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official-weasley · 3 years

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Double the Joy - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: scolding a child, fluffy family stuff

Word count: 4,585

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

A/N: I still suck at writing baby talk so I am expecting an army of toddlers to get me soon! 🙈

Nova

“Alright, so then we place this one here...”

Charlie was sitting on the floor with Aoede and they were doing a puzzle together. It was gifted to her by Arthur when she turned 3 but she didn't show any interest in it until this morning when she found it in her room and the second she showed it to us Charlie had to promise her that they will complete it after lunch.

The puzzle is of a dinosaur mum and her newly hatched baby. I found it amusing but not at all surprising because Arthur loved Muggle things and for some reason, Aoede was more than intrigued by them too.

Charlie, on the other hand, wasn't very pleased that Aoede was more excited about some giant Muggle chickens that don't even exist any more than dragons but once they had the frame down, he got into it.

“Dad, we need another piece hele!” Aoede pointed her tiny finger to where she noticed a piece was missing and they both started to search for it on the big pile they set up together to easily find the right puzzle piece.

I was half laying on the sofa, sipping on my tea and observing them bonding. It was better than Tom and Jerry or any other show or cartoon. Every time they were doing something together I took my time to just stare and admire them. Aoede might be a miniature me but in so many hidden ways she was just like Charlie and I loved to figure those things out and later point them out to him because it meant so much to him to know that she caught some of his genes as well, besides his red hair.

One of the first things I noticed was the way she gets angry – it's all of a sudden and she gives it her all – and Charlie is the same. They both don't know how to handle their temper. With Charlie, I got used to it. With Aoede, it's adorable – for now.

It's also how she frowns and presses her lips together when she is mad. Charlie does the same expression and since she copies so many things after me, I think she got that one from Charlie – probably when he comes home mad when one of the dragons was disobedient and his interns didn't know how to handle it properly.

It shows the most, however, when they cook together. The way they both concentrate when they are measuring things or how they mix the ingredients in the pot. Aoede bends over when she searches for something in the fridge the same way Charlie does and she tends to lower her voice while baking for some reason and I didn't notice that Charlie does the same until last week when he had a sudden inspiration to make banana bread.

Being more than 8 months pregnant, I couldn't do much. Unlike the morning sickness when I was pregnant with Aoede, I feel constantly tired with this one so I am mostly resting and taking every opportunity I can to nap.

At first, it bothered me because I felt so useless, and seeing Charlie being so busy with cleaning and cooking while still going to work and playing with Aoede, I felt like I am not contributing much. The second I expressed my concern, Charlie was quick to calm me down saying that being pregnant and granting his wish to have another baby was contributing enough.

As always, I tried protesting for a few days and even cooked a few meals and bathed Aoede a few times – despite that being one of Charlie's favorite things to do because they splash each other and flood the bathroom. At first, Charlie just glared at me and said nothing, knowing full well that I was stubborn enough to try my best. But the second he saw that it was draining me and that I started sleeping more and more he made me stop and I finally gave in.

Now, I love my quality time on the sofa because I usually have the honor of watching Charlie play with Aoede and it's just the most beautiful sight of how much he loves to spend time with her and how much fun Aoede is having when she has daddy's full attention.

“Okay, we did that part, now to the tail...” Charlie started searching for puzzle pieces again, while Aoede came to me, gave me a gentle squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

She did that every time she thought that she was spending too much time with her dad and was making me jealous. Every fifteen minutes or so she would pause whatever she was doing and take the opportunity to come and show me that she loves me too.

A knock on the door disturbed our precious little moment and I started to get up.

“I'll get it, love, no need to get up.” Charlie lifted his hand at me to stop me.

“No, no. You two are busy. Let me go, I have to stretch my legs a little anyway.” I smiled at him and he bestowed me with an appreciative smile back, clearly having the best time with his daughter.

I slowly made my way to the hallway and opened the door.

“Good evening!” Bill grinned the second he saw me, his eyes moving from mine to my belly, before pulling me in a hug.

“Oh, my, you are getting big! I can't believe less than a month to go!” Fleur exclaimed and embraced me too.

“Aoede, your godparents are here!” I shouted toward the living room.

“Sorry, dad, I have to go.” I heard Aoede whisper to Charlie before she started running toward us.

“Uncle Bill, uncle Bill, uncle Bill, uncle Bill!” Aoede crashed into Bill with such force that she almost knocked them both over.

“Look at you!” Bill took her in his arms. “Since when are you so big?”

“Uncle Bill, you saw me less than a month ago!” Aoede giggled.

“I know, but still. You must've grown for a full head!” Bill exaggerated.

“Nuh-uh! Tell him, auntie Fleul, he is lying!” Aoede leaned closer to Fleur to hug her too before returning to pay her full attention to Bill's ponytail failing to make it into a braid.

“'e's right! You 'ave grown!” Fleur tickled Aoede's belly, loving how easily entertained she was.

“Look, uncle Bill, auntie Fleul! Daddy and I ale making a puzzle!” Aoede grabbed both of her god parent's hands and rushed them to the living room the second Bill put her down.

“Dinosaurs,” Bill sniggered, “let me guess, a gift from grandpa Artie?”

“Yes!” Aoede lifted her hands excitedly in the air.

“I can see Charlie iz very 'appy about dinosaurs.” Fleur pressed her lips together not to laugh as she sat next to me on the sofa while Bill joined Charlie and Aoede to finish the puzzle.

“So, 'ow are you?” Fleur put her hand on my knee, her eyes that were glued to my belly were sparkling.

“I am about the same. Still very tired but it's almost over.” I sighed and smiled at her.

“You are doing great and it will be worth it once you zee your new baby.” She exclaimed.

I narrowed my eyes at her – she was hiding something. Bill and Fleur were married for 2 years now and we have become really good friends and it's been nice to not be the only girl to marry into the Weasley family. They visit us often, especially now that the dark times are behind us and Aoede expresses that she misses her favorite aunt and uncle.

Only Charlie, Bill, Fleur, and I know that Aoede loves them the most and promised that we won't tell anyone else in the family no to crush their hearts as they all fought to be the favorite of their only niece.

Since we see each other more often, I had the chance to get to know Fleur better which meant I learned when she was hiding something. She has been very supportive ever since we told them and the family that we are pregnant again and even offered for Aoede to stay with them for a week at Shell Cottage so Charlie and I could get a breather and be properly excited about the expecting bundle of joy.

I was used to her asking me how I am and how I am dealing with everything and she even expressed a wish that she wishes to be a mum herself. But her grinning and having sparks in her eyes was something new – as if she couldn't wait to share something with me.

“You are on to me, aren't you?” She giggled as I didn't stop reading her face.

I only hummed in response before looking at Bill who's head was tilted, observing Aoede completing the puzzle with the same sparks in his eyes. I pursed my lips, going full detective mode on this.

“Will you say it on your own or should I just guess?” I smirked, locking eyes with Fleur.

“Guess what?” Charlie looked at us and I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

“William, Nova knows.” Fleur pretended to be disappointed.

“Knows what?” Charlie asked confused.

“How did you know? She isn't showing yet.” Bill furrowed his brows.

“Not showing yet?” Charlie's eyes were jumping from Bill to Fleur to me and back.

“Oh, I don't know, perhaps all the sparks in your eyes.” I giggled and pointed at both of them, leaving poor Charlie confused.

“I told you she will figure us out!” Fleur's cheeks turned slightly pink.

“Okay, somebody has to fill me in!” Charlie didn't look amused at all.

“As I said – will you tell us on your own or should I make a guess?” I cocked an eyebrow at them, giving them one last chance.

“Somebody please just say it.” Charlie ran a hand across his face, looking completely done.

“Let Charlie guess!” Bill laughed, pointing at his brother.

“But –” Charlie frowned at him before giving it some thought.

“So, Nova already knows and it involves both of you and it has to do with sparkling eyes and Fleur not showing something yet.” Charlie had his eyes narrowed, scratching the stubble on his cheek.

Bill, Fleur, and I were watching him solve this mystery, hardly keeping it together. Bill pretended to help Aoede with the puzzle while Fleur and I avoided eye contact not to start laughing. After about 30 seconds of Charlie's gaze switching between his brother and his sister-in-law, his eyes widened in realization.

“Fleur, you're pregnant!” Charlie put his hands over his mouth as Fleur nodded excitedly.

“Not you too!” Before either Charlie and I had a chance to congratulate them Aoede decided to share her opinion on the matter.

“Aoede, you should hug Bill and Fleur and be excited with them,” I said gently and got bestowed with a frown from my daughter.

“Yeah, don't you want a cousin to play with?” Charlie added.

“No!” Aoede stood up, shaking her head. “Couldn't you do this soonel so mum didn't have to get anothel baby?”

Bill and Fleur stared at her with their mouth open. They heard and knew about Aoede not agreeing with mine and Charlie's choice to have another child but they have never witnessed it until now.

“Aoede, that's enough!” Charlie said with a warning voice.

Aoede, who had her mouth slightly opened – ready to say something else – turned to her dad, frowned some more then sat back down in front of her puzzle pretending to search for a piece even though the puzzle was completed and sniffed so silently that I almost didn't catch it.

Bill and Fleur silently exchanged a look while I glared at Charlie who has never risen his voice at Aoede before and even though we couldn't enjoy and celebrate this pregnancy as we did with the first one due to Aoede always having something to say about it, we agreed to be patient with her in the hopes that she would come around.

“Uhm, I need some fresh air,” Bill cleared his throat, “don't you need some fresh air too, Charles?”

Bill nudged his brother and they both stood up. I smiled appreciatively at him and mouthed congratulations not saying it out loud not to get another negative reaction from Aoede.

When they closed the door leading to the back porch behind them, Fleur and I joined Aoede on the floor.

“Sweetheart...”

“Not now, mum. I am busy.” Aoede pretended to sigh, thinking she could hide that she was sobbing.

“Can we 'elp you?” Fleur tilted her head, hoping Aoede would look at her.

“No,” Aoede shook her head, “no, thank you, auntie Fleul.” She tried mustering a smile but failed and instead of her lips curving, she shed another tear.

“Aoede...” I searched for anything to say to her.

It was breaking my heart seeing her this way, trying to hold in the tears and pretending that Charlie's warning voice didn't hurt her.

“Shh, mum. I'm playing.” Aoede lifted her hand at me to stop me from saying anything else.

“Let's give 'er some space,” Fleur whispered to me and stood up.

I was observing my daughter for a moment or so more before Fleur nudged me with her foot to join her.

Charlie

“That was something,” Bill said after we were sitting on the bench in silence for a moment.

“Yeah. I don't know what got over me. I never raised my voice at her before.” I shook my head.

I was ashamed of myself – it was wrong and I should've handled the situation better.

“Yeah, it was evident that this never happened before,” Bill said gently.

“Nova and I promised to each other that we won't talk about the pregnancy in front of her and I guess it just got to me. We were so excited to have another baby and you know I want a bigger family and I just wish Aoede would share that excitement with us.” I pressed my fingers into my eyes.

“She'll come around. I was even younger when dad told me mum was pregnant with you and I was in complete shock trying to convince them that they were wrong.” Bill laughed.

“Wait what?” I asked, incredulously. “You never told me this before.”

“Yeah, I was mad and did not want you at all and now look at us. I can't imagine my life without you.” Bill put an arm around my shoulders and ruffled my hair.

“But you were always so nice and took care of me.”

“Yeah, you and your cute freckles grew on me.” He winked at me.

“How long did you need to warm up to me?” I wanted to know.

“You would have to ask mum that. I only remember that I threw a tantrum when I had to stay with aunt Muriel when you were being born. Don't you remember how angry you were when mum was pregnant with Percy? You were about Aoede's age.” Bill giggled.

“I do not remember that at all,” I answered honestly.

“We were both mad. I liked the idea of just being the two of us and when our parents told us that they will have another baby they ruined that fantasy and I remember we made a pact about not liking the baby.” Bill was clapping his hand against his knee, laughing so much.

“So we should expect the alliance between Aoede and our second-born when we'll have the third one?” I playfully shook my head.

“Yeah, get ready for that.” Bill gasped for air.

“Thank you for telling me this, Bill. I feel more hopeful that Aoede will come around but even worse about shouting at her.” I bowed my head.

“You're welcome and you'll apologize to her.”

“Mhm,” I mumbled, looking up at the starry sky.

“So you still don't know the gender of the baby?” He asked after us being silent for a few minutes.

“Nope. We loved the surprise when the doctor told us Aoede is a girl and we want to do the same this time around.” I grinned.

“I don't think we'll be able to do it.” Bill rubbed his chin. “We're just so excited, you know!”

“Oh, now I can finally say congratulations!” I embraced my brother. “I can't believe I'm going to be a dad again within a month and an uncle in...”

“About 8 months.” Bill finished my sentence. “And thank you. Fleur isn't even a month in so you are the only ones who know for now.”

“Understandable.” I nodded.

“So,” Bill nudged me with his elbow, “any fatherly wisdom to share?��

“I can't believe there is something I can lecture you about and not the other way around.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, you beat me to it.” Bill joined me.

“Well, up until the moment you witnessed inside before, I reckon we have been pretty great with our daughter. Treat your child as an adult and talk to them and pay them attention and value their opinion as much as you can. Children are smarter than we give them credit for and always listen to what they like and try making them happy with those things.” I pursed my lips, trying to think of more things.

“How about the pregnancy? Is it normal to feel left out?”

“Oh, yeah. I felt terrible when Nova had morning sickness and I couldn't do anything about it.” I sighed. “But I have learned that just being there for her and encourage her and tell her she is doing great goes a long way.” I grinned.

“Right.” Bill was focused, taking every word I said in.

“Also, try and do as much as you can around the house and for her so she can have a proper rest.”

“Of course.”

“Oh, and massage her feet every time you remember. I know Nova would kill for a foot massage especially in the final months when their feet get really swollen.” I explained.

“Got it.” Bill nodded.

“Other than that just be excited and celebrate every moment. Honestly, we were obsessed with Aoede before she was even born.” I giggled. “You mean how you told her stories and sang to her while she was still in Nova's belly?” Bill sniggered.

“How do you know about that?” I felt the heat on my cheeks.

“Nova wrote me about it.” He winked at me.

“Well, it's sweet and you'll turn all mushy too once you become a dad.” I lifted my chin, proudly.

“I have no doubt about that. I can't wait.” Bill couldn't hide the excitement in his voice.

“You're going to be a great dad.” I patted him on the back.

“If I'm half a father you are, I'll be proud of myself.” He smiled at me and I couldn't help but return it – that compliment meant a lot to me.

Bill was always better in most things we did and he always beat me in everything. But I guess when it comes to being married and having children, I was more experienced and it felt nice to give him advice instead of receiving it for a change.

“Speaking of being a good father...” I cleared my throat and looked at the door.

“Go, go talk to your little girl.” Bill encouraged me and we stood up.

Nova

“She obviously wanted to be alone,” Fleur said in a low voice when we sat down at the kitchen table, my eyes still on Aoede.

“I know but – “ I pressed my lips together.

I knew that if I would say another word my voice would break and I would start to cry – my hormones were getting the best of me. We found the whole thing about Aoede not wanting a sibling funny and we knew that sooner or later she would warm up to the baby but now that I saw how hurt she was when Charlie stopped her from sharing her opinion with us, I realized how serious this was for her.

“Waz zis ze first time Charlie raised 'is voice at 'er?” Fleur put her hand over mine.

“Yes.” I nodded and finally turned to her.

“It must've shocked 'er,” Fleur said understandingly. “Mhm.” I hummed not really knowing what to say.

“Are you okay? I can zee zis is eating you alive,” Fleur said with concern in her voice.

“I have no memories of how I was when I was her age and being an only child I never had to deal with such information and it pains me that I can't relate to her or help her get through this.” I brushed the tear that ran down my cheek away.

“I 'ad no idea she iz zo against it.” Fleur was a bit shocked.

“Yeah, it came to a point where Charlie and I started to question if we made a mistake getting pregnant again.” I sighed, remembering all the moments when Aoede got mad when we discussed anything about the pregnancy.

“But you want a bigger family.” Fleur tried cheering me up.

“That's true but the first time around, we celebrated – just me and Charlie. This time we wanted Aoede to join us and share this happy moment with us and she is just not having it and how are we supposed to be excited about it when our daughter is completely miserable over it?”

“She will come around, trust me. I waz ze same.” Fleur chuckled.

“You were?” I brushed another tear away before looking at her.

“Of course! I zink all children are. When my parents told me about being pregnant with Gabrielle I wanted to run away from 'ome!” Fleur laughed, reminiscing on the memory.

“And when did you come around?” I sniffed, a bit cheered up.

“When zey brought 'er from ze 'ospital. When I saw 'er and saw that my parents wanted to include me and still loved me ze same, I calmed down and in a few weeks I was prepared to die for 'er.” Fleur sent me a smile.

“I hope she will be the same.” I looked back at Aoede, who was still sitting in the same position.

“Trust me, you 'ave nothing to worry about. You celebrate your second baby without worry.” Fleur stood up and hugged me tightly – as tightly as my big belly allowed her.

“Thank you, Fleur. Your words really eased my mind.” I murmured.

“Any time.” Fleur smiled and sat back down.

“And congratulations. I am so happy for you two.” I tried to sound excited and whisper at the same time, not wanting to upset Aoede again.

“Zank you! We couldn't be 'appier!” Fleur clapped her hands together.

“How far along are you?” I wanted to know.

“About three weeks. We are not telling anyone else yet but we wanted to tell you.” Fleur was shaking from excitement.

“Oh, our babies are going to be so close in age!” I jumped in my seat.

“I know! I never thought we are going to be pregnant togezer!” Fleur grinned. “Any tips?”

“Well, be prepared for the morning sickness which kicks in at about six weeks, and try to not overwork yourself even though you feel very energetic. Listen to your body even if it has weird food combinations in mind for you to try,” I giggled, “and ask Bill to often massage your feet. That feels so good when they get all swollen.”

“Oh, I can believe that!” Fleur chuckled.

“Other than that, listen to what your doctor says and advises you and try not to think about it too much and with that I mean just try and continue your daily life as much as you can. I went to work until my 5th month and I would continue to go if Charlie wouldn't protest so much.” I playfully rolled my eyes.

“Do you think Bill will be ze same?” She laughed.

“Oh, yes, most definitely! Be prepared for that!” I joined her.

After our giggles quieted down, I looked at Aoede again.

“I will try talking to her again,” I said to Fleur and stood up.

Right when I reached her, Charlie returned with Bill.

“Love, let me handle this.” He whispered to me, avoiding my eyes.

“No, I can do it.”

“Please, I feel bad. Let me fix my mistake.” Charlie pleaded. “I shouldn't have reacted as I did and I want to apologize to you too. We promised we will give her time and I snapped.”

“Okay.” I smiled at him and kissed him on the lips.

I watched him sit down next to Aoede and then joined Bill on the sofa, who welcomed me with his arms wide open.

Charlie

“Pumpkin, can I sit next to you?” I asked Aoede with a gentle voice.

“Yes,” Aoede replied, her head bowed down, looking at the puzzle.

“Do you have the time to talk?”

“Mhm.” She mumbled.

“Daddy wants to apologize for how he talked to you earlier. I was wrong and I am sorry.” I wanted to hug her so badly but I knew we weren't there yet.

“It's okay dad, I undelstand,” Aoede said with her cute voice.

“It's not okay,” I shook my head, “I shouldn't have lost my temper with you.”

“But you love the baby.” Aoede finally looked up at me, her red and puffy eyes broke my heart.

“I do, Pumpkin, but that doesn't mean I love you any less.” I dared to move a bit closer to her.

“I just don't want anything to change,” Aoede sighed, “I like that it's just you, me, and mum.”

“I know, Pumpkin but as mum and I told you before, nothing will change. We will still love you the same, treat you the same, give you the attention and play with you.” I ruffled her soft hair.

“You plomise?” Aoede bestowed me with the sweetest puppy eyes that I have ever gotten.

“I swear on my job.” I crossed my heart and smiled at her.

“But,” Aoede gasped loudly, “daddy, you love youl job!”

“Exactly, but I love you and mum and the baby more so that's how you know that I am not lying to you.” I gestured for her to sit in my lap and she climbed over my leg.

“Okay,” Aoede took a deep breath, “I will tly and do bettel.”

“Aoede, it's okay. I understand. Your uncle Bill and I were the same when we found out about your uncle Percy. I know how you feel now and I shouldn't have reacted as I did. I should've been more patient with you and give you time.” I frowned, still disappointed in myself.

“Do you and mum want this baby?” Aoede looked up at me.

“As much as you want to see a unicorn.”

“That much?” Aoede stared at me in awe. “But that is a lot!”

“Yes, that much.”

“Okay, daddy. I will tly to want the baby too.” Aoede pushed more into my body and I wrapped my arms tighter around her.

“You will?” I asked surprised, not expecting this outcome at all.

“I will. I sweal on a unicoln.”

I gasped dramatically, knowing how much unicorns mean to her, and made her giggle. As she turned around and looked at me lovingly with her big blue eyes, it warmed my heart knowing that we will be just fine.

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bisexualbumblebee-writes · 3 years

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Lunch- Jasper Badun x OC

Jasper Badun x Angela Young

Description: Jasper takes Angela to lunch, where they learn something interesting about each other.

Word Count: 2.3k

“The full moon's bright. And starlight filled the evening,” came Elton John’s smooth chorus from the radio hanging on the wall of 2nd Time Around. It would have brought a smile to Angela’s face if that hadn’t been the sixth time she heard it in the past two hours. Artie had recently purchased Elton John’s latest album “Captain Fantastic and the Dirt Brown Cowboy” and he brought it into the shop so Angela could listen to it as well. Only problem is their radio seemed to be having problems with it, that song after every other one. At first Angela thought it was just a hiccup, but this was starting to get ridiculous.

“Artie, it’s playing that song again,” she complained, leaning against the counter.

“Hitting it seems to help,” came her boss’s voice from the back room, where he was putting price tags on some new stock. “There’s no one here, just hit it until it skips.” Angela looked around, noting that he was right about both things. She was glad that the store was empty, ever since Cruella revealed that Artie and Angela worked for her at the party she threw, people were more eager to visit their shop. Today was Sunday, no one usually shops on Sundays so today was the first day that Artie and Angela could relax and sort of restock.

Still, that didn’t make her want to do this any less. The girl groaned internally and grabbed the stepladder, setting it up under where the radio hung on the wall. She carefully climbed the steps until she was face to face with that stupid machine and began hitting it in an attempt to make it work properly, trying to ignore the blaring music going straight into her ears.

“We wrote it and I played it, Something happened it's so strange this feeling, Naive notions that were childish,” Elton continued to sing, successfully covering up the sound of bells jingling, signaling that someone had walked in.

“Just skip already you stupid radio,” she grumbled, annoyed. The radio didn’t care about the insult, continuing to play that infernal song.

“Simple tunes that tried to hide it, But when it comes, We all fall in love sometimes.” She groaned loudly, getting ready to hit the machine again when a voice came from behind her.

“I don’t know, I actually found that song quite good,” Jasper spoke, hands going into the pockets of his jacket casually. Angela nearly fell off the ladder, having not heard him enter the store, then faced him.

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” she greeted, climbing down the ladder and straightening out her dress. “Welcome to 2nd Time Around. I’m Angela, or Angel as in: sent from above.” She gestures to her body with a bright smile.

“That was cute,” Jasper commented with a small smile. “Did Artie come up with that one for you?” Angela nodded.

“I felt a bit left out since he had that ‘Art, as in: work of’ line so he helped me out,” she explained, moving the ladder. “What can I help you with? We just got new stock from Dior, Chanel, and even Saint Laurent. From casual looks for lunch or suits for going out on the town, we have it all,” she explained, gesturing to several racks around them. Jasper let her do her whole spiel, knowing how much she loved coming up with stuff like that, before shaking his head.

“Well I didn’t originally come here for clothes but it seems that your customer service has changed my mind,” he said, making her giggle. “That can come later though. It’s nearly time for your lunch break so I figured I’d take you out to lunch.” Angela smiled internally, touched that he remembered such mundane things in her schedule.

“Well, let me just go click out and I’ll be ready,” she responded happily. He nodded and waited patiently as she walked to the back room, informing Artie that she was going on her lunch break, before clocking out and grabbing her coat. She slipped it on as she walked out.

“Wow, nice coat,” Jasper complimented, making her blush.

“Well thank you, I designed it myself.” She spread her arms out and turned to show him the entire thing.

“Beautiful,” he spoke softly before holding out his hand. “Ready to go?” She took his hand with a nod then called a bye to Artie as they walked out.

“So, how has it been living at ‘Hell Hall’?” She asked as they began walking down the sidewalk. Of course Artie and Angela stopped by Cruella’s new estate for work, but that’s just what it was. Jasper and Horace didn’t like to interrupt the dressmakers while they were working. There was a fashion show coming up so they had to get everything done as soon as possible. With all the chaos at the shop and at Hell Hall, the new couple had no time to see each other. It was surprising to Angela that her boyfriend had come by in fact. This was the first time in a week and a half that they truly got to see each other, and Angela wanted to make that time count. Jasper wrapped the arm closest to her around her shoulders and his other hand went into his coat pocket while hers went into her jacket’s pockets.

“Strange,” he answered honestly. “I lived in that cramped house for 23 years, I had the chance to get used to it. Now, I could get an entire floor of this huge mansion to myself if I just say the word. And yes, Cruella has tried.”

“You’re not used to having so much space,” Angela clarified. The man nodded.

“Exactly. Horace and Estella were always within arm’s reach in case something happened,” he continued. “Now it takes a commute to find either of them. I just- I don’t know…I kind of wish things were how they were. Before I got Estella the job at Liberty, before Estella became Cruella.” He looked at his girlfriend once he finished his rant. She hummed then gave him a patient smile.

“Things like this take some getting used to Jas. You’re a creature of habit, of course you’re not going to get comfortable right away. And that’s okay, I know that Cruella and Horace understand. And about Cruella, she’s always been there from what I understand. She was going to come out no matter what, it was only a matter of time when. She was like a ticking time bomb, but we all still love her either way. That’s what matters, right?” Jasper sighed, he had a love/hate relationship with her logical thought process.

“Besides,” she added. “If you hadn’t gotten her the job at Liberty, she wouldn’t have met Artie and I. Then you would never have met me.” That was enough for Jasper to look at her once more with his usual adorkable smile.

“You’re right. I’d rather die than to never have met you,” he muttered sincerely. Angela smiled and stretched just enough to kiss his jawline.

After walking a few more minutes Jasper finally opened the door of a small restaurant in a shopping strip for her and led her inside. Lunch went by rather quickly, and before they realized, the check had been placed in front of them. Angela went to grab it but Jasper handed the money to their waiter without hesitation. Their waiter thanked them and walked away to put it up, leaving Angela to jokingly glare at her boyfriend.

“Jasper I could have paid, you know,” Angela scolded softly.

“I wanted to wait for us to go on a date so that I could be the one to pay for it, Angela. Like a gentleman, you know. I have the chance to do that now, so please let me.” The girl quieted immediately. She hadn’t thought about that. Rather than responding, she only thanked him and switched the conversation, much to his relief.

“Well, I still have twenty minutes left of my lunch break. What do you say to a small stroll?” She questioned as they stood in unison.

“Sounds great love,” he responded, taking her hand and walking out. They walked a few minutes until they ended up in front of what both of them recognized as Liberty, where a worker was setting up the new display case.

“Oh man, this reminds me of a few months back before I met you guys,” Angela reminisced with a smile. “I was passing by here on my way to work and there was a girl who got drunk and messed up the display case with trash. Man, did the manager look mad.” She laughed, harkening back to that day.

It had seemed like a normal day, since Angela lived so close to 2nd Time Around she usually just walked there everyday. She remembered how hot it was, so she wore short overalls on top of a yellow shirt. On her way there, she passed by the Liberty store, but paused when she noticed a few people crowding the display. That, of course, piqued her interest and she pushed her way to the front, apologizing every few seconds.

There was a woman with red hair who seemed to be asleep on the floor of the display case, empty trash bag in one hand and an almost empty bottle of what looked like whiskey in the other. The man beside her stepped forward and knocked on the window, jolting her awake.

“Why’d you go and sleep in a window?” Someone on the other side of the knocking man questioned dumbly. Oh, Angela had to show this to Artie. Carefully, she took her camera out of her bag and snapped a few pictures shortly before the manager walked out and grabbed her. Angela took the time to check her watch, and her eyes widened. She was going to be late! Before anyone could do anything else a car came screeching to a halt just outside the store, making everyone turn around. And, that was Angela’s cue to leave. She began pushing past people, knocking someone over almost immediately.

“Ah! Bloody hell!” The man groaned out upon hitting the ground.

“Sorry!” She called apologetically, though she didn’t turn back as she ran the rest of the way to work.

While she reminisced, Jasper stopped in his steps, thinking back to when Estella had done that.

“Wait, were you wearing denim overalls that day?” He questioned. Angela was confused by this, but quickly understood where he was getting at and looked at him with wide eyes.

“Oh my god, you’re the guy that I ran into after the Baroness arrived!” She exclaimed.

“You’re the one who snapped a picture of Estella then fell into me!” He responded in the same tone with a toothy grin.

“Did we seriously meet before we actually met?” She asked with amused disbelief. Jasper shook his head, feeling the same way as her by the looks of it.

“I cannot believe this,” he chuckled as they continued their walk.

“I still have the picture of that,” Angela mentioned. “It’s in my camera roll, I haven’t gotten the film developed though.”

“You know what, I can and will personally go with you to get it developed. That would be wonderful blackmail.” The girl shook her head at that.

“You’re bad,” she answered, though she couldn’t help but smile.

“I guess so.” They walked back to the shop, making pleasant conversation. That stopped when they stepped inside and saw Artie talking to someone very familiar.

“Hello Cruella,” Angela greeted chirpily, unlinking her arm from Jasper’s. “I didn’t know you were coming by. Lots of surprises today.” She took her coat off and began walking to the back room.

“Thought I’d come see how 2nd Time Around was doing now that you guys have publicity. Artie tells me you two have been working overtime,” Cruella responded, resting on her cane. “You could have told me, I wouldn’t have worked you to the bone after work every night.”

“Yes, almost two hundred customers a day,” Artie added. Jasper’s eyes widened as Angela walked back out.

“Two hundred? How are you two still alive?”

“Lots of determination,” Artie responded simply.

“And our new coffee machine,” Angela added, leaning against the counter. Jasper rubbed her back soothingly.

“Well, you guys are closed on Mondays, right? Why don’t you two come over, we’ll have a small sleepover and you guys can sleep in luxury. No offense.” Angela pursed her lips.

“None taken. I think.” Cruella’s usual smirk settled on her face once more.

“Great. I’m sure Jasper doesn’t mind driving down here once you close. Until then I have a few more stops to make. Come on Jasper.” She began walking out, pausing in the doorway to wait for him.

“Come back soon,” Angela spoke softly.

“Of course,” he responded with a sincere smile. “I still have some shopping to do and I heard there was a very cute worker here.”

“I would say that you’re referring to me, but I think that would ruin the moment, huh?” Artie joked, making the others laugh. Jasper shook his head amusedly and leaned down a bit to give Angela a quick kiss goodbye then began following his friend. The two waved as they watched them walk out, then they heard Elton John’s voice ring out once again.

“Wise men say, It looks like rain today,” the same song started for the seventh time.

“Want me to have a go at it?” Artie questioned knowingly.

“No,” Angela shook her head, surprising Artie though she couldn’t see it as her eyes were still trained on the door her boyfriend just left though. “It’s starting to come around for me.”

#Cruella 2021 #cruella #jasper badun #jasper badun x oc #jasper badun fanfiction #jasper badun fanfic #jasper badun imagine

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write-orflight · 4 years

Text

Trouble: Chapter 5

*Gif not mine*

Pairings: HotchxReader

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Rating: M

Words: 2.4K

Warnings: SMUT, fingering, choking, slight degradation, sexual contact, dom/sub overtones. TW!! mention of past rape/abuse. witch shit.

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: After Haley’s passing, Aaron Hotchner has lost the light in his eyes. He seems to find it it the most unlikely of places, an occult themed coffee shop ran by a witch.

A.N There is a Trigger warning for the beginning of this chapter! Talks heavily of past abuse and Rape please if that is something that will trigger you, skip to the first break! Take care of yourselves, Cia

Chapter 5: My sweet love, won't you pull me through?

You were sitting at the table of your shop opposite of Hotch, drinking tea. Or at least trying to, Aaron decided to try and make you some but it was disgusting. You couldn’t help but smile at the effort though.

He watched you intensely before you sighed.

“I met Charlie about half way into my senior year of college. He was TA of my psychology class and everyone wanted him so I guess I felt special that he wanted me, a quiet girl from a hick town. He was sweet in the beginning, always planning these elaborate dates, never once forgot an anniversary or birthday; it wasn’t until we were dating for a year that he changed. He was jealous, at first it was just guys at bars who happened to hit on me, he would get mad then it started to be the waiter at a restaurant or the guy servicing my car. He always blamed me called me the slut for trying to fuck other men while we were together.” You sighed, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. “Pretty soon after that is when he started beating me. I felt so hopeless and dark and it seemed like I could do nothing right. Nothing was going to stave off his hand. One night, we were out together and as we were leaving the bartender slipped me his number. Charlie was furious, said I had to have been doing something to make him do that and that if I was going to act like a whore he was going to fuck me like one.”

You were fully sobbing now and Aaron was immediately out of his chair, hugging you tightly. He says nothing for a while, just let’s you quietly sob into his shoulder.

“You don’t have to talk about it, I understand. We can stop, dove.” He whispers. You shake your head.

“No, I need you to know this.” You choke on another sob before clearing your throat. “He raped me, and didn’t even bother to use protection… so some time after that, I found out I was pregnant with Bean. I couldn’t let him anywhere near her so I ran. And he found out about Bean around her 1st birthday. Silena’s a good friend who followed me anywhere but this is the 3rd state we’ve moved to, to avoid Charlie. I can’t do that to her or Bean again. I’m not leaving this time.”

“You don’t have to, okay? I’ve got you.” Aaron says. “It’s not just you guys anymore. You have me now, okay? And I’m sure the team wouldn’t want they’re favorite coffee place gone so you have them too.” He laughs, inducing a chuckle from you too.

Silena comes out of the kitchen then. “I’m going to head out, but I don’t want to leave you alone.” She says, sadly.

“I’ll be fine, Sil.” You roll your eyes “Go sleep.”

“My sister in law has Jack tonight, I’ll stay with her.” Aaron adds. “That is if you want me to.”

“Uh, yea. That’s fine.” You flush. “Goodnight, Silena.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” She moves to hug you which you instantly return. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She whispers in your ear, winking as she pulls back. You roll your eyes.

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Soon after you and Hotch head up the creaky stairs of the shop to your apartment in silence. You relieve Malia, Artie’s babysitter who asks if everything’s ok because she heard yelling. You reassure her everything’s fine and see her out.

“If you want to wait here you can, I’m going to check on Bean.” You say, Hotch nods and watches you walk away.

He takes this time to survey your apartment. He's never been in it before and now he knows why. It wasn’t that it was dirty, in fact it was clean and organized but it seemed every corner, shelf or place you could find space there were mason jars with labels like, Moon water, Banishing powders, Aura Repair tea, Mugwort, etc. Uses that, of course still eluded Hotch to this day, despite knowing and dating you for some time. The only shelves not taken up by jars are the altar where Silver and white candles are half melted, alongside some stones and various flowers. The second shelf was littered with frames. Hotch stopped to look at them, there were a lot of pictures. You, standing with an older couple who Hotch assumed were your parents, He didn’t particularly like that one because though you were smiling you can tell that you aren’t happy in the slightest bit. The next is a photo of you, Silena, and a third girl he never met on your graduation day, your hair is blue in this photo and you have Silena in a headlock in one arm and your degree in the other. The next one was you in a hospital bed, holding a sleeping child, flipping off whoever was holding the camera, red hair frizzled beyond belief. The last photo was his favorite though, it’s you and Silena, standing in front of a building that he immediately recognized as Hallowed Grounds, both in paint splattered overalls, your green hair tied up in a red bandana.

“That was the day we finally signed the deed for HG.” He hears behind him, he turns to see you smiling. “The realtor we signed with laughed at us because we showed up to the meeting with paint cans. He wanted us to look at different places but we knew as soon as we saw it this was the place for our shop.”

“I’m glad it was, I don’t think we would’ve met if you opened somewhere else.” Hotch says.

You shake your head, grabbing his hand to rub your thumb across his knuckles. “I don’t believe in ‘what ifs’, The goddess tends to steer me in the right direction. So I believe when I opened my shop here it was just her steering me towards you.”

Hotch looks at you for a second, smiling. “Come here.” He says, tugging you into a passionate kiss. You sigh deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck, his hands leave small bruises along your hips. You both look at each other headily before you whisper.

“We should go to bed.”

Aaron looks at you sincerely. “You sure, Y/N? I don’t want you to feel press-I can take the couch--”

“Come to bed with me, Aaron.” You cut him off, grabbing his hand. “Please.”

He nods and allows you to lead him to your bedroom. Hotch takes in the space for a second while you enter the bathroom to change. There were plants pretty much all over the room, some hanging, some shelved and some in a planters box outside the cracked window.

He looks at you when you come out the bathroom, only wearing a giant long sleeve Stevie Nicks sweater. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t tolerate Stevie Nicks slander in this house. She’s like the queen of earth witches so whatever comment you have, keep it to yourself.” You say, climbing into bed. Hotch takes this time to undress from the suit he’s wearing. You try not to watch to give him privacy but you can’t seem to take your eyes away as you watch him peel off the layers until he’s left with nothing but his boxers. His broad chest and toned stomach now on display before you. You smiled as he turned back to you, looking into your eyes before he turned out your light and climbed into bed beside you. You instantly turn towards him, laying your head on his chest. He wraps an arm around your waist and you feel a kiss on your temple as you drift off.

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You wake up gasping hours later. You haven’t had a nightmare in years but you suppose with Charlie being back in was only a matter of time before those came back too. You suddenly feel arms around you, you flinch but then you remember last night and Aaron staying over.

“What’s wrong, dove?” He mumbles.

“Nothing, just a nightmare.” You sigh. “What time is it?”

“Little after 9:30.”

You spring out of bed shit. “Shit, Artie! And I have to open the shop—“

“Silena came and picked up Artie for school earlier. And Malia is picking her up.” Hotch says. “And I’ve been instructed to tell you to ‘not under any circumstances come in the shop’ You’re taking a mandatory day off.”

“But— I’ve gotta… there’s nothing for me to do?” You say, confused. It’s been years since you haven’t had anything to do.

“No, dove.” Hotch smiles. “Now, Do you want to come back to bed?”

You weigh your options for a second. “No, but would you like to shower with me?”

Aaron is immediately up, pushing you towards the bathroom as you laugh heartily.

Aaron’s hands were on you the second you were under the warm spray together. One cupping the side of your jaw while the other roamed your body. You sighed heavily, melting into his touch, opening your mouth to grant him permission. He pushes you up against your shower wall, hand wrapping around your neck, not squeezing yet, while the other toys your breast and nipple.

“You’re so beautiful, dove.” He says and you can’t help the whine that leaves your body while he moves his hand to your heated core. “You want me to take care of you?” He asks, you nod. A loud moan ripping through you as he slides a digit into your sex. He just watches you for a minute, fingers thrusting into you repeatedly while he thumb circles you clit in pace. His other hand roams your body, over your breast before settling around your neck again.

“Fuck! G-“ You started, you held your tongue though. As much as times like this made you want to call on any deity in praise. You knew specifically your patron would not approve. You settled for another loud moan.

“You sound so pretty.” Hotch says, a small smile playing on his lips while he kisses your neck. “You going to come for me, Princess?” He asks, you nodded wildly. Unable to do anything but gasp. “Go ahead, dove.” He says while you release yourself on his fingers. Hips moving involuntarily to ride out your orgasm. Hotch kisses every part of your face that he can reach before turning you around so your back was to him.

You feel him pepper small kisses in your shoulders, his erection rubbing against your backside, you moan at the feel of it.

“I need to be inside you, Dove.” He says, hot against your ear. “Can I?” You nod, fast pushing back against him. “I need to hear you say it, Princess.” He says.

“Fuck me.” You say, out of breath almost. “Please, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He says before pulling up your right leg and sliding into you. The both of you groan at the first contact. He grips you tighter as he sets a fast almost bruising pace. The water had run cold but neither of you could bring yourselves to care. You were shaking unbelievably, extremely lucky you had Hotch holding you up.

“Fuck, Y/n.” He sighed, hot in your ear. “You’re so fucking wet and tight.” He moves his hand to your clit, pushing somehow deeper into you. You whimper, pushing back against him. “You gonna come again, Princess?” You nod shaking, moaning loudly trying to hold yourself up against the shower wall. You moan one last time as your release takes over you, your sex clenching tightly around Aaron.

“Fuck, that’s it, dove. You’re such a good girl.” He says, lowly into your ear. “You want me to fill you up?”

“Yes, Sir please!” You say struggling to stay upright due to his brutal pace. He groans deeply into your ear as he gives a few shallow thrust before releasing himself inside of you.

You’re in such a daze you barely notice the rag cleaning you up. Aaron kisses the side of your temple whispering sweet nothings soft in your ear as he cleans you diligently. Pretty soon, the two of you are out the shower and he wraps you in a towel.

“You ok, Dove?” he says, soft to you. “Do you need something?”

You step out of the bathroom to get clothes. “I’m fine, Aaron. I just need a second.”

“I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.” He says, analyzing you.

“Of course not.” You smile. “I’m just trying to figure out what deity to thank for giving me you.”

He smiles back at you, pressing a kiss to your hand.

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You and Aaron hardly had days off. It was one of the qualities you liked about each other, the meticulous work drive. But now that you did have time to yourself (No work, no kids.) You found yourselves unsure what to do.

Which is why you suggested the museum.

It’s been so long since you’ve been able to go to a regular museum that wasn’t a children’s one, The two of you spent the afternoon actually looking at the art and exhibits. Talking quietly to each other, Hotch’s hand at some point ends up in yours and you smile softly at him.

Next the two of you stop at The Crystal Fox, an occult shop that you tend to get your supplies from, as you were running low on candles. Hotch listens diligently as you tell him about the power behind different herbs and candles depending on the deity you serve. He tries to keep up with what you’re saying but in the end it’ll always be too much for him to understand.

When you guys realize it’s getting late, you opt to see a movie after lamenting to each other that it’s been a while since you’ve seen a movie that wasn’t animated garbage. Aaron buys your tickets and you have to threaten him with bodily harm to let you buy the snacks. The two of you settle into the movie, you laying your head on his chest while his arms go around you.

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After the movie, he drives you back to the apartment. You kiss Aaron goodbye a couple times as he seems reluctant to let you go. As you climb the stairs of your apartment, nothing could have prepared you for the site you’d seen.

Your sitter, Malia, is dead on your living room floor. Obviously hit with something heavy multiple times. You run to Artie’s room, choking on sobs not prepared for the site you might see. But the site you see… is nothing.

Your daughter is missing.

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#criminal minds #hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader smut #hotchner x reader smut #bau x reader #hotch x reader smut

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chooseyouovereveryone · 4 years

Text

Brittana Analysis Part 1: Musical Choices (Main Songs)

So anyone who knows me will know I love Brittana a crazy amount, and I spend way too much time breaking down every tiny detail about them. I’ve written a fair few analyses about them on Reddit which people seem to enjoy, and the lovely @hopefulobjectmiracle suggested I posted them on here for people to read. I’ll no doubt add more as time goes on, but going to post up what I have for now. If anyone has any requests for analysis, my ask box is always open because I love doing these :) Happy reading! & congrats for making it through my essays.

Part 1 covers a music analysis of all their main songs and the meaning behind them. Part 2 will cover their smaller parts in group songs etc.

Me Against The Music

This one is less a lyrical analysis, because I don't think the song explicitly relates so much, more a contextual one. The Me Against The Music scene is a shared fantasy that Brittany and Santana have while under anaesthesia. What's telling is that the fantasy they have is an exact replica of the original music video between Madonna and Britney Spears, which is well known for it's heavy undertones of a same-sex relationship. The plot shows Britney chasing Madonna, with Madonna becoming increasingly more susceptible as the video goes on, until right at the end when Britney catches her and goes to kiss Madonna, who then disappears. It's a cat and mouse chase, a fight for power. With Brittany playing Britney, and Santana Madonna, this fantasy represents to me the way that Brittany is chasing Santana trying to break down her walls, and she gets close but just as she does so, Santana pulls back. In the original video Madonna disappears into thin air when Britney tries to kiss her, in the Glee version Santana is switched out for Britney, but the symbolism is the same and foreshadows the Brittana arc that we get in S2. Brittany always gets close to having Santana, but then Santana pulls away and at times she loses her. So for me, the significance in this is 1) the fact they both have a same-sex fantasy about each other and 2) how Brittany's subconscious is filled with the idea of feeling like she is chasing Santana but that every time she gets close, Santana is ripped away.

Landslide

This was a song chosen by Santana to tell Brittany how she feels about her. It may not be the most "obvious love song" choice to everyone but that works for two reasons. The first being that Santana was scared. This was a big move for her, so she certainly wasn't going to go all out and sing an obvious love song. She wanted something with subtlety, something with meaning for her and Brittany rather than for the whole Glee Club to pick up on. The second being that Santana "has the perfect song" instantaneously. From the way she doesn't need to think about it, it's clear that Landslide is already a song she associates with Brittany, and it's probably something she laid alone in her room listening to. Now she's ready to share that. It was a song that had meaning for them, but I do think lyrically it makes sense also. For me it's about Santana realising life is passing her by and that she needs to just be herself. Time makes you bolder is one of the most poignant statements in the song. The whole bit about "building my life around you" could be a double meaning. The first being she's built her life around this friendship she has with Brittany and she's afraid to tap into the relationship dynamic because doing so would inevitably alter the platonic side of things. The second being that she's built her life around this idea that she's straight and she's "normal" but she's now realising as time goes by she needs to be true to herself. I tend to think it's the latter, and that the meaning is around Santana realising she needs to let go now and just be true to herself and to Brittany before she wastes any more time. It's ironic that the next scene shows Brittany choosing Artie, which shows that Santana was already too late and the time had already passed her by. (thankfully that all worked out tho)

Songbird

In contrast to Landslide, Songbird is a very obvious love song. The song explicitly says "I love you" and you can tell by Santana's delivery how much she genuinely means that. Since this is a private performance for only Brittany, Santana is able to choose a song that overtly expresses her feelings. She doesn't have to mask it with subtlety because of the Glee Club, like she did with Landslide. While Landslide was about Santana to giving into her feelings and accepting a change within her, Songbird was the next step from that in freely expressing her love to Brittany. Santana says this in her own words before singing it. Some key lyrics beside the obvious "I love you's" that stick out are "for you, there'll be no more crying" which could relate to all the backwards and forwards Santana has done over the years (telling Britt she loves her, taking it back etc.) and times she possibly made Brittany cry, as well as the fact she has probably spent many years crying over this herself and wishing these feelings could go away, but now she's putting a stop to all of that. Following on from that "I feel that when I'm with you, it's alright, I know it's right" relates to Santana giving into all of those feelings that she's spent years pushing down about the love she has for Brittany being wrong, and really taking hold of her own self acceptance. "To you, I'll give the world. To you, I'll never be cold" is also very fitting for Brittana because it's well noted in the fandom how soft Santana is for Brittany, and how she's the one person she's not cold around. Lastly "I wish you all the love in the world, but most of all I wish it from myself" could relate to Artie in that she wants Brittany to be happy but mostly, she wants to be the one that gets to love her. I think we can all agree the lyrics, the meaning, the performance itself, the delivery from Naya were all *chefs kiss* in this song.

Cherish/Cherish

The song that Santana pays the God Squad to sing for Brittany. We don't actually see Santana choosing the song, but I think it's more likely that Santana picked it since she was paying for it, rather than the God Squad randomly picking one. If it was that kind of scenario where they picked for her, I feel Quinn would have picked the song, on the basis that it was meaningful for Brittany and Santana's relationship. I also imagine this is a song that Santana listened to back in the dark days when she was too afraid to be with Brittany in the way she desired. The lyrics talk a lot about wishing in the past tense. "you don't know how many times I've wished that I had told you, you don't know how many times I've wished that I could hold you" etc. These are likely all the kind of thoughts that Santana had back in the past, and there are also a lot of references to hidden love and hidden feelings within the song.

If I Can't Have You

Okay so Santana might say that this song was about her love for fame, but I'm sorry, I don't believe her. I'm not discounting her wanting fame, but there's no way at least some of that song wasn't aimed at Brittany, just by the way she kept turning to her and gesturing at her. She was pretty much transfixed on her throughout the majority of the performance. But Brittana (Santana in particular) are generally very private with their relationship and in their declarations, so my theory? It was predominantly for Brittany but Santana got embarrassed around all the focus on them, so she gave the excuse about fame and told Brittany later who it was really for. No deeper analysis needed. If that song was Brittany, the lyrics apply to them easily, as they could with most relationships.

I Wanna Dance With Somebody

This one is simple. It's all in the lyrics. Mr Schue sets the assignment not only as a tribute to Whitney, but for the New Directions to express and explore what's going on with them. For Brittany, she just wants to dance with somebody who loves her, that person obviously being Santana. It's highlighted in the performance and how she pulls everyone up before Santana, and finally gets to Santana for the "with somebody who loves me" line, then at the end where she says Santana is her favourite to dance with. It could be that dancing and being happy with Santana is really her only concern at the moment, or it could be deeper than that. It could be that she is deflecting her deeper issues (the fact she is failing which she'd surely know by now) and as a result only wants to focus on dancing with Santana. The two loves in her life (the third being LT) meshed together and combined.

Mine

I did a whole deep analysis on the meaning behind this, because unlike the other songs this really doesn't fit contextually at all. It's a love song based around staying and holding on, and Santana chooses to sing this right before breaking up with Brittany. I never really understood that song choice, until I looked deeper into it. You can read that here if anyone wants to read it in more detail. If you don't want to read that though, in short, I think that Santana chose that song because when she made that choice to break up with Brittany, I think she can almost picture the future ahead of them and how eventually they are going to make it, they are going to be together, but right now she needs to break up with Brittany so that they actually get that happy ending that she can see. And that fits the whole last verse of the song where she's like "we're gonna make it now, I can see it now" etc, which otherwise doesn't make sense contextually when you're about to break up with someone. It's similar to what happens in the original video for Mine, where Taylor meets the love of her life in a cafe and she "sees" the whole future ahead of them (arguments included) as soon as they meet.

Make No Mistake (She's Mine)

Pretty self explanatory with this one because it's all in the lyrics (and the amazing delivery from Naya). She still loves Brittany and in her eyes Brittany belongs with her. It kind of links back to what I just said about Mine, in that I don't think Santana truly expected Brittany to move on. She told her she could because essentially she had to say that, but did she actually think Brittany would move on? I don't think so. I think she always thought breaking up with Brittany was needed to cement their future and that they'd end up better because of it, but then Sam put a spanner in the works which sent her straight back to Lima to fight for Brittany and stake her claim. Of course saying someone can move on and seeing it are two very different things. I really wish they would have kept the parallel version of that with Brittany/Santana/Elaine and that they kept Dancing On My Own in.

Valerie

This one is definitely more contextual than lyrical. Santana picked this number because it was meaningful to Brittany. It was the first number she choreographed, and so Santana learning Brittany's part of that routine and dancing it with Mike, was a way for her to spark something in Brittany that she was currently lacking and reignite her love for dance to remind her of herself. Clearly she chose to do a dance duet because it's Brittany, but it's poignant that she picked the first song that Brittany choreographed, and it was obviously meaningful to Santana too as her first solo. Although more contextual, the lyrics do carry meaning too. "Stop making a fool out of me, why don't you come on over Valerie" could refer to Santana wanting Brittany to get up and dance with her, while "I miss your ginger hair, and the way you like to dress" could relate to A) Santana missing Brittany in general and B) Santana missing the old care-free Brittany who loved to dance and wasn't consumed by MIT and math equations.

Hand In My Pocket/I Feel The Earth Move

Obviously this song was chosen for mash up purposes in line with artists they had to stick to, but I do think the song choice (chosen by Santana) were relevant to her proposal. The lyric "one hand in my pocket" is indicative of her hiding a ring. I really liked how Santana kept getting down on one knee mid performance (I feel like she was doing this teasingly to foreshadow what was to come rather than she was gonna propose mid song since clearly she had a big speech planned- but I love how every time she did it Brittany would get down as well ) and then all the further foreshadowing with the dragging of the chair that she wanted Brittany to sit in. It's not the most "romantic" of duets, but Brittany and Santana are very private so I feel like it made more sense for them to do a fun duet when it was in front of everyone. I do adore the bit where they're singing the "ooh baby when I see your face" etc. and they only have eyes for each other and look so utterly and adorably in love and happy. That bit really has my heart.

Wishin' and Hoping'

A song about Santana from Brittany's perspective which makes a welcome change. The performance itself is obviously a dream sequence when Brittany is thinking about heaven (because being with Santana makes her feel like she's in heaven and angel wings remind her of her ), but I think the lyrics fit well with the whole narrative we see in S6 of Brittany doing a heavy bulk of the wedding planning and trying to make sure everything is perfect for Santana. This is something we later see as causing her stress in the wedding episode, when she is so nervous and obsessed with it being perfect that she becomes a bit of a bridezilla obsessed with superstition. There were also cut lines from Brittany about everything having to be perfect, and though they weren't canon in the end, it's clearly the angle they were going with. This song links to that because it's all about how ultimately just being yourself and showing the person you love that you care is enough, and it almost foreshadows the conversation that Santana later has with Brittany where she says they don't need any of the traditions or the perfect planning because they create their own luck. They love each other, and that's enough. The performance has Brittany singing about wishing and hoping and planning, but it's Blaine, Artie and Sam who sing "all you gotta do is hold her and kiss her and love her and show her that you care", so it's almost as if they are assuring Brittany. Also pointing out the part of the performance where they sing about planning, and Brittany points at her stomach, one of many S6 clues put in there to hint that Brittana will have a family together in the future ❤️

Our Day Will Come

It's another straight forward one that doesn't really take much analysis. It symbolises how the day has finally come for them to get married and start the rest of their lives together, after such a long, hard journey getting there. One of the key lyrics is "no one can tell me that I'm too young to know", which indicates that someone has tried to tell them they're too young to get married. We know that Kurt said this to them, but since Kurt is singing in this duet with them and he apologised, it may be someone else. Santana's dad maybe? Either way, whoever said it to them, they show in this duet that they are certain about their commitment and the future ahead of them. The song also has the lyrics "I love you so, and you love me" which is repetitive of what Santana said to Brittany earlier in the day before they got married when she saw Brittany in her wedding dress. It symbolises what the ending of their whole arc is about. That after a whole lot of doubt, pain and a long road to get there, they are both finally happy together and content in the love they have in each other, and very proud of that love. Santana in particular I feel always doubted Brittany's love for her. Even when Brittany said yes to marrying her, Santana couldn't believe it. On their wedding day, all those doubts are finally gone, and it's actually Brittany who's doing the worrying. The worrying that Brittany does takes us right back to the beginning of Brittana, when Brittany had her own doubts and fears in the relationship because Santana just seemed like something out of reach for her, that she'd never fully get to have. It's like she has a moment of panic, that something could mess this up the way it used to get messed up all those years ago. Our Day Will Come symbolises the end of all of those doubts, and the start of their new lives together.

#brittana #brittany and santana #brittanalysis #brittana analysis #glee analysis #santana and brittany #santana lopez #brittany pierce #glee santana #glee brittana #glee brittany #brittanypierce #santanalopez #brittany s. pierce #glee songs #brittana songs

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shadow-assassin-blix · 4 years

Text

Parent Trap AU

Part 4

Marcus Moreno x Reader

A/N: The dreaded Ex appears. But lots of Family time and Protective!Dad Marcus. Hm. There may only be 2 more parts after this. There will be lots of headcanons about them though.

Everything tag: @mikeisthricedeceased

Pedro Tag: @m-1234 @fioccodineveautunnale @artsymaddie @blo0dangel @mcrmarvelloki

It had been a several months since that first date; things have gone much better. The two of them had gone on several dates, both together and with their kids. The four of them had become their own makeshift family.

Currently Shade and Artemis were spending their Saturday together, baking brownies and cookies while watching some Netflix. Artemis really enjoyed The Vampire Diaries, so an episode was on in the background. As they were mixing the batters, there was a knock on the front door. Shade left Artemis to finish mixing the brownies, to answer it.

She opened the door and immediately frowned at who she saw standing there. It was Mike, her ex, Artemis’ father.

“What are you doing here?” She asked in a whisper, angrily.

“What? I can’t come see my daughter?” He asked in a disinterested voice.

“No. Not when you compare her to your other kids and make her feel less than. Get off my property,” She demanded, moving to shut the door.

He grabbed hold of the door, stopping it from slamming in his face.

“I have a right to see her,” He said loudly, trying to push the door pack open.

“No. No you do not. You didn’t want her when I was pregnant with her. You didn’t want her for the first 7 years of her life. I gave you the courtesy of being in her life, and you have made her feel worthless every time she’s seen you. You don’t get to waltz in when you feel like it and mess up her life the way you did mine. Now, I’m goin’ to say this one more time: Get. Off. My. Property,” She stated firmly, putting her weight into closing the door.

The door reluctantly closed, and she locked it as quickly as she could. She could hear him yell at her through the door, before stomping off.

She slid down to the floor, her back against the door. She sighed heavily, wrapping her arms around her knees, bowing her head down.

“Momma? Are you okay?” She heard Artemis ask.

She lifted her head up, looking at Artemis who was standing in the entryway of the living room.

“Yeah. Yeah baby, I’m okay. C’mere,” She waved her over, opening her arms up for her, straightening her legs out.

Artemis rushed over to her, crawling into her lap. Once Artemis was comfortable, Shade held her to her close, rocking her slightly.

“I don’t want to see him anymore,” She hears Artemis whisper to her.

Shade nodded softly, murmuring she understood.

At that point, her phone rang, and as she answered it, she sighed with relief as she heard Marcus’s voice speak.

“How are my girls doing? We still on for tonight?” Marcus chipper voice asked.

“Yeah. Um. Actually… do you mind if we come over to you? I’ll… I’ll explain when we get there,” Shade wondered as she tried to think quickly.

“Sure! Come over whenever you are ready, we will be here!” Marcus replied still trying to sound happy, but she could hear the concern.

Shade hung up, and the two of them got up. Shade quickly cleaned up the kitchen, tossing the abandoned batters. Shade packed an overnight bag for the both of them, wanting to get away from the house for the evening. Once their bags were ready, the two of them got in the car and drove off. They arrived at Marcus’ home in less than 20 minutes and made their way inside.

Marcus looked at the two of them, worry furrowing his brow.

Artemis dropped her bag, and immediately hugged Marcus. Marcus picked her up, hugging her tightly. Artemis buried her face into his chest, and Marcus spoke to her softly, carrying her to the guest bedroom.

Missy came downstairs and gave Shade a hug in greeting, and looked around confused.

“It’s a long story, kiddo. So, what do we wanna do for dinner?” Shade asked, trying to distract herself.

“I was thinking takeout? Not pizza, but maybe some Chinese?” Missy offered as the two of them walked into the kitchen.

The Hero

Marcus carried Artemis into the guest bedroom, so they could talk. Artemis had quietly said she wanted to talk to him when he had picked her.

The two of them sat down onto the bed, and Marcus waited for her to speak.

“…my dad came by today. He wanted to see me. Mom wouldn’t let him. I don’t want to see him anymore,” Artemis rambled quietly.

Marcus felt a slight swell of anger build within him; Shade had told him in great detail many of the things he had done in the past. He had constantly allowed his kids to bully her and made her feel like she was a burden.

Marcus pressed a kiss to her head, before looking her in the eyes, “Hey, you are perfectly allowed to choose that. If you don’t want to see him, you don’t have to. Besides, you are mine. Just like Missy. You two are both my kids. Nothing will change that.”

Artemis looked at him, tears building up her in eyes, “Really?”

“Really, really. You’re mine. You are my daughter too,” He said firmly.

He hears her sniffle and pulled her into a hug; he allowed her to cry and let it out. It took several minutes, but soon the tears subsided. She pulled away, rubbing her eyes.

“Do you want to go eat dinner, or do you want to relax in here for a bit, and eat later?” Marcus wanted her to have the option to rest if need be.

“Not really hungry. Wouldn’t mind just taking a nap if that’s okay?” She requested, her voice a little hoarse.

“That’s perfectly fine. It’s the summer anyway, sleep schedules are allowed to be off from time to time,” He said with a smile, tucking her into bed after she slipped off her shoes.

Artemis smiled back a little, curling into a ball under the covers. Marcus stayed with her until she fell asleep, turning the light off and leaving the door propped open.

Marcus stepped back out to the kitchen, smiling as Missy told Shade about her day as they wrote down the takeout order to call in. Missy looked up as she heard him stepped in and smiled brightly.

“Hey dad. Where’s Artie?” Missy looked past him as she asked.

“She’s not quite hungry right now, so she’s going to take a nap. You can join her if you want, I’m sure she would like your company,” Marcus proposed as he leaned the kitchen island.

Missy was down the hall in seconds.

It was quiet as the two of them stood there, the air felt slightly tense in some way.

Marcus slowly walked around to Shade, tugging her gently into his arms. She all but collapsed into his embrace. He felt her take a deep breath, releasing it shakily. Marcus simply held her, knowing she simply needed someone to be there for her.

“I can’t believe he just… showed up. Like. Like he hadn’t ignored her for the past year. I hate him. I’m so glad I never put his name on her birth certificate,” She muttered the last piece.

Marcus gently pulled back a bit and looked at her confused.

“Every time….” She began but stopped, taking another shaky breath. “Every time he pops back up, I worry that he’s going to try and take her. Try and… fight for custody of her.”

Marcus sighed sadly, feeling her pain.

“Well. Guess it’s a good thing you have me. He’d have to pry her from my cold dead hands to take her from us. I know… I know this is sudden but… I know two things. One, I want to marry you soon. Two, I want to adopt Artie. You two are my girls, just as much as Missy is. I’m not letting either of you go,” Marcus declared looking her in the eye.

The Artist

Shade blinked rapidly at that declaration. Of all the things she expected him to say, that was not one of them.

“You… you what?” She whispered not quite believing him.

“I don’t mean to unload this all on you suddenly. But I wanted you to know that I want and love both of you. I wanted to talk about this to you in a more romantic setting, but-” His statement was cut off by her kissing him.

Shade couldn’t help herself. It was probably the sweetest thing she had ever heard, and she was overcome with the urge to kiss him. She felt him smile as he kissed back, one of his hands resting at the base of her neck. Shade’s arm found a home around his neck, keeping him close.

When they finally parted, they were panting slightly, trying to catch their breaths.

“I love you,” She said softly to him.

“I love you too honey,” Marcus replied kissing her nose.

They spent the rest of the evening constantly near each other, and the girls when they both got up to eat.

The Hero

The next morning, Marcus slipped quietly out of the bed, kissing Shade on the cheek as he left her. He got dressed and drove back to Shade’s house. The two of them had talked last night about her and Artemis staying a couple more days. So, he was going to drive to their place, to get more clothes for them.

He had a spare key on him, so when he parked, he simply let himself in. It didn’t take him long to pack up a suitcase for both of them, with clothes and some toys/stuffed animals for Artemis. He had just placed the bags in the trunk when another vehicle pulled up.

A tall man with dirty blonde hair, and a scowl on his face stepped out.

“Who the hell are you?” The man asked as he stepped up to him.

“Marcus Moreno. You must be Mike,” Marcus wasn’t impressed by him.

“Yeah. I am. Where is Shade and Artemis?” He demanded to know.

“None of your business. So how about you leave?” Marcus refused to answer.

“How about you to tell me where my brat is and her whore of a mother?” Mike got directly in his face.

Marcus was done. He wasn’t going to allow this cretin bad mouth his family. He couldn’t stop himself. He threw a punch, knocking Mike down.

“I’m going to say this once. You will leave my fiancé and OUR daughter alone. You will not harass them. You will not show up out of the blue like this. You got it? As a Heroic, I have dealt with villains of all shapes and sizes. But men like you? Men who treat their children as disposable? You are the worst,” Marcus said with disgust.

Mike looked up at him with slight fear and realization, “Wait. You’re THAT Marcus Moreno?”

Marcus raised an eyebrow at him, nodding once, daring him to say something else.

Mike scrambled to get up on his feet and ran to his car.

Marcus stared harshly as he watched him drive off. He was then suddenly aware… that he had an audience.

He awkwardly smiled, rubbing the back of his neck as some fans had stopped and recorded the whole scene.

“How long have y’all been there?” He asked somewhat embarrassed.

“The entire time sir. Are you really engaged?” A teenaged girl asked staring at him in awe.

“Yeah. I am,” He answered with a nod.

He heard her go ‘awww.’

The boys of the group asked for an autograph, which he happily did. One of the boys, started to leave but turned back.

“That was really cool… defending your family like that. Wish my dad was like that,” He said to him, before walking away.

He didn’t quite know what to say to that, and once the coast was clear, he got into his car and drove off.

When he returned home, and brought the bags inside, he checked on all 3 of his girls. Missy and Artemis were still passed out. Shade was slowly waking up when he stepped into his bedroom.

“Hi. Where did you go?” She asked sleepily.

“Went to go get you some stuff from your house. Ran into Mike,” Marcus said with a wince thinking back to the situation.

She shot up and stared at him concerned.

“Umm. I might’ve punched him… and referred to you as my fiancé. And called Artemis “our daughter.” It was…. Not my best moment,” Marcus confessed.

She stared at him incredulous… before several snickers escaped.

Her giggles continued for several minutes, which caused Marcus to chuckle a bit as well. Marcus told her everything in detail, especially the part about the audience.

She still giggled but sobered up finally to tell him, “I’m just glad he didn’t try to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Never,” Marcus played it off, with a wave of his hand.

She was about to say something else but there was a powerful knock at the door.

Marcus made his way back downstairs, answering it quickly.

“Miracle Guy? What are you doing here?” He questioned looking at his best friend.

“You haven’t been answering your phone calls or texts,” Miracle said making his way inside.

Marcus pulled out his phone to see he had several missed calls and texts from… everyone.

“HQ has been losing their mind, apparently one of those kids was livestreaming the entire incident. Everyone wants to meet this fiancé of yours. Every news outlet wants an interview about your new love interest and everything,” Miracle explained with a shake of his head.

“Okay. Well. Then they are just going to have to continue wondering. Not that I’m not happy to see you and all MG, but why are you telling me this and not someone from admin?” Marcus asked him curiously.

“Oh. I am here to call a best friend foul. Why haven’t I heard about this fiancé of yours?” MG teased him.

“Marcus? Everything okay?” Came Shade’s voice as she stepped downstairs, dressed.

MG looked at him surprised as he looked between Marcus and Shade.

“Shade? No way. S’that you? Wow. You look great!” MG exclaimed giving her a hug as she stood next to Marcus.

“Hi. Yeah. It’s me. I hear you finally settled down, wife and kid and all,” Shade said with a smile.

He smiled proudly, nodding.

“I’m guessing his little performance caused some problems,” Shade noted hesitantly.

“A little bit, but nothing that can’t be handled,” MG said with a shrug.

“Yeah. If any damage control needs to happen, please let me know what I can do to help,” Shade offered with a half shrug.

“Alright. Good to know,” MG said as he made his way to the front door.

Shade moved to check on the girls, allowing Marcus and MG some privacy again.

“Damn. You have so much to explain man,” MG said lowly.

“I’ll tell ya everything when I come in later today. Suspect I am going to have to give a statement and such,” Marcus promised with a smile.

“You better,” MG said as he took off.

Marcus closed the door, staring at his left hand as he did so. He had taken off his ring a month after he had started dating Shade, feeling it was time. He looked at his leather jacket, specifically the lump that could be seen in one of the pockets.

He hears Shade leading the girls into the kitchen promising pancakes for breakfast. As she did that, he made his way upstairs, closing the door, so he could make some phone calls.

One of which was to his mom. It took only two rings before she picked up.

“Hello my sweet boy. What’s happening?” Came her cheerful voice.

“Hi ma. Um. Some things have happened, and I needed your advice,” He began, before explaining everything that happened this morning.

“I… I want to marry her. Even… I even have the ring… but…” He didn’t know how to explain his feelings.

“The closer you get to Shade, the farther you get away from Isabelle?” His mother supplied.

“… Yes. Guess… part of me never thought I would wind up here again. Deeply in love with a woman that I want to make mine forever,” Marcus whispered looking down at his lap.

“But that doesn’t mean you are forgetting Isabelle. You still have the memories you shared with her. If you feel in your heart that she makes you happy, and that you want to take that step with her, then do it. Isabelle wouldn’t want you to put your life on hold,” His mother tells him softly.

He hummed softly, “You’re right. Guess… I guess I’m just scared.”

“Just because you’re a Heroic doesn’t mean you are fearless, my dearest. Now, go take care of work and tonight talk things out with Shade,” His mother ordered.

Marcus hung after thanking her and made several more calls to work. An hour later he had to make his way into work and make official statements.

The Artist

Shade took care of the kids while Marcus did what he needed to do. As the girls played outside, she suddenly got inspired to draw. She pulled out her sketchbook from her things and began to draw. She sat outside with the girls as she drew, smiling at the giggles she heard occasionally.

Eventually, she felt the girls hover over her shoulders to watch her work. She was quietly drawing Marcus in his superhero outfit, with a hand on his hip and the other hovering over his sword handle.

It was the first time she had drawn him in a very long time and for the first time she had so many ideas floating in her mind. She stopped when the girls wanted to hang out and sat her sketchbook on a table inside the house. The three of them watched some movies. Marcus didn’t come home for dinner, and the girls went to bed at about 10pm.

Shade waited for him in the living room, returning to her sketches. It was close to 11pm before the front door open and Marcus walked in and collapsed onto the couch next to her.

“Tired?” She asked setting her book and pencil down.

He turned his head to look at her and nodded tiredly. He pulled his arms out of his jacket, just letting it sit there.

“Today was a mess but everything is settled for now,” Marcus said with a sigh.

He was quiet for a moment, reaching into one of his pockets. He pulled out a small velvet box.

“Not… not quite how I wanted to do this but,” He said as he handed it to her.

She took it from him, slowly opening it. Inside was an engagement ring that had a rainbow of gems lining the band.

“Not going to lie… I’ve… I’ve carried that since college. I kept it in a lockbox when we broke up. I was going to say some cheesy line of ‘my world was black and white, and you brought color to it.’ When we started to date, I took off my old wedding band, thinking it was time. The past 10 months just made me remember how much I loved you when we were younger and that love has just grown exponentially,” He began to explain.

She listened to him closely, her eyes flicking between him and the ring.

“It took me a long time to get over most of the guilt I felt with moving on with my life. It still creeps up every now and again, like… this morning. But I want you to stay in my life. You make me so happy. You and Artemis both have are so wonderful. I can even see Missy changing for the better. She’s so much happier with Artemis in her life. You… don’t have to decide now, if you are overwhelmed, but I was serious when I said I wanted to marry you,” Marcus concluded taking a deep breath.

Shade stared at him in shock. It took a minute for it to fully process what he said. She blinked rapidly as she stared at the ring, and felt tears welling up in her eyes.

She slowly pulled the ring from its box. She examined it with a smile that slowly grew. She slipped it onto her left ring finger, noting that it fit perfectly.

“No time needed. I love you and Missy too. Artemis… was so shy before she met her. I never would’ve thought she’d hit a boy to defend someone being bullied,” Shade joked thinking back.

Marcus chuckled, nodding his head.

Marcus leaned over to kiss her. Shade kissed him back enthusiastically, the two of them smiling at each other. The two of them heard giggles around the corner followed by a shushing.

The two of them shook their heads, and Marcus called out, “Ladies. What are two doing up at this hour?”

The two of them waited for a moment before they heard two sets of feet rushing to them. The girls ran to them, jumping into their laps, excitedly talking, and asking questions at rapid fire.

The two of them laughed at their excitement and waited for them to settle to answer questions.

Missy was sitting in Shade’s lap, while Artemis was in Marcus’.

“Well. The two of you are bright and intelligent. I guess we should talk this out with you two,” Shade said looking at the girls. “Are the both of you okay with us getting married?”

The two of them looked at each other and smiled, nodding happily.

“Does that mean we will be sisters?” Artemis asked somewhat shyly.

“Yes. It does. Are you okay with me being your dad?” He asked her directly.

“… kinda thought you were already,” Artemis said quietly, looking down.

Marcus nodded his head, and Shade could see some tears forming in his eyes, as he hugged her.

“Yeah. I am sweet girl,” He told her.

“Missy. What about you? Are you… are you okay with me being your mom?” Shade asked her hesitantly.

Missy was quiet for a moment, before answering, “Yeah. There’s lots of room for you and Artie in my heart.”

Shade thought back to one of their first conversations and realized what she was referring to.

“Yeah? That’s good to know. Do you remember what else I said that day?” She asked her.

“That you don’t want to replace my mom. Though… like Artie… I kinda thought of you as my mom already,” Missy admitted.

Shade smiled at her sweetly, hugging her.

“So. We are all okay with making this family legit in the eyes of the law? Say aye,” Shade said jokingly.

There were three ‘ayes’ in response followed by several giggles.

The four of them spent some time talking further, before heading to bed.

Marcus and Shade spoke more about details, like, wanting to make the engagement long while they found a home that was big enough for all four of them. The two of them didn’t want to rush anything and wanted to make sure they got everything ready. The wedding wasn’t going to be large grand affair; something small for them and their friends and family.

They didn’t have anything set in stone yet, but they knew one thing for sure. They had each other, and their girls were happy.

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno #parent trap au

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

Smalltown Bringdown 2

Warnings: blood, violence, more to be added.

This is dark!biker!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You begin your search for a new job but times are tough.

Note: Here’s part two. I’m planning on making this a relatively short series, think Eye for an Eye. I’m having fun with Biker!Bucky and next chapter should be🔥 To those who take the time to read, thank you. Love you guys!

Please, leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The Birch Branch Bakery was just across the street from the Chipped Saucer. The old plaque beside the door read 'Est. 1887'. It had passed hands from one Hollorin to the next. Barbara, or Babs, Hollorin was the latest in the line of plump delicatessens. She had her father's rosy cheeks and boomong laugh. You faintly remembered the round old man from your childhood though he had long passed.

Babs smiled as you entered. She was rarely anything but cheery, certain to offer any child a sample of her famous chocolate mousse. You slid your resume across the counter and she offered you a taste. You passed.

"It's a long shot, I know," You said. "But Jimmy's clearing house… well really, just tossing out an old lamp."

"Oh, hon, you know I usually just hire students. I can’t offer many hours. No tips either."

"I know," You shrugged. "But I could find something else to fill in the blanks."

"I'll think about it, okay, sweets?" She took your resume from the counter.

"Thanks," You paused before the glass display. "Could I get a slice of lemon meringue? You know mom would kill me if I left without grabbing her a piece."

“Of course, dear.” Babs smiled and took the pie out from the stand.

She set a slice carefully in a box and tied a bow around it with string; the usual fare. You took it with a smile and thank you.

The door rang as you stepped out onto the street. Your last stop was the used bookshop/hobby store, Lloyd’s. You pushed inside as you balanced the box in one hand and greeted the old man sat behind the counter. Lucius was half off his stool as he bent over the model plane and carefully dobbed some clue along its body. His hair was streaked grey and black and lines betrayed a smile even when he was grimacing at a particularly tedious project.

“Hey, Lu,” You greeted as he looked up through his narrow glasses. “Just figured I’d drop by…” You neared and held the box against your hip and rested your folder on it. “Hand in a resume for good measure. I know, I know, not much going around but--”

“You not at the Saucer anymore?” He finished securing the wing and sat up with a groan.

“Not since a few days ago.” You slipped out a page and carefully placed it beside the toy plane. “We’ll see if I’m in the government’s lap by the end of the month, though.”

“Oh, dear, that’s terrible,” He took your resume and held it out as he tried to focus through his lenses, “That Jimmy’s a real slimy one. I’ll spare you my true thoughts, out of courtesy.”

“I’ll say it myself. He’s a bastard,” You added. “You know I never mind your language, Lu.”

“Certainly your mother didn’t like me teaching you all those pretty words,” He chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.” He turned and set the paper down behind him on the shelf of unsorted books. “Might not be full hours but I could use a hand or two. Let me have a look at the books and I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks,” You said. “Mind if I have a look before I go.”

“By all means,” He grabbed his tube of glue, “You always were my best customer.”

You nodded and headed back to your favourite section. He always had the most eclectic collection of biographies. A man in love with cinema, he’d given you a copy of Lena Horne’s memoir and stoked your own love for the past. Nestled in this shop was a peculiar array of nostalgia. A time you never knew but felt like your own. A childhood spent in the golden era with Astaire and Hayworth.

After a moment perusing, you chose a book on Tallulah Bankhead and headed for the counter. Lucius made no move to quit his gluing. You waved the book at him as you kept the folder and box under your other arm.

“On the house, dear,” He looked up briefly. “Your out a job and poor Tallulah’s been on that shelf for years. You give her a nice home. She’ll keep you good company.”

“Thanks,” You smiled and slid the book under the box as you adjusted your grip and moved your load in front of your stomach. “I’ll be back next week, Lu.”

“You will. I wanna know what you think of it.” He said. “She’s a special one.”

“Alright,” You chuckled and headed for the door. He cursed under his breath as he continued to fiddle with the model.

You found yourself back on the main street. The old clock tower struck one in the afternoon and you headed towards the library. A black speck caught in the corner of your eye; the same which had drawn you several times that day. It was as if the town’s spectre was following you on your tour. You carried on and ducked into the small alcove between the suit shop and the pawn broker’s. You heard Lloyd’s door open and close.

You waited, five, maybe ten minutes, until you heard it again. The same footfalls that had echoed your own. That you had shrugged off as an effect of the small town. It was easy to feel followed in a place like this. It was hard not to cross paths with the same person several times over. The soles scuffed over the sidewalk as they trailed your former steps and the shadow in leather passed you by. You emerged from the alley and huffed.

“There a reason you’re following me?” You asked.

Bucky stopped and chuckled as he pushed his shoulders back. He turned slowly, a smile on his face. “Am I?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice earlier.” You growled. “Now, you don’t seem like you’re in need of employment and you’re not exactly the social butterfly of Birch.”

“I’m not?” He wondered. “People talk to me freely enough.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing? Talking?” You challenged.

“Well, I don’t get a chance to explore the town much,” He shrugged.

“And who would ever want to do that? You live here a week and you can retrace the map in your sleep,” You narrowed your eyes. “You still haven’t told me why you’re following me.”

“Can’t say that I am,” He stepped closer as he stared at the folder atop the small box in your arms. “How is the job hunt going anyway?”

Your nostrils flared but you didn’t answer. You could only watch as he opened the folder and slipped a copy of your resume free. He made a show of reading it before folding it and slipping it inside his jacket.

“Offer stands.” He said.

“Answer too,” You assured him. “If you’re so curious, I’m just now going to see my mother at the library. Save you the trouble of following me… you don’t seem the reading type.”

He grinned and tucked his hands in his pockets. “The pie will be a nice surprise,” He turned to let you through “Unfortunately, I do have to get back.”

“Mmmhmm,” You grumbled and slowly edged by him.

You felt his gaze on you as you passed him. The heat of it lingered as you continued down the sidewalk. You didn’t dare to look back. You knew he was watching you. The eerie sensation did not relent until you shielded yourself beyond the library doors.

💀

You waited three days before you followed up. Things moved slow in a small town but not everything. Change was stark, too. As you stepped inside the same doors as days before, you found your welcome not so warm. The tea shop, also a cafe, was the first on your agenda. Doris smiled and took your order but was evasive when you asked after your resume. It was much the same at each stop you made. A hollow weight settled in your chest.

Babs was her usual jovial self but paled as you asked if she had even part-time hours for you. She shook her head and muttered about low sales in a small town and all those other excuses. You frowned but accepted the rejection. You bought a half-dozen macadamia cookies and headed out. At Lloyd’s, you found Lucius amid several stacks of book as he raised his brows at the titles.

“Lu,” You greeted. “Hey.”

“You finished that book already?” He asked without looking away.

“Halfway there,” You said. “I was just… checking in.”

“Mmm,” He set a book in one of the neater stacks. “Yes, I supposed you’d be by sooner than later.”

You stepped into the middle of the mess and glanced around. He was sorting by author and genre. No doubt a new haul from a resident clearing their shelves. You took a book and placed it in its respective stack. He paused and looked at you.

“My girl,” He began hesitantly.

“I know, you got nothing for me,” You nodded. “Just like everyone else. It’s okay.”

“Well, that’s not what I was gonna say at all,” He reproached. “I don’t care what that goon says, I could use someone on Sundays and you’ll get a few hours Mondays and Tuesdays. Not much, I know, but I gather it could help.”

“Oh, Lu,” You smiled and squeezed his arm. “So… he… what did he say to you?”

“Some nonsense about books being flammable, like I don’t know,” He scoffed. “I got insurance on this place. My granddaddy was no fool when he opened this place. He wants to burn it down, he can go right ahead. My payout will cover fresh paperbacks and the newest gadgets. He’d be doing me a favour, really.”

“You don’t have to--”

“I seen it before. As young as you are, I know you have too.” He continued sorting as he spoke. “You should’ve never pulled that knife but were I a younger man and there, I might’ve done the same.”

“Trust me, I know it was stupid,” You uttered. “Especially now but… Artie’s heart was about to burst.”

“Artie’s been on the edge of a heart attack for six years. I’m surprised those brutes didn’t push him over it,” Lu shook his head. “You got a place here, dear. Maybe look for something online. I don’t know much, just enough to order stock, but I’m sure you could find something. Town like this and a man like him, you won’t.”

“Thanks,” You set another sci-fi novel in a pile. “I appreciate it, really.”

“I know it’s not much,” He frowned.

“No, no, I’ll make do,” You assured him. “But Lu…”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t go getting yourself hurt over me.”

“I’m an old man.” He winked at you and grabbed another book, “I’ll do whatever I want.”

💀

You stopped in front of your mother’s house. You were tempted to kick over the metal beast that greeted you. It wasn’t hard to guess at its owner. You held your key up and admired it. A nice long scratch along the gas tank? Maybe a tear in the leather seat? You weren’t that stupid.

You took your usual detour to the back. Ash was sitting at the back door, growling. He perked up when you came through the gate but didn’t move. He let you pet him but you kept him outside as you slipped inside. You listened as you kicked off your shoes to the voices in the kitchen.

“That’ll be her,” Your mother said. She was friendly enough but you sensed the tension in her voice. “You need sugar?”

“No, black is fine,” Bucky answered and the hairs stood on your neck.

You walked into the kitchen and ignored the man at the table as you crossed to your mother. She filled a mug with coffee as you set down the box of cookies.

“Mom,” You greeted her with a smile and turned to the unexpected and unwanted visitor with arms crossed. “What do you want?”

“Hon, be nice,” Your mother poked you as she picked up the cup. “He just came here to talk.”

“Here,” You turned and took the mug from her. “You guys done talking then?”

“Not with me,” She said quietly and whispered as she turned her back to him. “Don’t go starting more trouble.”

You brushed past her and went to the table. You set the mug down and slid it across to him. “Fine. Talk.”

“You know, Mel, I think I’ll take some milk,” He said over your head.

You rolled your eyes as the fridge opened and closed. Your mother placed the carton of milk beside him with a small spoon and retreated.

“Now,” He poured the milk and stirred his coffee slowly. “I just wanted to see how the job hunt was going.”

“I think you know.” You sneered. “Mom, can you excuse us for a minute?”

“I don’t--” She began but stopped. “I’ll go check on Ash.”

You waited for her to leave. You folded your hands on the table and glared at Bucky.

“How dare you come into my mother’s house like this.” You snapped. “You think you’re scaring me?”

“If I wanted to scare you, you wouldn’t have walked into such a peaceable scene,” He returned evenly. “I don’t do half-measures.”

“Don’t you threaten her,” You retorted. “You can hound me but I will not have you going after her.”

“I haven’t done anything.” He smirked. “Really, you are paranoid. I have offered you a job and I have even offered my personal reference to your prospective employers.”

“Bullshit,” You said. “I know what you’re doing. I told you, I’m not interested. I got a job.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow. “Where’s that?”

“None of your business,” You snarled. “Now thank you for the offer but I will again politely decline it. Thank you.”

“How much?” He asked.

“What?”

“How much is he paying you? I know it’s that grumpy old man with his books,” He scoffed. “Twelve hours a week. You think you can survive on that?”

“I think I told you no three times and I’m not gonna say it again.” You said.

“Sixteen an hour plus tips,” He took a drink of coffee. “People are generous when they drink.”

“Not interested.” You said through your teeth.

“Eighteen,” He countered. “Benefits too. You think Lucy gets her kids to the dentist for free.” You repeated yourself and he chuckled as he ran his fingertips along the stubble that lined his jaw. “Twenty.”

“You almost done your coffee?” You asked.

“You were a lot quieter in school,” He mused. “Didn’t realize you were so damn stubborn.”

“You need a waitress and you offering money like that, you can just head down to the Saucer and shout it out. They’ll be snapping at you.” You said.

His lips curled and he gripped the edge of the table. He took another gulp of coffee and cleared his throat. “I don’t know if you’re that oblivious or you’re playing with me.”

You were quiet. You stared at him dumbly. Heat crawled up your spine.

“I don’t want a waitress. I want you.” His jaw squared and his eyes sparked. “And while it was cute to see you holding that knife to my man’s throat, I can’t have you running around kicking dirt in my face.”

You swallowed and kept your expression staunch. “Not interested.” You enunciated the words carefully.

He clicked his tongue and tilted his head. He laughed darkly to himself and finished his coffee. His chair scraped loudly as he stood and took his coat off the back of it. He pulled the leather on as his eyes met yours.

“You just remember what happened to your daddy.” He intoned.

“I don’t remember him at all,” You said through the twinge in your chest. “Your club made sure of that, didn’t they?”

He growled and rounded the table. You looked up at him as his fingertips glossed over the tabletop. He leaned down until his lips nearly touched your cheek.

“You’ll remember your ma, though.” Your hand shot up and he recoiled, quick to catch it. He smiled as he squeezed your wrist. “You think about my offer one last time.” He said slowly. “You can come get your apron on Monday… or I’ll be dropping by on Tuesday.”

He stood straight and released you. He smoothed his leather jacket and strolled through to the back hallway. The door opened and you heard your mother’s surprised greeting and Bucky’s sickly farewell. Your mouth was dry and your heart raced as if you had just run a mile.

You stared at the old oval frame between the windows. Your mother under the arm of a man who shouldn’t have been a stranger. A man who you seemingly took after. Who, despite his absence, could teach you an important lesson; know when to stop pushing your luck.

#smalltown bringdown #series #Bucky Barnes #biker!bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!fic #dark fic #fic #mcu #marvel #au #biker au #captain america

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merinelsa · 3 years

Note

Have you ever done a ranking list of your favourite episodes?

not really , the thing with me is that i never rewatch tv shows . i binge through them once and then just watch few scenes in yt , but never rewatch any of it even if it was one of my favourite show. Glee is the only exception , though i really only watch very few eps from the earlier seasons and rewatched s5-s6 twice , though i’d skipped 100, new directions and the wedding during both my rewatches. there are eps like new new york and wonderful that i watch time to time as comfort eps playing in the background . from s3, first time and big brother are the only eps i have rewatched

i’d only watched glee for the first time last year , so like it’s not been that long to warrant a rewatch , but since i’d binged most of it in one stretch ( had taken a one month break b/w s3ep7 and ep8 because of how much i was getting tired of the shitty storylines of s3 , hence it being my least fave ) i forgot a lot of the non klaine stuff.

but i’ll try to rank the eps , just know that i’m very biased to klaine/kurt/blaine storylines . and the seasons too are ranked in the order i like them

6 . season 3

22. i kissed a girl

21. pot o gold

20. prom-asaurus

19. yes/no

18. i am unicorn

17. mash off

16. the spanish teacher

15. asian f

14. on my way

13. props

12. choke

11. hold on to sixteen

10. saturday night gleever

9. michael

8. goodbye

7. big brother

6. nationals

5. heart

4. extraordinary merry christmas

3. dance with somebody

2. purple piano project

1. first time

5. season 1

22. the rhodes not taken

21. funk

20. showmance

19. vitamin d

18. hairography

17. ballad

16. mashup

15. throwdown

14. the power of madonna

13. mattress

12. acafellas

11. dream on

10. home

9. pilot

8. hell-o

7. sectionals

6. preggers

5. bad reputation

4. wheels

3. journey to regionals

2. theatricality

1. laryngitis

4. season 4

22. britney 2.0

21. sweet dreams

20. lights out

19. shooting star

18. all or nothing

17. feud

16. thanksgiving

15. the role you were born to play

14. glease

13. swan song

12. sadie hawkins

11. naked

10. makeover

9. girls and boys on film

8. diva

7. glee,actually

6. i do

5. dynamic duets

4. the new rachel

3. break up

2. guilty pleasure

1. wonderful

3. season 2

22. britney/brittany

21. the substitute

20. comeback

19. special education

18. a very glee christmas

17. the sue sylvester shuffle

16. night of neglect

15. new york

14. funeral

13. never been kissed ( except for the klaine part, the whole ep is a mess)

12. rocky horror glee show

11. rumours

10. audition

9. sexy

8. grilled cheesus

7. blame it on the alcohol

6. prom queen

5. born this way

4. silly love songs

3. duets

2. furt

1. original song

2. season 6

13. the rise and fall of sue sylvester

12. hurt locker part 1

11. child star

10. homecoming

9. we built this glee club

8. what the world needs now

7. hurt locker part 2

6. a wedding

5. dreams come true

4. 2009

3. jagged little tapestry

2. transitioning

1. loser like me

1. season 5 ( i’m not going to rank the quaterback )

19. opening night

18. 100

17. tina in the sky with diamonds

16. city of angels

15. bash

14. a katy or gaga

13. new direction

12. end of twerk

11. previously unaired christmas

10. trio

9. movin out

8. the back up plan

7. puppet master

6. love love love

5. old dogs new trick

4. untitled rachel berry project

3. frenemies

2. tested

1. new new york

now top five glee episodes over all

5. original song : don’t ask me what happened besides klaine in this because i truly don’t remember . but the klaine parts are pure heavenly. s2 klaine is something i missed a lot and didn’t appreciate enough during my first watch but rewatching some klaine centric eps has made me appreciate their friendship a lot more. even the stuff leading upto the kiss is fantastic , it’s also an ep that shows how rachel and blaine can get similar but how they react to criticisms and how blaine tries to include everyone when pointed out unlike making a fit out of it with rachel is where they diverge and makes these incredibly different personalities .and the kiss was just to good and sparks were flying everywhere and it is something that glee could never recreate with any other couple. and “ reminds you of your mom’s funeral doesn’t it “” the casket was bigger but yes “ just proves that they are equally dumbasses that fit each other so well

4. wonder-ful : this is just pure comfort ep. it’s so bright and upbeat in the middle of the previous dark eps. so much kurt and klaine . a bit more focus on kurt’s mental health issues, which will later be forgotten but it’s good over here. supportive blaine as always just highlighting how much they understand each other. a lot of burt which is always a plus . a very good mercedes plotline which should’ve been given more time but still is one of the better ones she gets.just seeing how light and loving kurt turns once burt is finally in the safe zone. and ‘you get kinda cute when you get nervous’ and ‘with you in it a wondeful life’ and whatever homoerotic stuff that is going on b/w rachel and cassie

3. Loser like me : the pure angst . i love storylines where they hit the rock bottom from such a happy place and have to find their way to the top by leaning in on each other and supporting each other. great klaine scenes, s5b we where pushed to believe that kurt had it all together, but we finally got to see kurt being an absolute mess and realizing how he contributed to their relationship not working out instead of pitting it all on s4 cheating . confident got help all by himself in a better position blaine , rachel finally getting a storyline that’s interesting and makes her one to root for . This ep always gives me the chills and makes me excited for the rest of the season

2. Tested : It’s genuinely one of the funniest eps ever. amazing rachcedes moment . the guys presenting one of my fave family dynamics in the show. great samcedes and klaine plotline . and i love the way liab is shot , such a well choreographed performance and it really looks like chris and darren had so much fun doing it.

1. New new york : this ep is the perfect mixture of fluff , comedy and angst. And on top of that we get never tried before combination of dynamics like rachel and artie as well as our favourite dynamics like klaine, blam, kelliot . also , out of all the klaine plotlines, this feels to me the most realistic one and really shows how much they want to work out their highschool relationship into an adult setting but they’re still young clueless inexperienced couple who doesn’t really know what they’re doing but still trying to work it out the way they think is the best one to protect their relationship , showing how much they care for each other as we enter into the crazy hard parts of their relationship. also , to see these whole set of highschool friends trying to navigate their way into this busy adult life is so fun to watch .

#mer answers #1908jmd #thanks a lot for the ask #i'm really sorry for responding late #this has been in the works for the past two days working out each seasons one by one lol #also i've not been the best mentally and physically #i've got this terrible cold that i'm trying to contain before i have to travel #and i'm just emotionally drained for absolutely no reason #but yeah this was fun to do and think about #but i'm pretty sure all of this ranking will change once i get to rewatching the show maybe several years later

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mister-fleck · 5 years

Text

full of surprises: arthur fleck x reader

Prompt: Could you perhaps write a fic where Arthur has a praise kink?

“So, will you come?”

Shifting uncomfortably on the locker room bench, Arthur’s face scrunched into a hesitant wince. “I don’t know, Randall. Clubs like that aren’t really my scene.”

“C’mon, buddy,” Randall took a seat next to him and placed one of his meaty paws on Arthur’s shoulder, shaking him gently. “Don’t be a wuss. Birthdays don’t happen all that often, pal.”

Tilting his head, Arthur eyed him wearily. He had personally worked twelve birthday parties this week. “They kind of do.”

Randall tightened his grip and Arthur bit back the urge to shy away at the muted pain. He knew that he’d never hear the end of it if he acted like a frail little girl.

“It’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t,” Randall told him plainly, leaning in closer and raising his eyebrows expectantly. His bulky figure blocked out the sunlight from the window behind him and it casted a nasty shadow. “I thought you were my boy, Artie.”

My boy.

A wave of nausea washed over Arthur and he had to look away. There was something about that nickname, about the way Randall towered over him, about how he constantly reeked of gin and motor oil — it always smacked him in the face with unpleasant deja vu.

“I don’t want you to be upset with me,” Arthur eventually found himself mumbling, feeling helpless. He fiddled with the leather tongue of his clown shoe, green eyes focused on his own bitten-down nails and calloused hands. “I’d hate it if you were mad.”

“Then show up.” After firmly clapping Arthur twice on the back — almost hard enough to make him fall off the bench — Randall pushed himself onto his feet with an ugly grunt, slung his bag over his shoulder, and made his way toward the stairs. “Oh, don’t forget to bring some cash. You’ll be useless there without any.”

As Randall stomped off, Arthur tried desperately to figure out what it was about him that made him want to puke and hide. Every interaction with him left him with a headache and there was only so much of it that Arthur could take. He rubbed at his eyes after a few minutes of not blinking and forced himself to get ready for the long walk home.

Saturday night came quickly. With his mother tucked away safely in bed, Arthur paced around his living room, hair mussed and brow knitted. It had been an entire week since the forced invitation and he still wasn’t even remotely prepared.

“Don’t be a wuss,” Arthur scolded himself, echoing Randall’s distaste. He pulled the sleeves of his sweatshirt past his hands, finding comfort in the habit. “It’s just a party. They’re just dancers.”

Still muttering to himself, Arthur made his way over to the china cabinet against the wall and lifted the lid off of one of the delicate teapots. Inside was a meager amount of crumpled bills, his secret savings account that he had set aside for emergencies. It pained him to have to dip into what little he had, but with a grimace Arthur blindly grabbed at a handful and shoved the cash into the front pocket of his pants.

He’d be the butt of a joke if he showed up penniless to a strip club.

The subway ride there was bumpy and crowded and it didn’t help ease the queasiness developing in Arthur’s gut. His brain had kicked into overdrive, imagining every bad scenario and uncomfortable situation. What if he arrived first? What if the strippers didn’t want to go anywhere near him? What if he drank too much, made a fool of himself?

Arthur had never been taught how to properly act around a woman, let alone one scantily clad and asking for money. He knew that he’d have to be a little forward to fit in with the others, but he’d hate himself if he overstepped and made one of the dancers uncomfortable. A little lightheaded, Arthur lifted the fabric of his sweatshirt to his nose and took a sniff, making sure he didn’t reek.

Fifteen minutes later, he stood alone outside of The Centerfold. It was tucked away in the corner, the sidewalk illuminated only by the buzzing neon sign perched crookedly above the entrance. Arthur’s stomach twisted and he puffed out a sigh, scratching at his neck. He felt like a nervous schoolboy, but instead of teachers lurking the halls there were half-naked women.

“Hey there, Arthur,” came a soft voice beside him. Arthur looked around — and then down, to where Gary was smiling up at him kindly. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

“Yeah,” Arthur chuckled, pushing back his hair. He felt a little relieved now that there was a familiar face. “Neither did I.”

Gary shoved one of his hands in his pockets, the other holding onto a white envelope. He looked calm, almost bored. “It’s not too bad in there. Smells a little like piss and sweat, but aside from that — nothing awful.”

Arthur was too focused on the card in Gary’s hand to digest any of what he was saying. It had dawned on him that he hadn’t gotten any kind of present for Randall. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath, leaning in to speak privately through his teeth. “I forgot to get him a gift.”

“I can add your name to the card, if you want,” Gary offered with a shrug. Arthur couldn’t help but smile a little — Gary was genuinely the only person aside from his mother that didn’t resent his existence.

“Are you sure?” He dug his shoe timidly into the gravel beneath his feet. “That would be great —”

But before Gary could open the envelope, Randall was pushing open the doors and grinning broadly at the two of them.

“Took you two clowns long enough. That for me?” He didn’t give Gary the chance to respond as he snatched the card out of his hand. “Better be somethin’ good. C’mon, we got a great table near the stage.”

Arthur felt his stomach drop and he exchanged a wary glance with Gary before letting Randall lead the way.

It didn’t come as a surprise to Arthur that he ended up having to frequently rush to the bathroom to hide his laughing fits. The club was a brand new social experience for him, one that he had never imagined having to tackle, and the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself. The place was packed with guys that would happily taunt him if given the chance to. After decades of bullying, Arthur could spot them from a mile away.

Of course, the party of men he sat with all assumed that Arthur was escaping to the restroom to whack off, overwhelmed with all of the breasts and ass on display. The women working at The Centerfold were all beautiful, Arthur couldn’t deny it, but he was wound so tight with anxiety that he couldn’t even consider being turned on by any of them.

Upon returning to the table for the fifth time, Randall yanked him back into his chair by the fabric of his hoodie. “Just realized you didn’t get me anything, you son of a bitch,” he jabbed, and Arthur couldn’t tell if he was playing around or actually offended.

“I’m sorry, Randall,” Arthur spoke up quietly, rubbing at his arm. He tried to conjure up an explanation. “I think I left it on the counter at home.”

“Did Mommy help you wrap it?” One of his other coworkers cut in, leaning in with a sloppy grin. With the exception of Arthur, the birthday group hadn’t wasted any time on getting plastered. “Or did you do it by yourself like a big boy?”

Embarrassed, Arthur felt himself shrink in his chair, not knowing what words he could string together to defend himself. He settled instead for laughing a little, hoping to hide his discomfort and feign amusement.

“Don’t sweat it, pal,” Randall scooted his chair forward and slung a heavy arm over Arthur’s shoulder, making him nauseous all over again. “I know exactly what you could do to make up for it.”

Instantly sick, Arthur visibly shuddered and tried to push away that terrible deja vu. When he spoke, it was barely audible over the pulsing club music. “What is it?”

Randall leaned back — arm still very much around Arthur — and put two fingers into his mouth to produce a piercing whistle. A dancer from three tables over turned around on her heel, scanned the room and made her way over.

“You see, Artie, this isn’t just any strip club,” he informed him smugly through a sleazy chuckle. “They have… an array of special services available.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Arthur told him meekly, wishing he hadn’t left his cigarettes at home.

“I took the liberty of asking this young lady here to tell you all about it.” Randall finally retracted his arm, but only to smack the woman on the ass. She didn’t seem phased, but didn’t look particularly happy about it either.

“Hey there, boys,” she drawled in a low, silky voice, slender hands resting on her hips. She was wearing a black brassiere and a matching thong, red high heels giving her a couple of extra inches. Her eyes met Arthur’s and he twitched under her stare. “Is this Artie?”

Randall downed the rest of his whiskey and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, letting out a belch. “Yup. Take him away, hot stuff.”

Arthur stiffened, gripped at his throat in anticipation. This was all too much at once. “What’s going on? What do you mean?”

The woman sauntered around Randall and reached down to tuck a lock of hair behind Arthur’s ear. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of you.”

—

You were able to spot him right away. He matched the brief description that had been given to you earlier — skinny, unkempt, timid. Kind of a loser. You fought back the urge to yawn. This wouldn’t be the first time you fucked a virgin. He’d be your fourth this month.

This really wasn’t how you had envisioned your twenties playing out. You were supposed to go to a respectable university, study psychology or ethics, maybe find some sort of garden apartment and adopt a couple of dogs — but all of that had gone to shit after getting knocked up at nineteen. You of course loved your son, he was your entire life, but being a single mother at twenty-five in downtown Gotham had unfortunately forced you into a dirty profession that guaranteed decent pay.

But you’d do anything to offer your son a good, clean life. And if that meant blowing strangers Friday and Saturday nights — well, that’s life.

Taking the man’s hand in yours, you gently led him through the bodies and crowded tables. His palm was sweaty as he stumbled behind you, almost tripping a few times over misplaced bar stools. The birthday boy Randall hadn’t been discreet about the purpose of all of this — he was nearly crying with laughter as he informed you that ‘his pal Artie’ would probably have an anxiety attack or cum in his pants thirty seconds into being alone with you.

You didn’t find the former funny at all — the latter was something you had experienced a dozen times, nothing special — and you ran your thumb over the back of the man’s hand as the both of you pushed through thick red drapes.

“How are you doing tonight, Artie?” You asked him smoothly, attempting to loosen him up a bit. He seemed like a good enough guy. “Having a nice time?”

“It’s Arthur, actually,” the man stammered, the lighter pitch of his voice endearing. “And I’m doing okay.”

“Just okay?” You teased, guiding him further into the dark hallway. You nodded at one of the security guards who stood rigidly against the wall. It always gave you great comfort, knowing that there were a handful of bulky men ready to defend you if something were to go sour during a session. All you had to do was call out.

“I’ve never been to a club like this before,” Arthur explained after a long pause, mousy and apologetic as the both of you passed several rooms. A loud groan erupted out of one of them, making him tense up. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”

Stopping in front of one of the empty rooms, you took a moment to briefly look over Arthur. The poor thing looked like a stray dog with its tail between its legs. Giving Arthur a patient, sultry grin, you motioned for him to enter. “That’s perfectly normal, honey.”

Once the pair of you were inside and the door was closed, you watched as Arthur took in the space like a frightened child.

The room was something similar to a motel bedroom: a queen-sized bed, a small couch, a night stand. You had chosen one of the nicer rooms that had a small bathroom connected to it, figuring that Arthur might be more at ease if the space wasn’t too closed-in. Especially with the unnerving way he rubbed at his neck. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was claustrophobic.

Rolling your shoulders back, you approached the nearby table to fiddle with the CD player that had been placed there. No time like the present to kick things off. “Okay, Arthur. Take a seat on the bed and we’ll go over the rules.”

—

Arthur didn’t know how to process any of this. He had just gotten used to the whole table situation, finding that he could calm down and block out the pressure if he hummed a gentle tune under his breath, but now he was alone in a secret room with a stranger and his inner monologue had blurred into static.

He wanted to speak up, tell you that he wasn’t interested in this, that you didn’t have to do... whatever it was that you did. But once you began to rattle off your terms and conditions, Arthur closed his mouth. He didn’t want to be impolite.

“I’ll keep it simple. No choking, no leaving marks, no kissing on the mouth. We provide condoms and you must wear them. If at any moment I feel threatened, or if you break any of these rules, I will not hesitate to call for one of those big guys out there. Your friend prepaid for thirty minutes. If at the end of our session you’d like to buy more time, it’ll be an extra hundred bucks, okay?”

Perched on the edge of the bed, Arthur remained frozen, lips pressed together and fingers bunched up in his sleeves. You had said it all so quickly and he felt like he could pass out from the implications alone. He had heard the word condoms — were the two of you going to make love?

When Arthur finally mustered up the courage to respond, it came out jumbled and uncertain. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offend you, but — I, um — “ He ran a hand through his hair, eyes flitting all over the room, not knowing quite where to land. “I don’t think this is a good idea. You — I mean, you’re really beautiful, but I’ve never…”

He watched you walk over to him slowly, lips parting as you reached out to gently unfurl one of his fists.

“Arthur.” He had a hard time getting over the lovely, feminine lilt in your voice. “It’s okay if this is your first time.”

It happened before he could even attempt to stop it.

A jarring, strangled laugh surged out of him, loud and abrupt, and he felt you jump away from him in alarm, rightfully startled. Not wanting to frighten you, Arthur hid his face in his sleeve and closed his eyes tight, each spasming attack making him lurch forward. It almost felt like vomiting, the way his body contracted, but the source of it lived deep in his chest like a demon.

“What’s going on?” He heard you say after a few moments. You sounded guarded now, cautious.

Terrified that you might call one of the hulking security guards into the room, Arthur lifted his head and tried his hardest to speak through the laughter. “I have a — a condition — that makes me — “ Trying his best to muffle another series of hard laughs, he covered his mouth with both hands and ducked his head, buried deep in shame.

He hated the way he sounded during attacks. It wasn’t anything like his actual laugh.

There was a long beat. With his eyes cast downwards, Arthur couldn’t gauge your reaction, but the last thing he had expected after such a heavy pause was a pair of soft arms wrapping around him.

—

You switched modes before you even realized it. You had never seen anything like this before — this ambush of tormented laughter, but the panic attacks your son struggled with made it easy for you to recognize that this wasn’t intentional.

“Let’s take some deep breaths, honey,” you instructed calmly, rubbing careful circles on his back. Your fingertips wandered over the prominent dips of his shoulder blades and you wondered if this man ever even ate. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. We’ll do it together, okay?”

Arthur stiffened initially at the physical contact but it didn’t take long for him to warm up to the attention, nodding shakily through bursts of laughter. It was admittedly hard to watch — all of the choking and gasping, the pain in his eyes. Pursing your lips, you reached out for his hand and placed it flat against your bare abdomen.

“Here we go. Breathe in.” You took in an exaggerated breath, hoping that he would feel the deliberate rise and fall of your stomach to help him focus. “And out.”

It took him a few tries to properly inhale, his lungs hindering the process as they stuttered, but Arthur eventually found a stable rhythm. Not quite hunched over anymore, he kept his hand pressed against your stomach, the other now all balled up between his knees.

Lost in the transformation in front of you and more than pleased with how he had listened — men never listened anymore — you pushed his hair out of his eyes and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Good job, honey. That was very brave.”

With a bashful smile, Arthur shook his head and shyly retracted his hand from your stomach. “No, not really.”

Something had shifted in him. You narrowed your eyes a little, studying him. There had been a definite change in his demeanor upon your gentle approval. Some of the tension had faded. Running your teeth along your bottom lip, you hesitated a moment before testing it out. You had already gotten paid, there was really nothing to lose here.

“Yes, really.” Leaning closer, you brushed your lips against the shell of his ear and scratched at the middle of his back with manicured nails. “You were a very good boy.”

He whimpered a bit and you smiled. There it was. Priding yourself on your intuition, you let your free hand rest against his thigh and dipped your chin to kiss at the underside of his jaw. He smelled like an ashtray but you didn’t mind it. Anything was better than the terrible cologne most of your customers drenched themselves in. “Do you want to know what I think?”

You took a moment to look up at him and watched as he took a deep breath, seemingly steadying himself. His lashes were wet, the poor thing. When Arthur answered you, it was lost in the back of his throat like a secret. “What?”

“I think that this good little boy…” You tiptoed your fingertips up his chest before toying with the zipper of his sweatshirt. “Deserves to be rewarded."

—

Good little boy.

The phrase should have made him angry. If he was like any other man, he would have scoffed and retreated, asked for a refund — but the genuine approval in your voice filled Arthur with a belonging so poignant that it knocked the wind out of him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been called good. If ever.

Hot all over, Arthur watched you begin to unzip his jacket, his neck still tingling from that feather-light kiss. Although a part of him wanted to carefully take your hand and halt your intentions like a gentleman, he knew that this may be his only shot at being intimate with a woman. And if you were willing, if you didn’t feel disgusted, Arthur figured that he had to at least try.

“You have such pretty hands,” he murmured awkwardly, heat rising up his neck. “Do you play piano?”

You giggled next to him — giggled — and Arthur felt pride swell in his chest. “I used to.”

There was a playful tug to his sleeve and Arthur shrugged out of his jacket obediently, leaving him in his brown slacks and white button-up. His shirt hadn’t been pressed in ages and he frowned, reaching up in attempts to smooth away some of the wrinkles, but you playfully batted away his hands and popped open the top button.

“Why did you stop?” He heard himself ask, not knowing if it was proper etiquette to make small talk.

“Life got in the way, I guess.” Three more buttons undone.

Arthur watched as you moved closer and couldn’t hold back a groan upon feeling warm lips against his pulse point. Eyes fluttering shut, he felt his cock twitch hard in his pants, completely at your mercy. He had never been touched like this before and he was still fully dressed.

With the front of his shirt now open, Arthur shivered a little, his fingers bunching up the fabric of the comforter beneath him. When you nipped at the corner of his jaw, he gasped. “That — That feels nice.”

This earned him a warm chuckle, but then you were gone, the warmth of your body no longer pressed against his side. Worried that he had done something wrong, Arthur’s eyes flew open—

To see you ever so slowly sinking down to your knees.

—

You had to admit that there was something charming about Arthur. He hadn’t groped at you with greedy, dirty fingers, he hadn’t tried to smack your ass or tug your bra off. He was willing and kind, and more handsome than he allowed himself to be. You had to hold back your laughter — your faintest touch drove him wild and you wondered absently just how long he would be able to last.

Kneeling now, you smirked up at him from beneath long lashes and watched him squirm in anticipation. You weren’t ashamed to admit that you were great at giving head. You had recently developed a bit of an oral fixation, soothed by lollipops and toothpicks. But if the bulge in Arthur’s pants signified anything, there was an alluring alternative being offered to you.

“I can make you feel really nice.” You slid your palms up and down along his thighs, rolling back your shoulders again to accentuate your cleavage. “Would you like that, baby?”

Arthur heaved in a breath and nodded eagerly. “Yes ma’am.”

“So polite,” you tutted, fingers now dancing around the buckle of his belt. Once it was undone, you spread his legs and pressed a lingering kiss to the crotch of his slacks. “Such a sweet boy.”

As you expected, Arthur was a complete mess, trembling and speechless as you pulled down his zipper. You had neglected to press play earlier on the CD player across the room, but you didn’t mind it. The little noises coming out of him were…

Pressing your thighs together, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, thrown off by your body’s reaction. You never got aroused at work, but you had to pause after pulling his erection out of his pants, the dull throb between your legs unwarranted and distracting.

You must have been standing still longer than intended because Arthur eventually spoke up, voice tight with worry. “You don’t — You don’t have to, I know that I’m not handsome, I don’t want you to feel pressured —”

With pink cheeks you snapped out of it and kissed the head of his cock, effectively shutting him up. “You’re very handsome,” you assured him, trying your best to keep your confidence through the storm building inside you. You had half a mind to actually stop, not knowing whether it would be wise to continue with a foggy mind, but your mouth had a mind of its own: You flattened your tongue against the base of his length and dragged up, up, up before taking the tip of his cock into your mouth.

Arthur groaned again right away, low and desperate this time, and you found yourself grabbing onto the front of his pants to steady yourself, your other hand holding his cock in place as he trembled next to you.

“That feels so…” Swallowing hard, Arthur reached toward you for a moment before hastily retreating his hand, clearly very shy.

“You can touch me,” you told him in a breath, pressing lazy kisses to the side of his now very hard cock. You closed your eyes, thinking that maybe if you didn’t look at him, you could pretend that this was some other client and not Arthur. Not Arthur and his sweet little whimpers and — his now gentle fingers sweeping your hair behind your ear.

“Is this okay?” Arthur husked quietly, the pad of his thumb tracing along sensitive skin.

You shivered instantly and had to stop yourself from leaning into his palm, instead smiling demurely and nodding. “Very okay.”

With other clients, you had a bit of a routine. Some heavy petting, a little generic dirty talk, followed by a long, drawn-out blow job, hoping that you could take up most of the allotted time on your knees. Nine times out of ten, it would be more than enough for the men who frequented the club. They just wanted to get off, it didn’t matter how.

But with Arthur… you couldn’t stop yourself from taking the whole of him into your mouth, wanting to hear him moan again, wanting to please him.

Obviously not accustomed to this level of pleasure, Arthur yelped a little and sucked in a ragged breath. “I think — I might, I’m sorry I might —”

Knowing that he was looking for permission, you opened your eyes and finally looked up at him again. The sight of Arthur panting, his bare chest flushed, his eyes so dark — you realized that you were now very, very wet. You locked eyes with him and swirled your tongue just so, silently communicating that he could let go.

And he did with a ragged, handsome cry, cumming hard with quivering hips and the slightest tug to your hair.

You knew then and there that you were screwed. You never, ever, ever let any of your clients cum in your mouth.

But Arthur didn’t need to know that.

Swallowing slowly, you didn’t pull back right away. Partially because you didn’t want to, but also because a part of you knew that there was still at least twenty minutes left. You hadn’t been prepared for this. So you remained kneeling, in a daze as you dragged your bottom lip along his now very sensitive cock.

Arthur was out of breath and sounded a little hoarse when he spoke, clearly out of his element and overstimulated. “Thank — Thank you.”

This made you smile despite yourself and you dropped a kiss to his thigh. He was full of surprises. Still trying to pull yourself together, you squeezed affectionately at his knee. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“What about you?”

The question came so soft and you blinked a few times before glancing up at him, not understanding. “Me?”

Arthur’s brows were furrowed as he nodded, regarding you sincerely. “Yeah. I don’t — I don’t want this to be all about me.”

Heat rushed through your body like wildfire and you gaped at him, now completely caught off guard. Was he implying that he wanted to —

“I might not be very good at it, but I’d like to try,” Arthur continued, rubbing at the back of his neck. His eyes then grew wide. “Unless that’s against the rules. Or you don’t want me to. I just figured that I —”

“No, it’s — it’s allowed,” you cut him off, pulse quickening at the idea. You ran a hand through your hair and tried to seem nonchalant, knowing you looked anything but. “You can, if you want to.”

In a clumsy blur Arthur was helping you to your feet and watching as you climbed up onto the bed. You squeezed your thighs together again, realizing now that he’d be able to see just how wet you were. The two of you locked eyes, both a little uncertain, but Arthur surprised you by taking the initiative, shyly reaching over to pull out one of the pillows from underneath the comforter and setting it against the headboard of the bed.

Silently inviting you to lay back.

You blew out a shaky breath and smiled at him, charmed despite suddenly feeling like a teenager on prom night. Not wanting to make him feel unsure of himself, you slid to the middle of the mattress and stretched out onto your back as gracefully as you could manage, your chest heaving now that the tables were turned.

Arthur’s eyes trailed over your body for the first time all night and you found yourself melting beneath his stare. He wasn’t ogling you like the men outside did — he looked like he was appreciating every dip and curve and you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Take my panties off,” you prompted, shame flying out the window. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this turned on and you’d surely combust if he didn’t touch you in some way.

Nodding quickly, Arthur bashfully tucked himself back into his pants and knelt beside you to do as he was told, warm fingers hooking beneath the hem of your thong and dragging the ruined garment down the long expanse of your legs. It got caught momentarily on your heels, making the two of you chuckle a little, but the nervous smile on Arthur’s face faded into pure lust upon gazing at your pussy for the first time.

You had expected him to pause, ask permission again, maybe procrastinate and stall a little — but Arthur was between your legs in a flash, settled on his stomach now, his tongue already lapping eagerly at you.

“Oh m-my god,” you spluttered, both hands flying up to sink into his hair, seeing stars as you tried to register how somebody so inexperienced could instantly figure out how to do that —

Arthur took your reaction incorrectly, however, his head shooting up, green eyes wildly apologetic. “Did I hurt you?”

“No! No, no, no —” You shook your head, your mouth dry now as your hips bucked up. You were planning on saying something reassuring, something coherent, but all that came out was a slutty little whine that made something shift in Arthur.

With a renewed sense of determination, Arthur surged forward once more and went right back into eating your pussy like it was his job, his hands curling around your waist as you all but writhed beneath him.

“Fuck! That’s —” You moaned girlishly, arching your back. His blunt fingernails dug deliciously into your hips as he held you down. You laughed breathlessly, delirious in your pleasure. “Are you sure you haven’t d-done this before?”

Arthur chuckled low against you, a rumbling sensation that sent a shiver rolling up your spine. It was beyond you how the fumbling, timid man from before had the potential to turn into this.

He didn’t let up, learning as he went along, playing close attention to what really made you quiver — and yet somehow, holding back a bit, as if he didn’t want it to end just yet.

Almost on the verge of tears, you lifted your head up from the pillow to catch a glance at what he looked like and noticed that he was absently jutting his hips into the mattress, seemingly turned on all over again.

The words came tumbling out before you could stop them, high-pitched and wanton. “Come up here. Fuck me.”

This was enough to make Arthur pause, lift his chin, lock eyes with you as if making sure he had heard you correctly.

“You did so good, baby,” you told him in a rush, pushing back his hair to really look at him. With your entire body quaking with need, all you could do was whimper out a small, “Please.”

Arthur sprang into action, tugging off his pants — well, stopping a moment to kick off his shoes and then taking off his pants, which made you giggle behind your hand — and climbed back up onto the bed in just his open shirt.

He hesitated above you and you wondered for a moment if he had spotted some sort of flaw, if maybe up close you weren’t as attractive to him as he had thought, but then he nervously murmured, “You said you had condoms?”

Blushing furiously, you broke into a breathless smile and reached over to the bedside table, catching a glimpse of his cock in the process. The sight alone made your pussy throb hard and your hand trembled as it rifled through the top drawer. You felt around, knowing that there was normally at least a dozen condoms kept there. But, nothing.

Cursing under your breath, you sat up a little more and Arthur did the same, the both of you trembling with want and realizing at the same time that the drawer was completely empty.

Rolling back onto the mattress, you caught those green eyes again and worried your bottom lip between your teeth. In any other circumstance, this would have been the end of it, but there had already been so many exceptions tonight, and you were most definitely on birth control —

“Fuck it, just —” You reached out, grabbed ahold of his collar and tugged him forward to break another rule, kissing him hard.

Arthur didn’t respond right away, shocked and well aware of the terms you had set out, but soon kissed you back in earnest, his hands immediately cupping your face with a tenderness that made you sink into the mattress.

Smoothing your hands beneath his shirt, you scratched down along his back and he purred in response, grinding his cock against your inner thigh. Completely out of self-control now, you bit down on his lip and reached down to help guide his length towards your pussy, crying out as it brushed against your clit. He took this as the last bit of permission needed and broke the kiss to look down, and —

“Fuck!”

Arthur didn’t fuck slowly. Once he was inside of you, his pace was rapid right away, hips snapping forward with each unforgiving, bruising thrust.

You buried your face in his neck, bit down at the skin there and sobbed a little, overwhelmed with pleasure. “Arthur, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

This time, Arthur didn’t tiptoe around it. “I’m gonna cum,” he grunted, a throaty kind of whine that made you instantly clench around him.

“You’re — I’m —” You couldn’t fucking speak anymore, because he had tilted his hips up in such a way that made your vision crackle — and then you were cumming, hard, shrieking into his neck.

With your pussy clamped down hard on his cock, Arthur couldn’t have pulled out if he tried. He came inside you with a long, sensual groan that made you wrap your arms around his neck, just wanting to feel him.

The both of you sort of collapsed into each other simultaneously, all heavy breathing and rapid heartbeats and shaky limbs.

“Baby boy,” you eventually breathed out, a sort of sigh of disbelief, your hand returning to his hair.

Clearly exhausted, Arthur pressed a kiss to your temple and you felt his lips turn up into a sleepy smile. “Mm?”

“Your friend can go fuck himself,” you murmured, scratching lazily at his scalp and smiling right back, “Cause you’re coming home with me.”

reader tag: @taintednihilist @galaxycat-1459 @hxneyboy @sebastianshoe @insomniabird@jesstaggartt@lenawiinchester @emissarydecksetter @ghoulsguilty @vampirozi @spaceinvader@aclownthing @zy-nnic @alirabbitt @mapreza1 @the-jokers-wolf @nicimixerxoxo @catch-a-star-wish-from-afar @umetsa @skaravile @live-love-loki @clowneyrat @darknessisafriend @chaosheartjester @shikoshikomanzuri @myfaceisaturnoffsorry @foofee0924 @tearfuljokers

(if you’d like to be added to the reader tag, shoot me a message! sorry if i’m missing anybody, lemme know if i did!)

#arthur fleck x reader #joker x reader #arthur fleck #joker #idk how this turned into 6k+ words but i hope you all enjoy it lmao x #drabble

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nerv0usm3chanic · 3 years

Text

CORRUPTION

Chapters: 1 || 2 || 3 || 4

((NOTE - This is an introduction to a new PERMANENT AU feature exclusive to nerv0usm3chanic. Please see further, generalized information regarding this AU here: X

Be advised that each of these chapters are VERY LONG. The full content will be tucked under a read more after a brief introduction segment.

DO NOT REBLOG.))

Vivi frowned as she spotted Arthur perusing the shelves of Tome Tomb. He wasn’t often in here except when meeting up with Vivi for hanging out later...which, now that she thought about it, hadn’t happened in quite some time. The blue-haired woman made a mental note to invite Arthur and Lewis over for one of their terrible movie nights before heading over to talk to the blond.

“Hey Artie!” The blond jumped at her sudden greeting, his hand over his now racing heart as it registered who it was that spoke to him. “Oh jeeze! I’m sorry for spooking you, Arthur.” She couldn’t help but let a small giggle.

“N-no worries, I’m fine.” Arthur assured her, taking a deep breath, “I um...I was just looking up some things here.” He gestured to the shelf, a series of books on it and many of which hopefully containing his desired topic. Vivi peered over, tilting her head and quirking an eyebrow.

“These are all about ghosts and magic...ooh! Did you hear a rumor about something spooky?” She was getting excited now, “Are you researching for a case, Artie?” Her eyes sparked with her excitement. With a nervous swallow, Arthur nodded slightly, scratching at the back of his head.

“Uh, y-yeah, you caught me.” He coughed, “I heard some rumors of ghosts causing some magical energy fluxes and-”

“Ooh! So exciting! I’ll have to get with you on this later after work!” Vivi clasped her hands around his and practically bounced in place. Just as suddenly, she bounded away to continue her workday and Arthur sighed. Thankfully, he got away without further questions, but he hated the idea of having to explain exactly why he was researching this topic. He’d have to take a rain check if she were to invite him anywhere.

“Is this everything?” The shopkeeper asked in a calm, neutral drawl. Arthur nodded silently, drumming his fingers - both the metallic and flesh and bone - on the counter as Duet collected the first of the three books. A blightly-colored eyebrow quirks and the mysterious person looked at Arthur meaningfully. “Are you sure?”

“U-uhm...I think so?” Arthur quailed, glancing sideways as he saw Vivi pass by with a cart of books to be out away. With worrying amber eyes, Arthur begged Duet to stay quiet about his purchases. They too glanced at Vivi before setting the book down with a soft sigh and giving Arthur a serious look.

“Something is off about you, Kingsmen. And I don’t like it.” They commented in a hushed tone, sure to keep their conversation between Arthur and them alone. Their implication was deeply ominous and Arthur shrank at the connotations. Duet relaxed slightly, easing their dark tone and casually checking out the books Arthur had selected as if nothing had been said. After a moment, Duet looked to the blond again.

“You are...researching...yes?” They offered a much more sensitive tone, prompting Arthur to nod and sigh in some relief. “Perhaps there is someone...I can recommend to you.” And with another subtle gesture, Arthur saw a flash of gold from Duet’s sleeve. He blinked as the shopkeeper slipped the thing in between random pages in one of the larger books.

“Was that a...a card?” Arthur asked as Duet finished ringing up the books. They didn’t answer, just placed the books into a plastic bag and looked to Arthur again.

“That will be $43.23.” Duet’s flat expression indicated they had no interest in continuing. Them making a directed glance over Arthur’s shoulder was enough to say why: Vivi was nearby. Arthur nodded, pulling out his wallet and retrieving the necessary funds.

“Thank you.” Arthur nodded, passing a $50 bill and taking his bag of books. He had no need for the small amount of change, especially if Duet’s lead pointed him in the right direction.

“This is it?” Arthur asked himself later that evening, looking at the gilded card and with the large book in his lap. There wasn’t anything even written on the card, just a golden embossed moon and beneath it, the words ‘qui petit auxilium’. Arthur didn’t know what it meant and he frowned angrily as he flung the card off to the side. He pouted further when the card spun gracefully and made a smooth landing on his nightstand. “How am I supposed to get help with this stupid spirit if I can’t get a straight answer?”

‘I can hear you, boy.’ The spirit snarled in his head.

“I know you can.” Arthur growled back, turning to the book for help and turning pages to look at the index. The blond proceeded to read from a selected section, investigating all he could from what little there actually was on ghosts and their affects on people.

Pages upon pages on skeptical theory, a chapter on the effects of those under possession - or assumed so - and a handful of paragraphs on magical side effects. None of which described lightning or electricity. There was a small section on hearing the voice of the spirit that plagued, though it was played down shortly after with most victims actually being mentally-ill. Arthur grew frustrated. Hearing that voice constantly tease and taunt him, a spirit that made electricity fly from his hands at the most inconvenient times, and the constant strain and worry...

With an exhausted sigh, Arthur shut the book, using the attached ribbon as a bookmark. He set the book on his nightstand and flopped onto his mattress...before looking to the card once again. Metal fingers reached out, taking the slip of thick paper and turning it carefully. The moon glinted bright in the lamplight as it turned and again the words showed bright.

“Qui petit auxilium...I wonder what that means?” Arthur whispered, weariness beginning to weigh on his eyelids. ‘I just...I just wish I could find something...someone to help me.’ With that thought, the blond curled onto his side, ignoring the devious hums of the other voice in his skull.

Despite his doubts, Arthur continued his research, both through the books he purchased and online. He even created a new throwaway Reddit account to search for advice and ideas on how to deal with things. Most if it was hooey and there were a lot of folks going to him to sell their ‘holistic’ home remedies for his ‘condition’. With a sigh, Arthur closed his laptop and rubbed at his tired eyes, bags growing darker each day.

He was the definition of exhausted. By this point it had been more than a year since his possession and he still hadn’t gotten used to the meddling voice in his head or the electrical surges that liked to flow around his metal arm. Arthur scowled at the appendage.

“You were supposed to help me feel normal again.” The mechanic growled at the inanimate arm as it laid peacefully beside his computer.

‘Normal was never an option after you and your friends stepped into my trap.’ The blond ground his teeth a moment before aggressively pushing back from his desk. He needed a walk. Arthur said as much when Lucan asked where he was going.

“Awrigh’ lad...bu’ Ah got dinner cookin’ righ’ now. If ye want it warm an’ fresh, be back in a half hour, okay?” Lucan asked. Arthur gave a tired grunt of ascent and loudly closed the apartment door behind him. The dark-haired Kingsmen looked to his father in concern. Arthur was rarely this moody, even in his teenage rebellious phase and it worried his family.

There was a flash of gold in the bright moonlight as Arhur played with the strange card over and around his fingers. The nights were chill and even walks at 6:30 pm were lit by streetlamps and moonbeams. Arthur liked going for walks at night. Fewer people to run into, to talk to about how poorly and pale he was getting, to look at his arm and feel sorry for him. Amber eyes narrowed at the thought.

He’d seen the pitying looks all three of his friends gave him...and he understood why, but it hurt to see them think anything poorly of him because of his still-new disability. He wanted to be normal again. He wanted to have never gone into that cave. He wanted Vivi and Lewis to have listened to him and his bad feelings. He wanted to...to...he sighed in defeat, looking to the card Duet had given him as he walked past a series of old houses in the nicer neighborhood on the outskirts of Tempo.

Research led to only dead ends...to all but one question he had.

“Qui petit auxilium...help to those who ask for it.” A nice sentiment...but ultimately useless if he didn’t know who to ask for help. His only clue was the golden moon that seemed to glow full under the light of the pale white moon above his head. Funny...they both seemed to match at this phase. Arthur hummed idly as he thought about it and looked up.

“A shooting star...” He murmured, coming to a stop in front of another old pseudo-Victorian-style house, the walls covered in ivy and all of the windows dark with some boarded up and others curtained off. He watched the meteorite sail in a surprisingly long trail across the sky. Before it vanished, he closed his eyes and sighed out softly:

“I wish I could find answers...I need help. Who do I go to?” He opened his eyes to see the meteorite had gone. “...please?” For once...the spirit in his head was silent. Arthur felt its presence, but heard nothing. That in itself was remarkable. On another outlet of breath and a soft nod, Arthur turned his head from the sky and turned to make his way back home...when he heard a loud creaking from his right.

Startled, Arthur whipped his head towards the previously-abandoned house. The door was opened and a bright light poured forth, golden and warm and beckoning. The blond didn’t even notice the soft pulse of magic from the card in his hand as he cautiously made his way through the front gate and approached the front porch. He didn’t even notice that the windows remained dark and empty of all life.

The entity in his mind was suspiciously quiet as he set foot on the creaky wood and carefully approached the door.

“Hello? Hello, is anyone home?” Arthur called out, hopeful to gain the homeowner’s attention as he poked his head inside. “I think your door lock may be...broken...” Words trailed off as Arthur took in the sight before him: a comfortable entryway complete with classically ornate wallpaper and decorations given gold trim to compliment their warm tones. He stepped further inside, fascinated to explore more.

Arthur came across a sitting room with the back of a large wooden chair facing him, a fire dancing merrily in its hearth. He sucked in a cautious breath when he noticed a dark-skinned elbow resting on one of the arms and a draping golden cloth pooling at the front of the chair.

“A-ah um...ex-excuse me for intruding...” Arthur started, pausing to swallow nervously. “I-I um...I actually was walking by and your d-door seemed to creak open on it’s own. I’m...I’m not sure, but I think your lock may be broken. I just wanted to let you know, just so you’re not surprised...by intruders...like me.” Oh, he could have done this so much better. Waiting at the front door and knocking would have been a much nicer way to alert the homeowner of this issue.

“I appreciate your concern, but you needn’t worry. I will be just fine.” There was a flutter of nerves in Arthur at the low, feminine tone. Internally, he was both intrigued and frightened by the energy he could feel exuding from around the woman in the chair. Then suddenly he was more frightened when - in the corner of his periphery - he saw the door lazily creak shut and click securely in place.

“Come around so I may see you.” A soft request that rang as a command through Arthur’s rattled skull as she raised one hand to beckon him forward. He nodded despite the fact that she couldn’t see it and carefully made his way around the armchair before finally seeing the commanding woman who owned this obviously magical home.

She was quite the opposite of who he expected to be living in a decrepit-looking house. Shimmering golden locks were tied back neatly, held back by a pearly comb while the rest spilled gracefully around and over her mostly bare shoulders. Arthur blinked at the shimmery golden dress she wore, something he estimated to be worth five or more months of his earnings at Kingsmen Mechanics and she wore it like a second skin with how confident and relaxed she was in her seat. His eyes briefly assessed her arms - obviously strong with muscle, but still lithe and feminine with their bearer’s grace - before he met her gaze.

Arthur swallowed at the bright glow that emanated from her eyes. A firm gaze that studied him with obvious wary scrutiny and a touch of irritation that carried to the slight downturn of the corner of her dark and light contrasting lips...Arthur averted his eyes to her shoulder as the homeowner assessed the mechanic.

“You asked for help...for a problem you cannot resolve by typical means.” A statement, not a question, but Arthur nodded anyway. There was a beat and then the woman let out a soft breath, so soft that Arthur was sure a mouse couldn’t have been quieter. “You wouldn’t be inside this building if you weren’t in genuine need. Take a seat and tell me what plagues you.” Arthur looked to the matching armchair beside hers as she gestured her other hand towards it.

“Th-thank you...” Arthur says gently, nodding to the woman and taking his seat. Once comfortable, Arthur begins to spin his tale.

That was the night he met Luna, the Witch of Secrets...

Chapters: 1 || 2 || 3 || 4

#corruption au

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pitviperofdoom · 5 years

Text

I have no self control so I made an Ace Attorney AU with dӕmons in it. Have a ficlet!

---

They’ve barely made it back out into the defendant’s lobby when Larry’s dӕmon screams and tries to tackle Phoenix’s.

Luckily, Dawn’s used to this kind of thing, and goats aren’t really built for the kind of tackling that Artemisia was attempting. She manages to get in an awkward, floppy headbutt before Dawn sort of sighs and starts circling around her. It’ll take a second, but if the usual patterns hold true, Dawn will end up sitting on her to get her to calm down. That’s usually what’s worked in the past.

“That was a close one!” Mia says cheerfully, drawing Phoenix’s attention away from the dӕmons’ antics. “I was almost ready to kiss that Not Guilty verdict goodbye.”

Phoenix winces in embarrassment. “Oh, come on…”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, boss,” Dawn says dryly, while Artemisia performs a complicated parkour maneuver off her shoulder. The piteous bleating and clip-clop of goat hooves are almost deafening with the lobby’s acoustics.

From Mia’s shoulder, Archimedes laughs. “She’s joking,” he says, ignoring Mia’s look of betrayal. “She’s joking, don’t worry. We knew you had it handled.”

Phoenix relaxes. “Oh, well, I guess—”

“I mean you had to have Payne handled,” Arc goes on. “If you can’t trounce the Rookie Killer, there’s no hope for you.”

“Thank… you?” Phoenix tries.

“Why is it so hard to tell a compliment from a criticism with them?” Dawn wonders, just loud enough to be heard. Mia covers her mouth elegantly against her laughter, but the pigeon dӕmon on her shoulder has no such reservations. Before Phoenix can think of a follow-up to that, Larry falls upon him in hysterics.

“Nick! Nick, what am I gonna do? My Cindy-windy’s gone, how is life worth living?”

“Larry, she was a—oh, never mind,” Dawn mutters.

It takes a minute, and some digging through the court record, but eventually Dawn sits on Artie until she stops wiggling, and Phoenix assuages Larry’s agony over whether or not his late ex-girlfriend loved him. Dawn lets Artie up off the floor and takes the last-minute headbutt to the chin like a champ, and Larry and his dӕmon finally leave. They’re definitely not getting paid for any of this.

Dawn shakes the rest of the confetti out of her fur and returns to Phoenix’s side, tail wagging like a banner. “Well, that could’ve gone a lot worse.”

“Oh, we’ve had more frustrating clients before, believe me,” Mia says, and something about her pointed smile tells Phoenix exactly which client she’s talking about. Dawn’s tail stops wagging for a moment.

“Hey, don’t knock Larry,” Phoenix retorts. “He’s part of the reason why I became a lawyer in the first place.”

Mia’s eyes widen in surprise. “My, you’ll have to tell us that story sometime,” she says. “Harry Butz, the inspiration for your legal career.”

Phoenix exchanges a glance with his dӕmon. “Well…”

“A small part,” Dawn amends. “About thirty percent of the reason, tops.”

It’s the part that’s the easiest to explain, anyway. Mia has never been shy about her opinion of cutthroat prosecutors, so how is he supposed to tell her—

how wrong it was, seeing pictures of the so-called Demon Prosecutor in news and magazines, tired and angry and weighed down with misery that nobody else seems to notice, with a dӕmon that’s said to show her claws to anyone who moves too close—

“Phoenix?” Mia’s voice brings him back to the present. “Still with us?”

“Yeah, yeah, just… thinking about things,” he says. “You’re right, I’ll have to… tell you about that.”

“Later this evening, maybe,” she says. “Why don’t we get together for dinner? You did just win your first trial, after all. I think that’s a good reason to celebrate.”

Dawn’s drooping tail springs up again and wags, like she can be any more obvious.

“Yeah, sure, sounds good,” Phoenix agrees, praying that his dӕmon won’t start prancing like she’s actually begging for a treat. Mia notices, obviously, and grins in spite of his best efforts to salvage his dignity. Sometimes there are disadvantages to having your soul walk around in the form of a fluffy white dog the size of a miniature horse.

“Phoenix?” she says.

“Yeah, Chief?”

Her amused grin softens to a more genuine smile. “Archimedes meant what he said before.”

“We really did know you could do it,” says Arc.

“To be honest, we’ve known you’d do well since you first told us you were changing your major,” Mia tells him.

Dawn’s tail wags faster. “Okay, now I know you’re fibbing,” Phoenix says. “Twenty-year-old me was an airhead.”

“Was, he says,” Mia’s dӕmon remarks.

“Archimedes,” Mia chides him. “We’re not kidding, Phoenix. It’s all in your dӕmon.”

Phoenix blinks, then exchanges another look with Dawn. “Me?” Dawn asks. “But… I was the same, back then. It’s not like…” Her voice catches. “It’s not like I noticed anything wrong with Dollie and Cassius and—”

“You believed in them,” Arc says gently. “That’s one of the most important parts of being a good defense attorney: trusting your instincts and believing in your client’s innocence.” He cocks his head to one side. “But that’s not what we’re talking about. It’s the very shape you’re in, Dawn.”

“A… dog?” Phoenix frowns. “Man, that’s not what the kids in middle school said.”

“Meh-meh-meh, Phoenix has a dog dӕmon, he’s gonna be a bellboy when he grows up,” Dawn mutters mockingly.

“Seriously, Rudy Bruzer used to throw his backpack at me and tell me to carry it for him. That thing was heavy.” Phoenix stops before he gets too deep in the teen angst of years past. “Anyway, everybody says dog dӕmons are the submissive, authority-following type, so I don’t really see your point.”

“Well, you didn’t look very submissive at the defense bench just now,” Mia points out. “And besides, I’m not talking about her being a dog. I’m talking about the kind of dog she is.” She raises an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me you never looked it up.”

“We never really thought about it,” Dawn admits. “I guess I kind of look like a Pyrenees?”

“Precisely.” Arc flutters down from Mia’s shoulder and lands on Dawn’s back. “A Great Pyrenees. That’s a breed from the Pyrenees Mountains between France and Spain. A guardian breed, to be exact.”

Dawn twists her head around to look at him. “So now I’m a guard dog? What does that have to do with being a lawyer?”

“Not a guard dog,” Mia says, keeping her eyes on Phoenix. “A guardian. They were bred to watch over herds and flocks in the mountains.” She tilts her head with a smile. “You have the soul of a protector, Phoenix.”

“Gentle with the lambs and fierce against the wolves,” Archimedes adds. “I can’t think of a better dӕmon for someone who defends the innocent.”

“Oh,” Phoenix says faintly. Mia’s nice enough to pretend not to notice how choked up he is. After all the dumb-dog-go-fetch comments he’s heard in every school he’s ever attended, this is the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about Dawn’s shape.

***

Hours later, he kneels on the floor of Mia’s office, choking back tears as he searches her corpse for clues. Archimedes is gone, dissolved into Dust the moment Mia’s heart stopped beating. Dawn noses her cold hand; it’s safe for his dӕmon to touch her now that she’s dead.

You were wrong, Chief, he thinks, staring blankly at the bloody name scrawled on the back of a department store receipt. I couldn’t even protect you.

#ace attorney #fanfiction #aa daemons #tales from the #phoenix wright #mia fey

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apparitionism · 5 years

Text

Hark

A merry early Gift Exchange to @kla1991, whose not-so-secret Santa I am this year. This is the first part of a story set somewhat in-universe: there’s no season 5 (what could that even be?), and only the first ep of season 4—basically, time wound back to right before the Warehouse exploded in Stand, which aired on Oct. 3, so the Christmas during which this story is set is happening less than three months after that momentous occurrence. I’m postulating that Helena became an agent again, and there was no Artie/Father Data business. (Oh, and Steve didn’t die, so no metronome. I refuse to force Helena through witnessing anyone being brought back non-nefariously from the dead.) I’ll do my best to post the concluding part(s) by New Year’s Day—no promises on that, but I’ll finish as soon as apparitionally possible. Anyway, happy holidays to everyone. Continuing to participate with you all in this wondrous exercise in fandom is a blessing in every tradition, and I’m profoundly grateful.

Hark

“Your upstart nation stole ‘God Save the Queen’!” Helena seethed at Myka.

For whom “upstart nation” was really too much. “Nobody owns that melody!” she fumed, reciprocally, at Helena. “You can’t steal something nobody owns, our version is perfectly valid, and anyway I’m pretty sure other countries stole it too. Look it up!”

“I’m not in other countries. You look it up.”

“I’m driving! Since when are you such a fan of the monarchy anyway?”

“Stop questioning my patriotism!”

“I couldn’t care less about your patriotism!”

“You brought up citizenship!”

“Because you don’t have any!” Myka had genuinely thought they would be having an intellectual conversation, one about documentation and—

“I did at birth!” Helena raged, and then she scowl-sang, “God save our gra-cious Queen.”

This gave Myka pause. She reflected that she had actually never heard Helena sing before. She then concluded that she never wanted to hear Helena sing again... because Helena could not sing.

However: “My country ’tis of thee,” Myka sang back, frustrated. It was the only reason she herself would ever have sung, because—

“You can’t sing,” Helena informed her, in the tone of a doctor trying to conceal joy at having to report that the patient would not recover.

“Neither can you,” Myka informed back, aiming for straightforward “snide.”

“And I never want to hear you sing again,” Helena continued.

All Myka could come up with in response to that was an inadequate “Ditto.”

Helena sniffed. “You just wanted the last word.”

Myka pointedly let Helena have that last word. To make her stew in it. In the ensuing silence, she continued to drive. On this last leg home from a retrieval, late on Christmas Eve—their very first Christmas Eve—the air between them was frostier than the South Dakota winter outside the car could ever dream of matching.

She was under no illusion that Helena cared at all about anybody saving the Queen, and she herself, while reasonably patriotic on the American side of things, hadn’t sung her way through that song since her childhood. She knew this dispute was ridiculous, and she suspected Helena knew it too. She suspected also that they both understood they were developing a pattern: A period of calm—a deepening of accord—that would sooner or later, particularly in the adrenalin-ebb aftermath of a dangerous retrieval, dissipate into some minimally motivated squabble, the respective sides of which they entrenched themselves into with such commitment that it seemed there could never be an unentrenching.

An early instance: Myka had threatened to storm out of their shared hotel room because Helena had mulishly refused to concede that it had been foolish to open a bottle of mini-bar water for which they would be charged five dollars.

“Go right ahead,” Helena had “suggested,” so Myka did.

In the lobby, she’d run into Pete, who wasn’t storming anywhere, just looking for free snacks. “See?” Myka demanded of him. “Like a normal person.”

“If you were normal, you wouldn’t be out here with me. ’Cause you’ve got a hot girl in a hotel room, and I know things got a little uh-oh chasing that guy today, but you’re both still in one piece.”

“Maybe not for long.”

“You volunteered for this.”

“No I didn’t. Artie said ‘Pete, Myka, Helena, get on a plane for Montgomery, Alabama,’ and so we—”

“You know that isn’t the ‘this’ I meant.”

Myka did. But she hadn’t volunteered for that “this” either. Nothing about her response to Helena was voluntary. Nothing about it had ever been voluntary.

“Fights and all,” Pete added. “After the thing”—he always called the barely averted explosion of the Warehouse “the thing,” and so did Claudia—“you could’ve let her leave. You could’ve made her leave. She would have done anything you said.”

“Not anything,” Myka said, to be contrary.

“Maybe you don’t remember how she’d hardly even sit in a chair without your say-so. Oh, but wait, I think I know somebody who remembers everything, some tall lady with a lot of hair, name rhymes with Opelika... hey, that’s you!”

“Shut up. It wasn’t... that simple.”

“It is now.”

She crossed her arms at him.

He sighed. “Lemme show you: ‘Sorry, baby,’” he said in his “Myka” voice, which was terrible. “Me too, darling,” he then said in his “Helena” voice, which was even worse. As himself, he finished, “It’s like you’ve never been in a relationship.”

In a conversation in which Pete had said several annoyingly true things, that one was the most annoyingly true. But: “It’s like,” she conceded, and he slapped the side of her head, very gently.

“Hot girl hotel room,” he said.

When Myka went back to that hotel room, the hot girl said, “I’m sorry,” as if she’d received the same instructions from Pete. “I was precipitately thirsty.”

“I’m sorry too,” Myka told her. “I was precipitately miserly.”

Myka kissed the hot girl, the hot girl kissed back, and they fumbled their way to fine.

Until the next trivial-yet-entrenched tiff... because apparently, peace was for normal people.

Normal people. When Myka and Helena finally made it back to the B&B, Leena, Claudia, and Steve were doing reasonably convincing “normal” impressions: drinking hot chocolate, eating cookies, and playing board games. They seemed to be playing all the board games; Leena was replacing the lid on Monopoly, which she set aside, reaching for the next box in a towering stack. “Chef’s-kiss timing,” Claudia told them. “I just bankrupted these two pathetic poser slumlords, and we’re about to start Sorry. It’s funner with four, so siddown, and you two can be a team.”

“Or not,” Myka said, glancing at Helena, who glanced back and gave a definitely not yet inhale-exhale. “Why isn’t Pete playing?”

“We’re supposed to tell you it’s because he’s doing some last-minute Christmas shopping,” Steve said.

Myka was about to ask, “This late at night?” but Claudia supplied, “Except it’s really that he goofed off today and didn’t finish inventory and thought he’d get away with it but then Artie called and yelled at him.”

“And you left him alone to keep working on it? It’s the night before Christmas, and—”

Claudia waved her hands. “And all through the Warehouse, not a creature was stirring, I swear.”

“Besides,” Leena added, “he’s a grown man.”

“Who always ruins Christmas!” said Myka.

“Always almost ruins Christmas,” Claudia corrected.

Myka demanded, “Is there anything about me that says ‘I like a close call’?”

All eyes turned to Helena, then back to Myka.

Of course Helena had been part of the closest of calls, and Myka hadn’t liked it at all: nothing but the outcome. The Warehouse, the saving of it, yes, the thing—but the real outcome had been the aftermath at the B&B.

That outcome was real, but it was also a dream, one that Myka had dreamed more often than she would ever have confessed to pondering in her heart, this dream of being alone with a present Helena, no disastrous endpoint looming. The dream-logic of it: I can touch her? And Myka put a hand to Helena’s elbow. Reached and did that. Helena looked at the hand, the elbow. She looked in Myka’s eyes then and said, “Don’t spare my feelings.”

Feelings? Are you really you in your skin, Myka wanted to ask. Is this your elbow. Instead, because she needed to know, she murmured, “What do you want.”

Helena didn’t say words, but she made a noise that evolution had found fit to preserve from a deep, animal past, a guttural push of sound through the throat-column: it told Myka everything. Told Myka: “Everything.”

No speaking then but by bodies, a language of desperation and culmination. Helena had a mouth that could be met by Myka’s own, clothes that could be removed to reveal a palpable body, with every response of that body real under Myka’s hands. Myka held her eyes closed for much of that night, lest sight confuse her about presence and its proof, lest she fail to attend to what her eyes could never offer: The fleshy heaviness of a tongue in response to her own. The soft give of a thigh interior under her insistent thumb. The steady pressure of a body that pushed back. No empty air, no absence; only presence.

No question marks intruded on their immediate intimacy, their immeasurable, embodied relief. Two days prior, Helena had been a sacrificeable hologram, but all at once she was Myka’s living, breathing, at-last lover. All destined... like meeting at gunpoint.

That night precipitated a fast fall into full couplehood, with seemingly little conscious choice on either of their parts. As inevitable as the gunpoint meetings, the wrenching betrayals, even the miraculous redemption.

But nothing good can possibly be so simple, Myka told herself. Or so inevitable.

“Is that what you believe?” Myka imagined Helena asking this, Socratically. She’d had so many internal conversations with Helena that she found the habit—probably a bad one—difficult to break.

“I’m tired of belief,” Myka told her beautiful, imaginary Socrates. “Sometimes I want to go back to my regular non-Warehouse life, where belief didn’t matter.”

Helena said, still in Myka’s head, still Socratic, “Or did you merely act as if it didn’t matter? Artifacts were born. Religions carried on as they do. Your ignoring belief had no effect on any of it.”

“My not ignoring it has no effect on any of it.”

“So you yourself, regardless of attitude adopted, cannot affect belief.” Socrates paused. Smiled. “Or that which is inevitable.”

Myka did, in such moments, briefly wonder why she needed the real Helena around, if the one in her head was such a reasonable facsimile. A hologram could have done that job just as well.

But the answers, the “here’s why,” came fast and thick, and Myka rejoiced that they could. The real Helena could make Myka laugh an easy laugh, because circumstances were not as they had been with that hologram, when laughter was an impossibility. The real Helena could touch Myka’s neck—not wonderingly, as Myka had known that elbow—but instead quick and hot, in that way that said “we have been intimate recently and will soon again be.” The real Helena could fall asleep and in relaxation display a face so devastating in its symmetry that Myka was inclined to regret not being Michelangelo, so as to recreate it in appropriately tributary marble.

Strange, though, or probably just ridiculous, to feel that your romantic relationship had made more sense when one of you was a hologram.

Myka should have expected Christmas, also a fraught inevitability, to loom as an existential test—yet another existential test—of that relationship.

She should have expected also that when this new existential test was administered, Pete would be the one helping to shove answer sheets and no. 2 pencils into their hands.

“Might be a close call or two in Sorry. Sorry!” Claudia cackled. “Anyway, go put your stuff away so we can get our Sorry on. Also our merry. We might even sing.”

“Or not,” Myka said again, and this time she got an eyeroll in response rather than meaningful breathing. An improvement? Hard to tell.

“Nobody’s required to sing anyth—” Leena began, but then she sat up very straight and cocked her head. “Do you hear that sound? Or I guess I mean, do you feel that sound? It’s not singing.”

Helena moved her head too, and not in a way Myka recognized. “I do feel that sound. In fact I believe I know that sound.”

“I do too,” Leena said.

Steve squinted. “Feels like... a weird earthquake? Is it happening all over Univille?”

Claudia said, “This is the kind of thing they blame on us even when it isn’t us. It’s why they look at us weird at the supermarket.”

“I can’t feel anything,” Myka said. “What is it?” She looked first to Helena, who was shaking her head—not at Myka, not with anger, but as if she might be able to find the right shake to rid her ears of the sound, or the feeling, or whatever it was.

“Agitated artifacts,” Leena said, performing a very similar shake. “They... rumble.”

“Agitated artifacts,” Myka repeated. “Pete’s alone at the Warehouse, it’s Christmas, and artifacts are agitated. Okay.”

Naturally, Pete chose that moment to march in, proclaiming, “I hope everybody’s ready to apologize to me.”

Steve asked, “Why should we apologize?” Now he was shaking his head too.

“Because everybody always says I ruin Christmas.”

Helena said, “As I understand the situation, the salient fact is not that they say you ruin Christmas. The salient fact is that you do ruin Christmas.”

“Almost,” Claudia corrected again. She canted her head, righted it. Canted it again.

“But this time I saved it.”

“By agitating artifacts?” Myka said, but of course he would think that. Probably encouraged them to have a party...

“More so by the minute, from the sound of things,” Leena told him.

“What? No! That isn’t what I did!”

“The artifacts are telling a different story,” Helena noted.

Claudia offered, “It’s more that they’re humming it real low. Like some geologic event that worked its way into a Björk track. Or vice versa.”

Myka—very calmly, she believed, under the circumstances—said, “What. Did. You. Touch.”

“Nothing, Mom,” he said, and his tone caused Myka to spare some sympathy for Jane Lattimer. He then said, as if it were some magnanimous confession, “Okay. Fine. I did, but I gloved up.”

“What did you touch after you gloved up?” Leena asked. “And why?”

“It was like it tapped me on the shoulder...” he began.

Still canting her head, Claudia muttered, “Sallah flashback, Sallah flashback...”

“And said ‘hey big guy’...”

Steve said, “This is already a longer story than I feel like it should be.”

“And told me it had to go the Christmas aisle...”

Myka had had enough. “If you don’t spit it out right now, I personally will Heimlich it out of you. Joyfully. WHAT had to go to the Christmas aisle?”

He turned to her and gave a palms-up shrug. “You know I don’t know anything about classical music.”

She reached to the table for the nearest board game, to throw it at him, but Helena preempted that move by saying, “Judging from Myka’s face, now is not the time for non sequiturs.”

She probably couldn’t have done much damage with a travel-size Aggravation anyway, but travel and aggravation made her think, in Helena’s direction, Oh, now you can read my face. An hour ago in the car, not so much. Then she sighed internally. Or maybe, an hour ago in the car, too well.

Pete was continuing, “But the Messiah had strong feelings.”

“Oh no,” Leena said, and Myka knew that Leena saying “oh no” in that particular way meant she knew something, and the something she knew wasn’t good, but Pete kept on, still enthusiastically proud of himself: “So I gloved up, took it where it wanted to be, and then came home. Because it isn’t Christmas till I’ve won the Trivial Pursuit Star Wars Classic Trilogy Collectors’ Edition!”

“Do I seriously have to remind you I’m the reigning champ?” Claudia demanded. “What you’re saying is, it’s never gonna be Christmas.”

“Not for a while yet,” Leena said, “because we’re going back to the Warehouse. Because I’m pretty sure I know what’s happening.”

“Why do I have to go if I can’t hear whatever it is?” Pete whined.

Myka told him, “I can’t hear it either, and it’s your fault.”

“Your ears are your own problem.”

“I might Heimlich you just for the fun of it.”

Steve said, with concern, “I’ve heard that ribs tend to break.”

Myka nodded. “Exactly.”

“Santa would not approve of that attitude, young lady,” Pete chided.

“All I do is lug around stockings full of coal,” she said. “Do your worst, Santa.”

She made the mistake of glancing at Helena, whose face betrayed a responsive ripple of disquiet. Exactly the wrong sentiment for ending a fight, even a foolish one, Myka realized: imply that nothing you carry with you is what you want. “I didn’t mean...” she began, but Claudia was demanding of Leena, “How do you know what’s happening? And what is happening?”

“He put the Messiah sheet music in the Christmas aisle,” Leena said, with what Myka considered enviable patience.

“You say that like it means something!”

“It does mean something,” Leena said. “You’ll see. More importantly, you’ll hear.”

At the Warehouse, when they reached the floor, they were greeted by... “Curtains?” Steve tried, because that was what they were. Tall, cream-colored damask curtains with a green floral pattern. Freestanding, blocking their path. Insistently blocking their path.

“For all of us!” Pete tried back. “Dun-dun-DUN!”

“No...” Leena said. She regarded the curtains. “I know who you are,” she said, and Myka found herself unsurprised to see the curtains rustle at that, as if in appreciation. Leena then said, “And now I know exactly what’s happening.”

“A play is beginning?” Helena suggested.

“Not quite, but you’re in the neighborhood. Surely somebody other than me knows who these curtains are really for.”

Pete leaned close to the curtains, then jumped back like they’d bit him. “Oh my god. Now that I look close—the von Trapp kids!”

“Good boy,” Leena said.

“I thought we were calling him a grown man,” groused Myka.

“Leena is providing positive reinforcement,” Helena said. Pedantic, as if Myka had never heard of such a thing.

“I know she’s providing—” But she shut herself up, sighed in frustration instead.

Leena made sure everyone was wearing gloves, then said, “Claudia, keep your goo gun in your pocket; we might find more of them taking their frustrations for a walk.”

“So do we just put things back where they belong?” Steve asked. “And they calm down and the rumble-chatter stops?”

“Any that got themselves where they aren’t supposed to be, we take them back. But here’s what else we have to do.” She paused. “Sing.”

“No,” Myka said, and “no,” she repeated. She chanced a glance at Helena, but she had closed her eyes and seemed to be pre-massaging a headache out of her temples.

Leena appeared not to have heard Myka, for she went on, “We’ll deal with the curtains first. Next, the Messiah goes back where it’s supposed to be—because that’s what started it all. After that, I think Claudia should tell us what we need to do.”

“Oh god,” Claudia said, sounding just about as dread-filled as Myka felt. “This is Caretaker practice, isn’t it?”

“What if it is?” Leena asked.

“Ugh. Thanks, Pete.”

He said, “Maybe it tapped my shoulder because it thought you needed Caretaker practice.”

Myka snorted. “Maybe it tapped your shoulder because it could tell you’re an easy mark.”

“Hey!” he protested.

“Particularly at Christmas.”

“Hey!”

Leena said, “I think the Messiah might have sensed you’d be an easy mark... mostly because you want to make everybody happy. Particularly at Christmas.”

“See? Leena understands,” he taunted Myka.

Myka once again considered the Heimlich.

They escorted the curtains back to the musicals section, passing by Ginger Rogers’s dancing shoes, and Myka was unnervingly tempted to put them on and bleed her way backwards and in high heels out of the entire situation as Leena explained, “People repurpose ‘My Favorite Things’ as a Christmas song. The curtains find that... troubling.”

Pete scratched his head. “I guess I don’t really get that. Isn’t it kinda great?”

“Wait,” Claudia said, “and this might not even be practice: I think I do get it. How they feel. So let’s say you’re you.”

“I’m me,” he said. “Gotcha. Awesome. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Exactly. But what if some holiday thingy came along and made like it was changing you into something else? They’re afraid we’ll put ’em in the Christmas aisle, and they don’t want to be there. Unlike the Messiah, I guess. Am I wrong, Leena?”

“You’re not wrong,” Leena told her, smiling.

“I feel that too,” Steve agreed. “They’re... afraid? Afraid it’ll diminish them. They’ll be about Christmas and that’s all. That’s why they’re so agitated.”

And so the curtains were serenaded with words about raindrops, kittens, kettles, mittens, and all the rest.

“Are they happier now?” Pete asked. “Do they not feel so bad?”

Leena, Claudia, Steve, and Helena all nodded, if not entirely vigorously. Helena said, “Marginally happier. Not knowing the song, I of course couldn’t participate. I hope they aren’t offended.”

But she hadn’t seemed apologetic at all while the singing took place. In fact she’d smirked. So Myka murmured, “Thrilled, more likely.”

Helena pretended to ignore her but also bared her teeth, minimally, in Myka’s direction, as she said, “Popular culture, alas, remains a largely undiscovered country.”

“It’s just one song,” Claudia said. “You’re getting your head around more stuff all the time! Take the Muppets.”

“Last week’s Christmas special,” Helena said, and Claudia nodded. Myka knew they’d been going one per week, because that was as much as Helena could take, whereas Claudia would have set up a holly-jolly IV drip if she could. Helena continued, “The one you called a ‘crash course’ in several shows’ worth of puppets?”

Claudia nodded again, even more enthusiastically. “Muppet Family Christmas! And now you’re up to speed, so for example when I say ‘Oscar,’ you say...”

“I still fail to understand how the large bird, which seems more accurately a costume than a puppet, qualifies.”

“The answer we were looking for was ‘the Grouch,’ so maybe we’re not quite as far along as I thought. I’m not going to bother with when I say ‘Fraggle,’ you say.”

“Consumer of the structures built by the devoted little workers who wear hats.”

“Aaaand that’s why not. Although your essay answer isn’t wrong.”

“Thank you,” Helena said, performing her funny little bow that struck Myka anew, each time she saw it, as a Victorian tell.

In fact, Myka had come home from the Warehouse just as that “crash course” was ending: Helena, as always after such a lesson, looked bemused but relieved, while Claudia was fidgeting with post-lecture satisfaction and, most likely, disappointment that she’d have to wait an entire week till the next one. Myka had asked, “Why does Helena need to know about the Muppets?”

Claudia responded with a puzzled, “Why doesn’t she?”

“Bert, Ernie, and the distinctions therebetween,” Helena said to Myka. “Would that I were you and could retain it all.” She smiled a small “but here we are” smile, and Myka leaned over the back of the sofa and kissed that smile. Because she wanted to; because she could. The smile then widened, and Myka tried not to make the mistake of wondering why every moment wasn’t like this one.

“You two can be pretty soft when you want to be,” Claudia remarked.

Myka had thought, No, we’re not this way when we want to be. It was when they weren’t actively wanting it—or needing it—that this ease stole upon them. But here it was... so Myka kissed Helena again, then asked, “What’s for dinner?”

The asking of that question, in the softness of that moment, had seemed an ideal step forward, one not about destiny or fraught inevitability, but balance and consistency. And then Myka did make the mistake: Why couldn’t every moment be like that? What was it that disturbed all the other moments?

Now, as they all headed for the Christmas aisle, Pete pulled on Myka’s arm and held her back a bit from the rest. “You mouthed the words,” he accused, very quietly.

“So what if I did? You know I can’t sing.”

“Maybe it makes a difference. H.G. said the drapes were only marginally better.”

“She didn’t sing either, by the way,” Myka pointed out.

Apparently her feelings about that were clear, for Pete said, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“I meant you and H.G. Incidentally, you walk a little bit like Big Bird.”

“We’re fine. Incidentally, if you got a chicken bone stuck in your throat I wouldn’t be at all upset about what could happen while I was saving your stupid life.”

“I sort of feel like if she choked on a chicken bone, right now, you wouldn’t want to let anybody else do the rib-breaking.”

Myka almost said a dark “you bet I wouldn’t,” but then she realized: “I think that’s always going to be true.”

Pete nodded. “Kiss her, kill her. I get it.”

Unless he was talking about vibes, he didn’t get it, not fully—Myka herself didn’t get it fully, and in everybody’s defense there was a lot to be got—but it was Christmas-sweet that he got as much as he did. She said a mollified, “Look, just don’t make me sing, okay?” Because if there was anything Myka was sure she and Helena definitely did not need right now, it was a replay of “you can’t sing” and “neither can you.”

“No promises, partner. When Leena says ‘jump’ I say ‘my knees are shot.’ You, on the other hand, when she says ‘sing’? Better say ‘how high.’”

“This is kind of a ‘my knees are shot’ situation,” Myka observed.

“What’s the matter with your knees?”

“Never mind.”

And then they reached the Christmas aisle. About which Myka felt, and felt she had a right to feel, a certain amount of post-traumatic stress.

“If you touch anything,” she told Pete, “I will turn your ribs into chicken bones.”

“That makes no sense.”

“And yet you understand me perfectly.”

He took a step away from her. “In a very mobbed-up way, yes I do.”

Helena, Claudia, Leena, and Steve had ringed themselves around a shelf, and Myka peeked over Helena’s shoulder. Only in the Warehouse, she figured, could a piece of music manage to project the idea that it was pleased with itself.

“It’s gloating at me,” Pete complained.

“It did make you do what it wanted,” Steve pointed out.

Claudia said, “It’s like it knew we’d show up right at this moment.”

“I’m pretty sure it did,” Leena said.

Myka, still at Helena’s shoulder, felt a tension in the body that was not quite touching hers. She felt a tension, too, in words that were not quite meant for her to hear as Helena murmured at the music, “What else do you know...”

TBC

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #B&W Holiday Gift Exchange #kla1991 #Hark #second part coming sooner rather than later #(I hope so anyway)

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alittledizzy · 4 years

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new horizons kurt/blaine but also ft santana, mercedes, tina, artie, and rachel

Various conversations about the planning of Britt’s Animal Crossing isolation birthday party. Written for @likearumchocolatesouffle!

[read on ao3]

“I don't understand," Kurt says, looking at the email invitation he's got pulled up in front of him. "What even is it?"

Santana snorts. "Ask your boy Blainers. I mean, he modeled his high school wardrobe after Blathers, didn't he? The names even sound the same"

"After <i>who</i>?" Kurt's confusion just grows. "Speak English, please."

"Fatherhood is really making you dull, Kurt." Santana sighs. "Animal Crossing. Video game. Party at Britt's Island. Saturday. Be there."

"But what does that-"

Santana hangs up.

"It's just a video game, Kurt." Blaine rubs the baby's back. She lets out a sleepy half cry. "It's for the Switch. Remember, the thing you bought me for Christmas last year?"

"Oh, right. One of our 'things to do while obsessively watching the baby sleep' presents." Kurt frowns. "But why is Britt having a party? What does that even mean?"

Blaine shrugs very, very gently. "Means she wants to celebrate her birthday with her friends, but the state of proverbial lockdown isolation we all finds yourself in right now leaves her options limited. I think it's sweet that Santana's helping her do this, actually."

Kurt looks down at the stack of Burberry burp cloths he's just finished folding. "Why can't she just have a Zoom party like a normal person? Do I have to buy a video game system for this?"

Blaine shrugs again. "I mean, you can just use mine, but you'd probably enjoy having your own more."

"Blaine, have I ever been a video game person?"

"I mean..." Blaine smirks like he's pulling out a secret weapon. "You <i>can</i> make your own clothes for it, you know. There's a whole clothing shop available and a design customizer..."

"... fine, alright, I'm buying one."

"It's hilarious, Tina." Blaine laughs, slightly out of breath from his treadmill run. He's going slower now, already anticipating the post-workout shower he's going to have. "He's had it like four days and he's already mastered the art of time traveling so he can get the Able Sisters shop in time for Britt's birthday party. He says he can't possibly show up in something off the rack."

"I would say I don't believe it, but honestly, I believe it," Tina says. "He asked if he could come to my island three times yesterday."

"He's also turnip obsessed. Not just in the game. He added turnips to our farm to table produce box order. What on earth am I supposed to make with turnips?"

"I think they're good in stir fry?" Tina suggests. "I actually got the cutest little cat mask I'm going to wear. You know her island is Lord Tubbington themed, right?"

"Yeah, I was thinking of getting her a cat tower. Does she already have one?"

"She has seven, but she's putting them everywhere so I know she'll like one more. I have a litter box for her!" Tina laughs. "I love that a litter box counts as a good present."

"It's so weird," Blaine agrees. "Kurt wants to give her a lucky gold cat. He thinks my cat tower idea is tacky."

"Kurt things everything is tacky," Tina says. "Let him live his best live."

Blaine smiles fondly, slowing his cooldown until the treadmill comes to a stop. "Couldn't stop him if I tried."

"Tee! It's Artie! I guess you're busy doing something that involves you not being able to answer your dang phone, which for the record is sarcasm because none of us are doing literally anything right now. But whatever, I see how it is, girl. Screening me. I see how it is. Anyway I just wanted to let you know I got the gift you sent me in the game. Now I can wheel up to Britt's bee-day bash in style. It's actually cool that this game even has wheelchairs. Anyway, later!"

"'cedes, my beautiful queen, how are you doing?" Artie asks.

"Uh, wondering what kind of crack all my high school friends are smoking that they're all suddenly on my ass to play some kind of video game."

"Look, I'll be real with you, I thought the same thing," Artie said. "And then I remembered that escapism is a tool of our generation and also the world outside is a flaming pile of poop right now so what do you have to lose?"

"Damn." Mercedes sighs. "You make some points."

"Kurt designed me the cutest dress," Rachel says. "Seriously? It's like, the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen. It's definitely what I would have worn to the Tony's if they hadn't been canceled."

"Yeah," Mercedes says, sounding distracted. "You know I just needed your Switch code, right? You could have just responded to the text."

"But that's no fun!" Rachel says, dismissal in her voice. "Besides, we need a good old fashioned diva catch up, don't we?"

"Not really."

"Don't be so grumpy!"

"I'm not- look, Rachel, I appreciate this, but I've got to get back to recording."

"I still can't believe you have your own home studio." Rachel sighs heavily.

"Yeah, well... believe it! See you at Britt's, bye!" Mercedes hangs up quickly.

Rachel sighs.

Jesse's having his mandatory hour of meditation, but she's never been able to get the hang of that.

She picks up her Switch and does a little lap around her island, responding with glee to a few of the residents she sees, the puts it back down.

She misses people. She misses people so, so much. Not any specific person. Just... people.

She reaches for her phone and calls a number already high up on her contacts. "Kurt!" She barely gives him time to respond before she says, "So, do you think we can find a matching handbag in time for the party..."

#glee #glee fic

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bisexualbumblebee-writes · 3 years

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Alive and Well Part 2- Jasper Badun x OC

Jasper Badun x Angela Young

Description: Cruella enlists Artie and Angela’s help to put the Baroness away from good, but once it’s all over, Angela and Jasper are left with only their feelings for each other and no way of knowing how to go about it.

Word Count: 2.8k

Work had been almost nonstop since the plan was set in motion, but Angela didn’t mind. She loved the adrenaline that ran through John’s house at all times. Everyone was excited to be on board and they wanted to make it perfect just as much as Cruella did. That’s why Angela was confused when Jasper came into her room while everyone was on a lunch break.

“Hey Jas, what’re you doing here? I thought you’d be eating with Horace and Artie,” she greeted the man, trying not to show her confusion. He shot her an almost cutely awkward smile and took a seat beside her.

“Well, I wanted to keep you company, and check on your dress for tonight,” he responded before looking it over. “It looks amazing.” Angela blushed.

“Thanks, I can’t wait for you to see the finished product.”

“I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in it,” he said softly, staring at her with a look she couldn’t quite explain. Her blush deepened, but she couldn’t find words to respond with the way he was looking at her. She noticed his eyes flicker down for a moment before looking into her eyes.

“Angela, I-” he never got to finish his thought before he was interrupted.

“Hey guys, Cruella says it’s time to get back to- oh,” Artie stopped mid sentence when he stepped in the doorway. “Uh, sorry to interrupt. I’ll just uh… be out here when you’re done.”

“Uh no, it’s okay,” Jasper said quickly, standing and dusting himself off. “I should probably go help Horace fix up that car.” With that, he left without looking at the girl. Angela only watched helplessly, dying to know what he was going to say. Unfortunately, she didn’t get the chance as she had to help a few others with last minute details then had to get ready herself.

She didn’t even see him again until they arrived at Hellman Hall for the charity event. She arrived with Artie, showing their “invitation” to John, who let them in with a knowing smile. They gave him their coats then headed to the ballroom filled with black and white wigs in memory of Cruella. The duo split up to make sure that everything went according to plan, then John instructed her to get an earpiece from Jasper. It didn’t take her long to find him.

“Excuse me sir, could you direct me to the champagne?” She questioned innocently upon reaching him. His back had been turned when she walked up, but he turned after hearing her voice with a bright smile.

“Yes ma’am I-” he paused when he noticed her outfit. She looked, in the simplest terms possible, absolutely stunning. Her dress made her look like a literal goddess and her hair all done up framing her face added to the look.

“Yes ma’am, I?” She prompted him with a teasing smile. He seemed to come back to his senses, only for his eyes to widen.

“Oh no miss, you’ve dropped your earring,” he informed her urgently. That made her look around and crouch down. He followed suit and pretended to look down, only to hold something out for her a second later. Upon looking at it, she realized that he was holding an earpiece.

“Oh, you sly dog,” Angela whispered with a giggle, which made him chuckle. As they stood, she placed the device in her ear then covered her hair.

“Thank you sir,” she spoke openly now.

“Of course,” he nodded and held out a champagne flute for her. “Enjoy the party, miss.” With one last nod to each other, Angela sent him a wink and continued to walk around. Once it was time to get everyone outside to the cliff, Angela went arm in arm with Artie to see why was happening. The Baroness was talking to Estella right beside the railing between the property and the cliff. Her eyebrows furrowed as she watched the Baroness hug the girl, then gasped in horror after the woman promptly pushed her over the railing. Angela’s knees buckled under her, but Artie was quick to catch her.

“Come on, we have to go,” he muttered in her ear, leading her off as the Baroness continued to claim that Estella had jumped. John, Horace and Jasper were waiting outside the entrance of the building, looking unphased. Upon noticing Angela’s distressed state, Jasper walked over to the duo and hugged her.

“It’s okay Angie. Just trust us,” he whispered. That confused the girl, and she looked up at the man. He didn’t acknowledge the look as he led her to the circle of gravel as a car sped towards them. Angela gasped and she plus the men with her stepped back once the car skidded to a stop just a few feet away from them. The girl’s mouth dropped open as Cruella de Vil stepped out of her car.

“No way,” she breathed out with a small laugh. Jasper’s hand went around her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze.

“Didn’t I tell you to trust us?” He muttered as everyone surrounded the car. She couldn’t help but laugh and she pulled him into a tight hug that he didn’t hesitate to return as the police led the Baroness to their car.

“Can’t you idiots see!” The woman shouted. “That Estella person, that’s a trick! She’s really Cruella!”

“Cruella de Vil,” Cruella announced with a triumphant smirk.

Just a few days later, “Estella” was laid to rest, finally with her mother once more. Cruella, Jasper and Horace moved into the newly named Hell Hall, but Jasper was quick to notice that there was one person missing.

“Hey, Artie? Where’s Angela?” He asked his flamboyant friend. The man shrugged absentmindedly as he stared at the ornately designed wall pieces.

“She was outside by the cliff last I saw her,” he answered distractedly. Jasper thanked him then headed out where everyone had seen the Baroness murder Estella Miller just a few days ago. She was sitting on a bench not far from the cliff, just listening to the waves miles below by the looks of it.

“Beautiful view, huh?” He asked softly as to not disturb her. Her head turned just a bit to look at him and nod. A serene smile graced her face that made her look even more beautiful than the night of the gala in Jasper’s opinion. She patted the space beside her, to which he sat down. It was a rather peaceful silence, and it was the calmest both of them had been in a week. Cruella allowed the guys all a small break to get settled into the mansion and Artie and Angela were given a break from designing to relax.

“What were you going to say?” Angela interrupted the silence. Jasper’s eyebrows knit together and he looked at her.

“What?”

“What were you going to tell me the day of the charity gala?” She elaborated. “When everyone was at lunch.” Jasper now blushed and looked down shyly.

“Ah, that,” he started, his tone matching his mood.

“Oh please, no need to act bashful now,” Angela teased, resting her head on his shoulder affectionately. Jasper didn’t laugh like she expected him to, which worried her.

“Hey,” she nudged him gently. “What’s wrong?” The man stayed silent for a minute, but was yet again interrupted for the third time in the past three days. Horace walked out with Winky by his feet.

“Oi Jasper!’ He called despite being only a few feet away from the duo. “Cruella wants you back inside to help her with a few,” he paused and glanced at the palm of his hand. “Executive decisions to maximize the space of the house,” he finished slowly, obviously reading off his hand. Angela couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head at the innocence in his tone. Jasper smiled a little then looked at her.

“Duty calls, I guess,” he muttered apologetically. Angela brushed him off.

“Go ahead. I’ll see you later.” The man nodded and bid her a quick goodbye and followed his friend back inside, leaving Angela to sigh and continue to look out over the cliff.

A few days later. Cruella decided to have a party to introduce herself and all of her workers to the world, not wanting to not give everyone their due credit. Everyone who was anyone was going to be there, so everyone had to make a good impression.

Angela dressed in a form fitting burgundy gown with off the shoulder short sleeves and pulled her hair up into a bun. Once she was happy with her look, she decided to go around and help anyone who needed help getting ready. The first door she happened upon was Jasper’s, who had opened it a crack. She knocked twice on the door, waiting for him to call her in before entering.

The man in question was standing at a full length mirror fully dressed, aside from his tie. He looked wonderful, Angela thought. The suit really did him justice because it was like him: simple. Jasper never cared for extravagant outfits, and that opinion has stayed with him to this day. He was just wearing a simple tux, nothing added, just the suit. He seemed to be focused on his appearance though, as he hadn’t greeted her, or noticed her at all. Upon closer inspection, Angela realized he was having trouble with his bowtie.

“Turn around Jas,” she instructed gently. The man sighed, but turned around upon realizing that it was Angela’s voice. He paused, staring her up and down in shock, which made Angela smile as she recalled the night of the charity gala.

“Wow, uh, you look incredible,” he complimented, still looking blown away. She blushed in response and absentmindedly smoothed her dress down.

“Thank you, but that’s not why I’m here. Bowtie, please,” she instructed, holding her hand out for the piece of fabric. Jasper looked like he wanted to protest, but gave in without a word. Angela thanked him and stepped closer, wrapping the tie around the back of his neck. Her eyes stayed on his neck as she tied it, too shy to look into his eyes with how close they were. Meanwhile, he couldn’t find it in himself to look away from her. She looked so cute when she concentrated, usually she hit her lip but not tonight unless she wanted to risk ruining her lipstick.

Once she was done, she straightened out his tie then slid her hand to the collar of his nice shirt and folded it down. Only then did she finally look at him.

“All done-“ she broke off, noticing the look he was giving her. What was that in his eyes? Longing? Affection? Love?

“I- uh,” she started, but she had no words to finish her thought. Not like she had the chance anyway.

“Guests are arriving!” Artie called down the hall. Both their heads snapped to the doorway, then to each other.

“Right uh, I should be going,” Angela muttered quickly, stepping away from him and ignoring the loss she felt from not being so close to him anymore. “Cruella requested that Artie and I go down together,” she explained, as if he didn’t already know.

“Right,” he repeated with an awkward smile. “Uh, good luck.” His hands went into his pockets as she shot him a dazzling smile.

“You as well. See you out there,” she responded before walking out of his room, closing the door behind her. Jasper was really starting to get annoyed with all the interruptions.

The party was almost in full swing when Cruella announced that it was time to make their entrance. She had everyone separated into groups by their importance to her: all of Artie and Angela’s tailors would go down first separated by their part in the dressmaking process, then once they were at the bottom of the stairs Artie and Angela would walk down, they were the ones who got all the fabric and such after all. Then Horace and Jasper walked down side by side, no reason to explain the obvious reason. Then finally, the queen herself at the top of the stairs, completing the pyramid. The applause was almost deafening, and Jasper noticed Angela squeeze Artie’s arm. She had done that before the flash mob at the park, so it didn’t take long for Jasper to realize it was a stress reliever, a way to sort of ground herself around so many people.

Cruella gave a short speech welcoming everyone then saying what would go on tonight: there would be a sort of q&a for anyone who had questions about them as well as showcasing all their previous designs on mannequins that lined the side walls. But first, there were introductions that needed to happen. Cruella went through all the dressmakers by name and what their specialty was, and as she said their names they walked down the steps as rehearsed. It went by rather quickly and soon everyone was encouraged to mingle until the q&a started.

Jasper looked about the room, searching for someone in particular, and he found her just moments later. Angela was in a small group that surrounded Cruella’s rubbish dress discussing how long it took to make and such. He had a plan, and no one was going to stop him this time. He made his way over to the group, coming up behind the girl as she listened to Artie talk. She nearly gasped when an arm went around her waist and someone’s lips practically touched the shell of her ear.

“Meet me outside when you’re done here. By the cliff,” Jasper whispered, which made her relax now that she knew it was only him. She turned just a bit to nod, a sign that she understood. With one more nod, Jasper’s hands went into his pockets as he headed outside to their agreed meeting spot. Just a few minutes later he heard the clacking of heels walking towards him and he turned around. Angela smiled at him upon reaching him.

“You wanted to talk?” She inquired, just loud enough to be heard over the water below. Jasper nodded nervously.

“I want to tell you what I’ve been dying to tell you since before the whole fire incident,” he explained, which made her perk up. Finally.

“Go on, then,” she responded, leaning against the railing beside him. He stayed silent yet again for a few minutes.

“Jasper,” she called, making him look at her. “I know you’re probably thinking of the right way to put things, but you might want to hurry because we don’t know the next time we’ll-“

“Jasper! Angie!” Artie called, stepping outside. “Cruella wants us inside for the q&a!” Jasper watched as Angela’s shoulders slumped in defeat, attempting not to show her disappointment.

“Nevermind then,” she muttered softly, straightening out her dress as she stood straight once more. Jasper shook his head quickly. No. Not this time. His hand shot out to grab her own as she began heading inside. Angela barely had time to turn and question him before he pulled her close to him. His hand left hers and instead moved to cup her face with both hands and bring his lips to hers. Immediately her hands reached up to cover his and her eyes closed, her lashes looking like a Morning Glory at dusk. This wasn’t just a kiss, it was something that they could get addicted to if they weren’t careful, but neither of them cared about that. All they focused on was each other until Angela was forced to pull away for air.

“I love you,” Jasper whispered, not wasting a second before pressing another kiss to her lips, this time much more delicate and much less urgent. “That’s what I’ve been wanting to say.” Another kiss. “And bloody hell has it been hard to get a moment alone to tell you that.” Angela couldn’t help but giggle as their lips met yet again.

“I’m afraid with our line of work we don’t have a lot of time to wait,” she responded simply, her hands now resting on his shoulders. “But for you, I would make time.”

“There’s no need now that it’s done,” he spoke with a wide smile that she just couldn’t help but copy. “Just stay with me, forever.”

“I would like nothing more,” Angela answered, wrapping her arms around him in a hug that he returned.

“Wow,” they heard another voice from behind them, which made them turn around. Cruella stood there with a knowing smirk.

“That was touching,” she continued. “But now that you’ve professed your undying love for each other, we have a q&a to do so let’s go. Please?” She added after Angela raised her eyebrows at her. Jasper chuckled at the interaction then held his arm out for Angela.

“Shall we?” The woman grinned at him then linked their arms together.

“We shall.” With that, they followed Cruella inside to the rest of their lives.

#Cruella 2021 #cruella #jasper badun #jasper badun x oc #jasper badun fanfiction #jasper badun fanfic #jasper badun imagine

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