’s just a breath away. “Hardly. Just helped out wherever I could.” You whisper.

He hugs you, his tall frame enveloping yours. You feel so safe, pressed against his chest, as his arms compass the slight of your back.

His cologne is your favorite. Subtle, and intoxicating with thick notes of spice. You sniff something else, something overpoweringly distinct.

Still enclosed in his arms, you look up to him, “Did you drink?”

He takes a step back, still wrapping an arm to your waist, “I met up with Zeke. He offered me a drink.”

“Zeke?” You questioned, “You visited your brother?”

Eren was privy to sharing details about his life and you knew virtually next to nothing about Zeke, his half-brother he came recently in contact with.

He kisses the top of your head, and you can feel the loose strands that escaped his bun tickle your face, “It’s nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”

He keeps you in the dark about his life.

“You were cozying up with Armin on that couch, weren’t you?” His tone is light, containing a thinly veiled accusation.

You laugh it off, hoping he wouldn’t notice how tense you suddenly got, “No, no. We were just talking. I was sure I was going to kill myself out of boredom just waiting for you.”

Snuggling closer to him, you stand on your tippy-toes to kiss his jawline, trying to distract him from wavering thoughts.

“Oh?” He asked, “Armin wasn’t entertaining you well enough? Well, he does have a tendency to babble about nothing.”

As he talked, you had a feeling he wasn’t really looking at you, but rather peering straight behind you.

An uneasy feeling fills your lungs, “Um Eren, let’s head to the kitchen. I can fix you a plate. Niccolo did the catering so you know it’ll be really good-”

The tall boy waved your suggestion away, “Not hungry. In fact, why don’t we head over to my best friend? I haven’t talked to him in a while.” You didn't appreciate the mocking lilt in his tone.

Before you could dissuade him, he was already pulling your wrist so you could turn, hand placed on the small of your back, leading you somewhere you definitely did not want to go.

The charming blond was still situated on the couch but this time joined by a woman who was talking rather animatedly. You vaguely recognized her by her chin-length wavy ash-colored locks. Hitch.

“-Annie is so lucky! Jesus, I can’t believe you guys are engaged! And Marlowe still hasn’t worked up the nerve to-”

Eren coughed, asserting his presence. Two pairs of eyes flitted upwards. Hitch sighed dramatically, “Well if it isn’t the birthday boy. The big 2-0. You’re not a teen anymore Yeager. Think you’re ready for the adult world?”

Your boyfriend, who was never one for false pretenses and small talk, ignored her question entirely, “Hello Hitch. If you don’t mind, I would like to catch up with Armin here.”

The woman rolled her eyes, “Guess that’s my cue to leave.” As she stood up, she looked back and forth between the boys, noting the animosity that seemed to permeate the air as they burned holes into each other.

“Why are the vibes so tense? The energies you two are radiating...is reminiscent of a pissing contest”

Without really intending to, you let out a chuckle, attracting the attention of the three people around you.

Hitch’s eyes softened, “[Y/n], I haven’t seen you in a minute. Let’s go do shots with Mina and Hanna.”

Eren’s grip on you tightened, “She’s staying right here Hitch. Enjoy yourself though”

“Funny, I don’t recall asking you. Your girlfriend can’t speak for herself?”

“Uhm, thanks for the offer Hitch but no thank you, I’m not really in the mood to drink right now.” You chuckle nervously, flashing a big enough smile that will ascertain that everything is okay.

Hitch shrugs, “Suit yourself”, and proceeds to walk away.

“Well, I suppose I have to thank you for driving her away. She’s quite...talkative.” Armin breaks the silence. He addresses you both but his eyes are trained on you, “Back already [y/n]?” An easy smile spreads across his face.

You don't look at Eren’s face to gauge his reaction, but you notice how the hand around your waist squeezes almost painfully. The boys stand up to shake hands. Armin gestures for the two of you to sit but the dark-haired boy waves it away, “We prefer to stand.”

The blond gazes between the two of you questioningly but seemingly accept Eren’s response, “Okay then. Guess I’ll stand too.”

“Where’s Annie? Trouble brewing in paradise?”

Armin’s smile hardens, “Don’t know how you’d assume that. She’s just not here.”

Unease pinpricks at you. You could feel trepidation in the air.

“What a shame. Doesn’t Annie like me?” Eren taunts before delivering a line you didn’t expect, “I recall a time where she liked me much more than you actually.”

Surprise is an understatement for how you feel. You didn’t even want to register the implication of his statement. Did Eren and Annie have a past? You lightly touch Eren’s arm in a hint of a warning, “Eren-”

The blond shakes his head, “You’re really something else, you know? Talking about another woman so brazenly in front of your girlfriend? Are you projecting your insecurity onto me since you know” he tilts his head in your direction, “[y/n] liked me first?”

You fluster immediately, jaw-dropping slightly. It was true. You did have a rather big crush on the intelligent blond boy who sat next to you in a class that bored you to sleep. But there was nothing between you two beyond a handful of platonic study dates from when you were freshmen!

Too many moving variables. He was dating Annie and not being the homewrecker type, tried to squash the interest you had. Besides, you were planning to drop that class anyways, and in a twist of fate, it was Armin who had inadvertently introduced you to Eren.

Also, how did that damn Arlert know and why was he bringing it up today of all days?!

Your boyfriend sneers, “Does that really matter when she’s with me? When she’s dating me. And. Not. You.” He punctures the last words out.

“Uhm, I’m right here-” You finally find your voice, “And I’m not really comfortable with being discussed like this.”

Armin’s eyes find yours, “Of course. Sorry [Y/n]. It’s super disrespectful of me-”

Eren cuts in with words heavier than bullets, “Shut the fuck up. Always desperate to play the white knight in shining armor aren’t you? Your duplicity makes me sick.”

As if sensing an oncoming attack, Eren pivots away from you, creating some distance.

Armin closes the gap between himself and the dark-haired boy and bunches Eren’s collar in his fist, “You don’t know how to treat people, you know that? So full of yourself that you think basic decency has an ulterior motive.”

Eren’s eyes dance with mirth, “There’s always an ulterior motive with you, isn’t there though?”. He forcefully shoves his friend, sending Armin stumbling a few steps backward, “You really like pretending you’re one of the good guys when your hands are blood-stained like the rest of us.

You can hear the blood rushing in your ear and you attempt to get in the middle of the impending conflict but Eren grabs your arm with a painful force. He growls,“Step back”. You obey.

“Don’t touch her touch like that.” Armin snarls.

“She’s my fucking girlfriend. I’ll touch her however I want. By the way, just because your little fiance is giving you a hard time doesn’t give you the right to leer at what’s mine.”

At this point you realize you come to your senses, and you leave the area quickly to get help. You scan the area around looking for Mikasa. She’s reliable and always knows what to do. You try to calm your panicked heart.

Gaining speed, you nearly fall by running into someone in the long hallway. Thankfully, the good samaritan is able to catch you in time, holding your shoulders in a firm but comforting grip.

You look up, eager to thank the man who caught you. Mullet. Tall. Slight scruff at the chin. You recognize him right away.

“Woah y/n, what are you running for?” He asks in amusement but one look at your teary eyes has him instantly concerned, “Hey, hey. Are you okay?”

“I-uh,” You’re blubbering, “Armin and Eren are acting kinda strange--I think Mikasa should calm them down.”

Jean’s eyebrows are furrowed, “Strange how? She stepped out so she’s not here right now.” You bite your lips, wondering how you were going to explain the situation.

Jean grabs your shoulder, “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll settle this. Can you take me to them?”

You nod, supremely grateful to have Jean in your corner. As you guys take a turn to the living room, you hear the excruciating sound of glass breaking. “Shit!” Jean curses.

In the middle of the living room stood Eren and Armin like centerpieces, beating the ever-living shit out of each other. You couldn’t see much beyond the fact Armin was throwing punches left and right, landing some but Eren was able to dodge most.

As you move to run forward, Jean grabs you, “No. Stop. There’s glass everywhere. You’re going to get hurt.”

You’re incredulous, “I can’t just let them hurt each other!”

Jean merely looks at you with a look of pity,

[buttercup-of-kaer-morhen]

Magic and Exams: A magical College AU

I wrote a little a little drabble for my Geraskier magical college AU that has been stuck in my head.

Main tags: college AU, it's modern but with magic slapped in, Non human Jaskier, And they were room mates~, pure fluff, pre relationship, pining... Kinda, unbetaed, we die like Renfri

---------

    Jaskier huffed as he rifled through the pile of clothes he had on his bed, stuffing only a few articles into the large pack he was trying to fit everything in. He had finally wheedled his dorm mate into letting him go on one of the infamous weekend camping trips that his roomie was always secreting away to. For as long as he had been bunking with the man, Geralt would hike up a mountain or hill in the vast forest preserve that was conveniently by the campus-- which is probably why they had so many Environment and Monster Studies Majors now that he thought about it-- whenever he had a weekend that had a holiday or a day of cancelled classes attached to the weekend. The musician had literally come into the dorm to find Geralt suddenly packing on a friday morning because he got emails that his classes cancelled for the day. Now usually, one of his frat brothers-- Jaskier still didn’t get confirmation if they were his real brothers or not, which was weird cause his group usually could find out anything-- Eskel or Lambert would go with the witcher but both were busy this time around and Jaskier did not let the opportunity slip through his fingers!

 

    The thing is, as much as he pestered the Monster Studies major into bringing him along… Jaskier had maybe, kinda, never actually gone camping or hiking before in his life. Well, unless you counted the nights holed up in a pillow fort in the living room with Yenn under copious amounts of blankets and pillows or sleeping in the backyard in a hammock under the stars with his sister Renfri. He was going to guess Geralt was not one who would though. So he was quickly trying to figure out what to bring before shoving it in the bag specifically made for this-- he was unaware those existed-- which he borrowed from Renfri. She had always been the better scout when they were younger and actually stuck with it unlike Jaskier who opted out for more fun, indoor activities much to the displeasure of his father. She also did him the kindness of also filling the bag with the actual “essentials” as she called them, he was just adding anything he may want personally and his clothing. Thankfully, he knew exactly what to wear from the many magazines, movies, and such that he had seen. He had already put one such outfit on before he started his attempt at packing, that way he’d just be able to get up and run out the door as soon as Geralt arrived. He was almost done too and feeling rather satisfied! He had clothes, a battery pack for his phone, his notebook, and a few textbooks he may or maynot get around to reading for class while they were out there. 

    Just as he was closing up the pack, the very man he was about ready to go look for, stepped into the room. “Ah, Geralt! I’m just about ready!” He said brightly, beaming at the stoic individual who was currently looking him up and down critically, as if he were appraising the slightly smaller man. It sent a small spark of excitement through Jaskier, knowing he’d impress the other with his knowledge and fashion. He knew he looked damned good for this fall excursion, well as good as lumberjack apparel could, and he was giddy to get the other’s approval.

    “Stop messing around. Put on real pants Jaskier.” Was the gruff reply he received as Geralt stooped by the bed on his side of the room and pulled his pre-packed bag out from underneath. No compliment. No other words of any kind! Nothing!

    Jaskier practically sputtered in offense as he exaggeratedly rolled his eyes and threw his hands out wide. “W-what!? These are real pants! Have you never looked in a magazine much less gone into a clothing store before? Well obviously not, what with the broody biker/mountain man aesthetic you have going on, but really?” He argued, trying to hide how deflated he felt just from the one comment. The man had a real talent for stealing the wind from his wings with one clipped sentence, the filling-less pie comment still haunted his dreams. Worry was slowly filling him about everything else now too, from what he packed to whether he’d only be a bother on the trip. 

    Geralt stood back up, slinging his own absurdly large bag onto his back and rolled his eyes. “No, those are a second skin. They make your ass look great but are worthless for anything else. For Melitele’s sake, they don’t even have real front pockets Jaskier.” Geralt explained with a put upon sigh as if the article of clothing were the bane of his existence. He at least didn’t sound frustrated or exhausted yet, so Jaskier was counting that as a win!

    “These ones do!” He exclaimed excitedly, not really in defense of the garment but in actual genuine thrill, as he shoved as much of his hands as he could into the front pockets. It was just his fingers but it was something and it was one of the reasons he had got that pair. Then his distracted thoughts took a left turn and crashed as he remembered the other thing the man had said. “You think my ass looks good?” He asked, genuinely stunned. 

    Geralt gave him a look and, ah, there was the irritation. “Sweating. Chafing. Itching. No protection against anything like thorns or brambles or anything at all really.” Geralt listed each one, counting on his fingers visibly to punctuate his words. “I’m not going an entire weekend with you complaining because you chose fashion over practicality.” He growled lowly, which had no right making Jaskier nearly swoon from how hot it made Geralt’s voice, as he tried to get the musician to understand what he was saying. Now Jaskier knew that Geralt was right after laying out all of the faults in his choice of trousers but, you see, if he were to admit that he only owned skinny jeans, booty shorts-- those were a gift--, and a pair of fluffy unicorn PJ shorts-- again, a gift from Yenn-- then Geralt would definitely know he had never done anything like this before. “You’ve never gone camping or hiking before have you?” Geralt asked in his weird way that wasn’t actually asking but rather was a statement, as he eyed Jaskier’s bag. Before Jaskier could stop him, Geralt was already pawing through the contents.

    “Whaaaaaaaaaat?! Noooooooooo- How could you- Don’t be abs- Ok, alright fine. Yes…” The half-human sputtered, trying to deny the accurate accusation but the jig was up. Jaskier had wanted to keep up the charade but knew when to give up  the goat-- the metaphorical kind, not the one Eskel owned and was currently hiding in the frat house-- even if it meant he’d be barred from going on the trip now. He had really been looking forward to the trip and getting to know Geralt better. He couldn’t bring himself to meet the witcher’s eye now that his lie was caught… That and he didn’t want to cry in front of the man because he had to look into his crushes eyes which would only hold ire or disappointment from Jaskier not telling him the truth from the start. There was an awkward silence for a few minutes before Geralt was suddenly speaking.

    “This was terribly packed and you made a good call on the flannel and knit cap. It’s going to be colder than normal because we’re in fall…” Geralt offered as he began repacking for Jaskier. The musician’s head snapped up at the comment and he watched the other work curiously, as a flicker of hope filled him. “Do you own anything besides those sorry excuse of jeans?” Jaskier opened his mouth to reply but stopped as the other shook his head without actually looking up. “Actually, don’t answer that. We’ll stop by somewhere and grab you some real pants on the way. I’m also going to hazard a guess and say you don’t have hiking boots so wear your old converse and we’ll pick up a new pair along with the jeans.” This was the most Gralt had ever spoken to the Multi-Minor student at one single go and he decided to see how far this role would continue on. “You won’t be able to wear them this time but you  can at least start breaking them in as soon as we get back. Just wear them to class for a while and you’ll be good for next time.” Geralt grumbled, mostly to himself as he planned out what they had to do before making it to their destination, as Jaskier’s brain tried to catch up. He was practically beaming at the witcher by the time he had lapsed back into his usual silence. The musician practically tackled the larger man, who easily caught him in confusion. Not only did he get to go on this trip, but there were future trips from the way Geralt was talking. 

    “So, I can still come with?!” He asked excitedly, wanting to confirm it anyway as the anxiety still lingered slightly. It just seemed too good to be true!

    “Yes? Why not? Just cause it’s your first time, doesn’t mean I’m just going to ditch you…” The witcher said genuinely, a small frown on his face at the implication that he would just suddenly leave the other behind. “Besides, someone has to teach you the ropes and keep you from killing yourself accidentally.” The man half teased as his frown turned into a slight smirk. Jaskier would have been offended if he wasn’t so happy right then. He wanted to squeal in joy but refrained for the sake of his roomie/crush’s sensitive ears. He also really wanted to kiss the man if it wouldn’t have crossed a line and ruined the whole thing but oh well, he’d have to just try to squash the urge. “Also, are you going to bring your wolf?” The man’s sudden question snapped Jaskier back to reality again.

    “You mean Wolf? My dog?” Jaskier asked, incredulously with a roll of his eyes. They had had this particular back and forth frequently since the day he had snuck his dog onto campus and into their dorm to stay. Geralt didn’t ask questions, only worked with him and helped hide the large pooch so that the DAs wouldn’t find either of their pets that they were living with together. It was an unspoken agreement to look out for one another between the four living in the small room. Hiding a pet from campus officials was like  practically a sport for their friend group now anyway. It wasn’t just them watching each other's backs either really. It was a pact amongst them all to pitch in and help if needed. 

    Geralt snorted a laugh of disbelief as he shook his head. “It’s a wolf.” He stated matter of factly and Jaskier just could not understand why everyone insisted that his lovely beautiful Wolf that he found abandoned on the side of the road was a wolf.

    “He’s a dog! Also, is Roach coming? I know she’s a horse originally but with the spell you got from Triss to make her appear as a cat, does she like, I dunno, need to deal with horse things or stretch her legs. Metaphorically speaking or… I guess literally too? Can she even change back into a horse at will?” Jaskier tried to divert the argument, nipping it in the butt before it could really start, but ended up rambling. Jaskier was never really given details on the whole weird adventure of sneaking the man’s horse in and disguising it as a cat.

    Geralt gave him an amused look as he cocked his head to the side. “...Yes, no, and yes?” He offered, sounding unsure of what he was confirming and denying. “She comes with for the fresh air but she doesn’t need to. She’s perfectly fine in either shape. Also she can turn back into a horse but doesn’t want to most of the time.” He clarified and Jaskier nodded.

    “Alrighty then… Sure, we should probably bring Wolf along. He’d most likely enjoy the exercise and we won’t have to rely on anyone keeping an eye on him or the DAs.” Jaskier relented. Besides, it would be more fun with all four of them.

    Geralt hummed before handing Jaskier his own pack to carry, newly repacked and everything. “Let’s go then. We’re losing light.”  Geralt hurried Jaskier along out the door and they both snuck out Wolf and Roach through the, thankfully, empty building into the parking lot where Geralt’s old beat up pickup truck awaited their arrival. Once everyone was in the vehicle-- pets and bags in the back seat, people in the front-- they set off for their weekend getaway. Jaskier smiled softly at Geralt as the man focused on the road before looking out his window at the hint of sun rising to greet the day. Jaskier had a feeling that it would be a good trip and he was already looking forward to the future ones as well. 

[staticscreenwriting]

... like I am home again // Angel Reyes

Synopsis: There’s a girl who looks so much like her mother and acts so much like her dad. And a father who doesn’t know how to let himself be loved.

A/N: I love this and I hope you do too :)

However far away I will always love you However long I stay I will always love you Whatever words I say I will always love you I will always love you

Angel stands on the fronts steps of the tiny white house with the red door. He’s been here many times but every time he returns it feels like the first. His heart is beating just a little faster and his hands are clammy.

Behind the door, lives the biggest part of his heart. A love he is never fully able to put into words but one that is so present and all consuming. And yet it’s a love that he has to deny himself for most of his life. A love that he only gets shorts glimpses of. Because it’s better this way. Because he can’t, and won’t, let it be tainted by the demons that follow him. The darkness and the cruelty that overshadows the rest of his life.

He takes one last drag from the cigarette before discarding it in the purple ashtray that’s placed on the banister of the front porch. Every time he looks at the ashtray, a smile finds its way onto his stoic face. It’s there for him and him alone. (Y/N) let’s him get away with a lot of shit but he knows she doesn’t appreciate him smoking around the kid and that was something he would abide to. Little Marcella made that ashtray for him all by herself, with clay and paint and glitter and he adores it. Because he adores her. So very much.

The knocking of his knuckles against the door is soon followed by the hurried footsteps of a child rushing through the house. Angel’s heart grows two sizes with the excitement of what is to come.

Marcella greets him with a smile so big it can hardly be contained by her small face. Her eyes shine up at him filled with nothing but pure and unfiltered adoration and it is in her love, that Angel finds a spark of redemption. If this girl sees even a glimpse of good in him, how bad can he really be ?

“ Uncle Angel “ her words are dripping with glee and excitement. Every time though, they send a little pang through his heart. Uncle Angel is all he is ever going to be. And even though he knows it’s for the best. And even though it was his idea, his decision, to make this ultimate sacrifice. It still hurts.

“ Well look at you, hermosa. You’ve gotten so much bigger since the last time I’ve seen you “ Angel exclaims and swoops the little girl up in his arms. Moments like this one are rare and numbered and Angel makes sure to cherish every single one of them. Holding his little girl in his arms, making her laugh and showering her in all the love he has to give, that’s his happy place. That’s what keeps him going. Even if she’ll never know.

“ Mommy says I’m gonna be a grown up in no time “ at the mention of her mother, Angel’s eyes drift towards the doorway that connects the kitchen to the living room.

(Y/N) leans against the frame, dressed in jeans and a shirt, a loving smirk playing on her lips. There’s another kind of love there. No more or less than the one he feels for Marcella, but different. It’s a love that’s been building up for years, ever since they were teenagers.

It’s a love founded on shared memories of growing up. On nights spent in her back garden watching the stars and talking about the future. On breaking into the public swimming pool. On getting drunk at 17 and getting scolded by their parents. On standing by each other when things got tough. When parents divorced. When parents died.

It’s a loved based on the mutual understanding that they’re both the other’s person. That one special person. And an understanding that they aren’t good for each other. That their lives might flow alongside each other, but they can’t intertwine.

Not even when there’s a little girl who looks so much like her mother and acts so much like her dad.

“ Yeah well, your mom is right. You’re gonna be off to college next time I come around huh ? “

It breaks his heart. To see Marcella growing up but never actually being a full part of the memories she makes. (Y/N) sends him pictures and whenever he comes around, they catch him up on all the things he missed. But he’s not an active part of her growing up. He’s not there to experience the moments with her.

Her first steps were taken at his father’s butcher shop while a newly patched in Angel was on a run for the club. Her first words were spoken to (Y/N) only, when he was at his home with a woman he hardly knew.

There’s no way to express how thankful he is for her taking photos and videos of it all, so he can relive the moments at least. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t wish his life was different. Was stable and secure and good enough for a family so pure and wonderful. So full of love.

“ Guess you need to come around more often then “ (Y/N) speaks up from her place by the kitchen door before walking over and placing a kiss on Angel’s cheek. It’s in her kiss and the way she looks at him. The love never goes away. Nor does the longing that’s brewing beneath the surface.

Never has a woman had an impact on him like (Y/N) does. It’s like she’s got him under a spell. A spell he’s been under since he was 15 years old. God, he adores this woman.

“ Guess I’ll have to. Hi, mi corazon “

“ Hi, Angel “

The share a look for a moment. A look the conveys so much. But mostly it says “I missed you”.

“ Hey kiddo, why don’t you go get your drawing that you made for Angel ? “ (Y/N) asks her daughter which in return makes the little girl gasp and wiggle in Angel’s arms, asking to be let down.

“ Yes, yes. I drew a picture of you and me “ she calls out as she hurries towards her room, pigtails swinging.

(Y/N) takes the opportunity to wrap her arms around Angel’s waist and cuddling into his chest.

“ I missed you so much “.

It pains him to hear her say those words, even if he knows they aren’t spoken with malice or ill intend. She’s not trying to make him feel guilty. She’s just — just speaking what’s on her mind. Just letting him feel the warmth she hold and the love. So much love.

“ I missed you too, “ Angel replies and places a kiss on her cheek “ both of you” .

(Y/N) looks up at him with eyes so big they’d put bambi to shame. There’s so much reflected in them. All the images of what could be but isn’t. The life they’re supposed to have, but don’t. All that they’re denied because of the decisions Angel’s made, the life he leads. He’s so grateful she doesn’t resent him for it.

“ She asks about you a lot “

“ Can’t believe how big she’s getting. She looks more and more like you every time. “

It’s true, really. She’s the spitting image of her mother and Angel is both grateful for that and a little sad. He’s grateful because that makes their whole lie a little easier to maintain. Sad, because despite it all, he would love to have at least a tiny visual reflection of himself in his girl.

“ Well she sure doesn’t act like it, she is — god, Angel. She acts so much like you it’s ridiculous. Sometimes she says things and it’s like you’re speaking through her. It’s the way you say things or certain looks she gives me that just mirror you. Sometimes it scares me. I don’t know how to deal with another troublemaker like you. It’s only getting worse with age, really. “

“ You love it “

“ I do. I just know what you were like as a teenager and I ain’t looking forward to dealing with that as a parent “ she laughs and it’s like the sun floods Angel’s world. Her laugh and smile were the first things he ever fell in love with. Somewhere along the line things between them changed. They’d been just friends for so long and the gradually things shifted. Looks held a deeper meaning. And when he first realized how he felt, he was already in over his head.

“ You know, if you want we can just — make another little one. Maybe it turns out more like you . “ he’s joking, of course. He doesn’t play an active part in his daughter’s life for her own sake, bringing another kid into the world would be selfish and wrong. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like the idea of it. The image of having another baby with (Y/N). And especially the aspect of making the baby in the first place.

“ Oh whatever “ (Y/N) smiles and gives him a friendly shove against the shoulder which makes him pull her even closer to him.

“ I really missed you. And I am, so sorry things are the way they are. “ Angel says and places his forehead on hers.

“ It’s for the best, right ? Like, we didn’t make a mistake when we chose for things to be this way ? “ (Y/N) asks as she cups his face in her hand.

Angel asks himself that question a lot of the time. Whenever he lies awake at night with a women in his bed that means nothing to him. In a home that feels lonely and bare and unlived in. A home that’s a house but no home in the end.

He wonders if he’s doing the right thing by distancing himself from the family he could have.

Then he looks at EZ, who’s almost destroyed himself over his mother’s death. He looks at the club and all the broken and lost souls. He looks at the families being pulled into club shit. And then he remembers the small girl who’s biggest worry is staying inside the lines when coloring. Her innocence and carefreeness makes it all worth it, no matter how hard it is.

“ Yeah. Yeah we are “ Angel replies and for a moment all they do is look at each other and it’s like the world has stopped spinning. Like all that matters is them and the bond they share and the unspoken words they both feel with the intensity of a blazing fire.

But they don’t kiss. Not anymore. They needed a somewhat clean cut. A certain distance. Some boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed. Otherwise this would end up being confusing to everyone involved. More confusing than it already is.

“ Look Angel, this one is me and you and a pony “ Marcella���s voice rings through the house and pulls her parents out of their shared moment.

“ No way, a pony ? That is so cool. Show me !” Angel exclaims with excitement and plops down onto the sofa, pulling Marcella onto his lap.

As she points out all the different details and quirks of the stick figures, Angel places soft kisses on her head. She owns his entire heart. Every little corner of it, it’s hers. From the moment she was born he felt an overwhelming love and unwavering sense of protection. A sense of protection that ultimately let him here. Playing uncle.

Though if that meant she was happy and safe, than he would be the best uncle the world had ever seen.

While Marcella rambles on, Angels shares a look with (Y/N) who sits down on the recliner chair across the sofa. And it’s then that for a tiny second, for a blink of an eye, they get to enjoy the family they could’ve been, the one they deserve but ultimately had to sacrifice.

And for a moment, it’s good. It’s more than good.

- OOO -

Later that night, Angel sits by the bar nursing a beer and feeling sorry for himself. Every time he has to leave his girls, he feels incredibly down. And reflecting on the way his life goes recently, doesn’t help him any either.

The club’s in some shit with some rival MC. The whole family shit with EZ and his dad is weighing heavy on his shoulders. And then there’s the fact that he always feels devastated after leaving Marcella and (Y/N). It all works together in creating a horrible black cloud above his head.

There’s a girl softly stroking his arm, trying to get him to pay her any attention but Angel is really not feeling it today so he shrugs her off and eventually she gets the hint and walks off to find another member who might be interested in spending the night with her.

On another night, when he didn’t hate himself so much, when he wasn’t so caught up over the girls he loved, maybe he would’ve said yes to her. Thought it isn’t another night. It is this night and he does feel all of those things.

It’s when he takes another sip from the bottle, that his phone rings and as he spots the caller ID on the screen that his heart falls. She doesn’t usually call him. Messages come every once in a while to keep him updated on her and Marcella but calls, that’s a new thing. Something is very very wrong.

“ (Y/N) ? “

“ Angel, hi. I— uh “ she sounds rushes, kind of overwhelmed “ I might be overreacting but uh— look there’s this car driving up and down our neighbourhood and there was a guy at the door earlier and he looked really sketchy and I “ she sighs “ I’m just really worried. It’s probably nothing though “.

It is never nothing though, is it ?

He should’ve known. No matter how hard he tries to keep those two parts of his life separate from each other, he should’ve known sooner or later they’d intertwine.

“ No, no baby it’s okay. Don’t worry. I’ll be right there. I’m on my way. “

“ Okay. Okay, thank you “. Angel can hear the relieve in her voice.

“ Always. For you, always “

“ Angel ? “

“ Yeah ? “

“ Please be careful. “

“ Always am, mi corazon “. He says, rushes out the door and towards his bike. No one was gonna mess with his family. Not now. Not ever.

- OOO -

990 Ford Ranger sitting just a few houses down from where (Y/N) and Marcella live. Angel spots it immediately. He knows the people in the area, knows what cars they drive. This isn’t one of them.

He knows this car though. It belongs to a guy called Ricky Morales. He’s some petty criminal who had a run in with the club one too many times. He’s kinda stuck somewhere between hating the club and wanting to be a part of it. Though Bishop would never even think about letting him prospect, Angel is sure about that.

Ricky, Angel is sure, isn’t the biggest threat he could’ve been met with and he’s kinda glad about that. Ricky he can deal with. He’s no danger to (Y/N) or Marcella’s life. He’s just a huge fucking pain in the ass.

He taps his knuckles against the car window, startling Ricky who was intensely watching the red door.

“ Whatcha doin’ here, Ricky ? “

“ Angel “ he says and licks his lips in a weird way that makes Angel feel super uncomfortable. He can tell Ricky is nervous. In fact, he’s not sure he’s ever seen the guy when he wasn’t nervous. “ been asking Bish about prospecting. Again. Said I can’t. Said your brother got the prospect spot. I ain’t digging that, Angel. Not one bit. Thought we were friends, you and I. “

Whatever gave him that idea, Angel has no fucking clue. He’s never spoken more than two sentences to him.

“ Yeah we aren’t friends, man. “

“ I noticed. I noticed. Followed you. Wanted to talk it out but what do I see instead ? Nice lil family you got there, Angel. Beautiful woman. Cute little girl. “

It’s then, at the mention of his girls, when things shift from being mildly amusing to being unacceptable.

“ Yeah don’t even think about looking at them again. Don’t come here. Don’t approach them. Don’t even fucking think about them. You’re a fucking creep, Ricky. And I don’t give a shit about that but you made it personal. If I ever see you around ever again I’m gonna make sure you won’t be able to ever ask Bish about prospecting ever again. Because you won’t have a tongue anymore to pronounce any words. I will cut it out, feed it to that weird ass pet snake you got. And if that don’t work, the hands are next. You hear me ? “

Ricky looks more and more afraid with every word that leaves Angel’s lips. He starts sweating. His head starts getting red.

Mission accomplished.

“ I said, do you hear me ? “

A strangled “yes” leaves Ricky’s lips.

“ Good. Now get the fuck outta here “.

Angel doesn’t have to ask him twice. The car is down the street and out of sight in the matter of seconds.

Before he can even knock, the door to the house flies open and (Y/N) throws her arms around Angel’s neck.

“ Thank god you’re here. I was so fucking scared “.

He hates this. Absolutely detests it. That his life played part in his girls feeling unsafe. This was all he ever wanted to avoid, wasn’t it ? And yet it happened. Because he lead Ricky here. Because he wasn’t careful enough. Because he —.

“ Angel we need to stop this “

It’s like a knife straight to the heart. She wants him to stop coming around. To stop putting them in danger. To stop seeing her. Seeing his kid.

“ I — yeah I get that. Let me just, let me see her one last time ? “

“ Sorry what ? “

“ You said you wanna stop this. Stop me coming to see you ? “

“ Oh god, Angel. No. That’s not what I meant. I meant we need to stop this pretending. This entire time I was thinking that if something were to happen, you weren’t here to protect us. Because we decided that this was the best decision but it wasn’t. You should be around and you should be able to protect us by physically being here. I don’t want to pretend no more. I don’t want to be scared. I know that your life comes with danger but see, you’re not here and it finds us anyway. So stay. Please, Angel. Please. “

It shakes his whole world upside down. Maybe she’s right though. Maybe it makes sense. The other’s have families. They have kids and wives and a life outside of the club. Maybe it wasn’t his attempt at protecting his girls so much as it was a way for him to figure himself out before he let himself be dad.

Maybe this was the growing he had to do before he could really protect his family. But not by being absent but by being there.

Maybe this was his shot at something spectacular.

“ You really think so ? “

“ I think it ain’t any more safe if you’re not around at all. If things get real bad, we can always leave town and go stay with my mom but either way, you’ll be there to keep the bad shit away. Right ? “

“ Right “

And then she goes and breaks the rules they set up so carefully. She kisses him and it feels like he’s 16 again and drunk and high and in love all at the same time. She’s intoxicating and so delicious. She’s warm and soft and comforting. She feels like home.

“ I love you, Angel “

It’s words that have been there for a long time. They have been in looks and touches. They have been more than prominent in the face of the little girl that was so much her mother and so much her father.

Words that have been felt but haven’t been spoken in so long.

It feels good hearing them again.

“ I love you too, mi corazon “.

And it feels great saying them.

- OOO-

“ She’s so beautiful. I still can not believe I had any part in making her. “ Angel says as he looks down at his sleeping daughter. He’s in awe of her. There’s nothing about her he would ever want to change. She’s perfect from the hair on her head all the way to her little toes.

He can’t be too bad of a person if he managed to create such a wonderful little girl.

“ She is. “

“ Mommy ? “ the little girl asks, slightly turning in her bed, before tiredly rubbing her eyes.

“ Oh baby go back to sleep we didn’t mean to wake you up “. (Y/N) says, softly combing her fingers through Marcella’s hair.

“ We ? “ she asks with her little voice before her eyes scan the room and land on Angel.

“ Uncle Angel ? “

“ Hello, hermosa. “

(Y/N) sits down on the side of Marcella’s bed “ actually, baby. Me and Angel have something to tell you “.

Angel stays silent. He’s not good at this, talking. It’s in everyone’s best interest if he let’s (Y/N) lead this conversation.

“ What is it ? “

“ You remember when I told you about your daddy and how he can’t be around because he has to work a lot ? “

Marcella nods.

“  I — I lied a little bit. “

“ But you’re not supposed to lie.” Angel can’t suppress the smile at his daughter’s words.

“ I know. But sometimes mommies have to tell a little lie to protect their babies. It’s not right but it’s necessary. “

“ So what is the truth ? “ Marcella asks, eyes filled with confusion at her mother’s confession.

“ Well, you see. Uncle Angel isn’t actually your uncle. He’s your dad. “

Her eyes fall onto him and he thanks god and all his lucky stars that there’s no resentment there. Confusion, yes, but no anger or resentment.

“ What ? “

“ Remember how in the Lion King, Simba had to go away and grow big and strong and learn how to be brave before he could fight Scar and come back to his family ? “ (Y/N) questions, earning another nod from the kid.

“ … Angel had to do that too, in a way. He needed some time to grow up and learn how to be a daddy before he could come back to us. But now he’s here and he’s so very brave and he loves you so much, Marcella. “

For a moment, the little girl stays silent, merely looking at Angel and trying to process the news she’s just been given. They both know this is a lot to pour onto a 5 year old. A lot for her to process, to understand.

Angel’s hands are clammy and he’s so very nervous as he sits at the end of Marcella’s bed. His heart can’t take much more that night. So when she crawls over to him, a tiny smile on her face, and throws her arms around his neck, he’s sure he’s about to die.

“ I always wanted you to be my dad “ she says, only loud enough for him to hear. And it’s those words that end him. As he pulls her closer to him, a single tear finds its way down his cheek. He’s not gonna admit that to anyone though. He’s not that cheesy.

 - OOO -

It’s the next day and the clubhouse is buzzing with people. Everyone’s in good spirit, playing pool and hanging out.

Angel holds Marcella in one arm, hoisted up on his hip, while the other hand is holding onto (Y/N). Yeah yeah he knows, handholding is fucking cheesy. But hey, he’s been denied this for the last 5 years, he’s gonna enjoy every second of it. Soak up all the affection and love. Let himself feel it all.

“ Yo Angel, who’s the ladies ? “ Coco calls out as he spots them walking into the clubhouse.

“ This is Marcella “ Angel smiles and he looks at his daughter. A perfect little girl. HIS perfect little girl. “ and this is (Y/N) “. The woman he’s been in love with since he was 15 years old. His person.

And now that he gets to be part of this perfect little dysfunctional family and share it with his other little dysfunctional family, he thinks like can’t get much sweeter than this.

“ They’re my girls. They’re my family. “

[thenovelartist]

Happy New Year! (Even if it isn’t officially the new year for me yet, I’m calling it.)

My friend and fellow Cheesecake fan @rosegardentwilight was one of those who didn’t get their Secret Santa gift this year. So, I decided to remedy that by pulling out this Cheesecake story and gifting it to her. I mean, I love the story, but she deserves a little fluff for the holidays, so, Happy New Year gift, friend!

...

If you asked Plagg, it. Was. Freezing.

Why he sat out here, watching the snow fall in the park so late in the afternoon while little kids were being dragged home for dinner and couples were taking late strolls, he didn’t know. He should be home, warming up an instant-noodle package to eat on the worn-out recliner in his dingy apartment.

He sighed, his breath turning white in the cold.

When he opened his eyes again, that’s when he saw the reason he was out here, even though he perpetually denied it. Because heaven forbid Plagg—the stoic, snarky, sarcastic master of his job and manager of the best demo and construction company in Paris—had fallen for a girl.

She was adorable. He didn’t know where she worked, or why she walked through the park all the time. Heck, he didn’t even know her name. That’s what made this the most embarrassing. He just thought she was beautiful. But he also knew she had a beautiful heart if the way she cared for the little kids in the park was any indication. Or the way she always gave the park attendant a paper cup filled with something hot. Or the way she gave her jacket to a homeless man two nights ago.

And the way she always smiled. Always.

Plagg was loathe to admit this girl was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He was even more loathe to admit just how stalker-ish he had become just in hopes to catch a glimpse of her.

Oh, if Adrien knew, that apprentice of his would never let him live it down.

But today, she wasn’t smiling. Nor was she alone.

Something sank in Plagg’s gut. Call it intuition, but he just knew she did not want to be walking with that man. The way she kept a neutral expression as the man talked, the way she held her coffee cup close with both hands, the way she walked at a steady clip, or the way her chin was raised in false confidence, Plagg was certain that this man was not making her comfortable.

And then she took a side step away from him when his hand came out to brush her skirt.

All hackles on Plagg’s neck went up. Why she was tolerating that man, he didn’t know, but he instinctively knew he couldn’t let them be alone. Even though he never stopped, he cursed himself for following them. Just what level of stalker had he sunk to?

He didn’t want to answer that.

He followed them up to a very nice area of town. All the while, the man kept reaching his hand out, brushing against her red skirt, but now, she wasn’t even able to get away. She’d sidestepped to the complete edge of the sidewalk. If she took even a half step away from him, she’d run into a building.

Finally—what had taken her so long?—she batted his hand and snapped at him. Her voice was adorably high. Sadly, it took away some of the effectiveness of her attempted menacing threat.

The man just chuckled. “Tikki, baby,” the man purred. “Don’t you know what you’re turning down?”

“I know precisely what I’m turning down,” she snipped. “It’s not my fault you don’t like it.”

“You know you’re not going to find a better option.”

She scoffed. “Are you talking about the job or man? Because I could find better either way.”

Plagg smiled. The woman had sass.

“Really?” he said, his smile fading to something tenser. “And you’re willing to risk that?”

She turned to look him dead in the eye. “Absolutely.”

Whatever false pretense the man wore fell away. The man’s reaction was to lift his hand, clearly to smack her rear.

But Plagg grabbed his collar before he could.

In one fluid motion that Plagg was almost ashamed to admit was way too easy, he yanked the man backwards, tossing him into the alleyway.

Some non-repeatable words were exchanged before the man took a swing. Plagg sidestepped with a chuckle.

Two minutes later, he stepped out of the alleyway, eye hurting and lip bleeding. He licked it before it would drip down his chin. Even though the vision in one eye was blurry, he could see that the girl was gone. He shoved back his disappointment. What did he expect? That she’d be waiting for him, calling him her hero when he emerged?

Heck, he’d likely never see her again.

With a sigh, he started on back to his house. So be it. He knew what he did, and even if he never saw her again, just knowing what he did for her was worth it.

He walked home, licking his still bleeding lip every once in a while, cursing himself for being a hopeless, romantic sap.

…

He didn’t know why he was there, sitting on that cold park bench while the remaining snow he failed to brush off the seat soaked through his jeans. He doubted she’d come. Yet, here he was, searching for her as always.

He checked his watch, just as he had done for the past half hour. Who was he kidding? She wasn’t coming. If she had any sense, she would have stayed at home today—

“Ahem.”

He looked up, only to come face to face with a paper cup. Looking above the rising steam was a familiar face with a smile aimed at him.

Eyes widening, he looked between the cup and her.

Her smile widened as she pushed the paper cup closer.

Unable to say a word, he took it from her, relishing the feel of the warm drink in his hands that were colder than he’d like to admit.

Satisfied, she brushed the snow off a spot on the bench before taking a seat. She propped her purse on her lap before yanking it open and digging around inside. With a grin, she pulled out something that looked very much like a toothpaste tube. She pulled off her mitten, unscrewing the lid and squeezing out a pea-sized amount of some whitish cream onto one finger. She screwed the lid back on, replaced the tube in her purse, then set her purse aside.

She angled herself at Plagg, then grabbed his chin, causing heat to flood Plagg’s cheeks.

“Close your eyes.”

Since he was nothing more than putty in her hands, he did as told. He still hadn’t said a word to her, and those were the first words she’d ever spoken to him, yet he was completely happy to surrender to her mercy.

He let out a hiss and tilted his head back at the sting that shot across his eye. Carefully, she guided his head back towards her. Only when the sensation of something wet and cold touched his skin did he realize that she was rubbing that white cream over his bruise. Even though it hurt to touch, she was gentle, and somehow, he knew she was doing it for his well-being.

Then her finger brushed his bottom lip where the cut was. He tried not to shiver at her touch, even though his stomach twisted ten ways from Sunday.

“There,” she said, the smile evident in her voice.

Her voice was gentle and caring and Plagg was completely and royally screwed. He opened his eyes, only to catch that smile he heard in her voice.

She was far too cute for her own good.

“Thank you,” she said, “for last night.”

He forced his gaze away before a blush could deepen any more. “It was nothing.”

“I’m Tikki, by the way.”

“Plagg,” he said, unable to say much more than that.

“Nice to know a name to the face,” she said.

He took a sip in hopes of hiding his pure embarrassment. She’d noticed him.

“A little cold to be sitting out here, don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “My apartment isn’t much warmer.” It was only a partial lie. He didn’t bother turning the heat up too high considering the lack of insulation in the place.

She hummed but looked thoughtful. Before she could say a word, her phone buzzed and she quickly answered it. Plagg watched her eyes grow wide and jaw drop.

“I’m so so sorry,” she said, shoving her phone back in her purse. “But I have to go. Important meeting I didn’t think I was going to have to go to.”

He gave her a smile. “Thanks for the hot chocolate,” he said. “Stay safe.”

“Thank you!” she called out as she scurried away, clearly excited.

Plagg’s smile grew as he settled back against the bench. He sipped his hot chocolate again before getting a call of his own. He tugged out his phone. “What is it, Adrien?”

“We got the job,” his apprentice said. “And he wants to meet us in half an hour.”

…

Plagg drove up to the meeting spot, his car heat finally deciding to work just as he shut it off.

“You make how much a year and you still drive that crap car?” Adrien commented as he marched up to Plagg.

“I will drive it ‘til it dies,” Plagg said, shutting the door and locking it.

“You don’t have to spend a fortune on a new car. Just one that doesn’t make you look like you’re scraping by.”

“It works,” Plagg argued. “I don’t want a new car that I have to relearn.”

Adrien just rolled his eyes and marched inside.

Plagg chuckled. “You remember the paperwork.”

Adrien was quick to spin on his heel and head back out to his car.

Plagg just chuckled.

He watched from inside the warm building as Adrien scurried out to his car, only to run into a girl in the process. Plagg groaned, watching the scene unfold. Adrien knocks girl over; girl falls spectacularly into the snow, tossing her armful of papers everywhere; Adrien apologizes but is still a gentleman and picks up her papers; girl takes papers.

Their eyes meet.

And Plagg rolled his eyes away at the rest.

A scant moment later, the girl walked in, her rolled papers clutched to her chest while wearing a smile. She never noticed Plagg, which was fine by him.

He was too busy staring at a slick sports car with a guy decked out in a thousand-dollar suit marching out of it. Quickly, he hid his face with the collar of his jacket and slipped out the door, marching to his car with his head down while suit-guy pulled out his phone and marched to the building. He never noticed Plagg.

“Plagg?” Adrien said, looking at his employer.

“I’ll be inside in a minute,” Plagg said. “Just wait in the lobby.”

Plagg was certain Adrien was shooting him a quizzical look, but Plagg didn’t particularly care. At least the boy did what he was told and went back inside the lobby.

Plagg may be a good teacher, but he wasn’t always the best role-model.

Once inside, Plagg and Adrien went to the elevator. Adrien pressed the button, and the doors slid shut. “What were you doing out there?”

Plagg just knew the boy would ask. “I could ask you the same thing,” he turned back. “What was that? Sweet love?”

Adrien’s cheeks took on a shade of pink that had nothing to do with the cold and turned away, effectively dropping the conversation.

The elevator doors opened, and Adrien marched out ahead of Plagg, likely out of embarrassment.

Plagg couldn’t help but smirk.

At least Adrien led Plagg to the conference room they were supposed to meet at. Plagg didn’t really know where he was going considering that he wasn’t the one who’d taken the call. He was too busy watching for the sweet Tikki to walk by, and then got caught up in letting Tikki care for his black eye and split lip.

Not that Adrien needed to know any of that.

The two men took a moment to straighten their suits. Well, pseudo-suits. Plagg didn’t do suits. Instead, he wore a black blazer with a green button down and his nicest dark jeans. Adrien looked a little more put together with his black jacket, white button down, and khakis. Neither wore ties, Adrien saying that his father dressed him up in ties far too much when he was younger and Plagg just boycotted them all together. He wasn’t a white-collar man, and he didn’t have to dress like one. He’d make the effort to look as presentable as possible, but that was about it.

With a nod at Adrien that said they were good to go, Plagg opened the door to the conference room. In three seconds flat, he was a mess of emotions that he hope didn’t show. Because problem number one was the woman sitting on the right side of the table. His heart was already a mess around the woman and he had barely held a single conversation with her.

Problem number two sat at the head of the table with a split lip and a chunk of gauze across his nose.

The man looked at Plagg with a lowered brow, as though trying to place him.

Please, Plagg silently begged. Please have him not recognize me. Please let it have been too dark. Let him not think I would assault him. Anything.

The man cleared his throat. “Mr. Noir, Mr. Agreste,” he greeted, indicating the opposite side of the table as Tikki and the girl Adrien had helped in the parking lot. “Please, take a seat.”

“Thank you,” Plagg said, taking a seat.

“Forgive my appearance,” the man said. “I was… in an accident a couple nights ago.”

Plagg knew exactly what sort of accident the man was in. He bit his cheek to keep from smiling. Unfortunately, his eye caught Tikki’s, who quickly looked away towards the man at the head of the table.

“Now, a quick introduction,” the man said. “We have Ms. Fu and her assistant, Miss Dupain-Cheng, the designers that my company has hired to oversee everything from the architecture to the interior design of the new hotel. And then we have Mr. Noir and his assistant, Mr. Agreste here to oversee the demolition of the old site as well as the construction of the building.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Adrien started, reaching across the table to Miss Dupain-Cheng.

“The pleasure is mine,” she returned, placing her hand into his and giving a gentle shake.

Plagg resisted from quirking a knowing brow at his apprentice and instead extended his own hand to Tikki. “Nice to meet you,” he said.

“Likewise,” she said, shaking his hand.

He wouldn’t forget the feel of her soft hand in his any time soon.

Thankfully, the head of the meeting quickly got them started on discussing designs and time frames. Soon enough, everything was sorted out and the handshakes being exchanged were ones of good-byes.

“Ms. Fu,” the man said. “Would you mind staying a moment?”

Plagg’s hair on his neck bristled, and his senses shot to high alert upon noticing just how uncomfortable Tikki looked at the suggestion.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But I must get going. If there’s anything else you need, please give me a call.”

The man paused but gave a nod. “Of course.”

Plagg and Adrien cleaned up first, leaving the room seconds before Tikki and her assistant exited.

The man lingered behind in the conference room, something Plagg had no problem with whatsoever.

While waiting for the elevator, Adrien and Miss Dupain-Cheng—Marinette, Plagg soon learned—struck up a conversation.

“I’m shocked he didn’t recognize you.”

Plagg turned down to Tikki. “Well,” he returned at a whisper, “now I know why you were letting him follow you that night.”

“Stupid, I know,” she said.

“Why take the job?”

“Because this is the first project on this scale that I get to head,” she answered. “I do a lot of following orders, but this is the first time it was my pitched design that was chosen and I must stand by it.”

“Even if it makes you uncomfortable?”

The elevator door opened just before Tikki could answer.

She sighed. “Unfortunately,” was all she whispered.

And it was then that Plagg swore he could cause as much chaos in this guys life as he could. Because like hell would he just stand by while Mr. thousand-dollar-suit-and-flashy-sport-car made this perfectly sweet and innocent woman feel like his prey.

[collateralfiction]

00

Bailey

Out of all Sunday services, I have never seen so many faces; familiar and some not, show up… out of support for such a tragedy in the community. Even when it was a wedding or someone being baptized, it was nothing compared to how much people came to show their faces and condolences today; July 28. Those that weren’t even as religious as they should be, showed their faces and arrived in their cleanest of Sunday clothes, ready to show their support and love. It took a loss in the community for everyone to realize how things will never be the same. It took a loss in the community to gather everyone together for once. It took a loss in the community for many to realize everyone’s life was limited.

Why weren’t we warned about this two weeks ago?

Two weeks ago, everything seemedabsolutely perfect. New York’s weather was great for once, I was able to see my father, my mothers’ Day Care was ranked number one in New York State, along with her budding interior design company. Ryan finally had his brother back after he relocated from Georgia to New York. Things were running smoothly and most importantly, the violence and corruption was at a bare minimum, for once. Of course, in this world not everyone was able to coexist but I did wonder what worldwide peace would look like. It seemed childish to even think about but it was a legit goal. I guess people would have to be high for that to happen. But then again, people still manage to do outrageous stuff when under the influence.

Fast forward two weeks later, nothing seemed to be falling into place like it once did a few weeks back. The sun was no longer shinning and creating a warm weather we all grew accustomed to, everyone seemed tense and unrealistic, and it was seldom you wouldn’t see anyone outside. Now? No one wanted to be outside like they used to, and it was all due to an unfortunate turn of events. People were too shaken up to function, let alone do a simple task of grocery shopping at the local supermarket. It was complete and utter chaos.

A slew of Riley and Ryan’s family sat in the front few pews, stoic as ever. I know this must have been rough on them but I was surprised that none of them were weeping as hard as I had been prior to the occasion and even the days leading to it. I wondered if this was just a casualty of the game. Were they expecting it? No, but did it happen? Yes and they would be stupid to ignore the small hints along the way.

I didn’t have any blood connection to Riley but I always looked at him as my older brother and someone I could easily run to for whatever, regardless of the distance. A year in New York and I had not the slightest clue it would result in this; no one was expecting it. Not him, at least. A surge of emotions started to skyrocket through my body as my legs continued to tremble. I’ve never been to a funeral, surprisingly, and being at one now caused a plethora of emotions to fly from inside. Knowing that if I possibly shed a single tear, I wouldn’t stop, I tried not to.

Crying really does nothing for the body anyhow. My tears aren’t going to bring Riley back so why exhaust myself to the point of sickness?

I stared at my lap and toyed with my royal blue colored acrylic nails. The service hadn’t started yet and we were just waiting on Riley and Ryan’s mother to come along. I haven’t seen Ms. Chalmers in quite a while and ever since Riley had been gunned down, the same day as his birthday might I add, she’s been different. The relationship I used to have with her, I have no longer. The idea of one of her sons’ being gunned down really brought her to her breaking point. She remained to herself and most recently, it seems she severed her relationship with her only remaining child, Ryan. Although he might deny the fact that it doesn’t bother him, I know it does and it’s a sad thing to see.

Ryan and his mother weren’t as close as Riley and their mother, but it was better than nothing. They still communicated very often unlike now.

“Are you okay?” I mumbled, connecting Ryan and I’s hand together. He was relatively quiet for the most part, only speaking when spoken to. We arrived an hour before the service was set to begin because of how antsy Ryan had become. We were one of the first to arrive and we’d probably be the last to leave. The dynamic relationship between his brother and him were one for the books. There was once a time when neither of them enjoyed the other’s company and I hypothesized it was because they have different fathers and their living situations while growing up was much different as well. However, things changed as they grew and had begun to appreciate one another like they should have before. Too bad it was too late for them to develop that bond they severely needed.

“I’m good,” he said, his chocolate eyes focused ahead. I leaned my head against his shoulder and sighed. Ryan’s very good at suppressing his emotions and it’s not intentional either. When you’re put into certain situations you have no control over, your emotions are the last thing that could possibly interfere. With this moment here, behind closed doors, he let everything out; I know he has. But in front of hundreds of civilians, he wouldn’t. I watched as he looked down at his gold Patek watch and mumbled something inaudible about the time or something concerning his mother. I kept my eyes planted on the door, awaiting for his mother’s arrival. My mind began to wonder and conjure up the idea of her not showing. I mean, I wouldn’t fault her but I know Ryan would make a big fuss out of it.

“She’s here,” I said, admiring her natural beauty. Ms. Chalmers was a beautiful Trinidadian lady with natural curls that surrounded her round face. She had light hazel eyes that were almond shape. She had a slight accent but spoke fluent English. I know her to be strict at times but she was very affectionate and loving as well. I just couldn’t understand nor fathom the sudden change. Ryan turned his head to look at his mother and for a second, I saw the sadness clearly in his eyes but he simply shrugged it off and turned to look away. Ms. Chalmers was stopped numerous times towards her seat and all eyes were placed on her; except for her son. “Are you going to greet her?”

“No,” he mumbled. “I’m here to pay respect to my brother. My mother and I have nothing to talk about whatsoever,” he stated sternly, clenching his jaw. It seems like when he loses someone he was close with, he loses someone else at the same time. I don’t want him to experience that again. That would tear him apart.

“Don’t be like that,” I whispered, making eye contact with his mother. She stared at me for a total of five seconds before giving me a small smile. I know she noticed that Ryan was beside me, but she didn’t even bother to acknowledge him causing me to frown. Sucking his teeth, he dropped my hands from his hold and crossed them over his chest. Rolling my eyes at his unnecessary attitude, I just decided to focus on what was happening before me. Memories of that fatal night flooded my mind miserably once the funeral began.

The cool nighttime air of New York was without a doubt beautiful tonight. So beautiful, only a pair of ripped jeans, an Indiana Pacer jersey and a pair of black Toms rested comfortably on my body. It had just struck midnight and Ryan and I decided to visit Riley and surprise him with the first of the many Happy Birthdays’ he would receive over the day. He was turning twenty-three and being that I get overly excited about the idea of a birthday or something similarly close to it, I wanted his day to be amazing from start to finish. This was the first birthday I would be sharing with him and it was a birthday that I wanted to be memorable for him. The only proper way that would be able to happen is if I carried a bottle of his favorite liquor and some new clothes. Two of his favorite things in the world. I live only a mere ten blocks from the brownstone he resided in and with Ryan insisting on taking his car, we reached the house in no time. As a gift for graduating College early, his paternal grandfather allowed him to reside in the house he grew up in as a child.

To my surprise, when we reached the brownstone Riley was already standing outside, a blunt in hand. Upon noticing our arrival, his smile widened as he jogged down the few steps and stood before me. “Happy birthday, Riley!” I smiled, extending my arms out wide for a hug.

His deep baritone voice invaded my ears as he chucked before responding. “Thank you, ma. I appreciate it, I do,” he said, welcoming me in a tight embrace, my feet coming off the ground a bit. Riley was a little bit taller than Ryan, but they shared a lot of characteristics together such as their thick hair, smooth chocolate skin and sense of style. I’m surprised they aren’t twins with the way they tend to act. Pulling away from me, he looked down at the blunt in his hand and then at me. “I should put this out, right?” he questioned with a chuckle.

“I don’t want to be the reason for you to not enjoy your day so do as you please. I should be fine,” I told him, stepping back some.

“Good looks,” he nodded. “What’s good with you and this Pacers jersey though?” he commented.

“It’s just for looks,” I chuckled. “You know I support Miami,” Slightly.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, taking a quick pull of the neatly rolled blunt. His eyes looked past me and landed on his brother. “What’s up, Ryan?” he questioned, pulling him into a brotherly hug and dap.

“Shit. We out here for you, bro,” he chuckled. “Happy pussy day, nigga. Stay trill for the day,” I rolled my eyes accordingly to their conversation and moved to take a seat on the steps. Their conversation continued for a total of fifteen minutes as they pretty much summed up their night and what’s been going on lately. Their conversation was cut short by a black Jeep pulling up and the door opening with great ease. Out walked a few of Riley’s friend, coming along with more Liquor in their hands and bags of food. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had ample the amount of weed hidden somewhere in those bags. From the logo on one of the bags, I easily noted that the food came from the seafood spot not too far away from here.

Great choice.

As the group embraced each other with loud talking, I distracted myself with my iPhone, wanting to make sure that my sister was alright and according to her, she was. I only had one sibling and that was my eighteen-year old sister, who I cared for as if she was mine. I would go insane if something were to happen to her due to what the men in our lives do.

“You want some food, Bailey?” Riley questioned, causing me look away from my phone. “There’s more than enough for everyone,” he said, passing off the blunt for Ryan to finish.

“Sure,” I declared. “I can’t stay long though,”

“No problem,” he smiled. “I can’t send my sister home without something to fill her up though,” he said, draping his arm around my shoulder. I turned around slightly and went to question what Ryan was doing, seeing that he was on his phone, feverishly talking to someone after Riley gave him the blunt to finish. However, with Riley almost dragging me inside his lavish house, I didn’t have time to question him on what he was doing. Riley’s brownstone was nothing short of magnificent. I trailed behind everyone as they led the way towards the living room, setting everything up. Riley had the Stereo on, playing the latest rap music. The T.V. was on and GTA V was on, ready to be played by anybody. I would have to call dibs before someone else did. With the addition of food, liquor, weed and friends, this could have been considered a small get together or party if you will.

I took a seat at the table, along with the two other girls that emerged from the Jeep. Food was placed in front of us and since I hadn’t had anything to eat for the day, the Shrimp and Fish, along with a side order of French Fries would have to do. It wasn’t until thirty minutes later that Ryan finally made his appearance besides me, reaching to take a sip of the drink I had been babysitting. His hand rested on the thigh furthest from him as I sat back against his arm and leaned into him. “Who were you talking to?” I questioned, smelling the odor of weed on him.

“No one, baby,” he mumbled. “No one important at least,”

“No,” I said. “That person must have been extremely important if the conversation lasted thirty minutes,” I gritted, not trying to easily display my distaste in him lying to me.

“Well, it’s nothing to worry ‘bout so don’t stress it,” he said sternly. I sighed wearily, knowing that Ryan was extremely stubborn and nothing would be solved until he admits it on his own time. However, not everything is on his time. For as long as I’ve known Ryan, all through Middle School and High School, he’s always been very hardheaded. It’s his way or no way at all. You’re either on his side or you’re against him. You either work with him or leave him alone. Everything must be done on his accord and I must be that one exception, depending on the situation.

Sighing roughly, I stood from my seat and went to go find Riley. I had to go home soon, and I wanted to say my farewells to him before I see him later on today. There were a couple of things I had planned and he was included in all of it. I checked in his room, but he wasn’t there, he wasn’t in the living room and wasn’t in the kitchen. My best guess would have to be outside, seeing as that his doorbell would constantly ring. Pulling the door back, I looked outside and noticed how quiet the neighborhood was, but I didn’t see any signs of Riley. However, I didn’t go back inside because I noticed his favorite Supreme hat siting on one of the steps. I continued down the stairs, in reach to get it. I damn near jumped out of my skin after hearing an electrifying sound, resembling one of a fire cracker. Fourth of July was a week ago and people were still doing them?

Shaking my head, I snatched the hat off the ground and looked up in time to catch a black van, tinted heavily, speed down the road quickly as if cops were behind them. Funny thing is, none were behind them. “What the fuck? That’s the number one way to cause an accident,” I grumbled.

“B-B-Bailey…” My voice got caught in my throat as I halted and look to the left of me. Through the dim lightening, my eyes had to be playing cruel tricks on me. I dropped the Supreme hat that was once in my grasp and briskly walked towards Riley. My hands came in contact with the side of his stomach. “Call Ryan,” he choked out.

Tears I’ve been trying to suppress lately, easily spilled from my eyes and I hadn’t even noticed Ryan trying to console me to stop. I’ve never lost anyone as close as I was to Riley so this hit close to home. I can recall the many conversations I would hold with him and he was so wise and smart for someone so young. He was going to be great one day but no one would be able to see that and neither would he. “Calm down with the tears now. No more tears,” Ryan mumbled, pulling me in closer to his body, kissing my forehead. The service was devastating and every now and then, you could easily hear the weeping of many. The only one who looked like they refused to cry was Ms. Chalmers; she was being strong about this. It was obvious that she favored Riley more than Ryan but at this point, she was numb to everything that was occurring. The last thing she expected was for her son to be murdered the day of his birthday.

The service continued for at least another hour and by then, people were able to approach the casket – the open casket - and say their farewells. I clung to Ryan as he weaved through the crowd, heading towards the exit. “You’re not going to…”

“No,” he said, cutting me off. “I’m not saying goodbye to my brother like that. He’s still here with me,” he snapped.

“Okay,” I said, sighing.  “What does this mean now?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ll figure it out,” he said shortly, looking for someone over my head. I turned, trying to scout out who he was looking for but coming up fruitless. I frowned and turned to look at him. His jaw was clenched, and his fist were balled tightly, exposing his veins.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my turn to now console him.

“Niggas are so disrespectful,” he spat, my eyebrows furrowing together. He pushed me to the side gently and began storming off. Due to the church attendees’ emerging from the church, it blocked my vision of him; essentially, losing him to the crowd. What niggas were he referring to? I felt so lost and drained. My mind was spinning with a million and one thoughts, all breaking me down mentally. A part of me didn’t find the courage to wake up this morning and attend this service because of the effects that it would come with. But I knew I had to, I just didn’t know what would possibly entail from this point on.