#one of the languages she said the first about was French.. I’m Canadian

[fraisefille33]

If my sister says “you’re not gonna leave Canada anyway, why learn other languages” or “you already speak English, what’s the point of learning anything else” even one more time-

[wearebarca]

2. Captured // // Alexia Putellas x Original character

Part 1 Part 2

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed too long at the same place. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

word count: 5,7K

18 + (eventually)

A/N: Currently procrastinating instead of finishing my thesis on "The methods of repression used during the first Christian Inquisition" Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy.

As soon as the words left her lips, Rosalie knew that she would be in for a world of teasing from the two women who still stood behind her. She had hoped that even with the few years she had spent playing in France, Lucy had not picked up enough French to understand what she had said, but the burst of giggles that was heard quickly killed all her hopes. The confused look plastered on the Catalonian made the French-Canadian turn an even darker shade of red. 

“ Perdon? I am sorry I do not understand,”

“Oh no I’m sorry, I got my languages mixed up. I’m Rosalie” She extended her hand for the captain to shake. 

“Rosalia? It is nice to meat you, I am Alexia, Welcome to Barcelona ,” Her hand was much bigger than her own, calloused from all her training. The blond never broke eye contact from the smaller brunette who did not dare to look away. 

A cough finally broke the girls from their interaction. Lucy and Keira were still there, but another woman had joined them. “ We hope you enjoy it here,” Alexia let her hand go and made her way back to Mapi, who was looking at her with a raised eyebrow and a cheeky smile hovering on her lips, which earned her a loud smack behind the head. 

“ Hola chica, I’m Sara, one of the coaches, welcome to the team,” she hugged the Canadian like she had known the woman for years, “we just wanted to tell you that if you would like, we could go over your training together! We’d love to help if you need.” The woman’s enthusiasm made it hard for the photographer to refuse which led them to set up a time the following week for a run together. It was indeed a good proposition since her marathon was quickly approaching and a professional opinion on her training routine wouldn’t be a bad thing. 

Soon enough, all the introductions were made and Rosalie was left once again alone with Lucy, who was still giggling about her friend’s encounter with her captain. Seeing as the girl was showing signs of being a little overstimulated, she decided to drag her to the locker room. Once inside, she shoved Keira’s spare boots in her hands and pushed the younger girl back to the pitch. Back at England’s national camp, especially during the last one they spent together, whenever Rosalie felt like the world was spinning too fast around her, Lucy would pull her aside and pass the ball with her. This would always  relax the brunette and help her talk about whatever was on her mind.  

« Are we even allowed to do this” she asked as she kicked the ball right at Lucy’s feet.

“We have twenty minutes before the end of training and I am not going back in there.” She said wincing “ And don’t worry, the staff does this all the time” she kicked it back to Rosalie, the ball flying to her chest, absorbing the shock before falling to her feet.

“Your captain seems intense”

“ oh oui madame elle est très intense.” The younger woman's  eyes rolled so far she would have caught a glimpse of her frontal lobe

“ Got you a little nervous didn’t she”

“ Don’t even start Bronze” While she was distracted, Rosalie stole the ball from Lucy’s feet and sent it to the top right corner of the goal. A few cheers could be heard from the gym where a few players had gathered. 

“Some defender you are” the younger woman said as she started to walk toward the building. She turned around just in time to see Lucy lunge towards her and grab her by the waist to hoist her on her shoulder like a potato sack. 

Lunch arrived soon after and everyone made their exit towards the cafeteria. Rosalie sat at the table with the rest of the media team whom she hadn’t had the chance to meet yet. Everyone was very welcoming, especially Marcello who was one of the marketing guys and Isabella who is the head of social media and the face of barça’s media. Marcello is a very laid back guy with an easy laugh while Isabella was a whirlwind of colours, energy and excitement. The both of them together completed each other and quickly included the Canadian in their conversation, speaking in English and slowed down Spanish for her to understand. 

Even with the cacophony of voices and constant back and forth between tables, at the other side of the room, Alexia seemingly could not take her eyes away from the brunette who’s bright green eyes had not left her mind. A sharp pinch on her arm pulled her from her day dream. “ If you stare harder she might combust, you know.”

Mapi had watched her friend stare for a good ten minutes before feeling bad for the brunette across the room. « You can talk to her you know, you’d like her she seems like a simple girl. »

« Mhm »

« She’s gonna fit well here, have you seen her instagram? She is very talented and obviously very beautiful and… » The blond captain tuned out her friend who she knew was going on one of her rants and didn’t need the blond's participation in this one-sided conversation.  

The truth was that the catalonian did not know how to feel toward the new photographer. She had never been a big fan of the media team. She knew that they were simply doing their jobs but she had always hated this part of professional football. The eyes constantly watching her, her private life exposed for profit, she simply wasn’t comfortable whenever a camera was near. 

She didn’t hate the previous head photographer, but she never bothered to be more than courteous towards her. For some reason, this time, there was something different, she was curious about the canadian. 

The afternoon went fast for Rosalie. An official meeting with the media team, more documents to sign and more hands to shake. The brunette was itching to take her camera and go down to the pitch to start on some training pictures, which she did as soon as she was free to leave management’s office.

 It was now around two in the afternoon and the sun was shining bright on the training pitch. The whole team was out and playing a practice game and the photographer took this as an opportunity to take a few shots. She had heard Spanish football and how different but these girls were definitely on a different level and seeing them in action for the firing time was truly impressive, the woman thought as she watched the ball fly towards the goal, the shot so precise and powerful that Sandra Paños had no chance to block it. 

It did not take long before she was running around the pitch with her camera in hand. Her hair was up in a ponytail and she could feel her baby hairs stick to her forehead. The heat was getting to the photographer who had rolled the sleeves of her t-shirt and was currently cursing her choice of pants. Heat wasn’t her cup of tea. Even after a month here she still wasn’t used to the temperature. She was Canadian after all, the cold was more her element. Even under the unforgiving sun, her eyes were glued to the viewfinder, her mind set on the scenery around her and  the heat wasn’t even an afterthought.  

Rosalie  managed to get a couple decent shots of the girls in action that she ended up showing to Mapi and Patri who kept shouting something about who was the hottest one in Spanish. 

Everytime her eye left the camera, The brunette could feel a piercing gaze stuck on her, the eyes belonging to none other than Barcelona’s captain. Even though she had caught her staring, Alexia’s hazel eyes wouldn’t stray. The French-Canadian would send a shy smile her way which would break her trance, and then the blond would simply go back to the game without acknowledging her even the slightest.. By the third time, Rosalie simply stopped acknowledging her and just focused on her work. If the blond didn’t bother to be polite, then she didn't have to be either.

After an hour outside, she finally decided that she had enough material and headed back to her office. She made a stop at Martina’s office to discuss which pictures would go in today’s post and ended up agreeing to go get coffee tomorrow morning before work. The rest of the afternoon was spent on editing the pictures she had taken and working on some more from the night before. She had had an idea during her little meeting with the media team. A project that would serve as a thank you for the never ending support of the Barça fans and she was really excited. This project would take up a lot of her schedule, but after only a month in Barcelona, she had seen how spirited and dedicated the fans were and she thought it was important for them to know that their club was infinitely thankful for them. 

A knock on the door pulled her from her work and her eyes quickly shifted to the door.

 “ It’s half past five, why are you still here?”

Keira was standing in her doorway, changed and bag in hand, ready to go home after a particularly demanding training day. She half thought that the younger brunette would be gone by now but she wasn’t surprised when she saw her still at her desk, ready glasses low on the bridge of her nose, completely focused on her computer screen. 

“ I just want to finish these for tomorrow, it has to be perfect.” Her eyes strayed back to her computer but she could still hear the other woman walk around her desk and lean over her shoulder. A picture of Alexia standing on the sides lines, arms crossed and face scrunched up in a concentrated expression was currently in the process of being reframed and adjusted. 

“These are good.”

“Thank you,” she scrolled on the lot to show her more, “ Everyone looks so happy, besides..”

“It’s normal, you won’t catch her smiling, especially these days” she said it so casually, Rosalie  felt bad for the woman.

“Pressure?”

“Most likely” she said “ Come on, we’re coming over to your place tonight, you gotta prepare.”

“Says who?”

“ Your big sister, we know you’re far from unpacked. We’re coming to help.” She said, grabbing Rosalie’s bag on her way out. 

“We’re bringing take out” That was all it took to convince the Canadian to put away her laptop and follow the woman out of the training grounds. 

She had not realized just how badly she needed a night like this. The last time she had spent the night goofing around with her best friend was almost a year ago during international break and she had missed her friends dearly ever since. As the brunette had predicted, the couple arrived shortly after her, still in their training kits, claiming that this was as much their apartment as Rosalie’s which meant that they had the right to shower here if they pleased. While Lucy was gone, Keira had set up the kitchen island as a table while Rosalie was busy rummaging through her boxes to find two additional plates and cutlery. 

“ How long have you been here? A month? And you still have this many boxes lying around?”

“What can I say, all I really need is out and the rest could wait… indefinitely.” She ducked fast enough for the placemat to miss her head by an inch.

“ By the end of the night I’m telling you, you’ll be all set and you’ll owe us a round at the pub.”

By the end of the night, they had managed to take care of most of the boxes and made a list of what items were missing for this palace to become a real home. The couple ended up staying late, and would surely regret this at training the next day. It was truly like no time had passed since they had last seen each other. The evening was full of laughs and stories shared but the girls on their respective journeys since they had last been together. Rosalie would not admit it, but she truly needed a night like this. She felt so happy to finally be surrounded by her family, and the prospect of being able to see them a lot more often made this place feel like it could finally be somewhere she considers home. 

The rest of the week was more or less the same. Rosalie started her days by going to get coffee with  Mapi and Ingrid, who quickly became good friends,  or Martina. She loved the woman’s constant smiling and contagious energy and quickly found out that the head of social media was the woman to go see if you wanted to know the latest gossip amongst the Barcelona team and staff members. 

Friday was her last day of the week at the training center and was scheduled to be a very busy day. The morning would be filled with meetings and a presentation for the special fan project she had come up with. Then she had several shoots planned with the girls that would take place in her office. This alone would take the whole afternoon and Rosalie knew that when she would leave for the weekend, she would be exhausted. She knew that she would need all the energy she could get which is why she was currently on her way to the coffee shop with both Ingrid and Mapi by her side. 

Upon entering the shop, the girls beside the photographer both stopped in their tracks and turned towards the counter. A tall blond woman was currently leaning with her back against the counter and her hands in her pockets. The shop was almost empty so the three girls entering made enough noise to pull Alexia out of her thoughts. She recognized easily the voice of the tattooed woman and the Norwegian but, the third voice sent chills down her back and the woman froze, keeping her eyes on the floor, half hoping that the trio would make their way to the register without noticing her. But of course, as if the universe was against her, her name was called by the barista.

“Alexia, chica, cómo estás?” Mapi made her way towards her captain, leaving the photographer and Ingrid at the counter. 

“ Bien, ¿Por qué estás aquí tan temprano?” Usually on fridays, training started a little later, so the blond did not understand why the couple was here so early instead of relaxing at home like they usually did. 

“ Ambos tenemos fisioterapia esta mañana, pensamos que tomaríamos un café con Rosalie antes de nuestras citas.”

“ Ah si, fisoterapia,” Eversince the photographer’s arrival in the small shop, the blond was hyper aware of everything happening around her. The sound, the wiring of the espresso machines, the sound of spoons hitting the rim of the cup, the shuffling of sneakers on the hardwood floors. When a delicate smell of coconut and argan oil came to her, she did not need to turn around to know that the reason for her nervousness was standing next to her.

The photographer was just as nervous as the footballer. All week she had seen the captain’s behavior change every time she would walk in a room or on the pitch. The captain would either avoid the brunette and stare from afar or simply leave the room she was in. At first, she thought it was simply because the woman was shy and needed time to warm up to new people, but that theory quickly fell once she had seen the taller woman interact with journalists and strangers. Now standing so close to the woman,the French-Canadian did not know if she should ignore her or try to engage with the mysterious woman.

Surprisingly, it was Alexia who made the first move. “ I heard you will have a big day today with the annual team shoot.” 

“ Oh oui, it’s going to be a busy one I'm afraid, but I’m excited to work more closely with you all, I never get to see you guys outside of training settings so this should be fun!” She said, clearly excited to get to do a little studio work. The clear happiness on the smaller girl's face made the blond smile slightly. 

“ I do not know if you will still be happy once you have a bunch of children running around in your office.”  

“ Hey! We are not so bad.” Mapi said, hitting her friend on the shoulder.

“I love you darling but yes you are.” Ingrid had her arms crossed and was smiling fondly at her girlfriend who was pouting slightly. 

Silence fell on the group as they watched a mother and her little girl entering the shop. Sensing that the atmosphere was starting to be a little awkward considering no one was going to talk, Ingrid decided to steer the conversation towards something she knew would appeal to everyone. “ Are you guys excited about the match next friday”

The team was playing Sevilla next Friday and this would be Rosalie’s first away game. She had a feeling they would ask her to join the team to see how it usually goes. As the head photographer, she would usually not have to make the trip every single time but shetought it was important that for the few next away games, she would come along and experience the whole ordeal herself. 

“ Sevilla is always entertaining to play. Besides, we will get the whole day after the match to go around the city.” The blond responded. “ You will come with us, I heard.” She added turning slightly towards the brunette.

“ They haven’t told me anything yet but I can only assume that if they told you I was coming then it means I’ll be there.” At that, the blond catalonian let a small smile graze her lips. The sight made the photographer melt a little on the spot. 

« Good, it will be a good game » an awkward silence fell on the  little group.They were all waiting on Alexia to add something but the woman stayed silent, staring down at the smaller girl. From closer, the Canadian realized that in order to look Alexia in the eyes, she had to tilt her head up quite a bit. Combined to her intense gaze, the height difference made the blond Catalonian look even more intimidating which added to the Canadian’s inability to speak at the moment.  Thankfully for both, Alexia’s name was called once again by the barista which allowed the smaller brunette to relax while the captain went to finally pick up her order. She quickly walked back to the small group and handed Rosalie a cup that smells exactly like her favourite coffee. 

«  te veré en el entrenamiento chicas » she said, quickly exiting the shop without sparing another glance towards the confused photographer. 

« What did I do? »

« What do you mean? »

“She must hate me to act so weird when I’m around » She said as she took the coffee that she had ordered herself the counter, Ingrid trailing behind her, carrying her own order and Map’s since the woman had ran out after Alexia. 

« She’s very closed off. It’s always been hard when newcomers arrive in the team. '' She said, while staring down at her feet. “ She did get you a cup of coffee so I don't think that she hates you.” She added. In her mind, it was clear that the Norwegian was keeping something from her just by the way she would not meet the photographer's eyes while talking.

“ Speaking of coffee, how did she know my favorite?” 

“ Martina” 

“ Mais quelle fouineuse celle-là”

“ What?” 

“Oh nothing,” 

When they arrived at the center, the Spanish women were near the entrance, deep in conversation. The rapid spanish rambling was completely lost on the French-Canadian who was starting to think about asking about those intensive lessons management had offered her. She made a mental note to ask later today and decided that she had had enough awkwardness for today and wanted to save the small amount of energy she had left from her first week to focus on the day ahead. She would thank the captain for the coffee when it would be her shoot in the afternoon. 

Just like she had predicted, Rosalie’s day started at a hundred miles an hour with multiple meetings. One of them being an update on the fan project she was currently working on. She also met up with management about the game on wednesday and got the travel details. She would travel with the team and be seated with the girls on the plane and bus so she would be able to capture as much content as she could during the trip. She would be the only member of the photography team to go since the rest was working on a side project that involved the second team and youth club, so for the sleeping arrangements, she would most likely room with a random coach or therapist but nothing was sure yet. Being the only photographer on the trip meant that Rosalie would have twice as much work as usual which put her on edge a little but nonetheless, she was excited at the prospect of her first trip with her new team. 

 The meetings ended up taking up the whole morning and finished only when lunch started. The photographer still had to set up her office for the shootings and had to skip lunch in order to have everything ready for the first group. The day before, when she received the backgrounds management wanted her to use, she had almost laughed in front of them at how cheesy it looked. They were a dark navy blue with red and white stars all around. Someone who did not know Barça’s colour team would have probably thought this was an american themed photoshoot. The brunette had decided to lean into the cheesiness of the backgrounds and picked up some props that would go well with the vision she had in mind. 

The first ones to arrive were Lucy, Keira, Mapi and Ingrid, which eased the Canadian's nerves a little. With the help of the people she knew best in this team, she was able to pinpoint what worked best and test out some poses she had thought of. Alexia had been right. As serious and focused these girls could be on a football pitch, whenever they were out of training settings, they turned into a bunch of children, which made the photographer laugh a lot, and their happiness and childish energy showed in the pictures. 

Most of the girls were easy to work with, not being shy in front of the camera and understanding quickly the directions the brunette was giving them. But some, mostly the younger ones, weren't very familiar with all media related things and had a hard time relaxing. Rosalie prided herself in being able to charm these girls into forgetting they were in front of the camera by distracting them with music and making the shooting as casual as she could. Seeing the girls in smaller groups allowed her to get to know them a little better and when the last group came around, she was confident that these girls had accepted her in the Barcelona family. 

The last group consisted of Irene, Fridolina, Marta, Panos and Alexia. Knowing the girls, this would be the calmer group and she wasn’t mad about it. She was definitely feeling the exhaustion of the day toppling over her and adding to the week’s worth of stress and overall tiredness. The brunette was ever grateful for her extra cup of coffee, which sat, cold and half empty on the corner of her desk. Unfortunately, the photographer would not get the chance to thank the captain just yet because the blond was not in the group that had just entered her studio. 

“ Hola chica,” Sandra exclaimed, hugging the smaller brunette. “ Alexia will be running late, she is with the physiotherapist for her knee. I’ll be just the four of us for now.” The French-Canadian would be lying if she said she wasn’t all the more stressed at the prospect of having to have a solo photoshoot with the woman that rendered her a nervous mess, but she put the thought aside and got to work.

The girls ended up being the one that worked the quickest, being used to this sort of duties, but they were certainly not the ones who looked the most at ease in front of the camera. Irene in particular looked comically angry in certain shots where she was meant to look like she was celebrating a goal. Overall their shoot ended quickly, without Alexia ever showing up. 

“ If you want, I can go see what is taking so long and fetch her for you,” Irene said, lingering in the door of the studio. 

“ Oh no, don’t worry. I don’t want to press her, she can come to me when she’s done, I’ll still be here editing the photos till pretty late.”Answered the brunette who was already settling down at her desk. 

“Alright as you wish. Thank you by the way, you’re really good at what you do, it was fun, for once.” The tall woman said before leaving. The statement put a smile on the brunette’s face before she put on some headphones and dived in the multitudes of shots taken during the afternoon. Whenever she works on editing, Rosalie usually completely loses track of time, being pulled into her own little bubble and forgetting the world around her. She was so focused that she did not even realize it was well past her usual work hours and supper was rolling around the corner. Hunger started to make itself known but the photographer was dead set on at least finishing first three groups before leaving for the weekend. Her shooting with Alexia had completely slipped her mind, which made the brunette even more confused when a polite cough pulled her from her work. 

The Catalonian had been standing in the threshold of the photographer’s office for longer than would admit, but the way her reading glasses were placed low on her nose giving her a little secretary vibe, or the way the small brunette would scrunch up her nose whenever she wasn’t certain about a specific angle or even the smile smile that would stretch across her features whenever she would take in her work were simply too enticing for the blond. The only reason Alexia finally made her presence known was the bag containing the paella from her favorite place. Lucy had texted her that the brunette most likely would have forgotten to eat and the football player decided to get something for the photographer to thank her for her patience.

“Hola Rosalia,” 

“ Alexia, hi!” The brunette said, taking her glasses off and getting up to greet the blond. “ How was the physio?”

“ Good, they said everything was stable,” Alexia had just recently been back on the squad after her knee had relapsed, so she had frequent visits to the physio’s office and was very careful during training and games. 

“I’m glad to hear that,”  As the photographer got closer to the blond, an amazing smell reached her nose and reminded her that her last meal had been breakfast. “ Did you bring food?”

The pure excitement emanating from the smaller woman was enough to break the nervousness that was clawing at the captain who smiled and finally stepped in the room to go put down the bags of food on the small coffee table in front of the couch. She pulled out a plastic container filled to the brim with fresh paella and motionned the woman to come sit next to her. “ I did not know what you liked so I brought you my favourite.” 

The smell alone was enough to make Rosalie drool. She sat down and quickly picked up the plastic fork. The blond was looking at her, seemingly waiting for her to take a bite and tell her what she thought. The face and sound that came out of the photographer at the taste made the blond blush furiously which prompted her to turn around to try to hide her reddening cheeks. On the other hand, the other girl seemed completely unaware of what she had just done and simply kept eating the delicious food. 

“ Are you not eating anything?” The brunette asked after a moment.

“No, no I will eat at home.” The truth is that Alexia had simply forgotten to order anything for herself, too worried about making the photographer wait any further. The brunette got up and reached in one of her drawers and pulled out a fork that she then offered to the blond.

“Here, we can share,”

“ No I got this for you, as a thank you for waiting so long.”

“You already got me coffee this morning, thank you by the way, I would not have survived my day without it.” She said smiling, “ Besides, I won’t be able to finish this on my own and it is too good to waste.”

The blond hesitated a moment and then reached for the second fork. They both ate in silence, too absorbed by the food to say anything. Once the plate was empty and the trash disposed of the girls drifted towards the studio part of the room and Alexia, who previously seemed relaxed enough, seemed to tense at the sight of the set up in front of her. 

Rosalie, after a week of observing the team interaction had quickly realized that Alexia, even if she was a seasoned player that was no stranger to the camera, was still incredibly uncomfortable when she was the target of the lens. Seeing the way the captain went rigid when she reached for her camera, the photographer decided that her traditional distracting methods would not be the best way to go about in this particular case.

“ Would you mind grabbing the speaker for me please?”

“ Si,” While the blond was gone, Rosalie rapidly prepped her camera and left it on the side in order to adjust the lighting so it wouldn’t be as harsh for the eyes and wouldn’t blind the football player. 

“ Here, you can go on Spotify and put on anything you like,” She said, handing the captain her phone. 

“What do you usually listen to?” 

“ Anything really, but I wanna know what you like, surprise me.” This made the blond relax a little as she searched for the songs she had in mind. As the photographer was finishing setting up the equipment, she created a small playlist with her favourite songs at the moment and hit shuffle. The first few notes from “Provenza” started playing and the photographer started to sway a little while trying to select the right lens. “ This is nice, very… Spanish.”

“ Wow, how perceptive of you,” The brunette laughed at the comment and turned towards the blond who was standing awkwardly next to the lights. 

“ Can you tell me why you are so tense?”

“ I don’t like pictures.” The answer was short, delivered hastily, making the photographer almost regret asking in the first place, but she had a plan, and she was determined to get some answers out of the captain. 

“ And what don’t you like about them?”

“It is not the pictures I guess, but the camera,” she said with a certain disgust, “ It’s always looking, it’s like you are never really alone, someone is always watching.” 

“ It must be hard, not being able to go out without people pulling out their phones or cameras to catch a glimpse of you. I am sorry there are people who have so little respect for privacy.” The blond offered the photographer a small apologetic smile and took place in front of the background. 

“ How do you want me,... I, I mean where,... Wait, what should I do,” Rosalie brushed off Alexia’s stammering, thinking it was just the nerves and stepped away from her little station.

“ We’re just talking now, you can relax,” 

“ Si, thank you,” 

“How’s the light, are you blinded at all, can you still see me?” 

“ Si, it’s all ok,” the blond shuffled on her spot, “ Have you visited the city a bit since you moved?” 

The brunette was slightly surprised by the blond’s curiosity but gladly answered, taking this as a sign that Alexia was slowly getting more comfortable with her. 

“ Unfortunately not a lot, no, besides the streets around my apartment and the more touristy places, I haven’t seen much, I haven't even seen the beach yet.” A gasp almost made the woman drop her camera on the floor.

“ This is a crime. How could you not? You have to see the sunset, go take pictures, you'll see it’s beautiful.” The expression on the players face was too cute not to capture and the brunette took advantage of the moment to snap a picture of the awe displayed on the taller woman’s face.

“You’re gonna have to show me the good spots though.”

“Si si, Ingrid knows all of them, I can ask her to bring you..”

“ I didn’t ask Ingrid.” The captain instantly blushed at the comment and smiled big. A clic was heard and Alexia’s featured switch to indignation.

“You are distracting me!”

“ Guilty, I'm afraid, now cross your arms and spread out your stance a little bit for me please.” They stayed silent for a moment, the photographer trying different angles and Alexia holding the position she was currently in, harbouring a serious expression, as if ready to take on a whole team alone. Once the brunette lowered her camera Alexia decided to ask the question that had been on her mind since she had set foot in the studio

“ Why photography?”

[blurredcolour]

You Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under | Part One

Your Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under Masterlist

Dick Winters x Female SOE Agent!Reader

The 101st Airborne's jump into Normandy is filled with unexpected surprises for all parties involved.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Weapons, Death, Blood, Gore, Injuries, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Language, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Note: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal of Dick Winters by Damian Lewis. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within. Shout out to my bilingual friend who double checked my French lines for me. Non-English is denoted in italics.

Word Count: 4809

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

Paris – December 10, 1944

The sea of humanity in Gare du Nord was overwhelming as Dick Winters stepped off the train from Mourmelon-le-Grand. Though it was mid-morning on a Sunday, it seemed like everyone was on the move. His height had him standing head and shoulders above most of the crowd as he made his way down the platform toward the exit, nearly bumping into a woman dressed in an olive drab uniform.

“Sorry –” He reflexively apologized in English before correcting it to the local French, though his pronunciation left a lot to be desired. “Excusez-moi.”

You turned back to him, eyes widening with recognition as they flicked over his face. “A captain now.” You smiled as your gaze eventually settled onto the two bars shining on the garrison cap of his Class-A uniform.

“A Canadian now.” He replied as his own eyes settled on the patch embroidered on your shoulder. The hip length jacket, A-line skirt, and peaked cap of the uniform suited you. “Or were you always, Charlotte?” The hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as his green eyes met yours.

He did not miss your visible swallow before you recovered with an even warmer smile than before. “I’m sorry you’ve got me confused with my good friend Charlotte Roussel. She’s told me all about you.” You offered your gloved hand to shake as you introduced yourself properly, though he wondered if it was just another cover identity.

Taking your hand in his, he shook it firmly with a bemused expression playing on his face. “Dick Winters. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, Captain. If you are in need of a place to stay, I happen to have a recently vacated room in my apartment I would be happy to loan to you, free of charge. The hotels in Paris would love nothing more than to liberate you of your American dollars.”

Dick eyed you curiously, still as full of questions as the last time he had seen you in early June, yet you continued to obfuscate. “I wouldn’t want to impose…” He replied in the time-honored tradition of the polite refusal that preceded acceptance.

“Not at all. Besides, Charlotte would not forgive me if I did not repay you for saving her life.” You insisted with a nod, and he swallowed, noticing the way you now wore your hair to carefully cover your forehead beneath your uniform cap.

“If I remember it correctly, she saved mine first.”

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

Normandy – June 6, 1944

After the rattling and jostling of the plane as it flew through clouds and flak, the drop onto French soil had felt peaceful in comparison. Granted of course, there was the constant awareness that enemy fire could find him on his way to the ground, but by some miracle he made it in one piece. The same could not be said of his leg bag.

After linking up with Hall from Able company, the pair had set off into the woods with only one M1 Garand between them. Dick had done his best to remain calm and reassuring despite how poorly the night seemed to be unfolding already. Small touches of humor appeared to calm the young man’s nerves but they both remained hyper vigilant to all sounds around them. Roughly ten minutes from their rendezvous they heard a noise to their right and Dick signalled for them both to halt and get low, but before Hall could level his weapon, they were face-to-face with the muzzle of German K-98 rifle.

Preparing to lunge at the soldier’s legs, Dick was brought up short when a figure in dark clothing jumped onto the man’s back, clamping a gloved hand over his mouth before burying a knife into the side of his neck. The unexpected weight thankfully pulled the weapon toward the sky before the soldier squeezed off a few rounds in the struggle, but the brutally efficient downward stroke of their blade had the soldier quickly collapsing to the ground, neutralized. Left standing was a woman clad in what first looked like a skirt but was in fact very wide-legged slacks and a wool sweater with a cap over her hair and a scarf covering her neck and face up to her eyes.

“Parlez-vous Francais?” You asked in an elevated whisper as you crouched down to wipe the blade of your knife clean on a corner of the dead man’s uniform jacket.

Dick and Hall both shook their heads in silence, dumbfounded.

“Welcome to France.” You smiled a little as you pulled down your scarf to reveal the rest of your face.

Dick was struck by many things in that moment, first and foremost being how beautiful you were, which he quickly compartmentalized as he’d been well trained to do. The second was the lack of a French accent, of any accent to your English. You almost sounded American and yet…

The stirring of brush to the left had them tensing once more before a young man of no more than sixteen, tall but obviously underfed and in clothes that had fit him several inches ago, emerged to pick up the German rifle from the forest floor. The function returned to Dick’s brain all at once and he looked back to you quickly.

“Resistance?”

You nodded in confirmation, glancing between the pair of them before turning to the young man. “Emile, donne le fusil au lieutenant.”

“Mais Charlotte…” He protested, gesturing at the older rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Maitenant, Ils auront une nuit pire que la notre.” You replied in a firm tone that brooked no argument and he handed it over to Dick who thanked him with a nod.

Hall immediately began to dig through the fallen soldier’s pockets to find him some more ammo.

“You’re a lot further inland than we were expecting you.” Your comment brought Dick’s attention back to you and he did his best not to let his annoyance at the situation show.

“Any idea where we’ve ended up?” He asked as he took what Hall was able to scrounge with a nod of thanks, tucking it into the pocket of his ODs.

“Half a kilometre outside St. Mere Eglise. You have a map?” You asked with a tilt of your head, and he hesitated a moment, knowing that while he did, it was covered in confidential material. He watched as a knowing smirk stretched your lips. “I have one without your top-secret information, one moment.”

You raised up on your knees to tuck your knife into the sheath at your hip before reaching up the back of your sweater, the motion inadvertently pulling the fabric higher to reveal the skin of your midriff. He quickly averted his eyes to the tree canopy above, wondering when the training on attractive female Resistance fighters was supposed to have been delivered.

The sound of rustling paper had him glancing carefully toward the ground and he relaxed to see you unfolding a map across the leaves and pine needles that carpeted the forest floor. The four of you gathered around as you took out a lighter, using the weak light from the flame to point out your rough position.

“Easiest way to the coast is the railroad tracks – keep off the roads. There is a squad of about ten Nazis with two officers on a horse-drawn wagon. They are making their way to their favourite spot here.” You tapped the map further into the woods.

“Favorite spot?” He prompted quietly.

“To make members of the Resistance disappear.” You replied grimly, glancing at the simple watch on your wrist. “We set explosives here,” you tapped a spot along the rail line further inland, “to detonate about now. That should help you find your way?” You looked up to him just as the explosion sounded in the distance, a column of orange lighting the sky.

“Bravo, Charlotte. À l’heure juste.” Emile beamed at you, and you nodded in reply with a grin of satisfaction.

“Merci. Any questions, gentlemen?” You asked turning back to the two Americans.

“None. Thank you, Charlotte. Be careful out here.” Dick replied earnestly, hoping you were not headed to the German’s so-called favorite spot, but he held his suspicions.

“Same to you.” You nodded firmly folding up the map as he tapped Hall on the shoulder and the pair began to make their way towards the rail line.

You had been right, the explosion made an excellent beacon. The situation continued to improve when he reconnected with Lipton, Guarnere, Malarkey, Wynn, Toye, and two boys from the 82nd. When he heard the whinny of a horse, he realized you had also given him an accurate warning about the group of Germans.  While Dick presumed it was usually preferable for Resistance to avoid confrontation, with the numbers he had gathered, he preferred to eliminate the threat and arranged an ambush. Mercifully Guarnere’s premature action did not result in the failure of their attack and the men went about cleaning up the mess while Dick took a moment to reprimand him.

They were about to depart down the road when a rustling in the trees caught the hot-headed Sergeant’s ear. “Flash!” He barked out the password challenge in his brash Philly accent, sending everyone’s eyes towards the edge of the road where you stood, flanked by Emile and two other men Dick didn’t recognize.

“Thunder.” He rapidly replied on your behalf. “Don’t shoot, they’re Resistance.” He elaborated, coming to stand beside Guarnere.

“Merci, Lieutenant.” You exhaled. Your reply was muffled behind your scarf, but the relief was still audible.

“Jesus Christ, you’re a dame!” Guarnere hissed, pouring his excess adrenaline into his outburst.

Your barely smothered laugh reached Dick’s ears, making him swallow reflexively as the group watched you make your way to the back of the wagon. One of the older men, his clothes gone baggy under German occupation, carrying a weapon from the last war, grasped a corner of the tarp laying across some hidden cargo. Together you pulled it back to reveal the bodies of two more of your comrades.

“Merde.” Emile choked out and turned to take out his frustrations by kicking one of the fallen Germans at his feet.

Dick could not help the frown as he walked to the back of the wagon, his eyes falling on the form of a young boy no older than twelve.

“Goddamn he’s just a kid…” Malarkey uttered in dismay.

“They’ve got women and kids fighting out here for fuck’s sake.” Toye growled, slamming his helmet onto his head as he wrenched his eyes away from the scene, moving to take watch to the head of the wagon, obviously impatient to get moving.

“I’m sorry it’s not the outcome you were hoping for.” He looked to your eyes, wishing that scarf wasn’t hiding your face.

“But not unexpected.” You muttered back, straightening your sweater before leaning forward over the boy’s body.

“What will you do?” Dick asked as you grasped the boy’s lifeless arm and slung his torso across your shoulders, hugging his legs close to your body beneath your other arm.

“The only thing we can do - take him home to his mother, so she can bury him.” You replied as the fourth man with you, mid-forties with a build not unlike Randleman’s though still wasted away some, stepped forward to gather the remains of the twenty-something still on the wagon. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Good luck.” You met his eyes briefly, revealing your own glistening with unshed tears, before disappearing through the trees the way you had come.

The next twenty hours passed in a blur – finally reaching the assembly point, destroying the 105mm guns at Brécourt, losing Hall. Would that he could return the boy to his mother as you had been able to do with your fallen. As Dick watched Nixon open the can of food he’d been struggling with, he sighed deeply.

“Met a Resistance fighter in the woods after I landed – she spoke perfect English, Nix. No trace of any accent, at all. The men were all looking to her for direction.”

Nixon raised his eyes to meet his meaningfully. “No shit…” He blinked and handed him the successfully opened food. “Sounds to me like you met a genuine SOE agent assigned to ‘set Europe ablaze.’” His tone was dripping with envy. “Division wasn’t entirely convinced by Churchill’s boasts. She must be one tough broad.”

“She seemed pretty proficient, Lew.” Dick replied with poorly concealed admiration, eyeing the contents of the can reluctantly.

“We ought to send Churchill a thank you card, then.” He smirked knowingly.

Dick let out a half-hearted laugh before his face fell serious once more. He looked to his boots before confessing to the loss of Hall, which Nixon tried to make up for by reassuring him the map he’d retrieved would be useful. Surrendering the food with the excuse of lack of appetite, Dick wandered off lost in thought.

Honestly never expecting to lay eyes upon you again, he was stunned to see you in a hamlet somewhere between Culoville and Vierville the next day. It was no more than a tiny cluster of buildings on both sides of the road, too small to earn a name on the map. The road was clogged with refugees, fleeing the conflict, slowing the progress of the armored division they were meant to be traveling with.

Dick had diverted Easy across a nearby field behind the hedgerow, bringing them to a halt to plan their final approach, his officers naturally gathering around him.

“Christ there’s civilians everywhere.” Welsh hissed under his breath as they peered through the foliage.

“So, who’s going to knock on the door?” Compton grinned, his bulk barely concealed by the late spring greenery.

Dick paused, squinting through his binoculars as he watched you carefully set your wagon, filled with suitcases and other belongings like any other refugee, beneath the window of a café. Your gaze was fixed on the boulangerie across the lane, seeming of a mind to purchase some food for your travels. His eyes followed as you wended your way through the dwindling stream of people, clad in a spring jacket with a worn brown dress beneath, a pair of dusty boots on your feet. You stood out to no one but him.

“Dick?” Nixon prompted in a hushed whisper.

“Hold. The Resistance is here. Which means we most likely have Germans lurking nearby.”

“Resistance?” Nixon’s eyes widened as he fumbled with his jacket to retrieve his own binoculars. “You mean she’s here?!” He whirled to face the road, his movements made less than graceful by his excitement, and Dick barely contained his amused grin as you had already vanished inside the bakery.

His amusement did not last long, unfortunately, as a red-faced German solider came charging out of the café.

“Bingo.” Nixon breathed quietly.

Dick’s lips pressed into a grimace as the man re-emerged shortly thereafter dragging you by a fistful of your hair, shouting and pointing at your wagon. Any remaining civilians on the road quickly scattered into the other buildings or the fields beyond.

“He’s upset about the wagon.”

“You don’t say, Nixon” Compton replied sarcastically, a furrow forming between his brows.

Your voice carried to them, the pleading tone laced with fear making Dick tighten his grip on his binoculars. He could tell you were speaking a mixture of French and German, but not much more than that. “Lew?”

“Please in German…Please in French. I was just getting food. I’m sorry in German. I’m trying to get away from the Americans in French. The death in German. Please.”

Dick could hear the men shifting restlessly around him and lifted his head. “Tell them to hold, not yet. That café has got to be full of Germans. Plan on snipers in the fourth and fifth buildings as well.” He described the assault plan for each of the squads as your pleas continued to ring out parried by barked commands from the increasingly perturbed soldier. “But wait for my signal.” He nodded firmly to dismiss them, and they hurried off to their respective platoons.

Dick wanted to trust that you had the situation in hand, but this surely could not be unfolding according to your plan. He raised his binoculars once more to see you desperately plant your hands on the soldier’s chest, several men drawing a collective breath. Dick narrowed his eyes as your gaze shifted to the left, toward the face of your watch glinting in the afternoon sunlight. He tensed noting your proximity to that wagon, convinced now more than ever that it was filled with explosives.

The sharp ‘smack’ of the German’s glove impacting your cheek had your head snapping to the side in a way that had Dick seeing red.

“I’m going to kill him myself.” Nixon hissed under his breath, but Dick didn’t have time to respond as, surging forward, you slammed your forehead into the soldier’s nose, a bloom of red flooding down his face and yours.

He held his breath as you seemed to stumble back, a bit dazed as a commotion sounded from within the café, but he was able to exhale as you regained your feet and used your ankle to sweep the man’s jackboots right out from beneath him. Dick glanced to the wagon once more with apprehension as you yourself dove to the ground before grabbing the back of the dazed soldier’s coat and hauled his body over yours. He had barely shifted his gaze to the collection of five Germans in the doorway when the wagon exploded violently.

“Right on time…” He muttered to himself, tucking his binoculars away and preparing to advance.

Nixon turned to stare at him, speechless.

“Don’t.” He replied warningly, still unsure if you had survived the blast, giving the debris a moment to settle before he gave the signal, heading straight up the road to you.

Much to everyone’s annoyance, the telltale sound of Shermans approached from further up the road – just in time to get all the glory without really having to do any of the work. As planned, the men peeled off to clear each of the buildings as Dick rolled the dead German off your body. He watched with bated breath as Roe appeared at his side to check your pulse, nodding up to him.

“She’s alive, sir.”

The road was filled with broken glass from the explosion, and fearing for the bare skin of your legs, Dick had Roe help carry you into the bakery as Malarkey reported it clear, the medic sliding his arms beneath your shoulders. Dick did his best to ignore how soft the backs of your knees felt against his fingertips as he managed your legs. They laid you down on the floor in the back room amongst abandoned baking supplies and he swallowed as your eyes fluttered open.

“Charlotte, you’re alright, Doc’s just going to look you over, ok?”

You furrowed your brows and glanced down at Roe as he undid your coat, looking you over for injuries aside from the obvious scrapes as Dick quickly pressed a bandage to the split in your forehead from where you had broken the German’s nose.

“You’re in good hands, I need to go back out there alright?”

You sighed heavily and he looked to your eyes quickly.

“I’m sure you’re speaking in that fucking wonderful American accent of yours, Lieutenant but I cannot hear a fucking thing. I’m sorry.” You spoke, seemingly unaware that your voice was obnoxiously loud.

Dick grimaced at your language as Roe barely contained his scoff of laughter before Dick nodded to you to show that he understood. Eyes pinning yours, he pointed at you firmly before forcefully pointing at the floor.

“Stay here. Understood.” You replied with a nod, a loud groan quickly overtaking your voice.

Dick hesitated a moment, but Roe was already looking over your face and into your eyes. There was really nothing for him to do here and his men needed him outside. Securing his helmet on his head, he dashed back out into the afternoon sunshine. Aside from one sniper’s nest three buildings down the road, which was easily managed with the help of the armored division, the hamlet was secured with only one minor incident involving Muck and some broken glass.

At Nixon’s urging, which Dick allowed to play out much longer than was needed to convince him, he ordered two stretcher bearers to accompany him back to the bakery to fetch you. He was encouraged to find you sitting with your back propped up against the wall, looking more alert with your knife grasped with one hand, though you had not seemed to have had the wherewithal to unsheathe it. He crouched down in front of you carefully, sliding his helmet from his head.

“I’m just going to take that from you, there Charlotte.” He wasn’t sure why he was speaking, fully aware that you could not hear him, but your grip loosened on the weapon as he reached for it.

“Alright.” You murmured softly in response and his eyes snapped to yours.

“You can hear again?” He asked as he tucked the knife into the pocket of his ODs.

You began to nod before halting the movement abruptly. “Mostly…”

“Good. That’s good.” He smiled briefly. “Do you have any other weapons on you?”

“No.” You replied after a thoughtful pause and patting of your coat pockets.

He nodded before standing, addressing the men lingering in the doorway. “Take her to the aid station, Lieutenant Nixon and I will be there as soon as we can.”

They responded with a chorus of ‘yes sirs!’ before he stepped back out to deliver orders for the company to take a rest while they awaited their next set of instructions. It was not long before they were told to proceed to Vierville where Colonel Sink had set up the battalion command post. It was also, conveniently, where the aid station was located. Once the men were situated for the night, Dick and Nixon quickly made their way to hotel that had been taken over as a medical facility.

They had barely walked in the door, the copper tang of blood just meeting their noses, before the battalion surgeon was calling out to him.

“Winters! Why in the hell did you send me a civilian?!”

“Strategic intelligence asset, sir.” Nixon replied smoothly, stepping in front of Dick to take the heat. “Where might we find her?”

“In one of the back offices. She cannot stay here. She needs to go a hospital whenever you’re done…whatever you’re doing.” He narrowed his eyes skeptically, hands on his hips as made his way over to them between the rows of cots set up in the lobby.

“She going to be alright, sir?” Dick asked, tone carefully neutral.

“Concussion, lacerations, bruising, three stitches to the forehead, hearing gradually returning. Overall malnourishment like all the French civilians. She’ll be fine after a week or two.” He muttered. “In a civilian hospital.”

“Yes sir.” Nixon replied quickly with a grin, grabbing Dick’s arm and pulling him towards the aforementioned office.

For all his bluster, the pair were amused to find the surgeon had set you up in a rather nice space, a blanket draped over your legs and a mug of hot coffee in your hands. Though judging by the grimace you made after taking a sip, it wasn’t to your taste. Your hair pins must have fallen out during the struggle and subsequent transport as the style you’d been wearing that afternoon was lost, and a few swathes of gauze now encircled your head to hold a bandage in place over your stitches.

He knocked on the door frame quietly and you looked up, smiling at little, your eyes shifting to look at Nixon.

“Charlotte, this is Lieutenant Nixon.” Dick introduced his friend who quickly stepped forward to offer his hand.

“Lewis, please.” You took it carefully, shaking it in return.

“Charlotte Roussel.” You replied.

“Would it be alright if we asked you some questions?” Dick tilted his head, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Of course.” You almost nodded again but caught yourself more quickly this time.

Dick stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and perching on the edge of the desk as Nixon took the only chair. He tried not to grin as you sipped the coffee and grimaced once more, obviously failing to conceal his reaction as you apologized.

“It’s very bitter, but very appreciated.”

“I won’t tell the surgeon.” He nodded with a conspiratorial look.

“So, Dick tells me you’re with the Resistance?” Nixon spoke after a moment of watching your exchange.

Your eyes slid over to Dick, and he tensed, briefly concerned you might be upset with him, before you looked back to Nixon. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Any information you might be able to share with us would be of great assistance.” Nixon nodded encouragingly.

“Well, all of my documents were quite recently destroyed but I’d be happy to share what I remember with you. Do you have a map?” Your question echoed one of the first you’d asked him and pulled a small smile from Dick’s lips.

He watched quietly as Nixon produced as clean map of the area and you easily provided all the information you had on which German troops were stationed where, between wincing sips of the hot drink cupped between your hands. The intelligence officer thrust out his palm about halfway through and Dick patted down his ODs until he produced a pencil for his friend, passing it to him so he might jot down the volume of information you were able to impart.

“And what about yourself, Miss Roussel?” Nixon looked up to you once he’d acquired all your knowledge of military use.

“Me?” You blinked innocently.

“Tell us about yourself.” Nixon nodded encouragingly, leaning back in his chair.

Dick noted the way your fingers tightened slightly on the mug, and he realized it bore the logo of the requisitioned hotel, but otherwise your demeanor remained calm and collected. “I was born just outside Paris in 1920. My aunt and uncle have a farm near St. Mere Eglise. They have no children of their own and when my Uncle Phillipe was killed during the invasion my Aunt Sophie asked if I could come help her. There is more to eat out here than Paris anyway, where you can grow it.”

“Why do you speak such good English?” Dick asked, unable to help himself.

Your eyes turned to meet his curiously. “I was a university student before the war, I had an excellent teacher from America. Ms. Jones. She was able to go home before the Nazis arrived.”

There was a touch of envy there, and though Dick was convinced you were selling them a very good story, the desire for ‘home’ struck him as true. He watched as you leaned back against the wall wearily, your eyelids growing heavier.

“You’ve never been to England?” Nixon prodded.

“No, Lieutenant Nixon. I’ve never left France.”

“Your experience with explosives? Who taught you that?”

“Antoine. He fought in the last war, he was a sapper. He was there after you took out the Germans who had captured our comrades.” You looked to Dick who nodded in reply, recalling the elderly man who easily could have fit that description.

He heard his friend sigh a little in frustration as you seemed to have a perfectly reasonable answer for everything – answers that were not what he was wanting to hear. A sharp knock on the door drew the attention of the group and Dick raised his head.

“Enter.”

A runner from Colonel Sink popped his head in the door and Dick sighed internally knowing they had run out of time. “Lieutenants, Colonel Sink has requested the pair of you at battalion CP immediately.”

“Right, thank you Sergeant. We’re on our way.” He looked to Nixon who sighed audibly in defeat before the pair looked to you.

You were barely keeping your eyes open, the mug in your hand tilting precariously. Dick carefully took it from your hold and set it on the desk.

“Thank you very much for your assistance, Miss Roussel. Do take care.” He stood, wishing there was something better to say, but there was too much to do. The landing had barely taken place and was by no means a sure success yet. The best thing he could do for you was to get out there and liberate France entirely.

“I’ll see to it that you’re transferred to a hospital as soon as we can.” Nixon added.

“You’re welcome, Lieutenants. And thank you.” You replied, Dick swallowing as he could feel your gaze following him out of the room.

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

Read Part Two

Your Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under Masterlist

[michellesmusing]

ABOUT ME

First name: Michelle

Nickname: Subikid… Where did It come from? I have owned 5 Subaru cars in my life (I love Subarus). Love to drive and I love everything about cars. One day, I saw on a Subaru Facebook group, someone who had this license plate and decided to get the same for my car… It’s now my nickname at work and to everyone who knows me ahah! Zodiac Sign: I was born on August 31st, so I’m a Virgo Birthplace: Quebec, Canada  Height: 5’3” What are you doing for a living: Remember when I said that I love Subarus? Well my dream job was to either become a parts advisor or service advisor for The Subaru Dealership here in my town, and this since 2013… My dad passed away on November 1st, 2020 and I decided to go back to school to get a diploma in Parts/Service Advisor. Alas when I got my Diploma, Subaru didn’t have a job for me and I was quite sad, I knew everyone working there and I wanted to be part of that Subaru Dealership. Hyundai Hired on March 2022 me and I quickly learned the job as a Service Advisor, and I really did enjoy it (For 11 months I did own An Elantra N Line)  In August 2023, Subaru was looking for a Service Advisor and even though the men and women at Hyundai were super cool, I wanted to be part of the Subaru Team. I called Max (The Service Manager) and ask him if could meet him and the new boss and an hour later, I was shaking hands with the new boss! I left Hyundai on September 21st and on September 22nd, I was already at Subaru! Where you would go if you could travel anywhere right now:  I’d go back to Las Vegas. I lived there for a year (well, almost) and I really did love it! I’m glad to be back in my hometown though, but I miss Vegas. I miss the Desert and its Landscape… And The Dry Heat ahha! The things you’re allergic to: Hmm I’m allergic to nothing, but I can’t eat Pineapple. My stomach burns like hell after this!! Your favorite type of food: I really enjoy Pasta, Seafood, and Tacos!

Favorite Sports: As a Kid I grew up Playing Hockey, hey, I’m Canadian after all🤣, Skateboarding and Snowboarding were my favorite sport from 1996 to 2022, I had to stop though, thanks to my right knee that love to dislocate from its groove (after 10 patella luxations, I had to say goodbye to snowboarding, and plus the luxations didn’t even occur while snowboarding… Not cool!) I love working out, Cycling and Swimming.

Tattoos and Piercings?: My right arm is covered in Tattoos (We could say a Sleeve, right?) One tattoo on my left arm, and 3 others on the back and 2 on the neck. I got ears piercings like most human beings on earth ahah!  Your go-to cocktail order:  I love a good Rhum & Coke. I actually enjoy getting a new Rhum bottle each time I’m out of rhum, so I can taste and discover a new Rhum each time! The last song you played on Spotify:  Blue on Black - Kenny Wayne Shepherd To be honest, I enjoy a lot of music styles… From the 80’s, 90’s, Electronic music (Above & Beyond, Armin Van Buuren and many others), Alternative rock, Pop, and Country. I don’t really like Rap though 😐 Your guilty pleasure TV show:  I love everything about Cars mechanic shows where they’re revamping cars haha! If not, my favorite shows are “Breaking Bad”, “Better Call Saul”, “Timeless”, “The OA”, “Chernobyl”, “True Blood”, “Six Feet Under” and “The Sopranos”

Favorite Actors and Actresses: Goran Višnjić, Willem Dafoe, Stellan Skarsgård, Alexander Skarsgård, Keanu Reeves, Dennis Hopper, Mark Rufallo, Eric Bana and John Cusack // Charlize Theron, Saoirse Ronan, Reese Witherspoon, Anna Paquin, and Shailene Woodley.

The languages that you’re fluent in: I was born in Quebec, so my first Language is French. I Started learning English when I was 7 years old. My mother grew up in Toronto and she had many books in English and I simply loved the language, and I wanted to learn it as fast as I could! English is my second language, and I use it a lot for my job as most terms used on work orders are in English, and so are the car parts! I know a bit of Spanish, but never really got the interest in learning it. A strange talent that you have: Quite Frankly I don’t know haha! Let me think about it   The names of your pets: I only have one pet and it’s a Sphynx Male cat named Igor. The best place you’ve ever been to: Phi Phi Islands in Thailand. It was Epic! Would do it again! Especially since I love traveling and flying! What you wanted to be when you grew up: After seeing “Twister” on VHS in 1997, I wanted to become a Storm Chaser. I always did love observing Severe Weather. I was the kid on a BMX bike riding outside when the sky was growling!! I once got caught in a Thunderstorm and saw a bolt of lightning striking a power line near me, needless to say that I screamed at the tops of my lungs hahah! What would you pick if you won a sweepstake that gave you a lifetime supply of anything you wanted? Free food hahaha! Your favorite memory from your childhood. I think it’s the fact that I grew up with the same childhood friends for over 12 years. We were together everyday and without them, my childhood wouldn’t be the same. I still talk to one of my childhood friend everyday 🙂 What you were known for in high school. Hahaha! I used to love Wrestling (Especially The Undertaker) During my teenage years. I was also a tomboy and loved doing sports with the guys at school. So I was known for that I’d say. The career you almost ended up pursuing.  I wanted to become an English Teacher… But It never happened. I did enjoy doing Theater as well, I did a lot in High School and I miss that a lot! I’m also an aircrafts enthusiast, and I would've loved to work in an Airport or a job related to the Aircraft industry. If there’s a plane passing by, you can bet I will look up at the sky! ✈ Your biggest fear. Spiders and Pool Drains hahah! If I go to a pool I’ve never been to, I will check first where the drains are located. That’s my weird side 😛 The celebrity you’d most want to meet. That one is easy, right? Ahha! I’d like to meet Goran Višnjić, have lunch with him, hear him talking about his career and have a selfie with him haha! Of course, I really doubt it will happen, unless he comes to Quebec for a theater play or a movie 😛

My Instagram 

[crimeronan]

the fondest specific compliment i’ve gotten on my toh fic is that everyone swears in a way that’s very true to character. where it feels like they Definitely talk like this offscreen, like it flows naturally & isn’t jarring despite the G-rated source material

this delights me because i have spent SO MUCH time thinking about the owl house cast and how different people swear. limiting this post to POVs i’ve written but here’s a few headcanons

luz: almost never swears. if she does she’s either doing it for Maximum Emphasis or because it’s very funny in a very specific situation with very specific peers (hunter & willow. she can’t swear in front of amity or gus bc she feels like she’s tarnishing her Innocent Image). even when luz CAN say “fuck” in T-rated properties, she does in fact default to “jeez” and “crikey” and “wow” and “EAUGHHH NO OH NO EUGH NO” at all times. some people swear in their other main language around english speakers but luz is not one of these people. generally in situations where most reasonable individuals would yell “HEY ASSHOLE” or “DUDE??? WHAT THE FUCK????”...... she simply throws things and/or starts biting. That’s My Daughter

hunter: swears more than luz but still not Super Often. most common go-tos are ‘shit’ as a panicked exclamation & ‘bullshit’ as an unimpressed observation. he knows more curse words than anyone else in the show including eda because of How The Coven Scouts Are. several of the curse words are wholly made-up epithets shared by approximately ten trauma-bonded weirdo soldiers. that said, he.... legitimately does not know which muttered oaths are just weird idioms versus Actual Swears bc he’s never Needed to know. (formal speak with belos automatically removes all of these informal interjections in the first place, and no one else is gonna question how The Golden Guard talks, so.... no reason to learn.) if anyone tries to explain these nuances to him later in life he will get into an autistic shouting match about how that’s SO STUPID and UNNECESSARY and MAKES NO SENSE you DUMBSHIT MOTHERF-

eda: tries hard to tone down her language around The Chillens but swears... sssSSSO MUCH. sailor tongue ahoy the woman was raised by wolves (ie: her mom who even in her old age will still shout “YEAH RUN YOU PUNK-ASS BITCH” at randos on the street). eda says “fuck” aloud an average of once or twice in any given fic chapter but should say it more. if i ever write her alone with raine it will become 200 times per chapter because with raine she casually flips back to her high school self and all her creative teen lingos. yknow, back before she learned to be all Mature and Professional. a class act. as she rifles through heaps of garbage and develops hives at any sign of emotional intimacy

darius: theoretically swears a lot and has nothing AGAINST a very verbose “motherfucker son of a bitch dick-for-brains are you fucking SHITTING me you INCOMPETENT-” however he USUALLY uses boiling isles swears. not because he’s being censored by the writers but because a muttered “mother of titans i’m begging you to come down and cast these fucking imbeciles into the boiling sea before i lose my fuckdamned SHI-” is just. Yeah. That’s Him. darius is the guy who WOULD be saying ‘jesus h christ’ and ‘christ on a stick shift’ and ‘mother mary of god PLEASE either end this meeting early or STRIKE ME DEAD BEFORE MASS’ except. yknow, he’s got other religious figures to invoke. sidenote he’s been dying to shout “KIIIIISS MYYYY ASSSSSS” at 98% of his coworkers for 30 straight years. to the point that he sometimes dreams about it

bonus

camila: swears exclusively in french (a language in which she is not fluent) bc she doesnt want luz picking up bad language. she learned these expressions from an old friend from montreal which means that luz now has a weirdly broad knowledge of extremely rude quebecois slang without knowing any specific definitions. she just knows that these are words you recite to french-canadians if you want to start a bar fight.

[bibbawrites]

First Man - Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Request: NONE

Word Count: 1735 words 

Summary: the song First Man by Camila Cabello but make it about Charlie Gillespie

Warnings: i think theres one swear word and thats all ?

A/N: so i had originally written this for another fandom that i am no longer in but i decided to change it to charlie cause why not  this is literally just the song first man by camila cabello, so go listen to that if you dont know it haha  again i tried to make this gender neutral but i may have messed up at one point so if i did im very sorry  anyways hope you enjoy this little fluffy piece 

Tag List:  @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ @littlemissaddict @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @headheartbellarke @lovesanimals​ @bartok-the-bat @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik

Winter 2019

It was a mild Winter's afternoon in LA. You walked down the stairs of your family home, bag in hand, smiling when you spotted your family sitting around the table, a board game in the middle.

"Y/N! Come join us!" Your mum called when she spotted you enter the room. You shook your head.

"Maybe another time, sorry guys. I'm actually just heading out, I'm gonna stay with Charlie tonight... is that okay?" Your father sighed before nodding.

"When will we get to meet this Charlie boy that we hear so much about?" He asked, standing up to walk over to you. You shrugged.

"I'm not too sure, but it will be soon, I promise." You grinned. Your little sister looked up from the game board.

"What's he like Y/N?" She asked, looking at you intently. A soft smile appeared on your face at the thought of your boyfriend.

"He's really sweet. He's funny, just like you Dad. He’s not super tall but it doesn’t even matter. And he loves dragging me along on hikes." You paused.

"I really like him." You finished. Your dad frowned slightly, but hid it quickly.

"That's nice to hear darling. Don't forget a jacket, okay?" He told you. You looked at your father knowingly. He had been like this with every boy you’d ever brought home, not that you'd brought home tons of boys before.

"No it's okay, it’s not that cold outside today. Besides, he's waiting outside for me." You said, glancing down at your phone to see the text from Charlie.

'I'm here' it read. You looked back up again, noticing your father watching you. He stepped closer, pulling you into a hug.

"Don't freak out Dad, I'll be fine." You assured him. He squeezed you tightly.

"I just worry about you." You smiled, pulling away.

"I know, I get that. But I'm an adult now Dad. I got this."

"I know, I know." He sighed. By now the rest of the family had gone back to their game.

You patted your dad on the chest before turning to leave, stopping when your hand touched the doorknob. You turned back around to face your father.

"Just remember Dad, you were the first man that really loved me." And with that you turned back to the door and left, leaving your dad to smile sadly. His little baby was growing up.

 Summer 2020

It was Summer and you and Charlie had a few days off from work. You had decided to head back to LA together, to visit your family. After all, you had been dating for over a year and Charlie still hadn't met your family yet. The family that you spoke so highly of.

You touched down at LAX and made your way through security quickly.

"You ready?" You asked, holding tightly to Charlie's hand as you made your way to baggage claim, where you had organised to meet your parents.

"Honestly? I'm fucking petrified." Charlie responded, causing you to laugh.

"You'll be fine. Everyone loves you Char, and my family will be no different." You walked around the corner, spotting your Dad quickly.

"Dad!" You called, rushing over to hug your father. Charlie walked over slowly. You pulled away and grinned, glancing at Charlie.

"Dad, I'd like to meet my boyfriend, Charlie." You introduced. "Char, this is my dad, Sam."

Charlie held his hand out for your dad to shake.

"It's nice to officially meet you Mr Y/L/N. Can I call you Sam?" He smiled nervously. Your father looked him up and down before taking his hand and shaking it.

"Sir will do. Charlie, short for Charles I assume?" His glare was stone cold. Charlie swallowed, nodding.

"Yes sir, but I prefer Charlie." Your father nodded before turning his attention back to you.

"How long are you two here for?" He asked, ignoring Charlie, who moved to grab the both of your bags that were coming along the carousel.

"We have 8 days off, but we're only here for 4." You responded. Your dad nodded.

"Well I guess that's better than nothing. Come on let's go, your mother is waiting in the car outside. She didn't want to pay for parking so she's been driving around while I waited in here."

And with that the three of you headed outside to the car.

 Luckily for Charlie the rest of your family weren't as scary as your father was.

Your mother was lovely, and she had been very welcoming, even speaking to him in French when it was brought up that the two shared a common language.

Your brothers were really cool and invited him to join them to play video games whenever he wanted.

And your little sister, well, she adored the Canadian boy from the minute he walked through the front door.

And just like that Charlie’s first day at the Y/L/N house was over.

After sitting outside for hours with you and your parents, Charlie decided to head off to bed, and with a quick kiss for you and a murmured "goodnight" he was gone.

"So what do you think?" You asked once you knew that Charlie was well and truly inside.

"He's lovely darling." Your mother told you, smiling. You turned to your father.

"Dad?" You asked. Your father shrugged.

"He's not too bad, I guess." He admitted. You shook your head slightly. Of course your father would say that.

"I met his family you know? They're really nice, just like you guys." You told your parents.

"Oh, that's good sweetie." Your mum grinned.

"His parents are great, they're really down to earth. And his brothers and sister are really cool. Plus they love their hockey." You looked at your dad as you said the last part, knowing how big of a hockey fan he was. Your dad nodded in appreciation.

"That's good to hear. If they like hockey they must be good people." Your mother nodded in agreement with her husband. You fell into a comfortable silence for a few seconds.

"You know..." You began, breaking the silence. "I think he might be the one." Your mother put her hand up to her mouth, unable to hide her excitement.

"Oh Y/N, you really think so?" She asked. You nodded.

"Yeah, I really love him." You smiled.

"And he's a good man?" Your dad questioned, fixing his gaze on you. You nodded quickly.

"I swear on my heart. He loves me, and he'd never hurt me." You assured him.

"Good." He said, and with that the conversation was over, the topic changing to gossip about a family friend who's husband had cheated on her.

And later when you were heading off to bed you made sure to give your dad an extra big hug and remind him softly that he was the first man that really loved you.

 The four days passed quickly and before anyone knew it, it was time for you and Charlie to leave.

Your family gathered on the driveway, next to Charlie’s car that he had collected on your second day back. After a few hugs with your siblings Charlie moved to bid farewell to your parents. Your mother pulled him into a hug.

"It was lovely to meet you darling." She said softly, before pulling away.

"You too." He smiled. "It was lovely to meet all of you."

"Don't be a stranger Charlie." She said.

"Yeah come back all the time." Your little sister agreed. Charlie nodded.

"I'll make sure of it." He turned his attention to your father, holding out his hand for him to shake. Your father took it, shaking it firmly.

"Thank you for having me sir." Charlie smiled politely. Your father paused, before faking a smile.

"It was no problem." You exchanged a knowing look with your mother. You both knew that your father didn't think that Charlie deserved you.

After a few more goodbyes you and Charlie hopped into the car and left, waving to your family as you pulled out. You had barely made it to the end of the street before you grabbed Charlie's arm.

"Wait we need to go back." You said quickly.

"Why?" Charlie asked, but turned around nonetheless.

"I forgot to tell my dad something." He pulled up in front of the house and you jumped out quickly, rushing over to your father who was still outside. He looked at you in confusion.

"I forgot to say, remember you were the first man who really loved me." You smiled softly, and with one last hug you left again.

 Spring 2022

It was a beautiful Spring day in Hawaii. You and your father were stood together at the top of the beach, dressed to the nines, him in a fancy suit and you in your chosen wedding outfit.

It was almost time.

Time for you to walk down the aisle and marry the love of your life.

You looked over at your father, noticing his tie was slightly crooked. You took a step closer, and fixed the tie, watching as he tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall. You smiled softly at him.  

"You know, I've never seen you cry before." You whispered. Your dad smiled, a tear falling down his cheek.

"You just look so beautiful Y/N. No matter what, you'll always be my little baby." He responded, pulling you into a hug.

As you separated the music began to play, and he held his arm out for you to take.

"Here we go." You whispered, and the two of you began your walk down the beach to where Charlie was waiting, teary eyed, at the end of the aisle.

As you walked, your father found himself looking over at you, taking in the tears of happiness and the look of love that you were giving Charlie. Your dad smiled to himself, glad that you had finally found the perfect man for you.

You reached the end of the aisle and you pulled your father into a hug.

"Remember," You whispered. "You were the first man who really loved me." You pulled away, stepping back. Your dad hesitated for a second before stepping forward to pull Charlie into a hug.

"Take care of my little angel." He whispered. Charlie nodded.

"Of course Sir." They pulled apart and your dad smiled softly.

"You can call me Sam."

[fruitcoops]

Would love to see a wired autocomplete interview with coops! 🥰

Anon, did you read my mind? These two have such chaotic energy when they’re given an outlet and it was a true pleasure to write it. Dorcas is exhausted. Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Wait, I want to pull the tab,” Remus said, tugging on the edge of the cardboard lightly as Sirius tried to hold it out of his reach without falling off his chair.

“I get to read it out loud for you and then we switch!” Sirius protested, smacking him gently on the head with it. The resulting bonk noise made them both break down laughing.

“You guys know we’re rolling, right?” Dorcas asked as she gathered a stack of cards in her lap, looking highly amused.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She turned to the camera with a bright smile. “Welcome back to Lion Pride, hockey fans! I’m Dorcas Meadowes and I’m here today with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to answer some of the internet’s most pressing questions. How are you two feeling?”

“Terrified,” Sirius said.

“The internet is like the Twilight Zone,” Remus agreed. “Who goes first?”

“Sirius, you’ve got a card already. Take it away.”

He cleared his throat and grabbed the edge of the first pull tab, ripping it off slowly. “That is so satisfying, woah. How tall is Remus Lupin?”

“I am five foot eleven and a half.”

“That half inch comes from your sneakers and you know it.”

“It does not!”

Sirius just smiled and removed the next paper slip. “What language does Remus Lupin speak?”

“I speak English and a little bit of French. Tried to learn Spanish in high school, but failed miserably.”

“I love the wording on this one,” Sirius said as he turned the board toward the camera. “Remus Lupin Green Bay Packers.”

“Dammit, now everyone knows my full name,” Remus sighed. “Uh, the Packers are cool.”

“I think people were wondering if you ever played on the team,” Dorcas said.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like a football player to you?”

“Next question!” Sirius ripped the tab off and took a good section of the paper above with it. There was a beat of stunned silence. “I am…so sorry.”

Behind the camera, Marlene burst out laughing, along with most of the camera crew. “It’s fine, keep reading.”

“Okay, um…” Sirius squinted at the partially torn-off question. “Remus Lupin name meaning.”

Remus groaned. “I hate this question. Yes, it does mean Wolf Wolf. Yes, my dad’s name also means Wolf Wolf. Yes, my mother’s maiden name is Howell. I’m aware of the endless puns.”

“Don’t you mean a-were?” Sirius asked as a slow grin spread across his face. Remus grabbed the card and bonked him over the head with it.

“Remus, your turn.” Dorcas handed him a poster board and took the blank one.

“I’m going to be careful with this one, unlike somebody,” he teased, kissing Sirius on the cheek. “Is Sirius Black…related to Pascal Dumais?”

“In all the ways that matter, yes.”

Remus grinned when he read the next one. “Is Sirius Black missing a tooth?”

“No!” Sirius gave the camera an offended look. “I have all my teeth, thank you very much.”

“Is Sirius Black mean?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Reporters don’t like you very much.”

“The feeling is mutual. I love the fans though, most of them are so sweet.”

“Oh, I like this one. Is Sirius Black married?” Remus rested his chin on the top of the card and batted his eyelashes, making Sirius laugh.

“Almost! Ask me again in July.” Remus set the card on the floor and Dorcas passed Sirius a new one. “Does Remus Lupin wear glasses?”

“Nope.”

“Does Remus Lupin—I have never said your name so many times in one sitting, my god—does Remus Lupin have siblings?”

“Yup.”

“Does Remus Lupin—”

“Can you elaborate?” Dorcas asked with a laugh. “How many siblings? Names? Ages?”

Remus turned to the camera. “I have one brother named Julian and he’s ten years old. He likes piggyback rides, ice cream, and hockey.”

“Much better. Take it away, Cap.”

“Does Remus Lupin have allergies?”

Remus frowned in confusion. “Why do people want to know that? Uh, yeah, I’m allergic to some pollens. Spring is hell.”

“How many of these do we have?” Sirius asked as he tossed the board over his shoulder and crossed his legs.

“Quite a few! Loops, you’re up.”

“Where is Sirius Black from?”

“Canada.”

“Where does Sirius Black live?”

“The Lions ice rink. I set up a tent in the middle of the goal posts every night so that I’m never late to practice.”

“Sirius Black gay.”

Sirius paused. “I think we’re missing a couple words in there.”

“That’s literally all it says,” Remus laughed, moving it to show him. “Sirius Black gay. I don’t know, honey, Sirius Black gay?”

“Sirius Black very gay,” he confirmed. “Sirius Black thinks people need to have better grammar.”

“Is Sirius Black’s hair naturally curly?”

“No, I use a curling iron every morning to do each individual curl,” he said. “It takes me seven hours and thirteen minutes, and I use a full can of hairspray.”

Remus scooted over so Dorcas could hand him a new card. “He keeps a stopwatch and tries to beat his personal record every time.”

Sirius pulled the first tab away and immediately started laughing too hard to speak.

“What does it say? You can’t just leave me hanging!” Sirius turned the board around and Remus leaned down to read it. “Is Remus Lupin hockey? Yes. I am the entire sport of hockey condensed into one being. I’m coming for basketball next. Thanks for asking!”

It took a few seconds for Sirius to get his breath back. “What is Remus Lupin—”

“I thought we just answered that.”

“—what is Remus Lupin zodiac sign?”

Remus paused. “Is that the thing Pots was talking about the other day? With the quiz?”

“That was love languages.”

“Your zodiac sign depends on your birthday,” Marlene called. “When were you born?”

“March 10th.”

“You’re a Pisces.”

“I’m a Pisces!” he said brightly to the camera. “No idea what that means, but it sounds cool.”

“It means you’re two fish.” She laughed as Remus sucked his cheeks in for a fish face. “Very nice.”

“Thank you.”

Sirius was especially careful as he pulled the paper slip off the next question. “What is Remus Lupin first job?”

“The grammar of these questions is killing me. Um, I worked in the university bookstore during college.”

“On the list of ‘things that don’t surprise anyone’,” Dorcas joked.

“Did Remus Lupin go to college?”

Remus gave the camera a look. “First of all, I have a medical degree. Second of all, did people completely forget about the whole ‘about to be drafted right out of college’ thing? It was a grand total of four years ago! Google it!”

“That’s what they did,” Sirius pointed out, gesturing to the board.

“True.”

“Last one for this card: how old is Remus Lupin?”

Remus thought for a moment. “Y’know, I kind of lost track after the first few centuries. My turn…what is Sirius Black real name?”

Sirius glanced at the camera. “It’s Sirius Black? Is this a trick question?”

“There are people out there who think that’s a fake name,” Dorcas said.

“Um, okay. Yeah, my real name is Sirius Black, my brother is Regulus, my dad is Orion, and I have cousins named Andromeda and Bellatrix.”

“What’s your uncle’s name again?” Remus asked.

“Which one? Cygnus? Phineas Nigellus? Arcturus?” At Dorcas’ surprised look, he laughed. “Oh, I could go all day long with this. That’s the tea on old French families with weird-ass naming traditions.”

“This next one is similar: Sirius Black middle name?”

“Orion.”

“Fun fact: the first time I saw your full name, Moody had written it and I thought it said ‘onion’.” Remus laughed as Sirius’ jaw fell open. “Those three seconds were a highlight of my life. Alright, what’s next…what color are Sirius Black’s eyes?”

“Blue.”

Remus shook his head. “They’re gray, almost silver.”

“Basically blue.”

“There’s nothing basic about you, babe.” Remus slid the board onto the floor and passed Sirius a new one. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“Is Remus Lupin Canadian?”

“I wish.”

“Is Remus Lupin left-handed?”

“No, but a lot of people seem to think that I am.”

“Is—” Sirius cut off with a snort. “Is Remus Lupin scrappy?”

“Are you fucking with me?” Remus asked, leaning over. “Is that actually what it says?”

“Yep.”

“Scrappy? Really?” He shook his head, lost for words. “I mean, I guess. Nobody’s ever called me scrappy before.”

“I don’t like this last one. How much is Remus Lupin worth?” Sirius wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his temple. “You’re priceless.”

“I’m worth at least half a PB & J, but only if you use the good peanut butter. If you use the shitty Skippy stuff, hand over the whole sandwich. My turn! Does Sirius Black have piercings?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Does Sirius Black have an Instagram?”

“I do. Sblack12, if you want to see pictures of my friends’ kids and this cutie.”

“Is Sirius Black Australian?”

“Fuck off. I’m French Canadian, how the hell did anyone think I was Australian?”

“Sirius Black birthday.”

“I have one.”

“What is it?” Marlene asked. “I’ll tell you your zodiac sign.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “November 3rd.”

“Scorpio bitch.”

“Hey!”

“On the bright side, Scorpios and Pisces are super compatible.”

“What a relief, I was really banking on our astrology compatibility,” Remus said drily.

Dorcas handed Sirius a fresh board. “First up: can Remus Lupin sing?”

“Eh.”

“The correct answer is yes. What is Remus Lupin like in real life?”

“I’m horrible. I kick every puppy I see and carry one of those sticky hands from arcades to steal candy from children.” A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth and Sirius’ cheeks turned pink from suppressing his laughter. “Like Spiderman, but evil.”

“What happened to Remus Lupin after college?”

“What didn’t happen to Remus Lupin after college?” he laughed, leaning back in his seat. “These past couple years have been bonkers fucking yonkers. I became a PT, got a secret boyfriend, and now I’m engaged and an NHL player. There were, like, three seasons of character development squished into eighteen months.”

“Alright, last one. Why Remus Lupin kissed Sirius Black?”

“Because he’s hot and nice. Also, because he’s my fiancé.”

“Is that the criteria for kisses?” Sirius asked. “I just have to be hot and nice?”

“Pretty much. You’ve got both boxes permanently checked.”

“Final card,” Dorcas warned as she handed it to him. “Make it count.”

Remus cleared his throat. “How does Sirius Black work out?”

“I rollerskate and hula hoop for six hours a day simultaneously.”

“How old is Sirius Black?”

“Ageless.”

“How did Sirius Black meet Remus Lupin?”

“Fun story, actually. You know the movie Ocean’s Eleven?”

“Are Sirius Black and James Potter—”

“Dating.”

“—still friends.”

“Damn, I thought I had that one.” He did a double take. “Still friends? What happened? I saw him an hour ago, tops.”

“You might have to google it,” Remus suggested as he slid the board across the floor. “That’s it!”

“Way to go, guys,” Dorcas laughed. “I know literally nothing new about you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sirius said as the two high-fived. “We were completely honest the whole time.”

She faced the camera with a poorly-hidden smile. “Thanks for joining us today, Lions, and remember to like and subscribe for more content!”

[achliegh]

Mistletoe Madness: Day 3

Olive and Otto’s first Holiday in Gryffindor

Finn, Logan and June’s first Holiday with the twins.

“FINN! OTTO WON’T LET ME PUT GLITTER IN HIS HAIR!” the red-head sighs, Leo told the twins he was going to make treats in the kitchen with their mom and if they interrupted it would take twice as long. Logan and June were wrapping gifts in a random room so that left Finn for the kids to run to. Speaking of the kids, they come running over to him. Olive gripping Otto’s sweater that Sergei knitted for him.

“What's wrong?” He takes Olive's hand off Otto who climbs into his lap for sanctuary.

“Olive was trying to cover me in glitter and I said no.” This is a bit surprising since Otto has a really hard time saying no, but now that he thinks about it… it has become a common word in this child's vocabulary recently.

“Olive, you can’t cover him in glitter, it's too messy.” Olives whines and starts crying. Finn loves these two with all his heart but sometimes he needs a break. So he turns on the TV, the sound of a commercial catches the twins' attention and they share a look before running off. He thinks he got away with something for a second until they come back with a VHS tape.

“Can you play this? It's Daddy’s favorite.” Otto hands it to him and he raises an eyebrow, he doesn’t own a VHS player but he could look up whatever this movie is and airplay it to the TV. He read the movie name on the tape and frowned.

“Barney’s Night Before Christmas… 1999? This came out two years before your dad was even born.” He pulls out his phone and looks it up, sure enough it shows up on YouTube. He sets it up to play and watches the O’s sit crisscross on the ground in front of where the coffee table is normally, but everything was moved around so the tree could fit, to watch this film. This was the most calm he’s seen them in a while.

They watch the film no problem, singing along with the songs and dancing the same way the kids on the screen do. Eventually Leo walks in the room and gasps.

“This is my favorite Christmas movie!” He runs over and sits behind the kids stretching his legs out so one is on either side of them resting his head on top of Otto’s head because he knows his son isn’t going to move.

“Looks like you stole my chef.” Ink walks in, Finn realizes her and Leo were wearing matching aprons, how sweet. She takes a spot on the end of the couch and curls up with her feet under her butt.

“I didn’t realize this movie was so popular, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen it before.” He hears a door close down the hall and the sound of June and Logan laughing traveling down the hall.

“Leo watches it every 24th, something about it just makes him so happy.” They both watch as Leo and the kids sing Joy To The World in sign language just like the girl on the screen. Olive and Otto jump back into Leo’s arms who falls on his back on the ground as he holds his children tightly laughing. “He’s a good dad.”

“Yeah he is, but I’m better.” June comes around the side of the couch, taking her place between Finn and Ink. Snuggling up to her fiance holding her tight. “Alright maybe I’m not but I still try.”

“You do amazing, Sweetheart.” Ink kisses her temple and looks back towards the screen.

“I smell cookies, are they done yet?” Logan leans over the back of the couch flopping his arm around Finn’s neck and kissing a bunch on his head.

“Timer still has a few minutes but you can go check them.” Ink smiles at him, Logan kisses Finn’s head one last time before skipping into the kitchen. Finn thinks about it for a second and decides to follow his little French-Canadian.

“Don’t take them out yet!”

“I’m just poking one!” Logan is reaching into the oven with a plastic spatula completely ruining one of the cookies to see if it's done. “I just realized I have no idea how to tell if a cookie is done…” Finn chuckles, leaning in the doorway watching one of his loves destroy a cookie for Santa. He looks up for a second and notices the mistletoe above him.

“Hey Lo, come here for a sec.” Logan closes the oven, setting the slightly melted spatula on the counter, walks over to his boyfriend and wraps his arms around his midsection. Looking up at him and smiling sweetly. “Look.” Finn points to the decoration signifying a smooch has to be given and wraps his arms around the shorter man swaying them slightly. Their lips meet in a sweet chaste kiss that lasts a good few seconds before someone walks up behind them.

“Do we get one?” Leo is smiling at them with a kid in each arm, holding them around their chests as their feet dangle, smiling exactly the same as their dad.

“Well of course!” Finn leans over to kiss both the kid’s foreheads, Logan doing the same. They both meet at Leo and kiss his cheeks very dramatically and loud making the ragdolls into the taller man's arms giggle. They hear the timer in Ink’s phone go off from the living room and the children perk up.

“COOKIES!”

[lonelyreputation]

Unofficially Official 

A/N: These dialogue prompts were requested quite a few times, so I combined them! Enjoy going to a hockey game with Shawn 🏒🥶

Request: Your hands are so cold & Hey, are you still awake?

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 

Warnings: None! // WC: 2.2K // Fluff

Being Canadian, there were a lot of stereotypes that came with the nationality: Tim Horton’s being God’s blessing to the earth, everyone was always a bit too polite, and you were expected to live and breathe hockey.

While you found most of the stereotypes true, there was one aspect of yourself that your friends always thought made you “un-Canadian.”  And it was that you couldn’t care less about hockey.

You were never vocal about your indifference toward the game.  Most of your friends learned how to skate on the ice at the same time they learned to walk, but not you.  You always went to support your friends at their hockey games, but other than the sound of the puck gliding on the ice, nothing about the game appealed to you.

And whenever you got caught up in a hockey conversation, you would nod along and smile, not understanding what forechecking or icing meant.

The most recent time where hockey was brought up in conversation was when you were at a twenty-four hour diner with your friends, and the boy you just started seeing, Shawn.  It was well known that Shawn was a hockey fanatic, and you had yet to tell him that the game he obsessed over was one you didn’t care much about.

The twenty-four hour diner was a spot you wound up at with your friends every Saturday night during high school.  And with it being all of your last years at University, everyone thought it would be fun to relive the “glory days.”  And while you were all for reliving your so called “glory days,” Shawn was finally home after finishing up tour, and you asked your friends if he could tag along.

And that’s how you found yourself in a booth, pressed between the side wall and Shawn, with his arm lazily hanging around your shoulder.  Your head was rested on his shoulder as you mindlessly paid attention to Shawn and your friends conversing about hockey.

“How do you talk hockey with this one?” One of your friends threw a french fry at you.  You scrunched up your nose and flipped them off, “I hardly consider her Canadian.”

Shawn tilted his head at your friend, “What do you mean?”

“She doesn’t like hockey,” another one of your friend’s piped in and you saw Shawn’s eyes widen as his head turned to face you, “She’s weird, isn’t she?”

“What?” Shawn’s attention was solely on you now, blocking out all of your friends saying how weird it was that you didn’t like the sport.

You raised your head from his shoulder to look him in the eyes as you shrugged, “Never got into it.”

Shawn scrunched up his nose, “So you don’t like hockey?”

You tried your hardest to keep your laughter in as you looked at his genuinely offended face, “Just indifferent.”

“Basically the same thing,” Shawn scoffed as he shook his head, “I’m taking you to a game.”

“Shawn, you don’t––”

“I think the Leafs have a game coming up?” Another one of your friends piped into the conversation.

“I don’t think–––”

Shawn completely ignored you and engaged with your friend who brought up the Leafs game, “Home?”

And while you were still pressed into his side, his thumb drawing soft circles on your shoulder, he was making plans for a hockey game as if you weren’t right next to him.  You let out a huff, took a sip of your milkshake, and leaned your head back down on his shoulder.

///

“Get,” Shawn jumped around you as the two of you walked toward your seats, “Excited!”

You rolled your eyes at his enthusiasm, shivering a bit from how cold the arena felt.  Pathetically, you lifted your index finger up, and did a small twirl with your finger, “Woo.”

“How do you consider yourself Canadian?” Shawn chuckled as he blindly reached for your hand, lacing your fingers together, “Your hands,” he put his other hand on top of your clasped hands, rubbing them together, “are so cold.”

You rolled your eyes at him and bumped your shoulder against his as a silent response.

The smile on your face widened as you looked down at your locked hands, still not used to the fact that you could hold Shawn’s hand whenever you wanted.  It blew your mind that he wanted to hold your hand.  

But you would never complain about that.

The two of you had been friends for about two years, but just within the past three months, your friendship progressed into some sort of relationship.  It started out as a few coffee outings, Shawn stating that he wanted to know you more––Just one on one.  Then coffee turned into getting lunch.  Lunch turned into a few kisses and hand holding.  And then that progressed into dinner dates and keeping an eye out on his Toronto apartment whenever he was out of town.

Nothing was official between the two of you, and while you wanted nothing more than to put a title on your relationship, you didn’t want to come off as clingy.  He was Shawn Mendes after all, and while that didn’t matter much to you…You didn’t know if he wanted to have a girlfriend.

Shawn looked down at the tickets in his free hand to make sure you were at the right section.  When he looked up at the number on the wall and saw that it matched, he pulled you under the archway, and walked down the steps with you until you got to your assigned row.

He let you walk in first, keeping a hand on the small of your back, until you got to your designated seats.  You pulled the plastic seat down, and right when you sat down, Shawn threw an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“I’m so excited for you.”

You laughed and rested your head on his shoulder as the tips of his fingers ran up and down up and down your bicep, “I’m excited to see you in your element.”

Shawn smiled as he ducked his head, placing an innocent kiss on your lips, before returning his eyes to the sight of the ice, “It’s an exciting day for both of us.”

Soon enough, the game started and you tried your best to keep up with everything.  The puck moved too fast, the players skated in circles too much that you couldn’t keep up, and you tried to listen to Shawn as he whispered a play by play in your ear.

Every time the Maple Leafs scored, Shawn jumped up, pulling you up by your hand, and pressed a short kiss to your lips.  You didn’t know much about hockey, but you did know that you wanted the Leafs to score as much as possible if Shawn gave you a kiss every time.

Shawn was sitting on the edge of his seat for the first two quarters as if there were only seconds left in the game.

“You should be on the field based on your enthusiasm,” you poked his cheek and laughed when he turned to look at you, eyes wide with a hint of disgust.

“Field?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Rink,” you corrected yourself, “You should be out on the ice rink.”

Shawn shook his head and poked your cheek in retaliation, “They should just revoke your citizenship now.”

You swatted his finger away, “You’re mean.”

Shawn laughed as he caught your hand in the air, slotting his fingers with yours and resting your clasped hands on his lap, “Me? Mean?” He chuckled, “I’m the nicest boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

You froze in your seat.  You felt your hands start to clam up as your eyes widen on their own accord.

Shawn had just called himself your boyfriend.

Did that make you two official? Did that mean he wanted to keep spending time with you? Did that mean he saw a future with you in it?

With him defining his title, you figured that all of the answers to your questions were yes, he wanted all of those things with you.  And while that made you the happiest person on the planet in that moment, you know that your tense body language probably said the complete opposite to him.

“Everything alright?” Shawn pulled his eyebrows together as he nervously looked over at you, “Do you…not want me to be your boyfriend?”

Your eyes widened even more, voice getting caught in your throat, until everything just came out at once.

“No, no, of course I want you to be my boyfriend––I didn’t know if you––Honestly nothing would make me happier––We’ve been dating, but I didn’t know if you wanted to keep dating me––And I didn't know if you wanted a relationship––”

Shawn let out a nervous laugh as he ran a hand through his curls, “You’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” you weakly chuckled as your eyes briefly drifted to the zamboni that was smoothing over the ice, before you looked back at Shawn’s terrified face, “I was just caught a little off guard.  We never had…The talk.”

This time, Shawn let out a real genuine laugh, “The talk?” He shook his head, “Y/n, I like you.  And I know you like me,” he smirked a little, “What more is there to it?”

When he broke it down in such simple terms, it made sense.  You liked him.  He liked you.  And while it was never explicitly mentioned, you both knew that neither one of you were seeing nor talking to anyone else since you started going out for coffee a few months ago.

You shrugged your shoulders, insecurity filling up your mind because in this moment you felt like such a child.  You didn’t mean to make such a big deal about defining the relationship, but in this day in age, you felt like you needed it to keep yourself sane.

“I didn’t really see the point in us having ‘the talk,’” Shawn shrugged his shoulders, “We like each other, we’ve been dating for a while now, and I just…I’ve considered you my girlfriend for a while now? I call you my girlfriend when I talk to friends and family––And I––I’ve already asked Andrew to look ahead at my touring schedule to see when you can come visit––And I really really like you––”

“You’re rambling,” you smiled at him as you shot his words right back at him.

He rolled his eyes, “My point is,” he squeezed your hand in reassurance, “I would really like it if you were my girlfriend and if I was your boyfriend.”

You didn’t stop the wide smile that came across your face, “That sounds nice.”

Shawn returned your smile and pressed a kiss to your cold cheek that now burned, “Whatever you say, girlfriend.” He winked at you before turning his head forward to look at the ice.

You chose not to respond, instead choosing to lean your head on his shoulder.  You pressed a small kiss at the base of his neck and when you glanced up at him, you saw a wide smile spread across his face.

With the zamboni driving off the ice, you knew the game would restart soon.  

Shawn’s arm stayed around your shoulder for the rest of the game. And you kept your head on his shoulder, soaking up every ounce of warmth from him. While Shawn was enchanted with the movement of the puck, you found yourself paying attention to his even breathing more than the game.

Feeling his gentle breathing was calming, and while everyone in the arena was focused on the game, you felt your eyes start to flutter.  

“Hey,” you took a deep breath and opened your eyes to see Shawn softly caressing your cheek, “are you still awake?”

You were about to answer with barely, but all of a sudden, an airhorn blasted throughout the arena that caused your head to jolt up from his shoulder.  It was the most ear splitting sound you had ever heard.

Your eyes widened in panic, but when you looked over at Shawn, his straight face broke out into laughter.

Shoving his shoulder, you mumbled, “Shut up.”

His eyes were still shut tight as he laughed, and while you were trying to calm down your breathing, you couldn’t help but smile at how the corners of his eyes crinkled.  He said something about the game being almost over, but all you were focused on was being able to lean your head on his shoulder again.

And when his attention finally turned back to the game, you got comfortable and rested your head on his shoulder. As if on instinct, Shawn’s arm curled back around your shoulder as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

With his arm around you, and a wide smile on both of your faces because you two were official now…After being unofficially official for a while. And you started to think that you could start becoming a “real” Canadian and acquire an interest for hockey.

Taglist (add / remove yourself): @adelaidestreets, @alilovesshawn, @alina--jpeg, @fallinallincurls, @lights-on-mendes, @mendesficsxbombay, @particularnarry, @shawnmendez, @shawnsreputation, @turtoix, @vinylmendes, @5-seconds-of-mendes, @pupsandducks @musicalkeys,  @im-salt-but-not-salty @sunkisseddreamer, @crossedties @fortheloveoftheaussies, @illuminatepotter  @par_r  @perfectlywrongsm @lovelysunset1 @samaratheweirdo

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

Business AU - Working Late, Part 4

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Flirt mode  A C T I V A T E D 👏

As everyone else in the room was getting ready to depart for the day - chatting here and there and gathering their belongings - Vee was mostly occupied by her handbag, making sure everything was there before she would leave the place. She did not hear when someone approached her, but she next felt the poke of an object to her right shoulder.

“I didn’t want to make you feel bad earlier,” started Donatello’s voice. “But I truly do think we’re connected somehow now.”

She looked at him, first noticing that he had been poking her with a cardboard file folder, and then she took a good look at his clothes. Purple. AT LEAST not the same shade. He was wearing a fitting v-neck sweater of a dark purple color, with a white shirt  and a black tie underneath, his looks completed with dark charcoal pants and black shoes.

“... You’ve got to be kidding me,” started Vee with a stifled laugh. “Why are we like this?”

“I’m not superstitious, but maybe it’s destiny. We were meant to work together,” he winked. “Great minds think alike!”

Vee couldn’t hide her smile, next prompting him to get on the move for their dinner. She first expected them to walk out of the building and head to a subway station, but she was surprised to see the turtle head towards the indoor parking lot of the building.

“Wait, you want us to go by car?” she asked, her heels clacking rapidly on the tiled floor as she caught up to him.

“Why not? It’ll be quieter that way! I don’t feel like dealing with crowds in the subway anyway.”

She had to give him that, at least. A car would smell better than a subway train... As they made their way through the lot, she noticed Donnie getting out keys, the woman commenting:

“Huh, I thought you’d have a chauffeur or something like that.”

“Why, because I’m rich?” asked the mutant, amused. “I like driving, so I don’t see why I would leave all that fun to someone else.”

He pressed a button on a small remote attached to a key, which prompted a black SUV nearby to flash its light.

Vee was most certainly impressed by his taste, first observing the vehicle until she noticed the other opening the passenger door for her.

“The lady may take her seat.”

As she took place, her eyes scanned the interior.

The major difference she could notice from any other cars was how the driver seat was rearranged a bit further back, allowing space for the mutant’s shell most probably. As Donnie took place next, Vee couldn’t help her question:

“Is this car completely custom made?”

The other smirked: “If it was, it’d be way cooler. ... Nah for this I only had a Genesis GV80 model slightly modified to accomodate my form. I like the look of it and I don’t need something too extravagant to go around on the streets.”

“ ‘Don’t need something too extravagant’,” quoted the woman. “You do realize that you have an expensive car?”

“Remind me to show you my brother Mikey’s cars,” added Donnie, then starting the car’s ignition. “Then we can talk back about what’s expensive.”

As soon as the vehicle was brought to life, music was heard, being none other than Dio’s “Better In The Dark” track. The turtle rapidly fumbled to turn it down, his eyes widening.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for that,” he said once silence was back.

“... Are you kidding? You shouldn’t apologize for listening to Dio!” reassured Vee. “That guy frickin’ rocks!”

The terrapin smirked: “Ah, a woman of good taste! You keep on getting better and better.”

Vee couldn’t help her smile in return, the pair then finally getting on the move.

***

Donnie had to park his SUV on a quiet street, the duo next walking towards their destination; New York’s Little Italy. The evening was already laying its shadows in the sky, but the streets were bright and colorful, the warmth in the air of the incoming summer days an absolute delight. A light conversation was held as they were walking, until Vee was abruptly stopped by almost falling due to one of her heels stumbling into a small crack in the sidewalk. She was first surprised by how fast Donnie had been to catching her, a small laugh escaping her. To feel his touch around her, his strength, all she could hear was her heart drumming in her ears. They continued their path, Vee’s arm hooked to Donatello’s. It simply felt like a dream at that point...

They finally arrived to the place; a small rustic looking restaurant that had been hiding from the bigger crowd’s broad sight. There were few patrons inside, the ambiance calm and somehow giving a “feels like home” kind of vibe. Donnie seemed to know the place well, only quickly waving to the staff and already going for a table. It was a nice little corner with a table large enough so they could lay down their paperwork. Being a complete gentleman, the mutant was quick to draw a chair for Vee to sit on, waiting until she was seated properly before settling down across the table. A waiter was already at their disposition, Donnie already asking for a bottle of white wine, interjecting some Italian words in the bunch and ending with a “grazie mille”, to Vee’s surprise.

“You speak Italian?” she asked as the waiter was walking away.

“Non molti, ma un po' sì (Not a lot, but a little bit yes),” he answered. “Still learning, but I’m getting there.”

“Do you know any other languages?”

“I’ve tried to start learning Japanese alongside my brother Leonardo, but I’m not as proficient as him so far. I’ve also started French.”

Vee couldn’t help herself: “Donc, si je parle dans ma langue maternelle, tu devrais comprendre? (So, if I speak in my native tongue, you should understand?)”

Donnie froze for a moment, soon ruminating the words and showing a smile.

“Un peu (a bit),” he said. “But I feel like I need to practice a little more.” He did not skip a beat when adding: “I don’t know why, but I think a French Canadian’s accent sounds way more interesting than metropolitan French. There’s a certain flair to it, I can’t really explain...”

Vee was most certainly amused: “Try going into any rural parts of Québec, then you’ll feel like you’re speaking to aliens or something. Our French is unique, sometimes butchered, but it is nice indeed.” She did a small shrug. “I could help you practice, if you want.”

Their wine arrived, their glasses filled and the bottle left at their table. Donnie took his glass, pensively rolling the drink in his hand.

“You keep on giving, miss Vee, and I’ll soon feel cheap. First you’re helping me for the Lowline, now you’re proposing to help me with my French. ... My oh my, mademoiselle, I’ll have a debt to repay once again.”

“Let’s start by actually getting something for dinner,” added the woman, lifting the menu to her face in order to hide her blush. “It’ll give me time to think about if I need your help with something. What’s good in here?”

It was so hard to act casual...

“Their pastas are the best, but I’ll have to say that their tiramisu is to die for - I’m definitely grabbing one of those at the end.”

As the evening went along, Vee was finally starting to feel more at ease. The food was delicious, the wine delectable, and the company absolutely charming. They took some time to review the folder Donnie had brought along, talking about the project’s restrictions and demands. It was simple enough thus far, some ideas already boiling in the woman’s mind. Maybe the wine was kicking in, but she didn’t even flinch when her hand brushed the turtle’s over some papers. Her body language was screaming interest, lightly hunched over the table, actively listening to him and her smile tender. She couldn’t quite explain this attraction she felt. All she knew was that Donnie had this aura surrounding him; a welcoming and calm presence that made her feel safe and relaxed. His humor was subtle and his additions to a conversation well-placed. He was a man of many words and of a vast knowledge, although gladly giving the spotlight to any soul speaking, always listening with great interest. Vee could only admit that she wanted to learn more about him.

***

The dinner over, the pair headed back to the SUV, Donnie at least insisting that he could drop Vee to her place. How could she say no to a sweet smile such as his, anyway? The address handed, the ride went on smoothly in a comfortable silence, the woman glancing at the many lights outside - not even noticing that the terrapin would sometimes glance her way and feel this lovesick knot in his chest...

As he parked nearby her apartment building, he did not hesitate to get out as well, at least considering it good etiquette to escort her to the entrance.

“I hope I didn’t make it harder for you by cramming all that information in your face?” he said as they were talking, arms hooked again.

Vee shook her head, amused: “Absolutely not. It has given me ideas, in fact.”

“Good, good.”

As they stopped by the main door, they paused, their hooked arms transitioning into a longing, yet subtle touch of their hands. Vee finally moved her hand away, her blush faint as she removed a small strand of hair from her face.

“... This was nice, thank you,” she said. “Not the habitual work meetup I’m used to, but this was good for a change.”

Donnie quickly cleared his throat, retrieving his thoughts.

“Of course! It was quite pleasant, indeed. ... It’s not often that I get such enjoyable company.”

“You’re sweet, thank you.”

There it was, that silence as they both crossed gaze. That moment of unspeakable words and uncertain actions... The mutant sweetly smiled, breaking that moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work. ... Goodnight, Vee.”

“Goodnight, Donnie.” She felt like she could breathe again...

Yet, as she saw the other walk away, she added:

“Donnie!”

He turned back.

“I think I know how you can repay me for the French lessons,” she continued. “... How about another evening together? Not work related this time.”

Joy lightened up the turtle’s features, definitely agreeing: “Absolutely!”

And just like that, the night felt even better.

((Part 5))

[gaemkyuu]

The Meeting

Warnings: implied intercourse, but not described A/N: First story that I am posting! I have four more parts, so if you like it, leave me a comment and I will post the others :) Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece on Charlie Gillespie. In no way do I claim or declare that Charlie’s portrayal is accurate to real life. I do however, own Teagan Valencia :)

Masterlist

The Teagan Valencia Series: The Meeting  / The Fight / The Proposal / The Present / The Recovery / The Future 

The Meeting

“Quiet on set...! And...Action!”

Teagan watched in silent adoration as Charlie delivered his lines. She didn’t always have the opportunity to sneak away from work to watch him work, but today was an exception. The second season was well underway in the filming process and their popularity was increasing. Kenny noticed Teagan out of the corner of his eye and motioned her over so that she could watch the scene from the monitor. She was amazed at how Charlie looked playing Luke. She had met him three years ago when he was filming Season 1, but yet the boy on camera looked exactly like he did that same day three years ago.

***

Teagan had been visiting Vancouver that weekend to visit family and help her sister get settled. Her little sister had been accepted into the University of British Columbia in the Business program studying Accounting and Finance. She was the pride and joy of filipino immigrant parents as she was attending an esteemed university and getting a degree. All the while their oldest, Teagan, had opted for a non traditional method of getting into the marketing industry by working for a popular canadian clothing brand. Her sister was going to be a university graduate while Teagan worked her way up the ladder in a retail store. Teagan always knew that going to school wasn’t where her path was taking her, but she always knew that hard work, determination and experience were valuable assets in the job market. Something her parents would never understand.

“Charlie watch out!”

They were walking around Gastown in their cute summer dresses killing time before their dinner reservation, when Teagan was knocked over by another person. As she got her bearings, she felt cold liquid on her chest and the weight of another body. The other person quickly scrambled to their feet and profusely apologized, helping her stand as her cousins stood there in shock. She heard a couple more footsteps rush over to where she were standing, dusting off her butt and looking her tackler in the face. In an instant, Teagan had forgotten what had happened as she got lost in the deep green pools of the man in front of her. It wasn’t the eye colour that stole her focus, but rather the intensity of emotions that he conveyed through them. Teagan could see and feel the embarrassment, regret and sincerity of the man.

“Teags?”

Her cousin’s voice broke her trance and she blushed when she realized she had been staring. She noticed that two other people stood behind him, in which she assumed was her friend. One was fairly tall and blonde and the female with long auburn hair and a beanie. Teagan forced herself to focus on what the man was saying rather than the beautiful eyes in front of her.

“I am so so so sorry. I completely didn’t see you and didn’t mean to ruin your dress or tackle you to the floor” Teagan looked down at her once cute summer dress covered in iced coffee from Starbucks. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?” Teagan stood there speechless.

“Uh-uhm- D-Don’t worry about it! It’s totally fine” Teagan felt slightly flustered and out of breath, her blush deepening as she heard her cousin scoff on the side. “I can quickly just go and buy something else to wear”

“Please let us pay for it! We feel horrible!” the man’s female friend offered coming closer to Teagan motioning the other two males as well.

“Seriously, it’s fine! I’m totally fine! Don’t worry about it!” Teagan couldn’t quite understand why she felt embarrassed when they were the ones who were at fault. “What happened anyway?”

“Our friend thought it would be funny to run away with my iced coffee and wasn’t looking where he was running. It’s my fault too because I was chasing after him” the blonde one shyly confessed, rubbing his neck apologetically. “I hope we didn’t ruin your night”

“We were just killing time waiting for our reservation. It isn’t for another half an hour, so we have ample time to grab Teagan a new dress” Teagan silently thanked her cousin as her brain was malfunctioning at the handsome man in front of her. 

“We seriously feel so bad, can we please make it up to you somehow?” the female tried to offer some sort of compensation again.

“It’s totally fine, no hard feelings. It wasn’t like it was on purpose right?” Teagan’s brain started to slowly function as she declined the offer of the female.

“Seriously, we need to make this up to you two. I won’t take no for an answer and if you do say no, I’ll just follow you around until you say yes” The handsome man took a step closer to Teagan, causing her breath to catch and swallow deeply.

“Uhm, okay! I mean, if you won’t take No, I’d much rather just make new friends instead of gaining a stalker!” Teagan could feel her words tumble clumsily out of her mouth. Thus began the start of a new friendship. Teagan, her cousin and their new friends ventured to the nearest H&M to find something else for her to wear. Turns out that the other female, Savannah, had excellent taste in clothing. They all came to learn that they were all in the same age range, with Tegan being born in 1997 and Owen, the blonde being born in 2000. Teagan also came to learn that her handsome tackler’s name was Charlie and that all three of them were actors for a new Netflix project that was scheduled to air in the New Year. The three ladies got along incredibly and their shopping trip turned into all five of them going to dinner. They had lucked out when a table of 5 before them no-showed the restaurant. They spent the evening getting to know one another and a deep friendship was easily formed. Throughout the night, Charlie and Teagan connected on several levels and at times forgot there were three other people at the table. Occasionally the two would banter or tease each other, even though they had met that day. As their dinner came to an end and bills were paid by none other than Charlie, the girls exchanged contact information, planning to hangout on their next day off. But before Teagan could walk away for the night, Charlie slipped a piece of paper in Teagan’s hand apologizing one more time for running into her.

‘Coffee? This time I won’t spill it on you’ was messily written on the one side, with his phone number on the other. Teagan’s cousin didn’t notice the smile that lit up her face, but she quickly snapped a picture of it and tucked it in her purse for safe keeping.

That coffee date with Charlie ended up becoming a regular occurrence, though the only one who would be drinking coffee would be Teagan as Charlie always settled for tea or whatever dessert or smoothie he wanted to explore that day. She appreciated his adventurous side as she was creature of habit at times. She learned a lot about the industry and the many quirks of Charlie Gillespie.  Soon, coffee dates turned into dinner dates and dinner dates turned into weekend cuddles and relaxation, but filming would eventually wrap and the holidays approached, leaving Teagan and Charlie to make a definitive decision in their relationship. Teagan didn’t expect to extend her Vancouver visit from a week to about a month and a half. Reality was coming fast ans soon Charlie would be back to LA and Teagan working in Edmonton.

“Charlie, what are we?” she asked him as both sat on the couch of his apartment. Mama Mia played softly in the background on the TV as she turned to face him.

“Well what do you want to be?” he cheekily asked her, flashing one of his killer smiles.

“Je suis sérieuse. Tu retournes à LA toute suite et moi à Edmonton. C’est quoi ça?" Charlie knew that when Teagan spoke to her in french she was serious. It was one of the things he learned early on about Teagan. He was pleased to know that she was fluent in french, having taken an IB course in high school, but they often bantered about their accents. She understood how french was a huge part of who he was and she didn’t speak to him in french unless it was important. She knew it got his attention right away since he was so used to being around people who only spoke english.

He paused the TV, complete silence filling the room, both of them facing one another. Charlie was off to Vietnam for the holidays and Teagan planned to spend hers with her family in Edmonton, seeing as she had made an impromptu extension to her trip in Vancouver. He knew that the next time they would be seeing one another they would be crossing borders to visit one another and to be honest the distance felt a bit overwhelming. But Charlie couldn’t shake the fact that there was something about Teagan that he didn’t want to let go. 

“What’s going to happen when we both go back to living the way we were before one another?” Charlie chuckled softly to himself, knowing his decision. Teagan cocked an eyebrow at his response.

“Well nothing’s going to go back to the way it was before Teags” she loved hearing Charlie use her nickname. He said it in a way that sounded so comforting to her ears. “You’re mine right?”

“Define: mine” Teagan smiled coyly at Charlie, already understanding what he meant. “I need help understanding you. I don’t speak Charlie Gillespie Language” Charlie rolled his eyes and got down in front of Teagan, settling in between her legs.

“Teagan Jillian Valencia, will you be my girlfriend?” He jutted his lips forward ever so slightly to create the perfect pouty lips and then he comboed them with his best puppy eyes. Teagan shook her head at the dramatics of the man in front of her and kissed him on the lips, pulling him up and forward. “So, that’s a yes?”

She nodded and kissed him again, this time a little more aggressively. Charlie took the hint and started getting all handsy, but Teagan broke their kiss. “As much as I would love to do this right now, Owen comes home in 30 minutes and I would much rather him not walking in on us, again”

“Well let’s make this quick and move to the bedroom!”

[wearebarca]

5. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed too long at the same place. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

Word count: 4,6k

18+ (eventually)

A/N: Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Tell me what you think, be nice, enjoy.

The return to Barcelona wasn’t as smooth as their arrival trip. Rosalie had ended up with a seat next to Lucy, which was good because Lucy knew how to handle the younger brunette on a plane, but she couldn’t shake the slight disappointment she felt when she realized that she wouldn’t be sitting with the captain. Nonetheless she was still happy with her flight partner since she hadn’t seen much of the English woman during this trip.

Lucy had shown up at six at the photographer’s door, in full training gear and running shoes in her hand, and had forced the brunette to go out on a run with her to relax a little before the flight. They had ended up in a park with a track that circled a nice football pitch, and Lucy decided that it would be a great idea to challenge the runner on a race. Rosalie might be an experienced runner, but explosive speed was the older woman’s strength and an hour later, they were both lying on the field, panting like dogs, with Lucy undefeated. Running back was a completely different story for the defender who had used most of her energy on beating the younger woman in sprints. She was glad when she could see the hotel in front of us but groaned when the photographer lightly shoved her and yelled “ Race you there!”

At breakfast, Rosalie sat with her usual group, sandwiched between Keira and Ingrid, who made sure the brunette was occupied with conversation the whole time. Their goal was clear to the photographer who knew that they wanted her to focus on anything other than the plane trip ahead. Unbeknown to the pair, the task of keeping her distracted was already being fulfilled by the blonde sitting a few seats away from her.

Rosalie’s perception of the blonde had changed since their dinner the night before. Being able to spend some time with the captain without the pressure of work or football allowed Rosalie to see another side of the blonde that she hadn’t encountered before. Now, Alexia intrigued even more the photographer who wondered just how many sides the footballer keeps hidden.

Her daydreaming was interrupted by Keira who had been trying to get the French-Canadian's attention for the past minute. “ Hey, Frenchy are you still here with us?”

“ Oui, yes I’m sorry I was caught up in my own thoughts.” The brunette said, turning towards her friends.

“ It’s ok really, we just wanted to know if you were coming to team building night with us?” Ingrid said.

“ Isn’t that for players only?” the brunette said confused. Back with Arsenal, she never got invited to this sort of night, even if she was, or she thought, one of the player’s girlfriends.

“ Not necessarily no. It is just a normal night with friends and we’d like for you to come.” Keira said, smiling at the photographer.

“ I’d love to.” Rosalie said, turning towards Ingrid. “ When would that be?”

“ We were thinking about two weeks from now, after the game against Levante. I’m just trying to see how many we’re gonna be so I can make a reservation at the restaurant.” The Norwegian said, picking up her phone to look at options. The rest of the breakfast was spent organizing the supper, allowing the photographer to forget about their approaching departure. Unfortunately, her feeling of dread and anxiety came rushing back as soon as she picked up her luggage from the bus and walked towards the terminal. The flight went relatively well for the brunette, who stayed wide awake this time, leaning against Lucy while a bad comedy was playing on the small screen in front of them.

Alexia, who was a few seats behind the duo, could not help but wonder how the smaller woman was fairing and finally succumbed to her urge to make sure the photographer was alright by getting up and quickly trying to find something to say to justify her presence next to them. As she arrived at their seat, a small smile crept on her face at the sight of the brunette bundled up in her oversized hoodie, with her hood engulfing her head almost entirely. She crouched down next to her and took her hand in her own to give it a light squeeze. Without letting the photographer’s hand go, she turned her attention to the defender. “ Could you remind me again of yours and Keira’s departure dates for international break?” She asked the English woman who seemed surprised by the question.

“ Yeah sure mate,” she said, pulling out her phone to check her emails. “ Why do you need to know so soon? Isn’t it in almost two months?” she asked

“ Uhh, I’m just planning ahead.” She said, hoping that the older woman would not see through the real reason for her presence here. Meanwhile, the photographer had significantly relaxed since the captain had arrived next to her, and was putting all her focus on the way the blonde’s thumb was tracing soothing patterns on the back of her hand.

Too soon for the brunette’s liking, Lucy found the email with the dates she was looking for and gave them to Alexia, who had no more reason to stay with them. She gave one last squeeze to the photographer’s hand and walked back to her seat. Lucy, who was far from dumb, had a good idea of exactly why her captain had come to their row, and it surely wasn’t to know their departure’s dates. She sent a look to the younger woman, who simply answered with one that clearly said, : “Not now Luce.”

It was the middle of the afternoon when the brunette finally stepped in the comfort of her small apartment. She refused to let it show too much during their trip, but she was truly exhausted from the strain two plane rides in such a short amount of time had had on her, and as soon as her body hit the bed, she was gone and did not wake up until the morning after. The rest of her weekend was spent mostly working on the editing of the shots she had taken during their day off and training. She decided to go check out the Olympic pool near her place and swim a few laps to allow her body to recover from the week's intense running sessions.

For the players, the week after a match was always slower than their usual training, but for the rest of the staff, it was when their schedules would be the most hectic. Rosalie started her week by following a few players on a media appearance for a foundation that helps little girls persevere in sports, then it was media day which took by storm the whole training complex. Various interviews and fun videos were being filmed all over the facility and Rosalie’s job was to roam from station to station and capture the girls during their appearances. On top of that, the brunette had her usual training content to shoot and edit.

This week’s workload meant that coffee with her favourite couple wasn’t possible, which saddened them even though they understood why. Rosalie also postponed her night with the English couple who were very eager to bombard the Canadian with all the questions they had so nicely kept to themselves during the trip. It was a relief for the brunette, who knew that sooner or later, she would have to go through her best friend’s interrogation.

Weekend couldn't come soon enough for Rosalie. Friday would be a bittersweet day for the photographer who had to finish and send the media day content tonight at the latest for their release the next day, which most likely meant a late night at the office again. Her hunch turned out to be right as she checked the clock around four and realized that she wasn’t nearly done. The girls had already left and the training facility was dead silent when the photographer left her office. Rosalie almost jumped at the sound of her ringtone echoing in the empty car park. The name that lit up her screen made the brunette’s eyes roll as she picked up the call.

“ Non.”

“ Oui.”

“ Non, je viens de finir de travailler, Je suis complètement brûlée, pas ce soir.” Rosalie said in a whiny tone as she all but threw her bags in the backseat of her small sedan.

“Too late, we're already at your place darling.” Lucy said laughing. Rosalie could hear Keira whine in the background for her to come quickly because she was tired of waiting to eat. “ We brought your favourite, now get your arse here, we’ve got questions that need answering.” The defender didn’t even wait for the younger girl’s answer and hung up.

“Mais quel enfoiré.” Rosalie took all the detours humanly possible, just to annoy the older woman. At the sight of Lucy waiting by the stairs of her apartment, Rosalie felt like a child getting scolded by her mum. She took a deep breath and climbed the few stairs that were left between her and her apartment.

“ Took you long enough.”

“ Traffic, ya know”

“ Fuck off you cunt you did this just to fuck with us.” Lucy said as she followed the Canadian back in her flat.

“ Woah woah votre langage madame Bronze.”

“ You’re lucky we like you Frenchy.” She pulled out the bags of fish and chips she had brought while Rosalie pulled out beers for everyone. She eagerly took the plate that was handed to her and made a face at the first bite.

“ I know, it’s not like back home.” Keira said, stealing a few chips from Rosalie’s plate.

“ It doesn’t taste bad, it just does not deserve the title of fish and chips.” Rosalie said, bringing her plate and beer to the couch. The two women followed her, Keira beside her on the couch and Lucy on the ground, on the other side of the coffee table.

“ Ok I’m done waiting so now, what the hell is going on with you and Alexia.”Rosalie almost choked on her fish at the younger English woman’s question.

“ There’s nothing going on”

“ What do you mean? There’s nothing going on. She keeps staring at you!” Keira said in an animated tone.

“Rosalie, you fell asleep on her shoulder, in the goddamn plane.” Lucy added. The brunette was cornered, she could not lie to these girls, they were her family, they knew her too well.

“ She’s just.. she’s easy company you know. We get along nice.” She said, hoping that would be enough for them, but she knew it definitely would not be.

“ We all saw how you were looking at her on the last morning of the trip. You haven’t looked at anyone like that before, not even…”

“Don’t,” Rosalie quickly interrupted. She didn’t want to compare Alexia, even in the slightest bit, to the Irish defender. “ She’s just very intriguing, you know. I haven’t quite met anyone like her before.”

“ She’s a pure soul, that one,” Lucy said, staring at her best friend who was currently looking everywhere but at the two friends. “ She’s shy and closed off but once she opens up, she is truly one of the most authentic girls I’ve met.” She said with a fond smile playing on her lips.

“ Why are you guys telling me all this?” Rosalie asked. Sure, she understood that these women were her family and they simply wanted to know what was going on but this felt like more than the usual interrogation she would be subjected to. It almost felt like they were encouraging the photographer to pursue whatever was going on between the brunette and the blonde.

“ No reason in particular, we just want you to be happy.” Keira said, trapping the brunette in a hug.

“Ok you can let me go now, you’re crushing me” they stayed silent for a moment, contempt in eating their food and unwinding after their week, until Keira decided to break the silence.

“ She talks about you, you know? With Mapi and some of the Spanish players. They think I’m not good enough in Spanish to understand when they speak fast, but I’m better now, and I can understand some stuff.” Keira said, happily stealing more chips from the photographer’s plate, who was too stunt by the woman’s statement to react. Lucy on the other hand, could not hold back the laugh that came out when she saw the look on the younger woman’s face. A deep blush formed on her cheek as she got off the couch and walked to the kitchen to put away her plate.

“I’m sure it was probably something about the shoot or the most recent post.” Rosalie said, trying to occupy herself until her face would turn back to its original colour.

“ No, no I heard your name, than “guapa” was somewhere in there and then they all agreed.”

“ Kei seriously, that could be about anything.”

“ I’m telling you, they were talking about you.” Keira said with a wide teasing grin on her face. They went back and forth like that for a few minutes while Lucy was laughing at the interaction. The couple ended up staying over until past midnight before finally deciding to make their way home.

“ By the way, you’re coming to the beach tomorrow, I’ll send you the time and address!” Lucy said as she stepped out of the brunette’s apartment and closed the door behind her, not leaving time for her to give an actual answer.

The next day she woke up with a text from Lucy only containing a time and an address for a beach not too far from the city. Rosalie had no idea what to bring for this occasion so she assumed that since they were meeting up around lunch time, she should probably pack some food, a quick call to Keira confirmed her suspicion and allowed her to also add beer to the list of things to bring. She put on her favourite bikini with a pair of linen shorts and a swimsuit cover, grabbed her camera bag and her backpack and hopped in her car.

The Canadian had never gone through this part of the city and decided to go explore it on her next run. Her GPS led her to a small parking area in front of a path in the woods. She parked between Lucy’s Cupra and another car that looked similar to Lucy’s but wasn’t familiar to the brunette. On the other side of the car park, she spotted Mapi and Ingrid’s car as well as other nice vehicles that probably belonged to Barça players. When she arrived on the beach, Rosalie realized that this was more than just a hangout between a few friends. Lucy and Keira were here, along with Mapi and Ingrid, Patri, Pina, Vicky, Jana, Aitana, mariona and finally, Alexia.

Barking was heard along with the sound of rapid little steps coming her way. She was greeted with a small white dog she knew very well, along with a small pomeranian. Narla jumped around at Rosalie’s feet, too excited for the Canadian to pet her, but the small pomeranian kept scratching at her leg. The photographer bent down and picked up the small fluffy dog, who immediately licked her face.

A chorus of “Hola”’s and happy cheers was heard as the French-Canadian made her way towards the group, with the small dog still in her arms. “ Finally! We were starting to think you got lost on your way.” Mapi said, hugging her friend tightly and taking the bags in the brunette’s hands so she could greet the rest of the girls.

“ Blame Lucy, she told me to be here at twelve.”

“ I see you met Nala.” Ingrid said, approaching the photographer, hugging her gently to not crush the ball of fur who was getting comfortable in the brunette’s arms.

“ Oui, she’s a little angel,” She said, kissing the top of the dog’s head, “ Who’s the lucky owner? Gotta know who I need to fight in order to bring her home.” She said laughing.

“She’s Alexia’s.” Mapi said, with a cheeky smile, “ She usually takes a while to warm up to people.” Rosalie could feel the blush that was creeping up her cheeks.

“ Good to know…”

“ Ok, can we eat now? I’m starving.” Mapi said as she turned around, to make her way towards the coolers. Ingrid smiled at her girlfriend’s antics and beckoned the French-Canadian to follow her towards the rest of the group. She helped Ingrid and Aitana set up the little potluck while the rest of the girls were setting up some beach chairs and towels around. The sun was high in the sky and not a single cloud could be seen, the heat was quickly getting to the Canadian who decided that the swimsuit cover was not helping cooling her off. She got up and took off the shirt, her actions not missed by a certain blonde, who was in the middle of a game of touch. The action made Alexia completely miss, which made the little group snicker at their captain.

“Capitán, debería limpiarse la baba de las comisuras de la boca.!” Patri said, laughing at her captain 's flustered face.

“ Oy, callate idiota!” To be fair, Alexia was not the only one staring. The photographer had put on a dark green bikini that complemented perfectly her tanned skin and showed off her athletic figure.

“ Ella es muy caliente.” The comment came from Pina, who received a sharp slap to the back of her head.

“Behave”

“ Si Capitana.”

The food was finally set up and the group was called back by the rest of the girls to come eat. Rosalie mainly stayed with Ingrid and Aitana since she still wasn’t used to being with this many new people at once. She quickly found out that there was absolutely no reason to be shy around the girls. The atmosphere was very playful and the air was filled with laughter and bickering in broken English since they all knew that Rosalie and Keira weren’t completely comfortable in Spanish.

“ Rosie! If you want to make your Spanish better, I know someone who’s a very good teacher.” Patri said with a shit eating grin.

“ Si, si very patient, very good teacher. She would love to teach you, right Capitana?” Pina added, trying to hold back her laugh. The look the captain sent the girls would have scared anyone in their right mind, but the younger players were too busy laughing to notice their captain’s wrath coming their way. A sharp cry and a whine was heard when the football connected with the side of Pina’s head.

“Cállate, te lo merecías.” Alexia said as she pushed the younger girl towards the area they had been playing previously.

“ I don’t know if they were serious or not, but I kinda really do need help with Spanish. The online courses I’ve been taking are little to no help with understanding native speakers.” The brunette said as she set up her towel between Ingrid and another towel.

“I’m sure she would love to help.” Ingrid said with a knowing smile. The light sound of little paws hitting the sand caught the attention of the photographer who turned her head to see Nala strut her way. The little dog came over to the photographer to get a few pets then made a beeline to the towel next to her to pick up a little chew toy. Nalla then turned to make her way back to Rosalie to lay right in the middle of her towel. Rosalie laughed at the little dog’s antics while Ingrid smiled and turned to her friend.

“Now that your spot has been taken, you should go show these children how it’s done.” She said, motioning to the little group playing a game of touch. Mapi’s head shot up at her girlfriend’s words.

“ Yes, yes, let’s go, I want to see what you are capable of.” Rosalie let Mapi drag her up and to the group. She stood between Patri and Mapi and after a few passes, she was just as excited and hyped as the rest of the girls. They played for a while, working up a sweat with the sand sticking to their skin. Even though the brunette was focused on the game, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the blonde captain. She looked gorgeous in her light blue bikini, tanned skin glowing in the sunlight. She looked so carefree and genuinely happy. Their eyes met and both the women smiled wildly, until a particularly daring kick sent the ball straight to the ocean.

“ Rosie! You are a runner, si?” Patri said, lightly shoving the brunette to get her attention. “ The first to get to the ball gets to dunk the other one in the ocean!” She yelled, already taking off full speed towards the waves.

“ Hey! Non, that’s not fair!” She said laughing as she took off behind the midfielder who had too great of a head start for the Canadian to be able to catch up to her.

As soon as she reached the ball, she felt hands grab her by the waist and hoist her up only to launch her straight in the water. The photographer let out a loud shriek as she hit the cold refreshing waters. She could hear behind her the cheers of the rest of the girls who had made their way to Patri.

Rosalie walked out of the water, slicking her hair back with a sinister smile as she approached Patri, who was still caught in an uncontrollable laughter. She jumped on the player’s back and dragged her down in the water with her. Alexia saw this as an opportunity to get back at Pina for the teasing and grabbed the younger player, hoisting her on her shoulders and walking off in the water to dump her near the two other women who were busy splashing each other.

They all stay in the water for a while, teaming up against one another in a slashing battle. Patri and Rosalie against Claudia and Alexia. The footballers weren’t playing around and Rosalie quickly realized that she was in over her head. For the second time today, a pair of hands landed on her hips but this time, the touch sent shivers down the brunette’s back. She went still which allowed Alexia to swiftly pick her up as she carried the photographer away from the two other Spanish women, too busy bickering and slashing each other to notice the absence of their friends.

The midfielder set Rosalie down, but her hands on her hips stayed until she decided the woman was stable enough on her feet. “ I am sorry, I thought that you looked a little overwhelmed out there," she said, smiling at the smaller woman.

“They do play a little too rough for me.” she said, following Alexia as she started walking deeper in the sea. She was silent, only looking at the water stretching endlessly in front of her. Rosalie could see that something was bothering the blonde. Her beautiful smile had faded and her eyes held a worried look. “I can sense something is not right.” She said softly to the blonde who turned to look at the photographer.

“ It’s just that, the euros are getting nearer, national camp is in a few weeks and the girls are a little on edge with everything that has been going on lately.” The photographer was aware of the tensions in the national football scene in Spain. She knew that the players were fighting for better conditions and better treatment from the coaches, and she knew that this fight had cost some of the girls their chance to represent their country in some of the most important sports events. It was hard for the girls who had to stay behind . It was also hard for the ones who had decided to stay with the team but were enduring the poor treatment from the staff and management. Seeing these girls today, so happy and carefree, she could not fathom just how much pressure was resting on their shoulders.

“ Days like these are important, you know,” The photographer said, getting closer to the captain. “ They help unwind, allow you to forget about everything you know?”

“ I’m not very good at relaxing.” The blonde said, chuckling.

“ What do you like to do on your days off?”

“ I don’t know, I don’t get a lot of those.”

“ Ok, so what would a perfect day off be for La Reina?” The photographer said with a cheeky smile. Alexia gave the photographer a big eye roll before answering.

“ Probably going to get coffee, walk around the market. Maybe buy supplies to cook a nice supper and relax with a movie. Something simple I guess.” Alexia said with a distant look in her eyes. In this moment, Rosalie wished she could take all the pressure on the blonde’s shoulders and carry it for her for a little while, just so she could catch her breath. Unable to do such a thing, the brunette thought of the next best thing.

“ Tomorrow there’s no training right?”

“ Si, no training.”

“ And you don’t have anything planned?”

“ I was gonna train alone and work on some side projects, why?”

“ No you are not, because tomorrow, you are bringing me to your favourite coffee shop and to that market you talked about. Then you are coming back to my place and I’d like you to show me how to make Paella. I've always wanted to try making it but my cooking skills are horrendous.” Rosaie said in a tone that left no space for arguing. Alexia smiled at the smaller woman, she was surprised by the French-Canadian’s proposition but could not be happier with the turn this conversation took. She took the brunette’s hand and brought it to her lips. The action made Rosalie freeze on the spot as she felt the blonde’s lips graze the back of her hand, which sent a shock wave that traveled her whole body and made her breath hitch.

“ It is a date then.” Alexia said, letting the brunette’s hand go and walking back to the beach with a wide smile plastered on her face. Rosalie on the other hand, was still frozen at the same spot, trying to gather exactly what had happened between them. A deep blush had crept on her face and the woman felt hot all over. She lowered herself in the water, dunking her head to try and cool herself off, or wake up for this dream, but she emerged at the same spot, with the silhouette of the footballer walking in front of her, almost reaching the rest of the group, who was now sunbathing.

Walking back to her towel, she could see that Nala had moved to the top of Alexia's towel, near the blonde’s head. She was laying on her stomach, which allowed the photographer a clear view of the multitude of tattoos on the captain’s back. The photographer got comfortable on her back and shoved one airpod in her ear, leaving the other one free to hear the crash of the waves on the sand. She felt something fluffy brush against her hand and opened her eyes to see Nala had changed spots again, deciding to lay between the two women, making sure she was touching Alexia and Rosalie’s hand at once. With the soft music playing in her ear, the sound of the ocean and Alexia’s calming presence, Rosalies quickly surrendered to the week’s exhaustion and let herself drift to sleep.

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Breakable Heaven (pt. I) - p.l. dubois

As promised, here’s the first part of Breakable Heaven! I’m really excited for this one, there’s so many things I can’t wait for you all to read. This chapter is more setup and background, but I promise it’s all worth it! I’d love it if you reblogged (helps me know people like my work!) or pop into my inbox and let me know what you think! I read all the tags :)

part I part ii part iii part iv

June 4 (thurs)

Laurel clipped her pager back onto her scrubs, leaning over the counter of the nurses’ station. “You ready to go grab lunch?” She had just finished changing the bandages and administering pain medication for a little boy who was recovering from a heart surgery, and was looking forward to getting off her feet for a few minutes. The PICU floor was quiet, only about half of the rooms being filled, and there were no pressing matters that required her attention. If something drastic changed in the next half an hour, she always had her pager. 

Madeline looked up from her chair, where she was finishing up filling in a patient’s chart. “Sounds good,” she said, letting their charge nurse know that they were headed down. Madeline Peltier had been one of the first people to introduce themselves to Laurel when she started; having only been on the unit for two weeks herself, she was still getting a handle on the reins and was more than willing to show Laurel around. 

Madeline was also one of the few on the floor who was just as comfortable in English as she was in French. French had been Laurel’s foreign language through college, but she was made rudely aware upon her move to Montréal that the pronunciation and slang of Canadian French was very different from the Standard French of Madame Anderson’s rural Minnesota classroom. Her grasp of the language was good enough to take the Québec nursing licensure exam — which wasn’t even offered in English — but the spoken dialect was proving much more difficult to pick up. They walked down to the cafeteria, on the second floor, grabbing some sandwiches before swiping their ID badges for the employee discount. 

“I still think they should give us free food,” Madeline said moodily, unscrewing her water bottle and taking a sip. 

Laurel laughed. “When hell freezes over, maybe. Doctor’s lounge usually has some pretty nice stuff set out, or at least that’s what they say. Pity our cards don’t let us in, I’m not above identity theft.” Madeline snorted into her sandwich. 

“What are you doing this weekend?” Madeline asked a few minutes later, starting to peel an orange. 

“Uh, not much?” Laurel said. “Getting my papers together to resign my lease in a few weeks, grocery shopping, but nothing big. It’s been a long few shifts this week and I’m mostly just looking forward to taking it easy. Why?”

“If you’re up to it,” Madeline shrugged, “Patrice and I are going out for dinner Saturday night and we’d love for you to join us.” Patrice was Madeline’s long-time boyfriend, they started dating in university and had been together ever since. 

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Madeline, thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to keep being your third wheel.” 

Madeline let out a conspiratorial grin. Oh no, Laurel thought. This can’t be good. “As it would so happen,” she said, “you wouldn’t be third wheeling. One of Patrice’s friends is back in the city for a few months, and I think you two might hit it off,” she sing-songed. Madeline had been trying to set her up from practically the moment they met; whether it was someone from her gym, one of the critical care fellows, or apparently, her boyfriend’s childhood friend. They were always nice guys, but nothing had ever stuck for more than a date or two. 

---

Twelve hour shifts meant that, at least on work days, there was no way Laurel was going to have the emotional or physical capacity to make herself a real dinner. She’d order in occasionally, but it more common to just pull together something quick like a frozen pizza or grab whatever leftovers she could find in the fridge. Yesterday’s chicken and rice it was, then. Sticking it in the microwave, Laurel opened the door to her balcony, letting Piper out to use the bathroom. Piper was an eight-month-old chocolate lab, the love of her life who she had adopted just after the new year. Laurel had always grown up with dogs; back in Minnesota she had Jackson and Lucy, and she had been missing them more than a little bit since moving to Canada. Piper was incredible. Intelligent, loyal, and so friendly that even her neighbor’s notoriously picky five-year-old son had taken a shine to her. She wolfed down her food, grabbed Piper’s leash and her water bottle, and headed out the door. 

June 5 (fri)

The intricacies of language were hard. And, somehow, learning the intricacies of a language you already knew was even harder. Laurel was trying her damndest to pick up Québecois French as fast as humanly possible, but while she could conjugate l’imparfait in her sleep, the accent and vocabulary were what was really throwing her off. But she intended on making a life in Montréal, and staying as long as she could, so there really wasn’t any option but to hit the books. Immersion worked for some people, and thank God she knew the medical terminology to communicate with her patients and their families, but it wasn’t quite the same when she was struggling through telling the mechanic her car needed an oil change. In a perfect world she’d have someone to help her one-on-one, but she didn’t want to ask Madeline for that big of a favor. And while she made decent money at the hospital — she could afford her own apartment and had a little left over every month to put into savings — it was nowhere near enough to pay for a tutor. So Duolingo, and podcasts, and Youtube lessons it was. 

Letting out a groan, Laurel leaned her head into her hands, shutting her laptop. She wasn’t going to make any progress being this frustrated. She bent down to scratch Piper, whose favorite spot for naps was a blanket right beside Laurel’s desk, between the ears, pulling her leash and collar off of their book by her bedroom door. Piper’s ears perked up, and soon enough she was running around the apartment wagging her tail as fast as it could go, a slightly exasperated but nevertheless laughing Laurel following. She finally managed to clip on her leash; at fifty pounds, Piper still had a little bit of growing left to do, but she had already proven she was more than capable of bending the will of a full-grown and otherwise capable 23-year-old woman. 

She had discovered Parc Saint-François-d’Assise a few weeks after adopting Piper, and had thanked her lucky stars for finding a dog park so close to her apartment. Having a schedule like hers meant that she couldn’t always get her to a weekly training or obedience class — plus, the French that she did know certainly didn’t include ‘heel’ — so the time spent socializing was well-appreciated. It was only a fifteen minute walk, and Piper was good enough on a leash that she only stopped once to bark at a squirrel in one of the many birch trees that lined the street. The park was an acre or two, small enough that she could see all the way across and keep an eye on Piper as she let her off-leash, but big enough that there was more than enough room for all the animals. It wasn’t particularly crowded that Friday; Laurel was confused for a moment before she remembered that most people were busy at 11 AM on a weekday. There were a few families, with kids out for the summer from school, and a man playing in the far corner with his two small dogs, but not much else. 

Laurel leaned down, unclipping the leash from Piper’s collar, and gave the chocolate lab a scratch on the head. “Have fun, girl!” Piper never needed much encouragement, and took off running almost before Laurel had even wrapped up her leash. Rolling her eyes and laughing, she picked up her phone. A text from Allison, one of her only friends in the city aside from Madeline, inviting her out for her birthday next week. Madeline, giving her the address for the restaurant the next night. The Duolingo owl, threatening her with bodily harm if she didn’t log her language progress for the day. She was so engrossed in checking her email that she didn’t hear the shout for her to look out, or the two bulldogs barreling towards her at full speed, until they had knocked her off her feet and she landed straight on her ass. 

“Desolé. Vas-tu bien?” The man asked, holding out a hand and helping her up. Laurel nodded, brushing the dirt off her jeans. 

“Ouais, ouais. Pas de problème, pas de mal. Ils sont chiens, non?” 

He chuckled, patting the smaller of the two bulldogs, which had decided to take a break from accosting passers-by to get petted. “C’est vrai.” They talked for another minute or two before saying goodbye, but she could have sworn it was an hour. 

Walking Piper home half an hour later, Laurel was struck with two realizations. The mystery man — bulldog dad, as she had started calling him in her internal monologue — had very possibly the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen in her life, and she’d be cursing herself for the next week for not getting his number. 

June 6 (sat)

Saturday meant Laurel had a day off, but more importantly, Saturday meant she didn’t have to set her alarm for 5:30 and could actually wake up at a semi-normal hour. Her internal clock didn’t wake her up until half past seven; even then, it was Piper’s soft barks that finally got her up, throwing on a pait of shorts, and leading her out to the courtyard down the hallway to use the bathroom before coming back to her apartment and throwing open the fridge doors. No 7 AM shift meant that she mercifully had enough time to make a proper breakfast. On shift days, there never seemed to be enough time to actually sit down and eat, and Laurel usually ended up just having a quick bowl of cereal or some overnight oats and making a protein shake to drink on the drive over. Eggs, bread, yogurt, a peach she had picked up from the farmer’s market. 

After the bread was done toasting and her tea was finished steeping, she gingerly carried the food out to the balcony, placing it on the table as Piper trotted out behind her. Laurel crunched her toast with one hand as she flipped the pages of a book with the other, a Shirley Chisholm biography that Victoria, her best friend from high school, had recommended her. It was almost an hour later when she finally found a good place to stop. As much as she may have liked to just camp out on her balcony all day and blow through the rest of the book, her pantry was crying out for a grocery run and she was running desperately low on ice cream. 

---

The dinner reservation was at 7, and by 6:30 Laurel was almost ready to leave. Her blue skirt fanned out on the couch as she sat killing time on her phone, tapping the floor nervously with the same pair of block heels that she’d worn to her university graduation. The restaurant wasn’t far from her apartment building, so a few minutes later, she decided to go, leaving Piper with a pat on the head and plenty of food in her bowl. Laurel laughed to herself on the way over, her eyes flickering over the skyline as she walked alongside the St. Lawrence River. 

It’s like what she had told Madeline over and over again, every time she tried to set her up on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She wasn’t actively looking for a relationship but wouldn’t be opposed to it. Whatever happens, happens. Biting her lip, Laurel decided that even if she didn’t hit it off with whatever guy Madeline was trying to set her up, even if things go horribly wrong and he’s the exact opposite of what she’s looking for in a partner, she’ll get a free meal and, hopefully, a new friend.

Laurel hadn’t been told much about her blind date, or anything, really. She didn’t even know his name. From what she had been able to figure out, he was from the area but didn’t work in Canada most of the year — so maybe he was in business? All Madeline told her was that he was tall, attractive, and had a dog. Or was it two? She honestly couldn’t remember. She trusted her and Patrice’s judgement, so if he had gotten their stamp of approval, it was good enough for her. She grabbed her phone out of her bag as she neared the restaurant, letting Madeline know she was almost there and asking where to meet her. She told the hostess she was meeting some friends, and Madeline walked around the corner less than a minute later. “Hi, love!” she said, reaching out and wrapping Laurel in a warm hug. “We’re over this way.” Laurel followed her around the corner and past the bar to a four-seater against the wall. She slid into the seat closest to the wall, leaving a space empty. 

“He should be back in a minute, just ran to the bathroom,” Patrice said, nodding towards the vacant seat and referring to her mystery man. A minute passed, Laurel scanning the wine list, before Madeline threw her hand up in greeting. 

“Salut, PL!” When Laurel looked up, she almost dropped her menu.

 “Oh my God!” The stranger — PL’s — eyes widened in recognition. “You’re the bulldog dad!” 

He chuckled, rounding the table to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. Left, then right. It had taken Laurel a while to get used to; even going to university in Toronto, cheek kissing was practically obsolete, but that changed very quickly upon her move to Montréal. “I am. Pierre-Luc Dubois, good to meet you properly this time.” 

Madeline looked between the two, clearly confused. “You know each other?” 

Laurel shook her head. “Not really, no. His dogs ran into me at the park yesterday when I was there with Piper, we talked for a minute or two.” 

Pierre nodded in affirmation. “So, Piper. The chocolate lab’s yours then?” 

“My pride and joy.” 

June 13 (sun)

 Over the next week and a half, it became more and more common for Laurel to meet up with the group on the weekend, or one of her off days, or really whenever she had spare time. She had learned that Pierre-Luc was a hockey player, Patrice explaining that they had played atom league together growing up and the friendship had somehow stuck. Come to think of it, he had looked a little familiar. The University of Minnesota Duluth was less than an hour drive from her hometown, and besides being the college that the majority of the 50% of college-bound graduates of her high school went to, it also had one of the best hockey programs in the country. So she knew the sport, followed enough to be informed, and had even become a de facto Maple Leafs fan from her time in Toronto. 

Sometimes Madeline and Laurel would bring another friend from the hospital along, sometimes it was just the four of them. Once, a Sunday afternoon coffee meetup turned into just Laurel and Pierre-Luc; Patrice had come down with a bad cold and Madeline was staying behind to look after him. If she was being honest, it was far less awkward than she had anticipated. Pierre had insisted on buying her iced capp, and they had settled in a corner booth, sharing a box of Timbits. 

“Patrice mentioned you’re from the U.S., somewhere in the Midwest?” Pierre asked, sipping his coffee. 

She nodded. “Cloquet, Minnesota,” Laurel sighed, “where there is exactly one hotel, one high school, and life revolves around the mines.” 

Pierre sucked in. “That sounds...interesting,” he said diplomatically. 

Laurel laughed. “It’s okay, you don’t have to mince words. The people are nice, if you think like they do, and the scenery is gorgeous, but…” She gathered her thoughts. “It’s not the place you can really dream big, you know?” He nodded. “Neither of my parents went to college, my mom’s a receptionist at the elementary school and my dad works in the mines. I knew by the time I was in high school that I wanted something more. There was just nothing for me there, and I didn’t ever want to feel as trapped and beaten down as some people I know.” 

Pierre leaned back in his chair. “Do you go back often?” 

“Once a year, maybe twice?” Laurel said, shaking her head. “I’ve only got a few good friends back there, and trust me, they’re much more excited to come to big-city Canada than I would be to go back to a town of 12,000 people.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Conversation between them flowed easily, so easily that before she knew it, two hours had gone by and he had to leave for a skate. As she walked back to the metro, Laurel couldn’t help but shake the feeling that the two hours she had spent with Pierre had felt more like a date than any she’d been on since moving to Montréal a year ago. But it couldn’t have been a date, because it wasn’t supposed to be. Right?

 June 15 (tues)

 It was half past seven on Tuesday, and Laurel was just getting home from work. She loved her job, genuinely, but twelve hour shifts were no joke. Spinning her key ring around her finger, she stopped in the mailroom, unlocking her box and fishing out the stack of envelopes that had accumulated in the two days since she’d last checked. Walking over to the elevators, she held the bundle in one hand as the other punched in her button to the third floor. Laurel flipped through the envelopes as the doors opened. Water bill, bank statement, letter from Immigration, Refugees, and Citizenship Canada. Hang on. Laurel stopped at the last envelope, running her finger under the flap as she turned her key in the lock, opening the door with her hip and letting it slam shut behind her. 

She had applied a little over a month ago for her permanent residency card, which she had been assured by everyone she asked would be a relatively easy and painless process. “You’re a nurse, and a good one. I could use ten of you,” her charge nurse had stated. “You went to school here, you have a Canadian degree and a Canadian license. There’s no reason they would cause you any trouble,” Madeline had said. And she had done her due diligence, double-checked every piece of information, checked off every document on the list. Done everything she was supposed to do. So when she unfolded the paper, the words shocked her. 

Denied. Laurel brought her hand shakily up to her mouth as her eyes raced down the letter. No explanation was given, all she was told was that her application had been rejected and she had until September 17, when her work visa expired, to leave the country. The first thing Laurel did was frantically grab her laptop, seeing if there was some way she could apply for a visa extension, but the deadline had passed; she’d have to go back to the consulate in Minneapolis and try to re-apply from there, but her chances weren’t good if she’d already been rejected. The second thing she did was collapse on the floor, Piper nosing herself under her arm, and cry. 

June 16 (wed)

When the group met up for lunch the next day, Madeline noticed something was off about Laurel almost immediately. Normally someone who was hyper-focused on the task at hand, she was stirring her straw around in her glass, nibbling at a piece of bread and answering questions shortly if at all. “What’s up?” she asked carefully, catching Laurel’s eye as she tried to busy herself with straightening her napkin. There wasn’t really a way she could get out of answering that one. 

“I, uh, I got a letter yesterday,” she said. Pierre and Patrice stopped their conversation. All eyes were on her. “From immigration services. They told me,” her eyes pricked with tears, “they told me my PR application was denied, and I only have until the middle of September before I have to leave.” 

“Like, leave the country?” Pierre asked. She nodded. “But can’t you renew your visa or something?” 

“No, I looked into everything.” Laurel said in frustration, shaking her head. “There’s not enough time for it to be processed, I’d have to go back and reapply in the States, and even then the chances aren’t great.” 

Madeline leaned over, wrapping Laurel up in a hug. “Oh, Laur. I’m so sorry,” she said. “You don’t deserve this.” 

“It’s just hard,” Laurel started, “knowing that there’s nothing there for me back home. That’s the whole reason why I came to Canada in the first place, to get away. To get out. I’d have to retake all my licensure exams and find a new job and I don’t want to have to start all over when that’s not at all what I planned for. I thought I’d stay. I thought this was going to be my home” 

“I can call my friend who’s a lawyer, see if he’s got any ideas?” Patrice offered. 

Laurel smiled weakly “Thanks, Patrice, but I really don’t think they’d be able to do much. I was on the website for hours, and there’s like two ways I wouldn’t be kicked out of the country. And I don’t think I’m going to be able to give birth by September 17,” she said, letting out a watery laugh. 

“You’d have to marry someone or something to stay,” Madeline said. 

“Yeah, that’s the only other way it was going to happen,” Laurel agreed. “But seeing as how I’m obscenely single, I don’t see that happening…” She trailed off. 

“I’d marry you,” Pierre said suddenly, shrugging. 

Laurel’s head whipped to her side. “You’d what?” 

“I’d marry you. We’re both single, by all accounts you’re an amazing nurse and deserve to stay. We get married, stay ‘together’ for a few years until you get your citizenship, and then tragically inform the citizenship and immigration people that while we tried, it just didn’t work out, and get a divorce. Easy peasy.” 

Laurel almost burst out laughing, the idea was so ridiculous. She almost couldn’t wrap her head around what he was offering to do. He couldn’t be serious. Right? 

---

Laurel slung her arm over her head, body tangled up in bedsheets. According to her phone, it was well past one. She couldn’t sleep. She had tried rain sounds, counting sheep, drinking a cup of chamomile tea, but nothing was working; she just wasn’t able to still her mind. Honestly, she couldn’t stop thinking about lunch earlier. More specifically, what Pierre had said. 

As much of a bad person as it may have made her sound, the more she thought about Pierre’s offer, the more it made sense. He was incredibly attractive, so it wouldn’t be hard to fake a marriage to him for a few years. She really didn’t keep in contact with anyone from back home in Cloquet aside from her family and a few friends from high school, so it’s not like there would really be anyone to blow her cover. And she really, really wanted to stay in Canada. It wasn’t just the scenery, or the general human decency of everyone, or even the universal healthcare that pushed her to stay. She had fallen in love with the people, the city, and didn’t want to go down without a fight. 

Rolling over, she grabbed her phone from her nightstand, pulling up Pierre’s contact. Hey, she texted. Laurel immediately cursed herself as the three dots popped up on his side. Hey? She was going to ask this man to marry her and the best she could come up with was hey? He wrote back immediately. Hey. You’re up late, what’s up? Laurel took a deep breath. How serious were you about offering to marry me? His second response was even faster than the first. As a heart attack.

[anotheronechicagobog]

Crockett Marcel x reader D’accord (Oneshot)

Written by: @anotheronechicagobog​

Warnings: Mature themes, America has HORRENDOUS gun laws, seriously as a Canadian I get second hand anxiety about your gun laws/judicial system (even though Canada’s is far from perfect)/healthcare system, April is not written well here but I’m gonna do a nice fic for her soon, pardon my French (literally, quite a bit of this fic is in French with translations)

You’d been surprised to find another Francophone in Chicago. After you’d moved there from Quebec, you weren’t expecting much. Only a couple of “Oui, oui,” and “hon, hon, hon”’s from some unintentionally insulting Americans. So when, during your fifth shift, you swore in your native tongue “merde!” you’d been pleasantly surprised when Crockett had responded without missing a beat.

You’d shown him French-Canadian food, he’d shown you Cajun food, and you had each gained a confidant at med. And you’d both needed it. You were in a new country with very different social customs and laws, and April had kissed him while Choi was deployed leaving him a magnet for gossip. You’d both just needed someone to talk to, and speaking French with each other was just an added comfort.

“What did Doris say this time?”

“I don’t care that people are talking about me, I really don’t. Gossip is just part of hospital life and that’s fine, but I am so tired of being glared at and avoided. People aren’t even bothering to get to know me. I am just so tired about having to fight for a basic level of confidence in my colleagues for something that I didn’t even do! She kissed me, she just walked up and kissed me, how is this my fault?”

“I’m sorry Cherie.”

“I know. How was your day?”

“Anderson pretended to shoot at me again.”

“Seriously? You should report him to HR.”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to be overreacting.”

“He is pretending to have a gun and waving it at you on a daily basis because he knows that you are from a country with decent gun laws. What about the day he comes in with a real gun? And loaded? What if he actually shoots you? You need to report him, Cher.”

“Okay, I will. At the end of the day.”

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

You sat at Molly’s away from the main group, shunned by your colleagues. “It was just a joke, Y/N, can’t you take a joke?” But it didn’t feel like a joke. Not to you. You already felt like you should be wearing a kevlar vest on a regular basis; you didn’t need to be made fun of for your very real fear. You were busy moping when someone plopped down in the stool beside you. “Mon journée a sucé. Dites-moi que le vôtre était meilleur.” (My day sucked. Tell me yours was better)

“Voyez-vous la foule de gens qui me regardent et qui parlent de moi là-bas?” (Do you see the crowd of people looking at me and talking about me there)

“Zut. J'espérais vraiment que ça irait mieux.” (Damn. I was really hoping it would get better)

“Moi aussi.” (Me too)

“The hell are you two speaking? Swedish?”

“... It’s French, Hermann.”

“If you say so Y/N... You guys want another round?”

“Yes, please, kind sir.” Trying to make a joke with the man everyone said had a heart of gold and a belly full of laughs at all times.

“Well, okay then. French people are weird.” Both you and Crockett sucked in a breath. Explaining was always the hardest part. “We are not French people. Crockett is Cajun, and I am French-Canadian.”

“Okay, I don’t know what Cajun is, but isn’t French-Canadian just a Canadian who speaks French?”

“Mon Dieu.” (My God)

“Sacre bleu (Damn it), Hermann. No, a French-Canadian is not just a Canadian who speaks French, and unless you want to start a war in a country you don’t even live in, I advise you to refrain from speaking in that manner again. And just for the record, a Cajun person is someone descended from Acadia settlers in Nova Scotia who left for Louisianna to flee the British.”

“... Okay. I’m sorry I asked.” You just held your breath as Crockett swore under his breath. You opened your eyes, grabbed your glass over bourbon and downed it. “Je sais que je viens juste d'arriver, mais je veux déjà partir.” (I know I just arrived, but I already want to leave)

“Allons-y alors.” (Let’s go then) Marcel threw cash down on the bar before you could argue and helped you put your coat on. “Avez-vous déjà mangé des tapas? J'ai entendu dire qu'il y avait un super endroit à quelques pâtés de maisons d'ici.” (Have you ever eaten tapas? Heard there is a great place a few blocks from here)

“Montrez le chemin.” (Lead the way)

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

There was a new hot button topic of gossip the next day at MED. You and Marcel. Of course, no one was that cordial. ‘He couldn’t have a nurse so he went for an intern?’, ‘What, she thought being an intern is too difficult so she’s hooking up with a doc so she doesn’t fail?’. None of anything they were saying was true. First of all, April kissed and then rejected him all while she was dating someone else, second, he wasn’t even your attending. You did your ED rotation before he got here. You were on your pediatrics rotation, and kicking ass at it. Third, he didn’t know anyone here besides you thanks to April, so who exactly was he gonna say ‘give her a pass for me’ to? You just rolled your eyes and continued working. At the end of the day, that was what would speak for you. 

You hadn’t been very close to April, or anyone in the ED really, they’d all had their own drama going on the entire time you were there, so you just faded into the background. But now, April was making an effort to talk to you. You would have found it odd, had it not been at the time the rumours were really flying, and if you hadn’t seen the burning question behind her eyes. She was jealous. She damn well wouldn’t admit it, but she was. And you were angry at her, and at least you were grown up enough to admit that. She had hurt Crockett. Damaged his work relationships and reputation before he’d even started. So you acted like you enjoyed her company. You talked about literally anything that wasn’t Crockett Marcel. You watched as her questioning eyes grew more and more desperate. If she was going to come to you acting like a jealous girlfriend she should have had the decency to be honest. But she wasn’t. And Crockett was paying the price. So you tortured her a bit. It wasn’t that bad, honestly. Plus, what made her think she had any right to know about relationships you may or may not be in? But her feelings did become noticeable. To the other nurses, doctors, interns. Suddenly everyone was aware that she had kissed Crockett, and that Ethan wasn’t the only doctor she had feelings for. You felt bad for Crockett, he’d gotten sucked into a wormhole before he even knew his feet were leaving the ground. The same thing could be said for Dr. Choi’s fist. 

You pushed back the curtain and marched over to Crockett who was too busy arguing with Maggie to notice you at first. “Have you gotten a CT done yet?”

“Oh- Dr. Y/L/N. Uh, let me check. Uh... Here.” Maggie handed you and a skeptical Will the tablet with Crockett’s head CT already loaded. The black and white image should have comforted you. It looked good, no injuries or anomalies. But you kept looking, you kept gripping the tablet no matter how much your knuckles, and fingers, and wrists were starting to hurt. “Cher?” You slowly looked up, Maggie and Halstead had left the room at some point. “You seein’ something Halstead didn’t?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have the voice to. Instead, you regarded his face intently. Choi had only gotten in a single punch, thankfully, so there was only bruising around his right eye. You moved to stand in front of him, standing in between his legs which were dangling off the side of the bed. “Cher?” The bruise was already purple, the section around the forehead turning black. Your lips pressed into a firm line. After setting the tablet on the end table you gently took Crockett’s face in your hands. Ignoring the rest of him, you gently drifted your fingers around the bruising. Your stomach sunk the more you looked at it. It wasn’t inflamed, there wasn’t any bleeding, his CT was clear. But you just couldn’t shake the weight in your gut. You didn’t even know what you were looking for. But you kept looking. “Cher.” No inflammation. “Cher.” No bleeding. “Cher.” Clear CT. “Cher.” Keep looking. “Cher.” Crockett delicately grabbed your wrist, finally grabbing your attention, bringing more than the bruise on his eye into your focus. “I’m okay, Cher.” His eyes were boring into yours, pleading for you to listen to him. He moved his hand from your wrist up overtop of your hand before intertwining your fingers together and leaning his face into your clasped hands at the side of his face.

“D’accord?” (Okay?)

“D’accord.” (Okay) He smiled gingerly. Still looking at you with soft eyes that made you melt he opened his mouth, you could tell that words in his native language were on the tip of his tongue, when the curtains in the room were pushed back suddenly. April stood, tall, strong, and with a look of utter betrayal on her face. No one in the room said anything, no one in the room breathed. Slowly, as if she were avoided a cornered coyote, April backed out of the room, her chest starting to shake, her eyes watering. Soon you were left alone in the room, your hand still wrapped in Crockett’s. Now in full view of the entire ED staff and gossip mill.

[anjuschiffer]

Amira Wayne - Chapter 16

:D

Chapter 16: Villain

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P. Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh

Tag: @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze @promiswords @fantasiame @corabeth11 @anonymously-odd @alexandriamw @officiallydarkgeek @galla02006 @maleive07

-

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

Wally stirred around in the bed, patting around the bed to look for his phone. After a while, he found it, flinching harshly when he found it and dared to check the time within the dark room. 

5:30 in the morning. 

Getting up, Wally noticed Amira missing from her room, deciding to look for her. 

Unsurprisingly, he found her in the kitchen, baking. 

“Want to talk about it?” Wally asked, sitting on a nearby stool. He watched Amira continue to knee the bread dough, her lips pursed as she ignored him. “Want to talk about something else?”

The pregnant silence in the kitchen remained there until Amira spoke moments later. 

“Please.” Amira practically begged as she whispered, her kneeing stopping. 

“Say no more. Remember when you left me here alone? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about Bridgette! She’s the most adorable baby there is! And can you believe she actually held my hand? She held it for like two seconds. Two seconds!”

Wally went on to talk about the time he spent with Bridgette and how next time he will bring her some toys to play with. 

He watched as Amira’s shoulders began to sink back down, her kneeing becoming less aggressive and the furrow of her brows less tense. 

Wally made a mental note of investigating what caused Amira to have nightmares again. 

After all, it’s been months he last saw her stress baking because of one. 

What caused her to have one now?

-

Marinette appreciated the cold wind in her face, allowing her to forget the events from this morning. 

She didn’t think video games would give her flashbacks of the days she used to play them with Jason. Days where they would stay up all night playing them until Alfred caught them or the days Dick would join them and then whine when he would lose.

Memories she believed she had deeply buried within her mind only for a Victim to bring them back with ease. 

Days she missed dearly and wished badly for…

But the past was the past and there was nothing she could do to bring Jason back…even if she wanted to...

Stopping at the bottom of the school steps, she let out a deep sigh before going up the stairs, hoping to forget the vivid dreams of last night.

Just as she had a small plan on how to get rid of them, the moment she stepped into the school, she knew something was off. Something was interrupting the equilibrium and she hated that.

Shaking the feeling off, Amira headed to class, taken back by the small decorations in the classroom. 

The windows were decorated with paper snowflakes, red and green ribbons draped around the yard. 

“What’s all this?” Marinette asked herself, preparing herself for the upcoming school day. Keeping her scarf, she put away her coat and a few textbooks she didn’t need. 

“Dudette, do you really not know why the school is decorated this way?” Nino asked, closing his locker. 

“No be honest, no.” A gasp came from the other side, Chloé appalled at her. 

“Dupain-Cheng. Christmas is just around the corner! How did you forget that!”

“Christmas?” Marinette repeated, wondering how she missed the holi-

Oh...right. “I...I don’t really celebrate it.” Marinette admitted, then remembering the last time she ever spent Christmas with her Grandpere and father...and with Jason… or rather...without him...

“Marinettte, are you-” Sabrina was about to ask if she was okay when the bell rang.

Now with a tense atmosphere, the friends made their way to their classroom, Chloe feeling miserable as she watched Marinette zone out throughout class.

During chemistry, the girl excused herself various times, making Alya having to do most of the work herself.

“What’s bothering her?” Adrien asked Chloe, noticing that she too was acting strange since that morning.

Pursing her lips, Chloe let out a sigh as she began to label the diagram in her textbook.

“I may have upsetted her.” Chloe admitted. “We were talking about how Christmas was right around the corner. I asked how she forgot it when she told me she doesn’t celebrate and then...she just...went quiet.” Chloe trailed, letting her pencil fall out of her hand. “Adrien, I messed up.”

“You didn’t know she would react like that.” Adrien replied, watching as Marinette walked back into the room, apologizing to Alya as she sat in her seat. “So you apologize for it.”

“Okay, so I apologize for it, but how do I prepare for the next time? I don’t know what I said that made her...well, change.”

“It might have been old memories.” Adrien quickly supplied. “Perhaps relating to her family.”

“Her family?” 

“Well, this is just a theory,” Adrien started, hoping that he was semi-right. “But I think Marinette came to Paris to move on.” Chloe arched a brow.

“Move on?”

“Well, when we first met, she mentioned having siblings.”

“Siblings? As in more than just Bridgette?” Chloe asked, remembering seeing the tiny baby when they had gone to visit her while she was sick.

“Aside from Bridgette, Marinette did mention having two-one other siblings aside from her.” He corrected himself. “But as far as we know, we know nothing about them. Never talks about them either.”

“Wait, you said two before changing to one. Why?” Crap.

“Well, that's where things get a bit complicated. When Marinette said she had siblings, she told me she had two in total although it used to be three. My guess is that, well...he has moved on.” Adrien said quietly, looking at his book with great interest. “Her eyes became dull, just like how they look like now.”

Chloe processed the information, looking over at Marinette. To think she knew so little about her good friend. Chloe hit the table with her head, letting out a groan. “Don’t worry Chlo. She’ll understand if you just ask her.”

“I hope she does.” Chloe said, lifting her head.

Class went on and shortly later, Mlle Mendeleiev began to tell the class to pack up. With the ring of the bell, everyone went onto their next class or lunch, Chloe missing the opportunity to talk to Marinette.

Sighing, Chloe picked up her things and went to have lunch with her father as they had promised to do that morning.

---

Marinette huffed as she sat across from Adrien, taking out a notebook that was heavily encrypted in code. 

After all, she didn’t want anyone else to know she was Ladybird and that she had narrowed her suspicions onto one man possibly being Hawkmoth.

“I heard what happened this morning.” Adrien said, flipping a page from his own book, Marinette noticing the odd language in it.

It looked eerily...familiar. Where had she seen that book before?

“I’m guessing Chloe told you.” Marinette continued, flipping a page in her book of evidence. “She doesn’t need to apologize. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. She didn’t do anything wrong, I did. I shouldn’t have gone silent like that. I didn’t explain to her that-”

“But it’s because she didn’t know that she should ask what made you react the way you did. For future reference. And to avoid making the same mistake.” Adrien said, looking up from his book. “Of course, you don’t have to specifically tell her-”

“It’s because of my brother.” Marinette cut off, closing her book and looking straight at Adrien. “This will be the first Christmas...since his death...a Christmas without him...” Marinette trailed.

He was right? But wait...first Christmas without him? If they were siblings, surely the two would’ve celebrated various Christmas together...right?

“When Marinette said she had siblings, she told me she had two in total although it used to be three. My guess is that, well...he has moved on.” 

Moved on…

Marinette did move from Gotham to Paris, remembering that she used to go to Gotham Academy. Surely the two had to have been greatly involved in each other’s lives if Marinette remembered her brother dearly; they had to have had a tight relation with each other. To be attached to each other-

 “-to the hip.” Alfred’s words finished off for him.

Wait...what was it he had said after that?

“Even after the two were taken by different families, the two went to the same school and stayed together. But when Jason died, her parents took her with them to open up their business in Paris. To start anew and let Amira recover from his death.”

That had to be a coincidence...yeah! A complete coincidence!

There was no way- but now that he thought about it...it kind of made sense.

For starters, Marinette didn’t look like either of her parents. She was of a darker complexion and has emerald eyes. 

Despite knowing French, Marinette spoke in a dialect that seemed more like Metropolitan French opposed to Parisian French, although her French also seemed to have Canadian influence as well. He remembered that during a spar of theirs, she accidentally said ‘aweille’ instead of ‘allez.’

Her English, for that matter, sounded more natural to her than her French, often hearing Marinette more relaxed when she spoke it.

Marinette also seemed to give off an aura of having already learned her materials, Adrien then remembering how she reacted to learning he was home schooled.

It seemed like she was somehow able to empathize with-

“-need to pick that up?” Marinette asked, snapping Adrien from his thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Your phone. It’s been ringing for a while.”

Sure enough, it as, Adrien realizing it was his father. He never called unless...oh no…

Did...Did he notice?! Already?!

Quickly getting up, Adrien dumped the book he was reading into his bag and knocked the chair down. While picking it up, his bag slid down his arm and hit the floor.

Apologizing to Marinette about having to leave her alone, he quickly ran to his locker to grab his coat in case he needed to go out.

Calling his father back, Adrien couldn’t even let a word out.

“Adrien. Come home. Now.”

---

Amira blinked for a while as she still took in what had happened just seconds ago. Shrugging it off, Amira continued to look at her data when Tikki flew out of her jacket. 

“Tikki!” Amira hissed, making sure no one had seen her. “What do you think-“

“This!” Tikki shouted, Amira going under the desk to see Tikki attempting to lift up a heavy book more precisely, the book Adrien was reading. “We have to bring this to Master Fu!”

“Master Fu? What would he be needing a book like this?” Amira asked, lifting the book and opening up its contents. “It’s just a bunch of-” 

She stopped as the page she decided to open up was one that showed a man that resembled Hawkmoth, his armor grandiose yet too loud. Seriously, wings? 

Amira looked at the image, she traced the glyphs with her fingers that were near an image of what she assumed the Butterfly miraculous looked like. “Butterfly.” Amira read, only then did it click as to why these glyphs looked so familiar.

“Amira! How do you know how to-”

“I’ve seen this before Tikki.” Amira quickly closed the book to look at its cover, the crest staring back at her. It looked just like it! “Tikki...what exactly is this?” Amira asked, feeling as if she just stumbled upon Pandora's Box. 

“I can’t tell you here.” Tikki said, looking around. Amira nodded, stuffing the book into her school bag before running out the library and back home, the cold no longer a worry.

Fumbling to find the correct key to the apartment, Amira hated how cold her fingers got as she pushed the door open. She quickly bolted up the stairs and opened up the apartment door before rushing over to her room.

Thankfully, Wally wasn’t there, allowing Amira to focus at the hand at task. 

As Amira set the book down, Tikki flew out to inspect the book, opening it up and flipping each page.

“Tikki. Explain what this is, now.” Amira demanded, opening boxes she never unpacked before. Small trinkets looked back at her, causing her to close them back up and open the next. Where was it?!

“R-Right.” Tikki said, flipping over to a page that showed different forms of the yo-yo. How did she forget its many forms? “This grimoire is a book of spells that not only enhance your abilities, but unlocks the abilities of us kwamis. It also contains information about the other miraculouses and how to use them. Of course, only those who know how to read the Guardian’s language could decipher the spells and information.”

“Guardian’s language?” 

“It’s a special language that is only passed on from one Guardian to another, a language which only they know. Not even us Kwami know. A precaution on the Guardian’s part.”

Amira hummed in response as she gave up looking at the boxes and started to rummage through her desk, tossing papers, notes and books around, stopping when she found the thing she was looking for. “By the way Amira, how do you know how to read the Guardian’s language?”

Amira showed her an old journal, placing it right next to the spellbook. The front of it had the same exact crest as the grimoire.

“My brother adored learning languages, even the obscure ones. Whenever we would have a day off from school, he would go to our father’s library and stay there all day.” Tikki watched as a soft smile formed on her face as she said so. “I remember the day he deciphered the entirety of this language, a language that had stumped researchers for years. You wanna know how he did so?”

Tikki nodded. “He noticed that the translations among the various attempts to decode the language were right. But he noticed that that was just the first layer of the text.”

“Layer?”

“The entire language is encrypted.” Amira said, flipping through the journal. “Depending on which part of the grimoire you were looking at, the code would change. The grimoire was created this way to not only test the fluency of the Guardian, but to also prevent it going into the wrong hands.”

Tikki was left in awe.

“And he did that all by himself?” Tikki watched as Amira showed her the widest grin she had ever seen on her.

“You bet! You should’ve seen the look of satisfaction when he tried to teach me how he used different dialects of Chinese, Arabic and other Native American dialects to ensure his translations were correct. Of course, I didn’t really capture everything he told me. After all, he was the linguist and I was just the student.”

Tikki softly sighed when she saw Amira talk dearly of her brother, a smile on her face that showed her true nature.

Taken by the flow of the discussion, Tikki had forgotten about the reason why they took the book in the first place.

“Amira! We have to get this book to Master Fu! He needs to see this!”

“No.” Amira quickly rejected, getting up from her seat.

“No? Amira, Master Fu-”

“I can’t give him this book just yet. Don’t you realize how valuable this is?”

“That’s exactly why-”

“It’s our greatest clue yet.” Tikki watched as Amira took out a little case from one of the boxes she had opened up earlier, popping it open to display a gadget Tikki had never seen before.

She watched as Amira got to work, placing the small gadgets on the spine of the grimoire, watching as the computer monitors began to display different windows.

It was then that Tikki figured out what Amira was doing.

“Amira...are you planning on-”

“Whoever had this grimoire has to be Hawkmoth. It’s the only plausible explanation. After all, whichever Guardian who was the one before Master Fu was foolish enough to leave the translations of the activation of the miraculouses on the book.” Amira pointed out, showing Tikki some faint mandarin writing under the glyphs. 

Tikki continued to watch in silence as Amira continued to work on the bugging of the book.

“So...we’re not giving the grimoire to Master Fu, right?”

“Not this one at least.” Amira said, showing Tikki a device that resembled a phone. “I will be sending him a copy after I finish scanning the pages.”

Satisfied with the response, Tikki continued to watch over Amira until they had to head back to school for the afternoon classes.

-

When Marinette stepped into the classroom, she didn’t expect to see Chloé crying and sobbing. Sabrina was by her side, rubbing circles on her back as she whispered ‘there, there.’

Running and collapsing to her side, Marinette urged Chloe to look at her.

“Chloe, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“It’s Adrien! His father isn’t letting him come back to school over a book! A stupid book!” Chloe threw herself onto Marinette, sobbing into her friend’s arms. “Stupid Gabriel! Adrien doesn’t deserve to be treated this way!”

“A book? Did Adrien tell you what it looked like?” Chloe wiped off the small snot off her nose.

“N-no. He only said how the book was a book of inspiration for his fa- where are you going?”

“I might know how to find it.” Marinette said, picking up her things. “Tell Ms. Bustier that I won’t be back until tomorrow.”

---

Amira looked at the book sitting on her desk, frowning at having to depart from it so quickly.

After calling Adrien, she was able to confirm that the book he had lost was indeed the grimoire. What were the odds?

“Are you really going to give it back right now? Why don’t you wait a while?”

“I don’t want Adrien to pay for something he didn’t do.”

“Well, he did take the book.”

“But then I took it away without his permission.” Amira fought back, picking up the grimoire and stuffing it into her bag. “He shouldn’t be punished for something he had no control over.”

“True.” Tikki said, watching as Amira slipped into a thicker jacket and wore a dress, something she rarely did.

“Ready to head into the lion’s den?” Amira asked Tikki, Tikki nodding, slipping into Amira’s scarf.

---

“-didn’t know it was yours, sir. I didn’t even think it belonged to Adrien until just moments ago.” Gabriel watched as the girl handed the book over to him, which he took too quickly for his liking. 

While Gabriel thought nothing of this girl, something about her bothered him. 

Perhaps it was the designer in him that screamed to grab a pen and pencil as inspiration had hit him. After all, despite working in the fashion industry, he rarely got to see models with an olive complexion. 

Her neutral expressions were also camera worthy. 

How would she look alongside Adrien during photoshoots?

Setting business aside, he focused back onto the matter at hand.

“So you took it home after finding it in the library?”

“Yes, it happened shortly after he got a phone call. It’s how I assume he left it there as he was in a hurry to answer it.”

Gabriel looked at her directly, trying to find any wavering emotions, only to find none. A child who wasn’t afraid of him. How odd.

“I see.” Gabriel said. “Seeing as Adrien didn’t actually lose the book, he will be free to attend school again. Thank you for returning my book.”

Gabriel watched as the girl curted, turning around to leave only to stop.

“I have a question and a couple of...suggestions.”

“Go on.”

“That book, I was wondering where you found it.” Gabriel watched as the girl took out a worn out picture, causing his eyes to widen ever so slightly.

In the photo, there was a boy with the same exact book in his hands, deciphering what seemed to be the contents of it. “Before my brother passed, he was researching texts that looked similar to the ones inside the book. So of course, I wanted to know if it was the same-”

“I found mine overseas while on a trip with my wife.” Gabriel cut off, wondering why he even told her that. “Since I bought it, I have never seen another copy of it, until now. Do you know what happened to your brother’s copy?”

Gabriel didn’t know what to expect when the girl shook her head.

“Most of his research along with the book disappeared in the fire that took my brother a year ago in Gotham.” The girl said, frowning as she told him. “The only thing I have left from him is this photo.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Gabriel softly said. “Now, you mentioned suggestions.”

“Right.” The girl composed herself. “I left a few translations in the book based on what I remembered from my brother’s notes. But my main suggestion is for you to be more lenient with Adrien. Take it from a child who was also homeschool for half her life. 

Resentment isn’t a pretty thing. While they’re easy to hide, they aren’t the easiest to control once they spill. With Paris’ situation...well, you know the rest.” Gabriel let those words sink in, something in his head clicking. “Well, I hope to see Adrien at school tomorrow. And it was nice seeing you Mr. Agreste, although, this wasn’t my first time seeing you.”

Dumbfounded, Gabriel watched as the girl left his home, wondering what she meant by those words.

He walked back to his office, placing the grimoire back into its place before taking it back. He pressed some hidden buttons on the portrait, feeling the ground below him submerge.

---

Wally flinched when the hatch to Amira’s room swung open.

“Hey! Did-” Amira pressed a finger to her lips before gesturing towards the monitors, taking a seat in her chair and putting on some headphones.

Wally watched as Amira’s map of the Agreste residency started to map out, watching as a red dot began to go below ground.

“Holy shit Amira.” Wally whispered, grinning like a madman. “You fucking did it...and without me!” He whined, Amira ignoring it as she watched the dot come to a stop.

“So that’s where you have been hiding...Hawkmoth.”

---

Amira yawned as she made her way up the stairs of the school.

How she regretted staying up with Wally. She is never letting him take over the Beetle ever again. He treated her camera as if it were some type of toy! The nerve!

As she made her way to her locker, taking off her coat as she walked, Marinette couldn’t help but notice the buzzing around her and within the halls. 

She also couldn’t help but notice the name Lila being said in every sentence she heard. 

Lila this, Lila that. Just who was this Lila?

“Lila? That’s the name of our latest transfer student!” Alya said, putting her coat into her locker. Guess she said that out loud. 

And a transfer student? It’s already December for crying out loud!

Picking up a few books, Alya showed Marinette a video, or rather an interview where the girl reminisced about her meeting with Ladybird. 

Marinette watched with disgust as the new transfer student blabbered about events that didn’t happen, even going as far as saying that the two were good friends by the end of their supposed meeting. 

“When did you say she arrived in Paris?” Marinette asked, closing her locker and placing her lock.

“Seriously? You still place a lock on your locker? Come on, we’re grown! We can trust-”

“Trust is earned, not given. And you didn’t answer my question. When did she arrive?”

“Just yesterday! Which is why I thought it was so cool that she got to meet Ladybird-”

“How do you know she even met Ladybird? Not even you have and you’re the only reporter in all of Paris that even dares to approach Ladybird during and after a fight.”

Alya pursed her lips as she looked at her phone.  

Marinette was right. 

How come she didn't get to converse with Ladybird despite their many encounters? Why hasn’t she yet got to get an exclusive interview with Ladybird while Lila got one on her first day in Paris?

That wasn’t fair. “And even if it was true, doesn’t it seem a little odd? There wasn’t an attack yesterday, meaning that Ladybird was on patrol and we all know Ladybird never talks with civilians while she’s out on patrol. She even told you it herself when you encountered her the second time all those months ago, or did you already forget?”

Alya felt herself bringing her head down, remembering the time she got akumatized into Lady WiFi. 

She had tried to go after Ladybird, trying to find out her identity as the next big scoop for her blog - Ladyblog. 

After days of tracking her patrol route, Alya decided to track down Ladybird which ended up with the vigilante scolding Alya for disrespecting her space, invading her privacy and for endangering herself. 

“Perhaps Lila-“

“Alya. Are you really going to accept Lila words just like that? Whatever happened to being a reporter that would one day rival Lois Lane herself?” Marinette reminded her, hating herself for remembering that rant from months ago. “Will you really blindly accept the words of a person without doing any type of investigation?”

Alya looked at the video staring back at her, Lila’s laughing face looking back at her. “If that’s what you want to become, then by all means, go ahead. Just don’t expect to be receiving any internships anytime soon.”

Alya watched as she felt the locker room, leaving Alya with herself. 

Did Marinette really not believe in Lila’s words? 

She wasn’t one to harshly comment about people without knowing them, so why this time? 

What in Lila’s interview had bothered Marinette?

Having found a new goal, Alya quickly grabbed her things and headed towards class, the gears in her head spinning as she thought of a way to devise her investigation. 

-

“-and he even wrote a song about me!” The way Lila’s voice became a pitch higher upon ending her sentence irked Marinette, the girl rolling her eyes at the girl’s tale. 

“Welcome to the club.” Nino told her as she walked past his desk. 

“Club?”

“Seems like only us five don’t particularly like her.” Sabrina elaborated, taking out her notebook for their first class. “Something about her stories just doesn't sit right.”

“Doesn't sit right? Sabrina, they're ridiculous! Who brags about being Ladybird’s friend when she doesn’t even make friends with civilians? She made that loud and clear with Cesaire!”

“I see.” Marinette said, looking over at Lila, the rest of the class surrounding her and eating from the palm of her hand. “Where’s Adrien?”

“He said he’s running la-there he is!” Chloe squealed, latching onto him the moment he walked into the classroom. “Adrikins! I’m so glad you’re back!”

The group failed to see Lila look over at them, a faint blush on her face. Holy hell was that boy cute when he smiled.

“I suggest you stay away from them.” Someone told Lila, but Lila brushed the warning away.

“It may not look like it but they aren’t exactly the kindest of people.” Another voice spoke.

“You have Chloe - a bully, Sabrina - Chloe’s lapdog, Adrien - Chloe’s best friend and Marinette-  Chloe’s friend.” 

“What about the boy with the cap?” Lila asked, her eyes not leaving the sunshine boy among the group. He was...perfect...

“He’s a recent addition.”

Just as Lila was about to ask about more information about Adrien, their teacher walks in.

“Oh, I see everyone has met Lila!” Miss Bustier cooed, watching as Marinette made her way to her seat. The two made eye contact before Marinette huffed.

Ever since that humiliating first day of class, Mlle Bustier tried to bring Marinette’s behavior to M Damocles, only for him to do nothing. 

Something about her father having donated a large sum of money that allowed the school to have more STEAM programs and of the sorts. 

Ever since then, Mlle Bustier made sure to be wary of Marinette and made sure to never give her a chance to make a mockery of her teaching again. “Lila, if you would come to the front of the class to introduce yourself just in case someone hasn’t met you yet.”

Lila smiled as she grabbed her things and walked to the front.

“Hello everyone! My name is Lila Rossi! I transferred her from Italy due to my mother’s job as a diplomat. Since she’s a diplomat, we tend to move a lot.” The class cooed at that, Marinette, however, raising a brow. “I’d be happy to answer any questions about my-“

“What other places have you been?”

“Have you met anyone famous?”

“What are-“

“Class, class!” Miss Bustier raised her voice, making sure the class settled down before continuing. “Now, Lila will answer your questions one by one.”

“Thank you Mlle Bustier. As for where I have traveled, I’ve been to Spain, England, Achu and now I’m here. I met Prince Ali in Achu and I can’t tell you how marvelous it was being able to spend hours with him.” 

Once more, the class cooed. Marinette remained unfazed, noticing how the girl lied with ease. 

“Just recently, I was in Gotham. I even got to go to this year’s Gala!“

Lila noticed Chloe raising her hand. “Yes?”

“How come I didn’t see you then? Surely I would’ve recognised that ridiculous hairstyle of yours anywhere.” Chloe asked, earning a harsh warning from Mlle Bustier.

“You make a good point Chloe. I also didn’t see you there.” Adrien said, causing Lila to pale.

“Oh right, I forgot the two of you went to Gotham for Wayne Gala as well.” Lila heard Marinette say, her face neutral. “Weren’t you guys invited to stay at the Manor as well?”

Shit. 

“Well, perhaps you didn’t see me because I was spending the entire night talking with Jason and keeping him company throughout the gala!” Lila said, placing her hands together. “Everyone was told that he couldn’t make it to the gala due to having other priorities the next day, but the truth is that he wanted to spend time with me before I had to head here.”

No one noticed the way Marinette stiffened, the way her eyes widened and her hands began to form a fist. Everyone was either too busy cooing or gagging.

“You’re lying.” Marinette seethed.

“I know it’s hard to believe it, but it’s true! Jason and I are the bestest of friends and M. Wayne is like a second father to me! All night, we were chatting away, Jason telling how he was the one who created the foundation in honor of-”

“Shut up.” Marinette said it loudly enough for the class to hear, causing them to turn to her direction. 

“Pardon?” Lila said with a tilt of her head, wondering why exactly this girl was getting so on edge.

“I said, shut up.” Marinette said, her voice just above a whisper. “Shut up before you-“

“Marinette!” Mlle Bustier raises her voice. This girl wasn’t going to bully this poor girl on her first day of class! Not on her watch! “Apologize at-”

“No Mlle Bustier, let her-“

“You said you knew Jason...when did you meet him?“ Marinette said as she got up.

“We met when we were little, around 5 years old. M. Wayne-”

“Bruce Wayne adopted Jason just over two years ago.” Marinette cut off.

“5? I mean to say 12.” Lila corrected herself. “And like I was going to say, he told me he had been planning this for quite a-”

“He couldn’t have told you that himself!” Marinette yelled, getting up from her seat and slamming her hands on the table. “And don’t you dare claim that he did!”

“You weren’t there, so how-“

“Because he would never tell someone like you about it! Hell, even if he did show a liking to you, there’s no way he would’ve been able to.”

“Why do you keep saying that? Jason and I are good buddies!“ Lila cried out, tears pooling in her eyes.

Marinette could hear the yells behind her that told her to stop bullying Lila. To stop acting so jealous over her exciting life.

“Stop lying! Jason couldn’t have told you anything because he’s dead!” Marinette yelled, feeling her eyes sting. 

How she hated how her body trembled and burned with rage. 

Somewhere in the distance, she heard Tikki whisper to her to calm down. 

But how can she? This harlot was using her dear brother's name for fame..she couldn't sit back and watch this girl do that.!

“And how would you know? You probably have never left-“

“Because unlike you, I actually knew him! I’ve actually met him! I was there when he got taken in by Bruce. The two of us went to Gotham Academy, because yes! I’m actually a Gothamite! And not only that, he was my best friend!” Marinette yelled, feeling her throat grow dry. “And I! And I was there the day he died during a villain attack in Gotham so don’t you dare say you knew him when there was no possibility in you ever speaking to him!” 

Marinette marched down the steps and grabbed Lila by the collar of her shirt, Lila’s hazel eyes not being a challenge for her emerald ones. “So I suggest you shut your damn trap and stop lying to everyone in this damn room just so you could get a lick of attention! 

Unlike them, I can’t be fooled by such trickery. You’re nothing but a simple con artist.”

Dropping Lila to the ground and grabbing her bag, Marinette left the classroom in a hurry, never turning back…

She never noticed the akuma that followed her hot in her heels. 

-

Hawkmoth was busy looking at the translation left on his book, trying to decipher it when he felt a shiver run down his spine.

This emotion was strong, filled with both anger and grief, a negative energy so strong, he felt his knees buckle. He grinned at this golden opportunity. 

He would have to thank whoever made this poor soul fester into such a wonderful monster just waiting to burst out. For this will be his greatest akuma yet.

Beckoning a glistening white butterfly, it sat on his palm, Hawkmoth carefully enclosing it between his palms. Oh how he could feel the raw power in this soul. This poor soul who wanted their enemy to feel the same grief she had been dealing with for months.

“Fly, my little akuma and make her our greatest creation yet!” He praised with predetermined glory, watching as his miasma covered butterfly slipped through his hands and out the window. 

He waited as his akuma merged into the soul’s dearest possession, feeling the negative energy hit him in the face once the merging was done. 

Just as he was going to introduce himself, the soon to be Victim spoke to him. 

“I know who you are. I know what you want...but why should I let myself be used for your own gain?”

His own gain? 

To think his gem was hidden from him all these months!

Letting out a cackle, Hawkmoth couldn’t believe his luck. 

He could feel it in his blood. 

Today was the day. 

Today, he will get Ladybird’s and Chat Noir’s miraculouses. 

Victory will be his at long last!

“My own gain? On the contrary my dear. I will give you the power to make anyone you touch feel your despair and anger at losing your loved one. All you have to do,” Hawkmoth let out a chuckle. “Well, you know the rest.”

-

Adrien, Chloé, Sabrina and Nino ran out the classroom in pursuit of Marinette, watching in terror as an akuma landed on her, not seeing what item the akuma merged into. 

All they saw was their dear friend get enveloped by a hideous purple miasma. 

A few seconds passed when the miasma dispersed and turned into fog, mist so dense you can barely see your own hands in front of you. 

The four stuck together, staring at the place Marinette once stood, watching as an all white figure approached them. 

They watched with beating hearts and held breaths as the figure was now a foot in front of them, staring at them with tears flowing down their pale face and bloodshot red eyes through her thin white veil. 

“Li...la.” Marinette hoarsely said, her head tilting up to see Lila staring at her with wide eyes. “Lila.” She said with a smile.

Letting out what seemed to be a shivering wail, Lila pushed herself away from the railing and sprinted towards the other side of the school yard and fled, Marinette turning to follow her before a hand stopped her.

“Marinette.” Chloé whispered, making Marinette turn to her. “Is that-“

“I’m not Marinette.” The white figure said, clasping her hand with Chloé. 

The group watched in horror as Chloé let out a heart wrenching shriek and collapsed to the floor into a sobbing mess. They backed away from the ghostly figure as Adrien and Sabrina crouched next to Chloe, who had curled up in pain. 

The group now looked at the white figure, wary of her hands.  

“If you are not Marinette, then who are you?” Nino asked, noticing that the edges of the veil were now black.

“Banshee. My name is Banshee...”

NEXT

[kittybellestark]

Languages and Peter

This is just a thing ig it’s not great but yknow it’s smth so enjoy

Peter knows many languages. It isn’t really something people know about him, but when he was a kid his parents had pushed for him to learn new languages while it’s still be easy for him, and May and Ben enforced it.

He knows English, of course, ASL, French (the proper actual French, though it wouldn’t be hard to figure out Canadian French), he knows Spanish, Italian, German, Mandarin, Cantonese, Japanese, Russian, and he’s still trying to learn Hindi. He can get by talking many Eastern European languages due to the similarities.

Practicing was fairly easy, he had the equivalence of Pen-Pals in his phone contacts that he would call or video chat with to keep his language skills up and try to learn more.

It wasn’t necessarily something he shared at school, though it did make any language class he took significantly easier. Ordering from small restaurants as well earned him some favor with the owners when he spoke in their first language. And it made being Spider-Man so much more enjoyable, people were always surprised when he started speaking their native tongue.

Languages were easy, and fun. They were predictable.

The only person who knows that Peter speaks so many languages now is May. No one else really knows, sure a few people know he speaks another language or two but none know all the languages.

And maybe he should have said something. Explained that he’s eavesdropping on the Avengers. It wasn’t that he ever meant to listen in on their conversations, but sometimes Natasha would start speaking Russian to Bucky, or Clint and Steve would be using sign language, Bruce would speak Hindi on the phone which was Peter’s own motivation for learning it, and Tony and Pepper would speak many different languages to eachother and on the phone.

He knows none of those conversations were made for his ears, but it’s really not his fault that none of them considered that he knows more than just English. Though he really should have considered telling him after the first time, or the second, definitely after the third. Yeah, this was totally going to bite him in the ass.

The Avengers had invited him out for dinner. Peter didn’t even realize that they tend to go out for dinner, it just seemed like it would cause too much of a commotion. The full team should bring a lot of attraction when going out, but no, New York just doesn’t care. Well, that’s not fair, they care about Tony Stark, but that’s only because he’s extremely recognizable, unlike everyone else.

But the problem here, is that they brought Peter to a small restaurant that he already goes to frequently enough. A restaurant where the owners know him very well. It was a small Italian restaurant, very lovely place.

“Where is Peter?” Peter heard the voice of Maria, as she burst out of the kitchen.

Tony gave Peter a look, and Peter smiled standing up from his spot and moving over to Maria. Maria gave him a bone crushing hug. Peter hugged her back, knowing he can’t ignore the woman.

“Look at you so tall and handsome, but yet so skinny. Are you not being fed?” She switched into Italian, pinching at his sides. “I tell you to eat more, I give you extra food every time you come here, and yet you’re still skinny.” She tsked. 

“Maria, I promise I eat all the food you give me every time, and I end up in a food coma. May always thinks I’m going to die because you give me too much.” Peter laughed, speaking Italian back to her. 

“And yet you’re still skinny, now sit, sit, I am going to bring you plenty of food and you are going to eat all of it, no arguments, I don’t want to see a single scrap of food left on your plate.” 

Peter laughed as Maria pushed him back into the chair next to Tony. 

“I always listen to you Maria, I don’t know why you tell me to finish all of it when you’re food is so good that there is no other choice to finish it. I can’t let your food go to waste.”

“Suck up.”  Clint coughed.

Maria heard Clint and rewarded him with a smack across the back of the head. She went back into the kitchen calling Clint miscellaneous names.

“So, you know Italian.” Tony started with a smirk.

“Yep.” Peter smiled, hoping he isn’t in much trouble for not sharing his knowledge of languages.

“Interesting, how am I not aware of this?”

“You didn’t ask.” Peter shrugged.

Tony was quite proud of Peter for knowing Italian, his own first language, but it seemed so strange that Peter just wouldn’t mention it. But teenagers.

“That’s it, it’s just because I didn’t ask?” Tony laughed.

Peter nodded. “I don’t really share that. People at school know I speak Spanish, but only MJ and Ned know I speak Italian, though I’m not sure if they’re aware I speak either of them fluently.”

“So you’re tri-lingual?” Steve decided to ask.

“Uh, no.” Peter shook his head.

He started counting on his fingers how many languages he can speak fluently.

“I can speak 10, fluently, 11 if you consider ASL, and I’m in the process of learning a twelfth. I can’t also manage myself through a handful of other languages.”

“That’s not in your file.” Natasha shook her head, proud of her young spider.

“It’s not like I took classes. I just learn them when I can.”

“So you’re eavesdropping on us when we switch languages.” Tony spoke again, unable to comprehend how a 16 year old happens to know so many languages.

“It’s not on purpose. You guys are the Avengers, so you should know to always be aware of what language another person can speak.”

“You’re unbelievable, kid.”

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