#only time I’ve ever had luck this good was when I got two black pearls in one pull

[empyrangel]

I was like “Never gonna get moonlight in time. I’ll have to buy all her soul stones from the shop, what a pain.” ??? I got her from a normal ten pull? Then got Milky Way right after?? tf?

[gleamglowsgraveyard]

How about Sirius finding out the reader has a crush on him...and gives her her first kiss? 😘

cigarettes and firewhisky

pairing: sirius/reader

word count: 2.4k

summary: amortentia is no fun to make when you’re partnered up with the person you know it’s going to end up smelling like.

content: fluff, me being bad at writing slughorn, very brief mention of sirius’s family issues, confessions in an empty classroom, kissing but nothing spicy (edit: rereading this i realized i made the reader pretty gender neutral! no pronouns or anything like that :)

you know i had to pull the amortentia trope. this was a cute request, thank you so much! also thank you to my anons who sent in what they thought sirius smelled like, you guys were a lot of help! (except the person who suggested that sirius smells like wet dog. you know who you are.)

This was the worst thing that could possibly happen to you. Surely some higher power was laughing at you from above, taunting you and your dreadful luck.

Your heart was beating a million miles a minute. How on earth did you end up being paired up with Sirius Black of all people?! And - even worse - making the worst potion ever concocted?!

If you weren’t in public you’re sure you’d be letting out a crazed laugh out of pure mania.

So far you’ve been able to dodge all of his attempts at conversation, quickly sending him off to find another ingredient as soon as he got too chatty. You’d hardly made any eye contact at all, and any time he handed you something you were careful not to have his fingertips even slightly graze your own.

In truth, you’ve had an enormous crush on Sirius Black since third year, and it had only gotten worse as the years went by. This meant that by now, you had become a bit of an expert at avoiding him at all costs.

But now it was all ruined. Years of hard work spiraling down the drain all because of fucking Amortentia.

Why couldn’t it have been a simple calming draught? Or a shrinking solution? Hell, you would’ve even preferred to make Slughorn his lunch!

And it’s not as if you can sabotage the potion, either! That would mean Sirius’s grade suffering too. You just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

There was no way out but to lie about what the potion smells of if he asks. Simple! That way no one finds out - more importantly, that way Sirius doesn’t find out - about your silly little crush. Foolproof. Genius. Inspired-!

“Do you like me?”

“What?!” You jolt as panic overtakes you, snapping your head up to meet Sirius’s eyes.

“Do you like me?” he repeats, smiling slightly. “I can’t help but feel like you hate me, seeing as you haven’t looked at me or talked to me at all.”

Internally, you breathe out a sigh of relief, glad you had misinterpreted the question.

“No! I-” Your voice is much too high, you stop to clear your throat. “I do! I do like you, I um... Sorry! I promise I don’t hate you, I guess I’m just... shy.” You finish your blabbering by looking away, pretending to inspect the fire below your cauldron.

When you raise your gaze again Sirius is still looking at you - observing you as if you’re an interesting puzzle that he can’t quite figure out.

“Um!” you quickly turn your attention to the potion, hoping he does the same. “Nearly done, right? Here.” You hold out the wooden spoon for him to take. “Five more clockwise stirs.”

He looks at the spoon but then folds his hands behind his back. “You do it,” he offers instead.

You purse your lips but nod anyway, bringing the wood up to the cauldron’s opening. The pearlescent liquid shifts under the spoon as it touches the surface, and once it’s fully submerged you take a deep breath and start stirring.

One... Two... Three... Four...

As soon as you finish the fifth stir your nose is assaulted by a suffocating aroma of cigarettes and firewhisky. You quickly step back, coughing and tossing the spoon on the table, but the scent follows you.

That doesn’t smell very appealing! Had you done something wrong? You could have sworn you’d followed the recipe exactly!

But then suddenly the scent changes, rapidly becoming much more welcoming. Cigarettes and firewhisky quickly turns into the undertone to something different... Cinnamon shampoo? But also... cologne, and... You could also catch the faint whiff of a brand new leather jacket.

“I think...” you start, eyes trained on the potion that now has delicate tendrils of steam coming off its surface. “I think we did it.” You laugh a bit in astonishment, proud of the fact that you’d managed to make such an advanced potion.

When you turn your head Sirius is looking at you again, in that infuriating way with his gorgeous eyes and stupid grin. You desperately want to look away but just can’t bring yourself to do so.

“How can you tell?” he asks quietly, and you suddenly feel everything else in the room slip away until it’s just him in front of you.

“I... It-”

“What’s it smell like?”

His low voice puts you in such a trance that for a moment you think you’re about to tell him the truth, but you quickly remember what you’d decided on earlier. Lie.

“Ban-” Bananas? No! “Bal-” Balloons? What would that even mean?! “Bu... bblegum. Bubblegum.” You finally land on, and then give a minuscule wince.

Bubblegum?! Although, you suppose it’s better than balloons...

“Bubblegum?” Sirius repeats, brows furrowed.

“Yep! And is that...? Oh! Firewood!” you continue, pulling lies out of thin air. Sirius’s furrowed brows fade away, and an amused smile starts to form on his features instead.

“And, um... And sun cream! Huh, weird.”

“Bubblegum, firewood, and sun cream?” Sirius lists, as if needing clarification from you.

“Well, I-”

“And look what we have here!” Professor Slughorn’s booming voice is suddenly feet away from the two of you, standing right beside your cauldron. “I do believe we have our first finished brew of Amortentia! Although I can’t say I’m surprised, Mr. Black,” Slughorn beams, giving Sirius a knowing look.

Sirius just shuffles awkwardly.

If Slughorn notices Sirius’s discomfort, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he continues, “You know, your father was an exceptional potion maker. Very talented indeed, and you and your brother seem to be following in his footsteps! Although I must say, young Regulus has been a bit unfocused lately, he-”

“Uh, professor?” you speak up when Sirius flinches at his brother’s name.

Slughorn blinks and then looks at you as if he’s just noticed you were there. “Oh- Yes?”

“So... The potion? Did we do it right?”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course! Full marks!” He waves you off, as if you were being silly for even asking. “And ten points for each of you!” he adds for good measure before strolling off, most likely to go torment some other student with a famous surname.

After that, Sirius doesn’t much seem to be up for talking anymore. He focuses all his attention on cleaning up your station, closing up jars of rose petals and pearl dust. You follow his lead, albeit a bit sluggishly.

A few minutes ago you would’ve been okay with Sirius’s silence - happy, even, if it meant you didn’t have to deal with your little crush. But now you would give anything to have him cheerful and smiling again - even if he looked at you with those annoyingly pretty eyes.

Once class is over you’re quick to duck out of the room, desperately wanting to leave Slughorn and Amortentia and the smell of cigarettes and firewhisky behind you.

It’s all over now, everything went according to plan and you can finally go back to doing what you do best. Secretly pining after Sirius Black from a distance.

It’s safe. It’s what you’re good at.

You’re just about ready to forget about this day entirely when you hear a familiar voice calling your name.

...Maybe you were hearing things.

You speed up your steps but then he calls your name again and you’re forced to slow down, waiting for him to catch up. When he does he gives you another winning smile and your heart does a flip.

“Hey, listen,” he starts, and you listen intently. “Sorry about uh... Just... Thanks.”

You’re a bit taken aback. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a ‘thank you’.

“I... For what?” you ask, genuinely perplexed, but trying not to sound rude.

“Getting Slughorn to leave,” he clarifies with a grin. “He’s always been the same... I’ve been dealing with that for seven years now.”

There’s laughter in his voice but you can tell it’s a bit frayed at the edges. He’s clearly trying - and failing - to play it off as no big deal.

“Sorry,” you offer lamely. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

It really doesn’t.

You don’t know much about Sirius’s family, but you know enough to understand that he probably doesn’t like to be constantly reminded of them. Sharing their last name and seeing his brother in the halls was probably more than enough.

“It’s fine. And, I didn’t just want to thank you,” he says quickly, realizing that the conversation had gotten gloomy.

“Oh?” you voice with a bit of a nervous smile.

“I wanted to ask what it smelled like. The Amortentia.”

There goes your heart again. A million miles a minute.

“What do you mean?” you ask, laughing a bit. “I told you. Bubblegum and um...”

Shoot! What were the other two?!

“Firewood and sun cream?” Sirius prompts, and you nod frantically.

“Yep! That was it!” you’re quick to blurt out. Unconsciously, you pick up your pace, now traveling at a slight speed walk.

Sirius keeps up easily. “But you’re lying,” he accuses, pointing a finger at you, and you swear you start to sweat. “You started coughing when you finished stirring. What did you smell then?”

“I-! Well-! The bubblegum was very pungent, and I-”

“And it looked to me like you were just naming anything that came to your head. Were you about to say balloons at one point?”

“You know, I don’t appreciate being interrogated like this, and quite frankly I- woah!”

You suddenly find that you’re being pulled somewhere by the elbow, and only when you hear a door close behind you do you realize that Sirius has dragged you into an empty classroom. You don’t even have time to take in your surroundings, because Sirius is asking you again:

“So what did you smell?”

You consider lying again, but he’s staring at you with his big, pretty eyes, just waiting for you to tell the truth and all of a sudden you really, really want to.

You thought - you really thought - that you would be content to just go back to crushing on him from a safe distance, but then the Amortentia had happened and he had looked at you different. He was looking at you differently even now - eyes glittering, listening attentively for your answer. And suddenly pining from a distance doesn’t seem so appealing.

You groan in frustration, bringing both of your hands up to cover your face. You just can’t believe what this boy is doing to you.

“It’s so stupid,” you admit, feeling your cheeks head up beneath your palms.

“It’s not,” he assures you, gently wrapping both his hands around each of your wrists, silently asking you to stop covering your face.

You shake you head. “It is, and if you’re asking then you already know.”

“So humor me.”

You abruptly drop your hands to look up at him and, woah - had he always been that close? He’d definitely gotten a bit closer since you’d closed your eyes.

You let out a shaky breath. “Cigarette smoke... Firewhisky...” you trail off. You mean to keep going, but decide to wait for Sirius’s initial reaction first.

Sirius blinks. “Gross,” he says after a beat, and it startles a laugh out of you.

“Yeah, a bit. I thought we messed it up, but then... Um, it changed.”

You search his features for any signs of discomfort, but find none. In fact, Sirius seems to be basking in every word you tell him.

So you keep going, very quietly, “Cologne and...” Without thinking you bring a hand up to rest delicately on his shoulder. “Leather and... Cinnamon...”

You hand moves of it’s own volition, resting on the junction of Sirius’s shoulder and neck and you stare dazedly at it for a moment. You blink and then realize what you’re doing.

You pull your hand away as if you’ve been burned. “Sorry, I-”

But then Sirius is leaning forward fast and - Merlin, was he about to kiss you?!

You panic for a moment, knowing you have to think quick. Your hand darts up again, this time landing on his collarbone, putting your palm flat up against him and pressing firmly, willing him to stop.

He gets the message and quickly pulls back. “I’m sorry-”

“No!” you blurt out so fast that it sounds more like a squeak. “No, no, it’s not that I don’t... I mean I want to, I do I just...” You screw your eyes shut. “I’ve never kissed anyone.”

“Fuck,” Sirius lets out a laugh.

Your heart sinks as you open your eyes. Was he laughing at you?

“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you,” he clarifies quick, as if reading your mind. “For a second I thought the Amortentia was a big coincidence and you didn’t like me at all.” he smiles, and you realize his laugh was a laugh of relief.

“No! I-!” You groan again and lean against the closed door. Was it confession day or something?! “No, I’ve... I’ve liked you since third year.”

“What about first and second?” he fires back quick, grinning stupidly.

You don’t miss a beat. “I was scared of you, then. You were too loud.”

He barks out a laugh and you suddenly feel the urge to look away, feeling as if you’re intruding. And then you remember you’re not. It’s just you and Sirius here. So many times you’d seen that laugh from a distance, across a crowded Great Hall but now it was just for you.

Sirius speaks up once his laughter dies down. “Look, you don’t have to-”

“No, I want to-”

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable-”

“You haven’t! I just-”

“We can just go to class-”

“Sirius!” you say sharply, and he looks at you with wide eyes. “Kiss me. Please,” you say with a laugh, wanting him to shut up already.

He grins and then wastes no time in leaning forward, taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours. You smell it again - cinnamon shampoo, cologne, new leather, and - very faintly - cigarettes and firewhisky.

You melt into the kiss, bringing you hands up to rest at the nape of his neck, idly playing with the strands of hair you find. It’s awkward at first, but you try your best to relax into it, following Sirius’s lead and just doing whatever comes naturally.

He pulls away and you slowly blink your eyes back open, willing yourself out of the trance Sirius’s lips had just put you in.

“Fast learner,” he whispers, smiling, and you laugh.

“We should get to class...” you suggest halfheartedly, not stepping away or making any move to leave.

“Yeah,” Sirius agrees, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Probably...”

You both look at each other for a few beats, but then you each break into a smile.

And he kisses you again.

.

.

.

taglist <3 // @isxfisticated @l-adysansa @tomshollandz

[ur-favorite-queer-queen]

Second Chance

For Maribat March day 12 theme second chance

Master List

Sometimes Marinette really wished Penny and Jagged hadn’t adopted her. It’s not that she didn’t want to be a Rolling-Stone, no that wasn’t it. In fact, she was grateful that they had saved her from the horrors that Paris now held for her. It’s just they dragged her to stuff like this, some rich man’s gala. 

She had slept for a full 12 hours after finishing Penny’s dress, only to wake up to the news she was coming with them. She probably should’ve seen it coming. Although she was hoping this would be one of the lucky cases where she didn’t have to go. Despite her protests they insisted she needed to interact with other humans who weren’t serving her coffee. In Jagged’s words, “Who knows, you might make a rock n roll friend!” 

Now here she was, in her black and purple dress that matched Penny’s and Jagged’s outfits. Letting a bit of her anxiety out as she fiddled with the strap of her matching purse. Watching her parents mingle with the rich folk while she stood off to the side. Every once in a while they would cast her a ‘go make a friend’ look but it never bothered her, she just needed to wait until they stopped turning to look back at her.  

After about 10 minutes they stopped, perfect. She casually asked a waiter where the bathroom was and made her way there. Once inside she slipped off the pearl anklet that was Daizzi’s miraculous, letting the kwami make her way into her purse, before pulling out a familiar nose ring. Now that Jagged and Penny were letting her do her own thing, she could go back to scaring people into not socializing with her. While she would’ve loved to keep Daizzi’s miraculous on so that it could combat Stompp’s miraculous side effects, she learned that it took too much energy to do so. And she didn’t want to explain why she was so tired after the gala if she wasn’t talking to anyone. 

She schooled her features before making her way back out sending a cold look to anyone who tried to come up to her. She pulled out her phone only to see that 2 hours had passed, she still had 4 more to go. Time was moving much too slowly for her liking. 

A clearing of the throat brought her out of her thoughts. She rolled her eyes, putting her phone back in her purse, getting ready to glare at the person who was going to try to talk to her, only to stare in shock at the green eyes that were watching her. The same ones that had bumped into her just days before. The same ones she had sworn she probably wouldn’t ever see again. 

Her mouth moved without her permission, again she blames Stompp, “You.” 

He smiled or maybe it was a smirk, responding with way too much amusement, “Me.” 

She once again schooled her features to look bored, but she’s pretty sure her eyes gave her away with the way he reacted, “What are you doing here?” 

Just like before it took him a moment to reply, his smirk growing just the tiniest bit, “I’m always invited to these things, I’ve never seen you before though.” 

“With any luck this will be the last time you see me.” She remarked. She didn’t mean to be so rude again she blames Stompp but she really hadn’t expected to see him. To his credit he didn’t seem deterred by her cold vibe, if anything he seemed more determined. 

“Why would you say that?” 

“These types of things,” She waved her hand around, motioning to the room, “Just aren’t my thing. My parents make it look so easy, but I’ve never been one for this kind of scene. Plus I leave Gotham in a few days.” 

“Desperate to get out here?” 

“You could say that.” 

“Who are your parents?” 

She raised an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” If this was the game he wanted to play she would play it. Trying to find out who she was by asking about her parents, real subtle. Well Mr. Hot shot, she’s letting Stompp take the wheel now.

“You know, you make trying to have a conversation pretty hard.” 

She rolled her eyes at him, not even trying to stop them from rolling, “Who says I wanted this conversation?” It was a rhetorical question. She turned to leave only for him to grab her wrist. 

Suddenly she was brought back to that night. The night that changed everything. Three pieces of jewelry in her hand, two brooches one ring, her earrings 2 beeps away from her transformation leaving her. 

A pale hand holding her wrist, keeping her from running away. Green eyes and blond hair belonged to the owner of the hand. 

It had happened too fast. One second she was getting ready to run and detransform. Then someone had stopped her, she turned around to meet hungry green eyes. She froze as she felt lips pressed onto her own. It was only the beeping of her earring that brought her back to reality. A knee to the groin, and she pushed him off of her. Letting the police deal with the trio as she fled. 

She turned to the owner of the tan hand that was holding her back and could only register green eyes. She wouldn’t stand still this time. She twisted her hand so that he was forced to let go. A knee to the stomach had him holding his gut and as she raised her arm ready to punch him was when she finally registered that this wasn’t Adrien. It was just some weird stranger who was persistent in getting past her walls. 

She could hear people talking around her and when she dared to glance around they were all staring. She forced the embarrassed blush that wanted to grace her cheeks down, she wasn’t 13 anymore, she was 16 god damnit! Locking eyes with the mysterious yet persistent guy again, she ran. Ran until she found herself on a balcony, the cold air brushing her face as she gripped the railing. 

Why did she react like that? Why did she always have to be so aggressive? Why couldn’t she just let go of the past and take this damn nose ring off so she didn’t have to go and do stupid shit like this?  Why couldn’t she just be normal and let people in? 

Oh yeah, because she had a bunch of shitty friends that all turned on her because of a liar. The same liar turned her already neglectful parents against her. So Jagged and Penny got custody of her in order to get her out. Her parents didn’t even put up a fight about it, too busy gushing about precious LILA! And now she has major trust issues despite wanting to open and trust people again. Man, she is a wreck. 

“Hey, are you out here?” The mystery guy spoke from the entrance of the balcony. 

“No, I’m not.” She didn’t see the point in not acknowledging him, he could probably see her from where he was standing. 

“I’m sorry about earlier, you were obviously uncomfortable and I pushed your limit. So I really am sorry.” He apologized. 

“Yeah, sorry about kneeing you in the stomach. I thought…” She cut herself off, she didn’t need to pour her whole life story out to a stranger. He probably didn’t even want to know either. 

“It’s okay, I deserved it.” He made his way to the railing, he was a good distance away that she still had her own space, but close enough they could still talk. She relaxed a little thanks to the distance, resting her elbows on the railing. He leaned his back against the railing. They stood there in silence and Marinette decided she wouldn’t mind seeing this mystery boy again. Wait she didn’t even know his name. 

It seemed like he had the same thought since he spoke up, “I don’t think we ever introduced ourselves.” 

“We didn’t.” Damn her being so cold, she should probably take this nose ring off. So that’s what she did, took the nose ring off and placed it in her purse. Maybe this would be good for her. 

“Well, I’m Damian Wayne.” He stated, holding his hand out to shake. 

“Wait, Wayne as in Bruce Wayne? As in the Ice Prince of Gotham?” She questioned, shocked. 

“Oh, so you’ve heard.” He seemed a bit disappointed. 

“Yeah, but I won’t judge if you don’t judge.”

He raised an eyebrow at that before she continued, “My name is Marinette Rolling-Stone.” Now he looked surprised. 

“You're the elusive Diamond Stone?” He asked, disbelief made its way into his voice. 

“That’s what they’re calling me now. At first it was Sapphire Stone. Guess that’s what happens when I stay out of the media too long.” She chuckled a small smile making its way onto her face. 

“Wait, where did your nose ring go?” He looked around as if expecting it to magically appear. 

“I took it off.” 

“Why?” 

“Well at first I wore it to scare people off. People are scared of people that have piercings. I was thinking of getting a tattoo but I’m too young and they’re too permanent.” 

“Why would you want to scare people off?” 

“I have a complicated past. Sometimes putting your trust in someone takes too much risk, I tried to avoid it altogether.” She pulled her sketchbook as she wrote something down.

“Tried?” 

“Why do you think I’m talking to you?” She tore the paper out.

“You're putting your trust in me?” 

“No.” She quickly answered, “But maybe one day.” She handed him the paper and left. 

As she walked away she released a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. Maybe giving people a second chance wouldn’t be such a bad thing. But right now she just needed to find her parents so she could head home. 

-

Damian hated galas. He hated having to talk to the stuck-up rich folk who thought they were better than everyone just because of their wealth. The girls who would try and flirt with him in order to gain his last name. And their parents who tried to push them together. 

Yes, he definitely hated galas. What made this worse was that his family wouldn’t stop teasing him about the girl who he knocked over that one time. Threatening bodily harm did nothing but amp up the teasing. It was times like this where he truly wished there was a not a no kill rule. If only to give Jason Todd some revenge. 

2 hours into the gala and he was already done. 4 girls had already tried to drape themselves over him and it took all his self-control not to hurt them. He was ready to storm out of this gala when he caught sight of her. 

The mystery girl he had bumped into days before. She was here, at a Wayne gala. Her outfit certainly looked the part of a rich socialite, She wore a long halter dress that flared out at the waist. It started out black at her neck before turning purple at the waist. The bottom of the dress had black music notes dancing across and she had a matching black and purple purse hanging off her shoulder. 

Her hair was down and she seemed to be wearing a little bit of makeup. The only reason he was able to tell it was her was because of the black nose ring that stood out against her fancy look. It looked so out of place compared to everything else. 

He watched as a man tried to approach her only to receive the same glare he had gotten days before, quickly moving on to someone else. Seems like he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to be here. 

He made his way over to her, perhaps to give himself a second chance at a new impression. She proceeded to pull out her phone and look at something before deflating the tiniest bit. 

He cleared his throat to grab her attention, she looked at him with the same glare once again before her eyes took on a look of shock. 

“You.” She seemed surprised that she had stated this as well. 

He couldn’t help the smirk that spread on his face, she remembered him and still had the same spunky attitude, “Me.” 

Her features took on a look of boredom, but her eyes looked only curious yet cautious, “What are you doing here?” 

The fact that she didn’t recognize him as a Wayne was surprising. He thought that she was only in a hurry before that’s why she didn’t register it was him, but now he knew she truly didn’t know it was him. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage. “I’m always invited to these things, I’ve never seen you before though.” 

“With any luck this will be the last time you see me.” She said it with such confidence he felt inclined to believe. It was strange. He seemed to be the last person she wanted to talk to and yet he still wanted to talk to her. He didn’t want her to leave. So the next best thing is to get answers.

“Why would you say that?” 

“These types of things,” She waved her hand around to motion to the room, “Just aren’t my thing. My parents make it look so easy, but I’ve never been one for this kind of scene. Plus I leave Gotham in a few days.” 

Well that sucked for him. “Desperate to get out here?” 

“You could say that.” 

“Who are your parents?” Maybe he could try to get his father to arrange a meeting with them.

She raised an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Nevermind. 

“You know, you make trying to have a conversation pretty hard.” He didn’t mean to say that, that was rude. 

She rolled her eyes at him, it looked like he was meant to see that, “Who says I wanted this conversation?” She turned to leave, but he grabbed her wrist. He didn’t want her to go just yet. He felt her freeze then tense when he touched her, her breathing became a little more forced, and she seemed to shake a little. 

Suddenly she twisted out of his grip and kneed him in the stomach. She raised her arm and looked ready to punch him. Her eyes looked far and distant and afraid. They seemed to refocus on him as she dropped her arm and glanced around the room. Of course, people were talking about them.

She locked eyes with him once more before running. He ran after her before his path was blocked off by Dick Grayson. “Damian what-” He didn’t get to finish that question as he dashed passed him, determined not to lose the one girl who wasn’t a stuck up brat. 

He thought he had lost her but then he heard someone taking deep breaths from out on one of the balconies. He was about to go up to her, but from the way she reacted to his sudden hold on her arm earlier, it was probably best to give a warning. “Hey are you out here?” 

He walked out onto the balcony. “No, I’m not.” She likely didn’t want to talk to him. 

“I’m sorry about earlier, you were obviously uncomfortable and I pushed your limit. So I really am sorry.” He apologized. Which was so unlike him because here Damian Wayne was apologizing to a stranger. The weird things she made him do. 

“Yeah, sorry about kneeing you in the stomach. I thought…” She cut herself off, it looked like she wanted to say more but wasn’t going to. 

“It’s okay, I deserved it.” He walked over to the railing, making sure he was a good distance away that she had her own space, but close enough so they could still talk. She seemed to relax a little thanks to the distance, resting her elbows on the railing. He leaned his back against the railing. He quite liked the silence, her company was nice. Oh god he didn’t even know her name.

“I don’t think we ever introduced ourselves.” 

“We didn’t.” She stated in what he was pretty sure was a cold tone. Maybe she wanted to stay mysterious, so he would just introduce himself. 

“Well, I’m Damian Wayne.” He held his hand out to shake. 

“Wait, Wayne as in Bruce Wayne? As in the Ice Prince of Gotham?” So she recognizes the name, not the face. Great.

“Oh, so you’ve heard.” 

“Yeah, but I won’t judge if you don’t judge.” Why would he judge her?

He raised an eyebrow at her before she continued, “My name is Marinette Rolling-Stone.” 

“You're the elusive Diamond Stone?” He asked, disbelief accidentally made its way into his voice. He couldn’t help it. She was claiming to be the adoptive daughter of famous Jagged and Penny Rolling-Stone. The girl that made Jagged’s stage outfits from scratch and managed to get the ferocious Fang, Jagged’s pet crocodile, to love her. The media could only ever get a hold of the back of her head, but those that had talked with her said she shined as bright as a diamond. Hence the nickname, Diamond Stone.

“That’s what they’re calling me now. At first it was Sapphire Stone. Guess that’s what happens when I stay out of the media too long.” She chuckled, a small smile had made its way onto her face. Sapphire Stone, he hadn’t heard of that nickname but he could always do some stalking research. That’s when he noticed. 

“Wait, where did your nose ring go?” He looked around trying to see if it had fallen off her face and she hadn’t noticed.

“I took it off.” 

“Why?” He was truly baffled. 

“Well at first I wore it to scare people off. People are scared of people that have piercings. I was thinking of getting a tattoo but I’m too young and they’re too permanent.” 

“Why would you want to scare people off?” That seems like something he would do.

“I have a complicated past. Sometimes putting your trust in someone takes too much risk, I tried to avoid it altogether.” She pulled out what looked like a sketchbook as she wrote something down. Wait what did she mean by ‘complicated past.’

“Tried?” 

“Why do you think I’m talking to you?” She tore the paper out of the sketchbook.

“You're putting your trust in me?” He asked, she didn’t seem like the type to trust people quickly.

“No.” She quickly answered, he thought so, “But maybe one day.” She handed him the paper and left. As he looked down at it he saw it was her number. There was a message attached below ‘My number. Maybe we can meet up somewhere before I leave.’ He certainly wanted to take that opportunity. 

He tucked the paper into his pocket and made his way back to the gala only to be met with his annoying family. By the curious look in their eyes they wanted to know what just happened. This was not going to be fun to explain. 

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

Hi, I have not disappeared, just didn’t want to write for prompts 8-11. I was honestly going to do prompt 8 but then stuff came up and I didn’t have the time to write. I was also planning to write something for tomorrow’s prompt but then I found out I have something I need to do tomorrow so nothing for tomorrow either. Because I had a specific thing I wanted to write for tomorrow I’m changing it to fit day 14′s prompt. Which means it’s not going to be mega angsty like I originally thought was gonna be 14. You have escaped mega angst and now it will only be medium angst. 

On another note that was a bitch to write and edit. And the fact I had originally planned to write more for it baffles me. I feel like I left it kind of open ended so if you want a part 3 to what I have going on here go ahead and tell me. I’m still trying to decide if I should do a part 3 yet. For those who are confused today was a part 2 to day 6′s prompt, miraculous side effects. Go to my master list and you can find it. 

You can also see on my master list that there are days that are crossed off, which means I won’t be doing those days. I can’t do every single day if I want to still get decent grades. Why I skipped days 8-11. Sorry for that long explanation/rant. Also sorry for posting so late again. I do these things all the way to the last minute. Let’s see if I can break that habit throughout the month. Probably not but a girl can hope. Anyways hope you enjoyed. 

@maribatmarch-2k21 @birdiesthings @buginetye 

[mostlymovieswithmax]

Movies I watched in March

Thought I’d chronicle the films I’ve been watching over the March period, from the 1st to the 31st, and how I’d rate them. If you’re looking for something to watch, perhaps this will help. A lot of these movies are available on streaming services also.

The Wolf of Wall Street (2013) - 10/10

I hadn’t watched this in a couple of years but I was blown away. Peak Scorsese.

Rushmore (1998) - 7/10

Not the best Wes Anderson movie for me but still fun.

Lion (2016) - 8/10

I discussed this at length on my podcast: The Sunday Movie Marathon. Great movie!

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - 10/10

Now this is one of the best Wes Anderson movies. I discuss this more on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Fantastic, funny and I watched it twice because it’s so much fun.

Inception (2010) - 10/10

Discussed on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Best Christopher Nolan movie for me, Inception is just breathtaking.

The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou (2004) - 5/10

This might be Anderson’s weakest film (at least from what I’ve seen) but it’s still not as bad as a lot of directors at their worst.

The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) - 10/10

I was really on an Anderson binge in March. The Royal Tenenbaums is one of the most wholesome movies I’ve seen and certainly one of his best films.

Rome, Open City (1945) - 4/10

This was filmed in Nazi-occupied Italy and from that premise, the film enticed me. Despite having some interesting qualities, I do feel that initial pull is most of what the movie has going for it.

The Prestige (2006) - 7/10

I showed this to my brother and for what it’s worth, he enjoyed it. I do think this is one of Nolan’s weaker efforts but considering how much I like it, that speaks a lot to Nolan’s filmography as a whole.

Nostalgia (1983) - 10/10

I watched Nostalgia three times in the space of a week and reviewed it on The Sunday Movie Marathon. It’s phenomenal.

Kangaroo Jack (2003) - 1/10

Another one I watched for the podcast. Kangaroo Jack is truly terrible and it upset me a great deal. Avoid this movie.

Stalker (1979) - 10/10

Another Andrei Tarkovsky movie (director of Nostalgia). I watched this again during the day before my second watch of Nostalgia and while it’s hard to compare such different movies, I enjoy Stalker more. It’s a staple of Russian cinema for a reason.

Four Lions (2010) - 5/10

Watched for the podcast. I didn’t really gel with this comedy but it would certainly appeal to someone who enjoys the humour, as my co-hosts did.

Revolutionary Road (2008) - 6/10

This Sam Mendes joint was a tad too melodramatic but still boasted some great performances from Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet.

Metropolis (1927) - 6/10

This silent film is a staple in cinematic history. Its themes are as painfully relevant today as they were in the 20’s, yet despite that I found a lot of it to be intensely boring. After it hit the hour mark, I started playing it at 1.5x speed.

Crimson Peak (2015) - 4/10

A lot of great set design and costumes and colours, yet the story itself was madly uninteresting.

Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind (2004) - 10/10

Who doesn’t love a good movie written by Charlie Kaufman? I reviewed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon and after a third watch, it is as fascinating as it is gut-wrenching.

Godzilla (2014) - 3/10

If you wanted to see Godzilla fight a bunch of monsters for two hours, then this is not the movie for you. There’s maybe about ten minutes total of on-screen Godzilla action and considering that’s really all anyone’s watching this for, it’s amazing the titular sea lizard occupies so little of the movie.

Prisoners (2013) - 10/10

Brilliant mystery thriller by my favourite director, Denis Villeneuve. Discussed on the podcast.

Eraserhead (1977) - 7/10

David Lynch’s debut feature film went down in my estimations this time around. You can listen to why on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Still, Eraserhead is a very good movie.

Raiders of The Lost Ark (1981) - 6/10

The first Indiana Jones movie proved to be a fun romp and Harrison Ford plays the character beautifully. I’m just not a big fan of Spielberg and his average verging on pretty good but rarely ever great movies. Perhaps on a second watch, I may enjoy this more.

The Seventh Seal (1957) - 9/10

Watching this movie again was so much fun. So far, it’s my favourite Ingmar Bergman film. It’s a celebration of life and love, with an underlying sense of dread as death looms ever-present.

Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom (1984) - 5/10

I can tell why this generally looked on as the weakest in the trilogy. Harrison Ford is still great but the movie dragged a lot and felt more like a bunch of things happening for the sake of it rather than a fun action/adventure.

Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade (1989) - 7/10

The Last Crusade was a lot of fun and maybe it was Sean Connery’s inclusion, or perhaps the bottle of wine I drank through the movie elevated my enjoyment. But alcohol aside, I still believe this to be the best in the series.

Justice League (2017) - 2/10

People really weren’t kidding when they said this was bad. I watched this in preparation for the Snyder cut and I was not happy. This took years off my life.

Zack Snyder’s Justice League (2021) - 3/10

Barely any better and double the run-time of the original. I discussed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon and I was certainly not impressed. Better luck next time, Zack!

The Truman Show (1998) - 10/10

Brilliant movie and one I would highly recommend for a stellar Jim Carrey performance. This was another recommendation for the podcast.

Eighth Grade (2018) - 7/10

I was impressed with Bo Burnham’s debut feature. This is a coming of age story centred around a young girl growing up in the modern world and how it can affect the youth of today. Burnham shows a deep understanding of youth culture and a real knack for filmmaking.

Bad Education (2019) - 8/10

A real “yikes!” movie. If you want to learn a bit about the embezzlement that took place in an American school back in the early 2000’s, you need not look further than this tight drama with fantastic performances from Hugh Jackman and Allison Janney.

Twelve Monkeys (1995) - 8/10

One of the only movies where the time travel makes sense. I recommended this for The Sunday Movie Marathon and it’s pretty great.

Ready Or Not (2019) - 7/10

Despite a premise that is not wholly original and a super goofy third act, Ready Or Not is gory, violent fun with a lot of stylish art direction.

Dead Man (1995) - 3/10

Recommended on the podcast. I really did not get a lot out of Dead Man. It’s a very slow movie about Johnny Depp going through the woods and killing some people on the way, but it’s two hours long and hugely metaphorical and sadly it just didn’t connect.

Misbehaviour (2020) - 6/10

A big draw for me in Misbehaviour is Keira Knightley; I think she’s a great actor and I’m basically on board with anything she does. I’d been wanting to see this for a while and I was shocked to see just how relevant it is (being set in 1970) to the world we find ourselves in today, where women are still fighting to be heard and to be treated equally. While the film is not spectacular, I still got a lot from its themes, so recently after the murder of Sarah Everard and how women are being treated in their protest.

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love The Bomb (1964) - 7/10

I was surprised at just how hilarious this early Kubrick movie is. While I can’t say it floored me or took any top spots, it’s still a great examination of the military and how they respond to threats or try to solve problems and the side of war we don’t often see in films: the people in the background sitting in a room making crucial decisions.

Taxi Driver (1976) - 10/10

Wow! I can’t believe I’d never seen this before but I’d never really had access to it. Taxi Driver is a beautifully made movie with so much colour and vibrancy. De Niro puts on perhaps his best performance and Paul Schrader’s timeless script works miracles.

Sleepy Hollow (1999) - 5/10

Classic Tim Burton aesthetics in a pretty by the numbers, almost Supernatural-esque story eked out over an hour and forty minutes.

Seaspiracy (2021) - 6/10

Everyone’s going crazy over this documentary and I agree it tackles important issues we’re facing today surrounding the commercialization of the fishing industry, but a lot of what’s presented here is information already available to the public. The editing feels misplaced at times and the tone is all over the place. Nonetheless, it’s still quite fascinating to see good journalism being done in a way that exposes this side of the industry.

Pirates of The Carribean: The Curse of The Black Pearl (2003) - 8/10

Super fun and a great first instalment in a franchise that sadly seems to have peaked at the first hurdle.

My Octopus Teacher (2020) - 8/10

Great cinematography and a lovely premise, this documentary has garnered an Oscar nomination and I can see why.

The Sisters Brothers (2018) - 8/10

A really solid western I was happy to watch again. It’s a shame no one really talks about this movie because it is excellent with stunning visuals and great performances.

Pirates of The Carribean: Dead Man’s Chest (2006) - 5/10

A strangely massive drop in quality from the original. If I didn’t like the whole concept of this franchise so much, I might have had a worse time.

Reservoir Dogs (1992) - 8/10

On a second watch, Tarantino’s first feature is still wildly impressive.

Life of Brian (1979) - 7/10

This is perhaps my third time watching Monty Python’s Life of Brian and it’s still incredibly funny, however it never manages to measure up to its predecessor (and one of my all time favourites), Monty Python and The Holy Grail.

[thiswasinevitableid]

For mermay I would love to see some Danbrey for 24 (lighthouse)!

Here you go! I went with SFW for this one

“You excited honeysuckle?” Her father sets her sleeping bag out on the floor.

“Yes” Dani manges her bravest smile. She’s never slept anywhere but their little house on the cliffs, and the lighthouse, with its echoing stairs and lack of true darkness, is the opposite of that.

“It’ll be fun. Like a camp out. I can even make s’mores over the stove.”

“Okay.” She sets her backpack on the floor, then follows him to the kitchen. At nine, she can already tell when her parents are doing their best, can spot the way her father carries himself when he’s tired but trying not to show it.

He makes them dinner, canned chili with goldfish crackers, and gives her a little tour. When it’s time for bed, he tucks her in, handing her the Totoro plush she sleeps with.

“When is mom coming back?”

Her father sighs, “Two weeks, assuming your grandma gets better at the speed they’re expecting. Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’ll recover even faster than that.”

Dani nods. Her teacher expressed surprise that Dani was staying here and not taking the trip with her mom. The given reason was the gated community didn’t allow children to stay that long. But Dani knows the truth; her grandparents don’t like her dad. And because Dani is the result of her mom loving and staying with her dad, they don’t like her, either.

He kisses her forehead, makes her promise for the bajillionth time that she won’t go in the water, and tells her goodnight.

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

She’s looking for seashells when it happens. Living by the sea means she knows not to turn her back on it. Too bad the wave hits her from the side, carried up and over the nearby rock and knocking her into the surf. She scrambles up, spluttering, touches her neck, and feels like she’s going to throw up. Her bracelet, the one mom gave her for luck, is gone.

“Oh no, oh no, where are you, oh no”

“Um, are you looking for this?” A girl watches her from the surf, bracelet dangling from her hand.

“Ohmygosh” She snatches the jewelry away, holding it to her chest, “thank you. It’s from my mom and, uh, and I try to be careful but it’s hard sometimes.”

“I get that.” The girl holds up a necklace, “this is from my mom. It’s like one she wears; she says I can have the real one when I’m older. Can I come on the beach?”

Dani nods, then gasps as the girl joins her. She’s seen mermaids in books or that pirate movie her mom watches sometimes. But they’re always grown ups with long hair, pale skin, and green tails. This mermaid is the same age as Dani, her dark skin dotted with freckles and her black held in place with pieces of coral. Her tail is shimmering red and black, the prettiest thing Dani’s ever seen.

“You’re a mermaid.” Dani says, because she can’t think of what else to say.

“Yeah. And you’re a human. Why are you here? It’s usually just that guy.”

“That’s my dad. I’m staying with him.”

“Do you wanna hang out?”

“Yes! Wait, how’s that going to work? I’m not allowed to swim around the lighthouse.”

“I’m allowed to be on the beach, so we’re good.”

“Okay” Dani grins, excited, before her dad’s voice carries down the beach, calling her to come in, “shoot, I have to go.”

“Okay, byyyyyeee!” The mermaid waves as Dani hurries up the sand, and is gone when she turns around for a final look.

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

“Got any tens?”

“Go fish.”

Aubrey draws another card, “I still think it’s weird that you don’t really fish during this game.”

“You’re just grumpy you’re losing.” Dani teases. Aubrey sticks her tongue out. Dani responds in kind.

“When your dad finally lets you swim, we’re gonna play it my way and I’ll kick your tail. Legs?”

“Butt.”

Aubrey snickers, wiggles closer on the warm sand. They’ve found a patch of beach that isn’t immediately visible from land or sea, meaning Aubrey isn’t in danger of being seen and Dani isn’t breaking her promise to her dad to stay out of the water.

“If you come to the beach near my house, I can swim there. But I’m still not allowed to swim alone. I could drown.”

The mermaid purses her lips, “I wouldn’t let you drown.

“I don’t think my mom would believe me if I said I had a mermaid helping me.”

“Man, why can’t humans just have tails? Or, like, fins.”

“I think then we’d just be mermaids. Don’t worry; I’ll get to swim on my own when I’m older and we can play in the water then.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

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

“FINALLY!” Aubrey raises her arms triumphantly as Dani wades into the surf. It took four years and passing a survival swimming course for her parents to be okay with her swimming alone. The smile on Aubrey’s face makes the weeks pretending to swim in a riptide worth it.

“Do you wanna race? Ooh, or I could show you the ray nest, or we could go look for otters-”

“Let’s start with a race. I’ve been waiting years to kick your tail.”

The mermaid’s smile takes on a competitive edge, “last one to that rock is a rotten urchin!”

With that, she splashes Dani with her tail and zooms through the water. Dani dives forward after her, but even with her newfound swimming skills she makes it to the rock a good ten seconds after her friend.

“Best two out of three?” She says the moment she comes up for air.

“You’re on.”

Best two out of three becomes best out of ten, and on number ten Dani plays dirty, throwing her arms around Aubrey’s waist when she manages to catch her. Her friend shrieks with laughter, spinning and chasing Dani towards shore. The human slips and Aubrey tackles her, sand clinging to both of them as they roll onto their sides, cackling into the salt air.

They stay on the sand until it gets dark, counting stars and holding hands until Dani has to go home.

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

Dani’s trying not to panic; it’s not the first time Aubrey’s missed meeting her. Sometimes the mermaid gets called away for lessons or has last minute things to take care of, and they haven’t figured out a way to get messages between underwater and above it (they tried a supposedly waterproof cellphone but it only lasted an hour). But it’s been three days without a single sign of her friend.

As she’s contemplating getting the boat her dad uses for fishing on his days off and going further out to look for her, Aubrey surfaces. Even before they reach each other, it’s obvious Aubrey’s been crying.

Dani kneels in the soaked sand, opening her arms, and Aubrey burrows into them, salt water of two kinds dripping onto Dani’s jacket.

“Aubrey?”

Her friend hides her face against her neck, “Mom’s gone. There, there was an accident and she, she didn’t-” it cuts off in a sob.

Dani holds her tighter, strokes her hair, murmurs, “I’m so sorry” as Aubrey shakes in her arms. The wind whips around them, stinging her cheeks, chilling her fingers. She doesn’t care. Aubrey needs her.

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

“Ta-dah!” Aubrey produces a massive clam with a flourish, narrowly avoiding sending water onto the slices of cake Dani smuggled down to the beach.

“Aw, thanks Aubrey, you didn’t have to--holy crap!” She gawps as Aubrey opens the clam, revealing a pearl necklace.

“Like it? It took me, like, a year to get them all. Had to fight a few otters for some of the oysters.”

“Uh-”

“Kidding!” Aubrey flops her head into Dani’s lap, “I’d never bug the otters; Dr. Harris Bonkers would never forgive me for bothering his friends.”

Dani clasps the necklace in place, rests a hand on Aubrey’s tail. She traces figure eights on it, smiling when her friend sighs and nuzzles her stomach.

“You’re the best, Aubrey.”

“Thanks. I, um, I just wanted you to have something to remember me by.”

Her heart turns to an iceberg, “You’re leaving?”

“What? No!” Aubrey sits up, bringing them face to face, “you’re eighteen now. That’s when humans leave home.”

Dani giggles, “Not automatically. I haven’t made up my mind if I want to leave Kepler or not. I might just stay in town; I like it here, and Mama offered me a job manning the community gardens.”

Aubrey’s tail flutters, “Um, I have another point in the stay category.”

“Yeah? Oh” Dani sighs as Aubrey cups her cheek and guides her into a kiss. When Dani deepens it, Aubrey trills, shifting so she’s in Dani’s lap and draping her arms over her shoulders.

“Well?” Aubrey whispers, brushing their noses together.

“Definitely a convincing point, cutie pie.”

Aubrey trills again, knocking her backwards and kissing her senseless in the sand.

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

Much of Kepler is surprised when, upon his retirement, the lighthouse keeper announces his daughter will be taking his place. After all, why would a charming young woman want such a job?

The charming young woman isn't particularly interested in their speculation. If she took the job in order to be closer to her wife well, that's her business, now isn't it?

[ficsilike-reblogged]

What’s in a Name?

A/N: This is quite possibly the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever written in my entire life. But it’s soft. Because Marcus Pike is soft and deserves all the love. Granted, I’ve only watched The Mentalist all the way through once, so...do with that what you will. 

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader (no y/n)

Rating: PG for mention of guns??? I just want to be on the safe side. Idiots in love. Falling in love with someone and not knowing their name. Cliche use of a Quote from Romeo + Juliet.

Word Count: 3.3k 

Summary: The five times Marcus Pike tries to learn your name and the one time he actually does.

Pike was unlucky in love. He knew it. He had started to accept it when things fell apart with Lisbon. His friends and fellow agents, the assholes, actually took pity on him and said he’d find the right person eventually. He just didn’t anticipate having to meet her over and over again.

... that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet... (Romeo + Juliet)

Sometimes, every once in a while, he actually hated his job. Sure, he got to go undercover, stop criminals, right some wrongs, and be called ‘agent’ on top of it. But, right now, listening to some sycophant rant and rave about the “superiority of Cubism over Dadaism,” he wanted to switch careers. There was supposed to be a sale of a stolen Cézanne happening at this gallery in Los Angeles and Pike had suspected the guy with the too-tight three piece suit and bad transatlantic accent was the ring-leader of the whole theft and re-sale. He just needed to not spork his eyes out until he saw money pass hands from the agent he’d sent in to pose as the buyer and the thief-turned-art-asshole. He thought it would only take an hour or two, busts like this usually did—but this guy loved the sound of his own voice so much that he had been going on a tangent about 20th century art movements for nearly four hours now and had somehow gathered a bit of an audience, too, debating with others, and the like. It was exhausting just listening to him.

“If you give me ten dollars, I’ll spill some red wine on his shirt and he’ll be forced to leave.”

Marcus looked to the left at the sudden voice and found a woman pretending to look at the piece in front of him, just like he had been doing. She was pretty, dressed in a high-end dress and sky-high, red-bottom heels, and looked every bit the part of an old money socialite. “Ten dollars?”

“I’d do it for free, but I need to receive some sort of incentive so I’m not just doing it out of spite. I heard that’s bad karma.” She hid her smirk behind the lip of her champagne flute.

“I’ve heard spite is a fantastic motivator.”

She hummed and squinted at the painting as if she cared. Maybe she did. “This is an awful piece of work. Truly, one of the worst I’ve ever seen.”

The man behind them continued to talk just as a waiter passed by with a platter full of red wine and she skillfully plucked one from him without missing a beat. She finished her champagne and handed Pike her empty flute. His eyebrows raised as she smiled at him.

“I’m Marcus.” He held out a hand for her to take. She shook it with a smile but didn’t give her name in return. She winked and walked away—right toward the mark.

And yes, she dumped red wine all over him.

There was a collective gasp and he watched the scene with a muted sort of fascination as she then managed to make the art thief smile with some joke she must have said and then he walked away to clean up. The crowd dispersed. The other agent was able to snag the thief and make the exchange and handcuffs were placed on his wrists all within a couple of minutes.  

Maybe he should have actually paid her the ten dollars. She really did just speed everything up.

But, when he looked around to find her, she was gone. 

                                                            **

The second time he met her was at an art auction in D.C. There was no sting. No operation. The Art Squad had recently helped the auction’s sponsor recover a priceless Van Gogh piece and they had insisted the entire Squad come to the black tie dinner and auction, foregoing the 1000-dollar-charge-per-plate the ticket usually cost. The food was good. The wine and champagne was obviously expensive and Pike was sure he’d see some of the art that was being auctioned off in his case files in the next few years. That was just the way of the world. He looked around at the displays and glanced at the sheets where people had written down their bids. Some people were being generous—most others were being cheap. 

He slowed to a stop in front of a small Dalí and then down at the auction sheet. It was currently up to only a few hundred dollars. He wouldn’t win, he was sure, but he could pretend to participate in this ridiculous auction.

“I didn’t take you for a Dalí fan.” Her voice was still smooth and he knew, instinctively, that she was smiling before he even turned to look at her. She was draped in sky blue silk and pearls, reminding him of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus.

“I think he’s iconic, to be sure.”

She sidled up to him and looked at the small painting. “Thinking about bidding? It looks like everyone else is besotted with that original Warhol.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder to reference the crowd steadily growing on the other side of the ballroom.

But all he could focus on was the smell was her perfume. Expensive and floral, it seemed to fit her perfectly.

Manicured fingers handed him a Mont Blanc pen from the depths of her designer bag. “Best of luck, Agent Pike.”

As she walked away, he realized she knew his last name now—somehow—and he still didn’t know hers.

Pike tried to find her again in the mess of rich people, to ask her name and how she knew of his ‘agent’ status and last name. But all he managed to do was catch a glimpse of blue silk as she exited the venue.

“Do you know her?” A tired-looking man asked as he walked to Pike’s side. “She left a large donation and my boss will kill me if we don’t have a name to write in our next list of donors.”

“I…I don’t actually. Did she bid on anything? Maybe we could get her name that way.”

And for the next fifteen minutes or so, he filtered through the crowd, trying to ask inconspicuously about his Venus and if she had bid on anything. And, when he finally learned that she had bid on an Alphonse Mucha sketch. And he almost felt lucky. Almost!

Because, as he made his way over to where everyone was pointing, he saw only two scribbles on the sheet. Surely he could discern which one of the names was hers. 

One was Richard…

And the other one was just a scribble of blue ink, smudged beyond legibility.

                                                         **

(A few weeks later, he was delivered a package at his office. Inside was the Dalí he had bid on. On a slip of paper was a smudged smiley face and the word: Enjoy!)

                                                        **

The third time he met her was decidedly less glamorous. The Art Squad had been trailing a group of thieves across the East Coast when they finally caught up to them in Boston. Pike had hoped they’d be able to catch them in the act and be done with it.

Instead, what they found when they stormed into the art museum, was the thieves holding several hostages. And, of course with his luck, she was among them.

Her hands were behind her head and she was on her knees as one of the thieves pointed a gun to the back of her head. Boredom was, surprisingly, coloring her face but she smiled when she caught sight of Pike. “Hi, Marcus.”

“Hi,” he said in return, fighting a smile of his own.

The whole thing was over in just over an hour and the hostages were released and the thieves were carted off in the back of a police van.

And maybe now he’d finally learn her name.

He was the lead agent on the case so he had to answer a million and one questions from other agents, from outside law enforcement, from the press. And, belatedly, he watched his least favorite agent, Rhett Brown, approach his unnamed Venus. The agent was fine when given a gun and told to shoot—but how he’d managed to wind up on the Art Squad was a mystery. He’d lost or misfiled more paperwork than anyone else Pike had encountered put together.

Pike knew he needed to finish all of this nonsense—and really, he shouldn’t call it nonsense, this was important—if he wanted to even have a chance to get her name. But the local police asked a lot of questions (they were doing their job, he couldn’t blame them) and then the press conference dragged on (again, they were just doing their jobs). And by the time he finished, he jogged back to where the former hostages had been held as they were being questioned.

And, of course, she was gone.

Pike pulled Rhett aside and asked for his notes.

Rhett nodded and stuck his hand into his suit pocket and then froze. “Oh no.” He quickly patted down his other pockets and shouted at another agent, “have you seen my notepad, man?”

                                                            **

Pike was tired when he met her for the fourth time. 

The deposition had lasted longer than he anticipated, stretching long into the night. The case was a strange one, involving inheritances, forged wills, and a “disappeared” Jackson Pollock that “reappeared” across the country. The hotel was nice, however, and he slumped into a stool at the hotel’s upscale bar and ordered a pale ale.

It was set in front of him quickly and he drained half of it without much fanfare.

“I always thought you looked more like a whiskey kind of guy.” 

He nearly spat out his drink. 

She slid into the stool next to him and ordered a top shelf cognac. Her lips were painted a vibrant shade of red and left a mark against the glass as she took a sip of the amber liquid. “Long day?”

“You could say that. You?”

She nodded with a small smile. “What’re you doing in New York? More FBI business?”

“Something like that.” He took another drink of his beer and she watched him over the edge of her own glass. “How’d you know I was in the FBI?”

“We have friends in common. I know Charlie—you helped him get back his precious Van Gogh.”

“Ah, Charlie.” He nodded in understanding.

“Yes, he went on and on about the FBI agent who saved his marriage—imagine that, an entire marriage hanging on the edge of one painting.” Despite cognac being meant for sipping, she had already nearly drained her glass. “Imagine my surprise when it was you—the man from the gallery opening who basically gave me full permission to dump wine on a pompous asshole.” She watched him laugh as she took another sip of the dark amber liquid. “Charlie pointed you out when you came to the auction. The man can hardly remember his children’s names but he remembers yours.” She smiled and he could have sworn he’d never seen anyone so beautiful. “But I like the um…” she gestured at his chin and then placed her finger beneath her nose in a childish imitation of a mustache. “It’s a good look.”

He laughed—she was good at making him laugh. “I was undercover.”

“Oh?” It came out with another laugh. “Aren’t you mysterious?”

“I’m mysterious? You know my name and my job—and that I think Dalí is iconic. I know nothing about you.”

“What is there to know? I procure art for people who have too much money. I spend more time on planes or in hotels than I do in my little apartment in New Orleans. I like Humphrey Bogart movies and a good blanket.” She smiled before polishing off the last dredges of her drink. “See? Now you know more about me than I do about you. And it is all far less interesting.”

His heart had lodged itself higher and higher into his throat as each word passed her lips. “No…I-I think you’re really interesting and beautiful and I…I would love to know more.”

She was embarrassed, he could tell, but she still smiled. Her mouth opened to say something else and-

-a bellhop stepped to her side. “Your bags have been loaded into the car, ma’am.”

She turned and thanked him, pressing a few bills into his hand before she stood and grabbed her purse. She put a few more bills—far more than her drink could have possibly cost—onto the bar top and signaled to the bartender that she was paying for both their drinks before he could even think to stop her. “Thanks for the company.”

“Yeah. Of course.” He was in a bit of a daze as she leaned down to press a quick kiss to his cheek. The familiar scent of her expensive perfume touched his nose as she pulled back.

“I’ll see you around, Agent Pike. But really,” she once again mimed the mustache, “it’s a good look.”

He murmured his goodbye, head still pleasantly swimming, and watched her walk away.

It took him a full five minutes to realize he still didn’t know her name.

                                                     **

The fifth time he met her, he’d been stuck at O’Hare International Airport for five hours. Five hours in the worst airport known to mankind. His flight back to DC had been delayed and then delayed some more and then delayed some more. He’d only been in Chicago for a few days to help lead some training to the local arm of the Bureau. Nothing exciting. And now he was stuck waffling between two equally awful airport restaurants for dinner while he continued to wait.

“Hey stranger.”

He turned to see her walking toward him, a designer carryon being wheeled behind her scuffed sneakers. Her hair was up in a lop-sided bun and she had traded her dress for a pair of jeans and an oversized band t-shirt. And why was his mouth filling with saliva? She threw her arms around him in a hug that he quickly reciprocated, squeezing her around the middle as she laughed lightly in his ear. “It’s good to see you. I see you kept the facial hair.”

He laughed and scrubbed a hand over his patchy beard and mustache. “Yeah, I guess I did.” Pike cleared his throat, trying to not sound so smitten. “Where’re you heading now?”

“Home, thankfully. I’ve been go-go-go since I saw you last. It seems everyone wants to give works of art as presents this year. I’m kind of scared what Christmas is going to mean.”

He smiled, liking to know about her life, how she felt. “Been anywhere exciting?”

“Paris and Milan lose their charm after a while. But I finally got to go to Casablanca.” There was a near twinkle in her eye now. “I felt like I should’ve been running around in a trench and fedora, chain-smoking. God knows how many times I muttered ‘here’s lookin’ at you kid’ to myself like a loon.” She shook her head as she bit her lip. “Sorry. I ramble when I’m jetlagged.”

“It’s okay, really. I…I like it.”

She shoved at his shoulder with another laugh. “Careful. You’ll make me fall in love with you.”

“Would that be so bad?” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them—something he usually did when he let his stupid, romantic heart take the lead.

She tilted her head as she looked at him with an almost shy smile playing on her lips. “No. No, I don’t think that’d be bad at all.” They looked at each other, each fighting a smile and stupid fluttering of their hearts for the near-stranger in front of them. She broke the little daydream by clearing her throat and glancing away for a moment. “And you? Been anywhere exciting?”

“Just Chicago. Had to lead some training. My flight’s been delayed for a couple hours. Hopefully, I’ll be out of here before midnight.”

“Well, if you’re looking for a good place to eat in this hellscape, I’d recommend the restaurant near C26. I’ve yet to get food poisoning from them—and the food’s pretty good, too.”

“You want to join me?” He asked, something optimistic blooming in his chest.

But her smile fell. “I wish I could. But my flight starts boarding soon.”

As if on cue, there was an announcement over the intercom. “Hello passengers and welcome to Flight 306 to New Orleans. Right now, we will start boarding with our group one passengers and active duty military in uniform.” 

“That’s me,” she said with a sigh. “But it was good to see you, Marcus.” She reached out and squeezed his hand.

He squeezed her hand for a moment, keeping her still. “You know, I still don’t know your name.”

She paused and then laughed, a full-belly laugh that quickly had him laughing, too. “It’s-”

A passenger cart beeped as it zoomed by, carrying a few elderly women.

“Group one, you’re free to board. Group one,” the announcement seemed to echo in the terminal, overly loud on the old speakers.

He swore he saw her lips move. He did!

But then she was squeezing his fingers again and walking away.

                                                     **

The cherry blossoms were in bloom. Aside from the terrible crowds they brought and the overall mugginess that came with the season, it was one of the things he liked about living in DC. He was sitting on a bench and watching the wind blow through the trees, rustling the pink and white petals gently. His lunchbreak was ending soon and he’d have to get back to the office. The other agents had caught on about his “mysterious lady friend” when he’d finally arrived back from Chicago and had been ribbing him about it ever since. (“How did you not get her name already, Pike?!” A question for the ages.) He crumpled the wrapper from his sandwich and tossed it in the nearest bin, preparing to leave the park.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, just for a moment.

But when he opened them, she was standing in front of him like something out of his daydreams. She smiled at him before helping herself to the space beside him on the bench. “I was told you like this bench when the blossoms are in bloom.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Your fellow agents are very chatty, you know.”

“You came looking for me?”

“’Course. I was in town. The auction I need to attend isn’t until tonight and…yeah,” she trailed off, embarrassment coloring her tone as she looked away from him for a moment. “Yeah, I thought I’d see you.”

His smile was so big he was sure it was going to break his face. “I’m glad you did.” He reached out and curled his fingers around hers as they rested on the bench beside her legs.

Her smile was shy but she squeezed his fingers in return as she kept looking out over the cherry blossom trees. “It’s pretty here. I’d love to wake up and just see this.” She waved her free hand toward the blossoms.

“Well, it happens every year. You can come back.” Or you could stay, his traitorous, lovesick heart whispered. But no, he wouldn’t say that. No yet, at least. He could take this slow.

But then she kissed him, quick and soft—he nearly missed it. And she was quickly leaning back against the bench, trying to school her features into indifference.

“What is your name?” He asked, question bursting forward.

She guffawed and pulled her hand back with an exaggerated flourish, fighting another smile. “I told you at the airport!”

“There-there was a transport honking and-and an intercom and then you left-!”

She cupped his cheek in her hand and the words died in his throat. She smiled again, fighting a laugh, and whispered her name.

He whispered it back, rolling the letters across his tongue carefully, pressing it into his mind to keep and hold.

He liked her name.

Part Two

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter twenty seven: skin and valentines

“the flies come roaring out, and will surround the entire world, and blacken out the sky and every last one of you, like a plague of locusts, like an exit, like an end.” -”burning bright (a field on fire)”, nine inch nails

i can finally say this now: BIG OL’ SMUT WARNING!

Testament were about to head out on tour at the very end of the month when Sam had the idea to make a drawing for them as a good luck charm of sorts. She also finally decided to head out with them while on tour given she was already in the thick of it all with traveling back and forth between her parents' houses. The other alternative was staying back home there in California and doing nothing to save herself.

She had that business card of which Charlie had given her before and she knew the only way in which she could do something with it was if she went with them. They did have a few stops over in New York after all.

In the meantime it had been a couple of weeks since he had told her that Anthrax were headed into the studio and there was no word if Joey would join them as of yet. Even though she was well nestled within their circle, it almost felt as though she had been put at a distance. The West Coast stood out as a completely whole separate world from back East. If nothing else, she had to bring both worlds together in some way or fashion.

She worked on that drawing all month long until they left for upstate New York and she finally decided to join along with them. As far as everyone knew, she wasn't their groupie, but rather their resident artist. She came up with the story that she would follow them wherever they went and made art along the way for them.

But that drawing consisted of the finest pen work she had made since Cliff was alive.

The snakes on her head. The look on her face.

It was sort of a self portrait: she based the expression on her face off of the way in which she looked in the mirror's reflection in the mornings. The way her face was shaped. The way in which the serpents riddled and writhed around the crown of her head. She had to draw it and she had to draw it up not just for herself but for those five men as well.

It was also around this time she began to see the mysterious man in her dreams once again.

He often appeared to her in fragments those times around: rather than full fledged dreams, but she knew it was him. The way in which his hair waved about and the way he always gazed back at her from the void. The way he seemed to burn into her memory like the ripe bright cherry at the end of a cigarette.

And she still had no idea if he was supposed to represent Alex or someone else. All she knew was Marla was the only other person who saw him in her dreams when the going got rough.

She finished up the last of the serpents on Medusa's head the night before she flew out to upstate New York with Testament. The more she thought about it, the more appropriate it felt to her to have drawn up Medusa before she sat next to Alex again on the plane. Greg and Eric were on the other side of the aisle from them; meanwhile Chuck and Tiffany took to the seats right behind them, and Louie was right next to an old man on the other side. Sam and Alex were surrounded: no way they could act upon each other there on the flight, especially since he kept his nose in the book he was reading all the while.

“You brought some of your drawings with you, right?” he asked her at one point, to which he lowered his book from his line of sight. For a brief moment, she looked up at the little tuft of gray atop his head and she swore it grew within only a couple of weeks time, from a slight pearl to a full on tuft the size of a baby carrot.

“There was no way I wasn't going to bring them with me,” she told him in a low voice: Louie's soft snoring right behind them caught her attention. She peered across the aisle to find Greg had fallen asleep as well while Eric paid attention to a few letters he had received just prior to the tour's onset.

She opened her journal right there for Alex and showed him that drawing of Medusa, to which he gasped at the very sight of it. Those thin lines of black ink that made up the scales on the snakes. The richness of the green skin. The way in which her eyes glared at the both of them from the nothing.

“Wow,” he breathed.

“I'm extra proud of this one, yeah,” she confessed to him.

“As you should be—that's stunning.”

“You know what else I wanna do?” she asked him.

“What's that?”

“Well, seeing as we're on a plane and there really isn't anyone else paying much attention to us—”

He raised his eyebrows at that.

“You're not suggesting...” he muttered, and he hesitated right in his tracks.

Sam turned to a fresh page right at the middle of the journal and without sparing a scratch of graphite or a drop of ink, she drew up two bodies right there on the page before her. Alex tucked his bookmark in between the pages and set it down on the tray before him so he could watch her.

The smooth angles of a young man in his prime. The smooth gentle full curves of a young woman.

He raised his eyebrows when she added the black hair on his head and left a spot black for the tuft of gray over his brow. He showed her a smirk when she added her features on the woman.

“Oh my,” he whispered. “You really are Georgia O'Keeffe. Go sexy some more.”

She brought a finger to her lips even though it was obvious no one paid any attention right then.

He showed her a sweet, thoughtful smile when she signed her initials at the bottom of the page.

“Mmm, sexy erotic art,” he noted. “No one can ever know about it, though.”

She shook her head at that and she looked over to see Eric looking in their direction.

“What about me?” he said to them in a low voice, and Alex brought a hand to his mouth to keep his laughter from growing too loud.

Then Sam remembered that Eric had offered her a date. She had hope that he would do that for her at any given moment during that tour, but as long as they didn't do it there in upstate New York, she would be fine with it.

Within time, they landed there in Poughkeepsie and Sam recognized that shoulder length blonde hair under the lights of the airport.

“Bel!” she called her.

“Hey, Sam!” Belinda greeted her with a tight embrace: she had missed the way in which she smelled.

“Hey, Belinda!” Louie followed up from right behind them. Chuck rounded out the group hug from the left there.

“I've got to call my dad and tell him that we made over here in one piece,” Sam told them; and Belinda turned to Eric for a hug himself.

“Good plan, li'l Sammich,” Chuck said.

“Hey, when's Father's Day this year?” she asked him.

“Father's Day is the—eighteenth, I think? We're going down South then so we might not have a phone nearby.”

“I could just skip on it,” she suggested with a shrug of her shoulders.

“You forget and you become the girl who forgot Father's Day,” he told her. He lifted his gaze to right behind her and she turned around for a look back at him there. Those long black curls down around his shoulders and the little pile upon his head so it actually resembled to a crown of sorts.

“Joey!” Sam declared, and her heart hammered inside of her chest.

“Sam! I thought that was your caboose right there—” He extended his arms towards her; as she came closer to him, she noticed tears in his eyes. She held him so close and his lips grazed against the side of her neck, as soft as they had ever been before. The softest they had ever been before towards her.

It felt so long since she had touched him and felt his body pressed up against her own. He leaned into her face and pressed his lips to her own. His tongue slithered right into her mouth and she wondered where they were headed from that point onward.

She knew Alex stood there right behind them all the while but she didn't care. She had her arms around Joey's slender body and her lips locked onto his.

His brown eyes sparkled with life as he led her away from there.

“Where are they going?” she heard Belinda ask Alex right behind them. But she couldn't hear what he said to her given Joey led her all the way back to the little shops at the front of the airport.

“Joey, where are we going?” she asked him at one final point.

He led her into a gift shop which, had she not known any better, she swore was a lingerie shop. There was no one else in there with them: Joey guided her to the edge of the room, right behind a rack of snow globes. They were nestled back there on the freshly vacuumed carpet. No one else but them.

He put her lips to hers and he ducked down behind the snow globes. She followed suit to the floor with him.

“Fuck it,” he breathed into her ear. “Fuck it—just fuck me. Right here, right now. Right in front of everyone.”

She reached down and caressed the crotch of his jeans with three fingers. Joey whimpered right into her ear. She made out and had phony sex with two other men before then but she needed to do it for real right there with Joey himself. He fell to his knees before her and then he lay down on the soft clean carpet. His black curls sprawled out from underneath his head in those rich lush waves.

“Sit on me,” he begged her.

Two men who begged it from her and specifically from her of all people.

“Sit on my face,” he begged her, “sit on my face and let's get it on hot.”

She was about to lose her virginity with Joey. That rite of passage that everyone talked about and made such a huge deal about this whole entire time.

She set her courier bag down on the floor right there. She stripped off her jeans and took a seat right over the prominent tip of his nose.

The edge of his tongue slithered around on her lips as she spread her legs a bit for him. It was difficult given they were in the midst of a gift shop but they were tucked back in a small corner of it all. She could only hope that no one else would see or hear them as Joey licked harder for her.

She gasped as the feeling only persisted with him. She lifted up and took a seat on his hips. No one else around them, even there in broad daylight.

Joey gagged on something. He coughed a few times and covered his mouth with the full palm of his hand.

“Shhh,” she hissed to him, and with her finger up to her lips.

“Hello?” someone on the other side of the room called out.

“Damn it,” he groaned. “The next time we get a moment alone, I hope it's at the hockey rink.”

“Hello, hello?” the clerk called out again.

Sam lifted up and fixed her jeans with a bit of haste. Joey did the same before he sat up again right as she came back towards them.

“I've just got a hair on my tongue,” he explained to the woman, and Sam shook her head at that as she picked up her courier bag from the carpet. She paid no attention to what he was doing right then.

“We're alright, I promise,” Sam assured her as she held onto Joey's arm and led him back out of there, right as they met up with Belinda and Testament once again.

“What the hell was going on in there?” Eric demanded, and Chuck burst laughing when he saw Joey.

Sam finally turned around for a better look at him and the blush over his face and his tongue hanging out from his mouth like a dog.

“We're a thirsty boy,” she joked to them in a low voice, and Greg yelped out at that. Joey shook his head and blushed.

The seven of them made their way over to the hotel about a block from the theater, and all the while, he put his hand on her knee and even inside of her thigh. Testament's van remained right before them the whole way there and yet she wished to be in there with them, not because she wanted to get away from Joey but because she wanted to hang out with them some more.

They pulled up to a stoplight and he leaned in closer to her for a kiss on her neck. She returned the favor with a kiss on his lips and her hands on either side of his face.

He blinked several times once he pulled back from her and lunged ahead on the vast main road.

They climbed out of the car together—how Sam missed the humid lush feeling of upstate! But no sooner had she rounded the back end of the car when she felt his hand fondle up the seat of her pants.

“God, you're horny right now,” she groaned.

“I haven't seen my girl in so long,” he begged to her as he handed her her courier bag, her purse, as well as her travel bag. “I can't touch my girl? Like she has to cock block me?”

“Not in front of the boys,” she insisted; indeed, Testament had gotten out of their van; Belinda joined in from the car behind them as well.

“Besides,” he told her in a low voice, “I've gotta slip into sump'n a li'l more... dare I say, comfortable.” He flashed her a wink when he said that. “Also, Charlie should be up here like any time this evening. He wants you to meet someone.”

Sam raised her eyebrows at that. Now she knew the meaning behind the card Charlie had given her in the rehearsal space that previous time. Joey then leaned back into her face for a hearty kiss on the lips before he climbed back into his car again. Her heart swelled inside of her chest as he gave her a glimpse back and showed her a wink.

Given it was the middle of the last day before the brand new tour, she knew that Joey would be back for the show that following night, and perhaps her as well. She watched him go off when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Greg right behind her with a little smirk on his face.

She turned around for a better look at the five of them plus Belinda.

“I think this hotel here has some billiards, Eric,” she said aloud as she hoisted her purse over her shoulder. The sound of billiards made Alex raise his eyebrows at Sam. She shook her head at that and he snickered.

Since it was the beginning of June there in upstate New York, it wasn't until seven o'clock when the sun began to hang low over the horizon, and when Sam finally called up Ruben to tell him that they had made it there to the East Coast.

“You kids have fun this summer,” he told her.

“Oh, we will,” she vowed as she lifted up her shirt and proceeded to change into something more comfortable herself.

Greg and Alex sat on either side of her at dinner time there in the wide open front lobby: every so often a gust of cool wind blew her black hair back and the bottom of her little low cut black blouse up so both of them could have a view of her belly. It also didn't help matters that she wore little black denim shorts all the while.

Eric and Belinda were still billiards while Louie had gone out there in town and Chuck and Tiffany sat on the far side of the open floor together, right underneath a television suspended on the wall.

Every so often, Greg gave his long dark hair a little toss back with a flick of his head so Sam could see the side of his neck. She never noticed the bit of five o'clock shadow there on his chin and all around his jaw line before. On the other hand, the thought of Joey with a bit of fuzz on his face tickled her a bit.

“Greg, you oughta put your hair up,” Alex suggested.

“Yeah, you'll look all stylish like a model,” Sam joked, which in turn made the both of them laugh out loud.

“I'm getting kinda hot, anyways,” Greg confessed.

“Hot as in thermally?” she asked him as he stood to his feet.

“Hot as in thermally, yeah,” he replied with a straight face, but it only made Alex chuckle. Greg flashed her a wink as he stepped away from their table and headed back inside of the hotel. Alex took one more bite of his chicken alfredo, and then he leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his dark hair followed by the tuft of gray.

“Stick a fork in me, I'm done,” he said, to which Sam picked up her fork and gently poked his belly with the tines. He flinched back which only made her giggle at him. She tried to gently poke him again and he flinched back to the edge of the chair some more. She pictured him being so cute with a bit of weight on his body: he was already on his way with the round shape of his face and those apple shaped cheekbones.

He then stopped. His eyes widened like a deer in the headlights. The warm soft color in his face drained away to that of old drywall. He looked as though he was about to vomit up his dinner right there.

“What?” she asked him, and he pointed across the floor. She turned her head and she looked on at the television screen.

“Tiananmen Square in Beijing,” he said, “a bunch of protests over there from people who want democracy. It's been going on for more than a full month now. They actually declared martial law over there just a couple weeks ago. Look at that guy!”

Her mouth stood agape as they watched a sole man stand in the middle of the street there in Beijing, right before a tank. When the tank moved out of the way of him, he moved to the side. They then both watched him climb up the side of the tank to the top hatch, and they gaped at each other. Alex returned to it and then he brought his hands to his mouth once more.

“Holy shit,” he blurted out; one of the few times Sam had ever heard Alex swear before her.

Thousands of Chinese took to the streets right there before their eyes against a backdrop of smoke and bullets. The crawlers on the top and bottom of the screen all read in Mandarin and given they were across the room, they couldn't hear it, but the horrified look on Alex's face told her everything she needed to know about it.

He shook his head and stood to his feet.

“What's the matter?” she asked him as she followed him outside to the impending darkness. “Alex?”

He bowed his head and hurried away from there: Sam followed right behind him, and then he finally stopped and turned towards her with a look of absolute pain on his face.

“I can't—I can't—that's just—no.”

Even in the darkness, she could see the tears in his eyes. She put her arms around him and held him so close to her.

“I want to help those poor people,” he wept. “They don't need that horse shit! They need to be free!”

“It's okay, Alex,” she told him in a hushed voice. “You do what you can. You do good, too. If it's any comfort at all, that worries me, too.”

He lifted his gaze to her and looked on at her like a lost puppy.

“That is a comfort to me,” he promised her. She pressed her hands to either side of his face and she put her lips to his. “As is that,” he added.

“Hey, guess what?”

“What?”

“We're alone again,” she said, and he glanced about the sidewalk.

“Yeah, we are. How appropriate.”

“You wanna hang out?” she offered him.

“Let's,” he replied with a little flutter of his eyelashes.

“You're knockin' me out with those lashes, boy,” she teased him.

“I should knock your ass out right now just for that,” he retorted to her.

“Knock my ass out right now with fuck all below the belt?”

He laughed at that, that big hearty laugh right from deep within his body. He lingered closer to her again.

“You really do what you can, Alex,” she repeated. “I can see you being such a force to be reckoned with in the music world with your voice.”

He showed her a sweet little smile and he lowered his eyelids a little bit. He showed her his tongue as well, as he ran the tip over those soft lips.

He then turned his head and he gestured to the other side of the lot, there of which stood a short alleyway.

“There's a spot right over there,” he told her in a low voice, and they ran across the parking lot, past Testament's van and past Anthrax's bus, both of which had been posted up at the curb. He rounded the corner first; once she joined him there he opened the buttons on his shirt a bit more so as to show off more of his chest to her. She thought back to when they took her to the field they scattered Cliff's ashes, except this time they were about to do it for real. The sole light came from a floodlight at the rim of the parking lot, but the distant glow from it was enough to soften his skin and make him appear fuller and rounder than before; full and round like the moon.

He grimaced at something.

“What's wrong?” she asked him.

“I've got an itch,” he complained.

“Huh?”

“I've got an itch!” A soft rustling sound emerged from the darkness between them.

“Where? I'll scratch it for you.”

“It's—It's—It's?” He chuckled at that. “It's—on my—I dunno if you know about any of this because you're a woman and whatnot—there's like this little tent that forms over the crotch of a guy's jeans when he sits for too long. The itch is literally right on my crotch.”

“Again, I'll scratch it for you,” she said.

“You just wanna touch my crotch,” he chided.

“Of course I wanna touch your crotch because it's nice and warm and very soft.”

“Not as soft as my ass, I would assume,” he teased her.

“Your ass is like a little pillow, Alex,” she retorted. “You know what else is like a little pillow is your tummy.”

“Eating so many ginger snaps,” he teased her as he patted his stomach. “Too many in fact.”

“How's that little vampire bite I gave you holding up, by the way?”

He lifted up his shirt and showed her that red mark the size of a dime right next to his belly button. His milky skin seemed to glow under the soft light behind him, and it glowed bright enough for her to see the mark for herself.

“Like a little branding of sorts,” he joked, and she giggled at that. To think it wasn't that long ago she and him didn't like each other that much. She put her arms up on his shoulders and he leaned back against the wall. She moved her face up to his and he parted his lips for her. The dim light softened his face, and those deep eyes, and that plume of gray over the right side of his brow: she still owed an encounter with Greg at some point during that tour, but for the time being she needed to be with Alex. She ran her fingers through his inky black hair and he tilted his head back a bit to show her his neck.

“C'mere, baby,” she whispered to him. “Come to mama, baby.”

“I'll come right here and right now,” he whispered back to her. “Just undo my pants for me 'cause they're a bit tight.”

She undid the button with both hands and then she reached down the front there. He was firming up but he needed a little bit of help.

Joey was actually down on the floor for her.

Alex meanwhile had his back to the wall for her.

“Yeah, just like that,” he breathed as her fingers caressed over his skin. “Yeah—Yeah—it's like squeezing a tube.” He gasped when she touched him a little bit too hard, but it brought a devilish smirk to her face.

“Harder?” she teased him.

“Harder—come on, you can do better than that. I know you can.”

“I want you on your back,” she commanded him; at the same time that was all she could think of with him. Something about his round face and those deep eyes whereby she wanted to see him down on the ground, splayed wide open all for her. “I want you on your back and I want you to beg for mercy.”

“Can't really lie down, though,” he whimpered as she touched him with a bit more pressure.

“I want to give it to you, though,” she said.

“Give it good and hard?”

“Extra hard. I know you like a little pain, baby.”

“I'm a bad boy and I need a good bit of punishing.”

“I'll punish you, alright,” she retorted back to him. It was as if they were ricocheting off of each other.

Alex's lanky fingers slithered down to the waist of her shorts and he yanked them off a bit. She undid the button on her shorts and she let them slide down her legs. Even in the darkness she could feel him right there right before her.

“I wanna know how you taste,” he whispered.

“Where?”

“You know. The place where the sugar bleeds out.”

“Oh, there. It might be hard to do that standing up, though.”

“I don't think so,” he whispered, and he dropped down from her face and down to her waist. She never went this far with Cliff before and thus to feel this right before her was almost alien to her. She could feel him taking off her underwear. She spread her legs a bit to help him out with it.

The feel of his tongue there sent a shiver up her spine.

“I think it's—it's—” he breathed. “This is like ten ginger snaps.”

He tickled her with his tongue. She could feel him going up inside of her with nothing more than that tongue. He slithered about like a hearty snake.

He then gasped for air and she shuddered from the feeling at the base of her spine.

“Whoa,” he groaned out.

“Yeah, you were digging deep there,” she sputtered: she was warm as a smoldering fire below the belt. Her nipples hardened on the inside of her bra.

“I want you to make me a mess,” he begged her. “I want you to do it, Samantha!”

He opened the rest of the buttons on his shirt for her and she put her arms around him. She thought back to when he was a sixteen year old boy and she had that fleeting thought about kissing him. She could do it for real at that point.

“Yeah, you like that, don't ya, big boy?” she breathed into his lips. She held back into an upright position and she gazed straight into those deep eyes right before her face.

It was like shedding skin with him. Even though she never saw anyone like that before, she did feel it within her with Alex right underneath her. She kept her knees on either side of his hips. It was just like Chuck, except she was really there for real that time around.

His back to the wall and her hands on his shoulders.

They stared right into each other's eyes as she ground down on him.

“You can go faster, you know,” he said without batting a lash.

So she did. He pressed his hands down on the wall behind him.

She held onto his shoulders a bit harder so she could go faster and harder on him.

A long time coming.

“Mmm—yeah, that's it right there,” Alex stammered. “Right there!” He closed his eyes and relished in the feeling between his thighs.

“Like that?” She thrust a little extra hard on him and he gasped again.

“Yes!”

“Like that!”

“Yes!”

“Like that!”

“YES!”

“LIKE THAT!”

“YES! EVERYTHING WITH A BITTA HUTZPAH RIGHT ON MY FAT ASS YES!”

She lifted off of him right as he came for her: as if she knew he was about to come right there. Out of breath, Alex's knees buckled and he slid down the wall a bit. Sam could feel something trickling down the inside of her legs.

“You're bleeding, my mistress,” he said in a broken voice. His bare chest heaved and he flashed her a shaky thumbs up. “I—I—that was everything I could've asked for...” He let out a whistle while she pulled up her panties and her shorts. She had a couple of pads in her purse back in the room, which meant she had to run back there with her legs together.

“Fuck me,” he breathed out.

“Okay!” Sam declared, and he burst out laughing at that, and then he followed it up with a soft moan from his throat. She stooped down for a better look into his face.

“D'you like that, baby?” she whispered. His knees quivered a bit as he stood back up to his feet; she caught him before he lost his balance.

“That was everything I ever imagined,” he said, still out of breath.

“Mmm—baby.” She put her arms around his waist.

“No one can ever know about us,” he said in a low voice, and she looked right into his round face and those eyes. He had never been so soft before. She had him right in the palm of her hand like a handful of jelly. She gave him another kiss right on the lips, albeit one that was quite a bit longer that time around. She slid her hand down his stomach, still very soft despite having slimmed down with time. Silky soft and very sweet, just how she liked him.

“Not a single soul, baby,” she breathed into his parted lips.

She bowed her a bit which in turn accentuated the sharpness of her brow to him, and through the dim light he showed her an exhausted little smile. And yet his eyes burned into her like the cherries on the ends of cigarettes.

She kept her legs pressed together as she headed back to her room for a shower and a fresh change into her clothes. Even though it was still early, she was ready for bed by the time Belinda returned to the room a bit tipsy; she dared not explain to her the blood on her underwear or why there was a few little specks on the bathtub there, and she could only say that it was nothing more than paint.

She went to bed early that night and woke up early the next morning, mainly from the sore feeling between her legs but also from the fact that she had gone to bed early that evening. She padded into the bathroom, and as she ran her hair brush through her dark hair, she looked on at the full figured woman in the mirror in front of her.

“Those two men are just something else,” she muttered as she shook her head. Even after she vowed to Alex that she would keep the whole thing a secret betweent the two of them, she knew that her clothes still smelled like both him and Joey. She picked up that low cut black blouse she wore on that first day there in upstate New York

“Bastards—both of them,” she said as she shook her head.

The spot between her legs was going to be sore from where she and Joey did it together, which in turn felt even more sore courtesy of Alex. But she dared not tell anyone about either encounter as she headed downstairs to fetch two cups of coffee and two plates of breakfast for both her and Belinda.

Alex was already up himself: he stood there before the buffet table with an empty plate in hand. When no one was looking, she reached down and slapped him right on the seat of his pants, to which he lurched forward. He turned around with a bewildered look on his face and then he flashed her a little grin.

“Yeah, you better take it easy on them ginger snaps, Alejandro,” she teased him, “if not a belly, you're starting to get a bit of junk in the trunk.”

“I've got junk in my trunk? What about junk on my junk?”

“Shhhh!”

She peered over her shoulder to ensure no one wasn't eavesdropping on them.

“I'll put a bit of junk on your junk soon enough,” she vowed to him in a husky voice, and he giggled at that.

“Sam!” Charlie's voice sailed from across the room.

“More on that later, baby,” she promised Alex in a soft whisper right into his ear. She bowed over to the other side of the room where Charlie sat across from a strange woman.

“Sam, this is Scarlett Valentine,” he introduced her, “—the artsy woman I was telling you about whom I introduced Marla to and almost singlehandedly got her foot in the door in the art scene.”

“Not quite,” Scarlett assured him in a big Queens accent much like Scott, “Marla still has to find a place to set up her works first. I also wouldn't say singlehandedly, either, as I had a bit of help, too.”

“Oh, so you're Scarlett!” Sam declared.

“That I am.” She showed her a friendly warm smile and a little glimmer in her eyes. She had a short straight bob of platinum blonde hair which fit her heart shaped face so she resembled to a queen of hearts, and she wore a smart dark red bathrobe over her pajamas.

“I'd have to go back up to my room to fetch you my journal, though,” Sam told her with a shrug.

“That's okay,” Scarlett assured her. “Charlie was just about to get the both of us a cup of coffee each.” Charlie himself shrugged and blushed from the attention on him.

Even with her legs sore, Sam still bowed back up to her room for her journal. Each step made her heart pound faster and faster in her chest. It was really happening: someone who had a lead in the New York art scene could perhaps help her out.

Soon, she returned to the lobby.

It almost felt as though she was about to display herself naked in front of an audience as she opened the journal to that drawing of Medusa. Charlie gaped at the sight of it where Scarlett examined those fine lines and those bright colors as if she inspected buried treasure.

“What do you think?” Sam asked her.

“This is brilliant,” she breathed, “utterly beautiful—just takes my breath away.” She sat upright so she had a bit of distance between herself and the page. “Very unique style, too, like it stands out from a mile away.”

She turned to Sam with a twinkle in her eye.

“You are going to be the next big thing in the art scene, Miss Shelley,” she said, and the excited smile crossed her face all the while. “In New York and maybe elsewhere as well.

“You sure about that?” Sam asked her, to which Scarlett nodded; she never imagined anyone using those words on her before, let alone someone whom she had just met through Charlie.

“What did Frankie and I tell you when we first met?” he recalled as he took a sip of coffee.

[backtobackbakubabe]

I am the Alpha Now Part 8

Bakugo X Reader 

Words: 2585

Reader is from America and somewhat of a delinquent with an alpha quirk that allows her to turn into a wolf as well as bond with dogs. She is sent to UA to straighten out her attitude. She ends up in a power struggle with none other than our favorite hot head. Words in Italics are words said telepathically

Mercy wasn’t allowed in the tea shop which he took very personally. It wasn’t exactly convenient for you either considering you couldn't see without him.

“So what do you want?” Bakugo had led you to a table and was still holding your hand as if you would disappear if he let go.

You giggled, “Well considering I’ve never had tea like this, and I can’t exactly read the menu... how about you surprise me?”

You didn’t have to see him to know he was blushing. “Yeah whatever...”

His hand left yours and for a moment you did feel a bit panicked. You had never felt so vulnerable before. Your vision was slowly coming back, but it was nothing but a blur right now. You rubbed your temples, some small part of you hoping that the friction would somehow reboot your lost sense.

You smelled the tea before you heard him his pull his chair out to sit down. A warm hand took yours and placed a hot cup into it. “I didn’t know what you would like... so I just got you my usual drink.” You raised it to you lips and took a careful sip. “If you don’t like it I can always...”

You smiled at him before taking another big gulp. “It’s great. It’s an adjustment from what I’m used to, but in a good way.”

There were a few moments of silence, which was a little more unsettling when you couldn’t see his face. You finished your cup and cleared your throat, “So about that talk?”

“Yeah.... about that talk...” The sound of his chair scooting closer to you made goosebumps break out across your skin. “I’m going to be honest with you.” His fingers started to play with the ends of your hair. “I’ve never really done the whole relationship thing before. Didn’t want to. I’ve only ever wanted one thing and that’s to be the number one hero, the strongest guy in the room.”

You snorted, “What? You have a little dick complex or something?”

The fingers that had been playing with your hair gave it a quick tug. “I know you can't see right now, but that doesn't mean there’s no one else here.” You bit your lip to keep from laughing. He leaned in closer and whispered in your ear, “Besides... I think we both know that isn’t true...”

Your face heated at the memory of you two together, “Mhmmm. So what now? What is that you want Bakugo? Because by the sound of it you want the milk without buying the cow... and I’ve been there before and while it can be fun for a time, it’s never enough.”

You could now see a slight outline of him sitting next to you. His hands were running through his hair. “Okay first of all did you just call yourself a fucking cow? What the fuck does that even mean? Is that one of your stupid American sayings?”

“It means you want to fuck without the commitment, but I thought we were trying to be polite while we were in public.” You knew your voice was louder than necessary, but you loved embarrassing him.

He growled, “Are all Americans as rude and crass as you are?” His hand was now on your thigh, “That’s not what I was trying to say.”

You put your hand on top of his and lightly rubbed circles on it with your thumb, “So what are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying... that I would very much like to buy your cow...”

You couldn’t help the stupid grin that overtook your face, “Oh yeah? And who said I’m selling?”

You could almost feel his eyes roll at you, “Why do you always have to be such a brat?”

“Because it’s fun… and I know you secretly like it.”

His grip tightened on your thigh, “Careful pup. It’s true that I might like it, but don’t push it. Besides there’s still a lot more we need to talk about.” You rubbed at your eyes desperately trying to get your vision to clear. It was blurry, as if you needed glasses, but at least you could see. “As you’ve noticed, I can be a bit… controlling.”

“A bit?”

“Let me finish…” You could barely make out him running his hands through that damn spiky hair again. “I need that.. I need to be in control. I know it seems like I’m an asshole… But just like how you have this instinct to be in control of Mercy… to be an alpha. I have those same instincts.”

You blinked a few times as he was slowly starting to come into focus. “Yes Bakugo, but I’m an Alpha, it’s who I am.”

He tilted your chin up to him and his lips hovered over yours, “That may be true… but you have a decision to make.”

You knew what he was asking. He wants you to be submissive to him. He wants you to give up control. At first you were pissed. How dare he even suggest it. But then you remembered how it felt. How it felt in those brief moments when he did in fact take control. It was… freeing. It was relaxing. It was nice. And it had only been for those brief moments. You reached up and pressed your lips to his.”

His hand cradled your cheek, “I am the Alpha now.”

You left the tea shop hand in hand. Your vision may have been clearing up by the minute, but he still insisted that he lead you. Mercy trailed behind you nagging you about it. “Why do you hold hands? I don’t like it. What did I miss in the tea shop?”

“I’ll catch you up later. For now, just keep an eye out for trouble.”

You wound through the busy streets until he yanked you to a stop in front of a stand. You winced a little, you had almost forgotten you were stabbed earlier. Bakugo’s eyes cut to you, “What’s wrong?”

Rotating your shoulder a little, you shook your head. “It’s nothing. That dumbass who tried to rob the store stabbed me remember. I just need to work out the kinks.”

He was behind you in an instant, “Shit I totally forgot! Are you okay?” He was inspecting your shoulder but when he couldn’t find any obvious damage he started to massage and rub it, eliciting a moan from you. “You seriously don’t even have a scar. How does that work?”

You shrugged lightly as he continued to rub your very sore shoulders. “I have no idea. I mean, how do I shift into a wolf? It kind of makes sense if you think about it. My body is already changing and shifting all the time, so why not just put it back together the right way.”

He leaned forward and gave your shoulder a quick kiss. “As badass as that is. I’d still prefer it if you at least tried to not be stabbed in my presence ever again.” He returned to standing in front of you and put his hands on your temples and looked into your eyes, “How are your eyes. Is your sight back yet?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Yes I can see. Not as well as I usually can, but then again I see better than most people anyways.”

He narrowed his eyes at you but nodded anyways. He resumed walking you towards the stand he had tried to drag you towards earlier. It was a jewelry stand, all hand made. He was conversing with the man running the stand in very quick Japanese while gesturing to you a few times. You managed to pick out the words “small”, “dog”, and “pretty” Other than that, you had no idea what they were talking about.

The man grinned and turned to his stand and started pulling out tools. Was he about to make something right now? “What is he doing? Is he making me something?”

Bakugo took your hand and gave it a squeeze. “The cashier we saved from the store earlier was his granddaughter. He said he owed us a favor, and I’m just cashing in before the old man forgets who we are.”

You shook your head at him. Even when he was trying to be nice, he was still so rude.

The stand owner returned to you and held out a necklace. It was a choker with a thick black leather band. Hanging from it was what looked like a pink pearl. “Oh it’s so pretty!” Bakugo thanked the kind man. Even thought it was a favor he still tried to pay for it, but the older man wouldn’t have it. Bakugo put the choker around your neck and clasped it tightly. He leaned forward, brushing the hair of your neck, “Every good pet needs a collar, isn’t that right pup?”

Your cheeks flushed and you gulped. “I am no one’s pet.

“Hmmm, you’re right. You’re more than that… but you’re still my little pup.”

You had started to make your way back to the dorms. Both of you carrying bags of groceries. He had limited you to one item of junk food and the rest where fruits, vegetables, and other varying degree of healthy food. You had been annoyed at first at being told what to do. But then you realized he wasn’t forcing you the way a parent would a child. At any point if you had really wanted the extra junk food, all you had to do was reach out and grab it. He was doing this because he just liked being healthy and he wanted you to be healthy a well. It was an odd feeling, to have someone care about your well-being that much.

You were about halfway back when you stopped dead in your path and placed your groceries down! “Oh look! Good luck!” You reached over and picked up what you thought was a penny heads up. “Aw man… I thought it was a penny.”

Bakugo looked at you like you were crazy, “Why are you picking pocket change up off the street? Why would that make you lucky? What is a penny? Did you mean yen?”

You put the coin in your pocket, deciding it was lucky anyways and the universe was just going to have to deal with it. “In America if you find a penny heads up it’s supposed to be good luck. A penny is our one cent coin.”

“Tch, how lucky is it to find one cent?” He was bending over now and picking up the grocery bags you had put down. He may try and act like a heartless tough guy, but he really could be sweet. “Hurry up would ya? I’m hungry.”

After enjoying some time to run around off his leash, Mercy trotted up to you. “So can you tell me now? Are you two mating now?”

You almost choked, “DATING! How many times do I have to tell you it’s called dating… not mating.”

Mercy huffed, “How many times do I have to tell you there is no difference to a wolf.” He nudged your hand with his nose. “What’s going on?”

You rubbed the top of his head, “We have started a relationship. Yes. Exactly what kind of relationship… I’m still not sure. But go easy on him alright. He means well… usually. And he really seems to get along with you so please don’t like attack him in the middle of the night or anything.”

Mercy howled, “That happened one time! It was dark and some guy I didn’t know was on top of you!”

“OI! Mercy! What’s with the howling?”

Mercy ran to catch up with Bakugo. “He’s not sure if he likes the idea of us dating yet.”

“Oh come on man. I thought we were cool?”

Mercy barked back with his tail wagging.

“Okay? So, then what gives? Is it because I’m bossy?”

Mercy barked again. This time lunging for Bakugo’s feet, almost tripping him.

“Oi! Watch it! I’m caring your groceries too ya know!” He slowed down and matched his pace to Mercy’s. “Look man, I really appreciate you looking out for her, because let’s be honest somebody has to. But I’m not going to hurt her okay. I promise.”

You could feel your heart swell with admiration. It was an unfamiliar feeling. Almost like it wasn’t even your emotion you were experiencing. The only other option was Mercy. It had been a while since either of you had let your emotions spill over to the other. It was how you initially had communicated but ever since he learned English there was no need.

Later that night you sprawled out on the couch with Mercy on the floor in front of you while Bakugo cooked dinner. “Hey what was that earlier? I could feel you getting all warm and fuzzy?”

Mercy picked his head up and cocked it to the side, “What are you talking about? I’m always warm and fuzzy… I have lots of fur…”

You rolled your eyes, “No like emotionally.. You got all happy when talking to Bakugo.”

He huffed, “No I didn’t. If anything, I was protective and ready to fight him. I like him and we are friends but that doesn’t mean I won’t bite him if he’s an asshole.”

Well that didn’t make any sense. If it wasn’t your emotions, you were feeling, and they weren’t Mercy’s…

“Oi, dinners ready. Are we eating out here or in your room?”

Bakugo was standing next to the couch with two plates of food. You sat up and took a plate from him. “Let’s eat out here for a change. Let’s be social.”

He groaned as he took the seat next to you, “Fine… Mercy I left a big bowl of your food mixed with some chicken and rice in the kitchen. I left it on the kitchen table, but you should be tall enough to reach. Just holler if I need to get it down for you though.”

You cozied up to him like you would normally do in your rook and kissed his cheek, “Thanks for cooking.”

You heard a loud crash from behind you. You expected to turn around and see that Mercy’s klutzy ass had knocked his bowl off the table, but instead you saw Kirishima with his mouth hanging open pointing at the two of you. “When the hell did that happen?!”

Bakugo’s hand clenched into a fist but you just put a hand over it to calm him down. “Officially? Today. But I’d say we were kind of casually dating for a while now.”

Kirishima climbed over the top of the couch and plopped down on the other side of Bakugo, “This is amazing! I never thought I’d see the day where he actually wanted to voluntarily spend time with another person.”

You giggled and kissed his cheek, “Yup I finally got him to buy the cow.”

Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck, “Alright I’m confused…. He bought a cow? Why?”

Bakugo shoved him off the couch, “Don’t worry about it, it’s just a stupid American thing.” His arm snaked around you and pulled you closer to give you a quick kiss. It had to have been your imagination but when he pulled back you could have sworn you saw a brief blue glow behind his very red eyes. Must have been the reflection of your eyes in his right?

**************************************

Tags : @tspice283 , @realityisoftendisapointing , @imbi-101 , @thoughtfulpandazine2 , @hotarumorikawa , @huh-iwasntpayingattention , @starfishlovingbnha

[lis-likes-fics]

ᛖᚦᚨᚾ (Elijah Mikaelson x Reader) - Chapter Ten

Y/N thanked the Mystic Falls residence for their help. Now that she was in her right mind, she had been able to befriend some of them, finding that they weren't so bad to be around. Worrying about Ethan had really taken a toll on her. They all seemed to like her more, now that she was back to her old self.

She had said goodbye to her new friends with promises of visiting and returned to New Orleans with her family.

As soon as they got back, Y/N, Ethan, and Elijah spent the day together. Ethan and Elijah got along perfectly. They did a lot of stuff together that only made Ethan love his father more.

Afterwards, Ethan spent time with his Aunt Rebekah and Uncle Klaus while Y/N and Elijah spent time together.

They took a stroll through the park. It was the first true quiet time they'd had together in forever. They were calm and at peace and filled with their love for each other and it made the moment perfect.

"I missed this." Y/N said, her hand wrapped around Elijah's as she ran her fingertips over their interlocked hands. "Being here with you. Everything is so calm, peaceful. It feels so much better."

Elijah smiled, bringing their hands up to his lips and kissing them softly. "As have I, dearheart."

"You know what else I've missed?" She asked him, stopping them as she faced him with a smile.

"What?" He questioned, looking into those beautiful eyes of hers. She stood on her toes to reach his lips, pressing hers against his as she engulfed him in an intimate kiss.

He kissed her back quickly and easily, placing his hand behind her head as she tilted his own for a better angle.

She tangled her hands in his hair as she deepened the kiss, so engulfed in the feel of his lips on her own.

They pulled back, their lips still hovering over each other as they smiled. "I've missed that, as well."

She chuckled and went in for another kiss. He spoke, "Wait." She stopped, moving her face away to look at him properly.

He smiled and told her, "I have something to say first."

She nodded to show she was listening and he spoke, "I've loved you for so many years and I hope to love you for so many more. And I hope to do it properly, and there's only one thing keeping me from that."

He kneeled down in front of her, taking her hand while his other disappeared in his pocket and took something out.

He took out a small black box and opened it, revealing a beautiful diamond ring that glistened when it caught the light just right.

She covered her mouth, tears springing to her eyes as she watched him. He continued, "Being apart from you was the worst thing I ever had to endure, and being a part of you will be the best thing to be. The family I have with you is more than I could ever have asked for and I want to continue to share it with you. So, Y/N Axeldottir, will you do the honors of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?"

Y/N nodded, smiling wide as she wrapped her arms around him, "Yes, Elijah, of course! You know I would!"

He smiled as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and holding on tight. He slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her again, this kiss filled with love and joy and passion.

When they pulled away, she told him, "You do realize we were already engaged, right?"

He nodded, "I'm aware. I just wanted to do it right. Besides, no one knew."

"Everyone will know now." She told him, wrapping her hand around his once more and engulfing him in another loving kiss.

~

When they reached the compound once again, they smiled at each other with hearts practically rising from one another. "What's got you both so happy?" Rebekah asked, walking over to them with Ethan.

Y/N ruffled Ethan's hair with a smile and looked at Elijah before turning back to Rebekah and Klaus, who were sitting in a chair reading.

"Elijah and I..." She started, the smile on her face growing.

Elijah finished for her, "We're getting married."

Rebekah smiled and ran over to give Y/N a hug, "I'm so happy for you! It's about time."

She then hugged her brother, "One thousand years of being in love and you're finally typing the knot. Congratulations."

Elijah smiled, "Thank you, Rebekah."

Klaus stood, taking his time to walk over to the two, his face blank as he folded his hands behind his back.

He stopped in front of Y/N first and a slow smile spread over his features, "I'm glad I finally get to properly call you my sister."

He hugged her tight and she hugged back, "And you, my brother."

When Klaus pulled back, he gave her that smile as he rested his hands on her shoulder and looked over to Elijah.

He smirked, "I'm happy for you, brother. You finally found the love you deserve."

Elijah couldn't help the smile that broke on his face as Klaus hugged him, a true brotherly hug that he hadn't given him in a while.

Ethan looked up at Elijah and smiled, then at his mother. "Yay!" Was all he said as he ran off to another part of the compound.

Y/N furrowed her brows, "Hm."

Elijah shrugged and smiled at her. A moment later, he was in front of them again with his camera around his neck.

"Say cheese!" He exclaimed as he held it up to his face. They both shared a laugh and got in the frame, smiling.

Ethan lowered the camera and urged them on, "Say cheese!"

Elijah and Y/N smiled even more and did as told, "Cheese!"

Ethan clicked the camera and looked at the picture, smiling wide as he ran off to another room, disappearing in a second.

"Hm, do you think he's going to show us?" Y/N asked. Elijah shrugged, "Perhaps..."

Y/N just shrugged and sat back down, Elijah following suit and picking up a book to read while they waited for Ethan.

A few minutes later, a scream was heard from Ethan's room, making everyone rush to his room in a blur to find him staring down at his photo album.

"It looks so good!" He squealed, grabbing the book and holding it to his chest. Y/N let pit a breath and sighed, "Whew. How does it look, Eth?"

He shoved the album in her hands and she chuckled as she opened it and looked at the page. Elijah looked over he shoulder at the page it was turned to, the picture he'd just taken in the middle and surrounded by a couple of drawings Ethan had scribbled in carefully and stickers he really liked. At the bottom of the picture, the words read, 'Beautiful Days'.

They both smiled and showed Rebekah and Klaus. "It's beautiful, Ethan." Y/N told him, stooping down to pull him into a hug.

He got his camera out again and took another group picture. "We're gonna need more books." He muttered with a smile.

~

The day of the wedding finally came a long week later. Y/N had woken up with no Elijah and a note that he'd see her on the isle. She was then rushed out of the bed by Rebekah and her friend, Cami, who Y/N quickly got along with.

They spiffed her up, getting her in the wedding gown they'd chosen earlier in the week. It was sleeveless and had long white gloves, the front of the dress hung low into a V and had lacy flowers decorating it. Y/N wore simple pearl earrings and a necklace Elijah had presented to her earlier that week.

When she was finished, Rebekah finally allowed a couple of the eager guests to walk in. Although, they only allowed family in, so it was only a couple of people.

"You're here? I didn't think you'd come!" Rebekah exclaimed, a smile in her voice. Y/N turned around to see who'd stepped into the room.

A smile grew on her face and she rushed over to the little sibling she loved. "Kol! It's been so long!" She exclaimed.

Kol had his arms open and a large smile on his face, "Y/N!"

He picked her up and swung her around. "I never thought I'd see you again! I missed our ventures in the woods." He told her.

"As did I." She replied, that smile in her face and a few tears springing to her eyes. "Don't cry, the makeup will have to be redone!" Cami warned with a smile.

"Oh, yeah." Y/N said, stepping back to look at Kol and carefully wipe at her eyes, "Well, you look great."

Kol smiled, "Speak for yourself, you look beautiful. Elijah's a very lucky man."

"And I, a very lucky woman." Y/N responded.

Kol nodded and told her gently, "I missed you, Y/N. Hey, maybe we can cause some more mischief soon."

"I'd love to." She responded, a mischievous spark in her eyes to compliment her smirk. Rebekah nodded, "Yes, well, it's almost time so you need to go and you need sit still do I can put this pin in your hair.

Y/N nodded and gave Kol another hug, "I'll see you later, K." He nodded and smiled, "Congratulations, sister."

She smiled and he headed off, after being shooed away by Rebekah with a newspaper. The music started playing and they knew it was time, Cami left to go find her seat and Rebekah stayed behind as her Maid of Honor.

Y/N sighed and stared at the door, shaking off her hands. Rebekah placed hers on Y/N's shoulders and asked, "Are you alright? Not getting cold feet, are you?"

Y/N shook her head and looked back at Rebekah, "I've been waiting a thousand years for this. I'm ready. Besides, we've been engaged all of those years so...I think we've waited long enough."

"I'm sorry, what?" Rebekah asked.

"Later." Y/N answered simply. Rebekah nodded and said, "See you out there." She headed out, giving one last nod of luck before disappearing behind the door.

Finally, her cue was up and Y/N grabbed the bouquet of flowers and walked out of the room and toward the entrance of the isle. She took a deep breath and stepped out in front of everyone.

Her eyes wandered around the room at first, looking at all of the faces, familiar and otherwise. Cami, Kol, Davina, Hayley, and many others.

Then her eyes scanned closer to the alter, seeing Ethan in a tux with the rings on a pillow and a smile large on his face. He shifted the pillow over and gave her a thumbs up. She smiled and chuckled lightly, giving a little nod of acknowledgement.

Her eyes then shifted over to Niklaus'. He had a large half smirk, half smile on his face, proud of his brother, his new sister, and of course his wedding planning skills.

He gave a simple nod, which she returned as she continued to walk, clenching the flowers in her hands.

She then saw him. His chestnut hair, his chocolate eyes, his smile. She saw it all. He was beautiful. He gazed at her lovingly, his smile growing when his eyes locked with her own. She smiled as well, a tear already running down her cheek as she kept from biting her lip.

She finally reached the alter, the crowd sitting as she passed the flowers to Rebekah. She placed her hands in Elijah's offered ones and smiled more.

Marcel, who was wedding them, smiled and started the ceremony. Everyone could tell by now that the two had tuned most things out, lost in each other's eyes as they finally had each other.

"Hey." Marcel whispered to the two. They turned toward him. "Hm?" She whispered. The part of the crowd who heard chuckled slightly.

"The rings." Marcel chuckled. They both looked at Ethan who was standing with tired arms, presenting the rings for them.

"Oh, yeah." She muttered as the two scrambled clumsily to grab the rings. Ethan sighed and wiped at his forehead as he took his place next to Niklaus again.

They slipped the rings on each other's fingers and Marcel spoke again, looking to her. "Do you, Y/N Axeldottir, take Elijah Mikaelson to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

She nodded, "I do." Her voice was slightly unsteady, but clear enough to understand. Marcel nodded and turned to Elijah, who never took his eyes away from hers, scared he may lose her again.

"Do you, Elijah Mikaelson, take Y/N Axeldottir, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

He nodded, "I do."

Marcel smiled and spoke out loud for everyone to hear, "Then by the power vested in me, by the state of Louisiana, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the-"

Elijah took no time in taking her in his arms and planting a firm kiss to her lips, passion igniting in the both of them as they eagerly tied that knot.

"Bride..." Marcel finished with a smile. After the kiss, they stared at each other for a moment before finally turning to the crowd in front of them, who were cheering and clapping their congratulations.

Ethan ran over then, hugging Y/N and Elijah tight, "I love you guys."

Elijah smiled at that, pulling him a little tighter, "I love you, too, son."

Y/N smiled, wiping away a tear. Elijah gently swiped his thumb across her cheek to clear the tear as well. "I love you."

"I love you." She said, kissing him again.

~

The reception started and they were already being crowded by a bunch of people. Thankfully, it was people Y/N was roughly familiar with.

Marcel spoke, "Congrats, you two. It's a good thing he has you, Y/N."

She smiled. Elijah spoke, "Marcel is family, so he knows what he's talking about."

She chuckled, "That's for sure. I know how crazy this family can get at this point."

Davina gave a congrats as well, which slightly shocked Elijah, for some reason.

"I'm surprised you came. All of you..." Elijah spoke.

Caroline spoke, her friends next to her shrugging, "We heard Y/N was getting married and came to support."

"And, well, an Original getting married? I was waiting for something to go wrong." Damon spoke.

Y/N rolled her eyes at that, "Nothing could ruin this day for me."

Damon shrugged and walked off after another congrats. Caroline rolled her eyes, "Ignore him. He's annoying."

"Congratulations, Y/N." Stefan spoke beside her. Elena and Bonnie came up as well, followed by a lot of unfamiliar faces.

After a lot of talking and a few toasts, the two of them began dancing. The two to them started the slow dancing, it was close and intimate, their eyes never left each other.

Soon, more people joined in, grabbing their partners and dancing the night away. Elijah was smiling as he gazed into Y/N's eyes, but he suddenly looked away and frowned when his eyes caught something.

She frowned as well, "What?"

"Get behind me." He told her. She frowned more and looked to see what he was looking at. The veins under her eyes pulsed slightly when she saw what Elijah had been stating at.

"Y/N..." Elijah warned, trying to attract her attention to calm her a little. She parted from him and he grabbed his hand in her to make it seem at least a little normal. However, the sudden change had gotten Niklaus, Kol, and Rebekah's attention and they saw what was happening as well.

They joined their side and stormed over to the scene. Ethan looked up at his mother and father and shuffled over to them and away from the person he was just with.

Y/N brought him to her side. "Finn, what are you doing here?" Elijah asked with his voice quiet and low to keep from drawing too much attention.

Y/N clenched her jaw slightly, focusing on her hand in Elijah's. The oldest brother looked at his siblings and Y/N. "This is the wedding of my little brother, do I not have the right to come?"

"No, you do not." Niklaus spoke up, taking a step forward.

"If you don't recall, Finn, you killed my mother and tried to kill me. That's not going to earn you a warm welcome." Y/N spat at him, holding Ethan tighter. Ethan looked up at her with a shocked and expression and then back to him.

"I was doing what was right by my family, but it doesn't seem like that matters." Finn responded, "I see you had the little thing."

Y/N hissed at him, "Ethan is not a thing. He is my son and you will not speak about him like that, nor will you speak to him."

"He could have ruined this family." Finn argued.

"I sincerely doubt that, brother. I think it is best you leave. Go back to forgetting about us." Elijah warned, his tone more threatening than Y/N had ever heard.

Finn could easily hear the threat in his tone, the slight challenge. But Elijah had Rebekah, Niklaus, Kol, and Y/N on his side, along with countless other vampires, he didn't stand a chance.

Finn nodded, "Congratulations, brother." He glanced at her and turned, leaving them alone as he left.

"Well, it's not a Mikaelson wedding without a bit of drama, isn't it?" Kol commented when Finn had completely left.

They chuckled weakly and continued with the reception, putting it behind them. "That was Finn?" Ethan asked.

She nodded, "Yeah, and he's a real pain. If you see him, tell us immediately, he isn't good news."

He nodded, "I will, Mom."

He gave her a large toothy smile. She smiled and brushed his hair back with her fingers. She sighed, "Did you grow a little bit? You seem the slightest bit...taller. Your hair's a little longer, too."

He shrugged and said, "I dunno." He then skipped off as he saw Rebekah waving him over. Y/N sighed and shrugged, "I dunno." She repeated.

Elijah wrapped his arm around her waist and asked, "Back to the dance floor?"

She nodded, "Of course."

~

After finally being wed, Y/N, Elijah, and Ethan now had their own official little family. A month passed after the wedding and Ethan had, indeed, gotten bigger.

They soon found out that his slow aging process was because of the necklace. Since it kept his witch counterpart locked away, his vampire genes became dominant with his human genes and slowed his aging. When his magic was finally awaken, it allowed his aging to speed up again, far quicker than Y/N was used to.

In the next few months, he went from being the little nine year old, to be a tall seventeen year old who wore more suits as he took after his father more. He hair had grown out more to his shoulders and he was coming up on her height.

The maturity in his nine year old body had shown more in his seventeen year old one. Y/N was sad to see him grow up so much faster, but she cherished every moment even more because of it.

Y/N was sad to see him grow up so much faster, but she cherished every moment even more because of it ~

"Ethan!" Y/N called.

"Yes, Mother?" He asked, coming down the stairs and over to her.

"Hey, do you know where I set my keys?" She asked, looking through her purse again.

He shook his head with a chuckle, "No, you probably left them with Father."

Elijah entered the room, swinging the keys around his finger, "You did. You handed them to me in case you forgot them."

"Ah, I did." She said. She then turned to Ethan, "Are you sure you'll be okay tonight? We don't have to go."

Ethan laughed, "Yes, Mom. I'll be fine. Besides, Aunt Bex is here if I need anything. And if I go out, I've got Marcel and his vamps watching me, you've made sure of that."

"Yes, but you hang out with Kol and Niklaus so much, you do have a mischievous streak." She reminded him.

He laughed again, kissing her forehead, "Yes, I know, but I promised I'd stay out of trouble and I will. Now go before you decide to stay."

She sighed and kissed his forehead, "Okay." Elijah wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her forehead before turning to his son.

"Behave so your mother doesn't come back for you. Because she will." Elijah told him.

He nodded with a smile, "I know. I'll behave, I promise."

Elijah grabbed her waist and lead her away after a nod to his son. "Bye, Ethan! We'll be back in a few days!" Y/N called after him.

Elijah continued to haul her out as he threw over his shoulder, "Goodbye, son."

"Bye!" Ethan called.

"Bye! Be good!" Y/N continued. Elijah picked her up when she'd turned around to give her son another hug, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her away and to the car waiting in the front.

"Hey!" She yelled and kicked her feet. He sat her in the car and closed her door, getting in the driver's seat and started the car.

"Are you sure he'll be okay?" She asked.

Elijah chuckled, "Yes, he'll be fine. He knows how to handle himself and he knows to behave. Besides, it's only a few days and we've needed a vacation."

She sighed, "You're right, I guess I should stop worrying."

He nodded and leaned over, placing a soft kiss to her lips. "Let's go." He spoke, driving down the street as they headed out.

When Ethan was sure they were gone, Rebekah came from the other room at his signal and said, "So, how about that trip? Kol's got the car ready and the bags are packed for France."

Since Ethan heard from his mother that she and Elijah were going on vacation for a week, Rebekah and Kol decided to take him on a vacation of their own. They were going to go to France for a few days to see how much trouble they could actually get in before Elijah would allow Y/N to come down to get them herself.

Ethan smiled, "This is going to be a fun trip." He definitely took after his mother.

~THE END~

Always and Forever Tags: @alien-sida​ @xxwritemeastoryxx​ @melodiclovesong​ @thebrotherssalvatore321​ @satedbond​ @strangerliaa​

[extremelyblackandwhite]

lover series - daylight

Pairing: Carter Baizen x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: this is what happens when i mention carter baizen more than once a day. also daylight just fits him as a person??? if you wanna listen to daylight while reading this, here. this was inspired by an ask i got in this blog, thank you for the idea 💕

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in Everyone looked worse in the light There are so many lines that I've crossed, unforgiven I'll tell you truth, but never, "Goodbye"

   - Get out. 

   - What? - Carter looked at the blonde sat next to him whose eyes seemed to wander to everyone but to him. - Don’t be like this. You’re just nervous about meeting your dad.

   - I don’t need your help anymore or ever again. I should have done this on my own from the start.

  - Fine, if that’s what you want. - he opened the door of the limousine, climbing off the comfortable warmth of their vehicle to be greeted with the darkness and coldness of New York during the warmth. Serena, without as much as looking back at the man who had spent a full year helping her find her father, ordered the driver to keep going. Well, he should’ve known better but once again, his judgement tended to be clouded whenever dealing with pretty women. 

Once again he was all alone again, nowhere to go, no one to talk to. He could just fell his parents awaiting for him to return to them on his knees begging to be taken back but at this point there was too much damage done and Carter was much to prideful to return to them. In all honesty, Carter was much to prideful to even stay with New York. After the mess that had been his relationship with Serena, no doubt the rest of the Upper East Side was gonna go after him with every single little dark secret he had, and he had plenty of those. 

With that in mind Carter decided to do what he always did; start again. That’s what he always did when things went south or when the world became too suffocating. However, after doing humanitarian work and a documentary, he wondered what he could do next. Lost in how to reboot his life for what seemed like the millionth time in his young years, a little fall of rain from the sky started to wet his cashmere black trench coat. He bite his lip out of frustration. Of fucking course, that was just what he needed right now. Before he could let out all his frustrations by kicking a nearby bin, drops of water stopped falling on his coat and instead sounded like they were falling onto plastic. 

    - Are you alright, sir? - a melodic, magical-like voice broke through his mind and his eyes travelled to a woman standing next to him. She was holding a plastic umbrella over him which kept both of them dry and away from the rain. Unlike him, she was dressed in a lesser quality fabric, using what looked like a blue waitress dress and some off brand white sneakers with her hair pushed into a ponytail, everything merely covered by a worn out black cotton trench coat. - Sir? 

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you I've been sleepin' so long in a twenty-year dark night And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

Suddenly, he remembered a faithful sentence from one of the movies he had seen during his youth, finally understanding its meaning. They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops. It was true, time did stopped, everything seemed to move in incredibly slow motion, he could see every single blink of the most gorgeous pair of eyes he’d ever met, hear every drop of rain hitting the plastic of the umbrella. However, the later part of the sentence was also true, once time starts again it moves extra fast, and none was that true as a honking bus drove through a puddle of water, waking them both from a dream-like trance. 

     - I saw you being kicked off a car from my diner. You look like you needed help. - she pushed a few of the fly away hairs of her ponytail held together by a blue scrunchie behind her ear. Unlike the girls of Upper East, they weren’t adorned with pearls or heavy jewelled earrings. - Do you wanna come in for a bit, just while the rain doesn’t calm down?

Carter still found himself still staring at her. God, where had she been hiding his whole life? Did she just decide to pop up now that he had been truly humiliated by Serena. Serena, who was even Serena? He didn’t think he’d ever want to think about Serena, Blair, Beth. Who were any of them compared to that woman holding an off brand umbrella over his head as if he wasn’t one of the most hated people in the Upper East. In normal circumstances, he wouldn’t enter any lower ranked places but her smile and comforting aura just made him want to follow her anywhere she went. And so, with a nod, he followed her inside a small diner just in front o the place he had been so unceremoniously dumped. The place was small and empty seemingly with her being probably the last employee before closing time. Nevertheless, there was some charm on the beat up, too used black board by the kitchen window with various pie names written in beautiful chalk calligraphy. 

    - Do you want to eat anything? My treat. - he wondered why she wasn’t charging, why a woman who clearly was much lower than him status wise and could clearly see he was rich offer him something. Normally people would try to quickly rip him off. - I bake them all myself. A new one every single morning. 

   - You bake a new pie every single morning? - he took a seat on one of the red leathered stools by the main table. - Is this your place?

   - No, I just work here but one day I’m gonna have my own place, my own pie shop and people are gonna come from all over the world to try my pies. - she seemed to get lost in her own fantasy before opening the lid of one of the various glass pies stands to take what looked like a wild berry pie slice, serving it perfectly on a freshly washed plate. - A little wild, wild, berry pie. 

  - Pardon? - he asked as she slide the plate towards him, handing him a fork at the same time. 

  - The pie. - she pointed at the board. - It’s the title. Cream patisserie with some berries on traditional pie crust. I got the idea while watching a particularly steamy scene on Sex and the City. 

  - You created the recipe?

  - Where do you think recipes come from? - she smirked at him. - Come on, I promise it’s not poisoned. 

Carter gave her a coyly smile before sinking in his fork in the beautiful berry coloured desert, taking a piece before bring it up to his mouth. As the sweet touched his tongue, he swore like he melted away from his whole body. The taste was fantastic and Carter was certain he had never tasted anything better than that small piece of pie.

   - God, this is fantastic.

   - Thank you, I try my best. - she smiled. - I’m Y/N, by the way. 

   - Carter Baizen. 

Luck of the draw only draws the unlucky And so I became the butt of the joke I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked Clearin' the air, I breathed in the smoke maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down Maybe I've stormed out of every single room in this town Threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it's morning now It's brighter now, now

  - Olivia? - Carter mockingly called out, looking around his hotel suit as he wrapped a burgundy red tie around his pristine white shirt. A small high pitched giggle came from behind the leather coach. With a coy smile, Carter slowly moved towards the couch. - Oh, where could my Libbie be?

Another high pitched came from behind the coach and before the three year old could realise what was happening, Carter had already grabbed her by the waist, throwing her to the ceiling before catching her in a fit of giggles, her inherited curly brown hair stuck in front of the same eyes she had definitely gotten from her mother. The little girl giggled once more, tiny arms coming to wrap themselves around her father’s neck. 

  - What are you two doing? - Y/N came out from her bedroom due to all the giggling. Noticing her daughter in her father’s arms she merely rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. - I thought you were supposed to be in bed.

  - We’re just playing hide and seek. - she replied, hiding behind her father’s neck. She surely knew how to avoid confrontation. Y/N merely laughed, walking up to her husband and daughter. - Do you really need to go, mummy?

  - It’s just for a few hours. We’ll be here when you wake up. - Y/N pulled some of her daughter’s hair away from her round, chubby baby face. 

  - Why can’t I go? - she pouted. 

  - You wouldn’t like it, baby. - Carter kissed her cheek before handing her to the nanny who they had hired specifically for tonight. Usually Y/N and Carter didn’t hire nannies as they would rather spend time with their daughter rather than having a complete stranger. Most of the times, Olivia would either be at the pie shop with Y/N or at Carter’s firm office. However, tonight specifically both Carter and Y/N needed to attend a donators gala hosted by none other than Carter’s old fling Serena van der Woodsen. Initially, Carter had been firm on his decision not go, much too uninterested in ever speaking to her or any of her friends ever again. However, after some convincing on Y/N’s part and how he shouldn’t really care about other’s opinion and just enjoy a nice night out, he had caved in. - Trust me, daddy won’t like it either. 

  - Tuck me in? 

  - Okay, baby. - Y/N took over from the nanny, picking her daughter up against her hip before walking away from the main room and into the bedroom of the hotel suit. Carter took to pushing the sheets away from the mattress as Y/N laid her daughter in, puffing her pillows just the way she liked it and pulling the duvet up to her neck. - Now you be a brave good girl for mummy and daddy, okay?

  - Okay. - she nodded, holding onto one of her many stuffed animals. - Night, mummy. Night, daddy. 

 - Goodnight, ladybug. - Carter placed a kiss on his daughter’s forehead before getting up and following his wife out of the hotel room before he could change his mind. His life had gone a completely one eighty every since seeing the group of people he used to hang out with during his youth. He had gotten married to the love of his life who was fiercely by his side no matter what happened, had started his own firm finally riding himself of his parents name, and had brought in the most precious daughter to the world. Whatever happened in the Upper East Side was no longer something that interested him even if he was one of the most wealthy men in New York. He didn’t want Y/N or Olivia to frequent those rotten and cruel places. They were happy in their own little bubble however, sometimes, like tonight, he had to confront the rest of the whole who seemingly still had his eyes on him.

Noticing his tenseness, Y/N intertwined her hand with his, giving him a soft and understanding smile followed by a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

 - You’re gonna be fine, you’ve done way better than everyone in that room. You didn’t inherit what you have, you built it and you should be proud of that, Car. 

  - Well, you have to say that, you’re my wife. - he moved his face slightly so he could kiss her properly. - I can’t believe you’re my wife. 

  - You asked me on a good day. - she looked at the engagement band stacked with her wedding band, simple in silver, nothing too big or too lavish, just something small that both of them liked. 

They were both escorted into the limo with Y/N immediately cuddling up next to her husband unlike so many of his girlfriends before. In all honesty, Carter sometimes thought he was dreaming. He just couldn’t believe he was married to her and if he had told a younger self he would marry someone outside the Upper East circle he wouldn’t have believed it, yet here he was. She was a magnetic, kind, determined woman who had managed to get him out of a rut and push him to his full potential while still living her own dreams. He thought he couldn’t be more in love with her and then she gave him Olivia. He still remembered that faithful New Year’s Eve when she handed him a pregnancy test or when they had to rush out of one of his dinners because she had begun labour. There was nothing in this world that mattered more to Carter Baizen than his girls, something the rest of the Upper East didn’t really understand. However, he was happy, he was happily married, happy with his career and happy with his little ladybug. 

  - Car, are you coming? - Y/N snapped him out of his daze as they reached the gala’s location. Pushing away all the insecurities he had, he pridefully walked down the stairs with Y/N by his side, catching the attention of every single person who stopped their chat to look at the “disgraced” Carter Baizen and the so called “pie girl” he had married.

  - Should we dance? - he gave her grin, offering her his hand eloquently much to her enjoyment. - I wish to dance with the prettiest lady in this room. 

  - Prettiest girl in the room? - she giggled, taking in his hand while the other one held her waist. - Should I ask how many girls in this room you’ve used that line with?

  - Well, Mrs. Baizen, you’re definitely the only one I’ve used that on.

  - You better not be lying to me, Mr. Baizen. 

  - I love you so much, Y/N. - he leaned down to peck her lips, not caring who was watching. 

  - I love you too, Car.

I once believe love would be burning red but it’s golden like daylight

[swinners1990]

Not So Berry Part 2?

Finished @lilsimsie’s ‘Not So Berry Challenge’ and looking for something else to keep you occupied? Well i was bored today and decided to write up my own 10 gen challenge for Sims lovers! I tried to go for aspirations I’ve personally not used, also the traits don't particularly match the generation colour but i find it fun having a colour to work with! Please let me know what you think of this and if you try it!

Basic Rules:

1. Each heir must represent the colour given for that generation (i.e hair, make-up, clothes and home items)  2. The colour of your sims spouses don't matter, nor dose the gender unless stated.  3. Cheats can be used, but not excessively.. (you can use freerealestate for your first home or mccc cheats for number of babies) 4. You may live in any world unless it is stated in the rules.  5. Keep lifespan on normal. 6. Every generation must complete both aspiration and career unless stated otherwise. 7. If you do not have all the packs and cannot do some aspirations or caeers etc. then adjust that generation to what you do have! & have fun! 

Generation One; Charcoal (start as teen with parents)

You’re a angry teen who’s parents don't understand why you wear thick black makeup and can always been seen in a band tee-shirt or anything with chains. Growing up with two strict military parents (you may cheat both parents high up in the military career) you are always rebelling, sneaking out after curfew to meet with friends or to drink at the local bar. Your parents are always nagging at you, so you have enough and leave for the big city, they think you wont make it on your own, but you’re stubborn enough to grind and grind to prove them wrong.

Traits; Mean, Kleptomaniac, Erratic  Aspiration; City Native Career; Baby Sitter (teen) & Odd Jobs only when a young adult/adult/elder (you may keep the Baby Sitter part time job after aging from a teen)

Rules;

1. Master City Native Aspiration. 2. Live in tiny apartment. 3. Never marry & only have one child 4. Master Guitar & Handiness skills plus two other skills of choice. 5. Have neutral relationship with child. 6. Leave home the day you age into a young adult. (or while a teen, but I'm unsure if teens can move out alone?)

Generation Two; Rainbow (all multicoloured clothes/hair/item's etc.)

After growing up in a dark colourless home, you want to be surrounded in as much colour as possible, you wanted it to look as if a rainbow crash landed in your home! You didn’t have a good or bad relationship with either of your parents, and being an only child was lonely, all you’ve ever dreamed of was a big happy family!

Traits; Good, Family Oriented, Childish Aspiration; Big happy Family Career; Professor

Rules;

1. Master Big Happy Family aspiration and Professor career. 2. Max the Research & Debate, Parenting, Bowling & Cooking skills. 3. Have at least 4 children. 4. Marry an adult sim while you're still a young adult. 5. Have a family bowling day out once a week on a day of your choice. 6. All children must share a room.

Generation Three; Hazel

Your home was always crowded, sharing a room with all your siblings you could never hear your own thoughts, so you spend most of your time outside playing, reading, playing the violin or cloud gazing, dreaming of a quite life by the sea.

Traits; Bookworm, Loves Outdoors, Child Of The Ocean Aspiration; Beach Life Career; Diver (teen) / Marine Biologist 

Rules;

1. Master Beach Life aspiration & Both Careers. 2. Max Fitness and Violin skills. 3. Must live in Sulani. 4. Have a mermaid best friend. 5. Have a close relationship to all children. 

Generation Four; Pearl

As a toddler you loved life on the beach, but once a child you went to school and discovered the Drama Club! You fell in love with acting and spent all your time in front of the mirror practising lines! You had stars in your eyes and nothing would stop you from being famous!

Traits; Self-Obsessed, Materialistic, Ambitious Aspiration; World Famous Actress Career; Actress

Rules;

1. Master World Famous Actress aspiration and Actress career. 2. Max the Acting, Charisma and Wellness Skills. 3. Join Drama Club after your first day at Grade School. 4. Have a butler and a maid. 5. Marry another famous sim. 6. Live in Del Sol Valley. 7. Become a 5 Star celebrity.

Generation Five; Mauve

While having celebrity parents was fun at times, they was always busy and you spent a lot of your time with the staff. After a while you started enjoying the company of animals rather than other sims. You decide that you want to run your own Veterinary business, but don't want it just handed to you like any other rich kid. So you BORROW the money from your parents for a small starter Vet Clinic & pay them back as soon as you start making money. (you can ask for large loans if your charisma is high enough, if not then use money cheats then cheat the money away to “pay it back”)

Traits; Cat Lover, Dog Lover, Cheerful Aspiration; Animal Lover Career; Vet Owner

Rules;

1. Master the Animal Lover aspiration. 2. Adopt stray animals only. 3. Lot traits to be both Cat & Dog Hangout 4. Max the Veterinarian, Pet Training and Knitting Skills. 5. Donate all knitwork to charity. 6. Marry an employee. 7. Vet Clinic must get to at least 4 Stars.

Generation Six; Emerald

Growing up surrounded by cats and dogs meant you was never alone, which in turn was an issue as that's all you wanted at times! As a teen you would love nothing more than to take a cooler to the local lake and spend hours alone, fishing! And if you wasn't doing that you would be out back crafting away!

Traits; Loner, Neat, Maker Aspiration; Angling Ace Career; Fisherman (teen) / Freelance Crafter

Rules;

1. Master Angling Ace aspiration and Fishing career. 2. Max the Fishing, Fabrication and Piano skills. 3. Have twins only. (don’t matter how many sets, but all children must be twins-Good luck!) 4. Fabricate most of own furniture. 5. Be engaged but never marry.

Generation Seven; Tangerine 

Being a twin was amazing and you loved your sibling, they’re your best friend! But sometimes you never got all the attention, it was shared.. EVERYTHING was shared! When teens, your twin becomes more into sports. While you are always glued to a phone or computer screen. Constantly taking selfies and updating your social media.. Finally getting the attention you've always craved! 

Traits; Hates Children, Self-Assured, Jealous  Aspiration; Fabulously Wealthy Career; Internet Personality

Rules;

1. Master Fabulously Wealthy aspiration and Internet Personality career. 2. Marry a rich sim. 3. Constantly upload videos, blogs & drone recordings. 4. Max the Media Production, Singing and DJ Mixing skills. 5. Hire a nanny daily to take care of any children you have.

Generation Eight; Cotton Candy

Your parent lived online for as long as you could remember, you had a good relationship with both your parents but you was always closer to you father. You found beauty in the greenhouse, and was never more relaxed than while you was tending to the garden and bonding with the bees. Your aim is to make your neighbourhood greener than your grandparents hair! You have one BFF as a child, but once teens the friendship turns romantic! 

Traits; Greenfiend, Recycle disciple, Vegetarian Aspiration; Freelance Botanist Career; Botanist

Rules;

1. Master Freelance Botanist aspiration and Botanist career. 2. Max the Gardening, Flower Arranging and Herbalism Skills. 3. Have a well maintained garden. 4. Don’t Woohoo until after married. 5. Have an outdoors/Beach wedding to childhood best friend. 6. Live in Evergreen Harbour  7. Make your neighbourhood green.

Generation Nine; Powder Blue

You had a happy free childhood and loved your parents dearly, but growing up you longed for adventure! You would jog everyday dreaming of climbing Mt. Komorebi! After taking a vacation there as a teen you fell in love with the scenery and culture, after that you concentrated on your training to do the big climb! 

Traits; Active, Proper, Outgoing Aspiration; Mt. Komorebi Sightseer  Career; Extreme Sports Enthusiast

Rules;

1. Master the Mt. Komorebi Sightseer aspiration and Extreme Sports Enthusiast Career. 2. Max the Rock Climbing, Snowboarding OR Skiing and Fitness skills. 3. Successfully climb Mt. Komorebi. 4. Have a ‘No shoes Allowed’ household. 5. Only ever do a ‘Respectful Introduction’ 6. Go jogging every morning.

Generation Ten; Sunflower Yellow

Your parents love for adventure rubbed off on you, they always taught you to follow your dreams, so you do and you set your sights on Archaeology! It was exciting and a different kind of adventure to your parents mounting climbing!  You'll be the next Indiana Jones, but how will you fund your full time adventures? Why not write about your amazing adventures too? Surly people will read about that!

Traits; Adventurous, Genius, Romantic Aspiration; Archaeology Scholar Career; NO JOB. (Odd jobs are allowed on occasion)

Rules;

1. Master Archaeology Scholar aspiration. 2. Write & publish books about your adventures. 3. Max the Archaeology, Writing, handiness and Selvadoradian Culture skills. 4. Only ever vacation in Selvadora 5. Marry a Selvadorian native.

I hope you enjoy this challenge as much as the original Not So Berry Challenge! It was so fun to come up with! 

[confusednarcissistwrites]

Hotsy Totsy PT. 2 (T.C.)

Soooo obviously the posting schedule isn’t all I had planned 😅 I’m just going to start posting as I have them ready for you so I don’t put undue pressure on myself and procrastinate my life away lol

Enjoy!!

Stepping out of the wild club and into the cool of the summer night gave Timothée a dizzying sense of deja vu, sending an ache through his chest. Your name reverberated through his mind like a shout in a cave. His trembling hands reached up and ran through his hair as he fought to gain his bearings.

“Tim? What’s going on?” Nick’s brow was drawn together in concern as he followed his friend out into the alleyway. Timothée had always been a hard person to keep up with as he was very connected to his emotions. It often was stressful, but being so close to someone so eccentric was refreshing to Nick; he’d dealt with far too many fake people in his life.

Timothée’s hands fell, meeting his friend’s eyes. “That’s her, man. That’s the girl. That’s-

“Y/N,” they said in sync.

Suddenly, it clicked. Nick felt stupid for not putting the pieces together sooner. He’d known that you had attended college to study musical theater on your parents wealth and your gifted vocal talents, but he didn’t realize that it was the same college Timothée had attended there in New York; he hadn’t even known of the young actor at the time. There had only ever been murmurings of this girl Timothée had met before he’d been drafted, all of which were prompted by heavy alcohol consumption. He’d known her name was Y/N, but he didn’t ever think that it could be his Y/N. He’d only really known you when you were both small children through family events. A little surprised smile crept onto Nick’s face. “Well, this is perfect then! I can get you in to see her-”

“Are you insane? I can’t see her” Timmy interrupted as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He shook his head and anxiety filled his stomach, his arms locked tightly around his torso; there was just no way, not yet at least. He wasn’t prepared for that at all.

“Well, why not? Weren’t you two close?”

Timothée scoffed, turning away from Nick. “I just- I can’t even begin to explain this to you now. I’m going home.”

Nick felt that tug at him a bit. Timothée told him everything, sometimes to a degree that was uncomfortable. However, he continued to refuse to speak about you and what had caused all this tension between you. He stood and watched his best friend’s lanky form disappear around the corner, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

***

The next day, you woke up in your husband’s arms from dreams that made you wish you could sleep all day. Flashes of bouncing brunette curls and honey-pot eyes made you ache to your very soul. However, that was pushed to the back of your mind as James’ blue eyes blinked open, feeling you shift in his arms. “Hello, dollface,” he smiled, his voice rough with sleep and his stick-straight, black hair sticking his way and that, making you laugh softly.

“Good morning, Jamesy,” you smiled. Giggles escaped you as he began pressing tickling kisses along your neck before slipping out of bed and heading into the en suite bathroom in all his naked glory. He was handsome, charming, and a businessman, but now, it suddenly felt like something was missing. Perhaps there always had been. You stood, cursing yourself silently and pushing the corrosive thoughts away once again. You followed after him, slipping into your silky kimono before allowing your hands to snake around his middle while watching him carefully shave his face in the mirror.

“What’s gotten into you this morning?” he chuckled, feeling you press kisses along his shoulder.

“I just… miss you, sugar” you murmured, pressing your nearly naked body against his. This made it obvious to you when he tensed up, rejecting your touches.

“Sorry, toots, don’t have time to play. I’ve got to meet up with a new girl today.”

You cringed at his words, retracting from him to rest your back against the wall, your robe drawn tight and your arms crossed over your chest.

Seeing your face in the mirror, he quickly rephrased. “A new act, darling, a new act.” You just sighed and left the bathroom, a scowl on your face. He didn’t make it any easier for you to pretend you weren’t still thinking about the night before.

***

Nick hung up the phone and stood, slipping on his jacket.

“Where are you headed? Don’t tell me you’re still out chasing that bearcat, are you?” Timothée questioned, a tired but teasing look on his face. He sat cross legged on the floor with his shirt sleeves cuffed up to his elbows and his hair disheveled as he read over a new script. A hundred fine, luxury options for seating in his home, and yet he chose the rug next to the fireplace every time. Nick had never seen him look quite so aged.

Nick laughed, shaking his head. “Mildred? I’m afraid she’s engaged to marry next weekend,” he said in a bittersweet tone.

“Ah,” Tim replied awkwardly. “Don’t worry about it, Nick. You’ll find her soon.”

However, his girl problems were far from the first thing on Nick’s mind. He had just received a call informing him that he was invited to join his cousin for lunch. Before Timothée could ask more questions, he gave him a curt nod and left the room, travelling down the long flight of stairs to the front door. Thoughts swirled in his mind as he hailed their driver. He figured you had seen him with Timothée the night before, and that was what had prompted your call. Perhaps he’d have better luck getting information out of you than he had with Timothée. He hopped into the backseat, relaying the address you’d given him to the driver, trying to put the pieces together.

Meanwhile, you were preparing for his arrival. You wore a simple shift dress with a long string of pearls and wave in your hair as you laid out on the loveseat.

“Why are you having him all the sudden? Hasn’t he lived in the city for awhile now?” Jordan asked, sitting down on the coffee table in front of you.

“Well... because I’m setting you two up, of course!” you replied with a teasing grin, feigning innocence. You weren’t sure if even you knew your true intentions behind having your cousin come to visit, if you were honest with yourself.

On cue, the doorbell sounded.

Nick was greeted by the butler who kindly welcomed him and escorted him into the parlor where you were chatting idly with Jordan. You sat up, peeking at him over the back of the sofa. “Cousin Nicky! Oh, you are so much taller than I remembered you! My goodness, just look at you! You are a real charmer now,” you beamed, making him blush and look at his shoes a bit.

“Oh, stop it, Y/N,” he grinned. You hopped up, hurrying over to him and enveloping him in a tight hug. Something about seeing him eased anxiety pinching in your chest. Nick grinned and hugged you back, relishing how familiar you were to him even after so long.

“Look at me? Look at you! You’re a star, darling,” he flattered, giving you a little spin and making you giggle. Nick felt the warm glow radiating off of you that always lured everyone in, making you so irresistible. However, unlike the others, he could also still see that little girl who had performed loud and proud to all their captive family members at every Sunday brunch. You’d always been a crowd pleaser, often to a fault.

Jordan cleared her throat a bit, reminding you of her presence. “Oh, yes! Nicky, this is my best gal, Jordan,” you said, gesturing to her. She approached Nick, allowing him to take her hand and press a gentle kiss against the back of it. Jordan was tall with an athletic build and an overwhelming aura of confidence. He had short, black hair that framed her sharp facial features, but warm eyes full of mischief. Nick was instantly intrigued and also incredibly intimidated.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she smiled, trying to play nice though it was hardly in her nature.

“The pleasure is mine,” Nick replied coolly, giving her his charming smile.

The afternoon was spent over tea and sandwiches and scones, the three sharing many laughs and stories, becoming acquainted with one another. The girls spoke of show biz while Nick expressed his newfound interest in writing.

However, you were all interrupted by the arrival of the man of the house. You stiffened a bit at first but quickly slipped back into yourself. “Darling, you’re home!” you cooed, hopping up and wrapping yourself around his arm.

James grinned, giving you a little spin, completely opposite of his attitude that morning. “Hello, doll,” he hummed, pulling you to meet his lips.

Nick tried to hide his shock and sipped his tea. He felt silly for thinking she lived in this big house alone, but he really hadn’t even considered a husband being in the picture. He took the man in as he stood to shake his hand; he was average height with a stocky gait and, though he was dressed as a businessman, he was clearly disheveled and smelled of alcohol. Jordan let out a little sigh at his presence before getting up and fixing a cocktail.

Nick struggled not to grimace as James took his hand, giving it a hardy shake. “You must be Nicky, my girl’s cousin. Nice to meet you. James Elliot is the name” he greeted.

“It’s just Nick, actually, but it’s nice to meet you too. I’m afraid I really should be going-“

“Oh don’t be ridiculous! You must stay for dinner,” you interjected, hoping he could sense your underlying tone.

Nick forced a little smile. “Alright, Y/N. I would hate to be a burden.”

The group gathered around the table making idle chat over a chicken dinner. You giggled over James’ every word and spoke as if everything was a shade of rose, nauseating Nick and Jordan who kept matching sideways glances at each other. It was as if you were playing a scripted role. About three quarters of the way through dinner, however, the phone rang from the parlor, silencing you in the middle of your story. Nick sensed tension settle over the table and watched curiously as James hopped up to answer it. He quirked a brow at Jordan, but she simply shrugged and sipped on her wine. You were quiet for the first time that evening, looking down at your food with sickness settling in your stomach. Nick could see that James was smiling into the phone before he hung up and returned to his place at the head of the table.

“Who was calling, James? It seems a bit late,” Jordan questioned.

“Oh, just business,” he replied nonchalantly.

The phone began to ring again.

You audibly sighed, giving James a look. Every night, it was the same game; only this was even more humiliating with your cousin there. You never asked because you didn’t want to know. Maybe because you already did. He placed a warning hand on your shoulder and squeezed as he brushed by to go answer the phone for the second time, making your hands shake.

As James left again, you stood, deciding you’d had enough. You stepped out onto the patio attached to the dining room and fought to breathe. The anxiety attacks had come for about as long as you could remember, but they’d recently evolved into near episodes. Your knuckles were white around the railing as you stared across the bay through tear-fogged eyes, trying to get a grip. You barely registered the sound of Nick stepping out onto the balcony with you.

“Y/N, are you alright? What’s wrong, darling?” He couldn’t help but feel protective over you despite all the time you’d spent away from each other.

You swallowed the knot in your throat, trying to focus enough to speak. “I think everything is pretty terrible, Nicky.”

He took your hand in his, his back against the railing as he faced you with pleading eyes. “Why do you say that?”

“I have everything. I found everything I wanted in life, but it’s never enough.” You continued to stare blankly out at the water. “I fight every day to stay ignorant, to be a beautiful fool. That’s the best thing a girl can be in this world.”

Nick watched you sadly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. Never could he have imagined the girl he’d seen on the stage the night before coming home to be the wilted flower before him. He gently tugged on your hand, pulling you into a hug. You relented, feeling some of the tension release from your chest as you exhaled against his shoulder. Nick was just as safe as you’d remembered.

***

After a few awkward, tension-filled goodbyes, Nick and Jordan were escorted out to their drivers.

“It was nice to meet you,” Nick said, trying to be polite despite the obvious discomfort the evening had brought.

“He’s sneaking around with girls from the club,” she said bluntly, stopping Nick in his tracks.

He stared at her dumbly, trying to understand.

“I thought everyone knew,” she sighed, kicking at the gravel. “You know he owns the speakeasy, don't you? He’s sneaking around on Y/N, but she won't confront him because she’s afraid he won’t let her keep performing. He’s given her everything she has here.”

Suddenly, everything you had said on the balcony made sense. Nick ran his hand over his face, still speechless. “I-I just.. wow, um-“

“Yeah.” Jordan was your only confidant through everything that had been going on, and though she carried the weight like a champ, she did ache for you. The only reason she didn’t take things into her own hands was for your sake. “Well, Nick. I’ll see you around,” she said finally, giving him a sad smile before climbing into her cab. Nick did the same, feeling about a thousand pounds heavier than when he had arrived. It wasn’t until then that he remembered his mourning roommate back home. How was he going to relay all of this to him? Letting out a sigh, he laid his head back against the headrest, watching all the people and twinkling buildings pass by outside his window. Perhaps it could all just wait until tomorrow.

When he finally made it back to the mansion, Nick dragged himself up the stoop and inside. As he made his way up the staircase on his way to his room, he spotted Timothée in the same place he’d left him. He was gazing into the fire now with his script abandoned beside him.

“Aye, Tim. What are you still doing up?” Nick asked, leaning around the doorframe. Tim jolted and groaned, rubbing his eyes, clearly startled by his roommate’s return. Nick made his way upstairs toward his room, ready to be out of his suit and not yet ready to tell Timothée where he really had been and what he had learned while he was there.

Timmy held his head in his hands, his elbows propped against his knees. He’d spent the whole night concocting ideas of how he could see you without actually having to see you. All this along with feeling sorry for himself, of course. He’d imagined seeing you again for the past five years and yet, now that it was actually right before him, he had no idea what to do. He stood up with a heavy sigh, anger building internally with himself. Sipping down what was left of his whiskey, he resolved what he had to do.

Long legs carried him swiftly to Nick’s bedroom door where he knocked softly before opening it.

Nick raised a brow, in the process of getting changed. “What is it?” he questioned, seeing the slightly wild look in Timothée’s tired eyes.

“I need you to do me a really big favor.”

TAGLIST: @londonmademedoit @cathyoliveros10

[hockeylvr59]

Promises Part 6 || Auston Matthews/Morgan Rielly

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: Another piece I have been sitting on partially completed for a decade and a half. This was not how I had planned on things going at first but well...my brain changed its mind and then this practically wrote itself. Team Auston v. Team Mo….let me know. ;)

Warnings: some cursing, illness, angst

Word Count: 3,245

~~~~~~

You’d spent the entire weekend ignoring Auston. Instead of spending your entire day at his place, you’d asked Maria to work daytimes and only gone over the evening that Auston had a game, arriving after he’d already left for the arena and settling into bed before he got home. You knew you shouldn’t be but you were still angry at him for the way he’d acted and the fact that he hadn’t even attempted to apologize. 

Tonight was your date with Morgan and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Your focus during class was at an all-time low and you spent every minute you had outside of class trying to decide what to wear. Morgan had said to wear something between casual and fancy and that was a very broad spectrum. Dresses had never been your friend, they always made you feel fat because they left your thick thighs and lower legs on display. Jeans were always what you felt most comfortable in but you weren’t sure if that was too casual. 

It was already three pm and you still had no clue what to wear. Flopping back onto your bed, you tried not to cry in frustration. Either you had the worst or the best luck because at that moment your phone rang, Ema Matthews’s name lighting up the screen. You sniffled a bit as you answered the phone and she quickly picked up on it asking if everything was okay. 

“I’m fine. Just hating my body right now.” The words had left your mouth before you could censor yourself and Ema’s motherly clucking reached your ears. 

“Does this have something to do with a certain date tonight?” She asked, tone slightly teasing but comforting at the same time. When you didn’t respond, feeling slightly guilty, you could hear her sighing softly. 

“You’re allowed to go out and have fun, y/n. I’m happy and excited for you. Morgan is a good guy who, from what I’ve heard, clearly adores you, he’ll treat you right. I know you have feelings for mi niño idiota (my idiot son) but give Morgan a chance.” 

“I want to...I’ve been thinking about the date all day. My silly self-conscious thoughts are currently taking over though because I’ve been struggling all day to figure out what to wear. I feel like jeans are too casual but dresses make me feel fat and I want to look good.” Your tone was defeated and you hated feeling this way but all attempts to push past it had failed thus far. 

Your phone vibrated in your hands and you couldn’t help but smile seeing that Ema had requested to switch to facetime. Accepting the request you adjusted your phone while wiping at your eyes. 

“Show me your closet dear. We’ll find you something to wear.” She assured you. You were grateful that she didn’t comment on your insecurities but instead simply wanted to find a solution. Your closet was a bit of a mess from digging through it off and on all day but you slowly scanned your phone around it to give Ema an idea of what you had. You were by no means a fashionista so there really wasn’t much of a selection. “Grab those teal pants.” Ema directed and you pulled out the hanger, laying it on your bed. They weren’t technically jeans but a little bit nicer of a pant and you wondered why you hadn’t thought about them before. 

Ema had you pick out a few blouses, showing her what they would look like with the pants and asking about which were ones you were more comfortable in. Eventually, she settled on a simple black blouse that had ¾ length sleeves. Since you weren’t much of a heel person she directed you to wear your black toms flats and after looking over your jewelry simply picked out a single strand pearl necklace that you’d been given for your undergraduate graduation. 

“What’s the weather like there today dear?” She asked and when you told her it was mid-40s she mentioned grabbing the tan cardigan that was also hanging in your closet as an extra layer in case you got cold. “You’re going to look beautiful. I’ll let you go so that you can do your hair and makeup even though you don’t need to. Take a deep breath and have fun.” She declared and following her direction you focused on your breathing. 

“Thank you, Ema...I really appreciate your help.” You murmured. 

“It’s not a problem. Make sure to send me pictures so that I can torture my son with them.” She teased causing you to laugh softly before assuring her that you would and hanging up. 

----

It was almost 5:30 before you had finished curling your hair and applying light makeup. Morgan was supposed to pick you up in half an hour and you still needed to change and calm your nerves. Quickly you turned some music on, wondering why you hadn’t thought of it before. The sound of the music caused you to relax a little and within fifteen minutes you were dressed. After applying some essential oils to your wrists and neck as perfume, you slid all your necessary items into a small crossbody purse and moved to the couch to wait for Morgan to arrive. 

Thankfully, a knock sounded on your door right at six and after mentally yelling at yourself to stop your hands from shaking you quickly moved to answer it, smiling as the tall defenseman appeared in front of you. He was wearing a simple pair of black pants and a grey button-up and his left hand contained a small bouquet of flowers. Looking him over your heart rate spiked and when his voice reached your ears commenting on how beautiful you looked you felt your cheeks flush with warmth. 

“You clean up well too, though everyone kind of already knew that.” You murmured, reminding yourself to breathe. 

“Oh, these are for you…” He trailed off, having realized that the flowers were still in his hand. Taking them from him you couldn’t help but smile and motioned for him to come inside while you moved to put them into a vase. 

“They’re beautiful, thank you.” You declared, cutting the steps quickly to arrange them while Morgan looked around your living room. With not really living there half the time it was pretty clean thankfully. Pictures of your family and a few of Owen and Auston are scattered around various surfaces and while it seems normal to you, you can’t help but worry that it will seem odd to him. 

He didn’t say anything as he finally came around to lean across the breakfast bar in front of you though. Tossing the excess stems, you wiped your hands on a dishtowel before setting the vase up on the counter of the bar. “All set.” You stated, moving around to the other side of the counter. Morgan’s hand slipped into the curve of your lower back in a guiding motion and after settling from the initial jolt you flushed as another feeling of pure warmth flooded up your spine. 

When you reached his car, Morgan opened the door for you and helped you in before heading around to the driver’s seat. As soon as he started the car, soft music flooded through the speakers and you smiled at the song that was playing over the radio. The drive to the restaurant was quiet but it wasn’t awkward and when you arrived Morgan gave his name to the hostess and the two of you were led back to a corner table. Its location hid you from prying public eyes and you were grateful because you’d surfaced in a few photos with Auston and the social media response hadn’t been so good. You didn’t want to think about what it would be like in a setting that was clearly a date. 

When the waiter came by the first time Morgan ordered wine for the two of you. Looking around the restaurant you smiled seeing that it was nice but not overly fancy to where it made you feel uncomfortable. Alone again, Morgan insisted that you order whatever you want and after it was clear that you’d made a decision he asked about school. Though you weren’t sure how this date would go, you were surprised at how easily you got along with Morgan. He was kind and attentive and his questions showed that he really was listening and interested in getting to know the bits of you that didn’t involve you taking care of his teammate's baby. 

As you sipped on wine and ate some of the best Italian food you’d ever had in your life, you chatted with Morgan about your childhoods, your interests and your plans for the future. In turn, Morgan shared stories about himself, making you laugh repeatedly and filling your heart with a feeling that you wanted so many more nights just like this. 

Morgan had been trying to convince you to order dessert, claiming that if you ordered it he could steal some but that his trainer wouldn’t have to know when your phone started ringing from inside your clutch beside you. It was a ringtone attached to Auston and you groaned audibly murmuring an apology to Morgan as you reached inside to stop the device from making noise. 

Auston had to know that you were on a date and it made you angry that now he was calling when he hadn’t bothered in days. The second you silenced your phone it rang again and when you declined the call immediately it rang a third time. Shaking your head you completely silenced your phone before tossing it back into your purse. From across the table, Morgan sent you a concerned look. 

“Auston is just being a pain. I’m sorry.” You murmured. The second the words left your mouth Morgan’s phone rang and after showing you that it was Auston calling him as well, Morgan answered. 

“Dude...she’s made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want to talk to you right now.” Morgan immediately stated but even from across the table you could hear the pained screams of a baby through the phone. 

“Put her on please…” Auston begged him and with a sigh Morgan handed the phone to you, both of you slightly alarmed by the sound of Owen in the background. “Fuck Y/N. I’m sorry. You’re pissed at me and you have every right to be but please...Owen has been throwing up and I don’t know what to do.” He murmured and you could hear the fear in his voice. Glancing across the table Morgan sent you a supportive nod and you sighed. 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Do you have a thermometer to take his temperature?” You questioned. Across the table, Morgan was flagging down the bill and by the time you were off the phone with Auston, Morgan was offering you a hand up from the table. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered to him as you handed his phone back. “I can take an uber over if you want.” You added not wanting to drag him into the mess that seemed like it was going to continue to follow you despite how wonderful tonight had been. 

“Don’t be silly.” Morgan insisted, his hand falling to your lower back as he led you out of the restaurant. “Do we need to stop at a drugstore?” He questioned and you merely nodded at him, worry growing in the pit of your stomach. Owen was still so small and his immune system was even weaker than most babies due to the circumstances of his birth and not being breastfed. As you reached Morgan’s car, he simply pulled you close to him for a hug. “He’s going to be okay.” He insisted and within a minute you were tucked into his car as he drove to the nearest drugstore. 

When he pulled up out front, you promised that you would be back in just a minute. Morgan murmured to take your time and you quickly hopped out, bursting into the store to search for the aisles containing what you needed. After a few minutes, you had picked up some Pedialyte, a temporal thermometer, and a thing of baby pain reliever just in case. It wasn’t long after you climbed back into Morgan’s car before you had arrived at Auston’s building. 

With Morgan following, you headed upstairs and let yourself into Auston’s apartment, the sound of Owen screaming immediately filling your ears. Auston was attempting to rock him, standing in front of the tv and after dropping the shopping back to the couch, you immediately reached out for the infant. Auston didn’t hesitate in handing him over and you quickly dropped your lips to Owen’s head. He felt slightly warm but not overly so, but the fact that he had been throwing up worried you more than anything. Rubbing his back you just tried to soothe him, the ache in your stomach growing even more. 

“Can one of you open the thermometer for me and can the other fill up one of Owen’s 4 oz bottles with some Pedialyte?” You questioned. It seemed like it was only then that Auston realized that Morgan had come with you though he obviously had known the two of you had been out together. Thankfully though, neither said a word as they worked to do what you had asked, everyone’s efforts fully on taking care of the baby. 

Owen’s screams had quieted a little bit by the time Morgan handed you the thermometer and after running it across Owen’s forehead you sighed in relief. He had a slightly elevated fever but it honestly wasn’t anything to be too concerned about though he did seem paler than normal. 

“Shhh.” You attempted soothing him once more, this time singing softly to him until his eyes were peering up at you but not a sound fell from his lips. “That’s a boy.” You praised, now noticing Auston standing behind you with the small bottle. “Let’s see if we can get you to drink a little something. It’ll make you feel better.” You murmured and after adjusting him in your arms you offered him the bottle. The moment he saw it he started fussing again and you bit your lip, thinking. It took a few more tries for him to take it but when he noticed that it wasn’t his normal drink he sucked eagerly. 

“Hey, Auston...bring me his formula?” You requested and though he seemed puzzled Auston did just that. Looking over the side of the container you gasped and everything suddenly made sense. “When did you pick this one up...and from where?” You questioned. Though Auston answered it was clear that he didn’t understand why you were asking. 

Handing the container back you murmured for him to look at the date and when he did he cursed softly. “Language.” You reminded him softly, just grateful that Owen seemed to at least be feeling a little bit better now. You knew Auston was now blaming himself and you sighed, brushing your fingers over the light hair on Owen’s head. “It’s not your fault Auston...but it is something you need to be aware of in the future.” The formula was nearly a year expired and after seeing Owen’s behavior you were certain that it had been making him feel sick which was why he’d been throwing up. 

“You need to take it back to the store and demand a replacement.” You directed. “Maybe not tonight but if you don’t have any other formula that’s good then you do need to get something because he can’t drink Pedialyte all night.” For one little feeding, it was okay, it would keep him hydrated and settle his stomach but it was not going to give him the nutrition he needed to be used any longer than that. 

With a sigh, Auston murmured that he would be right back and you heard him grab his keys and wallet before walking out the door. It was only once he was gone that you sat down with Owen on your lap now babbling happily since he had finished the Pedialyte. Once you were seated you felt Morgan approach before sitting next to you. 

“I’m sorry our date was ruined.” You whispered, not wanting to startle the infant who was slowly drifting off, exhausted from his screaming fit. 

“Our date wasn’t ruined…” Morgan insisted, his hand resting gently on your knee as he watched you care for Auston’s child. “You love him don’t you?” He questioned after a moment. 

“Of course I love Owen...he’s pretty hard not to love.” You declared, kissing his soft head and smiling as he clung tighter to you in response. 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. You love Auston.” Morgan stated softly causing you to sigh. 

“It wouldn’t matter if I did Mo.” You breathed, though you were slightly uncomfortable talking about it. “I’m on a date with you, aren’t I? Or at least I was…” You trailed off. 

“Hey….it’s okay.” Morgan insisted. “Just because you love Auston doesn’t mean that we can’t enjoy our time together. And if I can help you make Auston see sense well then all the better. You’re a special woman y/n. You deserve to be happy.” He declared and you watched as he rubbed a large hand over Owen’s back. “And even if I can only make you happy for right now...well that’s at least something.” 

Turning your head you couldn’t help but take Morgan in for a moment, he was such a wonderful man and you really didn’t know how to process everything he’d just told you. Leaning forward you pressed your lips against his lightly, feeling him smile against you. “You’re gonna make some woman very very lucky someday.” You assured him. 

“Does that mean I can make you happy until then?” He questioned teasingly. 

“If you’re willing to deal with all of this bs...I’d like nothing more Mo.” You murmured, kissing him softly once more, letting it linger until you pulled away needing to breathe. 

“Perfect. Do you know how to skate yet?” Morgan questioned looking shocked when you admitted that you didn’t. “Then that’ll be date two.” He declared, bright smile on his face. “Are you staying here tonight or going home?” He asked after a moment and you sighed thinking about it. On one hand, you were certain Owen was going to be fine, on the other you weren’t so sure Auston wasn’t still going to be freaking out which would cause Owen to feel unsettled and upset. Seeing the look on your face, Morgan kissed you one final time before standing up. 

“Stay here tonight. Make sure the little dude is okay and that Auston doesn’t lose his mind. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He stated, his hands dropping to fall into his pockets. “I had a really good time tonight. So don’t go overthinking it.” He teased, causing you to nod in agreement, standing up to see him out. 

Once Mo was gone, you laid Owen down in his crib before collapsing back onto Auston’s couch. Tonight had just made everything even more complicated and you groaned unsure of how all of this was going to play out. 

Chapter outfit: 

[tortoisesshells]

Six Sentence Sunday: Buying Time (1/3, ~1450 words, some salty language, people coping with grief poorly)

this was supposed to be modern!fake-dating!AU for Customs and Duties, but, so far, there’s no dating, fake or otherwise - just a lot of pottering around an antiques shop, with a side helping of cocktail-party knowledge of clockmaking and 19th century US naval scandals. I have a plan. maybe. I also may be sorry.

The first time Nellie Treat met James Norrington, esq., he was already drunk at 2:30 on a winter Tuesday. It was Tuesday simply because it was the day after Monday, and it was 2:30 because sometime after lunch the new-old naval clock had struck five completely uninspiring bells – and it was still light outside. A sixth bell rang from the door swinging open, and Nellie had glanced up from her unending round of correspondences and deep-internet trawling to see a tall, cleanshaven man glancing about himself with complete bewilderment, as though he’d been expecting Narnia – or maybe a drop into a bottomless pit.

“Welcome,” Nellie’d said, with her polished customer-service smile, “Can I help you find something specific? Do you have an inquiry?”

“I drank too much,” the tall man replied, gesturing vaguely behind himself down the main drag, to any number of establishments, “I’ve walked around for an hour but I left my coat somewhere.” He paused expectantly, as though what he said had made any sense whatsoever.

Unbelievably (or maybe believably – she was a widow with two children and wasn’t getting any younger, and it wasn’t like she got out much), this had been the start of a fairly interesting friendship  –

Even if he had spent the next hour rambling about the duel between Decatur and Barron and the Chesapeake-Leopard Affair.

*

What Nellie Treat learned about James Norrington, in fairly short order thereafter, was this:

(1) He was a graduate of Princeton, Yale, and Harvard, in some combination of B.A.s and M.A.s and J.D.s which, as a proud graduate of a state school, she forgot as quickly as she could,

(2) He had upper-class-WASP-male-appropriate love of all things maritime, which led her to believe there was probably a daysailer, at the very least, in a marina somewhere, and she would have bet Sam’s grandmother’s pearls that there was at least one model ship in his office, and a collection of Samuel Eliot Morison’s histories on his shelves, somewhere,

(3) He’d just been dumped by his fiancé at a political fundraiser luncheon in Boston, which didn’t precisely explain why he was here. “95,” was the closest thing she’d gotten to an answer, which she supposed was technically correct, and,

(4) He was both sharp and a little stuffily polite, because not two days after their inauspicious first meeting she’d received an immaculately-penned note thanking her for her coffee, her argument, and her kindness. A few days later came a formal inquiry through her shop’s email: he was looking for a shelf clock from a particular Newport maker she’d never heard of. Was this a commission she was interested in undertaking?

Considering Mary had one more year at Stanford, yes. Yes, she was.

*

God, that fucking clock.

*

There wasn’t any particular reason to believe that Elinor Coggeshall would have turned into a respectable antiques dealer, since as a kid the only thing old stuff meant to her was the endless round of family hand-me-downs. Antiques had been Sam’s thing – in part, he guessed, because he grew up around the stuff (that hadn’t been donated to places like the MFA or the Wadsworth Atheneum or even, in the case of his great-great-something-great Uncle’s punchbowl, with its bold maker’s mark, “REVERE”, in the Metropolitan). The other part had been his love of stories and people and the endless revolutions of historical rumor and gossip mills. So, Nellie had married into the business.

And then, after ten years of marriage, Sam started complaining about headaches. Six months later, he was gone.

Ridiculous as it was, she observed some of the old mourning traditions – she lived around the things that had seen it firsthand, over a century ago – and it gave her something to do, covering mirrors and tying black ribbons on her framed photos, and spending an atrocious amount of time on the internet only to discover no one really made mourning crepe anymore, because, well – who did that? Who needed it? She must have worn the same three black turtlenecks and the same two pairs of black slacks for three months, until Aunt B had kindly but pointedly told her she looked more like a beat poet than a widow. Polly and Sam seem pretty relieved, too – and Mary, all the way from Stanford, pointedly sent her a beautiful and brilliantly colored floral scarf, to mark the change.

And business went on. What else was she supposed to do? No amount of crying would ever bring Sam back – and it wouldn’t pay the grief-counseling bills, either.

*

Where the clock was concerned, she had little luck – furniture, really, was what she knew best, and sure, yes, there was a fair amount of overlap between cabinetry and clocks, particularly when, before the mechanization of clock production in the wake of Eli Terry’s innovations, clockmakers had really only focused on the gears and mechanisms, and left the housings to carpenters and cabinetmakers – but she’d never really dealt in clocks besides a novelty one every now and again. That was mostly for her own amusement, anyway – like the naval clock over the door to her office, or the clock in a fake old-fashioned diver’s helmet that she’d found at an estate sale and given to her brother, who laughed for a good fifteen minutes over Skype because of it.

At the end of the first month, she’d sent an email to Mr. Norrington, esq., reporting very nicely and not in so many words, that she’d found sweet fuck-all, but there were these promising leads on clocks similar in build, mechanism, or origin. She didn’t expect any of them were good enough, and, Mr. Norrington emailed back politely that he appreciated her effort, but none of these were correct, and he’d like her to keep looking.

March was much the same, as was April: Mr. Norrington, here are these clocks that aren’t exactly what you’re looking for; thank you, Mrs. Treat, but I’d appreciate it if you continued to look. There were a few more pleasantries from him, with reference to a short article on Decatur, belatedly making the point he’d tried to make but for the scotch those three months ago. It made her laugh a little, even.

May was shaping up to be much the same, save that, shortly before noon – an unimpressive seven bells, that was punctuated, again, by the ring of the shop-door-bell as it opened. “Welcome,” she said, looking up from her emails and list of estate sales she wanted to buzz through either for out of town friends or from her own sense of piratical treasure-hunting – and the intellectual challenge of getting in and out with two children at ten and eight in tow. It had been a good month since her last major commission.

At any road, she’d set aside her pen and paper, looking up with her placid expression, and –

“Ah, Mrs. Treat,” said Mr. Norrington, “Good morning.”

Nellie had a sudden presentiment that he’d come to thank her but dismiss her in person, since he seemed a thorough, conscientious, and probably old-fashioned sort. She probably should have expected that, and she smiled a little more determinedly and plastically as a result.

“Good morning, Mr. Norrington. How can I help you today?”

“I was passing through, on my way to New York,” he said, by way of explanation, “And I wondered, in light of that, and the work you have done for me, if I might not suspend the monthly email in favor of a short conversation?”

“All right.” She gathered her notes and her tablet under her arm, and gestured towards her office at the back of the shop. “It’s not the neatest place in the world, but it’ll do. Do you want some tea?”

“Would you like lunch? On my tab. I’ve never seen so many diagrams of mechanisms and assemblages, and I’ve certainly learned more about hardwoods than I ever expected. You must have gone cross-eyed, Mrs. Treat.”

Nellie protested that it was far too generous an offer, but Mr. Norrington pushed back that he had hardly discharged her – her kindness (he said, vaguely, a little color rising in his cheeks at the memory) towards him, from those months ago.

So, a little while later, that was how Nellie found herself locking up and setting the security system, setting her quaint little Out-To-Lunch sign that Sam had penned in during his calligraphy phase in the door, and poking her head into Hancock’s to tell Lydia that she’d be back in an hour.

[somethingvaguetodo]

Liquid Luck

Ladybug enlists Chat Noir's help in decoding the remaining ingredients for the power-up transformation potions. Together, they work on creating them, and possibly destroying the barriers between them. Read on AO3 here

~~~

Chapter 1: Green

Ladybug sat cross-legged on the roof of Le Palais Garnier under an overcast sky, stirring the contents of a large black cauldron. She was surrounded by piles and cartons of ingredients, some mundane kitchen items, and others that were more unique.

Chat Noir touched down next to her, and she glanced up at his puzzled expression. "Oh, professor, can I be excused? I left my book in Gryffindor tower."

"Har har," Ladybug intoned, gesturing for him to sit next to her. "And stop pretending you're a Gryffindor." Chat scowled at her but settled in, sinking into a similar cross-legged position and peering curiously into the cauldron. Ladybug reached across him for a sprig of mint, tossing it into the pot before grinding in some black pepper.

"Are you making soup?" Chat asked. He tried to dip a claw in, looking to take a taste, but Ladybug slapped his hand away.

"No, you were right earlier," Ladybug told him. "It's Potions class."

She turned to face him fully, letting the potion in front of her settle. "I used up my last aqua macaron running from Miracle Queen's bees. Do you have any aqua cheese left?"

Chat shrugged, but unzipped his side pocket and removed a carton. Ladybug sighed as he opened it, forever upset about his pocket space. Together they looked inside. Most of the colored wedges were full, but there was only a bite left of the green one that allowed an aquatic power up. "Looks like I have enough for one more transformation," Chat answered. "So you're making more potions?"

"Yep," Ladybug chirped, handing him a piece of paper bearing Master Fu's notes. "The grimoire was written in runes that only guardians could read, so luckily Master Fu translated it all before passing the guardianship. Because I took a look at it and have no idea what it says."

"So these are the ingredients for each potion?" Chat asked, reading the list.

Ladybug nodded. "The base of the potion is the same each time, but there are a few extra ingredients that need to be added at the end to make it specific for each transformation. Even translated to French, the ingredients are still kind of in code. See here," she pointed to the ingredients listed beside the green dot, "'branch from the dragon king's garden' is seaweed, and 'secret kept in a shell' is a pearl."

As she told him, she picked a sheet of seaweed out of one container, offering it to Chat. He scrunched his nose in disgust, and Ladybug laughed, dropping it into the cauldron. The potion inside emitted a faint green glow.

Chat's eyes were wide with wonder as he watched the potion, and Ladybug couldn't help but smile. "Here," she said, "you add the next ingredient." She handed him a small box.

He popped it open to see a small pearl inside. "Where'd this come from?"

Ladybug shrugged. "No one said being a guardian comes cheap."

Chat sighed as he pinched the pearl carefully in his claws. "You need to tell me these things so I can buy them." He dropped the pearl in the potion and it hissed, the green glowing brighter. "What other ridiculous ingredients do you need?"

"Actually," Ladybug began, turning away from the potion to face Chat, "I'm not really sure." She reached for the ingredient list she had given Chat earlier. "Master Fu gave me this translation, but it doesn't say what the ingredients are, exactly."

Chat squinted at the list. "These are pretty strange. He didn't give you any clues?"

Ladybug shook her head. "No. And I can't ask Tikki or Wayzz or anyone else because the recipes are always kept secret from the kwamis, in case they end up in the hands of an enemy."

"Maybe I can help out?" Chat sounded hopeful, and Ladybug felt a weight lift off her shoulders. As much as she tried to hide it from Chat - and everyone else - the stress of becoming the guardian was starting to pile up. As of now she didn't have to worry about making the other power-up potions, but it was best not to leave it until an emergency. And Chat, who was always so eager to help and be included, was the only person she knew she could trust with this.

Ladybug reached over and took Chat's hand, giving it a light squeeze. "I'd love it if you would help me with this." In the silence of the rooftop, with the soft green glow reflecting in Chat's eyes, Ladybug felt some of her walls crumbling down. "It's pretty scary having to tackle all of the new guardian responsibilities alone. I know Fu was training me for this, but I never thought it was going to happen this soon. And trying to balance this with my personal life..." she trailed off, not sure what to make of the look in Chat's eyes. "It's just a lot."

The silence hung between them for a moment, but it was comfortable. Chat squeezed her hand, and slid so that their fingers were intertwined. "I want to be there for anything you need, Ladybug." His voice was soft, almost a whisper. "If you need someone to listen, someone to help, or someone to buy expensive potion ingredients, I'm here." He smiled. "I'm your man."

Ladybug smiled, feeling her face flush at his words and trying not to read too much into the warm feeling that pooled in her stomach at the thought that he was hers.

"I know," she answered, not that it had to be said, but just to see how much Chat brightened at hearing it from her.

Chat looked like he wanted to say something else, but after a moment he sent her an easy smile. “So what’s my first job?”

Ladybug disentangled their hands to pick up the ingredient list. “There’s six other potions. Maybe we should split it up?”

Chat scooted closer to read the list from over her shoulder. She could feel the heat of him behind her. “Hmm,” he hummed, and it rumbled in his chest like a purr. “These seem really out there.” He reached around her and pointed to the orange dot. “Like ‘a poison you eat.’ What could that be?”

“I don’t know,” Ladybug answered, turning her head to see just how close he was. He pulled back, but just by a hair. “How about we tackle one potion at a time, and both brainstorm ideas for each clue? Then we can see what works?”

"We can just throw them all in the pot?"

Ladybug laughed, feeling the heaviness between them lessen. "Yeah, it won't hurt to have extra ingredients. We can test every crazy thing you come up with."

Chat grinned, all his teeth showing. "Every single one?"

"Every single one."

Chat rested his chin on her shoulder, and she felt his weight, solid and comfortable. "Which should we work on first?"

"How about blue?" Ladybug suggested. "That's one that we've used before."

"Good call." Chat said. His hair tickled her cheek. "Are we done with the green one?"

Ladybug smiled, moving away from him so that she could look him in the eye. "No, the most important ingredient is missing." She pointed to the paper.

"A tear of joy," Chat read. "What's that code for?"

"Nothing. It's literally a tear of joy. I had to tell Master Fu a bunch of jokes to make him laugh."

"Jokes?" Chat puffed himself up. "Oh, this is exactly what you need me for."

"Chat," Ladybug said, laying a gentle hand on his arm. "When have I ever laughed that much at any of your jokes?"

"But I heard a really good one!" Chat jumped to his feet. "Hawkmoth walks into a bar and orders a soixante quinze -"

"Chat, you told me that one last week," Ladybug interrupted him, "when that bartender was akumatized."

Chat tilted his head to the side. "Did I really? Well, let me think of another one."

"Maybe I should tell you mine," Ladybug suggested, also rising to her feet.

"LB, you have many talents, but telling jokes is not one of them." Ladybug glared at him, and Chat gave her a placating smile. "Remember that one about the one legged jockey? It made no sense."

"You make no sense," Ladybug grumbled under her breath. Suddenly struck with an idea, she grinned. "You know what, we don't need jokes for a tear of joy. I know just how to get one."

Without further explanation she pounced, tackling Chat to the rooftop and straddling his hips. Chat looked shocked, and entirely too hopeful. Ladybug didn't allow herself a moment to think about his reaction before digging her fingers into his ribs and tickling him.

Chat immediately started squirming away from her fingers, but she held on, pinning him to the ground as she tickled him mercilessly. Chat panted, hooted, hollered, and laughed uproariously, and Ladybug continued until she saw the first sign of tears in his eyes. She rolled off of him, grabbing a vial with a stopper from her supplies, and holding it up to his eye. Chat wheezed, one hand clutching his stomach, but let her collect a few of his tears.

Ladybug held up the vial in triumph as Chat pushed himself to stand beside her. "You're cruel," he panted, but smiled at her once he caught his breath. "But you know I love it when you get physical with me, m'lady." He winked.

Ladybug felt herself blush, but refused to acknowledge that. "Just be glad I've got enough here for all seven potions." "Aww," Chat cooed, "Does that mean you won't crawl on top of me next time?"

Ladybug smirked, carefully tipping the vial so that only one drop fell into the potion. "That depends on if you are a good kitten."

A column of glowing green light erupted from the cauldron the moment the tear met the surface of the potion. Ladybug watched Chat's reaction through the light, the glow casting his entire face in green shadows.

As the light died down, Ladybug began packing up. She pulled out two large jugs, separating the potion into each before handing one over to Chat. "This is for you. I'm going to bake some into macarons for Tikki. Do you know how to make it into cheese?"

Chat played with his jug, making the potion swirl around. "No, but it seems like a fun project for Plagg and I to work on." Ladybug smiled at his enthusiasm. She piled her extra ingredients loosely into the cauldron, taking a marker and labeling the vial with a bold 'CHAT'S TEARS' before placing it inside.

"Alright, kitty cat," Ladybug placed the ingredient list on top of her pile, and read from the top. "Since we need a tear of joy for each, I think there's only two ingredients we need to figure out per potion. For the blue, it's 'blossom of snow' and 'domesticated cicer'. Think you can handle that?"

Chat gave a nervous chuckle. "Piece of cake." He took out his baton. "This time next week for potions class?"

Ladybug nodded. "Sounds good." She waved to Chat as he gave a salute, and launched off the rooftop. Ladybug waited on the opera house, watching his back grow smaller in the distance. Sharing this with Chat made her feel lighter, and more confident in her position as the new guardian. Tikki had already alluded to the idea that she was now in charge and could make up her own rules, but it was easier and more comfortable to just follow along with the guidelines that were in place for her entire time as a superhero. Sharing one secret with Chat helped her feel like she was taking the reins, and shaping the guardianship into her guardianship.

With a final sigh, Ladybug picked up the cauldron and started toward home.

[ohwowreallycool]

You Don’t Get the Girl - prt. 2

Part Two - Let me know what y’all think!

STORY SUMMARY: You’re a part of the Avengers now, but not everyone knows your past. That’s okay though, because you don’t know everyone else’s past, either. A relationship forms and he’s your world, but did he take part of your world away?

THIS PART SUMMARY: You’re injured and need to recover. But not all the team is happy that Captain Sir got away - he makes sure that you know.

Read Part One 

You vaguely remember Bucky scooping you up from the ground. The lights on the top of the jet. Being buckled into the seats. Someone screaming “there’s a lot of blood here” A rough, searing pain against your leg. Bumps, so many bumps.

----------

You wake up in an obscenely white room, stretched out on what feels like a piece of cardboard - you quickly realize you’re in the medical bay. Removing the monitor on your finger, you grab the rails lining the side of the bed. Pulling yourself up to sit up straight, you twist to stand,

“Ah, shi-”

“You’re awake!” Bruce turning away form his work to come meet you with a pleasant smile. You try desperately to smile back. “Just go ahead and lay back while we go over some things.”he said, his face now more serious.

“I think I’d rather just stay here, thank you.” your voice rather raspy. When was the last time I got a drink of water? You searched the room, watching all the flashing lights and fast charts, “What the hell happened?”

“Well,” he pushed a few buttons and what not, “there were severe lacerations to your rectus femorus. There was extensive damage to the tissue. Luckily there were no major arteries or veins were hit.” he babbled on.

Meeting his eyes, you raised your eyebrows expecting him to clarify whatever he was talking about. 

“Your thigh got slashed.” You nodded and looked down at your leg, covered in a pearl white sheet. 

Glancing up at him again, you let out a breath before you peel back the edge of the sheet. A large, pink and swollen line stretched across your thigh. The skin around the line dotted with little black stitches.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce’s voice soft and slow, “I did everything I could.”

“No,” trying desperately to laugh, only able to push staggered breath through your teeth, “don’t be sorry.”

“y/n,”

“You didn’t do anything, Bruce.” finally looking at him again and wiping a tear from your cheek that had escaped, “You’ve done nothing but help.” Looking back at your wound; leveling your tone, “How soon can I get back into my room?”

“You don’t have to be strong here.” waiting for you to respond, but you just smiled at him as another tear cascaded down your cheek.

“Well,” he left your side to look at some numbers on a monitor, “your numbers are all good - considering. I think you’d be able to go to your room now if you’d like.”

“Very much.” as you removed the sheet completely now and tried to twist again. A scream stuck in your throat and tears streamed freely.

“No!” he rushed over and grabbed your shoulders, “That’s. . .” he made sure you were steady then began to wring his hands, “There’s one other thing.”

Through restrained sniffles, “What?” Bruce slowly turned his head to look over to the corner of the room. “Oh, hell no.” And he met your eyes again, he held your shoulders tight,

“It’s the only way,”

“But I -” you protested. After a what was not enough time, he simply told you it was stay in the room or do this. He went to the corner and moved the object over to the side of your bed.

“Ready?” moving to help you stand. It hurt, everything hurt - sharp breaths moved the bits of hair that had fallen in front of your face. “It’s okay,”

“Is it?” you met his eyes, and he helped you slide down into the wheelchair.

----------

You adjusted rather well to your “time in the chair” as you so eloquently called it. Doc said that therapy was going well and that if you kept up your rigid 3 times a day schedule, you’d be walking again in no time! The scar tissue was getting harder. Bruce said that was a good thing because it meant it was healing correctly.

----------

“Today’s the day, Doc!” You pushed the wheelchair into his medical room.

“Ah, it is.” he put down his clipboard and walked over to meet you, “How’s it feel?”

“So good!” you smiled and gave you leg a few test-kicks, “In fact it feels better than the other one does.” smiling at him.

“Good.” he shook his head, “You’re still doing therapy for a couple weeks and if there’s any pain I need to know.”

“Sure thang, Doc.” and you turned to walk out.

“One more thing,” Bruce called as you were turning out of the door frame. You held onto the side of the wall and poked your head back into the room,

“Yea?”

“The team would like you to meet them in Conference Room C for a mission de-briefing.”

You stepped into the room fully now, “But I haven’t been on a mission since -”

“That’s all I know,” and you shook your head, spinning on your heels to leave again, “Good luck!”

Why would they want to meet with me about a mission so long ago? And who is “the team,” was that everyone? Actually, I hadn’t seen anyone in the halls recently. But, I mean, it’s not like I’ve been out of my room very often. Well, it will be nice to see everyone again. But still why would they have waited so long to. . .

Arriving at Conference Room C, you walked in and immediately everyone stopped talking. You could have cut the tension in the room with a butter knife. You looked around at everyone on the edge of their seats, Steve standing with his hands planted firmly on the table. 

“So,” you look around the room, “wrong time to walk in or?”

“Please,” Wanda motioned to a seat across from Steve, at the opposite head of the table, “have a seat.”

You forced a smile and small nod before pulling the chair out and sitting down.  

Natasha was the first to break the silence, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good,” you straightened in your seat, “thanks.”

“We’re here to talk about the last mission we all were on.” Steve said lifting his head and looking at everyone.

“Was the information you collected any good?” you leaned forward interested in the answer.

“Very.” Bucky answered coldly, without even looking in your direction. What the hell did I do to deserve that?

You nodded and Steve began recounting the events of the mission. Basically everything you could remember was exactly what Steve was saying, “We got the intended information, and got our eyes on someone a little higher up the HYDRA food chain.” he looked over at Natasha.

“y/n,” Natasha looking at you, “the man who stabbed you, Captain Sir, he’s -”

“Yea, who was that guy?” you turned in your chair to look around for answers,  “What’s his story?” 

Tony stood and began walking in circles around the table, as per his usual routine, “He’s a heavy hitter for HYDRA. A trainer that, apparently, turns out the best of the best. One of the only men with enough HYDRA info to take the whole place down.” 

“So, did we get him?”

“No,” plain and cold from Bucky, again. You glanced at Bucky, unsure of what the attitude was about, “you let him get away.”

“Unfortunately,” Steve speaking louder than Bucky and still leaned over the table edge and looking around the table, “he got away.”

Bucky let out a huffy laugh and leaned back in his chair, propping his boot agains the edge of the table. Everyone looked at him while Wanda began to talk, 

“We’ll get him next time.”

You turned to look at Bucky again, “I’m sorry, I what?”

He leaned forward and looked you right in the eye and drug out every word, “You. Let. Him. Get. Away”

“Buck,” Steve pleading him to stop.

“What?” standing, his heavy boots landing with a thud, “She had his wrist in her hands, draggin him to the jet and then just let go! If she woulda just focused we coulda had ‘im”

“Excuse me?” you stood to face his giant frame, “I’m pretty sure you were there, too.” taking a step towards him.

He met your step, “If I woulda had his wrists, he’d be downstairs right now.”

“Guys. . .” Steve warned.

“Oh common,” Tony now leaning against a wall, “lets see what they’ve got.” You looked at Tony. This wasn’t a joke. 

“Let me get this straight,” turning to face Bucky again,your head bobbing with every argument you presented, “it’s my fault that none of us” motioning to everyone in the room, “got him?”

“You dropped his wrist.” cocking an eyebrow up.

“Well, I didn’t know,” raising your voice and sarcastically lifting your hands in submission, “that I had to be perfect ever single, damn day like the great Sergeant Barnes. Next time I’ll -”

“Sir,” the ceiling rang out, “you’re requested in the lobby by Ms. Potts.”

Tony pushed off the wall and walked out, “Man, just when it was getting good.”

Immediately you and Sergeant Barns erupted into argument again. The room filled with yelling as you two went at it. Your team mates decided to defend different views and yelling at each other now, too. 

“I’ll be sure to try harder next time, Sergeant Barnes!”

“Maybe you should, Miss y/l/n”

“Enough!” Steve raised his voice and waited for silence. “Any of us could have gotten him.” He looked around meeting everyone’s eyes, “We cannot keep blaming each other. It’ll do nothing but pull us apart. We have to trust each other and get stronger together.”

He walked around the chair he never actually sat in and stood behind it, “We’re moving forward.” looking at you and Bucky, “Can you two do that?”

You took a few thoughtful seconds before turning to face him, “Yes, sir.” making sure to lift your head as you spoke.

“Whatever,” Bucky huffed and turned to walk out.

“Buck!”

“No, Steve,” stopping in the door frame to look at his friend, “we’re only as strong as our weakest link.” he hung his head and look up at you - almost with pity, “getting distracted is a weakness.”