#so she said she’d take me on a shopping trip this weekend and i was really excited

[cetoddle]

i really feel like crying but i also feel like im just being really selfish

[ohblackdiamond]

paulventures in florida

first off, this would not have been remotely possible without my dear friend @elrohare who generously, and incredibly, asked if i'd be her +1 to this event. I'm eternally grateful for a wonderful time.

friends, romans, countrymen, lend me your ears--

wait, that's not right.

HEY, PEE-PUL--

On 2/23/24, Cynthia and I met Paul Stanley and had dinner with him. 

Our full weekend adventure eventually ended up taking us all around the sovereign state of Florida, a state I have not (been) driven around since 1998, when my family went on a trip to Disney World.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many palm trees or so much Spanish moss.

But you don’t wanna hear about the insane roads of Florida, you wanna hear about Paul.  We’ll get there.

I was running on approximately four hours of sleep due to having taken a 7 a.m. flight in order to ensure I would be able to see Paul in the first place.  Was Paul actually due to show up around 7 p.m.?  Yes.  Did I care?  No.  It was not exactly a short drive from the Orlando airport where Cynthia picked me up  to the Hard Rock hotel/casino in Hollywood (Florida) where the gallery was.  We had to guarantee our presence (and I had to guarantee that there would be room for error should my flight be delayed!).  Once we were at the Wentworth gallery, Cynthia’s art broker, Laura, showed her one of her pieces. Laura also mentioned offhand that “he (Paul Stanley) was just here earlier” and I believe she may have showed us a picture of him at the gallery– I know she said he was nice.  Inside of the gallery was a small section with a table full of different sharpies (gold, silver, black) and he had scribbled on a piece of paper or something on the table to test one out. 

Cynthia determined she could only fit one of the paintings in her trunk and would have to have the other shipped.  She took care of those details and afterwards asked when we should be there for Paul– we were told that, of course, around seven was it but if we wanted to poke over at 6 or 6:30, we could.  She encouraged us to hang around and shop/etc. if we wanted, but honestly, the mall aspect of the casino was fairly paper-thin and if you weren’t gambling and weren’t super-enamoured with the (admittedly cool) water/fountain light show, you weren’t going to be entertained for hours on end.  Fortunately, obsessing over our upcoming meeting/dinner was entertaining enough when it wasn’t nerving us both out! 

We had some discussion on whether we should show up at the gallery again right at 6 or not, and ended up kind of poking over and realizing that the gallery hadn’t exactly filled up at that point.  We ended up poking back in at 6:30, which was ideal.  Directly outside the gallery (you could only really stick around in there if you’d purchased or were very interested in purchasing a painting, due to the meet and greet aspect that was going to happen there in the back) was starting to get a bit crowded and that only continued– fans with things they were hoping to get signed/hoping he would look at (there was a gorgeous drawing of eighties Paul that a girl was holding up that she’d done!)-- but I think a lot of them just wanted to get a glimpse of Paul. 

Cynthia and I made some small talk with the other gallery-goers, including a nice couple, Heather and her partner, Eric. Heather was wearing a really pretty purple gradient dress while Eric had a blazer with a custom-made purple shirt underneath that had the Starchild makeup on it.  They were pretty invested, especially Eric, though they’d done these events before.  It was cute how Heather would come back over and say “I think he’s bought another one….” (Heather also was trying to ensure there would be a non-meat option at the dinner for Eric due to Lent.)  

I noticed that every so often someone from the gallery would open a door at the back (near the Sharpie table), say something, and then shut it, so I was pretty sure that Paul was right behind there, which terrified me.  But then he just suddenly appeared only a couple feet from us, which was more terrifying (to me) and I sort of immediately tried not to look his way for fear of– aw, geez, I don’t know; I have a lot of feelings.

“Who’re you here to see?” he said, and the small crowd (myself included) immediately answered back with “Paul!!” 

He was smiling– he was smiling a lot.  I have encountered Paul prior on Kruises and I’d honestly never seen him look nearly that happy at those.  Maybe it’s because he’s really a mermaid and is really bitter every time KISS goes out to sea, but honestly, it’s probably mostly because he gets seasick and getting stuck on a ship for five days with a couple thousand rabid fans is probably not his idea of a good time. 

Dinner with about 20-30 rabid fans apparently was right up his alley, though!

We had been told prior to Paul’s arrival that we were third in line for him.  I had brought Mandate but this was more something I’d feel out– I’d said to Cynthia way beforehand that if it didn’t get signed/didn’t feel right to try to get signed, that was fine because after all, I was there as a plus-one.  I will honestly admit that seeing him look like he felt that good made me feel like maybe the magazine would ruin his demeanor– anyway, while we could’ve watched any and all of the other meet and greets, I really wanted to let everyone else have their space/time– I did not want to be creeping around trying to get extra shots of him or anything. 

I was also just extremely nervous.  I think we both were! 

We were called up around maybe 7:10 or 7:15.  I wanted to make sure I didn’t cut into Cynthia’s time and also make sure I was not weird, either.  Paul was great. He immediately complimented Cynthia’s star dress, which she said she’d worn in his honor and curtsied very cutely.  She introduced herself and shook his hand; then I introduced myself and shook his hand, and then she talked to him about seeing the last MSG show and about Evan being there and how cool that was (to have him opening for KISS’ last show); he said it wouldn’t be the last time (for Evan).  He said something about how MSG was special (paraphrase) or that it was a special time, something like that.

Then he said he guessed it was time to take some pictures– they brought out first the Starchild picture, took a picture of us (one of my feet was shaking by this point so I didn’t stand too close to him), and then he said to the photographer, “I blinked” (he did not) and said quietly to Cynthia, “You get two.” 

Next was the Gene picture. Cynthia said she liked the crystals on it and he said that they were Swarovski and that they were hard to put on or took a long time to do, something along those lines. Once the photos were over, he wrote her dedication (“Cynthia, Make life a work of art, Paul Stanley”) on a black sheet of paper– I noticed as he was writing it that he went back to fix one of the letters) and Cynthia seized the chance to ask him to sign her copy of his autobiography. He was really quick about it– “Yeah, I’ll sign that,” and immediately signed the front cover.  (I told Cynthia afterwards that of course he signed the front– it had his face on it; he couldn’t help himself!)  As either this or the paper-signing was going on, the photographer handed me Cynthia’s phone back and I was so dumbstruck by everything that I just kind of looked at the phone in sheer confusion for a second or two– I think a part of me somehow thought there was something he wanted me to do with it, when in actuality he was just giving it back!  He said he’d see us soon and Cynthia corrected that we’d see him at dinner. 

“Three points,” I said as we exited (to the main area of the gallery). (I don’t usually give him any points. I have a lot of conflicting feelings about Paul, but had promised Cynthia I would not say anything disparaging about him during the duration of our time together.) We were both in a state of giddiness mixed with that feeling of it being all over mixed with anticipation. It was really the sort of feeling I’ve only had at meet and greets, but the night wasn’t over.  We stuck around the gallery, still talking to other KISS fans (one guy had the most amazing KISS shoes with the RARO cover art on them that either he or his boyfriend had painted, can’t remember– he said that Paul wanted them and he wouldn’t let him have them!).  Heather said that Eric had moved his timeslot down to the very end, but there were people that came in way later than everyone else, so I’m not sure if he actually got the last timeslot or not.  And as we were waiting, we got another meet and greet.  

This one was not so good and it was my fault.

This one was Doc McGhee’s would-be meet and greet. 

I had met Doc on a couple occasions, the last one being most memorable even if we didn’t speak.  I had a very good seat at the next-to-last MSG concert and as Doc walked down to his own seat before the show started (or possibly a song or so in– might’ve been as I was standing up!) he reached over and quickly pressed something into my hand: I opened my hand and found it was a guitar pick (I couldn’t see whose it was at that point), and immediately closed my hand and held onto it for dear life for the next two hours, only sticking it in my purse when I felt certain I wouldn’t lose it.  It’s a (worn) Paul pick– a good omen. 

Anyway, Doc just wandered in the main entrance, as Doc is wont to, and spoke to a couple people. Doc not being anywhere near as intimidating as Paul, I told Cynthia, “I’m gonna say hi to Doc” and walked over to him.

“Hey, Doc! You gave me a pick at Madison Square Garden!” 

“I did!” (I don’t think he remembered. Maybe he did.)

“Thank you!” and I shook his hand. 

Then he stood there. And stood there. He thought I had more to say to him or that I’d ask him for a selfie.  He did not expect that that was all I had to say to him. 

Doc slunk off into the shadows of the art gallery. Sorry, Doc.

Around about 9:30 or so was the dinner.  We were seated and then Paul walked in, giving a couple fistbumps on the way to our table.  There were three tables, each with 10 or less people there, and he’d be seated at the middle for each.  We were first, so we ate Caesar salad and a charcuterie board full of appetizers (salami, cheese, those little stick things, etc.) with Paul.  Paul was catty-corner to me which was insanely intimidating.  He looked me in the eye twice that I was aware of (without saying anything) and I just dove into the salami like a girl that got stood up for senior prom devouring the refreshment table.  My nerves were killing me.  Paul still looked… intimidating. I was riddled with the wounds of past experiences and the knowledge that I could say absolutely nothing to him that he had not heard before.  I couldn’t think. I could only mindlessly eat and wince as Cynthia excitedly kicked me under the table when Paul began to eat himself.  It was pretty funny, because the first couple times she kicked me, I thought that there was something she wanted me to say to Paul, but she just wanted to point out that he was eating!  

I ran out of salami and the waiter refilled my glass of water (I didn’t order any alcohol) about four times while I tried not to pay too much attention to Paul Stanley being that close to me.  That is to say, I was paying attention, but trying not to be a creep.  He was talking to a dark-haired lady sitting next to him and due to how loud it was in the restaurant, I could hear less than half of what he was saying (and only because I was straining) and basically none of what she said (he did say something about Soul Station, but as Cynthia said, we heard entirely different things regarding that particular venture, which says a lot for the amount of noise in the restaurant!).  After a point, he looked over our side of the table with an expression that was a bit “well?” i.e. “you can talk to me” without actually coming out and saying it.  He was pretty well aware that nobody on our side had really said anything to him as he consumed Caesar salad, various cheeses, etc. at our table, and he did want to give everyone the opportunity.  I was, apparently, incapable of taking said opportunity. 

Enter Patrick, who was sitting directly across from me/on the other side of Paul and whom (along with his wife, Nicole, sitting next to him) Cynthia and I had been talking with from the time we got seated on.  He had made small talk with us on the typical topic (KISS) and the two of them had been collecting Paul’s artwork since he started around ‘08 or so– this wasn’t their first rodeo.  Patrick had a loud voice that carried well.  Patrick did something that he really didn’t have to do at all, that I dearly appreciated– after talking briefly to Paul himself, he gave me the floor.

“I think you need to talk to your youngest fan (at the table).”  

Paul looked at me again.  I did not die. 

“I’m not all that young…”

I can’t remember if Paul actually asked me how old I was or not, but I said I was thirty-four.  Paul said “what?” (he didn’t hear me).  I held up my fingers in a 3 and a 4.  Paul did not understand. (I cannot overstate how hard it was to hear in that restaurant.)  Finally, I got my volume up loud enough.  “I’m thirty-four!” 

I want to say he looked surprised, but that might be wishful thinking.  I’m of mixed Asian and white descent and am very short and small.  Anyway, he responded with, “I have shoes older than you.” 

My incredibly brilliant response was “I know. … My mom’s your age so it’s fine.” (What’s fine? His 35+ year old shoes?)  Paul found this witty repartee hard to answer.  Probably because he likely couldn’t hear it.  

Patrick made an additional extremely kind effort just a second later.  I think he must’ve known how much I wanted to say something and how paralyzed/starstruck I had ended up.  It was exceptionally nice– he could’ve monopolized Paul easily, and he chose not to.  He didn’t have to go out of his way like that. 

“She’s been on the Kruises!”

“Oh?”

“Y-yeah I’ve been on the last three (technically four, I did both the back to back Kruises)--” Inspiration. Stupid inspiration. “I was the one that asked you– no, actually I asked Gene– about Dark Shadows.” 

Great, now Mr. Paul Stanley thinks I have an undying fascination with Dark Shadows. Okay, I do, but my life’s goal definitely wasn’t to ask him about that at dinner. 

“I remember that (show).  Barnabus…. It came on in the afternoons. (I think he said he watched it. … So did almost every baby boomer in the mid/late-sixties)”  He actually looked like he might’ve been contemplating the show, but he might’ve actually been contemplating whether the salad he spilt on his lap made a stain on his pants; I don’t really know. 

Patrick is the true hero of this entire story.  If Paul got three points, Patrick gets thirty. Patrick somehow kept introducing the stuff I had just told him to Paul (i.e. my first KISS record was “Rock and Roll Over,” and said something about “Hard Luck Woman”) and I manage to spill several things I am not sure that Paul heard at all (because I could barely hear myself) including (quickly) that I had only gotten my mom to come with me to a KISS show during EOTR, and that when she finally did she’d wished she’d gone to see them sooner. Paul was looking at us, nodding, and was trying to follow the general convo but honestly, if I was only getting a little over half of what Paul said, he was getting a fourth of what I said in general, best case scenario.  I don’t fault him.  Cynthia told him something about Phantom of the Park, but I could barely understand her! 

Probably a couple minutes after that, he went to the next table for the main course (he spent roughly half an hour at our table). He waved as he left and we remained with a surprisingly good vantage spot to see the back of Paul’s head and occasionally his profile.  Also his phone, which he never got out at our table but did get out for the main course’s.  It has a pink case. 

We saw him move to the final table– I think he may not have gotten dessert, but I could be wrong there.  (I had veal parmesan as a main course and split tiramisu with Cynthia. I only had about four bites of the veal due to having eaten every piece of salami on our charcuterie board, but it was pretty good. The tiramisu was also great.)  After that, he left, but he waved as he went and he still looked happy.  That meant a good bit to me.  I gripe about Paul a lot but I do want him to be happy.  I want them all to be happy.  

Cynthia thanked the art gallery director (not sure of his title) prior to us leaving the restaurant and we were told she could pick up her painting tomorrow morning at ten. It was very late at night at that point– not sure when we got back to our hotel, but I do know we were talking until two about everything that had transpired and the whole rest of the weekend was filled with talk of Paul. 

The verdict: Very good event.  Paul was sweet, engaged and definitely wanted to be here.  The only real negative I have is how loud that restaurant was!  It was something else to be that close to him– I had tempered my expectations due to my own cynicism and wariness, but he was great.  Really incredible time that I’m going to remember. 

Paul, if I see you again, I promise not to bother you about Dark Shadows. 

We’ll move on to Bonanza or Match Game or something.

[thebirdandthebee]

Easy As

A Carmen Berzatto Universe

A/N: Another request from the inbox - though I think this has been on everyone’s mind for a while! Let me know your guesses at gender ;)

Vanessa Monaghan is the breath of fresh air that Carmen had been gasping for.

Chapter 28: Sous

It was earlier than they planned – about six months earlier. Vanessa would be walking at her graduation ceremony in three months, and by then, she’d be six months along.

She didn’t care if it was earlier than planned. Frankly she was more impressed than anything – she’d only gotten her IUD taken out a few months ago. Her gynecologist warned it could take six months to a year for her cycle to regulate again and they had been using condoms in the mean time.

She hadn’t even necessarily gotten off of her IUD with the intention of getting pregnant, but to help with cramps that had been getting worse over the last year or so.

But there it was, looking right back at her as she stared down the little Clear Blue test. Pregnant.

It took a few days for it to really sink in – and about six more tests along with a trip to her gyno to confirm.

Sure, they’d been talking about having babies for years, but it was something else entirely to actually be pregnant.

She wanted to tell Carmen in a cute way – not just blurt it out over dinner one night.

But she didn’t know how. She didn’t want it to be tacky, she wanted it to be sweet – maybe use something they could hold onto as the baby got older.

After a week of thinking it through and work-shopping a couple of items on Etsy, she had a solution. Tracking down a vintage baby Levi denim jacket wasn’t easy, but with enough money, anything was possible.  Six days later, she got the jacket back from an artist based in Chicago that had artfully stitched Sous Chef across the top back panel of the jacket. It was perfect, and she cried as she clutched it to her chest after opening the box up on campus.

She couldn’t risk Carmen finding it before it was time.

But the time had finally come. It had been nearly four weeks since she found out and she was bursting at the seams to finally tell him. Nerves shook her hands as she wrapped up the little jacket in plain brown wrapping paper, tying off the box with white ribbon.

She’d text Carmen that she’d pull together dinner that night. He’d been helping Natalie and Pete with the fence in their backyard for a few hours that afternoon and she’d prepared a big cheese board, salads and sandwiches for dinner – something that they ended up eating most nights.

She was just plating up the spring mix as Carmen walked through the door. She figured she’d save the gift for after dinner. She was starving after all, and didn’t think they’d get around to eating after she told him the big news.

“Mrs. Berzatto?” Carmen called out, hearing the tell-tale thunk of his shoe against the back of the entry closet.

“You hungry?” Vanessa called back, cracking open a ginger ale and leaning back against the kitchen counter. “I found the last bit of our jalapeno spread in the deli drawer.”

Carmen’s arms appeared around her waist, hugging her back against him.

In that moment, she realized she couldn’t eat more than half of what she’d plated up for dinner. No deli meat, no soft cheeses, no smoked salmon. She didn’t know all the rules, but she knew some of them. God she couldn’t eat sushi for nearly six more months?

She wondered if he could feel her little bump – did she even have a bump?

Oh my god she was pregnant.

“Starving,” He replied, kissing her neck gently.

“How are Nat and Pete?” She asked, hugging her arms against him.

“Enjoying their newly fixed fence,” Carmen said, rocking her gently back and forth. “Lily and Maxie were out with the babysitter, so didn’t get to see ‘em.”  Vanessa could feel his frown against her skin. Max was Nat and Pete’s rainbow baby after their miscarriage before Lily turned two. At fourteen months, he was a little monster that Carmen was absolutely obsessed with.

“They’re coming over this weekend,” she reminded gently. “Then we can give them the water table.”

“They’re gonna love it,” Carmen’s frown turned upside down.

Vanessa spun in his hold, taking in his beautiful features.

“Come on, handsome, there’s a salad out there calling my name,” she greeted him once again with a soft kiss.

“God I’m starving,” he said, squeezing her sides in his hand. “After dinner maybe we can walk down to Jeni’s for dessert?”

“That sounds like a magnificent idea,” Vanessa agreed. It was another sweltering late summer in Chicago and their air conditioning had been working overtime all week.

They shared dinner at the dining table, Vanessa’s feet in Carmen’s lap as he told her about his day. She’d been studying away for final projects and she could feel the shift in their life coming – a welcome, exciting shift. Maybe Carmen could feel it, too.

“You not hungry?” Carmen asked, noticing she’d barely picked at the cheeseboard and left most of her sandwich on her plate.

“I ate a big, heavy lunch today and for some reason this salad is the only thing calling my name,” she explained way. He didn’t blink twice and happily picked up her sandwich to put on his plate.

“I already know what flavor you’re going to get,” Carmen said as their hands swung between them, looking up at the board of flavors at Jeni’s.

“I think I’m going to change it up this time,” Vanessa replied.

“No gooey butter cake?” He asked. His wife was a severe creature of habit.

“Something about Savannah buttermint is really doing it for me this time,” she said, “will you get me two scoops?” Carmen shrugged, reaching the counter to order and grabbing his own scoop of salted caramel.

The noises Vanessa was making as they trekked back to their apartment were downright unholy.

“Good then?” Carmen asked with a laugh.

“Fuck Carmen, this ice cream is getting me wet,” she replied, only half-joking. Carmen honked out a laugh at her words.

“Wait, let me try,” he insisted, reaching his spoon over.

“Don’t you dare,” she pulled away, twisting her body so he couldn’t reach it.

“Vanessa!” He laughed, “you got two scoops, let me get a little nibble,” he said, only halfway sounding like a petulant child.

“I’m not sharing!” She said, shoveling another big bite into her mouth.

“C’mere,” he lured her in, sealing his mouth over hers in a kiss, getting all the flavor of the Savannah buttermint. “Wow, that is good,” he commented, proud to see he could still make his wife blush.

“Come on, I have a little something for you at home,” she teased out, piquing his interest.

“For me?” He asked, brows raised.

Vanessa finished her treat in the same time as Carmen, dropping their used cups in the garbage before she grabbed her perfectly wrapped package from their bedroom.

“Baby, what did you get me?” He asked, happily taking the box as she settled herself in his lap on the couch.

“I think you’ll like it,” she replied, “I love it,” she added quietly.

Carmen gave her an inquisitive look as he pulled the white ribbon, tearing the brown wrapping paper. Lifting the white tissue paper, he tossed the lid to the ground, revealing the little jacket.

“Ness?” He asked, holding it up in its entirety. It was impossibly small, and he heart lurched at the sight of it. She pushed the box to the ground as he turned it over, revealing the embroidery.

She could see Carmen’s brain stop working all together.

“Nessa?” He asked again, mouth agape and blue eyes wide. “Sous Chef?” He asked mostly to himself. “Ness is this for –“” His brain flipped around the babies they knew, Rosie, Lily, Max – they were all too big for this. “Vanessa are you pregnant?” He finally formed a full thought.

“Check the pocket,” she smiled serenely. Carmen reached in to pull out the infamous blue-capped test.

Pregnant.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked, looking absolutely shocked. “Vanessa please don’t tell me this is a joke,” he all but pleaded.

“It’s not a joke,” excited tears bubbled up to the surface. “I’m pregnant – went to the doctor and everything.”

“Ness – I” Carmen’s face morphed into pure joy, his lashes dark and slick with tears. He wrapped her up in the biggest hug he could, wanting to hold onto this moment forever in case it was another dream. “We’re having a baby,” he breathed in disbelief.

“We’re having a baby,” she laughed, nervous and excited giggles leaving her lips.

“You’re pregnant!” He exclaimed, “holy shit, Ness, it’s happening!” he pushed his hair back, holding his forehead underneath his palm.

“It’s happening!” She agreed.

“When,” he breathed in again, “when?” He implored.

“Valentine’s Day,” she giggled.

“Valentine’s Day?” He gaped, still in pure disbelief.

“Our little valentine,” she repeated, tears now flowing down her cheeks.

“So you’re – you’re almost three months?” He asked.

“Next week I’ll be out of my first trimester,” she replied, “happy birthday.” Carmen would turn thirty-two next week.

Carmen leaned forward, kissing her soundly, his hand sliding up her back to cradle her head in his palms.

“I love you so much,” he shook his head. “We’ve got to build a nursery.”

Vanessa laughed at his thought process, stroking the back of his neck gently.

“We have so much time,” she insisted.

“Ness it’s going to fly by,” he replied. “We can get painters out here next week.”

“And what color are we painting, huh?” She asked with a tilt of her head. “Should we find out?”

Carmen froze. They were either going to have a baby boy or a baby girl and even now, with just two options, it seemed like a universe of possibilities.

“I want to find out,” he said, eyes almost desperate. “I don’t think I can wait till February to know.”

“I want out find out, too,” Vanessa agreed. “It’s been killing me to walk by all the baby boutiques and not buying anything,” Carmen laughed at her honesty.

An hour later, they were laying in bed, Carmen’s head resting gently on Vanessa’s stomach.

“It’s the size of a cherry right now,” Vanessa said, combing her fingers through Carmen’s hair. He was due for a haircut, but she loved it long and shaggy in the summer.

“A cherry,” he repeated, marveling. “A little rainier,” he commented. “I think she’s more like a little maraschino,” Vanessa replied.

“You think it’s a girl?” He asked, hand resting gently below her belly button.

“I have no idea,” she said honestly. “It’s fun to picture it.”

Carmen nuzzled against her, feeling like he was positively floating.

“Thank you,” he said, lifting his head to look Vanessa in the eye.

“Well my love, I really couldn’t do it without you,” Vanessa smiled. “I’m impressed honestly, my gynecologist was impressed, too.” Carmen laughed softly, placing his head back down against the warmth of her body.

“How are we ever supposed to sleep again?” Carmen asked, “I’m too excited to sleep.”

“Baby I think our days of sleep are officially over,” Vanessa admitted.

Carmen began to run through it all in his head. He’d never put anything before his baby. He knew that some adjustments would be on the horizon, because he wouldn’t give up a single minute with his growing family.

[beeeinyourbonnet]

Covetous | Chapter 7

Rating: E

Pairing: Macelle (Father MacAvoy x Belle) or Nostelle (Nosty x Belle), who is to say which

Summary: Father Joseph MacAvoy wakes up in a library across town with no idea of how he got there. When the kind librarian doesn’t kick him out immediately, he considers that maybe there’s more to life than alcohol.

[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5] [chapter 6]

[read on ao3]

tws: alcoholism, homelessness.

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

MacAvoy did not remember the bus being so nauseating. Every time he got off one to switch to another, he had to find a discreet place to vomit, and he regretted leaving all of his booze at the church. The only thing that kept him from going back to get a bottle was the thought that Belle would confiscate it if she found it, and then he’d have nothing.

 His third and final bus pulled up two blocks from the library, and he was so dehydrated and void of all the eggs and toast he’d eaten all weekend, he wasn’t sure he could make it. Vodka was, for once, not what he wanted—water would have been divine.

Nonetheless, he staggered forward. He had to see Belle. She would need counsel, a friend after her weekend. He would be there for her no matter that his stomach felt like a wrung-out sponge. 

His phone told him it was about ten when he stumbled into view of the library. That was good. He didn’t look overeager waiting until ten to get there. Of course, she was the one who told him the route, so she would likely know that he’d left over an hour ago. 

Whatever. She already knew he was pathetic. At least he was arriving sober this time, of his own free will. 

The first thing he saw when he stumbled into the library was the cart full of water, and he lurched for a bottle. 

The second, as he chugged water with more speed than his stomach wanted him to, was Belle’s empty circulation desk. And yet, someone had opened the library, so she probably wasn’t lying murdered in her apartment.

He crossed himself at the thought. If she was, there was nothing he could do—he didn’t know where she lived.

“Joseph!”

He whipped around, spilling water all over his hand, and there she was, resplendent in an olive green dress and carrying a stack of books, all but glowing with happiness. What did that mean?

“Belle! Ah—good morning.”

“Give me just a minute, I need to re-shelve these.” 

He wanted to follow her, but she’d said to give her a minute, so instead he lurched his way to the circulation desk and fished the fiver out of his pocket to drop in her collection jar. Part of him wanted to wait for her to see it so she’d know he wasn’t just taking advantage, but he knew that doing a good deed for recognition would sully it, and he’d done so many awful things over the weekend, he couldn’t add that to the list.

“Good morning!” 

He jumped, almost knocking the jar over, and then Belle had her arms around his shoulders, squeezing. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!” She might as well have floated off, back around the desk. What had put her in such a good mood?

“No problem,” he managed, leaning against the desk. He’d spent all weekend sure she would be broken, sure she would just run to him, her wise and loving confidant, and now he didn’t know what to do.

“Why don’t you bring over a chair and tell me about your weekend? There’s coffee if you want.” She pointed to the carafe near the cart. 

Coffee was a smart idea, so he poured himself a cup, black, and then dragged over a chair. He thought Belle might have been shopping again, but she was reading through her emails. He averted his eyes to preserve her privacy.

“Was the trip difficult?” she asked, typing a quick reply to one.

“No, it was no trouble.” He studied her back, trying to discern anything. Where had Nosty hurt her? He must have. 

“Did you hold mass yesterday?”

He sipped his coffee, narrowing his eyes at the back of her head. “I sat in the pulpit, but no one showed up.” The doors were locked, but she didn’t need to know that. 

She hummed her acknowledgment, clicking through a few more emails, and then she pushed her keyboard back in and spun her chair to face him.

“So!” She clasped her hands in her lap. “What’s your plan?”

“My plan?”

He searched her face for a clue, and as she started on about being glad to have him in the library, he zeroed in on a red mark on her neck. It looked like a bruise, not the bite he was expecting.

“What happened?” he asked, hoarse.

“Hmm?” She frowned. “What do you mean?”

He raised a shaking finger toward her neck, and her eyes widened before she slapped a hand over the mark. Far from looking terrorized like he expected, she flushed all the way to the tips of her ears.

“Oh, that.” Her voice was oddly high-pitched. “I thought I’d covered it better. If you’ll—I’ll be right back.”

She fled to her office, and he sat, stumped. What was she hiding? What had made her so happy? Surely, if Nosty had hurt her, she wouldn’t be wandering around with her head in the clouds? Was he still drunk somehow, despite everything he’d purged from his system on the way here?

Maybe she’d left something on her desk that could clue him in. He didn’t want to snoop, so he vowed not to touch anything. He’d just look around, see what was there.

He was debating how to get around his no touching rule and also open the desk drawer when she came striding back out, no longer flushed and with no more mark on her neck.

“Close call.” She plopped back into her chair, throwing her arms out for balance when it spun. “Can you imagine if a patron had seen that and complained?”

“What?” He was so confused. He had to still be drunk. “I don’t understand. Did you hurt yourself?”

“Oh.” She blushed again, biting her lip. “Nothing, Father—Joseph! It was nothing. Thank you for spotting it.”

Not only did he feel like a failure, he felt stupid. What was he missing? Why was she embarrassed by a bruise? Sure, it was in a strange spot, like someone had given it to her, but—

Oh.

It was his turn to flush, and he turned away before she could see. He didn’t often think about pleasures of the flesh because he’d always been more tempted by drink, sometimes even gambling. There had been times when he’d wanted, but it had been so long. His parishioners, however, had been another story. He’d heard all manner of depraved confessions, even in his little outskirts-of-London parish.

He remembered now a man who’d admitted to wanting his wife to choke him, and MacAvoy’s hand flew to his own neck. Is that what happened? Had Belle been choked? 

He wouldn’t ask her. There were many things he was sure she’d confide in a close friend, but they’d spent all of one day together, and he was sure any other close friend she might have had would not have been a Catholic priest. 

“So,” he wheezed. He cleared his throat. “You had a nice weekend?”

“It was wonderful.” She twisted the ends of her hair around a finger, and he had the fleeting urge to join her, to twine their fingers together so he could have the pleasure of touching her hair as well. 

“Good.” He cleared his throat. “Good, I’m glad.” 

“So, volunteering?”

“What?” Who was volunteering?

“Earlier? I said it would be helpful if you volunteered while you were here? I know last week was kind of slow, but it’s usually quite busy, and I’m always looking for new volunteers.”

He swallowed. It made sense that he couldn’t simply take a bus to the library to sit at Belle’s feet for eight hours a day, five days a week. That would have been insane.

“Of course. I would love to help.” 

It wasn’t a lie, but Belle’s sunny smile made it feel even more true. He smiled hesitantly in return. 

“If you don’t mind starting today, I can teach you how to check books in and out and you can cover for me at lunch?” 

All he really heard was that he would be here while Belle went somewhere else at lunch, but what was he supposed to do? Say no? She’d taken care of him for two days, driven him across town, and welcomed him back even though it was obvious he was hungover. 

“Anything’s fine,” he said, and Belle rewarded him with another smile.

****

After almost two hours, he did not really have the hang of the system. He was not great with computers, and though he practiced on a few older ladies that had come in to return and pick out new books, he wasn’t confident enough to be left alone. 

In the end, they decided he should write down the library card and book information of anyone who came in, and Belle would just log it when she came back.

“Going somewhere fun?” he asked, trying not to stare at her touching up her lipstick.

“Not really. Nosty and I are going to the clinic to get tested.”

She puckered her lips together a few times, then capped her lipstick and stuck it back in her purse. It gave him time to process what she was saying, but he still didn’t understand. Was she pregnant? He wasn’t the most knowledgeable man, but pregnancy usually didn’t show after just a day or two.

“Tested for what?” He probably shouldn’t have asked, but she had mentioned it, so it wasn’t prying too much. 

She glanced sideways at him. “Sorry, I don’t mean to overshare.”

“It’s not oversharing.” Was she pregnant? “It’s my job to listen.”

She licked her freshly colored lips, but even whatever hesitation she had couldn’t stop her from smiling for long. She had to be pregnant.

“You are my closest friend, I guess,” she said. “I’m sorry if that’s odd for you.”

His neck warmed, and for the first time in forever, it wasn’t from guilt or shame. It was a nice feeling, a pleasant warmth. “You’re my closest friend too. You can tell me.”

She pursed her lips again. “We’re going to the clinic to get tested so we can be, ah—safe.”

“Safe?” He frowned. “From what?”

She wiggled her eyebrows, and as understanding crept along the tips of his ears, he wished the library would swallow him. They were getting tested for STDs. Of course. Like safe, consenting adults did. 

His knees shuddered, and he clutched the desk. Did that mean—

“So you haven’t—you didn’t this weekend?” Was he even allowed to ask that? As a priest, probably not. As her closest friend, though?

“No.” A dreamy look crossed her face. He was going to be sick. “We stayed up all night talking.”

He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he was conscious, but she would notice. How could they have done nothing? Maybe she had been drugged? She didn’t remember?

“Joseph? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing, sorry, I—”

She laid a hand on his, and oh god, how could she have figured it out already? He was going to fling himself into the Thames. 

“How much did you drink this weekend?” 

His vice. It had saved him. She thought he was just hungover. He tried to look sheepish which wasn’t hard. 

“More than I should have.” 

Belle squeezed his hand and then, for one horrible split-second, he saw her naked. His stomach clenched.

“I’m sorry, I need to—” He stood, stumbling over his chair in his haste to flee to the bathroom.

“Okay, good luck,” she said, and he tried to laugh. “I’ll wait until you’re out before I go?”

He nodded or maybe he agreed, he couldn’t remember. All he knew was he had never run so fast, but he did make it to a toilet before throwing up.

When he returned ten minutes later, shaky and thirsty, Belle was standing by the door clutching her purse, peering out the window. 

“When’s he supposed to get here?” MacAvoy asked.

“Any minute now.”

There wasn’t enough left inside of him to react to that, so he collapsed in his chair, sipping his water. After that round of vomiting, he was sure the shakes were to follow. 

Belle waited at the window for another ten minutes, then sat at the desk staring out for fifteen, then poured a cup of coffee and ran to bring it to the man sitting outside the convenience store across the road, then stared at the window again.

Her lunch hour came and went, and as much as MacAvoy was glad not to see Nosty, his heart ached watching Belle wait for him. He should have known he wasn’t coming. Belle should have known.

Tentative, he put a hand on her shoulder, and she all but jumped out of her skin. 

“Belle?”

“He’s coming.” Her eyes were wet, but the set of her jaw was determined. 

“Are you sure?”

“He wouldn’t not come.” She pressed a hand to her neck where he knew the mark was, where Nosty must have choked her. “If he’s not here, it’s because something happened.”

“Like what?” 

She shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s dangerous on the streets. Once he came in with a slash across his shoulder and wouldn’t tell me how he got it.” She swallowed. “It’s dangerous.”

In his drunken stupors, he’d met all manner of dangers on the streets, so he coldn’t disagree. “Do you want to try to teach me the computer system again while we wait for him?”

A tear spilled over her cheek and he forced himself not to brush it away, not to use the tip of his finger to caress the soft skin of her cheek. 

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s get some books to practice with.”

****

They practiced all day. Nosty did not show up. Joseph could even check books in and out on his own by the time Belle had to close the library.

She wandered back to her office, the loneliness rooting in her gut again and telling her that nothing had happened to Nosty. He had simply kissed her goodbye outside the library that morning and lied when he said he would see her in a few hours.

But no. He wouldn’t dare. He had held her so tenderly, kept her heart safe within his grasp. He knew leaving would destroy her. Something had happened.

Out of habit—and a little hope—she checked every possible hiding spot in her office and bathroom before locking up, then wandered through all the stacks. Nosty didn’t leap out and grab her, she saw no flash of tartan, no wild tangle of hair. 

As she turned off the lights, tucking her home in for bed, she looked around one last time. Nosty wasn’t there.

She would have to find him.

****

It was supposed to be a chilly night, so while Belle closed the library, MacAvoy took another cup of coffee to her friend across the street, along with a few snacks she recommended for him. 

The man thanked him, and in a moment of what MacAvoy considered genius, he asked him if he’d seen Nosty, but he hadn’t since that morning. That, at least, probably meant that Nosty wasn’t lurking somewhere in the library.

Belle emerged and MacAvoy made his hasty goodbyes, promising to come by for a chat tomorrow.

“You don’t have to drive me,” he said.

“I don’t mind.” She stood on her toes, searching the distance, and then flattened. “Maybe he’ll be waiting for me at home.”

“Then you should go home.”

She smiled then, and he was grateful that she didn’t listen to him because he felt like shit, his muscles were shaking, and he didn’t want to be out of her company for the hours it would take him to reverse engineer her bus instructions.

MacAvoy wasn’t sure that Belle looked anywhere but straight ahead while she drove—he didn’t see her check her mirrors, her blind spots, anything. She stared forward, eyes full.

“Belle,” he said. “You’re gonna hit someone.”

She jumped, blinking some tears down her cheek, and then finally did her usual visual circuit from mirror to mirror. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just worried. Can you do me a favor tonight?”

The devil decided that now, as she asked him for a favor, was the time to remind him of the vision of Belle pressed to the shower wall, Nosty’s gargantuan cock inside her while MacAvoy held his own pitiful member. He clenched his fists.

“Anything.”

“Will you call as many hospitals in your area as you can and see if he’s checked in? I’ll call in my area. And text me if you find him?”

That was not the favor he expected—although he didn’t know what he’d thought—but he hastened to agree. He knew how to use a phone, and there had been a time when he’d made the rounds at hospitals. He might even have contacts at some of them. 

“Thank you.” She reached across and closed her soft, gentle fingers around his fist. He felt it in his cock and wished he could fucking die. “I don’t want to do this alone.”

With a hand somehow both stiff and trembling, he patted hers. “You don’t have to do anything alone, Belle. I’m here.”

He was here with his impure urges and visions sent straight from the devil himself, but by God was MacAvoy going to call those hospitals for her. 

****

It wasn’t until the fourth hospital he called that MacAvoy finally got somewhere. Thank God, because he refused to drink a sip until he’d finished his task, which also meant that he couldn’t force down any food, and his whole body rebelled. He needed the dopamine of a success.

“Nosty?” the man on the phone asked. “And who’s calling?”

“Father MacAvoy,” he half-wheezed. “From St. Joseph’s. I’m his chaplain.”

“Sorry, Father. We haven’t seen him in a couple months. If you’re looking for him, he’s probably locked up or dead.”

MacAvoy closed his eyes. Belle would not want to hear this. 

“Thank you. Can I ask—do you see him often?”

“Fairly. He’s had a bit of a dry spell recently.” 

So that meant that wherever Nosty spent time, it was likely near this hospital. He thanked the man for his time and hung up. Belle had said to text her, but this was news that he felt was probably better delivered spoken. Texts were for concrete information and hospital addresses. 

Promising himself a drink as soon as this was over, he dialed Belle’s number.

****

All of Nosty’s new clothes were folded neatly on the spare bed, just where they’d left them. None of her books were missing. There wasn’t even any food or water missing.

Belle was torn between a desire to cocoon herself in the bird blanket and think about Nosty’s strong arms and to move, move, move. The blanket wouldn’t help find him, though, so she made herself a cup of tea and set her laptop up at the kitchen table. 

The closest hospitals to her flat and the library didn’t know him at all. She considered pouring a glass of wine, but what if she found him and needed to pick him up? Better to stay sober.

Her phone rang and she snatched it up, praying for an unknown number and Nosty’s voice. It was only Joseph, but maybe he had good news?

“Did you find anything?” she asked instead of hello.

“Maybe.” 

Her heart sank deep into the expanding loneliness in her gut. Soon, it would blossom and overtake her, and she’d be nothing but a husk. 

“What?”

“I found what I think is the hospital he usually goes to.” 

Belle took a sip of tea. The hospital he usually goes to. Usually goes to for what? Did he have a terminal illness? 

“What do you mean?”

“I spoke to a man who said they used to see him fairly often but haven’t for a few months.”

What did that mean? Why was he there so often? She rubbed her forehead. If only Nosty had left some sort of clue or ever allowed her to know anything personal—she’d be able to find him then. 

“Did he say anything else?”

Joseph made a noise like he was reconsidering talking, and Belle straightened.

“What? What did he say?”

“Belle, maybe this isn’t—”

“Joseph, what did he say?”

The only sound for several seconds was Belle’s hammering heart. Then, “He said if I can’t find him, he’s probably locked up or dead.”

Belle set her mug on the table, a great feat of restraint considering she wanted to hurl it against the wall. Nosty couldn’t be dead. She would know. She didn’t know how, but somehow, she would know.

“Belle?”

That meant that Nosty was locked up again. He was probably miserable. She had to find him.

“Belle?”

“Sorry.” She stared at the map on her computer. How many police stations were there? How many would she have to call? Would they even listen to her?

“Are you okay? What are you doing?”

She shook her head, the map lines swimming in front of her. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“Come to the church.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Belle, it’s not haunted, I promise.”

“What if he comes here?”

Joseph was quiet. A sob escaped, ripped from her chest, and she pressed a hand over her mouth. 

“Do you want me to come there?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” she said, even though she had intended to say no. 

“Okay. There’s just—I’m sorry, but—”

“You have to drink.” She didn’t care. How was she supposed to keep Joseph from self-destructing when she was crumbling from the inside? 

“I do.”

“It’s fine. Get in a taxi. I’ll pay.”

“Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

They hung up and Belle stared at the map again. She could hardly remember what she needed to do. She wouldn’t be alone anymore at least. Nosty would have to accept Joseph once they found him and he realized how integral he’d been in helping her. Is this what having real friends was like? Heartache and support in equal measure? She’d take it over the loneliness.

****

MacAvoy felt disgusting as he gulped from his handle of gin then stuck it in his jacket pocket before heading outside. How could he bring his vile crutch when Belle was paying for his taxi?

But he’d be no use to her sober, that much was certain. If he wanted to help Belle, he’d have to give her a glimpse of his world.

The drive took half an eternity, but Belle stood on the sidewalk, waiting for him as promised. She swiped her credit card and then she was in his shaking arms, sobbing.

“Come on.” He patted her on the back, feeling each sob deep in his chest—and only his chest, thank God. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

She led him up to a small two-bedroom whose decor style could be boiled down to, unsurprisingly, books everywhere. He hid his smile, not wanting her to think that he enjoyed any part of what was going on.

“So I’ve broken the city down by area,” she said. “And I’ve been making a list of all the precincts to call.”

“Have you eaten?” he asked. 

She licked her lips. “No, not yet.” Oh, how the tables had turned.

“Come on.” He spied her laptop and a mug on the kitchen table, so he put a hand between her shoulders and guided her there. “You’ll be of no use to Nosty if you faint. Do you need another cup of tea?”

She allowed him to push her into her chair, then she looked into her mug and nodded. “It’s gone cold. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” An electric kettle sat by the sink, so he filled it again and set it to heat. While his back was to her, he nipped from his gin bottle. 

The chair scraped and he whirled to see why, but Belle was just taking a box of tea and another mug from the cupboard and bringing them to the table.

When the water boiled, he managed to pour it into both mugs without spilling, and then while Belle added a squeeze of lemon to her tea, he tipped a shot of gin into his. 

“All right,” he said, unsure of where the authority in his voice came from. He hadn’t sounded like that in years. “Let’s see about dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” she said. Somehow, the look he turned on her was strong enough to make her blush. Maybe she’d taught him a thing or two. “Fine. Let’s get a pizza. Here.” She fished her card out of her sweater pocket and handed it to him. “Get whatever you want.”

At this point, all he wanted was Nosty to appear or for Belle to eat. He didn’t have a thought to spare for pizza.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll figure something out.”

She nodded, and when she turned back to her computer, he saw that she’d made a spreadsheet of information.

This was going to be a long night.

[chapter 8]

[liaromancewriter]

New York Moment

Premise: Max and Sienna get cast as extras on a movie set, and funny antics soon follow.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Sienna Trinh x Max Valentine (M!OC) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,425

A/N: This fic was requested by @trappedinfanfiction from @creativepromptsforwriting Meet Cute list (prompt 15). Tagging for reblog to @creativepromptfills. I'm using @choicesflashfics week 29, prompt 3 (in bold). Submission for @aprilchallenge prompt "dance"

The streets of Manhattan were teeming under the steaming summer sunshine. Native New Yorkers walked determinedly about their business, and tourists ambled on sidewalks, smartphones in hand, ready to capture their New York moment.

Cars honked, buses wheezed, and people yelled. It was noisy and exciting, annoying and fascinating. It was New York.

Sienna Valentine watched the drama unfold from the relative peace of a shaded sidewalk patio in Greenwich Village, and thought, “I’ve missed this.”

She’d attended medical school at Columbia, and this city had been home for four years. She had so many memories here. Studying in Central Park on a warm spring day. Taking the A Train downtown for a night out with her friends. Ice skating at Rockefeller Center.   

Sienna had enjoyed her life in Boston and loved living in DC now. But whenever her husband Max needed to visit New York for work or family, she tagged along if her work schedule allowed.

Luckily for Sienna, Max had no issues making non-work trips either. An overnight trip to watch a Broadway show, a quick day trip to go shopping in Midtown or a romantic weekend getaway.

Life with Max was never dull, Sienna thought dreamily, looking away from the view outside to watch him walking toward her.

“Sorry about that. The guy just wouldn’t stop talking,” Max said, sliding into the chair across from her. He started to reach for his wine glass but suddenly stopped. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to drag me to the nearest restroom and have your wicked way with me,” he grinned lasciviously.

“I’d rather wait until we get back to our hotel,” she countered with a wink and a smile. “And then I’ll have my wicked way with you. So you might want to load up on carbs.”

“Good plan,” he chuckled. “Check, please!”

Sienna burst into laughter. Definitely not boring, she thought again.

They finished their lunch, talking and just enjoying each other’s company, lingering over their wine. While Max settled the bill, Sienna quickly called their nanny.

“Noah okay?” Max asked, clasping her hand in his as they left the restaurant.

“Yes. Mrs. Banks said he was still asleep and to take our time.”

They started walking east toward Washington Square Park for an open-air concert, passing leafy residential streets lined with brownstones and avoiding the crowds on Bleeker Street by cutting through Cornelia Street.

They were two blocks from the park when they saw steel barricades and a clump of trailers and trucks lined up along one street. Security guards held back crowds as a film crew set up for a shoot outside the park; light stands, cameras and film equipment were everywhere.

“Now what?” Sienna said, disappointed at having their afternoon plans disrupted. It would take time to go around the barricades and crowds.

She turned toward Max, but he was standing a few feet away, reading an information notice taped to the side of a tree trunk.

“Hey, Si? Wanna be an extra in a Hollywood movie?”

When Sienna glanced at him in confusion, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to his side, pointing at the sign.

Intrigued, Sienna read the words block printed on bright yellow paper. “Extras wanted. Couples only. Report to Production Office.”

“Well?” Max smiled, a hint of adventure in his eyes. “It can be our New York Moment.”

“I thought our New York Moment was that extravagant proposal on The Highline?”

“Who says you can only have one?” he challenged, arching his eyebrow.

Intrigued by the idea, Sienna found herself nodding, her apprehension about being on camera carried away by Max’s enthusiasm.

They were outside the production office a short while later, standing in a queue with other couples. A production assistant collected their details and directed them to a trailer for a wardrobe check. That done, they joined the others in a closed-off waiting area near a fountain.

“What kind of movie do you think this is?” Sienna said, craning to see if she could spot any stars.

“Definitely not a porno, given the location,” Max teased, his lips quirked in a half-smile. “I was really looking forward to seeing you in a leather catsuit.”

Sienna snorted. “I don’t have time for your prurient fantasies, Valentine.”

“You say fantasy, I say, meet me at midnight.”

Max took her hand and twirled her into an impromptu dance, their hips swaying to the jaunty tune drifting from a street musician behind the barricade. He tightened his grip on her hand; his other hand splayed across her lower back.

Well used to their rhythm, Sienna readied herself for the backward dip, confident he wouldn’t let her fall. Suddenly, Max tugged at her, and she tripped over her feet, falling against him.

Sienna giggled at her clumsiness, but his smug look and hands cupping her ass made her think it was on purpose.

She locked her hands behind his neck and leaned in, kissing the open space at the base of his throat where he'd left the buttons of his shirt collar undone. She felt his breath hitch before he pulled back slightly. But she wasn’t done.

Sienna stretched on her toes and drew his head down to place her lips against his ear.

“Are you trying to seduce me in public?” she whispered.

He chuckled. “What a thing to say? I’m just rehearsing. For all you know, my character is a suave international spy trying to throw the assassins off his scent by dancing with a beautiful stranger in the park.”

She scoffed. “We’ve both seen that movie, and it usually ends with the spy seducing the woman before jumping out the window.”

“Maybe in this movie, the beautiful woman is the seductress,” he said, amused. “And hopefully she has handcuffs so the spy can’t escape her bed.”

He said the last in such a deadpan manner that Sienna burst into laughter. She laughed so hard she had to wrap her arms around her stomach and gasp for air.

The production assistant walked over, still talking into a headset, clipboard in hand.

“All right, folks. Thanks for your patience,” he said hurriedly. “The AD’s just finishing setting up the shot, and then we’ll escort you to the set. Just some house rules….”

Sienna tried to school her face to pretend interest and attention. It didn’t help that Max moved behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and leaned down to speak in her ear, cracking jokes.

“Don’t feed the pigeons? Why would we do that?” Max murmured, deliberately twisting the production assistant’s words about not disturbing the actors.

Sienna covered her mouth with one hand so people couldn’t see her laughing, but there was no hiding the tears spiking her eyelashes.

“Wait? I thought this was a family feature. Why would we be dancing naked in the square with a clown?”

Sienna guffawed, and the production assistant stopped to stare at her. Embarrassed, she pretended to cough and waved a hand in apology. The man continued his instructions, squinting suspiciously at her.

She could feel Max’s body shaking in mirth behind her. As soon as the coast was clear, Sienna slapped the arm around her waist and hissed in annoyance.

“Are you trying to get us kicked off the movie? And you know he didn’t say anything about naked dancing. The extras are supposed to be couples dancing in the park to a summer concert.”

She shivered as Max kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear.

“Tomayto, tomahto,” he said, voice smug. “Want to go back to our hotel for naked dancing?”

Before Sienna could tell him to behave himself, the production assistant announced it was time to head out.

They took their places on discretely placed x-marked spots on the floor. After listening attentively to the director’s instructions, they turned to face each other.

The more it dragged on, the technicians adjusting lighting and whatnot around her, the more nervous Sienna became.

Max placed her hand on his shoulder and put his arm at her waist, ready to swing her into an impromptu dance on a beautiful sunny day. The setup was so similar to what they’d been doing in the waiting area earlier that Sienna’s nerves vanished.

“It’s a good thing we rehearsed earlier,” Max said, a winsome smile hovering on his lips, reading her thoughts perfectly.

Sienna kissed his jaw. “Don’t worry. If you mess up, we can keep practicing back in our hotel. Clothing optional. One more New York Moment.”

“And cut!”

Bonus

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

All Fics & Edits: @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @takemyopenheart @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Max & Sienna only: @aallotarenunelma @storyofmychoices @kyra75

[lcs-library]

ello i see reqs are open 👀 may i have a banrisa with christmas theme 10 (the lights one) pretty please? 🙏🏻 if you'd like help narrowing down ideas, maybe they're in isa's apartment and one of them got tangled up in the lights or smth JSHDJD they were being silly goofy ;9 thanks friend!! 🙏🏻🫶🏼

SORRY THIS IS KINDA LATE…… Ofc bestie!!! It’s short but sweet, so I hope you like it<3

“You’re sure this ain’t too much?” Banri asked, hauling a large box across Isa’s apartment. “I mean, your tree’s kinda small, I don’t think this many ornaments will fit.”

“It’ll be fine, Banri-kun, I promise!” Isa replied, fanning out the branches of her, admittedly tiny, Christmas tree, only standing at about three-quarters of her height. She stood back, framing it with her hands, making sure it was at just the perfect angle.

It was no secret that Isa liked the holiday, despite all that had happened surrounding it. The fun decorations, the tasty food, and the time with loved ones was something she enjoyed greatly, and this year, there was another reason to love it. This was the second year in a row she’d be spending with Banri, and it was always a treat for her to have him all to herself after his troupe’s show had closed for the season, even if she knew it was a little selfish.

Once Isa was sure she was happy with the tree, she turned to Banri.

“What do you think? Should we move it any more?” She asked him eagerly.

“Looks good,” he replied, bringing her into a back hug. “Of course, anything you do ‘s good.”

“You’re sure?”

“Always,” he affirmed with a smirk, planting a quick kiss to her forehead. “Is there anything else I can help ya out with?”

“Yeah, actually! Do you mind helping with the lights on the tree? They should be in the box next to the couch.”

“Of course, I’m down.”

With ease, he quickly found the box she was talking about, opening it to be met with the second-worst thing for his Easy Mode buff. Tangled cords.

This is fine, Banri. You’ve done this with earbuds, remember? Just play it cool, I’m sure she won’t notice.

He took the crumpled mess out of its prison, setting it beside him as he sat on the floor. He’d be fine so long as Isa wasn’t watching, which, as of right now, didn’t seem to be the case, as she was busy sifting through the rest of the holiday decorations she had bought on their shopping trip last weekend. He was safe.

After managing to find the plug, he slowly attempted to release it from the one crossing over it. Then the next. This was shaping up to be easy.

Wait, why was it crossing over again? He just undid it! He groaned, tossing that piece of the wire behind him. He’d deal with it later. For now, he’d worry about the task in front of him.

Ah, screw it, this one was hard too. Behind him it goes.

Then the next. Why were they all such a struggle? This one’s getting tossed, too.

Before he realized, Banri was covered from head to toe in strings of lights, somehow more tangled than they were previously. God, he probably looked so stupid right now, but he would have to ask for at least a little help.

“Uh… Isa-chan?”

She turned to the sound of his voice, only to burst into a fit of giggles.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he said with a sigh, “can you just help me out here?”

“Just one sec, okay?”

“What, why?”

In an instant, Isa’s phone was out as she circled him, taking way too many pictures for Banri’s taste. With every one of her coos at his “grumpy kitty energy,” she called it, he grumbled, complaining more and more each time. Isa patted his head, giving his hair a quick ruffle in a rare role reversal.

“Alright, I’m done. Let’s get you out of here, okay?” She said with a soft smile.

She poked and prodded at the lights, pulling strings here and setting some there, doing her best to untangle him. Unfortunately, she was met with a struggle of her own.

“Banri-kun?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m stuck.”

“You’re what.”

“I guess we’ll have to both be tangled now, huh?”

“ISA HOW THE HELL-“

The end<3

[middleearthpixie]

Wanted Man ~ Chapter Twenty-One

Summary: A price on his head, Loki of Asgard finds himself stranded on Earth and in need of one woman's help in order to free himself from the bounty and try to reclaim what he sees as his rightful throne in Asgard.

McKenna Carlin just wanted to put a horrible day behind her. She had no idea that things would get worse before they get better…

Pairings:  Loki Laufeyson x ofc McKenna Carlin

Characters:McKenna, Loki, Thor, Shannon, Tony, Agent Phil Coulson

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 5.1k

Tag List: @fizzyxcustard @court-jobi @guardianofrivendell @piggledy-higgledy @evenstaredits

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here! 

For McKenna, adjusting to life returning back to normal took some doing. Sleeping became a rarer and rarer occurrence, as she often found herself wide awake at three in the morning, staring up at the ceiling, Cinder curled in a ball beside her.

And there were times when she thought she was going crazy. She’d swear she saw Loki from the corner of her eye, only to find that when she whipped around, he was never there. 

The nights were the worst. Not only was she not sleeping well, but when she did manage to doze off, she would dream of Loki and when she woke, her pillow would be wet with tears she hadn’t realized she shed and her head would ache and she’d lie awake until the sun streamed in through her windows.

“Where are you?” Scott asked one Friday night, about two months after her return, when she inadvertently poured peppermint schnapps instead of apple schnapps into what was supposed to be an apple martini.

“I’m sorry, Scott. I just… I don’t know. I’m not feeling so well.”

“Well then go home. I can’t afford to have you ruining any more drinks.”

“I know… I just…” Her throat squeezed shut and her eyes filled with tears. Damn it, she cried so easily now, and all the time. Why, just last night, she burst out bawling over some stupid commercial about back to school shopping.

“Look, I get it, Kenna,” Scott’s hands cupped her shoulders and he bent to meet her eye level. “Shay told me about the boyfriend. It sucks, but you have to let it go. He’s in jail and you can do a lot better than some guy in jail, right? Maybe it’s time to cut your losses and move on.”

Move on. In theory, perhaps, but in reality, it was not quite that simple. She absently ran her thumb along the band of the diamond ring still on her hand. “That’s much easier said than done, Scott.” She drew in a shaky breath and reached up to rub her forehead. “I’ll be all right.”

“You know, why don't you go home? Take a few days because I need you come Friday. Labor Day weekend? We’re gonna be packed.”

“Well, I’ve already missed—”

He waved off her protest. “I know. And maybe I’m going soft in my old age, but go home and get yourself sorted out, Kenna. Take a couple days and hopefully it’ll help.”

She nodded and dumped the ruined appletini and grabbed her purse from under the bar. Then, she pulled out a ten dollar bill and handed it to Scott. “For the drink.”

He waved it away, but she tossed it onto the bar and made her way around it to leave. Shannon stopped her just short of the door. “Go home and get some rest, Kenna. You look kinda green.”

“I know. I am and I’ll call you in the morning.” She kissed Shannon’s cheek and stepped out into a godawful, hot, steamy August night. 

Her car was parked down the street from a CVS and after a quick peek over her shoulder to make sure Shannon didn’t follow her, she ducked into it. It only took her a few minutes to find what she wanted and paid for it, and then hurried back to her car.

Cinder did his best to trip her as she came into the apartment, yowling for food. “Okay, okay,” she said, tossing her purse and bag on the counter and hurryied into the kitchen before the cat attacked her.

He dove into his food, his yowl becoming a contented purr, and she crouched to scratch him behind the ears before stretching across the counter to grab her phone and the bag.

She locked the bathroom door, although she didn’t know why, and her hands shook as she opened the box. It took three tries before she got the instructions unfolded, and on the third try, she ripped it along a fold. 

Five minutes later she was staring down at the counter, her stomach threatening to reverse itself even as a sense of budding excitement swelled through her.

The word was so small, but still unmistakable, all in capital letters spelling out one word:

PREGNANT

She didn’t know how long she sat there staring at that stupid little stick. The box came with a second one, so she took it as well. Now she had two sticks with the same tiny little word on it.

“Holy shit…” she breathed, rubbing her forehead with one hand. How the hell was she supposed to let Loki know he was going to be a father? Somehow, she didn’t think S.H.I.E.L.D. still had their little shop at the boardwalk up and running.

But, she did have Coulson’s number, or at least she hoped it was still his number. The crumpled business card was long gone, but she kept his number. Just in case. 

Her legs wobbled as she went back out to the kitchen and dug her phone from her purse, found Coulson’s number and hit send, her hands shaking the entire time.

“Agent Coulson.”

“Agent Coulson, it’s McKenna Carlin. I need to get a message to Thor. Can you do that for me?”

“Miss Carlin, I’m not an Asgardian answering service.”

“This is very, very important. Please.” She switched the phone to her other ear. “And I don’t mean like I have a hangnail important, but really, really important.”

“Is everything all right, Miss Carlin?”

“No. No, it isn’t and I need to see Thor. Soon.”

“Okay, Miss Carlin. I’ll do my best.”

“Do you have my number?”

“We do.” He clicked off and she dropped the phone as the enormity of those two sticks lounging on the bathroom counter hit her like a ton of bricks. 

But at the same time, perhaps this was what could change Odin's mind about keeping Loki in the dungeon? 

Or would she and the baby be in danger now instead?

She walked back into the living room, where she promptly began pacing, since her nerves would not let her be still. Thor would have a better grasp on what Odin's reaction might be, should he learn about the baby. Now all she had to do was wait. And that was the worst part.

But she didn’t have to wait long. Not more than half an hour after her phone call to Coulson, there came a knock at her door. Damn… that little man worked fast. 

She opened it to find Thor standing in the hallway, his red cape dusty and Mjölnir in his hand. She almost laughed at the absurdity of the scene, especially when he came inside and hung the hammer on the doorknob.

“Son of Coul said you needed to speak with me? What is it?”

“I really don’t think I should tell you first, but I need you get a message to Loki. Or better yet, if you could maybe sneak me in to see him? I need to talk to him and it’s very important.” 

He arched one golden brow. “I cannot smuggle you into the prison. How would I? Never mind if something happened and someone got out.”

“Then you need to find some way for me to talk to him. Please. I cannot even tell you how much I need to see him.”

Thor pulled back before she could touch him and shook his head. “It is out of my hands, Miss Carlin. I cannot—”

“Please! You must—” Her voice broke and hot tears stung her eyes. She tilted her head back, squeezing her eyes shut to try to hold them back. How could she make Thor see how important it was without actually telling him? “You don't get it and I know that, but I have to talk to him. It really is that important. Really. I promise you, it is.”

“So, why not just tell me then?”

Her head snapped up at the low, familiar pull of Loki's voice and her tears became those of joy as she snapped her head back to see Thor vanish in a veil of green mist and to find staring into Loki's beautiful blue eyes. “Ohhh… oh… God…” she stammered, her hand clapping over her mouth. “What… how…?”

“What did you have to tell me, love? Or can it wait a moment?” A slow smile pulled at his lips as he caught her by the hands.

At his first touch, she all but fell into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing with everything she had. “Oh my God… how is this even possible? Please, please tell me this isn’t a dream.”

“It’s no dream,” he whispered, lifting her up to meet his eyes. “And I will explain everything—”

She cut him off with a kiss that let loose every single emotion she’d experienced since seeing him dragged off in chains. His arms tightened about her as his lips parted and as her tongue met his, he groaned in the back of his throat.

He staggered back, thudding dully against the door, but never loosened his hold on her any more than she loosened hers on him. She slid her fingers into the cool length of his dark hair, tears sliding over her cheeks as she broke the kiss with a laugh that came out of nowhere and just hugged him. 

“I know it’s been a while, love,” he chuckled, his lips against her ear. “But I am fairly certain you aren’t supposed to be laughing at my kisses.”

“It was my kiss and I’m laughing because I can’t believe you’re here. How the hell did Coulson do this?”

“Son of Coul?” Loki pulled back with a puzzled look. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“I just talked to him a little while ago. Didn’t… I asked him to get word to Thor that I needed to see him. Or you.” She caught his face between her hands, just wanting to look at him. He was a bit thinner than the last time she saw him, and he looked tired, but other than that, he was every bit the handsome god she loved so much. Her eyes teared up again and she shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“Believe it, love. I’m here and I’m not leaving.” Holding her easily in one arm, he smoothed her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek. “I’ve missed you, McKenna. More than you could ever possibly know.”

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea, Loki.” 

He smiled and kissed her again. This time, his kiss was hungry, and he scorched her with the passion behind it. He pushed away from the door and shifted to scoop her into his arms. Cinder meowed and between kisses, Loki whispered, “Not now, cat,” as he carried McKenna down the narrow hallway to her bedroom.

Loki gently pressed her down into her bed, covering her body with his. His lips moved gently along the curve of her neck, down over her collarbone, while he slid one hand beneath her black Scott’s Tavern tee shirt. His fingers were cool as they swept along her ribs, slid beneath her to run up along her. She shivered at the touch, so light and gentle, and yet powerful enough that she bit down hard on her bottom lip. 

His fingers just grazed the lower curve of her left breast and then he moved down, his kisses soft on her ribs, and a breathless laugh bubbled to her lips as he swept a kiss down the center of her stomach. Without thinking, she reached down, slid her fingers into his dark hair and her eyes remained on him as he spread those teasing kisses over and down, stopping at the waistband of her jeans.

He lifted his head to gaze at her with passion-smoked blue-green eyes. “I have never had the pleasure of undressing you, my love,” he murmured, hooking one finger over the button of her jeans. “And I shall rectify that at once.”

She smiled as he pressed a hot kiss into her lower belly. He shifted, brushing the tip of his tongue along her left hipbone as he slid the button through its hole. The zipper slid down, and he folded back the two sides, his breath warm against her skin as he murmured, “I do so love the lacy bits you wear,” in a husky voice.

She held her breath as he rose to tug the Levis from her hips. The velvety denim was like a caress as he slid it her legs, and she bit down on her bottom lip as he just let his gaze wander over her and a sinful smile curved his lips. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered, letting his fingers sweep gently up over her shins, over her knees, along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She sighed at the tingles rushing through her with each touch, at the way his eyes seemed to darken from blue to green as they moved along her.

He eased a finger beneath the scalloped lace edge of her thong and she sucked in a sharp breath. Then, he bent forward and there was nothing cold about his lips as they teased her left inner thigh. His tongue caressed the crease of her hip and thigh and her fingers twisted in his hair.

She realized how tightly she held the thick lock of black hair she held, and she released it immediately, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

Loki shook his head. “Don’t apologize,” he said as he hooked his forefinger in that delicate black lace to gently tug. “You didn’t hurt me, you know. Actually, I rather like knowing how strongly you react to my touch.”

“Loki, you have no idea.”

He tugged the lace from her hips and his smile turned feral. “Much as I like the lacy bits, I far prefer you like this, love.”

She shivered—a full body shiver as he dipped back down and at the first sensual stroke of his tongue against her most sensitive flesh, she didn’t care how hard she grabbed him. He left her breathless and on fire, her fingers twisting against in his hair to press him harder into her. Her hips rose to meet him, his name rose to her lips and her back bowed sharply as he pushed her over the edge.

“Loki!”

He held her there, suspended in time, her entire body humming with pleasure, and then, when she thought she’d go mad from it all, he gently brought her back to earth. She was breathless and fighting for air, tugging him to bring him up so she could wrap herself around him.

He obliged, but slowly, kissing his way up, just as he kissed his way down. He was leisurely and teasing, no matter how she pulled at his hair and, when that didn’t work, gripped the shoulders of his green and gold leather tunic. Tunic? Damn it, she had to get him out of his clothes and now!

He knelt between her knees and caught her hips with both hands, his thumbs pressing into her, and pushed her shirt over her ribs, and she bit back a breathless sigh at the cool brush of his lips against her skin. The tip of his tongue swept out against her, and then came the gentle nip, followed by a soft kiss.

This was his pattern as he moved upward, the soft tee shirt skimming over her breasts. She gave up tugging on him. There was no point. He was in no hurry and honestly? She didn’t care, it was far better to just lie back and enjoy those delicious sensations as they rippled through her, to savor them as they swelled and build off one another to create a fiery desire she hadn’t felt in a very long time. She wanted him with a fury that bordered on the maniacal, but if he was in no hurry, why on earth should she rush him? 

“Loki…”

“Mmmm?” he murmured, his lips teasing the right side of her ribs. 

“Oh, that feels so nice…”

He came up to whisk her tee shirt over her head. “More lacy bits,” he whispered, tracing the lacy edge of her left bra cup. “I am a fortunate man, indeed.”

“I hate to disappoint you,” she whispered back, “but pretty much all women wear bras.”

“But I doubt any of them look as ravishing as you, love,” he replied, his finger slipping beneath the bra cup to brush her breast. Her eyelids grew heavy as he inched further beneath it, easing her breast from it entirely.

He kneaded her breast gently, his thumb brushing her nipple, and when he bent to kiss her, she wrapped her arms about his neck. The air rushed from her as he rolled to pull her atop him. A moment later, he had her bra unhooked, his voice heavy with seductive triumph as he murmured, “On the first attempt, no less.”

“Very smooth. Now, how do I get you out of this?” she breathed into his ear as she tugged at the front of his tunic. “Because it definitely needs to go.”

He pulled away to grin wolfishly at her. “But I’m not finished with you yet.”

“Loki.” She tried to scowl at him, but couldn’t quite manage it. “I’ve missed you just as much, you know.”

He rocked back. “It would take me far too long to allow you to undress me, McKenna. But, I promise you, when I’m in your Midgardian clothes, you may indulge in undressing me as slowly as you wish.”

With that, he twitched his fingers and her jaw almost dropped as his clothes simply disappeared. She reached down to let her fingers slide down over his chiseled, smooth belly. His skin was so cool to the touch, the muscles like slabs of marble beneath it. 

She bent to brush a kiss over his chest. Then another. And another still as she inched her way down. His hands came to rest on her back, his fingers stroking her gently as he whispered, “Oh, love… what you do to me. You bring the most wicked of thoughts to my mind.”

“Do I?” She moved over the ridge of his hip. “Then I’m doing something right.”

“Oh, Midgardian,” the air rushed from him as she moved and his voice grew throatier as he added, “you most definitely are.”

She smiled as she continued teasing him, using his sighs and groans as an indicator of how he enjoyed her attentions. Then, he caught her, tugging her back up into his arms. His lips seized hers, hot and hungry, and he flipped her onto her back, then surged up between her thighs to fill her with one sensually long stroke.

Her back bowed with his first powerful thrust and that was all it took. She melted around him, legs about his waist, arms about his neck, fingernails sinking deep into his back. She met his rhythm, his name a breathless cry on her lips as he surged hard inside her. 

He drew back just enough to capture her lips in a long, deep kiss. She clung to him as he thrust faster and when they went over that glorious summit, Loki broke that kiss to growl, “McKenna!”

He sank against her, his body trembling and as she slid her arms about him, she whispered, “Oh, Loki… Oh, God…that… oh, that was amazing…”

He nodded, still fighting for his breath, which came across her skin as short, hard blasts.  His head came to rest on her breast, which he kissed gently and murmured, “I do so love you.”

She smiled up at into the darkness, tears stinging her eyes. But for the first time in two months, they were happy tears and they slid back into her hair as she brokenly whispered, “I love you, too.”

He lifted his head, his eyes tender as he murmured, “Are you crying, Midgardian?”

“Tears of happiness this time, I promise,” she replied, reaching up to stroke his hair away from his face. “I thought I was never going to see you again.”

“I wouldn’t allow that.”

“You didn’t have much of a choice.”

“True. But I was not about to let a little thing like a dungeon prevent it, either. Not even Odin’s prison could keep me from you in the end.” He kissed her forehead. “And now I am here and we have much lost time to make up for. Tell me, how much hot water does your shower offer?”

She smiled. “Not nearly as much as the Winchester, I’m afraid.”

“We’ll make do.” 

As he settled back against her, his head cradled by her breast, she drew her fingers along the black sheen of his hair. Her thoughts whirled with the magnitude of what she had to tell him, but the words were a jumble in her mind. 

She took a deep breath. “Loki?”

“Yes, love?” he murmured, not lifting his head.

“There’s something we need to talk about. Now that you’re here and all.”

“Is something wrong?” His voice held a hint of suspicion.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Do you like children?”

Now he lifted his head. “I beg your pardon?”

“I asked if you like children.”

“I don’t know any, but I don’t think I’d dislike them.” His eyes glittered in the glow of the bathroom nightlight. “Why?”

“Well, that’s kind of why I needed Thor to come here.” She curved her hand against his cool, smooth cheek. “You’re going to be a father.”

Confusion clouded his eyes. “What?”

She nodded. “I’m going to have a baby, Loki.” She traced her fingertip along his bottom lip. “We’re going to have a baby.”

“You mean to say that you… and I… A child, McKenna?” He waited for her to nod, and then he hurriedly slid off her to stretch out beside her. “How—when—you—”

She laughed as his eyes cleared of all confusion and filled with something that looked very much like wonder. He slid his hand over her hip, letting it come to rest between both hipbones. “Are you certain?”

“I’m positive, Loki. I was late, so I bought a pregnancy test. Two, actually. And both came back positive.” She covered her hand with his. “They’re still in the bathroom, if you want to see them for yourself.”

He shook his head, his gaze going to his hand on her belly, whispering, “A child,” in a disbelief-laden voice.

Her stomach fluttered as the next words came to her lips. “How do you feel about that, Loki? I know it has to be a bit of a shock, but—”

“How do I feel about it?” He turned to look at her, but his expression was unreadable. “It’s the last thing I expected you to say, to be honest.”

Her heart sank and a hint of nausea rose in the back of her throat. “I know. It was a surprise to me as well.”

“But, as to how I feel about it—” To her surprise, he lifted their hands from her belly, and bent to press a gentle kiss where his hand had been. Then, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed that. 

Finally, he came back up to her and whispered, “I love you.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “And I look forward to this new life we’ve created, be it a boy or a girl.”

“Do you, really? Like I said, I know you weren’t expecting this but—”

“Hush, McKenna, and worry not about how I feel. I think it amazing. A surprise, yes, but a very welcome one.” He pressed his hand against hers, palm to palm, and entwined their fingers. “Tell me, though, would you have told Thor to pass the word along or would you have told me yourself?”

“I wanted to tell you, before I told anyone else. I would have only told him if there had been no other option.”

His thumb swept along hers. “You do realize, if this child is a girl, I will kill any boy who comes near her.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” She squeezed his hand. “Will you teach him or her your magic?”

“Absolutely.” He grinned. “You may come to fear what tricks may be played on you, though.”

“Wonderful.” She sank back against the pillows and smiled at him. “Try not to make me too crazy, okay?”

He bent and swept a kiss over her belly again and then came up to stretch out beside her again. “I promise nothing. I am the God of Mischief, remember.”

 As he spoke, he pulled her into his arms and she sank into him, snuggling her head against his chest. “So, how are you here, then? I mean, if Coulson didn’t tell Thor?”

He kissed the top of her head. “Thor helped me escape. Again.”

“How?”

“How do you think?”

She looked up at him and smiled. “Captain America again?”

“No. But as an Asgardian guard.”

“Try saying that five times.” When he gave her a puzzled look, she added, “It’s a joke. Your tongue will twist trying to say it five times.”

“Oh, I assure you, love, my tongue never twists.” He gave her a seductive smile. “Unless I want it to, that is.”

She shivered at the promise in his voice. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely.” He gently eased her onto her back again, and covered her body with his. He leaned in until his lips just brushed hers, and whispered, “Do you have to work in the morning?”

She shook her head. “No. Not until Friday. Why?”

“Because I’m planning on keeping you up far too late this evening.” His voice lowered to a whisper and he kissed her lightly. “As I said, we’ve much lost time to make up for.”

“We can sleep until noon if we wish,” she replied.

“Oh, I wish.” He kissed along her temple, and she shivered as his breath came lightly along her ear and he whispered, “I wish to hear you cry out my name again as I love you from here,” he kissed along her jaw line and down her neck, “to here,” his lips moved over her breast and down her ribs, “to here…”

Here made her suck in a sharp breath and her back bowed sharply again. Her god most definitely had a silver tongue and left her aching for him. For all of him.

He obliged and as he slid inside her, he caught her hands in his, pinned them to the bed on either side of her head, and laced his fingers with hers. His eyes held hers, soft and tender, as he began moving inside her again, with slow, carefully controlled thrusts. 

Her eyelids grew so heavy, but she refused to yield to them. She didn’t want to miss one moment of this, didn’t want to miss the slightest flicker of pleasure that crossed his face, or the way the muscle in his jaw bulged from the effort it must have taken for him to thrust so slowly. 

“I love you,” he growled, squeezing her hands.

“I—” She gasped as they neared that amazing edge—“I love you, too…”

Whereas the last time, he crushed her close and surged hard into her, this time, he was every bit as tender as he promised he’d be. He moaned softly, shuddered, and as he peaked with her, his forehead pressed into hers, his eyes locked with hers, and she felt him all the way to the center of her soul. This was love—love like she never dreamed could really exist, but was only dreamed up by poets and writers to appeal to the dreamers in everyone.

He arched hard, and then sank against her, burying his face in the slope of her neck to kiss her softly. Only then did he let show how much effort it took for him to remain so controlled as his breathing was ragged about the edges. She stroked his hair with a trembling hand as she whispered, “Hmm… so hard to believe you are the same man who demanded a thousand people kneel before you.” She traced her fingernails lightly down over his nape and along his left shoulder, laughing softly as he shivered. “Especially when you tremble at my touch. Perhaps you should kneel before me?”

“No one else will ever see this side of me,” he replied sleepily, lifting his head to smile at her. “Although, if I were you, I wouldn’t be gloating quite so, since I do intend to have you on your knees at some point this night.”

“Is that so?”

“Darling girl, I certainly hope so.” He eased one hand from hers and shifted off her. As she yawned, he tugged her up against him, nestling her back against his chest. “But if not tonight, definitely another. It will happen.”

She rubbed one eye, her post-coital drowsiness becoming full-blown exhaustion. It was one of the longest days she could remember and although it ended more wonderfully than she ever would have hoped, she was still wiped out. 

But on the other hand, she was still apprehensive of going to sleep, afraid that she would awake to find that this had all been yet another dream and she would be alone. Loki wrapped his arms about her, smoothing her hair away from her left ear as he murmured, “Are you asleep?”

“No,” she murmured drowsily, peering up at him. “I’m just… it’s silly…”

“What is?”

“I think I’m dreaming and when I open my eyes, you’ll be back on Asgard again.”

“I won’t be, love. I promise you, I will be right here when you awake. And I promise not to try to cook any more bacon.”

She laughed softly. “I still have to replace that stupid smoke detector.”

He lifted his left arm and swished his fingers. “Done.”

As that hand slid back over her belly, she sighed and snuggled back into his chest. “I could get spoiled by this.”

His palm skimmed gently over her stomach. “I look forward to being able to spoil you, McKenna. I’ve the feeling not many men have.”

“Some. But not many.”

“I will make you forget any other man ever touched you, love. That any other man ever hurt you. That any other man ever made you feel unworthy of being loved.” He whispered these words, but there was no denying the ferocity behind them. 

His arms tightened about her and he pressed a gentle kiss into her temple. “Sleep now, darling. I promise you I will be here when you wake.”

She nodded, her eyes closing as sleep crept over her like a stealthy cat. For the first time in eight weeks, she slept without dreaming and in utter peace.

[lulubelle814]

Regards, Loki - Chapter 9

Master List

Pulling up train schedules, Louisa looked at departure times.  Nothing but fear and doubt plagued her mind.  She’d called Cora earlier to ask for her advice, but there was no answer which wasn’t surprising.  

Getting up and walking away, she went to make her berry tea.  She knew ‘Loki” was right, but she was so scared of going.  Pacing around the apartment for a while, she knew a decision had to be made.  She was disturbed from her thinking when the doorbell rang.  Opening the door, she found Cora.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t answer earlier, but when I saw your missed call, I had a feeling you needed me.  So here I am.”

She held up breakfast croissants as recompense, and Louisa let her in.  “Great timing.  I’m starving!”  Food was placed on the coffee table, and Lou picked her laptop back up.

Looking over, Cora asked what she was doing.

“Ok, so ‘Loki’ suggested it might be a good idea to go visit mum’s grave since I haven’t been in so long.  I’ve been thinking about it and started looking up train schedules, but I just don’t know if I can do it.”

She swallowed her food before responding.  “I can go with you if you’d like?  And we can take my brother’s car.  I’ll just have to check with him.”

“Are you sure?”

“You know how much I hate it when you ask me that.”

“I can at least provide road trip snacks?”

“Deal.”  Cora pulled out her phone, sending a text off to her brother about borrowing the car.  His ears must have been burning because it only took him a few minutes to respond.

“He says we can go pick up the car.  He just needs it back before Monday.”

Before she lost her nerve, she said ok.  It was only going to be a day trip.  She sent a quick text to ‘Loki’ letting him know.  So after finishing breakfast, they gathered their stuff and headed out, only stopping at the shop long enough for drinks, road snacks, and flowers.

Thankfully the weather cooperated, and they made it there 2 hours later.  Cora parked the car at the cemetery.  “I know you’re nervous, and that’s ok.  If you don’t want to do this, we can turn around and head back home.”

That meant a lot to Louisa.  It was at that moment that ‘Loki’ finally messaged back.

Loki: I’m so proud of you.  You are strong.  You can do this.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the car door and slowly made her way to her mum’s grave, Cora following closely behind.  When they found it, Lou began to cry.

“I haven’t been here since….. I owe her so much.”

Cora wrapped her arms around her friend.  “She knows, and she understands.  No matter where you are, she’s always looking over you.  She knew what you were going through with that jerk.”

“I should have been there more for her.”

“She understands.  I promise.  She knew what you were going through with that asshole.  She’d be proud that you used the money you got to leave him and get your own place.  It’s what she wanted for you.”  

It wasn’t something Louisa liked to think about.  Those were dark times, and when her mother died suddenly, Brock gave her so much shit, saying she should focus on him and their relationship, not her dead mother.  

When a lawyer reached out to her a couple of weeks later about the small inheritance she was getting, she took that as a sign from her mother to finally take that step to leave him.  Cora helped her pack her stuff up one weekend when Brock was out of town and stayed with Cora until she found her own place.  The calls, texts, and emails from Brock were nothing short of nasty but eventually stopped after 2 or 3 months.  Thankfully he’d never cared enough during their relationship to know where her best friend lived.  So she had that piece of mind the moment she’d left him.

“You know,” Cora said hesitantly.  “I never told you, but she and I talked every now and then.  She told me she wished she could see you more but had figured out the situation you were in and didn’t want to make it worse for you.  We’d been working on a plan to help you when she died.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.  We didn’t want to add to your stress in dealing with him, but we both knew you needed a way out.  Honestly?  I was ready to just show up and drag you out of there.”

She couldn’t help but cry more.  “She was such an incredible woman.  I owe you both so much.”

“You owe us nothing, and she’d be thrilled you made the decision yourself, that you seized the opportunity with that inheritance.  Even if she hadn’t left you anything, I’d have had you move in with me.”

They stood there hugging each other for a good long while before Cora let go.  “I’ll go back to the car and give you two some alone time.”

She departed, and Louisa gave her full attention to the headstone.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t been here sooner, mom.  I’m sorry I didn’t visit you enough before the accident.”  The tears started up again.  “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me over the years, and even after.  I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t left that money.  I’d give it all back and more just to spend one more day with you.”  She didn’t move as it started raining.  “I’m so sorry, mom.”  She stood there for a few more minutes before heading back to the car, completely soaked.

Cora found a coffee shop just a few minutes away, and they ducked in for some hot cocoa and warm muffins before heading back.

[themculibrary]

Bucky/Sarah Wilson Masterlist

Accidents and Aftermaths (ao3) - spinachgarden T, 3k

Summary: They’re driving down a country road, windows down, sun streaming in. Sarah’s got one hand on the wheel, the other on Bucky’s thigh, playfully creeping upward as they belt out the lyrics of I put a Spell on You. Bucky is so far off pitch he’s practically singing a different version at this point, but there’s a smile in his eyes and it just makes everything else fade away, leaving nothing but the warm feeling in her chest, the music blaring on the radio, and the picturesque landscape surrounding them.

After that, it all happens so fast-

There’s a horrible, awful screeching noise, and then-

And then nothing.

all else above (dreaming of the man i love) (ao3) - philthestone M, 9k

Summary: The eve before Christmas Eve, Captain America was set to speak at the United Nations building, it was blizzarding in Brooklyn, and Sarah Wilson nearly died by way of a giant wheel.

She didn't die, of course. She was very gallantly rescued by a man to whom she hadn't spoken in four months. All because she'd kissed him.

Or -- and this was really a pressing question for both of them -- had it been Bucky who kissed her?

autumn. (ao3) - MissAmyShay G, 2k

Summary: Sarah hates autumn. But maybe she could learn to love it.

baby, it’s the way you touch me (ao3) - MissAmyShay E, 14k

Summary: On the night of their third date, Sarah and Bucky decide to take the next step in their relationship.

Bad Days (ao3) - MissAmyShay T, 6k

Summary: Sometimes Bucky has bad days. Sarah tries her best to help him through them.

Christmas in Romania (ao3) - Sarifinasnightmare E, 19k

Summary: Sarah is studying abroad in Romania and hopes to have a nice Christmas even though she is far from home. Her new co-worker at the coffee shop, James, immediately has eyes for her and after their first contact she can't help but look back.

coming home (ao3) - defined_insanity, Reagy_Jay T, 18k

Summary: Sarah sits on the closed lid of the toilet, staring down at the stick of plastic clutched tightly in her grasp. But no matter how long she looks, the little plus sign refuses to disappear or fade away.

Pregnant.

Her parents are going to kill her.

Fire and Snow (ao3) - MissAmyShay E, 8k

Summary: Bucky and Sarah take a weekend trip to a cabin to explore their physical relationship.

Free to Do What? (ao3) - aahrtyeah T, 32k

Summary: Sam has forbidden flirting, but Bucky's never really been one for rules anyway.

Sarah sees where Bucky started from more clearly than even he does. And she cannot get over his smile.

Home Safe (ao3) - spinachgarden E, 2k

Summary: The boys are already in bed when Bucky gets the call, and Sarah knows right away from his face when he sees the caller ID that it’s going to be a mission. Before he answers it he gives her a quick kiss on the forehead, then steps out onto the back porch.

Sarah sighs.

When he comes back in, sliding his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, he gives her a sad shake of the head and scrubs a hand over his face. “It should be a short one,” he says, “three days, maybe? I’m gonna go say goodbye to the boys.”

letters we never sent (ao3) - MissAmyShay G, 6k

Summary: Bucky likes Sarah. Sarah likes Bucky.

Cass and AJ think it’s time for their relationship to progress to a new level.

Nine Months (ao3) - thebrightestbird T, 16k

Summary: “Yo, we’re gonna have a new brother?” Cass asks.

“Or sister,” Sarah answers. “I love you boys, but I’d like a little more girl power in this house.”

Sam is staring daggers into Bucky.

Sarah's pregnant and couldn't be happier with the prospect. Bucky's thrilled and ready to become a father (and husband if he could only convince Sarah). And Sam gets his head out of his ass to fully embrace his partner as part of his family.

That's Sergeant Barnes-Wilson to you (ao3) - eden22 G, 1k

Summary: “Don’t flirt with my sister,” Sam had said. Bucky had let out half a laugh before he’d swallowed the rest of it, shaken his head.

Sam should have known then.

There’d been a lot of other shit going on though, so he figured he could be forgiven for not following up on it the way he’d meant to. And it wasn’t like Bucky would be back, anyways. Not to Sam’s town, not to his sister’s couch. They’d sort out this shit with the Flag Smashers and Bucky’d go back to ignoring his texts and calls, doing whatever he did in New York when he wasn’t following Sam around like a particularly menacing shadow with anger issues. Not worth worrying about.

Except it turned it out that none of that had been true. And it very much had been worth worrying about.

The Aftermath (ao3) - spinachgarden M, 2k

Summary: Sarah helps Sam and Bucky recover from a rough mission.

The Holidate (ao3) - defined_insanity G, 4k

Summary; Winnie shakes her head sadly as she puts the dish in the cabinet. He can feel the weight of every unsaid word she’s holding in, every despairing sigh he’s heard a million times before. And yet, he finds himself opening his mouth to say the words that will put a ridiculous lie in motion.

whatever you ask for (ao3) - Kestrafagnor T, 783

Summary: The Wilson family wants Bucky to join.

[jonathanvik]

Luyten V - Chapter 9

“A trip?” Rose asked, her spoon pausing before her mouth. Milk dripped from it into the cereal bowl below.

“Yeah, I thought it’d be nice to go to the city for the weekend,” her father said. “Get out after everything that’s going on.”

“Is that okay?” Rose turned to where her bodyguard was lurking in the corner. Brown sipped at his orange juice as he considered the suggestion, before shrugging. “I don’t see why not. I’ll need to clear it with my superiors, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“This weekend?” Her sister furrowed her brow. “I suppose I don’t have any plans.”

“Trip! Trip!” Danny pounded his fists against the dinner table, almost spilling Rose’s cereal bowl. Her mom’s quick reflexes put the kibosh to her overexcited five-year-old's antics, using her hands to restrain him.

“That sounds like a great idea, Hun,” her mother said. “But will they allow you away from work, dear? You know how Mr. Zwicky can get.”

“Yeah,” Rose deflated. She feared her father would get pulled away for some business deal again. It was pointless to get her hopes up. Still, a shopping trip with her mom and siblings sounded nice.

“No!” Everyone jerked in surprise as a fist slammed against the table. Milk spilled from Rose’s bowl onto the tablecloth. Rose, however, was too shocked to notice.

“No, we are having this trip,” her father’s tone was emphatic. “I don’t give a da…” Her father sucked in a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. “My work keeps me too distant from you guys. I can’t allow that , not with everything happening!”

“Dad.” Had the Altair attacks affected her father more than she’d realized? 

“I think it’s a wonderful idea, Chris,” her mother said, taking her husband’s hands.

She smiled as he kissed her on the lips. “I don’t say enough how much I love you.”

“Indeed, you don’t.” She kissed him back. Rose looked away in embarrassment. Still, she was happy for them. She’d worried their marriage had gotten too cold, fearing the worst. “Still, won’t Zwicky get upset with you? Don’t you have a major deal you’re working on?”

“Frank can handle it,” her father said defiantly. Rose marveled that he was so willing to stand up to his boss. Usually, her timid father kowtowed to his wishes. Heck, he didn’t even seem concerned about what this defiance might do to his career.

“Are we sure he isn’t an impostor or something?” Sophia whispered to her. “Like an Altair took over his brain.” Rose fought hard to resist laughing.

“Besides, I have too much planned to worry about work!” her father continued. “Like the Twins game on Saturday. I’ve already bought tickets.”

“Have you now?” her mother raised an eyebrow, false accusation in her voice. Her father hadn’t made this decision spur-of-the-moment. “That sounds like a lovely idea.”

Rose bubbled with excitement. She loved baseball and hadn’t seen the Twins play live in forever. Her little brother let out a series of excited squeaks, equally thrilled by the prospect. Sophia pretended to be aloof but hid a secret smile.

“And I have a dozen other activities planned. I hear the zoo has recently revamped its lion exhibit. It might be fun checking out,” her father continued.

“I think you’re a genius,” her mom kissed her husband on the cheek. Her father responded with a radiant smile, the happiest she’d seen him in ages.

“We needed the trip,” Rose thought. It was strange to consider the Altair had brought them closer all together, the monstrous aliens healing a festering wound they’d never realized was there. Rose couldn’t wait for the weekend.

---

“What a mess,” Sandage stared at the scene before him, glad he wasn’t there in person. The crime scene’s miasma stunk something fierce. “What could have caused this?”

Agent Flamsteed ran his fingers through his hair, considering how best to answer. “It’s hard to say. An eyewitness saw a dark-haired man covered in dark stains leave the crime scene but vanished before the witness got a good look at him.”

“Vanished?”

“Disappeared like smoke,” Flamsteed replied before shrugging. “But it was dark, and the witness wasn’t exactly sober.”

“That any single person did this defies belief. The Altair must be involved. It’s the most logical explanation.” The bar was a gruesome scene, the worst Sandage had ever seen. It was difficult to tell if the remains scattered across the crime scene had even been human. 

“We can’t be sure,” Flamsteed said after a moment’s consideration. “We’ve yet to find any telltale signs of their involvement. In the previous Altair attacks, we found fragments of their flesh contaminating the scene to spread their corruption. Here? We’ve passed through the crime scene a dozen times yet found nothing.”

Then the Altair weren’t involved? Sandage frowned, that answer not satisfying him. Were the Altair trying to keep a lower profile? Not well, but still avoiding making it obvious. The implications were disturbing. They still didn’t know how intelligent the alien invaders were. 

“Another thing. We found this on one of the victim’s phones, a Carolyn Drake.” The other agent revealed a phone in an evidence baggy.

Sandage’s blood went cold as he saw the picture on the screen. It was Rose standing with President Okona. He released a ragged breath. “One heck of a coincidence. One I don’t like at all.” He cursed, wishing he hadn’t agreed to allow the girl and her family to go on a weekend trip to Minneapolis. They were leaving tomorrow morning. Still, it might be safer if his charge left town for a couple days. He’d have agents scour the girl’s home for any suspicious characters.

“Good work finding this. Aid the capital police however you can. Find this dark-haired man. But keep this quiet. We don’t know if he’s an Altair or not. We don’t want to scare people needlessly.” 

Great, more bad news! He was still stinging after the failed attempt to track the owner of the P.O. box of Doctor William von Fraunhofer’s pen pal. A third party picked up the mail for Macauley, then mailed it to another distant address across the country. He cursed this mysterious benefactor for sending his agency on this bizarre wild goose chase, but he wasn’t discouraged. Sandage swore he’d hunt this person to the ends of the Earth, if only to heal his wounded pride.

Another no-name town in Ohio, huh? Run all you like, Macauley. You’re never escaping me!

“Anyway, in the meantime, Put extra guards on Rose,” Sandage considered calling her back home but decided against it. He didn’t want to cause Rose undue worry. That girl deserved a normal day out. “Report anything suspicious.”

“Yes, sir,” the junior agent said, running off to make the necessary calls.

“I’m getting a bad feeling.” And the Luyten V’s new weapon wouldn’t be ready for another month. 

Sandage gave the LUVOLT headquarters a call. “Gold? I want you to hurry production on Project: Pierce, work triple shifts if required.”

“You’re a real slave driver, you know that?” Doctor Gold said, annoyed. “You realize we’re working with technology the world’s never seen before?”

“We have no choice.”

“Oh,” Gold said, his voice sobering as he caught Sandage’s tone. “I can’t promise anything, but we’ll do our best.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Sandage sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His body drooped, the last few sleepless nights taking their toll. Since the first Altair attack, he hadn’t been sleeping well. “We’re counting on you. Good luck.”

Sandage heard a smile behind the scientist’s voice. “Will do. You can count on us. We’re all eager to save the world.” Sandage only hoped it’d be enough.

---

“Rose, did you pack the extra snacks?” her mom said from the backseat. Rose yawned. The sun hadn’t risen yet, its red rim visible on the horizon. As usual, her father wanted to leave bright and early.

“Yes, Mom.” The grocery bag Rose held made a satisfactory rumble as she shook it. “Everything’s here.”

“Soph, could you load the water for me?” Inside, Rose heard her mom fiddling with their brother’s booster seat. “Just put it in the back.”

Busy with her phone, Sophia hadn’t noticed. Rose elbowed her ribs to get her attention. “Huh?”

“Water bottles in the back,” Rose said, hiding a smug smile. “Wait till we’re in the car to play with your phone.”

“Okay.” Sophia returned with a wrapped pack of water bottles, grunting under their weight as she loaded them next to the groceries they’d already packed.

After an hour of organized chaos getting everything ready, they loaded into the van. Not wanting to interfere with their family trip, her bodyguard’s beat-up brown Mustang tailed behind them. 

Feeling somewhat anti-social, Rose stuck in earbuds and listened to her music. While gentle nature sounds played, she watched the scenery zip past. It was a lovely day, the grass richly green and the sun brightening the cloudless sky. Rose emptied her mind, just enjoying the ride. 

“Rose?” A voice called, rousing Rose from her reverie. She pulled out her earbuds.

“Yes?”

“I’m wondering how you’ve been, Rue?” Her sister asked. “How are things at school?”

Surprised her sister wanted to chat, Rose answered. “About as usual. A school fair’s coming up. They’ve partnered me with Georges. He’s working pretty hard to impress me. He insists on daily visits to check the project’s progress!”

“From your tone, I can tell you’re not exactly pleased with him,” her sister replied ruefully.

“Georges can be a lot,” Rose made a vague gesture with her hand.

“You know he’s had a crush on you since forever?”

“Don’t remind me. I’d like Georges more if he backed off and respected my space. “It’s like he thinks if he isn’t constantly attentive to me, I’ll forget his existence!”

Sophia laughed and rolled her eyes. “Some boys can be dumb like that. In high school, this one boy became obsessed with me simply because I smiled at him once.”

“No!” Rose said, scandalized.

“Fraid so. I ended up telling him upfront I wasn’t interested in him. It wasn’t pretty. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he didn’t understand boundaries. Teenage years are the worst for romantic stuff. Nobody knows how it works.”

“Joy.” And she’d have to deal with that nonsense soon, too.

“But you’ll each figure things out. Georges is still immature. Just tell him how you feel about his behavior. You should deal with this sooner rather than later before he becomes even more hormonal and crazy.”

“But…” Rose hesitated, knowing it’d devastate her friend. It might ruin their friendship!  But she realized the wisdom of her sister’s advice. “No, you’re right. I’ll tell him sometime soon.” She’d better deal with it now, not wanting to tolerate this unwanted behavior for years. “You’re surprisingly wise, Soph.”

“That’s what elder sisters are for, Rue.” Sophia ruffled her little sister’s hair. Her smile turned sad. “I’ve missed this, just talking with you like this. I’ve let school distract me for too long. When I leave for college in the fall, we won’t see each other as often. I’ll miss you.”

“Me too.” Rose looked down, her mood turning dim. “With everything going on, it’s made me realize how distant I’ve been, too. I’ve been lashing out at you because of my frustrations. I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand. You’re thirteen, Rue. I was that age once. Dear Lord, I’m already sounding like an old lady.” Both sisters shared a laugh. “So, what’s your science fair project about? Knowing you, it’s something special.”

Rose warmed to her sister as they chatted. It reminded her how much she looked up to her older sister. A pang stabbed her heart when she realized how much she’d miss Sophia once she left for college. Still, they had ample time during the trip to compensate for lost time.

---

Okab’s nose scrunched up as he explored the human dwelling, disliking the ever-present tree scent, as if the humans didn’t stink enough. His prey dwelled in a modest two-story building. Its contents sparked some curiosity from the Altair general.

It seemed the humans living here had offspring, which they did their best to accommodate. Okab stretched down to pick up a toy that resembled an Earth animal with a long gray trunk in place of its nose. It squealed as he squeezed it, no doubt to entertain a human baby’s developing brain. 

Unlike the Altair, who were born fully formed and intelligent, humans spent their first dozen years helpless and feeble. It was a miracle their species survived this long.

Okab wondered if this development period came with special evolutionary advantages. The general shook his head, dropping the toy on the carpeted floor. Understanding the human species wasn’t his mission.

From the home’s scent, it’d been vacant for the last day. Rose’s family must have gone somewhere. Okab cursed. Had his prey realized someone was pursuing them? But Okab decided against such an idea. If that were true, they’d leave a trap to destroy him. His prey hadn’t left their home in a hurry, meaning they were still unaware of any impending danger. But where would these humans go?

Should he wait here until they returned? No, that wouldn’t do. Before entering, he’d observed some humans watching over the building and dealt with them. While this pathetic species didn’t possess a hive mind to notify them of these guards’ demise, someone would notice their absence. No, it was best to continue the pursuit.

“What’s this?” Okab spotted a calendar displaying the planet’s lunar cycle pinned to a wall. Someone had written notes for daily activities in a neat scrawl in each square box. On the box representing this day, it said “trip to Minneapolis” for the upcoming few days. It listed various activities, each marked with a timestamp. Okab tore the calendar from its pin on the wall, showing an array of jagged teeth as he smiled. Rose was in his sights now.

Okab leaped onto the motorcycle he’d taken from a human and revved its engine. He marveled at its simple mechanical power, the machine’s rumbling excited something deep within him. This motorcycle was the only thing he’d enjoyed since arriving on this worthless, noisy rock. The Altair general laughed as he sped away from Rose’s home in delight at the machine’s raw power and speed.

[bluejay-writes]

A sort of Fairy Tail - Chapter 3

Rating: T / PG-13, SFW. Fandom: Mystic Messenger Relationships: 707/MC (Jaena)/Saeran Chapter 3 Wordcount: 2899 Summary:

Freelance Hacker by day, cosplayer by weekend, Jaena Grey was living her best life. One fateful convention, she meets a scarily talented fellow costumer and his friend Zen.

When Jaena finds herself embroiled in the usual Mint Eye apartment plot, Seven panics to see someone he knows. Hijinks ensue, including Jaena spending the majority of her time cosplaying as 707 in his own bunker to hide herself from Vanderwood - for better or worse.

You can also read this on AO3! <- Also a good place to check tags.

Chapter 3: Crafting 606

“So… you’re a long ways from Comic Con.” he said, once they were in his car, speeding away from the apartment.

“So are you.” She said, but relented. “I’m on vacation. Came to take a spring session at SKY University about Special Effects work and I’ve got two weeks left here for normal tourist bullshit before I go home.”

“Why just tell me all that?” He said, smirking.

“You’re a hacker. That’s all surface level, and you probably already knew it, or well assumed the latter based on flight dates.”

“Oof, ya got me.” He said, chuckling. “You seem familiar with the hacker life.”

“Did you think cosplay was my career?” She said, smirking.

“No. You’re not jaded enough to be a full time "content creator”, either. So… filthy rich, maybe?  Admittedly, I didn’t dig too deep into the mystery woman because, well, you’re you. I couldn’t just leave my cosplay buddy in a room with a bomb.” His eyes blew wide and he slapped a hand over his mouth.

“A bomb?” Jaena asked, raising an eyebrow, but trying to tamp down her reaction otherwise.

“Yeah. Rika made me set it up for information security, but… there’s probably something more than just guest information there if she wanted something like that.”

“Oh, fuck. I thought you were joking.” Jaena said, a chill running down her spine.

“I mean, I do that a lot, but… not about this. It’s why I dropped everything and came to get you. You’re just lucky I was out grocery shopping when you appeared in the chat. Hope you’re up for a decent car trip, we’re about an hour out from the bunker, if I speed.”

“Only speed when it’s fun.” Jaena said, and leaned her head back on the car seat. “Can we stop by my hotel for my things? Wait, are you kidnapping me? Should I be worried?”

“We can’t go now, I need to get back before Vanderwood realizes something’s up, but I’ll make time later tonight or tomorrow to drive you back there. And I guess you’re kinda being kidnapped? You already were, and now I’m holding onto you to keep you safe.”

“Oh, for real?” Jaena couldn’t help but channel her inner Chad. “That’s fine. Doesn’t change my plans at all. Might even save me money.”

“Honestly? I don’t know how you’re as calm as you are.” he said, shaking his head.

“Believe me, I’ll break down later, once I feel safe.” She said, sighing. “This is a lot. Not at all what I wanted from my vacation, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope I’d run into you here.”

“Me? Why here?” he sounded confused, but a quick glance told her he was smirking.

“Well, you were with Zen that day and this is his hometown. Also I didn’t run into you again that entire con circuit so it was unlikely you were one of his ‘local’ friends or something. Besides, you mentioned customs about your Unbreakable costume.”

“Oh, you knew it was Zen, then?”

“Lucy did. She’s still mad that she didn’t manage to score his number.”

“Oh my god he has not stopped whining at me about blocking him.” Luciel laughed, and Jaena realized she really loved the sound of his laugh. “Maybe I can have you give his number to your girl, if she’s trustworthy and not likely to screw his career over.”

“Lord no, she’s the most respectful fan you’ll ever meet.” Jaena paused and then added “At least in public. I’m sure she’d disrespect the hell out of him in the bedroom.”

“You did not just say that!” Luciel crowed, smacking his hand against the steering wheel.

Jaena woke a little bit later, not realizing she’d fallen asleep until the sound of the phone ringing through the car speakers startled her awake.

Luciel turned and looked at her.

“Don’t say anything. Don’t breathe loud. Okay? I have to take this. It’s… work.”

Jaena nodded to show she understood, and laid her head back against the seat again, figuring that would make him more comfortable.

“What?” he said, after he’d tapped to accept the call.

“Zero Seven, where are you? That grocery run should have had you back here an hour ago, at the latest.”

“Sorry, Vandy, I ran into a friend at the store and we got to talking. You know how it is.”

“Don’t call me Vandy. And stop spending so much time with those RFA Nerds. I have to go make a house call. You’d better be home and working by the time I call you again.”

“I’m like ten minutes from home. I’ll get the job done tonight, just like I promised.”

“You damn well better.” The voice, ostensibly ‘Vandy’ seemed irritated, and the call cut.

“Sorry about that.” Luciel said after a minute. “The life of a hacker is trash.”

“Tell me about it.” Jaena said, with a roll of her eyes. “I was really looking forward to this vacation.”

Luciel eyed her. “I want to dig deeper into that statement but first I gotta handle this situation.”

“What situation?”

“Welp.” Luciel sighed. “I’m not supposed to have friends. Vandy tolerates the RFA because I work better with them around than I did before I started working with them, but…”

“The who?”

“Oh. That’s the chatroom you were in. I’ll give you the rundown on that once we’re settled at home, but. I’m definitely not supposed to bring a distractingly cute girl home. So.”

Jaena blinked. Distractingly Cute? Like, she was easy enough on the eyes, she supposed, but that was a nice compliment he’d paid her. Not that he gave her a chance to say anything before going on.

“I was thinking since you’re so good at cosplay…wanna just cosplay as me? See how long we can fool Vanderwood?”

“Uh. What’s the bad ending?” Jaena asked, immediately imagining herself in his current outfit.

“Well, worst case, Vanderwood thinks you’re an enemy plant and tases you.”

“Zap-dead or Zap-tingles-oh-god-ow?”

“The latter. He doesn’t kill unless he has to.”

“Well, then I think this is a hilarious plan and I’m into it. but do you have a you-wig? I don’t want to cut off my hair.”

“Yeah, well, cutting your gorgeous hair would earn me a fate worse than death. A tragedy. A travesty. The worst timeline.” Luciel said, grinning. “Oh. And you should get used to calling me Seven.”

“Seven?” She blinked. Zen had called him that, so had people in the chat. Also the agent.

“Well, technically I’m Agent 707 EXTREME.”

“…extreme?” She smirked at him. 

“I was twelve, cut me some slack.”

“Oof, that’s too young, babe.” she said, laughing, and had to think back on what she’d said when she realized he’d gone as red as his hair. “Oh. I. Um.” Now she was blushing. Great.

“It’s fine.” he said quietly, and she just let it pass.

“Okay.” He said, grinning like an idiot. “This is my cosplay cave.”

Jaena didn’t know what she was expecting when he led her down to yet a deeper basement, but a fully furnished entire floor walk-in closet full of (irritatingly well organized) cosplay paraphernalia was not it.

“Vanderwood doesn’t come down here, says it scares him, so I figure we’ll set you up a place to sleep and game or whatever.”

“First thing I’m going to do is see if I can’t track down Unknown.” Jaena said, her voice tense.

“Oho! Another hacker! I thought that’s what you were getting at earlier.” He slung an arm around her shoulders. “Maybe cosplaying God Seven is a perfect choice then.”

Jaena laughed, but it was somewhat forced. “I might need to stay in that chat room and pretend nothing’s different if we want to convince Unknown that I’m still in the apartment.”

“There are cameras, he already knows you’re gone. Besides, I said I was coming to get you.” Seven said, dropping his arm. “But you’re right that keeping you in the chat isn’t a bad idea. Hell, then I can chat with you even when Vanderwood is here. V seems convinced that Rika wanted this, which… fuck, I am going to have to explain everything about Rika and the RFA now.”

“Wait.” Jaena said, “One thing at a time. Let’s just get me back in the chat, and you can tell them you took me somewhere safe, and we’ll let them explain the way V wanted them to. Less work for you. More time for me to track Unknown without having to explain what I’m doing.”

“Alright. First thing’s first, turning you into me.” Seven walked over to the wall of wigs, and grabbed one that was in fact a perfect replica of his own hair, and handed it to her. “Caps and pins are by the mirror on that wall. I’ll be right back with my spare hoodie.”

Jaena didn’t take long to get her hair braided and up out of the way under the wig. Her own hair lent a bulk under the cap that actually made it look more like his messy hair than she expected. Next step was seeing if he had anything she could use to bind her chest. Sure, he wore loose fitting clothes, but not loose enough to hide her obvious feminine features. 

Strolling over to what looked like the complicated underpinnings section of his closet, Jaena was simultaneously surprised and confused to find binders in multiple colors and fabrics. Weirdo. She chuckled, carefully stripping off her shirt and bra, and settling herself into a binder with a sigh. It had been awhile since she’d worn one of these, but they always made her feel safe. Contained. Hidden.

Behind her, Seven cleared his throat. “You aren’t wearing a shirt.”

Jaena turned to look at the ginger, a pile of clothes in his hands, and a light blush on his cheeks. “Silly boy, You’ve seen me in less. In public.”

“It’s oddly different when you’re in my home, though.” He tossed her a shirt, and she carefully slipped it on. “Also I don’t know how we’re going to hide your hips. I hope my jeans actually fit you. They might be too big. I didn’t think about that…” Seven trailed off as Jaena shed her own jeans without a second thought for modesty.

Jaena shrugged. “People see what they want to see.” She held out her hand, and he held out the jeans. “Oh, these should be fine.” she said after a glance at the size tag.

Seven of course had turned away, red as a tomato at Jaena’s lack of concern with him seeing her in various states of undress. When he dared to turn back, Jaena was once again fully clothed. In his clothes. She held her hand out for the hoodie and slipped it on, noticing something clink together in the pocket.  When she pulled it out, she saw a set of contact lens bottles, with Seven’s gold color floating in them.

“They’re blanks. I don’t know if you wear actual contacts or anything, but…”

“Nope! I have a smidge of farsightedness, but nothing worth correcting.” Jaena said, as Seven directed her over to the cosplay bathroom. 

“I’ll have to move some things so you can use this as an actual bathroom… no shower down here, but you can use mine…”

Jaena tried not to smile at his rambling, while sliding lenses in her eyes. Some part of her knew he could have put something in the contact solution, but she doubted he would. He’d made a point of handing her sealed containers, after all. She turned back to him and he beckoned her out of the bathroom space.

“Do a little spin?” He gestured, and she did a little spin. 

“What do you think?”

“Well, you’re no 707, but…. 606 maybe.”

“Aw, what’s wrong?” Jaena looked herself over, pursing her lips.

“The voice, Scarlet.” he said, laughing. “So maybe don’t talk to Vanderwood. Or whisper?”

“Okay.” she whispered, and Seven wrapped her in his arms and spun her around. She laughed, his joy was contagious.

“Now, I have to work lest Vandy actually tase me intentionally.” he said, pouting. “Come upstairs, I’ll get you set up with a laptop while I get some things running.”

<707 entered the chat> <Jaena entered the chat> Yoosung★: They’re back! 707: Sorry for the delay, figured if we didn’t want an intruder in Rika’s apartment, and the intruder also didn’t want to be there, best bet was to get them out. V: I’d like to explain what we’re about, and what we’d like from you. Before I go.

Jaena watched as the chat explained, each in their own words, about the RFA and the parties they host, and what they’d hope she’d be willing to do. She hadn’t the heart to tell them that she was due to fly back home in two weeks. Maybe if this was something she could do from her condo, but…

V: And I have to run. Take good care of our new member, everyone. <V left the chat> Yoosung★: Just like that he’s gone, like he was never here. Jumin Han: He is a busy artist. Jaena: V’s departure aside, thank you for all of that. Also I’m sorry for being rude earlier. Jumin Han: Oh, it has manners. ZEN: It’s a she. Jumin Han: Still haven’t proven that to me. Jaehee Kang: Nice to have another woman around, Jaena. Yoosung★: Wait, Seven, so Jaena is definitely a girl? 707: Hey wait Jaena, can I….?

Seven’s voice echoed down the stairs, “They want to see pics. I have ones from con?”

Jaena wasn’t sure how that would help them believe she was a real person, but also she’d looked heckin good at that con, so there was no reason not to.

Jaena: I guess? 707: [shot of Jaena as Erza, as he met her] Yoosung★: Seven… that’s just you in cosplay. ZEN: Seven, that’s just that girl you were crushing on last comic con. Jaena: …crushing on? ZEN: Oh yeah. Seven met this girl and hasn’t stopped talking about her basically since. Yoosung★: Oh yeah! His perfect Scarlet! 707: omg guys can you not… Jaena: Perfect Scarlet, eh Seven? 707: Oh no 707: uh 707: [Depressed Emoji] Yoosung★: omg is it actually her ZEN: WHAT?! ZEN: [Shocked Emoji] Jaena: I can’t send photos on this chat, but…

Jaena’s cheeks were hot, but she knew if she didn’t make herself look like a real person in their eyes they were going to disbelieve in her very existence.  She bit her lip as she flipped through her selfies and grabbed one of the ones she’d taken to prove to Lucy that she was alive, and sent it to Seven’s number from her real phone, which had multimedia messaging still enabled, unlike the thing that was practically a brick with a messenger attached.

Yoosung★: Seven make it so she can send us pics! 707: Oh, she sent me one from her actual phone. Here, current Jaena. 707: [Selfie of Jaena with Boba on SKY campus] Yoosung★: Hey that’s my school! Jaena: I was auditing a class there this last semester. Too bad we never ran into each other! ZEN: Seven would have been jealous. Jaena: Anyway that’s me. Sorry for dropping in on your chat like this. Jaena: Or I guess, getting kidnapped into your chat for some reason. Jaehee Kang: That is concerning. Jaena: Don’t worry, I’m not kidnapped anymore, I think. ZEN: Seven, you aren’t pranking us, right? ZEN: You weren’t Unknown, were you? 707: I am not Unknown. 707: I am grateful to him for bringing my Scarlet to me though! 707: [Heart Eyes Emoji] Jaehee Kang: I have too much work to do for whatever this chat is turning into. Jaehee Kang: Jaena, do reach out if you need some girl talk, though. Jaena: Back at you! Jumin Han: Yes, I too am going to excuse myself. <Jumin Han left the chat> <Jaehee Kang left the chat> ZEN: No offer of girl talk from Jumin, though, I see. Yoosung★: Wait, does that mean Seven has a girlfriend now? Jaena: Whoa whoa whoa Jaena: Nothing like that. 707: We’re friends though 707: We’re having soft tacos later. Jaena: ok catbug 707: nyaaa ZEN: NO CATS.  ZEN: I’m leaving. ZEN: But not because of you, Jaena. <ZEN left the chat> Yoosung★: I have to go too, the land of LOLOL is calling. <Yoosung★ left the chat> Jaena: Well, that was an abrupt end to a hectic conversation. 707: We don’t think it be like that, but it do. 707: I gotta work. You gotta work. Text if you need something. Jaena: Yes, sir! Perfect Scarlet, signing off. <Jaena has left the chat> 707: God help me, I’m never going to live that down. <707 has left the chat>

Later, sitting on her makeshift bed on the floor of the fancy-dresses section, Jaena stared at the image on the screen.  She’d managed to hack into surveillance cameras near where she’d been when she ran into Unknown.  Either he was cocky, or he was an idiot.  She’d managed to get a shot of his face from the nearby bank’s camera.

“Hey, Scarlet.” Seven said from the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey, Seven.” she said, not tearing her eyes from the screen. “Do you have a twin?”

[ecodweeb]

EV Rentals with Turo and Hertz: nope, never again

As you may be aware, I justified the purchase of Karen the Kona based on Albert the Audi being out of service for a drivetrain replacement and my husband needing to rent a car to visit his father for his birthday on a weekend I was supposed to be out of town for work. Needless to say the rental experience made him very, very glad that I bought a second car.

This all started out with optimism: he was going to rent an Ioniq 5, which was a potential candidate as “next car” whenever that time came. He rented the car on Turo from a lady who apparently had a fleet of cars with a “driver” who delivers the cars to the renters. This person doesn’t follow directions, as my husband was detailed with photos as to where the car needed to be parked at his work and which charger to plug it into. They ignored all of that and plugged it into a Level 2 charger in the wrong part of the parking lot, meaning the car wasn’t charged sufficiently for him to immediately hit the road when he got off work.

Not like that was going to happen -- the car was delivered with a flat rear tire and he spent over 20 minutes in fleeting daylight to photograph every wheel on the car which had massive curb damage, every scratch, wrinkle, and tear. This car had just over 30,000 miles on it but looked like it had triple that in wear. He was so late coming home to get the dogs that I called him afraid he’d been in an accident of some kind. When he gets home, he plugs the car into our ChargePoint Home Flex 50A charger so it’ll soak up as much power as possible before he hits the road. I got our Ryobi hand held air compressor out and aired all the tires up to the factory spec. The rear tire was over 8lb underinflated -- not good for tire life.

So after rushing about to install the dog cover in the back seat, harness and load the dogs (remember we have a quasi-geriatric who needs help getting into and out of cars and is prone to puking), and load up all his stuff.... he kissed me on the forehead and said goodbye, walking out and leaving his dad’s birthday card and present on the pool table. Oops. This, however, wasn’t going to be the worst of the weekend. He had to stop twice on his way up to put air into that rear tire. The trip is only ~180 miles so every 90 or so he’d have to stop and air it back up. His consumption was low 3′s - which is poor for this vehicle as it should get over 4 on a trip like this - and he rolled up with 6% state of charge (he left with around 90%) and a low tire warning.

Now, on Saturday - the day after he left - I bought the Kona and had every intention of driving it up to his parents house and dropping off the birthday present, however the whole locking the keys in the car at the Greensboro charging stop derailed those plans. He did look at the car and found that it did indeed have a nail in that tire, and had asked us to bring him a tire patch kit - which we couldn’t do. I felt terrible about this, in fact, I moped about it for days.

He did the smart thing and ignored the car until Monday, when he took it to a tire shop. Turns out this thing didn’t have one, but two punctures in it and it was filled with slime where someone used the roadside kit on it already. There is no way this car should have been handed off to him in this condition. This is where things get ugly, fast. He had been calling the owner multiple times and only getting voicemail. He was messaging her in the app and could see that she read his messages but wasn’t responding. So he called Turo and Turo refuses to replace the tire, saying they’d reimburse him if he did it. The tire shop refuses to let the car drive away with that tire on it. Eventually - after about two hours of calling - Turo agreed to send a roadside tow truck to tow the vehicle back to the Raleigh dropoff/return point. John now needed to rent another car to get home.

HIs mom went to the tire shop and picked him up, she’d intended to take him to Enterprise (which he worked at in college). On the way he saw Hertz and that Hertz had a Tesla Model 3 sitting right in front of the lot, so he asked his mom to pull in there. The Tesla actually needed to go back to North Carolina, so they were delighted that he inquired about it. I was less enthused, because I knew he was going to utterly hate the car but at least he could say he’s driven one on a real road trip and could form his own opinion. He loaded up the pups and headed towards home. I called him at one point and it sounded as if he was talking to me in a tunnel, the audio quality of the Tesla was horrible - worse than the Hyundai, our Audi, or really any vehicle we’ve owned with a factory handsfree system. He said that I, too, sounded like I was in a tunnel to him. I’d say perhaps it was a bad connection, but all calls I made were at home over Gigbit Fiber (T-Mobile Wifi calling for the win). I asked him how he liked the car and he said “on paper I thought I’d love it, but it keeps emergency braking in the middle of sweeping bends on US220 and the last time it threw the old dog against the back of my seat, so I can’t use the cruise control system at all.” Well, that’s both unfortunate but also what I expected. We have a friend who lives out that way and is currently stuck with a Model 3 (intended it to be a 3-6mo purchase then flip for $$$ until the used market for Teslas dropped out). He told me that his does the same thing, and that he’s just accepted that he has to manually drive that section of 220 to get to Roanoke. 

When my husband got home, he didn’t say he hated the car... but he did say we’d never buy one. We’d ridden in Kyle Connor’s 2018 model on I-95 and both complained about the wind noise, he said that this 2020 model was just as bad as the 2018. He also said that the trim that goes around the passenger seatbelt in the B-pillar would squeak/rattle - and I said hold up now, that was an endearing trait on your Volvos (the “volvo squeak”) and he said yes but that wasn’t loud and border line ear piercing. He then went into the common complaints -- the touch screen is annoying to use, nothing about the car was intuitive, and that the minimal interior was too minimal for him.

He didn’t plug the car in, and I asked him why. He told me that Hertz told him so long as they could move it around the lot that he didn’t need to charge it. I told him we should plug it in because I recalled reading an article from Reddit that Hertz (or someone else renting EVs) had modified their return policy so that if you brought it back with over 70% charge there wasn’t a fueling fee, 30-70% there was like a $50 fee and below 30% was a $100 fee. He wanted to argue that “They said,” and I said “It’s Hertz, do you really want to chance this?” So we plugged it in and let it charge until it was over 75% charged to return it. While we waited the owner of the Ioniq 5 messaged him - not called, messaged - that she’d so sorry, she just got off a 16-hour international flight and wasn’t able to respond. John’s exact words were to her were “If you’re going to be renting vehicles and know you’ll be out of touch on a flight, you should have someone to manage this for you.” He was much more polite than I would have been.

We dropped the Tesla off and didn’t think much about it until a few days later when John was dealing with Turo about being reimbursed for his trip interruption. Turo finally agreed to refund him the cost of the Hertz rental, but they wouldn’t refund anything on the actual Turo rental. He flat out said he’d never rent from Turo again. He then checked his credit card and sees an additional $75 charge from Hertz for his rental. He calls Hertz and they tell him it’s because he returned the car without charging it. He argues, no I did. They’re confused. You used a Supercharger, so that’s why there is the fee. He said no, I plugged it in at my house and charged it above 70% before returning it, keeping in line with the online policy. This call gets escalated, and ultimately they’re told the office issued this charge and that he’d need to take it up with them.

So we have a friend who works at the office we dropped the car off at, and she told us that no his rental was closed out by corporate and gave him a number to call. The person who answered again said well you supercharged it, and he said no I charged it at home. The agent couldn’t seem to understand this and I couldn’t help but grin when he said “Madam, we own 6 EVs and three charging stations at home. I charged it at home before returning it, I did not pay to use a supercharger or anything else.” They say they need to send him to a Tesla specialist, that person again wants to argue that he charged at a Supercharger. Well, after standing his ground they come back and say “oops, sorry, yeah, we’ll reverse this charge.” 

At the next run club he saw our friend who works at the office. She said she poked around and saw that the office never closed the rental out when he returned it and had rented the car back out to someone else who did charge at a supercharger and it billed to my husband’s rental. Ultimately this was a comedy of errors that only we could experience.

So, will we rent a car from Turo or Hertz again? Turo’s a hard no - when they were RelayRides I had an account and cancelled it after the Liz Fong-Jones lawsuit. I named their treatment of this vehicle host as the reason I was closing my account, as a result... several years later after they rebranded to Turo, I re-opened my account to rent my BMW i3 to my best friend who took it on a 2800+ mile excursion to Florida before he moved to Colorado. I had to fight because my account is permanently blacklisted from renting card on their platform. I went through many avenues to find out why - it’s not Turo policy to explain why they do things - and the NC Attorney General’s letter to Turo got a written response that was forwarded to me stating that I was deemed high risk due to comments made to customer service and not due to my driving record.

Will I rent from Hertz? Well, we did notice they have Kona Electrics as rentals and since we own that model I’d gladly rent one. However, I’d make sure that I return the car during business hours (we dropped off overnight while they were closed) and ensure my rental is fully closed out and that I do not owe any additional fees. My husband has said he simply refuses to go by car if it’s not his Audi.

[katelynnwrites]

pairing: Ona Batlle x f!Reader

warnings: so much fluff

word count: 1216

summary: just fluff and your first kiss with ona

It’s Only A Matter Of Time

You’re the first to approach the new signing, finishing up your conversation with Jackie and walking over to the brunette girl who seemed lost.

‘Hi!’

She turns around, glancing shyly at you.

‘Hi.’

You smile at her and she fidgets, holding out her hand, ‘I’m Ona, the new defender?’

‘Oh. You’re Spanish.’ You say, shaking her hand and placing her heavy accent immediately.

‘Sí.’ Ona answers, playing with her fingers nervously. Did you have a problem with that?

‘¿Cómo te está gustando aquí hasta ahora?’

‘Me gusta mucho, tú hablas español?’ Ona asks, shock evident in her voice.

‘Sí.’ You grin at her and she smiles back with relief. Having someone on the team who spoke her first language would make things much easier for her. It calmed her anxieties down too.

‘How?’ Ona asks curiously.

‘Oh, I spent some of my childhood in Spain. Then I was lucky enough to be able to study abroad for an exchange program a couple of years ago. I think I actually saw you play once.’

‘You did?’ The Spanish girl furrows her brows, trying to remember if she’s seen you before.

‘Let’s just say I’m really glad you’re playing on our side now.’ You tease, making Ona laugh.

She doesn’t know why but she feels comfortable around you, the conversation flowing easily while you two train together, having paired up for the exercises.

In a mix of Spanish and English, the both of you get to know each other better, laughing along and occasionally at the other.

You don’t tell her but you’ve had a crush on her ever since you saw her play all those years ago. And it wasn’t just one game you’d watched, you had gone back to every game of hers till you had to come back to England.

*******

When Ivana signed, the three of you quickly became best friends, spending all of your time with each other. From shopping trips, to sleepovers and movie nights, even taking a weekend trip down to Cornwall once.

However, your relationship with Ona was always different.

She picked you up for trainings first, despite living closer to Ivana. When you had mentioned it, she’d simply said that she liked spending time with you.

Ona never elaborated that she in fact purposely went out of her way to pick you up first. The apartment you lived in was only a ten minute drive to the training grounds and though you insisted you could drive yourself, she had determinedly fetched you in her car every day.

She would then drive the two of you back to Ivana’s before turning back around to drive the three of you to training.

It was all worth it to her, the extra money she spent on gas, the way she woke up earlier in the mornings, just to see you smile when you got into her car. The fifteen minutes spent alone in the car with you, singing along to the music were the highlight of her day.

******

The rest of your teammates had a bet going on, with Katie insisting you would make the first move and Jackie being sure Ona would. Ivana was in on it too, she had tried to get you to talk about your feelings for Ona only for you to refuse. Likewise, Ona had shut her down when she tried to subtly bring up the topic.

She remembers the conversation clearly.

It was one of the few times you weren’t in the car, sitting beside Ona.

Ona had been eager to leave training, citing that she wanted to check on you. You had come down with a mild flu that morning and thus was resting at home.

Ivana laughs, recalling the way Ona had been worried about you all morning.

‘I’m buying soup for her. Do you want anything?’ The Spanish girl had asked, as she stopped by your favourite cafe.

‘No?’

Ona had bought your usual order, having memorised it a long time ago.

‘Hey Ona?’

‘What?’ Ona replied distractedly, focused on driving to your place.

‘Do you ever think about dating?’

‘Not really no. Why?’

‘Is there anyone you would like to date?’

That’s when Ona stops, turning to look at her with a cautious look on her face. She seemed to carefully weigh her answer before she quietly says, ‘No.’

Then she quickly adds, ‘Why are we even talking about this? Can we talk about something else?’

Ivana didn’t say anything more, satisfied with the way Ona’s cheeks flushed the rest of the car ride.

It was answer enough for her.

******

It was inevitable that something would happen really…it was simply a matter of who initiated it.

Anyone with eyes could see that you were head over heels for each other.

It happens during a movie night.

You were over at Ona’s, the two of you taking advantage of having a free weekend to have a sleepover.

Ona has her arm around you, the both of you cuddled under the blanket on her couch. Honestly, you had no idea what was playing, entirely distracted by the way her hand rested on your knee under the blanket.

Still, you did notice the way her eyes weren’t on the television screen but on you.

‘Ona?’ You ask softly, making her lick her lips nervously.

She leans in closer, eyes flicking down to your lips. When you offer no resistance, eyes darting down to her own lips, she closes the tiny distance left, gently brushing her mouth against yours.

You smile and Ona laughs softly.

She reaches out, carefully tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. There’s butterflies in her stomach when you unconsciously chase after her touch.

The both of you have stay still, trying to memorise the moment before you break it.

‘I lied.’

‘What?’

‘When we met, I pretended I didn’t know you and said I only saw you play at Levante once. Truth be told, after the first time I saw you play, I went back to watch you play every week till I left Spain.’ You admit.

Ona inhales sharply, ‘Why?’

You shrug, ‘Because you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and I may have had a crush on you for years now.’

The Spanish girl blushes and you smile at her, making her cheeks even redder.

Eventually, she hides her face in your hoodie and you huff a laugh, bringing your hand up to smooth her hair away from her face. You’d always loved it she wore her hair down

Reaching for the remote, you pause the movie so that your attention is fully on the girl whose head is buried in your chest.

A few moments later she mumbles, ‘You should have said something.’

‘I just did.’

Ona whines, ‘But if you’d told me earlier, I would have kissed you sooner…’

You laugh, ‘Well you can kiss me now? You can kiss me whenever you like.’

Ona settles herself closer, sitting in your lap as she looks at you. You’d never seen her so close before, her eyes were such a pretty shade of brown with little flecks of gold in them.

‘Good. Because I’m going to do just that.’ She says, delicately cupping your face in her hands before connecting your lips with hers once again.

Spanish Translations:

‘¿Cómo te está gustando aquí hasta ahora? - ‘How are you liking it here so far?’

‘Me gusta mucho, tú hablas español?’ - ‘I like it very much, you speak Spanish?’

sí - yes

[shwazzberryswriting]

Moving On

Pairing: Winwin x Original Female Character|Reader Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Romance, Light Angst, Fluff, Slice of Life, Fake Dating Rom Com

Summary: What started out as a simple favor soon turns into a wild weekend

Word count: 21.4k+ (someone take this fic away from me and post it!)

Rating: Mature for Sexual Content, Drinking, Cannabis Consumption (implied), College/University Party Warnings: Fake Dating/Trickery/Lying, Explicit Sexual Content; Smut, Kissing, Drunk Kissing, Nipple Play, Praising, Penis in Vagina Sex, Unprotected Sex (always cover up IRL 💚), Oral (F receiving), Heavy Petting, Creampie, Pussy/Cock Stroking, Slightest Bit of Accidental Dry Humping and Body Groping *Part 11 of my “The NCT Frat House Series”* Author’s Note: Hello, thank you thank you thank you X 3000 for your patience to my readers!!!!! From where this fic started to what it is now...I don't even know how it turned into what it did, but please enjoy!!!! I am so excited to post this fic! ALSO: Victon's Heo Chan has a supporting role in this fic!!

SMUT IN EPILOGUE: I honestly didn't plan for any smut but when I wrote the epilogue I went with the flow

Apologies in advance for any mistakes or shortcomings, this fic was WIP for so long so I'm pretty sure there are things I missed or got wrong! As I do with all of my longer fics, I broke the story up. This one is split up into 3 Chapters and an Epilogue! Please let me know if any of the links aren't working Chapter 1 (Below) | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue ---

Chapter 1

Shiny red and green streamers were lined along in criss-cross patterns in the links of the metal fence to the used car lot, Hearts’ Automotive, making it festive with Christmas spirit. The decorations were unseasonably out of style, but Rhea still hummed “Jingle Bell Rock” as she window shopped. Approaching the main building as her eyes scanned the cars in the lot, she fleetingly daydreamed of jumping into the old red Mazda Miata convertible to drive up to the mountains for some solace.

“Thinking of getting a new car?” she heard a low, gravelly voice ask.

As if appearing from thin air, a man in a short sleeve button up shirt was fixing his spinach colored tie at the collar with one hand while the other dabbed a dull grey handkerchief against his temple. Sweat beads glided down his shiny red face as he held a hand for her to shake.

“We’re having a Spring Blow-Out Sale,” the salesman said as he stuffed his handkerchief into his pants pocket. “You look like an adventurous girl. Why not take your girlfriends on a hike in this 2012 Subaru Outback?”

He pulled out the same grey handkerchief as he stood beside the red Outback that sat next to the Miata Rhea had been admiring. Her stomach curdled as the salesman began wiping the front hood of the car with his handkerchief. She’d barely been able to speak before he moved to the blue Ford Focus behind him.

“I’m wa-”

“-Or daily visits to the mall with your gal pals!” He kicked the front passenger side tire with his stained leather shoes. “You know this baby has good gas mileage. You’ll save on gas as you make your frequent shopping trips.”

“I’m waiting for-” she began before the man interrupted her again.

“-Oh, so you’re waiting for your dad! Of course!” The salesman’s neck collar was yellowing, damp with sweat. “While we wait for the old man to arrive, why don’t you tell me what sort of car dear old dad wants for you?”

Glancing at the way the salesman was subtly shifting his weight from one leg to the other, she had a feeling he would continue to hover. If Sid ever showed up, she was going to kill him. Frustrated that her brother could never show up on time, Rhea looked around for a way out.

“Babe!” Rhea called out immediately as she saw a familiar face exit the front doors of the dealership building, right behind the sweat-ridden salesman. His thick eyebrows and full pink lips always stood out to her, making his handsome face give off a boyish innocence that contrasted with his broad shoulders and tall stature. It was difficult to mistake him with just any stranger. “Sicheng! Babe!”

She rushed past the salesman, and walked under the shade of the building. Grabbing the hand of her diner waiter, she leaned over to whisper a quick, “Please help me get rid of this guy,” before pecking a kiss on his cheek. He jumped a little, but looked over at the salesman before turning to look at Rhea.

“Can you tell this gentleman we’re not buying a car?” she asked clearly when their eyes locked. Pressing her lips together, she prayed that the man who’d served her onion rings for years would play along. The thin line between his eyebrows uncreased, and he squared his shoulders as he looked at the wide eyed salesman.

“Good afternoon, sir, I’m-”

“-We’re not interested,” Sicheng said immediately. He gripped onto her hand firmly, leading them past the salesman.

“Thanks,” she said softly as she let go of his hand.

He glanced over their backs before throwing his arm over her shoulders. She felt the sun’s rays blaring onto her scalp, her dark curls absorbing the heat as his jawline tightened. She’d never considered what Sicheng’s body would feel like, but with her body pressed against his side her mind blanked, shocked at how firm his arm felt draped over her shoulders.

“That dude’s still staring,” he said.

She felt a hard thump in her chest, similar to the time she caught her falling bookbag and Tolstoy’s “War and Peace” slammed against her cleavage so hard she almost fainted. Face hot like a sun soaked leather covered car seat, she was speechless as they walked out of the lot. She had to stop thinking about how long it had been since a man had held her for longer than a couple seconds.

“Thanks,” she said once they were walking away from the lot, crossing the street. They stopped together at the bus stop. “You have no idea how much you helped me out.”

He nodded, sitting down on the green painted metal bench meant for bus riders. She worried that he wanted to be rid of her as he remained quiet, glancing down at his watch as his eyes were nearly shut tight, squinting from the sun’s rays hitting his face. After all, if he’d come up to her to ask her to help him, she would have…she didn’t know what she would have done.

Feeling like an idiot for having put him in an impossible situation, she licked her lips, trying to find the right words to apologize. Before she could even clear her throat, he threw his hand up to shade his eyes, giving her a half grin as the left side of his lips curved upwards.

“Rhea,” he said, “you always tip 25% and your usual order is coffee and onion rings.”

“Is that how you remember your regulars?” she asked, sitting beside him. The tension in her chest loosened when he smiled. “Our tips and orders?”

“More or less.”

“It’s weird to see you outside of Nectar,” she said, referring to the diner that Sicheng worked at. She couldn’t recall the first time she met him, but they’d only ever existed together at Nectar before. And strictly as waiter and patron. “So um, are you here to buy a car?”

“No,” he replied, holding up a white paper bag in his hand. “One of my friends works here, so he gives us discounts on car parts.”

“What kind of car do you have?”

“This is for one of my other friends. His front headlight is dead, and I offered to help pick up the replacement.”

“You can fix cars?” she asked, sitting up straight. Her chest felt light knowing that she could keep talking to him about cars. “My brother’s a car enthusiast, too.”

“I know a little here and there,” he said with a shrug. Her eyes fell to his hand falling down to his side as he set the bag down. “Why were you visiting Hearts’ Auto?”

“I need a car,” she replied. Looking up, her eyes followed his gaze. “HEART’S AUTOMOTIVE” was written in bold acid tripping neon green letters against a matte black billboard at the top of the main building to the used car lot. “My brother was supposed to meet me here to help me buy a car. He didn’t show up.”

“Who’s your brother? Does he eat at Nectar?”

“He went to Berkeley,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “He would never step into Nectar or anything affiliated with our university. I don’t know if you know my brother, Sid? I think he said he had a friend connected to Heart’s.”

“Wait, Sid,” Sicheng said, resting his hands behind him on the bench, “Sid has the blue 2004 Toyota Celica, right?”

“You know about his Celica?” she replied, picking up her legs to cross in front of her. “Did you know he sacrificed his summer break saving up for it?”

“He told me about how he worked as a waiter at your aunt’s restaurant.”

“Please,” she said with a head shake, “I was there. I don’t need to hear that story again. So you’ve seen his precious Celica?”

“Yuta and Kun helped him fix the alignment on his front axles. Kun works at Heart’s. Have you met Kun or Yuta?”

“They sound familiar,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. Was Yuta the soccer jock a former roommate tried hooking up with a couple years ago? “I don’t really hang out with Sid and his car enthusiast friends. When did you meet my brother?”

“He brought the Celica to our house last summer.”

“Wait a minute,” she said, holding up a hand in the air, “my brother's visited the NCT frat house?”

She laughed when he nodded, another half a grin growing on his face. His boyish smile was charming, she realized, because the apples of his cheeks popped out and turned the slightest shade of pink. Clearing her throat, she stifled her laughs before speaking again.

“So much for never going where I go,” she said with a snort.

“You’ve been to my place?” he asked with raised eyebrows. He sat up straight.

“I’ve been to a few parties,” she said, feeling her cheeks grow warm. Rhea knew she wasn’t a social butterfly, but she had enough friends to get invitations to the NCT Frat parties. “I’m sorry if I was stepping into your territory.”

“How come I’ve never seen you?” he asked, his half grin returning, though his eyes were moving to the ground. Her hands fisted into her jeans when he glanced up at her. Sicheng's overbite was noticeable when he gave a full on smile, adding to its charm. “It would have been wild to play Beer Pong against my best tipper.”

“I’m your best tipper?” she asked, surprised. Most of her orders were under $10 given that she went to Nectar to snack on onion rings while she studied. “Do you have a chart of your customers’ tips?”

The top of his ears turned red, and she felt her cheeks grow hot once more with a bright smile refusing to disappear. She covered her smile by throwing her hands over her mouth. She wanted to ask him half a dozen questions, mostly wondering why he suddenly seemed so shy, but she realized she was afraid of stuttering if she were to open her mouth.

“Winwin?” a woman in a red hoodie was waving her hand as she looked at Sicheng. She stood right before them on the bench.

He sat up straight and threw his arm over Rhea’s shoulders, his fingers gripping onto her arm. His body felt rigid as she uncrossed her legs to straighten herself up. Their eyes met for a second, and she knew he was asking her to play along with him.

“Wen! Hey!” he said loudly, the cheerful tone almost as fake as their relationship. “Rhea, this is Wen. She’s friends with Kun’s girlfriend. Wen, this is Rhea, my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend!” Wen’s eyebrows raised and her mouth hung open for a solid five seconds before she shut her mouth. Squaring her shoulders, she glanced at Rhea with her lips pressed together before looking back at Sicheng. “That was kind of rude of you not to tell me.”

“Why?” he asked, pulling Rhea closer to him. Between the sun and his body, Rhea’s body was too hot for comfort. Her neck was starting to sweat. “I found out through Yuta that you began dating Mike-”

“-It’s nice to meet you, Wen,” Rhea said, holding her hand out to Wen. “I’m Rhea. Sicheng was so sweet to come with me to pick up a lightbulb for my car.”

“Rhea?” Wen said with a soft tone, shaking her hand with a gentle grasp. Eyes squinting for a moment, she scanned Rhea’s face. “Didn’t you model at the university fall fashion show with that gold showstopper gown?”

“Oh - no,” she said, feeling her face grow hot, sweat suddenly forming at her temples. Not only was she lying to a stranger about Sicheng being her boyfriend, but her five seconds of viral fame with her real exboyfriend was haunting her months later. “No, like, my-um...Chan, you know Heo Chan? He was modeling for his friend and like, it was a joke. It was during his rehearsals and Hanse posted it on Instagram but I didn’t model during the actual show.”

“Wow, Winwin,” Wen said as her eyes shifted to Sicheng, “your rebound is a model? What the fuck was I to you?”

Before Rhea could register whether or not Wen was insulting her, Sicheng scoffed, and squeezed her arm gently.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, squaring his shoulders. “You broke up with me. Three weeks after we broke up you went out on a date with Mike. The guy you swore was too stupid to know how to tell time.”

“It was just a date,” Wen replied. She squared her shoulders again. “I actually have a date with my new boyfriend tonight! Care to join?”

“Why not?” Sicheng spoke up, tilting his chin up. “Text me the restaurant and time, and we’ll be there."

“Fine,” Wen said, picking up her phone. “I hope you like GT Steakhouse.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Sicheng said with a scoff, a sharp, low “tsk” sliced through the air.

She’d never seen Sicheng be anything but polite or tired, so she felt numb watching him be so expressive. It was like a black and white picture turned into a fully colored feature length movie. The dull features of a simple, pleasant sight transforming into a colorful piece of art, full of wonder and much more depth than a mere snapshot could ever grasp.

“We need to go,” Rhea said as the giant white and blue public bus came into view. “Don’t forget the bag, Sicheng.”

“Thanks, Rhea,” he said as his ears turned bright red. He met her gaze and she read the fear in his eyes as sweat glided down the side of his face.

Making sure she wasn’t still watching then, Rhea glanced at Wen furiously tapping her thumbs onto the screen of her phone, her tendrils falling over her forehead as a gentle breeze passed. Her eyebrows were creased together and her pink stained lips were curved into a frown. They didn’t exchange farewells as Sicheng let go of Rhea so she could get onto the bus before him. Once they were seated at the only unoccupied pair of seats at the front, Sicheng ran his hands over his eyes and he threw his back against his seat.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, shaking his head as he threw his hand down. “I’ll tell her you broke up with me so she wins. Dinner’s canceled.”

Eyes downcast, staring at his lap, Sicheng’s eyelashes curved upwards beautifully as Rhea looked at him. She was used to the contemplative frown paired with the thick, long eyelashes. At Nectar though, she’d never cared to think of the context behind such a sad expression.

“What did she win?”

He met her gaze, the frown remaining. She gave him a smile, hoping he knew she meant him no harm. Showing teeth was too expressive, so she kept her mouth shut.

“She’s the one who moved on first and moved on better,” he replied. “It’s stupid right?”

She shook her head, clasping her hands together. Trying to get a car was her big girl moment. Chan had driven her to work and picked her up when they had dated. It took 2 months of waking up early and arriving home late to wear her down enough to ask Sid to help her find a car. Instead of a new car, she’d gotten herself a frat boy as her fake boyfriend.

“Heo Chan got the shoot manager position at Vogue Japan,” she said, turning to look at his face. His blank stare made her smile. “Chan’s my exboyfriend. Anyway, he spent months applying and interviewing for that job. He told me that he’d let me know if he got it. I found out from my brother congratulating him on Instagram. So…”

Her smile disappeared as she recalled how her stomach tightened into a rock when she realized Chan had moved on from her. Sure, they hadn’t spoken since the day they broke up, but they’d agreed that they’d be too busy to communicate. Then again, he had promised that even if they were broken up, he would tell her if he got the job he’d been wanting for months. She bit back her tears, regretting the thought of Chan.

“Why was your ex calling you ‘Winwin?’” she asked, turning her body in toward his. She stopped when she realized their knees were about to touch, her fingers digging into the strap of her purse as her heartbeat quickened. She’d never been so shy about being near him before.

“It’s a nickname,” he replied. “A lot of people call me Winwin, but Sicheng’s my real name. Call me whatever you want. I think my name today is Loselose.”

His voice was faint, his eyes unfocused as he looked at the ground. She gave a small chuckle, getting him to look up at her. A smile broke out as his round cheeks rose high and he gave a small guffaw.

Sicheng had helped her escape the relentless salesman. If he had to admit defeat to his ex it meant she hadn’t returned the favor. At what other point in her life would she and Sicheng have to pretend to be a couple in which she’d be doing him the favor? And if she was to be completely honest, she’d had a lot of fun playing his girlfriend in front of Wen. She liked the more complex version of Sicheng.

“Let’s go on the double date,” she said, tapping her knee against his for a second. Their eyes met, his mouth hanging open. “You’re moving on so much better, because I’ve been the perfect girlfriend.” She tapped his chin with a finger, and laughed when he closed his mouth. “Let her know that your rebound model girlfriend has made you so much happier.”

Her stop was approaching, so she stood, and he followed her. They got off together as he stared around, seeming to take in his surroundings. She walked toward the street light that led to the pearl pink painted apartment complex across the street. It was behind a park where she took her morning runs. At that moment, the park was occupied by a handful of kids climbing on the slide and monkey bars with their caretakers watching nearby.

“Did you get off at the wrong stop?” she asked as Sicheng walked beside her.

“No,” he said immediately, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. He looked at the ground for a moment. “We’re going to need to get our story straight. When did we meet? How long have we been going out? What are your likes or dislikes? Because what if I order us shrimp and you’re allergic?”

“Have you done this before?”

“What makes you say that?”

He’d stopped walking, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. She heard the paper bag crinkle in his pocket.

“You’re telling me we have to get our story straight,” she replied. “I didn’t even think to do that, but it makes complete sense. I mean, when did we start dating?”

He shrugged, glancing around the street.

“Is there a place where we can get coffee or tea?” he asked. “We should drink as we hatch this plot.”

-

White grains scattered across the small round table as Sicheng tore open the pink packet of sugar. They had the last table outside with an umbrella, which Rhea appreciated. Her scalp itched when it became too hot, and her focus couldn’t wander since she and Sicheng were in the middle of an unplanned scheme. His rough handling of a packet of sugar was tempting her patience as her mind wanted to roll into the gutter.

“How long have you been broken up?” Rhea asked, forcing her eyes to look up to his face. He was completely focused on mixing his coffee concoction. “Chan and I broke up almost 4 months ago, so when would be a good window for us to have started dating?”

“Wen and I broke up 3 months ago,” he replied, mixing his drink with a wooden stirring stick. After sipping his coffee, he set the mug down. “You and I have been dating for just over a month.”

“You said it so casually even I believed it.”

The apples of his cheeks flushed as he guffawed, reminding her of the last time she’d seen him before Heart’s Auto. His face had been red like a maraschino cherry when he had given her a hot basket of onion rings. She’d noticed because a few sweat beads from his face had landed onto her notebook, staining her doodles. The marigold chain on the outside corner of her notebook had wrinkled into squiggly lines with Sicheng’s sweat.

“I asked you out the last time I visited Nectar,” she said. “You gave me the onion rings for free, so I felt compelled to ask you out.”

“Oh shit, it was because I ruined that drawing you’d been working on.” She smiled, teeth showing, appreciative that he’d remembered that day too. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m your girlfriend now, I think we’ve gone past you having to apologize for that.”

He grinned and she returned the smile. As they drank silently together, Rhea noticed how Sicheng squared his shoulders as he sat up straight, putting his mug down before he looked at her. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“I can get a couple of friends to play along with the ruse,” he said. “Wen’s going to ask why I haven’t shared my girlfriend with our friends.”

She nodded. Unlike him, she had never been good at remaining friends with exes and the mutual friends that had come with the relationship. Why keep company around who all were extensions of the person who broke her heart?

After the split with Chan, all their mutual friends constantly updated her on how sad Chan was, as if the sad feelings would be enough to convince them to get back together. Eventually, it was easier to work more, study harder, and start research on what would make for a good car to purchase for the first time than try to balance out a safe distance between her friends and Chan.

“You still talk to each other’s friends?” she asked as her index finger slid onto the table, collecting tiny grains of sugar under her finger. She was creating a line, pointing toward him.

“We were friends before we began dating. We only dated for like, 6 months, but we’ve known each other for a couple years.”

“Why did you break up?”

“She wanted to go to Coachella and I wanted to roadtrip to Austin for our first trip together. There was more to it, but…we were such good friends. We didn’t make a good couple, though.” He cleared his throat, causing Rhea to stop her finger on the table, her eyes drifting up to meet his gaze. “What about your history? Why’d you break up with your ex?”

“We were talking about getting an apartment together because my lease was ending,” she replied, her eyes returning to her finger. She pushed the grains of sugar under her finger off the ledge of the table, swerving left, before placing her hands into her lap. “But Chan was worried about the potential job in Japan. And then I want to stay here because I still don’t know what grad schools I should apply to next year. So like, yeah, we were both realizing that life wasn’t going to be us forever.”

“How long did you date?” he asked.

“A little under a year and a half,” she replied. Afraid that he’d start grilling her about the finer details of her breakup, she asked, “So if we’re dating, are you the type to hold hands? If you want Wen to be jealous we can hold hands. I don’t mind cheek kissing, hand kissing is actually really sweet,” - she paused as she noticed the tips of his ears turning red - “but we can just call each other babe or something.”

“No,” he said, sitting up straight. “Um, yeah, we can hold hands. If things get awkward, just kiss me on the cheek and I’ll know that means you want to leave. With you and Chan, was it a bad breakup? Who was the one to call it off?”

“He broke up with me. I knew it was coming, but,” she paused, feeling her throat dry up as she finally picked up her cup of coffee and took a large gulp of her milk and sugar heavy coffee. “So like, before we leave to get ready for dinner with Wen, we’ve been dating for a little over a month right?”

“Yes.”

“Are we the type of couple that calls each other babe?”

“No,” he replied, firm and clear. “I don’t like pet names. Should I pick you up for the date?”

“How about I come to your place and we leave together from there? I'm familiar with how to get to your house, but not with how to find GT Steakhouse.”

They exchanged phone numbers, and she made sure to save Sicheng’s number with a heart emoji to get herself into the role of his girlfriend. Walking home, she decided that she was going to play the role of a girlfriend who was head over heels infatuated with Sicheng. It was clear that his breakup with Wen had been tense. As long as the dinner ended on a good note for him, Rhea would consider it a favor returned in full.

--

Chapter 2

[dameronology]

you have my number {bucky barnes x reader}

summary: bucky barnes' memory is a little selective, thanks to all the brainwashing - but one thing he'll never forget is his love for you, even if you're a complete & utter pain in the ass. his ass. (based on deja vu by olivia rodigro)

^even tho this fic refers to bucky as having a new gf, the reader is still g.n :)

this is spoiler free! enjoyyy

- jazz xx

Your relationship with Bucky Barnes had been nothing short of a train wreck.

And frankly, that was putting it nicely.

It had been a short & passionate affair; intense and sweet and filled with so much emotion in such high concentrations that you'd both almost drowned in it. For every euphoric moment, there had been one so low that you'd scraped your knees on the ground. Climbing a ladder to heaven whilst simultaneously digging your own graves had taken its toll on you both, and eventually, you had no choice but to go your separate ways. It had been for your own sanity, really.

So there he was, tucked away in a neat little box in your brain, labelled don't touch, ever. Even when you were completely wasted, surrounded by your friends and their respective lovers, you never dared to venture back down that particular memory lane. Forgetting all the bad parts and selectively remembering the good parts was easy enough to do, but you had the common sense to remember why you'd broken up in the first place. Because Bucky Barnes, despite being easy on the eyes and having a charming sense of humour, was a pain in your fucking ass. He managed to press every one of your buttons without even trying and his ability to bring out the best in you was completely and entirely wiped out by his tendency to bring out the worst. That wasn't even getting started on his emotional hold-ups; a can of worms neither of you had dared to open until it became the very reason for your demise.

Six months had passed, and you'd managed to expertly avoid him. You worked different missions and Sam Wilson, god bless his sweet soul, went the extra mile to ensure your paths never crossed in a professional sense. On a personal level, however? That was a little more difficult. New York City felt a lot smaller after your break up. You found yourself occasionally ducking under your hood when you saw him on the F-train, or rushing to cross the road when you saw him coming towards you on the street.

That was when you had the whole city to lose yourself in; streets and shops and little food carts to distract yourself with should you need to. Being confined to the same room for a work party was a different story entirely, and one you didn't want to read. Yet, thanks to some insistence from your boss and a little grovelling from your colleagues, you found yourself rocking up to the former Avengers tower on a Friday night.

"So you do exist outside of your work uniform?" Sam Wilson greeted you with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah - nice to see you too, Wilson."

Despite your initial attempts to elbow him in the rips, he wrestled you off of him and pulled you into a tight hug. Sam was one of your favourite colleagues and oldest friends - he'd witnessed the rise and fall of your relationship with Bucky, and been there for you both during the break-up. That had been an exhausting few days, running between your respective apartments in an attempt to offer emotional support to you both.

"D'you want some champagne?" He asked.

"I'm good, but thank-"

You froze, eyes widening at the sight of James Barnes across the room. He looked quintessentially the same, bar for the fact his hair was a little longer and he had a fresh, pink scar under his left eye. Having ditched his usual attire for a black blazer, he looked good. Annoyingly so, in fact. It made you secretly grateful that you'd chosen to dress up a little more than usual too.

"- on second thoughts." You took the flute of champagne from Sam, also grabbing a shot of vodka from the same trey. It was gone in seconds.

"Need I ask?" Sam gave you a playful frown. His brown eyes followed your gaze over his shoulder, landing on the man you'd been staring at. "Ah. I need not."

"Sorry." You murmured. "We haven't actually spoken since, y'know."

"Since you had a break-up that made Ross and Rachel look good?"

"I don't think Bucky has ever seen Friends." You quipped.

"His loss." Sam shrugged. "You should talk to him."

"Nope." You snorted. "Absolutely not. I don't even know if he's moved on."

"Judging by the pretty blonde on his arm, I think he has," Sam replied. "Would you look at that! They're headed right for us."

That was a lot of information to process at once. You would have needed a week alone for your poor, tired brain to deal with the fact that Bucky had someone else on his arm, and a further three days to big yourself up enough to talk to him. Alas, that was not the case tonight. Instead, you had about five seconds between Sam finishing his sentence and your ex-boyfriend reaching you. It was just as well you found the energy within that timeframe to down your champagne.

You could see the woman on his arm clearer now. To give credit where credit was due, she stunning. She looked like the sort of girl who smelt of strawberries and Chanel, and grew her own vegetables on the fire escape. The kind of person you swore to be with every New Year that came, but quickly ditched after a week, returning to drinking coffee from the Starbucks under your apartment rather than going to the organic, vegan place a few blocks over. There was an ethereal glow about her and fuck. You were mad.

"Sam!" Bucky called out to his friend - for a minute, you thought he was ignoring you, before you realised he genuinely didn't recognise you. Your name rolled off his tongue with a tone of uncertainty, as though he was learning a new language and still learning how to pronounce things. "Wow. You look...different."

"So do you." You shot back. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Katie." He awkwardly smiled. "My...my girlfriend."

"It's nice to meet you." You forced an equally pained grin, taking her hand in a shake.

"How do you and Bucky know each other?" She asked.

"Work." Bucky quickly said. You thinned your eyes at him, almost in disbelief.

"So you're an Avenger like these two?" Katie asked, clearly not picking up on the tension. "That's so cool."

"Not in an official capacity." You replied. "But they'd be fucked without me."

--

The night only got longer from there, really.

There wasn't enough champagne in the world to help the void in your soul. It was a gaping wound that Bucky Barnes had both filled and widened - and tonight, he was doing the latter. It sounded as though him and Katie were having a grand ol' time of it. From the parts of the conversation that you'd actually bothered to listen to, you'd gathered that she'd arrived in New York from London just over three months ago. That meant she had a fucking accent. Of course she did. It made everything she said a thousand times more interesting.

"We were in Paris, in this little cafe. What was it called, babe? Maison de vie?"

"Maison de l'amour, doll." Bucky corrected her. It had only sounded right when he was calling you that.

Your eyes shot up from your drink, immediately staring daggers at them both. The slimy bastard. You had been the one to show him that place. You'd been in Paris for a mission, and after realising it was your four-month anniversary, you'd taken him there for pancakes. It had been a slow morning, filled with hazy eyes and pink skies, and it had ended with him dropping the L-bomb for the first time. The photo you'd taken of Bucky, sat beside a pile of pancakes the same size of him and with whipped cream on his chin, had been your phone background until the day you broke up.

"I've been there." You didn't break away from his gaze, holding cold blue eyes in a trance that he found to be almost suffocating.

"Oh, nice!" Katie beamed. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah." You sniffed. "The company was shit, though."

"Oh, man." She replied. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's not your fault." You gave her a sweet smile - to Bucky, it was a look of venom. "So, tell me more about your trip to Paris."

He quickly cleared his throat. "We didn't do much. Just a weekend getaway-"

"- are you forgetting that we saw Billy Joel?" Katie cut him off with a laugh. "The Billy Joel!"

"Right." It looked as though his mouth had gone completely dry.

"He told me he loved me for the first time to Uptown Girl-"

"-excuse me for a moment." You shoved your glass in her hand, before backing away from your little huddle.

Your brain was focused on getting away and only on getting away. The room suddenly felt a thousand times hotter, and a thousand times smaller too, as though the walls were closing in on you. Maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if they'd just collapsed around you and swallowed you fucking whole. Anything to get away from this situation.

Making a beeline for the balcony doors, you elbowed them open and stepped outside. The cold air of the rooftop gardens was a welcome contrast to the stuffy indoors, biting, night air hitting your face like an icy hug. The sounds of the city rung below you - sirens and yells and tourists - and tangled into the faint sound of the music, all parts of a world that your brain was working overtime to block out.

You focused on the city instead, using the bright lights of the surrounding buildings to anchor you to reality. None of it really even made sense - you were over Bucky. Had been for a long time. It was just the thought of him doing all the things that he'd done with you, with someone else. It made you feel a little bad for Katie, too.

"I was going to tell you about Billy Joel."

You glanced over your shoulder, giving a derivative snort. "Piss off, Bucky."

"I'm serious." He ignored your demand, cautiously approaching you.

"I brought you those tickets!" You turned around to face him. "We were meant to go together. Billy Joel was our thing."

"We broke up!' He reminded you. "Like I said, I was going to tell you that we went together-"

"- I don't care." You cut him off. "I genuinely don't care."

"That was a lot of storming off for someone who doesn't care."

"Okay, maybe I care a little bit." You huffed, taking a seat on a bench. "It's not even that you're with someone else, it's that you're doing all the things we did. The nicknames, the pancake place, the concert."

"I..." Bucky took a seat beside you, pondering for a moment.

"And declaring your love for someone to Uptown Girl is fucking weird." You muttered.

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

"Vienna, obviously."

"You're such a pain in the ass." Bucky replied. "But for what it's worth, I wasn't thinking of Katie in that moment."

You glanced up at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"D'you remember that morning when we were in New Orleans?" He asked. "And we had a few hours to kill before our flight, so you started dancing around the hotel room to Uptown Girl?"

"I remember." You softly smiled.

"That was when I realised I loved you." He admitted. "I was replaying that in my head at the concert, and it just kinda came out, and Katie heard."

"Damn." You muttered. "Sucks to be her, huh?"

"I like Katie." He said. "Truth be told, doll, I'm still stuck in the past a little bit. With you, and with what we had."

"We fucking hated each other by the end, Buck."

"I know, but I mean all the stuff before that." He explained. "You were the first person who saw me for who I am and not what I've done. The first person that actually made me feel loved and worthy."

"I do try."

He lightly elbowed you "I'm serious. I think I'm just projecting my longing for what we had onto my current relationship."

"You're being painfully honest tonight." You observed. "It's fucking weird."

"Who taught me to be painfully honest?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "So this is how Frankenstein felt when he created his monster."

"You're the worst," Bucky muttered. "I genuinely am sorry, though. I shouldn't be recycling our memories. I should make new ones.'

Dusting off your trousers, you stood up. "You're right."

"Thank you, though."

"For what?"

"For finding me first," He replied, "and for teaching me what love is."

"Well, if you ever need to be reminded? You have my number."

[will-on-the-internet]

Festive Delights | Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Hotch has always loved Christmas, and while wrapping up presents for your various loved ones, he finally explains why, and you might just fall in love a little more.

Word Count:

Genre: Christmas, Festive, Fluff, Romance

Warnings: If you don't like Christmas then this piece might not be for you! Also drinking, sharp things!

A/N: This is a request for @gay-prentiss! Thank you for requesting Nat, and I hope you love it. Requests ARE open so be sure to send one through my ask box if you want me to write something, open to all!

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Christmas has always been Aaron’s favourite holiday. Even as a small child with a tyrannical father and a mother who was often absent, Aaron longed for Christmas morning, when his dysfunctional family would act as normal as possible, sitting near the Christmas tree to rip open presents, eating a massive meal for lunch and taking part in carol singing at the local church. Christmas, and December as a whole, was the only month that his parents made an effort to behave around Aaron and Shaun. And even Aaron grew up and went to boarding school, he always looked forward the Christmas, because it meant seeing Shaun and watching the wondrous fascination all children have towards Christmas.

And now Hotch is older, a father himself to a small child, and even though the world did everything it could to rip away the joy that Aaron still clutched on to, he still enjoyed Christmas, especially now when there were no bickering parents around. This year though, this year Christmas was special because it was his first Christmas with you, the person he promised to share his life with only six months ago at a wedding in Rossi’s backyard.

To you, Christmas wasn’t a big deal. Sure, you’ll buy the presents, eat the food and sing some of the tunes, but you never truly went into the effort of decorating for Christmas or baking all the treats that Jack Hotchner longed for. But now it was different because suddenly, the lounge room had an eight-foot-tall Christmas tree sitting in the corner, adorned with handmade and bought ornaments, lengths of glittering tinsel and twinkling lights that shone against the glass of the windows in the room.

You knew how much Christmas meant to your Hotchner boys, especially after the death of Haley, and even though you weren’t used to all the decorations and traditions that came with Aaron and Jack, you could never say no when they suggested something new. So when Aaron dragged you along on a day of Christmas shopping for Jack and the team, you could only roll your eyes before he was helping you off the couch and pulling you out the door.

Aaron had a knack for buying gifts. He always downplayed it, said it was nothing, but you knew when he picked out gifts for his loved ones, he knew exactly what they’d want and what they’d love. He didn’t hesitate on buying Garcia a four-set of gaudy ceramic mugs he knew she’d love, even after the shop assistant stared at him like he was crazy, or when he dropped a good amount of money on an old hardcover manuscript for Reid that Hotch knew he’d been after for months but could never find.

And when the two of you finally came home from your shopping trip, arms laden with bags from various stores and legs exhausted from the walking (in your case because Aaron was very much used to being on his feet all day), suddenly there was wrapping to be done, with Christmas carols in the back and mulled wine to drink.

“And here I thought setting up the Christmas tree was the only big operation in the Hotchner Christmas traditions.” Aaron laughs from the kitchen, pulling two mugs from the cupboard (ones he called the “mulled wine Christmas mugs”) and shakes his head fondly.

“Oh trust me, this is nothing, when my mother shopped for my brother and I, she made it a full weekend event. No one was allowed into the formal living room because she invaded it with all her wrapping bits and various presents.” You chuckled at the idea of Susan Hotchner sitting on her grand sofa with wrapping paper and ribbons surrounding her, and though the image seemed odd for a woman who seemed so stern and unattached, at the same time you knew the memory meant a lot to Aaron. “Now though, I just try and do it on a day I don’t have Jack, means I don’t have to hide in my office “doing work” while I’m trying to wrap up his presents and keep him distracted with the Polar Express.” You nod, taking the cup of wine he handed you before turning to the task at hand.

“So, how shall we do this? Should we split it half and half? Or you take Jack’s presents and I do the team, and we do our respective families?” You watched Aaron ponder for a moment, and you fiddled with the record player, turning the music down slightly so it was mellow in the background.

“You do Jack and I’ll do the team, and then the rest can be done by whoever. Jack can read your writing, so it’d probably be best if you did his.” You smiled in agreement, dividing the presents together and picking up the wrapping paper you wanted to use for Jack. It was green and gold, with shiny penguins and red wreaths covering it. Aaron had picked it out especially for his son, because after he’d been to the aquarium with his school, Jack had come home obsessed with penguins. Hence the kids book filled with penguin facts that you were about to wrap for him.

The two of you sat quietly across from each other on the loungeroom floor, soft carpet against sweat pants covered legs and socked feet. It was peaceful, and for a while, you got lost in the repetitive sound of scissors against the paper, the cutting of tape and the noise of a ballpoint pen against Christmas card.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen someone ever put so much effort into making their Christmas perfect for those around them. I mean, I’m used to the food and the lights and the songs, but, our family never goes all out with the decorations everywhere, or presents and stockings.” Aaron listened closely, looking over at you as he placed another wrapped present underneath the tree. “Why do you do it, Aaron?”

Aaron didn’t answer for a while, and you nearly thought he hadn’t heard you. But then he shrugged and leaned against the front of the couch, legs spread out before him, gaze flicking between you and the tree.

“I guess, it’s partly because I’ve always wanted Christmas to be important, for people to enjoy it as much as I did as a kid, with Haley and Jack, and hopefully with you.” You feel your cheeks warm at that, and you take a break in the wrapping to move closer to him, his arm lazily wrapping around your shoulders to bring you in towards his body. “Christmas is a time for family, a time to be around loved ones and cherish what you have. And, since Shaun went to prison and Haley died, I think I’ve realised that even though I love Christmas for all the material things, I love it more because it’s the only time I feel like I’m not obligated to work. It just feels easier to take a break than it does at any other time of the year.” You nod in understanding, already knowing that your husband has issues with prioritising family over his job.

“Well, I think it’s lovely. Sure, it’s a little overwhelming for me because I’m not used to it, but I like seeing you like this.” Aaron’s eyebrow quirks up slightly as an answer to your statement, urging you to go on as you run a hand through his hair, which had grown abnormally long for the man. “You’re happier, more relaxed, you’re not running on a sense of urgency that seems to hang around you sometimes. Hell, you’ve barely looked at your work phone when it’s not a weekday, and you’ve chosen over and over to do things with Jack instead of going to your office to work on files. I’m not saying you’re a workaholic because I know you’re not, even if the team and Jessica disagrees. But it is nice to see you more, I dunno, in the moment when you’re home.” Hotch nods slowly, resting his head against your shoulder as he relaxes into your touch.

“Jack is really excited about this Christmas, you know? He’s apparently been talking about it at school, and Penelope told me that all he wanted to do at her house last week was make paper chains to decorate her living room.” You huff out a laugh at that, remembering the photo Penelope sent you of Jack being wrapped up in the paper chains, a cheeky grin on his face.

“He has been talkative about Santa recently, kept asking me if he could stay up on Christmas eve to catch the old fella.” Hotch grinned at that, shaking his head in fondness for his son.

“Oh god, can you imagine? He can barely make it past eight pm before falling asleep.” Aaron picked up another present and the two of you turned back to the wrapping, still leaning against each other.

“Oh I know, but he’s got that Hotchner determination, just like his papa. Now come on, it’s getting dark and Spencer said he’d be back with Jack at seven. We gotta get the rest of the gifts wrapped before either of them see.” Aaron pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head before passing you the tape and exchanging it for a roll of red ribbon, wrapping a strand of it around a present for Jessica, a new book she wanted from her favourite author.

The rest of the evening before Jack came back was a mess of paper and tape, and with only ten minutes to spare before he came home with Spencer to drop him off, the gifts were wrapped, tucked under the lit tree, and you had collapsed against Aaron on the couch, fingers exhausted.

“Well, sweetheart, that was a pretty successful gift day, if I do say so myself. I only need a couple more hours on Saturday and then I’ll be done my shopping.” You look up at him, a look of confusion covering your face for a moment before he explains. “I need to get you something, of course! I couldn’t do it today because you were with me.” You smile at him, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips and lean your forehead against his.

“Oh, and what are you planning to get me?” He shakes his head, a glee filled smile gracing his features before there’s a knock on the door and he’s pulling away to open it, but lingering for a moment to whisper in your ear.

“That’s another thing I love about Christmas, the countless surprises on Christmas morning.” And then he was walking away, opening the door to Spencer and Jack, a coy smile playing on your husband’s lips as he speaks to Spencer and Jack bounds into your lap.

This was December, this was Christmas, and though it was all bright and shiny and new to you, with your Hotchner boys, it was perfect.

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Tagging people on my taglist, and people I think might enjoy: @spookydrreid @gay-prentiss @clarawatson @wasteland-bvby @cacoetheswriting @altsvu @reidingmelodies @rigatonireid @averyhotchner @reidology @thank-the-lord @courtneyapua @art-and-thoughts @peachpitfics @lizzarooni @lady-loves-a-lot @lumosemily @spacedikut @spencerreid9 @flipperpenguins @reidyoulikeabook @ssamorganhotchner @randomwriter1021 @meganskane @matthewgraygublerlover @hotchner-clemmons @ssahotchswife @haley-h0tchner @scuttling @hotchley