#so and so just died I need to switch between it and something cozy

[boxingcleverrr]

Restarting Arrival At Kraghammer is like an emotional fleecy blanket.

[redroomreflections]

The Ghost in The Window Chapter 2

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: As a former child star and one-half of one of Hollywood's most powerful couples, you’re no stranger to the dangers of the spotlight. Life has just begun to settle for you as you navigate motherhood, marriage, and your career. When a fan-turned-stalker gets a bit too close for comfort, everything is turned upside down

Note: Uploading the WIPs too.

W/c: 5.9k

chapter 1

You awoke to the sound of a baby crying and crackling from the baby monitor on your nightstand. You adjusted your position in bed, lying on your side, peeking one eye open to view the screen. For just a few seconds you were hoping that Grace would fall asleep again. Of course, that would be too easy and to no surprise, she’s awake in her crib. You reach out a hand to feel for your phone, finding it under the bundle of blankets, to see it’s only six in the morning. You guess your day would be starting now. It doesn’t take you long to rush to the bathroom to relieve yourself and then make your way to the nursery. You stop at Rose’s bedroom to see her lying peacefully amongst a mountain of stuffed animals in her bed. You close her bedroom door again and leave her to sleep. At least one of you is getting that luxury.

You have Carla on standby when needed but you’d instead do all of this on your own. In the months between work, there’s always something to do. Motherhood was just one of them. It’s your favorite part and though it gets lonely without Natasha here you know she’s never too far away. You step into Grace’s bedroom, tapping the light switch to flood the room, while you grab her from her crib. She’s cuddly this morning as she lies her head on your shoulder.

“First, we get a diaper change, and then Mommy needs her coffee,” You narrate the entire day to Grace. You lie her atop the changing table, one you rarely use, as you quickly get her all cleaned up. “I know that was uncomfortable. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” Her whining dies down to slight sniffles as she looks up at you. She’s enamored by you and your speaking voice. She grabs onto one of the pacifiers lying near her head to press it into her mouth.

Once that’s settled you head down to the first floor where you find Mocha waiting at the kitchen doors to be let out. You unlock the french doors with one and open it wide enough for the Mocha to go and relieve himself.

Next, you try to put Grace in her high chair to free up your hands but she’s having none of it. Her cries of protest are heard, so you keep her on your hip as you prepare a coffee. Using a Keurig is an easy enough process, and you use it efficiently. Grace watches you for a little longer before deciding she’s ready for her breakfast. She tugs at the material of your tank top with chubby hands, hoping to free one of your breasts.

“Mommy’s trying to hurry,” You say. While you wait for the coffee to finish, you go onto the patio to place your planner and phone on the table. You’re honestly doing a lot for a relaxing morning at home. When the coffee’s done, you take extra care to keep it out of arm's reach of Grace. You sit in a cozy spot where you can see the view of Los Angeles from your backyard. The sun had only risen an hour ago and was already shining brightly. It’s a peaceful morning if you do say so yourself. You position Grace in your arms, shifting your tank top up, and wait for her to latch on. Her suckling is steady and strong. She’ll be occupied for the next twenty minutes. You crack open your planner, eyeing the next week's dates as you go over your schedule. You have an outfit fitting and a photo shoot tomorrow, a brunch with friends in two days, and a party that you’re throwing in a couple of nights.

It’s an end-of-summer party that you host annually. Friends and family all get together to celebrate various accomplishments and goals they’ve tackled throughout the summer. You’re honestly just ready for the fun to begin. You spend several months of the year working your ass off and you deserve to celebrate. You open up a notes page on your phone to go through the checklist you’ve been keeping for the past week. You’re having the party here at home so the guest list isn’t too big. Your house is big enough to fit about sixty people. Anything more and it would be bursting at the seams. There’s no real theme. However, you’re bound to call it a summer splash party or something. The invitations have been sent and RSVPs are coming back by the buckets. There’s also catering and a personal chef coming to bring food. When you said a small party you might be lying. This thing may turn out to be something more than you imagined it would be. Those usually turned out to be more fun.

You’re finishing up with your checklist just in time to switch Grace to your other breast. She’s content and happy as she fills her tummy. The next few minutes are spent in silence as you sip your coffee. You should think about breakfast. Natasha is coming home today and you wonder if she would enjoy something homemade or a restaurant meal. Rose loves IHOP and you’re sure neither of them would protest going to the family chain.

Speaking of Rose, the princess is awake, and a tad bit grumpy as she opens the patio doors to come and greet you. She curls into your side, her head on your arm, as she grumbles.

“Oh, is someone grumpy today?” You ask and she nods her head. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Mama’s not here yet,” Rose frowns and you know the feeling. Life is always so much better with Natasha there. You brush her coils out of her face, her bonnet must have fallen off sometime in the night, to see her eyes. She pouts up at you and gets a little annoyed when you smile.

“You’re in luck,” You tell her. “We are going to pick Mama up from the airport in about an hour. I was going to go on my own but you’re awake so you can go too.” You offer and Rose smiles.

“Can we get her flowers?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” You say. “We can pick them up on the way there.”

It was settled. You would be getting Natasha flowers, picking her up from the airport, and then hopefully breakfast. In that order.

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

There’s only one small teeny tiny detail you forgot when it comes to airport runs to LAX. Don’t do them. It’s a confusing and congested airport with twists and turns you never believe. The traffic is always out of this world and you develop road rage at the mere idea of it. Times like now you forget you’re in a place of privilege where you could have utilized a driver to fetch Natasha. It sounds fancy but it’s useful. Though it’s too late now. You park the car in one of the visiting parking garages. You’re sure the paparazzi are somewhere inside waiting for Natasha or some other celebrity to make an appearance as they’re always conveniently waiting for you there. Despite the various rumors from many different sources, you don’t call the paparazzi on yourself. You think it’s inauthentic and a bit dumb. It’s a complete lack of privacy that you’re not willing to participate in. Especially when the kids are involved. Grace has been left at home with Carla while you’ve made an event of your time with Rose. She enjoys being the star of the show anyway.

You help Rose out of the car, holding onto her hand tightly as you grab the bouquet of rainbow roses in the other hand. The walk to the baggage claim isn’t too far. Rose’s little legs struggle to keep up but she doesn’t complain one bit. You receive a text from Natasha letting you know she landed. You send her your love and a reply that you’re here waiting for her. You wait in a corner together where no one will bother you. You push the sunglasses you’re sporting further up your nose as you watch Rose play a game of pretend hopscotch in front of you. She’s wearing matching sunglasses that you think are utterly adorable on her. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone trying to sneakily record. When you look in their direction their device is put away. You offer them a small smile though you would like to do anything but. Perks of the job you guess.

“Rosie, look,” You instruct the four-year-old when you catch a glimpse of Natasha further down. Rose’s head shoots up, unable to see from her vantage point, and so she comes to stand next to you again. You point, handing her the roses to take Natasha. Rose’s entire face lights up when she catches sight of her. Natasha waves and smiles widely when she spots you. She opens her arms wide and kneels to catch Rose when she runs to her. They’re wrapped together in a tight embrace for a few more seconds. Natasha takes Rose in her arms, transferring her to her hip so that she can come over and hug you. It feels good to have her in your embrace. She looks good and smells expensive. It’s a funny thought but everything about her makes you happy.

“Hi,” Natasha greets you with a peck to your lips. “How are you?”

“Good. Everything’s fine,” You smile.

“Mama, we got you flowers see,” Rose holds up the bouquet so that it’s directly in Natasha’s view.

“I see,” Natasha takes the flowers. “I love them so much. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“You’re welcome,” Rose looks around. “Can we go get food now? My tummy is rumbling a lot.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Natasha reaches behind her for her bags. It’s only a few suitcases so you help with the other ones. You walk side by side towards the parking garage. “Hey, Rosie, put your sunglasses down,” Natasha instructs and she does as told. Upon exiting the airport, you’re met with the flashing lights of the paparazzi cameras. Leave it to you to forget to ask for your bodyguard to tag along. Sometimes you conveniently forget that you’re a well-known person and that privacy is a luxury. Natasha holds Rose closer to her as she follows you to the car. Rose goes in first, Natasha helping her with her seat buckles, while you toss the bags into the truck. Overall you’re able to ignore the badgering and borderline inappropriate questions. You climb into the driver’s seat and take extra care to pull out of the parking spot.

“I don’t like those men,” Rose says from the backseat. “They’re always yelling and they are not nice people at all. Right Mama?” She looks for Natasha’s approval.

“That’s right they’re not nice people,” Natasha agrees. “Now do you want to eat at home and get delivery or do you want to go to our favorite restaurant? It’s up to you.”

“IHOP!” Rose cheers. It won’t take you long to get to your destination. If you didn’t count an hour as long. For LA traffic it truly isn’t a long time. You and Natasha have considered moving back to her hometown of Cincinnati. It would be much quieter and way easier to live in. It’s something you’ve thought more about in recent months. No, you’re not ready to give up your career and the perks that come with it. Though you’re always thinking of the girls' safety and happiness too. Rose’s school is here. Her friends, your friends, and your community is here. It would be a big change. A change you’re simply not ready for yet. As much as Natasha wants to leave, you don’t think she’s ready for it yet either.

IHOP is pretty deserted at this time of day. It’s a weekday and everyone would either be working or had something better to do. This was a great opportunity for you to have a family day out. Rose couldn’t contain her excitement as she hops out of the car to hold Natasha’s hand. She practically drags the redhead into the building of the place you frequent. Though there are places with finer dining that is maybe more expensive that you can’t deny her the simplicity that is IHOP.

When you reach the entrance you’re met with a semi-familiar face. You can’t pinpoint it right away but when she introduces herself you understand now.

“Hi, for three,” Natasha requests and she nods. You follow the young girl to a corner of the restaurant where an open booth is. Rose takes the inner area and Natasha slides in after her. You take the other side, crossing your legs, before narrowing your eyes.

“Have we met somewhere before?” You ask and the girl grins from ear to ear.

“We have,” her ponytail bounces whenever she speaks and now you can see that she can barely contain her excitement. It wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you. “I’m Carissa. WildeLover04 on twitter. We’ve met a couple of times now.”

“Oh, wow,” You remember now. Her face has now been engrained in your mind. “You work here?”

“It’s my first week,” She confirms. “I heard the tips over here on this side of town were good. So I applied and got the job on the spot.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Rose reminds you. She taps a picture on the menu to signal she wants pancakes and she’s not willing to wait for a second longer.

“Well, Carissa, congratulations and it’s very nice to meet you,” Natasha adds to the conversation.

“Thank you,” Carissa takes out her pen and pad. She must have forgotten her script because a few seconds later she’s scolding herself. “Right, sorry, silly me. Can I get you guys started with something to drink?”

“I’ll have a coffee, black,” Natasha requests and she looks to Rose for her request.

“Orange juice, please,” Rose chimes in.

“She’s so well-mannered,” Carissa comments as she scribbles down the order. She waits for you to say yours.

“I’ll take a water, thank you,”

“Okay, great, take some time to look over the menu and I’ll make sure to bring those drinks right out to you,” She promises and walks off with a beam.

You wait until she’s out of earshot before turning back to Natasha.

“That girl is like a super fan of mine,” You inform her. Natasha seems interested enough. You give her the entire rundown of everything with Carissa and how big of a following she has.

“Do you find it weird that she works here?” Natasha tilts her head.

“Hmm, no, maybe a little,” You’re not too sure. “It’s not like she would have tried to work here to only see me. I’m sure other public figures come and eat here all the time.”

“She’s a bit awkward but seems harmless,” Natasha shrugs. As long as she remained respectful there should be no problem.

Things are smooth sailing for the rest of breakfast. Rose gets the jr pancake combo that comes with confetti sprinkle-covered pancakes. You get french toast and Natasha gets chicken and waffles. You eat from her plate and she’s all too willing to share. Carissa hovers a little but you just write it off as her being a good waitress. You leave her with a hefty tip and give your goodbyes to the rest of the staff that you’ve come to know. You stop for the bathroom first when you bump into her again. Natasha and Rose head to the car to wait for you. It’s a quick trip and you’re about to wash your hands when she comes in. You give her a polite smile and proceed with your hand washing. She’s on her phone and she’s texting a mile a minute. Suddenly, she looks up at you.

“Hey, um, this may seem weird,” She comes across as shy though you’re beginning to think she’s anything but. “I sent you a bear. I have a friend that works at CAA and I was wondering if you received it. I know you sent a tweet for thanks but I just wanted to make sure Rose liked it.”

“Oh, yeah, I have it. I usually try to keep everything that’s sent to me,” You look at her through the mirror.

“Great, I’m glad,” She looks at her watch. “Thank you for being so nice about everything. I know I’m coming across as creepy. I’m just really happy I got to meet you and everything.”

“No problem,” You say. You think it’s a bit of an awkward conversation to be having in the bathroom. “It’s so nice that you’re so normal. I’ve met a lot of people that don’t keep their cool when meeting me.”

“No, I’m totally chill,” Carissa promises. “I’ve met a lot of celebrities before but you’re my favorite.”

“Thank you,” You take the compliment. “I have to go now but thank you for the kind words.” You slip past her and take the exit. You meet Natasha and Rose in the car. You slide into the driver’s seat again and it’s time to head home.

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

When you arrive home, Natasha keeps the girls occupied while you go for a quick nap. You’re still thinking about Carissa and the conversation you had with her when you get to your bedroom. You reach for the bear that’s been tucked in a corner of your bedroom until now. You checked it for cameras or a mic upon receiving it but now you’re a little paranoid. You don’t want to assume that Carissa has ill intentions but you can never be too sure.

“Everything okay?” Natasha asks as she steps into the bedroom. She eyes the bear and you.

“Peachy,” You take the bear, inspecting it for any unusual stitchings or holes, only to find none. Maybe you’re overreacting. This time you stuff it in the back of your closet where it will stay for the near future.

“What’s that about?” Natasha leans against the dresser with her arms folded. She watches as you stuff the bear into the back of the closet where neither of you can see it.

“It’s nothing,” You shake your head. She probably wouldn’t believe you if you said it.

“Okay,” Natasha takes your word for it. On your way out of the bedroom, she reaches a hand out to catch your arm. She tugs you into her, wrapping her arms around your waist, to keep you there. “I haven’t kissed you today.”

“We kissed at the airport?” You remind her and Natasha plays coy. “I’m sure there are dozens of paparazzi pictures and fan edits to show you.”

“I don't know it’s been so long I’m forgetting what it's like,” She shakes her head and you chuckle. You decide to refresh her memory in another way. This time by leading her to the bed where you gently push her down. She sits with a happy expression on her face. She gives your body a once-over, and the wanton look sends chills down your spine. As you lean into her, you move to straddle her lap, directing one of her hands to your bottom. The first kiss is innocent enough. Short and sweet. A reacquaintance if you will. The next kiss is a little more passionate. A little more heated and definitely a lot more tongue. You breathe through your nose as best you can, letting out a little moan when Natasha bites your bottom lip, and you get lost in the kiss.

“My eyes, they’re burning,” Rose interrupts your makeout session. She covers her eyes with both hands and walks blindly over to the both of you. “No hands in naughty places.” She warns the both of you and you laugh at her words.

“That’s right, Rosie,” Natasha agrees. She moves her hand to a more respectable place. Before either of you realize what’s happening, Rose is pushing you from Natasha's lap to sit.

“I forgot I’m not the only woman in your life anymore,” You roll your eyes in fake annoyance.

“Mama, guess what?” Rose says.

“What?” Natasha plays along. “You got a new doll?”

“Nope,” Rose shakes her head.

“You grew another arm?” Natasha uses her strength to flip Rosie around to search for a new arm.

“No, Mama,” Rose giggles. “I got a hideaway in my room. Want to see?”

“I’d love to,” Natasha allows her to slip from her lap before following her.

“C’mon, Mommy, you too,” Rose toddles back to you to pull you to a standing position. You both walk with her down the hall to her bedroom. Rose’s bedroom is every little girl's dream. At least it was the dream bedroom you wanted when you were younger. It’s a soft pink whimsical-themed bedroom with a twin-sized sleigh bed. Her toys are lined up along her window seat rather than in her toy box. Rose’s bed is made up courtesy of Carla and it’s pretty neat. On one side of the bedroom, she has a tent that she plays in more often than not. There’s her dresser, her closet filled with many dresses and tutus, and her new hiding spot.

It’s a crawlspace. Nothing too huge. Not big enough to be considered an extra room. The walls are the same color as the bedroom. You had a contractor and electrician come to install lights and ensure the room was safe for her to be inside. There’s a mini chandelier-type light that Rose picked out herself. A sleeping bag, some of her toys, and a blanket inside. Natasha crawls in first and then you. You both fit comfortably along with Rose.

“This is really nice,” Natasha looks around. There’s a chalkboard wall behind her and it’s already filled with plenty of drawings from Rose. “I think your new space is fit for a princess.”

“Thank you,” Rose shuffles around her toys to sit. “You’re not too big either, Mommy.” Rose gestures to both of you.

“Nope,” You nod.

“I don’t know Rose this is a whole house,” Natasha pokes her. “Can I move in? Are you going to charge me rent?”

“No,” Rose laughs again. “No grown-ups allowed or even boys.”

“No grownups? Mommy and I are grownups? Can we come in,” Natasha tilts her head?

“Y-yeah but not when the door is closed. That means privacy,” Rose sets the record straight. “And no boys because I don’t have a brother. I want one though.”

“You want a brother?” You raise a brow. This is the first you’ve heard of this.

“Yes, I need a brother so he can teach me how to skateboard,” Rose reasons. She crosses her feet at the ankle and tells you all about why brothers would be nice. “But he can’t live here with us. He can live somewhere else and just visit. Like Peter.”

“There it is,” Natasha nudges you. “She only wants a brother to bend to her every will.”

“At least she knows,” You comment.

“Can we have a tea party now?” Rose suggests. She sits up and begins to rearrange her toys again to make room. There was never a dull moment with her.

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

The next morning is even more hectic than before. You woke up late, completely Natasha’s fault and if she denied it you’d remind her of her insatiable habits. Next, you forgot to pump so you do it in the car on the way to the photoshoot. Roxy talks to you about a campaign she has coming up where she thinks the entire family could join in. You’re about to decline but it doesn't sound like a bad idea.

“It’s for The Children’s Place,” Roxy gives the details. “It won’t be a huge campaign. They have a family collection coming out. The girls would be featured but it wouldn’t be a huge thing.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to run it by Tasha,” You shift uncomfortably. Though pumping wasn’t painful it wasn’t a walk in the park either. You preferred to breastfeed Grace. “You know Rose will let the fame get to her head the first chance she gets.”

“I love that girl,” Roxy laughs. “Did you do anything fun yesterday?”

“Other than have mindblowing sex with my insanely hot wife?” You offer just to gross her out and her reaction doesn’t disappoint.

“I can’t blame you because I did the same,” Roxy shrugs. "Not with your wife. My wife." Roxy laughs and you join in.

“We went to IHOP for breakfast with Rose. There was an interesting interaction with a fan who works there. Carissa.”

“The one that sent you the bear?” Roxy recalls her name.

“That’s the one,” You nod.

“I’ve been keeping track of her account,” Roxy says. “She’s a total fangirl. It’s disgusting.”

“She didn’t seem like the crazed type the few times I’ve talked with her,” You think it over. “Well, not more than usual. She does seem a tad bit obsessed but…”

“As I said I’ve got my eye on her,” Roxy shakes the phone in her hand. “Isn’t that right, Sonny?” Roxy looks to the front seat where your bodyguard, Sonny, is looking out of the window.

“Absolutely,” He replies stoically. He’s always so serious.

“Anyway, are you coming to the party?” You ask Roxy.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss a Romanoff-Y/Ll/N party for the world,” She locks her phone.

“It’s a date,” You release yourself from the shackles of the breast pump while managing to keep your modesty. You ensure the containers are closed before stuffing them into the cooler you’re keeping inside the car. Now you’re ready for the photoshoot.

The photoshoot lasts for about five hours. Your schedule is jam-packed for the day with costume fittings, hair and makeup, and the actual shoot itself. You’re beginning to feel fatigued with the entire process but you know you have to push forward. Anything to make the time go by faster. You’re also scheduled for an interview with USWeekly which is the point of this entire thing. You’re seated in a chair, dressed in an extravagant nightgown, with fuzzy pink slippers on your feet, and Darcy by your side to fix your makeup. You pay as much attention as you can to the interviewer Samantha Daily as she shoots off questions.

“Do you ever get used to being a celebrity?” She asks and you pause.

“No, I don’t think you do,” You answer honestly. “At least for me. There are people that exist that live for the fame and lifestyle and I think Natasha handles it all quite well. As for me, while I enjoy it, fame was never something I was chasing. It’s always been about the craft and the entertainment industry as an art. So, no, I’m always kind of surprised when people know me. It makes it harder but having discernment and understanding what celebrity means also helps a lot.”

“I know as a celebrity there are a lot of crazy rumors,” Samantha inquires and you bob your head. “What’s the craziest rumor you’ve heard about yourself?”

“Hmm, I think each decade there’s a new one,” You genuinely try to think which one is the craziest. “When I was a young teen, you know I had a lot of trouble finding myself and navigating the fame, I was never, you know, wild or disrespectful, but I had my moments. Back then there was one rumor that I lost my virginity on a casting couch. Which implies a lot of things that don’t even describe my character or my personality. It just was not factual and also not something I would have ever thought about doing back then or even now as an adult woman. It was a rumor put out by an actress that lost out on the role we both auditioned for. I mean, she’s apologized since then, but it followed me around for a while. Um, when Natasha and I first began dating people would make up different places where they saw us having sex. Which is inappropriate as rumors tend to be. I’ve heard a lot of ridiculous things. A lot of them involve sex. In our early twenties, we were seen as wild sex symbols that everyone wanted to get a taste of. So I could see where it would come from but a lot of it was just hearsay and it’s very hard to steer away from those types of things when it's out there.”

“That is very unfortunate that young women in the industry have to go through that,” Samantha sympathizes.

“It is and I’m glad now we’re having conversations and you know bringing these things to light,” You agree. “You know being in some of these rooms and knowing that that’s what people think of you is disheartening. They’re not paying attention to the work and they only consider you a body to lust after. It’s dehumanizing.”

You and Samantha discuss a little more off the record before you have more questions.

“Now, I want to pivot over to success,” Samantha begins. “What would you say is your biggest accomplishment?”

“Hmm, I figure I can say something cliche like motherhood,” You toy with the idea. You stop speaking when Darcy needs to give you touch-ups. “I think it’s a different kind of success that is only considered great if you see it that way. I love my children. I love being a mom. They’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I was intentional with motherhood, how I wanted to raise my girls, and how I wanted to be. So the accomplishment for me lies in raising well-rounded and emotionally intelligent humans who have compassion for others and their surroundings. I think that right now they’re so young, I can say that Rose is so polite and so sweet. She’s a joy to have around and she’s helpful. Career-wise, my recent Emmy win was amazing, I got to record an album as a teen. I think every single thing I’ve done has been fulfilling and I wouldn’t say one thing is bigger than the other.”

“That’s a great answer. I love that answer,” Samantha writes your words down in her notebook. The rest of the interview pretty much goes like that. She’s a great interviewer and knows how to get the correct information from you. She isn’t pushy or invasive, and you love her for that. Before you know it your time is up, and the shoot is over. You’ve got some good shots, and you’re sure you’ll be seeing the results in a few months.

For now you could go home and cuddle iwht your babies.

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

A brunch is always an event with you’re with your friends. You’re in a fancy restaurant and having adult conversations with the people you love. It’s been months and maybe even a year since you’ve seen some of the beautiful faces. All of you are at different points in your careers and life and it’s exciting being able to catch up. Wanda Maximoff, a punk rock star, and actress has just ordered her first drink of the morning. You’ve been friends with her since childhood when she played your best friend on your breakout tv show Better Days. Monica Rambeau is a college friend and celebrity hairstylist so you see her quite often. Carol Danvers is a celebrity fitness instructor. Maria Hill is currently a top exec at Netflix. Your lives all surround the entertainment industry though it’s often the last thing on your minds when you meet.

Today the topic is sleazy men and dating. Something you can’t quite add to as you’ve been out of the dating game for six years now. You listen and add input whenever someone questions you but overall you’re happy to be there.

“I think Vis is going to pop the question,” Wanda confesses and you all look at her. She traces a ring around the rim of her cup.

“Why don’t you sound happy about that?” You ask. You know Wanda’s moods and you know her like the back of your hand. You thought she would be more enthusiastic about it. All eyes are on her now as you wait for her to answer.

“I don’t know,” Wanda frowns. “I just don’t think we’re at that point yet. I thought dating older men things would be different. We’ve been together for two years now. I haven’t really thought about marriage to him. Which says something right?” She looks to you for answers and you weigh the options. “I have been struggling with it for a while. He has been hinting at it and I just…I can’t for the life of me understand why it doesn’t make me happy. I want a married life. Kids, a family, nice house. I do love him. I do.”

“I think your feelings are valid,” Carol nods. “Have you ever sat down with him and talked through how you’re feeling?” She steals a fry from Monica’s plate.

They all go over various reasons for Wanda’s hesitance. You on the other hand don’t say anything. That is until she asks.

“Y/n, what do you think?” She waits patiently for you to speak. You would rather not in case she’s not ready for your analysis.

“Wanda,” You start off slowly. “I have watched you with Vision for a while. He’s a great man. Lovely producer. I’ve also watched you with several other men in the past.”

“You’re calling me a whore?” Wanda raises a brow.

“In so many words she kind of did,” Maria sips from her cup. The rest of the group laughs.

“No, no, I’m not calling you anything,” You point the finger at Maria. “I am saying I’ve seen you with men and you never seem as happy with them as you could be. There’s always something holding you back. Which could be a fear of commitment on your end or I know you dabbled a bit in college but have you ever considered that you may actually be attracted to women.”

There’s a moment of silence as everyone takes your words into consideration. That is possible.

“I don’t know if it’s a fear of commitment,” Wanda shrugs. “Maybe we can talk a bit more about the second thing at a later date? I don’t think that’s something I can explore like now.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” You promise. “For now think about whether or not you want a life with Vision and how you want that life to go. We’ll be here either way.”

“Amen,” Monica raised her glass. “Now, about this party. Y/n what should I wear?”

“The party is in two days and you don’t have an outfit?” Your mouth drops open. “Monica what are we going to do with you.”

“Buy me an outfit,” Monica quips.

Brunch with friends turned into shopping with friends and you found yourself an outfit that might be better than the one you chose. You spend time with Natasha and the girls and everything is alright at home. Life is good for you.

On the other side of town, a series of tweets by Carissa is put out into the world.

@Wildelover04: Y/n and Natasha are hosting their annual summer party in a few days. I can’t wait to see everything.

@Wildelover04: Just got a new gig for this week. Can you guess what it is?

@Wildlover04: I’ve met y/n again and she was so lovely. Rose and Natasha are adorable too.

*** added is a picture of Natasha and Rose with their backs turned at IHOP.*****

----> next part

[emeren]

speed racer pt.2 - eren jaeger

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader

word count: 4.3 k 

content warnings: 18+, smut, car sex, possessiveness, choking, dangerous driving idk LMAO

notes: it’s my birthday today! my gift to you all is speed racer pt. 2!!!! pt. 1 is not necessary to enjoy this oneshot, but may help with some context. here is that! 

SUMMARY: eren takes the reader for a drive where he decides to clear some things up about their relationship in his own special way. 

“it’ll be quick; i promise,” eren’s voice brought you from your daydream, head shifting against the cold window to look at him in the driver’s seat. his hair was up, brows furrowed in guilt as he waited for your response. 

you let out a dramatic sigh, reaching to unbuckle your seatbelt. “fine, but i’m not going to wait in the car.” 

“once it’s over i’ll buy you some food,” he rationed, unbuckling his seatbelt the same. you eyed him suspiciously, waiting for the inevitable sexual innuendo to leave his lips. “n’then i’ll take you back to mine and fuck you, just like you want.”

your unspoken agreement with eren had become routine at this point. after your mutually discovered attraction a couple weeks prior, the two of you had spent many a night in his bed, unashamedly basking in your sexual tension. 

the concept of sex buddies hadn’t been one you’d previously dived into, and you would’ve been lying if you’d said you didn’t want to be exclusive. it only made matters worse that eren insisted on doing everything with you at this point, including dragging you to his board meetings for his sponsorship. he was a pain in the ass, but he was a pain in the ass that treated you like his girlfriend. 

you wanted to make it official, but were too scared of embarrassing yourself, so you resorted to enjoying things the way they were. frienemies with benefits, as eren would say. 

“c’mon, don’t be so vulgar,” you responded, slipping out of the car as eren snickered to himself quietly. you hated the fact that his comments made your face heat up. you were beginning to act like a schoolgirl around him, infatuated by your little crush. 

“you know you love it,” eren smirked over the top of the car as he joined you, locking the vehicle. it was dark outside, the stadium brightly illuminated against the navy sky. “what was it you said again? ‘i want this just as much as you do’?”

you scowled, giving his arm a hard shove. he would not let you forget the things you’d said in the heat of the moment. “oh, fuck off.” you snipped. 

eren laughed again, jokingly rubbing his arm as the two of you walked up to the stadium. it was around eight, the building being nearly vacant save for the members of eren’s sponsorship board inside. 

“what’s the meeting about?” you asked as he held the door open for you, a gush of air conditioning making you shudder. 

“if i’m being honest, i don’t know,” eren replied, his eyes settling past you. as you turned your head, you saw a group of exhausted looking men in worn grey suits talking quietly amongst themselves. they stopped whispering at the sound of the door opening; a short, balding man making his way over. 

“mr. jaeger, thank you for coming on such short notice,” his voice was thick as he spoke, obviously a smoker. eren reached out to shake his hand, the man’s beady eyes settling on your face as he did so. “i’m sorry, but we won’t be allowing any unauthorized people in this meeting.” 

startled, you looked to eren, whose face did all but curse at the short man. “do you mind waiting out here?” 

“oh, yeah, no biggie,” you smiled reassuringly. he shot you a look of gratitude, mouthing the words “i’m sorry” as he walked off with the group. it was funny to watch him go; surrounded by serious men in suits while he wore jeans, a sweatshirt, and a pair of sneakers. not to mention he was about a foot taller than the rest of them. 

a sigh escaped your lips as they disappeared around the corner. the building was ominous when you were alone; large and vacant, normally filled with people excitedly bustling to watch a race. without the energy, it was downright creepy. 

you decided to stand against the wall while you waited, anxiously toying with the hem of your skirt and counting the number of fluorescent bulbs that flickered in the ceiling. 

the distant rumble of talking suddenly hit your ears, head snapping in the direction of the sound. it was getting louder, obviously two people approaching. you readied yourself to launch into an explanation as to why you were sitting alone in the stadium, after hours, only to be pleasantly surprised at who rounded the corner. 

“yo, what’re you doing here?” connie cried out in excitement, a smile splitting across his face. he was with jean, the two of them spattered with engine oil and dirt. 

you grinned back, pushing yourself off the wall to meet them halfway. “eren had a sponsorship meeting and dragged me along. what about you guys?” 

jean smirked at your response, sharing a look with connie that went unnoticed by you. “well, connie accidentally told the boss that we don’t know jack-shit about car mechanics, so now we have to go to a stupid workshop five days a week.” 

“hey, it’s not my fault he was eavesdropping on our conversation with armin,” connie retorted, coming to stand beside you. you smiled at your friends, happy they were there. “we’ll wait with you, if you want?” he proposed. 

“that’d be great,” you sighed. “eren said they’re usually only like thirty minutes long, so we won’t be here all night.” 

“about that,” jean started, uncomfortably bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. you frowned, wondering where he was going with this. “are you and him, like, y’know...” 

you paused for a moment, deciding to play dumb. “huh?” 

“are you and jaeger-meister dating?” connie interjected, wiggling his brows. despite knowing that this is where the conversation was going, you couldn’t help the wave of embarrassment that washed over you. you shifted uncomfortably in place, looking between your friends. 

“i don’t know,” you answered honestly. “i can’t tell if he likes me or not. god, this is so high school.” you muttered. 

jean gave you an apologetic smile, opening his mouth to speak before connie decided to give his own advice. “huh? why wouldn’t he like you? you’re a hot piece of ass!” 

a laugh escaped your mouth at his idiocy, jean dishing him a scowl. “don’t listen to him. personally, i can’t see why you’d want to date that little shit.” 

“yeah, it’s pretty embarrassing,” you replied demurely. 

“well, if you like him that much, i say go for it,” connie shrugged. you eyed him warily, waiting for the ‘but’. the three of you stood in silence for a moment longer, considering what to say next. 

“do you want my help?” jean asked apprehensively. he looked put-off by something, but you couldn’t tell exactly what. connie gave him an incredulous look. 

“sure, i guess,” you responded. in some ways, you felt bad for jean. your friendship had been built off of a mutual distaste of eren, and now that you two were sleeping together, the playful mockery with jean had died down. he motioned his head back towards the wall, indicating that you and connie should follow. 

“alright, here’s my plan,” he whispered dramatically. connie nodded his head, the two of you leaning in as if it were some grand escapade. “eren is a dumbass. in fact, i think he still has the brain of an ape.” 

you rolled your eyes, suppressing a laugh as connie nodded once again in agreement. “get to the point, he’ll be out here any minute now.” 

“alright, alright!” jean held his hands up defensively. “i genuinely don’t think he’s capable of intelligent thought. that being said, i believe the right way to gage his feelings are to activate his instincts.” 

“dude, how long have you been planning this?” connie snorted. you couldn’t help but smile at just how funny the two of them were. 

 “never mind that,” jean shooed him back in annoyance. you raised your brow impatiently. “we need to make him jealous. if my assumptions are correct, it’ll piss him off and then you can tell him that he’s the only one you’re interested in.” 

you pulled back from the huddle, unsure about his grand plan. “i dunno, jean. this sounds kinda stupid, if i’m being honest.” 

“oh, c’mon,” jean begged, a devious smile on his features. “this’ll be our last chance to taunt him together.” 

connie grinned as you contemplated it. “i think this is a great plan!” 

you groaned, the small side of you that liked to make fun of eren starting to grow once again. “okay, fine. how’re we gonna do this?” 

“leave that to me,” jean smirked. as if on cue, you could hear the bustle of the sponsorship men coming down the hallway. your tall friend was quick to step behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and placing his chin on your shoulder, effectively pulling you to his chest. “follow my lead.” he whispered into your ear. 

you couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks at the action. jean was respectfully keeping a distance between your ass and his groin, but he was close enough that it wasn’t very obvious. 

connie started to babble about a new korean barbecue restaurant that he and sasha were planning on going to, you rocking in jean’s arms to make the sight believable. 

your heartbeat was drumming in your chest as eren rounded the corner, his professional smile plastered on his angular face. he was in the middle of talking with the balding man from earlier, eyes fixed on him. jean gave your waist a squeeze in reassurance. 

eren’s gaze peeled from the short man, teal eyes landing on you and jean all cozy. it was as if a flip was switched; the professional smile he’d been wearing slid off his features with ease, face hardening. 

you held his angry stare for a moment before turning to connie, laughing at whatever had been said, the feeling of jean’s breath against the shell of your ear as he let out a light chuckle. “it’s working.” 

you heaved out a deep breath, focusing on connie instead of eren. you could feel his eyes practically burning holes in your head, shifting your neck so that yours fell back on jean’s opposite shoulder. 

“alright, that should be it for tonight,” you heard one of the men say, glancing back over to them. you didn’t look for long though, quickly noticing that eren’s stare was intently focused on you and jean. 

the men shuffled past the three of you, leaving the building. “hey, jaeger. we ran into y/n as we were leaving.” jean hummed against your shoulder. 

you looked back at eren, who was standing in front of you with his eyebrows furrowed. jean must’ve been right, judging by eren’s face. 

“we’re leaving.” eren deadpanned, taking a step forward. he wasn’t looking at jean, rather staring directly at you. you could feel a slight amount of guilt creep up your spine, jean sighing exceptionally loud as he pulled away from you.

“do you guys wanna come to the korean barbecue place with us? it’s gonna be real good,” connie asked innocently. eren didn’t look away from you, his jaw clenching. 

“no. we’ve got other plans.” he said seriously, reaching forward to grab your hand and tug you the opposite way from the doors. 

“woah, eren, you’re going the wrong way,” you huffed in confusion, trying not to trip as he yanked you away from your friends. he continued forward, not looking back. 

“uh, bye i guess?” jean yelled. you looked over your shoulder to see the two of them giving you a thumbs up. you dished them an appreciative smile as you rounded the corner. 

“eren, where are we going?” 

eren stayed silent for a moment, not letting go of your wrist. “for a drive.” 

“huh? but your car is in the lot out front?” you mumbled, absolutely dumbfounded. the tall man didn’t respond, large hand still wrapped around your wrist. 

it wasn’t until you came to a familiar large door, eren giving it an unnecessarily hard shove. the lights flicked on, revealing ten shiny race cars, all perfectly lined up. 

eren let go of your wrist, making his way over to his own car. it was a sleek black with white checker decals, much like the rest of the vehicles in the garage. you’d seen it before, as it was quite literally one of eren’s most prized possessions. 

you stood in the doorway, eyeing him warily. “your race car? you never take it out on regular roads.”

eren’s jaw clenched as he unlocked the car, pieces of hair falling in his face. he looked upset, muscular arm propped on the roof and brows laced with annoyance. 

he walked around to the other side, opening the passenger door for you. it was strange, seeing him dressed in his regular clothes next to his race car. something about the nonchalance was attractive, teal eyes looking at you expectantly. “c’mon. be a good girl and get in the car.” 

at his choice of words you swallowed, inwardly cursing jean for his plan. you knew you were in for it, judging by the fact that eren only referred to you as good girl when he had his most sinful plans in mind. maybe you should’ve just talked to eren about making things official rather than making him jealous, you thought. too late now. 

“okay,” you sighed, resolutely deciding to accept whatever fate it was that jean had painted for you. you crossed your arms, slowly approaching eren. you stopped right as you were about to slip into the car, looking up at him through your lashes. he stared down at you, eyes serious. 

you slipped into the dark interior of the car without further discussion, the cold leather making you shiver as eren shut the door. you observed him through the windshield as he pressed a button to open the garage before getting in the car himself. 

the smell of his cologne filled the car, your teeth nervously nibbling at the skin on the inside of your lip as he turned the vehicle on. you’d never been inside the car before, only seeing it on the track and in the garage when you came to pester your friends before a race. 

it rode impossibly smooth, eren bringing his hand to the back of your seat as he backed out of the garage. you tried not to stare at the way his arm flexed, jawline enhanced as he strained his neck, but you couldn’t help yourself. he was just so hot. 

eren must’ve felt your eyes, glancing down at you momentarily with an expressionless look. you quickly shifted in your seat to stare out the window, heat burning in your cheeks. god, why was this suddenly so awkward?

it was silent as he drove out of the arena, the dark city glittering against the sky. it was beautiful at night, skyscrapers lit up all pretty. you quickly found yourself distracted by the view, leaning your head against the cool glass. you were so consumed that you didn’t notice eren merging onto the freeway. 

you were brought out of your trance at the feeling of his large hand resting on your upper thigh, grip tight and possessive. you glanced to him again, lifting your head from the window. 

he was staring straight forward, foot slowly increasing the gas. you felt your chest tighten, seeing how he was riding the tail of a minivan in front of you. 

“eren,” you warned, insinuating that he slow down. his index finger tapped tauntingly on your bare thigh, slowly rising up the skin. the fabric of your skirt rode up, eren weaving past the minivan with one hand on the wheel. 

“i have a question for you,” he said lowly, eyes not leaving the road. you gulped, a strange mix of arousal and anxiety pitting itself in your stomach as his hand reached the apex of your thigh. the side of his pinky brushed against your pelvis. “hm, no underwear?” 

you felt a pang of embarrassment. in your defense, you’d thought tonight was just going to be spent hooking up with the man, not going to the arena. “i, uh-”

“so, jean had his dick pressed against your ass and you didn’t have underwear on?” his voice was deep, jealously dripping from every word. your breath hitched as his middle and ring finger slid against your clit with ease, already soaking wet. 

eren’s shoe pressed down on the gas again, the car zipping in and out between other vehicles on the freeway. his fingers rubbed against your clit slowly, your legs subconsciously spreading to give him better access. it felt so good, the way he was circling the nerves with desirable pressure. 

“mmm, eren slow down, you’re going to crash the car,” you mumbled, watching as he sped up, whipping past the other vehicles. he was easily approaching 100 mph, your anxiety beginning to outweigh the pleasure. as if sensing this, eren sped up his fingers as well, a whimper leaving your mouth. 

“i know it’s bad for me to be so jealous,” eren said flatly, his middle finger deviating from the ring finger to slowly insert itself into your tight cunt. he pumped it slowly, still not looking at you. he was pushing 110 at this point, doing so with ease. “but something about jean touching you. being so close to you like that.” 

his ring finger joined the middle, the two sliding in and out of you, curling slightly. it was hard to stay focused on his reckless driving when he was fucking you with his fingers like that, your mind feeling fuzzy as a passing car laid on its horn. 

“eren,” you breathed out in worry, his fingers hitting your sweet spot in order to make you shut up. “you gotta slo-” 

an involuntary whimper left your lips as he curled his fingers particularly deep, the tingling sensation at your core beginning to build. you looked over to him, and boy what a mistake that was. 

his one arm was flexed, hand gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles were turning white. he was entirely focused on the road, eyebrows furrowed intently as his other hand purposefully increased its speed. he was so so hot.

you stifled another moan as your eyes looked forward again, the sight of eren nearly clipping a subaru outback making you sit forward.

“you’re going to crash!” you gasped. 

“i’ll slow down if you answer my question,” eren growled, his thumb coming to rub your clit rapidly as his fingers continued to pump in and out of your cunt. you hissed at the newfound pleasure, your head coming back to rest against the seat. 

“yes, yes, okay,” you agreed, screwing your eyes shut to avoid looking at how fast he was driving. 

eren took a deep breath, giving you a sideways glance. he’d never done this before, but he’d also never felt this way about someone. the way you clenched so good around his fingers making his chest tighten. he made you feel this good, not jean. the thought brought a smirk to his face as you let out a strangled moan. 

“i’ll stop speeding if you agree to be my girlfriend,” eren’s words shocked you right out of your pleasure coma, eyes widening as you jolted upright in your seat. did he really just say that? did jean’s plan actually work?

his hand jerked the steering wheel to the side, your mind too preoccupied with his statement to even notice his fingers had stilled inside of you, anxious for your answer. he wasn’t looking at you, eyes still locked on the road. 

you held your breath as you noticed how fast your heart was beating. “i thought you’d never ask.” you responded, cheeks burning. 

eren’s lips curled upwards, pulling his fingers from inside of you. your eyes followed his long digits as he popped the middle two into his mouth, sucking your bitter sheen from his knuckles. he was your boyfriend. he wanted you to be his girlfriend. “good girl.” he mumbled. 

you glanced back at the freeway, surprised as eren jerked the steering wheel, making an abrupt exit. it appeared to deviate into the woods, your eyes flitting nervously to the man beside you. “um, where are you taking me?” 

“i’m just fulfilling my promise,” he answered, bringing his hand back to grip your thigh. his fingers were wet with his saliva, the sight bringing a strong throb to your core. oh yeah, i never finished. “’member? i said once we were done with my meeting i was going to fuck you.” 

you suppressed an excited smile at his vulgar words, pressing your thighs together for some form of relief. you were painfully aroused, the burning sensation almost too much to bear. 

“plus, it seems like you never learn,” eren’s words were suddenly serious as he pulled the car up a gravel road. there was a sharp drop off to the side, the city skyline sparkling in the distance. you cocked a brow at him. “you’re my girlfriend now, but i’m still pissed about that stunt you pulled with jean. gonna have to punish you, of course.” 

you swallowed as he shut the car off, the city sitting innocently in view. the spot between your legs was aching, desperate for some form of release. you couldn’t help the swell in your chest at the fact that eren was your boyfriend now, anxiously awaiting whatever he had in mind. 

eren leaned over you, maintaining a deep stare as he shifted your seat into a flat position. his fingers lightly danced across your skin as he unbuckled your belt, face hovering above the hem of your skirt. he glanced back up to you, teal eyes glinting in the darkness. 

“can’t wait to fuck my new girlfriend,” eren growled, wasting no time in climbing on top of you. he shifted your legs so that your knees were bent by your head, wet cunt on full display in front of him. he stared down at you, a hand on each knee. “shit, you’re so hot like this.” 

he slowly brought a finger to your center, the feeling of his cold digit gliding against you bringing slight relief to the deep ache. his eyes were focused below your waist, lazily flitting upwards as he brought his finger to your lips. “taste.” 

you happily accepted, wrapping your lips around his finger. your tongue swirled around his knuckle, the saccharin taste filling your mouth. he pulled it from your lips, a devilish grin on his features. 

“i can’t wait any longer,” he breathed, leaning forward to press his lips against yours. the kiss was deep and heated, however it felt different from all the others you’d shared in the past. it was meaningful and tender, slow and deliberate. his tongue swiped your lip, slipping into your mouth with a sigh. 

his hands undid his pants as you kissed, the sound of his belt being undone filling the small space. you could feel him positioning the tip of his cock at your entrance, sliding it against your slick. 

eren pulled back to look at you, breaths mingled for a moment before he pushed past your entrance, burying himself deep within you. the stretch was slightly uncomfortable and you were convinced you’d never get accustomed to the sheer size of his dick.

eren didn’t wait for you to adjust, flexing his hips back to give you another purposeful thrust. a whimper slipped past your lips at the feeling, his hand leaving your leg and lightly wrapping around your neck. 

“fuck,” he hissed, speeding up his pace. your walls clenched around him, climax fast approaching with every deep thrust of his cock within your cunt. “feels so good fucking you when you’re all mine.” 

his hand tightened around your throat, the combined pressure at both ends of your body only adding to the pleasure as he rammed into you. he grunted as his other hand pressed your legs forward, getting a better angle so that he could fill you to the hilt. 

a strangled cry ripped from your throat as he hit particularly deep, bringing his face down to roughly kiss your lips. he was breathing heavily, the car shaking as he bucked his hips into yours.

eren craned his neck down to look at where his length disappeared inside of you, a small smile toying at his features. the sight caused his cock to twitch, relishing in just how nicely he filled you up. you were his, and he was yours. 

just the thought of you being his girlfriend was enough; a loud groan leaving his chest as he pressed his hips against yours. you could feel him release himself inside of you, the thick sensation bringing on a much anticipated orgasm. your limbs grew cold, the pleasure reaching the tips of your fingers. 

eren placed a chaste kiss to your forehead, gazing down at you. “my girlfriend is so fucking hot.” he grinned. 

you rolled your eyes at his cheesy comment, swatting his chest playfully. he carefully removed himself from you, trying not to drip onto the car seat. 

“here, pretty. you’ll have to keep your legs up,” he instructed as he pulled his pants back up. you frowned, the thought of holding this position the whole way back somewhat daunting. 

“huh? but how am i supposed to keep this stuff from coming out?” you whined, still trying to regain your composure. eren’s face was flushed as he smirked at you. 

“that’ll be your punishment, m’kay?” he said smugly. you scoffed, holding your knees in each hand. 

“but that’ll be impossible!” 

“don’t worry,” he leaned forward to kiss your lips once again. “i’ll drive slow.” 

<3 <3 <3

[thefanficmonster]

Just Another One

Sequel to: ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’

Corpse Husband x Actress!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Mention of bad past relationships, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: They keep proving each other right in the most wrong ways possible. They each want to be guarded even if that means the other will be hurt. Maybe that’s what they want - to hurt one another because they’ve already hurt each other once before.

Requested by the lovely readers who enjoyed the previous fic ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’. Sorry for the large time gap between the posting of the two fics but I still hope you guys will take the time to read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love you all with all my heart, Vy ❤

When you go out of your way to avoid leaving the house your options of entertainment are severely limited and you can’t blame anyone or anything but yourself for it. Today, I wouldn’t have gone out of my apartment even if I was one of those people who frequent the outdoors seeing as how the sky is trying to flood the Earth with all this nonstop rain. It does set a mood for a perfect night in but when you spend all your nights in doing the same thing over and over again, the atmosphere is practically meaningless. And so I ‘ve decided to resort to channel surfing as though I’ll find something interesting on TV that I haven’t yet seen on one of my social media timelines.

I pass several cooking channels on my journey, making a mental note of their individual numbers in case I don’t stumble across anything capable of better distracting me from my boredom and loneliness that’s slowly starting to creep in. I pass by a few movie channels showing teenage romcoms as if to celebrate the start of summer so you can imagine how quickly I moved on from those. Then come the celebrity channels which can often get a laugh out of me because of how pathetic and unbelievably ridiculous they are. And so, I stick around one where there’s a broadcast on a movie showing that’s happening tonight in LA. Oddly enough, despite my anxiety, going to a movie showing has always been on my list of things I’d want to do. This can be considered living vicariously or rubbing salt into the wound that I’ll probably never go because my anxiety and fear of being recognized is too severe. Either way I stick around to watch it.

And man do I regret it now looking at several different angels of a couple of actors entering the venue where they are to be photographed and asked questions by the mob of paparazzi that’s gathered due to the massive event. That in and of itself doesn’t sound - and really isn’t - so bad. However, it’s important to note that the actress in this duo is Y/N. Y/N L/N. My Y/N....shit, sorry, I mean my FRIEND Y/N, her arm linked with whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is who is holding an umbrella above the both of them, shielding them from the downpour of rain that is also taking place in LA apparently.

“The two were seen entering the venue earlier this evening, looking particularly cozy in each other’s presence if I do say so myself. The rain probably worked nicely in their favor.“ The first reporter says, her teasing tone of voice sending chills of anger down my spine as I glare at the screen, hands balled in fists, jaw clenched - all my body’s instinctive reactions to what is being shown to me. I know I technically have no right to behave or feel this way, in fact I should be fucking happy for Y/N and her successful career and the progress in her love life. But damn it how can I?! I was so damn close to kissing this girl! I was so fucking close to falling in another trap, tripping and landing in the embrace of another liar and user, another girl who switches partners more often than shoes. How could I’ve been so reckless to get so close to her even platonically? How did we become close enough for me to 1) show her my face; 2) start inviting her over to my apartment regularly; and how didn’t I notice the kind of messed up person she was all that time.

She was all sweet and flirting and shit a week or so ago and now she’s doing the exact same thing with him! The cameras are capturing them perfectly: every laugh, every exchange of a knowing look or nod, ever smack to his arm when he tells a joke. But what bothers me most is the many times he’s wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer. Not just for pictures, but just because the fucker felt like it! And Y/N doesn’t seem to mind it at all. 

“They have been the talk of the town recently, so while they could just be adding fuel to the fire, they could also have been caught by the flame and ‘caught feelings’ as they say. Regardless these two are a view we’d like to see more often.“ The other reporter says and that’s the final straw.

In one swift motion I turn the TV off and throw the remote across the room. It hits the wall and falls to the ground in several pieces, broken by the force of the impact. Just like I am broken by the force of the impact of these news. I don’t know which is worse: the fact that I fell for her and almost let her know it; the fact that she’s just another member of the club I don’t want anywhere near my life; or the fact that I can’t believe it.

Yeah that’s right - one foolish part of me refuses to believe that’s she’d do such a thing. I think that’s the same part which is still in awe of her so you can bet I ignore that part the majority of the time.

She is just another one. Not the one. Having been hurt before doesn’t mean she won’t hurt me or anyone else she’s gonna be with. Hurt people hurt people.

And damn has she hurt me, probably without knowing a damn thing. How selfish can you be, Y/N? How selfish can you really get? And how much am I going to allow you to hurt me?

                                                             *  *  *

“Thank you so much, Andrew. I would’ve died on the spot of anxiety if I was on my own.“ I say to my best friend who is currently sitting next to me on a park bench, in a tux, eating a cheeseburger. I too am still in my gown and am also gorging on a cheeseburger of my own.

“Don’t mention it. Us anxious people need to stick together.“ He bumps his shoulder against mine, stealing a small genuine smile from me, “Plus I couldn’t not come with you. You know how much I like a good rumor.“

I scoff, “Of course you do, but then again there was no need to add to what the media has already made a whole-ass ship out of.” I roll my eyes and take another bite. My appetite hasn’t been in its best condition so I’m only eating this under Andrew’s orders. I have no idea how people can ship us romantically, he’s the definition of an older - and very bossy - brother to me. I wish I could tell each and every single one of those girls who hate me because I’ve ‘stolen their man’ that I’d most likely be their sister in law rather than man snatcher, seeing as how my relationship with Andrew is so sibling-like.

That’s because we’re too alike, no one gets that. People play the ‘opposites attract’ car more often than I consider rational. But  then again when they see a couple like Andrew and I - who are basically the same person in different bodies - they suddenly think we’re super compatible. Trust me, we’re not. And everyone who’s been on set with us will tell you the same.

“What can I say...“ he shrugs, smirking at me, “I like the fun. I bet Becca doesn’t though.“

I can’t help but huff. Andrew is the only one I’ve ever openly expressed my frustrations with Rebecca to. He was super helpful on the subject, seeing as how he can relate - many partners of his have tried to use him, some of which even succeeded. He’s more than qualified to school me on the topic but it turned more into sharing bad experiences. One of which was that instance back at Corpse’s apartment.

“And neither does Corpse I suppose.“ As though he’s read my mind, he pokes the hurt spot, pouring salt in the wound causing me to visibly cringe as though the pain was physical - because it was, I felt it in my chest and in my gut, a sharp stab of guilt and regret. 

Why did I let it come to that? Why did I let us get so close? How did I not think of the consequences?

“I don’t care if he does or doesn’t.“ My hand automatically reaches for the pocket of the jeans I’m not even wearing in search of a cigarette. Not that I’d be able to light one even if I had them on me - Andrew would smack it out of my hand before I could even take a single puff.

He has the audacity to laugh, “You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.”

That’s all he needs to say really - that’s enough to make me feel seen and understood. Though that’s not always a good thing. I often times wish he couldn’t read me so well. Better said: I wish I didn’t let myself be so readable, you know. I’m just glad he’s the one who sees me because if it were anyone else they’d use this vulnerability of mine against me. I’m well aware that it’s a weakness, a really inconvenient one, but damn it I can’t get rid of it. I feel like I’ll be less human if I lose it. Everyone’s allowed to be vulnerable, some just are lucky enough to choose who they’ll be vulnerable around. I’m lucky enough to to have a choice, not so lucky in the people I choose to trust. Guess that’s not a luck thing, it’s just my inability to decipher whether a person is worth all the pain and torture of coming clean to them or not. So far many people have burnt me but two stick out in particular - Becca and Corpse. Corpse especially, which is the odd thing considering he hasn’t even wronged me in any way. At least not yet.

“Your phone’s vibrating.“ Andrew says, pulling me out of my overflowing head when he hands me my phone which I handed to him because of my dress’ lack of pockets.

“Thanks.“ I mutter through a sigh as I take it from him, checking the notification I’ve gotten.

My stomach drops: it’s a message from Corpse.

“Hey I saw you are in LA but we have a stream tomorrow, will you still be participating?“

Before I can reply, he sends me another message.

“I know you’re probably very busy but we get the most viewership on the streams when you’re in them so....“

I’ve probably been staring at my phone screen for longer than I thought since Andrew felt the need to make sure I was still breathing: “Hey, you ok? You look terribly pale.” I can barely hear him let alone reply. I can’t hear my own thoughts to know what to reply to him. “Y/N, you’re scaring me.”

I’m scaring myself too, Andrew. I’m scared too. I’m scared of how broken my picker has become. I almost kissed this guy! I almost entrusted all my thoughts, hopes, wishes and goals to him! What the fuck was I thinking?! Well, at least I know what he was thinking about - viewership. Likes, subs, views, publicity. The more eyes on the stream the better for him and everyone else. I genuinely want to applaud him, no one has been so direct about using me before. I was in a relationship with Becca for almost a year before I accidentally found out what she had been doing the whole time. No one’s ever smacked me in the face with this much honesty. It’s bittersweet really.

I want to laugh, I want to cry, slap myself across the face, slap him...I want to do so much, but all I can do now is sit in silence and think of how I could be so stupid.

He’s just another one, how did I not see that? How do I never see it until it’s too late? Why is one part of me still screaming: ‘He didn’t mean it like that!’

AND WHY THE FUCK DO I WANT TO BELIEVE IT?

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[shelby-love]

GEORGE WEASLEY

I'm Holy. Get it?

Requested: no

Prompts: none (all lines are from the movie save for the reader’s + some other)

Warning(s): I'd say if you haven't watched HP movie 7 don't read this but I mean...  

[Y/FN or Y/MN] is your father’s name or your mother’s name, whichever you prefer :)

Word count: 2.6K

Author's note: This is set directly in the first part of the ‘Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows pt. 1′ movie (Polyjuice scenes and arriving at the Burrow after the Sky battle). Reader reacts to George's injury kinda thing. I highly recommend rewatching those specific scenes so you get the feels:

Arrival at Privet Drive (watch first 50 seconds)

Full Polyjuice scenes

The Sky Battle (watch all if you want)

The Order at the Burrow after the Sky Battle

This is by far my favourite one-shot out of all of my work and it took me a while to write it so please like, reblog and let me know what you think! P.S. if you’re up for me to write a part 2, that one shot will be set before, during and after the wedding <3

MASTERLIST

Darkness set around Privet Drive seemed to be rippling, the air wafting all around. The Dursley's house, home of the famous chosen boy Harry came into view only as the brooms lowered to the ground. Not only brooms, in three cases skeletal, black winged horses too. Hagrid dominated the scene, sitting in an enormous motorbike you had begged him to give you a ride on, with goggles and a helmet set on his bearded face.

Despite not arriving in the motorbike, you had flown on the next best thing - a broom, with arms wrapped around your boyfriend, face nested against his shoulder and a million sweet nothings whispered into your ears on the way over.

You were pleased to say the least.

One by one, you lifted the Disillusionment Charms, coming into view for Harry Potter to see through the window of his room.

George Weasley dismounted the broom with ease, helping you off by letting you put your hand on his strong shoulders.

Harry pulled the front door open, eyes wide upon hearing Hermione screech and fling her arms around him. Ron: the next best thing how George and Fred always say, clapped his best friend's back and waltzed into the house after Hermione.

You stood outside, holding George's hand, body molded against his and watched the scenes unfold with the rest of the Order - Bill, Fleur, Tonks, Lupin, Arthur, Mad-Eye Moody, Kingsley, Fred and George. You were accompanied by Mundungus Fletcher: a small, dirty man with droopy eyes and hair that was non-existent. Behind Mad-Eye stood a slender man in a dark suit, having just dismounted the third winged horse. He was handsome, so to speak, with black hair brushed behind and dark glasses shielding his eyes.

"Who wears sunglasses at midnight?" Fred had mumbled when he saw the man for the first time at the headquarters. You laughed immediately, agreeing by throwing a joke of your own.

George was protective; he made sure you weren't close to either of them as you followed the rest of the Order inside. As was Bill, his older brother, who had a hand on his fiancée's back, ushering her inside while placing himself as a human shield against Mundungus and the stranger. You were thankful for George, just like Fleur for Bill - you saw it in her eyes when you made it inside the small, family home that was once filled with furniture.

"Hello, Harry. Bill Weasley," said the oldest brother, hand extended for Harry to take.

"Ah, pleasure to meet you," this was the first time Harry had met the oldest Weasley and he shook his hand immediately and gave Fleur a hug right after.

"Wasn't always this handsome." Fred teased, pushing through the small crowd of people.

"Dead ugly," Your boyfriend added, holding your hand, and pushing you in front of him as the auror walked in right after you three did.

You released George's hand and came in to give Harry a hug, who you considered to be your close friend. "Are you going back to Hogwarts?" The boy asked you, knowing you were as old as him and his closest friends.

You shook your head, "My parents are in the Order as much as I am. I'll go when we defeat him. At least that's what I have planned."

"Of course, she'll go," Hermione interjected, not wanting to take the N.E.W.T. alone.

"No, she'll work with me," George butted in the conversation, grinning. "She'll be our salesman."

"Or saleswoman!" Fred voiced somewhere around the house.

Your lips spread into a grin instinctively as you placed a hand into George's already extended one and joined him somewhere else, letting Harry get to know a little bit more about Bill and his scar.

"-the joker," the last of Tonks' words made their way into your ears. The bubbly woman came to stand next to you. "By the way, wait until you hear the news! Remus and I are -"

"All right, all right!" Mad-Eye interrupted Tonks mid-sentence. You gave her a smile and a glance at her belly. She smiled in return. "You’ll all have time for a cozy catch-up later! We’ve got to get the hell out of here and soon!"

"What news?" George leaned in and whispered into your ear, Fred leaning in too.

"Doesn't matter," You told him. It was Tonks' announcement, not yours.

"Babe, pleasee," he whined, but you stood your ground and elbowed him in his abs.

George yelped behind you, drawing in attention. The adults turned around to look but he composed himself immediately, placing on a carefree smile and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, brushing them all off with the actions.

You missed half the conversation about the Trace the Ministry had on every underage witch and wizard. You thankfully didn't have the Trace for several months now but you did pity Harry in that aspect. The Trace was not an easy pill to swallow for an underage wizard like himself.

"The real one...?"

Moody drew a flask from one of his pockets.

"I believe you're familiar with this particular brew."

"No! Absolutely not!"

Hermione sighed, "I told you he'd take it well."

Harry, the always humble boy shook his head. You didn't see his face because you stood in the back, but you could imagine it very well. "If you think I'm going to let people risk their lives for me-"

"Never done that before, have we?" Ron mumbled, rather audibly so that everyone heard him.

"This is different. Taking that. Becoming me - no."

"Well, none of us really fancy it, mate." Fred said earnestly.

"Yeah imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as scrawny, specky gits forever." Your boyfriend added after him.

Harry didn't smile at that.

But you did - and that was enough for the Weasley twins.

You focused on the conversation that went on, cringing with George when Mundungus started to speak.

Suddenly, Hermione mercilessly grabbed a tuft of Harry's jet-black hair, yanking several pieces out and placing the strands into the flask.

"Blimey Hermione!"

Moody held out the flask in which the potion was connecting itself to the strands of hair. The mud like liquid gave an awfully displeasing imitation of brewing, but it turned to gold liquid soon and you let out a breath of relief.

But relief was soon replaced with dread as you realized what awaited you. Instinctively, you stepped back only to crash into George who had stepped behind you, knowing what you would do. Your boyfriend placed his hands on your shoulders and walked you to stand in line with the rest of soon-to-be-fake-Harry-Potters. "You aren't going anywhere luv."

George slapped your shoulders for effect.

"For those of you who haven't taken Polyjuice Potion before, fair warning. It tastes like goblin piss."

You visibly shuddered as you stood between the twins, Moody's fake eye catching you in a locked gaze.

"Have a lot of experience with that, do you, Mad-Eye?"

Moody's eye switches from you onto Fred. "Just trying to defuse the tension."

Fred gingerly took a sip, cringing in distaste immediately after.

He tried to hand the flask over to you, but you shook your head and dashed over to stand after George, not before him.

Why didn't he start from the other end of the line?

You were fine with standing next to Mungundus - the petty criminal, just not with taking a sip of that potion.

"My girlfriend's just scared," George smiled apologetically, still trying to defuse the tension just like his brother.

Both twins shrinked immediately after drinking it, and you swallowed the remains of your saliva and took the flask from your now very short boyfriend. "Cheers." You muttered, taking a small sip from the flask.

"That's not nearly enough! Blimey drink some more!" Mad-Eye barked at you and you did as he said, taking a much bigger sip this time round.

He finally nodded and stepped aside.

You felt your features bubble up uncomfortably, until the transformation ended, and 8 Harry Potters stood in the kitchen that had once belonged to Harry's evil muggle caretakers.

"Wow - we're identical!" Fred and George said at the same.

"Not yet you aren't," Moody mumbled, pulling out the sacks with eight identical sets of clothes.

You, Fleur and Hermione grabbed for the clothes immediately, your bras suddenly feeling everything but comfortable against your now flat chest.

"Don't have something a bit more sporty, do you?'" George asked, looking at the red shirt puzzled.

"Yes, don't fancy this color at all." Fred agreed.

"Fancy this: You're not you, so shut it and strip." Mad-eye exclaimed, turning to Harry. "You'll need to change too, Potter."

Harry looks around and self-consciously begins to strip. The other in takers of the potion had no concern when they stripped off their clothes. As for you, when you glanced underneath the shirt and indeed saw that your breasts were no longer there, you had no problem when taking off your shirt and bra. Any ounce of self-consciousness that was there disappeared once coming to terms that the body wasn't yours.

"Harry," you started, your voice the only thing left that was your own save for the clothes you were currently taking off. "Sorry for exposing you like this. But if it makes you feel any better...you have a nice body?"

You didn't really know to which Harry you were talking to, but one look at the Harry who didn't smile, the one that looked rather angry was enough to know he wasn't the real Harry. It was George. "I mean...that's kind of a compliment to you too... Right Fred?"

"It's a compliment," A different Harry but with Fred's voice said. "Take it or leave it George."

"Help me with this?" You decided to say instead, your cheeks flushing red as you turned around to give George space to unclip your bra.

"Never thought, I'd see the day Harry helps himself take off a bra," Ron mumbled with a laugh, having just finished commenting about his best friend's non existing tattoo.

"Shut it, Ron." Harry's voice came from somewhere amongst the crowd. Real Harry's voice.

George then helped you put on your red shirt in a haste, just now starting to smile. "I'm helping Harry Potter with his clothes the same way I would help my girlfriend."

"But it is me you dimwit!"

"Right then," Moody started to talk again, just after George helped you with your jacket. "We'll be pairing off. Each Potter will have a protector. As for you, Harry..."

"Yes?" Every Potter, real and fake, said in unison.

"The real Harry! Where the devil are you, anyway?"

"Here." The real Harry raised his hand and Moody's eyes rotated onto him.

"You'll ride with Hagrid." He said, "As for [Y/FN or Y/MN]'s kid... Where in the bloody hell are you even?"

Hearing those words, you raised a shaky hand. "I'm here sir."

"Good," Mad-Eye took note. "You'll be going with Ren on one of the thestrals."

"R-ren?"

The dark figure you and George so desperately tried to avoid stepped into the room right at that moment. "Yes, Ren. He's one of our best Aurors. Good and loyal - exactly the ones that are the hardest to find."

"O-kay," You said uneasily and turned around to face George. As weird as it sounded, fake Harrys holding comforting hands weren't a weird sight if you imagined hard enough to see George and Y/N.

That's what you did at that moment at least.

Held Harry's hand and tried to imagine George.

"Let's go."

***

"I'll see you at the Burrow, okay?" You told George, voice laced with worry.

"I would kiss you right now if you didn't look like Harry," He said.

You nodded in understanding, "Me too George. Me too."

The two of you went to your respective protectors - George with Remus and you with Ren.

You ignored the man when you came up to him and only gave him a look when he was supposed to help you up on the calm horse like creature.

"Hang on tight," was the last thing he said before the thestral flew the moment Moody finished counting.

You did hold him, only not as closely like on the broom with George.

***

"Confringo!" You yelled, holding out your wand in the direction of the Death Eaters. A bright blast flew out of your wand, hitting one of Voldemort's followers and sending him off his broom to be eaten away by the wind.

They were catching up to you, not bothered by the aggressive sways of the wind. Whether the thestral was acting out in fear or in rage - you wouldn't know.

"We're almost there!"

True to his words, the two of you broke through the protective spells of the headquarters, landing somewhere on the land, away from the Burrow.

You heaped off the thestral immediately. "Do you really plan on walking all the way back?"

You didn't know what to tell Ren as you continued to walk on unsteady legs. Your brain was mushed, fried even due to the number of curses you evaded and had been struck with.

"I-I..." You started, but words weren't coming out. "We're the last ones to arrive. I'm sure of it!"

"What difference does that make?"

"What difference..." You repeated, not believing what he was saying. "They maybe think we're dead! George might-"

George might think I'm dead.

It crushed your whole being. The lingering thought that they might not be okay...

"Come back," Ren interjected, slashing through your mind with his words. "We'll be faster on the thestral."

As much as you didn't want him to be right...he was. And so you turned back around and grabbed his hand, sitting back on the thestral - cold and scared for everyone's lives.

Especially George's.

***

"Oi! Let her go! Let her go!"

Remus Lupin ignored everyone as he pointed the tip of his wand to you, sending your still very Harry looking body hurling to the ground.

In the end it was Fred, George's older twin, who had marched out of the house and pushed Remus away. Fred looked like himself again, making it all ten times scarier. You had tears in your eyes as he pointed his wand at you and never felt so threatened in your life. "What was the place where you first met George and me?!"

His screaming had you struggling for words. "Answer me!"

"Filch's office you bloody dung brain!" You screamed back, feeling your face return back to normal.

Fred's face softened instantly as he came down to help you up. He hugged you the moment you were back standing. "Fred, what's going on?"

"It's George."

***

"Where is he?" You barged into the cramped house, looking around the whole place frantically. You followed Fred into the sitting room, where Molly had tended to her injured son when he was first brought in.

George lied on the couch, his bleeding had stopped thanks to his mother, but under the light you saw a clean hole where George's ear had been.

You dropped to your knees by his side immediately.

You could practically see the struggle he had with opening his eyes which he never had trouble with before, especially not when he was trying to look at you.

"How is he?"

Fred answered glancing at the bandages, "It could have been much worse. We can't make the ear grow back since it was removed by dark magic."

You shook your head, wiping your tears with the sides of your index fingers before brushing George's hair out of the way. "He wouldn't want you to."

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "He's a tough nut."

You voiced your agreement with your laugh, "Yeah, he is."

The two of you admired George in silence for a few moments. The room has been cleared, leaving only the three of you there. "I'm sorry for jumping on you like that."

It wasn't common for Fred to be so serious, and because you didn't even want to think about your arrival, you gave him a small smile, "It's okay Fred. I would have done the same."

"I know."

"What did he say?" You asked quietly, "Before he passed out."

"That he was holy."

"Holy?"

"Yep," Fred said, the teasing tone to his voice returning as he pointed to his ear for demonstration. "Holy. You get it?"

"Thank God! He's alright!"

MASTERLIST

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[reinerispretty]

reminiscence. (? x f!reader) pt11, the end.

hello everyone :) i know you’ve been waiting for this, and it’s finally here!! thank you all so much for liking this dumb idea i had at 2:30 am one night. i can’t thank you enough for all of your support and patience, so i hope you enjoy!!

pt1

pt10

MASTERLIST

After their discussion, Korra led their group to the darker parts of the Spirit World. They were far from where Iroh’s cozy home sat and it was a long walk. (Y/N’s) legs, feet, and back started hurting from how long they had traveled and how heavy her pack was. She shifted it uncomfortably, adjusting the straps on her shoulders. Mako glanced at her and tugged at her pack. 

“Let me,” He said, offering to take the pack from her shoulders. (Y/N) shook her head, leaning away from him. 

“I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own backpack,” She said, holding her chin high. Her muscles were killing her, but she was already the weakest link among her friends. She wasn’t about to act like it. Mako chuckled, shaking his head. 

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Bolin questioned, jogging to catch back up with his friends. He had never been in this section of the Spirit World before, and kept getting distracted by its flora and fauna. Korra shrugged. 

“I guess I was looking for a sign.” 

“So, you have no idea where we’re going?” Mako scoffed. Korra glared at him and (Y/N), desperate to ease the tension, spoke up. 

“I think the way Korra is leading us is right. I mean, I have this feeling in my gut.” 

“Feelings aren’t going to lead us to whatever took your memories.” It was (Y/N’s) turn to glare at Mako. 

“Your negativity is what’s not going to lead us anywhere!” She inhaled a deep breath, looking back over to Bolin. He smiled kindly at her, his green eyes shining. Looking at Bolin was like being at peace. “I can feel a pull towards where we’re headed. It’s inviting but makes me want to run in the opposite direction. I’m sure that has to mean something.” 

“It’s the only lead we have,” Korra agreed. 

They walked over the plains and fields of the Spirit World until the sky began to darken. They had only been there a few hours, so it was not night passing above them, but rather the darkness of the forest that loomed ahead. Its trees sprouted from the ground and reached toward the sky, darkening everything around them. Their limbs held no leaves, only sharp and pointed edges of branches. Nothing could be seen within, only a darkness that seemed impenetrable. 

(Y/N) swallowed. A chill traveled up her spine, settling deep in her bones. She was gripped with such a fear that made her chest tighten, and she looked between her friends with panic in her eyes. The forest was wholeheartedly not good, but perhaps the scariest thing about it was how familiar it had felt to her. Like the spirit had said, she had been here. She had set foot into its darkness and the feelings it gave her then were what she was feeling now. 

She wrapped her fingers tightly around the straps of her backpack. This is where they needed to go. Korra looked back at her, raising her eyebrow as they approached the forest’s edge. “It’s in there,” (Y/N) said quietly. 

“Are you sure about this?” Bolin asked. 

“I was the one who didn’t even want to do this in the first place,” (Y/N) said.

“We’ve made it this far. There’s no turning back now.” Korra grabbed her hand. “Everyone should join hands so we don’t get separated in there.” (Y/N) couldn’t keep her eyes off of the forest, but she offered her hand for one of the boys. Bolin reached for it, but Mako beat his brother to it, his fingers slotting between hers. Bolin inhaled a deep breath and took his brother’s hand, and they set off into the forest. 

As soon as they stepped foot inside, the darkness completely surrounded them. (Y/N’s) eyes took a while to adjust, and in that time she tripped over nearly every root she encountered, causing a chain reaction with Bolin and Mako. “Hey!” Mako called out as Bolin slammed into his back, and the younger brother groaned and rubbed his nose. 

Korra formed a ball of fire in her hand, turning back to the rest of the group. “Maybe Mako should be on the end,” She suggested, “So he has a free hand.” Mako nodded, releasing both Bolin and (Y/N’s) hands to switch places. 

“Wait,” (Y/N) said, shuffling her pack off of her shoulder. She reached deep inside the main pocket, pulling out a flashlight. “Korra, hold--” Her voice was lost as a powerful gust of wind blew through the trees. The forest did nothing to protect the group from the weight of the breeze, and (Y/N) was knocked to the ground. The wind was so strong that it pressed her down into the earth further. She could feel the cool dirt against her cheek and curled herself into a ball, holding the flashlight tight against her chest. She lay there until the wind had completely died down. The uncomfortable silence of the forest returned, and she sat up. 

“Bolin?” She called out as she rose to her feet. She wiped the dirt from the side of her face and turned her flashlight on the point where Bolin should have been. He was nowhere to be found. “Mako?” She slowly rotated around herself. “Korra?” Her friends had disappeared, as had her pack, and (Y/N) was alone in the middle of the Spirit World forest. 

Panic had started to creep in and she could feel tears welling in her eyes. She had already considered the forest to be scary, and that was with the company of her friends. Now that she was entirely alone, (Y/N) was terrified. The fear she felt was crippling, and all she could think to do was stand in place and wait for someone to come find her. 

No, she couldn’t do that. Bolin, Korra, and Mako had all disappeared, and they wouldn’t do that on their own volition. As far as she knew, she was the only one with a flashlight. She had to find them. 

She pointed the light ahead of her, or at least, what she believed to be ahead, and started stepping and climbing over the gnarled branches. Part of her wondered if she could call for them. What if she drew the attention of some Spirit World monster? She doubted a rough understanding of hand-to-hand combat would help her in that situation. 

(Y/N) inhaled a deep breath. “I’m not scared,” She called out into the forest. It was a lie, but whatever being was out there didn’t need to know that. “I know you’re trying to scare me by separating me from my friends, but it’s not going to work!” She continued moving forward, swiping the flashlight in front of her. “At this point, you’re just making me angry, and you don’t want to see me angry!” Her voice was wavering, but it was the only thing that made her feel less alone. 

---

Bolin felt a bit dazed. His body was sore, as if he had been lying down on a hard surface for hours. He clenched his fists on the dirt of the forest floor. He very well could have. “Mako?” Bolin called out, the sound of his own voice sending an ache through his head. He was having trouble remembering why he was here in the first place. He had been with Mako, that much he knew, but who else? 

In his mind, he saw a flash of bright blue eyes and the colors of the Water Tribe. Korra had been with them, that’s right. But what would he, Korra, and Mako all be doing in a dark forest? 

“Bolin!” He heard a familiar voice call out, and in the distance he saw a light moving back and forth. (Y/N!) That was the reason they were here, to help her get her memories back. Bolin rose to his feet. 

“(Y/N)!” He shouted, scrambling over the brambles of branches and brush to reach her. They pulled at his pant legs, keeping him from moving forward at the speed he was trying to move. Bolin resorted to earthbending the plants out of the way by flipping the earth on itself. He did this over and over until he had cleared enough of a path to continue moving. “(Y/N), stay there! I’m coming to you!” 

Bolin wasn’t sure if she could hear him. The light was disappearing, deeper and deeper into the forest, and he worked with haste to keep up with her. He made a mental note to tell her how fast she was. 

The light was fully gone now, leaving Bolin in the dark. He didn’t have time to think about what he should do. He kept earthbending and moving forward through the trees, trying to follow the direction that he had last seen the light travel. Bolin had lost (Y/N) once, and he was not about to let it happen again. 

---

While the gust of wind had pushed (Y/N) to the ground and sent Bolin in a different direction, Mako awoke tangled in the branches of one of the Spirit World trees. He was terrified when he had opened his eyes, feeling his feet dangling beneath him. He could not see how high up he was, but his backpack was caught in the limbs and there was no way Mako would be able to untangle it. 

He used his bending to cast a column of fire beneath him. The trees seemed impervious to his bending, but he was able to see that he was only a few feet off the ground. Mako shimmied out of his backpack and fell to the ground, landing on this back with a heavy thump. He groaned, allowing himself a few moments to lay on the ground before standing. He lit a ball of fire in both of his palms, one to light his way and the other to throw at a potential enemy. 

He wasn’t in the same place he had been, this much he was sure. The trees here were considerably shorter than the ones that had surrounded his group. Mako guessed he had been tossed back toward the edge of the forest, far away from his friends. With a heavy sigh, he pressed on toward the deepest parts of the woods. 

“Bolin!” Mako shouted into the darkness, pausing every few moments to see if he could hear any shuffling. “Korra!” He repeated this process, shouting all three of his friends’ names. It was likely that them being split up hadn’t been a product of the Spirit World, but rather a conscious effort by something far more sinister. As Mako walked deeper into the forest, he felt the familiar sensation of such a fear that had only gripped him a few times during life. His thoughts drifted to a certain night with his parents, but he shook them from his head. 

That was what the Spirit World did, Korra had told him, especially if you weren’t careful. You needed to keep your thoughts guarded or else they would wander and the fear that you felt on the inside would be reflected on the world surrounding you. He just hoped that Korra maintained her composure, or else everything would get very bad very quickly. 

---

Korra’s eyes flew open, taking a while to adjust to the bright light surrounding her. It was such a contrast from the last thing she had seen. (Y/N) had been handing her the flashlight, since they were only lit by the light of the fire in her palm. A strong wind had knocked (Y/N) to the ground and had blown out the flame, leaving Korra and everyone else in complete darkness. But that did little to explain how Korra had ended up here. 

She sat up to find where here was, exactly. To her left was the darkness of the forest. To her right was a small oasis, surrounded by lush green grass. A waterfall poured shining blue water into the small pool. The sun shined down on them, despite leaving the rest of the forest completely untouched. 

A twig snapped to her side and Korra jumped to her feet, poised in her fighting stance. A man exited the forest, holding up his hands in defense. To Korra, he looked like a depiction of her Uncle Unalaq, but there was something off about him. It was as if he looked like a memory of her uncle, what she would have pictured if she had not seen him in many years. 

“I apologize,” The man said, a smirk reaching his lips. “I thought this form would put you at ease.” 

Korra did not hesitate to react. She kicked into the air, sending a swirling column of air toward the man. He deflected it, so she punched slabs of rock at him, which he also deflected. Korra utilized every move in her arsenal, but the man simply shot her attacks away from himself. 

“Please, Korra,” He chastised. His voice was similar to Unalaq’s, but not quite. It was as if many voices were talking as he spoke. “I only want to talk to you.” 

Korra paused, her chest heaving and her fists clenched at her sides. “Tell me where my friends are.” 

“They’re exactly where you left them, somewhat. I do hope they do not get lost in my maze, but no matter. You’re who I’ve been eager to see.” 

“Who are you?” Korra demanded. The man chuckled, taking a few steps forward. He walked atop the water without making any ripples in the pool. 

“I understand that you have no connection to your past lives, is that correct? A shame, really. Aang might have been able to tell you a thing or two about my brother. Or my mother. He was quite familiar with them.” 

Korra’s dark brow furrowed as she thought back to all of the history lessons she had received in her training with the White Lotus. It was hard to separate what Kyoshi had done from Aang, Kuruk from Roku, without the connection of her past lives to guide her. It only added to the rage she already felt for this man before her.

The man chuckled. “Very well, if you’re lost, I will guide you. My brother is Koh, the Face Stealer. My mother is the Mother of Faces. My brother can steal a face, while my mother can restore them. I’m sure you remember the story of Prince Zuko and Ursa. Mother had given Ursa a new face and taken away her memories to ease her pain. She also restored them, years later.” 

“I’m not interested in the history lesson.” Korra cracked her knuckles. 

“Quite short tempered, you are. Unalaq had told me that much. He had said you wouldn’t be any fun to work with, but I’ve had great fun toying with you. Did you like the little pet I sent to you and your friends? She’s proven to be very useful in getting you here.” 

Korra blinked. “You’re the one that stole (Y/N’s) memories?” The man smiled, stretching out his arms. 

“Baat the Memory Stealer, at your service.” Korra waterbended from the pool, trying to unsteady him, but it was no use. He hovered above the water, amused with Korra’s actions. “Now, Korra, there’s no need to be upset. I only needed someone to help bring you back here, to me. That was your uncle’s intended purpose, but he was so power-hungry that I always knew I needed a back-up plan.” 

“You ruined her life!” 

Baat shrugged. “When I met her, it had seemed as if she had ruined it herself. I have been watching you a long while, Avatar. You young adults care very little for anything else except your relationships. I saw the heartbreak on (Y/N’s) face when she had seen you and the earthbender boy on your date. And then right after, she ran into the older brother. She needed a shoulder to cry on, and he left her waiting. I approached her in the park while she waited for him to arrive and offered her a cup of tea from my shop.” Baat smiled as he reminisced on the memory. “She told me of her troubles and said, ‘I just wish I could forget everything.’” His voice mimicked (Y/N’s) perfectly. “I was simply helping her.” 

“If you could travel to the mortal world, why not come to me directly? Why involve her in all of this?” 

“You weren’t a fully-fledged Avatar yet. You couldn’t even airbend! What use could I have for you then?” Baat stared down his nose at her. “I needed something to tug at the heartstrings, something that would guarantee that you come to me. What better than a heartbroken girl with no memories?” 

Korra set her jaw. “What do you want with me?” 

---

(Y/N) hissed as a tree branch snapped at her arm and rubbed at it to make the sting go away. She had been walking for ages and was unsure if she was really getting anywhere. Her flashlight was still bright, but she wasn’t certain it would last very long. None of them had been anticipating being lost in total darkness. 

A flame passed through the trees just a few inches to her right, narrowly missing her. She screamed, ducking down close to the ground, before jumping back up. Flames could mean firebenders! “Korra?” She shouted into the brush, trying to step over the branches to locate the source of the blast. “Mako!” 

“(Y/N)?” Mako shouted back. 

“Stay where you are, I’ll come to you!” They both said at the same time. Mako clambered over the roots to reach the sound of her voice. (Y/N) shined her flashlight all around her, growing desperate to find him, until she was pointing it directly into his eyes. Mako held up his hands to shield himself from the light and (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief. 

“Thank goodness you’re okay!” She wrapped her arms around his middle, squeezing him tightly and pressing her ear to his chest to make sure that she heard a normal heartbeat and not something Spirit World-y. She pulled away quickly and both were thankful neither could really see the blush on their face. 

“Are you alright?” Mako asked, analyzing her limbs for any sign of distress. (Y/N) nodded. 

“A little shaken up, but I’ll be fine. Have you seen Bolin or Korra?” Mako shook his head. (Y/N’s) hopeful face fell. She took Mako’s hand in hers. “Well, at least we’re together. We can find them better if we’re both looking.” 

Mako squeezed her hand, as if to silently say that he wouldn’t be letting go this time. (Y/N) led him back from where she had come, and they started their walk. “Do you know what happened back there?” 

(Y/N) shook her head. “There was the wind and then you guys were gone. I lost all of my supplies. I was worried I’d get stranded in here.” She laughed lightly to ease the mood. 

“I won’t be of much help in that department. I lost my pack in a tree.” 

“I don’t suppose I was a good forager when I had my memories?” 

“Not unless you count digging through my pockets to look for candies.” (Y/N) pursed her lips. 

Behind them, they heard the sound of an earthquake. The ground shook beneath their feet and Mako pulled (Y/N) into himself to help steady her. She shined her flashlight on the source of the movement and was grateful to see Bolin, a sigh of relief escaping her. 

He paused his earthbending as he came upon them, squinting his eyes to see in the sudden bright light. (Y/N) ran over to him and flung herself around him before he even had the chance to register who she was. “Are you alright?” She questioned, analyzing his limbs the same way Mako had hers. 

“I’m fine, just a little headache.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I think I got knocked out, or something.” 

“We’ll get Korra to heal you once we find her,” Mako said. 

“You guys haven’t found Korra yet?” (Y/N) shook her head. 

“I only found Mako a few minutes ago. I’m not sure how long we’ve been in here, but staying longer doesn’t seem like a good idea. We need to find Korra and get out of here.” 

“What about your memories?” Bolin set a hand on her shoulder. (Y/N) shook her head. 

“It’s not worth putting you guys in danger.” She hopped down from the mound Bolin had created with his earthbending. “I mean it,” She told the two brothers. “We’re finding Korra and we’re leaving.” 

---

Baat hummed, pressing his long fingers together as he thought. She had heard stories of Koh and the Mother of Faces, but she had never heard of this spirit. There were hundreds in the Spirit World, it was impossible for anyone to know them all. She wasn’t quite sure how, but she knew Baat was dangerous. He had stolen (Y/N’s) memories and could shapeshift. What else could he do? 

“I have been alive for many years,” The spirit said. “I remember the days of the first Avatars. I never saw any purpose of getting involved in their lives, or the lives of mortals. You all die just as quickly as you are born. My brother, though, he loved torturing mortals. It wasn’t until your uncle arrived, that my interest was piqued. A human hadn’t been here since Avatar Wan. I could tell he had immense power, and wanted more.” 

“It was only natural that he was drawn to Vaatu, but I watched. I, too, was tired of how you humans ripped the earth to shreds, and over trivial matters. You had no reverence for the spirits anymore.” 

“But I opened the Spirit Portals,” Korra interjected. “I’m helping bring harmony between the two worlds.” 

“Is that what you think you’re doing? You’ve interrupted life not only in your city, but in the Spirit World as well. You are too young, too rash, to usher in any sort of peace.” Baat inhaled a deep breath, shaking his head. “I knew your uncle wouldn’t be able to do it, either. He was too focused on what Vaatu could do for him. He was selfish, really. All I wanted from him was so he could bring you to me, but he failed at that. He wanted your power all to himself. What I am trying to do, Korra, is bring peace to all.” 

“How are you any different from Unalaq? You want my bending to yourself. You ruined lives for it!” 

Baat rolled his eyes. “Sometimes, sacrifices must be made for the greater good. You don’t think (Y/N) is better off, without her memories? I took away the pain she once had. I can take away everyone’s pain, if you would only give me what I want.” 

“Why would I ever give you my power?” 

“If you don’t, your friend won’t get her memories back.” 

Korra wished she could talk to Tenzin, to get some guidance on what to do. There was no way that she could hand her powers over to Baat. His claim of wanting to provide peace to the world was a farce. He knew that she knew that. But they had traveled here to get (Y/N’s) memories back. How could they leave without them? 

(Y/N) emerged from the darkness of the forest, with Bolin and Mako coming into view behind her. Her face lit up in relief as her eyes landed on Korra. She moved to run over to her friend, but Mako grabbed her by the elbow, his amber eyes trained on the being before them. 

“Ah, (Y/N),” Baat said with a smile, extending his arms out to her. “It’s so good to see you again. I’ve enjoyed watching your journey in the mortal world.” The pool beneath him flickered, showing her laughing with Bolin over toast, diving into the river on top of Naga with Korra, practicing her hand-to-hand combat with Asami, and lastly, Mako kissing her on the balcony of the ship. (Y/N) winced, shutting her eyes tightly. 

“You know him?” Bolin questioned, face looking pale from having just witnessed his brother kiss his ex-girlfriend. 

“She does, she just doesn’t realize it yet.” There was nothing familiar about the spirit in front of her, but (Y/N’s) blood ran cold with icy fear. If she had been scared in the forest, she was absolutely petrified standing in front of Baat. The worst part of it all was that she couldn’t tell why she was scared. This spirit had an effect on her that terrified her. “Although she could, if Korra agrees to my terms.” 

Korra’s hands clenched at her sides. She turned back to her friends. “If I don’t give him my powers, he won’t give (Y/N) back her memories.” 

(Y/N) felt her stomach drop. As intimidating as the Spirit World was, she had been hopeful that somehow, they would be able to get her memories back. She would leave this place knowing who she was and knowing her place in the world. 

But there was no way she could let Korra do this. She stepped out of Mako’s grip, walking down to stand beside her friend. The closer she got to Baat, the more she wanted to run, but she inhaled a deep breath and tried to pretend that her nerves were even. “Keep my memories,” She told Baat. 

His smile fell immediately. “(Y/N),” Korra started, but she shook her head. 

“I know what I’m doing. I know what it’s like to feel lost, Korra, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Especially not you.” She shrugged. “I’m not the same person I was and that’s okay.” (Y/N) turned to Baat, taking Korra’s hand in hers. “So we won’t be accepting your offer.” 

“I suppose if you won’t give me your powers, I’ll have to take them for myself.” His appearance as Unalaq fizzled out of existence, leaving in its place a snake-like creature that towered above them. He unhinged his jaw and a beam of bright light began forming inside, pointed directly at Korra. 

(Y/N) didn’t want to wait to see what would happen. She threw her flashlight upward, knocking Baat in the side of his head with the heavy metal. He went to the side and the light hit the trees, completely wilting them. 

“What an arm!” Bolin cheered, forming the same mound of earth that he had been traveling on. Mako joined him, and Korra did the same with (Y/N). They earthbended as quickly as they could into the forest, but Baat was slithering behind them, nipping at their heels. 

Mako utilized every firebending move he could without losing his balance. He had to defend not only himself and Bolin, but (Y/N) and Korra as well. The Avatar could only spare a few shots at the spirit until she had to return to earthbending, or else she and (Y/N) would be thrown off. (Y/N) felt helpless, wishing there was something she could do. 

Something heavy came down on top of her head, nearly knocking her over. She let out a shout before realizing what it was. In the flashes of light from Mako’s firebending, she saw his pack. Their movement must have dislodged it from the trees, causing it to fall. She reached out and grabbed it before it was lost forever and began digging around inside. 

She wasn’t sure if Mako had meant to take Asami’s pack, but she was pleasantly surprised to find the inventor’s electrified glove inside. If they made it out alive, (Y/N) would be sure to let Asami know just how much she loved her. 

(Y/N) had no idea how this glove was supposed to be used, but she knew she needed to wait for the right moment. Baat had paused in chasing after them, and was rearing his head back to power up his light blast. “Split up!” (Y/N) shouted to Korra and Bolin. The two crossed their earthbending mounds in front of each other, hoping to confuse the serpent. Without Mako’s fire, Korra and (Y/N) were left in the darkness. 

Korra kept pressing forward and (Y/N) was too worried to make a sound in case Baat had gotten them confused. All that could be heard was the movement of earth beneath them. (Y/N) was trying hard not to berate herself for these events. She had known that she had a strange feeling about being in the Spirit World. She had anticipated that there would be danger, but she never expected it to be anything like this. And now there was a giant serpent monster spirit thing chasing them so that it could gain Korra’s powers and take over the world. Fantastic day this was shaping up to be. 

And while everyone was so ready to put themselves in danger for her, (Y/N) felt horrible. She couldn’t bend. She had no way of protecting her friends like they were willing to do for her. 

“Thought you could hide from me, did you?” Baat’s voice loomed in the shadows. Korra paused her earth bending, leaving them both standing on top of a mound of dirt. She shot fire, air, and summoned water from the trees to attack Baat, but he was impossible to locate. The darkness of the forest surrounded them wholeheartedly. 

Korra lit fire in her palms to give them at least a bit of light. She looked over to (Y/N), and she noticed the hint of fear that was in the Avatar’s eyes. He had taken (Y/N’s) memories, what if he took hers? What if he ended up getting her powers after all? There would be no one there to stop him. 

(Y/N) swallowed. Korra was the strongest person she knew, and even she was scared. That thought should have terrified her. If Korra was scared, surely there was no hope for them. 

(Y/N) pressed her lips into a harsh line. No. She would not allow this to happen. Her friends had been willing to risk everything for her, and she would do the same for them. 

The light formed to their right, directly behind Korra. (Y/N) pushed her to the side and turned on the electricity glove. Even if it meant risking everything, she would do her best to protect them. 

She leapt off of the mound of dirt and into the blinding light. 

---

Asami and Tonraq had been through so many games of Pai Sho, they had lost count. Each hour that her friends were gone, Asami grew more nervous. “Does time pass differently in there?” She asked Tonraq. He smiled at her and shook his head. 

Asami gnawed on her bottom lip. It had been over twelve hours since she had watched her friends pass into the Spirit World. She knew she was being overly optimistic when she had expected it to be a sort of in-and-out situation, but three of the best benders she knew were in there. Surely if something went wrong, they would be able to handle it. 

She hoped that Mako had found the glove she had placed in his pack and given it to (Y/N). While (Y/N) had done great in her training, Asami knew firsthand how easy it was to forget everything as soon as you were faced with the first inkling of danger. She would have given it to (Y/N) outright, but she was sure the girl would have refused. “You need this to protect yourself!” She could hear (Y/N) insisting. Asami smiled wryly as she moved her Pai Sho tile. 

Tonraq heard them before she did. The crunch of boots against snow was barely audible, but he was so much more accustomed to the silence than Asami was. He stood and Asami scrambled up to join him, leaving the Pai Sho tiles forgotten between them. Although her jacket and pants were bulky, she ran to the best of her ability to meet her friends. 

The bright smile on her face faded instantly, and she brought a hand to her mouth in horror. In Bolin’s arms lay an unnaturally limp (Y/N). Her clothes were singed, and in some areas the cloth melded with her skin in horrible burns. Her head rested against Bolin’s chest, but it bobbed back and forth as he walked. 

Korra looked to her father, her bottom lip trembling. “I need your help,” She said, her voice sounding authoritative yet hollow. Asami knew that she felt the need to be the strongest among everyone, but even Korra was known to falter. “I tried my best in the Spirit World, but I couldn’t get her to wake up. I--I tried really hard, Dad, I don’t know why she isn’t waking up.” Korra’s eyes welled with tears. 

“Asami,” Tonraq said, and she snapped back to reality. She tore her eyes from (Y/N’s) form to look at him. “Gather all of the blankets and place them in my tent.” She nodded and started rummaging through their packs, pulling out blankets and laying them on the floor of Tonraq’s large tent. Mako soon joined her, his face looking blank and sallow. He leaned down to the firepit in the middle of the tent and lit it. 

“Mako,” Asami started, but he didn’t look at her. “What happened?” 

“I didn’t see it,” Mako said, his voice breaking. He cleared his throat. “She was with Korra.” 

Tonraq entered the tent with (Y/N) in his arms, Bolin and Korra only a few steps behind. He lay (Y/N) atop the blankets. “I need everyone out of the tent except Korra,” He said, giving them an order but doing so gently. “She’s the only one who can help me heal her.” 

Nodding, Asami pulled the two brothers out of the tent. Bolin’s eyes were rimmed red with tears, but Mako was frozen, his head hanging as he stared down at the ground. “Can someone please tell me what happened while you guys were in there?” 

Bolin told Asami the whole story starting at the very beginning, from Iroh’s house to Baat chasing them through the dark forest. “(Y/N) told us to split up,” He said, struggling to form the words as sobs clawed their way up his throat. “Mako and I weren’t anywhere near them when it happened. Korra told us that Baat had been behind her, so (Y/N) noticed him first. She pushed Korra away and jumped right in his mouth, just before he used his powers on Korra.” 

“We met up with them again outside the forest,” He continued. “There was a huge explosion. Korra thinks that she used your glove inside of him. When we found Korra, she was trying to heal her.” Bolin closed his eyes, trying to block the memory of (Y/N’s) lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. “Korra managed to bring her back, but she kept fading away.” 

Mako remained silent, but Asami noticed as the tears he blinked away landed in the snow. “I’m sure she’ll be okay,” Asami said, trying her best to remain positive, although their odds weren’t looking great. From what Bolin had told her, it sounded like (Y/N) had been at the very center of an explosion. The electricity of the glove was enough to incapacitate anyone, but that coupled with the energy of a spirit...Asami had no clue what that could mean. At the very least, she believed it to be a miracle that (Y/N) was still in one piece. 

They waited around the fire in silence as Tonraq and Korra worked. The sun was starting to rise over the horizon before they heard anything. Korra stepped out of the tent, her cheeks puffed from the tears she had shed throughout the night. Asami ran over to her first, wrapping Korra in a hug. Korra gripped her tightly, burying her face in her neck. The sobs that she had been holding in so she could work escaped her body all at once, leaving her a heaving mess in Asami’s arms. 

Tears flowed freely from Asami’s green eyes. If Korra was this upset, it could only mean the worst. Mako kicked a log from the fire pit into the snow before storming off. Bolin collapsed back into his seat, staring straight ahead. He had just gotten (Y/N) back and now he was losing her all over again. 

Tonraq stepped out of the tent, waiting until the friends had gained some of their composure to speak. “She’s more stable than she was,” He told them. “But I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to wake her up. We have to get her back to Kya as soon as possible.” 

He radioed for Varrick, who sent one of his commercial planes to pick them up within the hour. Tonraq remained in the Southern Water Tribe, but instructed them to keep him updated on everything that was happening. (Y/N) and Korra remained in the back of the plane so she could perform healing if necessary, and the rest of the group sat tensely as they flew back to Republic City. 

The plane landed on Air Bender Island and Kya and Tenzin boarded before anyone could exit. Tenzin took (Y/N) into his arms and whisked her off into the house’s back rooms. Korra stood up to follow, but Kya pressed a hand to her chest to stop her. “It’s not your fault, but you are too out of control of your emotions. You’ll do more harm than good.” With that, she went to join her brother. 

Pema stepped onto the plane then. Normally she had children running at her heels, but it was as if everyone could tell the weight of today. “Why don’t you all come inside and rest?” 

---

It was an entire two weeks of hushed whispers and “adult” discussions. One by one, Asami, Bolin, and Mako returned to their homes, requesting that Korra notify them as soon as there was any news. Bolin and Mako were keen on staying on Air Temple Island, but were forced by Tenzin to go home and at least change their clothes. 

So Korra sat on the island and trained, trying to do absolutely anything that would keep her mind off of the girl that lay in the back room of the house. Truly, things were not going very well for Korra. The city was angry over the Spirit World vines that had grown over its property. It was like no matter what she did to make people happy, it always backfired. 

Korra was fast asleep when she heard Naga growl at the door. A knock sounded against the wood, and a groggy Korra opened the door as she wiped sleep away from her eyes. Kya stood before her, a slight smile on her face. “She’s awake.” 

Korra didn’t hesitate to run down the hall, Naga barreling after her. She flew through the door, startling (Y/N). Naga bounded inside, licking a stripe up (Y/N’s) cheek. The girl laughed, wiping at the slobber with a bandaged arm. “Hey, Korra,” She croaked, her voice husky from not being used for weeks. 

The Avatar flew forward, wrapping her arms around her friend. “I’m--Wow! You’re back. And you remember who I am!” 

(Y/N) nodded. “I remember everything.” 

“Everything?” (Y/N) nodded excitedly. 

“It’s a little overwhelming, having so many memories in my head now.” She squeezed Korra’s hand. 

“I’m so glad you have your memories back. Now I won’t feel as bad for doing this.” She slapped an uninjured part of (Y/N’s) arm. “What were you thinking!” 

“I was thinking about how you guys risked your lives to help me! And I had to do the same for you.” 

“There’s only enough room for one reckless person on this team, thank you very much.” Still, Korra couldn’t help but grin. The past few months had been the hardest of her life, but at least (Y/N) was okay. 

Asami was the first to arrive. She had been up late tinkering with an idea for her company, so she had come as soon as Korra told her. Much like Korra, she too hugged (Y/N) and then promptly berated her for her actions. “I wouldn’t have given you the glove if you were planning on killing yourself!” 

“It was more a spur of the moment decision than anything,” (Y/N) laughed. 

Bolin came next, later in the morning. Since her legs were still badly burned and she hadn’t used them in weeks, Korra wheeled (Y/N) out into the courtyard so he could see her. With her memories back, (Y/N) was overcome with emotion at the sight of him. As he approached her, she realized he was crying, too, but the smile on his face was as wide as ever. 

He kneeled down so he was eye level with her. “We have to talk,” She said immediately, and Bolin’s eyes widened. 

“Are you sure? You just woke up last night, we don’t have to do anything if you’re not--” She shook her head to cut him off. 

“My mother made me break up with you. She said I’d lose my job if I stayed with you and with that, my house. I didn’t want to, Bolin, but I didn’t really see myself having another choice. You and Mako already struggled so much just to take care of yourselves. I thought it would just be easier if I cut things off completely. But I realized soon after that the life my mother wanted me to have wasn’t the life I wanted to lead. So I came to find you. And that’s when I saw you on the date with Korra. I didn’t know who she was, I just thought you had moved on. I ran into Mako and he told me to wait for him at the park. That’s where Baat found me, except then he looked like a very nice old lady.” 

“She, or he, rather, could tell I was upset and invited me for tea. I figured I could kill a few hours before Mako was done with practice, so I went. I poured my heart out to Baat and told him that I wished I could forget everything. The next thing I know, I woke up where all of this started. I think Baat kept me in a sort of trance-like state until I could be of use to him.” She inhaled a deep breath once she finished. “I’m really sorry for all the hurt I caused you, Bolin.” 

Bolin smiled and took her hand in his. “It’s okay, (Y/N).” 

“I didn’t mean it when I told you I didn’t love you.” Bolin knew her well enough to hear the “but” before it came. “I loved you so much, Bolin.” 

“But if things had been different…” He trailed off. The sting was much lesser than it had been before. Bolin supposed this was only natural. It had been over a year since they had been together. If he really dove into his own feelings, he had a hard time discerning between nostalgia and the present. 

“Are you mad at me?” (Y/N) asked, her voice incredibly soft. Bolin’s green eyes flashed. 

“Of course I’m not mad at you,” He said. “You have to do what’s best for you. Just...promise me you won’t disappear again?” 

(Y/N) grinned, wrapping her arms around Bolin’s shoulders. “I promise.” 

Mako couldn’t arrive until later in the day, when the sun was already beginning to set over Republic City. He had gotten the news that (Y/N) was awake earlier in the day, but he had already been at work, and there was no way the Chief would let him off his shift after a two week vacation. He rushed to Air Temple Island as soon as he was relieved. He would have extra paperwork to do in the morning, but he figured it was worth it. 

Korra directed Mako to where (Y/N) sat in the gazebo. They had moved a bench there so she could sit and get some more fresh air. He cleared his throat as he approached her from behind. (Y/N) turned to look back at him, a smile on her face. 

“Nice uniform,” She quipped. “Are you gonna ticket me?” He glanced at the wheelchair to her side. 

“Only if you don’t follow the speed limit,” He said back, and (Y/N) laughed. He took a seat beside her on the bench. “How are you feeling?” 

“My head feels really heavy,” She told him. “I never thought memories carried so much weight, but it feels like I’ve got ten bricks on my shoulders.” 

“You have your memories back?” 

She nodded. “Every single one of them. I wished I could’ve let go of the embarrassing ones, but oh well.” They sat for a few moments, watching the sun crawl further and further below the horizon. 

(Y/N) hadn’t anticipated how many memories she would have of Mako. She saw flashes of cheering him and Bolin on at their probending competitions. He used to bring home her own order of dumplings whenever he brought Bolin’s. Giving her his jacket when they were caught in the rain, and Mako’s lips turning up at the corners at a joke she had told. But one memory stood out above them all, so apparent that she wondered how Baat had even been able to erase it. 

She remembered the memory that Mako had shared with her a few weeks back, while they sat around the fire pit before entering the Spirit World. They had sat for hours together, just talking, until Bolin had gotten home. (Y/N) had gone up to bed with him, but returned downstairs a few hours later, battling a fit of sleeplessness. She had been surprised to see Mako still sitting on the couch, listening to the low hum of the radio. 

“Can’t sleep?” She had whispered, and Mako’s eyes snapped up to look at hers. He gave her a half smile before nodding. She had joined him on the couch, pulling her knees into her chest. “What’s on your mind?” 

“Nothing,” Mako said dismissively, but (Y/N) had been around him enough to know when he was lying. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” She said. “But I’m always here for you, Mako. Contrary to popular belief, you don’t have to do everything yourself.” 

“I’ve got Bolin.” 

“And me, too.” Mako remained silent, so (Y/N) hadn’t pressed further. Instead, she hummed along to the music playing on the radio. “Do you know this song?” It was something slow and sweet, lacking any vocals but the instruments succeeded in carrying it. 

Mako nodded. “Mom and Dad used to dance to it.” 

(Y/N) stood, offering Mako a hand. “Dance with me?” He stared at her, an amused eyebrow raised. “As friends,” She had added, because for some reason she felt the need to clarify. 

“I can’t dance,” Mako admitted. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him to his feet. 

“It’s not that hard, unless you’re doing some super advanced moves.” She slotted her fingers in his and placed his other hand at the small of her back. She rested her other hand at the back of his neck. “You just move in time with the music.” She stepped back, and Mako’s foot followed her. They stepped around the living room, Mako’s eyes flickering between (Y/N’s) face and their feet the entire time. “You’re doing great!” She exclaimed quietly. 

“I think I’m supposed to be leading.” 

“I thought you couldn’t dance?” Mako smirked as if he was hiding a secret from her. As far as (Y/N) knew, he could have been. 

At the very heart of the song, where the music was the most powerful, he spun her around with one arm. (Y/N) let out a surprised squeak before having the breath knocked out of her by Mako dipping her down. She stared up at his amber eyes, taking note of how their faces were only inches apart. 

He brought her back up and (Y/N) had felt dizzy, although she wasn’t sure if that was from the spin or being so close to Mako. He gave her an amused bow. “Thanks for the dance,” He said, before retiring to his bedroom. 

In the present day, (Y/N) inhaled a deep breath. She hadn’t realized it then, but she had always felt something for Mako. And it was stronger now than ever before. 

Without looking at him, she inched her hand closer to his, wrapping her fingers around his gloved hand. Mako stared at her, surprised. “I thought you remembered everything about you and Bolin.” 

She nodded, still refusing to look at him. If she did, she feared that she would lose her nerves. “I do. But I remember everything about you, too, and--” She sighed. “I’m doing a horrible job at this.” 

“I’m having fun,” Mako told her, and she glared at him. Her heart nearly melted at the soft expression on his face. Mako rarely showed such tender emotion. 

“I need to do something and I need you to be quiet while I do it,” She told him, and Mako chuckled at the callback to that night on the balcony. She leaned forward slowly, her heart beating a thousand beats a minute. Every nerve in her body felt like it was short circuiting and she paused, looking up at Mako. He smiled down at her before meeting her in the middle and pressing their lips together. 

For weeks, (Y/N) had thought that the part of her that had been missing were her memories. As it turned out, it was Mako.

---

TAG LIST

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[vannahfanfics]

Hewwo!! So I found this Rarepair heaven, and absoLUTELY fell in love with it! So much so that I decided to request something for the first time ever! I'm sorry if you're not taking requests right now, its totally fine if you ignore this forever, but...but..would you mind doing a BakuJirou fic? It could be about anything and everything, but I really need some BakuJirou fluff to blow my mind right about now! Thanks in advance!!

Ahhh, thank you for the praise, Anon! Thank you for your patience; here is your BakuJiro story, and I hope you like it enough to request again sometime!

Urban Harmony

The rain drummed rhythmically against the sloped roof of the bus stop booth. Through lidded eyes, Kyoka watched the water stream down the frosted glass sides; the sparse light played across the running water, making rippling ribbons of white dance across her form. They frolicked over the cozy fabric of her knitted gray sweater before jumping down to the denim of her ripped skinny jeans before diving down to her Converse, where puddles of rainwater were beginning to accumulate from the day’s torrential downpour. 

Most people would enjoy the pattering of the rain, the squeaking of the tires against wet tar, and the humming of the car engines blending into a strangely soothing urban harmony. However, Kyoka preferred her own soundtrack to her daily grind; her earbuds were nestled snugly into her ears pumping heady rock music into the canals. She bobbed her head to the beat, mostly oblivious to the people trudging by clutching their umbrellas and splashing the puddles with their rain boots. Sheltering from the rain while listening to her favorite music had a certain catharsis to it, one that was making Kyoka sleepy and slightly wishing for time to stop for just a little while. 

The harsh scrape of sneaker soles against wet concrete rose above her music, prompting her to tear her gaze away from the hypnotizing waterfall-like stream of rain cascading down the glass wall of the bus stop. A boy was trudging toward her, his arms buried in his hoodie pockets and his head hunched down. A backpack rustled on his back, looking laden with books. He lacked an umbrella, so the rain beat down upon him with a fury, soaking the red fabric of his jacket a deep maroon. As he glanced up, she could see vermilion eyes peeking out below sodden ash-gray bangs. 

They were more mesmerizing than the falling rain, and her heart fluttered. 

“This seat taken?” he grunted, speaking loudly to overpower her earbuds. Kyoka shook her head firmly and slid to the side of the bench to give him more room, or maybe to push herself as far away as she could from his intimidating aura. The boy plopped down on the bench and dropped his book bag on a dry patch of concrete with a weary sigh, leaning back and stretching out his legs just enough to not be obnoxious. As he tipped his head over the back of the bench, Kyoka watched the rise and fall of his breaths with pinkening cheeks, swearing she could see the muscles rippling beneath the fabric. 

“Fuck,” the boy groaned, not aware that Kyoka had turned down her music to listen to him. “Shoulda checked the weather forecast today… I’m gonna be pissed if my textbooks are soaked.” He leaned forward to unzip his bag and rifle through it, checking their condition. Kyoka curiously craned her head to peek, growing impressed when she spotted large law textbooks in the gloom of the back. She jerked when he abruptly zipped the backpack shut and tossed a glare at her, his red eyes flashing. It wasn’t malicious, though— more like amused. 

“Nosy, aren’tcha?” 

Kyoka ignored the barb to swiftly reply, “You study law?” 

“That’s right,” the stranger said as he reclined back against the bench, nestling one arm behind his head while the other fished in his pocket for his phone. “I’m a first-year at the university down the way,” he explained with a nod of his head in the direction from which he’d come. “My apartment is pretty far, though, so I have to wait for this goddamn bus.” Kyoka snickered at his brusqueness, watching in curiosity as he unspooled his earbuds from around the phone and shoved one deep into his ear. He left the other dangling, implying that he was at least mildly interested in her. She decided to oblige his silent invitation. 

“I go to that university too. I study music.” 

“In theory or in practice?” 

“Practice. I’m a singer and guitarist.” 

He whistled appreciatively, his red eyes flickering to her for a moment before looking back down at his screen. He pressed a button, then frowned, jabbing at the screen with his thumb. He then ripped the earbuds out with a growl. 

“Pieces of shit… They’ve gone and died on me,” he muttered, squinting at the earbuds as he held them up. He flung them into the nearby trashcan and flopped back against the bench, radiating irritation. Kyoka fidgeted next to him, a blush rising to her cheeks alongside a ridiculous idea, but her tongue ended up acting on it anyway. 

“Um… The bus is gonna be a while, so… You could share my earbuds if you like,” she offered meekly. The red-eyed boy glanced at her critically, looking her up and down to study her as if she were suspicious. After a second of contemplation, he shrugged and scooched closer to her; as their legs brushed, Kyoka’s face grew a whole shade darker. Her fingers trembled as she pulled the earbud out of her ear and held it out to him. She hoped he couldn’t feel her quivering when their fingers touched for the briefest second as he took it and jammed it into his ear. Kyoka switched her earbud to the opposite ear before pulling up her music playlist, leaning in to show him her phone screen. 

“I’m not sure what kind of music you like, but, you’re welcome to look.” 

He wordlessly took her phone to scroll through the options, eventually settling on a soft rock song. Kyoka took her cellphone back and held it to her chest as the music began to slow from the tiny speakers, accented by the pounding of the rain in her opposite ear and the silence growing between them. 

“You’ve got good taste,” he remarked after a minute. She looked up with a slight gasp to see him staring out at the road, eyes lidded as he watched the cars trundle by. “So, what do you want to do with your degree, Earbuds?” he asked, looking out of the corners of his eyes at her. She flushed at the sudden nickname and squirmed in her seat, gaze dropping. 

“My mother and father are both retired musicians who own a record label and instrument design company. I’d like to become a performer myself, but if that doesn’t work out, I can take over the business.” 

“Well, at least you’ve got a back-up plan. You look too smart to be some starry-eyed girl who swears she’s gonna be the next big thing,” he smirked, and Kyoka smiled thinly, unsure if it was a compliment or an insult. Sensing what she was about to ask, he smugly puffed out his chest and announced, “I’m studying law to be a prosecutor. One day I’m gonna become the most famous and feared attorney in all of Japan.” 

“You’re the one who sounds like a starry-eyed girl dreaming of being the next big thing,” Kyoka laughed, making the boy look at her with an indignant chuff. As she snickered, holding her curled finger up to her lips, the tension slowly melted from his body. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, crossing his arms and looking back at the road. “Laugh all ya want, but it’s the truth, Earbuds.” Looking at him, at his confident posture and cocksure smirk, she could believe it. He seemed like the type of guy to chase down his dream and wrestle it into submission no matter how many obstacles were thrown in his path. 

“Kyoka,” she corrected him after a bit of silence, making him look at her with a raised eyebrow. “My name is Kyoka.” 

“That so, Earbuds?” Kyoka had to smile at his complete indifference and insistence upon calling her the nickname. She liked the familiarity of it, though they were no more than strangers who’d met at the bus stop. “My name’s Katsuki Bakugo. Nice to meet you, or whatever small talk bullshit you’d like me to spout.” Kyoka giggled; he really was an asshole but in the most charming way. He was doing it on purpose, too, based on the smirk dancing over his lips. 

“I’m not into small talk,” she said with a small smirk of her own. “I much prefer the rain.” Katsuki snorted, then leaned his head back against the bench to stare out into the street. The both of them watched the rain pour from the heavens, soaking up into the sparse bits of grass lining the sidewalks to flood the soil into little lakes. It slicked the road, causing the car tires to squeal and fling water as the vehicles trundled down the road. Passersby scurried along hoping to escape the deluge before it got worse, the lucky ones huddled underneath umbrellas or clad in rain jackets. The rain drummed in the background of the soft rock drifting out of her earbuds, peaceful and soothing. 

She found her eyes drifting to Katsuki. His vermilion eyes were lidded as he stared out into the street, and his cut jawline shone with the rain still drying on his skin. His ash blond hair was clumped and poofy from being under his wet hood. He looked roguish, but handsomely so, and it made Kyoka’s heart pound. She gripped her phone tight, but insodoing she accidentally brushed her thumb across the screen and skipped the song. 

“Yo, what the fuck?” Katsuki griped, making her jump. “I was listening to that.” 

“S-sorry.” 

Katsuki peered at her with scrupulous eyes, making her squirm uncomfortably. 

“Come on, Earbuds. I’m not that intimidating, am I?” he asked with a huff. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and cheeks in his hands. Kyoka flushed in embarrassment, wiggling a little on the seat. 

“It’s not that, necessarily,” she said and chewed on the inside of her cheek as she ruminated on asking him for his phone number. I mean, he’s a handsome guy! I’m single, he… might be single, she debated. Kyoka hadn’t hadn’t dated much, as no boys had ever really caught her eye, but Katsuki just… felt right. Deciding there was no time besides the present, she quickly forced out, “It’s just that you’re really nice-looking, ya know? That unnerves a girl.” 

Katsuki stared owlishly at her for a second, surprised by her admission. Then, a wicked smirk spread across his lips, his ego skyrocketing at the compliment. 

“Oh? Aren’t you forward?” he chuckled. His wet clothes squeaked a little as he slowly straightened up. While maintaining eye contact with the blushing Kyoka, he reached out to take her phone with her. She could only watch, heart thumping, while he put his contact information into her phone. “Lucky for you, I like that in a girl, so I’ll humor you,” he said while continuing to smile smugly. He all but flopped her phone back into her hands, but she was so high-strung and stunned that her fingers only twitched a little around it. 

He then looked out into the street as headlights spilled around the corner, refracting on the water and making the street look like it was covered by glittering diamonds. Finally recovering some neuron function, Kyoka realized that it was the bus. Katsuki looked back to her, smirking. 

“So, you mind sharing your earbuds with me a little while longer? Least you can do, considering I’m probably gonna take you on a date,” he said playfully. Kyoka’s cheeks lit up like Christmas lights, hot and cherry-red. Still, she nodded meekly, not wishing to abandon Katsuki’s company just yet. The rain would continue to fall for a while yet, after all…

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[beatricethecat2]

"No joy," Myka says, peeking into the static bag.

"That was the correct part, was it not?" Helena enlarges the photo on Myka's phone of a nineteenth-century elevator car housed at the Warehouse.

"I'm pretty sure. But that picture's not great." Myka slides the handle out and plops it back in to the tune of no sparks.

Helena noses around the storage space as The Dakota building's manager walks in.

"Maybe what you're looking for's in here," he says, plunking down a milk crate full of parts. "When they renovate, they save anything original."

"It's an elevator handle. From the original manual ones. Just not this one." Myka slips the part from the bag and holds it up.

"Might be in Ms. Shiva's apartment then. Parents took two cars and made them into a bar. Or could be from the one that went missing, the mysterious fourth car."

Myka and Helena share a concerned look, knowing the Warehouse took it without permission.

"Can we see the other two?" Myka asks.

"Look just like that one." The man points toward the ornately carved wooden car on the other side of the room. "Handle's that important to you, huh?"

"As architectural historians? Yes," Helena snips in a clipped, scholarly tone.

"Alright. Gimme a minute." He slips his phone out of its belt clip and walks out of the room.

Helena picks through dust-covered items in the crate. "This may be a lost cause."

"It must be upstairs. The walls are so thick, the ping could have come from anywhere."

"You said 'pickup,' not 'ping.'"

"Claudia called it a pickup yesterday! Today she called it a ping."

Helena huffs a disgruntled breath.

The manager waves a hand from the doorway. "She said it's ok to come up."

Myka follows the man, but Helena hangs back.

"Aren't you coming?" 

"I...should look through this crate."

"You know more about this stuff than me. You should come with."

"Myka, I...."

Myka steps closer and lowers her voice. "I know you're not happy about being here, but I really need your help."

Helena holds Myka's gaze but doesn't move.

"Please."

Helena nods an apprehensive yes.

"You'll tell me what's going on with you later, right?"

Helena nods again, with equal apprehension.

Myka grimaces. "Come on."

They follow the manager out of the room and into the elevator to the fourth floor.

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

The Adventures of Wells and Bering ("Warehouse 13" Season 5 replacement) Season 1: Episode 3 Title: New York City: I'm buggin' out!

Summary: After three blissful days holed up in their Philadelphia hotel room, Myka receives a call from the Warehouse asking for help. Helena proclaims New York "a cesspool" when told the pickup is in the city. Myka laughs when told Helena was last there in 1893. Told she can stay behind, Helena follows anyway, the pair taking the train to avoid driving. Helena tells tales of city adventures with her partner Wolcott as she and Myka make their way uptown. Helena tenses upon arrival at their destination, so much so, Myka can tell something is off.  Later that day, Helena reveals a long buried secret.

Previously: Episode 1, Episode 2

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

***BONUS SCENES***

After a less than jovial dinner (pictured above), Myka and Helena settle into their hotel room. Myka lounges in bed, already showered, wearing shorts and a t-shirt, nose buried in a book. Helena searches through her luggage after emerging from a shower swathed only in a robe.

"I know dinner wasn't great," Myka says, setting her book on the nightstand, "but something else's off. You've been weirdly touchy all day."

"I apologize for not being, as Claudia might say, 'all sunshine and rainbows.'" Helena yanks a t-shirt out of her suitcase. "Perhaps we should call the whole thing off." 

"What 'thing'?"

"This trip."

"Why?" Myka sits up.

"Because me being sullen is not an anomaly." 

"I know."

"Then why on earth would you subject yourself to that again?" Helena turns to face Myka and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Because you promised when you got like this you'd talk to me and I believed you."

"Fool," Helena says, the word filled with fondness rather than bite.

"Come here," Myka says, patting a spot next to her.

Helena stares at the bed but doesn't move.

"Come here..."

Helena's eyes lift to meet Myka's; the longer they stay locked, the less defiance they hold. She huffs a disgruntled breath but does as she's told. She sits stiffly, arms folded over her chest, back propped up against the headboard.

"Now, tell me what happened in that building," Myka says, laying back, turning to face Helena, head propped up by a hand. "Remember, I said I wouldn't judge you."

"You say that now..." Helena says, glancing at Myka.

"I won't," Myka says, slipping her hand over Helena's and squeezing, dragging it down to her lap, breaking her protective arm-fold.

"Where to begin," Helena grumbles, pressing her eyes closed, head falling back against the wall.

"How about..." Myka scoots up, aligning herself with Helena, all the while keeping hold of her hand. "The first time you were there, finding that artifact."

Helena rolls her head to the side and meets Myka's gaze.

Myka raises her brow and grins expectantly.

"Oh, alright," Helena grumps, sighing deeply, then lifting her head from the headboard.

"Wolly posed as an investor, and I, his wife. He and I were given guest accommodations, courtesy of Gustav Schirmer, a music publisher. We had a vague idea of what the curiosity was but needed time and access to suss out its location."

"I bet you and Wolly made a better couple than Pete and I ever did," Myka quips.

Helena huffs a short laugh. "People like us 'acted the part' on a daily basis. Anything beyond that was an extension of those fabricated selves. One had to switch 'on' any number of personas just to keep safe. It was difficult at times to remember our true selves."

"I'm sorry. That sucks."

"Easier for me than others. Though in that regard, I'm glad society seems to have changed for the better." Helena meets Myka's gaze, her eyes falling to her lips.

"Me too," Myka says as Helena cups her jaw, guiding their mouths together.

Their kiss lingers but as Helena's hand slides to the nape of Myka's neck, Myka pulls away.

"Story first," Myka says, slipping her hand over Helena's, lifting it away.

Helena pouts.

"After." Myka caresses Helena's cheek, then places a soft, brief kiss there. "I promise."

"I shall hold you to that."

"Oh, I know," Myka says, smiling. She settles back and waits as Helena collects her thoughts.

"The Dakota was unique,' Helena begins, "its design, the first of its kind in the world. A playground for 'new money,' miles away from 'civilization' further downtown. Few dared travel that far north, so their soirees were rather insular."

"That's good, right? Easier to find the artifact?" Myka says.

"Indeed. Gustav adored hosting events, along with the Steinways. Guests chased tunes all over the building as engagements spilled between apartments. Wolly and I snooped around gratuitously."

"Steinways...as in the grand-piano-maker Steinways?"

"The very same," Helena mumbles. Her eyes turn distant, a thumb rubbing idly over a knuckle, her hands linked primly on her lap. 

"Did you find the artifact?" Myka asks.

"Hmm? Oh...yes. But it took quite some time," Helena answers. "And along the way, I found something far more profound." She looks down at her lap, her hands pulling away from each other, tensing. 

"What was it?"

"I found my One."

"Y-You had a One?" Myka says, stiffening.

"All too briefly," Helena says, then glances at Myka. "To have found another is a kindness beyond anything I'd ever imagined. I'm sorry it took so long for me to believe it possible."

"You mean me?"

"I do." Helena brings Myka's hand up to her lips and kisses its palm.

"I, um, guess it's silly to be jealous of someone who lived over a hundred years ago. Especially since I know nothing about them." Myka scoots closer, cozying up to Helena. "Will you tell me?"

"Would you like to know?"

"I want to know everything about you."

"That may take some time."

"We have time, don't we?"

"Time has never been my ally. Especially with the ones I love."

"Let's change that." Myka tugs on Helena's sleeve, and the pair slip down to lie prone on the bed. She turns and snuggles up, head pillowed on Helena's shoulder, arm resting across her middle. Helena relaxes into Myka's hold and wraps an arm over Myka's.

"Tell me about your One," Myka says. "Or, your 'first' One."

"She...was an extraordinary woman," Helena answers. "Unlike any I'd ever known. We bonded instantly, which was unusual."

"How did you meet?"

"I caught her hiding from the merriment during a soiree, nose tucked in a book. One Mrs. Elizabeth Westcott." Helena smiles, obviously warmed by the memory.

"Mrs.?"

"A marriage for appearances; personal gain for two up-and-coming families. Residing at The Dakota allowed her husband to carry on extramarital affairs with less scrutiny. He cared little about her own."

"So you and she..."

"If those walls could talk," Helena says, her smile bordering on devilish. "We had several glorious years together before she..." Her smile fades in an instant.

"I'm afraid to ask."

"She died, as one does when one's husband's mistress plots to kill you."

"S-She was murdered?"

"Freak carriage accident. Never proven, but everyone knew. To ensure Elizabeth never gave him an heir, after Christina. The irony being we'd planned on running away to California soon enough--"

"Wait, Christina was Elizabeth's?" Myka lifts her head to look Helena in the eye.

"I loved her as if she were my own," Helena snaps, "spirited her away to England as soon as I could, with the housekeeper's help."

"You stole her?" Myka pushes away, falling back on her elbows, mouth agape.

"I rescued her," Helena barks, jerking upright. "That monstrous woman still had talons in her father. There was no doubt Christina wasn't safe. It's what Elizabeth would have wanted." 

Helena moves to leave, but Myka grabs her arm.

"Don't go," Myka pleads. "I'm sorry. I said I wouldn't judge you."

Helena freezes in place, her heart pounding wildly. A few moments later, she returns to Myka's side.

"Did anyone come looking for her?" Myka asks, pushing forward so as not to leave Helena stewing.

"I don't know. I doubt they could find me as only Elizabeth knew my true identity. And I never set foot in New York again."

"So literally 1893."

Helena nods, the sour look on her face softening. "I'd thought to visit her grave but haven't found the courage."

"You should go. We could go together. It'll give you closure."

"You sound so certain."

"I know it will help. I've loved and lost, too, you know."

"Indeed, you have, my love," Helena says, then sighs heavy-heartedly. "What a pair we make."

"I think we're a good match," Myka says, tugging Helena back to lie flat again. "We could take our minds off it. Make some new, pleasant memories." She slips a hand under the tie of Helena's robe.

"You did make a promise earlier," Helena replies.

"And I always make good on my promises," Myka says, drawing the tie free, brushing a fingertip over newly exposed skin. Helena quivers and relaxes back, offering no resistance as Myka fulfills her word.

End of Episode 3

-TBC-

NOTES: According to the internet, the term "buggin'" was coined in New York City. The fourth elevator really did go missing during The Dakota renovations in the 1960's (pre-landmarking). Thank you to the library for being open so I could borrow books and down some facts as this got way more involved than I meant it to become (but that's part of the fun).

This story format is...in my head, I'm calling it "TV POV." If we were watching the show, we'd see things but not hear the character's thoughts, so that's what I'm going for, I think? Broad strokes and quicker resolutions due to the 45 minute-ish run time (or would this show be a 25 minute one? Hmm.) Let me know if that's not working at all. I mean these are obviously pastiches of content - the images come first then the stories materialize afterwards. They are supposed to be short and clippy - plenty of room for the reader to fill in the blanks - but this one got away from me! Also Tumblr keeps making the second image blurry and I can't figure out why...

[alyx-the-writer]

Andrew Being Protective Of All Foxes

I know I know but hear me out.

Andrew is really protective over what he considers his

Andrew (unconsciously) starts conidering the Foxes his

With everything about ‘we are Foxes’ and shit you could see he truly started to think of himself as one of them

Before it was an ‘us against them’. (Also I got the impression the only reason he accepted Wymack’s offer was so Nicky and Aaron could get free college and he could keep them with him longer) So he never considered himself part of them

Anyway. Andrew starts to get protective over all of them

Renee (he was always kinda protective over her though.)

For her it’s little changes because in a way Renee was already his.

Andrew hates the press and they hate him, he doesn’t talk and when he does it’s just an insult or a firm but bored no

But Renee is a common face for press duty. Most think of her as the sweetheart and don’t really look past that

She has kind smiles while the rest of the Foxes look kinda feral when they smile even if they don’t mean to.

So, Once when Renee was on press duty and Andrew was either there or listening the reporter brought up her past. Something the press and shit don’t really talk about.

Andrew just kinda shows up, between her and the reporters and smiles

(It’s always been my headcanon that Andrew only smiles and laughs when angry when someone has managed to truly piss him off) (the drugs just made everything extreme)

The reporter loses his nerve and kinda backs away, probably remembering all the stories about Andrew ‘psychopath’ Minyard

Matt, (more than just him being a Fox, he is also Neil’s best friend)

Matt is, as everyone knows, both a badass boxer and a golden retriever personified and Andrew is well, Andrew but I think they would make really good friends

For Matt it wouldn’t be as much of a protective thing but a hang out with him thing

It would probably start with protecting him more on court but I think the real switch would be when they start hanging out

Matt would be headed to the gym to spar and Andrew would pop up with his own gloves

(I love the idea of Andrew just randomly popping up places)

Andrew and Matt would start to spar together and he would help with certain things if needed.

They would become (kinda) friends and they would talk with each other during games

So now Allison

(Personally my favorite little story)

As someone who had lost people I know there are good days and bad days, similar to many mental illnesses

Most Foxes have lost people but in their cases it was not really death. (Andrew is included with this but whatever)

(Andrew lost Cass twice, once when he went to juvy and another time when drake died) (in a different way than how Allison lost Seth, yes but no less hurtful)

Anyway so on one of Allison’s bad days when she is like laying on the couch before practice or something Andrew helps

Not in the way you think, no threatening or excouragement as sometimes you just need time to grieve and Andrew never really gave himself that, he couldn’t

So he steals one of Renee’s sweatshirts and one that Allison still has from Seth and makes her cozy, probably a blanket too

He has her put on Seth’s and puts Renee’s on the pillow like a pillow case and then drapes a blanket on top of her

(You can’t tell me they don’t have pillows and blankets laying around. People always bring blankets and shit when we will be sitting around for awhile in school or meetings)

The whole time everyone is like “what is happening?” But eventually he is done and she is all comfy and he says something surprisingly sweet like “it’s ok to grieve just don’t let it consume you” or some shit because he is good with advice but is horrible with taking care of himself

So then they all go out for practice and Wymack is wondering where Allison is but he’s looking at the upperclassman thinking the monsters, especially Andrew, won’t be all that helpful and Andrew basically says “she’s fine. Leave her alone” and that’s that

(Wymack, Neil and Renee are silently smug)

Dan

Dan I think would be a mixture of support and protectiveness

Like he doesn’t need to protect her but it’s always good to have back up you know?

Like a reporter or another athlete brings up her past and he isn’t in the conversation but steps towards them at that

Dan starts being her badass self and is shocked that when she is done Andrew is kinda behind/next to her

He is offering silent support and threat

He is showing that he is on her side and that if you cross her you face his wrath

No one wants to cross a Fox but especially not the crazy midget goalie

[jackofmanytf2]

Granary Guerrillas

About five hours north of Teufort, my Red employers have a big grain operation.  Big silos, shipping containers, storage for shipping containers... It's a big place with a lot of tile floor, a lot of equipment that needs upkeep (and a lot of it is below Mr. Conagher's pay-grade, I don't mind admitting), and a surprising number of glass windows.  It's one of the places where, with the long commute and the work itself, I don't have time for my other jobs, so the Red people give me advance notice, a generous stipend for petrol, and hours double.  I would break about even, but one of my jobs in Teufort let me go after I told them I'd be out of town for over a week.  Apparently, I should have told them thirty days ago if I wanted my time unavailable to make the schedule.  I wished them luck in filling the position-- I don't know anybody willing (or able) to work those hours, at those wages, who are also able to reliably plan their lives thirty days in advance.

I'll be alright.  I'll pick up extra shifts at another job or just find another one.  There's always work out there...

Right next door to our grain facility is the rival Blue grain facility; equally big.  I try not to have any opinions on this situation between the two companies.  At the very least, they pay well and the mercs don't have to walk very far to kill each other.  Of course, that means that even despite the size of both facilities, I'm usually only one or two rooms away from some part of the fight-- that is, if I'm not trapped in the thick of things.  I'd considered switching my schedule to work overnight instead, since 'last round' ends around sunset, but for "security reasons" neither my car nor Sniper's camper can be within five miles of the building, so both he and I are bunked in with everyone else.  There's no sleeping with that kind of noise going on, wondering if at any moment the door is going to explode in on you in a hail of gunfire, rocket shells, actual fire, and grenade pipes.  So I more or less sleep when the mercs sleep.  Of course, the barracks were only fitted for nine, so I've made myself cozy in a small storeroom with my cleaning supplies and my blanket from my car.  Nobody's said anything about it, so I guess it's not a problem, but then again, I don't think they really noticed.

All that to say that there's no real avoiding the fighting around here while I'm working, except in the hours after sunset, before I collapse on the floor in the storeroom, and the hours just before sunrise.

So what's going on now?  I decided to take advantage of a lull in the action to mop the mess in the middle of the shipping container storage bay but the “lull” was lasting a bit long and the quiet was… beginning to be concerning.  Even despite listening, the hum of the huge fans for the climate control in this area muffled the sound of footsteps until they were right on top of me.  By the time I looked up, I was already surrounded.

“... Hi.  You uh… might want to watch your step.  Floor’s still wet…” I say lamely, trying to keep from smiling nervously.  I’m surrounded by the Blue mercenaries, which means that all the Red mercenaries are probably dead and going through respawn.  Which meant I was alone with the enemy and literally the only living thing left to oppose their total control of this facility they were storming.

I’d already died a lot these past couple days.  A lot.  Some of it wasn’t as quick and painless as I’d like, but I’m not about to offer any critiques.  Killing was their profession, not mine, so I don’t exactly have an expert perspective on the topic�� Besides, I doubt they’d care for my opinions.

“Oh, I've been waitin’ for this, ya piker…” Here comes the blue-shirted Sniper, closing the distance, big knife in hand, with long strides like he hasn’t learned his lesson from last time.  Still, the mop in my hands has never felt less like something I could defend myself with.  But it turns out I don’t have to, as the Blue Heavy spares a hand from his huge gun to grab his teammate’s shoulder.

“Sniper does not beat defenseless little girls in front of Heavy.”

“Yo, that’s a girl?!” The Scout exclaims, pointing with his bat and looking at me like he’s seeing me for the first time.

“‘S not a bloody woman,” There’s an odd note of distaste in the Sniper’s voice to accompany his sneer, “...Even if it was…” He shrugs out from under his ally’s hand, but does not move closer to me.  Yet.  I can’t see his eyes behind his glasses, but I can feel the glare…

The Blue Soldier bellows out with authority, “CORRECTION!  This cupcake is a cupcake!”

“Conagher wouldn’t hire a woman for this sort of work.  Not for the war…” The Blue Engineer says quietly.

“Exactly!” Snaps the Australian, shifting his weight to step forward again.  He’s interrupted by the swing of his ‘mate’s’ bat.

“Hey, f’real are you a girl?!”

“Bonny ‘nough face…” The Demoman mumbles, “could be a wee lass…”

The Blue Medic and Pyro remain quiet, the former watching me with furrowed brows.  I can’t speak for the latter, but the mask is turned my direction.

This sort of reaction only surprises me because it’s stalling any violence to my person.  I’m used to the confusion and questions.  I have what some might consider a ‘pretty face’ with ‘delicate’ or ‘girlish’ features.  My small stature and slim build don’t do me any favors, either.  Nature has not been kind.  In a man’s world, I’ve learned it isn’t usually to my benefit to look like a girl.  It’s harder to get paying work that isn’t sex work or paperwork.  Nobody wants to pay a woman to work with her hands.  Not for skilled work.  If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t care what people thought I looked like…

“I’m working,” I answer firmly, “So I’d appreciate it if we wrapped whatever this is up quickly…”

“No, I wanna know!” The Scout’s bat points at my face, his expression fierce to cover up his uncertainty.  I don’t know whether that uncertainty is because my being a woman would be an insult because of how I got the briefcase away from him that one time (he’s killed me half a dozen times since, I would have thought he’d be over it by now) or if my being a woman would make me an acceptable target for other kinds of attention, “You a girl?  Yes or no.”

“This is not the information we are here to obtain,” Says the suited figure appearing out of thin air at my side, and I shudder at the idea of how close the Blue Spy was to me without my even knowing.  He eyes his teammates and then turns and looks down at me.

“Le petit nettoyeur, you say you are working.  We are also working.  You know the nature of our work.  Tell us: what is the exact nature of yours?”

“... Bloody maid…” The Sniper growls.

“Cupcake!” The Soldier corrects sharply.

“Building maintenance,” Is my reply, shooting the Sniper a look, “general upkeep– plumbing, lights, heating and cooling… and yes, cleaning.  But it’s not like I do their laundry and cooking or baking– I’m not a damn maid!”

“These were the duties you were hired for?” The Spy’s eyes are on mine, and I don’t like it.  I feel like he can see right through me.  See what I’m thinking.

“Yes.”

“And despite your presence on the battlefields and your… interference… with our collection of RED intelligence, you were not hired as a tenth combatant?”

I wince, “... Look, it’s not like he would have handed over the briefcase if I had asked him to–”

“--Damn right!”

The Spy frowns slightly, “Certainly not.  Answer my question: were you hired as a tenth combatant?”

“If I were hired as a combatant, wouldn’t I have something besides cleaning supplies or a toolbox?” Something hard and cold enters the Spy’s gaze and the other mercenaries shift  on their feet impatiently, so I give up being smart and say, “No.  No, of course I’m not a tenth combatant.  I’ve been saying it all along!”

Spy nods, and his frown fades into something that might have been the shadow of a smile before pursing his lips, “So… you clean and maintain RED facilities…”

“... Yes…?”

“... All of them?  All the rooms?”

“... Most of them…”

“I see…” He closes his eyes and sighs out his nose, and when his arms unfold from behind his back, his gloved right hand is smoothly rolling open a balisong knife, “... They call you ‘Jacques’, do they not?” “...uh…” I almost step back, but the blue suited Pyro is there, and I can smell the gas and hear the clicking from his weapon, and I really don’t want to bump into it.

The Spy goes on, calm and reasonable-sounding, “... Jacques, I owe you a kindness from our last encounter, and as I am a man who honors his debts, I will not allow my teammates to exact their bizarre and pathetic vengeance for your insult to them at this time–”

“--Piss off!  I don’t need you to allow me–” But the rest of whatever the Sniper meant to sputter was cut off by his teammate raising a single gloved finger.  He growled and glared, baring his teeth at me instead, white-knuckling his fist around the hilt of his big knife.

“... But I have a responsibility, Jacques, and as a professional with responsibilities, I am sure you understand.  So.  Please,” Continued the Spy moving the balisong knife in his hand just so, so that it– and he– had my full attention again, “tell me the passcode to the door over my left shoulder just now.”

I glance at the door in question.  I know the passcode.  I wipe down the equipment in there and make sure it’s still running, but I don’t know anything about it.  I don’t know what it does or how important it is.  Whatever the reason, that door stays locked behind a passcode, so I probably shouldn’t tell this Spy that works for my employer’s rival!

“... Jacques,” He presses, meeting my eyes, his a cloudy blue, “I must insist that you tell me quickly.  If you do not, I will have to extract the answer, and I do not want to do that.”

Part of me almost believes him.  He owes me a kindness, like he said, but he’s not going to let that stop him from taking advantage of the fact that I have information that can make his job that much easier.  He can make me tell him, I realize with a sinking feeling of dread.  He probably knows just how to hurt me to learn every secret I know– even mine.

For a single moment, my stomach twists and drops to my toes with terror.  In the same moment, I see the ridiculousness of it all– of this war, this rivalry.  The idiocy.  I know all the passcodes.  I can get into any secret room I want to!  Me.  Jack.  The nobody who doesn’t know anything about the importance of this fight.  The nobody not even in the fight.  But at the same time, I’ve got no way to protect this information.  No weapons, no special training.  No suicide pills.

This merc, a specialist, was going to hurt me and hurt me and hurt me until I gave him all the information he wanted that a person like me should never have been given in the first place.

But then that moment passes, and the Blue Spy’s head explodes into a fine red mist of blood, bone, and brains.  A moment after that, red-marked pipe grenades and rockets were raining down on us.

Stumbling out of respawn, I ask myself a question: How long had the red-shirted mercs been waiting to launch their attack?  How long had they watched me with the blues?

Had they known?  Had they also known I would have broken?

Or was it all just a big coincidence?

[stormjay0]

Xisuma and Xelqua

I was thinking about how Grian used to be an admin (Wynncraft) and we’ve ended up here so... ficlet time!

As nights went on Hermitcraft, this was one of the quieter ones. Many of the hermits had gone to bed (Bdubs having been asleep for hours), with only a few still awake tinkering at some redstone project or growing vines for a build. The lights in the shopping district had gone dark, one by one, as shops closed up for the night amidst the smell of newly laid grass. The diamonds hanging from the trees caught the light of a star here and there, but most of the movement in the cowmercial district had long since died down.

A flickering window blinked in the distance. Any passerby who found it worth taking another look would see that the flicker came from a cozy flame dancing in the glass confines of a lantern, resting on a desk. The window in question was a small opening looking out into the thick jungle, just large enough for someone to rest on the sill and watch the parrots. It was also over 100 blocks off the ground.

The flame began to die out, flickering slowly and sadly downwards, only to spring up again as if given a shot of espresso. Or a shot of coal, in this case, because the admin who refueled it wouldn’t be caught dead with coffee. A strong black tea was another thing altogether.

Xisuma sighed and leaned back in his chair. Rubbing his eyes, he checked the time for the first time in a few hours. One in the morning wasn’t bad, he reasoned, and turned back to his work. Earlier today, he had relocated some administrative panels to this room in his jungle base, the least concrete-y of them. He silently thanked his past self; working on admin duties was at least 50% less fun on the concrete floor. His helmet lay switched off on the cozier, carpeted floor of the preferred room. 

The panels themselves were resting between a desk and the wall behind it, propped up by their sturdy bedrock stands. Xisuma didn’t often think about that rare material that his panels were made of; many high-level admins required hardware (literally hard-ware) of that caliber, and though bedrock was almost impossible to obtain, it was well worth it for the administrative abilities of the panels.

Tonight was not a night for appreciating the panels, however; in fact, X was beginning to question if his work tonight was worth it in the first place. He was trying a particularly frustrating string of commands, as he was only halfway sure of how to accomplish the work he was trying to do. 

Xisuma briefly stretched his neck and back, cracked his knuckles, and tried another combination. The usual [ERROR: Action not recognized] message appeared in urgent red over his screens, and he let out a short breath and considered hitting the panels in a last-ditch effort.

He didn’t have the chance to hit the panels, though, because another object hit a different panel very nearby- a Grian-shaped figure slammed into the window beside him at top speed.

X, not even surprised, slid open the glass and looked down. There was a thin ledge about five blocks below, and as Xisuma had expected, a heap of elytra wings and red sweater was sprawled atop it. He chuckled, shaking his head incredulously, and grabbed a water bucket so Grian could swim up the stream.

“Do I even want to ask what you’re doing up?”

Xisuma passed Grian a cup of chamomile tea, which the red-sweatered man immediately dumped 6 sugar packets into, cancelling out the calming chamomile effect. 

“Well, you see, I was simply minding my own business over at Grumbot when I saw a light on over here- knew it was you immediately, definitely didn’t think there was a giant firefly hiding in the jungle.” Grian took a gulp of his tea. “Anyways, you’re up, and I’m up, so I may as well talk to you, Eck-sai-zooma.”

X rolled his eyes playfully at the mispronunciation. “Alright, but why were you at the Grumbot? That thing’s broken, ain’t it?”

“He was lonely!” Grian protested. “I wanted to visit my robot son.”

Xisuma raised an eyebrow.

“Aaaand I might’ve left a shulker box full of wool there.” Grian shrugged. “But it was a whole box!” 

He looked around the room that he had crash-landed into and noticed the administrative panels. “You’re not working, are you, X? At this hour?” 

Xisuma turned to look at the panels, still glowing red with error text. He sighed, and moved to switch them off. “I was working on a personal project, but you’re here, and I really need to take a break anyway.” 

His finger was on the off switch when Grian spoke up. “Hey, I know how to fix this. It’s a perception chain, right? You just gotta-” He typed in a string of commands deftly with his head tilted sideways. “There! Got it!” 

Xisuma stared at the message that had just popped up on the screen, glowing green. [Action approved. Enter commands to continue chain.] He turned back to look at Grian, who was now trying to hang his elytra upside-down from the ceiling. 

“How’d you do that?”

Without turning around, Grian replied, “Oh, it was pretty easy! Just entered some combos that you hadn’t tried. The keywords on these change wayyy too often.”

Xisuma stared at Grian, looked back at the panels, and looked back at Grian. After a moment, he collected his thoughts enough to ask again.

“No, how did you know what to do? I’ve been an admin for years and even I couldn’t figure it out.” X was surprised that his question came out so calmly, when his brain was currently a mess of ‘HOW DID HE DO THAT’ and ‘WHAT THE HECK’. 

“Oh!” Grian turned around, smiling sheepishly. “I don’t think I ever told you- I’m sure it was on my list, right after fixing that chest monster- I used to be an admin!”

He dropped to the floor, legs crossed, and took another swig of tea. “I used to moderate a server called Wynncraft. We had all kinds of people, but not like Hermitcraft- they came and went, played and left. Some came back, some didn’t, but everyone had a great time!” 

He wrinkled his nose. “Or, they better have at least, I spent a long time on those maps.”

“Anyways, we had a ton of quests, and loot, and all that stuff! It was a pretty cool place. You learn a lot about being an admin when you have to mod ghosts.” Grian grinned. “Hah! Those were pretty terrifying.” 

Xisuma was even more dumbstruck, but didn’t show it. Ghosts? No wonder Grian had known how to fix his problem- he was somehow experienced in some of the most complicated areas of administrating?

Grian leaned over to look at a different panel as Xisuma’s mouth moved silently, trying to think of something to say. The smaller man lightly tapped a thread of commands and looked up at X. 

“What’re you trying to do with these? This looks like a ban bypass. Did you accidentally ban someone?” His eyes grew wide. “If you did we need to fix it right now! Which hermit was it?”

Xisuma collected himself and sat down by Grian. “No, it’s- it wasn’t unintentional.” He stared at the wall. “I banned him on purpose.”

Grian was halfway to asking X who it was when he saw the look on his face. Xisuma looked stoic and almost sad, gazing off into the distance. Grian turned back to the panels, and read the commands on them thoroughly. The former admin recognized most of the threads, but some of them, covered in error messages, weren’t commands he knew that worked. After a minute, he realized what Xisuma was trying to do. The actions entered seemed to be working towards an uncoded goal- the objective being to see someone in another dimension. Specifically, the void under the end islands. X wanted to see someone who had been banned and sent into the void.

Grian may not have known why, but he did know how to help. He began typing in another string of commands, the sound of which brought X back to reality. He leaned over Grian’s shoulder as Grian continued to type, talking as he went. 

“The problem you had needed a bit of a workaround. I think the issue was in the way you went about it. See, to see the person, you can’t just open a window into where they are, you need to bring them here. Or at least a part of them, or- here, I’ll just show you.” He stopped typing and turned to Xisuma as the screen flashed the message [Enter administrative ID to give permissions.] “You’ve gotta enter me into your system so it lets me do this. Username should be Xelqua.” 

X, distracted, looked at Grian after a minute. “Xelqua?”

“Old username. It’s what they called me when I got my administrative license.” 

“Ah.” X reached for the panels. /permit user [Xelqua] }access_all

Grian finished up the last of the commands and held his finger over the enter key. “Ready to see whoever this is?”

Xisuma took a deep breath and didn’t respond. 

Grian took that as a yes, and clicked the final button, looking anticipatorily at the spot where he had entered the coordinates for arrival. 

Nothing happened for a moment. Then, the lantern dimmed of its own accord, and a fuzzy shape that looked a lot like Xisuma began to materialise in the center of the room. As the image became clearer, the person it showed did so too. Their face was just as shocked as Grian’s. 

Xisuma’s face, however, was misty. He looked quietly at the projection now standing in his base.

“Hi, Ex.” 

[danielleslegacy]

Committed to Memory || Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: yes / no

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Summary: Its the morning after Spencer stays the night, and your emotions are running high. Also its got sleepy spencer so what else could you want in a fic?

Word Count: 1,880

Warnings: it is just fluff that is all, its tooth-rotting, you've been warned. 

Pairing: Reader insert x Spencer Reid 

All writing is my own, so please don’t steal this. Also, I would appreciate any feedback/comments/requests! xx

*GIF IS NOT MINE SO CREDIT GOES TO THE OWNER*

I feel the hot frustrated tears gather in my eyes, my hands reaching up in an attempt to soothe the throbbing headache in my temples, before raking my hands down my face. The laptop screen, that should hold my assessment,  in front of me practically mocking my incompetence. A guttural noise forces its way out of my mouth as my frustration builds. I press my hands to my closed eyes in an attempt to relax for a moment.

I take a deep breath in holding it and exhale after a couple of seconds, trying to ground myself from my panic. I throw a glance over my shoulder, looking at the sleeping form laid in my bed. My panic begins to decrease, by merely knowing that he was there. I watch Spencer for a few moments, the soft light of my laptop casting the faintest of lights across his features, his chest rising and falling slowly. I knew that soon his alarm would go off and he would not be as peaceful as he was in that moment, curled under the blankets, cuddling the pillow beneath his head, and arm splayed out searching for my warmth. I turn back around to my work as a rush of inspiration overcomes me. My fingers tapping across the keys. I flick my eyes up to check the time, after what I assume is a few moments that turn out to be more than that, and see that Spencer’s alarm is due to go off at any moment.

I shut the lid of my laptop down and decide to crawl back into the bed so that he doesn’t wake up alone. I pull the covers up over my waist and rake my fingers down his cheek slowly. Tracing down his jaw and up into his hair. His brow furrows in his sleep, telling me that his body is slowly waking up. I close my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to be completely present at the moment, as my fingers toy through his hair, detangling any knots that had formed from the man’s tossing and turning. Spencer’s other arm flips over and comes to rest on my waist as he pulls me to his chest tightly, and a soft giggle falls out of my lips.

“Alarm hasn’t gone off you can’t make me get up,” He mumbles out, his voice thick with sleep. I hum in agreement, tangling my legs with his, looping my arms around his neck.

In an almost comical way, his alarm pierces throughout cozy bubble and forces a groan out of Spencer’s lips. The alarm is switched off almost as quickly as it was turned on and Spence turns back to me pressing his lips to my cheek and before leaning back to look at my face. He blinks his eyes open slowly, adjusting to the light that’s snuck in since I got back into the bed.

“Morning pretty eyes,” I whisper letting out the softest of laughs. Picking up a hand and placing it onto the side of his face.

“How did you sleep?” He says voice thick with sleep. Butterflies erupt in my stomach, his voice melts me every time.

“Bold of you to assume I slept,” I laugh gesturing over to my desk, laptop sat on top of it. I look back to the boy knowing the look of disapproval I was about to get.

“Y/N,” Spencer says, unwrapping from me, stretching his muscles out and then picking himself up and out of the bed, “You really should be sleeping.”

I reach my hands out towards him, and he pulls me up and out of the bed, “I will sleep once this assessment is over, I promise it’s almost done.” He rolls his eyes and presses his lips to mine quickly before slipping out of the bedroom. “Can you put the kettle on? I need coffee.”

I hear the water run as I finish my sentence, and a smile breaks across my face, knowing that he was already doing it before I asked and that he was so comfortable in my apartment. I pull on one of Spencer’s hoodies, it falls just above my knees and I lose my hands in the sleeves. I inhale his scent and make my way into the kitchen and stand just behind him.

“Boo!” I shout wrapping my arms around his waist. His slight jump causes us both to lets out a laugh.

“I knew you were there too,” He says, turning in my arms so that we are face to face, “Hi.”

“Hi,” I say back, stepping onto my tiptoes to press my lips to his once more. His eyes rake down to his hoodie and he cocks his head to the side. “Isn’t that mine?”

I quickly pull away from him running around to the opposite end of the kitchen, “Nope. It’s mine now.”

A wide smile rests against his face, his eyes raking down to my exposed legs, his tongue darting out across his lips showing his concentration on my body. Every time I stand in front of the man it is almost as if he’s trying to commit me to memory, all of his attention is on my and about me.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I say softly, a blush rising to my cheeks.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to memorise me, I know you have an eidetic memory.”

“Can’t help it,” He says sheepishly, obviously embarrassed that he was caught, “I just cannot get enough of you.”

Butterflies swarm in my stomach and I’m just overcome with adoration for the man in front of me. Our eyes meet after a moment and we just stand to look at each other, but we are both startled as the kettle hisses, indicating that the water is finished boiling. Spencer turns away from me and begins making both of our coffees and I jump up so that I’m sitting on the counter. He turns slowly to face me handing me one of the two coffees and stand in between my legs. And at that moment I knew that it was love. We hadn’t said those words to each other but this is what it feels like. Like I can’t be close enough to him like I can’t breathe without him around and like there is no one else in the whole world that I want to be with. He is my forever person. If he was the only person I could see for the rest of my life, I would be content with that.

“Do you want to watch the news before I have to leave for work?” He says pulling me out of my thoughts, running his free hand up and down my leg to catch my attention, as he probably noticed I had drifted away.

“I love you, Spence,” I say a smile gracing my features, “And it is totally okay if you don’t want to say it back to me, I just want you to know it.”

My eyes rake over his face, trying to gauge his reaction, but I’m no profiler, so I see nothing change on his face as he processes the information I had just shared with him. But surprisingly, waiting for him to say something doesn’t leave me nervous, because even if he can’t say it, I know that he feels it. I understand the complicated situation that his job puts him in, the fear and anxiety that love can do to him. But I also know that the man before me needs to hear it as much as anyone can say it. He steps back from me slightly, and he pulls a face as if he is trying to figure something out.

“Spence? You okay?” I ask softly trying to bring him back to reality, reaching my arm out to meet his shoulder.

His eyes spring up to meet mine, “We met 204 days ago, in the back of a coffee shop, you had ordered an iced latte, and you were reading The Hunger Games. Your hair was half up and you were wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans. You were wearing this necklace that had a moon on it. When I sat across from you and you looked at me your eyes pulled all the words out of my throat and I stuttered out the faintest of hello’s.” A smile forms on my face and tears gather in my eyes. “I wanted so badly to ask you out, so I just did it. Without even knowing you, you gave me confidence. Then you smiled and I swear I could have died. I may not have known it then but that day was the beginning of something so incredible that I would carry it with me forever. It was 181 days ago that you agreed to be my girlfriend.13 days ago you were sitting on my bed, waiting for me to get home from a case and you had cleaned my apartment for me. It was that day that I knew I loved you. You could have run me over with a car that day and I would still have been in that state of total euphoria. You are everything for me, Y/n. You make me be a better more confident version of the man I was before. Every part of you is committed to my memory, and even if I didn't have the brain that I do, I'm positive everything you would still have it memorised. I am so completely and utterly in love with you.”

I reach my hands forward as quickly as I can, grabbing his face to pull it to mine, out lips meet somewhere in the middle and tears cascade from my eyes. I feel one of his hands reach up and grasp my chin, tilting my face softly, the other resting itself on my hip. My hips raise attempting to get as close to him as possible.

A sudden chime rings out through the apartment, causing us to jump apart. Spencer pulls his phone out of his pocket, mumbling something along the lines of ‘someone better be dying’ before saying, “Doctor Spencer Reid speaking.”

A slight giggle falls from my lips, as Spencer takes his phone call. I jump off the counter, pick up my coffee and sit on the sofa waiting for the man to either join me or tell me that he has to leave for work. I flick on the Tv allowing the news to play as background noise while I drink my coffee.

“Okay, Garcia thank you,” Spencer says walking into the room and he sits down next to you, laying down so that his head is in my lap, one of my hands immediately comes to play with his hair. He lets out a relaxed and content sigh.

“When do you leave?” I whisper, not really wanting to know the answer.

His hand slowly reaches up and takes mine in his, before pressing it to his mouth softly. “Not today.” My heart rate picks up and a smile stretches across my face. “You want to come with me to see the team today?” A smile crosses my face, and I practically run to get ready.

[flying-nightwing]

Damn Him

Hi, this is average af but I needed to post something. You’ll probably be disappointed lmao. Anyway, enjoy some Dick Grayson content!

More on my masterlist, pinned as a top post!

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

Word count: 4798

Warnings: None

Summary: Dick Grayson never seems to say the right thing around you, and it’s not quite for the reason you initially thought

You looked up from your book when your cellphone vibrated on your desk beside you. You were in the midst of studying for your last exam of the semester, so you had your phone on a strict do not disturb schedule, which meant it remained on 24/7. Your notifications were blocked for any social media, text or calls you might receive, well, except for your one emergency contact: Bruce Wayne. He knew he was supposed to contact you only if he had no other choice but ask for your help, and never had he even used that card ever since you knew him. Reluctantly, you put down you book and marker to switch them for your phone. Turning on the screen, you ignored the various hidden notifications, focusing only on the single line that stared back at you.

Call me when you can - B.

Sighing, you unlocked your phone and pressed the contact name, then the phone icon next to it. It rang twice before Bruce picked up.

"(Y/N), how are you?"

"A bit stressed out, but it could be worse" You replied truthfully. "What's up?"

"I hope you know I wouldn't do this if I had any other solution" He began. "But I need your help on a recon mission, almost all my effective got busted last night"

"Oh my, are they okay?" You frowned with concern, even if he couldn't see you.

"Yes, don't worry" He said, "I'll explain in person, that is if you agree to come. I'd understand if you refused, though"

You rubbed the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes for a second. You owed a lot to Bruce, and since it was a simple recon stakeout, you could take one or two nights off to help him out. You were already ahead of schedule in your studying and confident in your knowledge of the material.

"Yeah, sure, I'll be there" You finally answered. "What time do you want me over?"

"As soon as you can"

"Aight, see ya"

You hung up the phone and put it back on your desk, observing it for a second. It had been gifted to you by Bruce after you began going on missions more regularly with the batlings, he said that way he knew for sure all communications would be secure and sheltered from hacking or government surveillance. You had to admit, having an encrypted phone was pretty neat, as it ran entirely on Wayne Enterprises servers and networks. The simple thought of not having to suffer through youtube ads was satisfactory enough on its own to justify the need for it, even if you didn't join missions as much as you used to.

You finally stood up and went to change from your yoga pants and loose tank top to black jeans and a sweater, then jumped in your car and drove to the manor. You punched in your code at the gate and took the right to the garages, where you entered a second code to open the doors. Your car was several notches under those parked there, but you had to have something less flashy as not to attract too much attention. Still, it was more than a majority of college students even had. You had to thank Bruce for that too. He wasn't your adopted father per say, since he found you a few days before your eighteenth birthday, but he still acted like a guardian and mentor for you.

You jogged down to the batcave, where you instantly spotted a chatty blonde sprawled in a seat, making wild gesture. She sprung up straight at the sound of you coming in and her face split in a wide grin. She jumped on her feet and skipped toward you.

"Hey giiiiirl" She drawled out excitedly. "Long time no see!"

"Hey Steph" You chuckled, going for the hug. "Sorry I didn't call, I have no excuses"

"Don't worry about it" She waved off with an airy laugh. She knew how busy school kept you, and how you kind of wanted to separate yourself fromthe vigilante life. "I'm just glad you're here"

"So am I" Bruce called from the computers. He gave you a subtle smile, and you nodded back to him. "It seems like we're in a bit of an impasse here"

You didn't miss the quick glare he sent to Tim and Steph, who sheepishly avoided looking back at him. It didn't seem too serious though, or the air would have drastically changed.

"Before he says anything, know it wasn't our fault" Steph hurried to say.

"We were totally ambushed by Vicky Vale" Tim nodded along."No idea what she did there, but she was, and she saw right through our disguises.We had to bolt before she exposed us"

You frowned in confusion. "Okay can someone tell me what is going on here?"

"Tim and Steph were supposed to go undercover and cozy up with the high leaders of what I have suspicions on good authority are transiting premium grade opium into the US and Europe, and are close partners to Count Vertigo" Bruce began, already exhausted. "But as they said, Vicky Vale was somehow invited to the banquet and singled them out immediately before they could get even near the big guys"

"My magnificent blond mane attracts way too much attention, I'm afraid" Steph sighed sadly, making you chuckle. "It's a curse, babes. I tell ya"

"Keep telling yourself that, Stephi" A new voice came from the top of the stairs. You both wanted suddenly to go back to your books as a big part of why you barely tag along on missions anymore skipped down the stairs. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. "We all know covert missions are not your strong point"

"I'm gonna kill you in your sleep, Grayson" She smiled sweetly at him.

"No, because you suck at being subtle" He returned the grin, just as sweetly if not more. He ruffled her hair as he passed by. "What's up Timbo"

He hummed something unintelligible, flipping his brother off. Dick laughed, then almost added something when he finally noticed you. His laughter died down and his eyes widened, and suddenly he looked uncomfortable. "Oh, you're here"

"So it seems" You replied as flatly as he spoke. It wasn't new, you had never known how to act around each other. Did you hate him? Of course not, you had absolutely no reason to. Did you consider him your friend? Hard to say. All you knew was that any and every encounter you had with Dick Grayson was awkward. You got along with Tim just fine, and even Jason when he was still around. You loved Cass and Duke, and you even managed to get on Dami's good side, or most of the time anyway. But Dick remained a mystery to you, one that had eluded you for years now. You didn't understand a single thing about that boy, and you doubted you ever would. You've had conversations before, loads of them, and you had no doubt he would make an amazing friend, but you couldn't seem to get past the stage of acquaintances.

Which was frankly disappointing, because you had been instantly attracted by his charms and easygoing nature when you first met. You had been drawn to him, and you couldn't try and pretend you hadn't pinned after him for the longest time. But you hit a wall when his behaviour began changing wildly around you, right around the time you slipped flirts every now and then to let him know that you were into him. Right now, you were just really over his poor attempts at pretending he never noticed it happen.

"So" Bruce spoke up, breaking the tension that had suddenly arisen in the cave. "Tomorrow night we'll have a new opening to try and get to them, hopefully without interruption this time. I've taken a look at the list, and no reporter was on it. We should be good"

"But Tim and Steph already got busted" You pointed out. "They'll know something is up if they show up again"

"That's why they will be seen at the Gotham Charity Auction at the museum" He explained, meeting your eyes. "That's why I called you up. You'll be going undercover with Dick as husband and wife"

"What?" Dick coughed almost immediately. "We're not–" He laughed nervously. "Us? As a married couple? This is ridiculous"

Your head turned sharply toward him, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Wow, thanks a lot for the vote of confidence" You snapped. "I didn't know being my fake husband was such a terrible perspective"

"No– Wait– That's not–" He stuttered, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean it that way"

"Sure" You rolled your eyes, before turning to Bruce again. He had an unreadable expression on his face, more unreadable than usually anyway. Tim and Steph stood there in stunned silence, not daring to speak up. "What's the briefing?"

Bruce glanced in between you and Dick, before looking back at you again. "Félix Lachance and Stella Gustavsson, they're the one you need to befriend. Since you're not known to the public, it'll be easier for Dick to pass under the radar and not cause an incident like last time"

"We get it, B" Tim muttered under his breath as Bruce passed you the files with the pictures.

"I need you to retrieve any information you can" He continued, ignoring Tim's comment. "Names of business partners, location of transactions, dates, anything, you know the gig. Your occupation and alias if you want one will be at your discretion, I trust you can deal with that. As always you need to be extremely careful as not to alert them, because this is our last chance to get the critical Intel we need to take this down. So I'll need you at your A game, both of you"

This was a warning and you knew it. He let you know more or less subtly to put aside whatever was happening between you and behave like adults. You straightened your back and took a deep breath, getting your head in the right mindset.

"Alright, I'll be ready for tomorrow night" You nodded as you gathered the files. "Can I stay over tonight? There is no point in trying to study now"

"You don't need to ask, (Y/N), you're always welcome here" Bruce said, a hint of fondness in his voice. He always liked having you around, he said your presence tamed the boys. You nodded and made your way upstairs, finding the room you claimed as your own for about a year, and the same you always came back to when you stayed the night.

You went to the drawers, fishing out old training clothes you had left behind. You weren't sure all those were yours, they were probably mixed with pieces you stole from Steph and Cass. In return, they probably did also steal from your drawer occasionally, balancing it all out. You were about to change into something comfy for bed when a soft knock at your door caught your attention. You walked to it and tentatively opening the door, your expression flattening when you saw how it was.

"Yes?"

"Hey um" Dick scratched the back of his neck. "I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it came out that way. I just meant that it would be, you know, weird"

You stared at him blankly. "You're not helping your case here, Dick"

"Shit, that's not what I mean either!" He hurried to say, realizing his mistake. But you were already closing the door. "Please (Y/N)–"

"Get some rest Dick" You said as you pushed the door closed. You sighed and shook your head before adding in a whisper, "God knows we'll need it"

------

You had done covert missions before, but this was the first time you were operating in such conditions. You finished retouching your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering whether or not it was more expensive than your total life income. The floor length champagne coloured dress was stunning, tailored to your form and just sparkly enough to let you shine through the design. You suspected the shoes were made especially to fit with the dress, as they resembled its lace and belt colour. You were sporting on top of that a heavy diamond necklace with matching earrings, proving the general high cost of the outfit. Your comm was carefully tucked in your ear, functional and well hidden.

"Oh my my" Steph whistled lowly. "If I wasn't dating Timbers I would date you"

You laughed. "This is the outfit talking. You haven't seen me tired and puffy in sweatpants just yet"

"Grump, just take the damn compliment" She playfully poked your exposed shoulder.

"Alright alright, thanks" You rolled your eyes. "Since it's gonna be the only one coming from this household anyway"

Steph wiggled her eyebrows. "Wouldn't be so sure about that" She said in a sing-song voice. "Your fake boyfriend may have some thoughts too"

"Ha" You snorted, walking out of your room with her following at your side. "It's good, that you're wishful thinking. The boy can't seem to talk to me without insulting me lately"

"Trust me, he won't be able to resist to this bombshell" She gestured at your form. "Dick's a people pleaser, and looking like a whole five course meal like that, you sure are easy to please if you want my opinion"

You shook your head, a small grin on your face. Steph had always been your favourite for a reason. She knew how you felt about Dick, but she never meddled. Well, not more than she typically would anyway, and not enough to cross your boundaries. And even then, she had no explanation either for his behaviour. You finally reached the foyer, where Bruce was dressed casually, sleeves rolled up and without a tie, talking to an all dressed up Dick, his hair now dark red and with almost black contact lenses. Your heels clicking on the stairs was what snapped their attention to you; Bruce nodding at his choice of dress for you, and Dick, his mouth slightly agape. You felt Steph gently but excitedly elbowing your ribs.

"Ah, (Y/N), there you are" Bruce said. "I'm glad to see the dress fits well"

"Yeah" Dick tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "You look okay"

You blinked in disbelief as you heard Steph's facepalm behind you. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose, while Bruce shook his head slightly at his son.

"Yikes" Tim made his presence known. You shared this one word mood immensely right about now. "Way to go D"

Dick cleared his throat, trying to push back the embarrassment blush creeping up his cheeks. "Uh, shall we go?"

"That would be preferable, yes" Bruce replied, making Steph choke and cover he laughter with a cough. The way he said it was clearly meant to be a jab to his son's tactless attitude. "Be careful"

"Of course" You smiled tightly and all but dragged Dick outside. You'd take one of Bruce's luxury car to get there, and it was already waiting in the driveway. Dick pressed the door button and slowly, they lifted up to let you in. You slid in the passenger seat without waiting for Dick's help and you kept your eyes on the windshield in from of you as he began to drive. The ride was silent until he decided to speak again, tentatively.

"It's nice to see you all dressed up, for once" He said, still clearly not thinking of his choice of words more carefully. "It's different. A good different!"

For once? Was he serious?

You audibly sighed. "I'm begging you to just stop talking"

"What?" He objected, confused. "What did I say wrong this time– Oh"

"Yeah" You replied, your tone clipped and dry.

"I'm an idiot" He mumbled under his breath. That you could agree on, but you didn't voice it out loud.

He couldn't pull into the driveway fast enough. You slipped on your fake engagement ring as Dick stopped in front of the awaiting valet, doing himself the same thing. You both had a recording device slipped in your clothes, and the ring allowed you to turn it on and off at will, as well as the comm in your ear. You turned both off for the awaiting scan at the entrance, as not to emit detectable frequencies.

"Ready?" He asked, and you gave him a firm nod. He got out first and rounded the car, opening your door for you as he would be expected to by this particular crowd. You took his offered hand to climb out and linked your arm to his as he gave the keys to the valet in exchange for a ticket. He left a tip before you walked inside, registering to the guest list. You passed the security checkpoint without a hassle and found yourself in the hall where the auction was held. You turned on your comm and recording device again.

"Recon first, then regroup?" You suggested in a mutter as you were both visually scanning the room.

"Yep" He replied shortly. "B, copy?"

"Crystal clear" 

"Good. Let's go"

While Dick headed to the bar, you opted for the art collection on display, pretending to scout for potential pieces to bid on. But your eyes weren't on the expensive paintings and statues, but moved around the room to spot some VIP lounge or area where the big shots might hang out at. There was a room where attendees came and went, but you shrugged it off as there wasn't enough security for the profile you were searching for. You paused your recon for small talk here and there, and you were in the middle of a casual chat about painted landscapes with an older gentleman when Dick rejoined your side, handing you a drink.

"There you are honey" He smiled sweetly, his unusually dark brown eyes reflecting the light from the chandelier.

"Joey, my love, allow me to introduce you to Sir Fernand Bretworth of Essex" His alias flew out of your mouth naturally, then you took a small sip of your drink. Non alcoholic, nice thinking. "We were discussing impressionism and its influence on modern art"

You wanted to smirk at the clueless look Dick gave you. He was a prodigy in a lot of things, but art wasn't one. It was more Damian's thing, or Tim's if he tried hard enough, but definitely not Dick's. Take that now. 

"Ah, yes..." He replied slowly. "Fascinating indeed"

"Alright" You let out a small, cover up laugh as your hand rested on his bicep. "My husband has little interest in art, my apologies"

"No offence taken" He chuckled. "I'll leave you two, my wife must be looking for me. An old fool like me gets easily distracted!"

You laughed along with him until he was out of earshot. Then you dropped your hand and turned to him. "Noticed anything?"

"Yeah, there is a guarded room with special access" He said as you walked deeper into the crowd not to look suspicious. "Only owned of a special pass can go in, and the guards are very thorough"

"Great" You breathed. "Now let's hope out lovebirds will come out to mingle"

"As it turns out..." He trailed off, and instinctively, you began turning your head toward where his gaze lead. He immediately redirected your head back to him with a firm, but gentle touch on your cheek. His hand remained there for about three seconds longer than necessary, until he realized what he did and retracted his arm. You could have almost enjoyed it if he didn't look like he was touched by literal fire. "Don't look"

"Sorry" You mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"... They got out, they're talking to people" He informed you, ignoring what just went down. "You go for Stella, I'll take Felix. Remember, friendly but not suspicious. Sweet talk your way into spilling the beans"

"I know" You bit back, your voice low. "Not my first mission, remember? I know what to do"

"I was just reminding you"

"Yeah, I got that" You scoffed. "If you don't trust me, just say so, it'll save you trouble of babying me"

"Come on, that's not–"

He began arguing, but you walked away before you could slip up and say his real name. It would give him one more reason to come down on you like you were a beginner in need of guidance. You were rusty, not stupid. You didn't need him insulting your undercover talents as well. You stopped in front of a beautiful emerald necklace that had a start bid of ten millions dollars and took a long sip of your drink, now kind of bummed it was non alcoholic. But that very detail was probably why you felt a presence approaching you from behind, giving you a few seconds to compose yourself and sweep your frustration under the rug.

"Trouble in paradise?"

You turned around, surprised. It looked like the voice made you jump, when it was in fact the nature of the question that threw you off, as well as the person who had spoken. Before you could ask, the Stella Gustavsson smiled warmly and nodded to where Dick had been seconds earlier.

"I saw what happened" She began, and your heart skipped a beat, hoping she hadn't overheard. "Those frustrated hands gesture are all too familiar. What did he do?"

You relaxed slightly, for now. "We've been having trouble lately, well, more than usually" You explained with a little complicit cock of your head. She seemed to get it. You, on the other hand, knew Dick was hearing everything on his comm, so you decided to go for it. "He's acting... Weird. Can't seem to talk to me without irritating me, whether on purpose or not. I'm sorry, I'm venting to a stranger, I can't imagine how it must look look like.

"Don't worry about it dear, I asked" She winked, extending her hand. "I'm Stella"

"Aleka" You shook her hand.

"Your dress is stunning, by the way!" She exclaimed. "Which designer?”

You froze for a second before shrugging. "No idea, my designer got it for me" You brushed off. "As long as it looks good, I don't care where it comes from"

"Amen" She said, taking a sip of her champagne. "Although, I need to know the name of your designer. They have amazing taste, and I'm looking for a new one for myself"

Oh shit.

"It's B" You replied instantly.

"Bee?"

"Yeah" You nodded, and she looked at you incredulously. "I mean, that's what we all call him. I'm sure he has a name, but I pay him to dress me, not to know his personal life"

"Harsh, (Y/N)" Bruce said in your ear, and you remembered he had been listening to everything. "But nice save"

She laughed, unaware of the comments from Batman himself. "That is very true. How have I not met you before? I feel we have a lot in common"

"I sincerely have no idea" You replied, adding a little gasp of disbelief.

"You're different from this crowd, I can feel it" She kept going on as you started walking side by side in the exposition room. "Everyone here only cares about petty, trivial things. You have a head on your shoulders, you're smart. Too bad your man can't seem to see what's in front of him"

You sighed in agreement to hide the fist pump of victory that threatened to come up. Just like that, you had won Stella over. "I don't know what to do about it. I've tried to talk to him, but it just makes it worse"

"But have you tried to make him jealous?" She suggested with a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "There are plenty of young men around, or older bachelors if you're into that. Flirt with them, make sure he sees you, he'll come running, take my word"

"It won't work, he's not–" Even my boyfriend, you were about to say, but you saved your fall just on time. Still, you could practically see Dick's glare in the back of your head at the almost slip up. "Jealous. He's not a jealous man, he's very confident and secure"

"What a shame" She drawled out, going for her champagne again. "Here's what you can do then. Go to him, take him by the neck and french kiss him like there is no tomorrow”

You choked on your saliva as she watched you with a mischievous grin. "Excuse me?"

"It's guaranteed to work, darling" She lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug. "Then you hold him off. You'll thank me later tonight when you're back at home, just wait and see"

You were about to argue some more, but her insisting stare told you she wasn't just going to let it go. So you scanned the crowd for Dick, spotting him casually excusing himself from a conversation group, going for a refill at the bar. You reached him and grabbed him by the elbow, bringing him face to face with you. You made sure your back was to Stella before beginning to explain the situation.

"I heard" He told you in a mutter, making sure his lips were unreadable under Stella's stare from the distance.

"Then you know what she expects" You sighed, slipping your hands behind his neck. "It doesn't have to be deep, just convincing. Can you do this without grimacing?"

You thought he would stumble into some weak apology, or say something clever. He did neither, instead dived straight for your lips so quickly it was you who was taken by surprise. Naturally, all you could do is kiss him back and try to keep up with him. At some point you thought he would break off, but you weren't prepared for him to actually deepen the kiss. He wasn't letting you go, and it made you dizzy in all the best ways. Let's say you were thankful for his arm around your waist right about now. Finally, you still had to breathe, so you parted reluctantly.

"What was that for?" You asked, your eyes still dazed.

"An apology for irritating you unintentionally" He grinned boyishly, for probably the first time ever directed at you. "I'm an idiot"

"Can confirm" You replied, bringing him down on your lips again. This time, it was a bit shorter, but the spark was still very much present. "You should have done this a long time ago"

"I know" He nodded, his head slightly down and his puppy dog eyes shining even underneath the dark contact lenses. "You're a bit intimidating, I didn't know how to act"

You let out a loud laugh at his confession. "You're kidding"

He pouted.

"Me?" You repeated. "But you're– You're you!"

"Well, duh" He chuckled. "You've got me all tangled in here," He pointed at his chest. "Made me nervous all the time"

You melted just a little bit at his little display, before remembering doing this was a specialty of his. You were just not used to be on the receiving end of it. "You're lucky you're cute, and that I'm already sold on you"

The bright grin returned.

"As heartwarming as this moment is, please focus on the task at hand" Bruce's stern voice echoed in your head, and you were suddenly reminded your conversation had been integrally transmitted to him.

"Right, sorry" Dick apologized sheepishly.

"See, I told you"

This time, you were taken by surprise by Stella walking on you. Even Bruce's intervention hadn't quite brought you back to reality. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. You turned around, trying to hide your flustered state and instead focusing on the tall gentleman at her side. Must be Felix Lachance, you thought.

"It works every time" She added, sipping from a new glass of champagne.

"You were right" You let out an airy laugh. "Stella, this is my husband Joey Moore. Joey, this is my new friend Stella"

They shook hands before she introduced her husband to the both of you. You already knew his name, but you both pretended you didn't for the sake of your covers.

"Nice to meet you two" Félix smiled politely.

"Hey, would you like to go for a drink after this?" Stella asked. "I sure would like to get to know you two better"

Dick and you exchanged a glance, knowing you had locked the target. Acquiring intel from now on would only be a piece of cake, the base was laid for further actions. You smiled, returning your glance to Stella.

"That would be absolutely lovely"

[lupismaris]

sorry you’re feeling so crappy 😔 i hope you feel better soon!!

if you’re feeling up to it, maybe silverflinthamiltons on a lake or beach vacation?

SILVERFLINTHAM LAKESIDE HOLIDAY PART 1 with a surprise! and another segment to follow because this is them arriving to the lake!

(this got long so most of it will be under the cut.)

***

It was summer.

Summer meant blistering asphalt and bags of trash stewing on the curb each morning. Hazy sunlight blinding the street, dark cavernous pockets of shade where the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees, but the air stayed stale and suffocating all the same. It meant too many people and too much noise and parties in the park that never seemed to end, one just replacing another in an endless cycle of hedonism, and bottles of chilled wine and cheap beer sweating on the fountain walls. It meant long dinners and longer lunches, ice cream trucks and Italian ice carts on opposite corners of the street carrying on an old world rivalry. It meant golds and blues and lush greens wherever your eyes happened to fall, be it on a back alley garden or storefront window display.

Silver loved summer.

He loved the warmth and the sprawling picnics and the baring of skin and the feral energy of a child free from school amplified to suit a city of millions and the heady summer storms that shook the glittering skyline in a kind of holy cleanse. He loved the summer fruits and the sweet aperitifs and the old school white linen shirts and open fire hydrants flooding the streets and the neon lights reflecting in the puddles left behind, still evaporating in the hot night, giving the whole world an ethereal glow.

Though he had to admit it was always better spent on a beach with a frosted drink and not a goddamn thing to do. But, if a beach couldn’t be procured, a big, cool, well air conditioned house that was paid for by someone else was an excellent alternative. His sister’s condo in Chelsea for instance was an excellent place to waste away a summer on parties and sun bathing and a private pool that no one else seemed to have the time to use. He had spent several summers with Max that way, even once the Rangers had become part of the picture, if Silver was on the east coast for the summer, he would drop in and waste away a while.

Now though, it looked like summers were going to be spent in Brooklyn, in the big cool townhouse that Thomas had paid for, with the truly miraculously internal air con that was always kept at a balmy 65 degrees from May to October, and with very little to do outside of whatever suited his fancy on any given day. Oh and sex, a lot of sex. This would be the first summer in a very long time where he could not only allow himself a libido, but he could also satiate it.

Silver was thoroughly content with the new circumstances.

He was less content however, with how the summer months, or maybe just the summer months in the city, seemed to bring out the worst in people as frequently as it did the best.

Flint, for example, did not handle summers as well as Silver did. In part it was due to the heat and the sun and the weird smells coming off the steamy side walks, and Silver understood Flint’s frustration with all that, he truly did. But summer also meant more tourists and more people going out for a good time, more people starting brawls in bars and fights in the street and parties spilling over from one bar to the next, or worse packs of bigots making the rounds and harassing whomever they find, everything the working class service folks of the city dreaded- in short, Flint’s stress levels seemed to just rise with the temperature. And considering an average day in July might easily crack 100, Silver was starting to get a tad worried.

“Is it like this every summer?” Silver had asked one Friday morning in June.

The kitchen was soft with the morning sunlight, Thomas in his silk night shirt and robe as he perused the menu for the cafe on the corner, Silver fixing them each an espresso.

“To a point yes. You know how James is about control,” Thomas said with a fond smile, “when he’s at his best he can combat every threat to his sovereignty without so much as flinching. But the summer gets to him, makes him a bit of a wolf in a cage, so to speak.”

“Was he worse in Manhattan?” the buildings sometimes reminded Silver of a cell block, the slivers of sunlight cutting through as hot as cattle prods.

“Much. Hal has tried talking him into not working as much in the summer, but you know how he is, can’t be told anything once he’s got his mind made up. Not to mention he’s never been good at simply existing. There always has to be purpose in it, work to be done, fields to plow and what not.”

Silver huffed a laugh and brought Thomas’ espresso over, feeling a sense of warmth at the notion that he and Thomas were able to share this, to share flint and all his eccentricities.

“I’m sure a man as clever as you thought of some way to keep his blood pressure down, hm?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. Thomas took the espresso cup without looking away from the menu. He set it aside and pulled Silver in, kissing him sweetly in thanks. Ah, that was also a nice thing to share with Thomas, Silver reminded himself.

“Oh I came up with a few ideas, pet. How about we order breakfast, and I’ll tell you about them.”

By Friday, the three of them were packed into Flint’s old Range Rover heading upstate for two weeks of holiday bliss. It had taken multiple phone calls to Gates to make sure the bar would in fact be alright while Flint was gone and to make sure he barred Flint from being within a dozen yards of The Walrus once it closed on Thursday night. It had also taken coaxing, convincing, bartering, and eventually outright bribery with sex to get Flint to stop scowling about the idea of being away from his “ship” for longer than a weekend. There had been other phone calls as well, placed by Thomas in the early hours of the morning when he thought he was the only one awake. When asked about them he just waved the questions away with a mild, “oh just a little extra surprise for James thats all” and Silver did his best to trust him.

It was a five hour drive from the house in Brooklyn to the house on Lake Cayuga that Thomas had purchased during his recovery, to he and Flint would have a quiet place to heal and make up for lost time without the strain of the city grating on them. Silver had never been upstate, his various clients had always preferred houses in the Hamptons, but from the photos it was a cozy little cottage style house right on the shore, a couple bedrooms, an airy kitchen, lush garden, and a private pier that stretched out into the lake. There was also apparently a boat, a little hybrid sailboat of polished wood and deep blue paint, the name Ariel written in careful golden script. Silver wanted to ask whether Flint had bought it or built it, because he was the kind of high strung man to just build a boat from scratch instead of buying one or scheduling extra therapy. But the scowl on his face as they tucked the suitcases into the trunk told him it wasn’t worth the teasing. Not yet anyway.

Flint insisted on driving the whole five hours himself, scowling silently behind the wheel as he drove them through miles of lush farmland, leaving Thomas and Silver to chat about what they might do once they get settled in. There was plenty of hiking, though Thomas was worried the gorges might be tricky for Silver’s regular prosthetic, ample water falls and countless parks to explore. Lots of quaint small towns with seafood shacks and local fare and more wineries than even Thomas knew what to do with. And of course, most importantly, there was the lake.

Flint kept his silence till the last hour of the ride, the scowl firmly set on his jaw. Silver and Thomas had switched seats so Thomas could stretch out and nap in the back seats, leaving Silver to try and coax a smile out of his partner. Not that he had to do much. As the car climbed yet another rolling hill, Silver watched the horizon, his hand in Flint’s, trying to figure out whether the deep blue streak that had suddenly appeared was a dark patch of sky.

It wasn’t, for the record.

Silver frowned and turned to Flint, planning to ask if it was the lake and exactly how big was said lake- but the question died well before he could even open his mouth.

The scowl was gone, dropped from Flint’s face and replaced by the softest look of wonder Silver had ever seen on the man, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, making his mustache twitch. It was as if something had hooked its line into Flint’s chest and was slowly reeling him in, his whole body sitting straighter, the tension in his shoulders bleeding out until he was leaning into the steering wheel. His hand even held tighter to Silver’s, an unconscious need to keep himself tethered maybe, or to keep Silver close.

“Is that the lake?” Silver managed to ask with a soft smile of his own.

“Yeah. We’ll be at the cabin in half an hour.”

They got there in twenty minutes, not that anyone was actually counting.

The lake stretched out before them, a sea of deep blues and aquamarines, glittering with the hot late June sunlight that danced across it’s surface. It’s shores were patched with wildflowers and thick thatches of wood, little clusters of cabins and boat houses, who’s owners were out skipping across the surface like dragon flies on their small boats and kayaks. The afternoon air was hazy and sweet, the whole scene a postcard from the mythical summers of memory that everyone aspired to, bird song and the low hum of the radio escorting them along the final stretch of route 90. Flint pulled them down a narrow side road, passing a few comfortably sized homes with ample space between them, until they reached the dead end of the street, and the little cottage Silver had seen in the photos, with the shadow of the pier dark across the water, and the Ariel waiting like a loyal dog in her berth.

“Oh good,” Thomas said with a yawn, finally pulling himself back into a sitting position and stretching, as Flint pulled the car into the drive alongside what looked like a rental car. “I was starting to think we were lost.”

Silver looked back at him, ready to tease about old men and naps, but Thomas was looking down at his phone, his fingers quickly switching on the stop watch. “Thomas what-”

The range rover lurched to a sudden stop as Flint hit the brakes and Silver had to cling to the seat to keep himself upright. Thomas seemed completely unfazed, draped across the back seat in his half buttoned linen shirt and designer sunglasses, watching with an air of fond expectation as Flint threw on the parking brake and booked it from the car, leaving the engine running.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Silver asked.

Thomas laughed and reached around the driver’s seat to shut the car off. “Exactly what I expected him to do, though I’ll admit I expected him to at least properly stop the car first.”

“What? Thomas- oh my god he’s going in the lake?” Silver asked, watching as Flint cleared the back fence and striped off his shirt, leaving it on the lawn as he kept moving towards the pier. His boots, socks, and jeans followed, barely breaking his quick stride to strip them off.

“Last time it took him a whole ten minutes to get into the water,” Thomas said, helping Silver, who was too busy staring in shock at the sight of his stern and stoic partner racing across the back patio like a child, from the car. “He might clear five minutes this time.”

A few more quick strides and Flint dove from the end of the pier, breaking the surface of the lake with a thunderous sound and disappearing into the blue.

“He’s in the lake,” Silver said.

Thomas hooked their arms together, the two of them walking leisurely across the lawn. “Every visit, the first thing he does is go to the water. It’s even more dramatic when it’s the ocean, maybe I’ll book us a house on the coast next month.”

“More dramatic than stripping down to his boxers in the back yard?” he asked.

The back lawn of the house was a mix of a large patio and and a short green, with a fire pit and a grill, a small dining table and some cozy chairs, and what silver hoped was a hot tub. A woman was stretched out on one of the long beach chairs in a deep green bikini, her dark hair cut short and a magazine across her lap, though she was watching the water, where Flint had just resurfaced for a moment before diving again.

“Miranda?” Silver called, aware that Thomas was beaming behind him but not at all surprised to see his ex wife. That explained the phone calls, and the rental car out front.

“I believe our husband is in the lake my dears,” Miranda called with a laugh, getting up to come greet them. “God he’s like a little boy at a swimming hole.”

“I’d ask how you got here but that seems almost silly,” Silver said, letting her pull him into a tight hug. They had taken to each other from the first, which had left Thomas and Flint a little uneasy. Miranda’s humor matched his, her wit sharp and familiar, and Silver had learned very quickly why Flint and Thomas were both still in love with her. He wasn’t far from it himself.

“Thomas called, said James needed an intervention,” She said, letting him go to kiss Thomas hello and hug him tight. “I’m on break from teaching this summer and the fall concert season hasn’t started yet, could I come out and join you for a couple weeks? Which was a silly question, I was buying a ticket the moment he suggested it.”

Thomas kissed the top of her head, smiling brightly. “I had hoped you might be his surprise before he jumped in the lake, I’m sorry my dear.”

Silver watched them, feeling a bit dizzy. They were were a perfect pair, Miranda dark and elegant under Thomas’ arm, the cool dusk sky to Thomas’ golden hour sun.

“Don’t be, I’ll go down to him, maybe join him in the water for a bit.” She kissed his cheek, then Silver’s. “There’s some snacks laid out in the kitchen and dinner will be delivered in a couple hours, why don’t you get the bags inside and then come join us. Maybe we can even take Ariel out before dinner.”

“Oh now there’s an idea,” Thomas agreed, moving to go back and fetch the bags from the car. “Tell our husband we’ll join you in a moment. If you can manage to get him up for air.”

Miranda laughed, a bright sunny sound that always reminded Silver of how she played piano, and made her way down to the pier. He watched as she sat down on the edge of the pier, as the surface of the water broke and Flint emerged, staring up at her in shock. Silver heard her laughing, saw her reach out and watched as Flint reached up and pulled her into the lake with a joyful shout of her name. They were lost for a moment to the water, kicking up waves as Flint held her tight and danced them around, clumsy and free. Behind him Silver could hear Thomas laughing, felt his hand as it came to rest warm and sure on his lower back, pulling him in close, as he said something about wishing they’d gotten that on film.

For Silver, it was one of those moments where suddenly he remembered what all those old love songs were written about. He understood it.

And it was finally his.

[villainousshakespeare]

Putting it Back Together Chapter 4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Adam/OFC

Rated M (will probably change to E) - Grief, angst, eventual smut, mention of characters dead before the start of the story, blood, slow burn, touch starved

Summary: Since the death of his beloved Eve, Adam had been barely living, only alive due to a promise he made to her. Then one night he meets his new neighbor, a woman dealing with grief of her own. Will they help each other heal or drive each other crazy?

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere

This had not been part of his plan, Adam thought as he switched on a lamp and cringed at the disaster that was his livingroom. Instruments and musical equipment were strewn all over the place, wires and amps just waiting to trip the unwary or uncoordinated. Which, by everything he had observed so far, definitely included his companion.

"Sorry for the mess," he mumbled, clearing a path to the sofa with his foot.

"Don't be," Lilly smiled, looking around with avid interest. "It's exactly how I envisioned it!"

"Great," Adam rolled his eyes.

"Not that I've been envisioning it," she blurted out, face turning scarlet. "I just meant... well, if I thought about it at all, which I only did because I could hear you so clearly over here... and what with all the clattering around..."

"You expected it to be a wreck," he finished for her as he swept a collection of books off of the ancient sofa and onto the floor.

"It's cozy," she said lamely.

"If you say so. Sorry I don't have anything to offer you except water to drink. I don't entertain. Ever."

"Water would be perfect," she smiled encouragingly at him, as though he were a toddler displaying acceptable manners in company.

Which, he supposed, was about right. Fuck, he wasn't even sure if the water here was potable. He had never drank any of it, of course. He only used the kitchen sink to wash the cordial glasses from which he drank his blood. Fetching a slightly larger cup that he had found in the cupboard when he moved in and giving it a quick clean, Adam let the water run for a few minutes to help clear out the pipes. It didn't look too contaminated; he hoped he was not about to poison her.

"Here," he walked back to the livingroom and thrust the glass into her hand. "No ice, freezer doesn't work."

"I'd say you should call the super, but I guess that doesn't work if you're the owner."

"It doesn't really bother me," he replied with a shrug. "I'll fix it myself eventually."

"After all, you don't have guests," she said impishly.

"Right."

"Perfectly drinkable," she judged after taking a sip from the cup.

"Good. Now, let me see if I can find that tape player."

That was what she was doing here, after all. Why his invitation had popped out he could not fathom, much less how he had ended up bringing her back here that very night. At least this way he could limit the time he spent with her, he supposed. It was already two in the morning; not long until the sun began to approach the horizon and he would be forced to show her the door whether he wanted to or not.

Glancing over to where she lounged on his sofa, he was not so sure what the decision would be on that one. Her legs, stretched out on the cushion, were quite shapely despite her petite stature, and the red top just invited one to run their hands over it to feel the silky material and the lush curves underneath. And then, of course, there was her neck, long and white and begging to be bitten.

Adam swallowed and turned away. He  could not help but think of the last time he had had a mortal in his home, though it had not been this one. Ian, his supplier of instruments and all around procurer had been almost a friend, if a zombie could ever be thought so. He was sweet and harmless, and Adam had a genuine affection for him in a distant sort of way. It had been a horrid shock to walk into the room one night after sun set and see the young man sitting lifeless on the couch, blood drained from his body and drying on the face of Ava, Eve's feral sister.

Adam had always hated Ava, and that night had been the last straw. It was also the beginning of the end to life as he knew it. Within hours he had tossed her out on her skinny ass, disposed of poor Ian's body, and was on a flight with Eve to Tangier, where she was destined to drink tainted blood and die. All because Ava had sucked Ian dry. All the more reason to hate his late wife's bitch of a sister.

Still, looking at Lilly stretching herself out, he could understand a little better how Ian had come to die. Ava had whined to them about how cute he had been, how she couldn't resist. At the time he had scorned such a thing as a pathetic lack of self control. He still did to a large extent, but at last he knew the urge. Not just the urge to feed, an impulse they all shared, but an urge to take a human in such an intimate embrace. When Eve was alive it would never have occurred to him, he had had her for such connections, he needed no one else. Now though, alone and untouched for years, he longed to feel Lilly's smooth skin against his mouth, to hear her gasp and sigh as he ran his lips over her neck.

Not that he would ever drain her, of course. He was not such a monster. He would not even drink from her. To do so would expose his true nature, and that would mean relocating again, as well as putting her life in danger.

No, he would do her this one favor, and then he would return to seclusion. He would make sure that he left through the basement when absolutely necessary so that she did not hear him, would otherwise stay inside so that their paths would cease to cross. It would be better for them both.

"Here it is," he mumbled with satisfaction. "Give me a moment to set it up."

"Take your time," she said happily.

Glancing over, Adam saw that she had given up lounging and was now coiling up all of guitar cables into neat rounds. He had to admit that she did a good job - they were neither too tight so as to damage the wires nor too loose so as to unravel as soon as she walked away. With a shrug of his shoulders he allowed her to continue. The cables could use sorting, and he was certainly not inclined to the task.

"Sorry," she said with a blush as she caught him staring. "I warned you, I fidget. I seem to always need something to do with my hands."

He could think of several things she could do to keep her hands busy, he thought. God, what was wrong with him? Was he really so touch starved?

"Where's the tape?" he finally asked

She leapt up from where she had been sitting, breasts bouncing as she did, and almost reverently handed him the box containing her Grandmother's recordings. Adam turned back around, discreetly adjusting himself as he did. He carefully placed the spool in his machine, grateful for something to occupy him until he got himself under control.

After a short series of clicks and static while the tape began to unreel, a scratchy blare of a trumpet began to waft through the air, soon joined by a piano and soft brushes on drums. Adam was taken back to a different era. A time when he had circulated more among the general population of humans. Women wore dresses and hats, men suits and ties, and a sophisticated style permeated the music scene. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed that era, the end of the 40s and beginning of the 50s. Between his excitement at the recent technological advances and his nostalgia for the old days of the height of classical composition, Adam sometimes forgot the joy and sorrow, the feeling that jazz could evoke.

When the voice, low, smooth, and heavy with emotion, slid in like honey, he looked instinctively to Lilly. Her mouth was open, shaped with a hint of smile at the corners. Her eyes blinked quickly, struggling he was sure to hold back tears. This would be the first time, he supposed, that he had heard her Grandmother sing since she had died. Even without the connection to the woman, Adam himself was moved by the song. He was struck by how strong Lilly was being, listening and holding back her tears.

Moving one step towards her, Adam opened his arms. With a catch of indrawn breath Lilly took two steps of her own and for the second time buried her face against his chest. It was so different thought, he thought as his arms came around her. That first night on the roof, she had been some annoying zombie woman, pushing herself in where she was not wanted. Her blubbering all over him had been almost violent in the way she sobbed and clutched at him. Now, she simply melted against him, and he gently stroked her back as he rested his chin on the top of her head.

The song ended and another began, this one he remembered. It had been a huge hit, still was sung every so often, covered by lesser vocalists. Lilly's Grandmother was not one of those. She was a true artist.

"There's a somebody I'm longing to see, I hope that he turns out to be Someone to watch over me..."

As the music continued, Adam found himself swaying to it, bringing Lilly along with him. She was stiff at first in his arms when he began to dance with her, but when she realized what he was doing she relaxed and allowed herself to feel the rhythm. She would never be a natural dancer, and she was clearly still in her head, but there was something sweet about that. She tried so hard at everything. Tried to be strong, tried to keep busy, tried to learn, tried to be happy.

When was the last time he had been happy, Adam wondered. When was the last time he had even tried? Not since Eve, certainly. Before that, he was unsure. There were moments, of course, even at the end with her when he had been so. He loved her with an enduring passion. But he had been going through the motions for decades, shutting himself off from the world around him. Ian had been practically his only connection to it.

Pulling back a bit, he spun Lilly about and half smiled at her. It felt strange to smile even that much. Muscles he had not used in forever only half remembered how to work. He had always had a brooding nature, but of late it had become harsh even for him.

They kept dancing until the tape ended, adjusting to the tempo and style of each song. It felt so good to lose himself in someone else's music for a change. To hold someone, to connect with someone. She was right, what she had said earlier that night. Music required no discussion, no messy dialogue. You could just feel it, let it move through you. And where there was someone else there, someone who even if not a musician herself clearly had an ear and more to the point a soul for it, to share it with it could be a profound experience.

When at last the song ended, Adam and Lilly's eyes met and something deeper than a smile passed between them. It was sad and joyful and required no words. They both collapsed on the sofa, Adam pulling her into the crook of his arm as he sat sprawled and tired. Lilly's legs were curled under her and she rested her head against his chest. He could feel the rise and fall of breathing, fast at first from the exertion of dancing, begin to slow. It was some time later that he realized she had fallen asleep on him.

How strange, he thought, that she should be so comfortable with him that she could so easily drift off. He had perfected the art of scaring people off, and yet this tiny woman had tenaciously refused to be run off. She seemed to trust him, even, had shared something deeply personal with him.

The sun would be up soon. He should wake her, he knew. Yet, looking at how peaceful she looked he could not bring himself to do so. Gently, Adam slid out from beneath her, lowering her head down onto a convenient throw pillow. He foraged about until he found a blanket on an armchair and draped it over her, tucking her in. Lilly sighed and burrowed deeper into the sofa, a light sigh escaping her lips.

Taking one last look, he made sure the curtains were drawn, turned off the light, and headed to his bedroom. Things would go back to normal tomorrow; they had too. But let them both sleep peacefully today.

***

Lilly scrunched her eyes and stretched a bit, trying to wriggle away from a hard lump she could feel under her left side. What had she left on her bed that was poking into her with such insistency. Feeling under her blindly, she pulled out something long and wooden. A drumstick? How on earth had that ended up in her bed? And why did the mattress feel like velvet?

As she emerged from the fog of sleep, Lilly came to the sudden realization that she was not, in fact, in her own bed.

Sitting up, she felt a smile cross her face that was lit from within. Last night had been a good night. She had reconnected with some old friends, and maybe even made a new one. Twenty-four hours ago Lilly would have thought the possibility of a friendship with Adam a fantasy at best, delusion more likely. And yet he had approached her, he had accepted her invitation to the club, and he had issued an invitation of his own that led her back to his apartment.

Oh, not that Lilly was crazy enough to think that he meant anything more by it than friendship. She was not the type of woman that brooding musicians stayed up composing love songs for. She was the type who hounded them with her insistent chirping until they finally relented and occasionally allowed them inside, like the mangy cat you gave milk to once who would forever after haunted your door. She was fine with that, she told herself. He had been a friend when she needed one, lending her an arm to dance with and a shoulder to lean on when she needed it most.

He had also, it seemed from the blanket draped around her, tucked her in. Her grin widened. Despite how hard he tried to cultivate his grumpy persona, Adam had could not hide the sweet kindness in his nature from her any longer. She had felt it as he had held her last night, and later when they danced.

That had been something she would not soon forget. Lilly was too tense as a rule to be graceful, but Adam was such a strong leader that she had stopped worrying about his poor toes and let herself simply enjoy. His body had been a continuation of the music, feeling it to the tips of his fingers and the ends of his hair it seemed. All loose and yet firm where his hand lay on her back, he had guided her flawlessly, swaying to the sound.

All in all, it had been a far better send off for her grandmother than the stuffy funeral planned by her father. The old woman would have enjoyed last night, Lilly knew, and she would have enjoyed Adam. Beyond the shared love of music, his sharp tongue and kind heart would have been just to her liking.

Not wanting to send her mind down fruitless paths, Lilly stood up to get a better look at the room. It really was exactly how she had imagined it, if not more so. Every flat surface from the floor to the mismatched furniture was covered in instruments, sound equipment, mechanisms for which she had no names, and the odd notebook or staff paper. Three of the walls were covered in sound proofing foam, the third in an odd collection of portraits. Looking at them, Lilly found scientists, authors, artists, philosophers, all sorts of creative and intellectual types. She made a game of naming them all, only coming up blank on two (although three more were guesses), and trying to decipher meaning from who was present and who absent. Somewhere in there, she was sure, was the secret to his mind's inner working.

Part way through her perusal, Lilly realized that nature was calling. Assuming the layout to his home was similar to hers, she made her way as quietly as she could up the creaky staircase. Once at the top, she was greeted with a long hallway, three doors on each side.

The first door she tried opened into a room dominated by a large drum kit. Scattered about around it were a music store's worth of other percussive instruments. Some day, she thought, she would like to come back and play in here, to see if she could bang out some of her inner frustration. It must be as good as therapy in some ways!

As she opened the second door an avalanche of what she thought were rugs or tapestries of some sort threatened to come spilling out and bury her. She quickly leaned all of her weight against it to close it shut again, hoping she hadn't disturbed anything expensive and moved on to the third door.

Lilly forgot how to breath as she opened it. There, spread out on a large bed covered in pillows, lay Adam, completely naked.

Lilly knew she needed to quickly exit, closing the door behind her, but she could not seem to make her limbs obey her. If Michelangelo had wanted a model for his David, he could have used him, she thought. Adam lay on his stomach, face buried in a pillow. While this luckily or unfortunately (she could not decide) preserved some of his modesty, there was still quite a bit on display to appreciate.

Broad, well muscled shoulders and back gleamed pale, contrasting against the dark of his hair where it fell. His waist segued gorgeously into a pair of slender hips and - dear lord, there should be a law! - a perfectly firm and round ass that Lilly would have given her right hand to squeeze. Long, lean legs seemed to go on for days, and actually fell off the bed before reaching his gigantic feet. A mischievous part of Lilly felt the urge to reach out and tickle them, and she actively clasped her hands behind her back to keep from acting on this awful impulse.

Had she really tried to convince herself, just moments before, that she was perfectly happy to just be his friend? If so, she had been deluding herself. Oh, she would take what she could get, but Lilly knew in that moment that she would go to her grave ruined for anyone else.

As she stood staring unabashedly at him, Adam mumbled something incomprehensible into the pillow. Lilly started to make for the door, but his head turned towards her and she realized he was still asleep. Cautiously, she lingered a moment longer, watching as he reached out to the other side of the bed, as though searching for something not there.

"Eve," he said, clearly this time. "Baby, I miss you."

Someone had reached into Lilly's chest and crushed her heart between their fist.

She had no idea why it had never occurred to her that he might have a lover, or even a wife. He was beyond gorgeous, brilliantly talented, and obviously had money. Anyone would want him. Why should she assume that just because there was no woman here at this moment he was single?

And yet, clearly, she had. The raw emotion in his voice, the need as he called the woman's name had been all it took to destroy her heart.

Following the direction he was facing, Lilly realized that in this room of dirty laundry and bedding, one picture stood out like a beacon. Placed on the table next to the bed where it could clearly be seen was a photo of Adam and a woman of ethereal beauty. She was not "pretty" in a conventional way, but had something far beyond that. Almost as tall as he was, and perhaps even paler, she was stunning in a cream colored suite with yellow gold hair. Adam had his arms twined around her center, and looked at her with such love in his eyes that it was unmistakable.

Forgetting her need for the bathroom, Lilly bolted out of the room and down the stairs. She needed to get out of here. Away from the perfect man who she was afraid she had already fallen for and the perfect woman who was clearly everything Lilly was not. Including it now became clear, the one that Adam wanted.

[procrastinatorimagines]

I Want Us Part 2

Fandom: SVU / Chicago PD

Series: I Want Us

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 (Final)

Pairing: Carisi x Reader

Warning/s: mentions of kidnapping

Word Count: 1,513

Summary:  When a child abduction case crosses state lines in New York, Intelligence flies out to meet the Special Victims Unit and track down the missing boy. With the clock ticking, both units decide to mix up partners in order to combine their knowledge of the case with knowledge of New York City, pairing Intelligence’s newest member Y/N with Detective Carisi. Soon these new partners find themselves staking out a potential location for their suspect, getting to know each other to pass the time.

Tags: @inlovewith3​ //

“Chicago or New York, a stakeout is stakeout,” you yawned, checking your watch through tired eyes. It was coming up to 2 am and while you wanted nothing more than to be asleep, all your intel pointed to O’Connell conducting his business after midnight.

Carisi couldn’t agree more, sat next to you in the drivers seat as you watched bar O’Connell reportedly owned. The place was dark, scaffolding to one side of newspaper covered doors. Apparently, apparently this old run down building was his newest investment, and you’d thought it was a good a place as any to conduct private business, especially the kind involving a missing child that an entire city was out looking for. 

Voight and Benson had agreed, you and Carisi had found yourselves parked just down the road, undercover car largely obscured by a hedge and fence. Hours combing through files at his desk had cumulated into this, swapping intel between both units as you all tried to figure out and navigate your new temporary partnerships.

“What is this guy, a vampire or something?” Carisi half joked, half complained. You were both wearing your vests, but had since ditched your police jackets, the heat making both of you more tired that you’d like. The night had brought little relief from the Summer sun that had been beating down all day, the leaves on the hedge barely conveying any signs of a breeze. 

“Maybe I was wrong about this,” you admitted after a moment, watching yet another car that wasn’t O’Connell drive down the street and into the distance. None had stopped outside the bar, no one had even walked close to it except an elderly couple on the other side of the street.

Carisi glanced your way for a long moment, watching as you worried your lip as you thought about Logan. You didn’t know what was going through his mind, but he’d been torn away from his entire life by a man he barely knew, and you didn’t want to think about what would happen if you didn’t get him back tonight.

“You trust your gut?” Carisi asked, the question giving you pause. Gut instinct had always been something Voight valued in his Intelligence Unit, you had to trust yourself and those around you if you were going to make it through the day, and catch the bad guy. 

“I do,” you told him with conviction. With limited information and limited time, you could afford the luxury of spending days checking out each of O’Connell’s potential locations, it was now or never, and every fiber of your being was telling you that this was the place.

“Well okay,” Carisi replied, “then we stay put. The rest of our units are checking out other possible spots he might show tonight, we’ll get him.” He gave you a reassuring smile and reached into the bag by his feat, pulling out a tupperware box.

You had to ask. “How can you be so confident? I mean the Special Victims Unit, you guys do this kind of thing all the time, I’m not sure I could remain as optimistic as you.” He chuckled at that, offering you what looked like home made cannoli from the box as he thought over your question. You thanked him, devouring the sweet treat a little too eagerly, it tasted great and you hadn’t eaten in hours.

“I have faith, without it I don’t know if I’d have been able to do it for as long as I have,” he answered honestly, “what we do makes a difference, protecting those who need it the most and making the world a little safer, you just need to think about the ones you’ve saved, not the ones you haven’t.”

“But these cases... I mean we deal with the worst people, but you deal with the worst of the worst,” you continued. All the cases in Intelligence that stuck with you were like the cases SVU dealt with all the time, but despite the years he’d spent doing these cases, Carisi still had such a light and hope about him.

Antonio was your partner, and friend, you’d take a bullet for him in a heartbeat, but you’d seen what years on the job had done to him. The divorce, the drugs... it weighed on him, you could see it in his eyes. It had obviously occurred to you that Intelligence wasn’t your average unit by any means, but this different perspective was more refreshing that you expected.

“We also catch the worst of the worst, most of the time,” Carisi countered and you grinned. You hadn’t really thought about it like that, helping yourself to some more food. He regarded you for a second before adding: “you haven’t been a detective long have you?”

You shrugged, “couple of years, moved out of uniform as quickly as I could though, barely got the promotion before Voight offered me a spot in his unit.” You thought back to those early days, how excited you’d been to be offered the job, everyone knew about Intelligence and its reputation, you’d jumped at the chance to be a part of the unit and hadn’t looked back since. 

“Give it some time, you’ll find the right mentality you need to process these kinds of cases,” Carisi assured you, eyes flicking back to the deserted, half lit street. You could tell he was just as worried and determined as you were to save Logan, but he also had a calm about him right then that you really wished you could master.

“These are amazing by the way,” you told him, cannoli in hand as you tried to steer the conversation away from the serious edge it had acquired, “did you make them?” 

He smiled, eyes lighting up a little. “Yeah I did, family recipe. I like to make them on long stakeouts, keeps the blood sugar high and the spirits up.”

“Well I am going to have to cozy up to your family then if you all cook like this,” you laughed, thinking about your own family, and then thinking about Logan’s as the laughter died.

“So what about you, you cook?” Carisi asked and you pulled yourself out of your worried thoughts.

“Me? Nah, not so much. I mean, I used to, but I never seem to find the time anymore,” you admitted. Working in Intelligence was pretty demanding, worth it, but still, there was only so much take out a person should eat, and you’d definitely surpassed that limit getting back from work after all those late nights. 

“Order some of your pie pizzas instead?” He teased and you feigned dramatic insult.

“Oh really? You had to go there?” You laughed, “keep your paper pizzas alright, Chicago knows what it’s doing.” Carisi shook his head and you knew it was an argument neither of you would concede, but you’d found yourself getting pretty comfortable in the car. 

“Forgive me if I don’t take the word of someone who only once got a connecting flight through here, have you ever actually had proper New York pizza? Because I’ve had Chicago’s attempt,” he pointed out, causing you to pause with your mouth half open, knowing that you didn’t have anyway to dispute that.

“I- shut up,” you replied like a middle schooler and soon you were both laughing. Carisi was easy to talk to, not just with his clarity about the job, but his welcoming personality too. 

“You should try it before you go back to Chicago, after we wrap this case,” he suggested and you offered a little shrug to say you’d think about it just as another car was driving down the road. 

You were instantly alert as you noticed the car beginning to slow, both you and Carisi switching gears into police mode as the car pulled up outside of the bar. Gotcha.

You waited with bated breath, one hand resting on the handle of your door while the other inched towards your thigh holster. Carisi radioed in a potential sighting, both ready to go at a moments notice as three figures emerged from the car. Two taller, male, the other quite clearly a child. 

While the dimly lit street prevented you both from making a clear ID, the plates on the car matched the ones seen leaving JFK. You and Carisi nodded to each other, this was it. Carisi confirmed the sighting and you were ordered to hold your position unless absolutely necessary, with Voight placing pointed emphasis on your name as he relayed the instructions.

You clenched your jaw, hating waiting as they all went to the entrance of the bar, knocking before being let it. There were other people inside, maybe O’Connell himself. Part of you wanted to go in right now, finish it, but you didn’t know how many people were inside, or how armed they were. Waiting for back up was the only option for now, so you reluctantly sat tight.

“We’ll get him,” Carisi insisted, noticing your tension, just as ready to spring into action as you were.