#the most I have is maybe a somewhat bird inspired design as a nod to ena but idk if Im feeling it enough to commit :/

[damoreyunho]

Vol1 Ch1: Lights

It was a late summer's day, the blue sky above was dotted with white cotton clouds, and Hongjoong sat peacefully on a bench watching the world around him. He watched a flock of pigeons make a fuss over a piece of bread and his eyes followed them as one bird fled with it, the others following, not far behind. He could hear the laughter of families playing with their kids in the open areas of the park. From further away a faint barking sounded from the pet-friendly zone. The air was warm but not hot. A soft little breeze blew past him and some lonely strands of his hair wavered along with it.

It was the last week before summer break ended and everyone were out and about trying to make the best of their remaining free time. The city was bustling with activity as most had already returned home from their vacations. From within the park Hongjoong could barely hear the city noise. Only vaguely if he tried hard enough. On the other hand he could definitely still see it. The city. Beyond the large trees outlining the park rose tall high rise buildings. Some would probably even be considered skyscrapers. The sun's reflection on the glass covered buildings made him squint as he looked up. He closed his eyes for a moment, observing the imprints which the bright light had left in his eyes, before opening them again.

Hongjoong got up, did a little stretch and was about to move on when he noticed something. Or was it actually someone? Crouched beside a flower bed was a young man, probably around the same age as himself. His hair was ash grey with the comma style and an undercut. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and black jeans. An also black jacket was slung over his left arm.

Hongjoong approached the stranger and stood a little off to one side tilting his head slightly in attempt to see what the other was looking at. He eventually noticed Hongjoong's shadow and stood up. He was quite a bit taller than Hongjoong, but who wasn't taller than him. The eyes of the other were a beautiful smoky grey and it was obvious that his hair color had been chosen to match the eyes. The two of them stared at each other for a moment that felt too long. Hongjoong broke the slightly awkward silence first.

HJ: "Did you find anything of interest?"

???: "Not really."

The taller man glanced down at the flowers uneasily. He seemed slightly flustered by being approached so suddenly.

HJ: "My name is Hongjoong. Do you live nearby? I've not seen you around before."

Hongjoong attempted to spark a conversation between the two of them. The stranger seemed a bit hesitant before replying.

SH: "I am Seonghwa. It is my first time here, though I guess you could say I live nearby."

Seonghwa cracked a small smile. His voice was soft and slightly deep. Even though he spoke quietly, his voice did not tremble at all. It was a voice that undoubtedly held power and probably also a certain level of authority. Hongjoong could not pinpoint which type of person he might be. Could he be a CEO for some company? Maybe he was a big politician? It would definitely be some sort of leadership role though he did not know which.

Quite suddenly it felt like something had changed within Seonghwa. His eyes which had seemed somewhat distant grew warm and welcoming. It was as if they started to focus. Onto Hongjoong to be precise.

SH: "Want to join me for tea?"

Seonghwa spoke warmly and had now turned his body in the direction of a path that would lead them out of the park. Hongjoong nodded and started to walk in the direction which the other had initiated.  

──── ⋅ ☾ ⋅ ────

The two of them had found a small cafe in which they were now seated by the window. Seonghwa had tea while Hongjoong had coffee. Hongjoong was slightly worried about the silence between the two of them but he also kind of enjoyed it. There was something comforting about Seonghwa's presence. He just couldn't figure out what.

SH: "Do you go to the park often? You seemed familiar with your surroundings."

Hongjoong adverted his gaze from the street outside to the man opposite of him.

HJ: "I go there when I feel in need for inspiration. I love watching the butterflies during the summer and feeling the warmth of the sun."

SH: "Inspiration?"

Seonghwa's voice was encouraging Hongjoong to continue talking. And he did.

HJ: "I'm an artist in my free time. I like to design my own clothes and accessories."

He stretched out one leg from under the table and tilted his foot to the side. On his shoes were some writing in Hangul, hand-painted onto the sides of them. Seonghwa admired the work for some time before finally looking back at Hongjoong.

SH: "They are really beautiful. You have a unique style."

HJ: "Thank you. I also designed my own phone case!"

Hongjoong could feel the happiness within him. It was so nice to have someone listen and admire something you had put a lot of care and effort into. He held out his phone to Seonghwa who gently accepted the item with his right hand. On the case were two butterflies neatly painted in turquoise. The background was a simple dark blue, nearly black sky with a few white sprinkles for stars.

SH: "Do you like the night?"

Seonghwa's admiration for Hongjoong's work was very apparent. Hongjoong couldn't help but smile proudly.

HJ: "Most butterflies go to sleep during the night. But the stars will always be beautiful. Sadly the light from the city obscures the stars most of the time."

SH: "The butterflies may go to sleep, but this makes way for the moths."

Seonghwa handed the phone back to Hongjoong. He looked as if he was going to add something else. One short thought later he continued.

SH: "I can show you the stars. If you are interested of course."

Hongjoong stared intriguingly at Seonghwa.

HJ: "You can really do that? But we would have to leave for a place outside the city. I don't think there's enough time. I have work tomorrow."

He let out a sigh of dismay. He had seen the stars before, but he did not have a lot of money and he had to work if he wanted to save up money to travel.

SH: "It is not far from here. I do not think it will interfere with any plans you might have."

Seonghwa's voice had perked up at this conversation. His emotions were not easy to read as he did not show many expressions. During the short time Hongjoong had known him, Seonghwa had only shown his resting expression and soft smiles. His composure resembled royalty a lot. At this point Hongjoong was certain that he had met a significant person. Suspicions of him being an actor arose. Of course every muscle in his face was under control if he were an actor.

SH: "Do I have something on my face?"

Hongjoong's mind jerked back into reality. He had been staring mindlessly at Seonghwa while deep in thought.

HJ: "Ah no! I'm sorry. I was thinking about something."

He laughed awkwardly feeling his cheeks heat up. Whilst watching Seonghwa pay for their drinks, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful his hands were. They were not big but they were slender and elegant. One single ring adorned the middle finger of his right hand. Hongjoong got up before Seonghwa and headed for the exit. Seonghwa followed not far behind.

──── ⋅ ☾ ⋅ ────

The sun had set not long ago. The sky was now deep orange to the west, purple above and deep blue to the east. Hongjoong was walking along the park road beside a man he had just met that same day. Why he had agreed to join Seonghwa for a walk in the middle of the night, he did not know. But Seonghwa seemed genuine and Hongjoong disliked limiting himself  because of distrust. The two of them stepped off the pavement and onto a path that would lead them into the depths of the park.

HJ: "So... How will you be able to show me the stars? The park is isolated but we're still in the middle of a huge city."

SH: "Just wait."

Hongjoong was unsure if he had heard a smile in Seonghwa's voice or it was just his imagination. He discreetly searched the other's face for any clues of his intentions but did not learn anything. Had it been a bad idea to go through with this? There was still time to turn back if he wanted to. Hongjoong's doubt made the rhythm of his walking irregular for a moment. But the moment was long enough for Seonghwa to notice. He halted and looked at Hongjoong.

SH: "It is alright. We are nearly there."

He smiled and turned his gaze from Hongjoong towards a smaller path that lead off the main path and into an overgrowth of trees and bushes. Hongjoong let Seonghwa take the lead down the path and followed behind. It wasn't long before the trees had blocked out all the city lights.

HJ: "I can't see anything."

Hongjoong walked slowly and took small steps to avoid falling over when he suddenly felt a hand clasp around his left wrist. Upon instinct he tried to pull away. The hand held him firmly but not harshly.

SH: "It is not far. I will lead you."

Hongjoong heard no concern in Seonghwa's voice.

HJ: " How can you see? And how can I trust you? We're in the middle of a dark park all alone. This feels very deceptive."

Before Seonghwa could reply, they stepped out and into a clearing. It was still dark, but it was bright enough for Hongjoong to make out the contour of a lake. Seonghwa let go of Hongjoong's wrist.

SH: "We have arrived."

Hongjoong looked up at the sky but saw nothing but the crescent moon.

SH: "Try looking down."

A smirk was apparent in his voice as he spoke. Hongjoong hesitantly approached the lakeside. He felt on edge with Seonghwa behind him but as long as he could hear that Seonghwa didn't move, he felt fairly safe. As Hongjoong neared the waters edge he saw it. In the water were countless lights. He looked up at the sky then at the water and then back again. No stars were visible in the sky, yet the surface reflected a hemisphere full of stars. Hongjoong spun around to face Seonghwa expecting him to have moved. He hadn't.

HJ: "How is this possible? How can I see the reflections of stars that aren't visible?"

His voice was filled with both awe and wonder.

SH: "The lake is filled with magical creatures that light up the lake. They feast tonight and the fires of their large ovens can be seen as the brightest lights."

Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa with an expression that told him to be serious. And for the first time since they had met, Seonghwa's composure faltered and he let out a soft giggle.

SH: "I am sorry. I do not know why this lake reflects the stars even though they cannot be seen in the sky. My best guess is that there is something in the water that allows it to reflect light in a certain way. Either that or there are insects or bugs with luminescent bodies."

HJ: "The lights don't seem to move so it's probably the first option."

The two of them were quiet and Hongjoong turned back to the water to look at the lights.

HJ: "Would you not want to see it too? Come join me."

He waved his hand in a motion that invited Seonghwa to join him but Seonghwa simply shook his head and stayed back.

──── ⋅ ☾ ⋅ ────

Besides the moon, the sky was now completely dark. Seonghwa had agreed to walk Hongjoong to his exit of the park.

HJ: "Thank you for showing me that. It was really beautiful. I had no idea that lake was even there."

SH: "The path is vey hard to find. I am almost certain that no one knows about it. I accidentally stumbled upon it when looking through the park one evening."

HJ: "What were you even looking for when we met. You were almost sitting in a flower bed."

SH: "Ah. I was primarily admiring the colourful flowers but I was also searching for something. I did not find anything though."

They observed each other shortly, before Seonghwa spoke again.

SH: "It is late. You should go home and get some sleep. I remember you said you have work tomorrow."

HJ: "Yeah. Sadly. Thank you for a nice day though."

He hesitated before proceeding.

HJ: "Do you think we could exchange numbers? I'd love to see you again."

SH: "I- Yes. I would love to see you again too. Actually. I think I will be around in the park quite often from now on. Come by and we might meet again."

Hongjoong noticed how Seonghwa avoided the question but he let it pass. He was probably not comfortable enough to share his number yet. They had just met that same day after all.

HJ: "Yes. I will definitely come by. I'll see you soon."

Both men moved but neither knew what they wanted to do. They were not familiar enough for a hug but waving whilst standing face to face would be weird too. It was really awkward but Seonghwa eventually stepped back and bid the final goodbye. Hongjoong watched him walk off back into the park. And as Seonghwa walked away he could not help but notice how beautiful he looked as the moonlight lit up his tall figure.

──── ⋅ ☾ ⋅ ────

First time posting on tumblr. Let’s see how this goes XD

↓  these are the shoes Hongjoong  designed. Both in this story and in real life

[quicksilversquared]

Zippers and Zigzags

Marinette enjoys her fashion design classes, at least most of the time. Sometimes, though, one of her assignments ends up posing a bit of a problem for her and she ends up stuck, trying to find inspiration from- well, from anything.

Thankfully, she has a certain cat to make sure that she doesn't work herself too hard...and to provide a not-so-occasional source of inspiration.

links in the reblog

---0-0-0-

Marinette groaned and banged her head against the desk as she tried and failed to come up with any designs to fit the prompt that her professor had given them. She hadn't ever really thought to make hardware the center of a design- she preferred to make the fabric pattern or the techniques shine- and now that hardware was meant to be the star...

Well, she was coming up short. But she was the wielder of Creation, so surely she had to come up to something eventually.

"What hardware do you have?" Tikki asked, flying forward to look over Marinette's shoulder. "If you put out a couple pieces of each, maybe it'll inspire you!"

"I don't want to go out and buy something, though!" Marinette protested. "I have some things, of course- zippers and buttons and snaps and a couple of those studs left over from the coat that I made for Jagged Stone. But those are all little accessories, not centerpieces."

Tikki perched on Marinette's shoulder. "But that's the point of this assignment, right? To make little accessories into the focal piece?"

Marinette groaned some more.

Thirty minutes later found Marinette sitting in the middle of her floor, bits and bobbles sitting around her. All of the hardware that she owned had been found and pulled out, and now she was staring at the pieces with an increasingly frustrated expression on her face. She had been a little inspired by some of the things, but none of the things that she had sketched up had any of the hardware as any sort of focal point, just as smaller accents.

That was how Adrien found her, sprawled out and groaning into her hands.

"She's stuck on an assignment for class," Tikki told Adrien as he warily entered the room and circled around his (somewhat unresponsive) girlfriend. "I think it's a cool opportunity, and having all of this stuff out has given her ideas for designs, but none of them fit the prompt."

"Ooh, that's rough," Adrien said sympathetically. "Can I ask what kind of design it's supposed to be? Streetwear, avant-garde, runway, anything you feel like?"

"Thankfully, it's whatever we want," Marinette told her hands. "I would die if there were any other constraints to this. Not that there are many constraints yet, just that it's a hard one. Hardware has to be the focal point."

"Are your friends from class having the same problem?" Adrien asked. "Can you brainstorm together?"

Marinette made a face. "I'd hate to do that, because then who knows if I'll get as much out of the assignment? I might inadvertently use them as inspiration instead of the prompt. Though I do know that Esme is focusing on having a zillion belts on her design. It's... well, I feel like that's been done before."

Adrien nodded. "That it has. Even- even Father did it, though that was entirely when he did an avant-garde line to try to get Gabriel to branch out."

That got Marinette to glance over, her expression turning concerned. Even after two years, Adrien's parents were still a bit of a sore point for him. Adrien flashed a smile at her, to reassure her that he wasn't going to be upset. She smiled back, then turned back to contemplating all of the odds and ends on the floor.

She didn't move at all in the next twenty minutes. Adrien moved onto the lounger, pulling out his Bio homework to work on. Every so often, he would send a concerned look at his girlfriend.

"If you're stuck, maybe you should step away from it for a bit," Adrien finally suggested. "You're just going to dig yourself into a hole if you keep working on this. Go get a snack, go on a walk, work on something else and just forget about the assignment for at least half an hour. At least."

Marinette startled, her eyes snapping back into focus. Apparently she had zoned out a bit. "I- but I have to start this soon! I need to come up with a design, I need to go shopping, I- I-"

"You don't design well when you've been trying too hard for too long," Adrien finished firmly. "And I'm going to up your step-away time to at least two hours. Seriously. Shoo."

After several more minutes of waffling about- she needed to get started at least a little bit soon, so that she could get an idea of what sort of timeline she needed to be looking at- Adrien finally won their debate and Marinette found herself wandering downstairs, with her kwami but without her sketchpad. Adrien hadn't trusted her to not relocate and just keep on trying to come up with a design.

"He's probably right about a break helping," Tikki said as Marinette wandered into the kitchen to make herself a snack. "You've been working so hard lately! You had a whole slew of projects to finish up, and then a couple exams, and then that publicity thing as Ladybug, and then you helped your parents with several large order, and you had birthday presents to make for- what was it, three people? Four? And you applied to three different internships, too. You've been overworked lately."

"That's just how design school is," Marinette insisted. "I knew that second semester would be worse that the first, that wasn't a surprise. And it's just going to keep stepping up from here. I need to plan better, that's all."

Tikki looked dubious. "I think you planned very well. You've been trying to fit in more credits than the average person. I think taking the normal load might help."

"But school has so many good classes! They all have such valuable things to teach me, and I want to take as many as I can." Marinette finished making herself a sandwich and then headed for the door, Tikki floating along behind her. "There's techniques classes, and costume-making, and designing for menswear and women's clothing, and embroidery class, and-"

"Are any available over the summer?" Tikki asked. "So your school year load isn't so heavy?"

Marinette just shrugged. Really, it wasn't a matter of her being overly busy. She had a good handle on her coursework. It was just that this particular class's current assignment was proving difficult. It wasn't a required class, which was probably why Tikki thought that the slightly heavier course load was too much, but it did force Marinette to think outside of her normal design box, and that was a good thing.

Well. Most of the time, at least.

Marinette headed out the door with a wave to her parents and a heads-up that Adrien was over and probably would be staying for dinner. Then she was wandering, watching other people passing by and taking a mental note of some of the styles that she was seeing. She had to force herself to stop doing that after a couple minutes, remembering that Adrien had sent her out to take a break from fashion for once. So she focused on other things, the feel of the breeze in her hair, the chatter on the sidewalks, the birds singing in the trees and the cars rushing by.

It was nice.

She wandered along the Seine, watching the boats moving past. Some kids played in a park along the riverbanks, kicking a ball back and forth, and Marinette stopped to watch. It felt nice to not be rushing around for once.

Three hours and some-odd minutes later, Marinette got back to the bakery with a new plan in mind. She would sleep on the whole hardware design thing, and in the meantime knock a few assignments for her other classes out of the way. She would set aside a couple hours this evening to hang out with Adrien before he had to go home (even with as relaxed of a guardian as Adrien's bodyguard was, he did still ask that Adrien not stay the night with his girlfriend, at least not yet), and then she would actually go to bed on time. Then she would take another stab at the design tomorrow, or at least do some searching on the internet to find some inspiration.

That was the plan, at least, until she got up to her room and found that her boyfriend, apparently bored after being left alone for several hours, had flopped down on the floor and was amusing himself by making patterns with all of her assorted hardware bits, swirls and zig-zags and smiley faces covering the floor.

And inspiration hit.

Colors and textures and shapes came together into one as Marinette shot across her room for her sketchbook, ignoring Adrien's yelp as he rolled out of her path, too used to her sudden bursts of inspiration to get in her way. She could feel him come up behind her as she half-sat, half-fell into her chair, pencil already out and heading for a blank sheet of paper. A fun summer dress made its way onto the paper, arrows pointing to half-drawn shapes on paper and circles around other lines. Five minutes later, Marinette sat back, holding her sketchbook out in front of her to survey her newest design.

Yes, that should work. And it would work well.

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

 Marinette couldn't help but smile as she got her mannequin set up next to her workstation. While it had been a little difficult at times to bring her vision to life- finding a fabric that would hold up to the hardware instead of being pulled down was difficult, especially since she was trying to make a summer dress, and it ended up being a combination of slightly heavier fabric and Adrien's find of lighter-weight hardware for her to use that worked best.

She would have been lost without his help, honestly.

Around the classroom, people were unpacking their finished projects. Marinette couldn't help but notice that there were a lot of people who had gone for leather pieces, metal shining against the dark material. There were pieces with cross-crossing belts as the focal point, and she couldn't help but be glad that she had decided from the start not to go down that route. One person had knit fine chain into a draped jacket, which looked cool but no doubt weighed a ton. Another one of Marinette's friends had knitted a tank top, threading long metal beads onto the yarn so that the result was a dangling metal fringe. There were studded tops and jackets, one jacket with a very prominent, very gorgeous diagonal zipper running from one shoulder to the opposite hip.

And then there was Marinette's knee-length cream-colored dress, bronze zig-zags breaking up the fabric. Some of the zig-zags were zippers, both wide- and fine-toothed. Some were studs. One of the rows of zig-zags was tightly packed eyelets of different sizes. The zig-zags started wide at the bottom of the skirt and got narrower as they went up They weren't all the exact same shade of bronze, but that just added to the charm.

It was fun, it was a little funky, and it was different.

"Oh, that's gorgeous, Marinette!" Esme exclaimed, appearing behind Marinette. She started circling Marinette's design as Marinette slid it onto the mannequin, zipping up the- paradoxically- hidden zipper running up the back. "It's so different than what everyone else has done! Leather and hardware is such a natural combination, but you've made it different."

Marinette couldn't help but smile. "Thanks! I'm really happy with how it turned out."

"I wish I had thought of something like that instead," Esme admitted, turning to gesture to her own piece. The criss-cross belts came together in a large, decorative buckle. It was eye-catching, but Marinette was sure that she had seen something similar before. "This was all I could come up with. And it's nice enough, but... a solid third of the class has done a variation on belts."

"I was coming up blank until Adrien started playing with my odds and ends bin," Marinette admitted. "He had made some patterns on the floor with stuff, just because he was bored, and it- it just clicked. Making a relatively straightforward dress that uses the hardware as the pattern? I figured that it would be fun."

"It is fun! That's a dress you could totally wear out on a date." Esme grinned at Marinette. "Which you were already planning to do, weren't you?"

Marinette's smile turned a little shy as she ducked her head. "Well, since Adrien was the one who inspired me, it would only make sense, right?"

Esme laughed. "I don't think that the two of you necessarily need an excuse to go out on a date, from what I've seen. You're too cute together."

"We make a good team," Marinette acknowledged, trying not to laugh as she said it. A lot of people told her and Adrien that, and they didn't even know half of how very true that was. Adrien was her boyfriend, her superhero partner, her best friend, the (occasional) keeper of her sanity, her fashion design sounding board, and a fairly constant source of inspiration. No matter what they tackled, she knew that they would always be able to do it together. After all, even if they were retired superheroes, there was a reason why they had been picked to be with each other.

"I'm really lucky to have him."

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday, sunflowerslyf!

Apologies for the delay on your gift, @sunflowerslyf! We hope you had a wonderful back on the 16th, and got all the presents you wished for! To bring your party back around, @ally147writes has written a story just for you!

AN: Sorry for the delay, @sunflowerslyf! I’ve been pretty sick the past week or so, but I’m kind of on the mend! Full disclosure, I don’t know if this qualifies as a ‘meet-ugly’, but you wanted some smut as well, so I had to make a few modifications. There’s no actual smut in this story (sorry...), and there’s a lot I’d love to go back in and add or flesh out since I did rush it finished a little, but I hope you’ll enjoy this anyway ;)

This story was inspired somewhat by the police station scene between Jennifer Grey and Charlie Sheen in ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’.

Rated M for mostly for language and a little touchy-feely business. Unbeta’d. All errors are my own.

At least, Katniss notes, the whole place smells like bleach and latex.

 More than she could say for the parlour Jo dragged her to. She doesn’t remember a whole lot about that night other than the stench of cheap beer, vomit, and unwashed hair.

 The only other thing that doesn’t separate this place from the tattoo parlour is the clientele.

Katniss tugs her cardigan tight and crosses her arms and darts her gaze back and forth between the others occupying the seats around her. Between the young girl with the spiked, blood-red mohawk and the two guys who look like they’re members of violent biker gang, she’s the most demure one here, that’s for sure.

“So…” A low, sensuous says from the chair two down from her. “Where’s yours?”

 She freezes. The guy’s been watching her since she came in, and she’s been doing all she can not to stare right back, because he’s somehow the encapsulation of all the things your mother warned you to be careful of in a boy. Blond hair styled in an undercut, with the curls on top left untouched; blood-shot blue eyes, lined with something dark that might be smudged eyeliner or the evidence of a good, hard punch, that somehow still hold hers with an alertness she never would have expected; a small hoop glints from his eyebrow, and another two in the ear she can see. His white shirt, maybe a size too small, is a tight fit around his ornately tattooed arms, and it hugs his tapered torso almost obscenely. A leather jacket is slung over the arm of the chair, smooth and old and worn. She wonders if he got it second-hand or stole it, or maybe both.

 She lets out a breath and faces him front on. “My what?”

 He grins lazily. She crosses her legs. “You’re in a tattoo removal clinic, remember? So, where’s your shitty ink?”

 “Oh.” Her cheeks flush. “It’s, uh… not visible.”

 He snorts. “No shit, sweetheart, you’re covered from head to toe. So, unless it’s on your tits or something, mind at least giving me a hint?”

 Her jaw drops, but she recovers quickly and flashes her most menacing scowl. And pulls her cardigan a little tighter over her chest. “Go fuck yourself.”

 He grins wider. She swallows. “You’re kinda pure, aren’t you?”

 She swivels forward. “I don’t need to defend myself to you.”

 “That’s exactly what you’re doing, though, aren’t you?” He stands, and he’s not much taller than her, maybe a couple of inches, but he’s broad, built like a wrestler. He shuffles a little and settles in the seat beside hers and leans in close. She steals a breath and nearly shivers. Cinnamon and dill, fire smoke and something like warm, fresh bread.

 And something else a little like whiskey. God, is he drunk?

 Did someone turn up the heaters? She was freezing just a moment ago.

 “What are you doing?”

 He holds up his hands, both large enough to span her waist and then some.

 “Nothing at all. Just getting to know you. Can’t do that from all the way over there.” He grins again, and his teeth are perfectly white, though not perfectly straight, which is kind of a relief. “So,” he leans in close, “is it on your tits?”

 “What the fu — no! It’s not!”

 “Bummer. Thigh? Wrist? Ass?”

 “Jesus, why do you care so much?”

 “Just making conversation. I’ve been waiting in here over an hour now.” He smiles again, a little more subdued this time. “You’re by far the most interesting thing in the room.”

 She watches him stretch his legs out. Those black jeans will be the death of her. “Those lines ever work?”

 “I don’t know.” He bats his lashes. “You tell me.”

 She rubs at her eyes. “Why don’t you just leave me alone, dude?”

 “You’re really not going to tell me where it is, are you?”

 “Just not sure why you’re so curious.”

 “And I’m not sure why you’re so scared.”

 “Well,” she says, swallowing again. “Where’s yours?”

 “On my stomach. Wanna have a look?” Without waiting, he stands and whips his shirt up, revealing a set of abs that have no place on a seedy-looking dude at a tattoo removal clinic.

 She blinks at the expanse of colour decorating his body; abstract swirls like fireworks, flowers and faces, a bird in flight and wall of flames, every single one so sharp and intricate they look like they belong on a canvas in a gallery, though she concedes this man’s body is a more than acceptable substitute.

 “I… which one?”

 “This one.” He gestures to a trident slung low on his hip, disappearing into his jeans. Please, Jesus, don’t take those off, too. Or do, maybe, fucked if I know…

 “It’s… uh…”

 He snorts. “You can say it. Looks like shit. Not my best work, that’s for sure.”

 “You did it yourself?”

 “Most of them,” he says with a shrug, like it’s no big deal. I frequently stab myself with a needle for kicks. “Just not usually hammered when I do it.”

 She breaks her gaze away from the tapered V of his hips and meets his eyes again. “Why were you doing it, then?”

 He shrugs again. “Lost a bet to a friend. Tridents are kinda his thing. I might redo it again another time when I’m not pissed as a maggot.” He tugs his shirt back down and sits. “So. Where’s yours?”

 She sighs. “Lower back.”

 “Ah.” He nods, and God damn, did she just spy a tongue piercing? “Classic. What’s it of?”

 “A katniss flower.”

 He blinks. “I don’t get it.”

 She lets out a tired laugh. “My name’s Katniss. Seems a little conceited, don’t you think?”

 “I don’t know. Depends, I guess. Not like you’d be showing a ton of people anyway, what with it back there and all.” He grins again, and for a moment, he looks so much younger. “Can I see it?”

 “What? No!”

 He pouts. “Why not?”

 “Because,” she mutters at the ground. “It’s dumb.”

 “So why’d you get it in the first place?”

 She shoots him a wry smile. “Also hammered. My friend got one that night, too. Somehow, drunk me thought it’d be a great idea.”

 He laughs. “You make it sound like you’re the only one to do anything dumb when they’re drunk. You should probably loosen up a little. Relax, you know? Not like you’re the first person to make a bad decision before.” He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows at her. “Wanna make another one?”

 “You’re not going to let up, are you?”

 “Hey, I showed you mine.”

 She shakes her head and lets out a long, low sigh, ending on a chuckle. “I really don’t know why I’m doing this.” She leans forward, reaches back to untuck her tank top from her jeans. The chilly air hits the skin of her lower back as she inches it up to expose the ink she first thought was a mutant spider when she caught sight of it in the mirror the day after it happened.

 The guy’s hands ghost over her back, radiating a heat that makes her shudder with anticipation of his real touch. “Lean forward a little more, please?”

 She does as told, and when his fingers make contact, it takes everything in her not to melt at the gentle, ginger touch she did not expect from such an oddball presence.

 “It’s exquisite work,” he murmurs. His blunt nails tracing the design ignite a flood of goose-bumps along her spine. Heat courses through her, enough to fill her cheeks and every part of her. She clenches her thighs together and prays he doesn’t notice. “Gorgeous, really. Whoever did it did a really good job. You sure you wanna go through with getting it removed?”

 “Yeah. I mean, I never really wanted one anyway.”

 “It suits you. Sexy as hell, too, if you ask me.” She didn’t, but there’s a little thrill coursing through her regardless. “And a namesake tattoo isn’t a bad thing. I’d have a piece of pita bread on me if that wasn’t a totally batshit insane idea.” He removes his hand, and some stupid part of her brain misses it like crazy.

 She tugs her tank back down and sits up. Weird guy seems much closer now, or was he always this close?

 “Your name’s Pita?” Her voice sounds almost choked.

 He smiles again, and she can’t help but stare at his lips now that he’s this close. “Peeta, actually.”

 “I probably should have asked that before I let you put your hands on me.”

 “If you had any sort of hindsight you wouldn’t be here at all.” He reaches out and tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear. Why the fuck is she letting him do that again? “Right now, I’m kinda glad you’re an idiot. I probably wouldn’t have met you otherwise.”

 She swallows and tilts her head closer, letting him curl his hand around the back of her neck. The scent of him and the sound of his voice is kinda hypnotic… “I kind of don’t hate it right now, either.”

 She kind of falls into him then, and she’s got no real good reason why. Because he’s hot? That’s as good a reason as any. All she knows, his hands are mangling her braid and lips are warm and soft on hers, gentle and commanding at the same time, like he knows exactly what he wants and how to get it. But there’s something that she wants, too. She wrests control away, and he lets her, like he’d been waiting for her to seize it the whole time. She licks the perimeter around his lips until he opens for her, and yeah, he does taste vaguely like whiskey and smoke that isn’t cigarette smoke, and it’s weird but it’s so flipping good and God, what is with this guy and —

 “Katniss Everdeen?”

 She rips herself away from Peeta and pushes him hard enough that he falls astride the chairs making up their row. He watches with a quirked brow — the one with the piercing — as she bolts up from her seat and steals her bag from the floor. A bespectacled man in a white coat stands in the doorway leading to the treatment rooms, flashing her a knowing smirk that she kinda wants to slap off. “Would you like to come through?”

 “I, uh… sure.”. She looks back at Peeta, who’s still watching her with the most ridiculously amused grin. She can’t help another lazy perusal up… and down. “It was… uh, nice to meet you, Peeta.”

 Peeta grins and waves, just a subtle flick of his fingers. “See ya later, Katniss.”

 Oh, God, yes I hope so...

[fanfic-inator795]

RotTMNT/Baron Jitsu fanfiction: Dating… With Children - Chapter Eight

(Also on AO3 if you want to leave a comment or kudos)

Plot:  Benjamin Draxum hardly considered himself a man of high social standing. Not because he was uncouth or unworthy of it, mind you, but simply because he didn’t have much of a social life. Hard to have one when he usually spent his days at work, cooped up in a lab for so long that he often had his lunches in there, and his nights at home reading or doing research for more personal projects. But perhaps meeting handsome semi-retired movie star - as well as his four young sons - could change all that…

((Apologies for the long wait! Writer's block hit me hard this time around... But not only have I finally finished this chapter, but I managed to get a couple drabbles written out as well to make up for the lack of content, which I should have posted shortly. Anyway, hope you enjoy both them and this chapter! ^v^ Also, shoutout to @halloweennut, whose own celeb AU inspired a few small bits for the beginning chunk of this chapter, heh))

Lou could still remember when he was a younger man, fresh off the set of his first movie. A passion project from an already decently famous director with a foreign, previously unknown actor as the face of it. Lou had been so excited when he first walked into that small LA television studio, only half listening as his manager tried to ‘suggest’ answers to certain possible questions, and instead just tried to take it all in. Not only was he going to be a movie star, but now he was going to be on one of the most well known talk shows in America! Talk about a good head start! As was to be expected, he'd ended up completely acing his interview, charming both the live audience and viewers at home and cementing himself on the path to stardom.

But that had been years ago, the excitement and ‘newness’ of it all being long gone, even after taking a bit of a break from the business. As far as Lou was concerned, you be on one talk show, you've been on them all.

Still, the experience wasn't necessarily a bad one - especially when the studio put in the extra money for a decent backstage spread. Licking his lips slightly, Lou picked up another ham and cheese-topped cracker, quietly munching on it as he watched the various stagehands pass by. He was moving over the dessert side of the table when one of the show’s managers finally approached him. “Five minutes until you’re on, Mr. Jitsu!”

“Mm,” Lou nodded. He took a cookie to go and then stood at the designated spot behind the curtains, knowing the drill well. Popping the treat in his mouth, he took a moment to smooth out his outfit - a crisp white shirt with a light blue jacket and pants and a loose red tie, making the whole thing a sort of call back to the jumpsuits he used to wear - and make any last-minute quick fixes to his hair before the commercials ended.

Finally, the stage lights came back on just as the cameras began rolling, and the audience cheered as their favorite New York hostess strolled back on stage. “Welcome back, everyone,” Jessica grinned, soaking in the cheers from her audience. Jessica Jacklynn was more of a local famous favorite than a national one like other late night talk show hosts, but she still had plenty of fans thanks to her cool demeanor and always being on the search for exciting drama with her guests. “We’ve got a pretty special treat for you all tonight, a man who I'm sure needs no introduction, but I guess we’ll give him one anyway-” The audience gave a bit of a laugh at that. “Here to celebrate the seventeenth anniversary of his film, ‘Teriyaki Shakedown’, give it up for… LOU ‘JITSU’ HAMATO!”

Huh, it wasn't often people included his real last name - and even less often, if ever, his real first name. Most people just introduced him by his stage name. Heck, Lou himself usually did that too, not having much of a connection to his family name and only using it to sign official papers. ‘Guess she did her homework,’ Lou thought as he walked out onto the stage, a professional grin plastered on his handsome face.

He struck a couple ‘action poses’ for the cheering audience and shook hands with Jessica before setting down on the dark red couch opposite her desk chair. (From what he heard, Jessica was somewhat famous for actually standing on her desk when things got really exciting, and wondered if she'd end up doing that tonight at some point.)

“So Lou, seventeen years,” Jessica began, smiling sweetly now, “It’s been a while, though I bet the time just flew by for you, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Lou nodded, “Seems like it was only yesterday I was tossing stunt doubles into bowls of soup.” The audience laughed again. “Heh, it's kind of funny that that film is more remembered than my first just because it started my catchphrase. But hey, it's a good catchphrase! And apparently still pretty applicable to non-soup situations.”

“Mmhm,” Jessica nodded, “Well, we all love a good action-hero catchphrase. But, we aren't just here to celebrate the past, we want to know what you've been up to since! After all, it has been a while since your last film-”

“Yeah well, you can thank the box office for that,” Lou joked, earning more laughs.

“Fair enough, but I understand that you've had other things keeping you busy as well?” Jessica inquired, leaning in a bit on her desk, “Things like trying to take care of four little boys, maybe?”

Lou’s smile faltered ever so slightly as he nodded. “Yes, I suppose you could say that…” Lou never minded the spotlight of the press, and could even handle the paparazzi! But when it came to his kids, well… It was a whole different story.

Even without reporting it to the press, the news that Lou Jitsu had adopted four young sons had still broken a few days after he signed the papers. Almost immediately, news and celeb magazines wanted info and pictures. They'd pop up like a nasty swarm of gnats, hoping for several pictures and wanting to ask the boys questions after questions.

The first time it happened, it caused poor three year old Mikey to hide his face in his father’s chest, obviously freaked out by all the sudden people and flashes, while his only slightly older brothers were still a bit too surprised and confused to know what to do, the three of them crowding around Lou’s tall, protective legs. It took threatening to throw their cameras into the nearest tree to get them to finally leave, though even that didn't discourage much of the media circus.

He had accepted one interview, hoping to relieve some pressure, from a local New York newscaster who simply wanted a cute fluff piece from the semi-retired action star (as well as to get the full story first before any other media outlet could). ...Unfortunately, said newscaster ended up being a huge jerk, doing everything from asking if Lou purposely chose to adopt ‘minority kids’ (as if Lou himself wasn't a minority? The guy was an idiot too) to asking if he was trying to ‘prove something’ to other celebs who had adopted kids by adopting so many at once, even going so far as to imply that his kids were simply charity cases. Honestly it took all of Lou’s self restraint not to just rip the stupid poofy blond hair right off the guy’s head by the time the interview was over.

And of course, once he allowed one reporter to talk to him, everyone else just tried even harder to get an interview too. It eventually took Tang Shen - as well as several other people in the industry who considered themselves Lou Jitsu’s friends - threatening the various members of the paparazzi on social media, as well as the public finding some other piece of celeb news to obsess and gossip over, to finally get it all to stop somewhat.

Though, thinking back on all that, Lou was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake accepting the invitation onto Jessica’s show, possibly inviting that whole mess back into his life... However, Jessica was calm and professional as she continued. “I think we all remember a couple years ago when we all heard that action superstar Lou Jitsu was suddenly a father, and for what it's worth… We couldn't be happier for you!”

Lou blinked. “Oh… Well, thank you!” He nodded, quickly composing himself, “Yes, they are very good boys, even when they don't always listen. But hey, what kid does?”

“True, true,” Jessica agreed, “And I bet they love having fun just as much as you did, eh Lou?”

Lou chuckled. “Well, fun for them, and maaaybe a bit more on the side of stressful for me. But what can I say? I love my boys, even after the hundredth time I’ve told them to take off their shoes before running into the house.”

Chuckling along with his listeners as he relaxed on the couch, he began spinning various anecdotes about fatherhood and his new family that were funny and even relatable as they were heartwarming. The audience was practically eating out of his hands - not that Lou really cared, he just liked talking about his boys! Though, if he could entertain people with them then, hey, two birds with one stone.

“-and oh, you should've just seen the mess they made, and the faces they made when I caught them. They knew they were in big trouble - they got cheese and sauce on the CEILING! It was unbelievable!

"Ha! I can imagine!"

"Yes, and all over a ‘which pizza topping is the best’ argument! I wanted to be mad, believe me, but at that point, it felt like all I could do was laugh!" Lou shook his head at the memory. "Heh, I am sure I must have seemed crazy, but then again I was pretty crazy for leaving four kids under ten in the kitchen alone anyway. And it is like I told Ben, if you are going to have a food fight, you might as well do it as a child so you have a better chance of getting away with it-”

“Wait,” Jessica stopped him, “Ben?” She raised an eyebrow, smirking a bit. “Who's Ben?”

Again, Lou’s grin fell ever so slightly. Had he said Ben’s name? Shoot. “Well, ah… A-Anyway, after all that-”

“Oh, don't tell me you've been holding out on us, Lou!” Jessica told him, her eyes curious and mischievous as her now-curious fans throwing in a couple encouraging cheers, “Come on, you can tell us! Is there a new certain someone we should know about? Someone we already know?”

“Heh, I doubt it...” Lou mumbled. Draxum definitely wasn't the public type, he barely even had a social media page! There was no way he'd want his and Lou's 'story' shared with the whole city, much less the rest of the world. However, even knowing this, he also knew that his hostess wouldn't let it drop if he tried to play dumb and completely deny it. So, he decided to just choose his words carefully.

“I… may have started dating again-” The applause and surprised shouts were practically thunderous- “but, I want to respect my boyfriend’s privacy. It is what he deserves, after all. He is fun, smart, good with the boys-” he cracked a smirk, “Definitely handsome, aaaand… That is all I am going to say.” And his smirk only stubbornly remained as groans filled his ears.

“Are you sure you can't give us anymore?” The so-called Queen of Drama inquired, batting her eyes a bit, “I just know our audience would-”

“Now, I believe your people found some deleted scenes from the studio that you wanted me to give some insight on?” Lou asked, not even looking at her now, effectively ending the conversation, “Because, hey, isn't this supposed to be about ‘Teriyaki Shakedown’? I have got plenty of stories about that story too, you know! Does anyone here want to hear about how I came up with my Hot Soup finisher? Maybe a little demonstration too, if we can find some soup?”

Much to their hostess’ dismay, the audience unanimously answered, clapping and cheering once again. Remaining professional as ever, Jessica just smiled as she tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. “Well, I guess we know what we’re doing after commercials. Stay tuned for more stories and stunts with our favorite butt-kicking star, Lou ‘Jitsu’ Hamato!”

----------

“Great show tonight, Ms. Jacklynn!” “Wonderful job, Ms. Jacklynn!” “That was such a good idea, finding an excuse to get the Lou Jitsu on the show!” “I'm just surprised he said yes! Feels like it's been forever since he's been on something!” “And yet the moment someone says his name, his fans go totally rabid! Now that's what you’d call someone with star power!”

Jessica nodded as she continued making her way through her stage crew, only briefly acknowledging their comments and praise. Even the executive producer of the network only got a minute of her time. “I just really have something I need to get done before I head home,” she explained, not bothering to reveal anything else as she finally made it to her private dressing room.

She sighed, kicking off her high heels. Hosting a show was nice, but now it was time for the real fun. After all, content for shows and blog posts didn't just fall out of the trees most of the time. Sometimes, you had to go searching for it… And other times, you had to make it yourself. She had been hoping that with enough flirting, perhaps she could make some viewers see sparks between her and the semi-retired star, leading to plenty of publicity for the both of them and possibly start certain favorable rumors. But this… This was MUCH more interesting!

“Funny, Lou,” Jessica mused as she turned on her laptop, “You never used to shy about who you dated…” Even before she got into the showbiz game, she could remember seeing and hearing about all the various arm candy he’d have at movie premieres, award shows and Hollywood parties. Whether they were a new face on the movie scene, some beautiful model, a rich heir or heiress or even a co-star, Lou simply had no problem showing them off and having fun in both public and private for however long the fling lasted.

So what made this ‘Ben’ guy so special? What was he trying to hide?

Jessica went to Lou’s social media page first, naturally. She ended up scrolling through four months worth of content, but unfortunately came up with nothing. All Lou seemed to post were cute pics of his kids, random opinions on random things, Lou Jitsu memes and the occasional food or outfit pic when he had something to show up. Guess he was just as private about his personal life online as he was in person. Jessica scowled a bit at this, but didn’t give up yet. There was information out there, she knew there was! She just had to dig a little deeper…

She began searching for anything Lou Jitsu related on all social media sites. Most of it was useless - a fan mentioning they were doing a #JitsuMovieMarathon or someone taking a pic with an obvious Lou Jitsu impersonator. Those were the most frustrating. But finally, after over an hour of searching, she finally found something.

The Facebook page of a nobody with a followers number that indicated that anything he posted most likely stayed trapped within his circle of friends no matter how interesting or cool it was. There, she found a picture of Lou in a fighting ring with some guy she didn’t know, the caption explaining that this guy just couldn’t believe someone as awesome as Lou Jitsu was fighting in their gym.

But that wasn’t the most interesting thing. No, what was most interesting was the slightly blurry face in the background of the pic, tall with auburn hair and eyes wide with amazement. Jessica hummed to herself. He could’ve just been another fan… But there was something about him that seemed to claim otherwise.

This hinting feeling was indicated about twenty five minutes later when she saw the tall, redhead man again in another picture, this time on Twitter. It was slightly out of focus and far away, and Lou was wearing sunglasses, but it was them, there was no doubt about that. “Can’t believe it! A celeb date night on MY shift!” the girl had tweeted, adding an obnoxious amount of emojis and wishing the former star luck before adding “#HotSoupLove!” .

Jessica smirked. Hot Soup Love, indeed. “Now we’re getting somewhere…” It took some cross referencing and a lot more digging - whoever this guy was, he had little to know social media presence whatsoever, which made it even stranger that he was dating LOU JITSU of all people - but finally, she found him.

His stern, serious picture stared back at her as his information was revealed, thanks to the research lab website that introduced him: Dr. Benjamin Draxum, head of Genetics and Biochemical Research. “Doesn’t exactly seem like the ‘dating’ type, or the type of guy that a guy like Jitsu would go for,” Jessica commented, opening up a word post on her own social media page, “But hey, that just makes it all the more interesting.”

She always did love being the first one to break the story on any potential celebrity gossip, and this was certainly a story twist that no one would see coming…

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

Draxum’s eyes shot opened at the sudden alarm. He groaned, hating how early these Monday mornings always seemed to be. His eyes then shifted towards the windows, his body still lazy enough to ignore the alarm. Even behind the curtains, he could tell the sun was just barely starting to rise. So then, why was his alarm-?

It was then his tired brain finally realized that it wasn't his alarm going off, but his simple ringtone. He reached over and picked up his phone, and then glared at the screen when he saw it was a number he didn't recognize. Why they were calling over an hour before he had to wake up, he had no idea. It was probably a telemarketer, but just in case it wasn't, Draxum reluctantly answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello,” a seemingly human voice replied, “Are you Dr. Benjamin Draxum?”

“Yes, and who is this?”

“My name is Samantha Vics. I work for the NYC Inquiry and I was wondering if I could ask you some questions.”

A newspaper? (Or, maybe a magazine, he didn't know for sure given that he didn't really read many of either.) Well… He wasn't expecting that. Better than a telemarketer, at least. “About what?” He asked, wondering if perhaps something happened at his lab and they needed a statement from someone who worked there.

“Well, I was hoping you could tell me a little about your relationship with Lou Jitsu.”

…………… What .

“Excuse me?” He asked after several seconds of silence. Maybe he just misheard-

“Your relationship with Lou Jitsu. You are dating him, aren't you? I was hoping maybe I could ask you a few questions about that. How you two met, how long you two have been dating, what it’s like dating an action star as famous as him-”

Draxum took a deep breath through his nose. “...Excuse me for asking but, which section of the paper did you say you worked for?” He was just barely managing to keep his tone even.

“Oh, it's not a paper, sir. It's more of a local and national pop culture and celebrity-focused magazine, why-?” Draxum hung up, releasing his sigh. He wanted to go back to bed for the next hour and pretend that the whole incident was just an annoying dream.

...That's what he would've done at least, had it not been for the two more phone calls he received that morning. One from some talk show host named Jessica, and another from the Today Show, asking for a comment to use during their ‘Trending Now’ segment. Those two simple words sent enough dread down into Draxum’s stomach to switch his phone to silent, effectively ignoring it as he got ready for what was sure to be a long day.

His temper only rose when he ended up running into more people outside of his apartment, at least three or four. More ‘reporters’ - weren't these people supposed to be researching and reporting REAL news?! - trying to ask him questions, as well as ordinary people passing by, whispering as soon as they saw him and watching him as if he were some sideshow. He lost track of how many times he said “No comment”, practically shouting the words by the time he got to his car. At least they were smart enough to get out of his way once he got behind the wheel.

He didn't drive to work right away though, curiosity finally getting the better of him as he instead pulled into an empty alleyway where he could check his phone - four missed calls now - in peace. All he did was type in his name into a search engine, and about half a dozen articles from various blogs and gossip rags came up.

“Beautiful Brawn Meets Brain! Lou Jitsu Dates NYC Doctor!”

"Just WHO Is Jitsu’s New Boyfriend?!”

"Hot Soup Love!”

"Is Lou Jitsu Into Scientists Instead of Supermodels These Days? These Pics Would Say Yes!”

“What the hell?!” Draxum scowled, reading title after title before finally clicking on the earliest post. Honestly it was more speculation than an actual article, with the only ‘facts’ being the two pictures that included both him and Lou, as well as his name - which was only used once. After that, he was just referred to as ‘Jitsu’s Boyfriend’ or ‘The Scientist’. That definitely irked him.

And one of the photos… That was the diner they liked going to. The diner that would no doubt be swarmed often now in the hopes of getting another shot at seeing the Big Apple’s newest celebrity couple, the public and media alike most likely not caring if they disrupted a date. This made Draxum’s heart ache as much as it made his anger rise. He really liked that diner...

“How did they even find out about us?” He wondered out loud as he continued scrolling through. Sure there were the pictures, but something would have to prompt people to go looking for them, given they weren't originally posted by paparazzi. It was then, in the back of his mind, he remembered Lou saying something about having a talk show gig.

His eyes narrowed as he immediately switched from the Internet to texting. “We need to talk,” he typed.

Thankfully, Lou didn't wait long to reply, his words serious for once. “I know… I have to take the boys for school, but I will meet you at your lab for lunch. Maybe before then I can call up a couple people, do some damage control.” So he already knew. Draxum texted back that he would see him then. Just as he started his car back up, he received one last text.

“Ben… I am so sorry.”

Draxum didn't reply back.

The drive to work was average, save for his still-set-to-silent phone getting more unknown callers. He would have to start blocking numbers soon, maybe even change his number. He scowled just thinking about it as he walked up the walkway to the research building. It was ridiculous, couldn't these people just take a hint and leave him alo-?

* CLICK ! CLICK !*

Draxum’s whipped his head to the side so fast it was a wonder he didn't get whiplash. His eyes had just barely caught the tail end of a flash of light, and as he stared at the seemingly-normal bush that sat near the parking lot, he could see hints of black and plastic within it. Unable to help himself, he clenched his fists. “HEY!”

The scrawny figure didn't hesitate to move, jumping out of the bush and dashing down the street with their camera in tow. Had he not been in work clothes, he might have chased the photographer down. But he was as tired as he was furious, so he settled for simply letting the lab’s security desk attendant know that he'd spotted a ‘suspicious person’ outside.

His interns thankfully were smart enough not to say anything, stiff in their seats and already engrossed in their daily tasks. That's what Draxum tried to do as well, to just pretend that everything was normal despite feeling like the entire city - the entire world - now had their eyes on him, desperate for any little scrap they could get. ...Naturally this made focusing on work fairly hard. In between in-putting data from current tests and doing research on upcoming projects, he’d switch to social media, reluctant yet too curious to stop himself.

By this point most of the ‘articles’ had stopped, given that there was no new information coming in and nothing new to add. But that didn't mean people didn't have anything to say - the comments sections were an absolute nightmare...

Some people claimed Lou was only dating him so Draxum could (somehow) get his kids into a good college, or free medical care (he wasn't that kind of doctor, morons). Others simply called Draxum out for only wanting to date Lou for his status and money, with some speculating that he was only faking being a doctor. They wondered what they saw in each other, how Lou could possibly think of ‘going out with someone like that’. Every quality or accomplishment Draxum had or might have had was just ripped to shreds by fans and gossipers alike, all of them agreeing that the famous action star could certainly do better.

Draxum wasn't the type to care what people thought of him. ...He had to keep reminding himself that. That these opinions were worthless in the grand scheme of things… Still, even the least social people could still feel the crushing weight of words and insults if enough was thrown at them. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, his anger more numb now even as his disheartened frustrations remained.

The morning hours of his shift took an eternity to get through, but eventually the noon hour rolled around, and there was a knock on his doorway. “Hey,” Lou quietly greeted, holding up a logoless bag. With the media circus going on around them, it made sense that his boyfriend would pick making a sandwich for him over stopping somewhere and buying one. Draxum nodded, thanking him as he took the bag, but didn't open it.

As soon as they were alone in the room, his interns heading to the cafeteria faster than he had ever seen them go, Draxum asked his first question: “Why did you think it was okay to just… To just tell the whole WORLD about me without even-?”

“It was an accident,” Lou told him, as apologetic as he was defensive, “I-I was on that show, just telling stories about the boys and, well, your name just… slipped out.” He winced, silently berating himself for such a stupid mistake before continuing. “But I swear to you, Ben, I did not give them anything! All I said was that I was dating someone and left it at that. I didn't say what kind of job you had, or any personal information about you, or even your last name!”

Draxum was still scowling, though at least it didn't seem to be directed completely at his boyfriend now. “And it would seem they didn't need you to tell them that stuff, when they could just find it on their own.”

“Hmph, right…” He still wasn't sure how Jessica was able to find all she did about Draxum with just a first name, but he did know one thing: He was NEVER going on her show again. ...Unfortunately, whether he made a reappearance or not, the damage already seemed done. “Ben, I… I am so, so sorry. I never wanted something like this to happen! Especially not to the man I care about.”

Draxum stared at him for a moment longer before sighing. “I know… And I forgive you.” It would be unfair to keep blaming him for such a minor mistake.

Lou managed a weak smile at that. “Thanks… So uh, I was able to get in touch with a couple of my old managers, and they are going to try and get the story pulled.” Though by this point, it was already far too late. The original reporters had done their job, and it wasn't as if they could control every single person on social media. They had lost the war before starting a single battle. “I, I could still make a public statement. Not sure how much it would help, but…”

“Couldn't hurt to try,” Draxum agreed. Still, while Lou didn't even attempt to ask it, it still hung in the air between them, and the idea of it still sort of broke Draxum’s heart. Even worse, he didn't even have a solid answer to it.

“So, uh… A-Are you still coming over tonight?” Lou asked, “Because if you are, there is this back road behind my house, which may help with-”

“I think,” Draxum suddenly began as he forced himself to not look away, already feeling cowardly enough as is, “that I need some space.”

Lou’s glasses were at just the right angle to catch the fluorescent lights of his lab. Between that and the shading from his poofy hair, Draxum couldn't quite tell what his expression was. Still, the man’s voice remained steady. “Take all the time you need,” he quietly insisted. He then said his goodbyes, and walked out the door - and both of them hoped it wasn't for the last time.

Draxum stared at the open space where his boyfriend had stood, and nearly followed him out the door - but stopped when his phone lit up yet again with another unfamiliar number. He glared at the device, blocking the number before slamming it down on his desk.

Some space between them was for the best… It was for the best...

----------

The nice thing about the media machine was that new news became old news pretty quickly.

Sure, it still took him a couple days and blocking at least a dozen more numbers, but eventually Draxum stopped getting calls asking for interviews or comments. His co-workers made sure to stay out of his way as well, even though he could tell they were VERY curious and we're just barely holding back questions. And even if Draxum still made it a habit to look over his shoulder while walking around, the attempts that various members of the paparazzi made to try and get a shot of him also became few and far between.

After all, there was no point to the pictures if he was the only one in them...

“...” Draxum sighed, his eyes once again going from the book he was reading (a book he'd already read twice over, and was only trying to force himself to read it again as a distraction rather than for pleasure) over to the coffee table, where his phone sat, its silence adding to the much too quiet atmosphere of his apartment. Part of him almost wished it would ring or alert him about a text, but he knew it wouldn't happen. It hadn't happened for nearly two weeks.

“I wonder how he's doing,” Draxum mumbled to himself, eyes going from the device to the dark sky outside his living room window. He wondered about Lou and the boys both… He was sure they’d had to deal with twice as much hounding from the paparazzi, if not more, but he really hoped that they were enjoying some well-deserved peace now too. With days of silence from both sides of NYC’s newest hot couple, the media and celebrity gossipers alike eagerly moved onto the next scandal, leaving #HotSoupLove in the dust.

It was a relief… But there was also little actual comfort to it, for Draxum knew as soon as there were signs of the two of them being together in public again, the cameras and microphone-wielding pests of the city would pounce on them once more like snakes from the shadows. Each date outside of one of their homes would be a spectacle for the world to see, and Draxum hated that.  What he hated even more, however, was the fact that if it weren't for these vultures and the mess they would bring to his life… He would've probably called Lou as soon as the coast was clear...

Draxum had never needed space, he just refused to give the paparazzi a chance to get what they wanted! He had just wanted some peace and quiet, some time to hide from the prying eyes of his newfound public audience. But Lou… He had never wanted to be away from Lou, not for this long at least.  He truly did forgive him for his mistake, and each time Draxum thought of him - of the fun conversations or the things Lou would do to make him smile, of all the small gestures meant only for him and the moments they would also share with Lou’s young family - it only made his heart ache… God, did Draxum miss him. He missed ALL of them, and wanted nothing more than to see them again. To go back to the way things were.

And yet his hand refused to pick up the phone.

Draxum growled, carelessly tossing the book aside before leaning back on the couch and shutting his eyes. He hated it… Hated that to be with the one he loved, he'd have to risk being exposed to the world. Hated that a single phone call between them or a simple night out could also invite thousands of eyes and invasive questions. Hated that, for their relationship to work, he would have to also most likely deal with dangerous rumors and insulting comments and possibly even threats (depending on how rabid that particular part of the Lou Jitsu fanbase was) on a daily basis.

...But most of all, he hated himself for being such a coward. He didn't care how reasonable it was to hide, he was still allowing them to control this part of his life. He was giving them the power to decide the fate of his relationship instead of fighting for it... But since when was Benjamin Draxum not a fighter?

Deciding to do what he should've done two weeks ago, Draxum stood up and got his laptop.  It didn't take very long, about an hour at most. Editing was minimal, and as he prepared to post it on his rarely-used Facebook account (which had amounted followers in the thousands in just a few short days with the number continuing to rise), he finally picked up his cell and sent a simple text:

“Hello, Lou. Sorry for taking so long.”

It only took a couple minutes to get a reply. “It's fine, do not worry about it.” It was a normal enough reply, yet something about it still made it seem like Lou was walking on eggshells with him rather than being his normal, carefree self.

Draxum scowled slightly as his thumb flew across the keys. “No, it's not fine. Yes, I was upset and-” Scared? Angry? Disgusted by society? “-worried about dealing with… this whole situation. But not anymore. By the way, I’m posting something online right now, and I just wanted to give you a heads up. I'd suggest you watch it though.”

That time, Lou’s reply took several minutes. “Should I be worried about this?” He finally asked. He could almost see the man raising an eyebrow at him, wondering whether or not the scientist was about to do something that could get him anything from a bunch of flame comments and haters to getting arrested.

Draxum chuckled despite himself, not exactly being able to blame his boyfriend for being concerned. “No, if this blows up in my face, I should be the only one in the crossfire. That being said, I did want to ask one last thing. Are you free to go out tomorrow? I'd like to take you back to the diner we like.”

He could see Lou thinking it over (thanks to the ellipsis word bubble) before giving him an answer. “Yeah, sure, I should be free...but are you sure u want to go back there? and not somewhere else?”

“Yes. Very.” He was certain that Lou was still a bit unsure, but nevertheless they agreed on a time that Draxum would pick him up before saying goodnight. With that taken care of, Draxum made his post and then promptly shut off his laptop, letting his video do the rest…

-----------

“Hello. My name is Dr. Benjamin Draxum - though I'm sure most of you out there don't care about that. You'll just call me ‘The Scientist’ or ‘Lou Jitsu’s boyfriend’. Speaking of Lou and my relationship with him, that will be the subject of this video. You all want answers? Then fine, you've got them.

“We first met about five months, at an art museum auction event. When we first met each other, he invited me to join him and his family for the rest of the evening. I accepted. Afterwards, he gave me his phone number, and after a long conversation over the phone where we got to know each other, he invited me over to his house for supper. Again, I accepted.

“Ever since then, we've been spending time with each other and going out on dates when we can. We talk on the phone, visit each other’s homes, and do all the normal, average things that literally any other couple would do on dates. Those are the facts. And because I have revealed all the facts that are there, I will not be accepting or answering anymore questions, from the public or the media, in this video’s comments section or through the phone or email. However, I understand that this will not keep people from asking anyway or from speculation, nor will it keep mine and Lou’s relationship private despite the more intimate details of it not being anyone else’s business. I fully expect candid shots of us together the next time we go out, no matter how much I may ask of others to respect our privacy. ...But again, I accept this, and I will give you all one last fact about me:

“I care about Lou Jitsu, fully and genuinely, and as long as he will continue to allow it and as long as I still have these strong feelings for him, I will continue to be with him. Thank you and goodnight.”

Jessica had watched the video three times now, and each time she found herself a bit hollow afterwards. It hadn't been the first time someone famous (or even just in the middle of their thirty seconds of fame) had made a video to help clear up certain things or vent about something. But those were usually a lot more dramatic, where they'd eventually start screaming or crying or insulting people - But Draxum had done none of that.

He had spoke as if he was giving a lecture on whatever it was he studied. He was clear and concise, only presenting the facts with little emotion whatsoever. Even how he presented himself on the camera was professional, sitting up straight on his couch at home, well dressed with brushed hair. This was hardly some dramatic speech or him boasting about how he was sure ‘their love could conquer anything’. ...At least, it wasn't that in words or tone.

But in his eyes and the way he stared down the camera - not caring how many were watching or judging - revealed his true feelings. His passion, his determination to fight for his relationship, maybe even his love.

“I gotta hand it to you, Jitsu,” Jessica smiled, finally closing the screen, “You sure know how to pick them…” She also had a feeling that they'd be one of the few celebrity couples to stay together - and if that were indeed the case, she'd definitely have to come up with a better couples name for them than #HotSoupLove.

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

As far as he knew, no one had followed him to the Jitsu household. No paparazzi desperate for interviews, and no cameramen hoping for candid shots. Though, if there had been someone, he wasn't sure how much he would actually care. At this point, nothing was going to stop him from finally seeing his boyfriend again.

So, Draxum walked up to the house, moved to knock on the door, and-

The door opened, Lou already knowing he was there. He was smirking, but there was gratitude and admiration in his smile. “Well well well… Don't we know how to make a viral splash?”

Draxum smiled back at him. “Well, I didn't exactly have much of a choice. I had to let the world - and you - know where I stand.”

Lou’s smile fell a bit. “...Except you did have a choice. You know that, right?”

“I do… But it wouldn't have been a choice I'd be happy with,” Draxum told him, taking a step forward. He took Lou’s hands, squeezing them with care. “I want to be with you, no matter how much I may have to deal with from everyone else.” Though, after a moment, he frowned. “Of course, I'm not the only one this affects… Even if I'm not around you all the time, I'm sure you and your family will have to deal with all of that extra attention as well, so-”

Suddenly, Lou was grinning ear-to-ear. “Wow, last night really was the first time you have been on social media in a while, huh?”

“...Yesss, why?”

He chuckled. “Tang Shen saw what was going on, and heard about how our house was practically swarmed with people wanting comments that first day. And well, heh, you're not the only one who can make an online video. Just recently she decided to, ah, 'renew' an old threat directed at the entire paparazzi community, and told them that anyone who tried to talk or take pictures of my children without my consent would be VERY sorry. My boys will be just fine.”

Draxum was grinning now, holding back his laughter. “Well, that settles it. I definitely have to meet that woman one of these days.”

“She always flies in around Christmastime, just a heads up. And as for me, I am pretty much used to the whole ‘rabid fanbase, occasionally stalked by media people’ thing by now. Although…” His smile softened. “It really is easier when you have someone helping you deal with it.”

Not willing to hold himself back anymore, Draxum closed the distance between them, kissing Lou softly. Lou deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Yes, this was where he belonged: Beside his boyfriend, taking on whatever came their way together.

As they broke apart, they could hear tiny feet coming down the stairs. “I will have to go drop the boys off at O’Neil’s place, and then-”

“Draxum!” “Dr. Draxum!” “Drax!” “DRAXUMMMMM!”

From out of nowhere it seemed, he felt one, two, three, four small bodies (though that last one was pretty heavy) run into his legs, knocking him off balance and onto the ground. “Wh- Boys?!” Lou shouted.

Of course, his sons just ignored him, too excited as they all shouted at once. “We haven't seen you in forever, Dr. Draxum!” “See, I told you guys he'd come back!” “Yeahhh well, I always knew.” “Nuh uh, Leo!” "Yuh huh!" “DRAXUM I’M SO GLAD YOU’RE BAAAACK!”

Unable to help himself, Draxum laughed, managing to wrap his arms around all four of them. “I've missed you boys, too…” And that was the truth.

It took about fifteen minutes to calm the boys down and get them to April’s house (and to get Mikey to let go of Draxum), thanks to Draxum happily promising to visit them again later. With that settled, the reunited couple made their way to the diner.

As was to be expected, the diner was pretty full, now infamous for being #HotSoupLove’s ‘place’. But the two barely gave anyone else a second glance as they caught up with each other and enjoyed their meal, nor did they hesitate in taking a nice walk through the open Central Park afterwards. Not even the annoying occasional flash of a camera out of the corner of their eye or the whispers as they passed people by could sour their mood.

They were dealing with it all together, and that was all that mattered.

(( I know Jessica Jacklynn was just a referee/commentator, but I feel like she would totally be the type of character to host a late night talkshow and just be all about the celebrity gossip and drama. Lol, anyway, hope this chapter was enjoyable and not too wordy. please leave a comment if you can!))

[ikemenfics]

12 Days of Sengoku Christmas

Word Count: 1698 

You examined your outfit in the mirror.  You had decided on something festive, but still demure; a red knee length dress with three-quarter sleeves, a soft puff at the top, flowing skirt, sash at the waist and v neck showing off a little bit of cleavage.  You wondered if it was too bold or too much, after all, you didn’t want to come off as prudish but were afraid that modern fashions in the dating sector might offend the sensibilities of the former Sengoku warlord that you were going out with.

You sighed, smoothing down the garment, staring at the mirror.  You had more demure clothing, of course, but this was a date.  Risque wasn’t exactly in your wardrobe but you had a couple of pieces that were daring to wear.  You sighed again [I design fashion, but I have never been one to wear it..]  It was just going to have to be good enough.  You sat down, slipping your legs into stockings, knowing that your legs would somewhat be protected from the cold despite the outfit.

Stepping into the living room, many sets of eyes fell on you.  More the the point, they fell on the red silk hugging your form.  Masamune, Nobunaga, and Shingen’s eyes held praise, if Shingen’s didn’t also hold a hint of heat that had you blushing in spite of yourself.  Ieyasu and Mitsunari seemed surprised at the pick, but neither said anything.  Kenshin tried his damnedest for nonchalant, but even he seemed struck by your choice of dress for the evening.  Kennyo firmly kept his eyes somewhere other than you.  It seemed most everyone approved in some fashion of your date night outfit.  All, save one.

“That is too low cut,” Hideyoshi had approached, circling you with vulture like efficiency, his eyes appraising you in a way that only a mother could, “and i hope you’re wearing a coat, because that fabric is keeping nothing warm.”  He went on, your cheeks turning red at his picking apart your outfit.

“Leave her, Hideyoshi…” Nobunaga said, eyeing the motherlord.  Hideyoshi apologized, stepping away from you to return to his seat.  You looked downward, a bout of uncertainty attacking you, telling you that perhaps you should take his advice and change.

You were turning, when a voice breathed over your ear, “If Hideyoshi is that flustered…” you flinched, looking towards He-who-had-no-sense-of-personal-space.  Mitsuhide was smirking, entirely aware of the proximity issue, continuing, “then you know you have a winning dress for the evening.  Don’t change a single thing.”

Your eyes narrowed as you turned back to the room, but before you could chide him, Yoshimoto had stepped into the room.  He wore a simple white dress shirt, a blue blazer over that, and basic slacks.  Though the outfit was simple, Yoshimoto remained elegant and sophisticated in the clothing.  [Though, I’m starting to feel a little overdressed]  You fiddled with your dress as you thought about changing for the third time.

“Masamune thought I should wear this…” Yoshimoto explained.  It would seem the warlord of Oshu had an eye for clothes as well as a taste for good food, taking Yoshimoto’s simple attire and flattering it up with a shirt upgrade.  “Although, I’m beginning to realize that both he and I underestimated your beauty.”  You brightened at that, smiling towards the calm man.

He offered his arm and out you went.  “Where are we going?”  You didn’t want to spoil the surprise for him, tugging his arm close to you, snuggling against him before the propriety of the public eye robbed you the chance.  He gave a start, but relaxed soon enough.

“Somewhere you’ll love, I promise,” you told him, the two of you walking through the brisk winter chill.  You had both boarded a train, taking you to the Minato district of Tokyo.  Yoshimoto watched the lights of the city pass during your ride, his eyes looking at the wondrous world around him.  

“It’s beautiful,” he commented.  You smiled at that.  Yoshimoto had proven early on that he had an eye for beautiful things, making this trip of yours all the more exciting for you.  Outside, though, you agreed that the lights were beautiful against the darkening sky.  Though it was still fairly early to be out, the winter months had made Japan’s sunset come earlier than the summer days.  

Your stop came, both of you exiting the train.  You stepped into the crowd, adding to the human river that was Tokyo’s foot traffic.  While you walked, you both spoke of varying light topics; how he was getting used to the new world, plans for the future, living with thirteen other men, and just general life.  You smiled, laughed, his melodious voice keeping you both easy.  Soon, a large building loomed.  Your destination was close.

“Okay,” you stopped him, prepping him for what he was about to see.  He stared at you, his face growing serious. [Ok, maybe I shouldn’t have made it seem as if we were walking into something bad…]  “So...I know you love art and want to protect all things artistic…” you started, excitement bubbling forth, “and seeing that it’s Christmas, I wanted to give you something special…” you were starting to trip over your words, but the giddiness didn’t abade, “but as art isn’t a skill I have-”

You were cut short when Yoshimoto replied, “Your clothing designs are art enough.”  You paused, your face radiating heat as he gazed at you.  He took your moment of flustered silence to continue, “You are careful with your lines, giving your figures a lovely silhouette and what facial expressions you make are always lovely and radiant.  You might not think them art, but I do, that’s why…”  he trailed off, leaving you to stare at him, a proverbial cat having ran off with your tongue.

Minutes ticked by as Yoshimoto’s features melted into a soft look, “But you said you wanted to show me something special…” he prompted, knocking you back into reality.

“Ah..y-yes…” you stammered, “This is the Mori Art Museum.”  His eyebrow raised at the name, his voice echoing the question there.  “Yes yes...after the fall of the shogunate, the Mori became real estate tycoons and the last made this museum…”  He continued to eye you, making you fluster further.

“Alright, then.  Show me.  If the art here cannot compare to your grace…” he narrowed his eyes, you hiding your face from them as you half drug him inside.

You found the exhibit “Catastrophe and the Power of Art” and took him there.  You explained that the pieces were about dealing with the major disasters that have stuck the world and how art was shown to reflect, memorialize, and immortalize those moments, while inspiring the communities affected.  You walked from piece to piece, reading plaques and examining the art.  Yoshimoto remained quiet the entire time, making you wonder if he was regretting coming.  

“This one is by Yoko Ono,” you were attempting to engage, gesturing towards the very blue piece in front of you, “She called it ‘Add Color Painting’.”  He simply nodded, you both moving further into the exhibit.  Once through, you held a sigh at the exit.  It seemed your attempt to show him art was a failure.  

“What’s this?”  He questioned, moving towards another exhibit.  You glanced up, seeing art of birds on a live wire.  You stepped, seeing the plaque, “Crows,” you murmured, reading, “from the MAM collection.”  You looked up again, the soft texture of the birds keeping your eye.

“I like this,” Yoshimoto said, his hand lifting, a long finger pointing along the piece, “The lines are neat and the image is simplistic, yet dynamic.  Look here,” he pointed, you narrowing your eyes at where he indicated, “You can see how the birds are lifting off and preparing to land, how the others are watching them,” he continued to speak, your smile returning as liveliness picked up in the warlord.  You stepped back, viewing other pieces of the museum, then using your phone to look up more pieces from the artist of Crows.

“This one…” he pointed at a colorful piece depicting colorful women in varying states of gaiety, “Look at them.  It’s like they’re dancing.”  You flipped through more pieces, walking close to each other and exited the building.  The brisk air found your face, the wind stealing your breath away as you stepped into the night.

“Thank you,” Yoshimoto found his voice first.  You looked over at him, a smile gracing the man’s lips, “for this…” he waved his arm, indicating the art museum.  You smiled, nodding, and you were sure you said something, but girlish cheer stole the memory of them from you.  “I had fought,” Yoshimoto had continued, looking up at the large building, “to preserve all things beautiful and artistic in the world.  I’m glad to have been shown my efforts weren’t wasted.”

You spent the rest of the evening exploring other museums until it grew too late for any to remain open.  Taking the train home, you both chattered about the art you had seen and made plans to view more museums in the future.  Just before you had entered your home, though, Yoshimoto stopped you.

“Here,” he said, taking out a box, “When Sasuke mentioned that you might be planning something, I got you a gift as well.”  You took the velvety box, blushing to your ears.  Would he let you open it in front of him?  

You carefully opened the box, finding a necklace inside.  The golden chain glittered with a single teardrop diamond.  You looked up to Yoshimoto, your eyes watery with emotion.

“I had wanted something to match you exquisiteness,” he said, taking the chain out to place it around your neck, “But nothing I found could match until I realized…” he pulled back, examining his piece before looking up to your face, “it’s never the piece that makes the art, but the artist.  You are my art now.”

You both entered the house, your face red and happiness making your entrance a blur.  You gripped the hand of your lover, thinking on how this was the happiest Christmas you could remember.

On the ninth day of Christmas my Sengoku gave to me Fine Arts with Yoshi Kennyo and his Ikko Ikki Seven gifts from Kenshin Six konpeito eaten with Nobunaga Five Golden Boys of Hidemom Four walls for herbs with Yasu Three jewels from Shingen A two sword wielding Masamune And a Sasuke hiding in the ceiling.

[pagerunner-j]

So: writing.

I haven’t written any fic in ages. I’ve had ideas bouncing around for a while, but long story short, morale was low. A project came up, though, that sounded like a good excuse to bust one of those concepts out of the closet, and I started tinkering around with it this week to see if it might work. Of course, I promptly realized it’ll be WAY too long, sooooo...yeah, I’ll have to go back to one of the other ideas instead.

Still, I’ll probably have to finish this one eventually, too, because now I’m invested. Dammit. ;)

For now: have the first draft of the first section as a preview. Future!Keyleth goes back to Whitestone to inspect something very interesting up for auction...

--

The placard in the display case read, Lot 19: Automaton clock, 830-835 PD, Whitestone Society of Artists and Artisans.

The label was understated, but the tabletop timepiece was anything but. It resembled a classical building, surrounded by miniature figures. A small bird perched on the rooftop, viewing everyone below. Most curiously, at least unless you knew Whitestone’s history, a bear had pride of place before the front door. It was rearing up on its hind legs, standing taller than the townspeople. None of them seemed afraid of him. One even seemed to be offering something, although she, and everything else, was suspended in motion. The delicate handle on the back of the clock suggested its potential. The stern guard standing nearby also suggested its value.

The woman who’d walked up to see it did her best to ignore the guard—a tall order, considering he was a very tall half-orc—and bent closer to the case.

Her reflection in the glass was faint, but it still showed the vivid red of her hair and the intent flicker of her eyes. She’d dressed in muted, formal clothes like everyone else, but she moved like they fit uncomfortably. Her short hair was brushed down far enough to cover her pointed ears, but her sun-bronzed complexion and freckled nose still stood out in this town, as far north as it was and as close to the edge of winter. She could have disguised those features better, but doing so hadn’t felt right. Even the name she’d registered under — “K. Ashe” — wasn’t exactly a lie. She could only hope that no one would think she was more interesting than the extraordinary artifacts in this room. So far, she’d been proven exactly right.

After all, the Frederickstein-Graves collection, built up over the years by cousins and companions of Whitestone’s ruling family, ran toward the esoteric. It also kept an eye to local history. Ms. Ashe had surveyed the catalog already, which included an elaborate game set dating back to the re-opening of continental trade routes (lot 9) and an unusual harp by a 10th-century artificer famous for her impossible-to-mimic performances (lot 12). But the prize items claimed connection to Whitestone’s greatest villains and heroes. Ms. Ashe had already overheard an enthusiastic discussion about a set of onyx jewelry that once passed through the hands of Lady Briarwood. It came complete with legends about a curse. From the sounds of it, that was somehow adding to the lot’s appeal. She hadn’t even wanted to ask.

But then there was this clock.

Whitestone’s renowned artisans’ society was founded by Percival Frederickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, said the catalog on page 32, where she’d left a slender bookmark. De Rolo was Whitestone’s original Sophist of Native Ingenuity and member of the legendary group Vox Machina. This automaton clock, styled in the manner of his clock tower installation, dates from the period of his involvement with the guild and was gifted directly to the Frederickstein family. He has been credited in family documents as the maker of this timepiece.

Ms. Ashe, who had some familiarity with de Rolo handiwork, reached back into distant memories for a comparison. It took more effort than she was expecting. Suppressing a wince, she tilted her head to see the clock at a better angle.

“Magnificent craftsmanship, isn’t it?” said someone behind her. When she glanced up at the glass, she saw a young woman in a tailored suit, with her dark hair bound in a tidy braid. Her smile was just as tight, just as precise. “It’s truly something to see it up close.”

“It really is,” the redhead agreed. She straightened and turned around. “Jewel of the collection, everyone’s saying.”

“For once, the wisdom of the masses is entirely correct.” The woman’s smile had gone a touch condescending. “I traveled all the way from Rexxentrum to see it. It’s good to know the journey wasn’t wasted.”

“Did you now.”

“Indeed.” She proffered a hand. “Celia Corrigan-Whitburn. And I suppose you’ll be one of my rivals at auction, Miss…?”

“Ashe,” she answered, and then, somewhat awkwardly, “Kiki, specifically. To my friends. And the occasional rival.”

“Kiki. Really. Well, that’s charming.” Celia smiled again, mostly to the guard. “I don’t suppose I could persuade you to show us the clock in motion?”

“That’s a question for one of the specialists, ma’am.”

“Of course. Could you call one over, please?”

His expression didn’t change, but he touched his earpiece and murmured something Kiki couldn’t hear. She reflexively reached up to her own ear, touching the jewel that still hung there, but as ever, it remained perfectly silent.

Celia, who was speaking again, didn’t seem to notice.

“I was sent to inspect this at the behest of my employers,” she said. “We specialize in far more complex devices, but we still appreciate the classics. Especially when their makers are so interesting. Ah, there we are.”

The auction specialist, a tall human woman with an aquiline nose, nodded a greeting. “I understand you’re interested in the de Rolo clock.”

“Are you saying that’s its official provenance, then?”

“We can’t say it with 100% certainty, but all the hallmarks we’re aware of are there. I can show you one or two of them. Just a moment.”

While the guard hovered close by, she produced a small key and unlocked one side of the display case. Then she reached in with one gloved hand and pointed.

“That right there, of course, is the famous trained bear that belonged to the reigning de Rolos,” she said. “Trinket, by name. You’ll see him in motifs across Whitestone even today.”

“Trinket,” Celia repeated wryly. “Whatever inspired that name for a bear?”

“We don’t actually know,” the specialist admitted. “Much of Vex’ahlia’s history before becoming Baroness remains vague. But the popular theory is that since her husband was so clever in crafting trinkets, the bear was nicknamed thus to prove he was one of her own.”

Ms. Ashe, who knew that that wasn’t the story at all, twisted her lips but kept her mouth shut.

“The building is a stylized representation of a de Rolo property,” the specialist went on, indicating architectural details and commenting over a few. “Back in the 9th century, it was a shop. Part of the economic renaissance of Whitestone after being reclaimed from the Briarwoods.”

“It was a bakery,” Ms. Ashe added, unable to help herself this time. “The Slayer’s Cake. You can see part of the logo on the sign.”

The specialist’s eyes lit up. “Good eyes. Yes, that’s the name we have on record.”

“Again with the strange titles,” Celia remarked. “Slaying cakes?”

Kiki felt like she had to reply. “It was a tongue-in-cheek reference to another guild. The Slayer’s Take. Still exists, but under a different name and very different regulations. They hunted a few things too close to extinction, so now they claim to be about responsible wildlife management and environmental stewardship.” She quirked an eyebrow. “I understand a druid or two nudged them in that direction.”

Celia sniffed. “The Green Coalition at work again. We’ve had debates with them about our mining operations.”

“I imagine you have,” Kiki said under her breath.

“So what was the connection between the Slayer’s Take and a bakery?” Celia asked.

“The bakery founders used to be members,” said the specialist. “It was something of a retirement venture, after they were done with the adventuring life.”

“Actually, they opened it slightly before they fought…” Kiki began, then shook her head and waved a hand. “But close enough.”

The specialist turned to her. “So you’re also a student of local history.”

“Something like. Just…long experience.” Kiki shrugged one shoulder and changed the topic. “But this clock. Anyone could make a clock themed around the city. Is there a maker’s mark to identify it?”

Celia nodded as if she also wanted to know. The specialist gently tilted the clock back to show the symbol on the base. “The mark is for the artisans’ society,” she said. “We have a chart of different iterations of this logo. This is the earliest, the one Lord de Rolo personally designed. It didn’t acquire the double border until the 850s.”

“Hmm,” Kiki said, studying the little symbol.

“Also, the way the figures move is very typical of his work. Let me show you.” She set it back down and delicately wound the clock.

Celia bent closer this time. Kiki, her attention caught, didn’t move. She just held her breath and waited as the gears turned and the hands realigned, and the figures began gradually to stir.

“Look here,” said the auction specialist, indicating the townspeople in motion. “The articulation is particularly clever. My favorite is the woman offering a pastry to the bear.”

Kiki whispered something that might have been a name, but no one else heard it. The clockwork bear, though, lifted his head and seemingly looked straight out through the glass at her.

“The scene’s all very prosaic, isn’t it,” Celia said. “You’re right, though; the craftsmanship is terribly clever. There’s familiar techniques here, actually. I’ve seen clockwork like this before. Might lend credence to a few theories.”

The bear took a polite sniff of the pastry. Kiki’s side glance was less friendly. “What sort of theories do you mean?”

“That there really were ideas exchanged between Mr. de Rolo and our company founder. Maybe even outright collaboration.” She paused. “Well. Our honorary founder, I should say. The original inventor of the rifles that we licensed and continued developing. Did I mention I work in weapons manufacturing?”

“You might have left that out,” Kiki said thinly. “Are you speaking of…”

Celia’s tone turned conspiratorial. “Dr. Anna Ripley,” she answered with a smile. “She may still be a controversial figure, but I’ve always found her fascinating. And I’ve studied both her works and those of her competitors for a very long time.”

The clock chimed, and the bird on the rooftop opened its beak in a warning caw. Kiki, struck dumb, distantly felt that it might have been laying on the dramatic irony a bit thick.

The specialist, who’d missed that exchange while listening to something over her earpiece, closed and locked the case before nodding to them both. “If you’ll excuse me, it seems I have another auction-goer to speak to. But it’s good to see your interest. If you have other questions, come find me. I’ll be here until the end of the afternoon.”

“Of course,” Celia said, smiling brightly. “Thank you.”

The specialist walked off. Celia, too, readied to go. She faced Kiki again, though, and gave her one more little smile. It was taking on distinct shades of a smirk. “I hope you understand my interest in this item now, at least.”

“I do,” Kiki said, her voice low.

“And if I might ask—because now I’m curious—what brought you here to bid on this?”

She thought about it. “History,” she said at last. “Legacy. And a certain personal interest.”

“Care to share what kind?”

Kiki met her gaze levelly. “No.”

Celia’s eyebrows lifted. Then she started to laugh. “Well. You’ll make for an interesting competitor after all. But I’ll warn you, the Whitburn Company coffers run deep.” She winked. “I’ll see you at the auction, Miss Ashe.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Kiki said, and watched Celia go. The woman’s heels clicked rhythmically on the stone floor, almost mechanical in their precision, and only slowly grew quieter until they were lost in the sound of the crowd.

Kiki let out a long, long breath when she was gone. She looked briefly at the guard, who didn’t react, then slowly returned to the case. He didn’t seem bothered when she pressed one hand to the glass for support, at least. And if he was listening when she murmured one last thing aloud, she found she didn’t care.

“Oh, buddy,” Keyleth said to the little clockwork bear. “This just got a lot more complicated.”

Trinket roared his agreement before slowly, slowly winding down, going silent and still once more.